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poppadom0912 · 4 months ago

Text

The best babysitters

Warnings: Mentions of absent father but all fluff

Summary: Work prevents you from going home one night, thankfully you’ve got the best backup in Chicago.

A/N: This is being posted later than I planned. My mum was in hospital and it gave me a scare but she's all recovered now so here this is. This is in celebration of 1k, a few more will follow as my workload has decreased significantly.

This fic exists in the same world as my other fic ‘older sister’ but can also be read as a stand alone.

You were tired.

Work was beyond busy today and your clients were being unnecessarily stressful. All you wanted now was to go home, relieve your babysitter of her duties and enjoy the night in with your daughter.

It seemed that the universe had some sort of vendetta against you though because just as you were putting the finishing signatures on the last few papers, an intern, a woman you saw earlier at reception, came running into your office slightly out of breath.

You wanted to scream.

Letting the poor intern talk, you smiled at her stiffly, dismissing her after saying you’d make your way. There was no way you could ask your babysitter to stay late for God knows how much longer, you could remember her telling you she has a lecture tomorrow morning.

Getting up from your desk, you sighed, screwing your eyes closed when you caught the time on your phone. Your sigh in defeat could probably be heard all across Chicago.

Walking out your office, the sound of your heels filled out the empty space, majority of the firm had gone home, only a few stragglers staying behind to close up on any loose ends.

Turning your phone on, you ignored the several notifications screaming for your attention and went straight to your contacts.

Your phone only rang twice before the person on the receiving end picked up.

“Hey Will, can you do me the biggest favour please… You’re a life saviour, thanks, I owe you one.”

Hanging up the phone, you stared ahead through the windows at the bustling waiting room, raised angry voices overlapping and bleeding though the walls.

You could already feel your headache intensifying.

*****

Using his spare key, Will entered your house. Shuffling inside, he took off his jacket and shoes as usual.

Hearing the front door open, little pattering feet were immediately heard running across the house. Will smiled at the sound that he didn’t hear often due to all of your demanding jobs.

“Mama! Mama oh-“

The immense joy on Harper’s face disappeared as the nearly two-year-old rounded the corner on her little chubby legs, expecting to see her beloved mother who she missed all day only to suddenly be met with her redheaded uncle.

“Well hello to you too miss Harper.” Will smiled down at his niece nonetheless, crouching down to scoop her into his arms to which she didn’t argue and instead welcomed.

As soon as she was safe in his arms, the toothiest, giddiest smile broke out on her chubby face that was so scarily identical to yours that it could only be explained by witchcraft.

Harper giggled, such a sound making Will forget about all the horrors that stained his day from the emergency department.

“Hi!” She exclaimed, her smile remained upright and never faltered. “Hi!”

And soon after, she pressed her open mouth onto his stubbly cheek, her attempt of a kiss. Despite struggling with the tough task and all the slobber that remained on his cheek, Will’s reaction was instant and wouldn’t change for the world.

“Oh, thank you so much Harper! Uncle Will missed you tons. Look at how big you’ve grown!”

But, before Will could have all his focus solely on his adorable niece, the sound of the front door unlocking diverted his attention.

Lo and behold, Jay casually strolled in as though this was another random Tuesday.

Oh, that son of a b-

Harper’s scream that followed definitely burst Will’s eardrums.

Will winced, tipping his head away to protect his ears from any further damage before turning to glare at his brother who was taking his jacket off.

"What are you-"

"You said we'd meet at Molly's for a drink but you weren't there." Jay cut Will off, a smile on his face as he looked at Harper and spoke without looking in Will's direction. "Natalie told me you were here."

"Jay Jay's jealous Harper." Will said, his tone all factual and matter-of-fact as he looked at the toddler in his arms. "He didn't want to miss out."

Jay didn't even try to look offended or hurt by Will's remark because deep down, it was somewhat true because how could Jay let Will have all the fun by himself?

"Stop hogging her you buffoon and let me hold her." Jay told Will, not waiting for a reply as he moved forward and took Harper into his arms, the girl didn't protest nor did she willingly lean forward.

"What- Uh, I've literally been here for five minutes Jay."

"Am I your favourite uncle? I knew it!"

*****

Following Jay’s sudden and unprompted arrival, Will dismissed your babysitter, paying her what you usually did and a little more as compensation for staying so late.

Once she had left, there wasn’t much left around the house for them to do besides turning the dishwasher on and making Harper’s nightly milks, but it wasn’t her bedtime just yet and maybe if time permitted it, Harper could stay up a little beyond her usual bedtime.

Consider it a small treat for this special circumstance without her mother implementing her strict nighttime routine.

While Will was sorting away the finals bits in the kitchen, Jay easily made himself comfortable in the living room while Harper continued to babble nonsensically, a few discernible words welcomed themselves into the mix. Jay allowed himself to take a second to relish in the moment, trying to prevent himself from having an existential crisis as he realised he was both emotional but also proud of how much she was growing.

“Dada, look look! S’ Dada!”

Moment ruined, Jay’s smile instantly fell.

Jay followed the direction of Harper’s index finger to the tv, his face hardening at the sight of the man who failed his fiancée and his baby who just turned one.

Harper's 'dad' was a television reporter and it had totally slipped his mind that this was the channel he worked for. Seeing his stupid face yap away about the news made his blood boil.

Jay changed the channel without a second thought.

Your ex fiancé had suddenly decided to leave on Harper’s first birthday, not even having the decency to at least show up at her birthday party.

A year later, and Harper still remembered the man whose name was her first word.

It devastated you still to this day what he had done and Harper’s random interjections of ‘dada’ only made the wound deeper.

“Dada isn’t here harper.” Jay said, tone as soft as it could be as he tried to explain it without her crying.

“It’s just uncle Jay and Will, and mama will be home soon.” Jay continued, holding the toddler in his lap so there was no chance of her running away crying.

Luckily, Harper was a mummy’s girl through and through, so despite the large absence of her father, simply mentioning ‘mama’ or anything akin to that made her entire face light up in a way that no one else could.

“Okay Halstead’s, listen up!” Will said as he entered the living room, phone in one and a towel in the other.

“Y/N’s saying it’s mostly likely going to be another two hours minimum so we’re most likely going to have to stay over.” Will told Jay specifically before looking down at Harper.

“You wanna get into your PJ’s Harps? Jay Jay can make you some milk.”

And despite her highly energised state, Harper would never turn down the enticing combination of her pyjamas and warm milk.

Crawling out of Jay’s lap, Harper moved towards Will who in turn of carrying her gave Jay the towel he was holding. And as much as Jay wanted to fight his brother, he knew Will had more experience with kids - i.e. Owen - and so he could gladly change her diaper.

With Will and Harper standing over him, brown eyes wide, glinting with a hidden intent Jay had become familiar with since childhood. It really wasn’t fair that you and Will both had your father’s eyes which Harper just had to inherit. Jay found himself useless and always surrendering to those goddamn eyes, even as the youngest sibling.

Whenever Jay remembered his childhood, it never made sense why the two older siblings never folded as easily when he looked up at them with the biggest, most imploring eyes. Even now, three decades later, and not a single thing had changed.

“Okay, okay! Just stop looking at me like that.” As soon as Jay spoke, the two rejoiced, their happiness still discernible even as they made their way upstairs.

“Let’s get this party started then.”

*****

And so party they did.

Well at least according to Harper’s standards.

The night started off with warm drinks - Harper with her milk while Will and Jay spoiled themselves to the expensive coffee beans that you easily could afford but neither your brothers indulged in unless under your roof.

Following this, Harper had a short but very fun time running around with sudden newfound energy, causing as much havoc as humanly possible for anyone her size.

It was safe to say that she tired herself quite quickly.

As Jay opened himself and Will a beer, he walked back into the living room, his eyes landing on his older brother and niece, the younger scrunched up into a little ball on Will's chest. Her face completely relaxed and arms wrapped around his torso as she snored quietly.

"Now this, after today, is my kinda party."

"Amen." Will agreed, tapping his bottle with Jay's as a silent 'cheers'.

Jay settled besides his brother, both of them staring forward at the muted movie Harper randomly chose, the first she watched that didn't have any princess affiliations.

"Gosh, it feels like years since we last babysat her." Will said, a sombre but nostalgic tone lacing his words.

"It does." Jay hummed as he swallowed his beer. "We're all so busy with work we can hardly make time for each other."

Will scoffed. "I see you almost everyday, strolling casually into the ED like you own the freaking place. Who are you kidding?"

Jay rolled his eyes but agreed nonetheless.

"Yeah, we need to visit more often. Make more effort and take out the time."

The silence that followed was filled by Harpers little snores and the occasional sound of a siren blaring past in the distance.

"I'm so tired I could knock out right here on the floor."

"Don't be such a doofus, go put her down in her bed."

"Aye aye captain."

*****

When you finally returned home three hours later, tired beyond belief. You were so close to dropping to the floor as soon as you locked the door but as you ventured into the house, you were met with the most heart warming sight.

On the floor in the living room remained your two younger brothers and your daughter. Harper was still scrunched up in a ball on Will's chest, her hand clutching his shirt while said man had his face leaning forward into her hair, his breaths causing Harper's curl to move occasionally. Jay sat besides them, hands crossed slightly on his lap and his head tipped backwards, resting on the sofa.

Even as your eyes burned with the need for sleep, you took a few pictures of the scene before you, your smile not going till your head met your pillow.

If Jay and Will woke up with sore necks in the morning, there was a very seasoned doctor in the house for a reason.

#one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #one chicago fic #onechicago #chicago med #chicago pd #one chicago fanfiction #jay halstead x reader #will halstead x reader #halstead sister #halstead brothers #jay halstead x sister!reader #will halstead x sister!reader

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bweeeb · 5 months ago

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HATED

Theodore Nott x reader ( Whispered as last name )

Enemies to lovers

Notes: When I wrote this, I didn't realize how dirty it was, I apologize for the shitty writing.

Summary: When the new girl causes Slytherin to lose the House Cup, Theo becomes much more interested in getting her attention—even after acting like a jerk. But maybe with Voldemort's return, it might be too late to make something last.

Warnings: Smut, Theodore being an asshole like every man on earth, reader being a proud slut.🤘❤️‍🔥

Being competitive was always one of Theodore Nott's characteristics that almost no one knew about, and as one of the smartest students in Slytherin, Theodore never had trouble keeping his competitiveness to himself. By the end of the third year, the vast majority of Slytherin's points were consistently earned by Theodore, leading Slytherin to take the top spot in the House Cup every year, until Y/n Whispered transferred from Ilvermorny at the beginning of the fourth year and secured the House Cup for Hufflepuff. Theodore couldn't help but feel intense hatred spread through him from head to toe upon seeing that the person who had taken his place was a new, blonde, five-foot-three Hufflepuff girl, which irritated him even more because the attraction he felt towards her was stronger than the instant hatred that surged in his chest. The first time he saw her celebrating with her peers at the end of the year, Theodore decided he would make Y/n's life much more complicated from the moment she looked at him from across the Great Hall, at the Slytherin table, and sent a gentle smile his way. Theodore didn't understand the reason behind her beautiful smile but interpreted it as mockery; he preferred to imagine that Y/n was mocking him rather than smiling amiably due to the stories she had heard about him, ultimately ending up liking a Muggle-born Hufflepuff.

In the fifth year, Y/n endured a series of provocations from Theodore until she reacted, turning it into a personal game that went beyond the House Cup. In the fifth year, Slytherin once again won the House Cup, and Theodore made sure to send a card to her room with the message 'What can you do if Muggle-borns only get lucky once in a lifetime, dolcezza,' and on the back of the card, probably the phrase that made Y/n cry with anger for the rest of the night, 'Maybe you should go cry to your parents, little baby.' The next day, Y/n put on her tough mask and threw the paper into Nott's plate at breakfast, saying loudly and clearly, 'My parents are dead, so if you tried to offend me, you failed with both the Muggle-born insult and the part about parents, Stupid Nott.' From that day on, Y/n began to hate Theo for being so stupid, and Theo began to observe Y/n more delicately, and partially the provocations decreased. However, with the decrease in provocations, Y/n's approval and visibility over him also decreased. Nott had to find another way to get her attention, even if it meant returning to taunting.

— You smell that? Oh wait, it's just Y/n walking into the hall.

Y/n heard Nott say loudly as she passed by him during breakfast.

— Must be coming from that mouth of yours that only spews garbage, Theodore.

The girl retorted as she walked past him without even looking at him and sat down at her table nearby.

— You should watch what you say to him, Y/n.

Y/n's friend, Violet, said, glancing quickly at the Slytherin table.

— It's just Nott, Vic. If he wants to hate me, I'll hate him back.

The girl shrugged, drawing Penny's gaze from across the table.

— No, Y/n. I heard they know who's back.

— What?

Y/n's eyes widened slightly, her body trembling. Her parents died in a suspicious and brutal manner while on a trip to the Ministry of Magic in London through dark magic, her uncles, born with pure blood, confirmed that probably some attacks on half-blood wizards are happening all of a result of among them

A week passed, and the news of Voldemort's return turned out to be true, making the seventh year more unsettling than ever. Gradually, half-blood students began disappearing, the common room grew emptier, classrooms quieter and less lively. Y/n had lost all focus on her studies. Dark days were casting a shadow over the wizarding world, and while all her classmates fled to safety with their families, she remained at Hogwarts, surrounded mostly by Slytherins who seemed unaffected.

On a rainy night, Y/n lingered longer than usual in the library, finishing her assignments. As she hurried back to her dorm, she noticed Draco Malfoy, Mattheo Riddle, and Theodore Nott standing casually against a wall, engaged in conversation. She lowered her head, bit her lip, and rolled her eyes, her heart racing. "Stupid, stop being silly, Y/n," she scolded herself silently, trying to slip by unnoticed. But Theodore, leaning against the wall and smoking a cigarette, chuckled and began to follow her. — No house to go back to, Y/n? Theodore's voice was mocking, prompting laughter from the three Slytherins echoing down the corridor. Theo couldn't help but wish Y/n would turn around, march over with that cute angry expression he secretly admired, and look him in the eye. — Your family didn't want you because you're a Mudblood?He taunted again, not bothering to face her.

— Fuck you, Theodore. Y/n muttered, stung by his words for the first time because deep down, she knew there was truth in them. Her pureblood uncles' allegiance to Voldemort left her with no safe haven at Hogwarts, just the hope of avoiding a grim fate. Without looking back, Whispered strode on, leaving Theodore to stew in his irritation at her avoidance. It had been over a month since she last met his gaze, and he hated how much he missed their confrontations.

— What did you say?

— What's this bablood still doing here?

Y/n heard Draco ask, his laughter joining Matteo's teasing remark: — Maybe the little lioness needs a cigarette to calm down. Meanwhile, she still heard Theodore's footsteps behind her.

— Hey, I'm talking to you, Mudblood. Theodore quickened his pace, grabbing her wrist, the first time their skin touched and it felt like she was burning against his.

— I said, FUCK YOU, NOTT, and don't fucking touch me. Y/n spun around so forcefully that her ponytail whipped across his face. In that instant, regret surged through her chest. Their eyes locked, and for a fleeting moment, she glimpsed a different side of him. — I'm sorry.

Her voice was barely a whisper as Y/n stumbled backwards, fleeing from the sight of the Slytherins as swiftly as the wind. She was scared, and Theodore saw it in her eyes, as clear as day. What Y/n didn't realize was that he was scared too.

In the days that passed, the school's security changed, which meant there was no security at all, not for her. This meant she felt safer inside her room than walking the corridors. Dumbledore was dead, teachers were as concerned as the remaining students at the school, and all this meant Y/n no longer appreciated meals, only eating when necessary. Theodore had noticed this minimal frequency, and the girl's tired appearance, who seemed not to sleep, began to worry him. He yelled at himself that he shouldn't be concerned.

One night, the Hufflepuff common room was completely deserted, doors wide open, and as Y/n repeated in her letters to her friends far away, there was no security at all. A strange noise from the other side of Whispered's room door made her rise from the bed where she was sitting and grip her wand tightly. When she was sure no one was there, she opened the door and looked at the plate of food on the floor, grabbed it, and placed it on her desk. She picked up the card beside it and read, 'I noticed you haven't been eating properly. It's important that you eat, bella.' Y/n stared at the plate for a few long minutes, afraid it might be poisoned, but when her stomach rumbled at the smell emanating from the food, her resistance was broken, and she quickly devoured the plate.

Over the next two weeks, similar things happened with several meals feeding Y/n when she didn't show up in the main hall. Over thirty cards accumulated in her drawer, and Y/n couldn't decipher all the Italian nicknames at the end of the notes, wondering who could be doing this.

Late one night, three days since Y/n had eaten anything, a knock on her door echoed, and without fear, Y/n opened it quickly, eager to see who was entering the Hufflepuff common room at such an hour. To her surprise, she saw Theodore Nott's figure quickly disappearing down the corridor.

— Hey! She shouted, running after him and grabbing his wrist just as he had done to her on several previous occasions. Her gaze fell upon him, looking unsure there.

— What are you doing? Y/n asked suspiciously.

— I can't be seen here — he murmured. Y/n stood still briefly until Nott pushed her back into the room.

— So what are you doing here? she asked again.

— You haven't been eating...

Theo said, pointing to the untouched food.

— That's not true. It was, but she didn't want to admit it to him.

— I know it is, dolcezza. Theo said, almost desperate, leaving Y/n confused.

— What are you still doing here, Y/n? Theodore asked, concerned, moving closer to Y/n, who for the first time didn't pull away from him in fear.

— I should be asking you what you were doing in my room. She said, ignoring his question. Theodore moved closer again, almost touching their noses.

— I'm serious, Y/n.

— I have nowhere else to go, Theodore. You were right, my family doesn't want me, so I'll stay. Is that okay with you? Y/n turned away from his gaze, walking away. — Thanks for the food, but you can go now.

— You have to leave. He whispered. Y/n shook her head, briefly glancing towards him without really meeting his eyes.

— Why are you worried?

— Because... because, I... He stuttered, unsure of what to say. — I... I want you to be okay, Y/n.

— Why? I'm a badblood,' as you all say, why does it matter? You never liked me, Theodore, I don't understand.

— Don't call yourself that way.

— Theodore.

The girl moaned and Theodore sighed worried.

— If they find you, they'll kill you. I...I...

— Theodore, you're not answering what I'm asking. Why are you worried?

— I don't know, Y/n. — Theo sat on the bed with his hands on his head and his arms on his knees, his eyes closed, and Y/n stood still in front of him. — I shouldn't, but I care about you.

— That doesn't make sense, you hate me, Theodore...

— No! I don't hate you. Theodore stood up quickly and approached her, almost touching their noses.

— But you always...

— I've always been an idiot because I wanted to get your attention. I wanted you to look at me. Theo said, closing his eyes and sighing in frustration.

— That makes no sense, Nott.

— No! It doesn't, but I don't know a better way to do it...

— Maybe act like a normal person?

— My mother would hate me for what I did to you and say I'm foolish. Theo muttered more to himself and ran his hands through his now longer hair.

— I think I've loved you since the first day you smiled at me, Bella. You have this thing, that pulls me to you. Theo whispered, and Y/n widened her eyes, expecting to find a prank.

— But you ran away...that's nonsense, how? Me and you, Theodore? What the hell are you talking about, my God. She laughed humorlessly and rushed away from the Italian's body, agitated. — Where's Matheo and Malfoy? Okay, YOU CAN COME IN NOW! I UNDERSTAND. She shouted at the door, desperate, and Theodore pulled her by the shoulders to look at him again.

— It's not a prank, Whispered. There's no one there, they know that, and it was them who told me to talk to you.

— You were about to run when I saw you, Theodore. She repeated. — I can't believe you could ever love a 'mudblood. She made air quotes with her fingers, and Theodore closed his eyes, groaning. — H-h-how could y-you love me, Theodore? She stuttered, feeling vulnerable, and suddenly Theodore's lips pressed against hers, the girl from her first day at Hogwarts was enchanted by Theo's beauty and intelligence, but when she realized he would never feel the same besides the eternal teasing resolved to slap her in chest of, now, doesn't

— Believe me, bella. Y/n nodded, getting lost in those deep blue eyes, and leaned in to kiss him once again, more harder. Their size difference didn't help at all, so Theo grabbed the girl's waist and set her on the desk in a way that she opened her legs to accommodate his body between them.

— The world is going to end, isn't it? — Y/n asked, placing kisses on Theodore's neck and fighting for the dominance he had previously taken, starting to distribute kisses along her neck.

— If no one stop this crazy wizard, yes, my princess. He said, giving wet kisses on Y/n's skin, making her moan and tilt her hips closer to his, seeking some friction against his pants.

— Fuck — she moaned once more, and Theodore found her lips again. His hand on her waist pulled her body closer to his, and Theodore groaned as he rubbed against the wet fabric of Y/n's panties with his hard erection.

— Shit, Y/n, you're so wet — He groaned this time, and Y/n nodded, clinging to him.

— Do you want to fuck me? Please do it, Teddy. She whimpered into Theodore's neck, who opened his mouth in ecstasy at the girl's words begging for him.

— Mia bellissima principessa, ti scoperò così bene. The Italian in Theo's voice made Y/n spread her legs wider in anticipation, seeking some friction against her clitoris.

— Please. — With that, Theo removed the girl's green lace panties, his provocative gaze falling on her form.

— Green panties? I think someone was longing for me. He said, biting the girl's shoulder, making her laugh.

— What can I do if... — Before she could finish her sentence, Theodore inserted two fingers inside her.

— So wet for me. — He groaned as he moved his fingers against her. — Such a good girl.

He repeated as she reached her peak, knowing she was close because he felt her tighten around his fingers. Just before she came, Theodore pulled his fingers out, provoking a frustrated moan from her, and removed his pants, revealing his erect cock with a red tip. Y/n's eyes shone in anticipation, and without him noticing, she got on her knees, grabbing his cock and pumping it before taking it into her mouth like a lollipop. After a few sucks, he pulled her back up, kissing her lips and smiling at her shiny lips. — I want to be inside you, principessa.

— Do it. — With that, Theodore spread her legs on the desk and plunged his cock into her.

— Damn, so tight. He moaned together with her as she smiled. Theo began to move at a fast pace, but not fast enough, making Y/n move her hips forward, trying to go faster. — So impatient. He said, then started to fuck her at a much quicker pace.

— Such a tight pussy for me. Theo moaned into her ear as the wet sounds filled the room.

— Fuck, Teddy, yes, uh-huh, fuck me like that. — She moaned loudly, and Theodore smiled with his neck buried in her neck, feeling her walls tighten around him.

— Are you going to cum for me, princess? Nott asked, and Y/n grunted, nodding. — Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock, I know you want to.

As he said those words, Y/n reached her climax, moaning loudly and panting, smiling, still feeling Theodore's release above her as he continued to fuck her through her orgasm. Y/n leaned into his ear and did what he did to her.

— Cum inside me, Teddy. — She moaned, and Theodore opened his mouth, obsessed with this girl. — Cum inside my pussy. Please. Put your babies inside me. She said, and with that, Theodore pushed in several times with erratic but deep thrusts, spilling all his cum inside the girl who was now drenched.

— Why did i never admit what i want, fuck Y/n. Theo groaned and hugged Y/n's tired body, pulling her close.

— You're an idiot.

— Totally, come on, let's clean you up.

As days went by, Y/n and Theo's secret rendezvous became more frequent: stolen kisses, clandestine meetings in their room unnoticed by Professor Snape. Y/n brought calm to Theo, and he brought solace to her. Until today.

A chilling laugh echoed through the Slytherin common room, and Blaise burst in, his face grave.

— They're here... Death Eaters have arrived at Hogwarts, and that spells trouble for Y/n.

—They're looking for her, Theo. Blaise added, and Theodore pushed the girl behind him protectively. — You need to hide, Y/n.

— WHO'S GOING TO CATCH THAT LITTLE RAT WHO WAS RUNNING AROUND? Bellatrix's voice boomed from the stairs, and Blaise shook his head before departing.

— I'll try to stall them. Figure out your next move, Theodore. With that, he left the room.

— Theo... Y/n called to him, but his focus was on strategizing how to save her.

— Theodore Nott. They'll kill you if they find out I'm here. Y/n placed her hands on his shoulders as he hyperventilated.

— They'll kill you, Y/n.

— They know I'm here, Theo. They want me because of my family's history.

— I can't let them take you. Theo shook his head, pulling the blonde into a tight embrace.

— It's going to be okay. She murmured, looking into his eyes.

— Apparate with me to my room and take me as if you found me. It'll be suspicious if they find you up here. She said resolutely until Theo looked at her face, realizing too late how much he loved her, and apparated to the ruined Hufflepuff common room.

They walked to the dungeons, and before proceeding, Theo turned to her, kissing her, resting his forehead against hers, and sighed.

— I'm sorry for being foolish for so long.

— I love you, Theodore Nott. I spent six weeks with you and it was enough to know that you have a much bigger heart than everyone said, And I know I was right when I fell in love with you since the day I first saw you at fourteen years old. It's going to be okay.

Those were her last words before being handed over to the Death Eaters.

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Requests are open💞

#harry potter x reader #theodore nott imagine #harry potter #lorenzo zurzolo #theo nott x y/n #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott x reader #theo fluff #theo nott x you #theodore nott angst #theo smut #theodorenottsmut #theodore nott smut #theodore nott

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gatorbites-imagines · 5 months ago

Note

Bakugou x male reader where Bakugou got a thing for lingerie so he buys some to try on but is a little self-conscious and kinda runs away to bathroom to hide so reader don't see him, reader comfortes/reassures him that ofc he's beautiful and pretty. after comes the fucking

Katsuki Bakugou x male reader

Headcanons

(Aged up characters, obviously)

Im not dead, how is everyone? Trying to get back into writing now that I have time. Not too smutty, more focused on the fluff, but I hope that’s still enjoyable.

Reader is based vaguely off Hiromi Higuruma from JJK, cuz im a sucker for tired lawyer type dudes.

Katsuki has always been the type of person to put on a tough front, that didn’t lessen after you two started dating. You met after he graduated UA and set up his own agency, when he needed the best legal help to set it all up.

He didn’t really know how to act around you in the beginning, with your dry humor and the fact that you didn’t take him too seriously. You had a quirk license, but you never once planned on being a hero, since the system was corrupt and broken in your eyes.

This also led to your guys first major argument, way before you started dating. But being forced to work together for months meant you guys grew closer. At this point Katsuki also learned about your quirk, which was the ability to see and use people’s karma against them.

This meant you could “see” when people were lying, but it was more of a sense than sight, but that’s the easiest way to explain it. it was also how you were able to point out quite early on that he was lying through his teeth when he snapped that he didn’t like you.

Being with somebody who could easily point out when he was bluffing or trying to hide how he really felt, was something Katsuki wouldn’t like in the beginning, since it meant he couldn’t use his usual defense mechanisms.

But as time passed, Katsuki was able to be himself more and more around you, seeing as you could always sense to some degree when he was hiding something, and all your court work meant you could easily tell when there was something he wanted to say but couldn’t get himself to do it.

It meant that Katsuki finally allowed himself to start exploring other parts of himself and his interests. Being soft and harmless has never been something the explosion hero had seen himself as, but with you it just came easy.

And if he imagined being your cute little househusband who would greet you when you get home form a difficult case, who would undo your tie for you and massage your shoulders, only to show you the silk pieces he wore in your favorite colors, then it was just for Katsuki.

Katsuki can’t explain what came over him when he bought the lingerie pieces he had been glancing at for months. Maybe it was the extra hours of hero work that left him loopy and exhausted, or it was that deep urge to be small, soft and pretty, instead of big, tough and strong,

He could deny ever having bought it, since you guys had your own personal finances. That was until it came in the mail, in a nondescriptive box that just looked like any other package. It had Katsuki thinking it was something random he had bought, until he opened it up and was met with soft pink tissue paper and a personalized “thank you for supporting my small business” card.

The stickers, raspberry candies, and a guide on how to wash and care for the lace, was shoved aside. Bakugou went bright red as he pulled the tissue paper open and saw with his own eyes the pieces custom made for his build, in the softest of pinks and whites.

Part of him wanted to just throw it away, even if hed spent way too much money on it. but another part of Katsuki was excited, a soft shudder run down his spine as he rubbed the material between his calloused fingers. Maybe he could just… try it on. That didn’t mean he had to use it for anything, right?

It didn’t take Katsuki long to move into the bathroom across from your shared bedroom. It was large enough for both of you to have your space, but most importantly, it had a large mirror where you could see yourself with ease.

In his nervous excitement, Katsuki didn’t realize the guide for caring about said lingerie had been brushed to the floor, just barely tucked under the kitchen table where hed dumped the other packages you guys had received.

The blonde was a blushing mess as he tucked the lingerie on, breathing shaky and uneven as he felt the soft delicate lace and fabrics brushing against his muscular scarred body. Hed always looked strong and dangerous, but like this he could almost see himself as… delicate.

The shape of the lingerie made his already small waist seem smaller, whilst also supporting his pecs and squeezing around his thighs in ways he knew would have your hands twitching with the urge to grab.

Katsuki was too distracted with admiring himself to notice you arriving home, your tired voice calling out to him as you knew he would be around. His silence had you raising a brow as you tucked off your coat and tie.

The pile of packages wasn’t anything new. Being a hero meant Katsuki got a lot of mail shipped directly to him, and you got things every now and then too, though it was normally thank you gifts from clients.

The soft pink paper under the table caught your attention, and after picking it up you could help but huff softly in interest. Was Katsuki trying to surprise you? How sweet. Better not keep him waiting then.

Your quirk allowed you to see vague splashes of color and waves, each color and swirl showing different feelings and intensities of said feelings. His embarrassment and arousal had you softly chuckling to yourself. The shame and fear mixed into it was worrying though.

It wasn’t hard to figure out where he was. If the light under the bathroom door wasn’t enough to tell you, then the intense swirls of colors radiating through the doors cracks was another sign. This truly made him feel good, you could tell. It also meant you felt bad that he hadn’t come to you with this before, as it clearly made him feel some type of way.

“Katsuki?” you pipe up, knocking softly on the door, eyes locked onto the swirls of color and waves that seemed to twist and turn, wanting to gauge his reactions and feelings. The flashes of new colors and erratic waving made you frown. Why was he scared? Self-conscious?

You didn’t say anything about what you had found in the kitchen, instead letting Katsuki take all the time he needed to answer. A gruff but meek “what?” snapping through the door.

Inside the bathroom Katsuki started to feel horrible, wrapping his arms around himself. Hed been so distracted oogling at his body and the lace that he hadn’t even noticed you coming home, what type of hero was he to not realize?

The self-conscious feelings welled up, the imperfections he couldn’t see before almost blowing up to a much larger, much more noticeable scale. Why would you find him attractive like this? All muscles, sharp edges and ugly scars?

“What are you doing, honey?” you hum, keeping patient and open. Sure, you were jittery with the want to see him in whatever he had bought, but it was clear Katsuki was uncomfortable, mostly with himself than anything.

“Just- fuck. Go away for a moment, ill be out” he snapped, voice raising a few octaves that told you he was starting to get distressed. Katsuki couldn’t figure out why his eyes were welling up, or why he felt so weak and vulnerable like this. But the very thought of you seeing him like this and rejecting him felt worse than any wound he had ever gotten.

“What if I want to see” you mumble, close enough to the door to know he would hear you. Your quirk let you see the rapid fluctuations in the colors and swirls. Shock, annoyance, depressive self-hate, self-consciousness, begrudging acceptance.

He clearly wanted to demand to know how you knew what he was wearing, but Katsuki grumbled a little to himself. Of course you knew, you knew everything, you weren’t heroes go-to lawyer for no reason.

You took a small step back as the door unlocked, and nothing could have prepared you for the sight that would meet you. A hot breath was puffed out your nose as Katsuki stood so meekly before you, scarred arms still protectively wrapped around himself.

The longer you went without speaking, the more distressed your lover seemed to get, his red eyes

flicking from your face to the wall to the floor as he worried at his lip.

Finally, your explosive lover seemed to snap, throwing his arms out in a frustrated “say something for fuck sake!”, his eyes wide but shiny in a way that spoke of tears. His usual posturing and loud tone didn’t really have the same effect when he was wearing that pretty lingerie, and he was flushed so prettily in the face.

“you’re so pretty…” you finally muster out, his still locked to his face and body, hands clenched at your sides as familiar heat bloomed inside you like hot syrup. It wasn’t the usual ravenous hunger that had you bending him over the kitchen counter, or shoving him under your desk in your office, but it was similar.

He scoffed at your words, but his redder face and the bright colors swirling around him made it clear he felt flattered and noticed, a soft whimpered noise leaving his clenched lips when you finally started to touch him.

It was strange to have your usually self-assured and decided lover shuddering and gasping weakly from your hands just running up and down his sides, brushing against the delicate lace and the different stitches and patterns.

“s-stop saying stupid shit” he mumbled, his voice even sounding softer and more vulnerable than Katsuki normally allowed himself to be. The tone of Katsuki’s voice jumped up into a yelp as your hands grasp at his pecs, petting at his nipples through the sheer fabric, already so hard and sensitive from all his self-admiration earlier.

“If you don’t believe me, let me show you” you grumble out, finally looking Katsuki in the eyes with the look of a wolf about to eat its prey. The explosion of bright colors around Katsuki was euphoric in your eyes, even as he yelped when you picked him up with ease. The bedroom was right across the hall, but that wouldn’t stop you from carrying him there.

Katsuki wrapped his arms around his chest again as you laid him carefully on your shared bed, too flustered to look you in the eye. But you knew he wanted too, he was just to shy to allow himself to feel this way, which just meant you had to show him.

The gasped yelp that left him as you slide his thighs apart brought a hungry smirk to your face, Katsuki’s wide red eyes finally snapping to your own as you slowly slide lower and lower between them. You would make sure Katsuki felt more confident before the night was over, that was a promise.

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totheblood · 1 year ago

Text

begging for rain. (three)

󠁐# THREE; the harder that it takes to undo

PAIRING: ex!ellie williams x nextdoorneighbor!reader

SUMMARY: moving to a new town can be tough, especially as you are trying to hold everything in your life together. after you meet ellie, your life completely changes, but for the better? well that's still up in the air

WARNINGS: mentions of death, grief, related subjects; cursing, mentions of drinking/drugs, mentions of s*x,

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

A/N : ok this was the longest chapter i've written to date so... please enjoy.... ONE AI AUDIOS IN THE FIC ! please please please like and reblog/reply/send asks, comments, the whole nine yards… it is so appreciated!

TWO YEARS AGO

It felt weird to be in Ellie’s house.

Ellie opened the door to a cozy living room with warm beige walls and wicker furniture that had been well-worn by time. An old acoustic guitar leaned against one wall and a record player sat atop an end table, surrounded by piles of vintage vinyl. The air was thick with the aroma of coffee and old books, creating a comforting ambiance. Family photos and posters dotted the walls, giving an insight into Ellie's life that made you feel like a intruder but also made you want to know more.

"Nice place," you said, removing your shoes at the door.

"Thanks," Ellie smiled, leading you to the living room. "You can drop your stuff there. We'll study at the table."

You took a seat at the sturdy oak dining table and ran your fingers over its smooth surface before settling into it. Scattered papers littered the table, some lined with handwritten lyrics, others with doodles intertwined in colored ink. You opened up your English books and laid out your homework, feeling a sense of warmth emanating from the room. The aged furniture added an air of familiarity, like you were being invited into Ellie's private world. Ellie seemed to be working on physics homework, while you had an English essay on Shakespeare to tackle. The juxtaposition wasn't lost on you—Ellie with equations and you with Elizabethan English.

You both settled into your work, the atmosphere tinged with concentration. Occasionally, your eyes would drift towards Ellie, watching her brows furrow in thought or her lips move silently as she read through her notes. Each time, you'd catch yourself and refocus on your own work.

"So, how are you finding the essay?" she finally broke the silence.

"It's... okay, I guess. Mrs. Porter has a way of making Shakespeare sound like rocket science."

Ellie chuckled. "Ah, the age-old struggle. To be or not to be confused, that is the question."

You laughed, and for a moment, the tension of the day seemed to lift. "You're not so bad at this, you know," you said. "Maybe you should consider a career in stand-up."

"And give up my dream of becoming a rockstar physicist?" she feigned surprise. "Never."

You smiled at her enthusiasm. "A rockstar physicist, huh? That's a first."

"Well, what about you? Any grand plans?"

You hesitated, thinking about your dad for a moment. You blinked, looking down at the book in front of you before looking back up at Ellie. "I'm not sure. I used to think I had it all figured out, but now... everything's so uncertain."

Ellie put down her pen and looked at you, her green eyes softening. "Uncertainty isn't always bad, you know. Sometimes it's just room for something new, something better."

You looked at her, really looked at her, and felt something shift inside you. "That's pretty wise for a 17-year-old."

She blushed a little, turning her attention back to her notebook. "Well, don't spread it around. I have a reputation to maintain. Plus, I’m almost 18."

The rest of the study session went smoothly. You’d occasionally sigh and drop your head in frustration, making Ellie stifle a giggle and demand you get back to work. You had only known her for a day and was already falling into a rhythm with her. You didn’t want to go home, but the sun was beginning to set and you wanted time to rest. Time to think about the day you had and try to make sense of it. When it was time to leave, Ellie walked you to the door.

"Thanks for coming over. It was fun," she said, her hands twisting together.

"Yeah, I had a good time too," you replied, feeling a strange mix of happiness and reluctance to leave.

As you stepped out into the cool evening air, Ellie's words echoed in your mind: "Uncertainty isn't always bad... it's just room for something new, something better." And as you walked back across the dirt path to your house, you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, something new and better had already begun.

You walked into your room, shutting the door behind you as if to seal off the world outside. It was your sanctuary, a little haven where you could breathe, think, and just be. You tossed your backpack onto the bed and sank into your chair, letting out a sigh as you looked around. Your room was still a mix of unpacked boxes and half-arranged furniture—a physical representation of your current state of mind, unsettled yet hopeful.

Picking up your phone, you noticed you had an unread Instagram DM. Your heart skipped a beat; could it be Ellie? Unlocking your phone, you saw the message was from Ingrid. Curiosity piqued, you opened.

ingrid.xoxo: Hey there, newbie. How was your first day?

You felt strange reading her message. Like it was something you weren’t supposed to be doing. Was she just being friendly or was there something more? You quickly typed back.

y/nsworld: hey! It was a little overwhelming but good overall. how was your day?

Almost instantly, she replied.

ingrid.xoxo: Same old, same old. But seeing a fresh face around made it more interesting. 😉

The winking emoji caught your attention. Was she flirting? A little flutter of excitement mixed with confusion settled in your stomach.

Before you could process it further, the front door opened and closed loudly. It was your mom, finally home from work. You heard her footsteps coming up the stairs, and a few seconds later, she knocked on your door.

"Come in," you called.

The door swung open and your mom stepped in, her face tired but lighting up when she saw you. "Hey, sweetheart. How was your first day at the new school?"

You looked at her and smiled. "It was good, Mom. Made some new friends, and Ellie from next door is really nice. I went there and studied after school."

"That's wonderful," she said, her eyes shining with relief. "I was so worried you'd have a hard time adjusting."

"I mean, it's still the first day, but so far, so good," you said, shrugging. The relief on your mom’s face made you uneasy. You wanted to make this transition easy for both of you, but there was a newfound pressure building inside of you. You had to make it work here, even if you were unhappy. There was no escaping this place, and you suddenly felt trapped. Before your mind could go any further, she was speaking again.

"That's my brave girl," she said, coming over to give you a hug. "I'm so proud of you."

As she left the room and wished you a goodnight with a firm kiss pressed to the top of your head, you sat back and sighed. Your phone buzzed again. Another message from Ingrid.

ingrid.xoxo: So, got any plans for the weekend? Maybe you'd like a tour guide to show you around. 😊

There it was again, that undercurrent of something more than just friendliness. You found yourself smiling, both intrigued and uncertain. It was as if life, in its own whimsical way, was presenting new possibilities, each more complicated than the last.

You glanced back at the door, then at your phone, then at the unpacked boxes still sitting in your room. Everything felt like a question mark, and as Ellie had wisely noted, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing after all.

Lying back on your bed, you stared up at the ceiling, pondering your response to Ingrid, your new friendships, and the unpredictability of life itself. Uncertainty, as it turns out, could indeed be the room for something new, something better.

And so, with a mix of excitement and apprehension, you typed out your reply to Ingrid, hitting send before you could second-guess yourself.

y/nsworld: a tour guide sounds fun. i'm in. :)

PRESENT DAY

When Ellie's text popped up on your phone two days ago, you almost deleted it without reading it. The mere sight of her name on your screen was like a splinter you couldn't remove—small but persistently painful. She wrote that she missed your friendship, and though you wanted to scoff at her audacity, a part of you hesitated. Her words, "Can we at least talk? Just as friends?" echoed in your mind. Against your better judgment, a wave of nostalgia washed over you, and before you knew it, you found yourself typing, "Fine, but this doesn't mean anything." Now, as you stepped into the quaint coffee shop where so many of your past memories were brewed, you questioned that decision.

"You're early," Ellie remarked, her voice as flat as the expression on her face.

"I had nothing better to do," you responded, matching her tone as you stepped into the coffee shop. It was almost empty, the aroma of freshly ground coffee mingling with the subtle tension that had settled between you two.

"Of course, you didn't," Ellie sighed, sliding a cup of coffee your way across the wooden table. On it was marked with your order, two pumps of hazelnut, two pumps of vanilla, and one pump of almond, extra cream.

You looked at the cup, then back at Ellie. "You remembered how I like my coffee."

"I'm not completely useless."

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip while simultaneously biting your tongue. You had every right to tell her she was useless, but you refrained. It was perfect, just the way you liked it. "What do you want, Ellie?"

Ellie sighed, looking uncomfortable for a moment before speaking, "I wanted to talk. About us."

You almost snorted into your coffee. "Us? There is no 'us'. Not anymore."

"I know I messed up, okay? But can't we at least—"

"Messed up?" you cut her off, feeling the familiar surge of anger rise within you. "You didn't just 'mess up', Ellie. You broke something. Something that can't be fixed."

Ellie flinched as if you had slapped her. The look on her face almost making you feel guilty. But she didn’t have that right anymore, and you weren’t about to let her back in.

"I know. And I'll regret that for the rest of my life. But can't we at least try to be civil? For the sake of our friends, if not for us?"

You looked at her, really looked at her, and for a moment you were back in her living room, struggling with physics homework and discussing the uncertainties of life. Back when things were simpler, easier. But that was a different time, a different you, and most importantly, a different Ellie.

"Being civil is a far cry from what you're suggesting," you said finally, breaking the silence.

Ellie sighed. "I know I don't deserve a second chance. Hell, I don't even deserve your friendship. But can't we at least try to be... something?"

You stared at her, pondering her words. The Ellie sitting in front of you now seemed so different from the girl you had fallen for. And yet, there were moments, fleeting seconds, when you could almost see traces of the old Ellie—the one who made you laugh, who made you think, who made you feel like you were the only person in the world.

But those traces were just that—fleeting and insubstantial. The real Ellie, the one sitting in front of you, was a reminder of a chapter you had painfully closed.

"We can try," you said finally, "but I can't promise anything."

Ellie nodded, a mixture of relief and regret flashing across her face. "I guess that's all I can ask for."

As you both sipped your coffee in silence, the weight of what was left unsaid hung heavy in the air. And yet, for the first time in a long time, it felt like you could both breathe a little easier.

But as Ellie's eyes met yours, you couldn't help but wonder: in the quest for something new, something better, had you both lost something irreplaceable? There was something substantially broken between the two of you now, innocence on both parts lost.

TWO YEARS AGO

You found yourself standing in front of your bathroom mirror, staring at your reflection as you pondered what to wear for this so-called 'tour' with Ingrid. You wondered if you should aim for casual or if Ingrid, with her meticulous style, would expect something more. After rummaging through your wardrobe, you settled on a simple pair of jeans and a loose-fitting white shirt. Casual, yet presentable. You threw on a light jacket, considering the morning chill, and took one last look in the mirror. Satisfied but not entirely confident, you grabbed your phone and headed downstairs. Your mom was sitting at the dining room table, bowl of cereal in front of her with her spoon in one hand and phone in the other.

"Going out?" Your mom looked up from her phone, her eyes scanning your outfit.

"Yeah, a girl from school is showing me around town."

"Ah, great. Text me if you need anything." Her eyes returned to her phone, but not before you caught the fleeting look of relief. There the pressure was again, and in turn your sinking stomach.

"See you later, Mom," you said, heading for the door.

"Have fun, sweetheart!" she called out as you closed the door behind you.

As you approached Ingrid's car, you noticed her already leaning against it. She was wearing what could only be described as the epitome of 'casual chic'—ripped jeans, a designer top, and a pair of sunglasses perched effortlessly on her head. She looked up from her phone and greeted you with a broad, almost rehearsed, smile.

"Ready for your grand tour?" Ingrid inquired, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than you were comfortable with.

"Ready as I'll ever be," you replied, cautiously optimistic about the day ahead.

The interior of Ingrid's car was as meticulously maintained as her appearance. The leather seats were pristine, and the air was scented with something floral, bordering on overpowering. She started the engine, and you were off.

The first few minutes were filled with awkward silence. You sensed that Ingrid was waiting for you to initiate conversation, but you were too wrapped up in your thoughts to open your mouth to speak. Finally, she broke the ice.

"So, first stop, the infamous Longview Park. You'll love it—it's where everyone hangs out," she said, her voice tinged with enthusiasm that sounded slightly rehearsed.

"That sounds fun," you responded, forcing a smile.

As you drove through the town, Ingrid began to pepper you with questions. They started off harmless enough—questions about your old town, your interests, your favorite movies. But as the drive continued, the questions began to probe deeper.

"So, why did you move here? If you don't mind me asking," she added hastily, as though realizing she might be venturing into sensitive territory.

"My dad passed away. We couldn’t afford to live there anymore, so we had to move," you replied, trying to maintain composure. You had rehearsed this response, but it still felt like you were ripping off a Band-Aid every time you said it.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ingrid responded, her voice softening for the first time that morning. But before you could reply, she was off again. "Are you seeing anyone?"

The abrupt switch in topic caught you off-guard. "Uh, no, not right now," you stammered.

"Really? Someone as hot as you? I find that hard to believe," she said, her eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to the road.

"Um, thanks," you muttered, not entirely sure how to interpret the compliment.

Ingrid seemed to take your discomfort as a cue to change the subject. "We're almost at Longview Park. It's truly the heart of our community," she declared, as if rehearsed.

As you pulled into the parking lot of Longview Park, you took a deep breath. It was time to see what this 'heart of the community' was all about.

he car rolled to a stop, and Ingrid switched off the engine, her eyes twinkling like she was unveiling a secret treasure. "And here we are—Longview Park. It's like the social hub of our high school world."

You opened the car door and stepped out, looking around. The park was sizable, dotted with large oaks and willows that offered generous shade. A playground occupied one corner, bustling with the laughter of children, while a pond shimmered peacefully in the mid-morning sun. People were everywhere—jogging, playing Frisbee, or simply lounging on the grass. It had a communal feel.

Ingrid led you along a gravel path, her steps confident and rehearsed as if she'd walked this path a thousand times before. "See that gazebo over there?" she pointed, "That's like the unofficial meet-up spot for parties and hangouts. And over there is the infamous 'Lovers' Lane' where couples go to... well, you know."

Her words were punctuated with a suggestive wink that made you feel slightly uncomfortable. You chuckled nervously, trying to dispel the awkwardness.

As you walked, you couldn't help but notice the way people looked at Ingrid—long enough to show interest but not too long to risk her noticing. She seemed to command attention effortlessly, and you couldn't tell if it was her charisma or if you were completely missing something

"Everyone loves to be here on weekends," Ingrid continued, her tone casual but her eyes scanning the area, as if looking for someone or something in particular. "It's a great place to catch up with friends or make new ones. Like we're doing right now."

She shot you a smile, the kind that was meant to be endearing but felt slightly off-mark. You returned it nonetheless. "It's a nice place. Very... lively," you said, choosing your words carefully.

As you neared the pond, you spotted a familiar face sitting on one of the benches—Cat. And next to her, unmistakably, was Ellie. They seemed engrossed in conversation, their faces inches apart. A pang of something—was it jealousy?—stabbed at you, but you quickly brushed it aside.

"Hey, look who it is!" Ingrid's voice brought you back to reality. She had followed your gaze and was now staring directly at Ellie and Cat. "Want to go say hi?"

You hesitated. The last thing you wanted was an awkward run-in, but before you could voice your concerns, Ingrid had already started walking toward them.

"Hey Cat, Ellie!" she called out, her voice unnaturally high. Both heads turned in your direction, and the range of emotions that crossed their faces in that brief moment was unsettling—surprise, confusion, and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on.

"Hey Ingrid," Ellie finally spoke, her eyes meeting yours for a fleeting second before returning to Ingrid. "What brings you here?"

"Just giving our new resident a grand tour of Longview Park," Ingrid replied, her arm casually draping over your shoulder. You felt a shiver run down your spine but chose to ignore it.

"That's nice of you," Cat chimed in, her eyes narrowing slightly as they settled on you. You couldn't tell if she was being sincere or just sizing you up.

"Yeah, it's been fun," you said, forcing a smile. But your eyes met Ellie's once more, and the unspoken words hung heavily in the air between you.

"Well, we won't keep you," Ingrid said abruptly, as if sensing the tension. "Lots more to see. Come on," she tugged at your arm lightly, and you followed her back to the path, leaving Ellie and Cat behind.

As you walked away, you felt Ellie's gaze burning into your back. You wanted to look back, to catch one last glimpse of her, but you resisted. Whatever was or wasn't happening between you and Ellie would have to wait. Right now, you were on Ingrid's turf, and you couldn't help but feel like a pawn in a much larger game.

"Shall we continue?" Ingrid asked, breaking the silence.

"Sure," you replied, but your thoughts were already miles away.

The door clicked shut as you slid into the passenger seat, your thoughts still reeling from the encounter at the park. Ingrid revved up the engine and pulled away, humming softly to the beat of the song playing on the radio. You looked over at her, everything about her seemed staged.

"How did you like the park?" she asked, casting a quick glance in your direction.

"It was... interesting," you said cautiously. "It's a nice place, very lively. Lots of history, I imagine."

Ingrid chuckled. "Oh, you have no idea. It's like the theater of high school drama. Anything and everything happens there."

Her words hung in the air, and you couldn't help but feel like there was a deeper meaning behind them. But before you could ponder it further, your phone buzzed. Glancing down, you saw Ellie's name flash on the screen.

Ellie: hey. can we talk later?

You felt a mixed bag of emotions, but you were mostly nervous. You hadn’t taken the group's warning and hung out with Ingrid anyays. It wasn’t like she was two fingers deep inside of you, but with the way Cat and Ellie looked, it seemed that way. You were about to type a response when you noticed Ingrid's eyes flicking toward your phone screen, then back to the road.

"Who's that?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes betraying a hint of curiosity.

"Just a friend," you said, choosing your words carefully. "We're supposed to catch up later."

"Oh," she responded, but you could sense a change in her demeanor, a tightening around her eyes. "Well, I hope I'm not keeping you from anything important."

"No, not at all," you reassured her, quickly typing a response to Ellie. "Sure, let's talk. Text me when you're free."

As you pressed send, you couldn't help but wonder about the timing. Why did Ellie want to talk now? And what was it about? Your thoughts were interrupted by Ingrid turning up the volume on the radio, her fingers drumming rhythmically on the steering wheel.

"So," she began, breaking the momentary silence, "we've covered quite a bit today. Any highlights?"

You pondered the question. "Well, the park was a highlight, I guess. It's always good to know where people hang out. Makes me feel less like an outsider."

Ingrid smiled, but there was something about it that made you uneasy. "You're not an outsider, you know. You're just new, and new can be exciting."

"Thanks," you said, your phone buzzing again. This time it was a text from your mom asking about your day.

Feeling the need to switch gears, you asked, "So, how long have you been living here? You seem to know everyone and everything."

"Born and raised," she declared proudly. "It has its pros and cons, but I like it. And yes, I do know a lot of people, but it's not hard when you grow up here. Everyone kind of knows everyone."

"That must be nice," you said, though a part of you wondered what it would be like to have that much history in one place—so many connections, but also so many ties that could bind you.

"Yeah," she paused, her expression turning serious. "But it can also be a bit suffocating, you know? Sometimes you just want to break free, start fresh somewhere new. Like you."

You looked at her, intrigued by this sudden glimpse into her thoughts. "Well, starting fresh isn't as glamorous as it seems. It has its own ups and downs."

"True," she conceded. "But at least it's a blank slate."

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed again. Another text from Ellie.

Ellie: i really need to talk to you. it's important.

This time, you couldn't ignore the urgency in her message. Something was up, something significant. You looked up to find Ingrid watching you, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, but her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

You hesitated, weighing your options. "Actually, I might need to cut our day short. Something's come up at home."

Ingrid's eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw something flicker in them—disappointment, perhaps, or maybe something else.

"Of course," she said, finally breaking eye contact. "Life happens. Let's get you home."

You stepped out of Ingrid's car, waving goodbye as she drove off. Your phone buzzed as you approached your front door, another text from Ellie.

Ellie: can you meet me at the grind? it’s about two blocks away from our house. i can drive us back.

You texted back a quick "on my way" and made your way over.

Ten minutes later, you walked into The Grind, the local coffee shop where the whole town seemed to be at this moment. As you scanned the room, your eyes met Ellie's. She was seated at a corner table, her phone face down and her fingers nervously tapping a rhythm against her coffee mug.

"Hey," you greeted as you approached, pulling out the chair across from her.

"Hey," Ellie replied, her eyes meeting yours briefly before averting. "Thanks for coming."

"No problem. Sounded like it was urgent. What's up?"

"I saw you today," she began cautiously, "with Ingrid."

A knot formed in your stomach. "Yeah, she was showing me around. Why?"

Ellie hesitated, looking down at her mug, and tapping the handle. She closed her eyes for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "Be careful with her. She's not what she seems."

"I mean I heard what you guys said about her at lunc but," you replied, taking a sip of your coffee. "She seems harmless."

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair. Cut right above her shoulders, the choppy layers suited her face. "Ingrid has a way of getting close to people, and it's not always for the right reasons. I just don't want you to get hurt."

Your eyes met, and you felt a strange warmth spread through you. Ellie was concerned for you. But why? She had only known you a day. You searched her face for an answer, for anything, but you came up short.

"Do you have something against her?" you asked, not hiding your skepticism.

"No," Ellie was quick to respond, "it's not like that. I've just seen her ruin friendships, relationships. She's manipulative."

"You seem serious," you remarked, detecting a tinge of something in her voice—was it jealousy?

Ellie looked down at her mug, her fingers ceasing their tapping. "I just don't want history to repeat itself, okay?"

"History?" you questioned, leaning forward. "What happened?"

She looked up again, her eyes meeting yours again, but this time they were vulnerable, exposed. "Ingrid and I had a thing once. And it felt more serious than her ‘things’ with Cat and Dina. And let's just say it didn't end well."

Now it made sense. The hints, the caution—it was personal for Ellie.

She held your gaze, her eyes searching yours for something you couldn't name. "Also," she paused, as if weighing whether to continue, "You’re my friend now. I care about you. And I don't want to see you get hurt."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air was thick with unspoken words.

You finally broke the silence. "Thank you for telling me, Ellie. I appreciate it."

She nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, yeah. Of course"

As you left The Grind, your thoughts were a swirl of confusion and clarity. Ellie's concern had added another layer to the already complicated dynamic of your new life. But through it all, one thing became clear—Ellie cared about you, maybe more than she was willing to admit.

And as you replayed the conversation in your mind, you couldn't shake the feeling that Ellie wasn't just warning you about Ingrid. She was also staking her claim, marking her territory in a landscape that was becoming increasingly complicated.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader smut #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fan fic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams oneshot #modern!ellie williams #college!ellie williams #ellie williams one shot

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justwinginglife · 3 months ago

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May I have a request for Hoshina with a s/o who have a ability to heal people? It's either injuries or even broken bones. She's a doctor (or medic) in the defense force, she didn't use ability unless its very serious. She's not even a kaiju.

Imagine when Hoshina was in life and death situation or brink of death dealing a tough opponent/Kaiju she saved him with her abilities and he woke up fully healed. She explained to him she have these abilities of hers, since she was born.

Very interesting prompt, sorry for the wait and thanks for being patient. It definitely was difficult for me to figure out how to work the healing powers into a universe that doesn’t have powers so I hope what I went with turned out okay. Also fun fact- this post could've been significantly better but it accidentally got deleted somehow and I had to start all over from the beginning and try to remember what I wrote and it was so devastating so the writing is definitely not as good as it could've been.

A Reason To Live

Your mother was a freak of nature and apparently it was genetic.

You’d been told she was already strong, already tough, already fast, like all the women on her family’s side, even to the point of being declared superhuman but it wasn’t enough for her. She’d lost her husband and all her children to the Kaiju and she’d never be able to repair that damage to herself, that feeling of never being enough, much as she tried to through lengthy experimentation and numerous scientific enhancements to her body. Eventually, the stress of being pregnant with the last child her dead husband would ever give her overwhelmed her heart and she passed on.

You were born as the result of all that experimentation and that, mixed with your already inhuman genetics led to an interesting development, one that had never been heard of before. You had the power to heal. And nothing else.

You thought it a useless power at first. You were so focused on being the failure of your bloodline. You had planned on joining the Defense Force, like your whole family had before you- anything to feel connected to them. But whatever it was that made them outstanding, you didn’t have it, you didn’t have their strength or their speed, and you were devastated at the thought that your bloodline would die with your unimpressive self.

Then, one day when you were walking home, you noticed a tourist standing on the edge of a bridge. Before you realized how desperately they were eying the murky waters below, they jumped. Unable to catch them in time, you cursed your own inadequacies again as you ran to pull their limp body from the river. As you dragged them to the bank, you realized they were still alive, but just barely. They were badly injured but had enough life in them to whisper their regrets, to murmur they actually did want to live. And it touched something deep inside you, awakened some ancient power, and you healed them like it was second nature.

Saving them made you realize that even though you couldn’t shoot a gun or swing a sword for shit, you could still make a difference. So you became a doctor, only saving your powers for the most serious of cases, but studying your ass off so hard you almost didn’t need to use your gift.

And for the first time in your life, you were content, you made peace with your strengths and your weakness, and you felt like you actually had a purpose. You almost didn’t even realize you were missing anything in life until you made the acquaintance of one Soshiro Hoshina. You had been okay just being content with your life but he made you experience more than just contentment- he made your life blissful.

You couldn't imagine what you'd do without him constantly making excuses to see you. He'd bring in officers, any officers at all, and claim they needed treatment for rug burns or paper cuts, anything he could do to see you, to be near you.

He'd bring you your favorite coffee every morning just to be the first one to say good morning to you and put a smile on your face.

He'd even wait for you to finish work so he could walk you home, saying that it wasn't safe for such a gorgeous woman like you to be alone at night.

Sometimes you were glad you were weaker than him, so you could rely on his strength. And he loved that you relied on him, he loved to provide for you, to protect you.

But on some occasions, today in particular, those familiar insecurities would crawl their way back up to the surface reminding you just how weak you really were.

Today he was hurt. Badly. And all you could do was sit and wait for them to bring him to you on the verge of death. You would have given anything to be able to fight by his side, to protect him so he wouldn’t even need your healing in the first place. Sometimes you were scared you wouldn’t be able to heal him, wouldn’t be able to save him, he'd be too far gone. Maybe one day he wouldn’t even survive the journey back to you. Then what would you do? How would you go on with your life? Could you find contentment again? You didn't think so.

He'd even smiled at you weakly when they first brought him in. He was always trying to comfort you when he was the one that needed comfort. You thought you might just die right there beside him if you couldn't see that smile again.

You cleared everyone out of the clinic, anxious to start treating him. No one knew about your powers but you didn't want to waste time trying to treat him without them, he meant too much for you to start with conventional methods. So you kicked everyone out and got to work healing him.

You thought this might be the day your powers failed you as he didn't seem to be responding. But then you heard a groan and his eyes blinked open. You sighed, the sound thick with relief.

"Love, I know you're a good doctor but this is something else." He lifted his arms and examined every square inch of skin, trying to process the complete lack of an injury anywhere.

"Guess you weren't hurt that badly." You muttered nervously, trying to figure out how you were going to explain this to him.

He raised an eyebrow. "Dearest, my life was flashing before my eyes, I think might've actually been dying. So whatever you did, you did a hell of a job."

"Well I'm just glad you're okay." You were eager to drag him away from the topic.

"You know... I saw you, out there. Out on the battlefield when I thought I was dying. Couldn't think of anything else. You're my whole world."

You bit back tears. "And y-you're mine. So don't go dying on me again, okay? Promise."

He chuckled. "Can't do that love, but I'll do my best not to die on you anytime soon. Now are you gonna tell me how you yanked me back from the Underworld?"

You bit your lip.

He ran his thumb over your lip, forcing your teeth to release it. "It's okay baby, it's just me. You can tell me anything."

You nodded slowly. "I know, I know, love. It's just... it's complicated."

He sat up in bed, wanting to give you his full attention and support.

You got in the bed with him, not wanting to look at him but not wanting to be far from him, so you snuggled up against his chest as you told him everything.

He was surprisingly very receptive to the whole situation. Even cracked jokes about being able to get into more trouble now that he knew you could save him like that, which earned him one hell of a lecture from you about staying out of danger best he could.

As much as you liked when he visited your clinic, you never wanted him to visit on a gurney. You weren't sure your heart could take anymore scares. After being so lost for most of your life, you finally found a reason for living and you'd be damned if you'd let that slip away from you.

He held you close the rest of the night and reassured you with many sweet promises that he would be careful and that he'd try not to do anything to endanger his future with you. Once you were satisfied, you fell asleep in his arms. It was a weight off your chest to finally tell him the one thing you'd been keeping from him and you slept soundly against him, knowing he now had every part of you.

He slept just as soundly, comforted by the thought of having every part of you for life.

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina #anime #oneshot #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader

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natsaffection · 1 year ago

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hi 👋 how are you??

im having stressful exams this month, a lot of tough subjects, and i'm so frustrated with it all. could you please share your thoughts on how natty would handle r in a situation like this? maybe in the "my sweet baby" universe??

if you can, thank you so much, my love 💖

Together. | N. Romanoff

Sugar Mommy!Natasha x Sugar Baby!Reader

warnings: Just fluff🍀🍀

words: 947

A/n: Please take care of yourself if it gets too much, drink cocoa, and do other fun and relaxing things!!☕️

Now you're sitting in front of it again. One stack after the other, and it just didn't stop?

Why did you decide to do it again? Ah...Right...Future...

You were a bit frustrated, you had imagined your days to be different from sitting in Natasha's living room and cramming for hours. Natasha was also busy with herself in a meeting, and you couldn't help but take a leaf out of her book. Maybe one day you will be as successful as her..Run your own business someday.

CEO Of the L/N Company..Sounds good already....

"What are you thinking about?" As if she knew you were thinking about her right now, Natasha stands in the room and looks at you smiling, you sigh and put the stapler you had in your hand on the table, "Can't I just start with you?" Natasha could hear the frustration in your voice, and when she saw all the paper stuff she knew exactly what you meant. You see her looking at you with an unfamiliar look and suddenly she’s leaving.

She just left, Damn, you did something wrong..Before you could dive further into negative scenarios, she came back and sits down right next to you, "Alright, what are we looking at here?" You looked at her in confusion, "What about your meeting?"

Natasha reached for a stapler that was on the table, "Finished it, you are more important to me than listening to some people who think they can do something better," She looks back at you, "Now let's talk about you. So, what's it about?"

You couldn't help but smile softly. You can already feel the pressure easing a bit, ,,Aspects of human history and experience.“ Natasha flipped through the sheets a bit and as you did, she asked, „What can you think of already?“

Okay, how do you tell her you've just been staring at it so far? „Uhm..“ Natasha put the folder on her knees and this time looks directly at you, „You haven't looked at it yet, have you?“

You sigh again and lean against the couch, „I wonder how you managed to make everything look so easy, Nat. You're rich, you have your own company, and it seems like you don't have to worry about anything..“

Natasha's eyes softened, and she put a hand on your thighs, her voice soft and soothing. „Y/n, it may seem that way from the outside, but I promise you, success did not come on its own. I, too, sat on the floor and studied for hours. I had to deal with countless obstacles, setbacks, and doubts. Getting to where I am now took hard work and determination.“

You continue to look at her, „I know it won't be easy, but sometimes it just feels overwhelming. I want to achieve great things, but the road ahead seems so long..“

Natasha smiled and squeezed your thigh, „I believe in you, Y/n. You have the intelligence, the drive, and the passion. Remember that every little step brings you closer to your goals. Rome wasn't built in a day, nor were successful businesses or successful careers.“ Natasha realized that she was playing to your motivation with her speech, so she took the chance and went right on, „So, can you tell me anything interesting about any of these civilizations yet? Which ones are there, for example?“

Your eyes lit up as you begin to share your knowledge. „Well, the Egyptians, for example, were known for their impressive pyramids, and they believed in the afterlife.. They had intricate burial practices to prepare for the journey to the afterlife.“

Natasha nodded, acknowledging your answer, „That's right. It's fascinating how different societies view life and death. What are the challenges you find in learning about this topic?“

You sighed for the third time now, your frustration evident. „I get overwhelmed by all the dates and names. I feel like there's so much to remember.“

Natasha's voice sounded reassuring. „It's normal for you to feel this way. Let's try to break it down. We'll focus on one civilization at a time and create a timeline. That way it won't feel so scary. Also, I'm here to help you with the names and dates, understand?“

That sounds like a lot of work, you thought to yourself, but not for you, for Natasha, „Nat..Is this really okay that I'm keeping you here like this? you must have-" she interrupted you directly, „Quit that.“ She leans toward you, " „What good does it do me to have you sinking here in front of me, hm? I'd hire someone for you to make your tables and everything you need, so. Carry on.“

You had to smile again and nodded your agreement. At some point you reached a point where Natasha asked, „Let's talk about the ancient Mesopotamian civilizations. What else do you know about them?“

You think for a moment before answering, „They were known for their sophisticated writing system and the Code of Hammurabi, which was one of the earliest law codes.“ Natasha nodded in agreement. „That's right. And what do you know about the Indus Valley civilization?“

You hesitated, struggling to remember the details. „I'm not sure about that.. I think it was an ancient civilization on the Indian subcontinent, but I don't remember much else.“

Natasha smiled, without a hint of frustration in her voice. „ And that's all right, Y/n. The Indus Valley Civilization was actually on the Indian subcontinent, and they had advanced city planning with well-organized cities.“ Natasha notices you drifting off again, and she puts the things aside, „It's normal to forget some details. We'll work on it together.“

You appreciate her patience and support. „Thank you for your understanding, Natasha. Sometimes it's frustrating when I can't remember everything.“ Natasha reassured you, „It's all part of the learning process. We'll take another look at Indus Valley Civilization and make sure you understand it thoroughly.“

I need a Natasha. 🥲

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha

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bloatedandalone04 · 1 year ago

Text

Greatest Fan of your Life

➪the one where you get your wisdom teeth removed and bradley takes care of you.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of a bad past dental experience, mentions of teeth being removed...because, you know, mentions of blood, anesthesia, use of an iv, mentions of not eating properly, reader is going through it, bradley being the best boyfriend ever, literally wrote this because i just had three of my wisdom teeth removed and needed some comfort

Word Count: 5.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

You were nervously chewing on your bottom lip as you glanced up at the sign of the best dental office in San Diego. As you read over the sign a couple of times, Bradley reached over from his place behind the wheel and grabbed your hand. “How are you feeling?”

Tearing your eyes off the logo that resembled a tooth, you give him a weary smile. “I’m nervous,” you state the obvious in a quiet voice.

Bradley raised your hand and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it before rubbing soothing circles on your knuckles with his thumb. “You’re going to be fine, pretty girl,” he said in hopes to provide you with some much needed comfort. “I’m going to be waiting right here when it’s over, and then we’ll go home and I’ll cater to your every need.”

You give him another smile and lean over to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “I like the sound of that,” you murmur and he smiles back before placing another quick kiss to your mouth.

“Do you want me to go in with you?” He asks when he saw you reach for the handle.

“Please,”

And with that one word Bradley was hopping out of the Bronco and grabbing your hand as you both walked up to the door. He could feel just how tense you were and he wished there was something he could do to ease your nerves, even a little bit. He knew there was nothing he could say or do to help you, as having anything done to your mouth, from a filling to a simple clean, made you beyond nervous.

You had never liked the dentist, ever since you were a kid and they had to hold you down while extracting a tooth that was no good. They hadn’t given you enough freezing for it to numb properly, so you felt pretty much everything. Safe to say you never went back to that dentist office.

Maybe that was why you had waited so long to make an appointment to have your wisdom teeth removed. You were told back when you were twenty one that you should get them extracted as soon as possible, but that was ten years ago, and you still hadn’t booked the appointment.

You were fine, for the most part, up until a few weeks ago. You were barely able to chew tough foods because your gums ached beyond words, and you had resorted to drinking shakes to get you through the day. That was fine, until Bradley noticed you had lost a concerning amount of weight due to the lack of actual food you were getting into your body.

He went ahead and booked the appointment for you pretty much instantly after that. He had to sweet talk the lady on the other line, who was insisting that it should be you who was making the appointment, but she eventually gave in when he told her about your fear of the dentist.

Bradley still wasn’t sure how he had gotten away with that, but he was grateful nonetheless, even if you didn’t talk to him for the rest of the day after he informed you of your upcoming extractions.

While you were upset and scared, you were also glad you would be able to go back to eating solid foods in about a week after today.

That positive still didn’t help tune out all the negatives you were feeling.

As you walked up to the front desk of the office, you didn’t loosen your hold on Bradley’s hand once, not even when the lady behind the desk handed you a clipboard with papers you needed to sign since this was your first time in this office.

You both sat in the waiting room, and you were shaking so badly you were afraid your writing was so messy that you’d have to ask for a new page. With a nervous glance up at your boyfriend, he just pressed a kiss to the side of your head and took the clipboard from you, filling out your information for you. Most he knew off by heart, thankfully, and he handed it back to you so you could scribble down your signature at the bottom of the page.

It was only a few minutes after he handed the board back to the lady when your name was called. Bradley could tell that you were beginning to freak out once again, so he took your hand and walked with you over to where the procedure will be done.

“You’re going to be fine,” he assured you, his hands tilting your head up so he could press a soft kiss to your lips. “It’ll take an hour at the most, and then we’ll be back home.”

You just nodded and allowed him to kiss your forehead. “I love you,”

“I love you, too,” and he watched as you were guided into the room by the assistant.

You hesitantly sat down on the chair and kept your eyes on the blank wall in front of you. Off to your left were various paintings, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at them, despite them probably being there to calm down the patients. You were so nervous, you couldn’t even voice your opinions on the decor of the waiting room. This was by far the most elegant dentist office you had ever seen in your life.

The assistant took a seat next to you and began wiping down your forearm, and you began mentally preparing yourself for the eventual puncture of the IV. “How are we doing?” She asked softly. “Are you nervous?”

You give her a tight smile as she tosses the wipe into the trash can. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only a little bit,” she teased as the Doctor came in. “Your boyfriend mentioned that you have had some pretty tough times in the past regarding previous procedures. I want you to know that you have nothing to be afraid of. It’ll be over before you know it.”

You nod at her as the Doctor gently picked up the IV. “Hi, Y/n,” he smiled at you. “I’m Doctor Brown.”

“Hi,” you nearly whisper back.

He asked you the standard questions, like; are you taking any medication currently, are you a smoker, is there a chance you’re pregnant, when was the last time you had something to eat or drink. All that fun stuff you were barely able to answer.

“I’m going to insert the IV now, okay?” He asked and waited until you gave him verbal consent before gently piercing your skin with the needle. He looked at the fluid bag before sitting down on the other side of you and grabbing gloves. “I hear this is your first time with us, is that correct?”

You nod as he adjusts the chair so you are laying back. “It is,”

“And you have a reliable ride home?”

You nod again. “Yeah, my boyfriend,” you answer, wondering when exactly you were supposed to start feeling sleepy.

The assistant, whose name tag read Alia Clark, grabbed her own gloves as she asked, “What does your boyfriend do?”

“He’s in the navy,” you mumble with a small smile. “He’s an aviator.”

“Oh, wow,” she replied and smiled down at you before checking over your chart. “And what is his name?”

For some reason, that took you a bit longer to answer as you felt your eyes begin to feel heavy. “Bradley,” you were finally able to say. “His name is Bradley, but he also goes by his call sign, Rooster.”

“Rooster, huh?” Doctor Brown hums and you were only able to nod as you felt your eyes close.

“Don’t worry, Y/n,” you hear Alia say. “You will be back with Bradley, or Rooster, in no time.”

And that was all the assurance you needed before you let yourself fall asleep.

Bradley wishes he was able to stay in the room with you, but he knew he couldn’t, so he finally made his way back out to the Bronco once he saw the Doctor enter your room.

Once he was back behind the wheel, he sighed as he had an hour of time to kill.

He had taken the week off work, after informing Mav of your fear of the dentist. The older man seemed to have taken pity on you as he had no problem letting Bradley skip this week to look after you.

As he began to wait, he pulled out his phone and typed a quick message to you, knowing you wouldn’t see it or read it until you were back home. You told him beforehand to take your phone away from you until the effects of the IV wore off completely, nervous that you would embarrass yourself if you were to go on it in your drug induced haze.

After typing out a sappy little message, Bradley ended it with a simple red heart before sending it, hearing the buzz of your phone from where it was on the center console.

He debated on whether or not he wanted to stay in the parking lot the whole time, or run out to the store to get some things that would help make the next few days easier for you.

He reluctantly chose the second option, as he knew you wouldn’t want him to leave your side once you were back home.

Bradley drove to the nearest store and bought a few packs of pudding, apple sauce, ginger ale, yogurt and even some more of those shakes you had been living off of, something he was still mad about as he hated the way you turned to practically starving yourself to avoid this appointment, before stopping by the pharmacy to pick up more painkillers.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t the smallest bit excited to be the one taking care of you. Usually it was the other way around, with you being the one to look after him every time he returned home from his deployments. Whether that be with making him his favorite foods, giving him some much needed massages or simply just laying with him in bed for a few hours, it all made the welcome home much nicer than it would have been if he was still living alone and single.

This time he got to be the one to look after you, and he couldn’t wait to cater to your every need. He couldn’t wait to spend the whole week with you, even though you would most likely be miserable and uncomfortable due to the pain in your mouth. Still, he would do his best to make things better for you.

Your surgery should be over soon, so with twenty minutes left on the timer he set for himself on his phone, he drove back to the dental office and was back to waiting for you.

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to go in and wait for you inside, or if they’ll call him to come walk you out, but he decided to go in a bit early, anyway, and wait for you in the waiting room.

Bradley remembered when he got his wisdom teeth removed, back when he was still a teen. He remembered just how uncomfortable he was during the recovery days, and how he didn’t really have anyone to look after him. He got his aunt to drive him there and home, and she stayed with him for a few hours after the surgery, but eventually had to return to her own home.

He had to stick to sucking on popsicles and protein shakes until he was feeling well enough to go back to eating normal food.

He was completely on his own back then, and he’d make sure that wasn’t the case with you.

A few minutes go by, and when he heard the assistant call his name, he paused the latest newscast that he was watching on his phone and pocketed it before standing up. “How is she?” He asked as Alia getsured for the lady behind the desk to ring up the receipt. “How’d it go?”

Alia smiled at his multiple questions as she watched him insert his credit card into the machine. “It went well,” she answered and gave him another smile when he slipped the card back into his wallet and took the receipt from the receptionist. “She’s just resting now, but is able to go home since most of the anesthesia has worn off.”

He nodded and followed her back to where you were. She stepped aside as he entered the room and found you still laying on the chair, your eyes barely open as you stared blankly at the TV that was hung from the ceiling. “Hi, pretty girl,”

At the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, you look over and tear up. “I don’t look pretty right now,” you mumble and try to avoid moving the cotton pads that were stuck to either side of your mouth.

Bradley hushed you and quickly walked around the chair so he could press his lips to your forehead. Your mouth and cheeks were swollen, and he could see a bit of blood on your bottom lip, but other than that, he still thought you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen. “You do,” he said and grabbed your hand when you reached it out to him, careful to not touch the bandage from where the IV was inserted. “Mouth full of gauze and all.”

“You’re Rooster, I’m assuming?” Doctor Brown asked as he held a few pages of paper in his hand.

“She told you my call sign, huh?” Bradley shook his head while you avoided eye contact with him and instead decided to stare at the wall.

“She was the perfect patient,”

Bradley looked over at you and gently rubbed circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. “I believe it,”

Doctor Brown went over what exactly he and Alia did to you, before handing him a small bag that held antibiotics inside. The whole time you remained silent as you tried not to cry in front of the Doctor and assistant, squeezing Bradley’s hand whenever you felt the pain beginning to form.

“She should be okay now,” the Doctor finished with a smile at the two of you. “There should be no more pain from having them in. If there is still a bit of discomfort after about two weeks, come back in and we’ll check up on the healing process.”

“Sounds good,” Bradley answered and gently pulled you up from the chair. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” you mutter as he guides you back towards the exit, with him carrying most of your body weight. He led you back out to the Bronco and helped put your seatbelt on before he was getting in on the drivers side.

“I know this will be hard for you to do,” he began, checking you over once more before putting the car in reverse and beginning to back out of the parking space. He puts his right hand on the back of your headrest and gives you a teasing smile before continuing, “But I looked it up and Google says you shouldn’t talk too much. It might interrupt the healing process.”

Despite him really wanting to hear all the odd things you’d say in your daze, he didn’t want you paying the price later by having a sore throat.

You send him a dirty look and raise your brow, as if to say, really?

He just winks at you after taking off his aviators and reaching over to gently place them over your eyes, sacrificing his own in hopes you would appreciate the gesture since you had forgotten your own during your rush to leave this morning. It was nearing the afternoon, so the sun was shining down on the both of you, but he would deal with it to make you more comfortable.

He was right about you appreciating it, as you give him a closed mouth smile, your cheeks puffed out due to the gauze. “Tell you what,” he says as he pulls out onto the main road, his right hand instinctively reaching over to trace random shapes onto the skin of your thigh. He keeps his left one on the wheel as he glances over at you, seeing your eyes already on him from behind the glasses. “Once we get home and you rest for a few hours, maybe we can go out and get milkshakes if you’re feeling up to it. Might help with the soreness.”

You instantly perk up at that and nod, grabbing his hand and bringing it up to your mouth. Bradley held back a laugh at your attempt to kiss the back of his hand, your lips clearly still numb as you couldn’t seem to get them to move properly.

He just gave you a grin when you looked over at him in defeat.

The swelling had gotten worse as the time went on, and your throat was dry beyond words. Bradley had guided you towards the couch as soon as you got home, flipping the TV onto one of your favorite shows and making sure you were comfortable before he was leaving to tidy up the small mess you had made in the bedroom a few hours earlier, when you couldn’t decide what to wear and had thrown multiple articles of clothing onto the floor.

Within minutes he was back at your side, your head resting on his lap as you stared at the screen of the TV. Bradley ran his fingers through your hair as you both watched the show, listening to your uneven breaths as you fought back grunts of pain.

He looked down and gently held your chin in between his fingers, squinting down at you as you opened your mouth. “I think it might be time to change the gauze, baby,” he murmurs and you wince in at the thought of seeing the bloody cotton leave your mouth.

Bradley gently sits you up before reaching over and grabbing the bag from the dentist and pulling out a fresh set of gauze.

After damping them with water, he sets them aside before mumbling a quiet, “Come here,” and he watches as you lean towards him and slowly open your mouth. Bradley caresses your jaw with one hand and uses the other to slowly pull out the bloodied gauze. He does it one by one, murmuring a soft, “I’m sorry,” when he sees the tears form in your eyes. He places both pieces of gauze on the palm of his hand before handing you the clean ones.

He sits with you until you’ve successfully placed the new cotton into your mouth, and then stands up to throw away the blood filled ones.

Once Bradley returns back to the living room, you move over and give him space to sit down before laying your head in his lap again and trying to focus on the show instead of the throbbing in your mouth.

With your head still feeling fuzzy and the feeling of your boyfriend’s fingers running through your hair again, you give yourself a bit of relief and fall asleep.

When you woke up alone a few hours later, you noticed that Bradley had left the TV on and had also put your phone on the coffee table beside you. You could hear him doing something in the kitchen as you reached for it, and knowing him, he was probably making something to eat as his stomach was like a bottomless pit.

You sat up with a groan, still a bit groggy from the anesthesia, and unlocked your phone. Instantly, you were met with a couple of texts from your friends and family, and you smiled as you read them.

Mom: I heard from Bradley that it went well and you’re resting now. Call me when you’re feeling up to it. Love you x

Nat: I told you that there was nothing to be scared of. Have fun being stuck with Rooster for a week ;) Text me when you can!

But the one that had you smiling a little bit more was the one from Bradley.

Bradley ♡: I love you, pretty girl. I promise I will be there with you as soon as it’s done. I’m all yours for the next week, and after that.

You send him a heart emoji back, then realize that the gauzes are all soggy in your mouth, and you once again had to hold back a gag as you leaned over to put your phone back down.

When you bite too hard down on your cheek through the cotton, you wince and accidentally drop your phone onto the floor. It landed on the rug with a thud, and you heard the sounds coming from the kitchen stop.

Seconds later Bradley was standing in the doorway to the living room, a cloth in his hands and he was still chewing something as he asked, “Are you okay?”

You give him a thumbs up before pointing down at your phone.

He looks at it and shakes his head as he tosses the cloth back into the kitchen to find later, before crossing the room and picking up the device. “I knew giving you back your phone would be a bad idea,” he teased as he sat down next to you and gently ran his fingers along your still swollen jaw. “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged and blinked away the remaining sleep from your eyes. “Dry,” you said and wince at how raspy your voice sounded.

Bradley nodded, murmuring a quiet, “Okay,” as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Do you feel like trying to drink something?”

You look up at him with a small smile. “Milkshake?”

He laughs and kisses your forehead. “We can go get milkshakes,” he says as he gently tugs on your lower lip with his thumb. “But first we need to change those again.”

You groan as he helps remove the stained gauze from your mouth again and wonder how he wasn’t grossed out by holding them in his hand. You supposed he’s seen and done worse, and he’s not exactly new to having your saliva on him.

He uses his free hand to grasp your chin between his fingers and tilts your head so the lamp next to the couch was able to shine somewhat into your mouth. “It doesn’t seem to be bleeding much right now,” he hums and stands up to toss the gauze away. “Do you want to see how it goes without them for a bit? Just until you get something into you. If it starts to bleed again after the shakes, I’ll help you put new ones in.”

You agree instantly, happy to be rid of the uncomfortable cotton for at least a little while. After he throws the used gauze out, he returns back to the living room with his keys and phone in one of his hands, the other free for you to hold as he held it out to you.

He pulls you off the couch and guides you back out to the Bronco, making sure to grab the bag that holds the gauze and meds that you would need to take afterwards. He knew it would be an early night as the medicine would most likely make you sleepy again, and that was why he waited until it was nearing eight before taking you out for milkshakes, so you could go back home and go to bed at a reasonable time.

Bradley couldn’t do much for your discomfort, but he could sure as hell keep your sleep schedule on track.

You leaned your head against the window as he drove into town, your eyes hazy as you listened to his quiet humming of the song that played on the radio. “I like your singing,” you murmur as you look at all the lit up shops that passed by. “You should do it more often.”

Bradley laughed from beside you as he pulled into the drive thru. “I sing all the time for you, baby,”

“I know,” you say and lift your head, looking over at him while he eyed all the flavors to choose from. “But I can never get enough of you, you know that.”

He lifted his hand and ran his knuckles along the bone of your cheek, admiring the way your pretty face looked in the dim lighting of the Bronco. “The feeling is mutual,” he grinned at you when you turned your head to place a kiss to the back of his hand. “What kind are you wanting to get?”

You hum as you lean over the center console, reading over the various flavors. “Strawberry,” you decide and run your nose along the sharp angle of his jaw. “Please.”

After ordering two shakes, and asking for a spoon, Bradley pulled into one of the many available parking spaces. He pulled off the lid of your shake and stuck the plastic spoon in it before handing it over to you.

He watched you carefully as he sipped on his own shake, holding back a laugh at how puffy your face is. Of course, you saw him shift out of the corner of your eye and turn to him with a raised brow. “Sorry,” he grinned and set his shake down in the cup holder. “You look like a chipmunk.”

You just shake your head at him and slurp on the spoon, waiting until the cold substance dripped down your throat before saying, “You’re laughing at me,” you state and hear him snort and cover his mouth. “I’m in pain and you’re laughing at me.”

That just made him laugh harder, and you found yourself smiling at the sound. “I’m sorry,” he says and reaches over to gently caress your swollen cheek. “You still look as hot as ever.”

You roll your eyes and bring another spoonful of the milkshake to your lips. “Liar,”

“I mean it,” he promised, running his fingers over your jaw in a feather light touch before pulling away. “You’re the sexiest chipmunk I’ve ever seen, baby.”

When you laugh loudly, you wince immediately after, and Bradley quickly decides that you’d most definitely be a lot more comfortable at home.

“Alright, I think we should get going. Are you okay to…eat that while I drive?” He asked as he sipped on his chocolate shake. You wave him off and take a much smaller amount on the spoon, knowing that Bradley would go off on you for spilling anything in his precious Bronco, but you also knew he’d wait until after you were feeling better. The thought had a warm feeling spreading all over your body, as did his next words, “Okay, we’ll head home. You should take one of the antibiotics, first.”

You agree, and he holds your shake as you take the pill into your mouth. After rummaging around in the back with his free hand, Bradley hands you a warm water bottle, and he puts a reminder in his head to put the bottle in the fridge once he got home.

“Okay?” He asked when you took back your milkshake.

You nodded and have him a half smile, “It’s probably going to make me tired,”

“I know, that’s a good thing. You should be pretty tired by the time we get back home, and then you can go to bed and sleep off a bit of the pain,” he pointed out as he put the Bronco in reverse. Before he actually started moving, he gave you a serious look. “Do not spill that shake, pretty girl.”

You laugh quietly and give him a side glance as you sipped a bit of the milkshake from the cup.

“I mean it, baby,” he was only half serious in his warning as he started the short ride back home, one hand on the wheel while his other one held his plastic cup. “That cute face will only get you so far.”

You just shake your head and lean over to press a kiss to his cheek that you couldn’t feel yourself do. Your lips were still numb, so you were really trying to be as careful as possible with not spilling your milkshake.

Luckily, you arrived back home without letting a drop hit a single spot in the interior of his Bronco, and Bradley gave you a chocolate tasting kiss as a reward as he led you back up to the house.

Once you were in your room, he helped dress you in one of his shirts and sweats. After concluding that the bleeding had stopped, he decided there was no need to shove move gauze into your mouth, as that would most likely make it start to bleed again.

He pulled back the covers and sat down next to you, smiling down at your emotionless face and tired eyes. “You doing okay?” He asked as he brushed away some of your hair.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, taking his hand in yours and trying to kiss it. He just grinned at your attempt. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

Bradley leaned down and kissed your forehead gently. “I always will, you know that,” you nodded as he pulled away and stood up. “Do you want an ice pack for the night? Might help with the swelling.”

After thinking about it, you nod and wait for him to return back into the room with the ice pack. He wrapped it in a dish towel and gently placed it against your jaw before stripping down into just his boxer briefs.

He settles down in bed behind you, hesitant to touch you at the moment in case you needed space. When you just laughed quietly and grabbed his hand so you could wrap his arm around your waist, he inched closer to you and allowed you to rest the ice pack between his shoulder and your jaw. He was glad he put the towel around it, but he also wouldn’t have minded having to feel it unwrapped against his bare shoulder. He’d suck it up for you.

“I love you, pretty girl,” he murmured and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you,” you mumbled back, snuggling closer to him as the effects of the antibiotics began taking over your body.

As Bradley held you while you slept, he felt glad that he was the one you wanted to look after you. He loved you beyond words and he felt as though this was the beginning of his attempts to even out the balance in your relationship. It was you who constantly looked after him, and though he loved it, he also felt guilty that there weren’t many occasions where he was the one who looked after you.

After spending the day taking care of your every need and being the one person you wanted to see you vulnerable, he decided that after this he would put more effort into showing you how much he appreciated and adored you.

He was ready to move onto a new chapter in his life with you by his side, if the small box tucked away in his box of collectable cards was anything to go by.

All he had to do was hope you’d say yes.

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invisiblestringmm · 1 year ago

Text

chapter two

cut open my heart, right at the scar

chapter index

author: thank you for staying. feedback will be greatly appreciated!

warnings: soft smut, alcohol mention, drinking, anxiety mention.

word count: 2.571k

Some people call it faith, a few others call it manifestation. It could be a mix of both — after all, what could be more powerful than an innocent child wishing for something every night as if her life hangs on it?

You didn’t know if the stars and the whole cosmos were aligned precisely to make your daughter happy, but you felt wretched knowing that her happiness meant some tough times ahead for you; all this time, she never had what she wanted the most because you’ve been keeping it from her.

For a good motive, though.

Knowing you so well, practically as if you shared the same brain, it didn’t take much for Willow to discover what was wrong when she was determined to investigate a little. It began when you called up the office to inform them you’d be working from home due to a sudden heavy cold, then Willow found out that Lily was staying at your parent’s for the next two days; usually, the time she stayed when something was up and you needed time isolated. Then, you ignored her text messages, and also her calls when she decided to insist a bit more, knowing you’d shut off from everyone.

But you couldn’t ignore the banging on your front door.

Willow groaned when she found you still in your pyjamas, dark circles around your usually sparkly eyes, and your hair up in a messy bun. She had her brows furrowed and a large paper bag from your favourite bakery in her hand, you sighed knowing what was probably in it and how much you needed it along with a bottle of red wine - once you were done with work.

“I’ve stalked a little,” she confessed, stepping into your flat once you opened the door a bit more, giving her space. “What are the odds?”

“There aren’t any, it’s called karma and I fully accept my punishment,” you went straight to the point as you threw yourself on the sofa after grabbing the paper bag from Willow’s hands; the freshly baked chocolate muffins and croissants inside relieved your nerves only for a second.

“Don’t say that, Y/n. We both know you had your reasons,” she rubbed your back, making an effort to reassure you the minute she noticed your eyes glistening with tears. Willow had been there through it all, from the night you met Mason.

FOUR YEARS AGO

The loud music and the bright lights were annoying, to say the least. Still, you were in such a great mood that you couldn’t stop your hips from perfectly moving right and left, to the sound of every beat, and you were having fun. It was Willow’s birthday and, as a sucker for birthdays, your mission was to have the greatest time and make sure your group of friends had a blast too. In your little world, you poured champagne into your best friend’s mouth and allowed her to pour it into yours too, but you knew Willow’s reflexes weren’t the best when sober so why would they be when she was already wasted?

“Fuuuuck!” The black slipper dress was glued to your body, but you couldn’t hold a loud laugh as Willow followed you. “Fuck, fuck! Whatever, fuck! Let’s go get another drink.”

The thin line between carefree and careless was already there, even more so when you were bold enough to ask for tequila, after shamelessly flirting with the bartender and a few other guys around, and returned to your booth with one bottle in each hand, knowing the group would want some shots. Almost stumbling on the last step that gave you access to the booth, sitting on the burgundy leather sofa, you frowned when a towel was given to you. Looking up, you found that cute guy who you’d been staring at, holding it for you and that big smile that made the corner of his eyes wrinkle flashing at you.

“I thought you might need this, Miss Champagne.”

“How thoughtful of you to help me with my champagne problems…?”

“Mason.” He winked and your heart skipped a beat. How pathetic, swooning for a guy you just met. At a club, and completely drunk.

Mason was a cute name, but right now you could only think of how it’d sound if he made you moan it. You didn’t know, but he thought about that multiple times since you walked into the booth next to the one he shared with his friends and watched you, he thought of how those hips would move on top of his instead of moving to the beat of each song that filled the place. He thought how badly he wanted to just hold it and make you help move them for him. You were fun, your energy matched his and he was looking for an escape. And, on top of that, you were breathtakingly gorgeous and couldn’t care less for who he was when he told you, and you stated that the only athletes you cared about were swimmers-Italians, to be more specific.

As the night went on and Willow was now forming a line of boys to kiss - twenty, to match her age - you wanted to go and stop her but you knew you wouldn’t be able. Instead, you switched the first guy for one of Mason’s friends and begged him to kiss your friend so good she wouldn’t want any other. Declan was on for the mission and they disappeared together after the kiss.

You danced together, shared a few more shots of tequila and when Mason asked if you wanted to go to his place, there was no point playing difficult, you both wanted the same thing: fuck each other senseless. He got you all naked before you could even reach the stairs.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Masey.” You pouted, making him giggle at the nickname. Mentally, he was already fucking you and you could tell that by the way he looked at you. “And you’re perfect just like that, I don’t want you wearing nothing but the adorable flush on your cheeks while you’re here or I might have to punish you.”

“Hm? I think I’ll put my clothes back on, then.” On your tiptoes, you reached for his lips and brushed them with yours, his warm minted breath making you close your eyes and let out a low and hoarse moan that only worked as an incentive for Mason to grab your thighs and carry you into the living room, straight to his large dark sofa. “Too many clothes, Mason.”

He nodded and quickly got rid of the navy blue Nike hoodie and the basic white shirt at once, leaving his bare chest exposed. Your mouth watered as your eyes wandered through his body, noticing how beautifully sculpted it was, all in the right places. But what caught your attention, innocently for the first time of the night, was the bulge under his faded blue jeans. You gulped.

“Like what you see?” Mason grinned and you quickly nodded, reaching out to unbutton his jeans. He softly slapped your hand. “Why so eager, baby?” The pet name made you moan, along with the tip of his fingers touching your nipples, then between your boobs and making the dangerous way to your lower stomach.

“Mason…” You felt your pussy clench around nothing and he gave you another grin as he made himself comfortable on the sofa and you watched his head disappear between your legs.

You felt his breath against your pussy, making your eyes roll and your back arch. “Such a beautiful pussy, I bet it tastes so good.” Mason pressed his lips against your inner thigh as his fingers now played with your juices, teasing you, making your whole body shiver and crave his touch. It felt like you were about to lose your fucking mind when he circled your clit with his thumb and his warm tongue played with your folds. Mason’s moans while eating your pussy were heavenly, he knew what he was doing and enjoyed it, but you craved for more.

“Mason, please,” You whimpered and your eyes met. Those big, brown eyes met yours and he lifted his hea, the sight of his lips wet from your juices making you bite your lower lip as hard as you could.

“Say it.”

“I need your cock inside me, now. I need you to fuck me.”

And he did, each thrust harder and deeper than the previous as Mason devoured you. Your sweat mixed with his, your moans, and the way he fucked you was something else. When his thrusts started to become sloppy and his breathing heavier, Mason quickly flipped you so you could ride him and your only goal was to make that man cum so hard he’d forget his name.

“You take me so well, Y/n. Such a good girl.” You felt your pussy clench around him when he praised you. Leaning your body forward, you held his jaw with your hand and let it slowly slip to his throat. Mason just nodded and you grinned, finally squeezing it softly, making him moan louder.

“You gonna cum for me, Mason?” He nodded again, holding your hips steady as he now moved his hips up again at his own clumsy pace. “Then look at me when you do it and while I cum all over your cock.”

He repeatedly moaned your name, his grunts only encouraging you to squeeze his throat a bit harder, letting it go when a final loud grunt parted his lips and he came, followed by you, with your body finally crashing onto his.

“That was fucking great.” Mason giggled and you nodded in return, giggling too as you rolled to the side.

“For drunk sex, it was.” Looking down at his body once again, to appreciate the view next to you, you instantly frowned when you noticed his uncovered and still-hard cock. “Mason, I thought you were wearing a condom?”

PRESENT DAY

The streetlights softly brightened your living room in the most soothing yet nearly depressing way; Willow was gone for a few hours, leaving you and your memories to yourself. During the day, you didn’t talk much about your current situation and what you’d do - if you’d do anything or just let things happen, and go with the flow, but still with some sort of control over the whole thing. Your thoughts were everywhere but also focused on two people: Lily and Mason. You knew that, eventually, you’d find yourself in this situation - it was painful, it made it hard to even breathe, and you never really prepared for it because deep down you spent four years hoping it would take lots and lots of years for Mason to be in your life again, as unfair as it was to Lily. And being unfair to your own daughter was, by far, the most disgusting thing you could do in life. She brought you nothing but love and joy.

Willow would often say that before being a mum, you were a human being. A woman who had been hurt by a man, and then you had to raise this man’s child. But you knew you couldn’t use this excuse anymore, it was time to face the consequences of keeping Lily hidden from her father and his family, and above all, stop punishing your daughter for your poor choices in life.

Your phone buzzed with a text from Jaz asking if the plans you had for Saturday were still up, and you apologised saying that you had the flu, but that Lily was more than allowed to go and you’d talk to your mum to arrange everything. After another lie to protect yourself, since there was no flu, you thought that maybe opening a bottle of white wine would help you through what it would be a long night awake, alone with your own thoughts and desperate attempts to minimise all the collateral damage that would find its way into your life once you revealed the truth. First to your daughter, then you’d have to hunt Mason Mount again.

His reaction was what frightened you the most. What would he do? What would he say?

Would he take Lily from you?

Would he hate Lily and reject her?

Every question that crossed your mind blurred your sight, made your heart clench and felt like a stab right through your heart.

You would never let him take Lily from you, but the thought of him rejecting her was just as painful, because that little girl was something else and she deserved the whole world. She deserved a daddy that would be entirely devoted to her, just like yours had been since the day you were born.

Already feeling your body welcoming the familiar floating sensation caused by the wine, you allowed yourself to stalk Mason a little - something you hadn’t done in the longest time. It didn’t surprise you that he still looked pretty much the same. Everytime you caught his face on TV, you avoided looking too much because it hurt and bothered you deeply, but now, scrolling through his pictures you noticed that his smile was still the same and the wrinkles around his eyes was something Lily had inherited. The soft redness on his nose too. Lily had a lot of him, even if you knew so little about Mason, despite sharing a life with him.

The Instagram “message” button burned under your finger, but you went back to scrolling through his pictures, because what exactly would you say?

“Hi, remember me? That day I went to your house and you shoved me off, I was going to tell you I was carrying your child so I’ve decided to hide her from you for a period of four years”.

Gosh, what a fucked up situation you were in. Besides, what was the chance he’d actually reply?

Liking one of his pictures was subtle, he wouldn’t notice. One like amongst the millions he was getting post World Cup. You’d let the universe decide if things should run its natural course or you’d have to put yourself in a situation you’ve lived before: ringing his doorbell and telling him the biggest news of his life, but four years later, and pray for the best outcome there could be of this situation. You wondered what your family would say, what his family would say, how everyone would treat you after but you couldn’t expect much. You were hiding a child from her own right to have both sides of her family whilst growing up, despite your personal reasons.

What would the media say, if it ever came to that?

“Heavens, I think I’m gonna vomit…” You mumbled, the combination of alcohol and thoughts of your daughter’s precious face in the media, on gossip websites, made some tears fall freely down your cheeks. You still forced a large gulp of wine, to ease the anxiety that was creeping in. Half of the bottle was gone.

You fucked up, greatly and badly.

With tears still wetting your cheeks, looking absolutely pathetic, you frowned at the notification that popped on your screen.

Mason Mount was officially back into your life.

In fact, he never really left. You had the most special part of him with you, and you could only hope he’d see it the exact same way.

next chapter

#mason mount fanfic #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluff #mason mount x reader #mason mount series #invisible string mm | chapter two

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cheezeybread · 4 months ago

Note

I just finished finals and I need the twst boys to suffer. I need a oneshot with the first year squad needing to solve algebra, chemistry, Literature, etc. All the crap we've had to put up with in normal school I wanna subject them to it. Ace making fun of us for not understanding magic homework? Tough shit, now the bastard has to solve these functions and figure out some parabolas!

Make the boys suffer, I can get behind that idea 😎

Also, I saw somewhere that someone hc'd Deuce as having a learning disability or some type of dyslexia? I think it works so well with him saying he had issues with school and not having good grades no matter how hard he worked at it.

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"I hate this!" Deuce muttered harshly, his eyes watery and half-closed. He had been staring at the same problem for the past twenty minutes, nothing more than an erased question mark to show for all his efforts.

"Boohoo, bastard, try being as clever as me, maybe," Ace shot back, sounding like the confident prick he was. However, when you glanced down at his paper, you could see tear stains on it, and the sheer amount of damage done to it by being erased so many times.

You sighed, leaning your head back on the sofa. Sitting on the floor, working on your seperate homework on the coffee table, were you, Ace, Deuce, and Grim (of course Grim was piled up on a bunch of books to be able to see his work. And so that you could make sure he wasn't cheating). Unfortunately for everyone, it was the time of year for exams. Right before winter break let out, you had to fight for your freedom. And unfortunately for the boys, NRC was a college- which meant that while it was also a "Magic-specialized" school, it had other classes, as well. Such as basic World History, English, Non-magical science, and math. Fortunately for you, the Math and English were close enough to the same ones back at home that you already knew most of it.

So you were coursing through the classes with grace and ease, leaving your friends stumbling and begging for help with their own classes.

For once, you were at top! No more were you this magicless human that they felt like they had to defend....well, you still were, technically, but now you were more known as the smart person who could help tutor the other Freshmen.

And since they were oh, so desperate for your help, you were able to charge thaumarks per tutoring session. With special discounts for your closer friends, of course.

Maybe the amount of power was starting to go to your head. Or maybe Azul had finally rubbed off on you. Either way, you had some extra money in your pocket for once, and you could afford to buy snacks! Snacks! For you to eat! And other fun little gidgets and gizmos that you could only stare at wistfully in shop windows!

Through the sessions, you had learned everyone's weaknesses and what subjects they needed help on the most.

Deuce had issues with English classes- mainly reading difficult passages and understanding them. You suspected he had dyslexia or some other type of learning disability. But you found that if you read the passage out loud slowly, he was able to retain the knowledge better.

Ace had issues with math. Specifically graphs and the mathematical equations that went with them. Parabolas, Quadratic formulas, you name it! it made him want to tear his hair out....and it made you want to bash his head into a wall just helping him. But if you worked out a problem a few times, he would eventually understand it. Maybe. Until the next problem, and then he'd forget it all over again.

Jack had issues with World History. All he kept saying was that if he couldn't smell it, it didn't matter well enough. To which you always had to reply with "that's dumb". Dates and times were definitely not his strong suit. But! If you mentioned Riddle during your tutoring sessions, Jack would work much harder at memorizing information. It was almost like he wanted Riddle to be impressed with him...even though Riddle was never at any of the study sessions.

Epel also struggled with English. He didn't understand why he had to find out what the text meant with a whole buncha "metaphors" and stuff. "The author meant what they wrote, didn't they? Why should I have to put a buncha words into their mouth???" But once you explained to him that the teacher wanted to see what Epel himself thought about the text, it all clicked for him. Now he just made up some semi-passable nonsense as his answers.

And Sebek...well, he was Sebek. He struggled a little bit with all of it, in his own way. But having Malleus sit in with some of the study sessions was remarkably helpful. You only had to help Sebek twice before he started doing better on his own.

"YNnnnnnnnNNNNN!" Ace groaned, giving up his false sense of confidence "I'm tiiiiiiired." There was a thud, and you glanced over to see Ace's head up against the table.

"Hey, back to work," You said, thumping the side of his head "Or you could keep resting and just pay me for another session. You know what, honestly, do whatever you want. It's your exam you're gonna flunk, not mine."

"You're such a tyrant..." Ace grumbled, begrudgingly lifting his head just enough to be able to write on his paper.

"No, even Riddle doesn't charge us for study sessions," Deuce chuckled tearfully, rubbing one of his eyes "They're more like Azul."

"Boohoo, bastard," You stuck your tongue out, mimicking Ace's insult from earlier.

Deuce opened his mouth to retort, but his expression changed to confusion "Actually, wait- where's Grim at?"

A glance towards the empty spot at the table, and it was clear the direbeast was gone.

"Crap," You hissed, standing up quickly, wondering what sort of mischief he had gotten into now.

There was a thundering boom from the kitchen. Grim had stuck his homework in the oven to hide it from you, but put the oven at 500 degrees to get rid of the evidence quicker....which led to the old thing exploding.

Needless to say, Grim did not earn any more tutoring sessions from you.

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#twisted wonderland #twst fanfic #twst #twst x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade #grim twst #twst ace #twst deuce #twst jack #twst epel #twst sebek #sebek zigvolt #epel felmier #jack howl

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izzabela · 2 months ago

Note

Hello there! Can you write about the reader writing a note to ask one of the Lin Kuei brothers (your choice) on a date but it goes to the wrong brother (your choice) by accident and accept the offer, but during the date, the reader ends up having a good time with the brother of your choice? 😁😁

Switcharoo - Tomas x male!reader

in which you get two brothers confused

a/n: haven't done a male reader in a while. sigh, middle-aged man yaoi...

ship[s]: tomas vrbada x male!reader

warning(s): fluff, anti-brother split kanon (aka, my own world)

As a strategist, your mind was constantly filled with ways to overcome the enemy.

Ambush attacks, traps, long or short term plans, all cards were available in order to win.

So the fact you had a cork-board in your room, with pictures of people and items pinned and connected with red thread, you knew you were in deep shit when you realized you had to strategize over and against your heart.

To make it even worse, you were strategizing your love for your clan partner, Bi Han. Grandmaster and leader to the Lin Kuei, a family with history spanning back to the ancient times of classical China.

You learned many things about leading, and though your family hasn't been around that long, the advice he gave was sound and firm. You appreciated his guidance, his ability to nurture you and still be reasonably firm. Tough love is probably the easiest way to go about describing him and his leadership.

That's the reason why you love him so much. He could be so strong for you and in front of others. He knew what he believed in, standing firm in them, and he had the strength to back it up. You wanted more than just the long nights in his office together drawing up strategies. More than training buddies.

You wanted to know why he was so devoted. You wanted to know him past the business hours of 8 am and 8 pm (midnight, if you guys are burning midnight oil to create plans). You wanted that special privilege of knowing him better than anyone else.

His brothers knew those questions, and hanging out with them was still just as special.

Kuai Liang is your older brother/reliable neighbor persona. He's confident, yet kind enough to humble himself when teaching the initiates. He praises you when necessary, and also guides you when you struggle in something. And the fruits, the amount of fruits he's given you and his brother when you two stayed up really late was insane.

Tomas follows suit in Kuai Liang's steps, though he's more of the younger brother you wished you had. Well-behaved, playful when time permits, and an optimistic young man, he was a jack of all trades. He got along with you the best, and you both complimented each other well in terms of battle and personality.

Back to the drawing board (literally), you look at the impressive plan you conjured up in asking Bi Han out: write a note asking to meet with him, take him out to Earth and to this amazing restaurant, go to the lantern release night that the local lake was hosting, and end the night watching the stars.

Easy peasy, lemon squeezy- right?

Wrong. So dead wrong.

It all went wrong the next morning, when you didn't double check whether you wrote his name on it. Not only that, but the fucking paper disappeared from your desk.

Not only that, but all three brothers have been staring at you nonstop. You tried to ignore it, but even Bi Han stared at you- and that's what made you twitchy and shifty around everyone. Still, you pushed through the day as if it was normal.

As night fell upon the Lin Kuei compound, you waited patiently in front of your room's door for Bi Han to come to you. To offer his arm and hold it as you two walked together to Earth and go on your date.

"Ah... (y/n)?" a light voice calls your name.

That for sure isn't Bi Han.

Your head snaps up like a cow interrupted from his grassy meal, and your eyes meet a, oddly attractively dressed, Tomas.

He's in simple black linen pants, a grey tee, and some slip-on sneakers. His hair is a bit unkept, but it fits the style of "woke up like this", and he pulls it off effortlessly.

By the elder gods, had he always been this handsome?

"T-Tomas? What are you doing here?" you ask, head looking around for Bi Han.

He's looking at you with a puzzled face, "You asked me here? The note you gave me... was that not addressed to me?"

You both have a comic book moment: look at each other, look at the note in his hands, and back at each other. Oh elder gods, you fucked up.

You crumple in yourself, back hitting your door as you slid down and hid your head in your arms. Tomas is nervous, frantic as he kneels to your level, unsure of what to do. You sigh deeply, heavily- any synonym that describes the dread that plagued your soul.

"It was... it was for your brother," you answer truthfully. "I had begun liking him over my stay here, and well.... I wanted to ask him out."

Tomas smiles, tapping your shoulder as he holds a hand out for you to grab. You look up from your safe haven of barred arms, and you notice how oddly happy he is.

"I know that I was not your choice originally," he begins, "But you must've spent a long time figuring this all out. Knowing you, you must've planned a map out in your room connecting even your choice of words!"

You blink first, before bursting out in a laugh. Taking his hand, you're lifted from the ground. You're not going to pester him now, but later you will ask if he peeped in your room.

Tomas flips open the paper note again, "So, the first stop was a restaurant? What's served there?"

"Wait," you stop him. "You're actually going?" You re-clarify with him again, and he nods.

"As said, you spent a long time with this, no doubt. Why not use it instead of sitting around? Maybe it'll be good practice for the real thing."

You nod, staring at him for a couple more seconds before moving to his side to walk together. From your room, down to the courtyard and entrance, you enter a portal and are transported to the front of an barbecue spot native to your town.

"What is this?" he asks.

"Korean barbecue! My family had been talking so much about it, and Johnny took me and I fell in love. All of you like to eat, and I figured this might have been a good spot for Bi Han..."

Tomas chuckles, "Brother is a stickler to his diet. Often times, he does not fall into cheat days or any corner-cutting. Kuai Liang or I would be the ones who enjoy the big meals."

You nod, "Mental note."

Entering in, you two were immediately guided to your table, and you picked out meats that suited both of you. Tomas chose the lean beef and some of the fatty pork, though you were a wild card of foods.

As the meat you ordered was coming out, you two drowned out the noise of your grumbling stomachs with casual conversation. Tomas played finger games, like sticks, as he talked about his week. Initiates, missions, personal training, paperwork- the whole shebang on running a clan.

Instead of making it sound like a record player, he retold his stories like a novel. Filled with little anecdotes of the world around him, little mentions of his friends and brothers, and personal insights on his view of his family, it was more than enjoyable to listen to him ramble on.

He was a song you'd hit replay over and over again.

Even through dinner, as he took over grilling the meat and veggies, he listened to you as you talked about your day. How you spent the entire last few weeks to conjure up a plan for Liu Kang. How you felt crushed about the responsibility of leading your people- the ups and downs of your life was like a poem to him.

One he could reread over and over, without getting bored.

Gosh, the date too. He fed you with his chopsticks, slathered your meat with side dishes, even got up to get you both bowls of rice because you didn't want to get up. His love-language is definitely acts of service.

Once dinner was finished, you had lied to him in saying you're going to the bathroom. In reality, you were going to get the bill before he'd notice.

"What?" you asked the waiter. "What do you mean it's been footed?"

The young lady just nods, "Your date, I presume, paid earlier."

You look back to Tomas, who sat in his seat patiently and quietly. When he saw you, his eyes lit up as he waved. You wave back weakly, and he stands up to meet you as you're about to head out.

"When did you have time to foot the bill?" you ask him, nudging his shoulder playfully.

"A sorcerer never reveals his secrets," he held a finger to his lips, winking.

You slapped yourself, probably out of fear, probably out of horniness. Whatever it was, you wanted to move on to the final portion to the date.

The lake the lantern night was being hosted on was nearby, just a couple of blocks away. It's also good to get the gas released.

As you both walked, the conversations never died down. From running after one another, piggyback rides, and casual hand-holding, this night felt way better than any other date you had been on.

As you two neared the lake, you immediately light up (haha so punny) at how many lanterns have been lit and written on. Flashes of colored pen on the fabric, the chatter of the various couples and families, it filled your heart with joy.

"There is a festival like this back at home," Tomas notes as you two walk closer to a volunteer. He grabs the lantern and cheap marker, and you egg him to go on.

"It usually happens in February and March. Lunar New Year, our special tradition of sending lanterns up in the air near midnight." You smile softly, the thought of Tomas in the Lin Kuei's traditional attire warming your face.

You turn away quickly, taking the fabric from his hands as you write your wish. He sets up the metal frames that are to hold it up.

"What'cha writing there?" he asks, peeking over your shoulder as he's halfway done with the lantern frame. You hid the fabric in your chest, head close to his, and his lips dangerously close to yours.

You pull away, but the glimmer of the metal catches your eye. He's finished with the frame, and now he sits waiting for you to be finished with the fabric and your wish.

"Take it, it's your turn to write anyways," you shove it into his (deliciously plush) chest.

Like a child, he turns his back to you as he scribbles away on the fabric. You try to peak over like he did, but he's so much bigger than you, and an inch of movement is enough to cover everything in front of him.

Worse, he already slipped it over the lantern.

"Hey! You saw my wish!" you yell, trying to pounce and grab the lantern. He holds it up and away, your arms flailing uselessly as you jump and grab nothing but air.

"Are you two ready?" another volunteer asks, a lighter in her hands. Tomas quickly rushes over, setting the lantern in front of her to get it lit up. At this point, you were getting pissed.

You can't let him know that you wished for Tomas to like you.

Yeah, yeah, how the mighty have fallen. Something something, switch-up- all the names in the book for your flip-flopping feelings. Is it your fault though? With Tomas here, it's actually been good because you finally reevaluated your feelings about Bi Han.

You never liked Bi Han, you liked the idea of what he could be. You liked Bi Han with the idea of someone else's personality- and that person was Tomas.

Tomas swiftly, yet gently, lifts the lantern up into the air, and you pout and whine over the fact the words Tomas wrote for his wish grow tinier and tinier. You sigh, laying on your back to the grass as you catch your breath.

"Sneaky bastard, what did you even write?" you ask between exhausted breaths.

He just repeats the same message he gave you earlier.

"A sorcerer never reveals his secrets," a playful smile accompanied with a wink.

You stare back at the lantern that now joins with its brethren in the sky, a collage of light yellow hues against the dark evening. The words of the people around, wishes and hopes, collided to create the manifestations of the humans around you.

As you watch the sky, Tomas watches you lovingly, the thoughts of his writing overtaking his mind.

I wish for a shot, not a practice run. With him and only him.

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

okay definitely not a burn out anymore, i fear i'm cooking with requests again

though, requests are gonna remain closed because i am setting up new things i'm writing for

aight see yall in the next fic!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mk1 2023 #x reader #bi han #kuai liang #scorpion #sub zero #mk1 bi han #mk1 kuai liang #kuai liang x you #kuai liang x reader #mk1 kuai liang x you #mk1 kuai liang x reader

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chaotic-starlight24 · 2 months ago

Text

How all the gang went through grief (SPOILERS)

*This is about Johnny and Dally's death, except for them it is about the Curtis Parents* This has been in the works for a while y’all, hope y’all enjoy :D I sure did writing this

Ponyboy We kinda already got a glimpse of this in the book so I won't go super into detail. But as we know he denies it, constantly. He convinces himself that he should be the one that died. Survivor's guilt if you will. He keeps several of their objects, whether he wears them or just keeps them in his room. He was closer to Johnny so he wears his jean jacket a lot and has the note hung up somewhere. He keeps Dally's necklace with him, usually keeping it in his pocket but sometimes wearing it. But that's not until he starts moving on. Him and Two-Bit take the longest in moving on.

Darry When Johnny died, he was badly shaken. He felt horrible because he was supposed to protect him. But something was peaceful inside him that Johnny had died with honor. Died a hero. He still felt bad because Johnny would never live to become an adult, but he still had that. With Dally on the other hand, it was just depressing to see Darry. Rebellious Dallas. Brave Dallas. Young Dally. Dead on the ground, bleeding out. By choice. Darry yelled at the cops and sobbed as he dropped near Dallas' body. No, not Dallas. To the gang, he was Dally. He always told Dally that he was young, always believed he had time to learn from his past. But now he would never have the chance. The young Dally he took care of like a younger brother. The young Dally he talked some sense into after a particularly bad night out. The young Dally who would follow him and Two-Bit around. And Darry had to live with them both like this.

Sodapop He was Johnny's first friend. They were in the same grade. And he was the one to introduce Dally to the gang. So it hurt him deeply. But around the gang he toughed it out. He sobbed with them and everything but he was more stunned if anything. At first he was also more focused on Pony not getting overly sick and making sure Darry had the help he needed. But after a while, he walked to their graves after work. He then kneeled before them and let the weight of the emotions sink in. He sobbed more than he ever had before. He sobbed for the lost memories, for the last encounters. No more talking to Johnny at the DX. No more encouraging Dally at the rodeo. It made it all the worse that he never got to see Johnny again before he died. He never got the peace of “At least I saw him one last time.” The last time he saw Dally was beat-up from the rumble, just giving him a smirk and a laugh and kept on fighting. Soda was convinced everything was gonna be fine. But here he was, sitting at their graves. From that time alone, he was the one who cried the most out of the gang. After a couple months he started sitting at their graves once a week. Updating them on everything. It helped him grieve.

Steve He was mostly in shock the first couple weeks/months. He was in a different kind of denial. He would find himself making an extra sandwich for lunch to bring with him to the DX, only to realize the person he shared it with wasn’t going to be there. He would sit on bridges and watch gangs of socs mess around, wanting to get into the thrill of a skin fight, but remembering his back-up wouldn’t show up. After it really sunk in for him, he began fighting socs at every encounter. The rumble was supposed to be the finish line but now it was only the beginning. He began freezing up at the mentions of the cops and gunshots. One time a group of socs were talking about Johnny being in the papers while at the soda fountain. Steve was listening in a bit once he heard Johnny’s name. They started talking about how it’s a good thing he didn’t survive or else he would’ve gotten a much more painful punishment. Joey had to wrestle a cursing Steve down to make sure he didn’t murder all of them right then and there. Once they left, Steve finally did it. He finally broke down. Things really weren’t ever gonna be the same all because of some socs having fun.

Two-Bit

When they saw Johnny in the hospital, Two-Bit was already barely holding himself together. It was bad enough seeing Johnny in all this pain, but he knew it the most how terrible Johnny’s parents were. So it made it even worse for him knowing that no matter what, Johnny wasn’t going to have a happy ending. When he ran down to grab the book he could feel his eyes getting glassy and when a nurse asked him about it he quickly wiped his eyes and told him it was just some bad news. Seeing Johnny’s mother made it even worse. He recognized the look in Dally’s eyes, the look of rage and sadness. No matter how much Dallas tried to hide it. Once the news came about Johnny, Two-Bit could only stand there. Everything in him wanted to scream and sob and maybe if he just hugged Darry it would be alright. Then the call came in. He was basically tripping over his own feet he was running so fast and he saw Dallas. All he could see was 14 year old Dally as shots rang out in the cold night air. He could only stare as Dally lay still in front of them, red spilling over the wet pavement. Him and Darry were having the same replays. Of young Dally. Except he was also thinking of Johnny. Johnny giving his sassy remarks about things he heard people say. Johnny looking peaceful for the first time in months, resting on his old couch. Johnny before the jumping, with that confident gleam in his eye and shaggy curls. After Pony was taken care of, Two-Bit hugged Darry for most of the night. Soda had also passed out on the couch with exhaustion so it was just him and Darry. Darry had a few tears coming down his face but Two-Bit was straight sobbing into his chest. It made it hit Darry all the harder. Things really weren’t ever going to be the same.

Dallas

When the news came about the Curtis parents, Dally was at Buck’s. He was drunk and playing cards when a call came. Buck walked into the room and asked Dallas to come outside real quick. He sighed deeply and took a hold of Dally’s shoulders and Dally just laughed thinking Buck was just horsing around. But then he looked him in the eyes, “Dallas. You ain’t sober and I know it. But Mr. and Mrs. Curtis we-were hit while in their car.” Dally just laughed again until Buck repeated the news. “Buck this isn’t funny y’know.” “Dallas I’m serious, I wouldn’t joke about such..such lovely people.” Buck’s lip started to tremble and that’s when it really hit Dally. He cleared up a bit and that smirk was wiped off his face real quick. He threw on his jacket and sprinted out the door. He barely knew what he was doing but soon enough he was at the Curtis house’s front door, banging on it. And there he saw Pony and Soda, passed out on the couch with dried tears on their face. Darry and Two-Bit were talking in the kitchen and Johnny was sitting in the armchair with Steve staring at the floor next to him, just an absolutely stunned look on their faces. Dally was told the details by Johnny and he just stood there. Dallas Winston was not one for hugs. He was not one for sympathy that hurt more than did well. He was not one for “it’ll be ok”s. So he just stood there. He just looked at Darry, then Soda and Pony, then Steve and Johnny. Then he sprinted out the door. Steve ran out after him but quickly turned back to the house and Dallas just kept on running. No, no, no, no! This couldn’t be happening again! He couldn’t do this again. But it was all coming back to him. His mother dead on the floor. His father standing with the gun. Him sprinted away from the apartment, Henry yelling to him to come back and Elizabeth standing there sobbing. This wasn’t New York City. So he ran back to Buck’s and locked the door to his room. There for the first time in years, Dallas Winston cried. Silent tears streaming down his face as it all sunk in on him. That night Dallas Winston made his heart colder. The world wasn’t going to get to him again. Never again.

Johnny

When the Curtis parents died, Johnny didn’t really know what to do. He wasn’t exactly close to them like the rest of the gang was. They were a lot like Ms. Mathews. Willing to welcome him into their home and give him a warm meal. But he knew how much it meant to everyone else. And that’s really what hurt him. To see Darry harden and become cold like Dallas did when he first came to Tulsa. To see Pony’s usually bright self become angry at his brother and their circumstances. To see Soda’s joyful smile become a tight line. At the time he was more close to Soda than Pony so he was told more than Pony. Soda told him everything. The details he knew, how Soda was trying to help Darry out, Soda deciding between working and school. He felt so stuck. He felt he could do nothing to help them. He had nothing to give to the family that welcomed him so many times. He had no way to try and repay the favor. All he could do was stand and watch it all go down.

#the outsiders #dallas winston #ponyboy curtis #johnny cade #darry curtis #sodapop curtis #two bit mathews #steve randle #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders novel #the outsiders headcanon #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders angst #angst #tw grief #the outsiders spoilers #original content #starlight's writing

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poppadom0912 · 3 months ago

Text

Holding On Sequel

Warnings: Mentions of guns, injuries, hospitals, angst

Summary: Recovery from the worst night of the Halstead's lives seems impossible.

A/N: Wrote this randomly when I remembered receiving several comments wanting a part two and after much deliberation on the plot, this is what I came up with. I'm not a medical professional, everything mentioned is all from google. Please enjoy the ending of this as there won't be a third part to what was supposed to be a oneshot ;)

*****

Things were never the same following the night of the accident.

Jay and Will found themselves at your beside for however long they were permitted to. During his shifts, at his breaks and whenever he found time, Will found himself in your room watching your coma ridden self and Jay would always call and text for updates, every other minute out of work spent in the hospital.

The surgery had been a success, no one ever doubted it when Connor took charge, but it was the aftermath that had gone downhill.

Cerebral hypoxia caused from the severe blood loss and haemorrhaging, causing damage to your brain, the extent of damage which even Abrams struggled to determine as long as you remained unconscious.

The coma lasted for such a long period of time that Abrams was hesitant in keeping your life support machine on.

Jay had a tiny bit of a go at the man for suggesting such a thing, Will attempting to hold him back from doing anything brash.

So Abrams took a step back for another week and the next time, Charles approached the brothers instead. His ever so gentle and understanding voice with his soft eyes causing them to crumble.

It seemed that everyone had come to a collective conclusion, tonight when both their shifts were over, they'd say their last messages and goodbyes before Abrams would pull the plug.

That day, like clockwork, Will took his lunch break too eat his sandwich at your side, talking and telling you everything and anything like he always did. Eventually, someone would always join him for moral support or for some company, either or, today it being April who also was on her break.

As Will combed his fingers through your knotted and greasy hair, their was a sudden spike in your heart monitor causing his fingers to abruptly pull at a tough knot, his own heart thundering, head snapping up to look at the machine in question.

Both doctor and nurse sat in silence, staring at the machine with sharp eyes, ready for any other fluctuations.

A higher pitched beep went off two minutes later, Will choking out a breathy laugh at the moment he believed was never going to come.

Struggling to formulate any thoughts, he turned back to look at you, his eyes softening paired with watery smile.

"it's okay Y/N." He swallowed harshly, barely listening to April calling for Abrams as the heart monitor continued to go off.

"Take as much time as you need."

*****

"Hey, you all finished?

Jay appeared out of nowhere, walking towards you with his keys in hand very casually like he hadn't just scared the living hell out of you.

"Yeah, almost. I just have to mark these last few questions and then we can go home." You said, gesturing to the test papers in front of you on your desk.

Jay hummed, perching himself on the tables that you forbid your kids from sitting on where he sat whistling till you were done.

Around fifteen minutes later, you were done. All your things were now back in their shelves and drawers, your bag packed as your announced you could leave now.

Jumping off the table, Jay rounded the desk and took hold of the wheelchair handles, pushing you out of the classroom, pausing so you could lock the door behind you.

This was your new norm.

Two months post waking up from your coma and, you were thriving as much as you could adjusting to this new lifestyle.

Only two weeks ago were you able to get back to work, spending all your time in and out of rehab and physical therapy, the latter of which you still attended.

The Cerebral Hypoxia affected your ability to speak and walk, the former which was fixed within a month of rehab but the latter...

Well, you were in a wheelchair for a reason.

To cater to such a sudden change in lifestyle, both Will and Jay took their turns in helping, acting as carers of sorts especially in the beginning of your recovery.

Their shared efforts leading to your current living situation - the three of you living together in a completely new place that had wheelchair accessibility that you were able to afford combining three salaries.

Even now, there were still some things that you hadn't become accustomed to such as: wheeling yourself everywhere, relying on others for small tasks like laundry and the sympathy from the entire world.

You would never get used to the stares you continued to receive at school from the children.

"Will get's off in a hour, he's asking about takeout." Jay said, cutting you off from your train of thought as you reminisced on your current recovery.

"Our usual Chinese place is good for me." You said, watching as he typed something into his phone, most likely texting Will your words. "I'm really craving their duck."

"Perfect." He mumbled, turning his phone off as he started the car to drive home.

It took a very long time to work out how to get you and the wheelchair both in and out of the car but after much trial and error and eventually help from your physical therapist, it all worked out.

Will and Jay were changed men after you woke up from the coma. They were, if even possible, more protective of you than before to a point where the line between overprotective and overbearing was extremely thin.

But all three of you had to learn and adjust, making mistakes and sacrifices necessary in making this recovery and new lifestyle work.

You wished you could turn back time and change things, going back to that fateful night where you could change what you did.

Thinking back to it now, you would've been smarter, used some common sense and put your card some place sensible, maybe walk faster to the station instead of pausing in the middle of a dark street nowhere near the main road or civilisation.

But alas, no matter the regret, it was all in the past now, as your therapist said, dwelling on it won't change the present.

All you could do is what was in your control which currently consisted on focusing on your physio to try and get your legs to improve even somewhat, try to enjoy being coddled by your older brothers like you were all kids again and continue to teach the children who never failed to make you feel better.

While you were well into the recovery process, there was still much progress to be made and in an ideal world, by the end of it all, you'd be back to normal and stable on your own two feet. A life where everyone could go back to their lives, Will and Jay being allowed to live their lives independently without having to help you get into the shower or bed.

For now though, all you had to do was focus on yourself, taking small baby steps to try and get back to being you again.

"For fucks sake- Will forgot the prawn crackers!"

With these morons at your side, being you was easier than ever.

#one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #one chicago fic #chicago med #one chicago fanfiction #chicago pd #jay halstead x reader #will halstead x reader #halstead sister #halstead brothers #will halstead x sister!reader #jay halstead x sister!reader

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batsplat · 7 months ago

Note

Chad reed on always the entourages creating the drama. I cannot believe that is what caused rosquez downfall but also given the level of Vale's celebrity and the way he carried himself, I can totally believe that it was the entourage (iPad stand I'm looking at you) that brought the end

(about reed's 2020 quotes in this) yeahhh I mean the downfall was caused by a whole bunch of factors, not just any one thing... like all great tragic narratives, it feels inevitable from a global perspective and yet thoroughly preventable in its specifics, with loads of points where you think, 'oh, if things had just gone a little bit differently'... there's this tension in how, in the end, maybe it would've always gone wrong, but a lot had to come together for it to go wrong in quite such a spectacular fashion

reed's definitely correctly identified one of the factors - the entourages, and valentino's entourage specifically. though fwiw, I did cut off the article before reed predicted the marc/fabio rivalry was headed a similar way (this was from 2020, obviously before the arm injury):

for better or for worse, fabio has skipped the villain arc to head straight to the depressed frenchie arc

regardless of whether this rift would have happened or not, the idea that marc would have gotten a new appreciation for the situation valentino found himself in is at least an interesting one. though if anything, the rivalry with fabio would have more closely paralleled valentino's with the other aliens (new talent coming through, but with the previously dominant rider still a regular winner). now is the time marc's learning what it feels like to come back from a prolonged absence from being competitive at the highest level - and of course with a new superstar simultaneously making his debut

so yeah, anyway, tragedy, you can point to all sorts of strains and pressures and tension inherent to professional sport that were exacerbated by the personalities involved and the influence of the media and the passage of time etc etc. but never mind all that, let's get back to entourages! I know you mention everybody's favourite b-list shakespeare villain, but I'm going to basically mostly ignore him because it's well-trodden ground. yeah, it does help to have one guy who's whispering poison into your ear for a prolonged stretch of time before showing up at your motorhome doorstep with a bunch of telemetry and a dream. and yeah, there were people in valentino's entourage definitely encouraging this path to doom. but what I'm also interested in is the flip side - why nobody stopped him

I would like to submit into evidence this passage detailing the thoughts of vale's mechanic alex briggs. now briggs in this excerpt blames two groups for how things went down in 2015:

the yamaha side (specifically the press group) for not talking him down from the ledge before the presser

the crew chief and other assorted italians on the team for being too "yessy" and not standing up to him

let's briefly (for a given value of the word) focus on the first one. if you're a random yamaha pr person and you see the valentino rossi run to a press conference (given he was late) with a bunch of papers in his hands (well, he's not actually holding the papers in those gifs, but presumably somebody's got them), it's probably a tough ask to expect you to hold up the valentino rossi and ask him what exactly he's intending to do with those papers. also, is he really going to back off because you, random yamaha pr person, have asked him to please not accuse the competition of sabotage? added context is that some at yamaha were aware of what valentino thought about the race at phillip island (which we'll get to in a sec), but god knows if the pr people did. unless he confided in anyone on the yamaha side what the plan was, a lot of them would have been blindsided too - which does come back to the problem of how big a deal valentino is and how maybe you're a little more cautious about questioning what he's about to do with those papers than you would be with somebody else. it does feel like perhaps a bit too much to expect for them to have launched some last-minute intervention, or to even know what kind of intervention they could have gone for beyond low-level comedy hijinks to stop him from even getting to that room. why did nobody from yamaha place a banana skin in his path

but we do know that at least some in yamaha were aware of valentino's great big phillip island sabotage theory, because lin jarvis has very helpfully told us as much (from the post-sepang media scrum):

Q: Do you think it was a mistake for Valentino to [provoke?] Marc so much on Thursday with a very personal and hard attack? Jarvis: There are always many different ways of addressing different problems - Valentino chose to do it in that way. Perhaps that is what provoked Marc into being quite aggressive on the track. I really don't know, you need to ask Marc not me about that. Every action has a consequence. That's life. Q: And did you know before that Valentino was going to be so aggressive with Marc in the press conference? Did you know before? Did you discuss with Valentino about this decision or you didn't know until it happened? Jarvis: Personally, I was not aware of that. I was aware of Valentino's opinion of the race in Australia, but I was not aware... but I was not aware that he would - Q: Don't you think because Valentino at the end of the day is an employee of Yamaha he should discuss before with you about such an important decision, to attack a rider of another factory in such a heavy way [...]? Jarvis: You can't control every incident, everything that happens and you know, generally we have a very good [...] relation, connection with our riders, we talk to them before about things before, but anyway I think this is something Valentino felt strongly about and it was his decision and that's it.

note the use of the word "personally", which does leave the door open to others within yamaha (outside of valentino's inner circle) knowing what was going to happen. jarvis, unsurprisingly, comes down pretty firmly on the side of 'well what were we supposed to do'. given that jarvis admits he knew valentino's theory and is hardly a stranger to valentino's modus operandi - after all, he was already team boss at the time of another tense press conference in sepang eleven years prior that took place in the wake of valentino accusing a competitor of messing with him - you do have to wonder whether yamaha could not have tried a little harder to stop valentino. but again, accounting for the power of valentino's status and the power of his character, I'm personally unconvinced yamaha could've done much to convince valentino to change his mind

so then: the italians. a little bit of context - briggs started working with crew chief jerry burgess in 1994 and both of them were on mick doohan's team for all of his five 500cc titles. when doohan's injuries forced his retirement, valentino inherited his championship-winning team upon moving up to 500cc. jb was vale's very first crew chief in the premier class, and him as well as briggs have been working with vale since december 1999. understandably, this is a very tightly-knit group. it is one that made the jump to yamaha with valentino - here's just a quick excerpt (also from oxley's valentino rossi: all his races) about briggs' thoughts on that move:

When Valentino decided to defect to Yamaha, he was determined to have his crew go with him. Only one stayed at HRC. "We first got to know about the Yamaha deal in Portugal, I think [September 2003]," Briggs continues. "I wanted to stay with JB, because I hadn't finished learning what I wanted to learn. "I remember a clandestine meeting in the car park at Phillip Island, about salaries and how everything was going to work. It was really exciting. When I very first started working with Honda the whole group was very much a team. Towards the end we felt like it started to become a bit us and them: the engineers and management, then the mechanics and the riders. They'd sort of got too big for their boots - they'd designed this wonderful bike, so it was like it had nothing to do with us. That made it easier to leave.

and also about the move to yamaha, from the 2020 barker biography of valentino:

But with his trusted crew chief Jerry Burgess and most of his other team members from the Honda garage agreeing to defect with him, Rossi had the crew he needed, not only to win but also to enjoy his racing. It was a heartening display of loyalty and something of a risk for all involved. ‘When I announced to the mechanics that I was going with Valentino they said, “I’m coming too,”’ Burgess later explained. ‘Some of those guys were leaving very secure jobs and taking a big gamble.’

the group also survived the move to ducati (obviously a deeply frustrating two years not just for the guy riding the bike) and the move back to yamaha. but then, valencia 2013, valentino announced his decision to fire jb in a press conference organised for the pair of them. his 2013 season had been deeply frustrating - yes, he had gotten a podium in his first race beating both marc and dani, but after that generally speaking he couldn't come close to matching the other aliens when healthy. he was comfortably the fourth best rider that year, scrapping and clawing his way through midfield battles and having to rely on misfortunes befalling the three title contenders to achieve his podiums and his sole victory at assen. he was considering retiring at the end of the 2014 season once his current contract expired, but wanted to try everything he could to see whether he could be competitive again against the world's very best. and so, he made the decision to roll the dice and get himself a new crew chief, the italian silvano galbusera

now I have to say, personally I have a lot of time for this decision (even if it was maybe not... uh, enacted in the most graceful of manners, given how sudden it was). I come from a sports background where a certain ruthlessness in personnel decisions is encouraged and generally praised - if something isn't working, you should have the courage to make a change, even if it's deeply uncomfortable (including on an interpersonal level). also, while it was a sudden departure, it's not like burgess was that keen on sticking around much longer (again from the same oxley book):

Valentino ended his collaboration very suddenly at the end of 2013. Burgess was shocked but not too much, because he already knew that he was coming to the end of his own career. "When it ended for me I'd already been doing it 30-odd years and I'd told Valentino a few weeks earlier that I wasn't going to sign any more multi-year contracts. I was 60 by then, so I'd go year by year. I'd already signed a contract for 2014, but I would've thought if we hadn't had any more success by then that there wasn't much point in continuing. I felt we would win more races but I was more doubtful about championships. "I'd read enough sporting biographies to know that sportsmen change their coaches towards the end of their careers. It can give them a spike in results but it doesn't change the overall story. Looking back, Valentino's career went on longer than I expected. He enjoyed some success but no more championships and that's what you race for. Of course he was in the unique position of being able to get a factory bike until he retired. He was very special and deserved everything he got."

which, look. again, personal bias, but to me it's reasonable to part ways with somebody who doesn't think any more titles are plausible, because at that point it's just somebody who has a very different view on your career than you do and may well not stick around for much longer anyway. also, at the end of the day, jb was wrong! valentino came extremely close to winning another title, and just because he didn't, doesn't change the fact he could have. if it had rained on the 8th of november 2015 in valencia, we might be having a very different conversation. (or if they hadn't changed the bloody qualifying format post-2012.) honestly, if the 2016 and to a lesser extent the 2017 season had gone just a little differently - a working bike in mugello here and an unbroken leg there - he could have been a genuine title threat in two more seasons. in any case, what it does show is that valentino even at the end of 2013 was still as determined as ever, was ready to engage in what was a huge gamble (given how almost all his success had come with the highly decorated jb) on the off chance he might find what it took to win again. this will not have been an easy decision for valentino. here's a write-up of the presser at valencia, that stresses how uncomfortable the occasion was, how surprising a decision it was to jb, but how publicly at least there was a lack of recriminations (which, to be fair, wouldn't be much fun to do in a shared presser):

(you'll note that the phrasing in the presser about athletes attempting to extend their carrers by changing things up is echoed in what he says in that book interview where he adds that it doesn't change the overall story, again suggesting he didn't really believe valentino would be competitive. he also uses the same phrasing in ANOTHER interview that confirms as much, but I think you get the point.) valentino said at the time, "it was a very difficult decision for me because I have a great history with jeremy. he is not just my chief mechanic. he is like part of my family. my father in racing". this is somebody he'd been working with since age 21, somebody who is not only revered within the paddock for his work with several of the sport's greats but is also a man who valentino obviously has a close personal connection to. meeting for the first time when vale snuck into the honda pit to check out the bike he might ride next season, hitting it off immediately, countless rowdy dinners together, parties, jb and another older colleague sitting back when food fights started, watching valentino grow up, working with him throughout all his big manufacturer switches, all his successes and all his failures... as much as anything else, it's evidence of how strong vale's desire to win was, how determined he continued to be, to make this choice at this stage of his career. and jb was open to the idea (at least publicly) that it might end up being a smart call:

the 'dirtiest' part of the whole affair is how it was actually carried out - it's not great form to tell your crew chief the day before you end up doing a press conference together to announce your choice. for whatever it's worth, this is how valentino justified the timeline:

and lastly, which I think is the most key part, is valentino's belief. because at the end of the day, the only reason why he's doing any of this, and the only reason why what was to come was possible at all, is that he himself still thought that he could challenge for another title - as much as that belief had come under strain:

now what this piece also goes on to say is that nobody believes this will work. nobody believes that firing jb will lead to better results. people expect that this is going to lead to his retirement, quite possibly at the end of 2014. it's worth just remembering sometimes how extraordinary valentino's return to the top of the game post-2013 really was, how it went against how we expect a rider's competitive lifecycle to work, went far beyond the longevity exhibited by any top rider before or since - all while going up against riders who are widely believed to be some of the best to ever do it. valentino beat jorge in both 2014 and 2016, and remains one of two people to outscore prime marc marquez over the course of a season. not to engage in too much rossi prop here, but sepang 2015 can't really be understood without all the frustration that led up to it, to this one golden chance, this miracle that everybody had believed to be impossible (sometimes even valentino). this wasn't supposed to be happening. it was happening. and then, so so close to the finish line, valentino could feel it slipping, slipping, slipping away

but of course, we still don't know whether changing crew chiefs is the key factor that made him competitive again. maybe he just needed a bit longer to get back into the swing of things post-ducati disaster. maybe the bikes just started to suit him better. hey, maybe it was that nifty exercise regime he'd engaged in a wee spot of espionage for so that he could pinch it off his teammate. what we can say, however, is that valentino's choice both tells us a lot about his mindset, as well as (to finally bring us back to the actual point of this post) representing a massive shift in his 'entourage'. this is what briggs is referring to in his quote - the italians. the new crew chief. the people who couldn't stand up to valentino. now obviously, as mentioned above briggs had worked with jb for the better part of twenty years and can hardly be considered a neutral party. here were briggs' feelings on the matter (yeah it's from the same oxley book again, I got it new for eighteen quid which is a very generous price, would recommend):

When JB was out at the end of 2013 it was like losing my mechanic dad. I remember being in the garage when we found out about it. Then they arranged a kind of farewell, a kind of hodgepodge farewell. It was terrible, I didn't like any of it. I was just hiding behind one of the bikes in the garage, crying, going, what's going on here? It didn't seem right to me. I think maybe Valentino thought he would get faster again sooner, but I think it took at least a year to get the taste of the Ducati out of his mouth. I think if he'd stayed with JB we would've won the championship in 2015.

which. look. we don't have time to unpack all that. but. the point is that obviously briggs wasn't exactly a massive fan of the change within valentino's team, and his comments about the 2015 season do have to be read with that in mind. as to whether vale really would have done better in 2015 with jb at his side, your guess is as good as mine. all that being said, a part of me wonders how much losing that grounding presence enabled valentino's late-2015 spiral. maybe not in terms of talking valentino out of the great big fluctuating lap times treachery theory - to state the obvious, valentino got himself involved in plenty of drama during jb's time as a crew chief. jb himself occasionally helped add fuel to the fire in those feuds, like his infamous comment about how he would be able to fix the ducati's issues in 80 seconds that casey still brings up every three business days (the comments were poorly phrased but also somewhat taken out of context, in that jb was talking about a specific set-up problem). he's generally been pretty happy to be forthright about valentino's rivals, for instance this about casey:

My feeling at the time was that Casey probably only had one game plan, and having watched Casey over the years, he doesn't have a plan B. If it doesn't go his way from the outset, it's probably one of the weaknesses that he had through the youth that he had, through the lack of experience that he had. That's not a criticism of him per se, he was still only 22 at the time.

(this is about laguna seca 2008 and how he helped valentino win that race, including in plotting out vale's rather ruthless tactics - which casey was of course not exactly a fan of.) or these. uh. harsh comments about dani from spring 2010:

Q: Is that atmosphere or track knowledge? Is it like the Spanish finding something extra at the racetracks in Spain? JB: Well, therein we show the weakness, don't we? If you can get up on that weekend, on the technical racetracks of Spain, why can't you get up on the technical racetracks like Australia, where the Italians do? Lorenzo is a guy who will and does. Stoner has been able to get up on tracks all over the world. Unfortunately, Dani Pedrosa's into his 6th year in MotoGP, and he's won 8 races, Jorge Lorenzo's two months into his 3rd and he's won 6. It's night and day between those two, is the way I see it. Dani's an extremely fast rider, but a shockingly poor racer. Q: Were you surprised at Jerez [2010] when Pedrosa fought back when Lorenzo passed him? JB: When did Dani fight back? With two laps to go, and he didn't even get close enough to try to come back. Dani has never been a fighter in races, he's a lovely kid, don't get me wrong, but you can see that Lorenzo, having Pedrosa in front of him, it was never going to be the way he was going to finish that race. He was going to finish on the ground or he was going to finish in front of Pedrosa. That's the sort of race that we want, we had that with Biaggi and Valentino, and from history with Schwantz and Rainey. All the good riders have always had somebody they have had to put the target on the back of. It was Doohan and Gardner, and Doohan won that battle hands down, and I think Jorge Lorenzo's going to win this battle [with Pedrosa] hands down.

kind of a dick! so his attitude to valentino being valentino has generally been a) well having enemies is good, actually, with an added slice of b) good luck to his enemies :) - see also this quote (from the barker biography) in the context of the gibernau rivalry:

And that made Rossi even more dangerous, as Jerry Burgess pointed out: ‘Valentino is the sort of rider I wouldn’t want to get angry. He can take you apart on the track.’

so yes, jb is also perfectly brutal in his own right, as you presumably have to be to work alongside valentino so closely for so long. he is, however, also somebody valentino has a massive amount of respect for, somebody who helped turn him into a legend and is responsible for a lot of vale's success - not least, of course, in the pivotal move to yamaha. he was replaced by a man of a far far lesser stature in the sport, one who presumably would have been grateful to valentino for the biggest job he was ever going to get. if briggs is right and there was a shift in valentino in 2015, surrounded as he was by italians (derogatory) who could not stand up to him, who allowed valentino to insist on war and peace on the pit boards, to focus more and more on things that had nothing to do with riding... it would be going a little too far to say that valentino was missing an adult in the room given he was, in fact, in his thirties and should have been capable of being that adult. and who knows what jb would have said or thought or done about the great big childhood hero deception theory. but sepang 2015 was the culmination of a lot of things, including a pressure cooker of a season that grew more and more tense and put more and more stress on everyone involved - perhaps for none more so than valentino. maybe, just maybe, if he'd had somebody around him with fifteen years of experience in handling him, who could have just occasionally told him to knock it off, to concentrate on the racing, to keep things simple (always jb's defining philosophy), to maybe not get so wrapped up in the great big spanish collusion theory...

or maybe it wouldn't have mattered! maybe we're getting cause and effect all wrong here; maybe valentino was deliberately fashioning his entourage into one that was only going to give him positive feedback. maybe he would have just stopped listening to jb, maybe the very decision to fire jb makes it clear he was no longer interested in what jb had to say. it's a tragedy, after all! maybe it was always going to go like this. maybe it was always going to end like this

speaking of entourages, marc's manager played a bit of a cameo role in fanning the flames just a little further (article from marca, 26/10/2015):

alzamora obviously will be somebody valentino is familiar with, having raced him in 125cc and also having just coexisted in the paddock over the years. valentino could of course be lying, but idk, why would he? he's already made his case by this point, and what if alzamora were to contradict him? if it's true and this conversation did happen, you do have to say it's a spectacularly unhelpful intervention from alzamora. even if marc was mad at valentino, why the hell are you telling valentino this AFTER sepang 2015? what's the plan here buddy

^ 1999 world champions: alzamora in 125cc, vale in 250cc and alex criville in 500cc. people think motogp lore is complicated but if you know like, five guys, you're set for about twenty years of drama

which does get to the heart of the matter - a lot of these people have big egos and their own agendas and they love to run their mouths. they like talking a big game and getting involved in things they really shouldn't be getting involved in. is reed right that these people in the riders' entourages 'created the drama'? well, no, I think the two men at the centre of this particular tragedy were plenty capable of doing that themselves. nevertheless, you can point to how professional sports (and motogp in particular) forces you to rely heavily on a small group of people to keep you sane at the centre of the storm, and the risks that can emerge when that small group collectively unmoors itself from reality. you can point to the perils of fame, both in making your reliance on your inner circle so unnegotiable as well as in providing you with the status and power and ego to ignore anyone who might wish to change your mind. you can point to specific figures in this story who managed to incite the conflict between the two of them, as well as how the pressure cooker competitive environment they were operating within helped set up the ultimate catastrophe. you can point to how valentino lacked anyone with the power to stop him - both in the direct sense of forcing him to reconsider and the indirect sense of commanding his respect enough to make him see sense. maybe, just like in 2004, valentino had simply been "looking for an excuse" and he was always headed down this path. or maybe if somebody had just held him back a little that year, kept him focused on his riding, maybe if the right person had intervened at the right time...

maybe, maybe, maybe. that's why it's a tragedy

#valentino rossi #rosquez #//#4693 #i get the sense he's unpopular on here but EYE will miss lin jarvis. i think he's funny sorry. him and his certifiably insane employees #i loveeee that media scrum love his very dry lil summary of events acting like we're not so so far down the rabbit hole #anon: man fuck that ipad stand #me: lemme tell you a tale about a man called jerry burgess and the daddy issues he inspired in multiple grown men #and yes the fact that valentino unceremoniously dumped his 'paddock father' is. interesting :) i get him ughhh #also on the flip side i am curious what kind of conversations were going on in the marc camp during that sepang weekend #alzamora's two big contributions to the rosquez saga: 1) trying to stop marc from going to the ranch #and 2) telling vale that marc was mad at him for argentina and assen and in doing so helping back up vale's theory #what was he cooking #batsplat responds #idol tag #brr brr

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rainylana · 7 months ago

Text

“I’m always going to take care of you.” Alternate Version! part two!

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: part two of my series, will also be the final part in the installation.

warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, depression and breakdowns, explicit details of rape and violence, mostly told in eddie’s pov, language. if i missed anything please let me know! i hope you enjoyed the reboot of this series<3 let me know your thoughts on this one, it was tough to write!

“Please, Y/n, you can’t shut me out. You can’t.” Eddie was sat by your hospital bed beside you, hands holding the metal railing that was put up at the sides.

“I told you, Eddie,” Your voice broke, eye swollen, purple and red with a gleam of tears. “I don’t need to talk about it.”

“Don’t need to talk about it?” He repeated shockingly, more so to himself.

You’d woke up an three hours ago, having been out for almost thirteen hours after you’d passed out. You were a completely different person. You’d shut down, cold, unwilling to talk about what happened. You only wanted one thing, and that was to go home. Eddie didn’t know how to handle it. He knew he shouldn’t push you. You obviously needed time, but Eddie wasn’t a patient man, and he needed you to be okay.

“Please,” Your voice broke, looking over to him with a bruised eye, the skin around your nose red and aggravated. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Eddie, but I am fine. Just forget about it and get me out of here.”

The police had been there as soon as you woke up to question you. Did you recognize your attacker? Had you ever seen him before? What was he wearing? How tall? Did he tell you his name? What was his hair color? So many questions and so little answers. You hardly remembered it, yet you couldn’t seem to forget it.

Eddie had sent Wayne and all of his friends home. You weren’t up for visitors. Frankly, you were scaring Eddie. You seemed pissed, angry at the world and broken, not able to be fixed. You had a look in your eye that you’d never had before.

“I’ll go get the doctor.” He said tiredly. He didn’t sleep a wink in that uncomfortable chair.

Eddie left you alone then, leaving the room with a heavy sigh. He found your doctor at the front desk giving check out papers to another patient. “Dr. Grant?” Eddie called, gaining the female doctors attention. “How much longer till Y/n can leave?”

“We want to keep her just a few more hours for observation.” She checked her clipboard. “Just until we get the results of her head ct.”

Eddie nodded, not wanting to tell you the news of having to stay longer. He looked like a shell of a man, broken, eyes red rimmed and lips cracked from chewing on them. “I don’t know what to, doctor.” He looked to the floor. “She won’t talk to me.”

Dr. Grant frowned at Eddie, pulling him to the side so they could sit in the waiting room. She put her clipboard down on her lap. “Mr. Munson it will take some time before y/n will feel comfortable with talking. I can assure you that it’s perfectly normal in rape victims to shut down.”

He visibly cringed at her choice of words. Rape victim. You were a rape victim.

“I’m going to give you some paper work that may help you help her.” She smiled, placing a comforting hand on his knee. “I know it seems impossible, Mr. Munson, but eventually she will be okay again. It’ll just take time.”

Dr. Grant left the pamphlets on his lap as she left for her rounds. He looked down to find brightly colored pieces of paper, the words rape and assault plastered all over them. He got up quickly when his eyes teared up, disappearing into the bathroom and shoving the papers in his pocket.

Take time, it certainly did.

•

You acted as if nothing happened. You went on about your daily chores, cooked meals and cleaned the trailer. You were pretending, acting. Eddie couldn’t pretend nor could he forget. He was trying to be patient, that’s what the pamphlets told him. Be patient and understanding. But Eddie saw right through you. You weren’t that good of an actress.

He could see how broken you were, the look in your eyes was shattered and gone. The aches in your body you pretended weren’t there, how uncomfortable you were sleeping in the same bed with him. He offered to sleep on the couch and you’d nearly bitten his head off, saying you were fine and he was overreacting. All you were was angry when he talked to you. When anyone talked to you.

When it got late, when everything had been done for the day, you’d sit outside on the porch and stare up at the sky, smoking your pack of cigarettes that you’d swiped from Hopper a few weeks prior. You’d stay out there past midnight. Eddie hadn’t even seen you cry. You didn’t cry or get sad, only angry. That’s all you ever were.

You spent a lot of time in the shower, hours at a time during the night when you thought he was asleep. He never was. Neither of you slept peacefully anymore. You were barely eating. You tried, tried to keep up appearances to prove that you were okay, but you were slipping. It was getting harder and harder.

It had only been three days, but Eddie was starting to loose it. He couldn’t handle watching you fade away so quickly.

It was late when he finally had dozed off, but your absence in the bed woke him. His hand reached out to find you, only feeling the blanket and pillow. His eyes squinted in the dark, his heart beginning to race. Where were you?

He found you in the living room, one single lamp on that made your face an orange color, staring off into space with a blanket wrapped around you. Eddie frowned, turning on the kitchen light that made you jump slightly.

He tried to ignore the way you stiffened when he sat down, sitting a few feet away from you. He stared at you the entire time, trying to read your face. You looked broken. Utterly broken and so, so sad.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie began, sighing deeply. “I can’t keep watching you like this. I’m trying to…give you time, but it’s killing me watching you-” He stopped when he felt a lump build in his throat, not wanting to cry in front of you.

“I’m fine.” You dismissed him every time, not wanting to entertain the idea of breaking down in front of him. The mere fact he knew what happened, what everyone knew, made you feel weak and disgusting. Like a huge spotlight was on you. It was the worst feeling you’d ever felt, like you were standing naked on a stage, vulnerable and exposed.

Eddie bit his cheek and looked away. “No, you’re not, Y/n.” He swallowed roughly, looking back to you. “And that’s okay. I know you feel like it’s not, but it is. You don’t have to shut me out. Please, baby, you can’t shut me out.”

You squinted your eyes shut and looked to the wall. “Eddie,” You begged. “I can’t.”

You can’t.

That was the first time you had said that. That you couldn’t talk about it. Your voice had broke, just only a little. It was the first time he’d seen real emotion in three days. He didn’t want to push you, but you had to let it out. There was no way you could keep on living like this. It wasn’t healthy.

Eddie looked toward the window, it was pitch black outside, not even the flood lights were on. They had quit working a few weeks ago and no one had come to fix it yet. He swallowed back anxiety and nausea. “I know you’re scared-”

“No, you don’t.” You snapped, still refusing to look at him. “You don’t know how I feel. Nobody knows how I feel. They’re just trying to be nice.”

“Then tell me, baby.” He begged, placing his hand on your knee.

You shoved it off, storming up and escaping to the bathroom, slamming the door and locking it just as quick. The shower was turned on within seconds, then he heard you crying, trying to muffle it with the sound of your sweater, or maybe it was a towel.

You hated him. You had to. There couldn’t have been no other explanation for your anger and hatred. You blamed him for what happened, for not coming to your rescue sooner, you just wouldn’t admit out loud. He felt like you’d been killed that night, like your very spirit had been snuffed away like a lit match. He missed you. It was his fault. It was because of him. He was the reason your spirit was gone.

He put his head in his hands and cried.

•

“I don’t know what I’m doing, Wayne. She won’t talk to me. She’ll barely even look at me. She won’t let me touch her. She won’t…she won’t tell me what happened. She blames me. I know she does.” Eddie pushed out air between his lips, struggling to breath. He’d showed up to Wayne’s mid panic attack one morning when you refused to get out of bed. The both of you almost broke out in a fight, except you wouldn’t fight. You didn’t have the energy. It had been another three days gone by.

He was sitting on his uncle’s old sofa, going back and forth from putting his head between his knees or fisting his hair with his hands. Wayne was making himself a fresh cup of coffee, watching as his nephew suffer through his anxiety.

“No, buddy, she doesn’t. She’s just hurtin’.” He poured the coffee into his mug.

“Then why won’t she let me in?” He bounced his knee. “Why won’t she let me help her? She blames me.”

“Try to imagine yourself in her shoes, Ed.” Wayne came over, cradling his mug as he pulled out the kitchen chair, sitting himself in front of his nephew.

“I can’t.” Eddie shook his head. “I can’t even begin to imagine what she’s feeling.”

“That’s my point.” His uncle continued, raising his mug. “You don’t have the slightest idea what she’s going through, you’ve got to give her more time. It’s not even been a week yet, buddy. I know you’re anxious to help her. She’s lucky to have you.”

She’s lucky to have you.

He bit his nail nervously, thinking back to leaving you at the trailer, covered in blankets and refusing to get out of bed. He shouldn’t have left you, but he was on the verge of another breakdown and needed his uncle.

“Why is she so angry?” He gulped, his throat dry from his quick breathing. “I’ve never seen her this angry before.”

“Because she doesn’t know how to process what she went through.” Wayne placed his coffee on the table after another sip. “When we’re hurtin’, sometimes it turns to anger. I think you can relate to that, huh?”

He could. With the kind of life he led, his childhood, everything after vecna and the trauma he endured, he knew exactly what his father figure was talking about. When you hurt, when you have nothing else to feel, you get pissed off.

•

When Eddie got back home, he knew you were still in bed. The lights were off, the tv was off. The poor fish you shared hadn’t been fed yet. He quietly walked into your shared bedroom, the sunlight peering through the curtains, illuminating your face. The blankets were tangled around you, your arms hugging the pillow. You stared at the wall into nothingness, s blank look on your face that spoke volumes of emotion. You were heartbroken.

Eddie watched you for awhile, making his way to sit at the foot of the bed. He sat by your feet, putting his hand on your blanket covered ankles, squeezing them reassuringly. “How about something to eat, huh?”

It took you several seconds to respond. “I’m not hungry.”

He would much rather you be angry than like this. A zombie, unwillingly to move or breath, not able to function or communicate with him.

“What about some tea?” He tried, eyes soft and round, his hand softly rubbing circles on your leg.

You cringed under his touch, shaking your head. “I don’t want tea, Eddie.”

Then, Eddie’s throat filled with a ball of sick, but he quickly forced it back down. You said his name with such malice, such hatred and venom that told him everything he needed to know. You did blame him.

His eyes filled with tears and he stared at the wall. “I’m so sorry, baby.” He closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

He’d said it time and time again, but his words came out in a desperation that he hadn’t yet conveyed to you.

“I don’t blame you for hating me.” He sniffled, his curls shaking with the weight of his shoulders. “I’m to blame and-”

“Eddie, please,” You sobbed, making him practically flinch in surprise. You were crying. “Stop it.”

He let out a whimper, falling to his knees so he could kneel at your head. “Honey,” He cried. “My baby girl, I can’t stand the thought of you hating me. Please, angel, just let me take care of you. Talk to me. Let me in.” He was begging you with a cracked, broken voice that made you sob right along with him.

His hand went to touch your cheek, but you flinched and sat up, bringing the blankets up to your chest. “It’s not you, Eddie!” You blubbered, snot running down your nose. “I don’t hate you! You can’t think that! P-please, don’t think that!”

He crawled up on the bed to sit in front of you, hot tears still rolling down his face. “Then why are you shutting me out? We’re supposed to be a team! We promised each other! You promised me and I promised you! Please, baby, I have to know what happened! It’s killing me!”

“I can’t!” You exclaimed, your tousled up hair falling at the sides. “Oh, God, Eddie, I can’t! I can’t talk about it! I can’t do anything! I just want to lay here and die!” You coiled over and wailed broken-heartedly, a song of cries that boiled out of your throat and paralyzed you. You curled up into a ball and practically screamed into the blankets. Eddie was shaking, bringing up a hand to bit as hard as he could, not knowing if you would allow him to touch you,

He placed one hand on you gently, and when you didn’t pull away, he quickly gathered you in his arms. “I’m here, baby. I’m here. I’m here, sweetheart. Just let it out. Let it out, let it out.”

You let him hold you, and in desperation of the moment, you wrapped your arm around his leg to bring the heat of his body flush to yours. You bawled your heart out into him, emptying all your fears and sorrow.

“I- I can’t stop- thinking a-bout him!” You said hysterically, your tears making his jean covered knee damp. “It hurt so-so bad, Eddie!” It sounded like your cries caused you physical pain, your words coming out choppy and broken.

Your bruised ribs ached from your heavy sobs, your hands going to hold your stomach. “God, oh, God, Eddie, I can’t do it! I can’t! I can’t!”

“You don’t have to.” He said firmly, trying to control his own sobs so you could understand him. “You give all that pain to me, okay? You give it all to me. I can handle it. You let me take care of you. I’m always going to take care of you, sweetheart.”

Your bruised nose had started to bleed onto his jeans, going unnoticed from the both of you. You were hyperventilating, shaking and practically convulsing in his arms.

“Come on, baby,” He held you to his chest, your body still curled up against him. “It’s okay, I’m here. Just let it out. Tell me what you need to.”

It hurt. It hurt so bad. He hurt me so bad and I couldn’t stop him. I’m so scared. I’m scared he’s going to find me. I don’t want you to look at me differently. I feel so weak. Please still love me. Please stay with me. Don’t tell anyone I’m afraid.

You cried for so many things, but he listened to every last word you had to offer him. You told him what happened. A man had followed you into the bedroom, forced you down and split your legs apart, punching you in the nose and kneeing you in the ribs, shoving himself inside you like a sword, piercing it’s way into you roughly. You had cried and cried, screamed and begged, till you didn’t, finally going into shock and laying there, taking it.

Eddie had tried his hardest not to breakdown at your confession, but he could only do so much. He held you into the dark of night, promising what he had said. He was always going to take care of you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #female reader #i’m always going to take care of you

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