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lucy90712 · 1 month ago

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Could you write something for Jude. Maybe you guys gets into a fight and you’re surrounded by his family all day. They seem to notice the tension but doesn’t say anything but at some point or after a comment from him you break down and leave to be alone in your room. Leaving everyone shocked and surprised by the situation since you guys are very private. Maybe it could be during Christmas or a holiday?! Anyways if you want to. Thank

"Babe did you get the ice cream to go with the brownies?" Jude asked

"No I didn't know we needed some it wasn't on the list I only got all the stuff on the list" I said

"I thought you'd know we needed ice cream" he said

"I'm not psychic Jude we need so much stuff for tonight I spent all afternoon yesterday making a list of what we needed and I told you to put anything I missed on it" I said

"Well I'm busy I don't have time to be checking a stupid shopping list" Jude said starting to get angry

"I'm busy too you know" I commented

"Yeah right all you do is stay here all day" Jude laughed mockingly

"While I'm here I do all of the things you should be doing I clean I cook I take you wherever you need to go as you still can't drive and I'm doing that course to make my degree useful so I can get a job I don't just do nothing all day and you know it Jude" I said

I didn't even let him respond I just walked away to the kitchen to start preparing dinner. Jude invited his family over for dinner as they are all in Madrid this week so it's my job to get everything and cook it all. I quite like cooking but it feels like Jude is expecting me to be able to do it all and now I don't really want to do it but I will for his family as they don't need to be involved in our fight. Jude tried to come and help me but only after everything was all done so I just walked straight past him to go and get ready as I'm still covered in flour and other things. He tried to follow me but I closed the bathroom door and locked it so he couldn't get in as I just didn't want to talk to him right now. What he said really hurt me because I don't like him implying I do nothing all day when he knows that's not true. He might want to apologise but knowing Jude it will just end up in us arguing more and when his family is coming over soon we can't be in the middle of a big fight.

Once I got myself ready I couldn't find Jude so I just got on with finishing dinner until his family arrived and he suddenly appeared to let them in. I put on a smile as I greeted them all before heading back to the kitchen to plate up dinner for everyone I heard Denise ask Jude if I needed any help to which he said no even though he didn't ask and couldn't see that I was juggling three pans. I know for a fact that he knew I could hear him and was just trying to annoy me further and he managed just that the rage was building back up but I'm trying so hard to let it slide. Jude and I should really talk and not try and get to each other with these small digs but now isn't the time with his family here and as long as we don't kill each other we'll be fine.

As soon as I started bringing out the first plates Denise got up and helped me which helped me feel better as she's just always the sweetest and I realised I don't want to hurt that relationship by arguing with Jude in front of her and the rest of his family. Like always Jude sat next to me at the table but he wouldn't look at me and he didn't have one of his hands on my thigh like he usually would. Every time we accidentally touched Jude would move further away from me and I had to try so hard not to cry at that because it made me wonder if this is the beginning of the end and if he really hates me now.

"Are you two ok?" Denise asked

"We're fine it's just been a busy day" I lied

"Are you sure?" Mark asked

"Yeah bro why do you look so mad?" Jobe asked

"Because my girlfriend is annoying" Jude said under his breath but everyone heard him

That comment was it for me I couldn't hold in my feelings anymore and the tears started to fall so I got up from my seat without saying anything as I just needed to get out of there. I thought about leaving the house altogether but I didn't instead I went upstairs to my office space and locked myself in there.

Jude's POV

"What was that all about son?" My dad asked me

"Nothing" I mumbled back

"Well it's not nothing if y/n has just run off crying and you don't say things like that about your girlfriend" my mum scolded me

"We had a bit of a fight earlier it's nothing" I said

"What exactly happened y/n isn't one to get overly emotional so I don't think she'd be crying over a small fight" my mum said

"Y/n went to get everything for tonight but she didn't get ice cream as it wasn't on the list and she blamed me for not putting it on there even though I'm busy and she got mad when I said she's always home" I ranted

"So you called her lazy pretty much" Jobe commented

"No I didn't" I said

"I really thought we raised you better son you didn't do your part and I'm sure y/n asked you and you've blamed her and then insulted her when in reality you don't know what she does when you're not here" my dad said

"You should go and talk to her and apologise you might not think you've done much wrong but you've hurt her feelings and in a healthy relationship you should be able to realise that and apologise" my mum said

"And y/n's a great girl you won't find someone else like her easily" Jobe said seriously

"Take some time to think then go and talk to her we will leave you two to talk and please tell y/n that we haven't left because of her" my mum said

True to her word they all got up and left leaving me sat at the dining table alone with my thoughts. I know they are right I've messed up not only is what I said not true and I know it but it hurt y/n way more than I meant for it to. I was mad and said something stupid which I've done before when we've argued because we aren't perfect we do argue but I've never made her cry. Knowing I'm the one that's made her cry made me feel awful seeing her cry over other things is always horrible but being the one to make her cry makes me feel like a horrible person. I have to apologise and I know that but I need to find the right words to say to make this better and not worse.

Your POV

I sat not even in my desk chair I just sat on the floor leaning against the wall facing another wall with framed photos of me and my friends and family as well as some with Jude that were only put up a few days ago. I still love him there's no way I couldn't but what he said made me wonder what he thinks of me I thought he loved me too but maybe now we live together I'm just a burden to him. Maybe I just need to leave for a few days or a few weeks and get my life together so that I'm not so much of a bother or if that's really what Jude thinks maybe we just won't work out. That thought really hurts as we've been together for nearly 4 years now and for that to just go down the drain over what started as a stupid little argument would haunt me. Just as my thoughts were spiralling someone tried to open the door but as it was locked they couldn't get in.

"Y/n please unlock the door so we can talk" Jude said through the door

I did as he asked and unlocked the door from the floor and watched him as he came in and sat across from me on the floor. He tried to reach out and grab my hand but I pulled it away as I want to know he's not still mad or going to break up with me before I let him hold my hand. I couldn't read his expression which isn't normal usually I can read Jude like a book but his expression isn't one I've seen before and I don't know what it means.

"I'm sorry I'm really sorry I shouldn't have said that you do nothing all day I know that's not true and I shouldn't have made that comment in front of my family that was completely unnecessary they left so we can talk but they wanted you to know they don't hate you and didn't leave because of you they just want us to be able to talk" he explained

"I'm sorry too I shouldn't have run off like that I just didn't want to cry in front of everyone and I couldn't stop myself from crying" I said

"You don't need to be sorry this is my fault I should've listened to you and looked at the list and I shouldn't have got mad at you for not reading my mind and it was stupid of me to let my anger take over and say things I don't mean" he apologised

"I'm trying I promise it's just things have been tough moving here away from all my family and friends hasn't been easy and the fact that I couldn't just come here and get a job hasn't helped either I feel useless so to hear you say I do nothing all day just hurts" I said

"Oh babe I didn't realise you'd be struggling so much you know you can talk to me about anything and if it feels like too much you can tell me and I can try and help" he said

"But you're never here I can't talk to you when you aren't here that's the problem I'm all alone and I have nothing to do I'm trying to find anything to keep me occupied I mean last week I got a ladder out and cleaned the windows I just need a purpose" I said

"We can fix this why don't you come to my training sessions a few days a week that way you can get out the house and maybe I can ask the guys to get you in contact with their partners so you can start to make some friends and I'll help you all I can to get your course done so you can get a job well do this together I promise" He said

"Thank you Jude that means a lot I should've told you how I felt before now but I just didn't want to be a burden you have a lot going on you didn't need more on your plate especially silly problems like me having no friends" I said

"You will never be a burden and none of your problems are stupid but just remember I will always be a friend if you need me to be and so will my family so you are never alone" he said

There was nothing more to say so I let myself move into Jude's embrace and he just held me whispering apologies in my ear until I kissed him to shut him up. He kissed me a couple times before picking me up and carrying me to our bedroom where he left me for a few minutes to go and get some of the brownies I made and they even had ice cream with them which he said he ordered before he came upstairs to talk to me. That little gesture albeit silly really made me smile as it shows he does listen to me and he does care about me.

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham #football imagine

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starboye · 3 months ago

Text

starring: matt sturniolo x male reader

request: matt sturniolo helping reader wax his hole,matt doesn’t know how he got into this situation but reader came up to him asking for a HUGE favor and matt ofc said yes but he didn’t expect to see laying down with his back arched and holding his juicy cheeks open so matt can wax his hole… after matt finishes he can’t help but get turned on at the sight of his hole and rubs him thumb over it and matt leans down and starts eating readers hole and his hands are just jiggling his cheeks and after a while of eating reader ass he pulls his pants down and fucks him and cums on his ass cheeks and after that he jiggles readers ass cheeks with his cum just sitting on those juicy ass cheeks (ps matt and reader had some previous hookups, fwb kind of thing)

warnings: smut, waxing ass hole?, fingering, ass eating, backshots, cursing

do either of you really remember how you got in this situation? no. you had came to matt with a huge task at hand that you sadly couldn't get done on your own or you wouldn't have asked matt for help, you had asked for his help waxing you hole... i know it's embarrassing as hell but if you could get anyone else to do it you would but matt is the only person around right now since he was the first to arrive at your house for a video you were supposed to be filming later.

nick and chris saying they wouldn't be able to make it till later so now here you were arched on your bed twitching as you waited for matt to apply the hot wax "well this brings back memories" matt smirks mixing the wax to get any clumps out "yeah it sure does" you chuckle "why not revisit those memories" matt tempts but you stop him "how about not, i just need your help with this one things, and plus those were only a couple late night hookups" you sternly say "fine" matt rolls his eyes.

he slowly applies the wax across your hole as you hold your ass apart to not burn them by accident, you both sit in silence for some time as you wait for the wax to dry, the wax dries and matts slowly peels it off your hole, looking at the smooth result that's left "how does it look" you ask looking back "it looks pretty good, I might just have a future in waxing" matt chuckle shallowly as he stares down at your puckering hole, feeling a boner grow in his pants.

"well thanks for the help" you say leaning to get up but suddenly matt pushes you back into the bed and starts eating you out, his tongue lapping and hungrily tonguing at your smooth ass "fuck- matt wait" you try to stop him but he doesn't budge "just a taste" matt mutters holding your ass apart to get deeper, jiggling them in his hands making him even harder till his dick was aching to be let out of the confines of his sweatpants.

you moaning out trying to stop matt but soon running your fingers through his hair to pull his head harder into your ass, silently begging him to go faster. he begins running his finger over your hole as he eats you out, creating even more pleasure as he fingers you "fuck me matt" you shudder "what was that y/n" matt teases as if he didn't already hear you "please... please fuck me" you say "say less" matt jumps at your words and stands.

looking down at your smooth stretched hole as he lowers his pants, you whimper at the sight of his cock being let out "fuck I've wanted to do this since I got here" he admits spitting on his dick and rubbing it in before angling it up with you "then don't be shy" you taunt slightly jiggling your ass "for this hole never" he scoffs pushing in his dick, his tip stretching you apart so well making you moan out while gripping the bed sheets while matt groans out quickly moving to hold your waist in place.

"I forgot how good this hole felt, it's been a minute since we hooked up" matt chuckles moving his hips at a medium pace " then you should remember how I like it" you hint "and how would that be" matt asks "deep and hard" you say backing your ass onto him "well all you had to do was ask" matt rolls his eyes and starts fucking into you harder.

a mix of plaps and moans filling the luckily empty house, matts hips harshly smacking against your ass making it even harder for you to stop yourself from cumming, quickly moving your hand to jerk off "I remember the days where I could make you cum from just my fingers" matt laughs watching you desperately try to reach your high "how about we recreate that sometime" he leans down to whisper in your ear, caressing your sides slowly "how about not" you say making matt a little madder.

like why wouldn't you want to get back with him, he knows it was a friend with benefits situation but he still absolutely adored your late night calls begging him to come by your place to fuck you because you couldn't sleep and he would never disappoint, always quickly making it to your place to dick you down in all the best ways till one day you decided to cut him off since you got a boyfriend but now with no boyfriend and an apartment all to yourself matts thinking he could feel that empty space in your life and in your hole simultaneously but back to matt fucking you like he's needed this for months.

"y'know I haven't been able to properly get off without thinking of you" matt admits but you to deep in pleasure to reply "mhm right there" you moan tightening the grip around your cock feeling your climax quickly approaching before cumming all over your bed with a loud moan "well would you look at that already cumming for me" matt says "don't flatter yourself pretty boy" you retort "fuck" matt mutters feeling himself about to cum, he knows you love when he empties his cum in you but with a chance like this to tease you he couldn't pass it up.

quickly pulling out of you to jerk off and spray his load all over your luscious ass with some moans from him filling the room, you whip your head around at the feeling "you know I like it inside me" you agitatedly say "oh do you I don't t remember that" matt pants with a smug look on his face "fuck you" you say "well i mean if you want a load in you 8 could arrange that" matt says jiggling your ass to watch the cum slowly wake it's way over your back while he slaps his cock over your wet hole "fine but this doesn't mean we're doing this again" you sternly say "sure it doesn't baby" matt says sliding back into you

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @kadenvatsune @fuckshft

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x male reader #matt sturniolo x reader #x male reader #gay smut #x male smut #x male y/n #x male #bottom male reader #gay #male reader #matthew sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x male reader

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daughter-of-sapph0 · 10 months ago

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I said it before in a previous rant, but I feel like this story needs repeating for no particular reason whatsoever.

my middle school was very small. there was only one class of 18 kids in the entire 6th grade. we had to deal with each other every single day. I only started this school in 6th grade, but some of these kids have known each other since pre-k. so when I joined, I was a stranger, an outcast, someone different. and having undiagnosed autism did not help at all.

one of my classmates was named Jacob. he was the only kid shorter than me. but he was an aggressive bully. every day, he'd grab me, slap me, pull my hair. he'd torment me physically, call me names, the whole shebang. typical bully stuff. there was never a reason for this, other than I was a new kid. I was a faggot. I was a downey. I was a retard. I was a sissy. I was a pussy. I was "the other". I think Jacob somehow knew I was trans and queer about five years before I did, and treated me as you'd expect.

every single day, I'd complain to my teachers and the principal. "Jacob is bullying me. he's hitting me, calling me names, harassing me, even after I tell him to leave me alone". and the responses I got did not help.

"just leave. walk away" gee, thanks. I'd love to. unfortunately I'm stuck in a classroom with him all day. unless you're gonna let me go home early, your advice is worthless.

"stop being a tattletale" and just let him continue to bully me? wow, thanks for being a supportive adult figure in my life...

and I'll never forget what my hardcore conservative catholic principal said to me. "if you don't want him to call you a faggot, then stop being a faggot".

in all of these situations of begging for help, not once did Jacob ever face consequences for his actions. even when I showed them the bruises and horrible notes he gave me. even when the harassment happened right in front of the teachers. the most he would ever receive is "hey, both of you, stop fighting!" even though it was always one sided and I never fought back.

until one day on the bus. he was in the seat behind me, poking my head, slapping me, trying to get my attention. I was already pissed that day, and Jacob was only making things worse. I told him to stop. repeatedly. to just leave me alone. but he didn't.

without thinking about it, I tried to swat away his hands. but I ended up brushing my hand against his face. he interpreted this as a slap. he immediately got off the bus at his stop and ran home crying.

that afternoon, my mom got a phone call saying that I was at risk of being expelled. apparently, Jacob had told his parents that I had beat him up, and his parents called the school.

in the end, because of my accidental unintentional "slap" that I had only done because I was angry and wanted to be left alone and stop being bullied, I was suspended for a week, forced to write a handwritten apology note to Jacob, and fell behind in my classes.

Jacob was never punished. he never faced consequences for his actions. he was always seen as the victim by adults. I was the aggressor since I was mad and complained about being bullied.

soon after this, I attempted suicide. I backed out, thankfully. but I can't stop thinking about how my life almost ended because no one cared about the harassment I faced.

being harassed, and having no one do anything about it, which causes you to get angry until you act a tiny bit irrational and upset, and suddenly you're punished much harder than your attackers ever were and ever will be.

I'm saying this for no reason at all. it totally doesn't apply to any real life situations happening right now on tumblr.

#dostxt

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eternalmoonlight18 · 4 months ago

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Please please Shanks or Law taking care of sick!reader

Ouuuu I always wanted to do headcanons based on sick!reader!

Law and Shanks Taking Care of You When You're Sick

GN!Reader x Trafalgar Law and GN!Reader x Akagami no Shanks (pre-established relationship)

SFW!

Your immune system is usually strong, so you usually don't get sick

But one day, you suddenly fell ill, like super SUPER ill and you're bedridden

But you don't let the others find out, and everyone thinks that you're sleeping.

But once the crew finds out you're down with a sickness for the first time they freak out and tell their captains.

Trafalgar Law

Once he's alerted that you're down with illness, he heads straight to your room

He's pissed that you didn't say anything to him but he couldn't stay mad once he saw how sick you really were

He's a doctor so of course he knows what to do! He comes back to your room with a blood pressure monitor, thermometer, and an IV

Yeah he kind of goes overboard

But I think he would have an innate fear of his loved one getting sick or ill because of what happened to his family and friends with the White Lead disease and it triggers him

So he does everything under his power to make sure you're okay

"Hold still I'm trying to take your blood pressure"

"Law, this is fourth time you've done this in the last hour"

He would make sure that you're well fed with hot soup

Makes sure that you're taking your medication even though they taste terrible

"I don't want to take it"

"(Y/n)-ya, I will literally cut you in half and place that pill directly in your stomach so help me God"

He would refuse to leave your side and will sleep on a chair next to you

Will make sure that you're hydrated

Expect a 2-litre jug of water in your room and he will make you finish one a day until you better or else he threatens to hook you up to an IV

"How many times did you pee today? If you pee a lot it means you drank a lot of water which will help you recover"

"Uh I didn't go yet"

"You have 1 minute to drink 1 litre of water or else I'm hooking you up to this IV right now"

Once you're better he will force you to do checkups with him every month from now on

"I hate the infirmary I refuse to do monthly checkups. Also, isn't supposed to be annual?"

"I don't trust your immune system anymore"

He may be overbearing and too much but that's because he loves you very much and hates to see you sick <3

Akagami no Shanks

The man beelines it to your room as soon as Benn alerts him that you're down with an illness

He starts freaking out because he thinks you're dying because you've never been sick before until now

"Omg please don't die yet we have to get married first"

"Shanks, darling, I just have a flu"

Y'all know that scene where Luffy tries to make Nami feel better on Drum Island when she was sick and he makes a silly face

Yeah, Shanks does the same thing

His face is scribbled with blank ink and his hair is tied up into two ponytails as he tries to make you laugh. Hongo walks in on him and accidentally stabs Shanks with one of his needles in shock

While Hongo does the actual healing since he's the doctor, Shanks tries his best to assist him even though he was no help

"Captain can you not use my stethoscope on their asscheeks please"

"Sorry I was trying to see if I could hear their heartbeat from there"

Shanks would try to cook soup for you but for some reason it tasted like beer

"Is it delicious? I tried to make soup for you so you'd feel better!"

"Why does it taste like beer? And is that a dead fly?"

While you're sleeping, he'd put cold damp towels on your forehead and change them every hour on the dot

Shanks will also refuse to leave your side as well. He will be glued next to you until you got better

He'd give lots of forehead kisses and will cuddle with you, much to your dismay

"Honey, it's getting too hot"

"I know, it's cause I'm here"

"No you loveable idiot you're hugging me too tight, let me go before I cough on your face"

Once you're fully recovered the man is stuck to you like velcro and smothers you with his love and kisses

"Shanks stop it you're going to make me sick with all of your germs!"

"Then let's both get sick!"

He may be clueless but he does his best to take care of you because he loves you <3

------

LOL this was fun to write

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cherry-leclerc · 10 months ago

Text

i hate you. i hate you? ☆ cs55

genre: humor, fluff, love confessions, childhood friends to enemies/rivals to lovers (damn, tongue twister), maybe a bit angsty (don't worry too much about it though, lol), flashbacks that add to a tiny slow-burn

word count: 3.5k

The dwindling friendship that comes crashing down when you get offered the opportunity of a lifetime. Leading to a bumpy road with your best friend.

req!... i swear that when i put angst ITS NOT BAD. anyways, enjoy, anons!

Me encantaría formar parte del equipo, you muse whimsically, pigtails flying against the winter breeze. Sería un sueño hecho realidad.

Despite being young, you knew you were different— came from a divergent background compared to those around you. Your family definitely didn’t have the resources to fulfill your dream to kart or race professionally. You partially blame your brothers for getting you into the sport.

Si. Lo sería, a particular Spaniard, agrees. You smile. Your parents share a pitiful glance before sitting you down. It wasn’t going to happen, not because they didn’t want to but simply because they couldn’t afford such an expensive hobby that would probably kick you in the butt.

That’s where your first guardian angel appeared. Carlos Sainz Sr. Better known as your best friend's father. Without a doubt, he offers to sponsor you, for he grew keen on having you around, enjoying time by the pool with his two girls and shy son.

Was there a way you could ever thank him? No, not really— nothing would ever cover all he’s ever done for you, but you’d make sure to try your best to find a way. Even if it took you a lifetime.

“You’ve known her for a lifetime! Probably five, for all we know!” Lando yelps, running a hand through his curls. “You can’t just call it quits on your friendship just like…” He snaps his fingers.

Carlos shrugs. He fills up a styrofoam cup of coffee, silently offering one to his moody friend. The Brit rolls his colorful eyes. You’re making a mistake, he presses. It’s the Spaniards turn to grow serious.

“Por favor—she should have thought about that before she stole my seat.”

That, you did. It wasn’t an easy decision to make. It could have never been, even if you had been warned. But suddenly you were getting an opportunity, the kind you only ever dreamt of. Carlos would be fine, he was a man who would eventually have a pile of teams interested in keeping him around. You, on the other hand, were surprised that anyone was even intrigued in having you form a part of their F1 team, much less— Ferrari.

This was it, and you had to grab at the opportunity. You just never imagined losing a friend along the way.

Why would you even consider accepting? You flinch and he’s looking as if he regrets it, so you give him the benefit of the doubt.

I know this isn’t what we were expecting, but think of it this way. I'd be coming in 2025 and you would already be too busy preparing to join Audi! It’ll work out. You’re still doing that, right? You knew he was, he had been so excited and told you as soon as he found out. Audi was in his blood.

He runs a large hand through his tangled hair, sighing. Still. You have to say no. You can’t do that to me. It’d be embarrassing.

Your shoulders drop an inch. Why? Because you’re being bought out or because a woman is keeping your seat? His silence is enough for your heart to break and for your mind to be made up.

I’m signing.

There is indignation, and then there is you.

“You are such a—argh!” Pounding your fists against the locked door, you reach out to briskly twist the knob, trying your best to get out of the cramped room. The world was spinning, and you could feel a migraine rolling in strongly, but you swore—swore—you would kill him as soon as you got your hands on him.

The morning had started off fairly simple. Show up, run a few tests on the stimulator, get to know a few of the mechanics you’d be working with, and finally, sign your contract. You had waited longer than intended, due to minor changes you had suggested, so you were extremely ready to get it done. This was supposed to be your day.

That is until the grumpy Spaniard pushed you, locked you in, and ran off before you had a chance to register what was going on. Fred had been adamant—show up on time. The next time he would be available would not be until three weeks, and that was ridiculously long if anyone were to ask. Carlos knew that.

Charles hums slowly, munching on a pack of M&M's when he hears the spine-chilling scream you let out, wood vibrating as you punch angrily. Hurrying over, he unlocks it from the outside, surprised by your appearance. Your hair is tussled, face is blotchy, vein throbbing. It’s definitely a sight to say the least. He mentions something about —he went that way— and —think about what you’re going to do— but you’re off before you settle with any of it.

The twists and turns make your head hurt, practically seeing red before you come to a halt. Smiling sophisticatedly, Carlos is sat, legs crossed, fingers pointing to his watch. No. “News for you, my dear friend; Fred just left.” The Spaniard winces playfully, already making his way out the door. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Charles was right. You should have thought about what you would do. Jumping onto his large back, your flimsy hands dig into the forest he calls hair, and pull. He screeches, swaying from side to side as he hurriedly tries to disconnect your legs from around his waist. Let go, he groans harder when you pinch his arm.

“Why? Why did you do this—any of this?” At this point you’re kicking and screaming, panting, heaving. “Is it really that difficult to accept it? You lost. I’m in, you’re out.”

“At least we know she’s a fighter.”

Coming to a sudden stop, your eyes flicker to the familiar voice, instantly burning up. Fred taps his foot gingerly against the white tiles, an amused Monegasque standing right behind him. Jumping off of the sulky brunette, you begin to shake your head in disbelief, pointing towards the exit. “N-no…you’re supposed to be gone. He…” Then it hits you. This was a fucking set up.

“While I’m evenly impressed by your toughness, I will say, I think we should put a hold on signing.” Your stomach drops. The older man quickly waves his hands in dismissal, grinning apologetically. “We still want you! Nothing has changed, but I think it’s for the best that you fix things with Carlos before doing so. It’ll be good for you two.” With that, he bows his head, and strolls away, heading for the airport.

“I’m out too,” Charles whispered, slowly stepping back. “Fill me in on what happens, though!”

As soon as your breath evens out—and Carlos creates a safe distance between you two—you let out a deranged chuckle. He almost cringes at the cold sound, but keeps his chin up high. “You did this all on purpose?” It’s a question but comes out more like a confirmation, which in a way, it was. Shutting your eyes, you tilt your head with a ghostly smile. “You knew he hadn’t left and let me make a fool out of myself. Why would you do that?” you grit, orbs laser focused on him as if you could light him up into flames if you really set your mind to it.

“Why would I not?” he stubbornly spits back.

“You asshole, I’m just trying to make your dad proud.”

A pinch of guilt dives deep into his veins as he watches you stomp down the hallway, mindlessly tugging at his heart.

I say we let him burn, Ana pitches the idea, laying flat on her bed as you scoff with a knowing smile.

Does it make me a bad person if I don’t disagree with you?

She sits up, eyeing where you calmly paint down on a canvas. She squints her eyes. “What even is that?” Holding your art with pride, you shoot a sheepish smile. Nice, huh? The Spaniard’s youngest sister giggles, nose scrunching up at the dark sight. “I’m confused—is he supposed to look like that?”

You curl an analytical brow, shooting a quick snarl. “I think it’s pretty good. And yes. He’s supposed to be getting run over by my future car. What a sight.” You dramatically swoon.

Ana drops her stare, focusing instead with a teasing curl gripping the corner of her lips. “Remember when instead of plotting his death, you’d be fantasizing about a life with him? God, I could still remember all the hearts—the glitter.” She shudders, faintly recalling the mess in her room, which led to Reyes giving you both a good scolding, but not before winking at a red-faced you.

Looking away feverishly, you shake your head, picking up the flimsy paint brush once again, never once bothering to make eye contact with her. “I was young. Stupid as shit. I can’t even remember what I loved about him.”

“Liked,” she corrects you.

You cough. “Right. Liked.”

If the Spaniard took the time to sit down, roll through a philosophical journey, wonder where things might have changed for him—it would have saved him enduring a puddle of dreadfulness at this very moment.

Ana’s wedding. The first of his sisters who would get married. It was a bittersweet day, and not just because she was finally leaving the family nest. “Who is she…” he can hear himself ask. Almost demand. The brunette smirks, slightly pleased.

“My best friend. You’re nemesis,” she jokes.

Carlos growls slowly, lightly pinching her cheek as she yelps. “With. You know what I mean.”

“Lalo. She met him a few weeks ago. Very nice guy.” A beat. “Please don’t ruin my wedding.”

But he’s not even listening. Brown eyes follow to where you stand straight, arms crossed over your body like a shield. He always knew you’d been self-conscious, but never understood why. You were stunning. Lavender dress hugs your curves beautifully. A trace of honey fills any area you fall into. Your hair is nicely pinned up, allowing him to enjoy your silky skin.

And it seems like Lalo too.

Rubbing a large hand against his smooth jaw—which was only neat since Reyes had hounded him to fix his appearance for his sister’s big day—he smoothly made his way over. Rupert warns the Spanirad with his eyes, but Carlos scoffs. Did everyone think he had something up his sleeve?

“Enjoying yourselves?”

Mid-sip, your face freezes, doe-eyes flickering between Lalo, then Carlos. Then Carlos, then Lalo. God, when did the room begin to boil? Your voice gets caught in your throat, to make matters worse. Carlos’ personal trainer pity’s you for a split second, deciding to help out. “The drinks are stellar, mate. We’ve been hogging the bar for so long at this point.”

The brown eyed boy studies your so-called date, faking a cold smile. “You don’t say…Carlos, by the way,” he says, extending his arm out. “Remind me of your name again, sorry, she’s just never mentioned you before. At all, really. I apologize.”

“That’s okay, we only just met a few weeks ago. We’re taking it slow.” We’re. The word itself makes the 29 year old fear he might puke right then and there. “Eduardo, but you can call me Lalo. Huge fan.”

“Mines or hers?” Carlos bitterly questions, thick lips forming a straight line. Lalo awkwardly clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, pulling away and leaning in to hold you close.

“Guess it’s my turn to apologize now. Hers. Always. But you’re pretty cool, too, I suppose.” His voice is light, unbothered. It makes Carlos tick furiously, though he doesn’t dare show it. You can’t pinpoint the moment tension rose up, snapping you out of your trance. Blinking hastily, you aim a sour snarl at the Spaniard.

“We were sort of having a good time, so…” You shoo him away with a jeweled hand. “I just don’t want to kill the vibes. You understand, right?” Barely giving him a chance to respond, you turn back to your conversation, leaving Lalo and Rupert to appear puzzled, but stupidly playing along.

With a raw click of the tongue, the 29 year old takes a step forward, leveling down to your ear. “Pretend all you want, but you’re still wearing my initials around that pretty wrist of yours.” And walks away.

It was true. Your parents had gifted you a lucky charm bracelet for your fourteenth birthday, and Carlos greedily beat everyone to it. A car, for your love for Formula One. A chili, a shy thank you for his nickname. An ice cream, well, because you just loved ice cream. And a cursive CS. For him.

Watching him walk away left you with a hole in your heart. You did not need a reminder like that on a day like this. Wearing it was purely out of habit, it had no meaning to it anymore. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. The need to use the restroom was a complete lie as you wordlessly peek for the broad Spaniard. You spot his glossy shoes first, sticking out the photo booth.

“Scoot,” you say, gently cramming him in deeper. Once you get situated, you slide the silver charm off, handing it over to him. “Here.”

He furrows his dark brows. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want anything tying me back to you anymore. It was kind—sweet—but that was past you. You’re cruel, mean, rude, a fucking jerk now. I don’t like that, so— here.”

“I don’t want it,” he retorts, curling your flat hand into a fist, forcing you to hold it tight.

“Well I don’t either, so what is there to do? You know what; I’ll just sell it. It’s not even that significant,” you mumble, already making your way out, but not before he hauls you back. Falling straight onto his thigh. You can feel your pulse quicken, your cheeks tingle, and your eyes suddenly burn. “Let me go,” you squeal, trying your best to weasel out of his grip. He groans, placing a large hand on either side of your hips, pushing you down.

“No. Just listen to me first.” Sighing, you nod. You should be climbing off; there’s room for two. He should be pushing you off; there’s room for two. But none of that happens as he clears his throat, rehearsing his words over and over before you raise a neat brow, waiting for him. “Perdón. Por todo.”

Not what you were expecting and he could tell when you let out a small gasp. Nervously, he licks his lips, admiring your plump ones that don’t lay too far off from his own. “I used to be so proud of you when we were just kids. When you first admitted you wanted to race too. It was adorable, the way your eyes lit up.” Your breath deepens, unknowing of what this was leading to. “But I’ve always been proud. That’s never changed.”

“You’re a terrific liar,” you timidly chuckle, patting his shoulder, making him back off a little. But he only ricochets forward, twice as close. Your insides churn.

“You don’t know how fucking happy I was when you got a seat. Over the moon. But I won’t lie; I was hurt and said some shitty things that have no excuse tied to them. I know I hurt you—I know that now. But that feeling vanished when worry came creeping in. I don’t want you to sign that contract.”

You flinch, reality crashing down on you once again as you examine the Ferrari driver. “Why apologize if you haven’t changed? My feelings aren’t a joke,” you whimper pathetically, tears sliding down your cheeks, soft brows drawn together.

He panics, gingerly brushing them away to the best of his ability and you don’t have the power to fight him off anymore. You’re too busy getting your heart broken once again by the same man.

She’s beautiful. Insanely—it’s insane. Her eyes are a shade of green I’d never thought I’d like.

I once wore a shade of green shorts last summer and you called them ugly. Said it looked like vomit.

Carlos sighs dreamily, dominantly shaking his head.

Well crap. I must’ve changed my mind.

Present him, was taking in your frantic sobs and he doesn’t know how else to calm you if it's not by rubbing your back gently. It takes a while, but you eventually ease up, occasionally letting out a shaky breath. “First of all, let me tell you why I did everything within me for you not to sign. It’s no good.”

You tilt your head in confusion, nose runny as he hands you his handkerchief. “I-I’m confused.”

Carlos chuckles. “What was the one thing I would always complain to you about when I was away racing?” Lack of privacy? “Okay, second thing I raved about…” When you don’t answer, he sheepishly wiggles his brows. “How tired I was with my team. It’s exhausting because like it or not—we’re not at our prime. I don’t think we will be for a couple of years. But for my benefit, I’ll be gone, and then it’s only going to fall on-”

“Me,” you finish, glossy eyes dancing through his painful expression.

He nods. “Listen, Charles will be fine. Mentally not, but he’ll do just okay. It’s you I’m worried about. Not only will you dive in, nose first into a world of ruthless men, but you’ll always be the entire blame. In their eyes, it'll be you. What did you do wrong? How could you fuck up? And sure, you might sometimes—it's inevitable— but other times you won’t. But you’re a girl, and that’s enough for the fingers to be pointed at you.”

Shaking your head profusely, you instantly reach up to catch your hair from falling from its tiring up-do. He helps you out, combing his fingers nicely, though this time it doesn’t get rid of the queasy feeling. He was right. God, why did he have to be right?

“I’m well aware of what I’m about to get myself into. But I think I can handle it. I can’t not do it—imagine how many girls it would help pave the way for? I’m sure as fuck it won’t be easy, and it might threaten my sanity, but I need to do this. And I’m sorry.”

An unfamiliar wave crashes against his warm eyes, a low breath being expanded into the air. You can feel it, taste it. Mint mojito. Your body told you, you liked it, with the way you wanted to lean in and kiss him—just to confirm. Pursing your lips, you continue. “You have your future decided and I have mine.”

With a hesitant bow, and a tide of curls flying forward, he clears his throat. “You’ve always been this way. Dedicated. And I could never decipher why. Until now.” He can’t help but brush his nose against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, allowing him to appreciate your pretty features. “If you’re sure, then I’m right behind you.”

You almost want to laugh, but are too scared to ruin the moment, so instead count his freckles. “I am…” A sharp inhale. “But what’s the second thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said ‘first of all’. I would assume there’s more…” You know there is, but you just want to hear him say it aloud. You’d seen the way he glared viciously at Lalo, chest firming. You’d seen the way things had shifted between you two, months prior, after his break up.

If this racing thing doesn’t work out, you would make a killer artist. He whistles.

Down boy, you joke. It’s just a swan. I resonate with them.

He sits up straighter. Then consider me a swan, too.

You laugh loudly, tossing your head back as he smiles. Why all of a sudden?

Just.

“It took me a while to get here, but I’m here.” He cradles your delicate face. “I think I love you. I-I mean I know I love you. Your stubbornness, your compliance. Your level-headedness, your intrusive actions. Your need to persevere and be better—even if others make it hard on you.” You giggle, poking his chest. “But above all, I love the way you made me work for it. I’m glad you did because how else could I have realized if you didn’t drag that dead-beat?”

“Hey! He’s nice!”

The 29 year old tsks. “Nice isn’t enough and you know it.” His pink lips graze over yours as you lean in too. “You’ve always been a smart girl…” He’s about to kiss you when you slide back, leaving him hanging. He clenches his jaw, seeming teased.

“I love swans because I know I can love as deep as one.”

“I can too.”

“And I know, you know, that I love you too.”

“I do know that.”

“And I lit you up on fire, but only on paper!”

His brows furrow. “Yeah, we can circle back to that. But I don’t care. I love all that about you. And I want you to know my father has always been proud of you.” He winks. “But never as much as me.”

“We’re doing this then?” you ask nervously. “Y-you’re still going to have to grovel. I don’t give up that easily. Especially after all you’ve put me through.”

Carlos gently nods, eyes adoring you. “I’ve waited more than a decade for this moment. What’s one more?”

And he kisses you.

taglist: @urfavnoirette @lpab @d3kstar @namgification @myownwritings

*feel free to let me know if you would like to be included in the general taglist!!

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virgoilluminati · 5 months ago

Text

Hospitality at its Finest

a Jude Bellingham oneshot

Inspo: Basically i have the shittiest job ever, and the only thing that got me through it was thinking about how jude would comfort me at the end of a long shift. I feel like a lot of you gurlies can relate so enjoy ☺️

You had had the worst day.

Probably the worst day you'd had in years

And the only person you could blame was your boss.

He was an A grade arsehole. He only cared about how much money your restaurant made. How it made him look in front of the restaurant owners.

He didn't care about your feelings, how crying had become a normal part of the shift or how every time he walked in, your stomach tied in knots.

Today was an exemplar of it.

At the beginning of the shift, everything was fairly normal. You were supposed to start at 12pm, but you had come in early, caring for your colleagues and knowing that they would need the extra staff for the new delivery. As you mentally prepared yourself for the shift, you started putting away the new stock and organizing the kitchen.

Quickly looking at your phone one last time, you clocked into work before admiring your lock screen with Jude. After all, all of this was for your future.

As you made your way to the shop floor, it was dead silent. So silent that you knew the second you opened the door in the backroom, you'd be greeted with a mess. But you didn't expect what you were greeted with. Stacks of dishes towered precariously, remnants of ingredients sprawled across counters, and an unmistakable odor of burnt food lingered heavily in the air.

Your closest colleague Haley was on the ground, covered by stock boxes. When she see's you walk in, she smiles, but the exhaustion in her eyes betrays her forced cheerfulness. Without wasting a moment, you rush to help her up, setting the boxes aside.

"Wha-"

"Don't ask. It's Jamie. He overestimated our multitasking skills again. We could use all the help we can get right now."

You nod, taking in the chaotic scene. Rolling up your sleeves, you dive into the mess, prioritizing tasks in your head.

The second the doors to your restaurant opened, a wave of eager customers flooded in, adding to the already hefty workload. You had only just made your way out of the heavy stock room before you were serving your first customer, your manager already shaking his head.

You grabbed a notepad, scribbling down order after order with precision. As you do such, you realise that no one has set up back of house, and whilst everyone was dealing with the stock, you'd be doing both positions, already.

Oh gawd it was going to be a long day.

The next issues happened just after the lunchtime peak. Your manager—ever the perfectionist—decided to go out and back home to get changed. He didn’t tell any of you, just putting your colleague Hetty in charge.

Now, for all of the reasons you loved Hetty, she was a terrible team leader. She spent half of the time bossing everyone around, whilst the other half chatting and gossiping about the managers. So when you realized that she was in charge, you knew it was going to turn sideways.

What made it even worse was halfway through the shift you suddenly got cramps. It could only mean one thing: your period.

You knew better than to miss your orders, so you managed to deal with the cramps and act normal. But as soon as anyone’s order was mentioned, you gritted your teeth. Deep down, you could feel your cramps churning up. But you managed to keep your cool. Or at least until Hetty began barking orders at you, telling you that while you were making a cheesecake, you also needed to clean the station, get the ice cream ready for service, and get the lunch menu ready that was just coming out.

Needless to say, you didn’t really listen to her orders, instead focusing on the four cheesecakes you needed to bake, twenty lusty turkeys, and the rest of your workload that’s coming in. You’d maybe gotten halfway done with the orders when suddenly your stomach muscles tightened and spasmed at the same time. It hurt to breathe in, so you tried to breathe in as slowly as possible, praying to God that the next person who insulted you would take it back as soon as they said it.

Now, you’re screwed, because between the pain in your stomach and the pressure from the customers, it was overwhelming. To make matters even worse, your restaurant owner Jiah, a certified misogynist, stood next to you as you prepared each of the dishes. Every mistake you made, or anything you said to Hetty, was being monitored. At first, it was fine—still stressful, but you were so preoccupied that you didn’t care. Until you accidentally spilled three of your cheesecakes on the ground.

Every time someone shouted at you, it felt like someone was digging into your sides. Your vision blurred slightly as you bent down to clean up the mess. As you rose, you saw Jiah’s disapproving glare. You braced yourself, knowing a reprimand was imminent.

“Do you even know how much those cheesecakes cost?” Jiah hissed, his face reddening.

"Sorry-"

You nodded, biting your tongue to keep from snapping back. Losing your temper wouldn’t help anything, especially not with Jiah watching your every move. Taking a deep breath, you focused on the tasks at hand, prioritizing the most urgent ones. Hetty’s voice cut through the noise of the kitchen, but you tuned her out as best you could. There was no time to waste arguing with her or explaining why you couldn’t drop everything to clean the station right this second.

The cramps were relentless, and you clutched your stomach briefly, willing the pain to subside. A few of your colleagues noticed and offered sympathetic looks, but they were just as swamped as you were. It was clear that everyone was feeling the strain of the lunchtime rush.

You managed to get the cheesecakes into the oven and started on the turkeys. The repetitive motions of seasoning and prepping gave you a momentary distraction from the pain. But it wasn’t long before Hetty was back, barking orders again.

“You still haven’t cleaned the station! And where’s the ice cream?” she demanded.

“Working on it,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. But the frustration was building, and you could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You blinked them back, determined not to let anyone see you break down.

Finally, a small reprieve: the cheesecakes were done, and you could focus on plating the desserts and getting them out to the customers. But just as you thought you might be able to catch your breath, Jiah appeared again. He didn’t say anything, but his disapproving glare spoke volumes.

You could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move. When you accidentally spilled three of your cheesecakes on the ground, Jiah’s look was withering. He didn’t need to say a word; his expression made it clear he was counting this as yet another mark against you.

“Get it together,” you heard him mutter under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear. You nodded, biting your tongue to keep from snapping back. Losing your temper wouldn’t help anything, especially not with Jiah watching your every move.

Taking a deep breath, you focused on the tasks at hand, prioritizing the most urgent ones. Hetty’s voice cut through the noise of the kitchen, but you tuned her out as best you could. There was no time to waste arguing with her or explaining why you couldn’t drop everything to clean the station right this second.

Just as it began to calm down again, Jiah's glare disappearing from notion, Hetty came over to apologize for being stressy.

"Sorry for earlier," she said, her tone uncharacteristically soft. "I know I was a bit much."

You accepted her apology with a nod. "It's okay. We were all under a lot of pressure. I was just about to go to the toilet."

Before you could make your way to the restroom, a call came through the kitchen, telling everyone to gather in the staff room. You tried to hold yourself together, though you could feel tears threatening to flow. The cramps were still gnawing at your insides, and the stress of the day had worn you thin.

As you and the rest of the staff assembled in the cramped room, the air was thick with apprehension. Jamie, another manager, stormed in, his face a mask of fury. He didn't waste a second before launching into a tirade.

"I just got a bollocking from the owner! What the hell happened here?" he bellowed. "This is so embarrassing! We've had multiple complaints from customers, dishes sent back, and unacceptable delays. This is not the standard we uphold here!"

His words were like blows, each one landing heavily. You stood there, silent and still, trying to absorb it all without breaking down. The cramps were relentless, making it hard to concentrate on anything other than the pain.

For about forty minutes, Jamie continued his verbal assault, highlighting every mistake and misstep. You could feel the tension in the room, everyone too afraid to speak or move. As he yelled, you just stood there, taking it in, feeling smaller and more defeated with every passing second.

"This has to stop now," Jamie continued, his voice growing louder. "I expect better from all of you. No more excuses. The owner is furious, and honestly, I can't blame him. Today was a disaster!"

With that, he stormed out, leaving the staff in stunned silence. You could feel the tears threatening to spill over, but you fought to keep them at bay. The pain in your stomach and the weight of Jamie's words were almost too much to bear.

Hetty gave you a sympathetic look but didn't say anything. Everyone slowly dispersed, heading back to their stations or taking a moment to collect themselves. You made a beeline for the restroom, finally letting the tears flow once you were safely behind the closed door.

Just as you began to take a couple of minutes to calm down, Jamie pulled you over.

"Hey, I need to ask you something," he said, his tone softer but still urgent. "Are you willing to leave early today?"

You had already had to cut a shift recently, and your hours were pretty low. "I really need the hours, Jamie. I'd prefer to stay."

He frowned. "I need to get rid of some staff because there's too many on right now."

You tried to politely refuse again, but before you could finish, he called out, "Hayley! Do you want to leave early?"

"Sure," Hayley replied without hesitation.

"See, it's not personal," Jamie said, turning back to you. Feeling completely deflated, you turned to get your stuff and clock out.

As you gathered your things, Jamie turned to you one more time. "By the way, you sat down too much today."

You were gobsmacked. "I didn't sit down at all."

"No, you were," he insisted. "And that's not acceptable."

You went to protest again, but he cut you off. "No, you were, and that's not acceptable."

Feeling a mix of frustration, exhaustion, and defeat, you bit back any further response. As you clocked out and walked out of the restaurant, you felt the tears begin to well up again.

By the time you got on the bus, the tears were streaming down your face. You found a seat at the back, hoping no one would notice as you buried your face in your hands and sobbed. The day's events replayed in your mind: the stress, the pain, the unfairness of it all. It felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on you, and you couldn't hold it in any longer.

As the bus moved through the city streets, you cried, letting out all the frustration and sorrow. You knew you had to face another day tomorrow, but for now, all you could do was let yourself feel the pain and hope that somehow, things would get better.

When you arrived home, you tried to wipe away your tears, determined to put on a brave face for Jude Bellingham, who had just returned from football camp. You were emotionally drained but wanted to be supportive and positive for him.

As you walked through the door, Jude was in the kitchen, looking relaxed and cheerful. He noticed your subdued demeanor but decided to wait before saying anything.

"Hey, how was work?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

"It was... busy," you replied, forcing a smile. "But let’s not focus on that. How was camp?"

Jude’s face lit up as he started recounting his experiences. "Camp was fantastic! We had some intense training sessions and a lot of fun. You won’t believe the prank Trent and I pulled on the new guys. We got them to believe they had to complete this ridiculous obstacle course to join the team."

He continued with animated enthusiasm, "And then there was the friendly match against a local team. Trent and I were trying out these new moves, and it was amazing to see the crowd’s reaction. We felt like rock stars!"

You nodded and smiled at the right moments, trying to engage with his excitement, but your mind kept drifting back to the stress of the day. Despite your efforts to seem interested, you felt a growing sense of overwhelm.

Jude’s stories flowed effortlessly. "Oh, and the camp mascot incident was hilarious. Trent and I ended up in the costume, and we had this impromptu dance-off with the kids. It was one of those moments where you just can’t stop laughing."

As he chatted, you found yourself struggling to keep up the façade. Your responses became more mechanical, and you occasionally glanced at the clock, feeling the weight of your exhausting day pressing down on you.

Jude seemed to sense something was off but kept going. "You know, I was telling Trent about how you and I used to go to that little café downtown. He said he’s been there before and loved it. We should go sometime."

You forced a laugh and nodded. "That sounds great."

As dinner preparation continued, you made an effort to stay present, but the stress from earlier was starting to take its toll. You kept insisting you were fine, even though you felt increasingly overwhelmed.

In the midst of this, you were preoccupied with trying to balance cooking and maintaining a cheerful demeanor. As you pulled a dish out of the oven, you accidentally brushed against the hot rack. The sudden sharp pain in your hand was like a jolt that broke through your emotional walls.

You cried out and rushed to the sink, holding your burned hand under the cold tap, your composure finally shattering. Tears streamed down your face as the pain seemed to trigger a flood of emotions from the stressful day.

Jude, who had been in the living room, heard your cry and the sound of your sobbing. He rushed into the kitchen and saw you with your hand under the tap, tears flowing freely.

"Hey, what happened?" Jude asked urgently, moving quickly to your side.

"I—I burned myself," you managed to say through sobs. "I’m so sorry... I tried to keep it together, but I couldn’t."

Jude gently took your hand from under the tap and inspected the burn. His concern deepened as he carefully wrapped your hand in a clean towel.

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t cry, m’love. It’s okay—speak to me,” Jude said, his voice filled with concern as he moved to your side.

“What do you mean? I’m okay, I just burned myself,” you tried to explain, though your voice was trembling.

“Y/N, do you think I was born yesterday? I know my girlfriend, and I know when she’s upset. What happened?” Jude asked, his tone gentle but firm.

His insistence broke through your remaining resolve. You burst into tears, the emotional strain of the day combining with the pain of the burn. “I—I had such a terrible day. Jamie was so harsh, and everything seemed to go wrong. I was trying so hard to keep it together, but I just couldn’t anymore.”

Jude’s expression softened, filled with empathy and concern. “No, don’t say that. You’re not stupid. You’re my Y/N. You’ve been through so much, and you’ve handled it with so much strength and grace.”

He gently took your hand from under the tap and wrapped it in a clean towel. Pulling you into a comforting embrace, he continued, “Your a trooper you know.”

You clung to him, the warmth of his embrace providing a much-needed sense of security. Jude held you close, his arms wrapping around you with tenderness. He stroked your hair softly and whispered in your ear, “You’re amazing, you know that? You’re allowed to have bad days and to feel overwhelmed. I’m here to help you through it, no matter what.”

You buried your face in his shoulder, letting the tears flow freely as he continued to hold you. Jude’s soothing presence and gentle touch helped ease the burden of the day. He spoke softly, his voice full of love and reassurance. “You’ve been so strong, but it’s okay to let go and lean on me. I’m here to support you, to lift you up when you need it.”

Jude carefully wrapped your burned hand in a clean towel, his touch gentle but deliberate. He then pulled you into a comforting embrace. “Why don’t you head to the living room and take a breather? I’ll sort out dinner. And try not to make any more of the place look like a disaster zone, yeah?”

You managed a weak smile as you headed to the living room, still sniffling. The sounds of Jude bustling around in the kitchen—pots clattering, the hum of the stove—provided a bit of distraction as you settled onto the couch.

A few minutes later, Jude walked into the living room with his phone in hand and plopped down beside you. He placed his phone on the coffee table and began gently wiping away the tears from your cheeks.

“I don’t want anyone treating you like that,” Jude said firmly, but with a soft edge. “I’ve had a word with the higher-ups about Jamie. It’s not on.”

You looked at him, surprised. “You did? How’d you manage that?”

Jude grinned. “Let’s just say I’m good at sorting things out when it comes to my people."

You chuckled despite yourself. “Well, thanks. I didn’t think you’d go this far.”

Jude gave a cheeky wink. “I was gonna sort it anyway, oh, also, um well now seemed like the perfect time.”

"Jude-"

He pulled out his phone and showed you the screen. “I’ve had a chat with my agent. "

"What?!!"

"Got you a photography gig lined up. It’s something you’ve always wanted to do. Figured now’s as good a time as any.”

You were stunned, your eyes widening. “What-? How-When? How did you even know I wanted this now?”

Jude’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “I’ve been paying attention, love. You think i haven't notice your Pinterest boards? Or your amazon wish list?”

You laughed, a genuine smile spreading across your face. “I don’t even know what to say. This is amazing.”

Jude squeezed your hand gently. “You don’t have to say a thing. Just remember, you’re brilliant, and you deserve all the good things. And if you ever leave me for a glamorous photographer life, just make sure to give me a shout-out in your interviews.”

You playfully nudged him. “Oh, so you’re worried I’ll become too famous for you?”

Jude grinned. "If that means sharing a bit of the limelight, so be it.”

You leaned into him, feeling a mix of relief and affection. “I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

Jude wrapped his arms around you. “I’m the lucky one. Seeing you happy is what matters to me. Now let’s enjoy the rest of the night. And if dinner turns into a burnt mess, at least we’ll have a laugh about it.”

Jude’s comforting presence and playful banter started to lift the weight of the day, bringing a renewed sense of hope and connection. His support and Brummie humor made the evening feel a lot brighter and more manageable.

#fanfiction #jude bellingham #leah williamson #womens world cup #england football #englandwomensfootball #womens football #football fanfic #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham fanfic #judebellingham

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ericshoney · 4 months ago

Text

Tantrum ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Your brothers come home to hear that you've been having tantrums and soon find out why.

Warnings: possible swearing, nicknames, crying, shouting, kicking, mentions of throwing up, slight angst, fluff

Reader's age: 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They had no idea what caused it. MaryLou and Jimmy were so confused. Usually you were a calm child, but over the past few months, all you've done is scream and throw tantrums when something wasn't going your way or you heard the word "no". It never happened before, the only thing they could figure out was it happened once Nick, Matt and Chris had left for LA again.

With the triplets due home again, your parents knew to inform them, so when they took you out or played with you, they'd know.

Nick, Matt and Chris had just landed in Boston, being collected by their mum. MaryLou informed the trio about your recent behaviour whilst she drove home.

"She's been kicking and screaming whenever we have to leave somewhere fun. Whenever we say no, she'll start crying and whining. She even tried throwing up when we had to leave the park last week. Your father and I have no idea what's going on, all we know is she's been like this since you left." She told them.

"We'll see what we can do, mum." Nick said softly.

When they had arrived home and unloaded the car of their bags, they walked in expecting to see your smiley face, but instead they were greeted by their tired father.

"Hi boys." He said, helping them bring their bags in.

"Hi dad." They replied, giving him a hug.

"What's with the tired face?" Chris asked.

"Your sister, I told her she couldn't have ice cream until after lunch and she started screaming. She's in her room." He answered.

Your brothers sighed, not understanding the sudden change in behaviour. Was it the typical "terrible two's", or were you suddenly a trouble maker? Or just very energetic? You were a surprise to the family, nobody expecting your parents to have kids after the triplets, and as much trouble as you were being now, they still wouldn't change it.

"Let's go talk to her." Matt said.

The three walked upstairs to your bedroom, walking in and seeing you sat on your bed, cuddling a stuffed giraffe. When you saw them, your eyes lit up and you ran over, putting your arms up.

"Nick! Matt! Chris!" You shouted.

"Hi petal." Matt said, picking you up to hug you before Nick and Chris.

"We need to talk to you, sweetheart." Nick said.

You nodded and sat on your bed. They sat with you, Nick and Chris either side of you and Matt in front of you. You swung your legs gently.

"Dad told us you got upset." Chris began.

"Wanted ice cream." You admitted.

"Bub, it's nine in the morning, ice cream is after lunch." Matt said.

"Mum also told us that you haven't been the best behaved." Nick added.

You frowned and looked down, thinking you were in trouble again.

"You have to understand, sometimes no is the right answer, sweetheart." Nick continued.

"Not like it." You mumbled.

"We understand, kid, especially if it's something fun. But you gotta learn that you don't always get what you want. You can't be playing mum and dad up like this, it's not good." Chris mentioned.

"Dad put you in a time out?" Matt asked, making you nod in response.

"Five minutes." You said, holding five fingers up. Your parents put you in short time outs, knowing it wasn't the best thing, just giving your young mind time to relax.

"Okay. Tomorrow, we'll go out for a bit." Nick said.

"Day." You mumbled.

"No kid, tomorrow." Chris said.

This resulted in you whining and crying. The guys frowned as you kicked, luckily Matt's reflexes were working as he caught your foot, just before it hit him in the nose.

"No kicking!" Matt exclaimed, which made you stop instantly.

You cried and shouted about going out today. Nick, Matt and Chris calmed you down, which took a while, as you cuddled up to Chris, after him holding you tightly so you didn't try to hit them. You tired yourself out, falling asleep on Chris for an hour. None of the guys moved, knowing that would trigger you again, only talked quietly about their worries.

An hour later you had woken up. Your eyes were slightly red from the crying and your cheeks stained from tears. You had a small pout on your lips as you looked up at your brothers.

"Hey sweetheart, good nap?" Nick said, brushing the hair out of your face.

"Hmm, I sorry." You said softly.

"Good job for saying sorry, petal. Want to tell us what's causing this?" Matt asked.

"Miss you." You mumbled, playing with the zip on Chris' hoodie.

"We're here now, kid." Chris said.

"No go." You said.

"No go....You don't like when we leave to LA?" Nick asked, making you nod.

"Sweetheart, do you get upset when we leave?" Matt asked, making you nod again.

"Is that why you're acting out? To get us home?" Chris asked, making you nod for a third time.

"Oh darling, we're sorry you get upset when we leave, but you can't keep acting like this." Nick said gently.

"I know." You whispered.

"If you promise to stop having tantrums, we'll think of something to help when you miss us. We miss you too when we're in LA, but we're not kicking and screaming, only Matt over a game." Chris said, making you giggle and Matt roll his eyes.

"Okay, mad?" You asked.

"No, petal, now that you've told us we're not mad, but you need to stop having tantrums, it makes us, mum and dad upset." Matt answered.

You nodded and hugged each of them as another apology. You then went downstairs and apologised to your parents, whilst the guys explained what you told them. Happy to finally find the answers of your tantrums.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags:

@lgbtq-girl @mattsfavbigtitties @onelesslonelygirlbieber6 @riowritesitall @sturniolo-fann

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thezombieprostitute · 4 months ago

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Apparently I'm still in a mood and LLOYD ISN'T HELPING! I'm supposed to be working and, instead, Lloyd's got me writing about 1000 words of smut!

Warnings: Lloyd being Lloyd, Smut. Please let me know if I missed any.

Everything has been getting on your nerves today. Especially Lloyd. And he knew it.

"Lloyd, seriously, I'm trying to work here!" Lloyd had started pushing things off your desk so he could sit on it. You quickly grabbed your laptop before he could destroy the thing.

"Work is boring, Cupcake," he smiled. "I'm what you should be paying attention to."

"Kinda hard not to when you're wearing nothing but a speedo."

"Oh, this old thing?" Lloyd leans so he's on his side, propping his head up with his arm. "Just felt like showing off the goods."

"And as much as you know I appreciate those goods, I need to pay attention to work right now." You get up to move to the table but he grabs your arm.

"C'mon," he purrs. "You've been stressed all week. Let me take care of you."

"Your solution for my stress is causing me more stress?" You break his hold. "I need to finish this, project Lloyd. Then I've got an entire month long vacation scheduled where you can have me all to yourself."

"But I need you now," he groans as he gets off of the desk.

"I can tell, Lloyd," you nod. "The speedo hides nothing, let alone how hard you are right now."

He grins that cheshire grin you hate to admit your love for. "Just a quickie, then? A preview of what you're gonna get during vacation?"

"Lloyd, we both know you can't do quickies," you shake your head. His grin turns smug. "Normally, you know I love that you can eat me out for hours. But right now, I'm working."

Lloyd huffs and walks off angrily. You promise yourself you'll make it up to him when you're done and on vacation.

As you get back into the flow of your work, your browser suddenly stops working. Panicking you check your laptop's network connection to find it's not connected to anything. You switch to your phone to call up work so you can explain what happened, but there's no signal. That's when you know what happened.

"LLOYD!!" You stomp to the living room, the best place for him to put a jammer. He's sitting there, fully dressed, pretending to read a newspaper.

"What seems to be the problem, Sunshine?"

"Where's the signal jammer?" You look around the room, checking all the bookshelves, moving the furniture, anything to find it.

"Jammer? Sweetie, clearly you're frustrated if you're confusing a network outage with me sabotaging your work."

"It's in your pants, isn't it?" He grins and you bring a hand to your face. "Fine, Lloyd. You want some attention? You want to help me let off some steam? Fine. Let's do this."

You grab the front of Lloyd's shirt and pull him up as best you can. You have the element of surprise but he's happy to work with you to get him up. He wasn't expecting you to continue pulling him until he was on his stomach on the coffee table.

"What the--" he's cut off when you spank his ass. He lets out a small moan and you keep going until your hand is too sore. "Holy shit," he gasps as you pull on his shirt to get him to stand up.

Once he's standing you're removing his pants and shorts before pushing him back onto his seat. He is fully hard, just as you knew he would be. He spreads his legs, giving you full access and you grab his cock and start roughly stroking him.

"Holy shit, Cupcake," he breathes. "A little romance, maybe?"

You grab his ear, making him wince, and whisper to him, "you wanted my attention. Now take it like the good boy I know can be." Lloyd groans at your words and starts fucking up into your hand. As soon as he does, you let go and he whimpers.

"No, no, Lloyd," you admonish. "You want me to blow of some steam? Destress a bit? You're going to sit there and not move until I give you permission."

"But I wanna play with you," he complains.

"You don't deserve to touch me after the stress you've caused me. Now put your hands behind your back and keep them there."

He pouts a little but complies. That's when you push the coffee table to the side and kneel between his legs. You lick the tip of his cock and he hisses.

"Remember, Lloyd, you do anything without permission, and I stop."

"Yes, ma'am," he breathes, his voice hoarse with need.

You work his impressive length with both of your hands and your mouth. Lloyd's always been impressed with how easily you can take him in your throat and you're not holding back on him now.

Every time you can feel or hear him tense you almost smile. You know he wants to move, wants to fuck up into your mouth, wants to control the speed with his hands on your head. But he wouldn't dare. You're in charge here and you both know it.

"Need to cum," he pleads. "Please, let me cum?"

Raising your head from his cock Lloyd has to bite back a groan at how beautiful you look. Your eyes teary from taking him so well, the determination in your face, the drool around your mouth. He wants to cum all over that pretty face and make it prettier.

"Will you be a good boy and let me work?"

"Yes," he nods. "Yes, please let me cum all over your face and I'll let you work."

"Where's the jammer?" You squeeze his cock and he groans. His hand goes to between the cushions of his seat and he pulls out the electronic device, handing it to you. "Thank you," you coo. "Now let's finish you off."

You take all of Lloyd's erection in one move, making him start spewing obscenities. You know exactly how to get Lloyd to cum and once you feel he's about to let go, you lift your head, continuing to stroke him with your mouth open, eyes on him, as you get him to cum all over your face.

You start wiping your face off with his shirt as he catches his breath. "Feel better?"

"So much better. Thank you, Sunshine."

"Now I'm going to get back to work and you're going to not interfere."

"But if I don't interfere, how will I get such an amazing blow job?"

You roll your eyes. Really this whole thing was a win-win for Lloyd. It always is when it comes to him and he knows it. It's one of the reasons you hate how much you love him.

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

#lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen x reader

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strangersteddierthings · 2 years ago

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What's Eight Plus Seven?

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five

Alright y'all. We had the hurt, let's get some comfort started.

Steve leans against his door, expecting Eddie to follow him upstairs to continue their argument because Eddie's never been one to back down from an argument as far as Steve can tell, so he's using his weight to keep the door shut. It takes about five minutes of just leaning against the door before he hears a few light knocks on the door. He pretends he didn't hear them and soon starts to hear Eddie monologue-ing on the other side. He thinks he hears a 'sorry' and an 'I fucked up' but he doesn't really tune in until Eddie says something about cancelling Hellfire.

Spinning quickly, he yanks the door open and says, "You better not fucking cancel!"

"What? Don't you, like, want me out of your house?" Eddie looks startled and sounds confused.

"What I want is for the kids to get to play Dungeons and Dorks for an afternoon, just getting to be kids and fight against monsters that can't actually kill them," Steve says as he goes to put his hands on his hips (a move that Robin calls his Bitch Stance) but realizes he can't while still holding a book, so instead he folds his arms across his chest, cradling the book to his body.

He waits for Eddie to call him out for saying dorks instead of dragons, but Eddie just blinks at him, quiet for a moment before he says, "Oh. Uh, okay then. I'll just, uhh, I'll be back closer to noon, then. For the game."

"Don't you have prep to do?" Steve knows he's trying to pick a fight now but he's angry, and sad, and hurt underneath it all. Also, he doesn't understand the change in Eddie suddenly. Ten-ish minutes ago Eddie had shouted back I wasn’t exactly wrong, was I? You were a jock, a bully even! Where is that anger now?

"No. Not, uh, not really," Eddie says, avoiding meeting Steve's gaze, face turning a very light pink. "I was- I mean, yes, there was prep, but I did a majority of that already and what's left will take maybe three minutes so..."

Steve's confused now, still trying to cling to his anger. "But you called and asked if it was okay to come early specifically for that reason."

Eddie doesn't respond right away. He turns around to walk to the wall opposite Steve's door and thump his forehead against it. Steve is perplexed by the behavior (but he's been perplexed by Eddie since finding him at Reefer Rick's) so he just watches in silence as Eddie heaves a sigh and turns around to slump against the wall, facing Steve once again. He runs a hand through his hair, then drags that hand back forward and down his face. "Yeah. I did do that."

"So, what, you lied? Why?"

"I just wanted to hang out," Eddie whispers, like it almost hurts him to say out loud, which is such a weird thing to hear because it makes Eddie seem small in a way Steve's never seen him. Even during spring break Eddie was never small or quiet; his fear manifested as shouting, for fuck's sake. It chips away at the last of Steve's anger. He's long past the days of kicking someone when they're down.

"You... wanted to hang out," Steve repeats before heaving a sigh of his own, long-suffering man that he is. Maybe it is time to bury the hatchet and actual deal with this. If nothing else, it'll result in Steve being less defensive around Eddie when everyone hangs out, like for movie night or BBQs. Also, he knows that Dustin will never let him know another day of peace once he learns that Eddie and Steve don't get along as well as he wants them to so he says, "Listen, I think we've got some shit to hash out, or whatever, so that should probably be done or, like, things are going to be weird when we all hang out, but I can't do that right now, man. So, stay or go, just make that game happen at noon. I'm going to stay up here."

Eddie nods, weirdly sullen and quiet again, as he says, "Yeah. Umm, maybe after the game? If you're feeling up to it."

"Sure. After."

Eddie raps his knuckles against the wall behind him twice before pushing off and heading back towards the stairs. He pauses to look over his shoulder and say, "If you wanna watch, or listen in, or something, I don't think anyone will mind." And then he's heading down the stairs.

Retreating back to his room, Steve tosses the book onto his bed before flopping face first next to it. He groans into his comforter before reaching for the book. He props himself up on his elbows and stares down at the cover before opening it to see Christopher's handwriting on the inside cover.

It's been years since he thought about Christopher and even longer since he's laid eyes on the books. He was so sure his mom had just gotten rid of them. All this time, they'd been right where he left them, shoved just far enough back to be out of sight on the shelf. His last link to Christopher.

That's not true, Steve scolds himself. His cousins, Amber and Robert, are still alive and in Washington. His grandparents still live on that farm in Michigan. Steve just hasn't seen them since the funeral.

He hadn't gone back to the farm the summer after freshman year, or any year since. His parents thought he was old enough to stay home for a whole month in the summer alone now, instead of paying to ship him off to his grandparents. Steve's old enough now to know that was why he'd spent a month every year out on the farm; so his parents could go off on longer work trips. Once they'd decided Steve was old enough to stay alone for the summer, that quickly reached other seasons and by the time Steve was a junior, the were gone more than they were home.

He doesn't even remember when he last spoke to them in person. He thinks the last phone call was right after Starcourt. It was just to make sure Steve got to job hunting, since his place of employment had burned down and the bills wouldn't pay themselves. Which is true. He doesn't have to pay rent, but all the utilities are in his name now.

Jesus, he doesn't want to be thinking about them.

He goes back to the book, flipping through the pages absently. Halfway through the book he finds a couple folded pieces of paper tucked close to the spine. He doesn't have to open them to know exactly what they are.

It's the character sheets he'd made.

He closes the book back atop them and rolls over to face his ceiling. He wants to call Robin, but the phones are downstairs and he doesn't want to go down there just yet. He also kinda wants to cry. To get rid of all these emotions about Christopher, and Freshman First Day, and Eddie.

Fucking Eddie. Who haunts Steve's thoughts more than he'd like because despite the grudge Steve has been holding, Eddie has been fun to be around and so good with the kids, especially Dustin. Fuck, after having watched Dustin break down when they thought he was dead- but he'd had a pulse. It was weak but it was there.

After Eddie'd been cleared of the charges and the months rolled on into summer, they'd spent lots of time together as a group. Steve will admit he tried to avoid Eddie as best he could (he knows he's petty, okay) but could still see how he blended smoothly into their group.

If this Eddie had been the one he met on Freshman First Day, instead of the dick that mocked him, they might very well be friends now.

That's the crux of it all, Steve thinks. That he wouldn't mind being friends with Eddie if not for that bottled up grudge he'd been holding onto. He can't bring himself to let it go and Steve's not even sure why. Thoughts and feelings aren't something Steve processes quickly, and it usually helps to talk it out with Robin. She lets him stumble through his thoughts, and doesn't mock him for messing up, or mixing up, words.

Goddammit, if he's really going to try talking this out with Eddie, he's going to have be open and honest and maybe a little vulnerable and he doesn't know if he can do that.

But he'll have to. For better or worse, he can't just keep Eddie at arms length. They need to either come to the conclusion that they can be friends, or not, and then go from there. (Also, he knows that Dustin will never let him know another day of peace once he learns that Eddie and Steve don't get along as well as he wants them to.)

In the end, Steve's not sure how long he just stares up at the ceiling but a sudden shout breaks him from his trance. It sounded like Dustin. Hellfire must have started.

Steve leaves his room to go lean against the half wall of the hallway, so he could look down to the dining table where everyone has gathered to play. No one notices him, so Steve sinks to the floor and turns, so he can lean against the wall, closes his eyes, and listens in.

The room below is filled with noise. Shouts of excitement, and groans of pain, and sighs of relief. Dustin yells at his dice when it rolls a Nat 1. Mike curses up a storm over a barely missed perception check that makes the party fall into a surprise round. He hears Lucas whoop happily and then what sounds like him taking several victory laps around the table.

He used to be an imaginative kid, able to easily conjure castle, and knights, and dragons in his mind's eye. Listening to Eddie describe a new location, or NPC, or monster makes it easy to bring that part of himself back. Eddie is descriptive and uses so many voices that Steve would be embarrassed to even attempt. But because Eddie is being descriptive, so is everyone else at the table. Erica has adopted an accent of some sort for her character. Dustin and Will go into great detail describing what they want their character to do. The older members of Hellfire do the same, and one of them is using an Irish accent that if he used while talking to Steve, he'd would think it was his first language.

Steve's not sure how long he sat there, long enough that they've taken a snack break and are back at it again, before he decides he might as well watch, too. He gets up and goes downstairs. There's a pause at the table when he wonders in and plops down on the couch. He makes eye contact with Eddie and offers a small half smile. Eddie grins back, and starts back into the game, pulling everyone's focus.

Watching is interesting. He gets to see the Party jab at each other, or lean over and whisper about something. It's nice, to see them being kids. Having fun.

They end around five and Steve is surprised at how quickly five hours had passed.

"So, Steve, how was watching your first DnD game?" Dustin asks, pausing on his way to the door to do so.

Steve considers teasing him, but he goes for honesty instead. "Pretty interesting. It might not be my last time observing. I gotta see you get killed sometime, right?"

"Rude, Steve. Rude," Dustin is grinning though.

"Tell your mom hi for me, and let me know when she's making pork chops again. I'd like to crash that dinner."

Dustin rolls his eyes and shakes his head but he hugs Steve before leaving. Between all the older Hellfire members, they all have rides home that aren't Steve or Eddie.

Speaking of the latter, he's slowly packing things away at the table. Clearly killing time so it won't look like he's intentionally staying after everyone's gone.

Soon, the house is empty again.

"So, I'm not sure... how to start this conversation," Eddie admits to the silence. He's still at the table, standing behind where he was previously sitting, fiddling with a die. "But, I'm sorry. For that day. You were right, you know? When you said I was lashing out at you first."

"Thanks. For the apology," Steve stands from the couch and moves to the table, toying with the tablecloth instead of looking at Eddie. "I, uhh, I'm not sure where to go from here, either? I spent such a long time angry at you. For pointing out all the things I'm bad at in front of everyone there. For making me feel like an idiot."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Now Steve looks up at Eddie. "You say that, but like, why? Are you sorry because what you did was shitty, or because you want to be my friend now?"

Eddie blinks, apparently thrown by Steve's question.

"Because, like, you were pretty dismissive of Lucas before Spring Break and he helped save your life. So, it's like, are you okay with being shitty if the people you hurt aren't people you like? 'Cause I used to be that way, and I'm not going to be friends with someone who is."

"Yeah, no, you're right," Eddie nods. "For all that I scream about conformity, and how stupid it is, I've been rather quick to dismiss everyone outside my own... group. I held rather close to that nerds verses jocks crap for too long. Lucas is a jock, but he's also a nerd, and so very loyal to his friends. And you- you're really fucking awesome."

"I am," Steve interrupts with a cheeky grin.

"Ass. But yeah, you're pretty awesome, and I've been feeling all fucked up today because, we could have been friends, couldn't we? In high school. If I'd just let you take the damn flier and kept my mouth shut."

"Hey, that's not all on you," Steve says. "I would have still joined the basketball team, and the swim team. And, like, I was so desperate for any shred of attention from my parents that I would never have picked Hellfire over sports meetups. I could have joined and still ended up a bully by sophomore year."

"Well, I didn't help-"

"I made those choices, Eddie. And it doesn't matter because it's in the past. So, like, we can just move forward. Start over, or whatever."

Eddie looks him up and down before giving one sharp nod, then breaking out into a wide grin, sticking his hand out for a handshake. "Hi. Name's Eddie Munson."

Steve laughs, reaching out to shake Eddie's hand. "Steve Harrington."

"Great, pleasure to meet you. Do you wanna hang out? We can play 20 questions. Get to know each other."

"Sure," Steve chuckles, extracting his hand from Eddie's. "Let me order some pizza first."

First time hanging out with Eddie alone. Guess they'll find out if they can be friends after all.

#steddie #my fic #what's eight plus seven?#just one more part #not fully edited because im at work so apologies for that

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portagas-chan · 7 months ago

Text

Yours Forever and Ever : Part 4

Yandere Katakuri x Isekai Reader

Everyone was staring at her and Katakuri. After all, who wouldn't? The strongest sweet commander of the Big Mom Pirates, Charlotte Katakuri was known for his stoic and cold demeanor. That same Katakuri came to the wedding with [Y/n] from the Strawhat Crew holding her hand.

"I wonder if they are going to announce another wedding soon! This is big news!" Big News Morgan laughed as he snapped pictures.

Katakuri walked towards where Big Mom sat and pulled a chair for [Y/n] to sit. After he saw that [Y/n] was seated, he sat beside her with Vinsmoke Judge between him and Big Mom.

"Mamama! I'm happy to see the two of you together!" Big Mom laughed and I forced a smile.

"[Y/n], I want to see that ring on your finger," Big Mom leaned down and waited.

She showed her the ring and smiled, "Is this what you wanted to see?"

"Yes! It's so pretty, Mamama! So this means you quit the Strawhats and joined our crew, right?" Big Mom gave her a menacing look.

[Y/n] furrowed her eyebrows at her words. She looked down at her thigh when she felt Katakuri placed his hand on it and squeezed it.

'Don't do anything stupid.'

She wanted to refuse her so bad but knew that if she did she would just ruin the plan and it would be her fault. She didn't want that. It was okay. She didn't mean what she said after all.

"Yes," [Y/n] forced the word out of her mouth. Big Mom happily laughed, "Good, good! Then I will announce your engagement with Katakuri to everyone."

Big Mom stood up from her chair and cleared her throat. Her actions caught the attention of all the guests present as they turned to look at her.

"I have an announcement to make. As you all may be confused when you saw my favorite son Katakuri walking in holding hands with [Y/n] here, I will explain what's happening. My son Katakuri is engaged with [Y/n] from the Strawhats. However, as of today, she is no longer apart of the Strawhat crew. Their wedding will be held three days after Pudding's wedding! I hope everyone look forward to it! Mamama!"

The guests erupted into cheers and congrats.

"Congratulations Katakuri-sama!"

"I can't wait to attend your wedding, Katakuri-sama!"

"You are a lucky woman, [Y/n]-sama!"

Although [Y/n] kept a smile on her face, she was very annoyed inside. Everything was done without her say. It was like her opinion and feelings were not important. It didn't matter to them at all. She couldn't believe Katakuri would force her into marrying her. She thought he would at least be considerate but that wasn't the case.

Katakuri leaned down and whispered to her, "Are you enjoying the wedding?"

[Y/n] frowned glancing at him from the corner of her eye, "No!" She said as she angrily munched away the cake on the table.

Katakuri smiled under his scarf, 'She's cute even when pouting.'

[Y/n] noticed that Sanji was going to make his entrance when the sky suddenly went dark and fireworks exploded.

'Sanji is a good actor,' She thought when she his expression.

[Timeskip]

Chaos everywhere. Everyone was distracted. Big Mom finally started screaming and I put on my earplugs. I quickly ran to where Luffy and the others were.

Bege and his crewmembers launched the KX launcher but just when it was about to hit Big Mom, her scream got stronger and it exploded.

Katakuri made earplugs from mochi for his siblings.

Bege looked at his allies, 'Everyone, retreat to the mirror.'

We all nodded and just as I expected, the mirror shattered into pieces.

We looked back at the Charlottes with Katakuri at the front marching towards us with an intent to kill.

'This is honestly more terrifying in real life.'

Bege built a huge castle with his devil fruit ability to which he call it 'Big Father'. I was running together with Nami and Chopper to get to the entrance.

"[Y/n]! Nami! Hurry up!" Luffy shouted.

[Y/n] ran as fast as her legs could take to get to the entrance. Luffy extended his hand towards her to which she quickly grabbed.

However, when Luffy was about to pull her back, he couldn't. [Y/n] wouldn't budge.

She looked down to see mochi? It was Katakuri.

[Y/n] looked at Luffy in shock. She was this close to being together with her captain again and now she was going to be separated by him again.

"Luffy!" she shouted.

Luffy tried to pull her but right now, Katakuri was stronger. Katakuri retracted his hand and she was met with Katakuri who looked down at her.

"Katakuri, let go of me," [Y/n] glared at him.

Katakuri ignored her and wrapped her with mochi so she wouldn't be able to move.

"[Y/n]!" She heard Luffy shout from a far.

"Luffy! Don't worry about me! He won't hurt me! I will meet with you later!" [Y/n] shouted back as she tried to reassure her worried captain.

"You better promise me then!" Luffy said.

"Yes! I promise!" She shouted, a small smile curling up her lips.

Katakuri noticed this and glared at Luffy in jealousy. Why is he making you smile? What's so good about him?

It took quite some time for them to finally come out as Bege shrinks with Germa 66 protecting the Strawhats. Katakuri had no choice but to let me out of his sight as he stopped Ceaser from leaving the castle. But before he could leave, [Y/n] stopped him.

"Katakuri! Get rid of your mochi, please!" She pleaded but he shook his head.

"If I did that then you would run away from me. That can't happen," Katakuri said before walking away.

Sanji took this opportunity to splash water on the mochi melting it.

"Thank you, Sanji-kun!" She smiled at him to which he returned. "No problem, [Y/n]-chan!"

They were interrupted by Big Mom who got in the way. Luffy being Luffy, he didn't back down and decided to fight her.

"[Y/n]-chan, you should go ahead," Sanji said telling her to run away while the Charlottes were not paying attention to her. [Y/n] nodded and did as he said.

Suddenly, there was an explosion which made the Whole Cake Chateau collapse. [Y/n] widened her eyes when she felt herself slowly getting dragged to the edge close to falling.

She held on tight to whatever she could grab on but they weren't strong enough as she fell off the Chateau.

[Y/n] lost hope. There was no way Sanji or Luffy could help her. Or did they even know that she was falling? Maybe not. They probably thought she caught up with Bege and was safe again.

She was going to die.

Instead of falling to her doom, she felt herself freeze mid-air. She snapped her eyes open to be met with a pair of familiar crimson eyes. "Katakuri?!"

Katakuri had one of his hands stretched holding onto the Whole Cake Chateau while his free hand caught [Y/n] so she wouldn't fall. His eyebrows were knitted together as he looked at [Y/n] in his arm.

"[Y/n], I will never let you die. Never! And you know why?"

[Y/n] looked at him surprised but stayed silent as she waited for him to continue.

"It's because I love you. And I will never let you leave me even if I have to use force."

[Y/n] was shocked because she never thought he would say those words to her. She knew he was feeling that way towards her but he never openly confessed to her.

He continued, "[Y/n], even if you may not have such feelings for me, I will make it happen. I will make you fall for me so please don't leave me. I don't think I can live without you."

"Katakuri..." She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to say except for his name. She didn't know what to do. Why was she hesitating now? She was sure she made her decision to leave him and stay with the strawhats so why?

Why was she hesitating?

What was it about Katakuri that made her hesitate?

#charlotte katakuri #katakuri x reader #yandere katakuri #op katakuri #katakuri one piece #katakuri x yn #yandere one piece #yandere x reader #one piece #charlotte katakuri x reader #katakuri #one piece x y/n #one piece x reader

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drewsephrry · 10 months ago

Text

memories

Harry Styles x reader

Inspired by: Memories-Conan Gray

Warnings: alcohol consumption, yelling, crying (idk if it counts as a warning) cuss words

Words: 2.7k

It was a rainy autumn night. She had a random movie playing in the background just to comfort her. She hated rain with passion. She hated that she was all alone and the only thing she could do to distract herself from it was look at old pictures.

Pictures from her childhood that were much too nostalgic for her, trying really hard to remember the name of the girl braiding her hair. Pictures from her vacation with her best friends from the previous summer, matching flower crowns and seashell necklaces on display. Pictures with her previous lover, that if she saw just two months ago she would cry her heart out but instead she smiled and reminisced about the tattoo he had let her draw on his skin shown in the photo.

It was a random Thursday night, the couple was chilling with their friends when Zayn told them that he had just acquired a tattoo gun. Harry was thrilled with the idea of putting more ink on his skin and even more so when Niall suggested that he let Y/N draw one on him.

Y/N had almost immediately shook her head in denial but Harry begged and begged until she sighed, defeated.

“Harry, you do know you're going to be stuck with it forever?” She warned.

“Yes, my love. Stop worrying about everything.” He tries to reassure her once more.

“But H, what if I mess it up? Or-or even worse we break up and you have it on your skin for the rest of your life?” She started asking with shakily hands, stuttering and failing to breathe properly.

“Y/N, honey, breathe. You'll be fine. Okay and what if you mess it up? That would just make it even more special to me. I love you and I completely trust you.” He puts his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her down. “I'm not planning on breaking up with you anytime soon, maybe even ever. Unless you do and you're trying to let me down slowly, I don't see anything wrong with you tatting me.” He reassures her once again and she sighs, nodding. Harry smiles widely and pecks her lips, before pulling his long hair up in a bun.

After sterilizing the equipment and Zayn showing her how the gun works, she was ready. She didn't feel like it, but Harry squeezed her hand three times, their way of expressing their love to each other without actually saying anything.

She asked him multiple times, as the tattoo gun hit his skin if he was in any pain and if he needed anything, but Harry told her repeatedly he was fine and was praising her for her light touch.

After just a few minutes, the sketch, she had done on a random notebook Zayn had in his apartment, was brought to life.

A palm tree on the backside on his upper arm was delicately outlined and filled by her. She grabbed the handheld mirror that Zayn gave her and held it so Harry could see the work she did.

“Do you like it? If you don't, we can find something to cover it up with and I'll pay for it.” She suggested immediately, worried because he hadn't spoken yet. But the truth was he was mesmerized by it.

“I love it. It's so simple but yet done so beautifully. Thank you, my love. Thank you so so much.” He said kissing her lips. She smiled and sighed once again.

“Thank you for trusting me with this.”

“Well, you know what they say. Tat for tit!” He exclaimed jokingly, trying to lift her shirt when Y/N pushed his hand away giggling.

“You're such an idiot!”

Suddenly, she heard a knock on her door. She stopped gazing at her phone and another knock was heard. She got up from her couch cautiously. It was really late and it was pouring outside. Who could it be?

She grabbed the pepper spray from her handbag, as another knock was heard. She clutched her phone, close to her chest, ready to call the police.

She looked through the peephole and saw the one person she didn't expect to.

Harry was standing there, his hair sticking on his forehead and his clothes soaked.

She quickly unlocked the door and gasped.

“Harry, what are you doing here?” She asked, worried and confused.

“Need to talk with you, angel.” He slurred, an obvious sign he was drunk. He was pouting and his glossy, his green eyes were bloodshot telling her he was crying. His cologne was overcome by the smell of tequila. Y/N couldn't do anything else than open the door wider and gestured for him to come in.

She closed the door behind her and walked to her kitchen to pour some water for him, in hopes that he would sober up a little. He followed her like a wet and lost puppy that she couldn't turn away.

He takes a gulp of the water she hands him and smiles at her. She looked so cute and tiny compared to him, her hair was a little longer and her skin was still tanned from summer.

“I love you so much Y/N/N. I never wanted to hurt you.” He slurred again.

“But you did, H.” She couldn't tolerate standing there and listening to him pour his heart out when he broke her own a few months ago.

Y/N had started getting better. Getting over him. She was considering starting dating again. But seeing him like this made it so hard for her to think. Think about how fucked what he did and said was.

“Please, my baby, my love, listen to me. I made a huge mistake.” He was pulling his hair and trying to balance on his own two feet. He stumbled and fell to the floor, Y/N immediately reaching for him to make sure he was alright.

“I have missed you. I can't sleep without you. I barely eat anymore. I-I…don’t know what to do without you.” He confessed, tearing up. He pulled his knees up to his chest as he sat with his back on one of the kitchen cabinets.

Y/N was nodding, feeling upset and guilty she made him feel like this.

“H-Harry��I don't know what to say. Please, don't cry. You can stay with me tonight. We'll be fine.” She bent down to be eye level with him, comforting him and hugging him tightly. Neither one of them could deny how safe they felt in that moment, in each other's arms.

Y/N knew she was making a huge mistake, something her therapist won't be able to help with, something her friends cannot support and mostly she cannot expect any one of them to be there to pick up her pieces when everything would break down again.

Harry was led to her bedroom and she helped him lay down, removing his articles of clothing that he claimed felt like lava on his skin.

“Why were you all alone? Don't you still hate the rain?” He asked, getting under the covers of her bed, his eyes slightly closed. Y/N nodded and walked towards her side of the bed.

Y/N laid beside him, wrapping her arms around his back and to his front. He squeezed them three times, before quiet snores were the only thing heard.

How could she say goodbye to him again, when he just spent an entire night with her?

That morning Y/N woke up to an empty bed. She walked out to her living room, to see that she was all alone.

He had left her.

She walked to the kitchen with an ache in her chest and saw a plate with a stack of pancakes with maple syrup on her kitchen counter for her to indulge in.

She ended up spending her whole day crying and watching ‘The notebook’.

The next day, when Y/N's therapy appointment was scheduled, she told her about the night she spent with Harry, how she felt safe and for once, after a few months, slept like a baby and through the whole night.

Her therapist scolded her about her poor choices and talked to her about stepping forward.

A few days passed since Y/N's and Harry's last encounter. Y/N was getting ready for her best friend's birthday party when a knock was heard on her door. She yelled that she'll be right there, thinking it was the delivery guy with her food.

She grabbed her wallet and ran to the door with a wide smile on her face. Although when she opened the door, it was wiped away quickly. She swallowed and looked at Harry's green eyes.

“I missed holding you.” He slurred. Y/N was already running late to help her best friend with the party preparations. She was planning on getting there first out of everyone, to blow balloons and hang the garlands she had bought. But her meal hadn't arrived in time and now, this was happening.

She opened the door wide and he entered, he walked and sat down on her couch with a thump. He giggled at the sound he made and got quickly distracted by the show on her TV.

Y/N groaned and tried to keep in her mind what her therapist, mom and best friend told her.

“It's hard to find an end to something that you keep beginning, over and over again.”

“Hey, come look at this! Monica got stung by a jellyfish!” He giggled, getting comfortable on her couch.

She cursed under her breath, thinking how he would fuck up her progress in getting over him. Now twice. She grabbed her phone from the coffee table and walked in her bedroom to call her best friend.

“I'm really sorry, but I won't make it tonight.” She lied.

“What? Y/N, it's my birthday! You can't miss it.” Her best friend had furrowed her eyebrows, even if Y/N couldn't see it.

“I love you so much, I'll explain everything another time. And I am really and truly sorry.” She apologized again.

“Don't tell me he's there again.” Her best friend groaned and Y/N sighed.

“Y/N/N, he's no good for you. He's going to hurt you again. He's going to keep coming back since you're not turning him away. This is a never ending cycle, babe. Think about all the trauma he put you through. You need to put him in the past and move on.”

Y/N sighed defeated. Her best friend was right.

“Again, I'm really sorry.” She apologized one last time, before hanging up the phone. She walked back to the living room, where he was laying on the couch watching as Ross yelled ‘We were on a break!’. Harry chuckles at that and looks up to find you standing a few feet away from him.

“Care to join me, my beautiful girl?” he asked, making space for her and she smiled sadly as she nodded.

“Let me take my heels off really quick and I'll be right there.” She assured him, going inside her bedroom again, untying the straps from her heels and sitting down on her bed to catch her breath. She felt like throwing up. She felt her chest heating and that she was unable to breathe.

One, two.

In, out.

She was calm again.

The doorbell was heard, so she got up and out of her bedroom to find Harry already at the door.

“Stay the fuck away from her!” His slurred British accent alarming you. You ran quickly at the door and pushed Harry away from it.

“I'm really sorry about him, he's not feeling well. Thank you for your service!” Y/N tipped the now scared delivery guy, grabbing the bag of food from his hand and closing the door quickly. She pressed her back on it and sighed loudly.

“Don't be upset with me. He just wanted to get in your pants. I was trying to protect you. I always will.” Harry's eyes filled with tears once again. A laugh track was heard and she sighed again.

“It's okay, H. I'm fine. We're fine. Let's go eat!” She grabbed his hand and he smiled, wiping his eyes.

They spent the rest of the night cuddling on her couch.

The next day, he was gone again. She opened her phone to see multiple texts and calls from her best friend, telling her not to worry and that she would forgive her for bailing on her.

Y/N ignored all of them, including her therapist's email to confirm their weekly appointment. She knew that she would be disappointed to hear that she's taking more and more steps back.

A week later, she still hadn't heard a word from Harry and she waited for his appearance on her doorstep.

And there he was, a loud knock on the door startling her from the cookies she decided to bake as a stress reliever.

She ran to the door and opened it to find him there. He looked a little bit better than the last times he visited her, although he still reeked of tequila.

“Hello, my love.” He said, approaching her to kiss her lips. But she pulled away and shook her head. She opened the door wider for him to enter. He did and walked to the couch, sitting down and removing his shoes, already getting comfortable. Y/N couldn't take it anymore.

“We need to talk. I don't care if you're sober or drunk as fuck, but this has got to stop.” She said upset.

“What's bothering you baby? I can kiss it better.” He giggled and made grabby hands at her.

“Harry, I am serious. You can't keep doing this. There's no good reason to believe that we could ever exist again. I cannot be your friend. I definitely cannot be your lover. And I cannot be the reason we hold back each other from actually falling in love with someone else.” Y/N felt lighter after telling him exactly how she felt.

Harry felt a lump growing on his throat, his eyeline was gathering tears and he felt his chest tightening. Suddenly his head was clearer and he wasn't under the influence of alcohol completely.

“I just…you can't keep showing up, especially drunk, ruining everything. Expecting me that I would just take you back. You fucking traumatized me Harry. You broke my heart. And I'm trying so hard to forget you, to put you in the past and you're not letting me do that. You're just too busy playing the victim and acting like you are the one who's hurt, like you're the one that has a specialist taking care of you and your feelings. Can you just for once listen to me and stay the fuck away from me? Just…stay in my memories.”

She felt tears rolling down her cheeks, she didn't even notice she was crying. Harry looked down on the floor, sniffling. Y/N wiped her tears and sat down beside him.

“Since you came all the way over here, I'll let you stay. You can stay as long as it takes, but this is the last time. When you're going to leave, you're taking all of your books that you have left, your coat that’s still in my closet and that good cologne that you have left in my bathroom and it haunts me. It's still on my clothes and pretty much everything that I own and it makes me…feel like dying. I mean, I'm barely surviving as it is.”

Harry was feeling like his heart was being stabbed over and over again. He hadn't realized how much damage he had done to Y/N. He didn't want her to feel that way anymore.

He got off from her couch and walked to her bedroom grabbing his coat, the cologne from the bathroom and gathered the books from her bookcase, putting them inside a tote bag, which was also his.

“I'm not gonna bother you anymore. I-I am really sorry for the damage I did. I never meant to hurt you. I love you way too much and…I know what I'm saying is not gonna change anything but I needed to get it off my chest. I wish you only the best, my lo-Y/N. And I'll always be there for you, if you ever need me. But I'll just stay in your memories.”

He kissed her lips once. Twice. Three times.

When he pulled away both of them had tears rolling down their cheeks, their eyes were red and their lips swollen from the kisses they shared.

“I guess this is goodbye.” Harry whispers. “For now.” He smiled and Y/N nodded.

“Goodbye H. Take care.”

A/N: just a lil valentines day gift lol, this was heartwrenching to write, hope you all enjoyed and cried with me

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little-pondhead · 2 years ago

Note

Wanted to hop in on the supervillain Danny au questions! Do we think Valerie would have any interest to get in on this? Between being a pawn for Vlad as Red Huntress and her "friends" ditching her as soon as she stopped being rich, I like the idea that evil billionare mastermind is her general vibe. Heck, maybe she and Tucker flip roles and she becomes the guy in the chair, not being a front line powerhouse and actually coming up with elaborate plans.

And on that note, do we think that if Vlad somehow found his way into this mess, he'd see the whole thing as a fun little game of "opposite world" and try his hand at being a hero? Because I for one think that would be hilarious, I actually don't have ideas for that because I can't imagine a heroic Vlad.

Amyway, that's all I got for now. Love your work!

You're one of the vertebrae creatures who keep hoarding all the brain wrinkles, aren't you??

---

[Okay, so I lost your ask, wrote this shit, then found it again so it's not exact but I'm trying here.]

Let's start with Valerie, or keeping up with the trend, Gray in the DC universe.

Valerie is so tired. It's a different kind of tiredness that has a grip on the others. Danny is tired of being a hero, Sam is tired of her parent's expectations, and Tucker is tired of being unable to protect his friends. Jazz is tired of being the bigger person, and Dani is tired of not having someone to rely on. The DC universe is their escape, and honestly, it's doing wonders for their mental health. Valerie notices. She has a shaky truce with Phantom and his crew, but she can't just let him get a leg up on her, can she? So Valerie follows them, through town, through the portal, through the new world they popped up in.

There, she stops. Phantom is now Fenton, and doesn't that make sense? Many things click into place and Valerie starts to understand as she watches the others from the shadows. She's surprised they haven't noticed her, but a little green sticky note on her visor says she had a little hand in her reconnaissance. So when she's done, she returns to her dimension. Back to Amity Park and back to her bed. Valerie lays there for a while, staring at the ceiling and fingering the sticky note, committing every detail to memory.

And you know what? Valerie gets pissed. How come Danny and his friends lovers? and family get to just visit other dimensions whenever they want a break and have no repercussions whatsoever? Just because hero work is hard?? She's a hero too, dammit!

Obviously, someone out there apparently agreed with her because, in a quick, dizzying moment, Valerie finds herself suddenly in the Ghost Zone, plopped down on a ratty blue couch with a very old ghost sitting across from her. He introduces himself as Clockwork, the ghost of time, the regent of the king, and Danny's guardian. Mentor? She wasn't sure; ghost speech always gave her a headache. Either way, Valerie found herself exceptionally calm and somehow struck a deal with the Ancient. To her chagrin, Clockwork informed her that Valerie was well and truly Liminal now, despite her best efforts. (What did she expect? Her suit was practically drenched in ectoplasm.) As part of the deal, Clockwork extended the same courtesy to her that he had to the others. Anytime she wanted, Valerie could have free reign and access to the DC universe and could do anything she liked with no bad consequences. And because of her liminality, he was able to grant her just enough power for her to create her own portals directly to the other realm.

[What did Clockwork get out of this deal? Well, that's up to someone else who's not me.]

So Valerie goes to this new universe. She switches her name to Gray, as if to mock Fenton, who had no idea she was there. She does not try to become a supervillain. And what's this? Outfit analysis time!!

In the show, I've always liked Valerie as a character, and whether it was intentional or not, her design seems to fit her attitude and actions. They were in high school in the early 2000s before her dad lost her job; Valerie was very popular, from what I remember. Her family had money. Other kids expected her to keep up with social norms, so her outfit looked more stylish than practical. She wears yellow, which is most commonly seen as a happy color. Her hair is slicked back so people can see her whole face. She has nothing to hide. She's confident and youthful, ready to lead, and overall enjoying her lot in life. Then ghosts start appearing, and we all know her backstory as Red Huntress. Her suit is tight to her skin, bright red, and overall she's armed to the teeth. Everything about that screams DANGER! Valerie is a threat now.

Her civilian outfit also never changes, which is understandable because this is a cartoon from 2004. But it's secretly genius because yellow is often considered a cautious color. It turns from being a happy color to a warning. Yellow is also associated with anxiety, betrayal, and even egotism, which is something both she and Danny experience during their interactions. She's uptight and constantly on edge. She feels like she has to provide for her family and is quick to anger.

Now for the opposite of that? Valerie is tired of being angry all the time. Rather than go apeshit on a bunch of poor heroes and villains-been there, done that-she treats this whole thing like an actual vacation. Gray wears a soft long sleeve, sweats, and fuzzy slippers. Her hair is relaxed and in a bun, with her bangs hiding half of her face. It takes some pressure off of constantly keeping her expressions in check. People also can't see how she's silently judging them. She lets the stress melt from her shoulders and lets herself curse like a sailor whenever she feels like it. Her clothes are dimmer colors, which don’t stand out or demand attention. She lets herself be not perfect.

Although, just because this is a vacation for her doesn't mean Gray can't just lounge around doing nothing. She has no money! So Gray, after shuffling through a couple decades of this world's history and discovering that Craigslist is universal, applies for the first work ad she sees. In short, Gray joins the Goonion. She ends up making a deal with the guy who hired her. And her new boss. And her new neighbor. And-

Gray very quickly becomes the John Constantine of the criminal underworld. She brushes up on her people skills and learns to talk rings around other people, getting people to owe her favors as much as she dishes them out. Balance is the key here, as she’s learned from Danny. Gray is never tied down by too many IOUs at a time, and her tight grip on her companions and team quickly earn her a questionable but reliable reputation. She presents a morally-gray character, if you will.

Gray’s quick climb to power-that was definitely sped along by Clockwork-earns her a powerful position in the Goonion. If she plays her cards right, Gray doesn’t have to do any work at all. She just leans back and enjoys being paid for wearing pajamas all day and occasionally signing some paperwork. She siphons away bits of her own paycheck to a dimensional bank account she threatened asked Technus to set up, and Gray is finally able to slip more than a few tens into her father’s wallet when it’s time for him to pay his rent. It’s a good life.

Now, Vlad? Oh, he's fucked. This can work for whatever redemption au you want. He can be exactly like he is in the show or working towards bettering himself as a person. I imagine him being halfway to a redemption plot, and in an effort to gain the Fenton's trust, he starts hanging around with the family more. Jack loves this. The others do not, but what can they do? Everyone is just trying to be civil to each other in an effort to make Jack happy. Since old habits die hard, Vlad very quickly notices Danny's improved state of mind and is attuned to the Zone enough to feel when Clockwork stops time on their end. He starts to purposefully rile up Danny and realizes that the time stops happen right after Danny leaves the room in a fit of anger. Then the boy comes back all smiles and sometimes doesn't even remember what Vlad had said to him in the first place.

So he puts his ear to the ground. Whispers are floating around about a new portal that's been opened near Phantom's Keep. A natural one. A permanent one. No one can investigate due to its location, but the young king and members of his fraid have been seen frequenting it more often than late. Not suspicious in the slightest, Danny would have protested. Vlad goes poking around. Entering the Keep uninvited felt like millions of bugs tugging at his skin, but turning human helped ease the sensation. It was laughably easy to slip between the cold stone walls of the Keep, avoiding Fright Knight's walking path and sticking to the shadows. The portal was in the courtyard, under the watchful gaze of two stone gargoyles leftover from Pariah's reign. Right before Vlad can investigate further stick his head in and see what happens the world warps, and suddenly the older halfa is sitting on his ass in front of a very old ghost.

Looks like Vlad fucked around and found out.

Basically, Clockwork yoinked Vlad to his side of existence right before he entered the portal. Even if all he wanted to do was relate to Danny in an effort to mend their relationship, The Master of Time wasn't okay with Vlad going off into the DC universe all willy-nilly. Oh no. Letting Vlad loose in this world would lead to bad things regardless of his intentions. Even if Vlad promised to play by all the rules and pretended to be human, he was bound to slip up and cause trouble.

So there were two courses of action Clockwork could take here. One, he could pull in a few favors and wipe Vlad's memory, sending him back to his own universe until he inevitably went sniffing around again, and this whole song and dance continued. Or second, he could equip Vlad with similar ghost artifacts Manson and Foley possessed and temporarily seal away Vlad's powers while he was gallivanting around the DC universe. He'd be on Clockwork's payroll, so to speak, and could only act on the older ghost's instructions. Clockwork presented these two choices to Vlad. The older halfa chose the second option after weighing the pros and cons. He didn't want to be controlled by Clockwork, but he also didn't want to lose his memories (over and over again, from how he worded it.)

This is how Vlad's hero persona is born. I'm unsure if he should stick with his last name, Masters, or take on something different to distance himself from Fenton and his family. Let's stick with Masters for now.

Clockwork has this drowning little rat man on a rehab program and uses some fancy ghost jewelry to inhibit his halfa abilities. He doesn't make Masters do much, just drops him in here and there when the DC timestream needs a little nudge. It's not like Clockwork will have Danny deal with it; the kid already helps out with every other timestream when asked. Masters can help out here. And since his halfa abilities are blocked, he gets to do everything as a human, which brings its own set of challenges. The idea is that by throwing Masters face-first into a new world filled with people who could end his existence and be forced to win every fight or else, he'll come to appreciate what Danny goes through on a daily basis.

The JL Dark becomes very familiar with the mysterious Masters, who doesn't seem to have any powers but still fights like he does. The man can be extraordinarily clumsy and short-tempered but still graceful and light on his feet when it matters the most. More than once has someone caught Masters muttering under his breath, cursing out gravity and a 'purple-cloak wearing bitch.' Masters always shows up out of the blue at the most random times. He is literally just there, and sometimes even Masters himself looks shocked about his sudden scene change. But he's always suited up and ready to go, so not many heroes question it. They usually need the help anyway.

In the DC universe, Masters is wearing four magic bands, each engraved with the words Dominion of Time on them. Several bands made from tungsten were buried deep with Clockwork's Tower in an old wooden box made from aspen and diamonds. Each band was a blank slate, glowing slightly from magic long past. Clockwork had simply selected the four he needed, engraved the spells needed in ghost speech, and handed them over. Vlad grumbled and tried to find a loophole in the artifacts, but ultimately accepted his fate and wore them whenever Masters was needed.

Vlad's new outfit for this outfit is similar to Valerie's; it's loose and uncomplicated. (Actually, there are a lot of parallels between these two.) In the show, Vlad always wears a tailored suit and dress shoes. He's well-groomed and his hair is slicked back. He always tries to show off his wealth and power by having full control over his appearance. In layman's terms, he's the walking cliché trope of a rich billionaire villain in every superhero media to ever exist. After all, in a kid's show with a teenage protagonist, what's more intimidating than an adult nemesis who has their life together?

As Masters, Vlad is forced to throw all that out the window.

The hero outfit he wears was literally picked up off the street. If glowing metal bands were not adorning his arms, some would assume that Masters was a homeless man. The top was dug out from a dumpster behind a costume store, and the sandals were given to him by a woman who couldn't wear them anymore. His arm sleeves were sewn together from some blackout curtains he found at an old housing demolition site, and the pants were just some sweatpants that were a tad too short. The mask was bought from the corner store, his belt salvaged from a junkyard, and his scarf was actually a gift from Jack-not that he'd wear it around the oaf. The only 'expensive' things Masters wore were the four magic bands, a handful of large glass beads hanging from his belt, and the sharp metal claws he wore on top of each finger. The claws were bought on a whim years ago when Vlad was building his fortune, and boy, was he glad for them now. They were the only real weapons Clockwork allowed him to carry for some reason.

In other words, Masters is exposed. With his loose hair and flowing clothes, Masters is forced to trust the others around him to have his back. He's humbled every time someone covers an obvious blind spot of his that he's not used to compensating for. He gets dirty and messy, fighting to survive against enemies he knows nothing about. His outfit symbolizes his efforts to change. Masters is re-learning what it's like to be truly vulnerable in a world you don't understand with no help whatsoever. Clockwork has no issue pitting him against demons and ghouls even John Constantine would hesitate at, and his narrow victories quickly earn him an invitation to the Watchtower.

The Justice League is puzzled by this walking lump of wet spaghetti. He disappears so easily into the background and doesn't stand out at all. Every once in a while his eyes scrunch up like he's confused about something, but he won't admit that he's lost the conversation. Masters will offhandedly say weird things and turn as if expecting someone to be there, then suddenly stop himself with a soft flinch. He refuses any form of payment. He can stare down Batman. His appearances are random and the man carries no form of contact. Masters often has an aura of resignation and regret around him, as if he didn't want to be there in the first place. He's awkward around kids but fiercely protective of a few teen heroes. (Mostly Conner.)

It finally starts to come together in the JL's mind when Masters becomes more widely known in the world of supers. One of the higher-ups in the Goonion hates him. Dani held a gun to his head. Manson screeched bloody murder when she saw him. Nightingale declared herself his official nemesis. The final piece was when, after a long and exhausting fight, Masters temporarily removed his mask to wipe away some blood around his mouth.

The Flash, who was sitting next to him, nearly let out a squeak.

Masters' blood was bright green.

Masters' teeth were shaped like a shark's.

Masters was another fucking Fenton, wasn't he?

#pondhead replies #DPxDC #supervillain danny au #villain! everlasting trio #The Fenton Menace #FUCKING FOUND THE ASK #FINALLY #GODDAMN #does this make any coherent sense #jesus fuck i'm going to bed

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heyidkyay · 1 year ago

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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part One

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Warnings: This is gonna deal with a lot of controversial shit surrounding Matty and his past I'm ngl, so if you're not into that then I'd suggest not reading this! But if you are, then hi!! I hope you enjoy?

Authors Note: I'm back...:)) Back with a series too, or it will be if this first part goes down well! Lmao so pls don't hate it! Butttt in all honestly, I do have to quickly thank @procrastinatinglikeapro for all the kind words she gave me on the snippets I annoyed her with recently and for forcing me to actually believe in this fic because I very much was on the fence about posting again. So thank youuuu, it means a whole lot<3 Also, the skeleton of this was taken from a very old fic of mine which I started during the height of covid that I've just been thinking about trying to better for a long while now, so... enjoy?

And I guess let me know if this is something anyone would want to read more of? Yeeeeah, I really don't know what else to write here now, it's been a while, so! Hi, help, bye:)

Masterlist

Chapter 1: He's got the whole world falling at his feet

“Yeah, yeah! I’m really into their sound at the minute! Honestly fell in love with their recent performance at the VMA’s– didn’t overdo it and kept it true to themselves. Definitely did a great job there, so well done with that one if you’re listening in, lads!”

I was grinning from ear to ear as I spoke into the microphone before me, which was to be expected whenever I was at work. Strange, yeah I know, but only to any typical person with the usual nine to five, because I truly did love my job. It was tough work, strenuous at times, contrary to what most might believe, but it was pretty much everything I’d ever dreamt of.

See, I’d grown up on the outskirts of this tiny village in the Isles, where everybody knew everything about everybody. Secrets were never well kept– you could just ask our local priest about that one, who often used to regale most of the confessions he’d heard in the only pub around for miles whenever he’d been pissed beyond being able to sit on his barstool.

It was also incredibly tight-knit, as in, all the kids who went to school together, then grew up and married one another, settling down and taking over the jobs that their parents or grandparents would soon retire from. Hardly anyone moved away, if ever.

In reality though, it was actually just a place I’d always felt like a stranger in. Where I’d struggled to fit in and make friends, to form bonds outside of the one I shared with my mum.

Which sounds sad speaking about it, but still true, I’d had a real tough go of it back in school. ‘Mouse’ was what they’d seemingly dubbed me back then, a nickname which had travelled throughout the masses all too quickly seeing as there had only been about sixteen kids in both my year and the one above.

The name had mostly started due to me just having been an extremely timid child, hiding behind my mum’s flowing skirts whenever we went into town and much preferring that of my own company whenever other kids were mulling about. But that fact hadn’t gotten any easier for me once I’d been forced out of school for a few years after an accident that had flipped my entire life on its head. Resulting in me being further isolated from the rest of the world and my fuck-face of a father running for the hills.

Still. Shit happened, I supposed, and I’d been forced to deal with it and grow up.

Too quickly, in truth.

So whilst everyone else had been out living, I’d been holed up in our little dove cottage miles away from them all, with only books and music to keep me company. Music which had been a true constant in my life and just about the only thing that had gotten me by.

As well as my mum, who’d forever be my rock. And back when we’d both been growing up– because that was how it’d always felt with us– she had constantly had the tele on full blast throughout the day, cycling through the freeview channels that played the recent top 50 and old school classics.

It was one of my favourite things to look back on now. Sometimes if she was ever in the mood, or when the power would finally flicker and go out completely when a storm hit, she’d spin this old phonograph her own father had gifted her in the days before she’d left home. The two of us would dance around the living room whilst she would clean on Saturday mornings and then hum to it as we settled in for a long downpour, her working on her trusty crossword whilst I would read or draw. The brass pavilion would croon out old French records she had bought long before she’d moved to the UK, and before she’d ever even met my father.

And I would just lose myself in it all.

It wasn’t just the basic premise of music that I had enjoyed though, it was everything else that also came along with it. The opinions, the reviews, the personal stories and thoughts, the way it could make a person think and feel.

So, for years I would just sit down at the kitchen table and write for hours on end about the sound, the rhythms I’d felt and heard, the lyrics that had had me bellowing out or playing on a never-ending loop in my head. And then, as a teen, Twitter had come along and had been just another way for me to express it all.

It was actually Twitter that had eventually led to all of this.

The radio.

At first, I’d never paid much mind to all of the people who had started to discover the small page I’d created, the few users that had enjoyed reading my inner thoughts. But then one day I had and it had been an insane concept to comprehend, the very idea that people cared enough to stop and read my thoughts, but it was also what had, ultimately, pushed me into continuing with it.

From there, opinions on genres of music and their style throughout different decades quickly turned into thoughts on up and coming artists, then actors and other A-list celebrities. So I had ended up spending an awful lot of time online, simply just tweeting about it all, on subjects followers had wanted to hear about and answering questions on whether I loved a certain album or this new EP.

The account had grown rapidly shortly after and by the time I’d had the balls to tell my mum I had wanted to leave home and make a start for myself, in London of all places, the account I used had gained well over fifteen thousand followers.

I went to uni down there and met people. People who didn’t shy away from me or shine a light on my odd quirks. I met my best mate there, too. And Finn was unlike any other. The platonic love of my life, or so I’d since dubbed. He was eccentric, witty, and didn’t care about what anyone else thought of him. Forced me to feel that way too, slowly but surely. And it had only taken a few weeks before he'd grown rather suspicious of my constant need to always have my phone near.

He had, pretty early on, decided that I must’ve had some secret boyfriend back at home that I’d yet to tell him about and had annoyed me about it at every twist and turn, basically backed me into a metaphorical corner. So to say I’d relented fairly quickly wouldn’t be a lie, and I’d told him all about the account soon enough.

Finn had actually been the one to suggest that I take it further, somewhere bigger, make it into something that people could actually tune into and not just read about. I had taken the consideration on board way back then, but had only acted on it when shit had hit the fan a year or so later. But we'll soon get into that.

So with it all, I ended up making an actual radio show out of my thoughtless Twitter account, allowing people to listen in and actually get to know the person behind the name.

That was essentially how ‘Mouse On A Mic' had come to life.

Yup, I’d kept the fucking nickname! I couldn’t not in truth, it was familiar, reminded me of the person I once was, and who I currently am now. But the only difference was, I’d given it a new story. I’d reclaimed it.

The show's audience grew fairly quickly during that first year, I was new on the scene and seemingly refreshing. I had a no-bullshit kind of attitude that my listeners apparently admired. I called celebs out on their crap and went to new extremes to conjure up inventive ways to get followers involved.

Ultimately ended up doing things that other radio presenters were too afraid to do at the time. Which was fair enough, in hindsight, they had actual endorsers and brands that were backing them up and funding their streams. Me, on the other hand, I had no-one to answer to for my mistakes or any of the backlash the show received. It was just me, sat alone in my bedroom, speaking into a mic.

Only, a few years had since passed and now it was me sitting in a quaint little studio in East London, not too far from my flat and walking distance from any and every coffee chain that the city had to offer.

Anyway, I forced myself to adjust my headset over my right ear as I wheeled closer to the table, aware of the one too many monitors and power cables I had to constantly avoid, and glanced upwards, locking eyes with my co-producer, Adi.

The girl shot me a hurried gesture, a circular wave of her hand that had me chuckling to myself even as I silently waved her off, knowing I’d already gotten off track one too many times this recording.

"Alright! It seems as though we've got to move on with the next segment of the show now! Unfortunately, Ads here has informed me that I can't just sit around all day and talk about Inhaler forever. A right shame that, don’t you think?”

I huffed theatrically whilst Adi merely shook her head in return, dark ringlets brushing the length of her shoulders as she mouthed the word 'prick' through the thick sheet of plexiglass that separated us.

Ignoring that loving endearment in favour of continuing on with the commentary, I hoped I hadn’t steered too far off track seeing as there was still an awful lot scheduled for today's show that I had yet to go over.

“So moving on!” I sighed on into the mic and rubbed my palms together, eyes flitting over the few sheets of paper I had perched before me, “It seems like quite a few of you lot, over on Twitter especially, have made it loudly known that you want to hear my thoughts on Manchester’s very own Matthew Healy. God, is there yet another scandal under his belt I don’t yet know about? Makes me wonder where he’s finding the time.”

I shook my head briefly at the bulleted point I’d been given and rolled forward in my seat. The wheels squeaked beneath my weight and I made a silent prayer that the mics hadn’t picked up the sound.

What a fucking topic, I thought quietly to myself and sent Adi a semi-amused smile before peering down at the recent headline she had handed over to me earlier that morning.

It was the same old thing. Expected really at this point.

“Healy’s at it again! Whatever will we do?” I gasped, playing up the whole thing as I stared down at a few images of the haughty singer that were plastered across the printout I held in front of me.

There were four of them, a quick succession of pictures that had all seemingly come from a clip at a recent concert. Bit blurry but the title gave away to what was happening.

A laugh bubbled up out of my throat as soon as I read the headline. “Oh God! It appears Matty Healy is– wait for it!– back at it again, only this time it seems he’s gone and traded off a drumstick for…” I paused to drum quite the anticipating beat against the tabletop of my desk and, as stoic as I possibly could, I then added, “A joint!”

A smug grin slid its way up onto my lips when I heard Adi’s faint cackle echo from just outside the booth.

“Honestly, I swear that everything this man does makes the rags! Reckon I actually saw an article about how he took his tea this one time. And like, do me a favour, yeah?” I rolled my eyes but relented, “A man of the people though, in’t he? He’s got to be! I mean, just look at this headline. Fucking who the hell writes this shit?”

Tossers, I supposed. But even so.

“It’s madness.” I muttered, gently clucking my tongue as I shook my head at the so-called news that had made the front page. “But anyway, I’m guessing that most people claim him to be the epitome of a real time rockstar, and sure, he might just be. 'Sex, drugs, rock & roll', all that shit. But really, how much longer is it going to last until everything goes tits up, hey?

“I mean, Healy can pretty much do whatever he wants at this point in his career, he’s got half the world either falling at his feet or complaining about him- has done since he was what, a kid? Following his parents amongst the shadows of their fame before he eventually stepped out and made an actual name for himself. Saying that, it still is insane to see how much he’s changed!”

And it was. Healy and his band had risen to fame so evidently, their music everywhere, they sold out shows constantly and had the privilege to fly across the globe doing whatever they pleased. But they’d also practically grown up in the limelight, Matty especially. So it was hard not to notice the resounding changes that shone through in all the news and gossip that ran riot.

“But, if I am being truthful.” I went on to say, thumb toying with the page’s sharp edge, “And when am I not? I thought that most of the shit that went around about him at first was a load of crap– publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that. Or maybe just him being an idiot, a young lad who’s had to grow up with all these cameras consistently on him and had to basically learn what he can and can’t say in front of them. Slipping up from time to time, like most do. But, now? I’m honestly not too sure… It’s just a bit sad. Isn't it? There was so much potential there.”

I shrugged, a hearty sigh falling with my shoulders.

“I actually used to quite like his stuff a couple years ago, he’s got a way with words, with music overall really. Reckon if he’d gotten his shit together that he probably could’ve been ranked higher up on the list of rockstars. Could’ve changed or paved a way for newer musicians entering the scene. But not so much anymore. His songs lack the passion they once had, they’re not what they used to be. He works hard, I’ll give him that. Still, I can’t help but wonder if it’s just his band pulling his dead weight along with them now.”

I took a slow breath, then gazed down at the small amount of sticky notes I had pinned to the monitor beside me: the next segment. I’d have to wrap this one up quickly.

“Maybe that’s a bit harsh.” I said, chewing on my lower lip, “But honestly, I just hope that he takes an actual break sooner rather than later. The band looks spent and he just seems like he could do with some shut eye, some time away from all the cameras and prying eyes. Just so he can sort himself out good and proper, you know? Then again, that’s just my opinion among a sea of many.”

In truth, I really did think that Matty had real talent, that raw kind, and he seemed like a nice enough guy– or at least he had done, a couple of years back, before all the controversy and whatever else.

Now though, the man just seemed so caught up in it all, in the fame, the tabloids, the drama. Unaware of just how far he’d fallen.

Me, I’d seen it one too many times before, with many of the greats even, and as painful as it was to watch, what more could I say or do? I'm nobody in comparison.

I blew out a short breath.

“Fuck, that got all serious didn’t it?” I tried to laugh it all off and only felt a little more at ease when I finally glanced up and caught Adi’s sincere smile, “Anyway, onto our next segment, reading a couple of your lots tweets! Let's see what everyone's saying about our amazing Adi today, shall we? What was it last week, Ads, those yellow trousers you were wearing?”

“Oi, will you two please stop mucking about? We’ve got to get going!” I scolded without any actual heat, shaking my head as I held back a chuckle, forever amused by the infamous pair stood a way away from me.

I’d not long since left the studio, having walked with Adi to the nearby tube station so that she could hop a train home before I had headed on over to Finn’s. It was a typical route for me and not too long of a walk, but since arriving I’d been roped into packing up the many belongings that had been messily upended from the Spiderman backpack I was so often seen carrying about.

My gaze skittered over to the other side of the room once I’d teethed together the bag’s plastic zipper, over to where my son, Teddy, was currently in the midst of being whirled around by his godfather, tawny coloured curls flying in every-which direction whilst his cheeky grin grew even more prominent.

I felt the corners of my mouth lift upwards as I watched my best mate laugh at whatever it was the toddler had just said to him, tickling the boy’s sides as he did. If I was feeling incredibly sappy, I’d tell Finn then just how thankful I was to have him around, because he truly was incredible.

From the moment I’d found out that I was pregnant, Finn had been there for me. He loved my son almost as though Teddy was his own, he adored the kid like no other and had placed him on a pedestal high above everyone else since the day he was born.

Finn was always free to take Teddy whenever I had the show to fret about too, or if I was ever in dire need of another helping hand. He was fiercely protective of the two of us and I knew in the very depths of my heart that there would never be a hair harmed on my son’s head so long as he was around.

I was pulled from my thoughts just as the toddler in question came bounding over, giggling uncontrollably as Finn chased after him, his arms stretched out wide and crouched down low to mimic the small boy's height. I couldn't help but notice the matching grins they both wore.

“Help!” Teddy squealed as he flung himself into my awaiting arms, allowing me to wrap him up and settle him safely on my hip, using my frame as a shield to block him from Finn’s view.

"You can't hide from me Teds, I’ll always find you!" Finn taunted playfully, laughing merrily whilst he wiggled his fingers at Teddy, who was only just peeking out at him from over my shoulder.

Teddy squirmed in my grasp, giggling and screaming senselessly as he tried to dodge Finn’s oncoming hands that had since managed to softly graze his sides. I could only roll his eyes in fond exasperation, the pair never failing to brighten my day, and couldn't help but feel ever so grateful for whatever being had brought Finn into both mine and Teddy’s lives.

You see, Finn was the closest thing I’d ever had to a brother, let alone a best friend. He’d been the family I’d never known I’d needed, a home away from home. And I knew that I could always count on him for just about anything and he had proved that the day I’d turned up on his doorstep in the pissing rain one Tuesday night, utterly terrified after having just found out that I was expecting.

“Alright, you lot!” I began, batting away one of Finn’s advancing hands as he made to grab at Teddy's tiny ankle. “We've got to get home in time for your bath and tea, and I think Finn here has to pick up Liv from work.”

I was directing my voice towards the toddler in my arms but also sent a knowing look Finn’s way, one which caused the man’s eyes to widen in immediate realisation. ‘Liv’ was actually the lovely Olivia, Finn’s newest fling– only she had managed to last quite a while longer than the rest, a new record for him really.

“Shit, yeah.” Finn muttered mostly to himself before he hurried on over to his desk in the far corner. I could only laugh quietly, Teddy joining in too when he noticed, and watched on as Finn hastily started to grab at an array of items, shoving them into his jean pockets. Phone. Wallet. Keys.

When he was finished, and somewhat out of breath, Finn spun back around towards us and shot an accusing brow our way, not too pleased about having been the source of our mirth. Teddy and I couldn't help ourselves then and laughed a little harder at his impervious expression.

But with that all done and over with, I simply pressed my nose against the side of Teddy's head and smiled contently into his curls whilst Finn merely rolled his eyes at the two of us, chuckling before he made a start for the door. I followed just behind him, Teddy's backpack slung low over my shoulder and a happy little boy nestled in my arms.

***

People lover @/user1 Imagine being a mediocre radio host and thinking you know the ins and outs of the music industry.. #CancelMouse

102 @/user2 Don't mind me, reckon I just found my new favourite radio show:)

Ugh! @/user3 Mouse sounded proper excited today but switched up so quick when that 75 bloke came up://

Soloveme @/user4 Hate to see people supporting toxic behaviour, sit down.

Milk @/user5 Don’t hate me, I'll forever be a matty girlie!! But @Mouseonamic I kinda agree??

Paris @/user6 Do you think he’s seen it yet? > Too_shy @/user7 Probably, it’s trending rn >> Drummepls @/user8 Hope he’s okay and doesn’t take it as a personal attack..

He should’ve known really.

He should’ve fucking known.

Even in his drunken state he should have known not to look at what they were all fucking saying about him. Slumped on the floor of his hotel room, propped up against the bathroom door, too exhausted to think about moving, let alone try.

He’d only heard a small snippet, caught the last of a conversation on it in a cab ride back from the club the band had found themselves in. But he had heard it, and he had listened.

"He's got the whole world falling at his feet." He fucking wished. "Changed." Too right. "A load of crap- publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that- but now I'm not too sure." Laughable, man. "It's just a bit sad." The story of his fucking life. "Potential." When’s he never not disappointing someone? "Lacks passion." Passion lies in living, mate, and he hasn't felt alive in a very long time.

"Not what it used to be." Who he used to be.

He lit another cigarette from a crumpled pack he’d pulled from his back pocket and watched on as a curl of smoke unfurled in the air. He only wished he’d gone and brought something upstairs with him, or grabbed one of them little bottles from the minibar before he had decided he’d needed a piss. But if he closed his eyes hard enough he could imagine it all going dark, the world just fading around him, and the cigarette was suddenly enough.

Though, even then he still couldn’t quite muffle the loud, pitying laugh that escaped him as he continued to scroll through the mass of tweets that never faltered on his phone. They were like a freight train, unable to stop.

Matty wiped his nose on his sleeve.

Never had he ever felt so fucking lost. Desperate for everything to just pause for a simple second. To stop and just leave him alone for a bit. To have the world let him wallow in the dark dank pit he's hollowed out for himself.

But what a fucking life, hey?

Carelessly, Matty thumbed across the dimming screen, his intoxicated mind too focused on the task at hand to remember why exactly it was he was even sitting there on the cold bathroom floor. Something to do with Hann, he supposed, or George. Perhaps another heated encounter? Probably.

The sound of his phone's keyboard echoed off the surrounding walls and he breathed out a self-depreciating chuckle when he clicked send on the tweet he’d been attempting to curate, not caring enough for the consequences. Hardly even thinking, in truth.

He was far too gone to care anymore, already knew firsthand what the repercussions would be tomorrow. But at that moment, he just wanted honesty. To tell the truth, for once. To let them all know that he knew he was a shit excuse for a person.

What more could the world possibly say anyway?

Everyone around him was the same. He was simply just a puppet on a string. They’d make him sing and dance until the day he finally wrapped those wired strings tightly around his neck, and then all they'd be able to do is sit back and watch the show. And he'd enjoy every unabating second of it.

Matty @/trumanblack 10s ago Radio shows are sick man, gotta love them! And I sort of am sad haha. And I do lie? We all lie, I spose. But just listen to the radio, kids! Open your ears!

He laughed silently after, thoroughly amused with himself, and tossed the phone off somewhere off to the side so that he wouldn’t have to look at it again.

Bullshit. It was all just fucking bullshit.

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homeofthelonelywriter · 4 months ago

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Let's call it Fate | Part 4

(A/N) Starting to go somewhere...I hate myself for the slow burn, don't worry.

Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader (no Y/N)

Warning: google translate translations, abusive parents (especially mother), arranged marriage, age gap, bullying, talk of grandparents and death of a grandparent, misstreatment of Ghouls ;-;

The moment Cardinal Copia announced that class was over and it was time for lunch, you slumped down on your desk. You had always prided to be smart, well-read. But Latin really got you to doubt all that. Of course, this was just the first lesson and it was a quick introduction of what you’d cover over the course of the next few months, but you were already done. If you didn’t know better, you’d ask why you had to learn a dead language. But you knew better. You knew that most of the satanic prayers used in the Ministry were in Latin. So knowing the language made sense, but it didn’t make it any easier.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw the Cardinal moving in your direction. Everyone else had left by that point, or so you thought.

“You okay, girly?”

You looked up and saw Lila standing beside you, an empathetic smile on her lips. She held out her hand, pulling you up as soon as you placed yours in hers.

“Let’s grab some food, yeah? Will make you feel better.”

While she was talking, you risked a quick glance toward Cardinal Copia. He was frozen, a few steps away from your table, watching you. When your eyes met, he smiled and nodded, which you quickly returned before focusing on Lila again.

“Sounds like a good idea.”

She smiled and linked her arm with yours before pulling you out of the classroom and toward the mess hall. On the way, you passed the same Ghouls that were in the classroom earlier. You quickly waved to them, before Lila dragged you further along, noticing the taller one wave back just before you rounded a corner.

When you entered the mess hall, you quickly noticed how full it was, a stark contrast to that morning. Lila and you immediately got into queue, loading food onto your plates as soon as you had the chance. Once both of you were satisfied with the amount of food you got, you searched for a place to sit. Your eyes immediately landed on the table you had sat at during breakfast, and seeing that it was almost empty, you led Lila there.

“Is it okay if we sit here?”

The members of the Ministry nodded and Lila and you sat down, quickly digging in. You were ready to spend lunch in silence, but Lila had other plans.

“Latin’s already giving you trouble, eh?”

She chuckled when you sighed and nodded.

“How is it not giving you trouble?”

She shrugged, piercing half of a tomato with her fork, before lifting the cutlery and waving it in the air.

“My parents started teaching me when I was a child. It’s true what they say, learning stuff is easier the younger you are.”

“Yeah, well that would’ve been quite useful. But hey, these violin lessons really paid off…not.”

Lila chuckled.

“Just give it time. It looks worse than it is. And if you need help, just let me know, I’m sure we can squeeze in some extra lessons.”

Her words lifted some of the weight off your shoulders. Knowing you could rely on her, have her as a friend made you feel better than you had in days.

You spent the rest of lunch with Lila rambling on about her life back home and how much she hated most of the people in the group. How arrogant they were and how a certain someone just couldn’t keep his hands to himself. You expected as much, but you still felt annoyed when she told you about how Noah had come on to every single girl in the group.

In response, you told her about how you’re in an arranged marriage with him.

“WHAT?”

You quickly shushed her, as you suddenly felt a lot of eyes on you.

“Your parents suck!”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

She was quiet for a few minutes, her knife dangling between her fingers as she stared at it deep in thought.

“You know…dead guys can’t marry…”

Your eyes widened at her words, but she quickly burst out laughing when she saw your face.

“Nah, I’m just joking. Unless…”

You chuckled and shook your head. If only that was a viable solution. Sure, you were in a satanic church, but murder is something that isn’t accepted, not even here.

“Anyway, what-”

Lila was interrupted by a soft bell sounding through the mess hall. And when you checked your watch you noticed that it was one p.m., time to start work.

The two of you quickly brought back your plates, before saying goodbye. You watched Lila run off before you turned to look at the head table, searching for Papa Primo, but he wasn’t there. Cardinal Copia, Papa Secondo, Papa Terzo, and Sister Imperator were all there, but there was no sign of the oldest brother.

You quickly made your way across the hall, bowing your head in respect once you were close.

“Ah, what can I do for you, my child?”

You stopped dead in your tracks when you heard Papa Terzo address you. Once you lifted your head, you couldn’t help but let your gaze wander across the people in front of you, not sure what to say.

“I…uhm…”

The current Papa chuckled as he got to his feet.

“Oh, no need to be nervous, piccola. Tell your Papa what worries you.”

He took slow, calculated steps toward you. Steps that almost seemed flirtatious.

“Terzo…”

You looked up, your eyes meeting Cardinal Copia’s. His gaze flickered from you to his brother, hardening whenever it would land on the current Papa.

“My apologies, Papa. I meant to talk to Cardinal Copia, I have a question for him. I’m very sorry.”

Papa Terzo immediately froze, a confused frown on his face.

“Are you sure I can’t help you?”

Behind Papa Terzo, you watched Cardinal Copia stand up as he glared at his brother.

“I am sure you could help me, Papa. But I wouldn’t want to steal your time for such a trivial matter.”

That seemed to appease Papa Terzo, as he smiled and nodded, before motioning for his brother to join me. Your gaze immediately flickered to the Cardinal and you couldn’t help but giggle as you caught him rolling his eyes at his brother’s theatrics. As he walked by Papa Terzo, Cardinal Copia bowed his head in respect, but as soon as he had reached you and was out of earshot from the others, he began rambling in Italian. You tried to hide the smile on your face but were unsuccessful.

“Does he amuse you, cara?”

You chuckle, nodding.

“A little. He is…very self-assured. And flirtatious.”

Cardinal Copia nodded, finally stopping and fully turning to look at you.

“So, what can I help you with?”

You suddenly remember why you even approached the table in the first place.

“I didn’t see Papa Primo at lunch today, so I wondered if someone brought him food? I assume he’s in the greenhouse.”

“Si, one of the Ghouls usually brings him a plate. The way from the Ministry to the greenhouse is too uh…estenuante to make it multiple times a day.”

You nodded, before glancing at the buffet. There was still a good amount of food left.

“Do you know if the Ghoul has already left? If not I can grab the plate and bring it to Papa Primo, I’m headed down there anyway.”

The Cardinal smiled and nodded, walking to the buffet with you following.

“He likes spicy food, probably because he can’t gusto that well anymore.”

He grabbed one of the plates and started loading some of the curry that was served on it, along with rice. He then walked over to the dessert section and grabbed another, smaller plate.

“He also has a massive golosi, uh…sweet tooth.”

He grabbed a glass of chocolate mousse with a berry topping as well as two pieces of chocolate cake. While the Cardinal finished up, you went and grabbed a tray, bringing it back so you could carry everything down at once. Together, you filled the tray with the two plates, as well as a glass of water, a glass of juice, and some cutlery.

“Thank you cara.”

You smiled and bid your goodbye, before making your way to the greenhouse. Thankfully, you knew how to get around by now. Within a few minutes, you reached the door that led outside, and once you pushed that open, you were at the greenhouse in no time.

“Papa Primo? I brought you lunch.”

You gently pushed the door open, walking in to find Papa Primo sitting at the table you had shared fruit at the day before. He perked up as soon as you entered, a soft smile on his face.

“Ah, tesoro. Grazie mille.”

With a gentle thud, you set down the tray in front of him. He immediately picked up the cutlery and started eating. He must’ve been hungry.

“Do you…always have to wait until after lunch for someone to bring you food?”

The old man shrugged with a smile on his face.

“I’m already being catered to, I won’t complain about having to wait a bit.”

You nodded in understanding, before looking around. Everything seemed to be in order within the greenhouse, you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do.

“Well, tell me what to do boss.”

Papa Primo chuckled, looking you up and down for a second, before turning back to his food.

“Before we start, you should probably change. Don’t want you to get your habit all dirty and sweaty.”

You hadn’t even thought about that. But on the other hand, you weren’t sure what to change into. Sure, you brought some stuff with you, but nothing sturdy enough for some yard work.

“The Ghouls should have brought something to your room by now. Go, take your time and when you’re ready, come back here. And don’t forget to grab some acqua from the mess hall on the way. It is going to be a hot day.”

With a nod, you left and quickly made your way back to your room. Once there, you found a new uniform lying on your bed. It was a black overall made of thick but breathable material. You quickly changed, putting on a black shirt underneath, before pulling the straps over your shoulders. You also put on the new pair of boots that were sitting underneath the window. Before you left your room, you glanced in the mirror and decided to put your hair up in a ponytail.

As Papa Primo had asked, you grabbed a few water bottles before returning to the greenhouse. Once there, Primo pointed to a small cooler, where you put the bottles.

“It’s not much, but it will keep them freshi for longer.”

You nodded before turning back to look at him, awaiting his command.

He spent the next two hours giving you an introduction to the greenhouse, showing you the different plants and what they need. As soon as you were done with the greenhouse, he led you outside and showed you the fields, assuring you that they weren’t part of your duties, but he wanted you to be familiar with them.

Once the introduction was done, he handed you a basket and together you went to the back and harvested the ripe fruits. Soon enough, you had to grab a second basket, since the first one was already overflowing. As soon as you were done, you placed the second basket in the cooler, while Primo arranged the first one to look a bit prettier.

You watched him, amazement slowly filling you as he made a simple fruit basket look like a piece of art. All too soon he was done and turned to you. He opened his mouth to say something, but when he saw the look in your eyes, he smiled instead.

“I can teach you how to arrange something like that if you’d like. Not today, but at some point.”

You nodded eagerly, making him chuckle.

“Good. For now, could you please take this up to my brother’s office? Uh, Terzo. Terzo’s office.”

“Of course. Uhm…where is it?”

“Oh…right.”

Papa Primo quickly described the easiest way to get to the currents Papa’s office. Once you were sure you could find it, you left the greenhouse and made your way back up to the building. At first, it was easy to to follow the instructions given, but all too soon, you had to admit to yourself that you were lost.

If anybody had been around, you would have asked for help, but the halls were deserted, so you had no other choice but to keep going. After a few minutes, you no longer knew how to get back to where you had just come from. You spun around, looking in all different directions, searching for something familiar.

“Miss? Are you lost?”

The voice cut through the silence, making you jump as you spun to look at who had talked. And there stood the same two Ghouls from earlier. It was clearly the smaller one who had spoken, you recognized the voice once the beating of your heart calmed down. The taller one just stood beside him, not grinning.

“I uh…yeah. Papa Primo asked me to take this to Papa Terzo. He described the way, but I must’ve turned the wrong direction at some point.”

The smaller Ghouls smiled.

“If you want to go to Papa Terzo’s office, you’re completely wrong. Come, we’ll show you the way.”

You smiled at them and nodded, following when they started to lead the way. You noticed that the taller one kept looking back at you, so you quickened your pace until you fell into step with him.

“May I ask, who is who? I know your names are Swiss and Dewdrop, but Cardinal Copia never told us which name belongs to which of you.”

The smaller one smiled and introduced himself as Dewdrop, before pointing at his larger friend.

“And this is Swiss. He is a big baby, a bit shy, but all in all he’s friendly.”

The taller one immediately grinned again and you smiled, introducing yourself.

“The part of the Ministry you were just in, you should stay away from. It’s where we Ghouls live. Most of us are friendly, but some are a bit…well…”

Swiss quickly jumped in.

“Territorial?”

Dewdrop nodded.

“Yeah, territorial fits well. Especially since most of the members aren’t as nice to us as you are.”

“Why…why is that?”

Swiss chuckled darkly.

“They see us as servants. Nothing more than dirt that can be replaced.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes.

“Now that’s bullshit.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, Swiss looped an arm around your neck and pulled you into his side, basically holding you in a headlock as he ruffled through your hair.

“Oh, I like you.”

“Ow, ow, ow.”

You laughed as Swiss finally let you go, before fixing your hair as good as possible with one hand. Then you turned to look at him, a grin on your face.

“I like you too, Swiss.”

After a few minutes of walking and talking, you finally stood in front of a set of large, ornate wooden doors. It was obvious that something important laid behind them.

“A bit pompous, don’t you think?”

Swiss chuckled and nodded, while Dewdrop just shushed the two of you. But it didn’t keep you from laughing together. At least not until the door suddenly opened.

“Who is making such a ruckus out he-. Oh, cara. What can I do for you?”

The Cardinal looked annoyed until his eyes met yours. A soft smile found it’s way onto his face, as he completely ignored the two Ghouls next to you. And as Swiss watched you and the Cardinal Copia, he let out a low whistle, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“He has the hots for you, girl.”

You turned around, about to smack him when you remembered that you had company. So, instead you glared at him, making him chuckle, before you turned back to the Cardinal.

“Papa Primo asked me to bring these to Papa Terzo. I got lost on the way, Dewdrop and Swiss brought me here.”

The Cardinal nodded in understanding before ushering you inside and asking the Ghouls to wait for you. And once inside the office, you were proven right. The room looked more like the private room at a club than an office. Soft couches everywhere, thick curtains to keep out the sun and low lighting. Papa Terzo sat on the largest one of the couches, a cigar between his fingers.

“Ah, piccola, I knew you’d be back sooner than later.”

Translations: piccola...little one cara...dear estenuante...exhausting tesoro...little treasure/darling gusto...taste Grazie mille...thank you very much acqua...water freshi...cool

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