#this has been running around my head since January

[bittersweetresilience]

writing year in review

i like those artist summaries my friends are doing so i'm making my own. one excerpt from each month of the year. many words incoming.

JANUARY

metempsychosis (Miraculous Ladybug, 4,935 words)

“Adrien?” Félix asks. He can feel his arms shaking as he pushes himself up, his cousin’s face wide and startled beneath him. He’s okay. Félix saved him. There’s something wet weeping from under the silver platter, watermelon juice on his sleeves. The room smells like iron. Adrien’s breathing bleeds. When he starts to choke Félix pulls the platter away and reveals the seeds stuck to his clothes, the knife stuck between the seeds.

FEBRUARY

never been in love (Miraculous Ladybug, 1,559 words)

Maybe Félix had felt something like that before. It’s since been bled out of his memory. To his father, Félix was a church, an idea, a trophy; there was no room for yearning. He wears his crown of thorns on his finger now, but even so he is empty.

MARCH

silent things (Miraculous Ladybug, 1,379 words)

“Félix!” Adrien shouts. The slam of his hands against the wood is a heartbeat. “Come on! Open the door, Félix!” But Félix wakes up from the dream.

APRIL

watership down (Miraculous Ladybug, 10,965 words)

She’d dropped the memory somewhere between the hospital and the jeweler’s curb, between her fingers clenched white around the driver’s wheel and the set of Colt’s scowl as he pushed into the doors. But what’s one more funeral pyre? What’s one more cross to burn?

MAY

i want to hold the hand inside you (Miraculous Ladybug, 962 words)

Félix opens his mouth, breathes in thickly. Cold and hot, stage lights, his pulse sharp in his throat with sense-memory. It’s not his father. It’s still Félix. The tempered sensation of being held on a leash. It’s not real. Marinette hasn’t done anything.

JUNE

Meditations (Miraculous Ladybug, 800 words)

London, England, 2013. Shale damp firmament or something. You ran into the nesting grounds and startled the mute swans with your sneeze. Mute is in their name but they are not mute, really. Cygnus olor is the Latin. Other Latin words: exitus acta probat, cogito ergo sum, felix. Names don’t seem very accurate because mine is supposed to mean happy.

JULY

浮生若梦 (Honkai: Star Rail, 3,065 words)

Even the cycranes are mute in their nests, wings folded over themselves like mourning clothes. Blade walks along the vertebrae of the streets, and no one approaches him. Perhaps he is invisible. Perhaps he has lost the last of what made him human. People whisper amongst themselves, but Blade doesn’t listen. They wouldn’t know as well as him.

AUGUST

大鱼 (Honkai: Star Rail, 11,572 words)

When Jing Yuan finds himself here, he is always here as a witness. He cannot run; he cannot move; he cannot avert his view. This time, though, a fervency unravels in him, a lurch of desperate wanting. Mingled breath, a sanguinary abyss, and the ground tilts, sending him falling toward the eye of everything. “Jing Yuan,” Baiheng shouts, but it is Jingliu, but it is a dragon, but it is an exhale in his ear, seven centuries in the future, the scattering of stars like a Stellaron bursting under his skin. It is Blade, and it is Yingxing, and he is the one who is burning, and Jing Yuan is clawing at his shoulders, untangling at the seams.

SEPTEMBER

起风了 (Honkai: Star Rail, 7,164 words)

His hands land on Blade’s chest, and he finds himself craning his head up to regain his bearings, to reach—warm skin and scars and the tongue that sweeps into his open mouth, and Jing Yuan pushes up onto his tiptoes, just a bit, forgetting everything. Blade releases Jing Yuan as soon as he’d taken hold of him, so that he lands gently back on his feet. Jing Yuan blinks at him, his lips still parted, startled out of all his feelings. “Sit on the bed and don’t move,” Blade tells him, and then leaves.

OCTOBER

age has never made me wise (Honkai: Star Rail, 8,185 words)

He allows himself to touch Jing Yuan’s face, finally. Wipes the towel very softly over the drying tracks, washing away the tears and the blood and the grime as if they had never been there, as if it had never happened. But he can’t wash away the mark that sits starkly on Jing Yuan’s cheek, nor the shape of Blade’s fingers on the hollow of his neck— —you’re lying, you’re lying— —and Blade pulls his hand away abruptly.

NOVEMBER

tell me we'll never get used to it (Honkai: Star Rail, 2,101 words)

Wants. The word is a strange sort of notion. After all this time, Blade is still getting used to being allowed to want things. Things of his own, things that he can touch and take and keep. Things that aren’t broken bones or drying blood under his fingertips.

DECEMBER

mad wandering man (Honkai: Star Rail, 6,072 words)

Jing Yuan doesn’t have to think about this yet, not when the ending is still approaching. It isn’t something real, isn’t something that will last, isn’t anything more than an idle dream. And he already knows, as does the rest of the Quintet, that dreams are dead things walking.

THAT'S THE END OF THIS VERY LONG POST... will you join me @coffeebanana @ninadove @isabugs @mostmagical @asukiess...

...line break because too many spouses @hartwign @purplecatghostposts @teafig...

[neodafloof555]

Six Lives

welcome to the life to the historecap

show how we survived how we got to be last

everybody tries but there is only 6 lives

yes six runs of the game as you watch the story

TNT and flames it's all bloody gory

no play is the same cause there only is 6 lives

until the next life

[our-lady-of-mcr]

everytime i think im done ranting i remember something else LMFAO this one is extra long i hit tag limit god mf damn

[arsenal-womens-1]

What if I say no and I come with you

Request

“It’s one thing to be in love, but it’s something else entirely to be willing to sacrifice everything for it.” - Unknown

December 10th: We had just got back on the bus; we had just played Chelsea and won 4-1. The main topic throughout the bus was the transfer window. You and Jen were sitting next to each other. On the opposite side, Beth and Viv sat. You and Beth were nearest to the window with your partners next to you. Beth and Jen were talking as you and Viv just sat and listened. The topic of transfers comes up. Everyone knows that you and Jen’s contracts run out in January.

“Are you going to sign new contracts this season?” You and Jen had put a lot of thought into it. Jen had already started to get offers, a lot from the NWSL. You had received some offers as well, so you had decided that Jen was going to go to the NWSL and you somewhere in Europe. You had done this countless times, but something about this didn’t feel the same. Jen glances over at you.

“We talked, and we decided if things don’t change with the offers, I’m going to go to the NWSL and Y/N somewhere in Europe.”

You just hum. “What about you, Viv?” It was no secret in the team that Viv was unhappy. The way she was being treated was wrong, but there’s nothing anyone can do about it.

“I haven’t decided anything yet, but if I don’t, my contract runs out in July, so I guess I’ll just see what happens.” After that, the other two go back to talking.

January 2nd: Kim Little has invited the whole team around for a team bonding session. Training didn’t start for another few days, but as the transfer season is now open, this is probably the last time that this team will play together. We needed to be at her house at 5 p.m., and it’s currently 4:56. You two just pulled into her street. A few cars you recognize. Jen pulls into an open spot, turns off the car, and gets out. She always insists on opening the door for you. You walk up to the house, knocking on the door. You wait for someone to answer. Kim finally opens it.

“Hey, come in. A few of the girls are already here.” Walking into the main room, more than half of the team is there. You and Jen separate and go talk to different people. You walk over to Frida, Lia, Amanda, Stina, Katie, and Caitlin.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You stand next to Lia. “Hey.” You had not seen each other since the 21st, as everyone left for where they were spending Christmas on the 22nd.

“How was Christmas?” Everyone talks about what they did and random stuff. Once again, the transfer topic comes up.

“Y/N, have you and Jen chosen what teams you’re going to?”

You had thought about it for the last month but had yet to pick one. “Jen has; I haven’t yet, though.”

January 19th: You had just finished training. You had been thinking about it and didn’t know who to talk to, so when you bump into Kelly Smith, it feels like a blessing.

“Hey, Kelly, can I ask you something?”

She had always said that if any of you needed help, you could ask her, and now you need that help.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

You look around to make sure that nobody is near. “How did you know you were making the right choice when you retired?”

She takes a moment to think. “I knew I was making the right decision when I looked at all the things I had achieved, and when I thought about it, I felt at peace that I had done everything I could and won everything I could. I knew I was doing it for the right reasons.”

Hearing her say that really helped. Realistically, there was nothing else you could win—you won the Euros with England, came second in the World Cup, had Olympic medals, and played for Barca. You had done it all. You nod your head.

“Thank you for saying that.”

You go to the changing room and see everyone. You get changed.

January 30th: We are standing in our back garden. It was Jen’s goodbye party. A few people were talking, a few eating, and a lot playing football. You and Jen are standing on the deck at the top of the garden. Her arms are wrapped around your back as your head is on her chest.

“Jen.”

She hums to show that she’s listening.

“What if I say no to all the teams and come with you? I don’t want to be separated anymore. I’m happy with everything I’ve achieved; there’s nothing left to do.”

She pulls back a little to look at you, her eyes searching yours for any sign that you’re lying.

“Are you serious?”

You nod your head as your voice seems to have disappeared.

Jen’s expression softens as she looks you in the eye. “Are you sure? There’s a lot to consider—what if you regret it? What if you miss out on opportunities that could have come your way?”

You squeeze her hands gently. “I know there are risks. But I think the chance to be together and not worry about when the next time we get to see each other is worth it. I want to wake up with you next to me. I’ve done everything I have ever wanted for my career; there’s nothing left to accomplish.”

She holds you in a tight hug. “If this is what you truly want, then come with me.”

[mavrintarou]

[Daddies in December] Hatake Kakashi

Happy New Year! I hope you had a fantastic holiday. I know it's technically January now but I have a few drafts still and I think I can FINALLY get them out. This is long, I just couldn't stop.

Warning: Angst, reconnection, and smut

.

“I hope you all have a wonderful holiday, thank you for taking my class. If you’re in my next class, see you next year.” Kakashi ended his last class for the semester, dismissing his students.

One by one, each of them thanked and complimented him on his class, giving him great feedback.

At last, the door to his class closed and he took a deep breath.

Reaching for his phone in his pocket, he has a few unread messages but none from Y/n.

Ever since she dropped the bomb on him about her pregnancy exactly a week ago, neither has spoken to the other.

Kakashi didn’t exactly take the news well, blurting something he shouldn’t have said and every time he thought about it, he wanted to beat himself up.

“It’s not mine.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. It couldn’t be Kakashi. One, he always wore a condom. Two, he was nearly forty-three and his doctor told him he had low sperm count!

He was not blind to the pain written on her face.

Their last encounter did not end very well.

He used this week as an excuse to get through the semester for his students; now, he must face the consequences.

Day and night, 24/7, Y/n was all he could think about.

He’ll admit that he let his anger get the best of him. He let his past trauma control and dictate his actions towards Y/n, who didn’t deserve any of it.

Kakashi could come up with a million excuses and reasons how it cannot be his child, for one, after his injury during a mission, he was told having any children was no longer an option.

But he couldn’t excuse the fact that she was a virgin when he bedded her and Y/n wasn’t one to have multiple men even if they were officially in a relationship. Their fling was exclusive for the most part. Even if Kakashi had used condoms every time they had sex and had been told he couldn’t have children… there was always a possibility…

He groaned, suddenly remembering a time when they had both just come. Still in a daze of euphoria, he slipped off the filled condom. Only with Y/n, does he ever ejaculate so much. His cock was still erect, oozing with leftover cum.

Kakashi’s eyes glaze over her wet pussy that coated with her wetness.

He had only had raw sex once in his entire life when he was still young and that was the first and the last time he had done so…

But he was so tempted just to be swallowed by Y/n’s hot and tight pussy.

“Just once,” he murmured before slipping his cock, raw, inside of her. Y/n gasped at the same time he groaned, feeling the same bliss of skin on skin. “Just want to be cock-warmed by your pussy…”

Even if he had just allowed her pussy to wrap around his raw cock for a few minutes, that could have resulted in this unplanned pregnancy.

Y/n had no reason to lie to him, she wasn’t one to manipulate and trap him with a child.

He’d known her since she was twelve, he was best friends with her brother who was in the same military unit as him. Who died saving him.  

.

Y/n knew she should have just left the fallen pen on the ground but her determined self wanted to be independent and pick it up.

Now, she was stuck in a crouching position, able to stand back up after successfully grabbing the pen.

Being almost eight months pregnant with twins, with only a solid four weeks left, she was large. Very large.

She gripped the edge of the table, taking deep breaths to build up the strength to stand without peeing in her underwear.

She needed help.

Her assistant Viv was out running a delivery and wouldn’t return for another ten minutes at the earliest. 

“Are you okay?”

Y/n’s head snapped up, eyes meeting the father of her unborn babies. When had he entered her shop? How did she miss the bell ringing at the door? She blinked before looking away embarrassed.

“Why are you down there?” He looked over, frowning.

Taking a deep breath and setting her pride aside, “Kakashi,” she called his name sharply.

“Yes?”

She looked up at him sternly, “I need your help.”

His eyes widen in a flash of panic. “What’s wrong?”

Placing both her hands on the table, she reached out to him, “I can’t get back up, help me.”

Quickly walking around the table, he looked at her, seeing she was crouching down, “are you hurt?”

Y/n shook her head, “no, I just – I just can’t get back up, my belly is too big. Just support me and help me stand.”

Going behind her, Kakashi took her outreached hand and wrapped the other gently below her bulging belly, “slowly…” he cooed lifting her until she could straighten up. As soon as she was back on her feet again she tugged her hand away, walking away from him.

She cleared her throat, wiping her hand on her overalls. “Thank you. What are you doing here?”

Kakashi’s eyes fell on her belly, the last time he saw her was two months ago. “I…” he inhales, “I want to talk.” He noticed her body switching to defense mode, and he took a careful step towards her. “Just talk, that’s all.”

“I’m not sure there is anything to discuss, nothing needs further clarification.” Her tone struggled to stay in control. “You made it clear where you stand.”

Kakashi expected her hostile attitude and gave her a small smile, “you don’t owe me any of your time but I ask kindly, please, can we talk about the baby?”

“No.”

He exhaled softly, she was going to make this difficult for him. “Okay,” he continued to smile at her, “I’ll come back tomorrow and try again.”

She glared at him, and he knew it was meant to make him fear her, but he found her adorable. “My answer will still be no.”

“Then I’ll come back the next day.”

.

The next day, Kakashi returned, with a basket of fruits. The fruits Y/n likes.

“Can we talk?”

“No.”

“Okay, I’ll come back tomorrow.”

.

Every day Kakashi returned with a gift and would leave with a sigh and his usual phrase as soon as Y/n turned him down, “okay, I’ll come back tomorrow.”

He stopped at the door and turned around, “please at least tell me what you would like for me to bring tomorrow. I’m running out of ideas.”

Before Y/n could tell him anything, Viv answered on her behalf, “Takoyaki please!”

Y/n turned her head, giving her a silent serious look.

“Takoyaki tomorrow then,” he waved before leaving.

“Seriously?” Viv groaned, “the man is doing all that to just talk to you. Can you imagine what he would do when you give in?”

Instead of answering her, Y/n turned her heels and headed to the cooler. Viv followed behind her, carrying the bag of chips and snacks. “I have seriously gained weight from all the gifts he has brought in.”

“Then stop eating it,” Y/n answered rather sharply.

“Well, you won’t eat it, so someone has to?”

Y/n ignored her, grabbing a few bundles of bouquets before heading back to the front of the shop.

“How do you guys know each other?”

Sighing, Y/n answered, “I’ve known him since I was twelve, my brother met him in school and since then he’s been pretty much part of the family.” She grabbed a white rose, one of her favorites. “They both enlisted into the military together and were deployed together.” Her breath hitched, “but Kakashi was the only one who returned home alive.”

Viv leaned over to hug her. She knew about her brother’s death and how it had affected her.

Y/n has barely spoken about Kakashi but it did not take much for Viv to put two and two together to confirm, she asked, “he’s the father of your babies?”

It was a long pause before Y/n answered quietly, “yes.”

“It seems like to me, he wants to be part of your life?”

For a second, Y/n zoned out. “He didn’t want us at first.”

“Key word, at first.” Viv clarified, leaning onto the table. “Not trying to create excuses for him but just stating that people can change overnight. He didn’t want you guys at first but what if he wants you guys now?” She stares silently at Y/n before walking away, “people can change and it could start with their actions.”

.

When Kakashi arrives the next day with two orders of Takoyakis, he glances around the shop looking for Y/n.

Viv greets him and answers his silent question, “she’s resting in the office, she kind of had a rough morning.”

“Ah,” Kakashi nodded, passing the bag of Takoyakis to her. “Maybe this might lighten her mood?”

Viv motioned for him to go on ahead to the back room, “it’s the first door to the left.”

Kakashi gently knocked on the door slightly closed door before slowly opening it. He catches sight of Y/n, her back facing towards him. “Hey…” He froze, hearing a sharp gasp.

Y/n moans, a hand clutching her belly.

A loud pop echoes the room followed by the sound of gushing fluid.

“Ah!”

Kakashi reaches Y/n before she can stumble forward. His eyes widen when he sees the floor wet. “Is that…”

“My water… my water just broke…” She gasps, her hand grips tightly around Kakashi’s arms as her contractions begin.

“What’s going on!” Viv burst through the door and gulped, “are the twins coming?”

“Twins?” Kakashi shouted, he looked at Y/n with wide eyes, “you’re expecting twins?”

.

Kakashi has been watching the chests of the two tiny humans rise and fall in one incubator. He had only discovered a few hours ago that all this time, Y/n was carrying twins.

He is now the father of not one, but two babies. A boy and a girl.

They were early by three weeks, his son is slightly smaller than his sister and has been crying from the separation of his sister after the cesarian surgery that the nurse has kept them together.

Y/n was recovering, and sleeping with the help of some medications and he left her alone to go visit the nursery.

The door to the nursery opened and the nurse peeked her head out, “would you like to come hold them?”

Dressed in a gown, Kakashi’s hands trembled as he neared his babies. They were so small.

“Would you like to hold one at a time or both of them?”

“Both,” Kakashi answered in a heartbeat.

He took a seat in the glider and the nurse carefully handled one baby at a time, setting one in each arm. He can feel his throat tightening at the immense emotions swelling within him.

Their hats were removed and after a wash and dry, Kakashi could see their physical traits.

Though it was faint, their hair was visibly silver just like their father's with Y/n’s eye color.

During the surgery, Kakashi kept his gaze and attention on Y/n, he had never felt so useless, unable to take away any of the pain she was feeling.

As soon as the surgery room echoed with the first cry, a tear slid from the corner of Y/n’s eyes. Kakashi reached to wipe it away, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

A second cry echoes the room along with the first baby and together, Kakashi and Y/n sighed in relief.

“Here are your babies!” the nurse carried them over, bringing them close.

Kakashi has never been a sentimental one but before he knew it, his cheeks were wet. Amidst the bustling room, his focus narrowed to the sight of the two infants’ cheeks nestled against the individual who had been nurturing them for the past few months.

He recalled reaching for his phone and capturing an image to cherish the moment.

Once they settled into a private room, the babies were brought back where Y/n got to hold the both of them for the first time. The nurse spent the next hour informing Y/n and Kakashi on how to care for the babies.

“Do you want to try and nurse them?” the nurse asked.

Y/n nodded, her gaze fixed on the two babies in her arms with affectionate eyes.

Kakashi was on the verge of exiting the room to give them some privacy when Y/n remarked, “it’s all right; you can stay.”

He stayed seated at the end of the bed, watching as the nurse helped Y/n untie her gown. He felt his cheeks flush when her breasts were exposed. Kakashi couldn’t help but notice how full and engorged they looked.

“Hey daddy, why don’t you come closer, you could learn a thing or two.” The nurse urges, waving him over.

Kakashi walked around the bed and sat beside Y/n. He tried to keep his heart rate down as he watched his son immediately suckle cutely the moment he tasted the liquid gold. He chuckles, his finger rubbing his chubby cheek.

His daughter remained snoozing. Kakashi reached to nudge her cheek gently, “hey you.” The tiny baby stirred and yawned adorably before whimpering.

Y/n giggled and brought her over to her other breast, urging and cooing the baby to suckle.

As soon as their feeding was over, Y/n was ordered to rest and the babies were brought back to the nursery. Not wanting to disturb Y/n, Kakashi made his way down to the nursery.

Cradling both infants in his arms felt surreal; he had only recently come to terms with the idea of expecting one baby, and now there were two. During the months when he and Y/n were apart, he discreetly acquired various items. However, he hadn’t presented them to Y/n, uncertain of her willingness to accept them.

An unsettling sense persisted with him, urging him to engage in a conversation with Y/n.

Kakashi truly wants to make it work between him and Y/n, not just for the sake of his babies now but because he really cares for her.

.

Y/n hadn’t voiced it yet, but she was thankful for Kakashi’s presence. Even if they are only working together for the sake of their babies.

She thought she would have to go through this all alone, and though she spent most of her pregnancy alone, she didn’t know what happened for Kakashi to change his mind at the last minute.

Whatever the reason was, she wasn’t going to question it because as much as she did not want to admit it, she needed Kakashi.

When she discovered she was expecting twins, she panicked. She had seen a single mother raise one kid and it already made her nervous but just her luck, she was going to be a single mother and raising two.

Y/n didn’t take the initiative to inform Kakashi about expecting twins, especially considering his initial reluctance towards taking responsibility. When the twins were finally born, she anticipated him making a hasty exit.

Upon waking from each hospital nap, her first thought was a concern about being alone in the room, wondering if he had discreetly left with no intention of returning.

It was as though he could sense it; Kakashi would enter her room and greet her with a smile as she awoke. Every time, he would inquire, “do you want to see the babies?”

He stayed with her for the four days of recovery and insisted on taking them home when they were finally released from the hospital.

Y/n was in no position to decline his offer, accepting it with a soft, “yes, please.” The car ride of them four was quiet. The babies slept through, tucked cozily in their car seats.

She didn’t want to assume or expect, she would take whatever Kakashi had to offer.

“Thank you for the ride,” she said quietly as soon as he parked in front of her apartment. She unbuckled her seat belt and froze when he turned off the engine to his car, unbuckling his seat belt as well. “you’re coming… inside?”

“Of course,” he said with a matter-of-fact tone, “you’re not supposed to be carrying anything more than a few pounds, remember?”

Kakashi carried both babies into the apartment, setting them down on the couch before returning to his car to gather the rest of the other items.

While it was just the three of them, Y/n cooed at her two sleeping babies. “Welcome home.”

.

“Kakashi,” Y/n called his name quietly, he turned his head, looking away from his daughter that’s nestled in the crook of his arm. “I appreciate you being here with us.” She inhaled softly, “but you are not obligated in any way to be here.”

It has been three days, three days of Kakashi giving them his undivided attention. He had told her that he would stay a few nights, only leaving home to shower and grab some items before returning.

Due to her cesarean surgery, she had restricted movements, with swift sitting and standing being prohibited. All remaining activities were geared towards minimizing the risk of reopening her wound.

She wouldn’t have been able to relax and stay off her feet if it wasn’t for the help of Kakashi. He had made their meals, handled the babies, and assisted Y/n with tending to her after-birth wound.

“I don’t want…” her voice croaked, “I don’t want you to feel obligated to be here, because you and I both know – “

“I want to be here. I want to be here because I am choosing to be here, not because I’m obligated,” Kakashi clarified softly. He adjusts his daughter in his arms, “I know there is nothing I can do to take back how I had initially reacted to the pregnancy. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. The only thing I can offer you now are my actions, maybe my words.” He scoots closer until he is sitting beside Y/n who is nursing their son. “I want to be with you and the babies. Through it all. I’m not going anywhere and if I am, it is wherever you three are.”

Y/n stares into Kakashi’s eyes, searching, searching for something she knew was not there. “So,” she whispers, “you want to be with us as their father?”

“Yes.” He answered without a second thought. “I want to do the honorable thing and marry you if you allow.”

“For the sake of the babies?”

Kakashi stammered for a second, “well, that too but I want to be a husband to you.”

“Do you… can you love me?”

Silence sat heavy between them before he answered, “I can learn to love you.” He wasn’t sure if the tears that filled her eyes were tears of joy or pain. They pooled at her lower eyelid, refusing to fall down her cheeks. “I – I don’t know how to love, but I can learn. If you can give me a leeway, I’ll learn to love you.”

Y/n turned away so he wouldn’t see her tears fall as she quickly wiped them with her sleeve. “Okay. I’m okay with that.”

.

Nine months have passed and within that time frame, Kakashi proposed in the presence of their two-month-old babies and moved into their place, taking over the spare room beside Y/n.

They formalized their marriage in the presence of an intimate gathering. Despite being married, they maintained separate sleeping quarters. Their connection remains amicable, marked by occasional displays of affection centered around the babies. Their lives persist with the primary emphasis and priority placed on their little ones.

Y/n continued her life running her flower shop and Kakashi resumed teaching at the university.

With two babies, time went by quicker than they anticipated and before they knew it, winter had arrived and Y/n’s business slowed while Kakashi was on winter break.

It was the night of New Year's Eve, the babies had gone to bed at their usual time leaving Kakashi and Y/n alone. Though they spent many nights alone together, it was exceptionally different, considering that their first night together had happened the same day two years ago.

“Did… you want to watch the ball drop with me?” Kakashi asked when Y/n had finished preparing her nightly tea.

Caught off guard Y/n froze for a split second before answering, “sure, if you don’t mind.”

“Never, never with you.”

Her heart fluttered and she turned away to hide her red cheeks. “Wou – would you like a cup of tea too?”

“Please,” he said softly.

When Y/n returned Kakashi had lit a few candles and had two throw blankets out but he was nowhere in the room. At that moment, he exits the baby's room, returning.

“Emi began fussing but she went right back to sleep with the pacifier.” He reached for the cup of tea.

Y/n stepped forward to hand him the cup when she stumbled, the hot tea spilled onto his hand.

“Oh my God!” she shouted, setting the cup on the coffee table before checking his hand. She immediately tugged her shirt, gently drying his hand to inspect the burn. It was red. “Let me go get some toothpaste!”

She returned with some gauze and the tube of toothpaste and quickly applied it all over his hand before bandaging it up. “I’m so sorry…”

“It’s okay,” he murmured.

Y/n looked up at him with worried eyes, not noticing that he had been quiet and allowing her to tend to his wound. He was happy to have this interaction with her.

Kakashi reached up to brush her hair behind her ear. “Y/n.”

Y/n could melt that instant hearing him call her name, she always loved how he said her name. “Yes?”

“I’m tired of living this way,” his eyes flashed at his choice of words and he quickly corrected himself, “I mean in a way of I am tired of living like we’re strangers but parents to our children.” His eyes search hers, to make sure she didn’t misunderstand his initial words. “I want to be more than a husband to you, I want to be your rock, the person you can rely on.” Kakashi inhales sharply before speaking the next few words. “I want to be someone you love.”

“I do love you, Kakashi,” Y/n replied, “I have loved you for many years since I was probably a teenager.” She rubbed her thumb over his bandaged hand. “You were my first crush and first love. I still love you.” She looked down at his hand, “but you always just saw me as Brian’s little sister.”

With his other hand, Kakashi cupped her face, guiding her to look at him. “It is true, I did see you as Brian’s little cute sister who was so shy when I was around, but when I returned from my first deployment and you were nineteen… a grown woman… believe me when I tell you that you were the most beautiful woman in my life since that day.” He closed his eyes and released a deep breath, “then Brian and I were deployed again and that day – “ he choked on his words. “Days before that day, he had said to me – as if he knew his days were counting down, he said to me ‘I know you have something going for Y/n, I see the way you stare at her. I’ve noticed it. If anything ever happens to me, take care of my sister for me, will ‘ya? You’re the only man I trust with her.’” His thumb reached up to swipe the tear that slipped from her eyes. “Y/n, I didn’t exactly grow up with love or how to love? I learned how to love and be loved the hard way or no way at all. Please – give me grace… teach me how to love, teach me how to be loved, and teach me how to be in love with you because I don’t want it with anyone else.” He pressed his lips against hers. “I just want you love and I want to love you. Teach me how to love you so that you’ll love me back.”

Y/n threw herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. “I love you, Kakashi. I love you and I am in love with you.” She lifts herself to look down at him with a bright smile. “I know you already love me, you show it to me in different ways but I know you love me and our babies.”

“Y/n,” he calls her name huskily.

“Hmm?”

“Please, kiss me…”

Y/n giggles and fulfills his request. Immediately everything around them began to escalate. Kakashi’s hands slipped beneath her shirt, rubbing her back. His fingers fumble with the back of her bra strap. “Kakashi…”

“Sorry, I just… I just miss touching you…”

“No – no please… please touch me. I need you.”

Kakashi groaned, “I need you badly too…”

“But before we have sex – can we share rooms? I… will it be too soon to move into one?” Y/n asked with a tint of pink on her cheeks.

Kakashi smiled, “you have no idea how long I have been dying to share a room with you. I missed you so much.”

“I just thought you didn’t want to sleep with me.”

He shook his head, “no – I wanted to after we got married but I didn’t exactly know how to approach you with that question. I didn’t know if… you wanted your own space still.”

Y/n pecked his lips, “move in, I want you to make love to me every night.”

“You might regret that…”

.

The bed softly creaked against the floor, thrashing against the wall with each slow thrust of Kakashi.

He rolled his hips, grunting each time his cock stroked entirely into her sweet pussy.

“I love you… I have loved you for so long…” His fingers tightened around hers as he pinned them above her head. “I don’t want to waste a second without you anymore…”

“Me too – me too Ka – ashi…” Y/n moaned and gasped, “I’m so close, please –“

Kakashi cut her words with a kiss, his tongue thrusting past her lips to dance with hers. He was close too, it had been too long and he wasn’t going to last much longer.

With deeper rolls of his hips, Kakshi groaned against her mouth as he cums into the condom. He continued to slowly thrust, feeling Y/n’s walls clench and tightly tremble around his cock.

As they came down from their high, Kakashi gazed lovingly down at her. “I might be late but… Happy New Year, I cannot wait to start this year with you and our babies.” Tenderly, he takes her hand, adorned with the wedding ring, and gently kisses it. “I love you, wifey.”

. . .

E/n: Kakashi is so #hearteyes

>>>@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

[intrepidacious]

❤️ a good time!

tat!bucky’s favorite (or least favorite) thing about twelve

… why not both?

cause and effect

chapter summary: How Bucky fell in love with Twelve: Slowly, and then all at once.

pairing: bucky barnes x time witch!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: light angst and negative self talk (this is bucky y'all); some light pining 🤭please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: i've literally had this one in my drafts for about two years and i hadn't actually planned on posting it for a while yet but i did promise distractions. and i missed him. i always do.

this is part of the time after time universe but can be read as a teaser and/or a standalone 💚

Bucky’s relationship with time has been fractured ever since a cold day in January that stole away the life he was headed towards and turned him into the monster underneath a child’s bed.

It’s hard to feel good about the concept of time travel once a lot of your own time has been taken away from you. Even now, there’s only so many things in his life he has control over; like the fact that he’s actively choosing to go back to therapy now, or that he’s able to keep a pet for the first time since he was thirteen years old. Stupid little things, like what kind of food he wants for lunch or whether he should take the stairs or the elevator.

Every single one of these things he’s fought for tooth and nail, clawing his way out of the past and carving out his own space in reality again, struggling, trying, hanging on like he wasn’t able to all those decades ago.

He’s probably still failing.

Some days, clinging to the present is tense and brings him nothing but grief. Sometimes, it feels like he’s going to have to mourn the past forever, whatever might have been; and maybe that’s his sentence.

He wouldn’t have wished it on anyone. He deserves worse.

And then there’s you.

Flickering in and out of time, constantly moving, changing in the time it takes him to blink.

It’s infuriating to him, the way you get to use your powers. The way you don’t need to think about consequences, because they don’t have to be permanent, don’t have to be something you need to live with for the rest of your life. To you, time has always been something that can be changed with a single snap of your fingers. Whatever you do can just as easily be undone.

Once you decide you’ve seen enough, you can just take the scene from the top.

And you’re so stubborn.

You’ve already seen how this goes on if you let it, and so you’re always right, end of story. There’s an ease to your steps because of it, a nonchalance in every movement, and it makes Bucky’s blood boil to see it so plainly.

With all the good that you could do, you choose to do nothing instead; to stay out of the picture entirely and burn through your powers just because you can, wasting them all on things that don’t mean anything.

How many lives could you potentially save?

Instead, you consume disturbing amounts of caffeine and then continue to provide running commentary to the world around you based on things that, to him, never happen at all. "Do this", "don’t do that", "take the other one", or, his absolute favorite, "don’t make me fix that".

Why not? he wants to ask, say, demand. Why not fix all of it?

It takes a while for him to realize that all of your fire means you’re burning from both ends. In fact, it takes Becca.

"You should bring her by sometime," she tells him on a rainy afternoon. "While I’m still alive and kicking."

His little sister just turned ninety-eight. Her kitchen sideboard is filled with black-and-white pictures reminding him of all the things in her life that he missed, arranged in perfect little wooden frames.

"And why would I do that?" Bucky asks, scowling at his cards.

"Because you keep mentioning her," Rebecca says dryly and whisks the cards onto her pile with quick fingers.

"You gotta be kidding me," he groans, noting down her points. "And I don’t."

"Do, too. I don’t remember you being this terrible at this game."

"Because I haven’t caught you when you’re cheating."

"Exactly. It’s embarrassing." She wins the next trick, too. "How’s Tuesday?"

"Am I clairvoyant now?"

"I was thinking lunch."

"No." Finally, he gets a couple of points down. When he glances up at his sister again, she’s looking at him expectantly and he sighs. "What?"

"You can’t fault me for being curious," she says. She has just as many opinions as she did when she was sixteen. Her eyes are still the same, too, the same shade of blue as his and the same glimmer of archness as their mother.

"Don’t you think it’s weird?" Bucky says, finally giving in. "The whole … time thing?"

"I think it’s very weird, but so’s you returning from the dead and kvetching about it." Her eyes narrow when he starts to protest. His mouth closes again. "Besides," she continues, shuffling her hand around, "it doesn’t sound all that fun."

"To have the power to never make mistakes?"

"To have to live through every mistake twice without anyone knowing."

Something about her words strikes him like a match, and so he tilts his head and squints at her and thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s got it wrong.

That you carry not only your past, but all the futures you’ve seen that never came to be; all the what ifs having turned into answers.

And he thinks, how nice. And then he thinks, how horrifying.

It’s a thought that follows him over the next couple of weeks, and it starts reframing your interactions for him, in a way.

"Will you stop staring at me," you say without looking up from your book.

Honestly, he can’t. He’s still trying to pick up on it, the split second between before and after, that little change of your posture, your hair, your face, that tells him more time has passed for you than it has for him.

It’s more of a feeling than anything else, something right at the back of his mind telling him that something is different if he concentrates on it enough, but he’s never sure what it is. And he doesn’t like that; not one bit.

So Bucky crosses his arms and leans back. "Why?"

A flash of irritation makes your nose twitch, even though you still refuse to meet his eye.

"It’s rude, for one."

"Noted." He waits for the two that never comes. "Anything else?"

And there it is. A blink-and-you-miss-it kind of moment, like the air shifting around you ever so slightly, a certain knowing glint in your eyes when you roll them and get up.

"Annoying!"

He can’t help it. He wonders what your original answer was.

***

Bucky’s relationship with time changes slowly, the deepest cuts carefully mending themselves until looking back doesn’t feel like getting his bones ripped apart anymore, until he looks at you on a cold day in January and realizes he’s fucked.

At first, he hopes that it might be a fluke. A trick of the light, maybe, or seasonal allergies. That’s the reason why his eyes are drawn to your face as soon as he enters a room; the closest source of discomfort always the thing he seeks out first. That’s the reason why his chest constricts like that.

But the truth is, he knows this feeling has been building slowly; he’s just been unwilling to admit it.

Something soft and delicate has started to nestle in that gaping hole inside his chest, unbothered by the walls he’s so carefully built up.

He’d never planned on you.

Fuck, if he’d known in the beginning, he might’ve …

No, he thinks. He wouldn’t have changed anything.

Because you’re too good for him, anyway, and he knows it. Smart and strong and funny and gorgeous and capable of things he’s not sure he’ll ever fully comprehend; and it’s worse than that, because he knows you now.

You’re grouchy in the mornings and you make terrible jokes when you’re nervous and you have a strange feud with his cat and your smile makes him want to put his fist through the wall because what is he supposed to do with any of this?

He’s not made for this dance anymore. That part was taken from him so long ago, and he’s delusional to think that anything or anyone could return it to him after all the bridges he’d been made to cross and burn. Why would someone like him deserve to be given tenderness anymore in this life? Why would anyone want to try?

But that foolish thing blooming inside him feels a lot like hope, despite of what he keeps telling himself.

There’s just something about you that keeps pulling him in, and honestly, he’s tired of fighting it. Then again, the thought of you feeling the same is nothing short of ridiculous.

He’s not the same guy as he used to be. Hell, sometimes he’ll look at old photographs and barely recognize himself.

He remembers life before, and maybe that’s what makes this so hard. He remembers talking to pretty girls, their bright smiles, their soft skin underneath his hands. Good times were easy to come by, even though life was hard in a different way, then. But he was good at it; acting on his feelings alone used to be simple, fun, second-nature almost.

It’s different now.

It used to be different only once before, and look where that’s gotten him.

No, he can’t say anything. Not ever; or not yet, at any rate.

Sometimes, though, Bucky lies awake at night and listens to the rain knocking against his window, and he remembers how much easier falling asleep used to be when he had someone next to him and his mattress didn’t swallow him alive.

He’ll remember the dark circles under your eyes and wish it could be as easy as asking, too. He wonders if there’s a universe you remember where he tries, but he doubts it.

These days, he knows his mind again. And it’s not a burden he wants to share.

You have enough to carry on your own.

Maybe, he thinks as he stares up at the ceiling at three in the morning, maybe there’s still a certain comfort in your powers, in knowing all the possibilities, but it also means constantly losing something that’s real; always mourning the life that isn’t.

He can relate to that.

And maybe that means you can relate to him, too, at least a little bit.

It’s odd, how comforting that last little thought is to him.

When he does eventually fall asleep, you make your way into his dreams, too, sometimes. Those times are the worst.

You’re you, and he’s him, and there’s a sort of "us" in the both of you that doesn’t exist in real life. So when you let him lace his fingers with yours and press your lips to his forehead and it feels easy, that’s usually the point when he wakes up, heart tumbling over itself, right hand tracing the ghost of your touch, always too much, never enough.

He knows it’s not real.

He knows it’s just an indulgence; selfish, really.

The problem is that whatever small hope has decided to settle in his very core is impossible to kill, no matter how much he pushes it down; and he’s not sure he wants to lose it again.

Secretly, silently, serendipitously, you make him have faith in the future again.

But it’s not time for it yet.

if you want to read more about these two (plus a lot of time related shenanigans), read the main series here. or check out the rest of my bucky fics, that's also an option 💚 i don't do tag lists but you can follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications

[courtingchaos]

Braised

Line Cook Eddie x Barista Reader

Summary: A long day at work leads to a long night in Eddie’s bedroom.

A/N: woof. I started this back in March? Took me this long to come back to it but I like it. Nay, love it because line cook Eddie is my boyfriend. Also, I need @newlips to know this has lived in my head since January and is the inspiration for this. It’s literally just….so so so much smut.

Warnings: Slight somnophilia (listen you had a long day and he’s got a great mouth), sex, drug use (not for the somno)

18+ NSFW No Minors

“Eddie, I’m really tired.” You giggle when his mouth finds the back of your neck.

“Yeah but I think I found some more syrup back here. Mhm, yep another sweet spot.” He rakes his hands into your hair to pull it up gently so he can get at more skin. It tickles, makes you scrunch your nose at the feel of his lips pecking around.

“Seriously Ed, I’m not gonna be much fun tonight.” It’s not that you didn’t want to fuck around, it was that it had been a Sunday From Hell. You’d shown up to his apartment a sticky mess, a new bleach stain on your favorite work jeans. He’d done nothing but smile and take your bag and usher you off to his bathroom, tossing in one of his big bath towels behind you and promising to have dinner ready when you were done.

Since then, he’d somehow convinced you to sit on his bed with him when you’d gotten out.

You gotta plug your phone in why don’t you sit down I’m sure your feet are killing you let me rub them for you oh why don’t you let me get that knot out of your back no seriously just lay down I’ll give you a little massage no I’m not getting fresh calm down.

You’d gotten comfortable, lightly dozing in the middle of his bed while he made sure the knot in your back never showed up again.

“Feel better?”

You nod and sigh dreamily. He’s shifted up from the edge of the bed to straddling your hips, bent over your back to whisper in your ear. “I can make you feel even better if you want.” He dances his fingers down to run along the edge of the towel.

“Eddie…”

“What if you just lay there huh? Let me take care of you.” He says quietly.

You were tired. You were sore. However the shower had worked a minor miracle and the growing bulge pushed against your ass was changing your mind by the minute. You pretend to contemplate, rolling your head back and forth on the back of your hand that’s propped up under your chin.

“And you’re making me dinner?”

“And I’m making us dinner.”

You shrug lightly. “Can’t complain if I fall asleep.”

“Scouts honor. I’ll leave you alone if you fall asleep.”

“Well I didn’t say that.” You mumble in your skin. His weight shifts forward, planting his hands next to your head. He hovers over you and chuckles. “Are you being a freak?”

“…Maybe. What constitutes a freak?”

“Talkin’ about me fucking you while your asleep’ll do it.”

The towel is the first thing to go, Eddie’s fingers sliding between the terrycloth and your shower warmed skin. It’s pulled free and flung towards the bathroom door, the chill air hitting your clammy skin for only a moment before his big frame is back on you, knees around your hips and hands planting beside your elbows. Your cheek upturned, he leans down to give you a kiss.

“You’re real sweet on me, huh?” You mumble. Out of the corner of your eye you can see the flash of a smile before he dives back down to kiss a trail from your face to your shoulder all the while slowly grinding his hips into you.

“You could say that.” He spends a while on light touches, pulling quite sighs out of you while you relax further into the comforter. You think you might actually be falling asleep when you realize he’s stopped touching you. He gets off the bed for a minute to rearrange and grab his other pillow. He kneels beside you again and taps your hip. When you don’t make a move he grabs you, fingers digging in enough to make you laugh.

“Don’t tickle me!”

“Then move!” The smile is evident in his voice even though you can’t see his face. He jostles you again and you turn your hip up off the bed.

“No, lift your hips up, like-forget it.” He leaves the pillow and yanks you up by the waist, making you tuck your knees up under you to stay up right. He makes a pleased sound and smooths his palm over the curve of your ass.

“You just gonna stare all night?”

“I could.” He says quietly. His finger traces light lines up the back of your thigh and you can feel the heat slowly creeping its way across your hips. It reaches out towards the lingering feeling of his palms pulling you up, where his fingertips had dug in. You were getting used to him moving you around however he wanted, liked it a lot even, just not sure how to ask for it yet. He pulls you out of your thoughts when he tucks the folded over pillow under you and gently pushes you back down.

“Relax.” He coos at you from above. His palm is warm against your ankle where he pulls a little to help you straighten your leg out. Tugs your other leg straight and then settles himself between your knees.

“Eddie-“ Turning your head over your shoulder is a deep stretch, and with your ass in the air slightly you can barely make out his hand hovering near his mouth and his dimples. He tilts his head over so you can actually see him.

“Hey that doesn’t look comfortable or relaxing.” He swats at one cheek, just fingertips, admonishing you. Tucking your chin back to the pillow you hide your smile in the silk. “You trust me, right?” He’s asking you, sincerity laced in his quiet words. You nod your head yes but he makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Tell me?”

“Yeah.” A little breathless, only because he keeps stealing it from you with these kinds of acts. “Of course.” You do. It’s been a few months of actual dating and every time he’s asked it’s been yes (vehemently yes) and still he asks. It’s not like he’s moved on to suspending you from the ceiling, but it makes you a little morose for all the times other people didn’t check in, didn’t ask after simple things.

“Hey.” He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze. He’s gotten so good at reading you, can see when you immediately start to get lost in that maze of thought again. “I can leave you alone.”

“Don’t…don’t leave. I am having fun.” You shift just a little so he can see the side of your face, hair pushed back so he can see your eye glinting in the lamp light. “I mean it.” His dimples match your grin and when his weight shifts up you can feel the smile pressed against your shoulder where he places a kiss. He litters your back with them, going down your arms till he can’t reach them tucked under your cheek. He lays them up your neck until he can feel the tension bleeding away. Plants a big obnoxious one on your cheek, one that gets you to scrunch up your nose again. He runs his hands in between the spaces he misses, fingernails leaving little pink lines down your back, lines that fade after a second. He’s trying to get you back in that relaxed state you were in. Post shower and dewy and looking like a water nymph lounging on his bed.

He’s at your hip, hovering over the black lines of the tattoo there. Breathe hot where it’s trapped between your skin and his face. He runs his hands down the outside of your thighs and back up. Steadies himself while he stretches out between your legs. He shifts around to lean on his elbows, watches the goosebumps fan out and over your skin. You’re good and sunk into the bed so he leans forward and slowly bites down on your left cheek.

Your leg kicks up next to him. “Eddie!” A high pitched squeal of his name makes him laugh around the mouthful of you. He keeps an eye on your face and rests his wrist on the pillow, knuckle barely grazing your pussy. Your hips shift slightly under his mouth and he lets go, admiring the imprints of his teeth before running his tongue over it. Inches his hand up on the pillow enough to slide his finger between between your lips, wasting no time in finding your clit. Circles it slow in tight circles, your sigh loud in his quiet room when he finally touches you how you’ve been wanting him to. He likes watching you like this, soft and relaxed. Knows he’s doing his job at keeping you out of that thought trap when your hips chase his touch. He rests his head momentarily on your ass, the quiet chuckle from you cut off when he slides his finger up and brushes over your entrance. You clench against him gently prodding, canting your hips back to chase his hand when he goes still.

“Hold on.” You hear the wet sound of his mouth and then feel the momentary cool touch of his spit slick finger going in slow until he hits his knuckle. The moan caught in your chest is dislodged when he flutters the fingers of his other hand over your sensitive bud and crooks his finger deep inside you.

“Is that good?”

A slight nod of your head and then a sharp gasp when he spreads you open with two fingers and spits, fingers working to spread it around. “You like it when I make a mess of you?” Another nod, he can see where you’re fisting the pillow under your head, but that’s not what he wants. “Hey.” Firm but gentle, he gets your attention.

“Fuck, yes Eddie please…” You run out of words when he slips another finger in, both now rubbing up against that soft spot inside. He’s taking his time, both hands working at a torturous pace and making you squirm around the bed.

“Told you I’d take care of you.”

“I never doubted you.” You gasp into your hand. He said he’d wanted you to relax but this is having the opposite effect. Between him nibbling on the cuff of your ass and taking his sweet time fingering you, it’s no wonder you’re pulling taut around him. You kick your leg up and try to squeeze at him, trying to keep him in place even though you couldn’t pay him to move.

Eddie speaks lowly. Hushed tones accentuated by the sound of you, wet made wetter from him sneaking his tongue in with his fingers.

“Been waiting all day for this.” His nose brushes along your folds when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. Goosebumps explode over the backs of your thighs when his now free hand lays over your lower back to pin you to the pillow.

“Taste so sweet for me.” He licks a wide tongue from your aching clit to your entrance, tip of his tongue dipping in to taste.

“Eddie I swear…”

“What?” He licks his thumb, pausing for second before gliding it over the tight ring of your ass. A gasp and your legs tightening around him make him look up at you. Your hands gripping the pillow, mouth hung open on a gasp tell him everything.

“You like that?” Another long lick over your center pulls a groan out of you and Eddie is done asking questions. He makes a mess out of you, wet sounds drowned out by your whining and moaning. You babble about his mouth and how good it feels and Eddie preens, doubles down and presses just a little bit more with his thumb. He flicks his tongue over your clit and when you squeeze him between your thighs he speeds up.

He’s been achingly hard since he started this little venture, grinding his hips into the bed with every one of your moans and as much as he enjoys taking you apart like this, he can barely wait to sink into you.

You chant his name when he sucks your clit and your hands look for purchase in the pillow and the sheets. The tremble in your legs barely starts before your pulled tight all around him, low groan from deep in your chest punched out by the rapid flick of his tongue. You’re just off the edge, orgasm rolling through while you huff into the pillow trying to catch your breath when Eddie hauls up. Distantly you hear his clothes hit the floor and he’s between your legs again, cock laying heavy on your ass.

“I take it back.”

“Take what back?” You’re floating in clouds made out of his bed.

“I’ve been waiting all day for this.” He strains out while pulling his hips back and slowly grazing lower and lower till the head of his cock catches and he pushes in. You both groan in unison and he takes his time fully filling you.

“Fuck baby, so fuckin’ wet for me.”

You can’t do much but lay there in awe, boneless and relaxed and letting Eddie do whatever it was he wanted.

“Feel so good for me.” He drags his hips back slow and pushes back in slow and keeps talking low and slow and he’s got you in a trance. Nodding along and agreeing, keening and whining when he pushes right into that perfect spot.

“If you keep doing that I’m gonna cum again.”

“What, this?” He gives a little more on that thrust. “Not yet you aren’t.” He grabs your ass, one hand on either side to use as leverage in this game of torture he’s playing. He lets a line of spit fall from his lips between you two and resumes his previous activity of sliding his thumb over your ass.

“You are a dirty girl.” He teases when you push your hips back into him. “Want me to fuck your ass?” He’s so full of himself, with every right to be. You nod under him, a silent ‘oh’ on your lips.

“Of course you, I’d take such good care of you.” Eddie babbles at the back of your head to try to distract himself. Every ridge and bump slides along his length and sends him closer to the edge and every lurch forward he pauses, not wanting this to be over.

It’s only when he makes you arch your back and he drives down into you that he starts to falter, your second orgasm taking you both by surprise.

“Oh shit, Eddieeddieddie!” You chant his name and push your hips back to keep him inside and Eddie thinks he might just fucking die tonight.

You’re out, hands falling limply beside your head and mouth hanging open. He���s not sure he’s ever seen you so blissed out.

“Oh my god.” Even with you floating off, your pussy grips him, fluttering around his cock in the aftermath of your own orgasm. He’d been playing a game with himself, just as much as with you but he’s nearing the end of his own limits. A thin line of sweat trickles down his back and his nerves are on fire. He holds you open so he can watch where he sinks into you but there’s a faltering in his rhythm. He curses and grips the globes of your ass, nails digging half moons into your skin.

You feel good, you always feel so good and he’s lost his train of thought. Stuck on the wet sucking of your pussy and the soft fat under his hands. He reached his goal in getting you relaxed, so much so that you’ve gone limp under him, little grunts of pleasure when he hits particularly deep. He can let go but he doesn’t want to, this impromptu edging he’s been after slowly killing him and making his eyes roll.

“So fucking good for me, yeah?”

You barely nod, too busy drooling into the pillow to give him a real answer.

“God I love the way-oh fuck honey, do that again!” You flex around his cock and Eddie’s hips stutter before he decides ‘fuck it’. He punches his hips fast and holds you down to keep you in place. Your grunts turn into moans and you scratch at the pulled up bedding, looking for something to hold on to. He fucks you right until it’s almost a mistake, pulls out and paints your back in hot lines, a pained groan vibrating in his chest while he pumps his twitching cock.

He can feel you trembling under him while he tries to catch his breath. One hand holding his softening cock while the other rubs up your leg and over your side.

“That was fucking beautiful baby.”

A slight chuckle from you and he leans over you to nose at the side of your face. “You okay?”

“Uh huh.”

“You don’t have a single worry in that pretty little head, do you?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Good.” He peppers a few kisses against your cheek and you smile lazily.

“I’m gonna go get a towel okay?”

You raise a weak thumbs up and he gives your ass a slap on the way off the bed.

In the time it takes him to find a towel and come back into the bedroom, you’re out fully this time. He lets his eyes wander over your body, moulded into his bed. The slow rise and fall of your back as you slip deeper into sleep and he shakes himself out of his poetic waxing to clean you up before it becomes a problem.

You only stir a little when the cloth hits your skin but Eddie is done quickly, ditching it in favor of tracing light shapes over your back. He smirks at the short red marks along your back where he’d hung on for dear life and it’s only the timer on the stove that’s able to pull him out of his memories, lest he burn the apartment complex down.

“Hey.”

You stir, pulled gently out of your nap. Eddie is crouched beside the bed with his chin hooked on the mattress, watching you blink blearily at him. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Did I fall asleep?” You ask, stretching under the comforter that he must have pulled up over you.

“Like, immediately. Got that NyQuil dick, what can I say?” His laugh shakes the bed when you smack his shoulder lightly.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Much easier to get you under the covers.” He gives you a quick kiss before standing up and holding out your pajamas to you. “You can eat dinner naked if you want, but there’s sauce involved.” He tilts head though and hums. “On second thought don’t, I can help you clean that up.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you and you snatch your clothes out of his hand. Sliding out of bed you march into the bathroom while he whistles after you.

“Jesus christ this is so good.” You say around a mouthful of food. Eddie grins into his fork, cheeks hot with his oncoming blush.

“Yeah?”

You shoot him a look daring him to pick apart his meal. “I’ve never had a turnip before. This is heavenly.”

“Never?”

“No! Especially not whipped!”

He watches you shove a forkful of charred broccolini into your mouth and pretend cry. “I really thought the ribs were gonna win but it’s this fucking broccoli.”

“Broccolini.” He corrects, gently. You roll your eyes and mutter sorry while you dig around your plate.

While earlier had be a spectacular beginning of the night, this is what he looks forward to the most, when he gets to stretch his wings and try new things with dinner for the two of you. Your face always lights up and is swiftly followed by a low growl of ‘oh my fucking god’ when you get first taste. You have yet to give him any critique outside of asking why he was buying you treats instead of making them.

“Eddie, I’m not kidding, this is the best thing you’ve made thus far.” You run your finger around the edge of your plate, gathering up the left over wine sauce. He watches your tongue lap it up off your finger and then watches your tongue glide along the edge of your wine glass, collecting the few remaining drops, momentarily wishing he was a piece of drink ware. “So, question.” You set your glass down pointedly.

“Answer?”

“When are you gonna let me take care of you?” You give him warm look, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

“You can totally make dinner whenever-“

“No, that’s not all I mean.” You slide off the barstool and round the corner of the counter to where he’s sitting. You lean your whole body into him, hands toying with the loose curl from his clipped back hair. “You always take care of me. If it isn’t dinner it’s in there,” you gesture over your shoulder to his bedroom with your thumb, “or it’s paying for my nails, or taking me on dates. When do I get to do that for you?”

Eddie sighs and looks down at his plate. He doesn’t want an argument to spool out of this. You’ve touched on it before and every time gotten a little defensive about him always spending his money.

“I get joy out of your joy.”

“Okay, and I’d get joy from taking you out once in a while.”

He can see the resolve in your look, the slight pinch of your eyebrows and it’s been too good of a night. “Alright. Later,” he gives you a look, “we’ll talk about you paying for my nails okay?” He can’t get through without laughing and you push him, grinning. He stands and wraps you up tight in a hug, lips buried in your hair next to your ear. “Seriously, I promise. I’ll think of something.”

“Now though, I want to go out on that balcony and smoke that stupid little pink joint you rolled yesterday.” He points toward the door and you huff into his neck.

“It’s not stupid! The papers had little cherry blossoms on them!”

On the balcony Eddie sits in one of the folding chairs while you drag a pillow out with you to sit between his knees. You both sit in silence, passing the joint back and forth and scrolling through your phones. You hold it up for him when you find a funny video and he runs his fingers through your hair between passes. He stops paying attention to whatever he’s reading when you lay your head against his thigh and place a little kiss on the inside of his knee. You’re engrossed in some article, mindlessly nuzzling into Eddie’s leg and he has to take a deep, shuddering breath.

It’s balmy out, a quick breeze pushing through every so often. He’s full of good food and good wine and good weed, the smell of dinner and your perfume filling the air. Your hair is soft under his hand, a small hum from you when he scratches his nails against your scalp. Eddie has to stop himself, has to bite his tongue from blurting it out. It’s only been two months of on paper dating but he knows it in his gut, deep in his bones.

It’s love in the way you loosely wrap your arm around his calf. Love in the way he gets excited to go to the grocery store with you. Love in the way you sigh under him almost every night of the week.

“You okay?” You rest your chin on his thigh, looking up at him. “You got kind of quiet.”

“I-“ he looks anywhere but your eyes, wide and shining in the light filtering up from the parking lot. “I really like you.”

Your smile makes his insides melt. “I really like you too Eddie.”

He feels like a coward, like is leagues away from how he feels but it’s what he’s sticking to. He doesn’t want to send you fleeing out the front door, not when it’s been a basically perfect night. “I really like spending time with you…like this.” He circles his finger around and you laugh, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh I’m sure you do.” You turn around to face him, kneeling on the pillow and running your hands up under his shirt. Your fingers tickle on their way up to rest on his sides. He leans forward to give you a kiss before you lay your cheek against his sternum. He knows there’s no way you can’t hear his heart kicking up, can feel your hands tighten on him and your sigh through the thin cotton.

There’s a rumble of an old Chevy and Eddie watches Jeff pull through the front gate. He’s only got a few more minutes with you like this before his roommate comes in, but it’ll be enough. Hand cradled against your neck, holding you to him he thinks about all the love just under your cheek and hopes maybe you’ll feel it, even if he can’t say it yet.

(Sacrifice for the read more)

[kenziebluex]

The Broken Heart That Makes Us

We are back!!! (updates will be every Friday in January 😊) Hope everyone had a great finals week and happy holiday!

Story Description: 

Your arranged marriage is on its last legs. After making an agreement with your step son, Megumi, you are puzzled when you are faced with finally making a decision.

Your whole life so far has been planned for you, leading you to struggle with the idea of moving on and finding something stable…someone stable.  

Will you finally be able to let go of the life that was made for you? Will there be others out there willing to pick up the pieces?

(18+) Pairings: Toji, Goji, Geto, Nanami, & Choso.

Read on ao3: TBHTMU

Chapter 2:

You weren’t surprised when the morning after Toji was nowhere to be found. He even packed up most of his stuff this time. What wasn’t even more surprising was that he didn’t show up for his son's martial arts tournament that was 2 days later. 

You knew how important this tournament was for Megumi since it was the last tournament before he would advance up a level in his class. If he won this match he would advance a color.

So when he walked out on stage and scanned the crowd for you. You made sure you were front and center not wanting him to feel alone. His face lit up as he noticed you in the crowd wanting to wave even though you knew he wouldn’t out of fear of embarrassment. Megumi continued scanning the crowd even though you hoped he wouldn’t. 

As much as he puts on a strong face you knew one thing that he had that you regretfully had a few days ago too.

Hope.

It all happened at once you watched as a wave of realization hit him. He looked back at you for a moment and you could see a tear slowly falling down his face. You felt sick to your stomach knowing that he was hurting. Megumi seemed to realize where he was and let out a laugh to distract himself. Getting back into his starting stance. He was going to do what he always does and channel his emotions into the fight.

You can just imagine what happened next. 

Megumi won the match 3-0. 

✿❀○❀✿

Practically running backstage after the match you barely manage to not trip over your own feet. You usually waited after the match in the front with the other parents but you needed to see him. You just felt an intense urge to tell him how proud of him you were. 

“Meg,..megumi” calling out softly in the crowd of people backstage you were met with a voice you didn’t recognize.

“Megumi’s over here.” said a man you weren’t familiar with. Megumi was sitting on a chair in the far corner of the room. You didn’t need to see his face to know by his body language he was frustrated and crying.

You couldn’t help yourself but to crouch down and hug him ignoring the people that were near him once you got to him. Surprisingly you were met with a tight hug back as he silently sobbed into your shoulder. Megumi usually doesn’t like public affection but you figured this was his one exception. 

“I’m so sorry Meg, but I'm so proud of you” you whispered next to his head, not wanting to draw more attention to him. Continuing to hold him and assuring him everything is okay you finally look up at the man that was standing in front of you as if he was blocking the view so you two could have some privacy. 

The back of the man had your eyes almost popping out the back of your head. The man was wearing a tight black compression shirt that made sure to emphasize the muscles on his shoulder and back. You could almost see the outlines of his veins and the back of the shirt left little to the imagination. He had to be a security guard. 

“Excuse me” you say softly because you didn't want to alarm Megumi. He didn’t seem to hear what you said which you figured would be the case. It was very loud backstage with the people and the wrap up music playing. Reaching out to touch his arm you hesitated causing you to jerk back.

The sudden movement seemed to have got his attention. He turned around and you wished he hadn't. 

“My god.” your eyes instantly locked on to his abs. You were right earlier at this point he might as well just not have worn a shirt. His abs were hugging the shirt and you could have sworn you could see his nipples if you looked hard enough. You could tell this man worked out daily. 

His white hair was pushed back and don’t get me started on his beautiful blue eyes. They seemed to sparkle even though the lighting wasn’t shining directly on him. He looked like a delicate painting that would be hung on the wall in an art museum. You were sure you could write a poem about how handsome- 

“SORRY” you say in a horrified whisper when you realize you have spent the last minute staring at his body. 

“You can stare all you want.” the man said with a smirk before bending down to the level me and Megumi were on. He was even more intimidating up close. 

“You guys okay? I saw him crying and led him over here for some privacy. I know these matches can be quite intense.” he sounded different from the joking tone he just displayed a second before. His voice was filled with genuine concern. 

“We are okay sorry for worrying you Sensei.” Megumi said, removing his head from my arm while slowly standing up. Sensei? I have never seen him before. I would have remembered meeting him. I stood up to not wanting to be kneeling on the hard floor any longer. 

It was a brief awkward silence as we all stood up not sure which one of us was going to talk first. I could barely look at the man in front of me, still embarrassed from my actions earlier.

“Mom this is Sensei Satoru Gojo, he’s a Sensei for the upper class students. He offered me a spot in his class.” Megumi said, breaking the silence. I turned to Megumi in disbelief, usually he asks permission before accepting after school classes. 

"We will talk about it at home Megumi." you said trying to put a positive smile on your face. You were met with a smile back and knew you would give in.

✿❀○❀✿ - (big jump skip, present time)

It’s been two years since you’ve been  rebuilding your life after divorcing Toji. To be honest, life became…somewhat peaceful. But it would be a lie if you said that overcoming everything was easy. The marriage was arranged to benefit your father so you thought divorcing had a heavy price to pay.

 Time passed and marriage to Toji was no longer needed for the firm’s success, making it just another fruitless expense. You still can’t believe that your dad uprooted your life based on a whim  just for you to go through hell and in the end, everything fell apart. But, you couldn’t complain much. After all, Megumi was all yours and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You figured that finally getting into a steady beat while taking care of Megumi was going to be a breeze. (Since that was something you were doing anyway.) And you know that he is not the type to complain much about anything. However, a guilty reminder racked your brain. 

Megumi needed someone to look up to. Up until now, you have always been the safety net to Toji’s broken promises and a part of you feels ashamed for separating him from his father. You concluded that enrolling him into Gojo-sensei’s martial arts classes was a good sign since it was the first time he truly asked for something from you. So, you gave Megumi all the support he needed to succeed and that’s why you’re parked outside of the dojo 20 minutes early before his class ends, right?

You eyed the rearview mirror while making final touches on your lashes with your mascara until you heard a blaring car horn. Shocked out of your focus, the mascara skidded leaving a dazzling black streak under your eye. Your head snapped outside the driver’s seat window of your blue Chevrolet Equinox.

“What the hell? They’re early!” The panic fell from your lips as you worked double time trying to tidy up the mess under your eye and fumbled through your purse to prepare to go inside. The other students filed out of the dojo and into their parents' cars while you had to prepare for a ‘fun parent-teacher conference’ as Gojo had stated. 

You exited your car, with your shoulder bag in tow and entered the dojo with a million thoughts running through your head.

��Why a conference? Is Meg finally going through his rebellious phase?’ 

A thoughtless sigh escaped your lips as you discarded your heels to step up to the tatami mat of the cleared out dojo where only two people remained. 

 As soon as you passed through the double doors, brilliant clear quartz blue eyes pinned you in place. Phantom white hair slicked back from the sweat of a rigorous practice. The wet of his forehead trickled down into the scandalously opened chest of his white Gi that no doubt explored down the rest of his well-toned body. 

“Mama Megumi has such shameless eyes.” Serpent like words hummed from a deep bassy voice. You blinked twice as your gaze focused on the playful grin that tugged the lips of the tall mischievous man. He allowed the collar of his Gi to fall slightly, parading more of his wickedly muscled peck. Your lips tightened at his obvious teasing. 

You ignored his taunt and shifted your gaze to Megumi, who wore a similar Gi but a color belt of a few ranks below. 

“Meg, is everything ok?” You asked, fully focusing on your son whose typical spiky black hair laid flat from his work out. 

Megumi’s eyes shifted back and forth between you to Gojo, lightly acknowledging the banter.

 It was always a game between you two. He’d flirt, you’d ignore. You tease and he bites back. It was a battle of wits everytime you two met which is precisely why you wouldn’t play his game today. Megumi’s wellbeing always came before whatever shallow flirting you had going on.

“Yeah mom. I-.” Megumi began.

“Megumi is doing just fine.” Gojo interrupted as he swung a lazy arm over Megumi’s shoulders. Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

“I don’t get it then. Why did we need a conference?” Your arms slumped as you felt the rush of worry escape your body. All that was left was confusion. Gojo had whispered something to him and after a formal bow, Megumi departed to go gather his belongings. 

Gojo leisurely planted his hands on his hips and gilded himself towards you, leaving only a forearm’s length in between. His towering figure overshadowed your frame as the heat of his gaze spoke a thousand words. 

“I think we are past the stage of stick-up-your-ass formalities.” Gojo purred. Playfulness showered his lips while his eyes left a danger to be desired. 

“I don’t have time for games when it involves my son, sensei.” You answered firmly. He raised a hand and used his thumb to brush under your eye. You assumed he was cleaning up the aftermath of your mascara but heat remained as his thumb caressed your cheek. 

You gently slapped his hand away and it fell to his side. You shot him a glare warning him to stop wasting your time. He smirked, humored at your fiery response.

“I just wanted to do a follow up for the letter I sent you through the mail.” He confessed.  Your head fell to the side and your eyes trekked downwards in deep thought. You don’t remember receiving any mail recently from him but then again…

“Ah-. I changed my address.” You raised your head too quickly not knowing Gojo hovered low enough where his nose barely brushed yours. You took in a gasp. 

Gojo studied your face and his peering blue eyes paused at your lips. You subconsciously wetted them with your tongue and you watched his breath hitch. His eyes then fell to your chest that teasingly left the first two buttons open of your blazer. 

“This is our new address! We fully moved in about a year ago.” You broke the tension. Your body turned to fumble through your purse looking for a small piece of paper and a pen. You settled for an old restaurant business card and began to write your address on the back. 

With his index and middle finger, Gojo swiftly swiped the card from your hands. He exchanged looks with the card and your face and then looked back at the card and flipped it over. He snorted a laugh and covered his mouth to contain it. 

“What?” You shrugged trying to take a peek at the card to see if you spelled something wrong. 

He flipped the card up to your face.

“Coupon for Chuck N Cheese’s?! Are you 6?!” He threw his head back and boomed in laughter. You shoved his shoulder and attempted to swipe the business card back. He was faster than you and raised the card in the air to force you to jump for it.

“Give it back, dickcheese.” You leaped again and attempted to take the card back. Gojo’s wicked smile only grew while he watched your embarrassed reaction. 

“Ha! And I’m the childish one?!” You huffed.

You felt a hand curl around your back and he pulled your chest against his. The force sent you both tumbling with Gojo breaking your fall. 

Your eyes grew wide as your chest pressed plush against his and his long legs straddling the sides of you. You tried not to focus on something rock solid that bullied its way against your pelvis. You felt his hand on your back slowly rub up and down, teasing the top of your ass. 

He took another glance at the card with your address written on it.

“Got it. I’ll swing by tomorrow at 8. Dress nicely.” He ordered and you pushed yourself up to meet him face to face. 

“What game are you playing?” You whispered looking for deception in his gaze. His head fell back on the mat and he gazed up at you under hooded eyes. His hand stopped just before the curve of your ass. He parted his lips as he was about to answer.

“Oi, pervert!” A bellow emerged from the changing room and you quickly scrambled to your knees and Gojo sat up after you. Megumi’s face was twisted in disgust directed at Gojo. 

Before another word was uttered, Megumi marched over to you and pulled you up by the wrist. He stood in front of you protectively. However, Gojo was completely unphased.

“Oh! That reminds me. I wanted to recommend Megumi to extra practices. I think he could train for a higher belt before the end of the year.” Gojo explained nonchalantly. He perched up his knee and rested his elbow on it while flicking the card back and forth in between his fingers. 

You rubbed the temples of your forehead.

‘This could have been a fucking email.’ You groaned internally. 

“Of course…I do need a parent’s approval. It means that he’s going to be training more during the week and I wanted to make sure that was ok with you.” Gojo rose up to his feet. You were taken aback at how reasonable his explanation was. Watching Gojo flirt back and forth from playful to serious was kind of sexy in a way.

His gaze turned soft as he eyed Megumi knowingly.

“I want to see him succeed.” Gojo confessed. You noticed the flicker of sincerity in his tone. 

Keeping up with Megumi’s practices was hellish already. Although moving gave you the distance you needed and the living space Megumi deserved, traveling was brutal. His shoulders slumped. He knew this too. But if jujutsu martial arts was something he wanted to do, distance be damned!

“I think we can spare a few extra days. Right Meg?” You placed two hands on his shoulders and he turned his back to face you in disbelief. Then, the pinch of hope you briefly saw in his eyes disappeared in an instant.

“But you’ve been pushing yourself. There are no buses near our house and you have to drive me to school everyday and then from school to practice. I don’t want to be a burden again…” The last part of his sentence trailed off almost like a silent apology. He almost struggled to look you in the eye. Being a burden was the last thing you wanted Megumi to think. Especially after it took years to heal the wounds his father left that made him have those thoughts.

“Erm! *cough* I’ll take Meggy home if he’ll need a ride.” Gojo suggested. Both you and Megumi snapped your heads towards him. Megumi pondered the suggestion.

“This just gives me more reasons to camp out at your doorstep.” He continued and once again wore a mischievous grin. You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes.

“Stalker.” You uttered while guiding Megumi to the exit. 

“Remember! 8 O’Clock on the Dot! Okay??? Do you hear me?!! Hey!!! Hey helloooo!!!” You heard Gojo holler from behind you as you and Megumi exited the dojo. You displayed a pretty little middle finger to Gojo without sparing him a glance. 

“Mom, don't associate with him. He’s ill.” 

“Yeah…I know.”

tag: @beetusbritt❤ @nousija divider by @cafekitsune art credit 1: ig: arekushisu (commission do not use) art credit 2: twitter: ayushnz_ ❀follow for more ❀ ao3: kenzieblue❀ -kenzie & des

[alovesreading]

Chicken Shop Date | Part 8 |

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: 28.6k

A/N: Hey besties!! We’re back and this one’s another fun one for you! We were reminiscing about the UK tour writing this one, giving those good days a CSD twist and we hope you enjoy it loads. It was so much fun to write the shit everyone would get up to on the road, but can you believe this one was meant to be the end of this series? Mentalllllllll. Please make sure to check out the author’s note at the end of this as it’s an important one. Thanks for reading! Enjoy! xx

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

| N’s Masterlist | A’s Masterlist |

~*~*~*~ 14th January ~*~*~*~

“Baby please.”

The begging has been going on for about half an hour. It’s come and gone in waves but Matty’s getting more and more desperate and more persistent.

“Please baby, please.” Matty pouts, looking pained now, “I need you.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, in yet another way of questioning him. His arms are tight around your waist, not letting you move from straddling his lap because he thinks that will be how he gets his way.

“You’re being so needy.” You smirk, shaking your head, not giving in to his pitiful pleas.

“Please, please, please.” He looks like he could start crying and it takes everything in you not to laugh. You try and push yourself up off him but he grips your hips even tighter, not letting you move an inch away.

“Matty.” You sigh, your hands resting on his shoulders as you tell him, “I can’t.”

“You can.” Matty changes tactics then and leans in and kisses his way up your neck until he’s whispering in your ear, “Please baby, I really want you to come.”

“No,” You grab a handful of his curls then and pull him back so you can look at him and say, “I can’t come on tour with you Matty.”

Your boyfriend whines, “But you said before I even asked the question that you don’t have anything planned until you go to Copenhagen in February. And you’re coming to half the fucking dates anyway. Please.”

“I will be in the way.” You shake your head.

He promises, “You won’t!”

“Matty, I would be like a spare part, not to mention your tour bus would be full to the brim if I tagged along.” You shake your head, not seeing at all how he could change your mind.

“You wouldn’t,” He frowns, silently scorning you for thinking like that before a hint of a grin comes to his face as he says, “And you’d be sleeping in my bunk, with me.”

“That's going to be so comfy,” You roll your eyes, “Two tall people in a coffin sized bunk for more than two weeks.”

“Thanks for admitting I’m tall baby, but listen.” He looks all proud of himself for his height for a second before he goes into getting his points across again, “We’re in hotels in Cardiff and back home for Manchester so it’s only like a week on the bus really.”

“The bus isn’t the issue Matty.” You sigh, giving him the honest answer, “The issue is I’ll be in the way, feeling useless.”

The bunk wouldn’t be an issue for you at all. You both practically sit on each other's lap when you’re with no other company anyway so sharing a small bed will be the least of your worries. You just know that you’ll feel useless and that you’re a hindrance to things running smoothly.

“Charli’s coming,” Matty raises his eyebrows, “You saying she’s useless?”

“She has musical value.” Your excuses fall easily from your lips, but you can’t help but smile at the way he’s begging, “Can’t you just be happy with me coming to the dates I’m already coming to. You’ll see me every five days.”

“So there's absolutely no reason you can’t see me for the other four in between.” Matty acts playfully annoyed, saying that through his teeth before he leans in to kiss you. “Besides, you really think you’re coming to the gig and then I just leave you that night? Absolutely not… I have needs.”

“You have my Instagram.” You backchat and Matty groans loudly.

There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips as he says, “Whilst I love that you put your Golden Globes dress on there for me to wank to Y/N, I’d prefer it if you were just there to wank me off instead.”

“So romantic.” You snort in laughter.

“Please, you’re obsessed with me and my boys and my music.” Matty pouts with absolutely no dignity left, “And I’m obsessed with you. Please come on tour with me?”

“You’re right, I am obsessed with you,” You smile, kissing his nose to combat the bad news you’re about to give him, “But no, I’m not coming on tour, and that’s that.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

So, Matty persuaded you to come on tour.

It ended up being as easy as him teasing an orgasm out of you, followed later by three phone calls. The first to Amelia, where he asked for proof that you were free - which you were - and then asked if he could steal her best friend away to join him on tour, and Amelia only laughed but didn’t hesitate at all to say of course.

The second call was to his manager Jamie. Where Matty asked Jamie to explicitly tell you how it was not an issue if you came along, and he even said that you could help their photographer Jordan put together a few social media posts if you really wanted something to do. But you were welcome to come along regardless and that the 1975 family would be lucky to have you.

And the third call was to the queen of pop herself, Miss Charli XCX. And it was Charli who really made you agree to joining them as she pleaded with you to tag along. She jokes how she can’t be the only groupie to come along on tour with them (Carly apparently didn’t count) and if you’re really honest, you just can’t say no to Charli at all. It feels wrong to, so after ten minutes of her and Matty giving you their best arguments, you gave in and agreed to join them.

That evening you and Matty went over to your flat where you packed a large suitcase full of everything you could need, and the next day you were on the tour bus with them heading on the rest of their UK tour. And god, you were so glad you agreed to join them.

There’s never a dull moment in that tour bus, it’s either the lads managing to make everyone laugh with their random occurrences, sharing spliffs turning into funny stories being aired for everyone to laugh at or games that end up in the same interesting way they started as.

Being around for soundcheck felt like you’d won some kind of prize. A glimpse into how it all works is so entertaining for you, not to mention them singing to an empty arena that pretty much just has you, Charli, and Carly in it is so much fun.

There have been so many times that you’ve caught yourself just staring up at them on stage and being in awe all over again. But Matty can’t help but find you so entertaining, you’re either singing loudly along at the barrier before Charli pulls you to dance with her, and he is smiling the whole way through what he usually finds boring and inconvenient.

Matty has absolutely adored having you come along on tour. Your presence alone makes him so much more joyful, and everyone who was present for the beginning of the tour has seen the difference. He feels more himself, more alive, and so much happier. And it’s all down to you.

The boring moments on the tour bus, you made them so much better for him. The hours he had to sit with his vocal steamer on, it made it so much nicer when you were lying with your head in his lap or his in yours. You’d both play with each other's hair, listen to music, and now and again chat to each other and the others. But Matty couldn’t stop grinning the whole time.

Even during the first few performances when you were somewhere lost in the crowd and he couldn’t find you, still you made your presence known to him. The first time it was just accidental though, you had written him a note as everyone was discussing the setlist and you’d slipped it into his pocket as a joke thinking he would notice and check.

Matty, however, hadn’t noticed your sleight of hand in the green room and he later found the note when he reached into his pocket half way through the Being Funny section of the set. He pulled out the crumpled up piece of paper and opened it on stage, accidentally laughing down the microphone when he read your words.

I’m trying this again: play antichrist x Pretty, please xx Picture me pouting at you, how can you say no to that? xoxox

The singer was well aware the crowd of people were confused about the note that they could see on the screens, and his laughter, but all Matty did was pocket the note again (fully intending to keep it) and grab his guitar and start playing the chords to I’m In Love With You.

The next day he caught you putting another note in his pocket but he kept quiet, wanting to read it on stage again as a little reminder of you to look forward too during his set. And it's again before he’s due to play I’m In Love With You that his hand dips into his pocket and he finds the note.

He’s smiling instantly, expecting it to be another note pleading for Antichrist, but instead this one is a little different, yet still entirely you.

I need a hug and six months of sleep x (maybe a kiss too)

When he laughs at this one, he hears George ask what's so funny through his in-ears but he elects to ignore him. Once again just picking up his guitar and singing the entirety of I’m In Love With You with a huge grin on his face.

The 3rd time it’s Cardiff night 2 and when he reads the note that night he knows you’ve done it on purpose. You’re a fucking menace who loves to tease him even when you’re not in his presence. As that night the note read:

You better think of me on that settee x

He didn’t laugh that night, no instead his dick twitched and he was reminded about your morning in the hotel and how you were both interrupted before anything could happen (you fell straight asleep as soon as you got in bed the night before) and you had been subtly teasing him all day. Whispering things in his ear, leaving longing touches on him knowing he couldn’t react how he would if the two of you were alone, and then the note.

He didn’t need you to explicitly instruct him to think of you during consumption, as he always did anyway. But this time he put a little more effort into his performance, hoping to tease you a little in the crowd.

And tease you he did. That night you watched as he teased himself on screen, smoking and letting his hands trail down his body until he squeezed himself through his trousers, and your mouth went dry with want when he simulated pulling on someone's hair. On your hair.

Needless to say that when you got back to the hotel room that night, you were on your back almost instantly, Matty’s head dipping between your thighs until you were on the verge of coming undone on his tongue. But he edged you time and time again until you were whimpering, pleading for him to fuck you like no one else could.

It was lucky you were spending another night at the hotel really because Matty doesn’t know what he would have done if you were both stuck not being able to find any relief until another two days' time when you were due in Glasgow. Thankfully he didn’t have to find out. You both alleviated the tension between you that night and again the following morning before you all returned to the bus to start the long drive up to Glasgow on their off day.

The journey wasn’t so bad, you got to have a good laugh with the band, especially loving the time you got to spend with Adam and Carly’s little boy. You got to play with him when he wasn’t down for a nap and Matty loved every second of seeing you and his nephew interact.

You remember that afternoon, Carly had just changed the baby after he woke up from his nap and she’d let you have him. One of your favourite things to do with him was sit him down on your lap and read him one of his little books he had and let him blabber on and on as he tried to copy the words you were saying. But he had started crying in the middle of you trying to get him to say ‘orange’ and you couldn’t find a reason for why he was so upset.

Uncle Matty had come to the rescue and got him from you, and it was when he picked him up that he realised he needed another change, so you went with him to change the baby’s nappy.

It was going so well, you distracting baby Hann keeping him happy and calm as Matty changed him, but Matty made the awful mistake of letting him hold the baby powder. It was once he splayed out the new nappy under him, the baby waved his arms happily at the freedom, Matty had been bathed in talcum powder.

Matty immediately froze, face and hair covered in white, his top had a few streaks of white powder sticking to it and baby Hann had managed to get some on his little chest and arm but he had giggled loudly with you when you cackled at the situation.

Blowing harshly to get rid of the talcum off his lips, Matty huffed out a soft, “I didn’t know it was open.” which amused you even more, doubling over in laughter but taking away the powder bottle from the baby’s hands so he wouldn’t continue making a mess.

Your boyfriend loved to pride himself in doing everything right so you’d taken the mishap to tease him a bit, “Uncle Matty struggling for once, who would’ve thought?”

He’d only rolled his eyes at you, and you watched out of the corner of your eye how he rubbed the powder off himself as you wiped it off the baby and finished changing his nappy.

When you’d gone back to the lounge with everyone and placed a happy again baby Hann on your lap and continued trying to get him to say the names to different fruits, you found him looking at you with adoring eyes.

But not even the sparkle in his eye would make you forget what had happened, so, letting the baby speak gibberish as he harshly pointed at the banana on the book’s page, you turned to Matty and sighed, “I wish I had taken a picture.”

His smile had fallen and he glared at you before rolling his eyes to chat back sarcastically, “I’m sure you do.”

And the rest of the day you had made a joke of ruffling his hair swearing there was some more talcum powder left. The last time you do this, he ends up telling you it’s just his grey hairs and you exaggerate a gasp, pretending like you’ve just now realised.

“Right, I forgot you’re an actual grandad.” You sucked air through your teeth like the fact was making you wince.

But then he went all cute when he flipped it around by reminding you, “And you’re a grandma so it’s meant to be, really.”

A chuckle was your response, which died quickly when he pressed his lips on yours to kiss you sweetly, half to shut you up and half because he’d been dying to for the past few minutes.

That afternoon, both of you ended up catching some alone time, which was really nice when you’re on a bus with sixteen other people. You’re in the back lounge listening to one of your many playlists, both with an AirPod in each ear and lying on the back settee with Matty behind you while you’re watching as the world goes by as you travel further north.

You’re sitting between Matty’s legs, your back against his chest and you both occasionally catch yourselves singing or humming along to the music. Matty wouldn’t change the scenario for the world, he gets to lie there with you against him, kissing the top of your head whenever he feels like, and he absentmindedly plays with the end of your hair.

The singer doesn’t even mind when one of his songs starts up, he finds it amusing that you have absolutely no shame with it being on there. And knowing now that it’s one of your new favourites he even loves hearing you softly sing along.

“Do you think that I’ve forgotten?” You quietly sing, “Do you think that I’ve forgotten? Do you think that I’ve forgotten, about you?”

Hearing that though makes Matty frown, and he waits until you sing it again as confirmation. His biggest fan in the world and now also his girlfriend, has got the lyrics wrong.

He’s trying not to laugh when he gets your attention, “Baby?”

“Yeah.” You ask, tilting your head back a little to look up at him.

He looks really pretty with the way the dimming light is hitting his face through the window. His skin is like it's glowing with the way the sun shines on him, and you find yourself thinking you’re so lucky again especially with the way he’s smiling at you.

Matty can’t help but smirk, “You know you’re getting the lyrics to that wrong, right?”

“No I’m not.” Instantly you frown up at him, entirely defensive.

“Yes,” Matty tries not to laugh, “You are.”

Your frown deepens, your whole face scrunching up as you ask, “Which bit?”

“The main bit,” He tells you, “Do you think I have forgotten… you’re singing ‘do you think that I've forgotten’.”

“They’re the lyrics.” You nod, looking at him like he’s stupid.

He can’t stop himself from chuckling, “No they’re not, baby.”

“Yeah, they are,” You nod, sitting up a little and turning to look at him properly, “I’ve been singing that since the album dropped.”

“Y/N,” Matty grins, entirely amused by you not believing him, “I wrote the song, I think I know the lyrics.”

At that you scoff, “You literally tell people that they are brave for getting lyrics tattooed because you have a tendency for changing them.”

You have a point there to be fair. So Matty just nods down to your phone and tells you to, “Listen to the song again then if you don’t believe me.”

So you do, you start About You again and when you really listen to the lyrics, the little shit might be right. But you’re not having it still, and your denial only makes this even funner to Matty.

You huff when the song ends, still frowning, “As soon as this bus stops we’re going to HMV so I can buy a CD or a vinyl or something so I can see the lyrics.”

“Baby.” Matty says knowingly, whilst grinning like a fool.

“No,” But you’re not having it, “I don’t believe it until I see it officially in the lyrics in the album.”

“Y/N,” Your boyfriend tries to remind you, “I literally wrote the song.”

“And yet I don't trust you even a little bit.” You say, getting yourself up and giving him a snarky smile before you pinch the airpod out of his ear and head back to the others in the main lounge.

On your way you can hear Matty laughing but he doesn’t say anything when he enters the room a moment later. All that he does is grin, knowing he’s right for once, and the grin stays on his face for another hour until you’re pulling him off the bus and into the bustling city centre.

You had to be quick, getting your shoes and coats on and into an anonymous enough state that you wouldn’t be recognised. Well, mostly Matty, hip putting his hood up instantly wrapping himself up in his big coat with sunglasses on as the light was starting to disappear. You did feel like an idiot when he put sunglasses on you too, but then he reminded you that you were keeping your relationship out of everyone else's business for now so he even pulled up your hood too.

You were on a mission to reach HMV before it closed and thankfully you got there with about 20 minutes to spare. It was nice walking hand in hand with Matty though, and chatting about what was going on around you and all the stuff that you liked that you saw in different shop windows.

Matty tried to suggest you go in and have a look before everything closes but you pulled him along with you until you were inside HMV and had a CD of Being Funny In A Foreign Language in your hands. Your boyfriend finds you adorable when you had a grin on your face when you picked it up, as if it wasn’t going to be on the shelf. He can’t help but smile at you.

But his smile falls from his face when you walk up to the A section and pick up a copy of AM and tell him, “I’m going to get Flo to get him to sign it for me.”

Matty just shakes his head and pulls you along to the till, wanting more time wandering around while the shops were still open. Once you handed over the CDs, thankfully Matty managed not to let you pay for them as he beat you to getting his phone on the card machine, something which you scorned him for until you were out of the shop and he shut you up with a kiss.

With the rest of the evening free, you and Matty ended up having an impromptu date. You ended up walking to the Cineworld which wasn’t a far walk and you ended up going to watch M3GAN as there weren't many other good options. This you thankfully ended up paying for, much to Matty’s dismay, but you reminded him that you said you would be paying on the next date so you got your drinks and popcorn too.

Both of you sat in the back corner where you happily remained undetected by anyone and Matty couldn’t stop smiling at the fact he got to hold your hand for the entirety of the film. Even if the film was mediocre at best, he was glad he got to chuckle away with it with you by his side.

Only when you both made it back to the bus just after 10:30, did you find that it was just Adam, Carly, and baby still on board, as everyone else had gone out drinking. They were watching a film in the back lounge so you and Matty just said a quick hello before keeping to yourselves.

There was a quick conversation about possibly going to join the others but Matty didn’t want to. He selfishly wanted you all to himself for a while longer. It's when you get your shit out of your bag that you notice the CDs that until now have remained untouched. You pull Being Funny out with a smile and turn to your boyfriend who’s already noticed what you have and is smirking at you, waiting expectantly.

You’re eager to wipe that look from his face so you sit down beside him and carefully take the CD out of the sleeve it comes in and you pick out the lyrics sheet. Finding About You is easy but then your world crumbles, you’re wrong.

Do you think I have forgotten about you?

Matty cackles when your face falls and you just silently fold the sheet back up and slip it back beside the CD with a look of defeat on your face. Your boyfriend pulls you into him and you fall into his chest as you stubbornly stay rigid in his arms.

He giggles, “I told you so.”

You push yourself out of his grasp, jokingly keeping the annoyed facade going and you push the cd into his chest as you get up, “You can sign it now for that comment, dick.”

“Aw,” Matty coos and throws the CD to the table. He jokes as he wraps his arms around you, still wanting to laugh, “Knew you were only with me to make money on Ebay.”

“Got that right.” You nod and Matty just cackles as he places kisses on your cheeks.

The following night in Glasgow when soundchecking, Matty pulled you onto the stage with him as he sang the correct version of About You, and he pulled you around the ‘house’ with him. And you pretending not to be impressed lasted about 10 seconds because you just ended up grinning and singing along the entire time.

Even more so when he had you kneel down on the floor in front of the table and he stood on it and reached down with his microphone to put it against your chin, exactly like he did to the girl in the Robbers music video. Needless to say, you got all flustered but you played your part anyway, even sticking your tongue out like the girl did in the video and Matty let his fingers dance across your tongue for a second.

When you knelt back on your ankles, so you could sing along with Polly, Matty then got down and sat on the edge of the table and he slowly leant in to kiss you. “Having fun?” He mouthed and you gently nodded until his lips took yours. It felt magical kissing him on stage, especially because you knew it all felt a little bit meta with it looking exactly like the Robbers video as he was singing the follow up to it.

That night on stage at the actual show, your note made Matty laugh, reminding him of yesterday with the talcum powder incident with his nephew.

Greys looking beautiful tonight grandad x

The Glasgow crowd was great, you loved every single second of being in that crowd. You spent a bit of your time with Jordan that night, going to different places with him and watching him take pictures from afar before you ultimately made yourself at home in the pit.

You thought that this being your 6th show, you would have somehow found it less painful to leave the pit during Give Yourself A Try, but it’s not. It still pains you each time you do it, but thankfully you can still hear it when you disappear off to head backstage with Jamie.

It ends up being an hour and a half before you end up back on the bus, and that night you were heading straight down to Manchester. Somewhere you’re really eager to go because you’d only been a handful of times and you really didn’t know the ins and outs of the city like Matty does, so when he promised you a tour you got really excited at the thought. You couldn’t wait till tomorrow to get there.

But it was that night on the bus when you needed to squeeze out of the bunk to get yourself a drink that you noticed your tote from the previous day was folded up on the table. You grab it, intending to put it in the mesh pocket of yours and Mattys bunk so you don’t lose it, but instead you feel CDs. And that’s when you remember your purchases.

You take them out, smiling when you see AM, knowing Flo will find it funny that you bought it. But it’s when you see Being Funny that you’re a little shocked and your heart doubles in size.

Never for a second did you think Matty would actually sign the CD for you, but he did sign his name in the top right hand corner with three kisses underneath it. But it’s what he’s written on the left side that has you melting.

// Be A Riot //

It’s then that you know that the man who wrote that for you is probably the most special person in your life, as even though it may seem like such a simple lyric to write, it means so much more. You fully allow yourself to give in to every little happiness he brings you from that moment on, and it starts with you going back to your bunk and plastering hundreds of kisses across his face before you settle down and whisper to each other just how obsessed you are and falling asleep in each other's arms.

~*~*~*~ 20th January ~*~*~*~

Manchester is so much fun, especially with Matty by your side. He really is the best tour guide, and he had been everywhere else you’d been, but he seems to come alive in his hometown.

He holds your hand the entire time, both of you dressed in your disguises so no one spots you wondering around the day of their gig. It made you giggle at the amount of people in 1975 tops that you passed but thankfully Matty evaded detection.

You felt like you were watching your boyfriend's Zane Lowe interview all over again because Matty took you around the same places the video showed. But it was so much fun with Matty explaining to you properly and in detail the shit that he and the boys got up to when they were younger.

First he takes you around the Northern Quarter, he shows you the square of bars that will be heaving later on that night and he shows you the spot where he wrote The City back in the day and you don’t even try and hide your smile from him.

Going to Afflecks and seeing their poster up on the wall surrounded by so many other posters of musical legends fills your heart and you can’t help yourself taking a quick picture of it to keep for yourself.

You were gutted you couldn’t take a picture with it but when you look up the stairs to the right and you catch a glimpse of a photo booth, you almost drag Matty upstairs with you so you can freely take a picture together without risking getting caught.

He’s faster than you when he pays for the pictures once you’re inside and the curtain’s drawn, and you both quickly put your hoods down and take off your sunglasses so that you don’t take pictures in your disguises.

At first you think 6 poses is going to be a job for you to come up with in less than 5 seconds in between pictures but your boyfriend makes you giggle so much that it comes natural when you mess about in front of the camera.

Matty’s cute though, cupping your jaw and giving you a sweet kiss for the last one and when you see them all printed, you melt in his arms. He steals one last kiss as you finish getting yourselves back into your disguises and you make sure to carefully put the photo strips away before you walk out of the booth.

Before you have to go back to the venue for soundcheck, he takes you to Gorilla and when you get there he tells you what he has planned for the gig they’re going to have there.

He nonchalantly says, “We’re doing all of self titled.” and you gasp loudly in response.

“What?!” Is the only thing you can say after that information has been dumped on you.

Matty chuckles in amusement, “Yeah… Thought you’d like that news.”

“Not when I have a trip to Copenhagen planned for Amelia’s Birthday!” You hide your face in your hands and take a deep breath before asking, “Deluxe version or just the regular version?”

“What happens if I say deluxe…” Matty taunts you with a smirk, but when you drop your hands and glare at him very seriously, he presses his lips together not to laugh.

“You better not.” It’s all you warn him with, even the thought of that happening makes you sick.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest, dropping a kiss on your cheek and then one on the corner of your mouth and right before he can trap your lips in a sweet kiss, he whispers, “The regular version.”

You allow yourself to melt into him for a bit, but when his tongue teases your bottom lip, you pull away to make him suffer a bit for what you’re going to miss soon. Your hand comes up to his cheek and you pat it softly, “It better be.”

Going back to the venue was a bit more hectic than you expected, you had to be very careful with not getting caught by the big queue of fans lining up outside the venue for the show. But once inside, thanks to Mark and Scott being the absolute best, being around everyone again is a relief. A newfound sense of familiarity that you’re growing to cherish, therefore you’re dreading the end of tour in only 10 days.

When you walk out to watch the lads on stage and you see Charli up there with them, George guiding her into the house through the door and showing her the way around, your jaw drops.

“Are you the surprise tonight?!” You ask loudly, your hand hovering over your mouth in shock.

Charli offers you a smirk and nods, “Yes baby!”

You squeal in excitement, and watch as she quickly rehearses what her entrance will be like. She puts on a little show for you as she sings a few scattered lines of Vroom Vroom into a microphone that doesn’t play through the speakers. Of course she couldn’t soundcheck properly so that no one could hear and ruin the surprise, but she trusted that it would go smoothly when the time came for her to walk in on stage.

Carly, Charli and you are standing against the barricade fence after your pop star friend has finished her brief rehearsal and you watch the lads soundcheck with a big smile on your faces.

Their banter makes you all laugh, and you all join in taking the piss of each other here and there. When your boyfriend taps his trouser’s pocket with his brows raised, you know it’s his silent way to ask about getting a note tonight and you wink at him in response. A cute blush rises on his cheeks and his voice grows sweeter when he starts singing the chorus to Oh Caroline when he’s instructed through his in-ears.

Your note makes him giggle as he flushes from head to toe, he can feel his cheeks warm and that feeling you give him envelops him entirely. A bubble of happiness bursts inside him and it coats every inch of him, all because you said…

Obsessed with you x

He sings with a bit more intent after that. The fact that it’s Manchester they’re playing in and that he wants to impress you even more, makes for his voice to come out beautifully sultry and you’re left in awe hearing him come to life on stage.

Like you expected, Amelia was shocked to the core when you facetime her with the little bit of signal you get as Charli is about to walk on stage, and you all but scream the lyrics out along with the pop queen and the rest of the crowd.

After that the gig just kept getting better though. Your boyfriend got a Greggs sausage roll thrown at him and he was giggling as he picked it up and took a bite and then spat it out. It certainly gave everyone a laugh, the band included, and they continued their set.

When the gig finishes and you head back to the greenroom, Matty comes all sweaty to you and traps you in a hug that then turns to him wrapping an arm around your waist and using his other hand to cup your jaw and pull you in for a dizzying kiss.

“Obsessed with you too.” Matty says once he pulls back, his forehead pressed against yours and nudging your nose with his in a cute eskimo kiss.

He feels as you scrunch up your nose and you lean in for another quick kiss, humming into it as a sign of approval. You don’t think you’ll ever grow tired of hearing him say those words to you, it always manages to make you putty in his hands.

Drinking with everyone and enjoying the wave of energy after the show is so fulfilling every time. An excuse to celebrate the band’s talent and their continuous delivery on a great show. So it’s easy to let time fly by as you do: cracking jokes, laughing at the guys’ occurrences, sharing their funny views of the crowd, talking about how mental it had gotten when Charli came out.

Soon enough it’s time to leave the venue but you’re surprised when you get to the bus and your boyfriend tells you to get your stuff because you’re staying somewhere else tonight.

You were expecting a hotel room to be the destination but when you sit in the back of the Uber Matty has ordered, he tells you with a massive grin that the plan for tonight is, “We’re staying at Denise’s.”

Matty doesn’t miss the way your face lights up at the news and he feels your heating cheeks when you hide your face in the crook of his neck with a soft squeal of excitement only he hears.

It takes about half an hour to get to Denise’s house so when you walk through the front door, you find her half asleep waiting for you to get there. She greets you sweetly, this time remembering your name instead of calling you ‘chicken nugget date girl’, and only after a few minutes of small talk she excuses herself to go to bed.

Lincoln isn’t far behind her, making everyone a brew before he goes upstairs to join his wife who’s probably already asleep despite him making her a cup of tea too. Louis chats with the both of you a little more before he calls it a night too.

Your boyfriend doesn’t waste more time after his family leaves to drag you upstairs, promising he’d show you around tomorrow. He was also knackered and he had wanted to have you all to himself for ages now, so it’s very quick that you find yourself walking into his childhood bedroom and smiling at the glimpse into a younger Matty’s mind.

You look at the pictures he has on the walls, of the four boys among other friends who he went to school with or met at various parties. You spotted Flo in a few of them too and it’s so adorable to you that you get a glimpse into the people they used to be.

You were smiling and asking questions about them all, even telling Matty that a photobooth picture of him and Flo from when they clearly first got together was cute. You like that he hasn’t shut off that part of his life and the picture is still up, because after all his experiences have made him into the man who he is today.

Matty smiles at the memory of it but he just takes the photobooth picture that the two of you took today and puts it up in a free spot on his wall. That warms your heart deeply, you can’t stop grinning as the both of you then get settled.

The singer jumps on his bed, flopping down on it and you giggle watching his hair flying everywhere and eventually coming to rest almost over his eyes. Matty just lets out a long sigh, clearly loving the feeling of lying on a proper bed again and you must admit you can’t wait to join him.

Matty makes no effort to get himself undressed, other than kicking off his shoes and socks and pulling his tie even looser. Instead he watches you, not even bothering to hide how much he’s grinning as he watches you make yourself at home in his room.

His grin only gets bigger when he watches you get undressed and he mutters under his breath how fucking good you look which just makes you flush a little but you choose to mostly ignore him and instead ask for one of his tops. He points over to a drawer where he knows there will be some and he smiles watching as you pull out his Revelation Records original bold top and slip it on.

You finish changing and come to sit down on his bed, grabbing your skincare stuff and start blindly applying it to yourself. That is until Matty exaggeratedly coughs a few times clearly expectantly as he wants you to do his too like you’ve been doing every night you’ve been away.

He’s all smiles as you rub the various creams into his face, even kissing the palm of your hand and then over the tattoo on your wrist followed by a small thank you when you finish. After that though he puckers his lips at you, and you giggle as you scooch down the bed and get comfy enough to kiss him how he wants.

Your heart feels very full, being in your boyfriends childhood bedroom, kissing him goodnight after he’s put on an excellent hometown show, with only the warm light of his bedside lamp letting you see just how big his smile gets. It’s really difficult for your heart not to stretch to a certain place too early, but you love everything about this new relationship despite only being in it for such a short amount of time.

But with him kissing you so sweetly, how he always does, and him pulling you into him so you’ve got practically no space between you, it’s not a shock he always makes your heart stutter. You love getting lost kissing him, it’s certainly a favourite pastime of yours.

And you love the feeling of your fingers tangled in his hair, how he clutches you tighter when you do to his curls and the groans he lets out when you pull on them.

You do just that and just like you were expecting, his mouth hangs open for a second when he lets out a groan. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, giddy from the affection and the realisation of how you’re growing to anticipate his actions.

The sound of your bubbly laugh lights up a spark inside him. The walls of the dam that contains all that he feels for you burst and it all comes pouring hot and sticky, melting his insides and flipping a switch that makes him eager to translate the mess of his emotions into something you can understand.

He presses your lips a bit harder then, hips bucking forward and pressing in between your parted legs which has you gasping. Your tongues meet and taste each other when he catches his chance to do so, fingers digging into your skin as his hold grows with intention.

Matty doesn’t want to let you go. He doesn’t think he ever will.

But he won’t get ahead of himself. He wants to make you feel good, like you do to him with just your presence, with the simple sweetness of your laughter, the warmth of your touch, your silly jokes at his expense. He could go on and on, every day adding a new thing to the list.

In your head, a very different train of thought is going on. You’re entirely too aware of where you are and who is in the same space as you, so feeling him getting increasingly eager about getting off with you, you have to be the one to cut things before they move past a point of no return.

“Matty.” You smile, knowing where this road leads and it’s not somewhere the both of you can go in his childhood bedroom.

“Mmmh.” He hums against your lips, keeping them against yours not wanting to stop kissing you at all.

You repeat yourself, “Matty,” this time hoping he takes the hint.

He reluctantly pulls away, quickly asking, “What?” as he pecks your lips a few more times.

You’re grinning as you tell him with knowing eyes, “Calm down.”

But that makes your boyfriend frown a little, “What’s wrong?”

“We’re in your Mum's house.” You remind him, almost finding it funny he forgot, “She'll hear us. Your whole family will hear us.”

“No they won’t.” Matty shakes his head, knowing he’s not been caught out before so he doesn’t expect he will now. “Relax, I wanna make you feel good baby.”

“Matty.” You try to reason with him, still not entirely sold on the idea.

The sheer embarrassment of Denise knowing you’ve shagged her son in her house a mere 20 days after first getting with him is something you don’t think you could ever live down. You’re aware she’s a legend and a lovely person so she would probably never comment on it even if she did hear you, but you don't know if you could handle the embarrassment of being looked at with knowing eyes.

“Come on, I know you can bite those pretty lips to stop yourself being loud.” Matty grins, dragging his thumb over your already puffy bottom lip. “Can you do that for me baby?”

Instinctively you nod, always wanting to be good for him, but then you realise what you’ve just agreed to, “But-”

Matty’s already chuckling at you giving in and then catching yourself. As soon as he sees that nod of yours he moves his hand from your hip to between your legs and feels that you’ve soaked through your underwear which makes his jaw lock and your ‘but’ catch in your throat and whine.

Your boyfriend starts drawing circles over your clit through your underwear and if he didn’t have the confirmation of what you want already, the buck of your hips into his hand certainly gave it to him. And Matty can’t fucking wait to have you unravel underneath him again, he’s dying to at this point.

Your boyfriend kisses you sweetly again as if he’s not already doing anything sinful, “You gonna let me make you feel good?”

You nod a little in his hold, “Yeah.” pleasure already creeping its way up your spine.

“Good girl.” He smirks before kissing you deeply once more, before pulling away and telling you to, “Relax.”

But there's only so much relaxing you can do when a man is kissing his way down your body, heading to where you want him desperately.

Your boyfriend teases you beyond belief, that sinful tongue of his licking up your already soaked underwear just to make you choke on your breath and bite your bottom lip harder before he decides he wants to play with you a little more. After pulling your underwear off, you expect him to go straight to where you’re already throbbing for him, but no.

Matty decides that now is the time to appreciate a woman’s thighs. Slowly he kisses, licks, and bites his way down your skin, building your anticipation again and again until your hips gain a mind of their own and start bucking towards him, it makes Matty chuckle at the same time you plead for him to stop teasing you.

Only after you beg him once more does he give you what you want. Matty laps at your clit like a man starved, knowing exactly how to tease you now and he smirks to himself when your thighs tremble beside his head before dipping his tongue down to drink you in again.

He notices the way you’re holding your moans to yourself, huffing as he flicks your swollen clit with a skilled tongue, your teeth digging harshly on your bottom lip to quiet your whines when he sucks on your clit.

A pop slices the struggling silence in the room when he pulls back, and you find how at the pressure of keeping quiet, his praise heightens your need by a tenfold. “So good for me baby.” His words fall sweetly from his lips, lashes fluttering as he looks up to you and you nod in agreement, hips writhing as an attempt to get him back to what he was doing.

“Think you can hold those pretty sounds as you cum on my tongue.” Your boyfriend says next, dropping a string of kisses on your inner thigh, taking the opportunity to dig his teeth on your skin as if pushing you to the edge and see how much you can take until you break your silence.

You nod frantically, your eyes closed, teeth biting down hard on your bottom lip only letting the tiniest hum of confirmation spill. And you’re sure Matty smirks again before he moves back to your core, only giving you a few seconds of teasing when his hot breath hits your core and you squirm at the feeling.

His wet and bold tongue comes to meet your dripping centre and it’s a blinding feeling of relief and tightening pleasure that just promises to drive you insane. You’re almost holding your breath so that you don’t make a noise but the faster he becomes in his movements on your clit, the more you fail. Your breath grows heavy and it starts leaving you in gasps, hands clawing at the sheets of the bed so tightly so you don’t let your whines slip past your lips.

Senses go into overdrive, all you can see is white behind your eyelids but your ears are catching so well the wet sounds of his mouth on your slick cunt. Your hips become erratic when the coil in the pit of your stomach tightens to an eye-watering degree.

All he can think of as he watches you writhe beneath him is the word mine. He watches his stunning girlfriend losing her mind at the way his tongue moves. He can't help but stare at the way his girlfriend’s chest rapidly rises and falls as he can see the way her hard nipples stand against the fabric of his top before you use your free hand to tease yourself. You’re all his and Matty forces himself to commit the moment to memory, banking it up for another inevitable lonely tour night when you won't be able to join him.

A breathy and desperate, “Matty, f-fuck,” reaches his ears and, along with your shaking legs and your white knuckle grip on the sheets, it lets him know you’re about to let go. So he hums, encouraging you to give it all to him. And the vibration of it is just what you needed for that tension to snap.

Matty can’t tear his eyes away as you cum on his tongue, your flushed chest heaving as your breaths become messy and your back arches. The taste of you mixed with the sight of you makes him grind his hips harder into his bed, needing that slight bit of stimulation himself.

You come down with a few gasps at the feeling of his tongue still teasing you, sore fingers letting go of the bedding to tug on his curls and pull him away. He looks up, a devilish grin plastered on his face showing he’s proud of what he’s achieved before he dips back down, cleaning up the mess he’s made.

The tight grasp you have on his hair doesn’t deter him, if only it encourages him and you’re left focusing on not making noise instead. You’re biting your tongue so hard just so you don’t make a loud noise but you’re struggling a lot so you just beg, “Matty, please,” as you tug on his locks once more and thankfully he listens.

You pull on his curls until he moves with you and he crawls back up your body. It’s a messy kiss you pull him into, tasting yourself on his tongue has you whining and wanting more of him.

Matty rocks himself into you a few times and the friction of it on your overstimulated clit has you gasping. He’s hard, probably enough for it to begin to be painful, so you break your kiss to ask him, “Do you want me to give you head?”

He kisses you again, his hips grinding against you again, and when you groan he kisses your neck he whispers, “I want to be inside you.”

God, you really want that too, but you know you can’t. “No.” You shake your head.

Matty chuckles, pulling up to ask with a grin of disbelief, as if he can’t feel how wet you’ve already got again through his pants. He teases, “You don’t want to shag me baby?”

He kisses down your neck, bruising his way down your skin drawing short moans out of you as you pull on his hair, wanting him to continue. But then you remember where you are, “Matty, everyone’s gonna hear.”

You only just kept quiet as he was giving you head. You’re going to be absolutely done for if he fucks you too.

“Not if you trust me.” Matty locks eyes with you as he asks, “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” You nod, not trusting anyone more than him at this point.

He grins, pulling on your top a little, “Take this off for me then baby.”

You do as you're told and strip off your top as Matty sheds himself of his clothes. He dumps his tie and his shirt where he was previously lay beside you before getting up to pull his pants and underwear down.

Pressing your thighs together when you see just how hard you’ve made your boyfriend is little relief. Matty’s busy gawking at your body though, aching even more than he was without his restrictive clothing. He pumps himself twice, his breath catching as he does but he can’t stop when he looks at you lying on his bed like that.

Your boyfriend goes to move back to the bed but you shake your head, telling him, “Condom.”

“Thought we scrapped those?” He asks with a curious smile.

You tell him sternly, “I’m not having us make a mess and look at your Mum's face as we put the sheets in the wash.”

It almost makes Matty chuckle, instead he just smiles, “Okay baby.” before routing in his bag to find one.

Matty puts it on with ease before he finds his home perched back between your legs. And considering you ‘didn’t want him to fuck you’, he almost finds it comical how desperate you’re looking beneath him right now.

Your boyfriend kisses you deeply again, you can still taste yourself on his tongue and that along with the way he holds your jaw has you moaning against those sinful lips of his.

The kiss only gets messier as it goes, your hands desperately clutching onto him as he presses himself on you. The heaviness of his cock presses and rubs on your clit as his hips move, in a desperate attempt to chase your second orgasm, you move your hips in tune and it just feels too good for your mind to remember you’re supposed to be quiet.

He chuckles against your lips before he pulls away completely, his hips pulling away as well make you whine at the loss of the delicious friction. But you peel your eyes open to see what he’s doing, thinking that he’s doing this to edge you.

You watch as Matty reaches to the side and you see him grab his tie. He wraps it over the knot that's already in it a few times which makes you ask, “What are you doing?”

“Keeping you quiet.” Your boyfriend smirks, “Open.”

Your stomach drops, realising what that means, and you do as you're told. Matty sees the way your eyes get that little bit darker as he puts his tie in your mouth.

When he comes back close to you, pressing himself against you again, he watches your teeth digging into the fabric in your mouth, a moan being muffled by the tie so he smirks seeing that it works.

“Good girl.” Matty praises you, leaning in to have his face hover above yours and watch every little detail on your face as he finally goes to fill you up.

His right hand goes down to guide himself to your centre, teasing your clit by rubbing it with the tip of his cock which elicits a mewl that’s drowned by the fabric on your mouth. He’s enjoying it far too much, the visual of you gagged underneath him and almost desperate to have him inside you makes Matty impossibly hard.

Slowly he stretches you out, biting on his bottom lip as he goes further and when he feels your nails scratching his back as he bottoms out, Matty grabs your arms and pins your wrists over your head. He crosses them so he can keep them in place with his left hand but before he starts moving, he asks for confirmation that you’re not uncomfortable with what he’s just done, “This okay baby?”

Your hasty nodding is entirely amusing to him, he loves seeing you surrendered to him like this. He pulls his hips back the furthest he can without completely exiting you and in a strong swift movement, he bottoms out again.

Slow and hard, that’s the pace he sets and it has your eyes rolling back in pleasure. You had never been gagged before but you find yourself really enjoying it, the thrill of having to have your mouth stuffed with his tie not to get caught has you even more turned on. And adding your hands being pinned over your head as your boyfriend pounds into you, is enough to have you a mess of muffled moans and whines.

Just thinking of the situation has you clenching hard around him and he doesn’t let it go unnoticed, “Oh you like this?” Matty smirks, “Such a whore, aren’t you?”

He feels your thighs tighten around his hips, clearly enjoying being called a whore and it makes his smirk more prominent. His eyes are full of lust as he asks, “Just want me to ruin you, is that right?”

Nodding desperately, you need everything from him now. Your hips buck at him when he does that and you whine a little on the material keeping you quiet. Matty kisses your neck a few times then, and you can feel his smirk, clearly loving having you exactly at his mercy. And you can’t even pretend you’re not loving it either.

“Fuck baby.” Your boyfriend heavily breathes, his eyes darkening that little bit more feeling just how tight you are wrapped around him. “You look so good. Feel fucking amazing.”

He fucks into you mercilessly, quickly finding the angle that has you almost thrashing beneath him and he knows he’s found your g spot. You can’t even meet his thrusts anymore, the knot of pleasure in your lower stomach is almost too much and the blinding heat that stirs inside you has you biting hard on his tie.

Your eyes screw shut and head throws back further into the pillow as he continues whispering vulgar things about how he loves having you like this into your ear and teasing you about just how much you’re enjoying it.

“Come on baby, I can feel you’re close. Cum for me.” Matty says as he kisses just under your ear, biting your earlobe and dragging between his teeth before sucking on the part of your neck that he knows makes you weak. “Please baby, be a good girl and let go for me.”

And it doesn’t take much more than the promise of praise and his hips meeting yours over and over to have you finishing. It hits you and it’s like a blinding white heat runs up your body and takes over your senses.

Matty watches you orgasm beneath him, entirely awestruck at the way you lose yourself. It’s lucky he gagged you because you moan loudly as your high takes over and he can only manage a few more thrusts with how tightly you’re clenching around him.

It’s only seconds before he cums too, filling the condom and moaning down your ear which adds to your own orgasm tenfold. He fucks into you a few more times to drag out the pleasure running through you both before he slows and settles himself, freeing your wrists and pulling his tie from your mouth as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

Your arms fall down over his shoulders, entirely weak just like your body feels but you let your fingers run back into his hair when he lifts himself back up looking at you like he’s drunk. You giggle a little before you kiss him and it’s the sweetest sensation after being fucked by him.

Matty grins when he pulls away, and you giggle at each other before Matty leans down and gives you a little eskimo kiss, before again admitting, “I’m obsessed with you.”

Your heart is so full, you don't even hesitate to say back, “Obsessed with you too baby.”

Matty blushes at that which makes you giggle again and you pull on his hair so he comes back for one last kiss. After that you both decide a shower is in order and as Matty disposes of the condom and goes and grabs the both of you a towel, he embarrasses you.

“We’ll have to sneak out tomorrow morning.” He tells you with a small grin on his face.

You ask curiously, “Why?”

“Because that tie did nothing, you were so loud.” Matty tells you, his smile full now.

Your jaw drops at that, thinking back over it and you frown, “No I wasn’t.”

He starts chuckling, disagreeing with you in jest, “So loud baby.”

He just wants to make you sweat a little. You were fine and he knows for certain no one will have heard anything, he just loves getting you flustered.

“I wasn’t, you cheeky sod.” You whine trying your best not to smile and fake annoyance. You pick his tie up and throw it at him as you say, “You’re not all that Healy.”

He laughs, batting the tie away with ease but he tilts his head and narrows his eyes a little, “You say that, but I just gave you two orgasms.”

“And?” You shake your head, letting him know he isn’t god's gift, “So does my vibrator.”

Matty can’t help but think touche, but he opts to tease you instead, “And that's a show I’d definitely like to watch one day.”

Instantly, your face flames and you start glitching. You stumble trying to come up with some backchat but no coherent words form and the moment for you to be slick passes, so you just end up waving for him to leave, “Go and get me a towel, you twat.”

Matty cackles as he leaves the room doing as he's told. Before the both of you know it, you’re in the shower together and even though it should be steamy and hot, it’s probably one of the cutest things either of you have done together.

You’re both giggling and then catching yourselves, mostly you shushing the both of you, as you don’t want to be found out. But despite the both of you not making it interesting in a sinful way, you end up washing the other's hair.

It started with you shampooing his hair, and when it foamed up and his hair went stiff you couldn’t help but giggle when you morphed it into a mohawk. You joke about him looking good until he threatens to cut his curls to bring his mohawk back and you decline his offer with a look that screamed that you would kill him if he did. You tell him not to touch those curls of his.

And when you carry on giggling as you mould his hair into different shapes before you let him rinse it out, Matty can’t help but get a little in his head about everything as he admires you and giggles along.

If society didn’t deem that the two of you were far too early on in your relationship, Matty would get on one knee here and now and properly propose to you because he just genuinely can’t think of anyone better for him. You’re perfect, and the fact you get on like you’ve forever been the best of friends but also have an amazing relationship is the entire package for him.

It might be far too soon, but when you know you know. And Matty has never felt this way so intensely about someone for such a long time, he’d forgotten how it felt to crumble down inside at the sight of someone he felt so much for just existing. The world feels better and brighter when you’re in his presence and you make his heart ache in a way he now knows he’d missed.

After a shower filled with cute kisses, longing touches, and lots of giggles, the both of you get out and head back to his room to dry off. Even when you put his top back on and both get cosy in bed together and you’re just chatting about where he’s going to show you tomorrow, he just holds you close, thanking his lucky stars you came into his life.

Falling asleep to the sound of the other’s voice promises smiles that stay on your faces for a bit until your slumber switches them into pouts, your arms wrapped around each other and fingers clutching tight as if there was a possibility of one of you evaporating if you dared let your hold run loose, legs tangled together and heavy breaths hitting each other’s skin.

Your heart grows in size when you’re in Matty’s arms and you know just how fast and hard you’re falling for him when your brain deems it not enough to have him present daily in front of you, by your side, for he materialises in your dreams and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even in your sleep-driven imaginative scenes he manages to make you a mess of grins that reach your eyes, rumble of butterflies filling your stomach, tingling going to every inch of your body.

And waking up, finding him there still, with his curls a mess over the pillow and those lips you love to kiss up in a pout as he continues to breathe slowly in his sleep, makes you almost feel like you’ve somehow managed to hit the jackpot you’ve silently been praying for your whole life.

To find the one.

And you think you’ve found him. You really hope you have.

~*~*~*~

Being shown around the infamous Wilmslow by your boyfriend was one of the highlights of the whole tour for you. You had such a good time, you already can’t wait to go back for a proper stay there.

The both of you slept in a little that morning, coming downstairs to greet everyone else at 11:30 which after your late night it didn’t seem to surprise anyone. Thankfully it seems no one caught on to what happened in Matty’s childhood bedroom because nothing was said and there was no knowing glances or anything.

You all had a cooked breakfast that Denise and Lincoln made which acted as a lovely brunch, satisfying your hunger for most of your day out. After you all finished your meal and chatting, Matty decided he was showing you around for the day which you were more than happy with.

Denise throwing her suggestions in for where to take you really made you giggle, Matty sighing at a few of them as he was already going to take you there but she apparently ruined the surprise. But you loved that she told him to take you to where he used to work because that did give you a giggle.

Matty gave you the bigger tour first, opting to take the car to show you his and the boys' old high school and he told you so many stories about the shit they all got up to back in the day. You would pay so much money to be a fly on the wall back then and experience it like a film playing out to you.

He showed you his old house that he lived in before he was a teenager, and on the drive he pointed out the other boys' childhood homes, telling you Adam’s house felt like a second home to him and that his Mum, Sue, always felt like his second Mum.

Your journey ends with him taking you to Carrs park where the both of you have a nice long walk together, sharing stories and walking hand in hand as you find out more about each other. Matty tells you of the summers that he and the boys used to come down to the park all the time and on hot days they would mess about in the river.

He tells you about when Flo would come over for summers to stay with Adam in Manchester instead of staying in Sheffield, and about how she apparently always preferred her Aunt and Uncle’s home over her own. That he taught her how to skateboard at the skate park that was also in the park which he showed you and you made him promise that in the summer he would bring you back and show you his skills.

You both walk around the park for just over an hour before you head back to the car, and Matty continues with his tour. This time he parks up just off Wilmslow highstreet and you walk down with him.

He shows you The Rex cinema which if you both had more time here he would have taken you to see a film but he promises to bring you back for a date night. To make up for it, he takes you a few doors further down and buys you a few cocktails in Revs, your favourite being the Mean Girl one that comes with a post-it note pegged onto the glass that says ‘So Fetch’.

Matty ends up having a few drinks too and it’s only after you’ve both had two cocktails and 3 flavoured shots each that he realises you both drove here. Thankfully that gets quickly resolved by him phoning his brother and he promises Louis that if he comes to drive you both back, he will buy him a bottle of vodka and pay for his taxi from home to the car later.

Whilst in Revs, you spot a photobooth and after how cute the last ones were, you can’t resist doing another one. These pictures turn out to be extremely coupley, but you blame that on being tipsy and loving your boyfriend's lips on your own. The print was black and white and the camera captured your kisses, giggles, and funny faces and you download the digital version instantly so you can put the cutest one as your lock screen.

You go on your merry way after another few drinks, Matty walking you further up the highstreet to the big Sainsburys so he can get his brother's alcohol and you can’t help but giggle at the mere sight of it. Even more so now because you’re tipsy.

Matty already knows why you’re laughing, but when you ask him, “Is this the Sainsburys?” and he confirms it is the Sainsburys, you get so excited. As if him mentioning the supermarket in a song makes it a landmark you have to see.

You make him giggle though when you run off in front of him in the shop and only when he catches you up and you scorn him does he understand what you were doing. It’s when you tell him, “No, pretend you don't know me and come flirt with me.” that he can’t stop giggling.

The fact that you’ve gone hours without food meant the alcohol has gotten to you and your tipsy state is hilarious to him. The fact you want to be a girl he flirts with in a Sainsburys is all the more wholesome to him though, at least this time he knows he will have an effect on you because it’s so easy to make you putty in his hands.

He does the little roleplay you desired and he loves the way you’re grinning at him, even though the pick up line he used was utter shit, he can tell you’re all flustered. And you only get worse when he breaks the charade and whispers other explicit things in your ear of what he would like to do to and with you and you have to push him away from you, the proximity too much to bear when he gets you too embarrassed and worked up.

You can just about look at him again when you leave the supermarket and he grabs you hand as he continues to show you the last few things on his tour of his home. He walks you back down the highstreet, this time on the other side of the road to let you have a nosy at the shops, before walking straight over the road.

He takes you to his Caffe Nero where he used to work and the both of you get a coffee, in hopes to make the both of you less tipsy, before he walks you down to the Chinese he used to work at as a delivery driver. After a quick conversation, you and Matty decide you want something from there for your dinner, so he quickly phones his family to see if they want anything too.

Turns out they do, and after placing a big order with them, Louis comes and meets you to drive the both of you back to their home and you all have a big family meal. The vodka that was bought is cracked open almost immediately and the three of you end up having drinks together while Denise and Lincoln make themselves a mocktail pitcher to share as you all chat about everything and nothing.

Never have you felt so at ease in the presence of your partner's family, especially the first real time you’ve spent with any of them. Maybe it’s because they're northern, or maybe it is just because they are fantastic people but you’ve never felt so welcome in your life and you’re so thankful for them.

You even get told funny stories about when Matty was little, and your favourite anecdote about him is that when he was really little he had a lisp. You start teasing him and saying odd words mocking a lisp and your boyfriend pretends to be unamused, but it gets even funnier when you and Louis start doing it together. Denise and Lincoln cackled as Matty was getting more and more annoyed, but thankfully a kiss to the cheek appeased him when you got up to get you both another drink.

The family's kindness really makes you not want to leave, and you really will reluctantly do so tomorrow morning. Even more so when Denise hugs you so tightly before she heads up to bed and she thanks you for coming to stay and for such a lovely evening, and she makes you almost tear up when she tells you how much of a good fit she thinks you are for her son and how welcome you are to their family.

She calls you the daughter she never had and it makes you get a little lump in your throat and you just squeeze her tighter before thanking her again for being so hospitable to you. You’ve had such a good time, you drag the night out, trying to stop yourself from getting tired even when you and Matty head back upstairs to bed.

Matty knows what you’re doing and he finds it adorable but he reminds you that you’re too much of a Grandma to try and stay up late for two nights on the trot. As soon as he gets you changed into his top and your head hits his pillows, your eyes close and Matty laughs at the effort it seems to be taking you to reopen them.

So you don’t have to, Matty just sheds off his clothes down to his underwear and he gets in bed beside you after flicking the lamp off, but he practically lays on top of you wanting you to cuddle him. Even when you're falling asleep you don’t fail to root your fingers into his curls and you hum in satisfaction as you play with his hair for a few minutes, but as soon as you stop scratching his scalp, he knows you’re asleep.

But he doesn’t follow you, instead he stays up for a little while longer and he moves back just a little so his eyes can go over every inch of your face. He wills himself to learn every detail of your face by heart, almost counting the freckles scattered on your skin as if that was a piece of information he had to live by, as if he had to look for constellations in the sky that resembled them as closely as possible just so he could feel you near when he eventually goes away.

Matty doesn’t realise he’s brought his hand up to your face until you squirm under the touch of his fingers grazing your cheekbones softly. He stills at your sudden movement but his smile grows on his face when you end up humming, like you're encouraging him to continue as you fall deeper into your slumber.

Your growing warmth beneath him and the sound of your hums lull him to sleep, blissfully pressing his head on the pillow after he’s dropped a soft kiss on the tip of your nose and trying his hardest to continue looking at your gorgeous sleepy face for as long as his tired eyes allow him.

Even when his eyes manage to close and it’s too hard to peel them open again, he can see you burned into his eyelids and on the forefront of his mind is every moment he’s gotten to share with you today and these past few days of tour.

Selfishly, he wishes for them to never end. If there’s one thing he would do anything to have is you beside him all the time.

Please, he says in his head and he hopes whoever can grant him that wish is listening.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The next tour stop is Nottingham and driving down there after being in the lads’ hometown is enlightening. It seems like being in their hometown, even if it’s just for a day, fills them up with a surge of energy that had been wearing down throughout the past few months they’ve spent on the road.

So of course, the time it takes you to get there is spent between them all going about the lounge taking the piss at each other and smoking, fighting over the most mundane opinions and even over a chocolate bar they found hidden away in the shelves.

The argument of who deserves to have the chocolate has been going on for over 10 minutes, everyone proposing their reasoning and it is growing more and more ridiculous by the minute. They keep making fun of each other's excuses and loudly counter proposing something that backs themselves up.

“It’s just chocolate, break it into pieces for everyone to have some.” Adam sighs in response to the bickering that keeps growing in volume which mixed with the few hours of sleep he’s had, is threatening to cause him a headache.

“No, that’s not fun.” Ross scowls at him like he’s a buzzkill for being the voice of reason in this debate. Instead, a cruel and fun way to get people to fight over the last chocolate comes to his mind and he smirks as his gaze sweeps everyone in the room. “Who has the saddest story?”

George’s huff in annoyance is loud and it makes you think that this is definitely not the first time a play like this has come about to settle an argument. Still, you frown and ask, “What?” confused at the random prompt.

But your boyfriend answers before Ross can, “It's a game we play, we give a different condition for a story each time to see who wins what we’re short of. This time the saddest story wins the chocolate.”

Your hesitant nod seems to be the only confirmation Ross needed, as if you were the one calling the shots this time to he places the chocolate back inside the cupboard and sits back in the booth to close call out who’s staring with their anecdote.

The first to go is George who talks about how his childhood dog died and though you find it tragic, the guys just roll their eyes and ask for the next one because they’d heard it way too many times before.

The rest of the band follows along, Adam refusing to participate because he finds it pointless and Matty skipping just because he’s fine being a spectator. Polly’s anecdote makes you pout as you listen to her and you end up giving her a little hand squeeze when she’s done. And then it’s your turn.

“Y/N?” Ross raises his eyebrows at you, a challenging look as if he’s entirely sure you don’t stand a chance to win this.

But you surprise him when you straighten in your seat, roll your shoulders and sigh heavily to prepare yourself mentally, knowing you’re so taking the chocolate for yourself.

“I’m playing to win this, okay?” Is your hint of a warning of what’s to come but no one really takes it that seriously.

“Oh go on then, doubt you can beat Polly’s.” Matty taunts this time, a giggle almost weaving through his words.

You shrug, not really giving into the teasing of his words and you start your story, “Okay so this was about five years ago, I was at a party of sorts with my ex. For context I was with him for over three years, we were really happy and I loved this person right.” You almost laugh at the memory, just because of how pathetic it had made you feel for so long until you realised you were far better off.

Clearing your throat, you continue, “Then we go to this party but it's just like at his mates house and we're all there chatting outside around the fire pit and then the question gets asked, ‘where do you see yourself in twenty years’ so each of us go round answering. Everyone mentions kids, marriage, dream jobs, blah blah blah…”

You wave your hand to diminish the importance of what was said and they watch as the corners of your lips twitch in amusement, “So I go and I say everything I hope for, that I want to be happy, have my own house which I share with the person I love, as I'm holding hands with my ex.” Your eyes catch everyone looking attentively at you, waiting for you to continue, “Whatever, I carry on talking about having my own family and everyone is smiling and loving my answer but then my ex has his go.”

You take a deep breath before you go on with the worst part of your anecdote, “My ex said, ‘In twenty years I think I'm still going to be trying to find the girl of my dreams’.”

At that, you hear everyone gasping and when you let your eyes go up to see the group of people around you, you catch a few with their hands covering their mouths and a few just freely letting you see they’re jaw dropped.

What you don’t get to see is the way your boyfriend’s face has fallen completely, his heart sinking to the deepest pit of his stomach and he genuinely feels sick knowing someone had the audacity to say that. It feels like something clicks as to why you were so insecure when it came to you thinking he was ‘settling’ for you after hearing that.

But you’re not quite done yet, chuckling a bit at their reactions, you brush a strand of hair behind your ear and add, “And he didn't just leave it there. He went on to elaborate on what he was looking for. And just like all of you, all of his friends went deadly silent and were just looking at the two of us. I went entirely numb for a minute, but in that time I somehow managed to say, ‘hope you find her’ in the most monotone voice and got up and left.”

A few beats of silence pass, everyone too astounded to even find out what was correct to say in such a situation.

Until Ross breaks it with a simple, “That’s fucking brutal.” which makes you snort out in laughter.

“I know. Can I have that chocolate now?” You extend your hand out for him to give you the prize, you know no one will dare to disagree that your story was the saddest.

And he nods, “Absolutely, fucking hell.”

You watch as the bassist gets the chocolate from the cupboard and gives it to you, and after thanking him softly, you notice the way everyone is still silent, so you turn to them and call them out for it, “Okay, everyone lighten up, it’s been a while since then.”

Thankfully the mood lightens after you win their game, things move on when people get various phone calls and you start concentrating on your phones and what’s on the TV again. Your past doesn’t plague your mind in the slightest as you’ve already buried that away with a nice little bow of trauma securing it away, and you have no intention of letting it get you upset any longer than it did a few years back. It was most definitely his loss anyway and you’re doing miles better for yourself these days.

You move on quite quickly, forgetting about it minutes after everyone went back to normal and you were more sidetracked with baby Hann and the chats you were having with Carly. But Matty couldn’t get it out of his head.

He found that his heart still felt like it had been beaten to a pulp for you. It hurt him a lot hearing how someone who you let yourself be vulnerable with and who you opened your heart to, said something so awful and completely disregarded your relationship like it was nothing.

God knows if someone said that to him it would never not plague his thoughts or have a permanent sinking feeling in his chest. He can’t help but think just how strong you are to have got through something like that and to be as happy and bubbly as you are now.

Since meeting you and getting to know you properly, Matty has always found himself incredibly lucky to easily make you smile or laugh that he can’t imagine ever saying anything so horrible to you. It makes him want to cherish you even more, to protect you from anyone who could be so cruel and hold you closer and tighter than ever.

Which is what he ended up doing. He didn’t bring it up until you were alone that night in the back lounge of the bus just after the last few others had disappeared off to bed.

You’d not long since had a call with Amelia and your manager that started off as business related and as soon as your manager bid you goodbye, you had a good catch up with your best friend. You’ve probably not gone this long without seeing her for a while and you were both getting withdrawal symptoms so you definitely enjoyed your chat with her.

You were equally excited to get back to the fun conversations that always filled the bus, but you weren’t surprised that it was only George and Matty that were coherently talking when you went back to socialise. Turns out you’d been chatting to your best friend for the best part of 3 hours and it was nearing 11pm and with it being an off day everyone was lazy and heading to bed early which you don’t blame them for.

This tour and your boyfriend have really fucked with your sleeping pattern, a month ago you would be tired at this time but now you rarely get tired until 2am. But it meant more time being in Matty’s presence and cuddling up to him awake in his bunk where you talk about anything that comes to mind until you eventually drift off so you don’t mind in the slightest.

Even now after George has just headed off to bed, you just find yourself relaxing in your boyfriends hold that little bit more as you pay attention to the BBC Three show that’s playing silently on the TV. Or that is until your boyfriend gets your attention again.

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” Matty whispers in your ear, a kiss being pressed on your cheek right after and his fingers clutching your waist tightly like you could be taken away from him if he wasn’t cautious.

You let your head rest on his shoulder so you can look up at him and in slight confusion, you ask him, “What?”

“With your ex. I’m sorry he did that. It was awful to hear and that’s not a par on what it must’ve felt like.” His fingers rub circles on your waist, under your shirt so his touch is warm and soothing on your skin.

Turning in his hold, your arms go around his shoulder and your fingers play with the short curls at the nape of his neck as you shake your head, “Oh no, it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay at all.” His eyes are wide, there’s no way he’ll ever come to terms with the fact that you had to go through something like that.

You sigh a bit heavily, because you know he’s right but it’s been so long since then and it has led you to where you are now so you have no complaints. Your nails scratch softly at his scalp, “I know, but I’m glad with the way everything has worked out.”

Softly, like he’s scared it will set something off that you won’t like, Matty asks, “Was he the guy who you last went out with?”

You nod, “He was the last guy, yeah. I met a girl a year after and we were together about eight months but she kept getting jealous of the dates I was going on and the flirting yet she also wanted me to take her to the dates with me so she could meet the celebs and it all just ended in a big argument so I just decided I was done.” His face is screwed up in a frown that lets you know how he finds that, and you give him a side smile as if agreeing on how bad that was.

“Everyone after her has been one night things which were hit and miss but I’d convinced myself I was better off alone anyway.” It’s easy for you to be honest about this all with him, so you continue, “No one was gonna get it and I’d sort of come to terms with the fact that I wasn’t going to find anything again.” and it’s even easier to let him know how it all changed, “Until you.”

You feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist as he breathlessly asks, “Me?”

And a giggle escapes you when you reassure that’s exactly what you meant, “Yeah, you.”

“What changed?” One of his hands comes up to lift your chin up slightly, fingertips slowly dragging down your jaw and the softness of his touch makes you lean into it.

“Well for a start I was never going to turn down another date with you.” Your lips purse as you try not to smile embarrassedly at your admission, “But then you came round to mine and you were the sweetest. You hugged me when I got upset at your album, you came round and surprised me and bought me a Christmas present.”

Your heart swells in your chest as you remember, your eyes stay on his and you find yourself wanting to forever be under his gaze because it just has goosebumps erupting on your skin, heat rising up to your cheeks and a tingling hitting every corner of your being, “You make me nervous, and I’ve not felt nervous talking to someone in the longest time, I missed that.”

There’s a need to clear up your words when you realise it could come across wrongly, “But I wasn’t nervous because you’re the lead singer of my favourite band. I was nervous because of you.” His delicate smile reaches his eyes, those crinkles you’ve grown to love showing just how happy your words are making him and he continues his delicate tracing of your features as you add, “The things you do when you talk to me, when you smile at me or smirk at me. You make me the best kind of nervous.”

His thumb teasingly runs across your bottom lip, your breath hitches in your throat and you hold it there until his finger runs down to press on your chin softly, “I still make you nervous?”

“All the time.” It comes out in a whisper but it’s wholehearted because it’s the actual truth, “I love it when you’re not actively trying to make me flustered.” That’s a bit of a white lie, because you do love it when he teases you even though he makes it so hard for you not to be embarrassed by it in public.

Matty pouts slightly, “But seeing you flustered is how I know it’s all working.”

He makes himself sound so innocent like that, you roll your eyes in fake annoyance, “Yeah, yeah. You just love watching me squirm, I know.”

And then that smirk you love breaks on his face and it all comes together when he chats back, “Love watching you do more than squirm.”

It makes you so incredibly giddy, he can definitely feel the heat growing on your face at his words, “Yeah I sure know you do, you little shit.” You narrow your eyes, an attempt to appear menacing.

He snickers at your effort, offering you an eye roll and a sassy, “Oh but you love it.” as a response.

“I do.” You catch your bottom lip between your teeth as you agree. There’s no need to keep anything to yourself anymore, you think, and how liberating is it that you can just cup his face and pull him in for a sweet kiss to show him just how much you adore him.

Your tongue teases his bottom lip and he lets your tongues meet without a second of doubt, he hums when he tastes you and you hum back to let him know how much you enjoy this. It is so easy letting time pass when your lips are moving with each other, your fingers clutching each other tightly and oxygen be damned for your one priority is showing what you feel through your kiss.

You pull back panting when you can no longer kiss without feeling like you’re gonna pass out from lack of oxygen in your lungs and he takes the opportunity to bring back what started it all, “I’m sorry he made you feel like you weren’t enough.”

“Thank you for making me feel like I am.” Your head tilts as you say, doe eyes almost sparkling at him like a love sick puppy for him.

You swear it was impossible to feel stronger for him until he nudges your nose with his and your lips brush together as he says, “You’re more than enough, baby. I’m the luckiest to have you.”

All you can do is press your lips against his but before you can deepen the kiss, you’re pulling back enough to look at him deep in the eyes and let him know once again, “Obsessed with you.”

Matty experiences something new every minute he spends with you, he swears, because it’s so incredible the way his heart easily swells in his chest with everything you do and say. It’s so easy for him to reciprocate, almost painful to keep it in that he’s, “Obsessed with you too.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

The Nottingham show was nothing short of incredible. As per usual the boys gave their absolute best and delivered a gig that you know for a fact people wouldn’t forget (you know the feeling far too well of wanting to go back in time to experience their shows over and over again throughout the years) and Matty’s interactions with the audience made you laugh as per usual. Especially when he gave them four songs to choose from and even after Paris lost to Menswear, he decided to still play Paris after it.

Your note being, I certainly like you better when you take off your clothes ;) x that night assured that he went absolutely unhinged for you on stage during Too Shy. You found yourself sweating at his intent hip movements as his eyes swam through the crowd in search of you, winking your way when he found you and you had to hide behind your hands all flustered while the girls around you squealed, entirely unaware of your presence and thinking it was meant for them.

Leeds comes next and you have the best time too, especially when he opens your note and cackles loudly when he reads, Drive Like I Do, when? instead of a cute note like he had been expecting.

He surprises you when Robbers comes on and he sings the climax of the song in the style of the Drive Like I Do version of the song. You scream so loud at that, joining the crowd's cheers and when the next song starts, you’re left feeling all gooey inside at the fact that the littlest things you can mention will end up in him trying to appease your wishes.

Newcastle is entirely shocking to you. You were excited to be there, especially since Matty mentioned Tim would be attending and you’d finally be able to meet him, but you’re absolutely not ready for the surprise you got once you got to the venue.

It had been slightly hectic, since people were swarming the place so you had to sneak into the venue almost being shielded by George and Ross’ big frames as you hid in a massive hoodie and some glasses to try and keep your identity hidden.

You find yourself shaking in anticipation as you’re walking between George and Ross on your way to the greenroom, trying to have a pep talk in your mind so that you calm yourself down about the prospect of meeting your boyfriend’s Dad.

Of course the lads caught onto your shaking hands that you were wiping on top of your hoodie, Ross teased you for being nervous but George assured you it’d be alright. So you settle a bit, slowly coming to terms with it and preparing yourself to offer Tim a smile as soon as you step through the door of the greenroom.

But when you get there and see that Lewis fucking Capaldi is there, you can’t help but let out a squeal of excitement. The Scottish legend who in a few months you know you already have a date booked in with, makes you so excited. You run to hug him hello and he’s equally excited to see you there.

Tim makes you cackle when he says, “I’ll be offended if I don’t get hugged just as enthusiastically.” behind you and you let go of Lewis to greet the comedic legend. You’re glad your reaction to Lewis’ presence served as an ice breaker because then the conversation with Matty’s Dad flows easily and you find yourself laughing at the fact that you were so nervous about meeting him when he’s an absolute sweetheart.

Spending the day in Lewis’ company is as funny as you could’ve imagined and the filming of him taking the piss out of what Matty does on stage makes you cackle laughing. Thankfully with the other singer distracting your boyfriend, you could easily sneak your note into his pocket today, and you felt quite proud of that one.

That night you stay back behind the stage to watch the show (the crew gave you some in-ears so you could still hear everything the way that you would if you were in the main bit of the arena). Tonight your note was Obsessed with you and everything but Newcastle aren’t winning the cup baby xoxoxo and when the camera shows Matty snorting at it and shaking his head, pocketting it again before grabbing his acoustic guitar, it made you giggle and when Lewis asked you about it and you told him, he started laughing too.

This had all come about because like George had been roped into supporting Newcastle United by his best friend, you had been dragged in to support Manchester United because that’s Amelia’s football team. Yesterday was the first leg of Newcastle's semi-final in the Carabao Cup which you all watched and you were happy for Matty that they won 1-0, but tonight was Manchester United’s first semi-final match and you had a good feeling your team was going to win. Regardless though, you did think that you would end up playing your boyfriend’s team in the final, and you can’t let him get too comfortable so you kept teasing him yesterday saying regardless of if they win, Manchester United will beat Newcastle.

The show moved on quickly, and it wasn’t a surprise that you started tearing up when Tim goes on stage to sing All I Need To Hear and you’re glad you’re right next to Lewis because he makes you laugh when he makes a joke about how the band would be more successful if Tim replaced Matty.

When it’s time for Lewis to go on stage, you’re left alone until your boyfriend surprises you with his presence after he quickly got changed and the rest of the band tagged along so you all could watch Lewis together.

Of course you lot piss yourselves laughing when people go absolutely mad when the text Special guest: Harry Styles comes on the screen and then it only grows louder once the door opens, but to their disappointment it’s not the Watermelon singing man.

Lewis makes it funnier when he waves at everyone, laughter can be heard from the crowd and it grows louder when he walks up to the mic and says, “My name is Harry Styles and it’s good to be here. I know what you’re thinking; ‘He looks different. He sounds different’.” And with one last adjusting of his guitar strap, he adds, “But make no mistake I am Harry Styles.”

But your amusement dies in your throat in a split second when he starts strumming on his guitar and he starts a song you have been dying to hear for far too long.

If anyone told you a few months ago that you’d be hearing Antichrist be performed live at a The 1975 concert for the first time by Lewis Capaldi, you would’ve thought it to be the most far-fetched joke anyone could come up with. But here you were, already crying at Lewis singing the first line to a song you’ve waited so long to hear in concert.

Matty doesn’t realise how bad your state is until Lewis sings, “Is it the same for you?” and you shake with the sob that rips through you. The visuals on the big screens were making him laugh and he assumed your soft shaking was just a product of your laughter, the sound being drowned by the loudness of the crowd singing along. He’s entirely taken aback by your reaction and in instinct he wraps his arms around you from behind you.

He hears you tearfully but softly singing the next verse but you fully let your broken voice rumble with the crowd for the third verse.

The buildup to the bridge starts and they lads take a few seconds of silence to clock onto your state and giggle. They didn’t expect you to have such a reaction to Lewis singing the song, and Ross is a cheeky bitch so he points it out.

“This is exactly why we’re never doing this song.” If you’re crying this hard then the bassist wouldn’t want to imagine how badly the people in the crowd were looking.

You don’t even allow yourself to form a proper answer and instead you let the song dramatically reply to him. You point your finger at him and George who is right beside him and belt out the bridge almost entirely enraged at what he’s just had the cheek to say.

But that doesn’t appear menacing to them, George and Ross laugh and you can feel Matty’s chest shaking with laughter behind you. Even Adam was giggling away at your emotion and it was only making you sob harder as you sang. You don’t even have the mind to think about how embarrassing this might be when you look back because you’re completely overcome by emotion.

They’re not done taking the piss out of you when the song is over, and you’re left shaking your head at their jokes whilst you wipe the tears off your face, Matty’s lips pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder but you feel his breath hit your skin whenever he laughs at any of the guys’ quips.

Lewis announcing, “I was going to sing one of my songs next, but I thought it would just be better to play a Taylor Swift song.” has you gasping way too loud, interrupting another joke Ross was about to make at your expense but your reaction to the Scots’ introduction of the second song is enough to earn you a round of cackles.

George is louder this time and his giggles are so contagious you find yourself laughing with them, that is until Lewis starts singing the Taylor song you’ve loved so much since you were a teenager and the waterworks start again.

It is all such a mix of emotions, you can’t help the tears streaming down your face. It’s the song being played right after Antichrist, it’s the feeling of Matty’s arms wrapped tightly around you and how he sings it softly to you in your ear. You’re purposely keeping your volume to a decent point so you can hear your boyfriend singing it to you.

If he wasn’t holding you, you would’ve melted and died on the spot. Your legs feel wobbly from the crazy storm of butterflies fluttering inside your stomach and there’s a burning heat that runs through your veins that melts your insides.

“You alright baby?” Matty asks you softly when the song is over, brows furrowed as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

You nod softly, just letting your tears run down your cheeks until they stop but he’s on the task in a matter of seconds. He stands before you, hands cupping your jaw and thumbs swiping at the tears staining your skin.

Through his in-ears he hears they gotta go back on stage in a minute but before he rushes back with the lads, Matty showers your face with pecks. When he reaches your lips though, he can’t help himself and locks your lips in a sweet kiss, one that lasts longer than needed because George is yelling at him they need to go and so is the crew member talking in his in-ears again.

You pull back and push him softly so he can go, and just because you’re feeling better and in a jokey mood now, you give his arse a slap before he’s gone from your side. He looks back at you with a smirk, right as he gets to the door and winks at you. You’re left smiling like an idiot, waiting for the show to continue.

Lewis teases you throughout the rest of the show, at first for crying at what he did but then when Matty did something like wink into the camera or thrust at the audience. The Scot was a big tease and whilst you pretended to hate him for it, you had such a fun evening singing along to the boys with him.

Unfortunately, with there being a show the following day in Liverpool and Lewis heading back out on tour, you couldn’t go out and have a few drinks together that night. But you all bid him goodbye, you give him a hug and tell him that you and Amelia will be seeing him soon.

It felt bittersweet saying goodbye to Tim, but he told you that you had to come back up to Newcastle with Matty as soon as you were free to and he would happily show you around the city properly. Before you even know it, you’re back on the road.

You passed out pretty much as soon as you got on the bus and Matty found you in the bunk fast asleep about 5 minutes after you said you were heading to bed. Just before he climbed in to join you, he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips hoping not to wake you and he was grateful he didn’t disturb you when he cuddled himself into you and slowly fell asleep himself.

Waking up outside the arena in Liverpool was an interesting ordeal. There wasn’t a gated section where the buses could go here so when you and Matty woke up and were hoping to head out for a walk, it was a little difficult because there were fans outside.

So a little plan was devised to combat this, and it was orchestrated and quite literally carried out by George. The drummer suggested that you wrap up in a hoodie and have the hood up and that he would carry you out and into the venue, and people would automatically assume you were Charli and that you were asleep.

The queen of pop had gone back home to London after the Manchester show, along with Carly too but no one but those of you on the tour knew that. So George carrying a girl into the arena seemed like a perfect way to get you in unseen and keep your relationship underwraps.

There was an alternative, that Ross carry you inside in the same way, but as soon as you made a joke of that's a good way of socialising with him more, Matty chipped in quickly and cut that idea off. So it was Matty’s jealousy that decided that you would be carried the 10 metres into the venue by George.

And thankfully it went fine and there were a few fans who made a fuss but George just smiled and kept walking with you in his arms. Your legs were around his waist and your arms wrapped around his shoulders and you hid yourself away into his neck until the metal doors closed.

Once they did, you looked up at George and grinned, he laughed at your grin and smiled back. You couldn’t not tell him as you were in his arms though, “You smell really good.”

“Thanks babe.” The drummer winks, resulting in you immediately becoming flustered.

Matty heard and saw all this, so with a brief look of jealousy and distaste, he nudged his best friend, indicating to put you down. However, the drummer instead smirked, “Nah, she’s mine now mate.”

If that didn’t have you internally choking, the drummer moving his hands to your arse for the briefest few seconds to tease his best mate did. You’re winning at life well and truly, you’re certain you’ll die a happy woman.

After that, George let you return to your feet and you and Matty went about your day. It was quite early and both of you didn’t sleep well really despite falling asleep quickly. The bunk was definitely beginning to get uncomfortable now, so you’re certainly excited to be getting closer to being back in a proper bed.

Matty however, thought ahead and booked the two of you a day room at a nearby hotel which you both walked to after you had a sneaky walk around the docks, thankfully not being recognised by anyone. The room was stunning, and not even because it was fancy, it was just because after not sleeping in a proper bedroom since you were in Manchester it felt like a luxury.

A luxury which both you and Matty tarnished completely because you both did more than sleep in the bed and made most of the time you had alone with no need to worry about being quiet. You both napped after you wore each other out but then you both showered together which ended with both of you on your knees one after another.

After checking out and getting a taxi back to the venue, everything went smoothly. There was even a surprise waiting for you, which may be another best moment of the tour, because thanks to the fan who threw a sausage roll on stage back in Manchester, Greggs have sent the band a PR package.

It’s a glorious sight. 13 hot sausage rolls and a dozen different pasties for you all to feast on before the show. It was amazing and you’ve never seen food disappear so quickly in your life.

After that, you and Matty both greeted Denise and Lincoln who made the trip up to come and watch the show again. You were sticking to being in the pit again tonight and you went out just after Denise said goodbye to the boys.

When you got to the pit, you couldn’t help but laugh when you saw the crowd yelling and waving at Denise who is up at the top of the first tier of seats. She waves to her fans like the true queen she is and before you know it the show starts.

The show is as amazing as it always is and the crowd is as loud as ever. You’re screaming along with all of them, every line to every song at the top of your lungs but your yells of excitement are interrupted the moment the consumption interlude comes and, while everyone is screaming even louder at the sight, you’re speechless in embarrassment.

You’ve never felt such regret for sleeping with your boyfriend before, but when Matty did the consumption interlude that night and he took his shirt off, revealing to the 11 thousand people (Denise and Lincoln included, plus the band and the crew) that you’d scratched his back to shreds earlier. Your jaw dropped when you saw the red marks lining his shoulder blades.

You quite literally consider running away and never showing your face on this tour or to anyone on it afterwards but thankfully the show carries on and after a few songs you manage to forget about it. It’s a shame everyone else doesn’t forget though, because when you head backstage after the set has ended, you get endlessly teased for it.

If that wasn’t bad enough, the day after, the fans figured out that it wasn’t George carrying Charli into the venue in Liverpool. The bright side was that they didn’t know it was you but they found out it wasn't the queen of pop in the drummer’s arms because Charli attended an event at the same time as the gig back in London so the conspiracies went on and on. Twitter seemed to connect the girl in George’s arms as the one who had marked up Matty’s back and they seemed to just take the piss out of Matty for it because he wasn’t strong enough to carry you inside himself.

It made you and George laugh, but your boyfriend not so much. The next day he took every excuse he could to pick you up off the ground whether it was just to prove the point, or just to twirl you around to make you giggle. At one point he gave you a piggyback ride and he ran around the room filled with all the boys in it, even making Jordan take pictures of the two of you.

Jordan sent you both the pictures that night, and one of the pictures that came out where Matty is running but you and him towards Jordan is so funny. In the first, you and your boyfriend are giggling as he's zooming past the camera but you are both grinning line lunatics as you clutch him.

The second one though is your favourite because it was caught just as you lent around over Matty’s shoulder and his head was twisted towards you, and you were both laughing at each other as he held you up. You were fairly certain you kissed him afterwards too just before Matty raced back around the room.

Before any of you knew it, you were on the plane over to Ireland. The night you got there, you stayed in a hotel and with your free day before the next gig and Matty showed you around the sights. You had such a fun day being a tourist and your boyfriend showed you his favourite spots he always tried to come to when he was in Dublin. And to end the night off, you and the rest of the boys all ended up going to a pub where traditional Irish music was being played inside and it was so much fun.

The Dublin show was the second to last date of the tour and everyone had been incredibly excited about it. Of course, it had been a bit sad seeing this leg of the tour coming to an end but it had all gone so well that you felt more like celebrating the conclusion of such an amazing tour than sulking over it being over.

But it wasn’t the nostalgia of seeing the tour ending before your eyes that made the mood come down when you were all gathered in the greenroom at the venue, instead it was Jamie letting Matty know what a certain tabloid was planning on putting out about him on the next day’s paper.

You instantly caught the change in his behaviour and did your best to cheer him up a bit, which thankfully wasn’t that hard because he seemed to have gotten over it when it was time for you to go out into the crowd and him to get on stage.

That night, you kept your note sweet but funny, using his lyrics to try and steal at least a giggle out of him. When he read that it said, You got a pretty kinda dirty face x he chuckled to himself and pocketed it with a smile that reached his eyes. You were relieved seeing him smiling harder now after the note and you silently hoped it would stay that way until the gig ended.

But you celebrated too soon, because he went on to let the large crowd know about the situation right before singing Love It If We Made It and your heart got heavy seeing the clear distaste and upset on his face.

Matty didn’t let it hold him down though, because he went on to give a passionate rendition of the song and you got goosebumps as you watched him enraged and growling out the lyrics.

Unfortunately, after the show was done, the high came down quickly when you all walked back into the greenroom to the news of the article having been published online already and reading it was upsetting.

You watched as your boyfriend read it multiple times, getting more and more angry every time but he kept it to himself, only letting scoffs and shakes of his head show to everyone. The rest of the band read it and called bullshit on it, rolling their eyes at the way something had been twisted and taken way out of proportion.

It was when you got in the bunk together later that night, in the tour bus on your way to Belfast, that Matty properly let his emotions show.

He let angry tears fall from his eyes silently with you cradling his head on your chest, your right hand rubbing his back soothingly as your other hand was on his head and softly scratching his scalp.

It broke your heart hearing him getting this worked up and upset, your head a tangle of confused thoughts as to how people could be so quick to jump to the worst conclusions when taking a singular second of a moment out of context to fit their villainizing narrative.

“I’m sorry.” Matty apologised as he sniffled, picking up his head from your chest slightly so that he could wipe the tears off his cheeks.

But you shook your head, letting your hands come up to cup his face so you could take on the task of wiping his tears, “Don’t apologise, baby. It’s what I’m here for.”

You pulled him back down to rest over you and he didn’t have it in himself to deny the comfort that you were bringing him so he nuzzled his face on the crook of your neck and, right after he left a soft kiss on your skin, he quietly asked, “Am I a bad person?”

“No, you’re not.” You replied in a heartbeat, not even a hint of doubt crossing your mind, “People just love making others seem worse than them so that they can feel superior. It’s so fucked.” Your fingers tangled in his curls and pulled on them slightly, just so he could look at you as you continued, “Everyone knows the person you are, and you would never do that. You don’t stand for that. They’re always looking for something they can turn into a scandal and it’s so unfair that they do it at your expense.”

His teary eyes watch you intently for a few seconds, silence engulfing you entirely but your eye contact doesn’t break. That’s how you catch the tear that falls from the corner of his eye with your thumb quickly and you have to bite your bottom lip not to cry yourself.

Matty doesn’t say anything and you can’t blame him, it’s upsetting enough to see him go through this so you cannot imagine what it must feel like being called such a name for an action that got completely misinterpreted.

He kissed the palm of your hand softly, wet lips pressed on your soft skin adoringly with his eyes closed as if he’s indulging in it all.

“Let’s just go to sleep okay?” You suggest delicately, whisper breaking the silence and the heaviness of the moment, and you’re so glad that he nods and melts right into you.

After a long minute, you hear Matty sigh and you stay awake until you’re certain he’s asleep. Only when you register his steady breathing and the absence of his sniffling, do you will yourself to close your eyes and get some rest.

~*~*~*~ 30th January ~*~*~*~

Today, you woke up still feeling your chest heavy after everything that had happened last night. But it’s Amelia’s birthday and she's flying over to join you on the last day of tour, so you were excited to go pick her up from the airport, but that unfortunately meant having to leave an upset Matty for a bit just as the crew is starting to bring everything inside the venue.

Earlier that morning, whilst you had gone to the small bathroom in the bus, Matty had read the article once again and when he caved and went on Twitter to see what was being told, he felt his blood starting to boil in anger.

You can see it on his face even now that you’re back. You had managed to make it back to the venue, this time with Amelia beside you, just in time for soundcheck and despite the fact that Matty sounds amazing, it’s written all over his face just how much this is all bothering him still.

On the way back to the venue, you told Amelia what happened and the boy's reaction to it, so she was up to date. But despite the slight atmosphere, you weren’t going to let it affect your best friend's birthday.

The boys greet her warmly when she arrives and they all ask how she’s been. She gives you all the gossip that you’ve missed out on from the chicken shop offices along with other industry stuff that she’s heard. The boys find it quite amusing watching you both back together, it’s easy for them all to see you’ve both missed each other, it’s certainly like what any of them would be like with any long time apart.

Before long, it’s time to soundcheck and whilst you see Matty’s mood dip a little at that, you don’t comment on it despite it being written all over his face. The last thing you think would be helpful is drawing attention to it in front of everyone. So you just peck his lips quickly before you part ways and you head down to the pit with Amelia, fully intending to dance to a few songs with your best friend. And dance you do, to Too Shy, It’s Not Living, She’s American, and a couple more. However, the short practice takes a turn.

It surprises you when the singer turns to George and tells him they’re soundchecking Pressure right after they’ve finished soundchecking Oh Caroline. You feel your chest contract as you hear him angrily spout the lyrics, constantly taking sips of the water bottle that he keeps throwing to the ground beside his feet and rubbing his face like being in his own skin is annoying him.

The feeling in your chest gets even worse when after a few songs, he mumbles something into the mic and the lads start playing Me.

The second the song starts and you recognise it, you feel your heart sinking and you can’t even try and force a smile at Matty when he catches a glimpse at you. His eyes almost evade you as if it hurts him to have you seen him this way, but he keeps getting annoyed at every little thing from then on.

First, he keeps complaining about the volume of his mic compared to the rest of the instruments and after the third time he signals the sound guys to change it, he huffs and rolls his eyes as he gives up on everything. The next thing that happens is that he messes up the lyrics and makes them all start again, and that happens twice which has Ross grumbling under his breath at Matty.

Unsurprisingly, you and your best friend watch as the tension sweeps over the stage. The bassist muttering things clearly annoys Matty a bit more than it normally would and it seems like his thoughts start tangling together after that because he misses a line and starts later than he should’ve and the second he realises his mistake, he explodes in anger.

“No- Stop. Stop!” His arms are wailing around, brows in a permanent frown and his cheeks a hint of pink from how worked up he’s getting, “It’s all wrong!”

Adam lets his head hang at the outburst and George just watches Matty like he’s trying to find the best words to approach him with but Ross has had enough with his attitude so he just airs out his thoughts without much of a filter, “If you’re gonna change the setlist last minute then at least fucking try to properly soundcheck it mate. We’re all doing our parts alright.”

Matty knew they were all playing it right and it was just him who was unable to get it together and at least practice it well, “I fucking know Ross, okay?!” He’s almost shaking from anger, feeling like Ross isn’t even trying to understand where he’s coming from, “Fucking hell. Go and get called a fucking Nazi and see how it feels.”

“You think that hasn’t upset us all?!” Ross hisses in annoyance, “We fucking get it Matty but you’re being a right dick right now.”

“You know that it isn’t true so why are you letting it get to you this much? You’ve never let this shite get to your head before, why now?” Ross has a point with what he’s saying but the reasoning goes over Matty’s head when the bassist adds, “We’ve been through shit like this before, just stop caring like you always do.”

Matty takes is the wrong way and he’s fuming as he says, “And what’s that fucking meant to mean?” He doesn’t even let Ross speak though, because he’s quick to interrupt whatever he’s about to say with a scoff, “You’re such a fucking twat, Macdonald. That’s it. I’m not doing this anymore.”

Not even caring to put the microphone back on its stand, Matty throws it to the side and starts walking off stage, long strides that have Ross shaking his head, “Yes, fucking leave. ‘Cos that’s the best solution.”

Matty turns around to spout a venomous “Fuck you Ross.” and the last thing you hear him say before he disappears back inside the venue is, “Great fucking friend you are, you arsehole.”

You’re fully speechless watching all that happen before you, Amelia squeezes your forearm in shock and that snaps you out of your trance.

Your eyes go to Ross, who looks away when your eyes meet, then to George who just gives you a crooked smile and finally to Adam, who smiles softly at you like he’s trying to comfort you from afar.

“It’s just one of his tantrums, he’ll be alright.” Adam waves off as he sets his guitar on its stand, “He just needs a bit of time.”

You nod and sigh, the heaviness in your chest becoming more prominent, “Should I go check on him?”

“If you want?” George says once he’s down from where his kit is set up and shrugs at you with a bit of worry on his face.

Ross is the one to warn you though, “He might snap at you though, so don’t take it personal if he does.”

“Right.” You nod absentmindedly, trying to think of where Matty might be. You let your bottom lip free from between your teeth and turn to your best friend before you’re off to find your boyfriend, “Sorry Ames, I’ll be right back.”

Shooting Amelia an apologetic look, you start walking past her and she manages to get a little chuckle from you when she calls, “S’okay. Go get your man.”

You make a dash for the backstage area and arrive at the greenroom the quickest you can, and thankfully Matty is right there pacing the room with his head in his hands. His hair is sticking out in every direction from how much he’s pulling on it in frustration.

Careful to not startle him, you clear your throat as you walk into the room and stop when you’ve barely crossed the threshold. “Baby-” You try to ask him if he’s alright, but he interrupts your words when he looks up at you, red eyes with tears threatening to spill out at any second, and basically throws himself into your arms.

The weight of his body hitting yours has a huff slipping past your lips but your arms are quick to clutch him tightly and you allow him to just silently cry into you again. Instantly, you start whispering sweet nothings as you try to calm him down, but nothing works for a while.

Slowly, you guide the both of you to the nearest settee and when you take a seat on it, you encourage him to get comfortable with you. He has his legs thrown over your lap, his head hidden away in the crook of your neck and his arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

Matty is fully silent the whole time, just letting everything out on you and you try your best not to get upset yourself as he cries. 10 minutes must go by when he sniffles continuously and takes deep breaths as if trying to calm himself down, and he lifts his head up once he’s managed to stop crying but not before leaving a bunch of pecks on your neck.

“I’m such a twat, I’m so-” He tries to apologise in a panic, retreating to his space on the settee so he peels himself off you and that has you frowning.

“Don’t.” You interrupt his attempt at an apology and turn to him with a soft expression, your hand comes up to his face and cups it, thumb rubbing on his cheek and feeling the stubble creeping on his skin. “It’s okay, baby. Nothing to apologise for. You feeling a bit better?”

Your boyfriend lets his eyes close at your touch and he hums as confirmation in complete honesty. He’s so glad he can let himself be this vulnerable into you and he certainly notices just how much comfort you bring him because just your presence helps him settle down a bit after what had happened.

“Good.” You mumble in response and, cradling his head, you pull him onto you so he can rest on your chest while you hug him.

Despite all the bullshit that has gone down, seeing how you react in this situation and how you comfort him has his chest swelling. There’s no denying it anymore that you’re one of the best things that has ever happened to him and some thoughts start to clear up in his mind, all about the feelings he has towards you and a hint of how he might’ve underestimated them a little.

About 5 more minutes go by before the band and Amelia come back into the greenroom, their chatter quieting down when they walk into the room. They are wary about the state Matty was in and they don’t really want to disturb him if it was affecting him that much. There will be a much better moment to talk about it later so they will keep their mouths shut about it until the time comes to bring it up.

Amelia walks up to the drinks table and gets you and herself a water bottle, it really is so that you can give it to Matty because she doesn't want to disturb the singer. But when she walks up to you and hands you the bottle, you smile at her and thank her and the mention of her name makes Matty lift his head up to see your best friend.

He offers Amelia a forced side smile and you’re both surprised when he says, “M’sorry for ruining your birthday Ames.”

Amelia clicks her tongue and waves him off, “You haven’t! There’s nothing to apologise for, Matty.”

Your boyfriend gets himself up and pulls her into another hug, “Let me make you a drink, as an apology.”

“Maybe that apology I will accept.” Amelia giggles and she gives Matty a tight squeeze.

Your curly haired brunette smiles at your best friend before letting her go, and he looks between you and her before clapping and rubbing his hands together, “Let’s get the party started then.”

You don’t get in the way of that at all, George gets involved immediately grabbing a can out of the fridge and Rebekka and Polly all grab drinks too. Thankfully once music gets put on, the atmosphere settles a little and you relax that little bit more. And you’re really thankful to everyone wanting to make Amelia’s day special.

After you all end up having your first drink and raising your glasses to your best friend, you quickly grab your boyfriend’s attention for a moment, just to tell him, “I’m just gonna run to the bus. I need to get something, very quickly.”

“You remember the way back here, right?” Matty double checks, and he’s about to offer to come back with you until you assure him.

“I do.” You promise, and you cheekily ask, “Can you please make me another one of those cocktails for when I get back?”

Matty just grins though, “Of course baby.”

Quickly, you kiss him before you head out and Matty’s heart races that little bit when you turn back before you walk out and you catch him smiling at you.

He feels himself blush at the way you wink at him before you disappear off and he takes a second to calm down before he preps the drink you requested. He chats to your best friend with ease and Matty can tell himself getting that little bit better because she provides him with a good distraction. Even if she is jokingly asking if you’re boring him on tour yet or if your excitement has dwindled during the gigs.

When you come back 10 minutes later, everyone notices because when you come back in because as you do, you flick the lights off and when all eyes go to the door, they see you smiling with a birthday cake in your hands. You start off singing Happy Birthday to your best friend and you walk toward her with a grin and laugh through the lyrics when you see her cackling at the fact you have bought her a children’s Spiderman cake.

You’re glad she found it funny as all of this Andrew Garfield hype definitely wasn’t going to leave her anytime soon. After you set the cake down just before the song finished, Amelia blew out her candles and turned to you to give you the biggest hug ever. She thanks you a bunch of times and you giggle telling her how much you love her and have missed her and that you hope she has a fantastic day. After you say how excited you are for her to open her presents, and she promises she’ll open them when you both get back to the hotel, she notices that you’ve changed.

“Outfit change?” Amelia asks with a grin, as she knows exactly where she’s seen this outfit on you before.

You grin and nod, “Had to get my party fit on, Ames.”

“Course.” She laughs, and you notice the way Matty grins as he realises what you’ve changed into as she says, “You look hot.”

You wink at her and smile, “Thanks bestie.”

She winks back at you before turning around herself and heading over to socialise with Ross.

“Party outfit?” Your boyfriend moves over and wraps his arm around your waist. He can’t help but knowingly ask, “You’re wearing this for me?”

He doesn’t even have to ask. He knows you are. Why else would you be wearing red leather pants paired with a cheetah print, long sleeve top?

You shrug nonchalantly, trying not to let the grin tug at your lips, “Maybe?”

“Brings back good memories.” Matty says as he comes around to stand in front of you and he wraps his arms around your waist.

You feel heat rise to your cheeks at the thought of your first date. You genuinely can’t believe that your favourite singer is now your boyfriend, and it all started in a chicken shop in Cricklewood. “Amazing memories.”

Matty has genuinely never been so glad he agreed to an interview. And yes maybe he will eventually admit that he requested to have the date with you, but he’s beyond glad that he did because you have changed his life so much, and it’s certainly for the better.

“The bandana is missing though.” He points out with a soft pout on his face, you can’t hold back from pressing a quick kiss on his lips.

“I didn’t pack it. Sorry baby.” You truly wish you had taken that red bandana with you now but you think the outfit looks recognizable enough without it.

He quickly finds a solution in his head, “I can sort that out.” A red bandana is easy to get, he figures.

“‘Course you can.” You scoff out a laugh, but your amusement settles deep in your chest to add to the adoration you feel for this man. “Kinda wish it was raining right now, you know?” Your voice raises in pitch slightly and your smile grows bigger on your face when you think back to that moment, “Wanna kiss you in the rain again.”

Matty blushes and smiles so big, it reaches his eyes, wrinkles showing at the edges and it makes you melt as he says, “Do you?”

You hum as you nod, “I really do.” And just to taunt him you feign pity as you say, “What a shame, isn’t it?”

His eyes go from your down to your lips and up again continuously, you lick your bottom lip purposely as if daring him to kiss you but he sighs shakily and agrees, “What a shame.”

You want to laugh, his self control clearly crumbling because his gaze keeps dropping down to your lips, so you wrap your arms around his neck and with a toothy smile, you say, “Just kiss me, silly.” and Matty is not one to say no to anything you want.

However, your kiss is interrupted by Amelia and Ross gagging loudly beside you as they approach you with shots in hand. Turns out having tequila shots was the birthday girl’s wishes and you are pushed to downing the hellish liquid multiple times while you wait for the show to start.

Right before you’re off to the pit, you all have a little toast to the tour and to Amelia and it’s so cute being part of this little family. It warms your heart looking back and seeing how everyone had welcomed you into the tour and it’s even more special when you see your best friend also be treated like one of the family.

You’ve caught her giggling around with the band all night, having long conversations with Polly and Ross and even whispering about god-knows-what to Matty before you leave. It has you curious how they seem to be scheming something in secret until the very last minute you have in the greenroom.

But you forget to ask what they were talking about when you’re rushing out of the greenroom and it’s hilarious because, since you’re so tipsy, you and Amelia are giggling uncontrollably as you make your way through the pit.

Your note tonight is perfect for what Matty has schemed with Amelia, and he thinks it’s such a cute coincidence that you’ve written, Baby you look so cool x (you’d originally written babe but scribbled the e and written a y just underneath it) without knowing what is going to happen when the band starts playing Robbers.

Next comes the Charlie Chaplin cover of Smile which never fails to make you do just that, even if Matty acts all drunk and lonely on stage as he sings. You think it’s a beautiful song and you’re so happy that you’d got to see him sing it so often. But what happens next shocks you and the entire arena beyond belief.

It sobers you up watching the bit play out on stage, unbelievably so when you see Matty break down into tears holding Ross’ shoulder and apologising to him as Ross is forced to stand there and not react. You can’t even tell if he’s crying for the bit or not, it worries you.

As soon as you knew the consumption interlude was coming, you headed backstage needing to know if everything was alright because even though he had played 6 more songs after that bit had happened, he seemed a bit off.

So you appeared backstage and your arms opened up for him to run into them the second you saw him and you’re so glad he clutches you tightly and promises you he’s alright after you ask him if there was something bothering him.

He didn’t have much time to stay and chat to you, since the crew had gotten the stage ready for the at their very best section quickly so you reluctantly let him go with a sweet kiss that he thoroughly enjoys despite being rushed back onto stage.

Once he’s gone back on stage with the lads, you figure it’s better for you to be close to the stage just in case he gets upset again, so you go to the far left side of the stage where typically the crew watch the show from and stay there for the rest of the show.

Or at least that is what you were planning to do until your boyfriend takes the opportunity of An Encounter drowning the arena to start a little monologue which sparks your curiosity.

Matty smiles into the microphone and adjusts his in-ears as he walks over to the edge of the stage and leans forward as if he’s about to tell the crowd a secret. “You know, this next song has become a lot more special this past month and I wanted to share with you the reason for why that is.”

Listening to those words knowing that Robbers is next makes you turn slowly to your best friend and you find Amelia smiling brightly as you and you just know she has to do something with this because of the mischievous glint in her eyes.

There isn’t a chance for you to even ask about what’s happening when she drags you into the back of the stage and up the stairs so that you’re right beside the house. You’re so confused but you have to take quick steps so you don’t fall and it is when you’re almost by the door of the house that she pulls out a piece of red fabric and when a bit of light manages its way over where you are standing, you realise it’s a red bandana - the one you were missing.

“Put this on.” Amelia holds the bandana out for you.

But you’re so confused about everything, and why you’ve been moved to behind the stage, and what the bandana is even for, so you blankly ask, “What?”

“God- Okay,” Amelia half laughs, before she takes control of the situation as your confusion isn’t helping, “I’ll put it on you then.”

Your best friend spins you around so she can tie the material at the back of your head before turning you back and adjusting the bandana so it’s over your nose and it’s in the perfect position.

“What’s going on?” You ask as she’s doing this.

Your confusion doesn’t help when you can also hear screams from the audience and Matty’s muffled voice too. Clearly somethings going on and you’ve been left in the dark.

Your best friend looks you dead in the eye and pleads, “Trust me okay.” But you can’t settle.

“Ames, what’s happening?” You repeat yourself and she must be able to see the panic in your eyes because she answers you.

“You’re gonna go out there for something your boyfriend has planned.”

It’s an instinctive reaction to immediately be defensive, “What?! No!”

“Yes, come on!” Amelia grins, and quickly goes on to guilt trip you, “For me? For my birthday?”

“Ames…” You trail off, feeling like you’re frozen because you have no idea what you’re meant to do. Especially when she hands you a black bandana.

But your best friend spells it out for you, “As soon as Matty opens the door, you’re gonna tie this around his neck, okay?”

“Okay.” You say in a bit of a rush, your blood flooding with adrenaline so you blindly accept what she’s telling you. She adjusts your red one on your nose again, making sure it’s perfectly positioned as she instructs, “And keep this one around yours.”

You not without really knowing you’re agreeing yet you respond, “Okay.”

“Good luck,” She grins at you like a proud mother, “You got this.”

“Amelia-” You’re about to beg her for something more, but before you can the door in front of you opens, almost making you jump.

Your boyfriend stands at the open door with his hand already out for you to grab, the dreamiest smile on his face and you’re so nervous, you’re feeling a rush of a million emotions in one second.

And then your gaze drops to his chest in full show because his shirt is open and when you realise he’s somehow managed to get the Robbers shirt and is proudly wearing it for the song. It knocks the wind out of you, your throat goes dry at your lack of knowledge of what’s about to happen that involves you but Matty looks so happy compared to earlier that you’re willing to take part of whatever he’s planned.

That sultry, “Hey baby.” which makes your stomach flutter, snaps you out of the initial shock.

“What are we doing?” You ask through the bandana, almost frozen in your spot but he encourages you to take a small step forward.

“Putting on a show.” He pulls back and grins before he looks down at you and squeezes your hand as he says, “You look gorgeous.”

“I-” Whilst the compliment makes you blush, you’re not really sure it’s the time as you want more instructions from him than flattery. Regardless though, you end up stuttering a, “Thank you.”

“I got you baby. Let’s go.” Matty squeezes your hand tightly and this time you don’t hesitate to step out to him as you hear An Encounter begin to fade into your favourite song. Your boyfriend turns to you once more at the entryway to his house, the both of you just beside Rebekka and he still shields you from most people as he leans down to say into your ear, “Do what we did the other day in soundcheck, okay. I’ll stand on the table and when I go to sit down you crouch, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod complacently.

Kneel down in front of him, you can do. You’ve had practice at this point and you’ll be fine.

Your boyfriend checks once more, looking into your eyes intently for any discomfort you may be feeling as he asks, “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You promise him, nodding.

You trust Matty completely. If he wants you to do this, and be a part of his show, you’re going to do it as best you can.

The singer grins, leaning down again quickly to promise, “I got you.” and as you smile beneath the bandana, he also kisses just over your ear which makes you get flustered all over again.

And then suddenly you’re hit with a mass of screams and it’s difficult to even listen to the music that is being played around you. If you didn’t have those in-ears already in you would be fucked.

Matty walks just one step in front of you, pulling you across towards George, but only for a step until he turns back towards you and pulls you into his body. His hand lands on your waist and he slow dances you towards the white door as the drums kick in and everyone screams again.

Little do you know, more screams take place because on the screen, it comes up with, Special Guest: New Robbers Girl. It’s a detail which you will certainly be laughing at later but in the moment you have no idea as your boyfriend is dancing you across his stage.

You giggle, knowing exactly what he’s doing and what he’s referencing as you dreamed about someone doing this with you when you were younger and you first watched the music video that still to this day has you in a chokehold. Despite your heart beating wildly, you let him lead you like that, spinning you both around until you are through the door and see Polly and Jamie who give you big smiles.

That’s the moment Matty frees you from the short dance but he pulls your arm until it's fully extended and you’re gently dragged along in the direction of the stairs. It's again another reference to the beginning of the music video and you love it with all your heart.

When you reach the bottom of the stairs, it doesn’t take you long to reach the place where you know you’re gonna be standing which is right by the coffee table and once your boyfriend turns you around by the waist so you’re facing him, you catch Adam smiling at you and it definitely helps to settle your nerves a bit.

But Matty starting to sing brings all of your attention back to him, goosebumps erupt all over your skin at the charged energy of the arena and the way he sounds with the crowd singing along.

In your hands remains the bandana Amelia gave you just before the door opened, and you remember what you’re meant to do with it when you clutch it tightly between your fingers. So you bring it up to his neck so you can tie it on the back, but your actions still when he sings the next line staring directly into your eyes.

“God only knows but you’ll never leave her,” the conviction in his eyes makes you melt inside, your knees get weak and your heart swells and the flood of every feeling this man brings you comes in even stronger when he reiterates into the mic, “Never.”

You aren’t sure how you manage to tie the bandana around his neck when that happens, but you’re soon smoothing your hands from his shoulders down to his sweaty taut chest and you genuinely feel like you need to pinch yourself just to make sure you aren’t dreaming.

His fingers wrap around your wrist and slowly he walks backwards until he hits the coffee table and he gets up on it. He doesn’t even have to guide you where to go because you’re positioning yourself right in front of him, looking up as he continues to sing.

The lights on stage showcase his beauty, and you can’t help but get lost in how good he looks in his element. It’s different seeing it from up close, the brown of his eyes glistening under the lighting and his curls being illuminated like a halo around his head.

“Begging babe stay, stay, stay, stay, stay.” You watch him intently and you can’t help but grin at the way he nudges the microphone against your chin for that final stay.

Matty can tell just how big your smile is from the way your eyes are half closed and the apples of your cheeks moving to bring the bandana up the slightest bit. And he smiles just as brightly, nothing has ever felt more right to him than this.

As he’s singing, “One more fight,” Matty slowly steps down from the table and you know your queue. You start to kneel down and when you do Matty sits on the end of the table.

You’re singing along with him, not giving a shit if he can hear you or not or whether it’s ruining what he had planned but you can’t help yourself. He’s singing your favourite song to you.

He reaches the first, “Will I know you.” and as Adam’s guitar begins to ring in the background, Matty leans in and you know what’s coming. You welcome the way he gently grabs your jaw over your bandana and he pulls you in.

In the short gap between the verses, Matty presses his lips over yours, through the red material you’re wearing, and you can’t help but smile as you close your eyes to kiss him back. It’s a weird sensation, kissing but not quite, but you can feel his smile through it and you can see the joy on his face when you both pull away seconds after the crowd erupts in screams.

What the fuck is happening? Is all that’s going through your mind at the moment.

Your mind just can’t really grasp reality at the minute, not when your boyfriend is making one of your teenage dreams come true. Hell, your boyfriend is your teenage dream come true.

Both of you stay in that position as he continues onto the second verse, with you singing along as he looks into your eyes. Matty can tell you’re doing this, and he doesn’t need to see beneath the material to know that your lips are pulled into a huge smile, he can tell just from your eyes alone.

“You’ve got a pretty kind of dirty face.” Matty grins over his microphone as he sings that line at you. But he doesn’t stop there, he gently traces his finger down the centre of your face as he does and it has people screaming that little bit louder, along with you doing the same internally.

As he continues, he doesn’t let his touch stray for long. Instead, he takes a piece of your hair and starts toying with it. Twirling it around his finger over and over as he sings, “And when she’s leaving you’re home, she’s begging you to stay, stay, stay, stay, stay.”

Your eyes glimmer with adoration and your heart feels like it’s about to burst in your chest when he sings, “There’ll be a riot, cause I know you.” and he takes a hold of your wrist where ‘Be a riot’ is inked on your skin and he plants a chaste kiss over it.

It isn’t long that you can stay short circuiting over the gesture, because he’s sliding his hand up from your wrist to intertwine your fingers and helping you back up to stand on your feet.

The song starts building up, his voice becoming more passionate and so does his touch which goes from your hand to cup the side of your neck, bringing you a step closer to him. His fingers lace through the strands of your hair, twirling them softly before letting them fall.

And you know it then, what he’s going to do, knowing which line is sneaking up on you and you nod, reading his mind about it. It’s subtle and reassuring, and it’s warmth that envelopes you as it pours out of both of you when you know that this is it.

Matty’s finger tentatively comes to rest over the bridge of your nose, hooking on the edge of the bandana and he slowly peels it down your face as he sings, “But if you just take off your mask,”

The screams of the crowd when your face is finally revealed are deafening, yet it feels like you’re inside of a bubble. Just you and Matty. No one else. And this is your moment, just you two and there’s absolutely nothing else you could ever wish for.

Your cheeks hurt from how big you’re smiling, and his own smile is making it harder for him to continue singing. That and how badly he wants to seal this moment with a kiss, how badly he wants for everyone to know just how strongly he feels about you, how badly he wants for everyone to see how you’ve got him at your mercy entirely because he’s sure there’s nothing you could ever ask that he wouldn’t do.

“Sing it for me babies!” Matty shouts to the audience and he holds the microphone out towards them so they can scream, ‘Now everybody’s dead!’ but your boyfriend has other ideas for you two.

With his other hand, Matty cups the back of your neck and firmly and fiercely kisses you as the crowd screams the lyrics at the both of you. He lets the wire fall over his arm as he drops the microphone so he can get it again with ease later, but he brings his now free hand to your waist, wrapping it around your lower back pulling you into him, until he consumes you entirely.

It’s instinctive that your hand roots into his curls at this point, the other grabbing hold of his open shirt, pulling it towards you making sure he can’t escape either. Your heart is pounding, entirely running on adrenaline, and completely overwhelmed with the feelings you have for the man who’s holding you in his arms.

Matty never wants to let you go and you hope he doesn’t either. Over the loud screams you can barely hear the song anymore but you know he’s missed more than just that one lyric. It’s only when you just about hear the others singing through your in-ears, “He’s got his gun.” that you realise you’ve both got too wrapped up in the moment.

Yet, still in your hazy mind, you manage to register your favourite part of the song and you’re the one who pulls back and breaks the kiss solely to tell him, “Babe, you look so cool.”

His face is flushed, curls dishevelled just how you like them and that loopy smile on his face that melts your heart, and he looks into your eyes in a way that you just can’t describe, his lips parting and letting a soft exhale to hit your mouth before he sings to you, “You look so cool.”

Suddenly, he remembers he’s meant to sing so he’s hastily getting ahold of the mic again, but he interrupts himself and cuts the run he’s meant to do as he sings the word ‘cool’ when he watches your lips move as you sing along and he can’t be arsed singing anymore when you’re right there in front of him.

He throws the mic to the floor, the wire falling down his arm so he’s free to cup your face with both hands and pressing your lips together feverishly. His arms wrap around the back of your neck, and he brings his hands up to your hair to pull on it softly once before he’s crossing his forearms behind your head so he can pull you impossibly closer to him.

You moan softly into his mouth at his desperation, matching it with the way your fingers dig into the flesh of his waist where you’re holding him tightly as if there was a chance that he could be snatched away from you if you weren’t careful. You kiss until you’re lost for breath, only parting when you need to for air but it's never for more than a split second.

There's a push and pull between you as the rest of the band finish playing the song with huge smiles on their faces. If Matty came into the kiss a little too strong you’d try and take a step backwards but he quickly follows you, keeping you in the kiss, and he would lean backwards pulling you forwards.

The song unfortunately ends and that's when you force yourself to pull back from the kisses. But when you do, Matty just grins and he turns towards the crowd, pulling you with him and he moves so he can hug you from behind quickly so you can take in the applause.

“All for us baby.” He says into your ear, and you can’t help but turn around to quickly hug him, a little embarrassed being up here in front of so many people.

Your boyfriend giggles but doesn’t hesitate for a second to hug you back as the applause rings on. After a second though you pull back and Matty takes your hand in his and he starts moving the both of you back over to Adam’s side of the stage so you can get to the stairs.

Matty lets you walk in front of him, making sure you get up the stairs alright, and then he lets you walk back across the top of the stage towards the ‘front’ door. George and Rebekka grin at you as you walk past which gets you a little more embarrassed but you embrace it when you get to the door and you look out at the huge audience again.

You blow them all a kiss and give them a big wave and smile which makes everyone scream again and it makes you giggle. When you turn to look at your boyfriend again, he’s already grinning at you and he gives your hand a squeeze, and just the way he’s looking so cute and so gooey, you give him another kiss.

It’s quicker than your last few but it means just as much as those ones. You can feel each other's smiles which cuts it a little shorter but you’re grinning like fools when you step back towards the door again.

Like a gentleman he opens the door for you and as you’re about to go through he pulls you back in for another kiss. It’s a short kiss but it’s one you cherish so much, even more when you part and at the same time you both mouth, “Obsessed with you.” at each other. You take a step through the door but before you can walk through, you feel yourself get all flustered as he looks at you, before you can walk through the door though he holds your hip and tells you, “Wait here a second baby.”

Matty quickly pecks your lips one last time, before he jumps down from the top stage, onto the settee and then he quickly crouches down to pick up the microphone from near the edge of the stage where he threw it earlier. He sighs with a toothy grin on his face once his eyes are back on the crowd. Seeing this many people witness you and him finally out and not sneaking around makes him incredibly happy.

“Y/N Y/L/N, ladies and gentlemen.” His voice rings through the speakers, as he turns to watch you wave goodbye to the mass of people in front of the stage and you quickly blow him another kiss before you turn to walk back through the house’s door.

“Wow, what a girlfriend reveal!” Matty breathes out with a giggle at the end, as soon as you’ve disappeared behind the door. He’s so giddy, he just can’t conceal it and he doesn’t really want to so he gives in and proudly shares with the crowd as he grabs he walks up and down the stage, “I’m a very lucky man. The luckiest in fact, can you believe I’ve managed to snag one of the hotties from Chicken Shop Date?”

The crowd gets loud again but the noise doesn’t stop the thoughts from leaving the singer’s mouth entirely unfiltered, “I know I can’t. Still have to pinch myself every morning when I wake up next to her. She’s truly the woman of my dreams.” Matty feels his cheeks get hot at the admission, a string of giggles slipping past his lips.

At least the screams he gets as a response feel like validation so he continues with it, “Sorry for being soppy but, I mean… You lot know her, how could I not?” He’s trying to elongate the mic’s wire, knowing which song is next on the setlist and how he’s gonna want to go all around the stage.

But as he finishes unknotting it and pulling it the most he can, he looks back up to the people before him and adds some more, “Isn’t she just fucking gorgeous as well?”

Matty truly could speak about you for hours, it’s not even been a month since you’ve officially gotten together but he has so many things about you pinned to the forefront of his mind and there’s so many things that he thinks about you that he could honestly find himself lost in sentences regarding all that you are and what you’ve achieved and every little thing you do.

So it’s no surprise that his tongue wants to let loose and spill all of these thoughts out but then he hears George call him, “Simp,” through his in-ears and all of the band giggles when it stops Matty in his tracks.

He turns around to look at the drummer with a glare and he calls him out, “Alright George, piss off. I don’t say shit when you’re with Charli.”

It makes the crowd laugh and holler, some of them spouting comments in the air that get lost in the chaos of so many people shouting at the same time but in a couple of seconds it settles and a particular scream manages to make itself clear out of the crowd and Matty cackles loudly into the mic, “Someone’s just said foursome.”

George laughs into the mic as well, and Matty manages to hear something along the lines of, “You can be in the corner recording.” in between the crowd’s loud screams at the prospect of the lewd proposition.

“Let’s not bring that back to Y/N’s attention please, I’ve already gone through that chat.” Matty admits with a cheeky smile, hoping that you’re listening to this and already picturing in his mind the way you must be flustered at this talk being had on stage in front of thousands of people.

And you are flustered, fanning yourself because you feel scorching hot after everything that has happened in the past ten minutes. So much so, you’ve had to sit down and you’re now watching the screens backstage as you listen to your boyfriend.

“I feel faint.” You let Amelia know, your brows are softly pinched together from how lightheaded and hot you’re feeling but still staring at the screen in front of you with a look that Amelia reads instantly.

With the adrenaline dying down, you can’t quite believe you’ve just done that. You got your robbers kiss, your moment to your favourite song that you’ve only dreamed about since 2013. And now, you and Matty are public. You can’t stop smiling despite the way your heart is beating out of your chest.

Amelia sits beside you, her arm going over your shoulder and she pulls you into her as she giggles before kissing your cheek.

“You’re down bad.” She concludes, she can see it written all over your face and it shines through your eyes and her heart swells in her chest for you.

She’s never seen you so happy.

Despite how soon it may be, you nod in confirmation, “I am.”

From the way your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard and the tingling you feel rushing to every corner of your being, you know it’s more than the adrenaline pumping through your veins that is making your heart beat wildly. After what just happened on stage, there’s no way you can deny that your feelings for Matty are getting stronger with every second you spend by his side.

It’s crazy. It’s rushed. It’s far too soon. You can almost clearly hear everyone telling you.

But you know in your heart, nothing and nobody has ever felt more right.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: We hope you enjoyed this one because we truly loved writing it so much. We were so emotional thinking about how this was originally the end, so glad we got more content to continue writing about! We just wanted to say that we’re not having the Friedland podcast in this story because we have no interest in touching that subject in a work of fiction that we consider an escape from reality. Instead, since this is a continuation of NRIACC Matty and he wouldn’t have ever taken part in that, we’re having the Brits as they were meant to happen and we’re so excited to write that evening and share it with you guys. Thanks so much for reading again, and for your patience and all the love you give this story, yous are the best! xx 

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[mariacallous]

Since the conversation, if you can call it that, about trans people always seems to come down to bathrooms, I am sure of one thing.

I would much rather share a ladies’ room or a locker room with Sarah McBride than with Nancy Mace.

McBride, of course, was just elected to Congress and, in January, will be the highest-ranking elected official in America who is transgender. The 34-year-old comes to the US House of Representatives after serving in the Delaware legislature; before that, she was the national press secretary of the Human Rights Campaign.

Mace, a member of Congress from South Carolina since 2021, has been on an ugly campaign in recent weeks clearly intended to belittle and marginalize McBride – and to get on TV as much as possible doing so. She has filed a resolution, and the House speaker, Mike Johnson, has given it his nod of approval, that would somehow force trans people to keep out of the congressional bathrooms that reflect their gender identity.

“If you think this bill is about protecting women and not simply a ploy to get on Fox News, you’ve been fooled,” wrote Natalie Johnson, Mace’s former communications director. She added, pointedly, that a real effort to protect women would involve “a bill to bar Matt Gaetz, a sexual predator with an affinity for underage girls, from ever walking those halls again”. (Trump, as you know, tapped the far-right former Florida representative as his attorney general as part of this month’s parade of appalling cabinet choices. Gaetz later withdrew from consideration.)

On Wednesday, McBride reacted with dignity to all the performative insults and abuse. She simply responded that she would follow the rules and that she’s in Congress to represent her Delaware district; I’m sure she’ll eventually find ways to continue her admirable advocacy.

Mace, on the other hand, can’t be described as dignified. She’s running around pasting the word “biological” on restroom doors for photo ops, and snidely tweeting in McBride’s direction about International Men’s Day.

And she’s getting plenty of the media attention she craves.

On one level, this is all part of the unending circus of the Trump era.

On a human level, it’s scary, wrong and damaging.

“As a trans person myself, I’m really worried about where this is headed,” wrote Parker Molloy, who writes incisively about politics and media in her newsletter the Present Age. “I spend each day worrying about whether or not the healthcare that keeps me alive will remain legal, whether I’m going to face new restrictions on where I’m allowed to exist in public, what would happen to me if (god forbid) I wound up in prison for some reason, and whether or not my identity documents like my passport will be retroactively made invalid.”

She added poignantly: “Now, more than ever, I feel alone.”

Trans students may have it even worse. Again, it often comes down to bathrooms.

A lot of children, especially transgender and gender-nonconforming children, avoid bathrooms all day, since that’s where the bullying can be most intense. Thus, advocates say, trans kids often are prone to urinary tract infections or eating disorders because they’ve avoided eating and drinking.

As for the right’s obsession with trans students on sports team, the vast majority have no unfair advantage on the playing fields (or courts, or pools). They are just trying to reap the same benefits of sports as do other kids – leadership, teamwork and friendship.

The meanspirited and misinformed narrative about transgender people makes it difficult for them to feel cared about and to live full lives.

But don’t try to tell that to Mace, whose preoccupation is not with kindness or decency, but with getting attention and winning the culture wars.

As the Daily Beast reported last year, Mace’s staffers were given a handbook that outlined just how intensely this mattered to their boss; they were told to book her on TV multiple times a day, amounting to nine times a week for national outlets and six times a week for local outlets.

In 2021, Mace depicted herself as supportive of LGBTQ+ rights. That was before the tide turned so forcefully and, as Philip Bump of the Washington Post put it, before “the Republican base had been fed a steady diet of anti-trans rhetoric, making trans issues fertile ground for anyone willing to engage in the fight”.

Mace, clearly, is more than willing.

If that means being cruel, then so be it. As writer Adam Serwer observed about Trumpian politics: “The cruelty is the point.”

Meanwhile, vulnerable and marginalized people are made to suffer for trying to be true to themselves. And despite the progress shown by McBride’s election, the world around this milestone seems to be getting increasingly harsh.

[lostinforestbound]

I actually wrote this fic back in January, before ever making a tumblr! I had the idea for a while and I wanted to get it out there even if no one would see it, and now it's at over 100 kudos! Never would I have ever thought the fic would be seen this much, and I'm grateful that people like it! This is also an exploration of Rolan's insecurity and guilt being part of Cal and Lia's lives. Enjoy the tumblr version!

Rolan/GN!Tav

Look Away for a Minute

Rolan is frustrated by how his mind constantly clings to the past. It refuses to move on, and he should be over it by now...right? OR A nightmare tortures Rolan in the night, but Tav is there to help him through it.

Word Count: 3k (AO3)

Relevant Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Nightmare sequence, Mentions of abuse, Mentions of vomiting, Rolan's POV

The crushing pressure of hands around Rolan's throat is too much, cutting off his airway so he couldn’t breathe, and so tight that it could snap his neck in any moment. His sharp nails desperately scrape at the wrists positioned there, trying to find a breath that will never come, his tail lashing out from under him. He wants to fight harder, kick until his bones crack, scream until his voice is gone, bite until his jaw locks and breaks his teeth, but an unrelenting fear paralyzes him in place.

He can’t see the face above him through unfocused eyes; it's cast in an unnatural shadow with cruel blue irises staring down at him. It's unblinking, watching him struggle with a lack of reaction as his throat goes dry as sand, the urge to cough rising in need.

Lorroakan.

Rolan rasps, his nails- his claws leaving angry red welts across Lorroakan's forearms. He didn’t know the answer. What was the gods damned answer? Was it something about divination runes? The creation of the Weave? Or was it the Spellplague in the Year of Blue Fire? N-No, no, it had to be about the Nightsong, the relic that he so aggressively sought after. He can still fix this! He can correct himself and apologize. He'll grovel if he has to, knock his own pride down a few pegs to be more convincing and pathetic, just as his mentor wants him to be. He can do better, he has to do better, for Cal and Lia. After what they've both been through for him, for this damn apprenticeship he wanted so badly, it is the least he can do for them. He will-

“What is this, hm?”

Another face appears above him, one he should be so familiar with but it faded so much over time. It's been so many years since he looked at her portrait, one that was gifted to him by Cal when he was welcomed into their little family; he couldn't bear to look at it again, not after her funeral. Her eyes are just as vicious as Lorroakan’s, but she is someone Rolan fears much more. It makes his blood run cold, body shaking as if he was dunked in the frozen waters of Neverwinter.

“You were the sweetest child, but I see who you are now: A manipulator, and a thief.”

Please, no-

“You stole my family, little one. You stole them away for me. Did you wait idly for me to die in order to take them for yourself?”

The moment he tries to tear his eyes away, a new set of hands forces his head still with a grip on his face, maintaining the eye contact. He chokes still, desperate tears filling his eyes as his struggle intensifies. The tiefling couldn't even give her the courtesy of pleading for mercy, or to apologize, he just wanted to run away; after all, he is a coward. One who couldn't even look at a portrait of the person he thought of as his own mother.

These hands have delicate fingers but are just as tight, enough to bruise his fragile jaw; when did he get so small? “Little Rolan, a greedy child. I gave you my home, I fed you warm meals, and I gave you a bed; was that not enough for you? A selfish boy you are! A pitiful thing. The one time I feed a stray, he comes back for more. He takes and takes and never stops. They don’t need you like you need them. They don’t even want you.“

He knows, he knows that uncomfortably well, but by the gods does he need them. He needs them so badly. If they were gone, he would have nothing else.

He feels himself grow limp as more unnerving words are whispered. Most of it he can’t even register anymore, but he knows one thing for sure.

“They would be better off without you burdening them.”

He wakes with a sharp gasp, sitting up with a disoriented mind with wide golden eyes. Instinctively, he digs his nails into his neck, but it takes him a long moment to realize that there is no hands there, no hands to choke him. He breathes in heavy to get air in his lungs, heart racing as he takes in the dark room around him. He’s in his bedroom. He’s not on the cold wood or even in his workspace inside the tower, where he used to be tutored. He’s alive. He's not suffocating. He’s not dying. He’s not dying. Everything is as it should be.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tries to breathe through his rising panic, but it's not working; every time he sucks air in, it's never enough. He either ends up coughing or barely breathing at all. Nothing and everything feels real at the same time, is he even in the room? The silence presses against his ears, making him feel so, so isolated in the worst way possible. Lorroakan is dead. He can’t hurt him anymore, so why does he still dream of him?

Why does he still dream of her?

“Rolan…” A sleepy voice mutters, before he feels steady arms wrap around his waist, pulling him into another body. He bristles momentarily, almost spiraling into panic once more until he realizes who it is that holds him.

It’s warm, and it’s secure.

It's Tav. It’s safe.

He lets out an exhausted, shaky sigh, leaning back into the hold. His skin glistens from the cold sweat he woke up to. When he lifts up his hands to try and hold theirs, he sees how much they shake; his fingers twitch uncontrollably, and he idly notices that there were small sparks of magic attempting to get conjured. The spell is unrecognizable with how unstable it looks, he can't tell which one it is. Mage Armor? Magic Missile? Thunderwave?-

He feels Tav leave gentle kisses on the back of his neck and across his shoulder blades, making his internal questions pause. “Are you alright?” They question softly, but they know the answer; they know him too well, but it seems they want to hear him say it anyways.

A deep breath echoes in the bedroom, and he squeezes his eyes shut once more as the energy fades from his hands. “No.”

“Do you wish to speak on it?”

“No.”

“For later then. Come here.” They murmur, pulling him to lay back down.

He relents, but he feels disgusting with all the sweat. Gods, why is he sweating so much, and why does he feel cold? The dream was over, it was done.

Tav did not seem to mind the fact he clings to them, turning and letting him hide his face in their neck. It was a little awkward with the horns, but they make it work with their chin resting on his head. He feels their hand start to scratch at his scalp, and the amount of relief that gives him is absolutely embarrassing. His tail curls around their leg to keep them close, and the comforting sensations almost make him want to cry. They peck the top of his head, nuzzling into his sweat damp hair.

He doesn’t deserve this. He really doesn’t.

He’s unsure how long they lay there, it was mostly him trying to calm his heart. He feels fingers gently trace the ridges on his skin, cautious in how they touch. They were sensitive, and the trailing warmth made him shiver. He knows they’re trying to distract him; It’s sweet of them, truly, but his depression grips his chest so deeply. Usually he can handle these on his own. He’s a confident man, and he knows he has Cal and Lia by his side. That they want to stay by his side. If they thought anything else, they wouldn't stay in this tower he took over after the death of his teacher.

But some days are like these, where he can barely move and thinks he deserves nothing after butting into a family that will never be his.

Tav shouldn’t have to deal with this, though they think otherwise, it seems. It isn’t the first time this happened, he's had night terrors that sent him in a panic so bad he vomited and he can't even remember what it was even about. It bewildered and embarrassed him, but Tav didn't even say anything about it, they only cleaned him and the mess up as if it was not a problem. It won’t be the last time this will occur, no matter how much he wants it to be. But that’s what Tav signed up for, happily. They wanted Rolan, with all of his flaws and night terrors.

They shift slightly, pulling Rolan's body on top of them so he can rest there, arms snaking around his waist. Holding him close, their grip was loose in case this wasn’t okay. But Rolan only lays limply against them, energy gone but unable to go back sleep.

He just sees eyes.

“-ght, Rolan?”

Oh, they’re calling him. He can’t force his tongue to work. It feels heavy in his mouth.

They push some hair away from his eyes before cupping his jaw. “My love,” He listens, but their voice is muffled when it tries to reach his ears, a constant ring blocking the sound. It’s so loud. So loud. So loud-

A part of him startles when they start rubbing at his ears. They’re particularly sensitive, they know this after nibbling on them at some point in an attempt to be playful, and it’s enough to make him whine at the touch.

“Rolan,” They murmur, kissing him right between the eyes. “Come back to me, lovely. You'll be okay; you're with me, yes?”

He wants to believe that, even just for a little bit.

He buries his face in their chest, wanting to lay there. To be held, to be comforted. Doesn’t he deserve that after all the bullshit he’s been through? After the torture, the pain, the loneliness?

No.

No he doesn’t, and the thought alone makes him want to drink until he's numb, just like at Last Light Inn, where he thought his siblings, his only family, were dead and gone. Or possibly being tortured at Moonrise Towers. He doesn't know which one was worse to think about, his imagination knowing no bounds in its creativity. What would they have done, if the True Souls decided to hurt them? Would they take their eyes and cut out their tongues like how they did with Asharak-

Before his mind could grow darker, thumbs continue stroking his pointy ears as Tav speaks, “What’s the difference between Transmutation and Evocation? I keep forgetting...” Tav quizzes, feigning innocence.

A foolish question, even a child could answer it…but it’s distracting.

“Transmutation will physically alter the form of an object, or fundamentally change something in its entirety. Evocation is damaging effects mostly used in combat, but will also be used to heal wounds, as you see with clerics.”

“And what is another school useful in combat?”

“Abjuration; it specializes in defense protocols but some spells can be useful in combat, like Counterspell.”

They hum at the response, pulling him up more to kiss his forehead, right between his devilish horns. “You’re so smart, Master Rolan.”

He lets out a stuttering breath. Gods, this night is awful. He feels awful, Tav shouldn't have to deal with this.

When they suddenly start to sit up, his already fragile heart dropped into his nauseated stomach. Did they get sick of him already? Are they going to leave? Will they-

“Let’s take a bath.”

This snaps him out of his raging thoughts, staring at their eyes. "It’s late,” He states after a long moment of contemplating.

“So? Who’s going to be knocking on our door telling us not to take a bath in our own home? It’s your tower,” They say, helping him sit up as well before smiling teasingly. “Let’s take a bath, I’m sure being all sweaty is grossing you out.”

He is reluctant, but doesn’t say no when they help him out of the bed. It felt as if his body refused to move. It’s tense and rigid, his tail curled around his own leg. He can't look at them, and he’s unsure if it’s out of shame or out of fear. Fear of what? Tav? No, no! That would be idiotic to fear them. They love him. He loves them. He loves them so much it hurts. If he could rip out his very soul and gift it to them, he would do so without a second thought.

Their hand holds his firmly, something to ground him into their reality, and they lead him towards their private bathing room, decorated in lovely tapestries with a variety of colors. Some have subtle designs and are more abstract, while others have vivid images of Tav's heroics of Baldur's Gate. It's a courtesy of some citizens that they were gifted, but he cannot tell yet if they even like them there or not; still, he hung them up high for display because...well, he is so proud of them, how could he not be? He certainly thinks some of them are tacky, and he voices that opinion often, and it always makes his love laugh. The sweet, delicate smell of lavender hits his senses after Tav fills their large basin with water, bubbles forming almost instantly.

He watches their movements, seeing them strip off their clothes and kicking them off the side before they approach him again. Their hands smooth over his forearms, and they peck his nose as they unlace his trousers, stripping him as well. He lets them, a feral instinct inside of him begging for the touch, begging for any form of love they’re willing to give. He wants all of it, and he’s selfish for it.

They lead him into the basin first, getting in themselves after he’s settled. They then gently turn him around so he could press his back against their chest. It would be easier to wash his hair this way.

Both of them exchange no words, they only bathe Rolan while they hum to themselves, as if this was normal. This isn’t normal. He doesn’t deserve to be pampered when he’s done absolutely nothing to earn it. But he’s also too weak to resist.

So he lets them run their fingers through his hair, their nails scratching his scalp and rubbing the soap in. He closes his eyes when requested, letting the warm wash over him. Even when his hair and body are clean from the cold sweat, Tav insists on massaging his shoulders, working out any knots he may have. Being the master of a tower is stressful, after all.

During this he zones out, the silence deafening him as his thoughts run rampant once more. He hears them speak to him but the phrases never form coherently. Flashes of the dream drag him down into a form of despair, boring into him like ice pick.

His eyes start to sting, but then his worst fear comes to life; he starts to weep. He’s cried very few times in his life, and even then, those few times they at least warranted tears. He was allowed to cry. But this? In front of Tav and over a gods damned dream?

It only gets worse, because the weeping turns into full blown sobs, body curling forward with his face almost touching the dirty water as he hugs himself tight. His body thinks it’s in danger, somehow, and he can’t pull himself together. Voices tell him he’s nothing and deserves nothing.

Tav soothes him, leaning over him and littering kisses across his shoulders. They say nothing, and he’s thankful for it. He can’t imagine trying to speak in this state, when he tries his words die on his tongue. It's as if like he’s choking all over again, and the urge to cough grows.

Eventually his sobs delude to into sniffles and barely silent whimpers. Tav still doesn’t speak, nuzzling into the soaked skin on the back of his neck. When he calms down, Tav helps him out of the basin after getting out themselves, drying him off and changing him into new night clothes, one that was clean and softer than the one he chose before. He felt pathetic not being able to change himself, but he had no will to do so.

“I’m sorry,” He hears himself croak out. “You should be sleeping.”

Gods, they shouldn't have to even deal with him. What he went through is only a fraction of what they've been through. They saved the entire Sword Coast, possibly the entire world from the Absolute, all while they had a damn tadpole in their heads threatening to turn them and their friends into illithids. Yet, they're doing so gods damn well in their lives, a greedy part of him thinking it's unfair. Why are they fine while he is not? How did they do it?

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You had a bad dream, it happens more often than you would think,” They say, tracing their lips against his cheek while he processes the implication of their statement. “We don’t have to talk about it now. Just know that I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Though he lacks the energy for it, his mind wants to kiss them so deeply a never let go. He wants to drown in them, in their scent, in their body- damn it all, why is he so needy? He hates- no, he loathes how needy he is, how fucking desperate he gets. It's pathetic; he is so utterly pathetic. Pitiful. Miserable.

When they pull him back to their shared bed and lay down once more, they let him get as close as he wants, and he is thankful for it. It ends up with arms around them tight, him burying his face into their neck while his tail curls around their thigh. He wants to be close tonight, a silent plea for them to let him know everything is okay.

So they indulge his wish, playing with his hair all the while. He probably won’t sleep much tonight, but that’s okay by them, they always preach. It’s not the first time, and it won’t be the last, and they can and will live with that.

Healing is never linear, after all.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 35

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words: 5k

Masterlist

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Sunday, January 10; 10:55 AM -  Lucy’s Room

I roll over in bed onto my stomach and groan in frustration as I realize I'm alone again in this big bed. The reason becomes clear when I see that it’s almost eleven on the clock. She must have been awake for at least two hours, if not more.  Lucy won’t be able to say I didn’t catch up on sleep—I haven’t slept past ten in a long time. I stretch out all my limbs on my back, then take a moment to look around this room, unsure if I’ll ever see it again. It’s the first time I’ve felt this comfortable in a place I’ve only just discovered. I take a deep breath before leaving the room and slowly heading to the living room. When I arrive,  Lucy is casually lying on the couch with a book in hand. I smile when I see she’s wearing the glasses I like so much. Not wanting to disturb her, I just sit beside her bent knees.

“Hey,” she says, looking up from her book.

“Hey… I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” she smiles. “Do you want something to eat?”

“No thanks… Considering the time, I think I’ll just wait until noon.”

“Whatever you like. You can still eat if you’re hungry. Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah… Better once I fell back asleep.”

“No more nightmares?” she asks, and I shake my head in response. “Good… Think about what you want to do today. I’m going to shower in the meantime.”

“Did you wait until I got up to shower?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to wake you up by rummaging for my things in the bedroom.”

“You’re silly, you could have. I’m a heavy sleeper. Not much wakes me up.”

“I’ll remember that next time.”

She sets her book down on the small table before getting up. I can’t help but let my eyes follow her as she walks down the hallway. How could I not when she’s still in pajamas that show off her perfectly smooth, bare legs? That outfit proves she didn’t go for a run; otherwise, she’d be in joggers.

“Wait, Luce!”

“Yes?” she says, turning around.

“C-Can I use your phone? I’d like to call Mapi while you’re busy.”

“It’s right there, code 4086.”

“Thanks!”

I give her one of my brightest smiles, which she returns before disappearing into the bathroom. Once she’s out of sight, I grab her phone and enter the code, which works. She’d never told me before; she always entered it herself. I’m not about to betray her trust, so I just dial my best friend’s number, which I know by heart. She picks up after the fourth ring.

“Hey guapa, you finally found time to call me?”

“ Lucy’s in the shower, I’m taking advantage.”

“Of course, because otherwise, impossible! You’re calling from her phone, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, don’t you dare save her number.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she giggles. “So, how’s the weekend going?”

“Perfect, really.”

I give her a rundown of everything  Lucy has shown me. I leave out a few details, like how she let me drive or the secret spots she took me to. I also tell her about the evening we spent with her friends. She asks if Ingrid and Jenni were there, sounding a bit sad that she couldn’t join us. She was here just a few days ago, but I think she enjoyed her time in Manchester. She acts tough, but I know she has a big heart and gets attached quickly. Probably faster than I do, which says a lot. I used to get attached to people quickly before the incident I went through. I fall silent when I hear someone talking to her. I try to recognize the voice, but it’s too faint.

“It’s Ona, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

I hear her respond, but she’s moved the phone away from her ear. I try to listen more closely and finally recognize the voice— Lana. You’ve got to be kidding me!

“You’re at it again?” I scold.

“Ona—”

“No, no, no, don’t give me that! You’re giving her false hopes again when she’s just a hookup to you!” I snap.

“I can’t help it, OK?” she blurts out. “Ever since I came back to Barcelona, it’s been miserable,” she sighs. “And you not having a phone isn’t helping!”

“I’m sorry, Maps… I’ll ask Ale to let me borrow hers more often.”

“When are you getting your new phone?”

“I have no idea,” I sigh. “ Lucy destroyed my SIM card. I have to go through my mom to get a new one.”

“Great,” she says sarcastically. “I need a distraction! I’m going to explode otherwise.”

“I’m sorry I’m not there…”

“It’s not your fault, don’t worry about it. Anyway, let’s change the subject.”

“Do you want to come to Manchester next week?” I suggest.

“Very funny, and where would we stay?”

“I can ask Lucy if she knows of any good places. We can use taxis to get around.”

“That’s going to cost a fortune… I can’t afford it, and you know it.”

“My mom gives me money every month, Mapi. It’s one of the few things she does right.”

“There’s no way you’re paying for everything, don’t even think about it,” she grumbles.

“You can stay with me.”

I jump and turn to see Lucy. She’s leaning against the couch with a smile plastered on her face. I can’t find any words or react. I hate her. She has no right to show up in front of me in just a robe with her hair still dripping wet!

“Sorry, I heard my name so I figured I’d listen in. She wants to come to Manchester, right?” she asks.

“Uh… Yeah,” I reply, avoiding eye contact.

“You two can stay here if you want.”

“No way! I don’t want to bother you for another weekend.”

“It wouldn’t bother me if I’m the one offering.”

“Can we talk about this later?”

“Sure, I’m not done anyway. I’m going to get dressed and dry my hair.”

“Uh-huh…”

She runs her hand through my hair and heads back where she came from. I put the phone back to my ear as Mapi bombards me with questions. She asks why I turned down  Lucy’s offer and comments on how weird I was acting. How could I not be? I’m relieved to hear the hairdryer in the bathroom.

“Oh, shut up,” I groan. “Stay out of my love life, for God’s sake!”

“I never mentioned your love life,” she teases.

“I’m bringing it up because I ran into Alex last night.”

“Alex, the guy you met at the skating rink?”

“Yeah, that Alex.”

“Oooh! No, wait, that guy was so annoying! He kept asking me questions about you! I forbid you from going out with someone like him!”

“Girl I’m straight as a circle of course I m not going out with him ,” I roll my eyes.

“Can we go back to talking about Lucy? Seriously, you like her, admit it already!”

“Never, Leon.”

“Liar! She doesn’t leave you indifferent, I noticed it when I saw you two together.”

“Whatever. What are you getting at now?”

“It’s as clear as day. I haven’t seen you so much like yourself in a long time! She does more for you than I ever imagined.”

I sigh, massaging my temples. I wanted to talk to her about this, but not over the phone. Plus, I don’t like being pressured into saying things.

“Admit it, Batlle.”

“Fine, you win,” I groan. “I like her, okay?”

“Hallelujah! Oh my God, it’s about time! I knew it from the first time you talked about her,” she says excitedly. “You don’t even realize how attached you are to her!”

“I’m not attached,” I roll my eyes. “Anyway, nothing will ever happen between us.”

“Why not?”

“She’s my boss, remember? The girl completely obsessed with rules. She doesn’t even approve of Jenni and Ale’s relationship… She’s definitely not going to accept ours if anything were to happen…”

“I’m almost sure you don’t leave her indifferent either. But it’s obvious she doesn’t leave you indifferent.”

“You’re right, she doesn’t leave me indifferent, but I’m not in love. She’s just helping me feel better and get better. That’s all.”

“If you say so. Anyway, you two care a lot about each other.”

“Stop it, Mapi… You know I’m not ready for a new relationship anyway.”

“It would do you some good, you know.”

“And you’re the one telling me this?”

“Oh, come on! No need to compare us.”

“Anyway, I’ve got to go. Lucia is done and she’ll be back soon,” I say, hearing the hairdryer stop.

“Lucia, huh?” she teases.

“Maria Pilar Leon, enough already!” I groan.

“I couldn’t resist,” she laughs. “Try making her jealous. You’ll see if she wants more with you.”

“Okay, I’m hanging up.

"Yeah, go ahead and run," she laughs. "Say hi to her for me and have a good day with your girl!"

"Ugh... Thanks, you too. Bye."

Just as I hang up,  Lucy reappears. I notice she hasn't put on any makeup. She ignores me and heads to the kitchen. I get on my knees and rest my elbows on the back of the couch, watching her. It's hard when she's facing away from me.

"Thanks for the phone," I say, waving it in the air.

"You're welcome. Finished with Mapi already?" she asks, finally turning around.

"Yeah, that was enough for the week," I chuckle.

"I thought it would last longer. How is she?"

"Not too well," I sigh, resting my head between my arms. "That's why I suggested she come next week. Are you sure you don't know any cheap places we could stay?"

"I already offered here."

She turns to lean against the counter, crossing her arms. I smile when she tilts her head. I get the feeling she's trying to assess me curiously.

"I've already imposed on you long enough. Besides, you don't know what it's like having Mapi around for days."

"You're not going to pay for a hotel when I'm offering a free place, are you?"

"You're a pain... You have no idea what you're getting into."

"No, but I'm willing to take the risk," she laughs. "It only holds if you have permission, anyway."

"Hey, I've become responsible!"

"If you say so. Try to stay that way, then."

She turns back to continue what she was doing. I decide to join her to help out. I haven't done much since yesterday, and I'm eager to lend a hand now that I'm allowed to.

"Can I help?"

"I thought you didn't know how to cook?"

"It's never too late to learn, right?"

"That's true. How about some chicken stir-fry?"

"One of my favorite dishes," I admit.

"Perfect. You'll cut the chicken, then."

She looks for the meat in the fridge and then comes back to my side. I grimace at the sight of the fillets she places on a wooden board. She smiles, noticing my reaction. I've never cooked in my life, and she seems to have figured out my problem because she starts giving me instructions. I start by washing my hands while  Lucy looks for a knife. I grimace even more when I take the meat with my fingers.

"Ona, it's not going to bite," she laughs.

"This stuff is so slimy! It sticks to your fingers."

"You've never seen a chicken fillet before?"

"I've seen it... Touching it is a different story!"

She laughs even harder, which makes me pout. I put the chicken down when she hands me the knife.

"And you wonder why I think of you as a princess."

"Hey! I'm far from being one. It's not my fault I was never taught this stuff!"

"True. I'll get you used to it quickly, just wait."

She leans back against the counter, arms crossed, watching me cut the meat with a smile that doesn't leave her face. Her laughter tells me I'm doing it wrong.

"That's not how you do it, Ona. Watch."

She shows me there's a notch in the fillet. She opens it in half and asks me to cut down the middle. Once done, it's much easier to cut into small cubes.  Lucy still manages to critique me, saying I should make the pieces larger.

"And how do you plan to live later if you can't even cut a simple fillet?"

"I'll wait for you to give me lessons."

"Just that?"

"You're a whiz in the kitchen. I even prefer your dishes over Sam's, believe it or not!"

"How lucky. I haven't cooked anything special yet, just a pizza."

"That was enough to judge! I've got an idea! Can I hire you as my personal chef? But, like, for free, of course!"

"What next? If you want my services, you'll have to pay big."

She winks at me and moves to the other side of the kitchen. I watch her start the water for the pasta.

"Hey! Just because I'm not next to you doesn't mean you should stop," she scolds.

"Sorry," I giggle. "I was watching what you were doing."

I quickly finish cutting the two small fillets, which are more than enough for the two of us. She takes out a saucepan, places it on another burner, and asks me to bring the meat. She asks me to pour it all into the saucepan to cook, adding an onion and mushrooms. I watch as she stirs the meat occasionally and when she puts the pasta in the boiling water.

"Did you really learn all this by yourself?"

"Mostly, yes. Why?"

"I'll never be able to do this one day."

"Yes, you will. It comes naturally over time."

"It'll take a lot of practice before I get there."

"There's a first time for everything. Come here, you'll finish it."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea..."

"It's not difficult, I promise."

I position myself in front of her as she directs. She explains what to do and especially stops me from overdoing the cream, salt, and spices. We let everything cook, making sure not to burn anything. She then lets me handle the pasta while she sets the table. When everything is ready, we bring the dishes over. I realize I'm not even dressed yet, but it doesn't seem to bother  Lucy. She would have said something if it did. I sit in the same spot as yesterday morning while she serves us both a plate.

"You're aware you're about to taste your first dish, right?" she smiles.

"Yeah, but you helped me a lot."

"But you did everything yourself," she replies, sitting across from me. "I should've started with this, it's basic."

"Ha ha ha! I still know to put pasta in water to cook, thank you!"

"With oil and salt."

"With oil and salt," I repeat as if it's obvious.

My credibility just crumbled. Of course, I didn't know that detail. I'm ashamed that I don't even know how to make pasta.

"Next time, you'll do it alone."

I smile shyly, thinking she wants me to come back someday. On top of that, she'll teach me how to cook. I'm not going to complain about learning something so simple. Now I'm eager to taste what I've made. We wish each other "bon appétit," and I quickly fill my mouth with a well-loaded fork. I let out an involuntary moan of satisfaction as I close my eyes. Damn, this is good!

"Alright, you're really a good teacher," I say with my mouth full. "If I make this at home, they won't believe it!"

"Oh, so you're planning to do it again? Please do it with someone else, okay?" she laughs.

"You're so mean!"

"I'm joking, Ona," she smiles.

"Mhm, I doubt it."

"Of course I am. So, have you thought about what you want to do today?"

"You don't have anything planned?"

"No, nothing at all."

"Then I don't want to do anything."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, just enjoy the calm, if that's okay with you. A movie, read a book, or maybe a board game if you're up for it... But I don't really feel like going out today."

"Alright, that works for me."

I really needed this moment of calm after the weekend. I don't get these moments at school, where we're constantly around others. We finish our meal talking about current movies and series that might interest us for the afternoon. We clear the table, then I head back to my room to get dressed. I take the opportunity to make my bed, which I didn't use much. I wanted to do hers too, but she had already made it when I went to her room.

"Is something wrong?" she asks when she sees me standing in the doorway.

"No, no," I quickly reply.

"Are you done?"

"Almost. I just need to brush my teeth and hair because this isn't working anymore," I say, pointing to my head.

"If you say so," she laughs. "I'll wait for you in the living room."

I let her go out first. I stop by the bathroom, where my things are still here from yesterday. I easily find her toothpaste because I, of course, forgot mine at school, and I brush my teeth. Thankfully, she doesn't mind me using her stuff. It still bothers me to have to rummage through her things, like last time when I couldn't find her cotton pads right away. They were right in front of me the whole time. I must have taken too long because a few minutes later,  Lucy comes back to ask if everything's okay. She comes in with my permission just as I'm wiping my face.

"You don't need to make yourself pretty, you know," she laughs.

"I'm not making myself pretty. I'm making myself presentable."

"You're very presentable," she giggles. "Even with messy hair."

"Sure, keep teasing me."

"I'm not lying."

"Mhm. Does it bother you if I take another shower here before leaving tonight?"

"Of course not. You don't have to ask for that."

"Thanks... Are we watching a movie now?"

She nods and steps aside to let me pass. I toss the cotton pad I just used before leaving. After a long debate, we decided to continue the Harry Potter series. I was fully into it until  Lucy got bored and decided to mess with me. If you had told me one day I'd find myself on a couch with her, and she'd be tickling me, I would have laughed at the absurdity. But that's exactly what's happening.

" Lucy Bronze!" I cry out between laughs. "You're such a child!"

"You're the younger one!" she retorts.

"Well, it doesn't seem like it! Stop it," I giggle under her attacks.

I have to twist and turn to escape her. Since I can't, I decide to climb on top of her to pin her down. It's only when she stops laughing that I realize the position I've put us in. She's sprawled out beneath me as I straddle her hips, holding her hands on either side of her head. She stops when she doesn't hear me laugh anymore. My hair falling over her face must be hiding my blushing cheeks. I try to get up, but my hand slips, and I collapse onto her like a ragdoll.  Lucy's laughter rings in my ears. I try again to get up, but this time an arm wraps around my shoulders, holding me in place.

"Lucia..."

"Shhh. Relax and lay down a bit »

I catch her eyes, which show no hint of humor. She slowly forces me to rest my head against her chest so I can keep watching the movie this way. The feeling of being held captive against her gives me butterflies in my stomach. I bite my lip as she starts to gently stroke my hair.

"Relax, Ona..."

"Sorry... I-I’m not used to this anymore."

My trembling voice betrays me. I’m enjoying the moment, but I know it's not right.

"So enjoy it."

That’s exactly the problem. Enjoy. She doesn’t realize in what way I’m enjoying it. I admit defeat when I realize she won’t let me go. I can’t keep watching the movie like I was just a few minutes ago. My thoughts are consumed by the person I’m lying on. She’s going to drive me crazy if she keeps this up. I don’t understand what’s happening to me in her presence. It wasn’t like this at the beginning. Everything just changed. Or have I only just realized it? I let my fingers slide down her sides, moving up and down repeatedly. I smile as I feel her shiver. She asks me to stop, but the urge to continue is stronger. I would love to thank her for everything, but I stay silent to avoid ruining the moment. My hand starts to ache from twisting my arm this way, so I slide between her body and the back of the couch. She grunts slightly as I crush her in the process. I rest my head on her shoulder and leave one of my legs on hers. This way, I can continue the same gentle touches she’s giving me on my head, now on her belly, without straining my arm. I enjoy this peaceful moment by closing my eyes for a moment.

Sunday, January 10; 6:00 PM - At  Lucy's place

I grumble when I'm shaken gently. I cling to the fabric beneath my hand. I open my eyes when I’m shaken harder the second time.

"Wake up, Ona."

"Hummmm... Did I fall asleep?" I ask in a hoarse voice.

"Yeah," she replies cheerfully.

I release what I’m holding when I realize it’s  Lucy’s sweater. I rub my eyes under her amused smile.

"Come on, get up, Princess. I need to cook if we don’t want to be late for school."

"Can’t we wait a little longer?"

"I’ve already waited to wake you up. I need to cook so we can eat, and we need to pack too."

"What time is it?"

"Six Ale’clock. At least let me get up, please."

I shift to free her side that I was holding. I lie back down the moment she gets up and moves out of my sight. I sigh in displeasure, feeling only the warmth she left behind. I clutch the pillow, hoping it can replace her presence.

"You’d better not fall back asleep."

"Or what?" I challenge.

"You don’t want to know."

I chuckle lightly. I focus on the screen where a series has replaced our movie, which must have ended a long time ago. I recognize Grey’s Anatomy. I used to love watching this series, but that was before I started studying in the field.

"What are we eating?" I ask.

"We have some pasta left. I was planning to make bolognese. Does that work for you?"

"Hmm..."

"And if you would bring your butt here to give me a hand?"

"You’re asking a lot."

I still get up to drag my feet to the kitchen under her laughter. I lean against the counter to watch her prepare. She smiles at me and gestures for me to come over.

"Here, turn the meat if needed."

She leaves me in front of a pot filled with meat and onions cooking. I look at it with a panicked expression when she takes out things to set the table.

"What do I need to do?"

"I just told you. Just turn the meat," she laughs. "I’ve already seasoned it. You should be able to handle this without me, right?"

"I’m not sure," I joke.

"Helpless."

"Only because of you."

"Oh yeah?" she raises an eyebrow.

"Yeah. You’re lucky, huh?"

"From what I see in front of me..." she says, looking me up and down. "Not really, no."

I part my lips in shock. It’s been a while since she’s scolded me like that, even if it’s in jest. She laughs while approaching me.

"Don’t forget to turn the meat."

I regain my composure while stirring the pot under her watchful eye. When it’s ready for her, she pours the tomato sauce and takes my place to mix everything together.

"A real princess," she teases with a shoulder bump.

"I’m more of a burden, really."

"What?" she giggles.

Her eyes settle on me when I stop answering. I meant what I just said. It’s how I feel. She doesn’t say anything and tastes her sauce with a spoon. Then she puts a lid on the pot and lowers the heat. I stay where I am while she throws the spoon she used into the sink. It’s at this moment that I feel her eyes on my back. I head towards the table to avoid her, but she blocks me against the counter before I can get there.

"I thought we had moved past this stage of feeling bad."

"Don’t think less of me."

"Hey, it was a joke. Look at me."

I turn to face her. She’s closer than I expected, but I don’t let myself be unsettled.

"It’s the truth! I’m just a simple burden you’re dragging behind you."

"No," she sighs. "You’re much more than that, Ona. Alright? Get that idea out of your head, okay? You might be a little princess, but I will always support you."

I lower my head, nodding slightly and biting my lip. Why does she always have the right words to reassure me? I let myself fall into her arms that she just opened for me.

"Come on, go sit down. I’ll handle the rest."

I do as she asks while keeping an eye on her. She heats the pasta and joins me shortly after with the dishes. I serve the drinks while she fills our plates. We enjoy our last moments together by chatting a bit. The conversation turns to what we might do with Mapi next week. It looks like she’s decided to host us. After dinner, I help her clear the table before we return to our rooms. I pack my suitcase with reluctance, making sure not to forget anything.

"It’s not the end of the world if you forget something, you know," she says, leaning against the door frame.

"That’s true, but it would bother me."

"We need to leave. Is everything okay for you?"

"Yep..."

"Don’t make that face, you’ll be back next week," she teases.

"Hmm... Let’s go before I hide under the bed."

I roll my suitcase to the living room where hers is already. I take one last look at the apartment before she turns off all the lights and locks the door. With a heavy heart, we take the elevator to her car. This weekend was amazing. Way too amazing. I don’t say anything during the drive back. She stops after a while, and I realize we’ve arrived at the place where I joined her on Friday night.

"You’ll need to walk the rest," she says softly.

"Yeah... Thanks for the weekend."

"It was a pleasure. Is everything okay...?" she asks uncertainly.

"Yeah," I repeat. "Good night,  Lucy."

"Good night to you."

She gives me a smile that I return weakly. I get out of the car and grab my suitcase before watching the car drive off into the night. I finish the walk to the reception where the old secretary is waiting for us. This very warm woman wishes me a good week. I continue to my room where Alexia greets me as soon as I drop my things. She bombards me with questions about my weekend. She’s so much like Mapi with that behavior. The only difference is that she doesn’t force me to talk about it. I pretend I need to take a shower to escape, as I didn’t have time to shower at  Lucy’s after my nap. I manage to get into bed just before curfew. That kept me from having to talk, as I know Ale wouldn’t want to deal with the supervisor on duty. I wouldn’t want to either, given the weekend I’ve had. I think  Lucy would have saved the day, but I can’t always rely on her. She already does so much for me, and I need to adhere to the rules. In complete silence, I search for sleep, which is elusive after my long nap.

Monday, January 11; 2:20 AM - Ona and Alexia’s room

I startle awake, the duvet thrown off me. I’m seized by a sudden suffocation. I blink several times to understand that the light is already on. Alexia gets up and comes to me. I can’t catch my breath and feel sticky with sweat again.

"Hey, it’s okay, it’s just a nightmare."

I start to tremble under Alexia's caresses. Please, anything but this... I place my head in my hands to prevent the panic attack from getting worse. I flinch when the bedroom door opens to reveal someone I don’t recognize. It must be the night instructor  Lucy told me about. It's the first time she’s intervened in our room, and she doesn’t look very pleased.

- What’s going on here? she asks sternly.

- She’s having nightmares; it’s not the first time, Alexia explains.

- Br... Bronze, I manage to say. Call...

- Do you want me to get Bronze?

I nod faintly as I struggle to breathe. It feels like my head is going to explode. All I hear are hissing noises making me whimper and close my eyes. I bury my head in my arms to lessen the violent dizziness that’s overtaking me, but it makes it worse. I’m forced to pull it out to try and get some air. When I open my eyes again, I see Alexia trying to talk to me, but I can’t make out anything. She looks very worried and desperate. The minutes drag on until Bronze arrives in the room. It’s as if time had paused. I must look terrible with my face soaked in uncontrollable tears. Alexia immediately gives way to my supervisor. Her first instinct is to grab my head in her hands so that I only look at her. Her lips move, but I still hear nothing but unpleasant hissing. I pray that she understands my state as I desperately cling to her shirt. She lets me cling to her when I pull her close. Her arms simply wrap around my neck as I whimper against her. Her reassuring scent quickly fills my lungs. I close my eyes to savor her caresses that I can finally feel. There, she’s all I needed to feel reassured and safe. She stays as long as needed for me to calm down and return to reality. I start to hear her soft whispers again, and it’s at this moment that I realize I’m completely sprawled on her. My grip on her shirt slowly loosens as I understand that I’m safe now.

- I’m here; I’m not letting go, she repeats.

I take in all her words until I’m overcome with a sense of guilt. I start crying again.

- I- I’m sorry... I’m sorry... I... I stammer.

- Hey, shhh. It’s okay, alright? Calm down. I’m here now.

I close my eyes and bury my face a little further into her neck. I take in all the security she offers. A terrible headache comes over me, forcing me to pull away slightly from  Lucy. She loosens her grip slightly, understanding my intention. I try to make sure she can’t see my awful face. She doesn’t take it well and grabs my face to examine it with a worried look. I break our eye contact to look at Alexia behind her, who seems terrified. I panic when I feel  Lucy trying to get up. She smiles gently.

- I’ll be right back, I promise.

I trust her and release her against my will. She comes back shortly with a glass of water and a pill. I take it without a word, reminded of my headache. She sits back on the edge of my bed and runs her thumbs over my cheeks.

- We need to find a solution. I’ll have to talk to Wiegman in the morning.

I give her a difficult nod of agreement. I know she would do things differently if she could. She sighs, running her hand through her hair and staring at the door. It’s closed, probably to keep the whole floor from being disturbed by my fault. I lower my eyes to the glass I’m holding, but I look up immediately when  Lucy stands. I hold her back with my eyes.

- Stay with me... Please.

- Ona... she sighs. I can’t do that.

- I won’t be able to fall back asleep without you, I whisper, lowering my head.

I know this in advance. I’ve gotten used to something I shouldn’t have. I look at her when I don’t get a response. Her eyes linger on Alexia before settling back on me. I bite my lip, dreading her response.

- Alright, she cracks with a sigh. I just need to talk to the other instructor first, but for that, you’ll have to let me go.

She looks at where I’m holding her, and I immediately release my grip.

- Go back to sleep, Alexia. And I want your silence about what’s going to happen tonight.

With those words, she exits, taking care to leave the door open. I don’t like that she’s threatening Ale, but she risks a lot by agreeing to my request. I collapse onto the bed and look at my roommate, who was already staring at me.

- You scared me to death! I really didn’t know what to do this time! Luckily, Bronze came. I really couldn’t have calmed you down like she did! she rushes out.

- I’m sorry you had to witness that.

- Blake, I told you to go back to sleep,  Lucy, who has just returned, says.

She closes the door behind her. Alexia is still very intimidated by her, which makes me smile a little.  Lucy is so cold with her at the same time. She approaches my bed and grimaces, probably noticing the size. She sighs and turns off the light.

- Alright, move over, she whispers.

I comply by shifting to the side of the bed. I feel her slide in behind me, covering us properly before placing her hand on my stomach.

- We seriously need to find a solution, she grumbles in a way that only I can hear.

Luckily, it’s dark, and she can’t see my smile. I snuggle a little closer into her arms, pulling the blanket up to my neck. As usual since this weekend, she caresses my stomach to calm me, which works perfectly. She whispers goodnight before I close my eyes and fall asleep again.

[lactoseintolerentswag]

Spider-Man Noir: The Timeline Part 1 (2009, issues #1-4)

Okay so Noir is a wild ride considering how Quickly everything happens, so I took a dig at tracking the time passed through each plot point. Obviously Heavy spoilers if you haven't read the Spider-Man Noir (2009) run. Go read that now if you want to keep digging here. If not that's fine, this is like. For me and 4 other noir heads in my notes.

Spider-Man Noir begins with a flashforward with Noir in a particularly incriminating scene with "JJ" in January 1933.

However Noir's story starts three weeks earlier in December 1932.

Now it's unclear in the shift to Urich's perspective when he says "three weeks ago", whether he meat three weeks prior to his murder or three weeks prior to where the flashforward took place. I'm operating off the belief that it's the former.

So, our notes start:

All within the same night Ben Urich meets Aunt May (who he has never seen in person, but is aware of her reputation) and Peter, takes Peter to the Black Cat speakeasy, and sets Peter up with a job at the Bugle

Within the first week of working under Urich, Peter opens up to Urich about what happened to his Uncle

Two weeks later, Urich and Peter's photo of the fire makes it to the late edition of the Daily Bugle. Btw the late edition of a paper is published in the evening, and can cover breaking news that wasn't covered in the morning edition

Within this same night Peter discovers Urich's drug addiction, takes a call meant for Urich's "Spider" alias, witnesses Goblin's goons move around boxes of artifacts meant for the Metropolitan Museum, and gets bitten by one of the spiders from the broken statue

The next morning Urich has a meeting with the Goblin, Peter attacks the Goblin, and retreats upon the discovery of Urich's involvement

That night Urich plans to spill all his collected black mail to the Bugle, but is killed by the JJ imposter, in which Felicia secretly witnesses. This same night Peter sews together his suit, and is the one to find Ben's body

Interrupting the flow here to poke at this. This bit of inner monologue gives us an estimate to when Uncle Ben was murdered. Six months ago from an unspecified time in January is about the middle of summer, but only if Peter is being straightforward about how much time it would take to save Uncle Ben.

Other tid bits about Uncle Ben:

Served as a pilot in the first WWI, but was ashamed of his part and refused to take out his uniform (in which Peter will transform into his suit)

A year ago, Uncle Ben helped organize demonstrations that shut down 3 of Adolfus Crane's (an industrialist we see at the Black Cat) sweat shops

Anyway back to our regularly scheduled bullet points.

Peter was plucked off the streets into the Black Cat, "The day after Urich was rubbed out." As per Urich's wishes, Felicia entrusts Peter with all the black mail files he had complied of the Goblin's inner workings.

Two days after Urich died they threw his funeral.

For an unspecified amount of time Peter began working on crumbling the Goblin's influence in NY. Long enough for news articles to be made about "The Spider-Man", and long enough for the Goblin to be given a week's deadline to get rid of him. I would estimate between one to two weeks in consideration of the later time skip

Interrupting the flow again to poke at this specific file here. It's labeled "Freak Show Coney Island 1928". It's unclear whether this is the date Urich complied these documents, or the date in which the freak show took place. If it was the latter, that would mean the Goblin's entourage has only been serving him for about five years. Since there's no indication of how long Goblin has been terrorizing this city, I can't confirm either case.

Something that can also be considered about the length of Goblin's hold on the city is that he's been there long enough for Felicia to leave Ben for, and for Felicia to eventually leave the Goblin himself.

Anyway back to our regularly scheduled bullet points.

The night that Peter goes to confront JJ after the publishing of the first paper smearing Spider-Man, he finds the fake JJ already shot (later revealed to have been shot by Felicia, who had already fled the scene)

Just hours after JJ's death, Peter breaks into the city's morgue to discover the JJ who died was actually the Chameleon. Within these hours Felicia is also captured and brought to the Goblin's "torture house" where the real JJ has been kept

And again within these few hours, Peter saves Aunt May from the Vulture by killing him with Uncle Ben's gun, rushes over to the "torture house", and has his final scrap with Goblin and his men

And now to finally consider this two month time skip. We're given some context clues into what time this could be. It's no longer winter, so it has to be in Spring.

And then we're given real political events to draw on. President Franklin D. Roosevelt has been inaugurated into office at this point, so it has to be past March 4, 1933. Then we have the mention of "The Enabling Act" in the Daily Bugle's newspaper, which was passed on March 23, 1933.

So from all this little background detail we can deduct that Noir took place from late December 1932 through January 1933, with the time skip taking place in the late March of 1933.

Anyway yeah. That all happened. That fast. I will! Do a separate post on EWAOF (which takes place in September 1933, only 6 months later!!!), and the other runs beyond that even if I have personal beef with them. Later skaters

[usmsgutterson]

We Could Leave The Christmas Lights Up Til January - S.R x reader

I am typing this authors note and feeling like the friend who's like "ITS CHRISTMAS" from the like. middle of the month forward when I'm actually the friend who reminds you how close it is to christmas or the new year bc I don't want to face that knowledge by myself and suffer well with others.

This was written as a through-the-years style fic. It'll have fifteen chapters which will correspond with the og fifteen seasons of criminal minds (I have not watched seasons sixteen or seventeen, please do not judge me lol) and three scenes per chapter, one set in November, one set on or around Christmas, and the last set at some point after it. The reader is also a fiber artist but if stuff relating to that comes up, I will make a note of whichever terms I need to.

Fic type - this is largely fluff!

Warnings - the reader in this has a slightly similar, but also somewhat dramatized version of my family dynamics bc I wrote this whenever the knit projects I was working on frustrated me and when writing the dynamics it just HAPPENED, but then I edited it so that the dynamics wouldn't hit SUPER HARD if I ever reread it. Otherwise, booze is mentioned a bit, and there is swearing present bc I apparently am incapable of writing a fic without dropping an f'bomb.

When you leave the office that night, it's half-past seven on a Friday in November. You and the rest of the team have the weekend off, and while Penelope and the others had gone out for drinks, you'd gotten back from a case in Miami that morning and had said no to the offer when she'd made it.

You had really just wanted to get home, if you were being honest. You told her you couldn't swing it because of plans already made with someone else, but Garcia didn't need to know that those plans were a glass of wine, Loops 'N Threads Classic Cotton and a crochet hook to work up some dishcloths in lieu of anything too expensive for your aunts christmas gift, or that the someone else you had plans with was your DVR so that you could catch up on the five episodes of Prison Break you'd missed because of the way that cases and work had been piling up.

She also didn't need to know that the wine your mother had given you would have a spot, or that after you were caught up with Prison Break you'd probably order and eat your way through an entire pizza from Antonios while watching a documentary about lemon sharks. Your Friday nights were your own, and even though you adored everyone on the team, you would seldom give up your Friday night ritual of doing a craft while watching whichever cable TV you needed to catch up on or whichever one the network of your choice had been running a marathon of, even if giving it up meant giving up dinner, drinks, and laughter amongst yourself and the rest of the team.

So, as you and Spencer are heading out—Spencer had declined Penelopes offer but hadn't specified his reasons as to why—he looks at you with a knowing sort of smile.

"Crocheting and Antonios?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

You nod once, lips pursing just a little while you mentally ready yourself for any oncoming judgement. "Mhm," you nod. "I have a bottle of red I wanna drink, so it'll be a tipsy crocheting night, I think."

"That sounds fun," he says. "Enjoy it."

"What're your plans for the night?" You ask. You've been with the team since six months after Spencer had joined up. You'd joined, under Hotch's wing, at the age of nineteen where Spencer had joined up under Gideons when he was twenty.

He shrugs. "I was thinking about calling my mom, seeing how she's doing," he says. "I try to call her at least once every so often and I do my best to write, but—it's just—"

"Maintaining those kinds of relationships isn't that easy," you nod. "I mean—my parents just live in my hometown so the circumstances are different, but I get it, even if it's to a lesser degree."

You don't really talk to your parents, and they don't really talk to you, and it's been that way since you went to the FBI Academy when you were eighteen. You came to DC after being hired by the BAU and they stayed in Maine, and things have been like that in the five years since you left the state.

"Your mom came around recently, right?"

You nod. "She was in town for a bit, but she came down while we were working on a case so I only got to see her a few times before she was heading back to Maine." She'd come up at the start of October, while you were working a case out of state, and she'd left six days after you'd returned from the case. In that time, you'd seen her at breakfast, lunch and dinner on three separate days. She'd left you the wine as a gift because she hated red and needed to pass it off, but you loved red wine so it was fine.

"Was it a good visit?"

"It was—well—it was fine," you laugh.

"That's the nicest way to put it?"

"Calling it fine is me being stellar," you laugh again. "Being kind, being gratiuitous, even. It was less than fine, but it could've been worse, and other visits of hers have been by miles."

Your relationship with your mother has been somewhat contentious since you were a teen, but she comes down once every few months and unless a case or something better comes up, you usually try to book Christmas off to spend it with your parents and sisters in Maine. This year, a bigger part of you than not is hoping that Christmas is disrupted by a case somewhere completely out of Maines reach, like Nevada or California or even the likes of Alaska, which has got to be some snowy hellstorm in the wintertime, though you can't say.

"You gonna go down for Christmas?" Spencer asks, laughing a little. He knows some of what your relationships with your family are like—knows that you and your mother have a difficult time finding common ground, knows that you and your father don't get along but have found some weird little middleground where you can exist without screaming at each other. He knows that you and your older sister are sort of friendly but only really mildly close, and that you and your other older sister don't talk often and see each other even less than the sparing conversations you have throughout the year—and he always looks at you kind of pitifully when your mother gets brought into the conversation, but there's been less and less pity as the years have passed, more sympathy.

"I don't want to," you laugh. "I really, really hope we get a case in Nevada or somewhere that even my mother wouldn't be able to justify asking me to drive down to Maine from. Like—I'd love it if we got a case in Alaska the day before Christmas Eve, honestly. I know it's not gonna happen, but—Christmas with them, my aunt, and my uncle? No. I can't subject myself to that without a whole lot of booze."

Spencer laughs, shakes his head a little bit. "You'll be fine," he says. "I won't hope that a case comes up at Christmas, but if one does, I'll buy you a victory tea."

"Why?"

"Because I know you love your family—you're hardwired to love them—but you hate Christmas with them, and I don't really like the thought of you being where you don't want to be because of family ties and guilt."

You laugh. "If it gets too dreary, promise you'll answer my call?"

"Yeah," Spencer nods. "Of course, but what if I call you first?"

"I will answer so quick," you laugh again, shrugging. "Seriously. Whether it's you or Hotch, I will take literally any excuse I can get to slip out from whichever room I'm in to the back porch just so I can talk to someone who isn't my aunt for a few minutes."

"Looking forward to that," Spencer says.

You smile, turning away as you do to hide it. It feels like an awesome ending to a mediocre day and you're grateful for that.

-

When your phone rings at five o'clock something along the lines of five weeks later, it's Christmas Eve. You've spent the last couple of hours alternating between cheap screw top rose and a jack and coke, occasionally swapping both options out for a hot chocolate that you spike with kahlua and a splash of baileys, and when your phone rings, the sound of it is a welcome reprieve.

You tuck a mug of boozed up hot cocoa into your right hand, answering the phone with your left as you dismiss yourself out to the back porch, standing amidst snow that's, by that point, a couple days old. A fresh coat is due to fall any day now, but by the time it does you'll probably already be back in DC.

"Hey," you greet. "How's Christmas on your end?"

"It's good," Spencer answers. "How is it on yours?"

"It's amazing."

"You've been drinking?"

"Jack Daniels, cheap rose, and the occasional spiked hot chocolate," you laugh a little. "It's making everyone more tolerable."

"Thats good," Spencer says. "Don't forget to drink water, though. It'll make you less hungover tomorrow morning."

"Yeah," you nod. "I've drank plenty of water—hangover headaches are fuckin' awful, and I don't feel like dealing with that tomorrow morning. A headache on top of dealing with my aunt? I couldn't put myself through that kind of torture."

"How've things been with you and your mom?"

"So far I haven't done anything to piss her off yet, which is surprising," you laugh. "Normally she's leaping down my throat the second I do something like use a tone that she thinks is amiss or defend my dad where she doesn't agree with him. I'll say something stupid and she'll yell at me before midnight though, I'm sure."

"Try to be a little optimistic," Spencer says. "I mean—just—take it easy. Don't do anything too nuts, okay? I know you well enough to know you have Prison Break on one of the DVRs in that house, and I also know that you know your own limits. Don't push yourself past them."

"I won't," you say. You know yourself well enough to know that you're probably lying, but you brought your needles and a skein of yarn so worst case you can just knit and keep your mouth shut, hopefully not miscounting any of your stitches in your drunken state. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? I get in around ten on boxing day too, so—coffee?"

"Coffee," Spencer says. "Merry Christmas, Y/N."

"Merry Christmas, Spencer," you respond, hanging up the phone thereafter. You stay outside for another few minutes, drinking your hot chocolate, watching the sky and prolonging the time between then and your next interactions with your relatives.

Eventually, when you go back in, you're met with a sly look from your aunt and a suspicious look in your mothers eyes, while your father and uncle chat about current events and your sisters are busy in a game of Uno.

"You got a boyfriend?" Your aunt asks, her smile cheeky.

You grimace. "No!" You say, beelining for the kitchen and the bottle of Barefoot brand zinfandel. "No—it's—it isn't like that. A friend had planned to call and I didn't say no."

"Oooh, a friend," your mother teases. "That's quite vague, Y/N."

You nod, finishing the last sip of hot chocolate in your mug and rinsing it out, setting it in your favored corner of the kitchen counter and reaching for the wine glass you'd left in that same area.

"Intentionally so," you laugh. "You two are so nosy. I love you both to bits and pieces, but—it's not anything like what you're thinking. The friend is a coworker."

You reach for the bottle of zinfandel and pour an amount that just barely skirts the edge of avoiding being obscene, putting the cap back on and leaving it on the counter along with the rest of the alcoholic companions that will reside on the countertop until at some point tomorrow, when the drinks are switched out from booze and beer to soda and water.

"You two will be an item in five years, I guarantee it," your aunt says. "Seriously. You don't be vague about someone with your family unless there are feelings there, Y/N."

You laugh a little more, taking a sip of your wine and debating rummaging through the fridge to find the brownies that you'd hidden in the back of the fridge for when the drunken cravings kicked in.

"I've been vague with you people about women coworkers," you retort. "I've been vague about mentors who are older than Dad. I'm vague about lots of things."

"You should open up," your uncle says. "Nobody likes a closed off little snowflake who wants to appear mysterious."

"Trust is earned," the older of your two sisters retorts. "You have to trust people to want to open up to them."

"Do you not trust us?" Your mother asks, looking at you with pain in her eyes.

Not like I did when I was a kid, you think. "I do! I just—work life and family life are two separate things to me. If I were as open as you guys want me to be, telling you work stories and funny office anecdotes, you'd all want to hear less about my job."

"Being an FBI agent can't be that hard," your uncle retorts.

"You say that as a man who's never watched someone you love like a sibling get shot at," you retort. "You've never seen someones body missing parts, or seen someone who narrowly evaded a serial killer shaking with grief and with survivors guilt already starting to manifest. I love you all, but not one of you understands what it's like, and I wouldn't wish you did across a thousand lifetimes."

Nobody knows what to say, but the look in your eldest sisters eyes is clear—she's proud.

"Well maybe you should work in a different area," your aunt says.

"I wouldn't trade my job or my coworkers for anything," you respond. "The plus sides make up for the drawbacks tenfold."

Things go a little quiet after that, and you eventually grab the bottle of Zinfandel and retreat back out to the back porch, not caring how cold it is.

You stare at the sky for ages, drinking your way through the entire bottle of zinfandel as you do. You're half asleep when your phone rings again, and you pick it up as you make back inside, figuring the rest of your family had gone to bed as well.

"Hey," Spencer greets. "Just calling to check in again."

"Hi," you respond. "Everyone else has gone to sleep, I think—nobody is in the kitchen or the living room, and if I don't hit the hay I'll be dead on my feet tomorrow morning."

"Do you have any sports drinks around?" Spencer asks. "The elctrolytes in them will help replenish the potassium and the salt that you lose after a lot of drinking. Bouillion soup also serves the same purpose, and water is basically universally known as the one thing you should consistently drink between alcoholic beverages."

"My mother gets a twelve pack of the fruit punch Gatorade, puts it in the fridge and normally will make the drunkest of us chug a bottle before we conk out, so I'm gonna grab one and then chug it and head to bed. Thank you for calling to check in, Spencer. It means a lot."

You head for the fridge and keep to your word, opening it and grabbing one of the gatorades.

"It's no problem," Spencer says. "I've know you—how long now?"

"Four entire years," you laugh, closing the fridge and pressing your forehead against the metal door of the freezer on top of it. "Oh, God. Four years of working at the BAU. That is a surefire way to make me feel old."

"How old do you think you'll feel when you've been working there for a decade?"

"Absolutely, positively, ancient," you say. "Oh my God—thirty three? That is not an age I can picture. Asking me to picture that while I'm drunk feels like such a low blow, Reid."

"How about twenty-eight?"

"I'm starting to think you just like the sound of my voice," you retort, laughing a little as you compose yourself just enough to turn your phone onto speaker and set it on the counter. You lean against the counter and take the screw top off of your gatorade, sighing a little. "Are you asking me if I have a five year plan, Dr. Reid?"

"Yeah," he says. "Yes is the answer to both your statement and your question."

"Well, in five years, I'll be twenty-eight," you start. "I'd like it very much if I were still on the team, and if I am, that means nine years at the BAU. I'm going to get better at knitting and finally stop knitting things for people who don't offer to buy the yarn or otherwise compensate, I think. I make things free for ungrateful people too often. Maybe even adopt a kitten or take in a shelter dog. Fuck—Reid, I can't really even decide what I'm going to do in the next five minutes, let alone the next five years."

You chug the gatorade as you think about it—a bigger apartment would be nice, one that's closer to work would be nicer still. One with a good view of the city, maybe a library or a liquor store within walking distance, if not a Michaels or a Joanns.

You've always been more of a cat person but you have a ridiculously insurmountable softspot for greyhounds and pitbulls, so if you thought you could take in an animal in the coming years, you would have the knowledge and the background to give them a good home.

You'd maybe want to change up your hair color, if the drunken opportunity presented itself. A change in appearance feels like the sort of thing a person finds necessary at the age of twenty four, in the last year before the brain fully develops and stuff starts changing bit by bit.

"I think I'll still be on the team," Spencer says. "I know it. I love what we get to do everyday, Y/N. Helping people? Saving lives? We do good. We're good people."

"What else do you think about the next five years?" You ask, your voice quiet.

"I think I'll still be living in my same apartment, and that I'll still bicker and get into prank wars with Morgan," Spencer says. "I think I'll still play chess against Gideon on the jet home, and I'll still love to learn anything I can. I know for sure I'm still going to be trying to get you to watch Dr. Who with me, though I hope you agree to watch it after five years of attempts at cajoling you to."

You laugh, and the air takes on a somber kind of tone. "Maybe," you say. "Not likely, but maybe, Reid. Look—I'm going to go to bed so that I can just deal with tomorrows probable hangover head on, but thank you for calling me not once, but twice tonight. I really needed some company that wasn't a little bit of an asshole."

"Yeah, of course," Spencer says. "I—well—merry Christmas, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Spencer," is how you bid him adieu, hanging up the phone thereafter. You throw the gatorade bottle into the recycling and head off to the room you'd claimed, turning the tv onto a low volume and falling asleep with The Muppet Christmas Carol beginning to play in the background.

-

"How was everyones Christmas?" Garcia asks, practically buzzing with excitement as she comes out into the bullpen. Spencer is leaning against your desk, the two of you talking about nothing in particular when she comes around, and Garcia looks at you with a happy grin. "How was Maine?"

"It was Maine," you shrug. "Snowed. A lot. In turn, everyone in my family drank. A lot."

"Oh," Garcia shakes her head. "Too many people and too much booze is God awful."

You shrug. "My parents, my sisters, and my aunt and my uncle hardly felt like too many," you say. "And the amount of booze in which I indulged hardly felt like too much."

"You had a lot," Spencer retorts, looking at you skeptically. "I got a text Christmas morning, if memory serves—"

"A text to thank you for being so nice," You fire back, cutting him off. "Totally not asking you for hangover cures. I would never."

Spencer shakes his head, laughing slightly. You grin, taking a sip of the tea he'd brought you that morning.

"Yeah," he says. "I didn't get a text asking for the ultimate hangover cure-all. I guess I must've remembered it wrong."

Your grin widens, and you nod. "Guess so. How were things with your Mom?"

"They were great," Spencer says. "I had a good time."

"I'm glad," you respond. "Your mother sounds pleasant."

"She is," Spencer nods. "I'd hate to spend more than an hour with yours though."

"She's comin' here in June," you fire back, leaning back in your chair as your grin morphs from grin to smirk. "Be careful for the next six months, Reid, or I'll invite you to dinner with her, myself, and my father."

"That sounds like some form of mideval torture," Derek fires, laughing. Spencer shakes his head.

"Not if Y/Ns there," he murmurs. You take another sip of your tea to avoid seeming flustered to the rest of the team, and Spencer sighs when JJ comes around. You sit up in your chair, already anticipating her next words.

"We have a case," she says. "A series of deaths in Witchita. Briefing room in ten!"

You and Spencer exchange a look. There are only a few days left of it, but it looks like the last of 2005 is due to be a whirlwind.

[zaceouiswriting]

Fairy Prince - Hearts of Leviathans - Ch.45

Character: Sky x male reader, Riven x male reader, Brandon x male reader, (OC) Callisto x male reader

Universe: Somewhere in Winx Club/Saga

Warnings: A bit steamy, brutality, a little gore

Author's note: This will be the last chapter for this year. I plan to write smaller things for the rest of the year and maybe the beginning of next year, but I will be back with another chapter early in January anyway.

(Callisto)

(Brandon)

Awakened, I stretch happily, my body lighter than it has been in a long time, the bright sun dancing in my eyes. I feel so warm, so much better, that for a moment, I even think I have died, finally joyfully jumping across the endless meadows of the Leviathans. But no. A glance to the side is enough to realize that I am still firmly in the world of the living. Right next to me in my bed lies a peacefully sleeping Callisto, his face even more relaxed than when awake. I haven't seen him so colorful in weeks since we returned to the Academy, but now, in the light glow of the morning sun, he looks almost divine, like one of the champions of the great Leviathans.

When I see him like this, I can't help myself. I lean towards him, grab a few strands of hair, carefully brush them away from his graceful face, and gently touch his cheek. Feeling his soft, warm skin under my fingertips, a shiver runs down my spine; my heart beats so hard that my whole face turns red while my eyes are fixed on his full, reddish lips. Should I? I mean, he's fast asleep; he'd never know, right?

While pondering whether I should steal a kiss from him or not, I'm suddenly torn from my thoughts when I feel our noses touch. My eyes widen involuntarily. Despite my head's reluctance, my heart and body seem aligned. Even though I know my first love is gone, I still fear Callisto might just be a replacement for him. It all would be easier if he would just do something my first love would never even consider; maybe then I could see the truth behind my feelings and hope that only love for Callisto would remain.

And yet, I want nothing more than to steal a kiss from him. Just one. That would be enough to sort out my feelings, at least for a while. But could I really be so selfish? Should I even do this while he's sleeping? It feels dishonest that I wouldn't do it when he's awake, but only when he's asleep. It feels wrong, like I'm doing something disgusting, maybe even perverted, just like the rumors suggest. Perhaps I'm a pervert, but only for him, his beautiful face, and those hazel eyes whose depth can make me swoon.

Suddenly, something interrupts my concentration. Did someone speak? Just as I'm about to turn my head away, I hear it again.

"Do it!" the voice commands, quiet, sleepy, and deep. Another shiver runs down my spine as I immediately recognize this stupidly attractive voice. My gaze darts back up to Callisto's eyes, only to be confronted by his hazel orbs. We are still close, but neither of us is moving away. "You coward," he murmurs agonizingly slowly, followed by his trademark grin that made me fall in love with him in the first place. I can only shake my head as I suddenly realize how easy I am. It's almost pathetic.

All my resolve dissolves as I feel his large hand at my side, tightening its grip around my waist. It's not small; I've trained my whole life, after all, but this man is just so monstrous. 

By the Leviathans, send me strength, for if you do not, I cannot promise to act rationally instead of instinctively. A pit forms in my stomach, and a feeling of longing reawakens that I haven't felt since the wild times I shared with my first love before his premature death.

As I see his grin widening, I suddenly feel a draft of air around me. Before I know it, I'm lying on my back, staring straight into those same hazel eyes, filled to the brim with lust so unbridled that I don't think even the crystal clear seas would be big enough to empty it. Callisto comes eerily close, his playful face now serious.

“Don’t make such a vulnerable face; otherwise, I can’t promise you that I can hold back any longer!”

Those huskily spoken words excite my whole body. Not only do I feel desirable, but I also wish I could let him do what he wants with me, what he seems to have always wanted.

But I need more time, maybe some new environments without him, to clear my head. When I think about it further, though, I already know that it would hurt me too much to be away from him, despite his indecent thoughts and obvious desperate attempts.

Staring into his eyes, I can see he wants an answer, and I know what he wishes to hear. If I could be honest with him, I would agree to do it here and now, even though we are in a dorm, and our noise would disturb the others, since Callisto seems big in all his measures, like the naughty teenagers we really are, even if we both pretend we aren't. In noble or royal families, you have to grow up faster because you often have to be prepared to take your parents' place if something suddenly happens to them.

“Please,” Callisto suddenly begs so fervently that it shocks me.

When I return from my thoughts, his face has changed again, and he now looks as desperate as his voice sounds. I almost feel sorry for him, but feeling sorry for him wouldn't help either of us.

I move my hand over his rock-hard abs and see his desperate look return to the previous cheeky gaze. But suddenly, he starts to blush. Slowly, he comes closer, our lips almost touching, but at the last moment, I wrap my legs around his thighs. The next second, I put my hand around his neck and saw his cheeky grin. I could only wonder what was going on in his cheeky head, but I had already pushed him before he could say or do anything. His eyes widen in incomprehension. And before he could say anything, I had already switched our positions and was now straddling him. I'm sitting on top of him, with my knees next to his waist, staring down at him, grinning triumphantly.

Callisto's stunned look and slightly open mouth soon give way to his trademark grin, but what really throws me off is when he suddenly flexes his biceps, which almost makes my mouth water. But he doesn't stop there: He moves his arms up and then puts his hands behind his head, wiggling a little, only to lie back down again, grinning even wider.

I tilt my head to the side, trying to figure out what he's talking about since he hasn't said anything. He must have noticed because his eyes soften slightly, but his smug grin doesn't change.

“If you want to be on top, you can,” he murmurs, quite pleased with himself, “but I hope you are prepared to ride for a long time because I have stamina for days!”

Although his husky, deep voice turns me on, I don't understand what he's trying to say, but I have to admit that our situation is starting to feel strange.

"Fuck no!" another voice suddenly shouts at us. I almost fall off the bed, but Callisto catches me just in time. With my hands on those muscular pecs, my head snaps to the side, and I'm confronted with an angry Vinok. "Isn't it enough that you two make everyone suffer by flirting like idiots, and now you want us to watch you fuck right in front of our eyes?"

Even more confused than before, I feel dizzy. When I turn back to Callisto to ask him about Vinok's unfounded assumptions, all I see are his crimson cheeks and his averted gaze. The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I hadn't even thought about our almost intimate relationship anymore because I thought I had already put an end to it by turning us around! But when I look down at us, I find that Callisto is not only wearing hardly anything—just his underwear—but it is bulging to the extreme.

I slowly raise my gaze again and meet Callisto's mischievous eyes. We stare at each other for a moment. But it is only when his mischievous, shining eyes take on an apologetic expression that I really comprehend what is happening. Immediately, I feel my pulse increase, and my hands sweat profusely, only for Callisto to moan. Fucking moan! It quickly reminds me that my hands are still on his pectoral muscles, and I may have clenched them due to shock.

More screams and panicked whispers come from across the room, but as Daniel and Vinok make their way out, I realize that if I let them go, Callisto will take full advantage of the empty space and somehow get me to fool around with him.

I squeal at the mere thought of Callisto's hard body hovering over mine while he... no, don't even think about it! Feeling myself getting aroused, my eyes widen in horror; I quickly jump up from his body and try to get away from him, only to fall. Just a second later, I find myself hanging humiliated from the edge of the bed, with my foot caught in the blanket.

"Help," I say sheepishly, feeling like an idiot. My question for help is met with silence. I can't see anyone, but then, out of nowhere, laughter breaks out, just a little at first, until I can swear I hear at least two of those three idiots rolling on the floor. "Very mature," I continue to mutter, fed up with all three of them.

A large hand finally helps me back onto the bed and gently frees my foot, but even in Callisto's sharp features, I recognize a broad smile and a sincere desire to join in the laughter. Although I show an annoyed face, I'm inwardly grateful that he at least has the decency to keep his mouth shut.

Callisto even makes room for me by shuffling to the edge of the bed, giving me a chance to calm down, but I just want to fall into a hole and never come out. I hide my face behind my hands; I still can't believe this happened before others, even if they are our friends. It still feels so wrong.

As I lie there hiding, something pokes into my side; I try to find it, but as my fingertips touch its soft surface, my brows furrow in utter confusion. My heart skips a beat as I grab it and pull it out from under me.

"Who made this?" My voice shakes as I speak, as I desperately try to keep my composure. However, when no one answers me, I turn to Callisto, who I assume made it. "Did you make this little guy?" Until this moment, I really tried to hold back my emotions, but I couldn't anymore. Tears pool in the corners of my eyes. Although I somehow can still hold back tears, it all goes to shit as I take another look at the little animal.

Unable to hold back my gratitude any longer, I lunge forward, throw my arms around his neck, and nestle my head into his neck.

"Thank you!" I almost shout in his ear, but I don't care; I can't hold back anymore. Before I know it, my tears are flowing; I'm just too happy. "You must really like me for that; after all, almost nobody knows the Bogglewiks." After mentioning this silly name, I have to pause so as not to giggle because of it. "I know their name sounds stupid, but that's what the animals were like; they could barely survive, but they died out a long time ago, and despite it, somehow you managed to make an almost perfect replica!" As I cry like a baby, Callisto has to turn around to hold me upright and gently push me onto his lap. "You have no idea how much this means to me!"

I can only stare at the little animal, unable to believe he went through so much trouble to make me feel better. As I feel the stuffed animal up and down, my body suddenly freezes. My screams stop. I release Callisto's neck from my arms and stand up from his lap without saying another word. The cold floor sends a shiver up my feet. Silently, I grab some clothes and leave the room. At least I hear Daniel calling after me, but I don't care. I quickly wash myself in the communal shower and put on my new clothes, but when I return to my room, the others still sit around.

"What are you doing?" I ask, quite annoyed. "Are you coming or not?" The others seem stunned, but why shouldn't they? I've slept far too much over the last few weeks, and this sudden change would confuse everyone.

"What's wrong?" Daniel asks from the side. I turn my gaze to him; I see uncertainty in his eyes. But before I answer, I turn back to Callisto.

"I don't know where you got the gems for the plushie's eyes, but I need to talk to someone about this, so get up, shower, and then come to the landing pad!" I grab my backpack and quickly make my way back to the door. "And bring someone who can fly a hawk; even though I hate flying like that, we need to be quick!"

Without giving them a chance to say a single word, I storm out and run through the halls, hoping not to run into anyone who could ruin my mood again. But that's life. Something always has to happen.

Out of nowhere, a hand appears in the corner of my eye. Not wanting to be caught by anyone, I spin around and summon a stone spear. As soon as I stop, I plant my right foot heavily on the ground, encasing it in stone, and thrust the spear forward with all my strength. The other person narrowly avoids being impaled by the sharp point of my weapon by taking a step back.

To my shock, the teacher from my last visit is standing right before me. His long black hair makes him look almost like an undead monster from old stories, but his eyes are more like those of a snake; maybe he's both.

“What do you want?” I hiss and don’t put down my weapon because I don’t trust this man.

The man scoffs at me. He probably thinks I'm a moody child, but I don't really care. Why should I? This man creeps me out.

“You shouldn’t be running through the halls,” he finally says with a crooked grin and a fearless look, as if he knows I won’t use my weapon.

He was right about that, at least. I immediately make all the stones disappear again and walk away.

Just one step. I can only take one step before I feel a heavy hand on my back and am pushed into the other hallway from which the professor came, where he hurls me against a wall. Before the man can even say anything, I catch a glimpse of a tattoo on the base of his arm, one that an intriguing magical web should cover but, for some reason, has broken free of its bonds. It seemingly confirms my suspicions about the jewels in the plushie, but I'm still not completely sure.

"Another try?" I ask, my voice clearly mocking. "I wonder what your Grand Master will say when even a high-ranking one like you is killed by a child!"

But suddenly, I feel a sharp pain in my side. When I look down, I see blood seeping out, staining my clothes. But the man obviously doesn't like my reaction because he presses my head harder against the stone wall.

"Cry for me, little boy, beg for your parents as you die!" he whispers, clearly enjoying the moment of power he has. What a pathetic little man.

However, I must admit that the blade hurts a lot more than it should since metal is part of my magic. Yet it fails me miserably as if there is something that can keep my magic in check.

His head is suddenly much closer to me, next to mine, perhaps to see my facial reactions, but I have none. A strong, minty smell overwhelms my nostrils, but only briefly. And in the next moment, he is gone. I crumble against the wall, wondering what happened, only to hear a familiar voice not too far away.

"You damned old bastard!" He screams, angrier than I ever thought I'd hear him. "How dare you touch him, huh? Did you think you'd get away with touching one of your students?“

Between his words, all I hear is the cracking of bones—a sound I know all too well. He must have left his weapon in his dorm room. However, I can't really concentrate on it because there's still a damn blade stuck in my stomach.

Breathing heavily, I move my hand behind my back, grab the knife's handle, and pull it out. For a second, I see nothing but stars and wake up on the floor, but the weapon is still in my deadly grip. Awake and strengthened by sheer will, I look at the dagger, only to become absolutely certain that the teacher is just another of the black hand.

“Hey, hey, be careful!” Brandon’s worried voice, right after he has beaten the professor to a pulp, is almost disturbing. But his concern grows when he realizes what really happened. “I’m going to fucking kill him!” he screams, watching me bleed.

I can barely manage to grab his hand just in time before he can rush back to the teacher. I smile weakly at him and shake my head gently. 

"You already killed him." 

I nod towards the man on the ground. Brandon's head snaps in the same direction. The teacher's head is completely shattered, and his brain oozes out the side. Not even one of the Leviathans can do anything for him now.

While Brandon stands there in shock, I use the moment to close my wound with a layer of stone.

"Help me up," I tell him, but he doesn't react. "Brandon!" I say louder, but still no reaction. "Pull yourself together!" I finally scream.

In an instant, Brandon is looking at me blankly, just like the day I took my first life. He holds up my other hand, takes it, and helps me up. I know that there is only one way to help him. Carefully, I lead him to the body and tell him to twist his right arm. But he hesitates, so I try to do it myself, only to exaggerate the pain I feel and groan loudly. He quickly pulls me back up and does it himself instead, just as I wanted. Once the teacher's wrist is exposed, we can see the tattoo even more clearly.

"He was an assassin sent by the Black Hand to right their worst mistake," I explain.

“What's that?” Brandon asks, his eyes a little clearer now.

Putting a hand on his cheek, I gift him another smile. "Killing me," I whisper softly. "They tried for a long time, but this time, without you, they would have finally gotten what they always wanted."

Finally, some life returns to his eyes, but he lowers his head and plays with my hand. It will take a while for him to regain his bearings. But we don't have time right now.

"Now help me to the landing pad; I still have more to do."

I see that he wishes to say something, but I cover his mouth with my other hand, which I only then realize is covered in some of my blood. 

"Sorry, I couldn't clean my hand before," I apologize quickly. But Brandon seems unaffected; he even licks the blood off his lips. He doesn't say another word but simply leads me outside without letting go of my hand, which is starting to feel warm. But at some point, he suddenly lifts me up. Has he seen my pain getting worse? I thought I hid it pretty well. I can't help but blush against his chest as he carries me out.

[Masterlist]

[jishyucks]

Out of Snow, Out of Mind – ksm

‣ pairing: kim seungmin x reader

‣ genre: fluff, frenemies to lovers?

‣ wc: 2.8k

‣ summary: After cursing the city and their poor excuse of cleaning the streets, you eventually swallow your pride and call your friends to help you free your car from the snow. And out of all the people that could have come, it really had to be Seungmin…

‣ warnings: nothing really!!, reader has poor knowledge of car care, mistletoe cliche, thts about it?, half-assed proofreading

‣ an: it's the literal way I was supposed to post this in January but my life said fuk u and your hobbies so just pretend this isn't like 2 months late thank you,, please enjoy!

Series Masterlist

You’re tired and you wanna go home.

That’s it.

You’ve been awake since six in the morning to get ready and get to school and now, just shy of five in the afternoon, almost twelve damn hours of using up your energy, you were ready to head home and take the nap you’ve been craving the entire day.

It really did not help that the sun was already setting. It already feels like it’s late in the evening when really, this was the time that most people would be returning home from work. It shouldn’t feel like it was an hour past dinner, but of course, winter meant shorter days and longer nights.

The cold weather causes a shiver to run up your back as you stiffly make your way down the neighbourhood near the university. 

Anything to not pay the overpriced parking, you always remind yourself. Besides, the parking wasn’t too far from the campus grounds. It was just far enough for you to tolerate the weather. 

You hadn’t realized that your face had been moulded into a scowl until you finally spotted your car parked and nestled against the curb. Muscle memory allows you to unlock the vehicle from the keys in your pocket before you carefully step off the sidewalk to get into your car. 

A sigh of relief leaves your mouth in the form of condensation, the interior of the car cold from sitting there all day, though it wasn’t as cold as you thought—probably from the works of the sun. You immediately start your engine, plug in your phone, and turn the heat up toward the windows so they can defrost.

The last playlist you had playing starts playing over the hum of the engine and you let yourself sit back and wait until the car was warm enough for you to actually move. It gave you time to recollect yourself, thoughts only occupied by the nap you’ve been wanting to take once you finally get home and then the essay you had to half-assedly begin because it was due in a week or so. 

The second you stop shivering, you sit up in the driver’s seat and huff, mentally preparing yourself for the careful drive home. 

That is… if you can even get out of your parking spot. 

You test the gas again, gently pressing your toe against the pedal to make sure that you weren’t just being a dumbass and stepping on the brakes. But when you audibly hear your wheels struggling to dig your car out of its place, you feel your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. 

Fuck, just try again, haha, maybe it’s just… a little bit stuck! 

You let out a nervous chuckle and then you try again… and again… and again… 

And no matter what you tried—backing up and accelerating forward, angling your wheels in different directions, hell, you even tried climbing onto the curb for some traction—nothing worked.

You step once more on the gas, “Oh, c’mon Nimby please just go, please!” (Yes, your car was named Nimby. It comes from the word cumulonimbus because it was white like a cloud).

You were stuck. 

And from the looks of it, the road around you was practically empty, there was no one around who could help you. 

“Shit.” 

You hit the steering wheel and decide to get out to see if you could scope out what you could do to get out. 

The cold air hits you once again and all you want to do is jump back into your car where it was toasty and cozy. Yet, the desire to be an independent adult and figure out what the hell was going on keeps you outside.

You inspect the outside of your vehicle, waddling around it like you were protecting territory, and surely enough you spot the very reason why the car wasn’t budging at all. 

Your front left tire was flat. Or at least it looked flat. 

“You better be fucking kidding me,” you mutter. You check on the tire, using the tip of your boot to press against the rubber.

Yeah, it was flat. So now you were both stuck and you had a flat tire. 

And you had no fucking idea how to get out of both problems. 

The first person you think of calling was Chan, simply because you knew that that man had knowledge for practically anything. And if anyone could get help you get out of shit, it would be him. 

You dial his number, and slide back into your car, letting out a sigh as the persistent heat greets you again. The phone rings several times before diverting to Chan's voicemail. You decide to end the call.

Okay, so Chan wasn’t an option. 

You huff and scroll through your contacts, right down to the Ms because your next option was Minho. 

The phone rings once… twice…

“What’s up?”

“Are you busy right now?” You’re chewing on your bottom lip and your other hand is playing with the ripped-up receipts in your pocket. 

“I’m at the vet for Soonie’s checkup,” Minho replies, “Why?”

“Um… car trouble? I was wondering if you could help me out.” You hated the feeling of asking for help. It felt as though you were begging for money despite knowing your friends never minded helping out. 

“I mean… I can but I just got to the vet’s so it could take a while.” At the other end of the line, you can hear the voice of a woman and Minho replies with Soonie’s name. 

You frown. Surely, you could wait for an hour at most, but you really didn’t want to. He could be the last resort if none of your other friends could offer help. 

You hum, “I’ll call the others first and if none can’t, then I’ll just text you?” 

“Of course, Y/N,” he says through the phone, “I’m sorry I can’t come sooner.” “You don’t need to apologize,” you frown, “You didn’t do anything wrong… I’ll talk to you later. I’ll ask the others.”

Minho makes a sound of acknowledgement before you both hang up. 

At least now you have an option. 

You scroll through your contacts, hitting up every friend you think might know a thing or two about cars, hoping one of them can swoop in at the last minute to rescue you. And from what you’re understanding, this was the worst time to get your car stuck. 

Changbin and Hyunjin were out on some outing, Yeji was stuck doing group work with Lia, Felix was sick, and Jisung wasn’t answering. 

Now you’re down to two final options.

In this situation, you knew Seungmin was a better option than Jeongin, simply because you were well aware that the man had better car knowledge between the two. But were you that desperate to ask Kim Seungmin for help? When Jeongin was still a pending option?

Your thumb hovers over Seungmin’s name and your heart starts to beat erratically simply by the sight of his name. 

No, you weren’t that desperate, but a small part of you wanted to see him again just because you needed to confront him about the Christmas party a few weeks ago. Besides, you’re sure you weren’t the only one itching to talk about it. 

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

“Kiss! Kiss!” 

The feeling of your heart falling to the pit of your stomach was absolutely sickening—especially when you had specifically told Jisung to keep you and Seungmin out of his shenanigans. But when Jisung had clues clear as glass that indicated your blooming feelings on the boy you claimed to ‘strongly dislike’, he knew he had to take action.

You hate the way the voices practically echo, bouncing from one wall to another. All eyes were on the two of you, Jisung standing further back as he held the mistletoe high above and between you and Seungmin. And you couldn’t do anything but stare at Seungmin in pure shock.

“Don’t be killjoys!” Someone hollered from the back. 

You gulped and blinked at Seungmin, “A… a peck wouldn’t hurt?”

The expression on Seungmin’s face was unreadable, features flat except for the way his mouth was slightly parted, “It wouldn’t…”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

You cringe at the memory. 

Not because it was disgusting… but because you were the first one who had suggested going through with the kiss… you were the one who leaned in first… and you enjoyed it. 

Worst part of all was the fact it’s been almost three weeks since the kiss and you’ve been thinking about it ever since. 

You shake your head, consciously scrolling away from the S’s in your contacts and back up to the J’s, not even hesitating to tap on Jeongin’s name.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You let out a sigh of relief, greeting the boy back with half his energy before you go on to explain your situation. “And you’re practically my last resort!”

Jeongin’s end of the line is silent because he knows that you know he sucks with all things cars. Then he speaks up, “Have you called Seungmin Hyung?” 

“...No.” It’s funny because you know what Jeongin is implying. 

He sighs, “Send me your location.” 

You thank him and quickly follow his request, making a side note to yourself to give Jeongin the tightest hug when he arrives. It was honestly so heartwarming knowing that he was willing to help despite his limited car knowledge. 

As expected, you think. 

You feel your stress begin to ease, a newfound sense of optimism washing over you as you settle in your heated seat. For the first time today, you finally get to relax, drowning yourself in your music as you wait for Jeongin to arrive.

You’re later pulled out of your thoughts the second you see a car turn onto the road you’ve been sitting on for the last twenty minutes. The way it slowly inches closer causes you to perk up, sitting up straighter in your seat just so you can watch it approach you through the rearview mirror. 

Then, it parks right behind you. 

“Hm?” The inner ends of your brows almost touch when you realize that the car is not Jeongin’s. No, you couldn’t name his exact car model, but you knew his car was a dark blue. This car, however, was sleek black, looking like it had just run through the car wash even though the streets were covered in dirty, slush-like snow. 

Your eyesight fails you when you squint to figure out who this is, ocular muscles trying their absolute best to focus on the face of the car’s owner. And then…

“What the fuck?” 

You hastily open your car door and get out, the owner doing the same, “What are you doing here?” 

Seungmin is planted behind his opened car door, using it as a barrier between the two of you. His flat expression doesn’t budge, “You needed help.” 

Your heart is pounding simply because you weren’t mentally prepared to actually see Seungmin right now. If Jeongin had warned you that he was going to be sending him, you would have at least run lines in your head of what you could be saying to him. 

“Not from you,” you shake your head, “Where’s Jeongin? You can go.”

Seungmin takes a step back and shuts his door, “Just show me what you need help with.” The tone in his voice was considerably serious and you know that no matter what you did, he wasn’t going to leave you without his help. 

The air is a tinge bit awkward when you both stand there before you finally choose to reply, turning around without bothering to wave him over. You kick at the nuisance of a tire and explain your situation for the millionth time today. And when you look up at him, Seungmin’s already looking back at you. 

“Did you get all that?” you ask.

He nods and quietly squats down to inspect the tire. Then, after a while, he lets out a huh before standing up to open your door. You’re not entirely sure what he’s doing, but you let him do whatever he needs. 

Seungmin says something to you over his shoulder but you don’t catch it. He pulls himself out from inside and then stands stiffly in front of you, “Did you pump the tires when it said low tire pressure?” 

Your eyes widened, “No…?”

He puffs his cheeks, “That explains it.” 

Your brows fall closer together and your lips tighten, “You came to help me and you’re choosing to be mean to me?”

Seungmin brushes past you, heading straight for his car, and for a moment, you fear he's about to leave. You hesitate to stop him, mainly because you don’t want him to leave. Sure, he’s offering you help, but you haven’t seen him since the party. 

But as he reaches his car's trunk instead of the driver's seat, a wave of relief washes over you. He pulls out a metal box, a rubber coil poking out like a tail. 

“You should’ve pumped the tires while it was warning you,” Seungmin says quietly, twisting off the cap of your tire. He forcefully pushes the air compressor’s hose onto the valve stem and then flicks the machine on, “It leads to flat tires.” You watch as you visibly see your tire inflate, the front end of your car rising along with it. 

“Get in the car and slowly press on the gas.” Seungmin flicks the machine back off and pulls the hose off, twisting the cap back onto the stem, “I’ll push.”

The third time Seungmin walks straight past you, it dawns on you that he is avoiding eye contact, keeping his gaze at your feet or at his toes. 

There was no way he wasn’t. No one could go that long conversing with someone without making eye contact. 

“Are you sure you can do it on your own?” Your hand’s already hovering over the door handle. 

He nods, eyes flickering toward you before he redirects them to the back end of your car, “You wanna go home, don’t you?”

Then you pause. 

“I do,” you answer and then swallow the spit that’s been pooling in your mouth, “But—”

“You’re wasting gas, you know,” he interrupts.

 “Let me speak,” You groan, air visibly leaving your mouth. “Are we going to talk about the kiss?”

“There’s nothing about it that we need to talk about,” Seungmin mutters. His Adam's apple bobs up and down, “Now, hurry up.”

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow, “What are you implying?”

“I mean you only did it to please everyone, right?” He shrugs, “It didn’t mean anything, right?” 

“What makes you say that?” Seungmin was pissing you off. He can’t be speaking cryptically and consciously choosing not to explain himself. 

“I don’t know,” Seungmin mumbles, “Can you just get in the car so we can get out of here?”

You clench your jaw, frustration bubbling inside you like a pot ready to boil over. Why the hell did Seungmin choose to help you out if he had no intentions of confrontation? "No, Seungmin, I can't just ignore this," you retorted, your voice firm. "We kissed, and pretending like it didn't mean anything isn't going to make this… this whatever it is go away."

Seungmin’s shoulders tense and his gaze flickers to his feet. "Look, I don't want to have this conversation right now," he says, his tone bordering on exasperation. "Can we please just deal with the car and talk about this later?"

“Did that kiss mean anything to you, yes or no?” you say bluntly. Your hand drops to your side and you fix your eyes on him.

Seungmin's gaze holds yours for a long moment, his expression unreadable as he processes your question. The tension between you crackles in the air, the weight of the moment heavy on both of you.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Seungmin lets out a slow breath, keeping the muscles in his face as still as possible. He attempts to keep his expressions at bay. "Yes," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper but clear as day. "Yes, it meant something to me."

The words hang between you, and the silence that follows is filled with possibility and uncertainty. You feel your heart race in your chest, a rush of emotion flooding through you at his admission. And although you had mentally prepared yourself for either answer, imagining the answer was far different from actually hearing the words. 

"I like you, Y/N," Seungmin continues, his gaze unwavering as he meets your eyes. "More than I thought I did."

The confession sends a shiver down your spine, a surge of warmth spreading through you at his words. For a moment, neither of you speak, the weight of his confession hanging on a thin thread between the two of you.

Then, slowly, almost hesitantly, you reach out and take his hand in yours, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. And softly, you tell the boy the thing you’ve been keeping to yourself for months. 

"I like you too, Seungmin.”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @ariadores @reignessance

an: 11/12 im almost there