#bittersweet after chapter 9

[imaginespazzi]

Part 13: If You Stay

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 14 - Part 15

And I find it bittersweet (cause you gave me something to lose)

(In which, an all over the place writer, writes an all over the place chapter)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst with some Hurt/Comfort and a little bit of Fluff

Words: 13.1K

TW: Swearing, Slightly Suggestive Content, Mentions of Divorce, Drinking

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 So clearly that 48 to 72 hours deadline completely evaded me but here I am! I've always gotten asks about how many chapters GH will be and normally it's an estimate but I can almost for certain say that after this one, there will be two more chapters. This part is, like I said, a little all over the place as I start to tie in loose ends and bring everything together but it's pretty important as we start our journey to the end. This isn't particularly well-edited because as well know I hate editing but I eventually will go back and edit so any typos/errors you see are much-appreciated. As always, your live reacts give me life, so let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely weekend my loves <3

May 2033

Paige wakes up alone to an empty bed. Her eyes open to the feel of her fingers reaching out and finding nothing but the soft material of her crinkled bedsheets. She stares at the empty space, gaze fixated on the way the sunlight hits the exact spot Azzi had been curled up in and lets her mind wander back to yesterday -god everything had been fine just 24 hours ago- when the rays of sunshine coming through the window had cast lines of gold across the brunette’s face. It wasn’t often that Paige woke up before Azzi, but for some reason she had yesterday. Maybe it was the universe’s way of giving her one last chance to memorize an image that she’s not sure when she’ll be able to see again. Paige traces her hands along the linen, blinking back tears, and she swears she can still feel the heat of Stephie and Azzi’s bodies radiating off of it. It’s unfair, she knows, to expect them to have stayed when it’s the one thing she herself can’t commit to doing but still, that awareness does little to dull the ache reverberating through her chest. 

Sighing to herself, Paige shifts onto her back, turning away from the empty space that almost feels taunting. She gives herself a minute, taking deep breaths to chase away the erraticness in her heartbeat and the moisture in her eyes before finally sitting up and leaning against the headboard. Her eyebrows knit together when she notices the bag in the corner -the pink duffel Azzi had packed for last night- and she almost gasps. It wasn’t like Azzi to forget her stuff, even when escaping. And then she hears it, the familiar giggles of a little girl echoing from her kitchen and Paige feels her heart break and fix itself at the same time. 

They’d stayed. 

Paige flings the covers off of herself, making it from the guest bedroom to the stairs in record time. She almost slips on the fifth step as she races down the stairs, every part of her alight with the need to just see Stephie and Azzi. Her feet skid to a halt before the kitchen doorway and her breath catches in her lungs, hand immediately clutching at her chest as she takes in the scene in front of her. It’s the three most important people in her life gathered around the kitchen counter. Azzi’s flipping pancakes, a soft grin on her face as she listens to Drew and Stephie -both of them already with a stack of pancakes on their respective plates- who are animatedly arguing about whether bananas or chocolate chips go better with pancakes. 

“Come on Uncle Drew,” Stephie drawls, “choc-chips are the best-est-est-est and ‘nanas are boooooring.”

“Bananas are not boring,” Drew counters, his voice filled with dramatic offense, “you can mash them in the pancake or eat them on the side or on top of the stack. Bananas are versatile.”

Stephie scrunches her nose and Paige smiles as the little girl gives her brother a pointed look, “I don’t know what vers-a-tile means so that doesn’t even matter to me.”

Azzi snorts, “I don’t think that’s how that works Stephie-bean.”

“Does too,” Stephie pouts and then juts her fork out at Drew, “here Uncle Drew, try it and you’ll see choc-chips are so much better than that,” she looks disdainfully at the young man’s plate. 

Drew dutifully accepts the bite of food, chewing it at an exaggeratedly slow pace as he pretends to contemplate how he feels about it. 

“I mean it’s not bad,” he says finally, before a smirk breaks out on his lips, “but banana’s clear.”

“Nah, I don’t know about that,” Paige says, finally making her presence known as she walks over to Stephie’s side, “You’re both wrong. Blueberries are better with pancakes than both bananas and chocolate chips,” she reaches out to ruffle Stephie’s hair, smile faltering when the little girl dodges her hand, “Steph-”

“Mama,” gone is the happy child that had been casually bantering with Drew; Stephie’s face is ashen with the remnants of her emotions from last night as she shifts herself as far away from Paige as possible, “I wanna go home.”

Her words feel like a needle, pricking against the bubble of delusion Paige had created mere seconds ago; the wishful thought that maybe they could ignore what had happened last night, that they could just close the lid on the jar of darkness they’d opened and pretend the obsidian hadn’t slipped out, clouding the paradise they’d built before. And maybe that’s Paige’s problem. Avoidance. She’d pushed herself towards Stephie and Azzi, acting like there wasn’t a harness -bound together with the ropes of all the grievances, all the fears, that the past had left in her- and now she was stuck. So close to reaching them but unable to finally get there. 

Azzi’s eyes flicker conflictedly between Paige’s ashen face and Stephie’s stormy one, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip, “you’ve still got some more left on your plate Stephie-bean,”

“I don’t want the rest,” Stephie says adamantly, pushing the plate away from her, “I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Stephie we don’t waste food,” Azzi says it like it’s a reprimand but Paige knows it’s for her sake, to give her more time with Stephie, and a mix of guilt and gratefulness pools in her stomach as she fights the urge to pull the younger woman into her arms and kiss away the stress lines that have formed on her forehead in the last 24 hours. 

“Then pack it and we can take it home,” Stephie slides off the counter, tiny arms crossing over her chest as she looks at her mother with pleading eyes, “please Mama, I don’t wanna be here anymore.”

“Stephie-” Paige tries to say, reaching out once again for the little girl. 

“Excuse me Coach Bueckers,” Stephie sidesteps the older woman, her voice far colder than a little girl’s voice should be -far colder than anything she’s ever used with her Miss Buecks- and it feels like shards of ice prodding against Paige’s heart. 

“Stephie please-”

The little girl refuses to meet her gaze but Paige notices the way her eyes glance towards her for the briefest moment, like she wants nothing more than to turn around and fling herself at the older woman. But the look is gone as quick as it came and Stephie’s face hardens -and Paige hates herself for being the reason why- as she looks at her mother. 

“Please can we go home now Mama?” 

Azzi sighs, “yeah bean, we can go home. Unless-” she hesitates, eyes locking with Paige’s, “unless- maybe Miss Buecks has a reason we should stay?”

And Paige knows this is Azzi giving her one last chance, one last opportunity to say the right things, to keep Stephie and Azzi with her. It’s why she hadn’t left this morning; she’d been waiting to see if Paige was ready. And all Paige has to do is open her mouth and make the promises that she couldn’t last night; shut the door on her escape plan -to New York and the Liberty- and she can open the one that leads to her perfect dream, that leads to a forever with Stephie and Azzi. But that’s the thing; what if forever doesn’t last? After all, the last time she’d trusted in it -trusted the same woman in front of her to be hers always- forever had turned out to be a myth. Paige isn’t ready. And so she averts Azzi’s gaze, keeps her mouth shut and looks away before she can see the hope disappear from the brunette’s face. 

“Right,” Azzi swallows, “alright then uh -you’re right Stephie- we should- we should go home. You go wash your face and uh- Mama’s gonna go grab our stuff and then- then we can go.”

The last words make an indiscernible noise creak out of Paige’s lips as she watches Stephie make her way towards the bathroom. Azzi carefully flips the final pancake onto a plate -one with a stack of blueberry pancakes- before turning the stove off and beelining for the stairs towards the guest room. But Paige is quicker, curling her fingers around the younger woman’s wrist to keep her in place. 

“Az,” she breathes out, unsure what to say- unsure what she even wants to say.

Azzi doesn’t look at her, “I ordered groceries.”

“What?”

“You didn’t have any food and I- I wanted to make pancakes,” Azzi explains, “but uh- I got more than just pancake stuff. There’s eggs and milk and that stupid cereal that you like and just- just basic groceries you know. And I know you don’t like veggies but I had to get some because they’re good for you Paige okay but don’t- don’t worry- I balanced it out with all those ridiculously unhealthy snacks you like.”

“Azzi,” Paige’s voice cracks, “you didn’t have to-”

“I did,” Azzi cuts her off, “you just- you can’t live off of fucking takeout okay,” a lone tear slides down her cheek, “and I got- I got enough groceries to last you two weeks but you- you’ll have to get more eventually if-” she stops herself but they both know where that sentence was going. 

If you’re gonna live here- if you’re gonna live by yourself. 

“I just-” Paige struggles to get the words out, “I need some more time.”

“I know,” Azzi finally looks at her and for a second Paige almost wishes she hadn’t because the hurt -the please just say you’ll stay- swimming in the younger woman’s eyes is almost too much to bear, “I know you need time and you- you can have it,” she brushes her thumb against Paige’s waterline, “but you can’t have both. You can’t have time and us.”

Why not, Paige wants to scream, wants to stomp her feet like a petulant toddler but she knows Azzi’s right, knows that they have to be apart until she figures it out. And so she nods at the brunette’s words as Azzi gently caresses her cheek -fingers lingering just a little longer than they should- before she rushes upstairs to grab her and Stephie’s overnight bag. 

Paige watches her go before she disappears out of sight, and the blonde falls back against the counter. Closing her eyes as she takes in a couple of deep breaths, she swears the air has never felt more acidic. And she he can feel Drew looking at her, can almost see the contemplative -maybe even concerned- look in his eyes without opening her own. 

“What?” she bites out, harsher than intended. 

“Nothing,” Drew hesitates, “I just- I didn’t think Azzi would have stayed last night.”

Paige shrugs, eyes still closed, “I asked her to.”

“I figured but I- I guess I didn’t expect her to agree,” Drew says quietly. 

There’s an undercurrent to her brother’s tone that has Paige finally opening her eyes, fixing him with a stern gaze, “what exactly are you trying to say Drew?”

“Nothing,” Drew repeats but the nervous shuffle of his feet say something entirely different. 

“Drew.”

“She stayed Paige,” his voice breaks unexpectedly, “last night, this morning, she- she stayed.”

There’s a beat of silence as Paige stares at her brothers, absorbing his words when the unexpected flash of anger hits, “seriously?”

“What?” Drew’s taken aback by the fire in his sister's eyes. 

“What do you mean what? One fucking stack of pancakes and suddenly all that shit you said to me last night- you don’t believe it anymore? All of that’s forgotten now?”

“That’s not-”

“Jesus fucking christ Drew,” Paige pinches the bridge of her nose and she’s fully aware her anger is misdirected -that it’s herself, she’s mad at- but she continues ranting at her brother anyways, “you made me overthink everything Drew. I was doing fine, we were doing fine and then- then you said all of that shit last night, reminded me of everything and now here we are the next morning and what? You’re not mad at Azzi anymore? She stays one fucking night and all is forgiven? You’ve changed your whole fucking mind-”

“You can’t blame me-” Drew begins to cut her off loudly but then there’s another voice -soft and small- interrupting both of them. They turn to see Stephie staring at them, her expression almost fearful at the sound of them arguing. And Paige hates herself a little bit for putting all these new expressions on the little girl’s face; she misses when she used to be the reason for her smile. 

“That’s- that’s two bad words Miss-” Stephie stops herself, swallowing away the familiar name, “I mean- Coach Bueckers.”

“Sorry Stephie,” Paige whispers, pausing slightly before she takes a nervous step towards the girl, “so does that- does that mean I owe you two kisses?”

Stephie’s face wobbles, her bottom lip trembling as she nods slowly, “yeah you do.”

Paige breathes shakily as she kneels down in front of the little girl, eyes drinking in the sight of having her this close -like they know they might not get this moment again- as she slowly pulls her into her arms. Stephie is warm and soft and familiar and Paige wishes she would never have to let the little girl go. She squeezes her to her chest as she delicately places her lips against Stephies left cheek. 

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” she whispers against the little girl’s soft skin, hoping the child knows it isn’t just for the swearing before she presses another fluttering kiss against Stephie’s right cheek, “I’m so sorry.”

And then, just as Stephie’s about to pull out of her grasp, Paige stops her, pressing her lips to the little girl’s forehead. When she pulls back, Stephie’s staring at her with a confused look on her face. 

“You only owed me two,” she says matter-of-factly, “what was the last one for?”

Paige gives the little girl a sad smile as she brushes away a strand of curly hair that had gotten loose from her ponytail, “just because you’re my Stephie-bean.”

Stephie stares at her and Paige can see a myriad of emotions flicker behind her tiny eyes. She opens her mouth, like she’s about to say something and Paige’s heart thumps in anticipation, but then the sound of Azzi’s footsteps coming down echoes from the stairs and Stephie pushes away from her. And suddenly, Paige feels empty, like the most vital parts of her are missing. 

“You ready to go Stephie-bean?” Azzi asks, mustering on a brave voice for her daughter but Paige can hear the way it’s cracking, can tell from her red-rimmed eyes that she’d taken a little longer than necessary upstairs to fix herself. 

“Yeah Mama,” Stephie takes her mother’s outstretched hand, “let’s go home.”

The walk through the foyer and outside towards Azzi car feels like it takes hours. Drew doesn’t come all the way, stopping at the front door and giving Stephie a quick high-five that draws a brief smile from the little girl. He doesn’t say anything to Azzi but there’s an underlying softness in the way he tips his head towards her as they nod at each other. And then it’s just the three of them and Paige swears they’re all walking just a little bit slower than they normally do, like they’re trying to savor this moment just a little longer and prolong the inevitable. 

She leans against the side of the car as Azzi buckles Stephie into her carseat. The little girl keeps on her brave face, avoiding eye contact with both Paige and her mother as she focuses firmly in front of her. When Azzi closes the backdoor, Stephie’s face disappearing behind the tinted windows, Paige wants to scream. Everything in her feels like it’s burning and freezing at the same time. 

Azzi hesitates as she’s about to get into the driver’s seat, biting her lip as she turns back towards Paige. 

“You should know that I - that Stephie and I- we-” she pauses, like she’s scared to say the rest of it, “we want you- we want you forever Paige,” both of them suck in a deep breath as the confession looms in the air above them, “and I know you need time and you should take it,” Azzi says softly, her hand reaching almost halfway to caress Paige’s cheek before falling forlornly back to her sides, “but we can’t- we won’t wait forever.”

*** 

August 2031 

Paige is normally a big fan of All-Star weekend; she relishes the chaos of the weekend, getting the opportunity to connect with her fellow peers in a way that wasn’t possible during the rest of the season and just didn’t quite happen at this level outside of it.  But she’s definitely not a fan of it this year, considering it’s being held in her team’s city, in Dallas. Six years later and still, something about this city doesn’t quite feel right, doesn’t feel quite like a place she can call home. 

But still, at least it had given her the chance to not have to be in her apartment this weekend. Unlike her teammates who were more than comfortable staying in their respective homes, Paige had taken up the WNBA’s offer to stay where the rest of the non-Wings players were staying. It’s ironic that the sterile walls of an unfamiliar hotel somehow feel more comforting than a home that’s supposed to be hers. Except, the apartment -the one she’d moved into after the divorce after giving Oliva their house in an act of goodwill- feels cold and empty and Paige has done little to rectify it. She pretends it’s because she’s too busy, that she’ll get to hanging up the picture frames and decorating the walls eventually. But there’s a part of her that knows she’s likely just stalling the inevitable, that the apartment is as temporary as it gets until she finally lets herself make the decision to to leave Dallas. 

The quiet ding of the elevator opening has Paige sighing as she shakes her mind of that daunting thought. It’s why she’d rushed out of her room in the first place, not wanting to be trapped with herself for longer than necessary. The silence has become her worst enemy, enhancing the loneliness that she’s felt ever since the divorce- maybe even longer. 

Divorce. 

God she hates that word, has hated it since her parents had sat her down and said they were getting one. She’d always told herself she wouldn’t become another divorce statistic like them but clearly history liked repeating itself. And the worst part of it, Paige thinks, is that she doesn’t regret the divorce -thinks it might be one of the only right decisions she’s made in the last six years- but maybe she regrets that marriage, regrets selling Olivia a dream, she’d subconsciously always known she wouldn’t be able to fulfill. 

Thinking of Olivia makes Paige feel awful. She hadn’t done anything outrightly wrong to the other woman, never raised her voice or said anything untoward and she’d definitely never cheated. Well, not physically at least. But she’d gotten married to the reporter for all the wrong reasons, trying to fit a puzzle piece that had all the wrong edges into the jigsaw of her life even though she’d known the empty space in her heart could only be filled by one person. For her part, Olivia had been just as good at pretending as Paige was, acting like she couldn’t see the cracks in their relationship or the water that was seeping in through them. 

And then something shifted -maybe the water had finally gone over their head- and just like she’d been the one to bring up the idea of getting married, Olivia was the one who had filed for divorce. And Paige thinks maybe the worst thing she ever did to Olivia, is the way she didn’t fight it once. She remembers the hesitation in her ex-wife’s eyes, remembers the slight pleading look on her face as if she wanted Paige to at least resist it a little bit. But she hadn’t; she’d simply nodded and signed. That was the end of the Olivia, Paige knew and from then on the sweet, bubbly, slightly over-enthusiastic reporter who’d stumbled over her question at Paige’s first media availability transformed into a cold ex-wife who could keep up a charade of cordiality for appearances, but never refrained from a cutting jab here and there. 

The elevator dings open and Paige steps into the lobby, straightening her hoodie a little bit as she scans the area for familiar faces. Finding no one she’s particularly interested in talking to, she’d just about to head to the bar when her eyes land on a little girl nervously bouncing on her feet next to a vase of flowers that’s almost double her height. She can’t be older than three years old and Paige can tell from the way her bottom lip is trembling, that the young child is doing her absolute best to hold in tears. Something constricts in her heart -something almost more than just empathy for the little girl- as Paige makes her way over. 

Gently, trying not to scare the girl, Paige kneels in front of her, “hey sweetheart.”

When the little girl turns to look at her, familiar dark brown doey eyes filled with unshed tears, her breath hitches in her throat and Paige suddenly realizes why she’d felt that tug in her heart. This is Azzi’s kid. 

“H-hi,” the little girl manages to splutter, playing with her fingers as she regards Paige with a way expression, clearly trying to discern whether she’s safe or not. 

“Hey,” Paige repeats, smiling reassuringly, “you okay?”

The little girl nods slowly but there must something about the warmth in Paige’s smile that she pauses, rebellious teardrops running down her face as she goes from nodding to shaking her head. 

“I-I-I-I- lost,” she wails. 

“Oh sweetheart it’s okay,” Paige tries to say, hands instinctively reaching out to run up and down the little girl’s shoulders. 

“I was- I was ‘posed to be with Aunty J but she- she was talking and I saw pu-ple flow-es,” she points to the vase through her tears, “so I came to see but then- but then- I look back and Aunty J no there anymore and I want- I want my Mama,” she heaves, fully sobbing now, “I want my Mama.”

“It’s okay sweetheart, shhh,” Paige comforts the little girl as she stands back up, lacing her own fingers through her tinier ones, “how about we go and try to find your Mama?”

She’s about to turn around when feels a tug on her hand and when she looks down, the young child is shaking her head, adamantly planting her feet firmly on the floor. 

“We can’t go,” she says firmly, “Mama says if I get lost, I stay where I am and Mama will find me. And-,” she hesitates as she looks Paige up and down, “Mama says I don’t go anywhere with a st-anger.”

It shouldn’t sting -because that’s what Paige is, a stranger- but it’s an unsettling reminder that this is a world like nothing she’d ever imagined when she was younger, a world where Azzi’s daughter doesn’t know her. 

“So we can’t go. We have to stay here and Mama will find me,” the little girl says again and despite the tears still swimming in her eyes, there’s complete confidence -trust- in her voice that her mother -that Azzi- will find her. 

“Okay,” Paige agrees softly, “but is it okay if I wait with you?”

Azzi’s daughter looks at her with a contemplative look for a couple of seconds before a bright grin explodes on her face and Paige thinks it feels a little bit like a ray of sunshine bombarding into her otherwise cloudy world. 

“Okay,” the little girl grins happily before holding out a tiny hand, “I’m Stephanie Katarina Fudd.”

Paige laughs at the formality as she shakes Stephanie’s hand, “I’m Paige Madison Bueckers.”

“Nice to meet you Miss Buecks,” Stephanie chirps as smiles up at the woman. 

“It’s Bueckers,” Paige tries to correct as Stephanie scrunches up her nose. 

“That’s what I said,” she says with a confused look on her face, “Miss Buecks.”

Paige opens her mouth to try and correct her again but stops, deciding she’s not about to argue with the little girl and that she quite likes the incorrect way Stephanie says her name.  Instead she lets herself fall to the ground, leaning against the pillar as she stretches out her legs in front of her. Stephanie raises an eyebrow at the actions but eventually sits down next to her and Paige smiles. They sit in silence for a bit as Paige reaches for her phone, considering texting Azzi for a brief second before she eventually decides to text Jana -who she thinks might just be Stephanie’s Aunty J- instead to let Azzi know Stephanie was with her. 

“I know you,” Stephanie says suddenly and Paige looks away from the phone to see the little girl’s eyes wide with recognition. 

“I thought you said I was a stranger,” Paige cocks a teasing eyebrow. 

“You are,” Stephanie says matter-of-factly, “but I seen you at Mama’s game sometimes.”

“I’ve seen you too,” Paige admits. 

“You’re good at bask-ball,” Stephanie states and the thing is, Paige has heard and read so many people say she’s great at basketball but there’s something about the way Stephanie says it -something about the genuine innocence of it- that makes her beam with pride. 

“I guess I am,” she bumps Stephanie’s shoulder as she winks at her. 

“I love bask-ball,” Stephaniee’s eyes gleam as she says it and Paige knows that expression -knows that slight look of madness that’s just the beginning of falling in love with a sport. 

“Yeah?” she asks casually, “you play ball?”

Stephanie nods enthusiastically, “Mama got me a hoop for Ch-istmas -just like the one she had when she littler- and she p-omised that when I’m bigger, she’s gonna lemme go bask-ball camp.”

It’s hard not to grin along with Stephanie’s ranting, especially not when her determination to play basketball -one that reminds Paige a lot of herself- shines through her words. 

“You any good,” Paige teases, biting back a laugh when the little girl’s face contorts in offense, like she can’t even believe someone would have the audacity to question her basketball skills. 

“Of course I am. I’m Azzi Fudd’s daughter,” Stephanie says proudly, blissfully unaware of the way Paige's smile wobbles for a second at the statement, “but Mama says one day, I’mma be even gooder than her.”

“Can I get your autograph now then?” 

Stephanie scrunches her nose, “what’s an au-to-gra-ph?”

“Wait,” Paige stands up, on a mission to find a pen, but Stephanie immediately grabs her hand. 

The little girl’s eyes are wide with anxiety as she looks up at Paige, “no Miss Buecks don’t leave me.”

“Oh sweetheart I’m not,” Paige crouches back down in front of Stephanie, thumbs reaching out to rub the little girl’s cheeks in reassurance, “I’m gonna go right there to get something,” she points to the the reception desk, “I’ll be back in one minutes. I swear.”

“Pinky p-omise?” Stephanie raises her pinky and Paige diligently intertwines her own around it. 

“Pinky promise,” she says, before practically skipping over to where she’d spotted a cup-holder full of pens. She can feel Stephanie’s anxious eyes piercing into the back of her head and if possible, the smile she’s had on her face since meeting the little girl, somehow deepens. It’s dangerous, she knows, becoming so enamored with Azzi’s daughter but her heart has always moved faster than her head, and Paige still hasn’t quite figured out how to stop that. 

“You’re back,” Stephanie claps happily when Paige comes back to her and the blonde beams at the affection in her voice. 

“Told you I would be,” Paige grins as she plops back down next to the little girl, holding out the pen she’d found. 

“Why you get pen?” Stephanie asks, staring at it like it’s a foreign object. 

“Because you need a pen to give me your autograph,” Paige explains, “an autograph is when someone famous signs their name on something for someone,” she holds out her arm that is currently covered by a grey hoodie, “will you sign my hoodie?”

“Silly Miss Buecks,” Stephanie chides, “You and Mama are famous. I’m not famous.”

“Not yet. But if you’re as good at basketball as you say you are, then one day, Stephanie Katarina Fudd, you are gonna be so famous. Just like me and your Mama,” Paige taps the little girl’s nose, releasing the giggle it elicits from her and she thinks it might be her new favorite sound, “and I wanna be the first person who gets your autograph.”

“Can I get yours too?” Stephanie asks, her tone a little shy and Paige thinks that forget an autograph, she’d give her the world if she’d asked for it. 

“Of course you can bean,” the nickname slips out before she can catch it and Paige’s mind travels back to her wedding day, back to the phone-call with Azzi. 

“Mama calls me bean too,” Stephanie says, as she begins to messily try and write her name on the sleeve of Paige’s hoodie, “she calls me Stephie-bean.”

As if on cue, Azzi’s voice fills the air, tinged with a slight bit of panic and Paige feels her heart catch in her throat. Six years they’ve been apart, something always thrums in her every time she feels Azzi’s presence near her. But it feels almost electric this time. The memories of the last time they’d seen each other, the night they’d spent together after this year’s National Championship game linger in the air and Paige shivers like she can still feels the softness of Azzi’s skin underneath her fingertips; can still hear the breathlessness of her moans in her hears. 

“Stephie-bean,” Azzi calls out and Stephanie’s eyes dart towards her mother’s voice as she immediately stands up, little feet tripping over each other as she rushes to get to the younger woman. 

“MAMA,” Stephanie yells, flinging herself into her mother’s arms and Paige watches as Azzi cradles the little girl to her chest, kissing all over her face. Something pangs in her chest, and she wishes she were a part of that embrace too. And if all the dreams they’d dreamt together when they were younger had come true, she would’ve been.

“Stephie what have I said about running off,” Azzi scolds as she coaxes the little girl's face out of her neck. 

“I din-t run off,” Stephanie defends petulantly, “I go to look at pu-ple flow-es cause they looked so pretty but then when I turned around, Aunty J gone,’ her face wobbles at the memory, “I was so scay-ed Mama cause I lost and ‘lone but then,” her voice changes immediately as she turns around to point at Paige, who freezes when Azzi’s gaze lands on her, “Miss Buecks find me!”

“Miss Buecks,” Azzi repeats dazedly as Stephanie begins to pull her towards Paige, unaware of the anxious tension between the two adults. 

“This is Miss Buecks,” Stephahnie introduces the two of them, “she find me and she tol’ me she help me find you but I say that Stephie can’t move cause Stephie have to stay right here cause Mama says if Stephie lost, Stephie don’t move,” the little girl says animatedly and both adults laugh at the random switch to third-person, “but Miss Buckes say she’ll stay with me and so I not ‘care anymore cause I have Miss Buecks,” she says casually, naive to the way it makes both Paige and Azzi swallows, “and look Mama,” she eagerly grabs Paige’s sleeve, “I give Miss Buecks my auto-gaph.”

“That’s, that’s lovely sweetheart,” Azzi says softly before she turns to Paige -and Paige wonders if it’ll ever stop, if the way her stomach swoons every time the brunette looks at her will ever go away-, “thank you for texting Jana and thank you- thank you for staying with her.”

Paige shrugs as casually as she can, “don’t gotta thank me,” she nudges Stephanie, “we had a great time together didn’t we Stephanie?” 

The little girl nods enthusiastically, “the great-est-est-est time,” she exclaims to her mother, “Miss Buecks is so cool.”

“Thanks Stephie-” Paige hesitates, unsure if she has the right to use the nickname, “Stephanie. You’re really cool too.”

Stephanie practically glows at the compliment, “Mama, Miss Buecks thinks I’m cool and- and- and- she say that I’m gonna be famous one day. That’s why she wanted my auto-gaph. Cause I’mma be a big bask-ball star just like you two.”

Azzi ruffles the little girl’s hair before looking at Paige with an indiscernible expression, “just like us huh?”

“Maybe even better,” Paige says softly. 

“I guess we’ll find out,” Azzi grins before leaning down to pick her daughter up -the sight of it invoking something warm and fuzzy in Paige’s stomach- “alright Stephie-bean, say bye to Miss Buecks. We gotta go get ready the orange carpet and I gotta go yell at your Aunty J for losing you again,” she winks at Paige who lets out a laugh. 

And she hasn’t laughed like this -laughed as much as she has in these last few minutes with Stephanie- in so long that she’d almost forgotten what it sounded like. 

“Bye Miss Buecks,” Stephanie waves over her mother’s shoulder. 

“Bye Stephanie,” Paige waves before hesitating for a second, and then she calls out, “hey Azzi?”

Azzi turns around slightly, humming in response, “what’s up?”

“I like that you call her Stephie-bean,” Paige admits nervously, hoping Azzi will understand what she means and by the way the brunette’s eyes soften, it’s clear she does. 

“It just felt right,” Azzi says softly; her mouth opens like she wants to say more -something more than what their current colleague-esque relationship allows for- but in the end, she settles on something far more mundane, “see you around Bueckers.”

“See ya,” Paige whispers back and if she stands completely still, watching Stephanie and Azzi walking all the way until they turn a corner and she can’t see them anymore, well that’s nobody’s business but her own. 

That’s the first night Paige lets herself wonder about the possibilities of becoming a Golden State Valkyrie. 

***

June 2033 

Dream 64      Valkyries 87

Paige has never had particularly strong feelings towards the Atlanta Dream. They weren’t a particularly bad team, nor were they a particularly great team and Paige had simply never had an experience with them -whether it was a fan of the league or as a player in it- that was worth remembering for her to feel anything towards them. But tonight, tonight Paige fucking hates the Atlanta Dream. 

Okay maybe she doesn’t hate the team. 

She hates a certain player, a certain #11 wearing French player who’d had the audacity to hold her Stephie, to wrap her arms around her Azzi. Paige had spent the first couple of minutes of warm-ups with a deep scowl on her face as she’d watched Clémence interact with her girls. She’d hated the way Stephie grinned at the French woman, hated the way Azzi had laughed at something she’d said. But most of all Paige hated that she hadn’t been able to do any of that -hadn’t been on the receiving end of Stephie’s giggles or Azzi’s warm smile- for almost three weeks now. God she missed them so fucking much. 

It was until Jana had tapped her on the back -a knowing look in her teammate’s eyes- that Paige had finally turned away from the scene. She’d channeled all her anger and frustration into the game, playing as the most aggressive version of herself. And it had paid off in the form of a 31 points, 7 assists, 4 rebounds and 3 stocks game, another statline cementing her position in the rather early race for MVP. But all of that feels futile now as Paige -signing autographs before she had to head off to media- notices Stephie go racing back into Clémence’s arms, the little girl’s face bright with happiness as the French woman catches her and twirls her around. From the corner of her eyes, she notices Azzi walking towards the two of them and Paige normally loves Azzi’s smile -think’s it’s nothing short of being the prettiest sight in the world- but she thinks she might hate it a little bit right now when it’s directed at Clémence. 

“Aunty Chérie,” Stephie’s squeals echo clearly in Paige’s ears, despite the noise of the crowd surround her, “you played so good today.”

“Merci ma chérie,” Clémence's voice is saccharine sweet, “I’m very happy to see you. I have missed you lots. I was thinking,” Paige continues to sign another jersey but her ears are fully tuned into the conversation happening a couple meters away as Clémence’s attention turns towards Azzi, “we are leaving tomorrow morning so I have some time tonight. So I was thinking maybe I could take you and Stephie out to dinner tonight? Unless-” Paige feels both Clemence’s and Azzi’s eyes flicker to herself and she tries to keep her focus on the fans in front of her, “unless perhaps you are going with someone else?”

Paige waits with bated breath for Azzi’s answer, wishing her telepathic plea for the brunette say no, could somehow reach her but it’s Stephie who answers first. 

“Mama please can we go,” the little girl begs immediately -her tone one that Paige knows to be the one she uses when she’s trying to get her mother to agree, “please, please, please. We haven’t gotten dinner with Aunty Chérie in so long.”

“Stephie-” there’s hesitation in Azzi’s voice but Paige knows that she’s likely to cave into her daughter’s wishes -after all Stephie isn’t asking for anything ridiculous- and she knows she has to get away, not wanting to hear anymore about Clémence’s stupid fucking dinner plans. 

Giving the fans in front of her a tight-lipped smile, Paige slowly backs away from them, eyes searching for Joyce -her companion to face the press tonight- as she heads towards the media-room. She’s so focused on looking for her teammate or perhaps she’s too in her head but she doesn’t spot the assistant carrying water bottles coming. The two of them collide with a large crash that rings around Chase Center as the bottles go flying across the court. Paige’s cheeks turn a deep shade of pink as she feels the eyes of everyone on her -none more piercing than Azzi’s- but she doesn’t dare turn around. Instead she shoots the assistant an apologetic look, gathering as many water bottles as in front of her, before she’s bolting to the press room, wondering what the fuck she's done for the universe to keep testing her like this.

*** 

Paige is the last person left in the locker room. By the time she and Joyce had returned from the press conference, most of the team had fizzled out. And so she’d taken her time -ignoring the weird look Joyce gave her considering normally they were all eager to get home- showering and getting changed. She’d come out of the shower to a desolate locker room and as she’d sat on the bench, drying her damp hair, she’d let herself succumb to all the thoughts she’d been suppressing. 

It’s somehow worse this time; it hurts more in a way that Paige hadn’t known was possible. They hadn’t been together nearly as long as they were back then and their relationship was barely defined. But at least last time, Paige had been able to run to another side of the country where she wasn’t constantly reminded of her ex. Azzi isn’t even technically an ex this time, but there’s no avoiding her. Not when they’re on the same team, not when she’s a coach at her daughter’s camp.  And Paige doesn’t quite know what’s harder, trying to find oxygen in an air devoid of Azzi and Stephie’s presence, or trying to breathe when they’re near her.

Perhaps that’s why it’s so different. Paige has lost Azzi before and even if that doesn’t make the hurt any less, at least she has a blueprint for how to cope with it. But she doesn’t know how to deal with losing Stephie, doesn’t know how to not miss the little girl’s smile and her big doey eyes and the way she’d used to wrap her arms around Paige like she was trying to bind them together forever. 

But more than anything, more than missing Azzi or Stephie, Paige misses the three of them together. She misses Azzi’s exasperated look when she and Stephie would indulge in some sort of ridiculous drama. She misses the little girl’s mischievous look before she’d launch herself into both of their arms. She misses her own soft smile as she’d watch the two of them engage in the most mundane things. She misses the peaceful silence as they’d eat together and the noisy chaos when they’d argue over what movie to watch afterwards. She misses everything. 

And the worst part is that she knows she wouldn’t be missing any of it, if it wasn’t for the barriers she’s put up herself. This is a cage of Paige’s own making and the key to open the lock rests in her own hands. She just needs to be brave enough to use it. Azzi words run amok in her head, the reassurance that Paige could have time clouded by the reluctant warning that eventually that time would run out. 

“Hey,” she snaps herself out of her thoughts to see Azzi cautiously entering the locker room, her playing jersey swapped from a casual green top and cargo pants. 

Paige swallows, “hi.”

“I uh- I was um-” Azzi’s eyes nervously dart around the room as she strides over to her locker, picking up the pink lipgloss -one Paige has the taste of memorized- that’s sitting on the bench under it, “I forgot this so I uh- I came back to grab it.”

“Cool,” Paige replies monotonously but her head’s already racing with thoughts of will you let her kiss it off of you the way you let me? And she knows -she trusts- that Azzi won’t but even the possibility of it lights a small fire within her. 

Azzi chews on her lips as she nods, before starting to walk towards the door but she stops last second, turning around with the starts of a smile on her lips, “you were amazing tonight P. I mean you have been since the season started but tonight especially, you were just- you were you. You were awesome.”

Paige absorbs the compliments, tries to use it to douse the simmering jealousy that’s flaming up within her at the knowledge that once Azzi leaves this locker room, she’s likely going with Clémence. 

“Thanks,” the blonde manages to get out and it’s a little short and rather icy but Paige thinks it’s probably better than saying all the other things that are on the tip of her tongue. 

Azzi’s face dims at the curt reply, smile faltering as she nods, “anytime, P.”

That should be it. Paige should let her go, should be content with this small interaction that’s the most she’s gotten from outside of practice in weeks. But then the bitter words are waterfalling from her lips faster than she can stop them and despite the regret she feels immediately after, there’s a part of her that’s relieved when it makes Azzi come to a halt right in front of the door. 

“Your girl played well too,” she bites out, the acidic words burning her tongue. 

Azzi doesn’t turn around but Paige notices the way her shoulders go rigid, “don’t do this Paige. You know she’s not my girl.”

Paige ignores her, “11 points, 2 rebounds, 1 assist. Not bad numbers. Decent. But not better than yours of course.”

“Paige,” there's a warning note in Azzi’s voice, like she knows exactly where Paige is going with this.

“I’m just saying, “ Paige shrugs with a casualness that’s in stark contrast to the tension lingering in the air, “she’s a decent player. But you’d never be in her shadow. Never be known as just her anything.”

Azzi turns around slowly and Paige feels her anger dissipate as quickly as it had erupted when she takes in the way the brunette’s eyes are brimming with tears. 

“Seriously?” Azzi grits out, “you’re seriously gonna throw that in my face right now?”

“I’m not throwing anything in your face. I’m stating a fact-”

“Oh bullshit-”

“It’s not bullshit,” Paige yells before she sucks in a sharp breath, closing her eyes to calm herself down before she continues, “it’s not bullshit,” she repeats, “it is a fact and that fact is the reason why we’re here right now.”

“What do you mean?” Azzi crosses her arms across her body. 

“Nine years ago you said no-”

“Oh my god,” Azzi says exasperatedly, “we can’t keep going over this again.”

“We have to Azzi,” Paige cuts her off, “we have to because you said no. And you broke my heart and you broke my trust. And that’s why we’re here right now. That’s why I made the deal with the Liberty and that’s why I can’t let of my escape plan and that’s why I can’t promise to stay and that’s why we have to keep going over it. Because I’m trying, “her voice cracks as the first tear slides down, “god Azzi- I’m trying so fucking hard baby but how do I know you won’t say no me -to us- again?”

Azzi stares at her with an undecipherable expression, her fists clenching and unclenching by her sides. It feels like an eternity passes in between them as they look at each other, breathing heavily almost in sync, until the brunette finally speaks. 

“Well how do I know you won’t leave again?”

Paige blinks in confusion, “excuse me?”

“You keep accusing me of all of these things Paige but you’re the one that keeps leaving,” Azzi says and they both know she isn’t just talking about nine years ago, “I know- I know I made a mistake. But when I said no all I asked for was a little bit of time. That’s all I asked for Paige. Time. Just like you’re asking for right now. And I know- I know we said a whole lot of shit that night -I said a bunch of fucking things I shouldn’t have- but- god Paige you didn’t even give it a day. I came to find you less than 24 hours later and you were gone,” she chokes on the last word and Paige wants nothing more than to cradle the younger woman in her arms, take away her pain and shield her from ever feeling anything like it again. 

“Az-”

“And if you’d just waited -just given me a little bit of time,” Azzi continues as if she hadn’t even heard the blonde attempt to speak, “then maybe you would have known that I wasn’t saying no forever. Just for a little bit, just for then. But you just- you left.”

“You said a lot more than just no,” Paige says frustratedly. 

It’s Azzi’s turn to look guilty and Paige can almost see the memories of that night flashing in her mind, “I know that but I would’ve taken it all back if you’d just waited.”

“How could I have known that?” Paige whispers and she’s not sure if she’s defending herself from Azzi or from that voice in her head -the one she’d done her best to silence- that’s always wondered if she’d made a mistake immediately leaving for Dallas the morning after. 

“You couldn’t have,” Azzi says softly, sounding almost defeated, “the same way that you don’t know that I won’t say no again. The same way that I don’t know if you’ll leave again,” she sighs as she sits down next to Paige, “but that’s life Paige. We don’t know what’s gonna happen in the future and we can’t- we can’t predict what someone else will do. All we can do is try and trust ourselves and trust each other.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Paige nudges her shoulder and Azzi lets out a short laugh. 

“I know it’s not. Trust me, I know it’s hard. There’s about five hundred different voices in my head saying that I should stop waiting or whatever it is I’m doing right now. That I should let you go for good. That even if you end this whole Liberty bullshit, you’ll still leave me -leave us- eventually.”

“But?” Paige presses and she feels like she’s teetering on the edge of a cliff, like the next words out of Azzi’s mouth will determine whether she falls or flies. 

“But,” Azzi breathes out as she turns to look at Paige with a slightly wistful smile, “there’s this one voice in my head, clearer than all the rest that says I should trust you -that I should believe in us- that maybe we just need to get through this one last hurdle to get back to each other,” the younger woman reaches out to squeeze Paige’s hand gently before she stands up, “I think you just need to find that voice too P.”

“I’m scared Az,” Paige says softly. 

“I am too,” Azzi admits as she leans down to brush the blonde’s tears away with her thumb, “trusting is really fucking scary. I get it. but maybe- maybe it would be a little less scary if we did it together.”

Paige shudders when Azzi presses a kiss to her forehead, the brunette's lips lingering long after she’s embedded every unspoken thought into it. She pulls away almost reluctantly, patting Paige’s cheeks lightly before starting to walk back towards the door. 

“Azzi,” the blonde calls out, mouth going a little drying when Azzi turns over her shoulder, “don’t go to dinner with Clémence.” 

Go with me. Let me take you and Stephie out to dinner instead. 

“Don’t hold on to the deal with the Liberty,” Azzi says quietly in lieu of an actual answer, “say you’ll stay.”

Paige falters, “Az I-”

“I already told you P,” there’s a sad smile on Azzi’s face before she turns away, “you can have time or you can have us but you can’t have both. Not right now. 

“Azzi-”

“I hope you find that voice soon Paige and I hope it leads you back to me.”

***

August 2032 

Paige is standing in a corner -a dirty Shirley in her hand- cackling at a joke that Cam had just made when she sees her entering and the laughter dies in her throat. Cam notices the change immediately, her eyes tracking Paige’s gaze until they land on the brunette who’s being pulled into a series of congratulatory hugs by players from other countries. 

“So where did y’all go last night?” the LA Sparks center asks casually 

“What?” Paige asks distractedly, her eyes narrowing when she notices a familiar French player inching towards the door for a hug of her own. 

“You and Azzi,” Cam clarifies and Paige swallows at the mention of her name, “y’all disappeared while we were all still celebrating. Lowkey felt like we were back in Belarus all over again when y’all just kept going off somewhere with each other,” the taller woman shoots Paige a teasing grin, “so where’d you go?”

“Just uh- just needed some air,” Paige bites her lip at the lie. 

Because the truth is that once they’d left the hotel bar, and they’d practically pounced on each other -from the elevator till they’d made it to Paige’s hotel room- they’d barely come up for air. The feeling of each other’s lips and bare skin was more intoxicating than any drink they’d consumed -maybe even more intoxicating than the Olympic Gold medal they’d finally won together earlier that day- and neither of them seemed to care about unimportant matters such as breathing. 

Cam quirks an eyebrow as she sips at her drink, “if you say so Bueckers.”

“I do say so,” Paige retorts before dislodging herself from the wall she’d been leaning against, eyes still tracking every moment Azzi made, “we should- we should go say hi.”

“We should, should we?” Cam smirks but the sweet angel she is, she falls into step easily with Paige as they start walking across the room. 

The banquet hall is buzzing with players dancing and drinking and mingling with each other. Now that the basketball portion of the Olympics was over, they’d all returned from being fierce competitors playing for their country, to being the friendly co-players they all were. Laughter and chatter fills the air as teammates and rivals alike, reconnect at the FIBA-sponsored party that had almost all of the women’s basketball players participating in Bris2032 in attendance. 

“Azziiii,” Cam squeals as the two of them finally reach the Valkyries superstar who’d just finished hugging Gabby. 

Azzi grins when she sees Cam but it slips a little when she notices Paige next to her. She’s quick to fix it, eyes going back to Cam as she pulls the taller woman into a hug. Something pinches against Paige’s heart and she forces herself to look away; her gaze landing instead on where Gabby has walked away from the three of them to slip an arm around Marine’s waist. Paige stares wistfully at the scene -at the way Marine relaxes into Gabby’s touch as she continues whatever conversation she’d been involved in. It’s all she wants and instinctively, her eyes wander back to Azzi. 

“Hey,” Paige says slowly as Azzi lets go of Cam, disappointment coursing through her veins when all she gets is a nod of acknowledgement.

“So Azzi I was just asking Paige here, where y’all disappeared to last night?” Cam asks with a teasing tone. 

Azzi blanches as the question, “oh um- I- uh I wanted to go check in on Stephie.”

“And you needed Paige to come with you for that?” 

A distinctly pink hue begins at the base of Azzi’s neck, climbing up until it tints her cheeks, “I was a little tipsy and uh- just wanted the support I guess.”

Paige almost snorts at the response. Azzi had been way beyond tipsy and Paige wouldn’t have been any support, considering she’d been maybe two drinks away from blacking out. But she supposes, Cam probably doesn’t need to know that and she definitely doesn’t need to know what it had led to. 

“Interesting,” the taller blonde looks between the two women as she takes another sip of her drink, “Paige just said y’all needed some air.”

“I mean that- that was definitely a part of it too. The bar was getting pretty hot-” this time Paige does snort at Azzi’s answer which gets her an amused look from Cam and a very unamused look from the brunette herself. 

Cam puts her hands up in surrender, “listen if Paige says y’all needed air and if you say you needed to go see Stephie, I believe you,” she says but that cheeky grin on her face says the exact opposite. 

“Speaking of Stephie. It’s uh- it’s almost her bedtime and I should uh- I should call my Mom so I can say goodnight,” Azzi manages a tightlipped smile towards the two other women before she disappears into the crowd, heading towards the balcony. 

Paige hesitates for a second before she turns to face Cam and that shit-eating, knowing smirk on her friend’s face almost has her giving into her pride and swallowing the words she’s about to say. Almost. 

“I’m uh- I’mma go to,” she stumbles out. 

“Oh of course,” Cam grins sly, “bet Azzi needs some more support huh?”

Paige shakes her head, flashing Cam her middle finger -and rolling her eyes when it causes the taller woman to laugh- as she follows after Azzi. The chill Brisbane air swarms around her as she steps out into the balcony. Azzi’s standing right by the railing, her phone held right above her as she facetimes her daughter. Paige catches on quickly to the conversation, realizing that the little girl is telling her mother about how Tim had let her have ice-cream after dinner. 

“Stephanie Katarina Fudd,” Paige hears Tim’s voice echo through the phone as Stephanie’s eyes go wide on the screen, “I thought it was gonna be our little secret?”

She holds in a laugh, leaning back against the door, as the little girl splutters trying to justify her tattle-taling, “it’s Mama, Pops. I can’t hide things from my Mama.”

Tim scoffs but there’s no genuine irritation to it, “that’s the last time I give you ice-cream.”

Stephanie shoots him an unimpressed look, “you say that all the time Pops and then you give me ice-cream anyways.”

“She’s got you there,” Katie choruses from the back and Paige watches as she high-five her grand-daughter. 

And she doesn’t quite know what that pang in her chest means, but she’s felt it every time she’s seen Stephani and the Fudds over the course of the Olympics. The Fudds had come to Brisbane -of course they had- and every time Paige caught sight of them in the stands or watched them from the corner of her eyes, it felt like something was stinging against her rib cage. They’d all had custom #35 Azzi jerseys and their cheers were louder than every other voice in the arena any time Team USA did anything and after each win, they’d been the first people down the stairs, ready to hug envelope Azzi in a hug. At the forefront of it was Stephanie, who’d ran into her mother’s arms at lightning quick speed and Paige had watched -hoping she was being at least somewhat conspicuous- as Azzi had spun the little girl around. 

It wasn’t that the Fudds ignored Paige. In fact they’d made it a point to come over to her right after to wrap her up amidst themselves. Stephanie had come over too, her smile shy as she’d congratulated Paige on the wins. The little girl clearly didn’t quite remember their interaction from all-star last year -her eyes regarding Paige almost like a stranger- and the blonde consoles herself with the fact that Stephanie’s only four. Four year olds weren’t known for remembering things that had happened when they were three. Still, it hurt a little bit considering Paige thinks of that interaction more than she probably should.  

But even though she’d still gotten the hugs and the smiles and the congratulations, it wasn’t quite the same, wasn’t anything like she’d picture during the conversations of we’ll get customized 5+35 Bueckers-Fudd jerseys for the Olympics she’d once had with Tim and Katie. 

“Alright Stephie-Bean, Mama’s gonna head back into the party-” Paige refocuses on the conversation just in time to hear Azzi get cut off by her rather dramatic daughter.

“I can’t bel-ieve you went to another party without me Mama,” Stephanie drags out the words, “no Mama-good-night-kisses cause she pick party-time over Stephie time.”

The little girl’s joking but Paige can tell by the way it makes Azzi pause for a second -her shoulder stiffening just a little bit- that it’s hit a nerve. She wants to soothe it away, wants to wrap her arms around her from behind, hitch her chin over her neck and take away all of Azzi’s worries. And that bitter thought -the one that seems to surface every time her heart beats a little faster for the brunette, the one that had filled her head when she’d woken up next to the younger woman earlier this morning- takes birth in her head again. The thought she could have done all of that -would have the right to do it- if only Azzi had just said yes.

“I’ll make it up to you Stephie-bean,” she hears Azzi promise, “tomorrow, just you and me okay sweetheart? All of my time’s gonna be yours.”

Stephanie’s face immediately brightens up, “okay Mama,” she says happily as she blows a kiss to the screen, “love you Mama. Good night.”

“Good night sweet girl. I love you more,” Azzi choruses back, waving at the screen before she cuts the call. 

It takes her a moment to turn around and Paige watches as Azzi takes in a deep breath, a subtle smile on her face as she takes in the Brisbane skyline. When she does finally turn around, surprise filters onto her expression at seeing the blonde standing there. 

“Hey,” Paige whispers nervously, stuffing her hands into the pocket of her pants. 

Azzi looks at her for a moment, “hi.”

They stand there rigidly, letting the tension -a completely different kind than the one that had encompassed them last night- simmer between them. It’s almost like they're daring each other to say something, to address the elephant in the room. 

Azzi breaks first, “something you wanted to say?”

“Just wanted some air,” Paige says, cringing a little bit at the cliché line that she’s now used twice in one night. 

“Right,” Azzi nods, moving towards the door, “guess I’ll leave you to it then.”

Her voice is tinged with an iciness that sets Paige on edge. They haven’t been like this in a while and she’d thought they’d let go of the resentful exes gimmick they’d had going on for the first couple of years. But the hardness in Azzi’s tone suggests that it’s back with vengeance tonight. 

“Az-” Paige calls out. 

“What?” Azzi asks loudly, biting her lip when the harshness of it almost makes the blonde stumble back, “sorry I-”

But before she can apologize, Paige finds herself retaliating with the same hardness in her own tone, “what’s your fucking problem?”

“My problem?” Azzi reels back, eyes flashing with anger, “are you seriously asking me that?”

“Yes. That’s clearly what I asked,” Paige retorts. 

Azzi laughs devoid of emotion, “I woke up to an empty bed this morning and you’re asking me what my fucking problem is?”

Guilt inches it’s way up Paige’s spine but it pales in comparison to the anger that flickers in the pit of her stomach, “oh that’s rich coming from you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Is that not exactly what you did last time we fucked,” the profanity tastes acetous as it falls through Paige’s lips because it sounds wrong, like she’s insulting the sanctity of their relationship, no matter how broken it might be. 

“No it’s not,” Azzi nostrils flare, “I told you I was leaving. I had the common fucking decency to let you know. I didn’t just sneak out.”

Paige rolls her eyes, “oh spare me the semantics. It’s all the same shit at the end of the day. We both left.”

“Oh fuck you Paige,” Azzi snarls as she tries to leave but Paige is quicker, fingers wrapping around her wrist to stop her. 

And everything she’d been prepared to say dies in her throat because now they’re too close, chests heaving in harmony as their matching glares turn into something else. Paige’s eyes fall to Azzi’s lips, breath hitching when the brunette’s tongue darts out for a second to wet them. She tugs on Azzi’s wrist experimentally, pleased when there’s little hesitation and the younger woman lets herself be pulled closer. The air is electric with want as they lean in slowly, their noses brushing against each other as they wait for each other to make a move, to close the distance. 

But then there’s the sound of someone clearing their throat,  followed by someone else coughing and the two of them spring apart like they’ve been burned.

“Jesus Az, careful!” Jana’s concerned voice makes Paige’s ears perk up and she follows the Egyptians line of sight to see that Azzi had moved back so fast that she’d  fallen back against the balcony railing. 

“I’m fine,” Azzi says hurriedly but the shake in her voice betrays that she’s anything but. 

“Are you?” Paige turns to find Aaliyah watching them with the wary gaze of someone who’s been around them and their bullshit far too long, “because uh- we can hear y’all yelling from inside.”

Azzi’s eyes shoot up, panic evident on her face, “you heard us? Did you- could you hear what we said?”

Paige scoffs loudly, “oh right yeah because that would be really fucking bad wouldn’t be it Azzi? God forbid anyone found out you fucked me.”

And she doesn’t even know why she’s arguing -honestly she’s just as embarrassed at the idea of their teammates and rivals and everyone else in between actually overhearing their argument- but it pinches a nerve and she pointedly looks away from Azzi’s ashen face. 

“You guys fucked?” Paige flinches at how loud Jana is and Aaliyah lets out a low groan. 

“Jana,” the Canadian warns, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Sorry but like,” Jana looks back and forth between Paige and Azzi, dropping her voice, “y’all fucked?”

Paige sighs, feeling drained as she leans back against a pillar for support, “that’s what I said yes.”

If possible, Jana’s eyes get even wider, “so- so what does that mean for the two of you? Are you- are y’all gonna get back together?”

Azzi looks at Paige. 

Paige looks at Azzi. 

And it’s like they’re both imploring each other to answer Jana’s question and to answer it right. 

“It means nothing,” it’s the wrong answer and Paige knows it even before she says it -can tell by the way Azzi barely reacts that she knows Paige doesn’t even really believe herself- but she thinks maybe they’re not quite ready to get it right. Not yet. 

“Well there you go,” Azzi says quietly, shrugging nonchalantly at Jana, “it means nothing.”

Paige flinches at the repetition of her own words, looking away as Azzi starts walking towards the door again. The brunette’s shoulder brushes against the older woman’s -sparks igniting around them- and she hesitates. 

“It means nothing,” Azzi repeats, her voice a longing whisper only meant for Paige’s ears, “but maybe it could’ve meant something. If you’d stayed.”

***

June 2033

Paige is sulking in her room -watching film to distract herself from the images of Clémence, Azzi and Stephie together from last night that her brain is hellbent on conjuring up- when her pity party is broken up by the sound of her doorbell. She has the urge to ignore it, to stay curled up in the same position she’s been in all day. It’s a rather pathetic way to have spent one of her rare days off but it’s the only thing she’d felt like doing. But then whoever’s outside her door starts to press the bell longer and Paige huffs -irritated by the loudness of it- as she forces herself out of bed. 

She’s not sure who she was expecting. Perhaps Jana, who’d caught on rather quickly to what was happening between her two former teammates and had been making somewhat of an attempt to help fix it. Maybe Colleen, here to knock some sense into her on Azzi’s behalf. Or maybe even Tessa, who Paige had learned in the most awkward way, knew about them when the former Gamecock had made a teasing remark about the two of them the next practice, not knowing what had transpired two nights before. When both Paige and Azzi had immediately tensed, instead of blushing or rolling their eyes, Tessa had been perceptive enough to understand something had gone wrong. She’d been trying to help Jana ever since and Paige half expects it to be her at the door with words of wisdom and comfort alike. 

Who she isn’t expecting is Tim Fudd. 

His wife, she would’ve understood. After all Katie had done exactly that before and it was in the older woman’s nature to meddle just a little bit. Her husband, on the other hand, tended to stay as far out of things as possible. He could be a hovering coach and whenever Azzi’s spirits were low, he’d be there with a ridiculous dad joke and arms outstretched for a big bear hug. But when it came to his daughter’s personal life, Tim Fudd did his best not to interfere. 

Tim smiles at Paige when she opens the door, one hand holding up a bottle of whiskey with a grin on his face while his other hand is hidden behind his back. He rolls his eyes fondly when he notices the skeptical look Paige shoots at his liquor of choice before he reveals the premade bottle of dirty Shirley he’s been hiding behind his back. 

“Tsk tsk,” he grins mockingly, “what would the fans say if they knew their big bad rizzler can’t drink anything but a sweet cocktail?”

Paige shakes her head as she steps aside to let the man inside, “just cause I don’t drink cheap whiskey, doesn’t mean I don’t drink anything other than cocktails.”

“Cheap?!” Tim guffaws as the accusation, “I’ll have you know this is a Macallan.”

“You know that that means nothing to me right,” Paige says as she follows his lead into her kitchen. 

It’s almost foreign having somebody else in her space. Since Drew had left -rather hesitantly after seeing his sister’s condition- the house had been devoid of anyone else but Paige. Jana had tried to invite herself over a couple of times but it had gone in vain when Paige had chosen solitude over any company. It’s not that she particularly wants to be alone, it’s that she thinks -no, she knows- that there’s only two people who can cure this dreadful loneliness that feels like it’s become an innate part of existence. 

“Sit,” Tim says as he rummages through Paige’s cupboards for two glasses. 

Hesitating for a split second, Paige does as she's told, “did Azzi send you?”

“Are you hoping she did?’ Tim asks pointedly as he places two glasses one top of the counter, filling one with whiskey and other with dirty Shirley. 

Paige swallows as she accepts the drink from his hand, “nah,” lies, “ just uh- just feels like something she’d do.”

Tim looks at her for a minute as he takes a sip of his whiskey. 

“She didn’t send me,” he says finally and Paige tries to mask the tinge of disappointment his words send through her by taking a large swig of her shirley. 

“This tastes like shit,” she grimaces, wiping her mouth with the back of hand. 

“That premade stuff usually does. It’s that easy shit you know? The things that just exist without you doing any work. Just doesn’t hit the same as the harder stuff,” Tim says slowly as he leans back against his chair, a clear double meaning in his words. 

“You’re using alcohol as a metaphor? So I guess Katie sent you then?” Paige manages a half-smile but she feels her stomach churn at the implication of what he’d just said. 

Tim laughs, “it was my idea actually.”

“Her meddling rubbing off on you?” Paige quirks an eyebrow. 

Tim shakes his head, “I’m not here to meddle. Just wanted to tell you a story.”

Paige sighs, “so you are here to meddle then.”

Tim ignores her, fiddling with the glass of whiskey in his hands, “did you know Katie and I almost didn’t end up together?”

Paige stares at the older man in shock. Maybe she shouldn’t be so surprised; relationships were complicated after all. But for all the years she’d known Tim and Katie, they’d always been just that. TimAndKatie. The epitome of stableness that had stood strong amongst all the other relationships Paige had watched break down one by one.

“Don’t look so shocked,” Tim says lightly when he notices how wide Paige’s eyes have gotten, “everyone makes mistakes. We’re all capable of doing dumb shit that almost makes us lose everything we’ve ever loved.”

Paige gulps, “what- what did you do?”

“I left,” Tim says slowly. 

“You left?” the familiar words make Paige nauseous and she wonders if that slightly regretful look on Azzi’s dad’s face is echoed on her own. 

“It was a couple months into our relationship and Katie and I had a huge fight. It was about her not letting me make a decision about Azzi,” Tim explains and the similarity of the situation almost makes Paige want to block her ears. 

“It was something small, something stupid. Probably nothing that even mattered cause I don’t even remember it. But I remember how I felt. I was really fucking mad but more than anything I think- I think I was scared. Because that argument, it was a remind that even though I loved her so fucking much, Azzi wasn’t mine. Not yet. And that if I lost Katie, I’d lose her too. The idea of losing Katie was scary enough but losing both of them? I didn’t know how to deal with that,” Tim's voice shakes, like he’s relieving his biggest fears and Paige feels her own eyes start to water; his words settling salt in her still-raw open wounds. 

“And it got so heated and we were yelling all this bullshit at each other that eventually I just- I didn’t know what else to do and I just- I started to leave. And Azzi- I guess we were so loud we woke her up- she- she saw me leaving,” there’s an unfamiliar grave look on the normally jovial old man’s face as he reminisces that night, “she ran down the stairs and threw herself at my knees begging me not to go but I- I was so mad and so fucking scared that I walked away anyways.”

“How- how did you fix it?” Paige asks, her voice almost pleading as she wipes away the droplets of water running freely down her cheeks. 

“Well not immediately that’s for sure,” Tim cracks a smile, trying to lighten the mood, “took me a little bit of time to pull my head out of my ass and when I finally did, Katie wasn’t so quick to forgive me for it either. And it wasn’t about her or me or us, it was about Azzi. The first time I showed up, she didn’t even let me in. Said she could only let me through that door again if I could promise to stay. Because Azzi had seen me leave once and she wasn’t gonna let her see it again.”

“It must’ve killed you,” Paige whispers, her stomach twisting in knots, “the guilt of hurting her.”

Tim nods, “it did but I think- or at least I hope I’ve made up for it now.”

“You have,” Paige reaches over to squeeze his arm gently, “how did you get her to forgive you?”

“Simple,” Tim places his own hand over hers as he continues, “we talked it out. I explained all my fears to her. How scared I was of losing her, of losing Azzi. And she- she understood because she was scared too, scared of losing me, scared of Azzi losing me. In the end we were both scared of the same thing but all of that got a whole lot less scary when we faced it together.”

Maybe it would be a little less scary if we did it together

“How did you get over it,” Paige asks, almost desperately, “the fear of losing them? How did you move past that?”

Tim smiles wistfully, “time. Not time apart but time together. It wasn’t easy taking that first step, facing that fear but I knew if I wanted them, it was what I was gonna have to do. And I had to trust Katie, that if I stayed, she’d stay.”

“And she stayed,” Paige says softly. 

“Yeah she did,” this time, Tim’s grin breaks through his entire, “and the more time she stayed, the more my trust in her grew until one day I just knew. I knew she wasn’t gonna leave ever again. Well, maybe she’s thought about it a couple of times like when I nearly burnt the house down tryna make cookies or when I accidentally tore a hole in our wall tryna hang up a photo frame. 

Paige lets out a watery laugh as Tim winks at her, everything suddenly seeming a lot more simple than it had before the older man had walked through her door. 

“I know it’s not quite the same for you and Azzi,” Tim continues slowly, “you guys have a history that Katie and I didn’t. You both have more reasons to be scared than the two of us did. But Paige, I’ve always thought you were it for my baby girl. From the moment she came back from USA camp and all she could talk about was you, I just knew.”

Paige can’t help the broken sob that escapes her lips and Tim immediately rounds the kitchen counter to wrap an arm around her shoulder. 

“When she was pregnant with Stephie, she kept on asking for mint-choc chip ice cream. Said it was a craving or something. And she decorated everything for her in purple. All the baby clothes she bought were shades of purple,” he doesn’t quite say why Azzi did all of that but there’s a clear implication in his words. 

And Paige thinks that probably,  why she and Stephie are so similar, why they shared so many favorites, why the little girl had always felt like hers. Because Azzi had given a part of Paige to her daughter, even when she hadn’t had Paige herself. 

“Katie and Azzi, they’re mine but I think- I think if maybe someone else had gotten to them first -someone who loved them just as much as I do- maybe there’s a chance things would be different but Paige,” Tim squeezes the younger woman gently, “I think Azzi’s always been waiting for you. Subconsciously at least. There’s never really been anybody elese for her. Her and Stephie, they’ve both always been waiting for you, they’ve both always been yours.”

“You mean that?” Paige asks croakily and she feels like she’s a teenager again, asking Tim to pinky promise that he’d like her box-dyed purple hair no matter what. 

“I do,” Tim smiles as he looks at her, “and I think they’ll be yours forever. I think they want to be. You just have to say you’ll stay.”

[lo1k-diamonds]

Unique | KNJ | Masterpost

PAIRING: idol!Namjoon x OFC

SUMMARY: Namjoon dedicated his whole life to being a diligent idol, putting the music and group above his individual needs and desires. He believes he's doing the right thing until an unexpected meeting shifts how he sees the world. But life isn't easy, and even a unique connection can't change fate. Or can it?

WORD COUNT: 81.1k (ongoing)

GENRE:  Idol AU, strangers to lovers, time jumps, star-crossed lovers, angst, smut

RATING: R (explicit) (not all parts)

WARNINGS: (check each individual part) explicit smut, one-night stand but not really, angst, protected sex, oral, fingering, handjob, toys, sapiosexuality, body worship, dirty talk, mouth riding, switching, making out and dry humping in a moving car without a seatbelt on, BTS being chaotic around Namjoon and making him all embarrassed, alcohol, getting drunk, arguments, smoking, parallel Yoongi x OFC

A.N. Unique has a really special place in my heart. It was never supposed to be more than a one-shot with a bittersweet ending. All I wanted was to portray Namjoon as accurately as possible. Then, a year later, I decided I wanted Yoongi (yes, him) to have a chance at a different outcome, and now, another year later, I want Namjoon to have it, too. It's peculiar that every part has been written with the same time intervals as the story, and I'm contemplating keeping this tradition for future parts. Since @eerieedits already created wonderful visuals, it only makes sense to show them! (thank you!) I hope you all enjoy this star-crossed lovers story featuring our incredible Joonie 💜

Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Schedule and WIPs

He was in love with their time, place and interaction, but it was limited. There was no heartbreak because of that agreement. Seeing her again was not part of the deal, but who was he kidding? That chance was too sweet to miss, too tempting to refuse.

SUMMARY: After overhearing something he shouldn't have, Namjoon promises to make it up to the bride by keeping her bridesmaid company during the rehearsal dinner party. What was supposed to be an unremarkable night became something so much more.

WORD COUNT: 20.8k

RATING: R (explicit)

I wanted to be the guy you chose to come and find and chat with, not the one Hyejin asked to babysit you and that you didn’t want to meet.

Read here 👉 [Tumblr] [AO3] [Wattpad]

SUMMARY: It's a year later when Angie decides to visit Hyejin, both women looking to get away from their problems. But a certain group is just pausing their tour, and old feelings are rekindled when their paths cross.

WORD COUNT: 60.2 k

RATING: R (explicit)

Be the person I was searching for and found, not the one I have to let go of.

Read here 👉 [Tumblr] [AO3] [Wattpad]

Chapter 1 [Snippet 🚀] [Post ✍️]

Chapter 2 [Snippet 🚀] [Post ✍️]

Chapter 3 [Snippet 🚀] [Post ✍️]

Chapter 4 [Snippet 🚀] [Post ✍️]

Chapter 5 [Snippet 🚀] [Post ✍️]

Chapter 6 [Snippet 🚀] [Post ✍️]

Chapter 7 [Snippet 🚀] [Post ✍️]

Chapter 8 [Snippet 🚀] [Post ✍️]

Chapter 9 [Snippet 🚀] [Post ✍️]

Chapter 10 [Snippet 🚀] [Post ✍️]

SUMMARY: (coming soon...) Now that the PTD tour was coming to a close, Namjoon dreamt of meeting the one lover he couldn’t forget. Unfortunately, things have changed.

WORD COUNT: 11.7 k

RATING: PG-13

Isn't that what we're made of? Our dreams and regrets.

Read here 👉 [Tumblr] [AO3] [Wattpad]

(coming... March 2026?)

I wanted all seasons with you, but in the end, I got none.

(coming... September 2026?)

Is it finally time?

[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.

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[multifandomgirl08]

The One That I Adore [Bittersweet Mini Series]

Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader

Summary: She promised him that he would see her again. She just never said when that would be.

A/N: Sorry for the super long wait of this chapter. My inspiration for this work has been at a bit of a stand still. But I already have the next two chapters started so they will hopefully be done sooner.

Words: 3.5k

Previous Part → Next Part Bittersweet Masterlist

This whole night was too much for him. Charles could appreciate being in Santorini for the awards ceremony but had no desire to stay for the actual gala after the awards were handed out.  

Charles had been with Lando, Pierre, Max, and Max’s wife at the awards ceremony. Giving out the awards had ended half an hour ago. The married couple had disappeared about 10 minutes ago and they hadn’t been seen since.

“Has anyone seen the Verstappen’s?” Lando asked.

“I think they went back to their hotel,” Pierre replied. That was what everyone assumed happened when Max unexpectedly disappeared from a party. Either they went home if they were in Monaco, or Belgium, or back to their hotel room for the night. It wasn’t like it mattered, Max had already done all of his media duties for the night.

“Really?” Lando asked, Charles could tell from the tone of his voice that his question was littered with a sarcastic tone. “Because I’m pretty sure I just saw them snogging in the corner by the coat closet.”

Lando pointed in the direction of the way out of the room. Charles couldn’t help but lightly chuckle.

“It’s like their wedding all over again,” Lando said with a slight groan. “Only this time, Daniel isn’t taking pictures of the whole thing.”

“At least it’s not Barcelona 2023 when she decided to surprise Max.” Pierre couldn’t help but bring up with a laugh.

“I told both of them and you that it was an accident.” Lando just shook his head, but Charles could spot the light blush that was now painting Lando’s cheeks.

Charles knew that Lando was tired of hearing about that time when he had walked up to Max’s hotel room after the Grand Prix was over to ask if he wanted to get drinks and ended up finding the hotel room door not all the way closed, and Max and his then-girlfriend, now wife in a compromised position. There was never enough brain bleach to remove what Lando saw from his memory when he walked into that hotel room that day.

“What’s going on with you?” Pierre asked as they stood together. “You have been acting strange since the moment I saw you.”

Sometimes Charles forgot how well Pierre knew him. Charles hadn’t really been talking to any of the other guys. His eyes were too busy running over the crowds of people looking for her, he hadn’t seen her since he showed up. The one bright spot of his whole evening was nowhere to be seen.

“Nothing.” He quickly replied. Pierre gave him a look that would have given his less-than-stellar English a run for its money.

“You are lying through your teeth.” Pierre’s switch to French made Lando look at them both.

“I’m not lying, I’m just looking at the people.” He raised his shoulders in defense.

“Right,” Pierre said before looking away.

Charles looked through the crowd of people again not seeing her anywhere. Maybe she wasn’t here tonight, maybe something had come up with her schooling or something. Hadn’t she said that her uncle normally came to these events instead of her?

“Carlos,” Charles heard Lando say. “Can you please help me out with Charles? It’s like he’s on another planet or something.”

Charles pulled up the sleeve of his dress shirt to look at his watch. It read 9:45 pm. He was allowed to leave by 11:30 after all of his press duties were done. That’s what he gets for showing up late.

“I’m sorry Lando, but I can not help you,” Carlos said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Why not?”

“Because he has been like this since Monaco.”

“That was six months ago.” Charles wanted to correct Lando, it wasn’t six months it had been seven months since the Monaco Grand Prix.

Charles hadn't bothered telling anyone else on the grid about her. Max knew and so did his wife. Charles didn't want to be teased by any of the other drivers when it came to her. He was too scared that she would run from him and he wouldn't see her again, and he wasn’t willing to bet on that.

The rest of the Gala passed by painstakingly slow, Charles didn’t see her anywhere and at this point was pretty sure that she either wasn’t here or negated her promise to him.

At one point Charles got stuck in a conversation with a few of the Ferrari sponsors and one of them had mentioned that his niece was supposed to come with him tonight but couldn’t because of a scheduling issue with her school. His interests peaked for a moment. But it couldn’t be her, there was no way they were the same person.

By the time 11:15 rolled around, Charles said his goodbyes to Fred after managing to slip away from the crowds of people, and made his way out to his car to go back to his hotel. Once he got to the hotel, he changed out of his suit and then quickly sat at his little portable piano. His fingers glided over the black and white keys. A somber melody played as he tried to think of her, dancing in her red dress, in the reverie of his mind.

The Ferrari Fashion show was something that Charles had grown used to. It was a part of driving for the team. He would get to sit in a crowd, hopefully be unrecognizable, and watch clothes go down a runway.

There were so many faces that he didn’t recognize, not a single sponsor in the room, but plenty of influencers, and fashion people that he didn’t normally rub elbows with.

It was easy to find his seat from there, it was on a white card on the backrest in the first row towards the front of the white runway. Some people were already sitting, others were standing by their seats.

He took his time walking over, seeing people in Ferrari branded clothes, or some off shade color of the famous Rosso corsa. He took a seat, and could see Lewis on the other side of the runway in a red Louis Vuitton set with black shoes.

More seats started to fill up, and for a moment he swore he saw her pass by in one of the back rows. But as soon as she was there, the lights had started to dim signifying the show starting.

Charles did his best to keep his eyes on the models and the clothes that were coming down the runway, but sometimes the light would hit just past the first row and he would go looking for her in the crowd.

The show felt like it lasted forever, models going around an endless carousel. The sound of cameras constantly clicking felt like hands on a clock going around and around, click, click, click.

The show eventually ended, people started walking out in little packs. Charles stayed behind for a few moments before someone knocked shoulders with him pushing him towards the front of the room. There was supposed to be some dinner happening after the show that he wasn’t sure if he would be going to.

“I think it would be good for you to go.” He heard from an older gentleman standing next to someone. “You’re working for us now, you’re going to have to get used to being around these types of people.”

“I know uncle,” He heard in a voice he had memorized by now.

“You’ll do great. I believe that you can impress any person in this room if you try.”

She gave the man a nod and heard her say, ”I’ll try.”

He was quick to reply afterwards saying that he would see her after the dinner and to text if she needed anything. He saw the older man get into a black town car and drive away.

She was still standing there and Charles took small steps towards her. He was pretty sure that she wasn’t paying him any attention, just looking from her phone to the back alley of the venue. When she finally did look up, their eyes instantly met. He felt like he could see a glimpse of worry fill her eyes for a moment before it disappeared.

It took her a moment to say anything, and he could tell how awkward she felt for a bit. Eventually they talked about the show, which was a little boring but he hadn’t seen her in almost a year and didn’t want to push her.

“Are you heading to the dinner now?”

“Yeah, just waiting for my car.”

“We can take mine since we are going to the same place.” He felt like he was pushing his luck a little, asking if she would want to sit in an enclosed space with him for the half-an hour it would take to get to their dinner location.

“Umm,” She said, sounding a little unsure. “Okay. I guess.”

She was quick to tuck her phone into the small handbag that was hanging off her wrist. They walked over to the valet and waited until the red Ferrari pulled up. They both got in with the sound of Ambient Downtempo music that filled the silence of the car ride, it wasn’t Charles’ normal preference but she didn’t seem to mind, even having the courage to reach over and turn the stereo up at a song she seemed to like.

For Charles it was definitely a challenge to drive through the city and be able to concentrate on the road while she was sitting so close to him. Just as Charles felt like he was gaining the courage to talk to her they had pulled up to where the dinner was being hosted. He was happy to see that there weren’t any cameras around the car waiting to catch pictures of him.

Charles had gotten out of the car. He intended to walk over to the other side to open her door, but the valet had beat him to it. However, he still waited for her, giving her his arm so it would be a little easier to walk in. “Thank you.” She muttered before tucking her head a little low. He gave her a smile, trying to do his best to reassure her. He didn’t know why he felt like he needed to. They made their way through before finding out that they would be sitting at different tables. They were sectioned off by number, she had tucked the place card into her bag before he got the chance to look. Charles took his but still let her hold onto his arm before they walked into the room finally separating.

He let her slip away from him, doing nothing more than exchanging a smile and parting ways. He was sure that he would see her again tonight.

Dinner had been a slow affair. He had been sitting with Lewis, and although his fellow teammate was nice to talk to about team things, he would have preferred to sit and talk with her instead. The second course had come and Lewis had left to the other side of the room. He saw her move from her chair at a far table, moving closer to the side of the room that he was on. He had been eating through his burrata and tomatoes when he could see her again. “I am so sorry.” He heard close to him. “You were sitting over there right?” He didn’t hear a response. “I hate to ask, but would you mind switching tables with me?”

“Sure.” He heard before he saw a woman with blonde hair move out of her seat that was at the same table as Charles and saw her move into that seat instead. 

He had watched the blonde woman move to the far side of the room, retaking the further seat and started talking to someone at that table. This was Charles’ opportunity to talk to her again, she was only sitting on the other side of his table.

He lifted his hand up slightly trying to catch her attention. She barely lifted her hand back to wave at him before he moved his napkin off his lap and onto the chair next to him. He was hoping that she would have the courage to come and sit next to him since he seemed to be the only person that she knew here.

She didn’t, at least not at first. She seemed to pick at the food on her plate taking a few bites before placing her fork back down. He always felt like a bit of a voyeur looking at her, watching as her eyes moved around the room until they stopped at him.

Her eyes looked at him as if she was asking as if it was okay to come up to him, her eyes going slightly to his left to the open chair where his napkin was. He gave her a small nod, telling her it was okay to sit with him despite the fact that it was someone else's seat.

She had moved from her seat and over to him, he picked up his napkin and placed it back in his lap pushing his chair out just a tad so he could turn away from Lewis’ chair to talk to her.

It takes her a few moments to move from one chair to another. He notices that she sets her bag down first before pulling the chair out.

"Hey," she greets him.

"Hi." He can't help but say back. For all the flirting that he has done with her the last few times he saw her he can't seem to do that anymore. He knows a family member of hers is a team sponsor, he would love to pretend that he is unaware of this.

"You weren't at the last Gala," He blurts out.

Her eyes filled with recognition, "Yeah, something with school came up. I was in my last semester and had finals but I'm now out of college and working for my uncle."

So, she hadn't negated on her promise. "It was not the same without you," He says before he can stop himself. "Too stuffy, sitting around waiting for things to happen." Charles knows he's rambling a bit but he did miss her. He needs to finally get the courage to ask for her number, that would be much easier.

"Is this like that as well?" She asked.

"No," He moved to pick up his fork. "I get to leave after dinner and get to go back to my hotel."

"You don't go party after?"

"No, no. I am not Lando." Placing his fork down and waving his hands in protest.

"So what do you do then?"

"Normally I go and play my piano in my room, or watch something." He enjoyed his solitude. It was part of his whole tortured artist thing that Arthur liked to make jokes about. Which was funny since his younger brother was very much the same.

She doesn't say anything for a moment. Did she think that was an invitation to come back to his hotel with him?

"I'm sorry," she says. "I'm bad at this... We keep meeting at these events and-"

"It never goes further?" He asks. She nods back at him.

“Maybe we can exchange numbers or-” He started to say and then cut himself off. No, bad idea. Her family worked for his team.

“Or?” She askes.

“Next time, you can come with me?” He lets himself ask. He knows he’s taking a risk.

“Come with you?” She asks back.

“Yes, I pick you up from your hotel or where you are staying. We can cordinate with whoever sets you up to come to these events.” This feels like a longshot. She won’t agree to this.

“Do you really want to see me that badly again?” She asks. He can feel like she wants to say that she’s not special enough for that.

All he can do is nod at her. There is nothing else that he can say. Or nothing that he can say that he knows won’t scare her off. He would like to say that he feels like he’s falling for her, that he wants to get to know her more, to feel like he has a tangable part of her for him to grab onto instead of just the moments they seem to catch each other in.

He doesn’t want to keep thinking of her as the girl who sneaks off during the party, he wants to always have the image of her dancing in his mind to the melody that comes from his fingers. He’s sick of looking at the incomplete page of sheet music, it’s been tauning him since he last saw her.

“I-” She starts to say and then cuts herself off. “I can-” She’s cut off by someone coming to their table.

“Uncle,” She quickly says to the older man he saw at the Prize Giving Gala at the end of last year. Her eyes are wide, she is obviously surprised to see him.“I thought I was going to see you after.”

“You were supposed to, but something came up.” The older man says. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m taking a flight back home. My assistant will call you in the morning with your flight details. I don’t want you to feel stranded here without knowing what’s going on.”

She gives him a nod back.

The older man looks at him and then back to her.

“Take care of her son.” He said to Charles. “I’ll call you when your at home on Monday.”

The older man leaves them. Charles can’t help but let out a heavy breath.

She immediately starts to apologize after, “He’s like that with everyone.”

“And you work for him?” He asks.

“He offered me a job after I was finished with school, a good stepping stone.”

“And you also live with him?” He can’t help but ask even though he knows that he’s assuming.

“No, I don’t. My uncle lives in New York. When I was going to school I lived in Los Angeles, but I work at my uncles office in Monaco… It’s been a big adjustment these last 6 months.”

Ah that explains a lot of things, it really seemed like she just disappeared from the world for a while. She probably has been under a lot of stress.

“Well, I would still like to go to the next event with you. If you can clear it with your uncle.”

“I would love to but I’m not sure if-” She starts to say.

And he can read the rejection, he knows what it is.

He instead reaches for his phone before she can say anything else.

“Just take my number. If he says no, then I at least know that you tried.” He takes the place card with his name on it and shovels around in the pockets of his jacket. He knows he has a pen somewhere even though he hates that it’s become a habit that he now carries one with him.

He starts to write it before slowly handing it over.

He watches as she tentatively takes it from him and slips it into her small bag that doesn’t even look big enough to fit a phone in.

He can only sit and keep talking to her from there. Her shoulders seem to loosen again after a bit. They bring out the next course of food and sit and talk as they both pick at what ends up on their plates.

There is a low brrng of a phone going off close to them before she looks down and sees her pull out a phone from under her dress. It doesn’t look like it would fit into the bag she has with her.

‘I’m sorry.’ she mouthes and then moves to walk to the other side of the room.

He can feel that she is being forced away from him, and all he wants to do is sink his fingers around her wrist and pull her back.

He doesn’t though. He watches her be pulled away from him to the other side of the room to talk to whoever is on the phone, and then into a conversation with someone else to rub shoulders with other people he doesn’t care to acknowledge. She seems to disappear into the night at some point, after being paraded around the room and all he can do it wait for the dinner to end and go back to his hotel room. He doesn’t bother changing, opens the piano cover and sinks his fingers into the keys on the far right end, the haunting notes spilling from his fingers.

It seems like she will continue to live in his daydreams a little longer.

He finds the sheet music with her melody on it and at the top of the page writes;

He places the pen on the sheet music stand and leaves it sitting there. We will meet again, he promises himself after he’s moved off the piano stool to finally change out of his suit.

Bittersweet taglist: @omgsuperstarg, @bite-me-en-la-boca, @itsjustkhaos, @cixrosie, @konsti081

[lilacxquartz]

Chapter Directory

If you’re looking to read a series, then I got you. Everything from 3 or more chapters is catalogued here for your convenience.

Those Late Summer Nights

satoru gojo x f!reader x suguru geto

Plot: Your life takes an uncertain turn after you take on a teaching role in the big city. Tags: canon divergent, love triangle yandere, violence, dark content warning (non-con/dub-con). Happy ending.

Chapter 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16 • 17 • 18 • 19 • 20 • 21 • 22 • 23 • 24 • 25 • 26 • 27 • 28 • 29 • 30 • 31 • Final Chapter

ao3 link

~~~

Don’t Make Me Feel Alive

kenjaku (pseudo geto) x f!reader

Plot: While you were on your deathbed, a mysterious man with the claim of being able to help offers you his assistance. Tags: canon universe, yandere, dark content warning (non-con/dub-con), violence. Open ending.

Chapter 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • Final chapter

ao3 link

~~~

Chasing Humanity

kenjaku x f!reader

Plot: You saw something you shouldn’t have one night and now you were part of the problem. Tags: mundane au, yandere x yandere, violence, two evil characters who fall in love. Ending has not been yet planned, but will continue for a while as long as I have the interest in Kenjaku.

Chapter 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11

ao3 link

~~~

The Life You Lived

kenjaku x future vessel reader

Plot: Being the daughter of someone important, you were used to unwanted attention, but nothing could have prepared you for him.

Chapter 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • Final Chapter

ao3

~~~

To Save A Broken Soul

suguru geto x cursed spirit f!reader

Plot: Roaming around the forced as a neutral cursed spirit, your life became a nightmare from the moment you came across Suguru Geto. Tags: yandere, non-human reader, dark content (non-con/character death, horror). Sad ending.

Chapter 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • Final chapter

ao3 link

~~~

First Impressions

choso kamo x gn!reader

Plot: While lost in Shibuya on halloween night, you come across a strange man. Tags: shibuya incident arc spoilers, protective yandere x reader. Open/happy ending.

Chapter 1 • chapter 2 • Final chapter

ao3 link

—

A Sight For Sore Eyes

mahito x f!reader

Plot: After a major accident, you temporarily lost your ability to see and during your recovery, you begin to suspect that your boyfriend wasn’t who he claimed to be. Tags: horror, violence, yandere. Sad ending.

Chapter 1 • 2 • Final chapter

ao3 link

~~~

Pretty Little Trinket

shoko ieiri x f!reader

Plot: Following a shipwreck, a monster both saves you but doesn’t let you leave. Tags: harpy au, soft/protective yandere, violence. Happy/good ending.

Chapter 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • Final chapter

ao3 link

~~~

All Eyes On You

cursed spirit prison realm x gn!reader

Plot: Tasked with retrieving the prison realm, nothing could have prepared you for what it actually was. Tags: yandere, body horror, psychological horror. Sad ending.

Chapter 1 • 2 • Final Chapter

ao3 link

~~~

Beyond Hellfire

Plot: Back when you were still alive, Sukuna had once surrendered a lifetime of peace for you. When he had you incarnated for his return, however, it all went wrong. Tags: canon divergent, culling games, major manga spoilers, violence, yandere. Bittersweet Ending.

Chapter 1 • 2 • 3 • Final Chapter

ao3 link

~~~

An Imp in Fae’s Clothing

Plot: While you were minding your own business, you catch the undivided attention of a fae who you can’t seem to shake off.

Chapter 1 • 2

ao3 link

[toonedupfiction]

There You Are

I have posted this picture before but wanted to share some writing for context. This was drawn to go with a Chapter 9 of Legacy Disowned Book 2 that was all in Sebastian's POV. The bit below is a fresh piece I wrote that is the same chapter but through Maggie Darling's POV. Maybe a tad spoilery, but I prefer to think of it as sneak-peaky:

Maggie followed Garreth through the winding tunnels of Jackdaw’s tomb back towards the main cavern where the Halloween party was still in full swing. The white ears and fluffy tail of her “rabbit” costume bounced with each of her hurried steps. Despite her rather intense moment with Vincent Burke being interrupted, she was glad that Garreth had been able to find her. Apparently Sebastian had downed a dangerous amount of one of the self proclaimed potion geniuses' concoctions and would be descending into mind shredding hallucinations at any moment.

Sure enough, when Garreth led her around the potions table where Sebastian was sitting, she found him staring at his hands as if he had never seen them before and was trying to determine where they had come from. 

"Oh thank goodness," Samantha Dale sighed with relief from where she had been waiting beside him. Her voice seemed to pull his concentration from his hands and his brown eyes met Maggie’s.

Fuck.

He looked utterly terrified. She needed to get them out of here. "How long we got?" Maggie asked Garreth as Sebastian averted his gaze, a shameful red flush creeping up his face.

"Well," Garreth said, "it builds up pretty slow, it may have already started but it wont reach a point of being too debilitating until about twenty minutes in, at that point you'll want to be somewhere safe. The height of the effects shouldn't last too long, and after that it should mellow out... it's just getting over that peak." 

Maggie nodded, she knew what to do. "Do you have more?" 

He showed her the remaining vials and she took one. "Darling," Garreth said uncertainly, "I don't think there is time for an antidote." 

She ignored this and bent down offering Sebastian a hand. "Come on now, no need to lose your head." 

It took Sebastian a long time to finally take her hand. He looked so anxious and uncertain, and Garreth and Samantha gawking certainly didn’t seem to be helping. But Maggie was determined, she would get him out of here and away from all these prying eyes. Without sparing the others another glance, she began leading him through the crowds, passing right by the floo bonfire at the center of the cavern. It would do no good to take him back to the castle. No, Maggie knew just the place. Somewhere quiet, and peaceful, a memory from a truly pleasant day.

Sebastian remained silent for the entire trek up and away from the noise of the party to the swirling pattern carved into the stone wall that marked the cave’s hidden entrance. 

"Intra muros," she said confidently, and the stone swirl began to grind against itself, spiralling open to reveal the vivid blue portal, cool mist cascading from its depths. 

Sebastian stared at it as if trying to decide if it was real or not and Maggie couldn’t help but grin at the look on his face. "Come on," she said before stepping into the void, her fluffy rabbit's tail being the last thing to vanish into the mist before she emerged into the fresh night air on the other side. 

A moment later, Sebastian followed, blinking as he adjusted to the sudden change in atmosphere. She watched as his eyes filled with awe, taking in the enchanting little clearing, lightning bugs hovering all around them and over the pond, their luminous bodies reflected on the water’s still surface. 

"Better?" Maggie asked, smiling as she watched the calm settle over her friend’s features. 

He looked down at her, and though he nodded, she saw something strangely bittersweet in his eyes. It made her feel… something she couldn't quite name. It made her nervous.

"I–I'm sorry you had to—" he stammered, and she couldn’t help but laugh. Was that really what he was so worried about? Ruining her night? 

"Don't be," she said brightly, flashing him a smirk before uncorking her vial and downing its contents without a second thought. Like hell she was going to let him feel like he was all on his own. "Now we can have our own fun." 

Sebastian stared at her, his mouth hanging open in shock. "Are— are you sure that was a good idea?" 

"Nope," she laughed. "That's half the fun! —and besides, now you won't have to go through this alone." 

That bittersweet look filled Sebastian’s eyes again, but Maggie wasn’t going to let all these strange, unidentified emotions make him feel bad. They were going to have an amazing fantastical night together.

"Now," she declared, clapping her hands, "we should probably get out of the forest full of dangerous creatures before this stuff kicks in." And with that, she grabbed his hand and skipped into the darkness, pulling him along with her. 

As she led him through the twisting earthen paths, she could sense the potion slowly starting to take effect. Everything was beginning to take on a bizarre kind of shine, like the old knotted trunks and fluttering foliage were becoming oddly… juicy.

They burst out of the thickness of trees into unfiltered moonlight and she heard Sebastian gasp behind her. Maggie couldn't blame him. The entire landscape was positively shimmering with life. Having taken the potion so much earlier than her, she could only imagine what he must be seeing at this point. 

She felt him stumble as they crossed the old wooden bridge leading out of the forest, and gripped his hand tighter, pulling him through the twisted wooden arch, determined to get him to safety as soon as possible. They were met with the imposing silhouette of the castle, set starkly against the night sky, the shimmering surface of the black lake laid out below. They had made it to the Road to Hogsmeade.

Maggie veered right, towards her chosen destination. She knew he had visited the place plenty before they knew each other. But that had been such a fun day, surely he would only be able to think of pleasant things, and of course, it would look pretty—

Sebastian came to an abrupt halt, stopping them in their tracks. "Darling,” his tremulous voice came from behind her, “Am I...special to you?" 

Maggie turned to look at him, utterly bewildered. Was he special to her? It seemed like such an absurd question. Of course he was—

Sebastian’s hand abruptly wrenched from hers as his hands flew to tangle in his hair, his eyes going wide with horror. 

She was too late.

Sebastian was looking around in every direction, on the verge of tearing his own hair out as he jumped and shuddered at something unseen. “I didn’t want to,” he muttered frantically. “But I did, I did want to— I did hurt her—”

“Sebastian!” Maggie said desperately, rushing forward to tug at his arm, to pull him to the safe space. She called his name again and again, trying to snap him out of it, but it was no good. He wouldn’t budge and she was running out of time. The edges of her own vision were starting to dance like tongues of fire. She needed to find some way to get him to where they needed to be before she followed him into madness.

With an effort that wrenched at her heart, she forced herself to release him and sprint down the path till the place was in sight. She turned, pulling out and spinning her wand in her hand as she cried, “Accio!”

Maggie knew the sensation of being ripped through space was probably not the best thing for Sebastian right now, but it was all she could think to do. He came flailing towards her where she caught him, sort of. He more careened into her, knocking the rabbit ears right off her head as they both stumbled to their knees. He was murmuring incoherent apologies as she pulled him around to face her, but he’d suddenly squeezed his eyes shut, his entire body racking with sobs.

Sebastian!” she tried again hopelessly, gripping his arm tighter, trying to ground him, to bring him back. One of his eyes peered open at her, and she bore her own into it, willing him to stay with her, but then it squeezed shut once more, his head shaking emphatically as if trying to ward off the unseen vision.

Maggie grit her teeth, forcing them both to their feet and dragging him with all the might she could muster without hurting him. Finally, she managed to get them behind the stone wall where she let them both collapse to the soft grass, nestled between two bushes full of lacewing flies. Tears and sweat were streaming down Sebastian's face as she laid him down, resting his head in her lap. 

The words he was muttering to himself were completely unintelligible now, and the pained look contorting his usually easy features made her chest ache unbearably. Whatever he was seeing behind his eyelids was hurting him, horribly. 

"Sebastian!" she practically sobbed. "Open your eyes!" 

He did. 

It was almost funny how quickly his expression shifted. All the distress and fear evaporating in an instant, replaced with a look of wide eyed awe and wonder.

Maggie felt a wave of relief so powerful wash over her she thought she might melt straight into the ground. "There you are," she sighed breathlessly.

"There you are,'' Sebastian replied, a delightfully familiar inflection to his voice. 

Maggie couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. He was himself again. She smiled warmly as she watched him go cross-eyed to look at a lacewing fly that had landed on his nose. She’d known this place would be perfect. The same little patch that he’d shown her the day they met.

Then, without warning, Sebastian started laughing, a full, genuine laughter that seemed to have a life of its own. 

"What's so funny," Maggie giggled, looking down at him in bewilderment. 

"I don't know," he replied breathlessly. 

Maggie felt her smile begin to slip, she was glad that he was ok, but just what kind of horrors had he just lived through? "I'm sorry I didn't get you here sooner," she almost whispered. 

Sebastian’s eyes softened. "I don't think it would have mattered where we were," he said gently, and she hated herself for taking solace in it. They were here, in this beautiful safe place, but she’d meant to get him here for the worst of it, and now she was starting to feel nervous for herself. The lacewing flies around them were starting to blur into something more like stars than insects and Maggie felt an odd sense of teetering on the edge of something. 

"I think I might be getting there soon too," she admitted, her voice quavering shamefully, but Sebastian didn’t miss a beat. Lifting his head from her lap, he shifted over, making a space for her to fill. 

Unable to deny the offer of comfort, Maggie snuggled up to him as his arm moved around to nestle her in the crook of his shoulder. With a wave of her wand, she conjured a big, fluffy, down filled blanket that momentarily blocked out the sky before settling over them. 

It was rather nice. 

The stars in the sky and the stars fluttering all around. That ever present iridescent blue light that had always shimmered through everything seemed to be breathing gently along with the two of them. She let her eyes begin to follow the pathways it carved, beautiful dancing spirals that wove their way across the fabric of Sebastian’s shirt, through the leaves of the bushes surrounding them and the dancing lacewing stars and up into the ether. 

Maggie gasped as her eyes took in the heavens. That beautiful, primal, ancient magic was revealing itself to her more clearly than it ever had, flowing out in every direction, spiralling in and back out onto itself in infinite fractals that seemed to web their way out into… everything. 

She could somehow see it moving through all things all at once. Through castle halls and the sound of laughter. Through ribbons of crimson in water. Through shimmering feathers and lightning raining from the sky. Through aspen leaves fluttering in the wind. Through the dust kicked up by sun stitched boots. Through leathery black wings under moonlight. Through eyes the colour of the sky before a tornado. Through the silhouette of a dark figure hovering above. Through an all too familiar archway on a pond with no ripples…

Was she here again? Wait… Had she been here before? Or was this the first time… again?

The arch ahead of her positively thrummed with that iridescent blue light more strongly than anything else ever had. It seemed to sing to her, beckoning her beyond to what she knew deep in her soul was the single greatest adventure that any living being would ever take. Her heart was racing with fear or excitement? She couldn't tell. It didn’t matter

She took a step forward. But then a voice… or perhaps voices… or perhaps her own thoughts seemed to echo across her very existence.

“Don’t go!”

Don’t go? But why? She was here. Whatever lay beyond that arch and at the end of that infinit flow of light was just ahead of her to discover. What possible reason could there be not to go?

But then suddenly she became aware of warmth and she could smell something… familiar. Like foresty cedar and evergreen soap mingled with… homework? Or perhaps… Hogwarts? That wasn't quite right…  It spoke of old books and sitting by the common room fireplace, complemented with a subtle hint of green apples. 

Whatever it was it made her feel… something unfamiliar to her. Something that made her think that perhaps she could hold off on going just yet. Perhaps that adventure on the other side of the arch could wait. As if that mere thought had flipped a switch, she blinked, and the archway, and the pond with no ripples were gone.

She was staring up at the night sky once more in a comfortable bed made of starlight and she let out a breath she hadn't been aware that she’d been holding. Then, as if drawn by a magnet, her eyes found the source of that warmth, and that familiar scent.

Sebastian.

"There you are," he said, smirking down at her, his warm brown eyes full of fondness. 

Maggie laughed. She couldn’t help it, despite the fact she wasn’t entirely sure what it was she thought was funny. All she knew was that she was so very happy that he was here.

"Before it hit you," she breathed, finally catching her breath. "You asked if you were special to me." She saw Sebastian's face fall slightly, so she hurried to continue. "Do you remember that day you took me into Hogsmeade?" 

"Uh— Of course," he said slowly. 

"Did you know that Professor Weasley let me choose who I wanted to go with?" 

Sebastian blinked in surprise.

"I know it's silly, but—" Maggie spoke softly, recalling the way that strange emotion had bloomed within her when Professor Weasley had offered her that simple, yet profound, new freedom. 

"I remember once,” she began quietly, “when I was young we stayed at this inn next to a school house. I remember watching the kids out the window, they had drawn these boxes into the dirt and were hopping from one to the other… I couldn't make sense of it." a soft chuckle escaped her. "It seemed such a frivolous thing. But... I found myself wondering what it might be like... to introduce myself, to— to see if maybe... they might be willing to teach me how to play..." 

Maggie had to pause for a moment as something uncomfortable seemed to squeeze at her heart, the bittersweet memory suddenly giving way to more recent ones… like the first time coming to this place… and even before that— when the boy now laying beside her had told her about the book he’d been reading. 

From the very beginning, Sebastian had been so willing to teach her… Inviting her to his illicit dueling club, showing her useful spells, even trusting her with his secret hideout. Why did thinking about it all at once make her chest hurt like this? But she swallowed that question down. She musn't cry. 

"You are very special to me Sebastian." She said looking up at him, willing him to understand this thing that she didn’t quite understand herself. "You are the first person that I ever got to choose for myself."

He didn’t speak, instead he just pulled her closer and she allowed herself to melt into that warmth and that scent that was so inexplicably comforting, but then Sebastian suddenly stiffened.

"I–I didn't mean to— to say that out loud—" he stammered, his face practically glowing red and she could feel his heart thundering against her. 

"Say what out loud?" she asked, tilting her head curiously. 

"I– nothing! Nevermind," he said quickly. Then he seemed to relax and let out a nervous chuckle. 

She giggled in response. He was so weird. 

Sebastian’s laughter redoubled and then they were both just laughing, the sound making the lacewing stars dance around them. She wasn’t entirely sure why they were laughing or even if they were laughing at the same thing— but it didn’t matter. It felt good. Finally, the gasps of them trying to catch their breath settled into contented sighs. 

"Do you want to go back to the party?" Sebastian asked half heartedly. 

"No," Maggie sighed. "I don't know about you, but I feel a bit—" her words were cut off by a yawn. Normally, she would never let herself do something so foolish as fall asleep in a place as exposed as this, but it was so nice here, and she felt so comfortable she could feel her eyelids growing heavy. And before she knew it, she was drifting off into an indescribably sound and peaceful slumber. Legacy Disowned

[kkrahe]

Unexpected - Chapter 2

George Weasley x Slytherin!Reader

Series Summary: You never expected to cross paths with George Weasley - your complete opposite. But as rivalry ignites between you two, so does something far more dangerous, an undeniable attraction that neither of you can ignore.

Chapter Summary: On the Hogwarts Express, you find yourself trapped in a compartment with Fred and a sulking George Weasley, reigniting the tension from your summer encounter.

CW: None :D

AN: Thank you to everyone who interacted with my last chapter! You motivate me to continue this fic <3. Still figuring out some formatting issues with tumblr... why is it so difficult TT

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

...

The morning sun filtered weakly through the dusty windows of your family’s estate, casting long shadows across the dark polished floors. Your trunk had been packed and was waiting by the door, but there was no excitement in the air - no flurry of emotion or tearful goodbyes, just the same quiet routine that had marked every parting before.

Your family wasn’t the warm, demonstrative type. Stoic, reserved, and deeply rooted in tradition. They valued dignity and loyalty over grand displays of affection. Your parents, sitting stiffly at the breakfast table, looked at you with the same measured gaze they always had.

“You’ll take care of Atticus while I’m gone?” you asked, breaking the silence as you stared down at your family’s hound. He lay dejected, head on his paws as he sensed you were to leave.

Your father nodded, folding his copy of the Daily Prophet, neatly setting it down. “Of course, the dog's not going to die just because you’re away for a few months.” His voice calm, assuring.

Your mother, as usual, said very little, merely glancing over with a raised brow. Her cold, penetrating gaze was her way of reminding you that even through you were leaving, expectations remained. No words were needed, You would carry the family’s reputation with you to Hogwarts, as you had always done.

The silence stretched awkwardly, and you felt the weight of it pressing down on you. Finally, your father rose to his feet and straightened his robes. “Be mindful of your studies. A colleague from the Ministry will be instructing at Hogwarts this year, I’ve asked her to keep a watchful eye on you.”

“Yes, Father,” you replied. Your parents had always held the Ministry and its employees in high regard, disappointing one of its enforcers meant disappointing them.

With nothing else to be said, your mother gave you a curt nod of farewell, and with that, you were on your way to King’s Cross.

...

The bustle of King’s Cross was a familiar chaos as you pushed your trolley towards Platform 9 3/4. The usual mix of excitement and nervous energy bussed in the air as students and their families hurried to make the train. First-years hugged their final goodbyes to tearful parents and students reunited with friends after a long summer apart. You moved through the crowd like a ghost - just another face in the sea of witches and wizards.

Once through the barrier, the sight of the Hogwarts Express filled you with a sense of bittersweet nostalgia. This would be your last year at the school, this was your seventh and final year, and though Hogwarts had never felt truly like a home, as it did for some students, there was still a sense of sadness and finality in knowing this would be your last time boarding the train.

Dragging your truck behind you, you maneuvered through the narrow corridor of the train, searching for an empty compartment. It seemed that every compartment was full, filled with chattering students catching up on summer news. You finally found one that was almost empty - save for a single first-year sitting timidly in the corner. You offered them a brief nod before claiming the seat furthest from the door, settling in with a book to pass the time.

It wasn’t long before the door slid open again, and to your dismay, your eyes landed on two familiar figures standing in the doorway - Fred and George Weasley. A third figure, Lee Jordan peered behind the tall shoulders of the twins to inspect the compartment.

“Oi looks like this is the last half-empty compartment,” Fred said with a grin, his eyes landing on you with a mischievous wink.

You met his gaze with an unimpressed look, immediately recognizing the twins from the unfortunate encounter in your family’s shop over the summer. Of all the compartments on this train, of course, it had to be them. Just your luck.

George’s expression darkened slightly when he saw you, the memory of your sharp words and cold demeanor still lingering. His twin didn’t seem as fazed, stepping around him and inviting himself into the compartment.

“Well, well, well look who it is. Our lovely friend from Knockturn Alley,” Fred teased as he slid into the seat across from you. The timid first-year shifted awkwardly in their seat, trying to become one with the wall of the train. “And here I thought you never left that creepy old shop.”

George remained standing for a moment, his eyes flickering between you and his brother before he reluctantly sat down beside you, attempting to put as much space in between your bodies as possible on the narrow bench. His lively demeanor was noticeably muted, and you could sense the tension between the two of your the moment he entered the cabin.

Lee squished himself in between the two of you, providing a barrier of relief to whatever animosity seemed to so clearly radiate between you and the redhead.

You return your attention to your book. “If you have to be here, could you at least keep it down? Some of us are trying to get through the train ride in peace.”

Fred let out a mock gasp, feigning offense. “Trying to study already? It’s the first day back, lighten up. We’ve got a whole year of misery ahead of us - though maybe that’s what you’re into.”

You turned the page of your book without responding, determined not to be drawn into whatever game Fred was trying to play. You could feel George’s gaze lingering on you, his silence heavier than the teasing banter from Fred. He hadn’t said a word since entering the compartment.

“Do you ever talk? Or is being a moody Slytherin just part of the charm?” Fred continued, clearly amused by your indifference, and determined to get a rise out of you.

You sighed softly, closing your book with a snap and meeting Fred’s eyes with a level stare. “What do you want Weasley?”

“Ah, so you can speak!” Fred grinned widely.

“We’ve never seen you at Hogwarts before,” George said, his voice quieter than usual, but still carrying that hint of challenge that was so present in his brother. “It’s our seventh year, you’d think we’d have run into each other at some point.”

You shrugged, “I’ve been in both of your classes before, unlike you, not everyone makes a habit of being the loudest in the room.”

Fred’s eyebrows shot up in amusement. “So you’re the brooding quiet type? We do love a mystery, huh Georgie?” He quipped, winking at his twin.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see George send his brother a look of warning. Fred only smirked back, clearly enjoying himself. You began to regret ever sitting in this compartment. Even a seat next to Malfoy and his poor-mouthed git friends would be more peaceful than this.

“I’ve heard enough about the two of you to last a lifetime,” you said, your tone cold. “You have big personalities, hard to miss even if I try.”

Fred chuckled. “We do tend to make an impression. And what’s your story, then? Hiding out in the shadows all these years?”

You could feel George’s gaze fixed on you, meeting his eyes an unreadable tension filled the room. Lee shrunk back in his seat, feeling just as awkward and confused.

Leaning back, “I just mind my own business, can’t say I’m very interested in disturbing the school with pranks.”

Fred, sensing the strange tension between you and his twin, perked up in his seat, drawing your stare back, away from his brother. “Well whatever your business is, it must be dreadfully boring if it doesn’t involve any fun. You know we could fix that for you.”

You rolled your eyes, “I think I’ll pass you up on the offer, thanks though.” Your voice deadpan as you returned your attention to your abandoned book.

The train rattled on, and though you tried to lose yourself in your book once more, you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that the Weasley twins' presence was going to make this final year at Hogwarts far more complicated than you’d expected.

[firenati0n]

2024 writing round up!

thank you for the tags @kiwiana-writes @cha-melodius @alasse9 :) <3

i posted 19 fics this year (whoa) ranging from 932 words to 54,284 words. wild! all were for RWRB! yay firstprince! :)

JANUARY

too scared to post shit after writing worm fic in december

FEBRUARY

An Amateur's Guide to Piping That Cream and Beating That Meat (T, 5k) henry needs to make something for alex's friendsgiving and comes across a thirst trapping headless food tiktoker. i wonder who it could be. deranged tiktok comments, friends to lovers

people ruin people, i don't wanna ruin you (M, WIP, 6.8k, 4/9 chapters) - this was posted anonymously until august) alex is a washed up singer, henry is his new pet project. and maybe something more. musician firstprince, v loose a star is born x greek mythology au, icarus!alex, collaborators to lovers

MARCH

each time we touch / i wanna take too much (M, 1.3k) alex puts his fingers in henry's mouth. mhm yep that's it.

keep me up all night / i wanna scratch your surface  (M, 1.4k) alex is so in love he could die. puts his mouth on other places. prose-y loverboy alex.

cause you're classic, and i'm reckless (T, 5.4k) alex and henry are costars, henry offers to help alex with intimacy research. actor au, kissing for practice leads to kissing for real, inspired by ryan gosling and rachel mcadams at the 2005 mtv movie awards, costars to lovers

who truly stuck the knife in first (M, 3.7k) alex and henry are spy partners. a mission goes sideways and they fight and fuck about it. sexually charged wrestling, partners to lovers

APRIL

and all i can taste is this moment, and all i can breathe is your life (T, 9999 words) angel!henry watches over lawyer!alex invisibly until one day alex sees him. now what? loose city of angels au, pining yearning longing galore, wee bit of angst with a happy ending, introspection

MAY

who would've thought that a guy like henry would double as a superstar?  (T, 6.4k) hannah montana au, crack treated seriously, henry is hannah montana and alex works at a ranch. a hot damn mess.

JUNE

busy writing and posting proposal au! :)

JULY

the full spectrum of human emotion (M, 54k) editor!henry gets assistant!alex to marry him to avoid deportation. but wait! alex hates henry! oops. the proposal (2009) au, marriage of convenience, fake dating, romantic comedy, banter and big feelings

AUGUST

you're the closest to heaven that i'll ever be (T, 7.7k) angel!henry sequel, henry learning what it means to be human, very tender and full of musings on humanity and love and the little things in life

the leaves of a silver maple (assorted, 13k) collection of short standalone prompt fics for my fic fest (some of my favorite fics ever exist in this collection and they're so buried jfalksjlf)

prompt one - wicked E | 2.6k | au, sims family, fluff laced with a little crack. as a treat. henry finds something rather...wicked on alex's laptop. prompt two - sweaters T | 1k | canon-verse, fluffy, sweet, sharing clothes alex steals henry's sweater, and henry gets back at him. prompt three -  magic T | 5.2k | kiki's delivery service (studio ghibli, 1989) au, magic au, high school au, warlock!henry, baker!alex, sweet, tender, emotional, found family a tender little exploration of love, purpose, healing, and a warlock!henry finding baker!alex.  prompt four -  comfort T | 2.6k | roommate au, sickfic, hurt/comfort, taking care of each other, mutual pining, fluff, domesticity, pride & prejudice (2005) refs, first kiss, getting together three times henry took care of alex and one time alex took care of henry. prompt five - wicked once more M | 500 words | au, sims family, cracky fluff, accidental sims mpreg alex is being a menace once again in The Sims. prompt six - apron M | 200 words | au, silly, apron shenanigans henry is wearing an apron. and nothing else.  prompt seven - goodbye T | 200 words | the good place au, bittersweet alex and henry say goodbye. prompt eight - father T | 300 words | post-canon, a tinge of grief, hope henry reflects on grief.

SEPTEMBER

i like the way you blush / i like the way you bite (M, 932) henry puts his fingers in alex's mouth

OCTOBER

flip the switch and let the cauldron bubble (T, 2.7k) kiki's delivery service au sequel, warlock!henry and baker!alex and the many potions that heal them

about to bust-elo (M, 2k) alex tries Café Bustelo Instant Espresso and has a hell of a day. inspired by my fuckass coffee habits.

feeling your heart beating, wondering what you're dreaming (M, 5.7k) five times childhood best friends alex and henry share a bed platonically, and the one time (of many) they do as something more, childhood friends to lovers, one bed, pining, fluffy and tender

from all the pain our brain has made, the game is not played alone (G, 1.4k) alex has a long day and a terrible headache, and henry comforts him

NOVEMBER

brain break

DECEMBER

london's so nice, back in your seamless rhymes (T, 7.4k) alex and henry fall in love—five days a week, four bus routes, three pseudo-dates, two holiday markets, and one red scarf of fate later. strangers to friends to lovers, meet-cute, london buses, fluffy and fun

if the city never sleeps, then that makes three (T, 1.4k) london bus meet-cute universe part 2. alex and henry have a movie night and learn some things about each other and the people they thirst over

i looked into your eyes, got such a great surprise (M, 1.6k) london bus meet-cute universe part 3. alex and henry go on a walk and do some reflecting on love and happiness. fluffy and funny and sweet.

-

and that's a wrap! what a year! so grateful for everyone who read and commented and subscribed and engaged...it means so much to me. i have really leaned on this community while navigating rough waters, and deeply love all the friends and connections i have made. sending everyone a lot of love!

xoxo roop

open tag and a few under the cut :)

@ninzied @myheartalivewrites @rmd-writes @tintagel-or-cockleshells @clottedcreamfudge

@anchoredarchangel @dumbpeachjuice @smc-27 @cricketnationrise @everwitch-magiks

@orchidscript @cheesecurdsgravyandfries @run-for-chamo-miles @onward--upward @eusuntgratie

@bigassbowlingballhead @leaves-of-laurelin @porcelainmortal @getmehighonmagic @blueeyedgrlwrites

@suseagull5914 @judasofsuburbia @seths-rogens @caterpills @violetbaudelaire-quagmire

@onthewaytosomewhere @indestructibleheart @sophie1973 @fairflowered @incalamity

@smugvillanelle @anincompletelist @wordsofhoneydew @itsmaybitheway @whimsymanaged

@miss-minnelli @zwiazdziarka @sherryvalli @msmarvelouswinchester @thesleepyskipper

@thedramasummer @priincebutt @14carrotghoul @kj-bee @welcometololaland

@miharaikko @hgejfmw-hgejhsf

[sturnsblogs]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆More than best-friends‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Chapter 9: Slipping Through the Cracks

Chris didn’t expect you to forgive him right away. Honestly, he wasn’t sure you would at all. But after that conversation in the parking lot, something shifted.

It wasn’t like before. You didn’t let him back in completely. There were walls between you now, ones he had put up himself when he made that choice a month ago. But even so, he could feel the smallest crack in them—just enough to let him through.

And he took every chance he got.

It started slow. A text here and there, a moment in passing where you’d acknowledge him instead of looking right through him. Then one night, he showed up at your window.

You almost didn’t let him in.

“Chris,” you whispered, half in disbelief, half in exasperation. “What are you doing here?”

He looked exhausted. His hair was a mess, his eyes rimmed red like he hadn’t slept in days. He swallowed hard, his voice rough when he spoke.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

You should’ve sent him away. You should’ve reminded him of the choice he made. But instead, you sighed and stepped aside.

That was the first time.

After that, it became a pattern.

Every time he and Avery fought—whether it was a blowout argument or just tense silence—he found himself here. Climbing through your window, running a hand through his hair as he let out a breath like he had been holding it all day. And you? You let him.

Maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe you should’ve told him that if he wanted you in his life, he had to want it all the time, not just when things got hard with Avery. But the truth was, you missed him too.

And when he was with you, it was different.

He didn’t have to pretend.

You would sit on your bed, leaning against the headboard while he sat at the foot, knees pulled up to his chest. He would tell you everything—how exhausting it was trying to keep Avery happy, how he felt like he was always walking on eggshells, how he missed how easy everything used to be.

And you would listen.

Sometimes, he would cry. Not always, but on the worst nights, when Avery’s words cut too deep, when he felt like he was losing himself in a relationship he wasn’t sure he even wanted anymore—he would break.

And you would be there, sitting beside him, resting your chin on your knees as he whispered, “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Other nights, it wasn’t sad.

Some nights, he’d come over just because. Just to sit with you, to talk like you used to.

You’d lie on your bed, staring at the ceiling, and talk about everything and nothing all at once. The stars, the future, dumb memories that still made you laugh. You’d tease him about something stupid he did years ago, and for the first time all day, he’d actually laugh—like, full-body, can’t-breathe laughter that made his shoulders shake.

And God, did you miss that laugh.

Tonight was one of the quieter nights. No tears, no frustration—just the two of you, sitting on your bed in the soft glow of your bedside lamp.

Chris was lying on his back, one arm slung over his face, while you sat beside him, picking at a loose thread on your blanket.

“You remember that time we tried to make a fort out of your old sheets, and the whole thing collapsed on us?” you asked suddenly.

Chris let out a tired chuckle. “Oh my God. Yeah. You got so mad at me because I tripped over your chair and knocked the whole thing down.”

“You did! I spent an hour setting it up, and you ruined it in, like, five seconds.”

Chris grinned, moving his arm to look at you. “It was a death trap anyway. We would’ve suffocated under all those blankets.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Still. It was supposed to be cool.”

“It was cool,” he said softly, a nostalgic look in his eyes. “We used to do stupid stuff like that all the time.”

You nodded, the warmth of the memory quickly turning bittersweet. “Yeah. We did.”

Silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t awkward. Just… heavy.

Chris exhaled through his nose, shifting slightly. “I miss it. I miss you.”

You swallowed, your fingers tightening around the fabric of your blanket. “Chris…”

“I know,” he said quickly, turning his head to look at the ceiling again. “I know I don’t deserve to say that. I know I don’t deserve for you to let me be here. But I just—I don’t know how to do this without you.”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say.

A part of you wanted to tell him that it wasn’t your problem anymore. That he made his choice, and you had to live with it.

But the bigger part of you—the part that still cared, still ached for what you lost—knew that you weren’t strong enough to push him away.

So instead, you sighed and nudged his leg with your foot.

“You’re annoying.”

Chris let out a short laugh. “I know.”

You turned your head to look at him, and for a second, it felt like nothing had changed.

Like the past month hadn’t happened. Like you weren’t treading on fragile, dangerous ground just by having him here.

Like he was still your best friend.

Your eyes locked, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

There was something unreadable in Chris’s expression—something conflicted and raw, something almost desperate. His breathing was shallow, his lips slightly parted like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

And then, before you could even process what was happening, he kissed you.

It wasn’t slow, wasn’t gentle—it was sharp-edged and thoughtless, more like a reaction than a decision. His hand found your face, fingers curling against your cheek as he pressed into you like he was trying to prove something. Like he was trying to make you understand something even he didn’t fully know.

And you let him.

For a few seconds, you let yourself sink into it. His lips were warm, desperate against yours, his hand tightening slightly like he was afraid you’d pull away.

But then—Avery.

Her name shot through your mind like a warning bell, and suddenly, it was like you had been doused in cold water.

You pulled back abruptly, breath shaky, eyes wide.

Chris blinked at you, his own breathing uneven. “Y/N—”

“What are you doing?” your voice came out quiet, but there was a sharp edge to it.

Chris swallowed hard. His gaze darted between your eyes and your lips, like he was trying to make sense of what just happened. “I— I don’t know.”

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “That’s not good enough.”

Chris ran a hand through his hair, looking away. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“No kidding,” you muttered.

Silence settled between you again, but this time, it wasn’t comfortable. It was thick, suffocating, filled with everything you wanted to say but didn’t know how.

Chris exhaled sharply, rubbing his hands over his face. “I—”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, voice tired. “Just… don’t.”

He didn’t argue. Didn’t try to justify it.

Because what could he say?

Instead, he just sat there, staring at his hands, while the weight of what just happened settled over both of you.

And for the first time since he came back into your life, you weren’t sure if you wanted him here anymore.

A/N- How do we feel about this. (this chapter is my favorite so far)

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @chrislilcumslvt @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @mylittled0ve @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy

CHAPTER EIGHT

TAGLIST FOR MASTERLIST

[shapard]

Feather of Fate🕊️

Lucifer x seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

I wrote this late at night so not proof read yet.

It's going down~

little Angst, Violence, major death

True Story

Chapter 9 > Chapter 10 < Epilogue

Shock and being scared was an understatement of feelings that Lucifer, Charlie and the others are facing right now. The others follow Lucifer like a lost puppy, as they walked through the halls of the horror Playhouse. 

Lucifer remembered every angle of this place. This is where he began creating things for heaven and then for Lilith. 

Or rather it was. 

His eyes were set on the horrible victims of Michael. The Mangled Angels that looked like the worst demon. 

Worser than any of the demon he saw in hell. Probably even worser than Rue.

At some point they were standing in front of an empty cell that was stained with golden blood and your aura.

Beside the cell there was none other than Leonardo looking right at the group. 

He was already expecting them.

“Long time no see, Lucifer.”

….

You walked with your bare foot on the golden floor, beside you stood Michael, Azrael, and Gabriel. 

They were guarding you up the stairs. Watching you like hawks do with their prey with those glowing dangerous eyes.

You’re going to meet him, the famous God almost everyone is worshipping.

The one you served such a long time.

The one who let you down so easily. 

The God that you were sure despites you with his very being.

Maybe it was wrong to think that way. But you couldn't shake off the feeling that something will happen.

Your hands were still chained up, but your feet were walking almost on Autopilot.

You wanted to stay in that cell and rot in there in peace, rather than facing someone who let you down easily. 

“Y/n?” Your eyes widen at that voice, a warm feeling spread around your chest, and you felt like you wanted to cry. Nothing is more calming than a mother’s voice to its child.

And yet you didn’t look up nor give her nay response that you’ve heard her. After all you didn’t forgive her how she just let you fall and that it was her idea in the first place. 

Michael told you everything.

Even though he can’t be trusted you couldn’t help but believe him. The bittersweet taste that allures you into his darkness was tempting.

You were tempted to fall into his madness. But the memories you and Lucifer shared were the only thing that destroyed you and kept you sane.

Gabriel glared at Sera, “why is she here? She isn’t supposed to be here.” He ushered towards Azrael who just shrugged him off. 

Your hand clenched hard. You don’t want to see her. Not when she looks at you with these pitiful eyes, even though it is her fault all alone. 

“What have you done to my daughter?” Sera looked in horror at the bruises on your wrist and body. The bruises around your wrist were almost deep purple, black almost.

The guilt in Sera was indescribable. It was eating her alive in these last few Months.

It was all her fault; it was a simple punishment that ended in torture. 

“Not much.” Michael answered giving Sera a white rose. “Father wants to see you too.”

You wanted to disappear. The heavy load on your shoulder was too much to handle. 

The hurt of the betrayal from Lucifer was too recent to forget and that your mother showed up is your worst luck.

The pain in your chest spread when you looked finally at you Mother. Feathers all scattered, it seemed she haven’t preened them in a while. 

You miss your wings. 

The walk ended in a huge sky land and pastel clouds were surrounding the area, the light was all centered in one direction where you could see a silhouette. 

A soft tune played. A tune Lucifer used to hum to you when you dozed off on his lap. 

The ghost feelings of his clawed fingers massaging your scalp, not hurting you in the process.

Unwilling tears fell from your eye socket. As much as you wanted to hide your weakened state, you couldn't.

After all that has happened you miss him. 

You missed the Hotel, you missed hell. You missed the time with your friends Husk and Angel.

The soft tune that hummed in the area comforted you in a weird way and a soft way.

A voice called you into the light. 

Don’t go into the light. 

Your mind was screaming at you to run. 

Danger. 

Michael gestures for you to step forward. You wanted to move, but your feet don’t move. The anxiety was filling your lungs making it even harder to breath and stopped every body movement. 

You forced your feet with all your strength just to stand in the light that was a few meters away from you.

“My, My. After all those months and years, I finally can speak to you in person.” You’ve never heard his voice before, but you just know its his. 

His Voice echoed through the wind and in your body through Skull and bones.

The sound of Gods heels meeting the quartz ground was in an even rhythm. As the steps grew closer and closer you found yourself in a panic like state.

What will he do with you? Is he going to kill you or make you his puppet?

A warm but somehow cold finger pushed your chin up and you saw a tall figure with four eyes surrounding its silhouette. 

He has almost the same hat as Lucifer and the same shit eating grin. 

“Poor Child.”

Your eyes twitched; you don’t need any pity from anyone. Not from Leonardo. Not even from God himself.

“I don’t need any of your sympathy.” He only chuckled at your comeback, It interested him indeed.

Even after such a heartbreak you still fought back. “I was almost worried that my son may corrupted you. Michael is a lot to deal with, I must admit.” God lets go of your chin and you almost fell on your knees. 

The sudden weakness surprised you. God snapped with his fingers and the chains broken loose. 

“But I don’t appreciate this type of violence towards my daughter in law. Lucifer wouldn’t be happy to see you in this state darling. So, let’s get you patched up, hm?” This is off. 

Why is he so nice? 

Doesn’t he hate Lucifer? 

Doesn’t he hate you?

God laughed at your cute little misunderstanding. “Oh, my dear I hate nobody. Not even towards Lucifer. I’m just disappointed that this all came so far. You got treated the wrong way because of my recklessly. That’s not how I planned you two to meet.” He sighs, “So answer me one question.” He turned towards you and lifted you up.

The bruises on your body slowly disappeared into your skin. And the pain faded with it.

“What do you desire?”

…

“How do you know we were coming Leonardo?” Lucifer looked with his scarlet eyes into Leonardo’s golden ones. 

“Who wouldn’t save their soulmate. I would, even if it means that I’ll get cast away from heaven. I knew you’d come” Leonardo took few steps forward, but Lucifer stayed on his grounds.

“Tell me Lucifer, what would you do for her?” Lucifer growled. 

He’d do anything for you. 

He wants your back; he needs your back. 

Leonardo lunged at Lucifer with his spear landing a cut above his eyebrow. 

“Fuck.” Lucifer cursed as he tried to find a place for the others to hide. 

There's no escape. 

“Charlie! Find Y/n while I fight him off!”

…

You wanted so much and as soon as these words left none other than God, you found yourself empty headed. “What I desire?” God hummed and looked down at his cane. “Is it money? Or is it something that hides deep inside you dear. I’ll give it to you but choose wise.” Well, that isn’t helping.  

God laughed at your thoughts, sometimes you forget that he could read your thoughts easily. “Let me help you dear.” God stepped forward and folded his hands on your eyes. 

A low glow made you almost slum into a deep sleep. 

But before you could fall into this feeling a loud crash followed and God sighed in frustration. Having children is a bliss but also a stick in the ass. 

Lucifer and Leonardo fought in the air and crashed together in front of Michael who seemed to be amused by the fight. 

“Y/n!” Charlie shouted your name and you turned towards her. “Charlie?!” A happy smile spread on your lips. A little shine of hope burst your heart. “Charlie!”

You ran towards her and threw your arms around her, and Charlie happily hugged you back. “I’m so glad you’re okay!” She said as she squeezed you tightly. “We all were so worried about you!” Angel hugged you from behind, “yeah, the short king almost lost his mind!” you giggled at Angels nickname for Lucifer. 

You were so drowned in your own misery that you’ve forgotten how much you love the others. You always were head stuck on Lucifer that you forgot your drink buddies. 

You break the hug and swipe the tears that escaped your attempt to hid them. 

You watched as Lucifer fought his three brothers. Azrael swung his scythe around his waist to get a better hit on him. The gold blood splattered on the quartz floor, and you hissed at the injured Lucifer who had a huge gash on his chest. 

“I wish I had daughters than sons…” God sighed as he looked at the mess they caused. Gods smile never left his face though.

Leonardo kicked Azrael away with the end of his spear making him land with full force on the quartz floor, ouch. Azrael laid unmoving there and groaned at the back pain. “I’m out.” He said before collapsing on the floor. 

“Why did Leonardo defend dad?” Charlie asked pointing towards Leonardo who stood before Lucifer. “He was always on his side. He just wanted to check if he’s willing to die for Y/n.” God answered and held Azrael under his arm. 

“Now let me take care of this mess.” God let Azrael go and he fell on his stomach. “Really?!” Azrael huffed in anger. 

God levitates down to his sons and they immediate stopped. “As much as I like the reunion, you’re destroying the peace me and Lucifers mate had.” This hurt Michael deep. No not again.

“Really father? You’re defending Lucifer and his soulmate?” Michael gritted his teeth as anger build up in him. After all he has done for his father Lucifer always gets preferred. 

But not with him. 

Michael took the opportunity and flew towards you. You stepped in front of your friends protectively, no one will hurt them. 

Just by your dead body. 

His sword went smoothly through your ribcage right between your heart. Charlie screamed and shouted your name as the sword was in her view. 

The sword went right through you. 

Quite a disturbing beautiful sight. A fallen Seraphim protecting sinners as she gets killed by an Arch Angel.

Lucifer looked in horror and his heart felt like tearing apart. 

He wanted to hold you close but his wings felt like bricks on his back. Every time he tried to fly up to you, he fell lower and lower. And when Michael’s laugh hollowed in Lucifers ears he started to feel immense Anger and rage. 

More than he did last time he fought Michael. 

A monstress growl escaped his sharpened teeth as the fire between his horns grew bigger and more violent. Lucifer felt no empathy as he smashed Michael’s skull to pieces. 

It was the least he could do for you. You were hurt, in despair and he couldn’t help you through it. 

And now Michael took again what was most precious to him. 

You. 

You slumped on to the ground as Michael hold on you stopped and Husk was quick to hold you in his arms.

“Don’t die on me kiddo.” Husk voice broke, the sadness couldn’t hide the truth. 

You’ll die. And nothing can change it. 

Husk pressed plunged the sword out of your chest and replaced it with his hands. 

His power as an overlord was gone, but Lucifer could heal the damage, right? 

The hard breathing broke his heart as he watches you taking his hands softly. “Husky. Promise me-“ you coughed, and blood splattered onto his fur, but Husk didn’t cared. 

“Stop talking, you’ll only use your left power.” Husk pressed deeper onto the wound, but the blood still gushed out at the tiniest hole. You shook your head softly, you’ll die. 

This is your dead end. 

A tear escaped with a few whines, “Promise me to take care of them. Please husk.” Tears met your forehead as you said those words to him. 

Husk cries. 

He actually cries. 

“Don’t say that. You’ll live!” You squeezed his hand as he screamed, one last time and muttered a soft I love you to them all besides Lucifer. 

He wasn’t here with you as your life slowly crept away from your body. 

The dull vessel of your soul just dropped into Husks arms and Husk hugged you close. 

Charlie was a mess. Her crying filled the battlefield and Angel dust was having a complete meltdown. 

Lucifer stopped his Tantrum as he heard Charlies desperate and hurt cries. His body reacted on its own fast and flew towards her and you. 

He fell couple times but tried neither less to get to you two.

Lucifer landed painful on the harsh surface, but he didn’t care. 

He crawled up to your corpse and took it away from Husk as Lucifer hugged you close to him. 

Your usually warm body was now cold, and those live filled eyes were dull and soulless like the void that crept back to him. Before his mind could even collect words, he apologized to you in a mantra. 

He was sorry. 

He wasn’t there when Michael did that to you and Lucifer wasn’t there when you shifted to the dead.

Forgive him.

“Forgive me Apple Pie.”

…

The soft tune played into your mind, painting a picture in it. Flashbacks of your life appeared till you stand in that familiar space with the table and mist. Across the table sat Lucifer but in a light blue and golden appearance.

“Lucifer?” You asked out, your hand twitched. You wanted to feel the golden hair one last time. 

But he was with Lilith, not with you. The bitter truth you avoided, and it hurts you much deeper every time you remembered it. 

Please stop. 

”Y/n?” The way he called out your name and the soften voice that allures you back into the warmth. 

Hot tears burned their way down to the cold stone table. 

What is he doing here? You’re dead right? 

Yes, you miss him very dearly but the betrayal was to recent to just forget it. 

“Just wait for me.” 

You looked at Lucifer, cold. A sting on Lucifers heart but it wasn’t really him. It’s an Image from you and God. And your desire to see him again. 

To hear him at least out, maybe it was a misunderstanding. Maybe Azrael showed you just mere lies. 

“Even though I am not the Lucifer you desire,” he took your hand softly into his pearly white one, “I can tell that your Lucifer loves you dearly and wouldn’t do that to you.” He smiled up to you and stroked the hot tears from your face. 

“But I am dead Luci, and you- He wasn’t even there with me.” And the fake Lucifer gave your hand a quick squeeze. 

“I’m sure he wanted to. Still a fucking idiot but he was fighting Michael off of you, right? That’s a start.” He chuckled and you huffed. 

The doubts and insecurities were another trap you chose to fall in. Maybe he wanted you dead so he can have Lilith.

“But Lilith is-“ He interrupted you with a soft squeeze on your hand and cheek, “Don’t continue that. Yes, he loved Lilith. But he loves you more. Even though I am just a copy of Lucifer from yours and Gods memories. I love you more than anything. Listen to him not to his bitter twin. Hear it from him and if you’re correct you can be mad all you want.” He let you go and gave you a last smile. 

What does he mean? 

You’re dead, no refund. 

Gone.

“Our time Is up. Choose wise apple pie.” The world around you fade away, “What is your true desire?” you stretched your hands out for Lucifer.

you want to go back to him.

“I want to go back to him. Please.”

The soft tune hummed in your head as light surrounded you. As the light slowly creeped away you felt tears on your neck. 

Your eyes flutter open, and you saw Lucifer face buried into your neck. He hugged you tightly, the thought of dying again because of Lucifer hard grip wasn’t one you were burning for. 

“Lucifer?” You called out his name and he quickly retreated from his favorite place, and he watched perplexed at you. 

“Y/n?” He called out, “Is that really you?” He sounds so broken. You nodded and answered with a short yes. Lucifer held your hand in his left hand and pressed you onto his lips so soft and hard. 

His lips danced around your as sparks flew across your body making you feel butterflies all over your stomach. He kissed like it was his last meal. After seconds of intimate making out, he broke the kiss. 

“Don’t leave me again.”

A/n: Feather of Fate is now Over! (There is an epilogue coming!") Hope you enjoyed the short story.

There will be more! But first I want to concentrate on Scenarios and One Shot, till I feel ready to post another story with our Short King. ❤️

Love y'all Pookies❤️

Special Thank you to @ayanazoldyck, @marydragneell and @avadakadabra93 ❤️

💫

Sadly couldn't Tag you.

And of course thank you all Pookies❤️❤️❤️✨

@ayanazoldyck @marydragneell @lunaryasha @cherry-cola-100 @lxkeee @latersgaters-steven @fandom-crashlanding @cupidsgift @steadyconnoisseurnacho @crimsonflameproxy @stormz369 @wooleypeaches @fukingsad @starlitvenus @avadakadabra93 @itzabbeym @asmodeussimpnumber1 @sirenetheblogger @k1y0yo @i-have-no-life-charlie @angelicwillows @0puddleofgender0 @fallenh34art @v3r41ynn @froggybich @pank0w @roboticsuccubus83 @littlebear423 @anonymously-ominous @concentratedconcrete

And thank you to my silent readers

Why do I write like this my last day here💀✋🏽

[lifeafterartsch00l]

🍥Sns fic recs🍅

*If you know these authors on Tumblr, please tag them! ❤️😊*

Oxigen's overrated by TheMidnightSong

I love love love “Sasuke returns to Konoha” fics. Ive probably read like 200 of them and i would love to read 200 more. I 🍽️ it up!

Shout out to the latest chapter in this sweet & spicy fic! So well paced. They are so into each other. Hot enough to fry an egg on. Nominating for a smut award 👑 (Im making it a thing).

*Still thinking about chapter*

…what were we talking about again?

“Chapters: 9/?

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto

Characters: Uzumaki Naruto, Tsunade (Naruto), Gaara (Naruto), Dai-nana-han | Team 7 Ensemble (Naruto), Uchiha Sasuke, Kyuubi | Nine-tails | Kurama, Haruno Sakura, Ninjas of Konohagakure, Konoha 11 Ensemble (Naruto)

Additional Tags: Post-War, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Fix-It, Ending Fix, Uchiha Sasuke-centric, POV Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Sasuke Returns to Konoha, Uzumaki Naruto is in Love with Uchiha Sasuke, Boys In Love, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Idiots in Love, Falling In Love, sasuke actually wants to become better, One-Sided Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura Needs a Hug, Eventual Smut, Post-Chapter 699 (Naruto), Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Blank Period (Naruto), Drugs Made Them Do It, Drug Use, Drunk Sex, Getting Together, After Party, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, sasuke never went to jail, Uzumaki Naruto is Bad at Feelings, naruto is actually super in love, But he doesn't know how to handle it

Summary: After the war, Kakashi, the now Sixth Hokage, sees necessary for Sasuke to continue his recovery with Naruto, and puts him in charge of this task. At first, Sasuke has no problem with the idea, but he begins to notice strange behaviors in his friend, things that make him doubt about the relationship”

Detox (20 years together series) by wedonotsow

Dark, kinky modern au. A wonderful writer, authentic-feeling experiences ❤️ Bittersweet with happy ending. 🖤🌶️ also Naruto owns a restaurant in this one and I like to imagine him like Carmie from the Bear 😂 yes chef 😉

“Chapters: 10/10

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto, Naruto - Relationship

Characters: Uchiha Sasuke, Uzumaki Naruto, Hatake Kakashi, Karin (Naruto)

Additional Tags: Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort, Rehabilitation, True Love, Rough Sex, Pain, Drug Addiction, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Recovery, Love, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Face Slapping, references to bloodplay, Anal Sex, Healthy Relationships, Angst with a Happy Ending, Shibari, Domestic Fluff

Series: Part 2 of 20 years together AU

Summary: Naruto thought that he'd experienced it all. After 20 years of enmeshed history and 10 years in a committed relationship, they had endured death, betrayal, violence, and even jail; but always inexplicably tied in solid foundation of unconditional love.

Nothing could break them. Naruto had been sure of it. That is: until Sasuke was forced into rehab for a drug addition he had been hiding. To overcome these latest demons they must confront the deepest, darkest parts of themselves. Even the stuff that really, really hurts.

Good thing they are so used to enduring pain”

Let the world burn by newtaste

I like to think this fic is like Bridgerton with teeth. Very sexy and smart with class struggle & character development. The romance is so well done 🔥💙

“Rating: Mature

Relationships: Uchiha Sasuke/Uzumaki Naruto, Nara Shikamaru/Temari

Characters: Uchiha Sasuke, Uzumaki Naruto, Nara Shikamaru, Uchiha Itachi, Haruno Sakura, Hyuuga Hinata, Hyuuga Neji, Sai (Naruto), Gaara (Naruto), Yamanaka Ino, Temari (Naruto), Hatake Kakashi, Deidara (Naruto), Sarutobi Konohamaru

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Historical, Slow Burn, Yaoi, Enemies to Lovers, Inspired by Bridgerton (TV), Uchiha Sasuke-centric, Period-Typical Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: Uchiha Sasuke is one of the most eligible bachelors in Konoha, looking for a successful marriage. He is an elitist, a conservative duke who hates people who do not abide by the rules of society.

Uzumaki Naruto is a rebel, a mere commoner, who plans to revolutionize the system that favours only the rich.

When they accidentally meet at the spring ball, none of them suspects their beliefs would be shaken to their core.

The story takes place sometime in the middle of the nineteenth century, in a European setting, during the industrial revolution. Slow burn”

[apollogeticx]

✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ LABOUR ♡·˚

— [♡] ; souls tied by fate will inevitably cross paths again. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: endgame gojo satoru, afab!reader, slow burn, pregnancy, regret, hurt/comfort, angst, co-parenting, vulnerable gojo satoru, past suguru geto x reader, past rejection, longing, bittersweet, I'm dramatic so I write dramatic shit, chapter ten of ten

wc. 5.2K

prologue | part 1 | part 2 | part 3| part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9

The tension had been simmering between you and Gojo for days. Ever since the truth had spilled out—the confessions of regret, the moments you had both wished for but never acted on—the air between you had grown heavier, charged with something unspoken. It wasn’t just the past that hung between you anymore. It was something more. Something that had been building for weeks, maybe even months.

At first, it had been easy to ignore. You had thrown yourselves into the routine of taking care of the kids, focusing on their needs and on rebuilding the fragile peace that had settled over your life. But every time Gojo was near—every time his hand brushed yours, or his gaze lingered just a little too long—the tension flared, a silent acknowledgment that something was changing.

You hadn’t spoken about it. Not directly. But you both knew it was there.

And now, after days of walking that fine line, the weight of it was becoming impossible to bear.

It was late at night, the kind of stillness that comes when the world is asleep. The twins were soundly tucked away in their crib, and your daughter was fast asleep in her own room, the house wrapped in a blanket of silence. You had been sharing a quiet evening with Gojo, as you often did these days, sitting together in the dim light of the living room. A bottle of wine sat between you, half-empty, the two of you having indulged in a few glasses to unwind after a long day.

It had been peaceful at first—just the two of you, the soft clink of glasses breaking the silence as you exchanged small, easy conversation. But as the evening wore on, the atmosphere began to shift. The space between you felt smaller, more intimate, and every glance, every touch of fingers as you passed the bottle, carried with it a weight that neither of you could ignore.

You weren’t sure when it happened—when the conversation fell away and was replaced by something else. But as you sat there, your body warm from the wine, your gaze met Gojo’s, and the look in his eyes was unmistakable.

There was a tension there, something that had been simmering for far too long. And this time, you didn’t want to ignore it.

Gojo’s hand rested on the table, his fingers brushing lightly against the edge of his wine glass, but his eyes were fixed on you. His usual playful expression was gone, replaced by something deeper, something far more intense. You could feel it in the way his gaze lingered on your face, the way his body leaned just a little closer to yours, as if drawn to you by some invisible force.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched between you, heavy and charged, and you could hear the soft, unsteady rhythm of your own breathing.

The door had been opened. The words you had exchanged days ago had broken down the last of the barriers between you, and now, the tension was impossible to ignore. It was only a matter of time before it reached a boiling point, before the unspoken desire that had been simmering between you for weeks finally spilled over.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry as you looked away, trying to gather your thoughts. But the movement only brought you closer to Gojo, the space between you shrinking until you could feel the heat radiating off him.

It was inevitable. You both knew it.

“Satoru…” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

He didn’t respond, not with words. Instead, his hand reached out, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a shiver up your spine. It was such a simple touch, but it carried with it the weight of everything you hadn’t said, everything you had been holding back.

You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, and the look in his eyes stole your breath away. There was no mistaking it now—this was more than just the remnants of old feelings, more than just the pull of the past. This was something new, something raw, and it was pulling you both under.

Without another word, you stood, your movements slow and deliberate. You could feel Gojo’s eyes on you as you took a step back, your heart racing, and then you turned, walking toward your room. It wasn’t a decision you had consciously made—it was instinctual, driven by the pull that had been building between you for so long.

You didn’t have to look back to know that Gojo was following you.

The path to your room felt longer than it should have, each step heavy with anticipation, the quiet sound of Gojo’s footsteps right behind you sending your pulse racing. You could feel him—his presence like a magnetic force drawing you in, pulling you toward something you couldn’t quite name but knew you couldn’t stop.

When you reached your room, you hesitated for a moment, your hand resting on the doorframe as you took a deep breath. The weight of what was about to happen settled over you, but instead of fear, all you felt was a strange sense of calm. This was inevitable. This had been building for too long, and now, with the door open, there was no turning back.

You stepped inside, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. You turned, and Gojo was there, standing in the doorway, his blue eyes dark with something you had never quite seen in him before. The playful, carefree mask he so often wore was gone, replaced by a quiet intensity that took your breath away.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The tension between you was electric, and you could feel it in every inch of your body—the pull, the desire, the need that had been building for so long.

And then, finally, Gojo took a step forward.

It was slow at first, hesitant, as if he was giving you one last chance to stop this, to step back and close the door that had been opened. But you didn’t move. You couldn’t. The pull between you was too strong, too overwhelming to resist.

Gojo reached you, his hands finding your waist, and the warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine. His breath was warm against your skin, and for a moment, he hesitated, his forehead resting against yours as if he was trying to steady himself.

“You sure about this?” he whispered, his voice low and rough, filled with the same tension that had been simmering between you for days.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

That was all it took.

In the next moment, his lips were on yours, and the world around you seemed to fall away. The kiss was intense, filled with all the pent-up desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, and you could feel the heat of his body against yours, the weight of him grounding you in the moment.

It was everything you had been holding back, everything you had been afraid to admit, pouring out in a single moment of release.

And it was perfect.

Your hands found their way to his shoulders, your fingers curling into his shirt as you kissed him back, the taste of wine still lingering on his lips. The room felt smaller, the air between you thick with anticipation, and as Gojo deepened the kiss, all the tension, all the unspoken words, melted away, leaving only the two of you.

This was it. The line had been crossed, and there was no going back.

And for the first time, that didn’t scare you.

As Gojo’s hands slid up your back, pulling you even closer, you realized that this—whatever it was, whatever it would become—was the next step in whatever strange, beautiful, complicated thing was unfolding between you.

And you were ready for it.

The room was still, bathed in the soft light of the moon filtering through the curtains. The air was heavy with the weight of what had just happened, a quiet intimacy settling over you and Gojo as you lay beside each other. The tension that had been simmering for weeks had finally broken, but instead of the relief you had expected, there was something else—something softer, deeper.

Gojo’s arm was draped over your waist, his body warm and solid against yours. You lay with your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, feeling the rise and fall beneath you. The quiet between you was comfortable, but underneath it, there was still so much left unsaid. So much that lingered in the space between breaths.

You shifted slightly, your hand resting on his chest as you turned to look at him. Gojo’s eyes were half-closed, his usual bright blue gaze softened in the dim light, but he was watching you, his expression unreadable. There was a vulnerability in the way he looked at you now, something raw and unguarded that you hadn’t seen before.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched, not awkward but filled with a quiet understanding. You had crossed the line, stepped into something new, and there was no going back. But instead of the tension that had simmered between you for so long, there was something warmer, something more comforting in the aftermath.

Finally, Gojo broke the silence, his voice low and quiet. “You okay?”

You nodded, your hand still resting on his chest. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m okay.”

He let out a soft breath, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back as he held you close. “I didn’t… I didn’t plan for this to happen,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m not sorry.”

You smiled, a small, tired smile, and rested your head back on his chest. “Neither am I.”

It was the truth. You weren’t sorry. For weeks, maybe even months, this moment had been building, and now that it had finally happened, it felt like a weight had been lifted. The tension, the unspoken desires, the complicated feelings that had tangled between you—they had all been laid bare. And instead of feeling overwhelmed, you felt calm. Settled.

Gojo’s fingers continued to trace slow circles on your skin, and for a moment, the silence between you was enough. But there were still things you needed to say. Things that had lingered in the back of your mind, waiting for the right moment.

“Satoru,” you began softly, your voice hesitant.

“Hm?” His voice was a low hum, content and relaxed, but you could feel the shift in his body as he waited for you to continue.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. “What… what happens now? With us?”

There it was—the question that had been hanging in the air since the moment you crossed the line. You had been dancing around it for so long, avoiding the inevitable conversation, but now, with the tension gone and the intimacy of the night settling over you, there was no avoiding it anymore.

Gojo didn’t answer right away. His hand stilled on your back, and you could feel him thinking, processing the weight of your question. His chest rose and fell beneath you as he took a deep breath, and when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, careful.

“I don’t know,” he admitted softly. “I’m not sure what this means. But… I don’t want to go back to how things were before.”

You nodded, understanding the complexity of what he was saying. This wasn’t something that could be neatly categorized. Your relationship with Gojo had always been complicated, and now, after everything that had happened, it was even more so. But you didn’t want to go back either. The intimacy you had shared—the connection that had been building for so long—was something you couldn’t ignore.

“I don’t either,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet room. “But I’m scared. I don’t know what this means for us, for the kids.”

Gojo’s arm tightened around you, pulling you closer, and you felt the warmth of his body against yours. “I know,” he murmured. “And I’m not going to push you. Whatever this is, whatever happens, we’ll figure it out together.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. The path ahead was uncertain, filled with questions you didn’t have answers to, but Gojo’s presence beside you, his steady warmth, made the uncertainty a little easier to bear.

“I just want to be here for you,” he continued softly. “For you, for the kids. That’s all I know for sure.”

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, and you lifted your head to look at him. His blue eyes were open now, watching you carefully, and the raw honesty in his gaze made your heart ache.

“Satoru…” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “I’m scared to let you in. I don’t know if I can handle losing someone else.”

Gojo’s expression softened, and he reached up to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle. “You’re not going to lose me,” he said quietly. “I’m not going anywhere. I promised you that.”

You searched his face, looking for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was the same quiet determination that had been there since the moment he came back into your life. Gojo wasn’t like Suguru. He wasn’t going to walk away, wasn’t going to leave you to face the world alone.

For the first time in a long time, you believed him.

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. “Okay,” you whispered. “Okay.”

Gojo smiled softly, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. “We’ll take it slow,” he said gently. “One step at a time. No pressure, no expectations. Just… us.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of your fears begin to lift, replaced by a quiet sense of hope. It wasn’t going to be easy—nothing about your life had ever been easy—but with Gojo beside you, it felt like maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

“I can do that,” you whispered, your voice steadying. “One step at a time.”

Gojo leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulled back. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I’m not letting you go.”

You smiled, a real, genuine smile, and rested your head back on his chest. The quiet of the night settled around you again, but this time, the tension was gone. In its place was something softer, something more stable.

The door had been opened, and now, there was no going back. But instead of fear, all you felt was a quiet certainty.

This was the beginning of something new. Something uncertain, yes, but something worth holding on to.

And with Gojo beside you, for the first time in a long time, you were ready to face whatever came next.

The days following that night passed in a blur of quiet moments and stolen glances. The tension between you and Gojo had shifted, giving way to a softer, more intimate dynamic that felt as natural as it did unfamiliar. The unspoken connection between you was no longer tinged with awkwardness or uncertainty, but there was still the weight of everything that had happened. The newness of your relationship, whatever it had become, was something you were both navigating slowly, carefully.

There were no grand declarations, no discussions about what this meant for the future. Instead, you fell into a kind of unspoken understanding, a rhythm that came naturally as the days passed. It was easier to be around him now, easier to let him in, and with every passing day, it felt like the line you had crossed was becoming less daunting and more of a welcome presence in your life.

One morning, you woke up earlier than usual, the light filtering softly through the curtains as you lay in bed, your thoughts still hazy with sleep. Gojo wasn’t beside you, but that didn’t surprise you. He had taken to getting up early to help with the kids, something that had become a sort of quiet routine between the two of you. It was strange—this domesticity, this sense of normalcy—but it was comforting in a way you hadn’t expected.

You stretched, the soft warmth of the blanket still wrapped around you, before getting out of bed. The house was quiet, save for the distant sounds of your daughter’s giggles coming from the kitchen, and you couldn’t help but smile at the familiar sound. You walked down the hallway, pausing at the doorway to the kitchen, where you found Gojo sitting at the table with your daughter perched on his lap, the twins in their high chairs, babbling softly.

Gojo looked up when he heard you, his bright blue eyes meeting yours with a soft smile. “Morning,” he said, his voice low and warm.

“Morning,” you replied, leaning against the doorframe as you watched the scene unfold before you. It was still strange, seeing him so deeply involved in your everyday life, but it was a good kind of strange. He had slipped into this role so naturally, so effortlessly, and you couldn’t help but feel a swell of warmth as you watched him interact with your children.

Your daughter giggled again, reaching up to pat Gojo’s face, her little fingers poking at his cheek. “Papa Sato!” she chirped, a nickname she had started using more often lately.

Gojo’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by the term, but he quickly recovered, smiling down at her as he gently ruffled her hair. “That’s me,” he said playfully, though there was something deeper in his tone, something softer.

You bit back a smile, watching as Gojo handled the situation with his usual lightheartedness, but you could see the way the word had affected him. It was a simple thing—your daughter’s innocent use of “Papa Sato”—but it carried so much weight.

You walked over to the table, placing a hand on the back of one of the chairs before sitting down across from them. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full,” you said, glancing at the twins, who were both busy with their breakfast, babbling in their high chairs.

Gojo grinned, his usual mischievous spark returning. “You could say that,” he replied, his tone teasing. “But I’m handling it like a pro.”

Your daughter reached for her spoon, which Gojo handed to her, guiding her tiny hands as she tried to scoop up some food. The moment was simple, domestic, but it carried a weight that was hard to describe. You had never imagined this—this quiet life with Gojo, this shared responsibility of raising your children. But now that it was happening, you found yourself settling into it, slowly but surely.

The sound of the twins giggling brought your attention back to the table, and you smiled at them, your heart swelling with affection. The room was filled with warmth, the kind of warmth that you hadn’t felt in a long time. It was a far cry from the chaos that had defined your life in recent years, but it was a welcome change.

Gojo leaned back slightly, one arm still around your daughter as he looked at you. “You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, more serious.

You nodded, the weight of his question settling over you. “Yeah,” you said softly. “I think I am.”

Gojo’s eyes softened, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turned his attention back to the kids. It was a simple exchange, but it carried the quiet understanding that had come to define your relationship. There was no need for grand gestures or declarations. You both knew where you stood, and that was enough for now.

The rest of the morning passed in a peaceful rhythm. You and Gojo worked together to get the kids dressed, your daughter insisting on wearing her favorite outfit—one of Suguru’s old shirts that she had claimed as her own—and the twins babbling happily as they were settled into their play area. It was a simple routine, but it was one that had become second nature.

After the kids were settled, you found yourself standing in the kitchen again, cleaning up the remnants of breakfast while Gojo sat at the table, watching the twins with a soft smile. The quiet between you was comfortable, filled with the warmth of shared moments, but there was still an undercurrent of something unspoken, something that lingered in the air.

As you wiped down the counter, Gojo’s voice broke the silence, his tone thoughtful. “You know,” he began slowly, “I’ve been thinking about what we talked about the other night.”

You paused, glancing over at him. He was watching you, his expression serious but not tense. You knew what he was referring to—the conversation you’d had after crossing the line, the talk of what this new dynamic meant for both of you.

“What about it?” you asked, your voice steady but curious.

Gojo leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the table. “I just… I don’t want you to feel like I’m pushing you into anything,” he said softly. “I know things are complicated, and I don’t want to make it harder for you.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, you were quiet, processing the sincerity behind them. Gojo had always been confident, always sure of himself, but when it came to you, there was a new kind of gentleness, a vulnerability that made you realize just how much he cared.

You walked over to him, leaning against the back of the chair as you met his gaze. “You’re not pushing me,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.”

Gojo’s eyes softened, and he reached out, his fingers gently brushing against yours where they rested on the chair. The touch was light, but it carried with it a quiet reassurance that made your heart ache in the best way.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he said quietly. “That’s all.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand gently. “I know,” you whispered. “And I appreciate it. But I’m okay, Satoru. Really.”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward or heavy. It was the kind of silence that came with understanding, with acceptance. The two of you were still figuring things out, still navigating this new territory, but the foundation was there, and it was strong.

Gojo’s fingers lingered on yours for a moment longer before he leaned back, his usual playful grin returning. “Well, good,” he said, his voice lighter now. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes as you straightened up. “Yeah, I figured.”

As the morning wore on, the ease between you remained. The newness of your relationship was still there, still fragile, but it was growing stronger with every passing day. The tension that had once defined your interactions was gone, replaced by a quiet comfort that made everything feel just a little bit easier.

For the first time in a long time, your life felt like it was settling into something normal. Something good.

And as you watched Gojo playing with your children, his laughter mixing with theirs, you realized that this—whatever it was, whatever it would become—was exactly where you were meant to be.

The night was quiet, wrapped in the warmth of familiarity and intimacy. The moonlight filtered softly through the curtains, casting gentle shadows across the room. The sound of your steady breathing and the rhythmic rise and fall of Gojo’s chest created a comforting rhythm that filled the space. The world outside felt far away, distant, as you lay wrapped in the afterglow of the night you had shared.

Gojo’s arm was draped lazily around your waist, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your bare skin. The closeness between you felt different now—more settled, more real. There was no longer the tension of uncertainty hanging between you, no more unspoken words waiting to be addressed. What had started with a hesitant kiss had grown into something far deeper, something neither of you had quite expected but welcomed nonetheless.

The silence was comfortable, each of you lost in your own thoughts, but you knew where Gojo’s mind had drifted. You could see it in the way his eyes softened whenever they lingered on you. There was something unspoken still lingering, something that neither of you had dared to bring up. Not yet.

Gojo’s fingers stilled for a moment before he spoke, his voice low and quiet, almost hesitant. “You ever think about it?”

You blinked, turning your head to look at him, your mind still half-lost in the haze of contentment. “About what?”

He smiled softly, his gaze shifting away from you, as though he was embarrassed to say it out loud. “About… what it would be like. If we had a kid together.”

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. It wasn’t something you had really thought about—at least, not consciously. But now that he had said it, now that the possibility was out there, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

A child. A baby that looked like Gojo—his bright blue eyes, his white hair, that mischievous grin that always seemed to carry the weight of the world so lightly.

You smiled at the thought, the idea of it settling into your mind with surprising ease. “I’ve… thought about it,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just didn’t think it was something we’d ever talk about.”

Gojo’s gaze snapped back to yours, his eyes wide with surprise, but there was something else there too. Hope. He propped himself up on one elbow, his eyes searching your face. “You have?”

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the way he was looking at you. “Yeah. I mean… I have three kids already. But the idea of having one that looks like you… It’s crossed my mind.”

Gojo’s smile widened, a soft chuckle escaping him. “I’m surprised you’d want a mini-me running around. You sure you’re ready for that chaos?”

You laughed, the sound light and easy. “I don’t know if I’m ready, but… I don’t think it’s the worst idea.”

There was a pause, the air between you thick with the weight of the conversation. You hadn’t expected to talk about this, not so soon, but now that the idea was out there, it felt… right. Like it was something that had been lingering in the background all along, waiting for the right moment to come to light.

Gojo’s hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “A baby,” he murmured, almost to himself. “One that looks like me, huh?”

You smiled, your hand resting on his chest as you tilted your head to meet his gaze. “White hair, blue eyes, and all.”

Gojo’s eyes softened, his playful grin fading into something more serious, more intimate. “It’s strange,” he said quietly. “I never thought about having kids. Not until now. But seeing you with them, seeing how happy they make you… I don’t know. I guess I started wondering.”

You looked at him, your heart swelling with affection. The idea of having a baby with Gojo wasn’t something you had let yourself dwell on before, but now that the thought was there, it felt… natural. You had already built a life together in so many ways—raising the children, sharing your home, finding comfort in each other’s presence. The idea of adding a new life to that mix, one that was a part of both of you, felt like the next step in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

“What would you want?” you asked softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. “A boy or a girl?”

Gojo chuckled, leaning into your touch. “Doesn’t matter. As long as they’re healthy, I don’t care. But I bet you’d want a little girl. Someone you could dress up and spoil.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You think I’d spoil her?”

He grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I think you’d spoil her rotten. And you know what? I would too.”

The thought of it—a little girl with Gojo’s eyes, running around, laughing, getting into mischief—made your heart ache in the best way. It was a dream, a possibility that hadn’t been there before, but now it felt so real, so attainable.

“You’d be a good dad,” you whispered, your voice soft but filled with certainty.

Gojo’s eyes softened, his hand still resting gently on your cheek. “You think so?”

“I know so,” you said, smiling at him. “You’re already so good with the kids. They love you. And you love them.”

Gojo’s gaze flickered with something deeper, something more vulnerable. “I didn’t expect this,” he admitted softly. “Any of it. But now that it’s here, I can’t imagine my life without it. Without you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned up, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It was gentle, a silent acknowledgment of everything you had shared, everything you were building together.

“A baby,” you murmured against his lips. “I can see it.”

Gojo pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours, a quiet intensity in his gaze. “I want that,” he whispered, his voice filled with a sincerity that made your chest tighten. “With you.”

The weight of his words settled over you, but instead of fear or uncertainty, all you felt was warmth. You had never imagined your life taking this turn—never imagined that after everything you had been through, you would find this kind of peace with Gojo. But now that it was happening, now that the possibility of a new life, a new baby, was out there, it felt right.

“You really want this?” you asked softly, your voice barely audible in the quiet room.

Gojo’s smile was soft, his hand brushing your hair away from your face as he nodded. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I really do.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding, your heart pounding in your chest as you leaned into him, your body relaxing against his. The future was uncertain, but for the first time in a long time, it felt full of possibilities—beautiful, messy, chaotic possibilities.

As you lay there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the dream of a baby with Gojo became more than just a fleeting thought. It became something real, something you both wanted, something you could both see in your future.

And as you drifted off to sleep, the thought of what could be lingered in the back of your mind, filling you with a quiet sense of hope.

A new baby. A new life.

One that looked like Gojo, white hair, blue eyes, and all.

notes: ITS DONE THANK FUCKING GOD!

taglist: @username23345 @arminswifee @tomiokasecretlover @ffyona1214 @tojirin @eggrollforyou @ironicsss @asahinasstuff @feitanett @xdinaryheroesstan @laviefantasie @hyunsuks-beanie @starlightanyaaa @tanyaspartak @forever-paramore28 @saatorubby @ssetsuka @archiveoftherain @kxrla-20 @reesesnieces

©apollogeticx ⋆ all rights reserved.

[nivasichakano]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tag @patheticfangirl! Procrastination on a Monday? Don't mind if I do. 1. How many works do you have on AO3? 18 — 16 for BG3 and 2 for Arcane (sorry Jayvik one day I'll come back to you 😭) 2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

433,097 (never finished writing a thing in my life before I discovered Astarion, thanks darling).

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Hustle - What I want to write: angsty romantasy. What I actually write: Bloodweave YouTubers. I love these boys. WeaveStitch 4eva <3

Hiraeth - My First Fanfiction, an isekai about a BG3 gamer who finds herself dragged into Faerun. I didn't know how to use AO3 then, I tagged my OC, Astarion, and Gale in a threesome by accident, and Gale and Astarion are super horny for each other throughout because I didn't yet know it was my life's calling to write Bloodweave. But I'm proud of the ending and people still seem to like it.

What Friends Are For - Also known as, Nivasi discovers Bloodweave. This fic has my favorite chapters of anything I've written ever (chapters 11-13).

Driven - Meepbois 😭 I miss them so they're getting a one-year anniversary epilogue this year.

Snakes & Ladders - A silly one-shot enabled by the Bloodweave Brainrot Discord. No tadpole AU in which Astarion is sent by Cazador to steal from Gale.

4. What fandoms do you write for?

BG3 and Arcane. On a knife's edge about Invisible Boys and IWTV.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Always. I'd like to pretend that I 'write for myself' but you know it's true, everything I do, I do it for you(r comments).

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Familiar is probably the angstiest thing I've written ('What if Gale's dad was one of Astarion's victims?'). Otherwise, Hiraeth has a very bittersweet ending.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Literally everything else.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Someone once compared Hiraeth to Twilight, which I consider to be hateful.

9. Do you write smut?

I mean... I try 😅 Not well?

10. Do you write crossovers?

I haven't, but I'm open to it.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, but I think it'd be fun. HMU.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Bloodweave. I can't believe I'm still here over a year later. Just love 'em.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

*cries in Eurovision fic shame* I do actually really want to finish After the End, my Jayvik longfic too, since it's all plotted out. But I realised I can't work on more than one thing at once and Hellfire Club Bloodweave AU is dragging me into the hells at the moment.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I genuinely don't know how to answer this. Uhh, the ability to make absolutely everything a romcom?

Actually, I just came back to this one because I remembered that I can write the shit out of a first chapter. Give me any prompt and that first chapter will be with you in under an hour.

It's just finishing them that's the problem.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Making everything a romcom, if you hate romcoms, I guess. Other than that, oh, so many things: procrastination, repetition, cliches, getting distracted by shiny new ideas, autistic Gale + bbgirl Astarion

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I did it in Driven, because Astarion speaks French, and it taught me how not good Google Translate is. I ended up getting help from the lovely French Quarter of BWBR in the end, and would always go straight to this option in the future.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

BG3! This has been my first experience of fandom and my first time writing fics. I like it. You're all onto something here.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

I think it's got to be Driven. It's not as popular as Hustle, but I received the most surprising amount of love for this story. To the extent that it was actually emotional when it came to an end? Which I really wasn't expecting when I plonked a wizard and a vampire into F1 cars. Thanks meeple <3

* Riddle me this @badmarilynart @hylianworrier

[juniper-sunny]

The Art in the Heart* - Chapter 21

Silco tells you everything you needed to hear—and more...

Happy Ending AU | Silco x Reader | Young!Silco | F!Reader | No [Y/N] | Slow Burn | Romance | Smut | Fluff | Angst | Hurt/Comfort | Fix-It || NSFW | Thigh Riding, Cockwarming, P in V Sex | WC: 6.48k

beta reader: @silcoitus <333

ao3 || Masterlist || Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 || Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20

───────────────── ●◉◎◈◎◉● ─────────────────

It’s another long, lonely night of sleeping in the sick bay, filled with dreams of wandering a dark, foggy void, calling out Silco’s name as you stumble clumsily into the abyss. At least your imagination is generous to you tonight, conjuring a warm, strong hand that cradles yours all night long. Their scars and calluses are bumpy against your palm as you squeeze them tight, and they squeeze you back. A small but sweet sign of affection that makes your heart ache in your chest, a rumbling undercurrent in your uneasy slumber. 

You wake sluggishly, trying to pull the fatigue off your consciousness as if it were a thin, sticky film clinging to your hands and fingers. Tempted by the warmth of the blanket to just keep sleeping, hoping that the strange hand will hold yours again. A loud yawn peels out of your mouth, drowning out the low hum of voices in the background. Low footsteps hurry to your side as you blink groggily. 

“How are you feeling?” Silco’s voice asks you anxiously. 

As you sit up, Silco holds out a cup of water to you. Your thumb brushes up against his as you take the cup from him, sipping slowly to avoid answering his question. A stone lodges in your throat as you drink, and your fingernails scrape the ceramic as your hands tighten around the cup. Even if you’re happy to see he kept his promise, it’s not enough to quell the anguished twinge in your chest. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask gruffly, your throat straining painfully as you speak. 

“I made a promise, didn’t I?” he asks with a sad smile. He pulls up a stool to sit close to you.

You don’t point out how he’s broken promises to you before. After all, you’re finally adjusting to the fact that he’s not in your life anymore. Even if he’s been spending these past few days in the infirmary to be close to you, the distance between you might as well be a cavernous gulf, a trench as wide and deep as the one between Zaun and Piltover. 

As you lean over to put the cup on your bedside table, Silco scoots closer to you, the stool sliding against the floor. You self-consciously fidget with the blanket, avoiding his gaze as he watches you.

“Are you hungry?” he asks. “Dinner is currently being served, I could grab you a plate if you like—”

You shake your head. “Silco… you said you had something to tell me last night. I want to hear it now.” 

When you look up to meet his eyes, they’re just as bright and clear as you remember. A cool hue that’s neither purely blue or green, but a beautiful in-between, a tranquil summer lake on a sunny day. 

“Could we speak somewhere private?” he asks awkwardly. 

His voice snaps you back to reality, and you nod. As you pull back the blanket, Silco extends a hand out to you. His fingers unfurl gracefully, revealing the tempting canvas of his palm. You’ve already recovered enough to stand on your own, so you hesitate as you sit on the edge of the mattress. 

It might be your last chance to touch Silco. You have no idea what he has in store for you, but a dull pain scours the inside of your chest as you take a moment to appreciate the bittersweet gesture. Carefully, you reach out to take his hand, wanting desperately to maintain the illusion that he wants to touch you as badly as you want to touch him. You move hesitantly as if he were a bubble that could pop—

The doors slam open just as your fingertips graze the crease in his palm. You yank your hand back as you both swerve to look at the doorway where a harried Cuny stands.

“We need help,” she says, exasperated. “Some children tried ‘borrowing’ the ice cream machine and it fell over.” 

“Was anyone hurt?” Silco asks, shocked. 

“No, but it’s leaking all over the kitchen.” 

Across the room, a doctor chuckles as he walks over to follow Cuny out. Silco turns to look at you, his lips twitching as he fights the urge to smile in amusement.

“Aren’t you going to help?” you ask. 

“They seem to have the matter well in hand,” Silco says dismissively, his brows furrowing almost imperceptibly as his eyes dart back to the door.

You take a deep breath as you steel yourself to say, “Why don’t you go help? They need your help more than I do right now.” 

“...Are you sure?” he asks hesitantly. 

“Yeah. I want to shower and get changed anyways,” you try to say casually, even as a screaming voice inside you begs him to stay. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

The invitation slips out of your mouth before you can take it back, an old habit back from when you two were still dating. An appreciative smile spreads on his lips as he gets to his feet.

“I’ll come find you,” he says earnestly. 

Your hand rises to your sternum as you rub your chest, trying to soothe the agony of watching him walk away from you. The sooner you get used to it, the better. If you can show him that you’re fine with him choosing the Undercity over you, the sooner the both of you can move on, even if the stakes are relatively trivial in this instance. After taking a few deep breaths to staunch the tears welling in your eyes, you slap your own cheeks and stand decisively before striding over to the door.

Nyle and Leksy reach the threshold just as you’re about to cross it. The woman steers her sleepy-eyed stepdaughter towards you as she sways on her feet.

“Hi,” Nyle greets you cheerfully. “We just wanted to say goodnight.” 

You give her a polite nod and look down at Leksy. She blinks owlishly at you as you kneel down. 

“Goodnight, Leksy,” you say sweetly as you brush her hair out of her eyes, cupping her cheek before you boop her nose. 

She giggles and smiles. “Goodnight, auntie.” 

As you get to your feet, her smile twists into a scowl. Before you can ask her what’s wrong, she asks, “If you’re my auntie, does that mean Silco’s my uncle?”

“Leksy!” Nyle admonishes her, cringing. 

“It’s okay,” you answer automatically with a calm, unruffled smoothness. It’s the same facade you use whenever a child asks where babies come from, a careful balancing act of encouraging a child’s curiosity while teaching them new manners. At least it hurts less when Leksy asks you about your relationship prospects, her innocent obliviousness more tolerable than Sevika’s bluntness. “Not all families work like that. He’s not your uncle.” 

“Good,” she growls. Despite yourself, you can’t help but let out a laugh, which you quickly disguise as a cough. 

Nyle shakes her head, grimacing. “Okay, time for bed.”

Leksy raises her arms as Nyle picks her up. The little girl snuggles into her stepmother’s neck, eyes drooping shut as she yawns widely. 

“Sorry about that,” Nyle whispers.

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“Haven’t seen you around lately,” she says, concerned. “You doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say automatically, a reflex you developed from your time in the sick bay. 

She scans your face thoughtfully. “If there’s anything you want to talk about, I’m here for you. You’ve done so much for us, it’s the least I can do.”

“It’s no problem,” you say with a shrug. 

“Are you kidding? Saving Leksy, letting us stay here… I can’t thank you enough,” she says gratefully. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you say again, giving her a patient smile. 

“So… are we good?” She watches you even as she shuffles her feet nervously, clinging tighter to her stepdaughter.

“...I don’t know,” you admit after a long pause. Truthfully, your near-death experience has sapped away so much of your hatred for her, putting into perspective that there are bigger things in life to worry about. If anything, the heartbreak that Silco put you through makes your falling out with Nyle seem childish in comparison, even if you haven’t forgiven her yet. 

“Well, I’m here for you, no matter what,” she says sincerely. “Have a good night.” 

“Bye.” 

You watch as Nyle walks away, waiting for her to gain a significant lead before you follow. The dormitory and the showers are on the same floor, and you don’t feel up to the task of walking and talking with her. 

The trek to the bathroom makes you feel like a soldier walking into a barracks. Gearing up for the day as you shower, brush your hair, and put on clean clothes. You try to make yourself presentable for this last moment with Silco, doing your best not to cry even as an inevitable scenario lodges itself in your brain. 

He’s going to tell you that he doesn’t love you anymore. When he saved your life, he only meant it as a platonic gesture that he would have done for any of his acquaintances. He might even tell you that he’s seeing someone new, and that you should do the same. The last sentiment has you swallowing hard, trying not to choke up. At least your protective shell is reemerging from your pessimism, more solid and less fragile than before, reassembling itself one piece at a time as you focus on your breathing. Giving you the strength to pull yourself together for at least one more night, hardening your resolve to not break down in front of Silco again. 

As you make your way down to the cafeteria, you mentally rehearse what you’re going to say, as you need to convince him—and yourself—that you’re going to be fine. Even though he spoke to you more harshly than he needed to that night, that’s the only thing he needs to apologize for. If he thinks ending your relationship to focus on Zaun is the right thing to do, then he should commit to it. There’s no need for him to linger around you out of guilt. A clean break would be less painful, and maybe you and him can revisit the idea of being friends again in the future, once it stops hurting so much. 

You wonder if you should move to Piltover. You’ve made a fool out of yourself in front of Silco twice already, the second time in a public setting. Embarrassment heats your face as you recall the commotion you made, too busy internally reprimanding yourself to realize that someone is calling your name. You don’t see them until you almost bump into them, a large wall of man blocking the hallway.

“There she is,” Vander’s voice greets you merrily. “Good to see you up and about.”

“Oh, hey Vander,” you say to him, distracted. But as you force yourself to make eye contact with him, a genuine smile blooms on your face. The bartender’s good mood is infectious, and you find yourself surprised at how happy you are to see him. “How are you?” 

“I’m grand, thanks,” he says. “Could use your help with something, if that’s alright.” 

“Sure, what’s up?”

He jerks his head down the hallway, indicating for you to follow him. A roguish twinkle gleams in his eye as he leads you into the cafeteria to stand in line for today’s soup. The queue is extra long right now, trailing out of the lunchroom into the outer hallway, but it moves at a decent pace. You walk past a stern Cuny, wagging her finger at a row of children hanging their heads in shame. It surprises you to see Vi and Powder in the lineup, their clothes splattered with ice cream. 

“Oh, Teema said you guys were helping out,” you tell Vander hastily, berating yourself for not mentioning it sooner. “Thanks so much.”

“We look out for each other. It’s the way it’s always been,” he says matter-of-factly, then gestures at the serving station. “Could you grab some more?”

After adding a second bowl of soup to your tray, Vander adds a second and third to his own. The two of you peel out of the line, making your way to a table where Sevika and Benzo sit. Benzo greets you with a cheery wave while Sevika’s eyes alight on you, piercing and curious. Vander serves his friends before taking a seat on Benzo’s other side. You self-consciously tuck a lock of hair behind your ear after placing your own bowls on the table. 

“Hey,” you greet Sevika and Benzo awkwardly before turning to the woman. “Um, I’m sorry about before—”

“It’s fine,” she says neutrally. Coming from Sevika, it’s the most sincere forgiveness you’ll ever get from her, so you smile at her, relieved. 

“Thanks for everything,” you tell the Children as you take the trays. “If you need anything, feel free to ask.”

Vander frowns at you. “You’re not going to join us?”

You shake your head. “Sorry.”

The bartender cranes his neck to look over your shoulder. “What about you?” 

Startled, you turn around to see Silco hovering a few paces behind you. He stands straighter than usual, tendons straining in his neck, his casual elegance ruined by how stiffly he holds himself.  

“Perhaps another time,” he says quietly. His gaze lands on you, turquoise eyes gleaming through his dark hair. “Shall we speak now?”

“Actually, I’m down to eat if you are.” Seized by inspiration, you look up hopefully at him. As much as you miss Silco, you miss your friends, too. A dinner with all of them could be a nice memory, a good-bye party of sorts as you’re going to want to keep your distance from them after tonight, even if only for a little while. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, surprised. 

“Food’s getting cold,” Benzo cuts in. “Grab us some drinks, will you?”

“I’ll get them.” You tuck the trays under your arm and try to walk around Silco, but he holds up his hands to block your way.

“Please, allow me,” he says with a small smile. He takes the trays from you before striding off.

You take a seat across from Sevika, pulling a bowl of soup towards you. It’s a dish you’ve had before, a thick, savory seafood chowder filled with small crackers and vegetable chunks. It warms your belly and soul like never before, as every spoonful is so heartening, it makes you grateful to be alive. As you hold yourself back from snarfing it down, you recall an old memory of another mealtime with Silco. 

(“That’s quite tasty,” he says appreciatively.

 The sound of his voice snaps you out of your trance. “So you like it?”

 “It tastes better in good company,” he says, looking directly at you.)

The man himself reappears with five glasses of water. He sets one down in front of you first, and he smiles at you when you thank him. Too late, you realize that the only place for him to sit is directly next to you. You scoot surreptitiously to the side to make room for him as he gracefully steps over the bench to take a seat. The side of your face tingles at his proximity, a spark dancing on your elbow as it brushes against his, either from your hypersensitivity or from static electricity.

“Are you really leaving the underground?” Sevika asks you bluntly. 

“Uh—” you blush from embarrassment, face already warm from the soup. You clear your throat to buy yourself time, wondering how Sevika found out. Silco could have confided in her, but you were so loud the other day she could have overheard you herself. Her gray eyes watch you inquisitively, and you chuckle nonchalantly as you try to play it off. “No way. You’re all stuck with my ugly mug forever.”

Surprise flashes across Silco’s face before he protests, “You’re not ugly, you’re—”

He stops himself, biting his lip before he takes a swig of water. You glance sideways at him, curious about the rest of his sentence. But he avoids your gaze, the tips of his ears reddening brightly. 

“Has anyone ever tried that?” Benzo asks thoughtfully. 

“Tried what?” You turn to look at him, thankful that he’s stopping the awkward moment in its tracks. 

“We’ll round up the Undercity’s ugliest and have them meet with the Council,” he explains. “They’ll be so disgusted, they’ll give us whatever we want. Just so they’ll never have to look at us again.”

“You and Vander will have to be part of that crew,” Sevika says, amused.

“You think my mug is ugly?” Vander pouts. 

“Just past the average,” Benzo says before breaking into uproarious laughter. 

You can’t help but join in, your hand rising to your mouth to muffle your giggles. It’s such a mean-spirited idea, but still amusing to no end. 

“I presume the two of you will be leading this committee,” Silco muses with a smirk. “There’s no one better qualified, after all.”

The bartender and shopkeeper guffaw heartily, and even Sevika grins with a rakish slant. You hide your own smile behind your cup as you sip water. 

“Has anyone been to The Last Drop lately?” Silco asks, a worried edge creeping into his voice. “I hate to imagine the extent of the damage. The flooding could set us back weeks…” 

“We’ll be closed for a few days, but that’s alright. Everyone else will be, too,” Vander says reassuringly.

“If there’s anything we can do, just let us know,” you chime in. “And you guys can stay here as long as you need.”

“Really?” Silco asks. When you nod, he gives you a thankful smile. “That would be greatly appreciated.” 

“It’s no problem.” You smile back before dropping your eyes down to your soup. 

You take your time eating, basking in your friends’ company. They carry the bulk of the conversation, speculating about when they’ll be able to reopen the pub. Even though you try to pay attention, you can’t help but be hyperaware of Silco sitting so close to you, a radar tuned into his every movement. Feeling the air move as he shifts in his seat, or tracking how smoothly he lifts a spoon into his mouth. When he reaches past you to grab the pepper, you choke on your water, spitting into your cup as your throat convulses painfully. The men give you concerned looks as you insist that you’re okay. It makes you glad when Silco excuses himself to go to the restroom.

“Does anyone want seconds?” you ask, trying to focus your full attention on your friends. Internally, you’re fighting the impulse to turn and look at Silco as he walks away. 

The men shake their heads as they gather the cutlery and empty bowls. Benzo grabs the cups and raises his own at you. “Thanks again, lass. You’re a good woman, you know that?”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you joke. 

“I promise you, he doesn’t,” Vander says with a chuckle. “You take care now.”

“You too,” you tell them before they walk away, hands full with dirty dishes. 

When Sevika reaches out for her crutch, you stand up to help her. She leans on you as she tucks it under her armpit. Even without being able to stand on her own two feet, she towers over you. 

“You were being weird,” Sevika says before smirking at you. 

“No I wasn’t,” you deny vehemently, even as your ears burn. “What—that’s—that’s none of your business—you’re being weird!”

“Just hear him out. If you don’t like what he has to say, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“You already owe me one,” you point out.

Chuckling, she turns from you before walking off, raising a hand in farewell. 

Still flustered, you grab a clean napkin and wipe the table down, rubbing zealous circles into the wood. This time, when Silco walks up behind you, you’re ready for him, contorting your face into a neutral expression before turning to him.

“Has everyone retired for the evening?” he asks. 

You nod, clearing your throat. “I’m ready if you are.”

“Please, lead the way,” he says quietly. 

As you make your way out of the cafeteria and upstairs, he follows closely behind you. You can’t tell if his eyes are boring into the back of your head, or if you’re just being too self-conscious. A part of you just wants to get this over with, to rip off the bandage once and for all. Carrying Sevika up six flights of stairs was easier than leading Silco to your bedroom in apprehensive silence. 

Just as you turn the knob of your bedroom door, you’re struck with the horrific realization that you haven’t tidied up in weeks. You cringe as you flick on the lights, bracing yourself for the humiliation. But it seems like someone cleaned up for you, as the abundant piles of dirty laundry and unwashed dishes are all gone. Even the bed has been made, your rumpled sheets replaced with clean ones, the blanket and pillow lined up neatly. Still, there are countless towers of old sketchbooks surrounding the bed like the outer wall of a castle, interspersed with a dozen or so wooden crates filled with canvases you haven’t sold off or painted over yet. You look back fondly on these childhood mementos with nostalgia and pride, but now you wish you hadn’t hoarded so much. At least there’s a clear path to the bed, which is the only piece of furniture in the room. 

“Sorry about the mess,” you mumble. You hold the door open for him, gesturing for him to go in first. 

“This isn’t messy at all,” he chuckles as he strides into the room. “You should see the absolute state of Vander’s room after a party.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him as you close the door behind you. It’s unlike him to try and lighten the mood, considering his solemn manner earlier. He stands awkwardly, weight restlessly shifting from one foot to the other, as if he could tell that his joke was the wrong thing to say. He clears his throat as he shoves his hands in his pockets. 

“You can sit, if you want.” You gesture at the bed. 

“Thank you,” he says gratefully. As he takes a seat, he looks questioningly at you. You hadn’t planned on sitting next to him, but it feels too awkward to remain standing while he looks up at you. Impulsively, you grab a pillow as you sit down next to him, hugging it for comfort. It squishes against your arms, a soothing softness that you cling to. 

Silco takes a deep breath, leaning forward as he shifts towards the end of the mattress, resting his elbows on his knees. He wrings his hands fretfully, his bracelet shaking erratically on his wrist. 

“I would like to apologize to you,” he says, voice dripping with remorse. “There are too many mistakes I must atone for. And each passing day reveals a new one. But… truthfully, the prospect of your death—”

Fear flashes across his face as he swallows hard. It’s strange to see him so rattled after he dumped you so coldly. Some small part of you wants to reach out to him, to reassure him that you’re alive and well. Instead, you hug the pillow tighter. 

“If you would be so kind as to indulge my curiosity first…” he says slowly. “Would you have gone looking for the girl if we were still together?”

“Yes,” you say without hesitation. “I would’ve gone straight to her place.”

“Would you have asked for my help?”

“Well…” you ponder out loud. “I don’t think I would’ve gone out of my way to go looking for you. But if we bumped into each other, I would’ve asked you to come with me.” 

You chuckle as you imagine the scenario playing out. Silco would have ordered you to go back to the Embrace, and you would have said no, holding your ground defiantly. After arguing with him for a few minutes, you would have told him to get out of your way if he didn’t want to help you. He’d follow you, exasperated and worried. Sevika and Leksy would’ve been rescued much sooner. 

He lets out a long sigh of relief, deflating as the tension leaves his shoulders. 

“Oh, thanks, I guess,” you add. “For saving my life and everything. And… I’m sorry I yelled at you. Leksy got here safe, so it all worked out.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he says quickly, a notch cutting between his brows as he frowns. “Nor do I deserve your gratitude. You have saved me countless times, sometimes from myself. I am still deeply indebted to you.

“You have done nothing but avail yourself to me, as well as the Undercity,” he continues. “When I questioned your dedication to Zaun, I was fixated on how your vocation differed from mine. That was enough to make me wrongly believe that yours was inferior. I wanted to guide you to the ‘correct’ path. But I was wrong.”

It hurts to be reminded of the awful things he said that night. They cloud your mood, like oily toxins swirling in the River Pilt. You try to keep your face neutral as you take in his words, waiting for him to finish. 

“I never should have diminished the magnitude of the work you do here,” he laments. “You are far from useless, and you never have been. I’m sorry I ever said otherwise.”

Even though you’ve fantasized endlessly about his apology, it still catches you off-guard to hear it out loud. You focus on the pillow’s smoothness underneath your fingertips, how easily your arms sink into its downy softness—physical sensations to keep yourself grounded, reminders that you’re not daydreaming. He’s really sitting next to you, saying the things you’ve needed to hear. “What changed your mind?” 

“If Topside had granted us independence before the flooding, it wouldn’t have saved anyone. The Undercity needs more than just a promise of a better future. They need help here and now,” Silco says. “As you said, there is more than one way to help Zaun. Hurting Topside is just one of them. But helping the youth is another. There is no future for the underground if the next generation isn’t cared for.”

You look at him, astonished. He gazes back at you, unwavering and sincere. The pillow droops in your arms as your hold around it loosens. You were prepared to cut ties with him if he insisted he had nothing to apologize for, but so far, his apology is exceeding your expectations. Him taking back his words is one thing; hearing how his whole ideology has changed is another. 

“Well, I’m glad you and the Children are helping out, too. Thanks for that,” you say gratefully. You set the pillow down in your lap, resting your hands on top of it.

He shakes his head. “It’s the least we can do to repay your hospitality.”

“True,” you say with a smirk. “Cuny might try to poach some of the Children to work here full-time.” 

Silco’s hair falls in his face, and he sighs as he tucks it behind his ear. He rubs his temples, closing his eyes. When he looks at you again, a muscle in his jaw twitches as he bites his cheek.

“I need to apologize for that as well. I was wrong to be so insistent on having you join the Children. You had already made your preferences clear, and I disregarded them,” Silco says, frowning. “It was wrong of me to try and dictate your choices. No matter what you choose to do, you’ll do good for everyone around you. Whether that’s here, Topside, or elsewhere in Runeterra.

“And I never should have spoken to you so harshly that night, and the night before,” he continues, ashamed. “I redirected my anger towards you when, truthfully, I was angry with myself. With my own weakness. My failures have nothing to do with you.”

“You’re not weak, Silco. You’d have to be some kind of monster to be able to take on six Enforcers and win,” you point out. “And yeah, you missed the raid, but that doesn’t mean you failed.” 

“I failed to treat you the way you deserve. There’s no disputing that.”

“Yeah, but we all make mistakes. What’s important is that we don’t repeat them,” you tease him gently.

He doesn’t flinch at your words. If anything, he gazes deeper into you, unblinking. All the layers of his bravado peeled back to expose a raw, naked vulnerability, so hopeful and earnest, eyes pure and clear as ocean glass. You can almost see him physically fighting the urge to get down on his knees and take your hands in his to grovel; instead, his shoulders stiffen as he sits up even straighter. His chest rises as he takes a deep breath, pulling all the air from the room as he braces himself. 

“I love you. You are everything to me. I never should have made you leave,” he says softly. “Whatever you decide for our—for your future, please know that I am so sorry. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but if there’s anything I can do to earn it, you only need to say the word.”

Everything he’s been saying tonight has been so vindicating to hear. But his last declaration, most of all, makes warmth bloom in your chest, sunlight caressing your heart. So happy to have your deepest wish granted, even as you tried to bury it. Hope overcoming your fear that taking him back would be a mistake. 

“This is your last chance to change your mind,” you try to say with a steady voice. Even as you’re overwhelmed, a part of you is still afraid that all of this is too good to be true. “Maybe someone new will join the Children, and they’ll be strong enough to arm wrestle Vander with their pinky.”

“As amusing as that would be to witness, I wouldn’t want them.” A smile blooms slowly on his face. “I want you, and only you.”

“Are you sure?”

He nods resolutely.

His conviction makes you want to reach out and touch him, but you curl your hands into fists instead. As eager as you are to give him another chance, you need to know that things are going to be different this time.

“If you ever speak to me like that again—like you did that night—I really will move to Piltover,” you warn him. “And you’ll never see me again.” 

“I understand,” he says solemnly. 

“If you ever feel like I’m holding you back—”

“You could never. And you never have.”

“—then you need to talk to me,” you say loudly. “And we can work it out together.” 

“I will. I promise,” he says, heartfelt. 

You scoot closer to Silco, resting your head on his shoulder, the leather of his jacket smooth against your ear. Startled, his breath hitches above you as his body tenses. Before you can pull away, he relaxes, turning to press his lips to your hair. 

“And I want a house by the river, with an indoor pool,” you say. “I’m fine with waiting until you become a councilor.”

“Isn’t that redundant?” Silco chuckles.

“You’ll help me practice swimming in the pool, dummy.” You roll your eyes at his obliviousness. “Then we can go swimming in the river together.”

“Ah, of course. That’s very sensible,” he says thoughtfully.

Silence settles between you, charged with anticipation. He moves his hand slowly, placing it carefully over your own. The weight of his palm warms the back of your hand as your fingers intertwine. You squeeze him tight, exhilarated at being able to touch him again, savoring how his large hand completely envelopes yours. He squeezes you back, mindful not to use his full strength. 

“You’re lucky I’m still in love with you,” you tease him even as your heart trembles. 

“I’m fortunate to know you at all. To be loved by you is a privilege I will never, ever take for granted again,” he murmurs. 

He brings your hand to his lips, kissing the back of your hand, mouth pressed fervently into your skin. “You had my heart from a mile away… it’s yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

As you pull away to look at him, he moves to kiss your knuckles, lips molding to them. When his eyes meet yours, they burn hot with unspoken desire, pulling you in with their inescapable gravity. You lean in, nudging your nose against his as he lowers his hand. 

There’s nothing stopping you from closing the distance between his lips and yours. Just the last, shivering anticipation of coming home after a long time away. His breath warm against your face, his hand even warmer as he cups your cheek. 

You kiss him. He’s as soft and as loving as you remember, even sweeter now as he moves his mouth against yours, slow, savoring, relishing your taste. You slide your hand underneath the collar of his shirt, his breath hitching as your thumb traces the shelf of his collarbone. 

“Take off your clothes,” you say breathlessly. He pulls you in for one last hungry kiss, and you moan against him before he breaks off, eyes hazy. The pillow falls off your lap as you quickly stand and shove off your boots and pants, while he rises to do the same. Impatient, you push him onto the bed before he can pull off his jacket. He bounces against the mattress, eyes wide with surprise and mischief and he scoots upwards. 

You climb up and straddle his thigh. He flexes his leg instinctively, obliging you as you grind down on him. So pent up from missing him for so long, you move erratically, pressing yourself against him, live sparks igniting in your core as you rub your sensitive bud against him. A twisting tension growing hotter in your belly, new and familiar all at once as you revel in the pleasure that only Silco can give you. 

“I missed you,” he says fervently. “I was a fool to ever let you go.” 

He props himself on his elbows to watch you, a wild, sharp grin on his face as he delights in being used by you. Watching you settle into a rhythm that has your slick leaking onto him as you cum, overtaken by a burning ecstasy that scorches you from the inside out. You slap your hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, conscious of Silco’s eyes darting across your face. 

As he moves to sit up, you glare at him. “Who said you could move?”

He freezes, then watches in awe as you rise with trembling legs. As you position your dripping cunt above his already-erect cock, you watch him with heavy-lidded eyes, savoring his desperate anticipation as he salivates at your teasing. 

“You’re—you’re not allowed to move—until I say so,” you say as firmly as you can in between panting breaths. Before your knees can give out, you sink onto him slowly, impaling yourself on his cock as your walls are pushed apart inch by inch. Sitting flush against him as he fills you completely, the missing piece filling the emptiness you’ve endured for so long. Trying not to whimper as you take a deep breath. 

“Fuck—you’re perfect,” he stammers out. “I’m yours—and yours alone—”

Silco lets out a groan, almost pained as his arms give out. He falls onto the bed, his hips rising involuntarily, driving himself deeper into you as you yelp. Forcefully, you grab his wrists and place his hands on your hips. 

“Whatever you do, don’t let go,” you warn him. 

“Never,” he vows. 

He gasps as you touch yourself, rubbing your bud in gentle circles that have your walls fluttering around him. His cock twitches inside you as you press harder, heat boiling in your core as a band strains taut in your belly, your thighs clenching tight. Spikes of flame searing through your body as his fingernails dig into your flesh, a deliciously sharp pain to accompany the beautiful vision underneath you: Silco helpless and completely at your mercy, ocean eyes blown out, sweat-slicked raven hair tumbling out of his bun in a dark, disheveled halo circling his reddening face. Your next orgasm crashes over you, hot waves lapping up from your toes to your core as you cry out again, still rubbing your bud to draw out your pleasure, your walls spasming around Silco’s cock. 

“Fuck!” he curses, delirious, bruising you as his grip tightens into a vice. “I love you so fucking much—”

He can’t help but thrust upwards into you, his hips jerking off the mattress as he cums, pumping hot and hard into your cunt. You whimper as you try to move in tandem with him, forcing yourself downwards to meet his momentum. The inferno roars up your spine, blazing too hot for you to stay upright. Overwhelmed, you flop onto him, bumping your chin on his shoulder. He grabs your ass, still thrusting upwards desperately, forcefully determined to fuck you, not stopping even when your slick and his cum leak out of you. It’s all you can do to bury your face in his neck, his heart pounding rapidly against yours as you scream, your every muscle fiber pulled taut as rapture washes through you in another homecoming. 

The waves finally settle as you slump into him, panting heavily. His own breaths mingle with yours, his chest heaving underneath you. One of his hands cups your ass affectionately while the other rises up your back. 

You gently take his earlobe between your teeth and nip him. He hisses as you nibble on the soft flesh, not letting go until he gasps. 

“You moved,” you whisper accusingly. 

“Forgive me,” he says weakly. 

Your breath ghosts against his face, his sweat briefly rising upwards before it trickles down his cheeks to drip onto the mattress. He’s warm and soft underneath you, his arms rising weakly to drape around you. A loose but loving embrace that you cherish as you kiss him. 

“...I forgive you,” you say tenderly. “For everything.” 

And from the depths of your soul, you mean it. Silco’s eyes blow wide open, no longer pussy-drunk as he stares at you in awe. His hand rises to cradle your cheek as he kisses you ardently. Devouring you, drinking you in as if you were a bottomless oasis, slaking his thirst after a long trek in the desert.  

It’s not long until you’re both fucking again, making up for lost time, the two streams of your bodies becoming one river. Over, and over, and over again, he makes good on his promise to never let go of you again. 

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If you liked this fic, please reblog and/or leave a comment! My inbox is also open to requests for both sketches and drabbles, or just to chat. Feel free to say hi :3c

[thegoodduckfan]

The scene of Fergus' death is honestly one of my favorite moments in the entire Life and Times saga.

This hits so hard for me. In all of the chapters so far Scrooge has been trying to make money to support his family in Dismal Downs/Glasgow and now after his long journey, he's home but it doesn't feel like home anymore, so he leaves. He wanted to take his father, who supported him every step of the way chose to stay behind.

Seeing him with Downy was very bittersweet, especially after chapter 8 when Scrooge discovering his mother died via S. Slick:

And Scrooge's visit to his mother's grave ealier in chapter 9

It just feels really bittersweet to see them sending their kids off to a new, brighter future and meeting with the Ghost of Sir Quackly who has been wonderful in chapter 1.

And it all culminates beautifully in chapter 11, right after Scrooge committed a hate crime and his sisters left him, he argues with himself on what he should do, but only his father can get him into the right track again.

In short Fergus McDuck is absolutely one of my favorite Disney characters, even with his short screen time and in my opinion Don Rosa's best original character.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 9 all chapters

Thank you @treedaddymcpuffpuff for curating this beautiful pic!!!! 🖤🖤🖤

TW: sexual harassment, (not john!)

-The next day, you find that diabolical pain in your shoulder is actually gone. You’ve lived with it for a good six months at least. He actually fixed you. It’s such a relief you could cry. You take his advice, and start doing stretches in the morning and after work, so as not to squander his gift. Though, the thought of receiving another massage from those oh-so-capable hands keeps you up at night sometimes.

You wonder if something will change between you at the shop after your little birthday adventure together, but Mr. Wick doesn’t press his advantage, or act overly familiar. In fact, it’s almost like it never happened at all, and you are torn between relief at maintaining the comfortable status quo, or disappointment because…well.

And just what would that look like? you chide yourself. He’s at least twenty years your elder, capable, interesting, handsome as the devil and rich to boot. Do you think he would just sweep you off your feet and let you live in that beautiful cabin of his up on the mountain with him, away from it all?

What would you have to offer a man like that?

The answer, at least in your estimation, is not much, so you concentrate on not pining for him like a lovesick little fool.

Besides, you tell yourself. You’re going to Italy soon. Maybe you’ll meet someone on your travels to take your mind off the Byronically-broody older man who occupies the corner in your shop, and an unfair amount of space in your thoughts.

It doesn’t seem likely, but a girl can hope.

-You start to have a problem at work with your new shift manager. He just can’t seem to fucking restrain himself from making lewd comments at you. He says them jokingly, but it’s not funny, at all. You made the mistake of laughing along awkwardly the first time because you were so shocked and didn’t know what to do. Now he thinks he has carte blanche with you, or worse, that you’re flirting back.

Unfortunately, he’s the owner’s ne’er do well son. It was totally a pity hire, even though you’ve been there longer and are way more qualified for his job. You guess your habit of disappearing for a month to travel probably knocked you out of the running.

Since you’ll be leaving soon for Italy anyway, you feel emboldened to sit down for a second across from Mister Wick when he comes in. He looks at you inquisitively, but not like he’s annoyed you’re intruding.

“I don’t think I’m coming back after my trip,” you feel obligated to tell him, for some reason.

“You can’t leave.” He says it so quickly, and maybe there’s even a note of panic in it. There’s something a little fragile about this imposing man. You feel like maybe only you see it, and it pulls at your heartstrings.

“I just don’t think I can do this anymore. My boss is a creep.” You used to look forward to your job, but now you’ve started dreading coming into work when he’s on the schedule with you. You’re filled with anxiety all the time now, and it’s cut into your sleep because you keep having nightmares about it too.

Mr. Wick’s eyes narrow, and suddenly you are reminded of a wolf. “Is he bothering you?”

You make a face. “He just says gross stuff all the time. It’s wearing. But he’s the owner’s son, so I’m kinda fucked.” The fact that you’re cursing in front of a customer shows how worn down you are.

You’d tried to talk to the owner, Mark, and had been completely blown off about it with the usual tired excuses. He doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s just joking.

Well, ha ha fucking ha.

It was a small indie shop, there was no HR. Your only real recourse, as far as you could tell, was to quit, but you wouldn’t have time to find another job before your trip, and you were counting on your next few paychecks to make ends meet.  

 “That shouldn’t matter,” Mr. Wick insists.

You sigh, because that is the world a Tall White Male occupies, versus your own situation.

The next day after the morning rush you are cleaning up your station when Kyle creeps up, making a gross comment about how he’s jealous of the way you’re “jacking off” the steamer wand as you wipe it down.

“Could you not say stuff like that to me?” you finally snap, exasperated.

“Come on, I was just joking,” he says with a leer, like it’s your fault that you’re uncomfortable.

“You will never speak to her like that again.”  

The voice from behind the two of you is cold as Siberian winter. Neither of you heard Mr. Wick approach. In fact, you didn’t even know he was in the shop. The look he is giving Kyle is pure murder. It’s not even directed at you, and you feel the chill to the marrow of your bones.

“S—sorry, sir. I was just—”

“No, you weren’t. Stop it.”

“Yeah. Ok, sorry.”

Kyle flees for the back, mumbling about having some paperwork to do. You breathe a sigh of relief, and there is some annoying moisture welling in the corner of your eyes.

“Thanks,” you sigh, and you are sorely tempted to leap over the counter and hug this man. He just nods sharply, and goes back to his table. Once again, you can’t help but feel like you have a guardian angel watching over you from the corner. If Kyle is smart enough to take the hint, it will all be fine.

But then you start to think about what just happened a little more.

You start to get an uneasy feeling, and you get Cassie to cover the register while you dare to seek out your dark savior outside as he’s making to leave in his Range Rover. “Mr. Wick?” you ask in hushed tones as he opens his door.

He cants his head in answer, turning to you.

“Please, don’t…light his car on fire or anything?”

He steps in close enough to you that you feel you are engulfed amidst the breadth of his chest and his downturned head. You can smell the warm, masculine spice of his cologne, and maybe you are a little idiot, knowing what you’re pretty sure you know about this man…but it takes every iota of your self-control not to lean into him.  

“I don’t know what you mean?” he says pointedly in a low voice.

“Just…” You make a fist of all the words you want to say, but can’t. You don’t know where you get the cheek to pound his chest with it in your frustration, even if very lightly. It’s like a stone wall beneath your hand, and for some reason that ties something low in your abdomen up in knots.

Maybe you wouldn’t be mad if Kyle lost his dick in an unfortunate petting zoo accident, but...you don’t want him dead. You feel a responsibility in this matter you didn’t with the predators in the van. “Please?”

He engulfs your small hand with his, holding it over his heart.

“I'm just going to go talk to the owner,” he assures you.

“That’s Kyle’s dad,” you inform him, again.

“I’m aware. I’ve dealt with situations like this before.” He smirks a little, and you don’t understand the joke. “If you don't push back on assholes like that, they think they run the world.” 

Wasn’t that the truth.

“Ok.” Then you realize, he might mean he’s going now. “Wait, it's his day off. He hates being disturbed at home.” 

The owner is kind of a big deal in your small town. His own father has been a local business owner and the mayor off and on for a long as you can remember. Their family is connected. You guess that’s why Kyle feels so free to act the way he does.

Must be nice.  

“That's too bad,” says John with a lift of eyebrow like he absolutely doesn't give a shit.

“Wait…how do you know where he lives?”

This seems to amuse him. “This isn't exactly a big place. And...that's kind of what I do. Or used to, anyway.” 

It's the most he's outright told you about his past. It gives you a little chill, and you wonder how much longer you’ll let yourself play dumb. He’s the kind of man who isn’t afraid to take the law into his own hands. He’s missing a finger, and though they’re long healed, you’ve noticed the faint scars on his gorgeous face. He’s gruff and forbidding with a body that could be chiseled from some kind of physicalwork, and eyes that are sharp as a falcon’s, and oh god you hope he doesn’t do anything drastic to persuade Mark to see things his way.

For you, a little voice in the back of your head reminds you. You are half afraid of what’s to come, and half…in love, maybe, if you’re being honest with yourself.   

“I'm so getting fired,” you sing-song under your breath.

“Then…you’ll just have to come work for me.” 

There is a breathtaking sparkle in his dark eyes he says this. It sends a delicious thrill shooting through you, and in a ditch effort to hide how thirsty you are for this man you narrow your eyes at him.

“There better not be an ulterior motive to this caper,” you grouse with no real venom. Then, curiosity gets the better of you. “What would I even do?” 

“I’ve been thinking…I might need a governess for Dog. All he does is eat and lay around all day. He needs some culture.”

You roll your eyes at this. 

“Oh, and pray what does the position of Governess to Master Dog pull?” you play along.  

“What sounds fair? 50 thousand per annum?”

If you were really committed to the bit, you would have swooned into his arms. It was all too tempting. The thought of going to Mr. Wick's beautiful home to play with Dog, as a job that paid a livable wage, sounds like a dream. With the added bonus of...him, at home, all to yourself. Just the thought makes a red-hot flush bloom from your neck to your cheeks.

John smirks down at you, but is kind enough not to call you out on it.

You can’t help but notice he is still holding your hand.  

It dawns on you that this is the first time he's ever been this playful with you. Does the thought of going into a confrontation excite him? It probably does, you realize. If he’d done the kind of work you expect he might have…life in Clear Forks must seem pretty boring, after a while.

You probably seem pretty boring too.

“Very funny, Mr. Wick. And a little mean, dangling that in front of me.”

“Who's being funny?”

But he says it with such a devilish smile, and you just can’t chance taking him seriously. It’s too…much.

You try to disguise your shuddering sigh, and fail, badly. You try to take back your hand, but he holds on, and you are unable to budge him. You can feel his heart beating against your fist. Steady, but fast.

He’s enjoying this as much as you are.

 “I'm probably not supposed to ask you this, but...were you a spy?”

This question sobers him a little, and he levels you with that look. You know it’s meant to be stern, but god. All it does is make you ache.

“You'd better get back inside, Miss y/n. But if fuckhead bothers you again, you tell me. Immediately.”

He says the words, but it still takes him a few seconds more to release you, those dark eyes boring down into yours.

“Thank you, Mr. Wick.”

He nods before getting in his Rover.

You’re sorrier than usual to see him go.

As the day goes on and you remain unmolested, most of the tension in your shoulders lifts, and you almost feel normal again. You believe that everything will be fine, one way or another.

Of course, later, Fuckhead makes a point to tell you, as you're leaving at the end of your shift, that he's not scared of your old man. 

Easy to say, once Mr. Wick is far out of ear shot. 

However, in a week's time, Kyle is a no show. Suddenly he's decided to leave town—on a day he was supposed to open the shop, leaving his dad high and dry. Mark is livid and swears Kyle is disowned, and you get your little life back at the Clear Forks Coffee Co.