[writtenbychrissturniolo]

🦌 pink. stranger things. madison beer. joe keery. vanilla. writing. chris sturniolo. reading. she/her. irl sarah cameron. blankets. rainy days. sabrina carpenter.

masterlist. aus. taglist. pinterest.

reqs and inbox open.

© writtenbychrissturniolo EST. || NOV ‘25

[faestria]

He's just nice

Based off this ask <3

Summary: Everyone is convinced you're dating Mattheo Riddle- except for you Content: Oblivious!Reader, Fem!Reader, Downbad!Mattheo, romance, humor, fluff, reader is friends with the Golden Trio, reader is alluded to not be in Slytherin Warnings: Swearing, ass ending Note: I took way too long to write this considering how much I enjoyed it. W/c: 4.1k

.・゜゜・❁・゜゜・．

It started with miniature snowmen in Third year.

Mattheo was walking back from turning in a late assignment to Hagrid when he saw you. And he realized, he'd never truly noticed you before. Y/n L/n, the girl who spent time with everyone but him and his mates.

Your back was to him, and you were crouched down in the snow. The snow- it was drifting lazily then, each snowflake fat, falling and adding to the coating of it on the Hogwarts lawn.

When he walked closer, confused as to why anyone was willingly outside in the dreadful cold, he expected you to be sulking or shaking.

Instead your gloved fingers were rolling around small balls of snow and stacking them into snowmen.

There were four of them already, in a half circle where you seemed to have made a round table.

Your cheeks were rosy, eyes bright despite the chill.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He couldn't resist- even though he knew he was supposed to be a scary Slytherin.

You looked up at him, surprised to see someone else- especially surprised to see it was Mattheo Riddle. He was the one Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the other Gryffindors hated because his dad was You-Know-Who.

"I got locked out."

You said it like it was obvious. That anyone would settle down to make snowmen after getting locked out of the castle.

"You got locked out?" He asked, incredulous. Why the hell hadn't you walked around to a window or different entrance? Why hadn't you pulled out your bloody wand and used magic?

You nodded.

"You're going to freeze," he stated, unable to just walk away and ignore you. You frowned at that, as if finally considering the real possibility of getting sick. Looking at your snowmen once more, you stood, brushing snow off your knit gloves.

"We should go inside then," you suggested, already turning to approach the door that had been locked earlier. When you tugged, it gave the same result. You looked back at him, as if to say, 'told you so'.

Mattheo watched you, startled. You really didn't care who he was, did you? Shaking his head, he walked over and knocked.

It was only a few moments later that the doors were pushed open, and Professor Sprout started at you two, horrified.

"See? Easy," he murmured low to you. It must've looked odd to Professor Sprout, seeing the sweetheart Miss L/n with Mattheo Riddle, both of you flushed from the cold, snowflakes in your hair and on your coats.

"Dear- why were you two out there so long?" She fussed, grabbing her wand, casting some charm that automatically warmed both you from the inside out.

You smiled, honest, genuine. "The door was locked."

"Oh, Peeves," Sprout complained, turning around to try and catch the poltergeist.

But Mattheo couldn't stop looking at you.

You were smiling. Honestly, truly smiling despite being frozen and stuck outside. He would've been livid if he'd had to sit in the snow storm for so long.

And he didn't stop looking at you then. That moment was only the beginning of Mattheo Riddle's crush.

By fourth year, all of his mates knew.

They'd seen their friend staring at you from across classes, how'd he'd purposely bump into you in the hallways, apologizing and helping you pick up any dropped items up.

One afternoon, he was blatantly staring at you from across the Great Hall- the room cleared of tables, students lining the walls.

He was on one side and you were on the other, your arm linked with Hermione Granger's as you chatted, smiling. McGonagall was standing in front of all you fourth years and older, something about not embarrassing Hogwarts in front of the other schools.

Before Mattheo knew what was happening, Theo was tugging him forward as everyone spread out in the room. People were partnering up, and Mattheo had no idea why. He'd been thoroughly distracted.

"Dance lessons, you prat," Theo sniggered, already leaving his side to walk over to a beckoning Tracey Davis.

Dance lessons?

You saw him then.

He was standing near a great big window, his curls falling into his eyes as he looked around. No one was approaching him- which was odd honestly- he was very handsome.

Ignoring Hermione's confusion, you walked over to him.

His chocolate eyes slid over to you as you neared. You weren't deterred at the lack of welcoming in them.

"Would you like to dance together?" You asked, smiling at him.

There was a long pause, almost long enough to make you feel awkward. But he finally shrugged, straightening and extending his hand.

"Sure."

You took his hand, stepping closer.

"Have you danced before?" You asked him, copying those around you and settling a hand on his shoulder while he hovered his over your waist.

He nodded, and you watched his throat as he swallowed. "I have."

McGonagall waved her wand and music started up. Everyone turned to watch her dance with Ron. Soon after, the other students were mimicking their steps.

Mattheo was telling the truth, he had obviously danced before. It took a moment, but he finally held your waist properly, and he guided the dance while you followed.

After that, you were nearly friends.

People reminded you very often who he was. They always wanted you to be sure who you were inviting to sit with you in the Library if he walked in without Theodore Nott. He was Mattheo Riddle, son of You-Know-Who. He was scary, mean, unafraid to talk back to a teacher, or hex someone who got on his nerves.

But you ignored those warnings. He wasn't scary. Sure, he constantly looked like he was cross, but he wasn't scary.

Your friendship solidified in fifth year.

Everyone noticed it. Their eyebrows would raise and their eyes would widen when you'd walk around with him and his mates in the hallways. They were all shocked to see you chatting away with him while he listened- actually listened with a slight smile and his head ducked to hear you better over the other people in the hallways. They were shocked he didn't tell you to shut up or fuck off.

The two of you would go to Hogsmeade together, you explaining to Hermione that he had no one to go with, or that he offered to walk you.

He had also started inviting you to sit with him too, and you accepted more often than not, ignoring Harry's sharp words of friendships with fucking monsters.

Mattheo would invite you to sit with him in class, the Library, or outside while he, Theodore, and Lorenzo lazed on the wall of the Viaduct Bridge.

You were doing just that one Saturday in October. Theodore had cast a charm to keep the rain off the four of you.

"You have to visit sometime over break," Lorenzo said, leaning against the wall you sat on. He was telling you all about his families estate and how the others boy often came over to stay there. "We'll play Dragon's Hoard- you'll probably be on Mattheo's team anyways and him and Blaise are the best at it."

"That's the one where you have to capture the other teams egg, right?" You asked. Mattheo was sat next to you then, his hand resting next to yours as you listened to Lorenzo. "Where it gets heavier the further you move it away."

Lorenzo nodded, setting off on a story of all of them playing it one time. He was interrupted halfway through by Hermione stomping over, wind whipping her curly hair. You frowned, noticing her glare over at Ron and Harry who were huddled close by, watching intently.

"'Mione?" You asked, looking down at her as she got close, stopping. You didn't notice the wariness in her expression as she glanced at the boys you were hanging out with.

"Want to keep me company while I watch Harry and Ron's Quidditch Practice?"

"Oh!" You smiled, nodding, scooting off the wall. "I'd love to."

"Careful, pretty girl," Mattheo said as you reached for the bridge below with your toe, climbing down from where you sat.

Hermione shot him a look while you brushed off you backside. Before you stepped outside of the shimmering bubble Theodore made, you quickly cast your own, turning to face Mattheo.

"I'll see you in class on Monday," you said, smiling at him. He smiled back, the sight of it no longer rare to you, but warming your chest nonetheless.

You waved goodbye to the others before setting off with Hermione back to Ron and Harry.

"Pretty girl?" Hermione asked once you were out of ear shot. You laughed in amusement at her disgusted tone.

"He's nice, 'Mione," you explained, rolling your eyes good naturedly. "You guys all say he's mean, but he really is just nice."

She scoffed. "Yeah. Mattheo Riddle is 'just nice'."

Mattheo's crush had only worsened since third year.

He found every excuse to be near you. And he hated it when someone else had the pleasure of your company.

Despite how he found Harry a pompous-fucking-prat, he could look past the time you spent around him and Weasley. He was also fine to see you talking to Blaise, Theo, or Enzo. But anyone else made his head hurt and caused an urge to pick you up and keep you next to him at all times.

He fancied you- everyone knew that.

The worst part was you didn't even notice half the people he was hating. It got to the point where he noticed some sixth year talking to you during breakfast and he'd completely forgotten to eat.

And when you asked about his lack of appetite, sliding into your now regular seat beside him in Ancient Runes, he just said his stomach was upset.

"Do you need to go to Madam Pomfrey?" You asked, concerned. Mattheo had to remind himself you were just being a good friend.

"I'm okay, pretty girl," he assured you.

You eyed him for a moment before sighing. "Make sure to drink water. Maybe you're dehydrated."

He laughed, earning a frustrated side eye from you. "Okay, I will." He reached out as you bent over your books, pushing your hair behind your ear.

"Thank you," you said, your tone suggesting you saw it as nothing more than him being helpful.

"No problem," he murmured, watching you as you focused on writing down the date on a piece of parchment. And he knew right then, he was either going to end up marrying you or die trying to get you to notice him.

Finally, in sixth year, everyone at Hogwarts assumed you and Mattheo were dating.

You spent nearly all of your time together, and anyone could see it. He began carrying your books in his bag after you complained once that your shoulder was sore. You'd sit with him at meals and in classes without a second thought. He'd lend you his jumper whenever you were cold.

One Monday morning when you were mid conversation with Blaise, Mattheo sidled up to you, his arm already finding its place around you shoulders. You response to Blaise's remark on the House hierachy didn't break when Mattheo pressed a kiss to the top of your head, your response to the greeting being to lean into his side. It was familiar, a comfortable show of friendship between the two of you.

Blaise let out an unimpressed laugh at the gesture before turning to Malfoy.

Smiling, you looked up at Mattheo. "Good morning," you said.

"Good morning, pretty girl," he replied, returning you smile, his eyes softer than usual. You huffed suddenly, glowering at his throat.

"Your tie, Mattheo- honestly," you complained, pulling away from his side. His green and silver Slytherin tie was done poorly, lopsided and half tightened. Sighing, you undid it, straightening both ends of the fabric. He paused for half a breath before a warmth spread through his chest. The same warmth he felt every time you paid him extra attention.

He never said it out loud- but he purposely messed up his tie a lot more often after that.

"Are we still studying tonight?" He asked once you were finished, a small, satisfied smile on his mouth.

"Yes- I might be late though," you explained with a frown at the obvious disappoint in his brown eyes. "I promised Mibby to help her press those flowers her and I picked the other day."

He sighed dramatically, arms circling around you as his chin rested on your head. "So you can't get out of it? Mibby reallyyyy needs you?"

"She reallyyyy needs me," you confirm, automatically hugging him back, laughing.

Mibby was your favorite house elf, the one you befriended in second year. The same Mattheo had also been friends with around the same time- before you two were even on speaking terms.

"Can I come then?" He asked, pulling back as the Bell Tower sent its musical chimes through the castle, signaling first period.

Your smile brightened immediately at his words. He was already starting to steer you towards your first period- Herbology- which he unfortunately didn't have with you. "Of course! Meet me outside the kitchens at seven."

Having already been in Central Hall, it wasn't a long walk, and he stopped outside the Greenhouse Doors.

"I'll see you then, pretty girl," he promised, squeezing your hand that he had been holding.

For him- seven couldn't come early enough. He had to sit through classes- only one of them he shared with you- imagining being silly with you the kitchens. He pictured getting flour on your robes or cheek so he could brush it off.

And finally, outside of the fruit bowl painting, you showed up. He'd been waiting there for some time, embarrassingly enough, leaning against the cool stone walls.

"Matt-" You startled when you saw him before grinning. You didn't think he'd be so early. "You're on time."

"Missed my favorite pretty girl," he said simply, putting an arm around your shoulders. He reached out with his wand, tickling the pear on the painting, and it swung inwards. The two of you walked into the kitchens, immediately greeted with the scent of comforting foods. Roasts, gravy, and yorkshire puddings. The elves were still sending supper up to the Great Hall, leaving the kitchens smelling of dinner foods.

Mibby hurried over to you two immediately, a smile on her tiny elf face. "Mibby has hot cocoa waiting for Miss l/n and Master Riddle," she declared, standing in front of the two of you. "Mibby thinks they are a wonderful pair."

You laughed, not unkind, smiling. "We are not a pair."

You saw as Mibby tilt her large head, confusion dampening the edges of her beaming smile. "Oh. Then why does Master Riddle always ask if Miss l/n has eaten?"

"You ask about me?" You turned to look up at Mattheo.

"Yes," he shrugged, honest. Because he wasn't embarrassed. He would be shocked if this was the thing that made you catch on. "Because you've passed out outside of Charms before after skipping breakfast, and I'd rather not have to lug you up to Madam Pomfrey again."

That bit was a lie. He had no problem carrying you anywhere.

"Oh right." You laughed, flushing ever so slightly, your chest warming. Peeling away from Mattheo's side, you approached the barrels that had been shaped into a small, but cozy village for the house elves down here. "Mibby, should we get started?"

And then one Thursday while you're waiting for Mattheo outside the Slytherin changing rooms- his quidditch practice having just finished- it all changes.

You lean against the wooden stands that tower above, your eyes unfocused as you wait. Other people are around you, waiting for their own mates, or just chatting and sitting on the soft pitch now that practice is over.

Too zoned out, you don't notice the Slytherins have started emerging from the locker rooms. And it's a few moments later that you see Mattheo talking to another Slytherin girl.

She must be younger than you two because you've never seen her in classes before. She's pretty, sharp eyes, black hair sleek down her back. You watch as she gives him a smile. Not some soft smile, she's confident, admirable. Her eyes hold his before you see their focus slip down towards his mouth.

You realize that she's flirting with him. Flirting with your Mattheo. No one ever flirts with Mattheo.

But from the way his lips move, he's obviously giving short answers. His eyes are detached, almost cold. He's not mean, but he's far from interested in this girl.

Frowning, you think for a long moment. Isn't he like that with everyone? Even with Pansy and Daphne who are in his friend group. He's never been awfully warm with girls.

Except for you. And it all suddenly hits you.

He only smiles at you and maybe two other people.

He carries your books everywhere.

He always just happens to be waiting outside of your classes.

He gives you his gloves or coat whenever you seem to be cold.

He remembers what treats you like best and never fails to buy them at Hogsmeade- saying he forgot he wasn't a fan of them.

He lets you hold his hand and trace the scar cutting across his palm and over half the back of it.

He always seems a tad bit moodier after you talk to a boy who isn't him.

He calls you pretty girl.

And he's being doing it for years.

For years you realize that the boy who puts his arm around your shoulders, who kisses your head as a good morning every day at breakfast- has been doing it out of more than being a good friend.

You realize that all of your own reactions and feelings had been deeper than appreciation.

The warmth you'd feel whenever he did something thoughtful- you see now that it wasn't because you thought he was a good friend. You liked that he was the one doing it.

There was always disappointment whenever he missed something. Breakfast, a study session, your late night chats that almost got you caught after curfew many times. It wasn't because you were lonely- you just missed him.

If something exciting happened- he was the first person you thought of. It was always, "I have to tell Mattheo." It stopped being your roommates who got it first, or Hermione. It became him every time.

You've always felt safer around him. It didn't matter how many people told you he was dangerous. That he was cruel and a monster. You knew him. You knew that Mattheo was kind to the people he cared for. And you know now that whenever he was close, any anxiety or fear you felt was calmed. Because you were with him.

Every feeling you've had for Mattheo- it wasn't just gratitude and friendship. It was affection. It was attraction and butterflies. You just never properly realized that the past few years, you've wanted him just as badly.

And now some pretty girl is flirting with your Mattheo.

"Y'alright?"

A familiar voice breaks your thoughts. Theo, changed out of his quidditch uniform, leaning against the wall next to you. He studies your face, your wide eyes, your parted lips.

"Theo," you say, before pausing. "I think Mattheo has been flirting with me for three years."

You see the slow smile curl on his lips, hear the way he lets out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

"You've only just now worked that out?"

You always thought that love would declare itself.

You thought it would be loud and dramatic.

But you hadn't expected it to feel like this- like comfort. Like looking for him in every room. Or smiling when he hadn't even finished speaking. Or saving seats for him without even considering he might sit somewhere else.

You had mistaken your love for comfort and familiarity. And mistaken that, in turn, for friendship.

It was never just friendship. You've loved him for a long time, your friendship and those feelings mixed until you couldn't tell them apart. The happiness and safety and comfort you've associated with him run so much deeper than plain friendship.

Awestruck, almost horrified at how dense you must've been, you stare at Mattheo's side profile. He's still talking to the Slytherin girl. And now suddenly you understand every mean look girls have given you. They were all jealous you had the attention of the most intimidating boy at Hogwarts. The most handsome boy at Hogwarts.

He was never lonely. He was just picking you.

"Oh, Theo," you groan, covering your face. "I am so thick!"

Theo laughs again, not mocking, he's genuinely amused you caught up. "It's all right. I'm just glad you finally see it- we were all a little in pain watching you two."

That's the moment Mattheo decides to leave the pretty Slytherin girl, walking over to you and Theo.

You are completely mortified.

Theo just smirks. He pats Mattheo's shoulder wordlessly before walking off.

Mattheo, as always, notices something is off. "You okay, pretty girl?"

Somehow, you manage to nod and get a few words out. "Can we go on a walk?"

"'Course." He nods slowly, taking your hand and leading you off the quidditch pitch and down a path towards a stream. His hold on your hand feels different now, more deliberate, warmer.

When the two of you finally stop, you can't even manage to look at him. You haven't ever properly flirted with a boy- at least not intentionally.

But you make yourself speak anyways. You can't make either of your wait any longer.

"The past couple years.. have you been flirting with me?"

The words sound horrible out loud- ridiculous and you fear he might laugh despite knowing he would never be that mean to you.

He sighs.

And you force yourself to look at him, at how he's already searching your face.

"Yes."

You take a breath. "I thought you were being kind."

He lets out a laugh, similar to Theo's, but filled with the affection you'd misunderstood for years. "Merlin, pretty girl."

Your stomach tightens, warms, as he steps closer.

"I've been trying to court you."

You swallow. "For how long?"

"Fourth year. Since the beginning of it when I saw you at the start of term feast." He says it simply, honestly.

"Everyone knew," you manage to mumble. A smile finds his mouth, and slowly, waiting for your silent permission, his hand lifts. You let it, let him cup your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his eyes properly.

"Yes, everyone knew."

"Even Mibby."

"Mibby was one of the first," he says, still smiling. "Behind Theo, Enzo, Blaise, and Granger. Then the whole school followed."

"Everyone but me." You frown, embarrassed and upset you wasted so much time. "That is so irritating- for you as well," you complain.

He shook his head, his free hand finding yours and lacing your fingers like you've done countless times. "It was never irritating. I lasted this long, didn't I? I was never upset with you. I always thought it was cute- maybe frustrating at times when all I wanted to do was kiss you- but never irritating."

You feel your cheeks heat, and his smile widens.

"Now," he says, talking carefully "I can tell all of Hogwarts that we are dating?"

It's not a statement. He's asking you. And you can manage is a soft, "yes," and a nod.

His thumb swipes over your cheekbone. "Brilliant," he murmurs, eyes sliding lower than where they usually meet yours. "Because I have been surviving off their assumptions and praying people don't try and fancy you."

Carefully, just like how he cupped your jaw, he ducks his head closer. And you let him, your empty hand finding the fabric of his jumper, clutching it.

His kisses you. He kisses you slowly, and your eyes flutter shutter. You pour every bit of love you've felt for him into how you respond, you mouth meeting his. This is much different from when he'd feed you something off his utensils or share a drink with you. You're kissing Mattheo Riddle.

After that, things don't change much. He still kisses the top of your head, still carries your books and lends you his coat.

He's still your Mattheo from fourth year.

But now you're openly called his girlfriend, now he kisses you properly or pulls you into his lap simply to be close to you. And you recognize your love for him as what it is.

[matteoberrettini]

lamine yamal before barcelona's quarterfinal second leg in the 2026 champions league

[ilostmywingz]

why does nobody write for lamine ?? do u not care about this gorgeous man ?? DO YOU NOT CARE ABOUT ME ??

take this as a sign to write for him 🙏

[versains]

LAMINE YAMAL and his brother after Spain's 2-1 victory over Belgium

[snipky]

For you, always | Jobe Bellingham

Months of navigating different time zones, unsaid words and dismissed feelings have caused your and Jobe's relationship to start crumbling. After seeing you in the stands, supporting him, after a fight, he breaks down in tears as he's leaving the field.

"Fucks sake, what do you expect me to do?" Jobe's voice rings out over the phone. "I'm working, I can't just be there whenever you want." You're shocked by his harsh words, tears welling up in your eyes. But you quickly shrug them away.

"Are you serious right now, I know that-- you don't think I know that Jobe?" your voice raises irritatedly. "I've supported you through all of this, I understand, I never asked or expected anything from you, and I never complained, it didn't matter because I had you." you voice out frustrated. "What matters is that you never call, you never check up on me anymore, you're always either exhausted or out with the team. Your excuses are getting predictable." you accuse him. "It's like I don't even matter anymore." Your voice breaks on the last word, your confidence slowly shrinking.

Jobe sighs and after a few seconds he finally speaks, "Love-- fuck I'm sorry, I never meant for you to feel like that, like an after thought, genuinely, I'm sorry."

You clear your throat, masking away your sadness. "It's fine, I just need you to try, please."

"I will baby, you don't have-" He gets cut off by the sounds of his teammates speaking loudly. "Shit baby, I have to go right now, but we're good right?" He asks slightly rushed.

You sigh inwardly, "Sure sure, I hope have a good pra-"

And before you can finish your sentence, the line goes dead.

You stare at the blank screen disappointed, because the truth is, it was never fine. It's not been fine for a while now. And the worst part-- Jobe just doesn't seem to really care anymore.

The struggle of the different time zones has slowly been creeping it's way into your and Jobe's relationship, at first everything seemed somewhat manageable, you both optimistic about figuring out the long distance, but now after months of being apart, that has changed drastically. Everything between you two getting harder to manage with each passing day.

This doesn't bother you though, what bothers you though is that it seems he's completely forgotten you exist.

"What are you doing, baby" You'd ask. "Me and the boys are out tonight- Yeah, can you get me a drink!" He'd laugh with teammates. "Just having a few beers tonight, before coach kills us Monday morning", "That sounds nice baby, just don't have too much fun." You'd try to joke. "Yeah yeah" he'd say nevermindedly. "Night baby" is all he'd say before he'd end the call.

You'd put up with this for months, because the truth, is you love him so much. You love his quirks, his laugh, how stupid he sometimes could be, his little moods... you love everything about him, and you simply can't imagine what you'd do without him in your life. And that's why you decided to put up with it, because just maybe you two could make it work.

A single tear falls from your eye at the thoughts forming in your head and you swipe it away, realising. I won't cry. Because if you did, you'd be admitting to yourself that your and Jobe's relationship truly is struggling.

Your phone rings, Denise's name lights up the screen. You take a composing breath before answering. "Hi Denise," you say sweetly. "How's everything?"

From the moment you met Jobe's family two years ago, you and Denise immediately clicked, she was like a second mother to you, always listening to you rant about the silliest stuff and giving the most perfect advice when you're struggling at work.

"Hi baby girl, how are you-" she doesn't give you a second to answer and immediately continues talking. "When are you flying in for Jobe's game?"

You're eyes shoot open instantly, you haven't even though about that. You sigh before speaking, "Honestly, I don't even know if I should go..." you say softly.

"What do you mean?" she askes softly.

"Denise, you know I'd never ever want to turn you against your son... it's just that I don't think Jobe would even want me there right now." you say defeatedly.

Denise gasps softly, "How could you even say that, that boy loves you more than anything, why wouldn't he want you there?" concerned she adds, "You're his everything." she states it as a fact.

"It just hasn't felt like that these last few months, and I know it's supposed to be hard- us being so far apart and everything, but why doesn't it feel like I'm his everything anymore?" You speak softly, tears now freely falling from your eyes.

"Oh, you poor baby." Denise speaks softly. "I know it's hard, but you and Jobe are each other's person. I know that for a fact. You two may be going through a rough patch right now-- it happens to the best of us-- but you'll make it out. Trust me. And I know that boy would absolutely love it if you were there supporting him, even if he can't say it." She speaks purposefully. "Look, me and Mark are going in two days time and we're booking you a ticket." You're about to speak when she cuts you off, "No, no, listen to me. You're coming and that's the end of the story. You don't want me calling him and biting his head off for how he's been treating you, do you?"

You laugh through your tears, sniffing. "Yeah no, I don't want that... you're right." you're quite for a second before speaking, "Thank you Denise, I appreciate you so much."

"Aw" she laughs, "You don't have to thank me, I mean you're my daughter in law, I'm here for everything-- especially slagging off Jobe." she whispers the last part.

At that you laugh out loudly, "Denise!"

"Yeah yeah", she replies brushing her comment off, "We'll see you at the airport then?" You sigh happily, "You will, you and Mark have a nice day."

"Thank you baby girl, you too. Bye" she replies. You sing out a bye before ending the call.

You sigh loudly, even if Jobe didn't want you there, you'd be there. Because even if things were rocky right now, you'd still support him through anything and everything.

The energy in the first half of the game is electric, the stadium roaring with infectious support. The crowd shouting proudly at every successful pass and practically jumping out of their seats each time a goal is attempted. But somewhere past the second half, the game changed for the worst.

The ball gets passed to him successfully, he dribbles up to the box with precision and attempts to score--the crowd groans in disappointment-- he missed the shot. Your eyebrows draw together concerned.

Your eyes find Jobe automatically-- he's off his game today, missing passes and standing around, it's like his head is not in the game at all.

Denise's hand finds yours and you turn to give her a faint smile. "Don't worry so much" she smiles and all you could manage was to nod your head while your eyes were fixated on the field.

The game flew by fastly, The team attempting to score, but missing every time, and now they're unfortunately behind by two points.

In the last minute the crowd started to get restless, slightly irritated and disappointed, nothing was going correctly, and you could see that.

The final whistle blew harshly, and Jobe's hands found his head disappointed. You hate to see him like this, let down in himself.

You sit in the stadium seats quietly, watching the supporters slowly leave, one by one. The players finally moving towards their families.

Jobe turns away from the crowd, heading towards where his parents usually sit.

"Go to him... " Denise's gentle voice snaps you out of your head, softly squeezing your shoulder.

"Yeah..." you say nodding softly. You stand from your seat hesitantly, and your legs slowly start moving towards the entrance Jobe's walking to.

You carefully walk towards the end of the seats, your heart pounding against your chest with every step.

A few strides from you Jobe abruptly stops as he notices you. You stare at each other for what feels like minutes, you can't seem to understand what he's thinking, what's going on in he's mind-- but then you're absolutely shocked.

Jobe's shoulders slouch down, he's head looking down, and his hand comes up to cover his eyes. Is-- is he crying?

He starts moving and so do you and when you're finally in front of each other you whisper softly, "Jobe?" concern lacing your voice.

His looks at you and you immediately find his red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. You silently move to hug him and his head falls on your shoulder softly, his arms move around your waist tightly.

And you swear this hug feels a hell of a lot like an apology.

Jobe sniffles softly, his head still on your shoulder and his hands now pulling you impossibly closer to him.

"I'm so so so fucking sorry, love." he says into your shoulder. "Jobe, baby--" you start your hands gently rubbing his back. He interrupts you swiftly, now looking directly at you, "No, don't baby me, I don't deserve your comfort right now, I've been nothing but an absolute dick to you-- and you didn't deserve it... any of it. I was stressed, overwhelmed and overworked, and I took it all out on you and you never said anything... I know I don't deserve you after how shitty I've been-- but god am I happy you're here right now."

Your heart swells at his apology, and you go soft immediately. You throw your arms around his neck gently and you sadly smile at his words.

"Jobie-- for you, always" you whisper honestly. He laughs his eyes still full of tears and he's hands find your cheeks gently, "I love you." he says soflty before kissing you. And you kiss him back.

The kiss isn't rough nor is it demanding. It's deliberate and soft-- it's apologetic.

You laugh breaking the kiss, gently wiping the tears from his cheeks. "Let's go find your parents..." You joke, intertwining you hand with his.

A/N

hihi! i've been working on this for WAY too long, and i genuinely don't know if it works, im sorry but i just needed a yearning jobe. hopefully you all enjoyed it <3

banner/divider by @im4yeons

[conleches]

some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs

body language masterlist

a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does

a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes

550 words to say instead of fuckin said

638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again

some more body language help 

[bellero]

REBLOG TO SAVE A WRITER

[maybelmascara]

im thinking of doing a smau for novelist!reader x jude bellingham. i think i remember in one video a fan gave him a bookmark-like thing and jude said smth along the lines of "i haven't picked up a book in years" but suddenly with novelist!reader hes picked up the classics like Dostoevsky 😭😭😭

[procrastination-queenie]

The Other Man

JOBE BELLINGHAM x FEM!READER

Synopsis: "Jobe thought he was the only man in his girlfriend's life. Then he met Milo."

Genre: Fluff, Comedy, very light angst.

Warning ⚠️: mentions of a previous pet loss.

Jobe had never, in his entire life, thought he'd have to compete for his girlfriend's love and attention against... a cat.

Never.

Not even once had the thought crossed his mind.

It started out on a very normal Friday night, when he was over at your place to pick you up for your first date.

He got you flowers, pretty ones. The kind that looked like they were picked carefully and chosen deliberately, not just the first bouquet he saw and grabbed. You beamed at the thought of him choosing each and every flower. You thanked him and excused yourself to put them in a vase before you guys headed out. He stood by the door, tall, brooding, and very out of place inside your soft, cozy little apartment. He looked around. Everything had your taste written all over it, even the lighting was very warm and inviting. Everything seemed to be in place, nothing weird or bizarre, except... a white cat, sitting on your counter, silently watching him closely. Its tail swaying swiftly and very slowly, in a calculating manner. The cat did not even blink. It stood its ground, judging him openly. Jobe had entered its territory, and the cat did not like that... at all.

"I am good to go," you said, grabbing your purse and heading for the door. Jobe, who was in a staring contest with... a cat, shook his head a bit and opened the door for you.

"That's a nice cat you've got," he said, nodding his head towards your cat.

"Oh, that's Milo." You quickly made your way over to the cat, Milo, or whatever... and gave him a kiss and a few hurried scratches under the chin, then headed towards Jobe.

"Bye, baby."

Milo meowed back and looked towards Jobe in a way he would describe as: this is not over.

The second time Jobe witnessed your cat's obsession with you was through an Instagram story, which you reposted from your best friend's account. It was a girls' night out, and you and your friends were getting ready at your apartment. Again, nothing was out of the ordinary. You were simply applying some makeup and—uh, there it is. The fluff ball which was inspecting him a few days ago from the counter of your kitchen was perched on the counter by the sink of your bathroom, looking at you like you hung the stars.

Instead of black slits swimming in caramel eyes, judging every breath he took, Milo's pupils were wide and soft, glossy with nothing but love and admiration for you.

Milo was in awe, he could tell.

Jobe himself was in awe of you all the time, but the fact that there was competition against him from... a cat was a bit weird.

The video continued as your friend now focused on Milo, tilting his head to the side in admiration and slowly moving towards you. A small, gentle paw reached out to playfully tap your makeup brush, which resulted in a breathtaking smile that Jobe was hundred percent sure was only reserved for him.

That little shit, he thought, acting all cute and stealing my girlfriend from me.

All this time, Jobe was trying not to let it get to his head. It's just a cat, right? The rivalry started to be noticeable when your relationship with Jobe started to get more serious, especially when he would stay over at your place.

It was still early in the morning. Jobe felt the glare of the sun on his face.

It might as well be Milo's, he thought as he slowly opened his eyes, adjusting them to his surroundings.

And... he was not wrong.

His chin was resting on top of your head, and when he started moving, he noticed your fluff ball sitting by your pillow at the top of your head, looking at him with a judgmental stare that was even harsher than the sun's glare.

Jobe swallowed, not knowing how he was supposed to deal with your... "son," as you affectionately referred to him. He decided not to disturb your sleep and very slowly untangled himself from you and headed to the bathroom.

After exactly five to seven minutes, he came back to realise that he had been betrayed by you nonetheless.

Your annoying fluff ball had decided to steal his place in the warmth of your arms. He was like a motor, a purring machine, again acting all cute, tossing and turning in your arms. You were half-awake by now, petting his belly, then scratching his chin and planting a sweet kiss by his whiskers, whispering a soft, "Good morning, baby."

...There goes Jobe's morning kiss that was meant for him.

Milo had managed to steal it from him.

Milo : Jobe

1 : 0

He sensed Jobe's movement when he turned to sit on his side, watching Jobe like a hawk again. His stare was mocking. That was when you realised the hostile energy between the two.

And, of course, you were quick to calm Milo down with a few more kisses that Jobe was supposed to enjoy instead, and a few reassuring phrases in this cute-as-hell voice that you used to talk to animals.

Jobe sometimes wished you'd speak to him like that, especially on his bad days.

"It's okay, baaabbby."

"Who's a good boooyy?"

"I love you, I love you, I love you," accompanied by dozens of kisses plastered on his face.

Jobe could only sigh and let it go, but this was definitely not over.

A couple of months later, it was your birthday, and Jobe decided to surprise you and return early from abroad. Since your relationship was serious now, he had a copy of your keys to the apartment, which meant that he would be waiting for you until you got off work.

He arrived early and tried to make sure that everything was prepared: a small cake, a nice meal, some balloons floating around, which kept Milo busy for a bit from his staring-at-Jobe duties.

That's when Jobe decided to have a talk.

Yes, a talk with Milo.

He couldn't believe that he would have to discuss things with a cat, but here he was, sitting on the floor, cross-legged, trying to get Milo's attention.

"Okay, buddy, listen. I know that you were here first," Jobe said, rolling his eyes. "But seriously, you need to tone it down a bit on the affection. I mean, I am the boyfriend, and I don't get that much affection and kisses, seriously."

This got Jobe nothing but an empty stare, followed by what sounded closely like a scoff. (Can cats really do that? Jobe wondered for a sec.) And a few licks to his pink paws, which definitely indicated that Milo was not interested one bit in this conversation.

Jobe shook his head.

"What am I even doing... talking to a cat?"

A few seconds later, the sound of keys rattling could be heard from the other side of the door, which caught both their attention. Milo's ears turned sideways as he slowly got up, knowing very well that it was you.

Jobe also got up quickly, adjusting his clothes and standing there as if he was not trying to have a full-on conversation with your cat. He bolted quietly to the counter to hold your cake before you could open the door.

You opened the door with a sigh of relief that the day was finally over. To be honest, you had had better days, but that didn't matter because you're now home and could finally have a proper shower and cuddle with your baby while you sat and missed Jobe for two more days.

However, that plan was quickly thrown out of the window the moment your eyes fell on Jobe's tall frame standing there awkwardly, not knowing what to do with the cake he was holding.

"Oh, Jobe."

A cute pout was forming on your face. He was back early to celebrate your birthday.

He walked over to you slowly, trying not to trip while holding out the cake.

"Happy birthday, love."

His voice was so soft you could drown in it.

You slowly took the cake from his hands, blew out the candle that he must have lit seconds before you came in, put it aside, and jumped into his arms. Jobe's eyes widened for a second before his arms engulfed you in a tight hug.

"I can't believe you're here. I thought you had two more days before coming back."

Your breath tickled his neck softly.

He smiled.

"Couldn't wait to celebrate your birthday, princess. Missed you so much that I had to talk my coach into letting me return home early, so I could see you," he said, kissing the side of your head before planting a sweet kiss on your lips.

For a second, you forgot about Milo, which, of course, was a crime that he would not be silent about.

He made sure to meow a couple of times loudly to try and get your attention, then he decided to rest his paw on your leg and scratch at your pants.

You immediately pulled away, leaving Jobe chasing your lips for another second before giving up. He hoped you'd forget about Milo for a few more seconds, maybe even for the rest of the night if he was persuasive enough, but to no avail.

He sighed as you bent down to pick Milo up, scooping him into your arms like a baby.

"Oh, hi, babaaby. Did you miss me?" you asked in this baby voice that sounded like you were sure of an answer.

And yup, here it was.

Lo and behold, Milo placed cute little licks to the side of your face, which turned you into a complete mush and resulted in a giggle that made Jobe's eyebrows lift.

Really?

"Well, I missed you too, baby." You planted multiple kisses to the side of his face.

Milo turned his face to allow you more room for kisses while looking at Jobe to enjoy his humiliation.

Jobe sighed in disbelief.

Milo : Jobe

2 : 0

It was date night, and Jobe finally had some time off with the championship over. He had promised he would take you to the new Italian restaurant this weekend.

You were getting ready in the bathroom while he was dressing in your bedroom. He got almost dressed up and made sure to look extra handsome just for you. He wore that suit that you loved on him.

He was adjusting his collar in front of the mirror by your door, ready to ask you if you could help him with his tie. He knew how to do it, but you did it better, and he liked it better when you tied it for him.

Milo was standing somewhere near the bathroom door, concerned for your wellbeing behind the closed doors.

Seconds later, the sound of heels could be heard as you exited the bathroom and turned off the lights. The sound neared Jobe as he was ready to turn to face you.

"Oh my God, you're sooo handsome."

Jobe's face warmed instantly. He turned around, ready to receive his compliment with a kiss to the cheek, only to realise that the compliment wasn't meant for him.

It was for Milo, who was picked up and showered with more kisses than Jobe could ever dream of.

Of course it was for Milo.

Jobe's thumb and forefinger met the inner corners of his eyes as he tried to make sense of this.

Men usually are worried about another man stealing their girl from them, but somehow God has decided to bless Jobe with a girl whose attention is sought after not by other men, but by a male cat that was doing a really good job at gaining it.

"You too, baby, even though you always look handsome to me with or without the suit." You winked before planting a quick peck on Jobe's lips, leaving behind a faint lipstick mark. You laughed as you tried to remove it with your hand.

Jobe's brain short-circuited at the compliment, and he felt his face become warm again, a reaction that somehow you were the only one able to pull out of him. His dimples deepened as he asked you to help him with his tie.

You silently worked on it while Jobe rested his big hands over your waist.

You smiled slyly.

"Sometimes I feel like you do this on purpose just to rest your hands on my waist."

He smiled even more.

"What can I say? I just can't resist touching you."

He kissed your forehead before returning to admiring your features while you tied his tie.

Jobe stole a quick glance at Milo to find him very bothered by the lack of attention, which made Jobe smirk.

Haha, take that, you little furball.

Milo : Jobe

2 : 1

Jobe got used to it by now.

How Milo would curl himself on your chest as you worked on your laptop. Or how he would butt-head you to ask for a cuddle.

He got used to Milo waking you up early to have breakfast. He even learned that Milo never leaves you when you go to the bathroom.

He also learned how Milo would trill when you were having a full conversation with him and how he would meow back at you to answer you, something he seemed to not know how to do when Jobe was trying to tell him to back off on your last birthday.

He learned how Milo gets worried about you when you're in pain and unable to move because of your cramps, how he would gently lick your forehead in encouragement.

He learned how you would have cuteness aggression that would result in aggressively playing with Milo, and how that would lead to love bites, which he understood later on were bites that were unharmful, and bunny kicks to your arm that was tackling him.

To be honest, Jobe would find these interactions kind of cute. He never had a pet of his own, and witnessing this between you and Milo made his heart soften.

Jobe learned so many things about you and Milo and tried to understand it as much as he could from the perspective of a non-pet owner, but he could never understand the idea of a cat being your son, until that day.

Jobe was finishing a meeting at the football club and was exiting the meeting room when he got a call from you.

He smiled the moment his eyes caught your name next to a red heart on his phone.

"Hey, babe. I am done with the meet—"

"Jobe," you interrupted him. A sniffle could be heard on the other end of the call.

He stopped halfway and tried to listen closely.

"Y/n, are you alright? What's wrong? Are you crying?"

He was worried now and could not hold back the questions that he needed an answer for.

"It's Milo."

You started crying fully now and explained how you found him coughing blood and rushed him immediately to the vet.

"I'm on my way. Just send me your location."

He hung up and ran over to his car.

When he made it to the vet, he was told that you were inside with Milo as he got checked up.

He entered to find you sitting in front of Milo, face facing him as tears made their way down your face.

"Hey."

You turned slowly to find Jobe making his way over to you. You got up and threw yourself into his arms as your cries intensified.

"Shhhh, it's okay. He's gonna be okay."

He ran his hand over your back as he looked at Milo behind you.

Poor thing was lying there helplessly, looking so weak that it made Jobe's heart sink.

This was not the playful Milo he was used to. Yes, maybe Milo did not stomach him, but he was always a bundle of joy and sunshine around you, and he could only imagine what this did to you.

"Tell me, what happened?" he asked, caressing your hair softly.

His heart sank even more when a pair of red eyes looked up to him.

"I don't know. He was fine one moment and then the other he was throwing up blood," you whimpered, on the verge of tears again.

Jobe wiped your tears as you closed your eyes, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. You couldn't imagine a world without Milo being in it.

Jobe held you closer, trying to get you to calm down.

The doctor had already set an IV through him to make him feel better while you sat there waiting on him.

You had managed to calm down a bit. Jobe had his arm around your shoulder as his other hand rested on your clasped hands.

"I had him when he was five months old," you said out of nowhere. "He had a sister."

Jobe could sense that this was painful for you and that whatever experience you went through with the other cat, you were not ready to go through it with Milo.

"Her name was Kira. She died at a really young age. Barely two years old."

Tears were starting to escape your eyes again. Jobe could only rub your back as he listened.

"It was terrible. We couldn't save her... I was devastated. Couldn't understand her absence... kept imagining her phantom in the corners she used to play in."

You paused, shook your head slightly.

"When I moved out, I took Milo with me. I was the closest one to him. I was the one who stayed up all night with him the day he arrived at our home, all afraid and worried. I was the one who let him smell my hand and get acquainted with me at his own pace, so he wouldn't have to feel so anxious on his first night."

Jobe looked at you closely, listening to every word you said.

You pulled away from him for a second to pull out your phone, then returned to his embrace.

You opened your phone and showed him your background without all the apps showing. All this time, Jobe thought it was a picture of Milo, but upon inspecting it closer, he found out that it was another cat with features that were very similar to those of Milo's, but they were softer, more feminine.

"This was Kira," you sobbed.

Jobe pulled your head to his chest.

"If a-anything happens to Milo, I won't be able to live," you cried, your voice breaking. "I-I can't handle losing another cat, Jo. I can't."

Jobe pulled you closer.

"He's going to be okay."

You shook your head against his chest, tears soaking into his shirt.

"I-I want him to grow old w-with me. He's only four years old, he's still a baby. He's my b-babyy."

Jobe caressed your head gently, trying to lull you to calm down.

"He's gonna be okay, I promise," he whispered, kissing your temple.

A few minutes had passed with you still being in Jobe's arms when a nurse came looking for you.

"Miss Y/n."

You pulled yourself from Jobe's embrace, already feeling like you might lose it again without his hug.

"A moment, please," she asked before exiting the room.

You got up but turned to Jobe before leaving.

"Stay with him... please?"

You pleaded with your eyes.

Jobe nodded right away, understanding that you didn't want Milo to be left alone.

You left the room while Jobe pulled his chair closer to Milo, who was looking peaceful in his sleep now that he was on meds.

"Hey, bud. I know we don't really understand each other that much," Jobe started talking, not really knowing if Milo could hear him or whether he could understand him in the first place, but he knew that Milo definitely understood you, so here goes nothing.

"I never really understood the bond you two have, but I've been trying to, and... it's no secret that you're quite an important part of Y/n's life."

Jobe sighed. However, Milo's ears slowly moving caught his attention.

He chuckled.

Of course he would react to hearing your name.

"And I need you to feel better, buddy, 'cause apparently I need your opinion on a lot of things, like maybe a... ring."

Jobe shrugged.

He didn't know what to say. He was really surprised by what came out of him.

Was he really going to ask your cat for permission now?

Jobe shook his head, chuckling, burying the thought at the back of his mind.

"Anyways, it doesn't matter now. All that matters is that you need to get better, for her."

Milo was very slowly regaining consciousness when he opened his caramel eyes to be met by Jobe. A quiet, tired meow was heard from him.

Jobe smiled softly and patted his head very gently.

You made it back to the room in a better mood. It seemed like you got good news.

Jobe looked at you, waiting for you to say something.

You smiled and sat again next to him.

"He's going to be okay. Apparently, the new food I got him has irritated his stomach, and he kept throwing up. While throwing up, he hurt his throat, thus the blood."

You sighed in relief.

Jobe stilled for a second, eyes blinking a few times.

Seriously, all this drama for a hurt throat?

He was definitely relieved that it was not something serious; however, it seemed to be something to be learned about cats as well. They will make you visit the vet thinking it's a critical condition when, in fact... it was nothing.

He sighed and pulled you into a hug.

The following day, you both decided to spend it at home to monitor Milo closely in case anything happened.

You were both sitting on the sofa, cuddling and watching a film when Milo decided to join the both of you.

Jobe was sure that he would make his way onto your lap and snuggle up to you, which would result in him sharing you with Milo again, but to his surprise, and yours as well, Milo made his way over your lap and into Jobe's before smelling Jobe, as if getting to know him more, and resting on his side on Jobe's lap.

You both stilled and looked at Milo as if something was definitely wrong.

There was no other explanation.

The matrix had malfunctioned because Milo never chooses Jobe. It's not even an option.

You smiled and squeaked in happiness, while Jobe was still trying to figure out how to deal with the fluff ball sitting in his lap.

"Oh my God, he likes you."

You smiled widely and kissed Jobe's cheek, then moved on to kiss Milo's head.

"Oh, baby, you like Jobe now," you spoke to him in that baby voice that drove Jobe nuts.

Milo trilled, answering your question in affirmation.

Jobe kept looking at Milo while Milo tossed and turned in his lap, trying to find a comfortable position, when he finally settled on laying on his back and exposing his belly to Jobe.

You gasped lightly.

"He's showing you his belly," you whispered as if you were in the presence of something holy.

Jobe raised an eyebrow and looked at you.

"Yeah... and?" he asked, not really knowing why this was a big deal.

"Are you kidding me?" You turned to look at him in disbelief. "This is a sign to show that he trusts you."

"Oh."

You nodded as Jobe started to realise the importance of this move.

"I would be careful if I were you, though," you advised.

Jobe turned his head to look at you again.

"He's very moody, so you don't know the outcome if you aim for the belly, so I would suggest a rub under the chin or a scratch on the head," you said, moving in closer to watch both of them interact.

Jobe turned to see Milo looking at him expectantly.

Choose wisely.

His eyes pierced with the statement loud and clear.

Jobe decided to go with the chin, which made Milo purr and relax even more into his lap, causing you to smile brightly.

Jobe chuckled, his heart doing this weird thing.

He didn't know that being this close to Milo would be so important to you, but he loved it.

He loved every second of it.

"Did you know that their purrs have healing powers?" you whispered while wrapping your arms around Jobe's biceps.

His attention was torn from Milo to you.

"Yeah?" he asked, whispering and looking into your eyes that seemed to have a smile of their own.

"Yeah," you whispered back.

Both of you closed in and kissed each other.

Milo had his eyes closed, but he was definitely not feeling those scratches under his chin, to which he meowed to gain Jobe's attention again.

Jobe laughed lightly and turned to focus on the task at hand.

Five months later, your phone was perched on the counter as Jobe fixed himself an orange juice while you were pouring milk over your cereal.

Your phone lit up with a message from your mum. Jobe looked over.

"Hey, babe, your mum is asking if we'll make it to Friday's dinner," he asked, eyes scanning your new lock screen.

It was of you, him, and Milo.

You were standing in front of a mirror. Jobe had Milo resting against his chest with his right hand while his left arm rested around your small frame, holding his phone up to snap the picture.

His eyes didn't miss the diamond ring resting elegantly on your left hand, which was holding Milo's paw as you two laughed at Milo's expression that was that of annoyance.

A perfect moment frozen in time.

"Yeah, can you tell her that we would be there on time?" you asked, putting the milk back in the fridge.

He opened your phone, scrolled past the apps that were resting on Kira's photo, which was still there, and opened your mum's chat to confirm your dinner together.

________

A/N: This is in honour of my cats. You will always have a special place in my heart, no matter what. ♥️

[almightaylor]

why is he so pocket-sized!!!

[nvtstvrns]

These clips all make me wanna cum

I love being a Matt girl

[hughesturn]

i could have boaf

[sturnmiller]

i feel like i’m the only person who thinks this.

i can’t like find matt…sexy. i just LOVE him. like his personality and who he is a person. like id rather have a deep conversation than have sex. like i wanna hug him.

chris?

fuck that. i’d be on my knees in fucking milliseconds

[vero01]

Was watching jude's series on yt and this part is so so so adorable

[rma-gifs]

[haal1nghamz]

Insane btw

[roofusdoof23]

let’s pout with mama 💗

[prettysturns]

ive been thinking about this allllll day he just looks so sexy 🧁