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hazelfoureyes · 6 months

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I just need you to know this story has had me in a chokehold and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I am enjoying writing it. This is gonna be a weird smutty slow burn, so still smut every post but full p in v sex will be a reward you have to work for?

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Redsmut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedysmut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

「warnings/tags: HumanAlastor x FemaleReader, implied attempt to SA, fingering, plot with porn?, Multi part work, bad kind of choking, blood kink, blood licking, just in general blood, Non-Sex repulsed Ace Spectrum Alastor, stalking, murder obvs, finger sucking, smoking kinda kills if you squint, Public sex acts, garter belt, You have a stage name but no one important uses it, Greed, Lust, Human Alastor is a little different than Demon Alastor. 」

minors dni 💅🏽

Part 1 Pretty in Red

The marriage between burlesque and jazz wasn’t unexpected. Before the Great Depression took the nation into a stranglehold, both Jazz and Burlesque were immoral wastes of time only the most barbaric sought out.

And oh, did you love it. Everyone who was made to feel like nobody flocked to your theater and the surrounding neighborhood. Men, women, the people who didn’t agree with either. The biblically inclined, those closer to sodom, the sapphic dolls. Everyone was equal in the halls of jazz rooms and theatres where burlesquers were welcome.

Because of the inclusive nature of such places, you often saw familiar faces. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone from Thursday night to be seen Saturday at a different locale.

That presented certain opportunities and challenges. When you found a good mark, it was easy to be wherever he was and play it off as fate and common interests.

And when you gained a new stalker, someone wanting a personal show, it could be hard to tell until it was too late.

Maybe it was your greed, or just your love of attention, but you found yourself focused almost entirely on a particularly well dressed man one evening. You’d seen him around before. Clean cut, sharp suit, a welcoming smile always on display. He looked like he had money, the most attractive quality of any man you could meet.

So focused on his gleaming stare from the side booths you hadn’t noticed the man at the stage front tables. You barely noticed him the night before, or the night before that, either. Because Smiles, as you took to calling the handsome stranger in the back, had been here three nights now too.

You really put on a show. Shimmying your hips, ostrich feathers following suit with every move. Your brassiere was heavy with shining rhinestones, panties of silk and lace. Your set was almost done, all that was left was to remove your top and slink away behind the curtains to hollers and whistles. Back turned, you unhooked the painful bra and let it fall to the stage with a clunk. Foot in front of foot, you stalked the stage length. With your hand hidden from view you took the feathered fan from the stagehand behind the curtain. As the music crescendoed you turned, fan unfurling just in time to hide yourself.

Groans, mass begging from the audience. Your stage name a chant now, a prayer. “Autumn! Come on!”

As the band slowed, music dying to mark the end of your number, you scanned the crowd. Eyes blinking coyly, you mouthed, “More? Did you want more?”

People were jumping to their feet, not Smiles but that was fine, you were focused now on the adoration of the crowd. The music ended, a second of silence.

You winked, the drums hitting one last beat as you let the fan close.

Fanfare! Men whistling, women clapping. Someone shouted a marriage proposal. You took a bow, twirled on the balls of your feet and slipped gracefully behind the curtains.

Your hands wound to your spine, rubbing blood flow back into your skin as the staff removed your headdress. Someone slipped your robe over you and you nodded a thanks, aching feet carrying you to the dressing room. It was chaos, as usual. Women buzzing around, tits and ass here and there. You smiled. You happened to enjoy this part of the job. Soft bodies in shiny costumes, lovely smells and sweet voices. If you could get dressed quickly enough, you could still take a tour of the room and slide into Smiles’ booth.

“Enjoy the show?” You’d ask. He’d lean in, maybe blush, “Always when you’re here.” Or something like that. You’d cozy up to him, flag down a waiter for something strong and pricey, and get him properly drunk. He’d wake up outside, fine and dandy except his missing cash.

You’ll call him a drunkard if he confronts you, accuse him of getting himself robbed after you refused his advances. You’ll say it too loudly, and he’ll run off.

You danced a little in your seat, another game of cat and mouse about to commence. But first, a smoke.

Unbeknownst to you, the well dressed man hadn’t come to see you. He preferred your singing shows at the little dive bar two blocks over. No, he had come for the man at the front table. For weeks now, he had watched him harassing the ladies of the few joints in New Orleans that weren’t regularly hounded by police. Your smiley mark even heard stories of unsavory acts, many women leaving the dance scene entirely after.

He didn’t care for it. He didn’t care for him. So he took to his hunt, following the man to come to his own conclusions. The pattern of behavior was obvious, and though he hadn’t seen what ended the last obsession, it was clear one of the performers at this club was being stalked as the next victim.

He watched your dance with half lidded eyes, just as much as he watched the man give dirty looks to the other men cheering. Heard the, “Marry me!” shouted at you.

Yes, it was obvious to him now.

So when the target of his interest got up and pushed his way into a staff only door, well, the well dressed man was sure to follow.

The great thing about confidence and a nicely tailored suit is that no one questions you about why you are where you are. So while the brute he tailed had to shove past people to get wherever he was going, people smiled and made room for the gentleman who was not far behind.

He caught the street access door before it closed, allowing it to stay open just a sliver. Enough for one golden brown eye to watch the events unfold.

“Can I have a light?” The stranger asked you. You looked at him, then to the staff only entrance he just came out of.

“I don’t think I know you….,” you handed him the lighter but he instead leaned into you, cigarette hanging from his lips. “You… new?”

You sparked the flint with a practiced thumb, taking three tries to get it lit, and put your hand out. The man didn’t budge, eyebrows rising, “You really don’t recognize me?” He asked, motioning with his hand to come closer. Your eyes glanced down the alley, cars slowly moving past the street. When you looked back, the man took your wrist in his hand. He held you so tightly that the muscles in your palm locked and you dropped the lighter.

“What the fu-,” his hand came across your face, halting your sentence.

“I’m your best customer. Every show. I’m the one who brings flowers.”

Dozens of men bring flowers, especially on the weekend shows. You held your cheek, skin burning. Your hand pulled back, the corner of your lip bleeding from his rings. Scrambling, your mind was searching for the right words.

With a forced smiled, your shaky voice finally piped up, “Oh! Yeah! Oh geez. I am so sorry, doll. I’m just so tired, and the alley is so dark. Here, let’s go inside so I can get a better look at you.” You tried to take your wrist from him but he didn’t loosen up.

“Nah, you ain’t tricking me. You owe me.” He pulled you into him, large hand gripping your face with ease, “You can’t lead on men like this and think you don’t gotta answer for it.” He kissed you, forcing your face into his. “Bitch! Did you fucking bite me?” He threw you into the tin trash cans beside the wall, knocking the wind out of you.

No purse, no sharp object, not even a heeled shoe to defend yourself with. You cursed, so preoccupied with Smiles you forgot your wits.

You spit out the copper saliva, his blood and yours. “I’ll keep biting, too.”

Why scream? The sounds of the next act were bouncing off the brick walls. Upbeat jazz and applause echoing around you. No one would hear you. Men can break your body but you never had to give them your dignity. Never give them the satisfaction of a response.

No. No screaming. You instead spent your energy trying to get to your feet. He took hold of your neck now, throttling you. It wasn’t what you had expected, but as he lifted you off the ground and your little dressing room slippers fell off, you thought this was actually better.

“Well I think that’s quite enough.”

You felt warmth, then registered wetness. Your shin scraped on the asphalt as you were dropped without warning. Trying to open your eyes, you found you couldn’t see. Wiping and blinking away the foreign liquid, you watched your attacker fall to his knees.

Blood was shooting from between his fingers around his own neck, each pulse becoming weaker and weaker, evident through the stream.

When he finally fell over, drained, you were startled to see another man with you. The light reflected off his glasses as he adjusted them, the knife still in his right hand as he did so.

“My, my. What a mess he’s made.” The man smiled down at you, offering a hand. When you didn’t immediately react, he cocked his head to the left, “Is that anyway to treat your rescuer?”

Is that was this was? A rescue? You took his hand with both of yours, pulling yourself up.

Smiles? You blinked away the shock, time to shift into your next part. Damsel. You weren’t out the woods yet.

“You saved my life!” As you pressed yourself into his chest, you tucked your head beneath his chin. You tried to make yourself small. “I owe you! Please let’s go inside, drinks on me!” You looked up, batting your lashes.

“I don’t think that’s wise, dear.” His gaze panned down your dress, soaked through. He could see the thinking behind your eyes.

“No, right….,” You gripped his vest, “We gotta get outta here, fast. There’s a hotel just behind the threatre.” You started to pull his suit jacket off, slipping it over yourself. “No cops, the theatre will get raided. Just— take me somewhere safe?”

You watched him look you over, arm finally extending to let you hook yours with his.

As soon as the hotel door closed behind you, you slipped off his jacket and ran to the dressing table mirror.

Your face was painted red, navy dress now black and sticky. It was good you stayed from view of the reception staff. “I didn’t get my rescuer’s name,” you licked your thumb and rubbed at the blood around your cheeks.

“Alastor. It’s a pleasure.”

You laughed, “Is that what you call a pleasure?” Turning, you pulled the mostly still dry handkerchief from your pocket and dabbed the corner on your tongue. You brought it up to the frame of his glasses and wiped the blood from the metal. “I’d hate to see what you call a bad time.”

Your hand slowed, noticing the way he was looking at you. Typically men’s pupils were blown when they fell on you, but his were constricted. They flitted around your face. His hand took hold of yours, fingers separating the thumb from the handkerchief. He pulled the little square of yellow fabric free with his other hand, allowing him to hold your thumb now by itself.

His lips opened, tongue licking the blood stained finger before placing it directly into his mouth.

Your stared, horrified, as he sucked the digit clean.

His eyes fluttered close, finger popping out of his mouth with a debauched sound. You made no attempt to take back your hand. The realization you may have hopped out of the frying pan and into the fire set in.

“You are a funny one, aren’t you?” You tried to sound as in control as possible. Calm. Unwavered. Offered a timid smile.

He chuckled, “You could say that. May I?” His fingers lifted your chin. You didn’t know what he was asking. His soft smile looked downright loving. He smelled so good, notes of something earthy rising above the copper.

You nodded, because part of you wanted to see where it would go. And part of you thought you didn’t have a choice.

As his face came to yours, you instinctually closed your eyes expecting a kiss. But no, instead you felt his tongue wipe across the cut at the corner of your mouth. His breath blanketed your cheek. Then his hand left your chin, the warmth of his body gone entirely.

You opened your eyes to see him at the door, slipping back into his jacket, “I’ll pay for the night.” He tipped his head to you and exited the room back first, eyes locked with yours until the door closed.

You just stood there in the silence left behind. But as if on cue, the adrenaline waned and your knees buckled under you. You were moments from death, now somehow spared. But what had he— Alastor, been doing there? Did he follow you, too? The cat and mouse had been flipped, or perhaps now this was a fox and hound?

Gripping the dressing table, you pulled yourself up and into the view of the mirror again. Face streaked in dried blood save for the one clean spot where your lips met cheek.

You felt like a ghost the next day. It would be nice to tell someone about what happened but, “Hey a man tried to kill me and then another man killed him! Then he licked blood off my face and I let him. It was the most disturbingly erotic thing to happen to me in months!” would get you tossed into a wagon.

“Are you rude or just stupid?” The theatre manager pulled you aside by the arm when you came into rehearsal. “You can’t just disappear like that, people were waiting.”

Your eyes narrowed, “Was… my absence really the most exciting part of the evening? Not the John in the gutter?”

He huffed, “So that’s it? Got a beau?”

“Wait— nothing else happened last night? After I left?”

“This show doesn’t revolve around you. Plenty happened.”

“Excuse me,” you hurried into the back, “And sorry!”

You opened the street access door and looked into the alley. Trash cans neat and tidy, no dead man, nothing strange or telltale.

You ducked back inside. Had Smiles done this? Obviously, actually. No stranger just cleaned up the dead body. If the flatfeet had found him, the club would have been under scrutiny.

Good, you thought, and went about your work.

Rehearsal dragged on. Little details summoning you back to the night before.

“You okay?” Another performer asked, grabbing your hand and inspecting the blood around your cuticles.

“Oh it’s not mine!” You laughed, she laughed, you walked off before she could clarify.

When applying your makeup, you remembered his hands on your face. They were so soft. Definitely a man of means. A brief intrusive thought, the other hands on your face last night.

You pranced on stage, going through the motions of your routine. Even in the empty hall, your eyes wandered to the booth he’d been in. And as you took the stage in earnest later that night you searched the crowd for the glint of his glasses and found nothing shiny nor promising.

Back in the dressing room you took a moment to wonder what the actual fuck you we’re doing. He murdered a man in front of you, why were you hoping to see him again? He had half a mind to kill you next.

But would that really be so bad? Your life was routine, boring even. The only thing keeping your lungs expanding was the applause. Maybe the headlines of your death would cause such an uproar, dancer struck down in her prime, that you could bask in the loving glow all the way from hell.

One way to remain famous, you considered. A dramatic death.

Not that you were famous. You weren’t part of the national circuits. Just your local theatres, a common face and body to the sinners of Louisiana’s most infamous city. But, well, fame is relative. For the scene you were in, you were your own little star.

A shining light. Shimmering. The faint light reflecting off— Blood. For a second you could only remember looking through bloodied, heavy lashes.

“You’ve been so out of it. Trouble in paradise?” Ruth, the curviest of your coworkers and arguably the favorite of the crew, rested her chin on your head. Looking at each other in the mirror, you offered a soft smile.

“I’ll letcha know when I get there.”

She pinched your cheek, “Tommy said you had a new guy. I just figured-,”

“That isn’t,” you clenched your eyes shut, “no, no guy. I just got locked out last night in the alley. The sticky-,” sticky and viscous blood, “back door wouldn’t open up. I didn’t want to come in the front in my slippers so I just hoofed it home.”

She patted your head, “if you say so! Be careful out there though. Dangerous these days.”

An understatement.

You enjoyed the spotlight, but more than that you craved the attention doted on you after. You’d walk through the hall to the bar to adoring looks and free drinks. It bothered you that Tommy was telling the girls you had a man. You didn’t want to appear too closed off, or for word to spread to the customers.

Last thing you needed was men passing you by for more available options. Not that the pay wasn’t fine. Ends were being met, but grifting added an element of thrill. You really did love the chase. Finding someone and deciding he would be yours, he would fall under your spell and be at your feminine mercy. It made you feel powerful, almost mythical. And the money was nice. Sometimes you didn’t even need to steal, the men would just lavish you in gifts and you’d let it fizzle out naturally. Normally their wives would snatch them back or they’d just get tired of waiting for you to leave the stage and dance into their domestic dreams. A housewife? An adopted mother to a grown man during the day, a hungry nymph at night? For what, an allowance and a home you didn’t own? Pass. Where’s that handsome man with his knife? That was a much better steel to fall onto than what these men offered from their laps.

From your view at the bar you knew he wasn’t there. But with a nod you decided the chase was still on. You were going to get your victory. If anything, this would be easier. You had dirt on him. Blackmail would be simple enough. Bloody clothes and the perfect alibi; being a woman. No cop would think you took down that hulking man.

Ah, right. There was no body.

That would be an issue. He had to have taken it somewhere. Just find him and follow. Worst case scenario, you play the usual game and steal whatever cash was in his wallet.

Well, worst case you die.

You slept sitting up to keep your hair set, during the day your makeup barely was there but a red lip always the star. You had three nice dresses (well, you had had four) so you figured three nights to find him before moving on.

You slinked through the crowds of the hot and sweaty dance club Moxie. Swinging music kept bodies moving, and though you kept your eyes open you didn’t catch sight of this Alastor fellow. Which was fine! You enjoyed a few dances, swing always making you feel energized. Not a waste of a Friday night.

Saturday was easy, the lounge on fifth. Smooth jazz, plush chairs, rich men. Definitely a place you could imagine Smiles to frequent. The whisky was all top shelf, and many gentlemen offered you a lap to sit. Sure, no Alastor, but you didn’t go home empty handed.

You weren’t a particularly great singer, but if the room was small enough and the piano loud enough, you could please a crowd. Your friend had you on a semi-set schedule most Sundays at her little dive too many blocks from Main Street. Her darling played piano, you sat and sang to the couple dozen patrons stuffed into the one room bar. When you finished your set, you took your bows and looked for your friend. You needed to tell her you wouldn’t be staying.

Your polite nods and gracious thank yous were abruptly ended by a tap on your shoulder, “You dropped this, miss.” You did a mental check of your purse before turning around.

“Oh, a sight for sore eyes. Mr. Alastor.” Your face lit up, you could see it in his glasses.

“You’re too kind. Here, I apologize for the delay. I wanted to return them clean.” In his hand was your yellow handkerchief, folded neatly. You took it and found it uncharacteristically heavy.

When you unfurled it, your brass lighter fell into your waiting palm. Your thumb caressed the engraving.

Alastor watched your face as the lighter tumbled out. “I figured it was important, given the condition and detailing.”

You tested the weight in your hand, “Did you fill it?” You looked to him incredulously. He nodded.

It was a surprisingly kind act, and you needed a second to regain your composure. “I don’t know how to thank you.” Your quick wit failed for a moment, but rebounded fast. “Except with a drink. My treat. To my rescuer.”

He mulled the idea, your reaction to him was interesting. Alastor had thought if he approached you first you’d show a little more fear, or shock. But you looked downright chipper to see him there.

“Unfortunately I don’t have much time tonight. I had just wanted to return your items.”

Your smile dropped. How did he know you were here? Had he been carrying— no, he said he had them cleaned. Had he seen you here before, before the incident? A chuckle, smile brought back, “My luck is terrible. You always flee me. I hope you don’t see my company as deadweight.”

Alastor’s smile twitched, eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses, “Not at all! I think you’d find I’m quite comfortable with-.”

“Lugging people around?” You said. That constricted pupil again, eyes wild. A chill ran down your spine. Alarms were going off. Wrong answer. You straightened your back, popping the items into your purse, “Next time.”

Alastor nodded, “Yes. Next time, then.”

You fucked it up. You knew you had, but suddenly his words felt like a thinly veiled threat.

You turned to leave and hadn’t seen his smile sour.

It hadn’t been a threat. He hadn’t anticipated you to notice the implication. Most people would have been so blinded by his charm they would fail to notice the glaring red flags. He was mildly impressed. You would be more trouble than he had expected.

Alastor knew he needed to do something about the clearly clever woman who was seemingly expecting him. He had followed you for several days, surprised to find you not spreading word about the murder. You hadn’t spoken to anyone, really. Even the man you left the lounge with, you just smiled and nodded nearly all evening while the man dominated the conversation. So, your sharp wit took him off guard. Who were you pretending to be? And why?

All of your cleverness fell apart when you tried to follow him. It was almost comical. He felt bad. This was going to be embarrassing for you.

He took several right turns and stepped into the park just outside of the bar. You thought perhaps he had gotten lost and considered turning around after you realized you’d lost sight of him. As you passed a large weeping willow, you were pulled under the curtains of hanging moss by your waist.

Back against the large tree, you could only pout.

“What are you after, stalking a man in the dead of night?” Alastor had you pinned, both hands on either side of your head. His body boxed you in, not that there was much more to see than moss and darkness.

You blinked several times. What a question. You answered honestly, “You.” He cocked a brow. Then you lied, “Your affection. Your time.”

Something akin to a giggle bubbled from his chest. “I don’t have much affection, but I have even less time.” Your eyes darted around, looking for your next move. “I-,” you grabbed him by the face and kissed him. When you broke the kiss he was staring wide eyed, glasses askew. He opened his mouth to speak and you kissed him again, longer, harder.

He seemed frozen under your mouth, lips taut. Your hands roamed his face, messing up his hair and glasses. Mind reeling. Play the nymph. Be the whore the men always said they hated. Be too strong, too forward, too much and he’ll run off like men do. You could try again another day.

Your hand reached for his lap, his hips instinctively jerking away. Perfect. Men these days can’t get it up for a woman who takes the lead.

Alastor was entirely unsure what the fuck was happening. You were wildly unpredictable. When you grabbed at his dick, he thought his eyes would cross from the shock. Is this what ‘affection’ meant to you? He couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand you. Were you really just lustful? Even after what you’d seen him—

You bit at his bottom lip, pulling slightly. Big eyes looking back at him. Your breath was already running away from you, adrenaline seemingly synonymous with Alastor. Staring up at him, you waited. His move.

It was his turn to blink. He looked off to his left, eyes swinging back to you. With a shrug, he leaned his body back towards yours. His hand slid down the front of your dress; red silk. A deer in the headlights, you tensed. The rare third option; fight, flight, freeze. Soon his fingers were tracing the lace of your stockings, climbing up the garter straps.

His eyes were studying your face. You didn’t want to give the wrong answer again, but at this point you weren’t sure any answer was right. This was taking a sudden turn and your foot was off the brake. You closed your eyes, opting out of the scrutiny of his stare. His hand met your stomach and began to slip down again. He rested it between your thighs, longer fingers and palm cupping the entirety of your sex.

Alastor struggled to decipher your expression. It was almost like a pout, but more subtle. You hadn’t said stop or pushed him away yet. Was he right? You were just… horny? As his hand slid back up and pried their way into your panties, you trembled.

It had been so long since someone else’s hand was on you. Someone whose hands you genuinely enjoyed, who you wanted to be on you.

Is that right? You wanted him to touch you?

Maybe it was the stare, or the smile. Probably just the adrenaline.

His hand found its place again, middle finger bending to part your folds and feel your wetness. You whimpered, hand coming to cover your own mouth.

“Is this what you wanted?” He said it low, a husky tone he didn’t have before.

No. Maybe. You nodded yes.

“Will you be satisfied now? No more tailing me?”

No. Probably not. Another nod.

His finger pushed in, and with a kind of greed you didn't recognize your hips ground down into his palm. He slipped in and out of you with ease. You had no idea when or why you got so wet.

“I always end up dripping around you, Alastor,” you whispered through your fingers. His ring finger joined. Why couldn’t you shut up? Why did you have to bring up, well, the murder?

“A common problem for those I take an interest in.”

Oh no. You moaned softly into your hand. Sharp mind made dull by his fingers so you didn’t, couldn’t, process his double meaning.

Oh no. The sounds of footsteps, a pair of lovers sneaking into the park for privacy. You heard their giggles, the sounds of kisses interrupting their walking.

“Shhh”, he breathed into your ear as he worked a third finger into your heat. One knuckle, two knuckles. A whimper. His hand came to press down over your own on your mouth, a second barrier for your mewling. You groaned, the sound coming from your throat.

Whispers. The silhouette of the two interlopers was visible through the willow’s curtains. You watched from over his shoulder, pussy clenching around him. Three knuckles deep, bottoming out.

Fuck it. You moaned freely into your hand, wiggling down onto his hand. Hips rolling, you let your little sounds of praise flow.

The couple laughed, “That’s the spirit!” A man said, a woman hushing him and pulling him away.

Alastor grinned into your neck, immensely amused. He would have better luck predicting a dice roll than your next move.

You hadn’t realized how hollow you’d been until now, feeling so full. When alone, you focused on just cumming, fingers on your clit and mind on memories. You never bothered much with anything else.

Your hunger intensified. You wanted more. Both hands reached for his crotch again, finding nothing there for you. You could have cried. How were you a wet mess pressed against a tree and he was soft as a newspaper in a rainstorm?

Your pride stung. Men usually stood at attention around you. A half sob into the air earned you a chuckle from Alastor. “It’s no reflection of you, darling.” His nose nudged your ear lobe, “I need a little different stimulation than most.”

“Do you play for the other team?” You considered how you could momentarily switch.

A louder laugh, “I don’t have a team.” He leaned back now to look at you. His freehand came to press on your lower stomach, gently pushing your womb down. Your brows knit, why did that feel so good? Hands going to the tree behind you for stability.

“Sure feels like you know how to play. This is-,” his hand switched from thrusting slowly in and out to moving front and back. It sent vibrations up into you. Your eyes rolled close. Shut up. Stop talking. Focus. Close.

He kissed around your open mouth, “Well, it’d be unamerican to not dabble. When necessary, or when the conditions are right.”

Double speak over, “Just tell me what to do to get you to fuck me.”

Alastor’s head fell back as he laughed earnestly, most likely alerting anyone in the immediate area. “Ha! No, this is more fun.”

“Oh fuck you,” you brought a hand around to your throbbing clit to quicken your release.

“Maybe next time, dear.” He took a second, fingers in you sliding around your walls in search of something before finding his place and continuing. Your breath noticeably changed, instead of panting you were practically holding it in. You needed the pressure, you needed something to squeeze that spring of pleasure down so it could snap back. As your face went flush, he kissed at your temple, “You look so pretty in red.”

“Oh god-,” Your head fell onto his chest, your joint effort bringing you to orgasm.

“A little late on Sunday for prayers, don't you think?”

A tiny scream into his suit pocket, his hand not stopping until your thighs finished twitching around him. Even after his hand stopped moving you gripped him by the wrist and rolled onto his fingers a few more times. The pleasure ebbing but still spiking every time he moved against you.

Ah, greed. That was it. He understood a little better. This wasn’t lust, not alone. You were definitely a mix of the two. With a sigh, you released your hold and let him slide out of you. Already you felt lonelier. Already you wished to start over.

With his dry hand he smoothed out your dress. You weren’t ashamed but you suddenly felt too embarrassed to look him the eye. But you did, hearing him hum as he sucked his fingers clean.

Why were you only ever in his mouth in the strangest ways?

“You always taste so sweet, dear. Now!” You wanted to say something clever and salacious like, ‘there’s more where that came from’ but he didn’t afford you the opportunity. He offered you his hooked arm, “It’s dangerous in the park at night. Let’s get you to a cab and on your way home.”

“Is this a hobby of yours?” Your legs were wobbly but otherwise fine. “Illegal activities in public?”

“Funny, I was just wondering the same of you. Stalking is a crime, dear.”

You bit your lip. “Touché.”

He flagged down a taxi, “Tell him where to go.” You slid into the back seat and half-whispered to the driver. Alastor leaned into the passenger side front window and after paying the man, went to close your door, “You’ve been an entertaining sparring partner. Goodbye, sweetheart.”

With a thud of the door and a growl of the engine, you were driving away from him. You could see him in the rear window. He didn’t dare to move, he didn’t need you following another step of his.

Which was unfortunate for him, as you were already scheming how to find him again.

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @angelicwillows

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

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rageserenity · 6 months

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It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.

For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!

With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)

The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.

Mutual Pining

Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.

2. Alternate Meetings

There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?

3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink

This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!

4. Canon Fix-It

All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.

5. Hurt/Comfort

Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹

6. Canon Compliant

Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!

7. Beach Divorce

Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!

8. Domestics

Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.

9. Found Family

The real heart of x-men!

10. Time Travel

There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.

11. AU

Love a good AU!

12. There Is Only One Bed

Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?

13. Genosha

By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.

14. Declaration(s) of Love

Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?

15. Jealousy

Need I say more.

16. Reunion

These two have absolutely no chill.

17. Soulmates

Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.

18. The DOFP Aircraft

The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?

19. Gay Mutant Road Trip

You already know.

20. Body Swap

SO fun when people have superpowers.

21. First Kiss

When? How? Who initiated it?

22. The Mansion

Mansion!content is a genre of its own.

23. Conflicting Ideology

Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.

24. Sebastian Shaw

A trope unto himself.

25. Team As Matchmaker

They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?

26. Cooking

Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…

27. Hurt No Comfort

Plenty of scope with these two 🥲

28. Growing Old Together

Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!

29. Making Up

*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe

30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know

Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.

I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁

*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I��m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)

If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.

Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!

#revivecherik #cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #xmfc #james mcavoy #michael fassbender #x men days of future past #x men #charles x erik #magneto #professor x

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scarletlizzard · 8 months

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Epilogue

Sessions Series

Paring: stalker Wanda x female reader

Tags Minors DNI: stalking, mentions of a knife, smut, smidge of somnophilia, fingering, strap on use (R Receiving), surprisingly fluff. This type of relationship is super toxic, okay!!

Masterlist

A/N: Thank y'all so so much for reading this series. Truly has been so nice seeing everyones comments and reblogs (the tags kill me every time)! This was my first series and hopefully there will be more, I really enjoy writing and am happy to share with you kind people. Let me know if you have any questions, would love to know what you think!! Thanks 💚💚

New Years Eve 2018

Your senses were heightened as you became aware of a set of eyes on you. Her gaze fixated on you from across the room, behind the crowd of people that swarmed around you. You watch with a familiar spark in your chest, a sense of safety that your shadow was watching over you.

"They're about to start the countdown, I'm going to find Maria!" Natasha yells closely to your ear, breaking the eye contact you held with Wanda.

You give her a small smile and nod, "Alright, find me after!" Before kissing her cheek and giving her a short hug. You watch your best friend push through the crowd until you can no longer see her red head, and your eyes travel back to your shadow. Panic settles in when you realize she's nowhere to be found.

Around you people begin pairing off, touch hungry ones scanning the crowd for a last chance at a kiss before the New Year. A touch on your shoulder makes you smile and turn around, but instead of seeing your Wanda, you see a drunk man attempting to balance himself in front of you.

"Hi sweetie," he slurs, resting his hand on your shoulder. The '2019' glasses he wore took up most of his face, a drink in his other hand sloshed onto your shoes.

"I'm sorry, I'm looking for someone..." You groan and try to push his hand off of your shoulder. To your suprise, he keeps it there.

"I'm somebody, you found me!" His words slur together as he presses closer.

"Seriously? Get off!" You raise your voice and put your hands on his broad chest, pushing him back. It's only a second later that you feel a body pressed against you from behind, the intoxicating scent wrapping around you.

"Hey man, I'd back off." Wandas husky voice sounds from behind you, but she moves to step in front of you as the man steps forward again.

He laughs and holds up his drink towards her, "We're just having fun, you wanna join in?" He slurs again, and Wanda makes a face of disgust.

"Just go away before we do something we'll both regret," she threatens. It's then you notice her hand is behind her back, settled on what you know is a blade hidden underneath her jacket.

Instinctively you reach out, resting your hand on top of hers. You watch as her shoulders drop and her grip on the handle softens. A blush creeps up your neck as you once again realize the affect you had on her.

Who, really, was the mouse?

"Fine, fine, you two are no fun," the man mumbles with a shrug, leaving the two of you in the crowd.

Before Wanda can turn around, you wrap your arms around her stomach, hugging her from behind. You feel soft vibrations from her back as she chuckles, turning in your arms.

"Okay, little mouse?" She asks softly, her demeanor changed in an instant as her green eyes meet yours. You nod and slide your hands up to her shoulders.

"I was hoping you would show up," you bite back a smirk as she leans in. The crowd begins counting down, signaling the seconds to midnight.

10... 9... 8...

"I'm always there, you know that," Wanda rasps in your ear, placing a soft kiss just below.

7... 6... 5...

The thought doesn't bother you, of her always being there watching. Waiting. Instead of dread, you felt comfort. You knew she would always be there. One hand cups her face as she continues to leave soft kisses across your jaw.

You would take any bad, as long as you had this good. As long as you had Wanda.

4... 3... 2... 1...

As cheers errupt around you, shouting, "Happy New Year!" You waste no time pressing your lips to hers, your fingers tangling into her soft brown hair. Wanda holds you tightly against her as she slips her tongue into your parted mouth. You savor the flavor of mint on her tongue, biting down softly on her bottom lip. She groans into the kiss, and you can't help but smile.

"You're going to be the death of me, little mouse..." she sighs onto your lips, and you nod.

"You love it..." You giggle, causing her to laugh. She pulls back with an unfamiliar look in her eyes, lips parted like she wants to say something. You wait, but only watch as they pull into a crooked grin before kissing you again.

***

January 2019

Wanda peers through the darkness into the windows of your house, her figure disconcernable against the shadows.

You walk around, a prickling sensation on the back of your neck, knowing someone is watching your every move. Despite the comforting warmth in the room, a shiver runs down your spine, knowing your shadow was just outside.

But instead of fear, instead of unease, you simply walk to the front of the house and stare out the window.

Wanda remains concealed, her presence a silent observer in the stillness of the night. She looks with curious eyes before realizing what you were doing, and a smirk forms on her face.

Your hands move to the locks, opening them up with a 'click'. As you stare off into the shadows, a sense of vulnerability washes over you, the feeling of leaving the windows unlocked. You have to lock and unlock it three more times before you're comfortable.

"Little mouse.." A whisper in the dark, a body next to yours as you stir in your sleep.

You could've sworn it was a dream as her hand traveled down your body, cupping your clothed pussy. She ran small circles over your clit, the clothing between become wetter. You felt your skin burn under the covers, aching for her as she teases you. Then her hand slides inside of your pants, rubbing against your now sensitive clit.

You awake with a start and attempt to sit up, but her other hand immediately covers your mouth and presses you back onto the pillow. Your hands fly up to her wrist that held a hand over your mouth, your breathing ragged as you attempted to figure out what was going on.

"It's okay, pretty girl. Just let me take care of you.." Wanda whispers, slipping her fingers inside of you. Her body presses further against you as she moves her wrist, her fingers pumping in and out of you at a quicker pace. Your moans muffle from her hand on your mouth.

"Such a good little mouse.." She praises, trapping your moans into the palm of her hand. "You were just begging for me to sneak in, needed me to come fuck you huh?" Her tone is condescending, but you only groan in response as her lips attach to your neck.

"That's it, just like that," Wanda chuckles darkly as you squeeze her fingers tightly, her thumb moving circles on your clit. "Now I want you to be a good girl and cum on my fingers, okay?"

As she sucks the skin on your collarbone, you follow as she commands, coming on her fingers and biting down harshly on her hand. Wanda moans at the feeling and the way you fall apart for her. You knew by the sound of her belt unbuckling that it would only be the first of the night.

***

February 2019

"So you and Wanda, huh?" Natasha laughs, shaking her head. "Was the therapy that good?"

Your face turns a dark shade of red as you think back on your sessions, the dark road it led you down. You shrug and take a sip of coffee, "I suppose it was..."

There was no way you could tell Natasha everything. You wouldn't. The Cat and Mouse game you and Wanda played was special, just for the two of you. But there was no way you could hide your feelings for her anymore, or the marks she left on your body, from your best friend.

"You're happy?"

"For the first time in a long time," you answer honestly. Through the whirlwind of emotions Wanda caused you, you knew you were.

"Taking your medication again?" Natasha raises an eyebrow as you tap the side of your cup 4 times absemindetly.

"It'll never go away..." You refer to your compulsion, "But I'm learning to cope with it."

"Good! Now, when are we going to go on a double date?" She smiles widely at you.

A date... you couldn't imagine Wanda taking you on a date. Maybe you could sit at a nice restaurant and she would watch from across the street. Maybe four rows away from you as you sit in a movie theater. Would it always be this way? Always about the chase?

"Hopefully soon," is all you say, a small smile planted on your lips.

***

May 2019

The microwave beeps from across the kitchen, and you set your glass of wine down before walking over and pulling out a bag of freshly popped popcorn.

Wanda watches hidden in the shadows as you grab a second glass, filling it up and topping off your own. She raises an eyebrow at the sight. Jealousy seeps in through all the cracks of her chest. She knew for a fact that Natasha was with her girlfriend tonight, and you never had anyone else over, especially this late at night.

Two glasses of wine sit on the counter along with a bowl of popcorn as you grab your phone. Her heart races as she sees the smile spread across your lips as you stare at the small screen.

A vibrate from her pocket distracts her from you.

Wanda takes her phone out to check the text, shaking her head with a sigh. She laughs at the message with the ridiculous nickname. It was only fair, she supposed.

You - Want to watch a movie, kitty?

She looks up from the screen to see you standing by the window, waving at her. Wanda tucks her phone back in her jeans and walks towards your house, where she finds the front door unlocked.

"Do you ever get tired of watching?" You ask curiously. Wanda now sat next to you on the couch, her arm wrapped around your shoulders as you leaned into her warmth. New and uncharted territory, the most normal interaction the two of you had privately. It felt so natural. You longed for this.

"No," she answers sternly, reaching into the bowl you held and tossing some popcorn into her mouth.

In the months Wanda had revealed herself as your shadow the two of you became closer, but she still felt out of reach. You noticed during sex that she would never let you touch her, and you craved to reach out and caress her. You didn't know why, and any time you tried to ask her, she would shut it down and become distant. Wanda still watched, too, every night. Any time she wasn't in the room with you, you could feel her eyes on you. By now, you didn't mind it, but you were starting to want... more.

"What if you... didn't have to go far to watch me?" You ask casually, keeping your eyes on the movie that played in front of you.

"What do you mean?" Wanda asks, and by the tone of voice, you could tell she knew what you meant. She wanted to hear you say it.

You lean forward to set down the bowl on the coffee table and move to situate yourself to sit on her lap. Your legs straddled her thighs, and your hands rested on her shoulders. You let the nail on your finger scratch up and down the side of her neck softly.

"Baby.." You whisper to her, feeling her strong hands grip your waist. For some reason, Wanda loved when you called her that, and you saved it for times like this.

You grab her jaw in your hand, tilting it to the side so you had full access to her neck. Your lips descend upon the soft skin, tongue licking a stripe to her pulse point. Wanda shifts beneath you, fingers fidgeting against your hips as you begin to bite down and suck.

"Is that what you want then, little mouse? Did you fully think about what that means?" Her voice is laced with lust as you trail down and leave another mark. "It means you'll never be alone, you won't sleep alone. It means I can use you whenever I please..." Wandas hands travel underneath your shirt, exploring your back.

"I know.." You mumble against her skin, your hips rolling slightly down against her to find she was definitely packing.

"It means you'll belong to me. You'll be mine, completely," Wanda growls as you leave another mark, her senses failing her as you continue to grind against her.

But you stop suddenly and remove your lips from her neck, your hands on either side of her face.

"I always was, baby. I am... completely," you whisper and look into her eyes, finding that same look she gave you on New Years Eve.

Wanda kisses you passionately, slipping her tongue into your mouth the second she can. Her hands travel your body before she's pulling your shirt over your head, you do the same for her.

"I need you so fucking bad," you groan against her lips, the ache between your legs growing as you throb around nothing. Wanda nods and hums in response, lifting you up and laying your back on the couch.

She slides her hand into your panties, feeling just how badly you needed her. "All mine, huh?" Wanda chuckles as her fingers pump inside of you.

"Completely," you moan out as she begins kissing your chest. You reach around her to undo her bra, sliding it away so you can feel her breasts pressed against you.

Wanda marks your skin as hers, fingering you until you're falling apart underneath her. You watch with wide eyes as she takes her fingers out of you and puts them into her own mouth, sucking your juices off of them.

"Mmm, you taste so good, pretty girl.." Wanda gushes and then chuckles as a whimper leaves your mouth. She then leans down and kisses you in a quick and sloppy kiss, letting you taste yourself on her tongue. She parts to unzip her jeans, sliding them off of her before lining her strap up between your legs.

Wanda slides in, filling you up completely with her faux cock. The position, the closeness, this was all so new. Usually you were bound or on your stomach. This was different. It was so much more intimate. She moves her hips slowly against yours, a low moan escaping her throat.

"So good, detka.. always so fucking good," she groans and lets out a few Sokovian curses as she thrusts harder into you. Her arms rest on either side of you, holding her weight above you. You take the opportunity to wrap your arms around her.

She tenses and begins to pull back, but your legs wrap around her hips tightly to pull her closer into you. You both moan at the feeling of closeness, her being deeper than ever in you, and Wanda finds herself lost in you. She lets your hands roam the skin on her back as she fucks you.

"Baby - feels so good!" You cry out in her ear, the weight of her body pressed down onto you as she grunts against your neck. Your nails scratch down her back, causing a guttural moan to escape her lips. You throb around the plastic cock at the sound of it, wanting her as close as possible.

"I know, I know... so good... Christ," she praises you and moans in agreement, pace picking up. You can feel the muscles in her back flex as she pounds into you. The way she's moaning into your skin, you can tell she's close.

She fills you completely with every thrust, hitting that one spot that makes you see stars over and over again. Your fingers feel every inch of skin she'll let you touch, from the few moles that spread along the top below her shoulders to her back dimples on the bottom. You let your nails mark into her skin again, and Wanda feels on cloud 9. Pure bliss.

"Fuck, pretty girl I'm gonna cum," Wanda moans in your ear and picks her head up to look in your eyes, finding only pleasure written on your face. You nod at her words and hold onto her back, your legs still gripping tightly around her hips to bring her desperately closer to you.

"Me too, baby, I-I'm so close!" You gasp, feeling her lips on yours.

"Fuck, fuck! Always.. so good, fuck, I love you so much.. oh God," Wanda moans into your mouth as she thrusts into you, fucking you hard into the couch. You don't have time to register what she says before the tight coil that had built up inside you releases. A wave of pleasure crashing over you.

The two of you come at the same time, the sounds of your moans and Wanda chanting your name as she slaps her hips into yours. Wanda slows to a stop once she's sure she's taken everything she can from you.

Your chest moves rapidly as you look up at her, her jaw tense as she lets out one last groan. The muscles in her back tense up as your fingers trace small circles on her skin, and she begins to move away.

"Stay... don't move, please?" You whisper, pleading with her. Wanda sighs and gives in, too tired to move. Your heart races as you replay her words over and over again in your mind.

You bring your other hand up, stroking her brown strands of hair that splayed across the two of you and closed your eyes. Wandas arms wrap tightly underneath you as she rests her head in the crook of your neck.

She had never let you hold her like this before, touch her like this. You knew what she said was true. Her words were not just words spoken lightly. Maybe she hadn't meant to say it then, but you knew she loved you. You knew she would never let you go, even if you didn't love her back.

But you did. With all of your mind, body, and soul. Everything that you were, are, and will be.

More than you loved the special bottle of red that sat on the counter, more than the feeling of a paintbrush in your hand, more than I Love Lucy, more than counting to four.

Wandas breathing slows against your neck, her body fully relaxed as you caress her. You had never seen or felt her so at ease before.

"I love you..." You whisper as you hear soft snores fall from her lips.

It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep after, the sounds of her quiet snores and slow breathing along with the comforting weight of her body on top of yours, lull you to sleep.

Dreaming, hoping, there was a way Wanda would give in to you.

To let the game fade away.

But when you awake in the morning, you're alone on the couch. A blanket covers your naked body, hopes and dreams fading away into reality.

Wanda was gone, and the worst part was you knew she would be back, out of reach again.

You give yourself a moment on the couch, only a moment to cry, before wiping your tears and shaking the sounds of her soft snores out of your mind. The way her body melted into yours as your hearts beat insync, the way she kissed you lovingly, the words "I love you" slipping from her lips in a desperate, intimate moment. It was all a game, after all.

The wine glasses and popcorn bowl were missing from the coffee table. Curious, you wrap the blanket around your body and walk to the kitchen. The dishes were clean and sitting on the drying rack. It was then you saw on the counter a glass of water and a bottle of your medication along with a paper and pen. You slowly pick up the paper, an old receipt you had lying around, and read the note:

I'll be back later with some boxes. Don't forget to take your medicine.

The curved letters tug at your heartstrings, the next lines causing another spark to ignite in your chest.

I love you

If the game was still afoot, Wanda was winning, because you were utterly and irrevocably hers.

***

October 2019

In the sunlit room, you stood in front of a canvas, wooden brush in hand. Each stroke, movements precise and deliberate, guided by a vision taking form in your mind. You inhale the scent of oil paint as you take some more on your brush before leaning in, adding intricate detail to breathe life into your creation. Time seems to stop as you lose yourself to the creative side of your brain.

You don't hear the creak of the door opening, or feel Wandas gaze on you as she stands in the doorway, admiring you.

The large button down you wore loosely was covered in paint, a work of art in itself from all the leftover paint of paintings you had done. You hummed along to the music, playing softly behind you, tongue between your teeth and brows scrunched together as you concentrated on the small details.

Wanda can't help the crooked smile on her face as she takes in the sight of you in your element. Her heart pounding out of her chest as you brush a piece of fallen hair out of your face. She walks closer, setting her hands on your waist.

You gasp at her touch, the feeling of her nose tickles your ear as she kisses your neck.

"Baby.. you scared me," you giggle and rest a hand on top of hers, leaning back against her.

There it was again, that feeling Wanda would never get used to. The feeling that wanted to drop her to her knees right there and whisper devotions between your legs, something she did more often since you had moved in with her.

"I got tired of watching," Wanda jokes, a rumble in her chest as she laughs. You turn yourself in her arms, resting your hands on her chest.

"I don't mind you watching... but I prefer you touching," you whisper the last part sinfully, the word darkening Wandas emerald eyes. She picks you up easily, you squeal with excitement, and wrap your legs around her waist.

And there on the floor, in the room Wanda had transformed into your art studio, she whispered those devotions against your skin and between your legs.

You lay on the cloth tarp that covered the floor underneath your canvas, drawing patterns on the skin of Wandas stomach. You turn in her arm to look at her.

A jaw sculpted by God, green eyes blessed by the angels, and a smile gifted from the Devil.

The sun shines on her face, highlighting smudges of green paint on her cheek. You giggle and let your fingers travel to the colored paint stripes spread across her body, a handprint on her shoulder.

"You're my favorite work of art," you murmur to her, feeling her thumb brush the paint on your hips. She smiles, your favorite crooked smile.

"Little mouse?" Wanda asks, her voice low and calm as she stares into your eyes.

"Yes, baby?"

"Marry me.."

And it's not a question, it's a statement. A declaration. You didn't need a moment to think, because you already knew you were hers, forever.

"Yes," you say anyways, nodding your head. Wandas' smile widens, and she lifts you on top of her, kissing you the best she could without letting her smile go.

***

Christmas Day 2021

The snow crunches under Wandas' boots as she watches you walk from the kitchen to the living room, a towel on your shoulder. Your hands fumbled with something unseen, hidden from her view. Your brows furrowed in concentration, and you shook your head, mumbling something to yourself.

And then you looked up and saw her. The widest smile overcame your face. You radiated pure joy.

Wandas' heart sped up at the sight of you as she carried wood and walked towards the front door.

"Reminiscing, kitty?" You purr as you greet her at the door with a kiss and a hug, she hums against your lips.

"You don't miss it, little mouse?" Wanda chuckles and kisses your jaw, the wood dropping to the floor.

"Not when I have all this..." You sigh happily as she kisses down your neck, her hands moving under your shirt.

A cry from the other room interrupts the moment.

"Mm, those boys always know when to start, don't they?" She mumbles, "I knew when I heard twins, they would be trouble."

Wanda hears a radiant laugh escape your lips, and she gives you a crooked smile in return. You cup her face in your hands, the ring on your fourth finger on the left hand is cool against her cheek.

"I loved you then, and I love you even more now, Wanda.." you whisper, breath fanning against her face.

"I love you even more, little mouse.." she says softly, giving you one last kiss before walking into the living room, your hand in hers.

#marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wanda x fem!reader #elizabeth olsen #dark wanda x reader

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o-sachi · 1 month

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Dress to Impress Headcanons Pt. 1 - for WinBre Week!

ᯓ what's it like to play the roblox game dress to impress with the Wind Breaker characters? ᯓ characters; sakura haruka, suo hayato, nirei akihiko, sugishita kyotaro, umemiya hajime, hiragi toma (more characs in the next part hopefully) ᯓ tags; crack, some profanity lol, gn reader, no y/n, can be platonic/romantic

[🐟]: for day 8 - side missions prompt! (because dti is a side mission) @windbreakerweek

Sakura Haruka

"How the fuck do I win..."

It will take forever to convince him to play because apparently 'there is no way he's playing dress-up that's made for children' but will fold as soon as you tell him he's just saying that because he hates you.

He keeps forgetting where certain items are and keeps going in circles around the place. That's why he thinks 5 minutes isn't enough.

"Where the fuck are the heels with the pretty pink bows? Man." / "You're going in circles, y'know?" / "Not my fault this shit's a maze."

Pretty standard outfits. Like they're not terrible, but they're not impressive enough to get 4 or 5 stars.

He's more of a simplicity-is-beauty type of guy so that also reflects in the kind of outfits that he makes. But the kids in the server are not having it.

"What does 'ate and served' mean?"

SO SALTY WHEN HE LOSES. But he'll brush it off and pretend that he's cool about it because he is not about to let anyone know he cares about some stupid dress-up game.

Suo Hayato

"Oh, look. I got first place again~"

He was easier to convince. But only if you knew how good he'd be, you wouldn't have asked him to play with you. Why? 'Cuz your morale is plummeting by the second.

He doesn't even need to try. Suo just lets his natural sense of style bleed into the way he plays the game AND HE WINS. He's pretty and so are his outfits.

Suo knows that it's mostly kids playing the game. So when he figures out there are younger people on the server, he'll rate them pretty high to put a smile on their face. (HE'S SO SWEET).

"Suo... it didn't even follow the theme." / "But it's quite nice, don't you think?"

You notice that you rank faster when you duo with him. You've been exploiting this little feature.

"We make a pretty good team, don't we?" / "Huh? Oh, yeah. Haha totally..."

Nirei Akihiko

"OH, this one's good... No, but this one's really good too..."

Nirei is everyone's hypeman: yours, the fashion mavens', the ten year olds who can't follow the theme—literally everyone.

He actually gets better so quickly by observing the outfits of those who win a lot. Like dude is analyzing a whole ass Roblox game. Not that it's intentional—more like it's in his nature.

He falls deep into the DTI rabbit hole. You know because he eagerly waits for updates and hunts for codes on the internet.

"Heyyyy, guess who learned a new code hm?"

His face lights up when you ask him to play... as if he doesn't ask you to play every chance he gets already...

DTI actually becomes his door leading to his descent into the world of Roblox. Seriously, he starts playing more Roblox because you started him with DTI. He also starts asking the other Furin guys to play too.

"Guys, let's do an obby next." / "A what?" / "An obby." / "Again, A WHAT?"

Sugishita Kyotaro

"... I swear I can do better than this..."

This man... this man was even harder to convince compared to Sakura. In fact, you almost gave up. Soooo... you convinced Ume instead (which was easier) and in turn, that forced Sugishita to try it out.

Didn't even ask how it works. He's just reading the text that pops up and goes with the flow.

I'm sorry but... he has the blandest style out of everyone in the main Furin group. Like, he doesn't even try to win AT ALL. But, y'know, A for effort!

"Oh... I have to vote for them?" / "Well, yeah... actually no, just give me 5 stars, okay?"

He plays DTI for a grand total of 3 times, all of which were because Ume asked him to play with the rest of the guys.

He's not much of a gamer to begin with... really, he'd much rather watch you play DTI and see your dramatic reactions to whatever's happening.

Umemiya Hajime

"HAHAHA What's with these silly poses?"

It's like a switch flips in him when he boots up the game and the DTI background song starts playing. He looks waaaaay too happy playing it.

He only started playing because all the hype surrounding it. Ume just wants to be part of the conversation and that's why he tried it out.

Talks way too much in the chat. Usually people just use it to provide more context for their outfits, but Ume actually makes conversation with players there. It's pretty funny to see.

"Look. So many people added me." / "Huh... well ain't that a surprise..."

He almost threw the Ipad out of excitement when he saw that the theme was gardening. He said he had to win or he'd literally die.

A pose 28 spammer, obviously.

"Aw, my game started lagging." / "It's 'cuz you keep spamming poses too fast." / "Dang it."

Hiragi Toma

"I'm not that good at it... okay, maybe just a bit."

He's an old man so bear with him when he tells you that he doesn't even know what a 'Roblox' is. He thought it was a vape flavor by the way.

"So... I have to dress-up and make people vote highly for me?" / "Yeah, it's called Dress to Impress for a reason." / "Oh, yeah. Fair."

He barely tries, but somehow he's kinda good at it? He's not insanely amazing at putting together outfits... but for a guy who's not trying that hard—he's doing pretty well for himself.

But he'll be too embarrassed to admit it. Hiragi would click his tongue and tell you to knock it off once you start complimenting his DTI skills.

He's a bit lost with the Gen Z/Gen Alpha terms, but he's trying to learn—slowly but surely like a little baby lamb learning how to walk.

Will rate you 5 stars no matter what. Everyone else is getting 1 star. Hiragi doesn't care.

"I didn't know you could hit poses here?" / "Yeah, look at this one." / "What the fuck kinda pose is that? Who's doing that on the runway? Bffr." / "Did you just—" / "Told you I'm learning things."

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker headcanons #sakura x reader #suo x reader #nirei x reader #sugishita x reader #umemiya x reader #hiragi x reader #sakura haruka #suo hayato #umemiya hajime #wind breaker week #fish does winbre week

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cosmerelists · 5 months

Text

Cosmere Characters React to Finding Fanfic/Fanart of Themselves: A Collab with Cosmereplay

As requested by anon :)

I asked @cosmereplay to collab with me on this anon's request, and happily, she agreed! Basically, I've written the fanart parts of this, and Cosmereplay has taken care of the fanfic parts since I, ah, don't read fanfic and wouldn't know the really good jokes.

1. Shallan, Adolin, & Kaladin Read Fanfic

Shallan (reading tags): Hmmm...ace Kaladin, aromantic Kaladin, bisexual Kaladin, bottom Kaladin (I'll have to look into that one later...), demisexual Kaladin, demiromantic Kaladin, dom Kaladin... Adolin: What are the relationship tags like? Shallan: Let's see... blushes thoroughly OH LOOK KALADIN/SLEEP! THAT'S SO SWEET! Oooh...Kaladin/Happiness! Kaladin: Everybody's a critic. Adolin: They just want you to be happy, Kal! Kaladin: I-I'm fine most of the time!

2. Elend & Vin Look at Fanart

Elend: Wow! Stunning! Magnificent! Vin (peering over his shoulder): Uh, Elend, I think you're supposed to be looking at art of yourself. Those are all pictures of me. Elend: Can you blame me?? I mean look at you here! Vin: I suppose I look...somewhat cool there. Elend: Ascendent, I'd say!

3. Ellista and Pai Read "Covenant" by liesmyth

Ardent Ellista: Oh you HAVE to read this one, it's the most popular Cosmere fic by kudos! Kaladin Stormblessed and Highprince Adolin are soulmates, it's so sad yet hopeful! Ardent Pai: I bet it doesn't even mention their class differences. Ardent Ellista: No it totally does! And it really gets in the way of them kissing!! Ardent Pai: Well maybe I'll take a look then.

4. The Kholin Family Look at Fanart: Part 1 (Dalinar & Navani)

Jasnah (slamming a large tome onto the table): All right, everyone. I've finished my extensive research into the fanart of our family. Jasnah: Dalinar, according to my findings, people on the internet find you (a) extremely sexy and (b) wish you to be shirtless on the beach. Jasnah: There is also extensive interest in you being strong but vulnerable in the face of Odium, which I believe goes back to point (a), your assumed sexiness. Dalinar: ... Dalinar: I see. Jasnah: Navani, the residents of the internet desperately wish to see you explore women as romantic/sexual options. Navani: ...In general, or specific women? Jasnah: Mostly Ialai and Raboniel, from what I have seen. You can see here, and here. Navani: Sure, makes sense. Dalinar: (Does it??)

5. Sigzil & Lopen Read Fanfic

Sigzil: Bridge Fourgy? Ohhh... oh no... Lopen: Well now you GOTTA read it, gancho! Sigzil: I will burn it is what I will do.

6. Hoid & Design Look at Fanart

Hoid: (huffing and harumphing) Design: Well, I think the art is nice! Hoid: (harumphing and huffing) Design: The colors are spot-on, there's some symmetry... Hoid: (muttering) I've been involved in practically every Cosmere-significant event...I tell stories with colors and magic imagery...I beat up Kelsier that one time... Hoid: But nooooo they only want to draw me in the Mare shirt with mismatching socks and sandals!!! AND TINY RED SHORTS Design: Wow, look at my boobs in this one! They're so round and shiny! Hoid: ...I feel like you are not sympathizing with me here.

7. Rushu & Jasnah read "The Princess and the Captain" by ailvara

Rushu: Your Majesty I looked into the most popular fanfic by hits and discovered it's an ongoing slowburn romance between you and, uh... well... Jasnah: Out with it, Rushu. Rushu: You and Kaladin Stormblessed. Jasnah: Me? And Kaladin?? But he's half my age! And we've done nothing but argue! Rushu (blushing): I think that's part of the appeal, Your Majesty. Jasnah: Give me that. (reading) Well if he said THAT then maybe I wouldn't have... hm... Rushu, cancel my appointments for the next hour, I need to finish this. Rushu: Of course, Your Majesty! (sotto voice) Thank goodness she still doesn't know about the Hoid foot fics...

8. The Kholin Family: Part 2 (Adolin & Renarin)

Jasnah (continuing to leaf through her large book of findings): Adolin, according to my research, the internet thinks that you are a handsome, sweet man who wishes to be with his friends. For example, here. Jasnah: It is mostly you, Shallan, and Kaladin, however you want to read that. Adolin: As...reality? Jasnah: Renarin, if you are not suffering emotionally alongside a stained glass motif, or suffering emotionally as a child alongside Dalinar, then you are with Rlain. Renarin: With him as in...? Jasnah: Yes. Renarin: ... Renarin: I thought we were being fairly subtle! Jasnah: You were not.

9. Moash & Leshwi Read Fanfic

Moash: What are the fics about me like? Leshwi: Well, you either die a violent, horrible death or you make tender love to... Leshwi: ... Leshwi: ...Kaladin Stormblessed? You know him? Moash: Ok so here's the thing

10. Moash & Kaladin Look at Fanart

Moash: Okay...I should definitely get my ears pierced, right? Moash: I mean...look at me. Look at me, Kal! Hot, right? Moash: ...Kal? Kaladin: ... Kaladin: [silently pushing this art toward Moash] Kaladin: There are a lot like this. Moash: What, of you standing? Kaladin: Smiling. Kaladin: People want me to smile, I guess. Moash: ... Moash: Well, I bet you'd smile more if I was always looking hot in earrings, huh? Kaladin: Heh, yeah, probably.

#among many other things I love that all of cosmereplay's entries have the fanfic being read by women to the men #cosmere #cosmerelists #Kaladin #Adolin #Shallan #Hoid #Design #Jasnah #Dalinar #Navani #Renarin #Moash #Rushu #Sigzil #Lopen #Ellista #Pai

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dancingtotuyo · 5 months

Text

Part III

High Infidelity | Joel Miller X Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Summary: You and Joel hull the kids to the beach for a much needed vacation. Things begin to change.

Tags: Tommy x Reader, Joel x Reader, Tommy's Wife Reader, infidelity, emotional affair, slow burn (as much as you can get for 5 chapters), Tommy goes to jail, Reader has had a child

Warnings: Tommy being a shitty husband & father, Father's day celebration, cursing, consumption of alcohol, emotional affair/cheating, some physical boundaries crossed. Pining

Notes: Y'all know the drill by now, thanks to my loves @janaispunk for beta reading and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for beta reading and providing me with some authentic prison information and inspiration, and @saradika-graphics for the dividers!

Words: 5273

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Daily Clicks for Palestine & Other resources

It’s June before you’re able to escape to the shore. You make it in just over 4 hours. It’s good timing considering the multiple bathroom stops you had to make. It’s a small house that probably hasn’t been renovated since Joel was there as a kid. It sits two blocks off the shore on stilts that make you feel secluded from the people that pass on the quiet street below, and when you stand on the porch, the salty sea breeze caresses your body as you let your eyes close. You can just make out the crash of ocean waves. You can feel the breeze carrying all your cares away.

Nate and Sarah excitedly explore the inside of the house. Their muted enthusiasm floating through the walls makes you smile. You’re thankful for this, thankful for Joel.

The sliding door opens and then shuts. You don’t move. It’s Joel. You know the sound of his footsteps, the way he moves through the world by heart. He settles against the railing, arm pressed against yours.

A smile spreads across your lips as your eyes open, landing on his. He smiles back. “Hard to enjoy the view with your eyes closed, Darlin.” His deep baritone rumbles smoothly. You see it in him too, the way the breeze carries away the wear and worry of the world.

“It’s peaceful out here.”

He nods. “Yeah, it is.”

“We should probably get back in there before the kids break something.”

Joel nudges you with his shoulder. “Don’t jinx us like that.”

“Our two? Unsupervised? That’s asking for it.”

“Our two?” A playful glint glimmers in Joel’s deep brown eyes. “My daughter is perfectly well behaved. It’s your little menace that’s the bad influence.”

“Oh my four year old is the bad influence?” You cross your arms, doing your best to keep the smile at bay.

“For sure- got his dad’s streak for mischief. My Sarah is a perfect angel.” He sticks his tongue out at you.

You roll your eyes, slapping his shoulder, but you don’t have a good response. He’s not wrong. Nathaniel knows how to get into places he shouldn’t. “I seem to recall an incident involving a ten pound bag of flour that says differently.”

Joel chuckles at the memory. Nathaniel was barely a week old when Sarah shrieked in the kitchen only for you to find her and the kitchen dusted in white powder. You had cried upon seeing it, postpartum hormones raging. Joel had cleaned your entire kitchen top to bottom.

“She felt so bad for making you cry,” Joel laughs.

“I think I scared her.”

The door opens again. Sarah and Nathaniel break out, rushing for your legs and begging to go to the beach.

You spend the next several days lazing on the sand, reading more than you have in years as you soak in the sun. The kids run around chasing seagulls and other creatures. Joel helps them catch waves on boogie boards. You both take them further out to ride the waves. Sarah’s arms clutch around Joel’s neck, and Nathaniel does the same to you. They build sandcastles and Joel digs holes big enough to bury them both.

At night, the kids are out by 8 o’clock if not earlier allowing you and Joel to sit out on the deck and drink. Your skin is warm from the constant sun. Joel’s cheeks are tinged pink on your third evening, his chest rosier. The salty air works at his hair, bringing out curls. You like this version of him a lot. You like this version of yourself too.

Your feet sit in his lap as he massages your legs and feet, calves worn out from lugging your belongings across the sand and back. He stares up at the sky, twilight bringing the first few stars with it. You sip your homemade margarita, Joel’s specialty, from a red solo cup.

“I shoulda brought my guitar. Only thing that could make this moment better,” he says.

You hum softly, shifting in your chair. “Wouldn’t be able to massage my feet if you had your guitar.”

He laughs, so easy, so relaxed. You can’t remember the last time things felt this good. “Don’t worry, you’d still get your massage.”

“Why didn’t you bring it?” You cock your head to the side.

“Wouldn’t fit in the car, miss over packer.”

You roll your eyes softly kicking at him. “We’ve used everything I packed. Speaking of which, what do you want for breakfast tomorrow?” You take another sip of your drink. Joel finds a knot in your calf, working it out as you let out a slight hiss.

Joel shrugs, carefully watching your reactions careful to inflict as little pain as possible. “Ask the kids.”

“It’s Father’s Day.”

“Kids like pancakes.” Joel sips from his own drink before returning to the knot.

“But you don’t.”

“Doesn’t matter what I like, Darlin.”

“Well, it does tomorrow.” You cross your arms.

Joel sighs rolling his eyes.

You narrow yours. “Don’t make me force it out of you. You know I will.”

He considers it a minute before deciding it’s a losing battle. “Those omelets you made for my birthday. I really liked those.”

You smile. “I can manage that.”

You sit in bed with Nathaniel the next morning to call Tommy. As early as possible is preferred, not that Tommy will care. He’s been blowing you off more, hardly talking when you call or visit, seemingly uninterested when you talk about Nate. It’s exhausting. You dread it, but you continue anyway.

It takes a while before Tommy’s voice comes through the speaker. You force an exaggerated smile to your face for Nathaniel’s sake. Daddy is an abstract being to him. “Hey babe. Happy Father’s Day!”

“Oh… that’s today?”

You push back the annoyance rising inside you. “Nate wants to say hello.” You hold the phone up to your four-year-old’s ear.

“Hello?” he says.

You can barely make Tommy’s pathetic response. He won’t even pretend for Nathaniel and that’s the unbearable part of all this.

“Happy Day!” Nathaniel says, taking hold of the receiver before he dives into updating his stranger of a father all about their beach vacation. Tommy stays quiet the whole time.

Rage begins to boil just under the surface. Before it can bubble over, Nathaniel says goodbye, shoving the phone into your chest and dashing out of the room the moment he hears Sarah moving around in the living room.

“Tommy?”

“Look, I need to go.”

You're not sure what’s worse. The hurt or the anger inside you. “I love you.”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you on Friday.”

“Tommy.” It sounds like a scold. That’s exactly what it is.

“I don’t have time for this.”

“Time for your wife and son?”

“You’re the one who called me.”

“Are you actually going to call on Friday? Or am I gonna end up sitting next to the phone all evening?”

You get silence.

“Tommy?”

“I’ll call.” And then the line goes dead.

You want to scream or yell or cry or all three. You settle for throwing a pillow across the room and giving yourself 5 minutes to cry. There may only be three months of this left, but you’re not sure you’ll actually be talking to your husband at the end of it, not that the two of you do any talking now.

Wiping your eyes, you make your way to the kitchen to start on Joel’s promised breakfast. Nathaniel and Sarah sit at the table comparing sea shells. “Aunt Bonnie?”

“Yes baby doll?” You smile, kissing her head.

“Which one would Daddy like on his card?” She points to a collection of about 5 shells.

“Hmmm,” you crouch down to her level, looking them over. “I think he would like any of them, but this one looks like him.” You point to a blue-grey shell.

She picks it up, inspecting it carefully. “It does look kinda grumpy like him.”

You laugh. That isn’t what you meant, but she wasn’t wrong. “I’m making omelets. What do y’all want in yours?”

The kids are digging into their breakfast when Joel walks out of his room, arms stretching above his head to reveal a little sliver of his tummy. Sarah quickly shoves her Father’s Day project under some magazines.

“Look who decided to wake up.” You smile over your shoulder. “Morning sleepy head.”

“One day of the year I get to sleep in.” He mumbles, shooting a teasing glare your way. He clocks your red eyes before you can turn away.

“Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!” Sarah yells, standing on her chair to give Joel a hug. He chuckles, pulling her into his arms, spinning around, and setting her back on the chair with ease. She laughs.

“Thank you, baby girl.”

“Happy Day!” Nathaniel grins at his uncle.

“Father’s Day.” Sarah corrects. Nathaniel simply shrugs like he’d said the correct thing to begin with.

Joel chuckles, kissing his nephew’s cheek. “Thanks, Bud.”

You track his footsteps over to your side of the kitchen as you invest your full attention on the omelet in front of you. You know he caught your tear-stained eyes. “Fresh coffee in the pot,” You say, keeping your voice even.

You feel his full body heat behind you, a hand falls to your waist as he reaches into the cabinet next to the stove for a coffee mug. Something settles in your stomach.

“What did my idiot brother do now?” He keeps his voice low so the kids don’t overhear.

You shake your head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Darlin.”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Your head snaps toward him. He’s right there, face so close to yours. Always nearby.

“You sure?”

You bristle a little bit. He drops his hand but stays in your space. “Not right now. We’re celebrating you this morning.” He smiles softly at you. “And I don’t want to burn your omelet, so scram.” You cock your head to the side.

He waits a second, searching for any signs he’s missing something. When he’s sure he isn’t, he gives you a soft smile and a tender kiss on the forehead, and steps over to the coffee pot, leaving you feeling warm and hazy.

The kids help clean up after breakfast. Sarah stands on a bench at the sink to wash dishes and Nathaniel waits patiently with a dish towel to dry the lighter dishes. You and Joel sit at the table, second and third cups of coffee in hand as you oversee their efforts.

“I think I’m going to enjoy this next phase of parenting,” Joel says with a long, content sigh.

You feel the easiness thrumming in your veins. Why couldn’t life always be this way? “Yeah if my anxiety about broken dishes or wet feet doesn’t get the better of me first.”

He chuckles softly, sipping from his mug as an easy silence falls between you. You watch the kids and Joel watches you. Sun pours through the many windows of the beach house. You’re not ready to leave tomorrow.

“You wanna talk about it now?”

You sigh. “Not really. We’re supposed to be celebrating you today.”

“I’ll be able to enjoy myself more if I know what’s going on in your head.”

You keep your gaze focused on the kids, rolling the words around in your head. You feel emotionally exhausted by it all and you’re not even through the morning hours yet.

“Darlin,” Joel kicks at your foot, smile on his face. “C’mon. We can talk about it.”

You set your mug down, turning toward him. “He’s just blowing us off again. I spent more time waiting for him to come to the phone than I did talking to him. He hardly interacted with Nate this morning.” You roll your eyes in an attempt to push away the tears pressing to escape.

Joel reaches across the table, taking your hand. He runs his thumb over your knuckles. It grazes past your wedding band, almost taunting you now.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t fair to either of you,” Joel says.

“You’d think I’d stop letting it affect me at some point.”

Joel bites his lip, eyes pinned to your ring finger. “He’s your husband. Needs to start acting like it,” Joel says gruffly. You catch the spark of something in his deep brown eyes, but you don’t have time to place it.

“We’re done!” Sarah exclaims with a proud smile, her shirt soaked through.

You pull your hand from Joel’s, wrapping it around your warm mug as you laugh. “Thank you for your help. Both of you.” Nathaniel puts the dish towel carefully over the oven handle, shooting you the biggest grin.

“Can we do presents now?” Sarah asks, curls bouncing with her.

“Presents?” Joel says. “Y’all didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Don’t be silly, Daddy.” Sarah says, looking to you for permission.

“I think now is a great time for gifts.”

Both kids run toward their shared room. They had been very excited at the promise of bunk beds. You ease out of your chair. “Not you too.” Joel shakes his head.

You shoot him a wink. “Suck it, Miller.”

Flashes of your delayed Mother’s Day celebration jump between you. Joel had switched up the weekends and hadn’t been prepared, but had made up for it the following weekend. You hadn’t heard from Tommy. He never even mentioned it.

You grab the small box from your suitcase, a small white bow tied around it. The four of you settle in the living room. You sit tucked into one end of the sofa while Joel sits at the other end, a bouncing kid on either side of him.

“Me first!” Sarah says, handing her card and hand-wrapped gift to her father.

Joel takes care, slowly reading the card out loud. His gift consists of a souvenir snow globe and a puca shell necklace. She picked them out with great care at the beach shop the two of you stopped in yesterday. He oos and awes over both.

“You should put on the necklace!” Sarah says, standing up on the cushions of the couch.

“Maybe I want to admire it more,” Joel says.

You bite back a smile. He’s already lost this battle and you both know it.

“Don’t be silly, Daddy.” She grabs it from his hand, determination, and concentration painted on her face as she wraps it around his neck.

“Yeah, don’t be silly, Daddy.” You tease, shooting him a wink. He pokes his tongue out at you as Sarah almost chokes him in the process of securing the necklace.

“Not so tight, baby girl.”

“Oops,” she giggles. “All done.”

She steps back to admire her handiwork, looking quite pleased. “What do you think, Aunt Bonnie?”

“Beautiful,” You smile, laughter evident in your tone of voice. “You look ready to hit the beach.”

“My turn!” Nathaniel announces, handing Joel a hand-drawn picture depicting their day at the beach yesterday. He goes into great detail describing everything he drew. Joel’s hand rests on Nate’s shoulder blades, head tucked toward him as he takes in everything the boy says with practiced patience and intentionality.

It strikes something in your heart, a deep longing. That should be Tommy. But it also sends a deep sense of gratitude toward your brother-in-law for picking up where his brother has failed. You swallow back the tears, losing track of how much you’ve had to do that today.

“Thank you, Bud. I love it.” Joel kisses Nathaniel's head.

“You’re welcome, Daddy.”

Joel freezes. Ice rushes through your bloodstream. Your eyes meet Joel’s. What do you say to that? Neither of you knows the answer.

“He’s not your daddy, Nate,” Sarah says, pulling out her older sister voice. “He’s your uncle.”

“Oh yeah,” Nathaniel shrugs, unbothered by his mishap as he swings his legs back and forth, hitting the couch with his heels as he does.

“Aunt Bonnie, do you have the other gift?” Sarah asks, determined to keep the morning on schedule.

“Yeah, right here.” You fumble around, finding the box tucked between yourself and the couch. Joel keeps his eyes on you trying to figure out what’s running through your mind, but he can’t.

Sarah plucks the box from your hands before presenting it to her father. “This is from all three of us.”

She looks very proud of herself. Joel takes it with a smile, eyes flickering back to you briefly. You give him an encouraging nod.

He loosens the bow, pulling off the top. The kids lean over either side of his body, excited for the reveal even though they’ve both seen it. He pulls it out, inspecting it carefully. A black watch face with silver accents and an olive green watch band. His eyes dart to yours. You smile at him.

“You’ve been talking about it for years.” You smirk, sipping your coffee. “You were never gonna do it yourself.”

“It’s exactly what I wanted.” He shakes his head, a stunned chuckle shaking his chest. “How’d you know?”

“Found an old picture Tommy had stored away last fall.”

“Look at the back.” Sarah bounces with excitement.

Joel flips it over. His brows knit together as he catches the inscription. Happy Father’s Day. We love you. Sarah and Nathaniel. 1997.

“Do you like it?” Sarah looks up at him with sparkling excitement.

“I love it.” He kisses her cheek, thanking both the children. He wraps it around his wrist, buckling it into place.

“Now you won’t be late anymore,” Sarah says, making you and Joel laugh.

“We can only hope,” you say.

Joel looks up at you with one of the most heartfelt smiles you’ve ever seen. His lips move silently. Thank you.

You nod in response.

You spend the final day of your vacation on the beach until the sun has disappeared. Joel ends up running back to the house to grab the car so your two very tired children don’t melt down. You hurry through bath time, trying to get all the sand from hair and bodies. You’re sure you’ll be finding sand all over your and Joel’s homes for months.

You provide goodnight hugs and kisses, but Joel takes bedtime duties. You’re cleaning up the kitchen, and packing up pantry items when the first lines of You Are My Sunshine drift out of the kid’s bedroom in Joel’s soft melodies. The kids' sleepy voices talk him into another lullaby and then another before their eyelids slip closed and their breathing evens out.

The door clicks softly and you’ve already pulled the margarita pitcher and new solo cups. “See they talked you into the whole set list tonight.” You smile, filling the cups with the last of the margaritas.

“It’s the last night of vacation.” Joel chuckles. He grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and the half-eaten bag of pretzels. “They asked so nicely.”

“And you’re a big softy.”

You grab both cups, following Joel out to your spot on the deck. It’s cooler tonight, the breeze a bit stronger. You sit across from each other, feet propped in the seat of the other’s chair with the blanket spread across your legs. Joel sets the pretzels right at your knees.

“Did you enjoy your day?” You ask, sipping on the day-old margarita. It goes down easier tonight, and your cup is filled to the brim.

“It was a good day.” Joel smiles at you, easy and relaxed. The world and your issues feel so far away here despite the day’s earlier events. “Probably the best Father’s Day yet.”

“Oh you mean it beats the raw banana bread from last year?” You’re laughing before the sentence fully leaves your mouth. Joel’s head falls back, chest vibrating with laughter.

His hair curls more from the salty air and fits him, tanned skin, curly hair, Puca shell necklace and all. You wonder if you look like a similar version of yourself, the relaxed beach version.

“Sarah trying to choke me with the necklace beats whatever it was you tried to bake last year.”

You stick out your tongue. The pretzel bag rustles as he grabs a handful. You take another drink from your cup. Joel Miller makes a mean margarita.

“What about you? Did you have a good day then?”

You take an extra second to think about it before nodding. “Yeah. I can’t complain when it comes to well-behaved kids and the beach.”

“Nathaniel calling me dad didn’t throw you off, I hope.”

Your shoulders tense a little bit. “I think I’m the one who should be asking that.”

“Kinda surprised it hasn’t happened sooner if I’m being honest.” Joel’s pointer finger slides along the lip of his cup before he brings it to his lips.

You bite your lips, staring at the house across the street. “Same.”

“Sorry, that was kinda a mood killer.” Joel’s hand rests on your calf.

“It’s fine. You’re more of a father to him than his real dad.” You try to wave it off, but the facts are reeling in your mind like a movie. “Fuck, you were in the delivery room, and coached his T-ball team, and you’ve tucked him into bed more times than Tommy ever has.” You swipe away the moisture that’s gathered in your eyes, chasing them with another gulp of your drink.

“Hey… maybe you should slow down there.” Joel leans forward, his feet dropping from your chair as he grabs the solo cup from you and the pretzels tumble to the deck.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” You reach for the cup, but Joel keeps it out of reach, setting it on the ground next to his.

“I do.” He’s firm with you, grabbing your hands and tucking them between his. You can’t meet his eyes, embarrassment flooding your body. “What's going on in your mind right now?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Darlin,” He tugs gently on your arms. Your feet greet the warm deck as you're forced to sit up straighter. The side of your knee bumps against his. “You can talk to me.”

“I just want to enjoy our last night, Joel.”

“Can’t do that if I’m worried about you.” He tips your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes.

The street lights flicker off his warm eyes. You feel his touch linger under your chin. Extra warmth gathers in each place he touches. The words bubbling up in you, helpless to stop the thoughts circling in your head for months.

“I’m not sure my marriage is salvageable. I don’t know if I’ll recognize my husband when he gets out. I don’t think he’s the same person-“ You can’t finish through the choked-out sobs.

Joel lets out a soft sigh and before you know it, he’s tugging your pliant body into his lap, rubbing your back. He kisses your head. Your head finds the crook of his neck, fingers digging into the back of it. He’s the steady rock he’s always been. It does little to soothe your racing mind.

You have so many questions and no answers. Tommy’s release from prison always felt like a distant finish line. Now, three months away, it feels like just the start.

“No matter what, I’ve got you,” Joel says, hand cupping your cheek. “I’m here for you.”

How much longer can you continue to find solace in your brother-in-law's arms? How much longer will Joel play the part Tommy is supposed to? Supporter, parent, partner…

You pull back, fingers still wrapped around his neck. The metal of your wedding ring presses against his skin, but he’s used to feeling it. He doesn’t even think about it anymore. Your forehead nearly touches his. The pools of his deep eyes are endless. They’re different than Tommy’s. You don’t mean to compare, but you like it, soft and inviting after sleeping on rocks for years. You think you catch the hints of desire in them. You’ve forgotten what it feels like to be desired.

There’s a fight, a push and pull between you. Who’s going to do it. His hot breath fans across your lips. Who’s going to be the one to finally cross the line you’ve been toeing for so long and drag the other one into exile with them? It’s a lush oasis in the middle of the desert you’ve been traveling. One move and you can dip your toe in.

Joel gives in first, leaning in. Your eyes flutter shut with anticipation, another touch of his breath. His nose nudges against yours. You catch a whiff of the salt on his skin, and then, nothing, a mirage all in your head leaving you stranded in the desert.

Confusion knits your brow before your eyes are open. Joel is still close, closer than a man that’s not your husband should be, but he feels further away than ever.

His thumb nudges your bottom lip. He gives a weak smile in an attempt to cover his true emotions. “We can’t…”

He’s right. You hate yourself for getting so carried away. “I know.”

Your hand drops from his neck. You might be sitting on his lap but he’s never felt farther from you.

“You should go to bed.”

You think to fight him on it, but you decide not to. You stand up. Joel doesn’t move, thumb playing with the lip of his solo cup. He can’t meet your eyes and it feels like you might be losing him too.

Before you can think better of it, you lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. Your fingers rake through his hair twice over. His eyes close and he lilts into you just the slightest.

“Thank you, Joel. For everything.”

His Adam’s Apple bobs as you pull away. He keeps his eyes pinned ahead, fingers curling around the red plastic. He’s barely holding on to control.

“Good night,” he says, voice gruff, never looking away from his fixed point.

“Goodnight.”

Joel finishes off yours and his margarita before he falls into bed. It’s just enough to keep him buzzed as he runs toward rest. He can’t get the feel of you out of his mind, how close he was to ripping apart his whole family.

He’s in and out of sleep when the door pops open. He assumes it’s Sarah. She probably had a bad dream, and tosses the corner of the comforter back. Except, the full size mattress dips lower than it should. He reaches out but instead of Sarah’s small frame, he gets a handful of your waist as the smell of you fills his nostrils. In the haze of sleep, Joel opens his eyes just enough to find you facing away from him.

The bed isn’t big enough for his legs not to tangle with yours, not if he wants restful sleep. Your body doesn’t tense under his touch. You don’t say anything. Neither does he, but your body melts into him until he finds his arm fully around your middle, back flush against his front.

Joel Miller considers himself a good man, but a good man doesn’t yearn for his brother’s wife. A good man doesn’t give into the temptation to have her so close, to be with her so intimately. Tonight, Joel Miller doesn’t worry about being a good man. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but tonight, Joel Miller falls asleep with you in his arms and bed. Tonight, Joel Miller’s deepest desires come true. Just for tonight, he gets to pretend you’re his.

You wake up to an empty bed like you have since Tommy went to prison, but something feels off about it. A familiar smell lingers under your nose, and unfamiliar warmth fills you even though the sheets are cold.

You let out a soft groan, eyes fluttering open. You stare up at the ceiling, convinced once again that something feels off. You turn to look at the clock on the bed stand but there’s not one there. The walls are a different color and you shoot up as it all comes flooding back.

You almost kissed Joel last night. The way you tossed and turned before giving into temptation and crawling in beside him. He hadn’t fought you, hadn’t said a word but pulled you flush against him in the bed that was just a bit too small. You’d slept like a baby for the first time in years.

Joel sits at the table with the kids as they shovel the last of the extra sugary cereal into their mouths. A special vacation treat. You expect Joel to ignore you or at least be standoffish, but he hands you a cup of steaming coffee with the same smile he always does, crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of his eyes as if nothing happened.

You offer a smile in response. A silent agreement to never speak on it again.

You’ve been home for a week when it comes, a plain white envelope stuffed with something soft labeled with a return address you’re all too familiar with written in Tommy’s chicken scratch handwriting.

You wait until Nathaniel is down for the night, but it throws you the whole evening. Letters from Tommy are more rare than phone calls. You’ve received one, maybe two since he was incarcerated. Considering he’d promised to call on after Father’s day and hadn’t, the mysterious letter makes you feel unsettled. What shoes are left to drop?

You run the envelope through your hands, thumb picking at the corner of the seal, uncommitted to actually tearing it open. You’re worried whatever lies within will only hurt you more. You can’t sustain more hurt.

Finally, you dig into the corner, tearing it open. Your eyebrows knit together. White fabric is neatly folded and tucked within. You pull it out, revealing a square of white fabric, like a bandana unfurls and a note falls to the floor. As you take in the black and white drawing on the fabric, you gasp. It’s a drawing of the picture you keep on your nightstand. The moment Tommy met Nathaniel for the first time. Tommy’s arm is wrapped around you, Nathaniel in his arms with the biggest grin on his face. It’s a moment that’s seared into your memory. Seeing it portrayed like this brings tears to your eyes, the emotions from that day and the last 696 flooding your body.

Before the tear completely blur your vision, you pick up the note. You can barely make out Tommy’s handwriting when your eyes are clear, but you manage.

Baby,

You and I both know I didn’t draw this. My cellmate did based on the photo. You probably know that. They call them paños. I’ve seen a lot of the ones guys in here have sent to their girls. They’re pretty cool.

I’m sorry. I wish I could be better for you and Nathaniel. I love you, Bonnie.

Tommy.

Tears stream down your face. Just like that your heart seems to forget the heartache of the last couple years. This proves that your Tommy is still inside him somewhere, fighting to come back to you. You’ll do anything to have your Tommy back.

It doesn’t matter if you're grasping at threads. Your heart overpowers your mind. You’re determined that you can pull him back by those threads, maybe not now, but once he’s out. Once he’s out, you can bring him back. You’re his Bonnie. He’s your Clyde. You’re tied together. Your heart beats for him, but you don’t catch a piece of your heart breaking off from the rest. That part can't beat for Tommy. It’s attached to someone else.

Taglist: @pamasaur @alltheotps @rizzraa @moel-jiller @misstokyo7love @justagalwhowrites @pedritosgfreal @mellymbee @sarahhxx03 @lizzie-cakes @sixhours @duckybird101 @anoverwhelmingdin @nervoushottee @caitlynsixxx @kaykay0315 @stevie75 @millercontracting @cals-laundry @jessthebaker @noisynightmarepoetry @vickie5446 @mewantpeepaw

#joel miller #the last of us #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #tommy miller x reader #pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #high infidelity (joel miller)#ppcu fanfiction #pedro stories #pedrostories

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wannabehockeygf · 3 months

Text

No Hard Feelings - Beckett Sennecke

I did it again guys sorry!!! Word Count: 6.6k Pairing: Beckett Sennecke x fem! reader Tags: Fluff, slight? age gap (8 years), inexperienced cute guy!, he falls first Warnings: suggested smut, slight? age gap (as stated above), alcohol Notes: This is loosely based on one of my favourite movies, No Hard Feelings (I love you JLaw), so if you've seen it that's what I was going for. (***) is a general separator/time skip. Yes, I know people under the age of 21 get kicked out of casinos (I had that happen to me in Vegas at the age of 17) but for the sake of fiction! This is not proof read! And sorry if it gets repetitive.

we <3 u baffled duckling! *** This morning

THE BOY YOU WERE KISSING LAST NIGHT WAS BAD.

Not even ‘bad’ as in, damn he was hot, ‘bad’ as in, he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.

You probably should’ve expected that. A couple of days in Vegas is the dream for anyone over the age of twenty-one, but since you couldn’t afford it three years ago, you were doing it now. Now and alone, since your friends couldn’t book enough time off work to make it out of LA on time.

Making friends isn’t a hard thing for you to do, it wasn’t ever. You always saw the world through rose-colored glasses – energetic, funny, always the life of the party – an optimist, as one would call it. So, going alone wasn’t as scary for you as it would be for others.

You celebrated your birthday at home early, with your friends and family that could make it, before you took a six p.m. flight to Las Vegas. You went to your hotel to simply drop off your bag and put on a party dress before making a beeline for the first bar on the strip.

…That was all you could remember. Now, you were lying on top of the blankets in your own hotel room, thankfully, with your wallet and phone intact. Your head was pounding, your surroundings swirling into a mess of colors as a ringing in your ear wouldn’t go away no matter how loudly you groaned.

You’re hungover. Severely, apparently, and there’s nothing you hate more than being hungover. You always swore you turned into a raging bitch, mostly because of the fact that you didn’t let anyone have more than two words with you before getting upset or angry.

You fumble around the nightstand for your phone, trying to focus your bleary vision on the screen. The bright light makes you wince, but you manage to unlock it and check your notifications. A flood of messages from your friends and family, wishing you a happy birthday, and... oh no.

A text from the hotel’s app, which you for some reason had to download to access the Wifi, warned you that there were 5 minutes until the end of the check-out window. Stupidly, you remember you decided to book separate hotels for the two nights you’d stay, to get the full Vegas experience.

Yeah, well, you were regretting that now.

With a groan, you drag yourself out of bed, every movement feeling like it’s amplified by the pounding in your head. You glance at the time on your phone again, hoping maybe, just maybe, you misread it. No such luck. You have five minutes to gather your things and check out before they charge you for another night.

Scrambling around the room, you shove your belongings back into your bag, not caring if anything is folded or in its proper place. You barely have time to splash some water on your face and brush your teeth before you stumble out the door, clutching your phone and wallet like lifelines.

The hallway is dizzying, the carpet’s geometric pattern only adding to your disorientation. You manage to make it to the elevator and hit the lobby button, praying it gets there fast enough. The doors open, and you step out, wobbling slightly but determined to make it to the front desk in time.

The clerk at the desk raises an eyebrow as you approach, probably used to seeing hungover guests but not ones quite as frantic as you. You plaster on your best apologetic smile and hand over your key card, mumbling something about checking out.

“Cutting it a bit close, aren’t we?” the clerk remarks, but there’s a hint of amusement in their voice. They quickly process your checkout, and you breathe a sigh of relief when you see the charges haven’t increased.

With that hurdle out of the way, you step aside and find a couch in the lobby to plop down on. You figure you need a moment to compose yourself before making the trek to the next hotel.

Suddenly, a tall figure strides in front of you, stopping, and you look up to see the face of a man. A very familiar face.

Oh fuck.

He doesn’t smirk or make a cocky remark like you expect, instead opting to awkwardly rub the back of his neck thinking of the words before speaking. “Hey…” He says, quietly, a good escape from how loud everything around you felt.

You blink a few times, trying to clear the fog from your mind as you stare up at the man in front of you. “Hey,” you croak out, your voice raspy from a combination of last night’s drinks and this morning’s hangover.

He’s tall and lanky, with messy dark hair and a slight scruff on his face. He looks sheepish, like he’s just as unsure about this encounter as you are, but along with that, he looks young. Younger than you remember, and far too young for you. You vaguely know why you remember him, but you’d rather not deal with it, especially with the new revelation of his supposed baby face, so you decide to lie.

“Do I... know you?” you ask hesitantly, wincing at how disoriented you sound.

The man blushes furiously, looking around before meeting your gaze again. His eyes are a dark, sad blue, which have a complexity that you couldn’t even begin to try to explain right now. “Um, yeah… we met last night. The casino.” He fumbles with his words, and you can tell he's not used to this kind of confrontation.

You remember, but you really don’t want to deal with this right now. You stand up, grabbing the handle of your carry-on, before looking back at him and oh god, he may look fifteen but he towers over you, which makes your heart skip a beat. You swallow hard, trying to look past him, “No, sorry, I don’t think I remember,” You reply, taking a step forward.

The man suddenly grabs at your sleeve, stopping you from walking away. You turn back around to face him, an annoyed expression on your face. His blush deepens as he realizes what he just did, and lets go of your sleeve, “Sorry, I–” He trails off, trying to find the right words, “Beckett.”

“What?” You shoot back, your head still pounding.

The man swallows hard, shoving his hands in his pockets while trying to avoid your gaze. “My name. You have to remember me, right?” He murmurs, tripping over every single word in that sentence.

You stare at him for a moment, his awkward demeanor clashing with your hangover-induced irritability. “Beckett?” You echo, the name tugging at the edges of your fuzzy memory.

***

Last night

“Beckett.” He says, shuffling slightly in the empty booth he was sitting in near the casino. You, quite buzzed by this point but not completely wasted, approached this man thinking he was cute, and you were determined to flirt your ass off. And what better way to start then to tell him your name first, then ask for his?

You smile, finding his tense posture endearing as you slide into the booth, right beside him. “You’re adorable, Beckett. You here with anyone?”

Beckett's cheeks flush slightly, and he looks down at his drink, which seems to just be a coke, swirling the ice around nervously before replying, "Just… with some friends" he stammers, his eyes darting around as if searching for an escape route.

You lean in closer, the chaos of the casino fading into the background as you focus on Beckett. His nervousness only seems to amplify your playful mood, and you find yourself drawn to unraveling more about him.

"Friends, huh? What brings you to Vegas with them?" you inquire, leaning even closer to him just to tangle your hands in his messy hair.

Beckett squeaks, an unexpected noise from his surprisingly deep voice, along with his cheeks burning at your contact. “We’re here for the– Oh god…” He mumbles, his voice trailing off as your fingers began to weave through his hair, ruffling it further.

Your lips curl into a small smile, enjoying how he seemed to melt like butter in your hands, “Cat got your tongue?” You remarked with a playful chuckle, pausing your movements, “Should I stop?”

“No! Please don’t!” He blurted out with a weird urgency. Realizing what he just did, Beckett’s cheeks turned an even deeper shade of crimson as you teased him combined with his own strange outburst, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the drink in front of him. His hand twitched nervously on the tabletop, clearly unsure of how to handle your playful advances. He quieted down, his voice barely audible over the din of the casino, “I’m just… not used to this.”

You tilt your head slightly, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you continue to run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the way he reacts to your touch. "Not used to what? Pretty girls playing with your hair?" you tease lightly, your voice low enough to keep the conversation intimate amidst the surrounding noise.

Beckett shifts in his seat, although he doesn’t dare move away. "Um, yeah, something like that," he admits shyly, his gaze flickering back to his drink before meeting yours again.

"Well, get used to it," you reply with a grin, deciding to play along with the game of teasing. "You’re very pretty too," Your tone is light, but there's a warmth to it.

Beckett chuckles nervously, clearly flustered but also intrigued by your playful banter. His cheeks remain flushed as he attempts to regain his composure, his gaze alternating between your eyes and his untouched drink. The chaotic atmosphere of the casino seems to fade away as you two engage in this small bubble of conversation, your teasing and his awkwardness creating a peculiar but oddly charming dynamic.

"I... uh, thank you," Beckett stammers, his voice barely above a whisper. His fingers nervously tap against the table, betraying his attempt to appear composed. "You’re very… nice.”

You chuckle softly at his awkward compliment, enjoying the way he squirms under your playful attention. Leaning closer, you tease, “Just nice? Not beautiful or captivating?”

Beckett takes a deep breath through his nose before turning his head slightly to meet your gaze, your body almost completely draped right beside his now. He doesn’t hold eye contact for more than a second, inhaling sharply before looking away again. “No–God, no, you’re gorgeous, I’m just–”

You couldn't help but grin at Beckett's flustered response, finding his nervousness endearing. His attempt to compliment you only made him more charming in your eyes, and god did you want to pounce on him right then and there. "Wow, Beckett," you teased, leaning back slightly but keeping your gaze locked on him. "You really know how to flatter a girl."

Beckett's cheeks flushed deeper, his fingers now nervously playing with the condensation on his drink. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... I mean, I just... You're..." He struggled for words, his blue eyes wide and earnest as he searched for the right thing to say.

You pouted at his stuttering. "Relax, Beckett," you reassured him gently, reaching out to briefly touch his hand, “Take your time.”

Beckett's hand twitched under your touch, his eyes flickering down to where your fingers briefly grazed his before retreating. He swallowed hard, visibly trying to regain his composure as he met your gaze again. "Sorry," Beckett murmured, his voice barely audible over the background noise of the casino. "I… why are you here? In Vegas.”

You lean back slightly, your hand lightly resting on his shoulder now. "Oh, you know, birthday celebration," you answer casually, as if it's the most ordinary thing in the world to strike up a conversation with a stranger in a crowded bar. "Decided to treat myself to a spontaneous Vegas trip."

His eyebrows raise in surprise. "Happy birthday," Beckett says sincerely, his voice softening with a genuine warmth. "That sounds fun… Um, weird question, but how old are you?”

You chuckle at his question, appreciating his attempt to keep the conversation going despite his nerves. "Thanks. And I'm twenty-six today.”

Beckett’s eyes widen, almost to the point where they’re about to pop out of his head, and he tries his best to hide his surprise, although he isn’t doing a very good job at it. Your hand finds it’s way into his hair again, playfully tugging at the strands as you frown at him, “What? You’re not about to call me old, are you?”

Beckett's eyes widened further, caught off guard by your playful tug at his hair and your teasing challenge. He blushed furiously, his nervous laughter mingling with the cacophony of the casino around you.

"N-no! Of course not," Beckett stammered, his hands fidgeting with his drink again. "You... you look great. Really. I just... I didn't expect..." He paused, swallowing hard, “I’m eighteen. Is that… okay?”

"Eighteen?" you echoed with a playful smirk, leaning in closer again. "You're just a baby."

Beckett's cheeks flushed deeper at your teasing, but he managed a nervous laugh. "I-I guess so," he admitted, his fingers tapping nervously on the table. "Sorry, I didn't mean to... I mean, you just seem... more experienced."

You laughed softly, enjoying his flustered attempts to navigate the conversation. "Well, I've had a few more birthdays than you, that's for sure," you replied lightly, your hand still resting on his shoulder. "But age is just a number, right?"

"Yeah, definitely," Beckett agreed quickly, his eyes flickering up to meet yours before darting away again. "I mean, you're... you're really cool, and..." He trailed off, distracted by the newfound feeling of both your hands on him, this time on his chest.

You lean in even closer, your breath ghosting over his ear as you let your hands wander over his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his rapid breathing. "You're cute, Beckett," you whisper, your lips just inches from his ear. "And very sweet."

Beckett swallows hard, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he tries to steady his nerves. "Th-thanks," he stammers, his voice barely audible over the din of the casino. He looks up at you, his blue eyes wide and vulnerable. “I’m… uh, my friends are going to be back soon.”

Your smile widens at Beckett's shy confession, and you decide to push the envelope a little further. "Your friends?" you repeat, leaning in close enough that your breath tickles his ear. "Are they going to rescue you from me, or are you hoping they get lost for a while?"

Beckett's cheeks flush even deeper, and he swallows nervously. "I-I don't know," he mumbles, his voice barely a whisper. "Maybe... maybe a little of both."

You chuckle softly, amused by his honesty. "Well, until they come back, how about we make the most of our time together?" you suggest, your fingers trailing down his arm in a gentle caress.

Beckett's breath hitches at your touch, and he glances around the bar, as if expecting his friends to appear at any moment. "I-I guess we could," he agrees hesitantly, his eyes flickering back to yours. "What do you have in mind?"

You pull back slightly, your gaze still fixed on Beckett's flushed face. “You wanna go up to my room?”

"I-I don't know," he stammers, his voice barely audible over the noise of the casino. "I mean, I... I've never..."

“That’s okay…” You muse, your hand messing with the collar of his white dress shirt, “We don’t have to do anything. Or… I could teach you?”

"Teach me?" Beckett's voice trembles slightly, and his wide eyes reveal a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "Like, what exactly?"

You smile reassuringly, your fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw. "Nothing you're not comfortable with," you assure him softly. "We can just hang out, talk, or… see where things go. No pressure."

He swallows hard, clearly torn between his nerves and his growing curiosity. "Okay," he finally whispers, his voice barely audible.

You take his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Let's go then," you say with a warm smile, standing up and guiding him out of the booth. Beckett follows you, his hand trembling slightly in yours as you lead him through the bustling casino.

The elevator ride up to your room is filled with a tense silence, broken only by the soft hum of the elevator music. You steal glances at Beckett, noticing the way he fidgets nervously with the hem of his shirt.

"Relax," you murmur softly, giving his hand another gentle squeeze. "This is just about having a good time, okay?"

He nods, taking a deep breath and trying to steady his nerves. "Yeah, okay," he murmurs, his voice a little stronger now.

When the elevator doors open, you lead him down the hallway to your room. Once inside, the door clicks shut behind you, and the noise of the casino fades into a distant memory. Beckett looks around, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and nervousness.

"Nice room, I–” Beckett starts, only to get cut off by you literally pouncing on him, grabbing his face and pulling it down towards your lips.

Beckett's eyes widen in shock as your lips press against his, his hands frozen at his sides. For a moment, he remains still, unsure of what to do, but then he slowly starts to respond, his lips moving tentatively against yours. The kiss is awkward, and he uses way too much tongue, but as he relaxes, it becomes more confident, his hands finding their way to your waist.

You pull back slightly, just enough to meet his gaze, and smile at the sight of his flushed cheeks and wide eyes. "See? Not so bad, right?" you whisper, your voice teasing but gentle.

Beckett nods, still looking a little dazed. "Y-yeah," he breathes, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as if to anchor himself. "Not bad at all. But can we–”

Once again, you kiss him before he can respond, tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck. He kisses back, not any better, but he definitely tries. "Beckett," you murmur against his lips, your voice a soft whisper that sends shivers down his spine. "Shut up, please.”

Beckett's lips part slightly in surprise at your bold request, but he quickly recovers, his hands tentatively exploring your waist as he deepens the kiss. You pull away, standing on your tip toes to trail sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, which cause a whimper to escape from him.

You guide him to the bed, pushing him down gently so that he's sitting on the edge. Standing between his legs, you run your hands through his hair again, tilting his head back so you can kiss him deeply. This time, his response is more confident, his hands finding their way to your hips and pulling you closer.

Your fingers work deftly, undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one, exposing his skin inch by inch. He shivers under your touch, his breath coming in short, quick bursts. "Is this okay?" you murmur, your lips ghosting over his jaw.

"Yes," he breathes, his voice barely audible.

You smile, pressing a soft kiss to his neck before continuing your exploration. His shirt falls open, and you take a moment to admire his lean physique, your hands running over his chest and stomach. His skin is warm under your touch, and you feel his muscles tense and relax as he tries to steady his breathing.

You push him gently back onto the bed, climbing on top of him and straddling his hips. His hands find their way to your thighs, his fingers digging into your skin as you lean down to kiss him again, this time your tongues tangling in a heated dance.

Your hands move to his jeans, undoing the button and zipper before slipping your hand inside, feeling the heat of his arousal through the fabric of his boxers. He gasps into your mouth, his hips bucking involuntarily at your touch. "Relax," you murmur against his lips, your voice a soothing whisper. "I've got you."

Your fingers tease the waistband of his boxers, and you feel his hips twitch in anticipation. Leaning down, you press a trail of kisses along his jawline, down his neck, and over his chest, your lips and tongue exploring every inch of his skin. Beckett's hands move to your back, his fingers trembling slightly as they slide under your shirt, seeking out the warmth of your skin.

But, as soon as you tug at his jeans, wanting them completely off, he squeals and pushes you off of him, breathing heavily.

You land beside him, your breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as you try to make sense of his sudden retreat. Beckett sits up, his eyes wide and panicked, his chest rising and falling rapidly. For a moment, neither of you speaks, the only sound in the room the muffled thrum of the street below.

“Sorry,” Beckett whispers, his voice trembling. He runs a hand through his hair, looking more lost than ever. “I… don’t think I can do this.”

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to calm down as you look at Beckett, his face flushed and his eyes wide with panic. “Are you a virgin or something?” You ask, gently although your patience is wearing thin.

His eyes widen as he shakes his head panicked. “No! I’m not!” He exclaims, “I mean… barely, I just... I didn't think... I mean, I didn't expect..."

You sigh, frustration bubbling up despite your attempt to stay calm. You sit up, running a hand through your hair as you try to compose yourself. "Look, Beckett," you start, your voice more controlled now. "It's okay to be nervous. Just, do you want to hook up or not?”

Beckett freezes, caught off guard by your direct question. His eyes widen as he processes your words, his mind racing with a mix of uncertainty and desire. He opens his mouth to reply, but the words catch in his throat, his nerves getting the better of him. Finally, he takes a deep breath, his voice quiet. "I... I want to," he admits softly, his cheeks flushing deeper with embarrassment.

“Really? Because it really doesn’t seem like that,” You say, crossing your arms defensively.

Beckett's shoulders slump slightly, his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he realizes he's disappointed you. He looks down at his hands, unsure of how to salvage the situation. "I... I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the hum of the air conditioning in the room.

You sigh, falling back onto the bed. “It’s fine, whatever. Just leave, please.”

Beckett sits there, visibly conflicted and unsure how to proceed. He watches you retreat to the bed, your frustration palpable in the air. Eventually, he begins to button his shirt back up and stands up. “I’m… sorry. Happy Birthday.” He decides to say, plainly, and without another word, leaves the room.

And not long after that, you fall asleep.

***

This morning

“Oh… my god.” You murmur, your cheeks burning at the memory as you face him right now. You immediately feel bad, as you didn’t remember what you did with him, but at the same time, a part of you thought it was a little bit immature of him to not know what he was doing at all. Especially since he said he wasn’t a virgin.

Beckett raises an eyebrow, slumping slightly. “Um, so I take it you remember now…?” He asks, quietly.

You groan inwardly, unable to hide your frustration as the memories from last night flood back. It wasn’t just that Beckett had been inexperienced, but the way the encounter had ended left you feeling awkward and unsatisfied.

“Yeah, I remember,” you mutter, rubbing your temples as you try to shake off the lingering embarrassment. “Look, I’m sorry for how things went down last night. It was just… really unexpected.”

Beckett nods, his eyes downcast. “I know, I was a mess. I didn’t mean to ruin your night. I mean, you seemed… really horny.” He replies, his voice getting smaller.

You sigh heavily, trying to push down the frustration bubbling up inside you. "Yeah, I was," you admit bluntly, not wanting to sugarcoat the truth. "I was looking for a good time, Beckett, and you... well, you weren't ready for that."

Beckett's cheeks flush even more, his eyes darting away from yours. "I know, I'm sorry," he mumbles, clearly feeling the weight of your disappointment. He takes a deep breath, mustering up all the confidence he has before continuing, “Can I ask you something, though?”

You take a deep breath, trying to rein in your frustration. "Yeah, what is it?" you ask, crossing your arms defensively.

Beckett hesitates, his eyes flickering nervously to yours before looking away again. "Do you think we could try again?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "I mean, not like, hook up, but a date or something.”

“A date?” You echo, as if the word itself is foreign to you. You were never one for serious relationships, your last one ended when you were Beckett’s age, and you never tried again, instead opting for casual, no-strings endeavors.

Your laugh echoes through the room, cutting through the tension like a knife. Beckett flinches, his expression shifting from hopeful to crestfallen in an instant. His cheeks flush even deeper, and he looks down at the floor, his hands fidgeting nervously.

"A date?" you say, again, unable to hide the incredulity in your voice. "You think after last night, we should go on a date?"

Beckett swallows hard, his eyes still downcast. "I just thought... maybe we could start over. Get to know each other better."

You let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "Look, I get it. You're a nice guy, and maybe in another life, things would be different. But I don't do dates. I don't do relationships. I'm here for a good time, not a long time."

He looks up at you then, his blue eyes wide with a mix of hurt and determination. "But why not? What's so bad about trying to get to know someone? To see if there's something more?"

You can feel your patience wearing thin, the frustration bubbling up inside you. "Because I don't have time for that. I have my life, my career, my friends. I don't need complications. Last night was supposed to be fun, simple. And it wasn't."

Beckett takes a deep breath, clearly gathering his courage. "I get that, but maybe... just maybe, we could be good together. I felt something last night, even if it was awkward and messy. Didn't you feel it too?"

“Look, no hard feelings, but I believed stuff like that at your age too. All that ‘meant to be’ shit, but, guess what? I got dumped. Shit happens, Beckett, and I don’t want you wasting your time on someone like me. I mean, look at me, I get drunk and pounce on random guys in Vegas. I’m a mess.” You end up monologuing, pacing along with it, the words endlessly flowing as Beckett looks at you wide-eyed.

Beckett flinches at your tone, his shoulders slumping further. "I understand," he says quietly, though it's clear he doesn't. "But I thought maybe we could be different. That we could... I don't know, figure things out together."

You stop pacing, turning to face him with a sigh. "And what if we can't? What if this ends up being another mess? I'm not looking to fix anything, Beckett. I'm not looking for someone to fix me."

"I'm not trying to fix you," he insists, finally meeting your gaze. "I just... I like you. I think you’re beautiful, and even though you were absolutely wasted last night, I can tell you’re a good person, too.”

You scoff along with a chuckle. “Just because there’s an Eiffel Tower outside, doesn’t mean that we’re in the city of love, babe. Now, can you just go live your life and leave me alone, please?”

Beckett's shoulders slump, and he takes a deep breath, clearly gathering the last of his courage. "I get it," he says softly, his voice barely audible. "I really do. But I still think you're worth the risk." With that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, your frustration boiling over.

You watch him go, a mix of anger and confusion churning in your gut. You can't believe this kid—this barely-adult—had the nerve to suggest something so ridiculous. Who does he think he is, trying to swoop in and "fix" you? The very idea makes your skin crawl.

***

Tonight

After a long day of walking the strip, where the neon lights blazed and the city’s cacophony thrummed through your bones, you finally trudge into your new hotel, exhausted. Your feet ache from the endless parade of shops, your senses are dulled by the not-so-discreet drinks you indulged in, and all you crave is the solace of your room, a comforting meal from room service, and the promise of sleep before your flight home in the morning. But that’s when you see him.

Beckett is sprawled out on one of the lobby couches, limbs askew, wearing a hockey jersey that makes you cringe. The garish colors clash horribly with the elegant decor of the lobby, and for a moment, you consider just leaving him there, not wanting to deal with the hassle. However, the outline of his phone and wallet in his pocket catches your eye, and you can’t help but imagine how terrifying it would be to wake up and find them gone, lost to the myriad of opportunistic thieves in Vegas.

With a resigned sigh, you approach Beckett, shaking your head at the sight. "Hey," you say, gently shaking his shoulder. "Wake up."

Beckett stirs, blinking groggily up at you, his eyes bleary and unfocused. "Huh? Oh, it's you," he mumbles, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?"

"It's late," you reply, your voice softer than you intended. “Why are you in my hotel? Stalker much?”

Beckett's cheeks flush with embarrassment, and he shifts uncomfortably on the couch. "I'm not stalking you," he mutters defensively. "I was already here. After party. I went to an… event.” He says groggily, sitting up.

You laugh, crossing your arms, “Oh yeah? What kind of event does some eighteen-year-old kid have to go to in Vegas?” You question, gesturing to his jersey, “An Anaheim Ducks watch party?”

Beckett frowns, blinking sleep out of his eyes as he sits up straighter. “No, it’s not even hockey season,” he corrects you, running a hand through his tousled hair. “You know the team?”

You sigh, softening a little. “I live in LA. Would be kind of weird if I didn’t.”

Beckett’s eyes widen, and he immediately leans forward, “Really?” he asks, his expression lighting up.

You raise an eyebrow as you study him, “Yeah? What, you gonna try to find me now? Take me to a romantic dinner?”

Beckett shakes his head again before gesturing to his jersey, “No, I uh… just got drafted. Hence, the jersey.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. "Drafted? Like, to the NHL?"

Beckett nods, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, the Ducks picked me up,” he says, holding up three fingers, “Third overall.”

Your eyes widen even further, your initial frustration beginning to melt away. "Third overall? That's... wow, that's impressive," you admit, genuinely impressed despite yourself.

Beckett shrugs, trying to downplay it, but there's a proud glint in his eyes. "Yeah, it's pretty crazy. Still getting used to the idea."

You nod slowly, taking in the news. "So, you're not just some random kid," you muse aloud. "You're actually going places. That’s why you’re in Vegas?”

Beckett nods, his expression a mix of pride and nervousness. "Yeah, for the draft," he replies, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I was celebrating with a few friends here tonight, but... well, they left early."

You raise an eyebrow, noting the slight defensiveness in his tone. "Left you hanging, huh?" you remark, a hint of sympathy creeping into your voice despite your earlier frustration. "That sucks."

"Yeah," Beckett admits, his shoulders slumping a little. "It does. But... it gave me some time to think."

You watch him carefully, unsure where this conversation is heading. "Think about what?" you prompt, genuinely curious now.

Beckett hesitates, chewing on his lower lip as he searches for the right words. "About us," he admits finally, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of vulnerability and determination.

Your heart skips a beat, caught off guard by his honesty. "Us?" you echo, your voice softer than before. "Beckett, there's no 'us.' Last night was... a mess."

"I know," Beckett agrees, his voice earnest. "And I'm sorry about that. I was... overwhelmed. But I can't stop thinking about you, about how things could've been different."

You sigh, torn between frustration and a strange sense of curiosity. "Beckett, I'm not looking for anything serious," you say, trying to be clear despite the conflicting emotions stirring within you. "I told you that."

"I know," he acknowledges, his gaze unwavering. "But maybe we don't have to define it right now. Maybe we can just... see where things go."

You hesitate, chewing on your lower lip as you consider his words. A part of you wants to push him away, to stick to your rules and avoid any potential mess. But another part of you—the part that felt a spark of connection last night—wonders if there might be more to explore.

“Goodnight, Beckett,” you finally say, quietly, patting him on the shoulder as you begin to stride off. “I’ll see you on TV one day.”

***

The next morning - Las Vegas International Airport

Well, this was it. You were going home after a weekend in Vegas that was both uneventful and extremely eventful at the same time. The vibrant lights of the strip and the distant echo of slot machines still linger in your mind as you sit at your gate, the screen flashing ‘Los Angeles’ in bold letters. The cacophony of announcements, chatter, and the occasional wail of a child fills the air, but you try to tune out all the noise and relax.

Suddenly, someone slides into the seat beside you, and you look over. Immediately, you groan. Beckett settles into the seat beside you at the airport gate, looking a bit sheepish but determined. His hair is tousled from a night of restless sleep, and he's wearing a hoodie emblazoned with the Anaheim Ducks logo. You feel a mix of annoyance and curiosity as he sits down without a word. Before you can speak, he breaks the silence.

"Fancy seeing you here. I’m on this flight too,” Beckett starts, speaking confidently. This is different from the shy, flustered young man you met two nights ago. This man knows what he wants and he’s making sure you know it.

You raise an eyebrow. “Is this that ‘professional athlete’ superiority that all of you eventually get?” you reply, your tone sarcastic.

Beckett chuckles softly, shaking his head as he looks at you with a playful glint in his eyes. "Nah, this is just me trying not to let you slip away without giving me a fair shot," he replies, his voice earnest yet laced with humor.

You roll your eyes, trying to maintain a semblance of annoyance despite the warmth spreading in your chest. "Give you a fair shot? We barely know each other," you retort, crossing your arms defensively.

"That's true," Beckett acknowledges with a nod, his expression earnest. "But I want to change that. I want to get to know you better."

You sigh, feeling conflicted. "Beckett, I told you—"

"—that you're not looking for anything serious," he finishes your sentence, his voice gentle yet determined. "I remember. But I’m not asking you for much. One date.”

His sincerity catches you off guard. You study his face, searching for any hint of insincerity or game-playing, but all you find is genuine earnestness and a touch of nervous hope.

"You're persistent," you remark finally, unable to hide a small smile. "Most guys would have given up by now."

Beckett shrugs, a self-deprecating smile quirking his lips. "I guess I'm not most guys," he replies softly. “And when I tell you you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen, I mean it. I would never forgive myself if I let you leave without another word.”

You pause, surprised by Beckett's sudden confession. His words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you're at a loss for what to say. The sincerity in his eyes is undeniable, and despite your reservations, a part of you is intrigued by his persistence.

"I... Beckett, I appreciate your honesty," you begin cautiously, your voice softening. "But you barely know me. Why are you so sure about this?"

Beckett takes a deep breath, his gaze steady as he meets your eyes. "I know what I felt when I met you," he admits earnestly. "It's rare to meet someone who challenges me like you do. And... I want to take that chance, even if it's just one date."

His vulnerability tugs at something inside you. You've always been guarded, especially after getting heartbroken all those years ago, but Beckett's openness is disarming. You end up laughing, “Okay, are you sure that ‘feeling’ wasn’t just you being horny?”

At that moment, the boy you met a few nights ago comes back as his cheeks tinge pink. “No!” he exclaims, nervously, “I mean… maybe a little, but that’s definitely not why I want to take you out.”

You chuckle softly at Beckett's flustered response, finding his awkward honesty oddly endearing. Despite your initial annoyance, his sincerity begins to chip away at your defenses. “You do know how old I am, right?” you question, still wondering why he’s so sure about this.

Beckett's cheeks flush deeper as he nods, clearly embarrassed but determined to continue. "Yeah, I know," he admits, his voice steady despite his nervousness. "You're older than me, but age doesn't really matter to me. What matters is getting to know you better, seeing where things could go."

You tilt your head, studying him intently. His earnestness is undeniable, and despite your initial reservations, you find yourself intrigued by his persistence and sincerity. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you?" you tease lightly, trying to lighten the tension that's built between you.

Beckett chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm trying," he admits, his gaze earnest as he meets your eyes. "Look, I get that you've been through some stuff. So have I, in different ways. But... I can't stop thinking about you. And I don't want to wonder 'what if?'"

His words strike a chord within you. The familiarity of unresolved questions and missed opportunities resonate, and for a moment, you find yourself considering his proposal. "One date," you finally concede, your voice softer than before. "But I'm not making any promises beyond that."

A bright smile spreads across Beckett's face, genuine and relieved. "One date is all I'm asking for," he agrees eagerly. "Thank you."

And as he smiles at you, all boyish and bright-eyed but with a deeper maturity within, you know he’s right.

This isn’t like anything you’ve felt before.

#hot hockey players #nhl fanfiction #anaheim ducks #hockey fanfiction #beckett sennecke #beckett sennecke fic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl x reader

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obsessivelyloved · 4 months

Text

This was requested on one of my nsfw blogs but I went insane and made it 3,000 words long. So I can post most of it here lol. Just know that in my heart, this takes place in Arkham. Also I'm super rusty so I apologize if anything feels off/wonky. The ending is abrupt here bc the rest of it/the ending is nsfw. I was up til 5am writing this and I'm not writing a sfw ending for this blog until after i get more sleep.

Anon asks: I’m a big sucker for Psych Au fics. Reader is a cis female doctor who treats Tord with kindness. He becomes obsessed with her. Refuses to talk to any other doctor. Tord is always on his best behavior for her which leads her to let her guard down. BIG MISTAKE

___________________________________________________________

“You dropped this.”

The man stares at you wide eyed as you hand him his lighter. He stands, rigid. You give him a gentle smile and press it into his palm, your other hand curling around the back of his hand.

“I know there’s no fluid in it, so you don’t have to worry about me taking it,” you say to him. You pat his hand and step away.

The man turns fully towards you and you’re able to read the name sewed onto his shirt.

“I-” the man- Tord- swallows hard. He quickly pockets the lighter. “Thank you.”

You give him another smile and walk past him. He seemed to be going the same way as you but he never caught up. Nor did you hear footsteps behind you. Once you reach the director’s office, he leaves your thoughts. You were determined to make a good first impression on your first day of the job.

The man you met earlier had turned out to be your first patient. And oh boy, what a patient he was. Like you had promised yourself you weren’t going to judge any of these people but god damn. His file was thick. At least twenty papers were inside the manilla folder you had received from the head director’s office. Maybe even more.

You’d never know if you kept standing outside the director’s office gawking at it. You take a deep breath. Going through it sitting down was probably a good idea. As you make your way to the breakroom, your grip on the folder is tight, trying your best to make sure you don’t drop it and reveal your patient's file.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take you long to get to the breakroom. A few people were there but they paid you no mind. They sit, hunched over lunch or their own files. You sit and start to read.

Løvik Tord

3 7 2 5 9

DOB: 1995

Age: 28

Hair: Dark brown with lighter brown roots

Eye: Silver

You end up skimming through this until you get to the bottom of the page. It wasn’t… pretty.

CASE INFORMATION:

Tord is a violent man. He is aggressive, manipulative, and has a short temper. Many doctors have tried working with him to no avail. He does not respond kindly to Dr.Casey (see page 5), Dr.Bonnie (see page 8), Dr.Roxy (see page 12), or Dr.Harley (see page 15).

He is extremely aggressive towards Dr. Bruce (see page 20).

You stop reading there, your chest feeling tight. You flip to page twenty. It’s not the last page like you had hoped. There were still…. Quite a bit in the file.

Dr.Bruce has tried everything he can to help Tord. He has tried finding common ground with the patient. Has tried being lax and strict with Tord’s schedule. Has tried working with Tord and letting him sit outside. Tord had found every loophole and burned every bridge until Dr.Bruce stopped lenient treatments. Tord stabbed Dr.Bruce fifteen times before guards made their way into the room.

It is unknown how and where he had gotten his hands on a sharp long blade. Tord was seen licking the blood of-

“Don’t worry if you can’t fix him. At this point, Doctor Markman hands his case off to fresh blood to showcase this place. No one expects you to be able to tame him.”

You startle at the voice, goosebumps raised on your arms. “I’m sorry?” you ask with a polite smile. Anger clouded your fear. What the hell was this person talking about?

The doctor, Alice, her name tag reads, smiles at you.

“Nearly everyone has tried working with him at this point,” she continues. “No one expects him to ever get better. He's here for murder, after all.”

You give her a tight smile in return. “I’ll just have to see for myself.”

Before she can keep going, you straighten up the papers and close the folder.

“I appreciate the advice, but I must be going now,” you lie through your teeth. What bullshit! What kind of doctors run this place?

You actually hadn’t needed to be anywhere for another thirty minutes but if this conversation continued you wouldn’t be able to hold your tongue. Everyone can be saved. With compassion and kindness and help, no one was beyond redemption. Or too far gone for help.

You storm out of the breakroom and wander.

“I was hoping I’d see you again.”

Tord grins at you as he’s escorted in. His hands are cuffed and before he can sit down, the guard pats him down.

It makes your stomach churn but you keep your face kind.

“It’s nice to see you too,” you greet. You watch cautiously as he sits down in the plush chair. The guard leaves the room.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

It’s silent enough to hear the clock as the two of you study each other. He seems to drink you in, eyes wandering up and down, seeming to take in everything. You’d do the same if you weren’t a professional.

“You used to dye your hair?”

Tord raises an eyebrow. He tilts his head a little, eyes focused solely on you. It unnerves you almost as much as his file had. No patient of yours had ever stared at you so intensely in the past….

After a moment, he answers. “Yes. I fancied black quite a bit.” He gestures towards his roots. “It’s been a while since Bruce got me more dye. No one else will.”

“I could look into it,” you clasp your hands, jumping into this opportunity. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll talk to Doctor Marksman.”

“And what do you want from me in return?”

“I’m sorry?”

His gaze hardens. “What. do. You. want.” He grinds out, his body rigid in the chair. His hands were clenched.

Without thinking, puzzlement falls across your face. What did he mean? What did you want? For him to get better, obviously.

“I want you to be at ease with your mental health,” you answer, still looking puzzled. “I don’t want anything else from this job but that. I’m not dangling hair dye in front of you in exchange. I want you to feel comfortable in your skin and at home here, Mr.Løvik.”

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

“Is that really what you want?” Tord asks, an emotion you can’t quite place in his voice. “To help me get better?”

Whatever it may be, you smile at him.

“Of course. I want nothing but to see you succeed and be happy here.”

Things were easier after that first session. You always started off kindly, asking Tord how his day was going. If his favorite show or movie had aired on the television today.If his favorite food had been served that morning or afternoon. If he slept fine through the dreadful storm.

(“I know I wasn’t,” you had laughed. “I tossed and turned, jumping at each sound all night.”

“I’m sure your boyfriend was quite displeased.”

“Oh,” you chuckle. “Well, no. I have a cat but no boyfriend. I was too busy getting my decree to ever really mingle like that. Though, my poor little man was also distraught at all the thunder last night. He yowled at my door until I let him into my room and he curled up on my bed. I’ll bring pictures next time.”)

Too well for you and only you. Tord refused to talk to anyone but you. He would sit in silence or insult other doctors during his sessions. In one instance, he broke a new doctor’s nose. The poor guy had quit on the spot, cussing Tord and the whole place out as he was escorted to the medical section.

You were tense the next few sessions but that violent man was nowhere to be found. He kept his cuffed hands right in front where you can see them at all times. He never lunged from you. In fact, barely ever moved in his chair.

Tord was easygoing. Polite, charming, even. He took any medications he needed obediently and put up no fuss when you’d have him describe in later sessions how he was feeling and if he was feeling any negative side effects.

He asked about your cat. About how your favorite show was going. If the movie you were looking forward to has come out yet. If your favorite restaurant down the street from your apartment was still closed for renovations.

Eventually, enough time had passed that you relaxed. You stopped keeping your eyes trained on his hands. You stopped worrying yourself sick about his body language. You focused on his treatments and his mental health.

If he was going to hurt me he would have done so by now, you thought to yourself after your latest session with Tord. He was doing so much better than he had been doing six months ago. It seemed as if you were really making a difference, helping him improve.

It had been three months since he last fought another patient. Two months since he assaulted another doctor. And five months since he refused treatment of any kind.

You step outside the building and take a deep breath. A dopey smile sticks to your face as you walk to your car. Becoming a doctor was the best choice you’ve ever made. Nothing was more rewarding than helping people. Not even this cloudy weather could bring you down.

In fact, nothing tried to drag your mood down. There was no traffic on the way home. Some asshole hadn’t parked in your assigned parking spot again in the parking lot of your apartment. And your sweet cat hadn’t knocked his little box over again.

You happily reheat your leftovers and watch tv for a while before you get ready for bed. Unfortunately, your mood does come crashing down.

In the middle of the night, thunder wakes you. You jolt up, scrambling for your phone. Your hands come up empty. Shit, you think. I left it charging in the kitchen. Ugh. Oh well, you don’t need to look at your phone to see it is late and storming.

Another loud sound booms through your apartment. Only this time, it sounds like a crash.

“It’s just thunder,” you tell yourself. “Nothing to be afraid of.” You lay back down. Your eyes shut and you’re just about drifting to sleep when your door creeks open.

You bolt up, knowing damn well that your cat can’t open doors and you freeze.

Your heart races as your mind tries to process just who was in front of you.

“Tord?” you whimper, hands shaking. But that can’t be. That was impossible. He was supposed to be sleeping soundly in his room with the soundproof headphones you got him. He didn’t like storms. The thunder reminded him too much of gunshots and made him restless.

Useless information floods your brain.

“I’m home, sweetheart,” he rasps. His grin is soft in the moonlight. He reaches over to flick on your bedroom light.

He’s gentle he’s kind he’s sweet he’s-

He’s covered in blood.

Tord steps forward and you’re frozen in bed. His eyes are wild as they drink you in. There’s blood on his hands. In his hair. Splatters on his face.

“Oh honey how I’ve dreamed of this,” he croons at the foot of your bed. “Your apartment is just as cute as you described.”

#tw yandere #yandere tw #yandere tord #yandere tord x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fic #yandere x you #yandere x female reader

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xxdark-obsessionxx · 4 months

Note

I’m a big sucker for Psych Au fics. Reader is a cis female doctor who treats Tord with kindness. He becomes obsessed with her. Refuses to talk to any other doctor.

Tord is always on his best behavior for her which leads her to let her guard down.

BIG MISTAKE

I was supposed to be asleep five hours ago but I couldn’t until I finished this. Just know that in my heart, this takes place in Arkham. Also I'm super rusty so I apologize if anything feels off/wonky.

CW: Noncon

Dark themes ahead, please read at your own discretion and keep yourself safe. This is a work of fiction and I do not condone or support scenarios like this in real life

_____________________________________________

“You dropped this.”

The man stares at you wide eyed as you hand him his lighter. He stands, rigid. You give him a gentle smile and press it into his palm, your other hand curling around the back of his hand.

“I know there’s no fluid in it, so you don’t have to worry about me taking it,” you say to him. You pat his hand and step away.

The man turns fully towards you and you’re able to read the name sewed onto his shirt.

“I-” the man- Tord- swallows hard. He quickly pockets the lighter. “Thank you.”

You give him another smile and walk past him. He had seemed to be going the same way as you but he never caught up. Nor did you hear footsteps behind you. Once you reach the director’s office, he leaves your thoughts. You were absolutely determined to make a good first impression on your first day of the job.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take you long to get to the breakroom. A few people were there but they paid you no mind. They sit, hunched over lunch or their own files. You sit and start to read.

Løvik Tord

3 7 2 5 9

DOB: 1995

Age: 28

Hair: Dark brown with lighter brown roots

Eye: Silver

You end up skimming through this until you get to the bottom of the page. It wasn’t… pretty.

CASE INFORMATION:

He is extremely aggressive towards Dr. Bruce (see page 20).

You stop reading there, your chest feeling tight. You flip to page twenty. It’s not the last page like you had hoped. There were still…. Quite a bit in the file.

It is unknown how and where he had gotten his hands on a sharp long blade. Tord was seen licking the blood of-

“Don’t worry if you can’t fix him. At this point, Doctor Markman hands his case off to fresh blood to showcase this place. No one expects you to be able to tame him.”

You startle at the voice, goosebumps raised on your arms. “I’m sorry?” you ask with a polite smile. Anger clouded your fear. What the hell was this person talking about?

The doctor, Alice, her name tag reads, smiles at you.

“Nearly everyone has tried working with him at this point,” she continues. “No one expects him to ever get better. He's here for murder, after all.”

You give her a tight smile in return. “I’ll just have to see for myself.”

Before she can keep going, you straighten up the papers and close the folder.

“I appreciate the advice, but I must be going now,” you lie through your teeth. What bullshit! What kind of doctors run this place?

You storm out of the breakroom and wander.

“I was hoping I’d see you again.”

Tord grins at you as he’s escorted in. His hands are cuffed and before he can sit down, the guard pats him down.

It makes your stomach churn but you keep your face kind.

“It’s nice to see you too,” you greet. You watch cautiously as he sits down in the plush chair. The guard leaves the room.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

“You used to dye your hair?”

Tord raises an eyebrow. He tilts his head a little, eyes focused solely on you. It unnerves you almost as much as his file had. No patient of yours had ever stared at you so intensely in the past….

After a moment, he answers. “Yes. I fancied black quite a bit.” He gestures towards his roots. “It’s been a while since Bruce got me more dye. No one else will.”

“I could look into it,” you clasp your hands, jumping into this opportunity. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll talk to Doctor Marksman.”

“And what do you want from me in return?”

“I’m sorry?”

His gaze hardens. “What. do. You. want.” He grinds out, his body rigid in the chair. His hands were clenched.

Without thinking, puzzlement falls across your face. What did he mean? What did you want? For him to get better, obviously.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

“Is that really what you want?” Tord asks, an emotion you can’t quite place in his voice. “To help me get better?”

Whatever it may be, you smile at him.

“Of course. I want nothing but to see you succeed and be happy here.”

(“I know I wasn’t,” you had laughed. “I tossed and turned, jumping at each sound all night.”

“I’m sure your boyfriend was quite displeased.”

It had been three months since he last fought another patient. Two months since he assaulted another doctor. And five months since he refused treatment of any kind.

You happily reheat your leftovers and watch tv for a while before you get ready for bed. Unfortunately, your mood does come crashing down.

Another loud sound booms through your apartment. Only this time, it sounds like a crash.

“It’s just thunder,” you tell yourself. “Nothing to be afraid of.” You lay back down. Your eyes shut and you’re just about drifting to sleep when your door creeks open.

You bolt up, knowing damn well that your cat can’t open doors and you freeze.

Your heart races as your mind tries to process just who was in front of you.

Useless information floods your brain.

“I’m home, sweetheart,” he rasps. His grin is soft in the moonlight. He reaches over to flick on your bedroom light.

He’s gentle he’s kind he’s sweet he’s-

He’s covered in blood.

Tord steps forward and you’re frozen in bed. His eyes are wild as they drink you in. There’s blood on his hands. In his hair. Splatters on his face.

“Oh honey how I’ve dreamed of this,” he croons at the foot of your bed. “Your apartment is just as cute as you described.”

He grabs the edge of your blanket and pulls it off. His smile grows sappy. “You did go for the red pants like I suggested.” He giggles, staring between your legs. “I wonder if there’s a match beneath them.”

That snaps you out of your shocked stupor. You scramble off your bed, slamming your head hard against your nightstand as you try to avoid Tord’s lunging grasp.

You lay fetal on the floor, tears in your eyes as you clutch your head. “Fuck,” you hiss.

Tord clicks his tongue. He slowly climbs off your bed, crouching next to you. “My poor clumsy sweetheart.”

You feel his hands in your hair.

“What do you want?” you gasp. Fear and pain mix as you start to cry into your carpet.

His hands stroke your hair.

“You.”

With that, you’re powerless to stop him as he scoops you up into his arms. You thrash as he dumps you back onto your bed, pinning you down.

“I know you're scared but it’s ok. I’ll be gentle, my love. So gentle.”

Your mind can’t wrap your head around what’s happening. Tord isn’t supposed to be tying your wrists to your headboard. He isn’t supposed to be kissing your neck and grinding his hard arousal between your legs. He isn’t supposed to be in your home.

“Such a good girl, staying still for me,” Tord says softly as he pulls back. He slides your pants down. Disappoint clouds his eyes when he sees your panties aren’t red but it’s deepened when he pulls those down and you’re barely wet.

“It’s ok sweets. I’ll figure out what gets you going. There’s nothing to be ashamed of in needing help.”

Anger wells in your chest as Tord fishes for something in one of his pockets. How dare he. How dare he parrot your own advice back at you. As if this was a simple therapy session. As if you were the patient and he was the doctor wanting to help.

“Get off me!” you snarl. “You know this isn’t right Tord. Y-you’re sick! You need help!”

Tord stops what he’s doing to stare dead eyed at you. He plucks a clean rag off your nightstand and stuffs it into your mouth.

“Enough of that,” he scolds. “You need this as much as I do. In fact, doctors orders.”

He grins at his own twisted joke. He fishes through his pockets again and pulls out a small bottle of lube. “Yes, just what my love needs. A good thorough fuck.”

You desperately try to spit the rag out but your mouth is too dry. You twist and tug your wrists but to no avail. This was happening. Your gentle, sweet patient was going to take your virginity.

Tord carefully squirts lube onto his fingers, rubbing them together. He parts your folds, humming appreciatively as he rubs your clit.

“That’s it, my good girl. Get nice and wet for me.”

You feel sick. Against your will, his crooning and his touches stir up arousal inside you. You close your eyes as he gently fingers you as if he was searching for something.

A minute later, your eyes fly open as he jabs something horrible. Your pussy grows slick from it, pleasure building in your lower stomach.

“There it is.”

You shake your head violently. Not there, you try to plead with your eyes. Anywhere but there!

But Tord merely smiles at you and ruthlessly abuses that spot. Over and over his fingers jab and curl, rubbing it. You squeeze your eyes tight, small moans making their way out of your throat as pleasure jolts through you.. His thumb strokes your clit and you cum embarrassedly fast. You stare at the ceiling and wish you hadn’t wanted to cum at all.

“Good girl,” Tord praises. He pulls his fingers out, eying them appreciatively. He sticks them in his mouth and sucks, moaning. “So sweet. But I’m too impatient to try it from the source. You’ll have to forgive me, my love.”

Panic jolts up your spine as you feel his tip pressing against your entrance. You try to climb up your bed rest but you only achieve getting a little higher up on your pillows. Tord sighs and presses forward.

“It’ll hurt for a moment but I promise this will feel good,” Tord tries to soothe. He picks up the lube and squeezes more into his palm and strokes himself.

You hate him. You hate him with all your heart.

He pushed forward and once again, you squeezed your eyes tight. His hand roughly grabs your throat.

“Eyes on me,” he snaps. “I want to see how good I make you feel.”

The fear overturns the pain and you quickly open your eyes. He pushes further in, reaching down to run your clit.

Tord rocks his hips a little, eyes starstruck as he stares down at you. “You’re getting wetter,” he mumbles to himself. A grin spreads across his face.

His hips snap forward, setting a firm pace. He stops rubbing your clit to grab under your thighs. He lifts them up and pushes until they’re almost touching your breasts.

He thrusts harder and-

You squeal, bucking your hips as he hits that horrible spot. You can’t stop bucking your hips, jolts of pleasure stabbing your stomach and stars in your eyes.

Tord pressed closer to you, caging you in. He holds your gaze intensely, panting a little. His eyes dart between your face and your bouncing tits.

Like earlier, you cum fast. This one hits you harder. And Tord doesn’t stop.

You cum again and he pulls out. “Move and I’ll beat your ass with a belt,” he growls. He pulls out a switchblade and cuts the rope off your headboard. He’s quick to tie your wrists together.

You find yourself on your stomach, ass up. Tord firmly holds your hips. He enters again, pressing down against you. Caging you against the mattress as he pounds into your pussy hard. By the time you’re cumming again, he finally cums with you.

You’re crying by this point. Overstimulation has you cringing, your pussy tingling as he pulls out. Once again, you start to panic. Tord had come inside you. You thrash underneath him.

“Stop that,” he hisses, slapping your ass hard. You cry harder as he does it another three times. And another, until you finally go still.

You hear Tord sigh harshly. “I need to be patient with you,” he mumbles to himself. He gets off of you and you hear him leave the room.

He’s back within minutes, holding a wet hand towel. You’re gently turned over onto your back and he softly cleans you up. You can’t look at him.

“Mrrow.”

Your heart jolts. Your cat jumps onto the bed, purring as Tord pets him with his clean hand. Traitor.

“You rest while I pack,” Tord says softly. He leans down to press a kiss on your forehead. “I’ll grab everything you need and love for our new home.”

He climbs off the bed and leaves the room again. He comes back with duffel bags. Your cat paddles up to you and curls up next to you. He purrs hard as you sob your eyes out.

#tw yandere #yandere #tw noncon #yandere noncon #yandere tord x reader #cw noncon #cw yandere #yandere smut #yandere lemon #noncon tw #noncon cw #yandere x reader #yandere fic #yandere tord #yandere x you #tw dark fic #yandere sinsworld #sinsworld

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pastafossa · 19 days

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🌊TUNA-TOBER🌊 PROMPT CHALLENGE 2024 🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

Hello friends! So last month I realized that one of the reasons I'm struggling to get my writing back up to my old speed is I am seriously out of practice since Dec/Jan when shit went down and I stopped writing for a while. After some thought, I decided I was gonna set up a little prompt challenge for myself, just a general, 'here's a prompt a day' thing for about a month. And I tossed this idea out onto my fave Daredevil discord server to see if anyone would want to join. And I'm happy to say there were takers, including some of my favorite writers in the fandom! So I've set up a delicious prompt challenge for all of us, and for anyone else who wants to take part.

For each day in October, there are three prompts: an 🌧️angst/whump prompt🌧️, a 🌻fluff prompt🌻, and a 🔥kink prompt🔥. Participants are free to choose which one of the prompts they want to write or make art of, or they can try to incorporate two, or even all three prompts into a single fic or art piece. They can write a short fic/make art every day, or just on whichever days they feel like (personally I'm going to shoot for one fic a day, but we'll see), or even incorporate those prompts into the chapters of longer fics. There are also four 'backup' prompt options for each category in case anyone hits a day or prompt where they aren't really feeling what's available on the chosen day. If any of these prompts inspire you, you can feel free to take on the Tuna-Tober challenge even if you're not in the server! This challenge is also not fandom-specific (although I have a feeling I'm mostly gonna write Charlie Cox characters, a surprise to precisely zero people, but again, we'll see).

Sometime this week, I'll be setting up a sideblog specifically for Tuna-Tober. That sideblog blog will reblog any Tuna-Tober fics/art or link to those fics that are posted on Ao3 so they'll all be easy to find. That blog will also have instructions for how to tag your Tuna-Tober fics and/or art pieces. If you'd like to be notified when that sideblog is up so you can follow it, let me know in the comments.

Without further ado: our Tuna-Tober prompts!

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

Day 1: Falling Asleep In A Hospital Room ⚜ Reading To Each Other ⚜ Somnophilia

Day 2: “Why? Why do you love me?” ⚜ Flower Crowns ⚜ Mutual Masturbation

Day 3: Broken ⚜ “I feel real when i’m with you.” ⚜ Role Reversal

Day 4: “This isn’t you.” ⚜ “Are you blushing?” ⚜ Sixty-Nine

Day 5: Self-Loathing ⚜ Watergun Fight ⚜ Begging

Day 6: "Shh, I've got you now. I'm here." ⚜ Love Bites ⚜ “Spread your legs for me.”

Day 7: Nightmare ⚜ Honest Apology ⚜ Nothing Underneath

Day 8: Shaking ⚜ “You can sleep here tonight.” ⚜ Overstimulation

Day 9: Anxiety ⚜ “You don’t need to do that.” “I want to.” ⚜ “Open your mouth.”

Day 10: "I'm not good enough." ⚜ A Hug That Lasts A Little Too Long ⚜ Strap-on/Pegging

Day 11: Tears ⚜ “I’d be lost without you.” ⚜ Breast Worship

Day 12: "I did it for you.” ⚜ “You remembered?” ⚜ Deep-Throating

Day 13: Loneliness ⚜ Playful Kiss ⚜ “Beg me for it.”

Day 14: "Please look at me." ⚜ Sleep Talking ⚜ Accidental Stimulation

Day 15: Hiding An Injury ⚜ “Are you jealous?” ⚜ Threesome

Day 16: Exhaustion ⚜ Accidental Kiss ⚜ Against A Window

Day 17: "I'm not leaving you." ⚜ Tickling ⚜ “Touch yourself for me.”

Day 18: Scars ⚜ Pillow Fort ⚜ “I’m so proud of you, you’re taking me so well.”

Day 19: Touch starved ⚜ “I’ll always be there for you.” ⚜ Gags

Day 20: "Who did this to you?" ⚜ There Was Only One Bed ⚜ “You were made for me, weren’t you?”

Day 21: Fainting/Collapsing ⚜ Flustered ⚜ “Was that an order?”

Day 22: "You haven't done anything wrong." ⚜ Breathless Kiss ⚜ Aphrodisiacs

Day 23: Father ⚜ “If you won’t take care of yourself, I will.” ⚜ Toys

Day 24: Drugged ⚜ Drunken Confession ⚜ “Shh, do you want them to hear us?”

Day 25: "What's Wrong?" ⚜ Playing With Their Hair ⚜ “Did I say you could do that?”

Day 26: "You're not fine." ⚜ “Shut up and kiss me.” ⚜ Under The Desk

Day 27: Near Death Experience ⚜ Overheard Confession ⚜ “Let me see what that pretty mouth can do.”

Day 28: Chronic Pain ⚜ Sharing An Umbrella ⚜ Hair Pulling

Day 29: "Talk to me, please." ⚜ Forehead Kiss ⚜ Restraints

Day 30: Healing ⚜ Road Trip ⚜ “Take it off. Slowly.”

Day 31: "Why wasn't I enough?" ⚜ Blanket Hog ⚜ Stockings/Thigh Highs

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

🌊Tuna-Tober🌊 Backup Prompts:

Bound/Chained ⚜ Moving In Together ⚜ Almost Getting Caught

"Take me instead." ⚜ “I’m in love with you, and that scares me.” ⚜ High Heels

Insomnia ⚜ Adopting A Pet ⚜ Scent Marking

"You're not alone." ⚜ Playing A Game Together ⚜ Ass Worship

🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟🐟

#Tuna-Tober Prompt Challenge 2024 #Tuna-Tober #Prompt List #Promptober #I am going to have FUN WITH THIS #and i think the other writers and artists will too!#i really do just need a prompt sprint to kinda get my brain back in gear and i've had luck with this in the past #fic #fanfic #also knowing me it'll mostly be charlie cox characters but we'll see who else pops up #spawned because i always struggle choosing between kinktober and flufftober and whumptober #like what if i want a chance to do all of those in one month #although now my hardest part of the challenge might be choosing which to do when i like ALL the prompts of the day #but they don't all work in a single drabble fic #WHO KNOWS. LET'S DO THIS. I AM READY FOR OCTOBER

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alovesreading · 1 year

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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

| 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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