#Maybe he tries to give her the page back but she pushes it at him and there's a moment of agonizing eye contact between them

[theimpossiblescheme]

Staging concept: Ophelia carries around a book that she uses to press different flowers and plants. At one point we see her actually pressing one of the flowers Hamlet's given her before, and we get the impression that she wouldn't part with this book for the world. During the "Get thee to a nunnery" scene, Hamlet rips the book out of her hands, and she goes diving after it to make sure he didn't damage it. And during her final "mad scene", she starts tearing out the relevant pages (rosemary, pansies, fennel, columbines, etc.) to give to everyone present. Laertes is the only one to get the significance of his sister giving away parts of her prized possession, and it adds an extra layer to his grief.

[mostly-imagines]

Hi!! If you're up to it do you think you could write something about the first time Jason brings his gf to the manor. Like maybe he brings her in but doesn't tell anyone and so everyone is trying to sneak a glimpse of her??

meet the family

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason has a girlfriend???

warnings: none

The manor sits full as ever—a cloud of mild boredom sweeping over the Wayne clan.

Dick sits perched on top of an armchair reading a catalog, Stephanie’s splayed out across the couch, Cass is bundled up in blankets atop the ottoman, and Damian leans up against the center table from the floor.

It’s a relatively slow afternoon, until Tim comes bursting into the room, out of breath.

“There’s a girl here!”

Everybody looks at him, disinterest scattered across the room. “There’s a couple of ‘em.” Dick says, flipping through the pages of the magazine.

Tim huffs, “No! In Jason’s room—he has a girl in there!” Eyebrows shoot up at that.

“Now I know you’re lying.” Damian mutters.

Tims head snaps over to Damian. “Dude, go see for yourself. I heard her!”

“You really think Jason would bring a girl here and not even introduce us?” Steph asks, unconvinced.

“Yeah.”

“Yes.”

“Obviously.”

Cassandra nods fervently.

“Okay, yeah. Maybe.” Stephanie mutters. “I bet he’ll introduce me before any of you guys, though.”

Dick barks out a laugh, “You’re nothing short of delusional if you think he’s introducing any of us.”

“We’ll have to take matters into our own hands, then.” Tim says, decidedly.

Damian audibly sighs and rolls his eyes.

“I’m meeting her first.” Steph confirms. “I’ll put money down right now.”

“Meet her or see her?” Cass signs.

“Same thing.” Stephanie shrugs.

Dick shoots up from his seat, “First person to see her gets to be the ring bearer!” He announces, racing out of the room.

Knock knock knock knock knock…

Knock knock.

It takes a good forty seconds, but Jason opens the door, an annoyed frown already on his face.

Dick gives him his brightest smile. It beams of deceit in Jason's eyes. “Hey man. What’cha doing?”

He crosses his arms. “What do you want?”

Dick tries to peer around Jason into the room, but Jason made a point of barely opening the door and his large frame isn’t doing Dick any favors right now.

“Just wanted to say hey…You wanna hang out?”

“No.”

Dick lingers awkwardly. “…Are you sure?”

Jason shuts the door.

A couple minutes later, Tim comes running up the stairs. He opts to skip over the courtesy of knocking and go straight for barging through the door himself. Or he would’ve, if Jason hadn’t seen that coming from a mile away and locked it.

“Fuck off, Tim!” Jason calls from inside the room.

“You lost your right to privacy the second you walked in this house!” He shouts back, hitting his fist against the door.

And Tim swears he can hear a sweet laugh as he trudges away. The authenticity of that claim will be heavily debated downstairs for the next several minutes.

Not even a thirty seconds later, Stephanie comes a knockin’. Jason opens the door wordlessly, patience clearly dissipating more and more.

“Hey, Jason! I can’t find my comm, you wouldn’t happen to have it, would you?”

His face deadpans. “No, Steph.”

Stephanie clicks her tongue, “Can you check?”

He stares at her.

“Actually you’re right, it would be faster if I did.” Stephanie tries to push past him into the room, but Jason, unsurprisingly, doesn’t budge.

“Stephanie.”

“I just want to meet her!” She pleads. “I won’t even tell the others, I’ll just say you wouldn’t let me in either!”

“Bye.” He closes the door.

He doesn’t make it all the way back to the bed before the next knock, singular and short.

Jason snaps the door open again, looking down at Damian with a glare.

Never one to waste any time, “Is there a girl in here?” Damian asks, seeming thoroughly disinterested in the answer.

Jason shuts the door in his face.

Several minutes later, another, quieter knock. Jason’s groan can be heard from outside the room. He pulls open the door once again.

It’s Cass.

She stares at him.

He stares at her.

“Can I say hi to her?” She signs.

Jason sighs. “I’ll pass along the message.”

She smiles and turns back down the hall.

Jason closes and locks the door once again, trudging back over to the bed where you lay. He collapses onto your chest, your arms wrapping around each others bodies immediately.

“Cass says hi.” He mumbles, the sound obscured by his face-down position.

“That message would be a lot more meaningful if I actually knew Cass.”

He groans. “You don’t want to meet them.”

“I do.” You say, running your fingers through his hair. “And I think you do too, or you wouldn’t have brought me to the house where the world's best detectives live.”

“I’m starting to regret it now.”

“Come on. Please?” You plead.

He picks his head up to look at you.

“Are you sure?” He asks with a grimace.

“Absolutely.” You say, topping it off with a kiss on his cheek.

He sighs.

Well. It’s never been within Jason’s skill set to deny you, anyways.

You descend the stairs hand in hand with Jason, his energy mopier than usual. You can hear a gaggle of voices coming from a room ahead, all talking over one another.

“Okay, Tim, you climb up outside the window and—”

“—It’s your plan, you scale the side of the house.”

Jason drops his head and mutters a “Jesus Christ…” as you near the commotion.

You give him a reassuring smile and pat his back as you both move into the doorway.

Everyone’s heads snap to the doorway, eyes wide and waiting.

Jason takes a deep breath like he’s stealing himself for torture. “Guys…This is my girlfriend.”

“Hi.” You smile sweetly, waving to the room.

There’s a moment of still silence before the room erupts.

“Hold on—”

“—my god, she’s so pretty!”

“Oh wow—”

“Wait, what?”

”—You’re real?”

“—didn’t place that bet.”

Stephanie comes scurrying up to you and grabs both of your hands in hers. “Hi, I’m Steph!” She says with a beaming smile. “What’s your name?”

“I’m—”

But the others are right on her tail, crowding around you.

“We didn’t even know Jason had a girlfriend.” Tim says.

“Still not convinced.” Damian mumbles from the back.

Cass waves and signs something to you.

“She says we’re really happy to meet you, which we are.” Dick tells you.

Damian moves closer within the huddle and inspects you closely. You have no idea what he’s inspecting you for. You don’t need to dwell on it for long because Jason pushes his head away from you with mild force making Damian scowl.

“Did he bring you here to meet us? The others said—” Stephanie asks.

Jason cuts her off, already knowing exactly where that sentence was going. “I brought her here to show her my old room.”

Dick snickers, “Oh, is that what you were off doing?”

“Watch it.” Your boyfriend warns.

You nudge him with your elbow, be nice.

Tim moves closer to you, narrowing his eyes. “So you’ve like, spent time with him and everything? And you still want to be around him?”

“Okay and you’re done.” Jason takes your hand and leads you out of the room and back down the hallway.

“No wait!”

You’re already out of the room and into another and then another before you can even realize that you’re headed for the front door.

You stop in your tracks, pulling him to a halt as well. “What about—”

Jason shakes his head. “You don’t want to meet him.”

You lower your chin at him, “Jay. Do you want me to meet him?”

He’s silent and doesn’t look like he particularly does.

You sigh, “Okay, do you want him to meet me?”

“I—yeah…” he trails, and you give him your best sweet eyes, the ones that he knows he has no business saying no to. “I…okay. Okay.”

He leads you down another hallway, the sounds of his siblings clambering echoing in the distance. You end up in a room that looks like a never used study, where Jason pushes on one of the walls. It slides open with a bit of force from him, revealing a door with a keypad next to it.

He types a series of numbers into it, and opens it up to a narrow passageway that looks remarkably like a cave.

The passageway leads down to a set of stairs, and you can hear the loud sound of water in the distance.

You’re quite nervous about walking into the Batcave, but you know Jason wouldn’t bring you anywhere near it unless he was sure it would be okay. Okay for you that is, more so than his father.

“Careful. It’s slippery.” Jason holds your hand the whole way down anyway, making sure to linger no more than a step and a half in front of you.

You see Bruce Wayne, sitting at a desk with a large array of computer screens in front of it, and case files scattered all throughout the surface.

He doesn’t acknowledge your entrance, though you have to imagine if Jason got his observation skills from anywhere, it would be him.

As you approach, Jason switches your hands so that his right is holding your left. The result has his figure half covering you, you can only assume partially limiting Bruce’s view of you.

“Bruce.”

Bruce turns his chair around, regarding Jason with a raised chin. The greeting is somehow even more formal than you’d expected.

“Jason.” He readdresses his gaze to you. “Who’s this?”

Jason has a hell of a feeling that Bruce already knows exactly who you are. He’s probably known about you since you started dating. He would’ve had to, to not be pissed as hell that Jason brought a civilian into the cave.

Jason introduces you, his hand reluctantly letting go as you step forward to shake Bruce’s.

Bruce looks surprised, though pleasantly so. He smiles and shakes it kindly.

“It’s nice to finally meet you.” He says.

“You too, I’ve heard a lot about you.” You say, smiling.

He laughs, “Oh, I bet.” Looking to Jason, he says, “I can’t say I’ve had the same pleasure, unfortunately.”

Though Jason’s behind you now, you can practically feel him roll his eyes.

“No, I can’t imagine him sharing anything unprovoked.” Bruce smiles widely at that.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but Jason, who’s probably on the brink of losing his mind down here, interrupts.

“Alright. Time to go.” Jason says, grabbing your hand again. He doesn’t give you much time to protest before he’s guiding you by the waist past him and towards the stairs.

You let him nudge you out and call over your shoulder, “It was nice meeting you!”

He’s halfway up the stairs as you exit, only to be stopped by Bruce addressing him again.

“Jason.”

Jason stalls his steps, turning around slowly. You’re out of the cave now, and Jason’s not excited to be alone with his Dad for even a minute. It doesn’t help that he has no idea what he’ll say.

“She’s kind.” Bruce says, simply.

“Yes.”

He tilts his head at Jason, observing him. “You love her?”

Jason looks at the ground. “Yes.”

Bruce nods. “Good.”

He returns to his work at the computers wordlessly, and Jason has to take a moment to realign himself before he climbs the rest of the stairs.

Jason doesn’t particularly seek his fathers approval, nor does he place any definable value on it. However, hearing him give his own version of his blessing to you struck something inside Jason. Something deep in his chest.

He re-enters the study, finding it empty. He walks out into the hallway, where you’re nowhere to be found. Despite being halfway across the house by this point, he can distinctly hear his siblings chattering in the living room. Chattering. And chattering. And chattering…

Oh god, you went back to the living room.

As Jason approaches the conversation becomes clearer.

“—long have you been together, anyways?”

“Well—”

Stephanie gasps suddenly, cutting you off. “Oh wait, you have to meet Alfred!”

“Oh, we’ve already met.” You tell her.

Dick’s head snaps up. “What? When?”

Jason enters the room, draping his arm around your shoulder. “About six months before you met her.”

A chorus of gasps and shouts ring out.

“What?”

[verstappen-cult]

Hi!! First of all i love your fics🩷

I saw you were asking for petitions about lestappen so how about a meet cute between lestappen and an anonymous reader? Like she’s not famous or the child of anyone famous, she’s just a fan of F1 and they meet in like a library or something like that, maybe even the paddock? I don’t know if this makes any sense, probably not.

“Max, for the hundredth time I swear to God we are in a school book.” Charles walks into the library as Max rolls his eyes, trying to understand why is that so important.

“And that’s relevant because…” He was just trying to buy some groceries and bumped into Charles, who was very excited and dragged him out of there even before he could pay for his food. And he can’t say no to Charlie, so.

“That makes us literally legends,” He says, peering into every bookshelf for the correct one. “kids are learning about racing and us. At school.”

“Yea’ that’s actually pretty cool.”

“Oh.” Charles suddenly stops walking, making Max stop in his tracks, bumping into him.

When Max looks up, he’s met with the prettiest girl he’s laid eyes upon. She has a few books in her arms, and is trying to grab one that is on the top shelf.

“Do you need any help?” Charles takes a step closer and then, she’s facing them. She’s silent for a couple of seconds, looking between the two of them.

Next thing they know, she’s smiling brightly at them. “Yes, please. I just need that one.” She points to a black and red one.

Charles tries to grab the book but it’s a little out of his reach. Max tries to hide a smile behind his hands, and doesn’t say anything when the boy turns around, silently asking him for help.

“That’s actually the book we were looking for.”

“You can have it.” The girl pushes the book against Charles’ chest, but he just gives it back.

“You probably need it for school or something.” Max says, giving her his best smile. “We were just trying to see ourselves in that book.”

She raises her eyebrows, immediately opening the book and looking for the picture. “Oh, that’s why you looked so familiar!” She exclaims, turning the book around to show them the page.

And Charles was right, there is a picture of both of them alongside Checo on the podium in Las Vegas last year. There’s a paragraph talking about what is Formula One and who are they.

Yeah, it’s pretty cool.

“So,” Charles says, cheeks burning red. “Do you need it for school? Are you like in senior year or something like that?” Max laughs because he can’t help it. He has never seen him flirting before.

“No, my nephew needs it. I’m just helping.” She then proceeds to introduce herself, saying her name and waving. Max and Charles find it so cute, they seem to have fallen for her charm. And they just met her.

“It’s your nephew a Formula One fan?”

“Actually,” The beautiful girl pulls her phone out of her bag, showing them her lockscreen. She’s there next to a boy in a kart. “He’s into karting and is gonna be so jealous when I tell him I met you two.”

“Well,” Max tries to sound nonchalant but he’s so nervous. He just hopes she doesn’t notice, or Charles because he’s gonna make fun of him for the rest of their lives. “We would be very happy to meet him.”

“Oh my God, seriously? He’ll be so happy if you come to one of his races. He will lose his mind.”

“I was actually talking about Facetime.” Max hates himself when he sees her face falls, but forgets about it the second she’s blushing.

“Just ignore him. Max is nervous because you’re so pretty and he doesn’t know how to talk with pretty girls.” Max wants to punch him in the face. “And you’re like very pretty.”

“You get nervous around pretty girls too, Charles?”

If looks could kill…

The pretty girl giggles, and they turn to look at her so fast their necks start to hurt. “Why don’t you come to the race this weekend and you can see if I get nervous around pretty boys too?”

[pomegranateandblood]

The Jacket (part 1/2)

Summary: Alive!reader gets assigned a new locker, finds Wally‘s letterman jacket and decides to keep it

Includes: Wally Clark x reader, smut

A/N: I just love Wally & Rhonda‘s friendship

"This is not what I meant when I asked for a new locker."  You said, scrunching your nose in disgust.

„Yeah, it's like they haven't cleaned it in decades" Your friend dusted her hands off.

A comical cloud of dust came out of the locker, when you finally managed to open the jammed metal door. Coughing, you stepped back.

Meanwhile, unbeknown to you, two students were watching. Dead Students to be exact.

„Hey, isn't that your locker, hot stuff?" Rhonda pointed her lollipop towards the situation.

The footballer turned and nearly tripped, running over to you.

„Stop panicking, it's not like you could do anything about it anyway." The brunette rolled her eyes and started following him.

„They promised my my mum they wouldn't give my locker away and now I see some-„ Wally tried to find the right words, holding onto Rhondas arm.

She raised a brow at him „Hot cheerleaders taking over your locker ?"

„I'm serious! All the stuff I have on me is in there, what if they throw it away?" He said, watching you hold up his letterman jacket.

„You're right, they really havent cleaned this in ages." You looked at your friend.

She reached inside, pulling out a blue and white jacket. You took it from her and held it up. „It's cute don't you think? Kinda vintage."

„Oh my god. look." She pointed at the stitching at the right top. ‚Wally' it read in white italic letters. You looked at her. „You think it belonged to the stadium guy?"

„Possible? I mean there's other stuff in there. Maybe he wants it back." Your friend crossed her arms. „We could go to the library at lunch and look into the yearbooks to find out."

The bell rang, interrupting your little locker investigation.

„Sounds like a plan." You said, before walking to class.

—

Wally anticipated lunch break and already waited in the yearbook section, when Rhonda suddenly appeared next to him.

„What are you doing here? Aren't you busy catching gossip in the teachers lounge ?" he asked, cocking a brow at her in question.

She smirked. „I love gossip, but seeing your big star student slash jock ego getting crushed by two human girls is even more entertaining to me"

Wally mocked her smirk and rolled his eyes. He was about to reply when he heard you and your friend entering the aisle.

„1981, 1982- ah here Yearbook of 1983. The trophy cabinet has a table with all, the state champion teams and his name was listed in that year."

Rhonda leaned her head on Wally‘s shoulder, or at least as far as she could with their height difference. „Oh superstar, even state champion? Aww, if I wasn't dead I'd feel sorry."

„Fuck you, Rhonda."  Wally scoffed, trying to concentrate on you skipping through the yearbook pages.

„Sorry I'm not into footballers, sweetheart." She sucked on her lollipop again, leaning against the shelf.

Wally took a deep breath. He was a nice guy, really and he liked Rhonda, but sometimes her attitude just got to him.

„Maybe, footballer dick is just what you need to get over your brooding and depressed mood."

Rhonda laughed. „ Ew." She pushed his shoulder.

„Turn to the exceptional students pages." Your friend said and flipped through the book.

There it was, a full double page.

In loving memory of Wally Clark stood under his picture. Fluffy black hair, chocolate brown eyes and charming smile, wearing the exact same jacket you found in your locker today.

„He's dead?" It sounded more like a questioin than a statement coming out of your mouth.

„Sad, he's sexy." You friend stated.

Rhonda nearly choked on her lollipop and Wally swallowed, before a smirk crept upon his lips.

„She did not just say that?" The shorter ghost crossed her arms.

„He is." You agreed before nudging your friend.

„You think he was a fuckboy ?" She laughed and you joined in. Taking the book from you she read the different things written about him.

„Look, this cheerleader wrote ‚He loved eating jelly filled donuts' Oh I'm sure he did" She wiggled her eyebrows.

„Well if I was born back then, I wouldn't mind him tasting my jelly filled donut." you said giggling.

After chattinf some more, the two of you put the book back and left, still giggling about the handsome footballer.

Wally's face burnt bright red and he felt like his cheeks were on fire. He knew that girls had found him cute back when he was alive, but he never heard girls talk about him like that.

„Congratulations stud, now you're a teenage girls' wet dream in two centuries." Rhonda joked and patted his shoulder.

„What do you mean ?" Wally asked nervously.

Of course he had sex before and he did like it rough, but he was in a relationship before he died and even now he only had one partner to relief his teenage hormones. Wally never wanted to use someone for their body, but this ‚trapped in the school as a ghost’ situation didn't really allow any relationships.

„What I mean is, that girls are or were obsessed with you. When you came to this school I couldn't go anywhere without the female students talk about ‚tall and sexy' you are and how hot you look during football practice."  She made a disgusted face and Wally looked at her in shock.

„Oh and don't we forgot about your girlfriend back then. She was very descriptive to her friends about your dick and how exactly you used it to bring her to the edge."

Wally now leaned against the shelves, trying not to freak out.

„But that was long ago, most of the ghosts here died after me." He said, trying to make himself feel better.

„I don't know why you're freaking out so much? I should be freaking out. Of disgust." She tried to calm him.

„You're right. I just thought- I can't believe I was so naiive." he said, looking down.

„Hey Wally, you're a nice guy." she said, making him smile. „Still entitled tho."

He laughed and rolled his eyes.

—

A few days later you were able togive Wally's mother the stuff you found in his locker. She seemed like a nice woman and you felt a little emotional at how grateful she was.

Especially because you decided to keep the letterman jacket. You gave it to the dry cleaners and basically lived in it ever since picking it up. It was slightly oversized on you but extremly comfortable.

But there was also something different since you wore it. You felt... watched. Just like today, when you got dressed after swimming club.

After leaving the shower, you put a towel over the bench to sit down. You took little longer than usual and had the changing room to yourself.

Suddenly, it's like something tickled over your back, down to your hips. A pleasant sensation. You shivered, reaching for the jacket to cover yourself.

You called out for someone. But you really were alone. Your friend had joked earlier  that Wally Clarks ghost would come for you, because you didn't give back his jacket. Luckily you didn't believe in ghosts and when you sat down on the bench, yet another thought invaded your mind.

You leaned back and opened your legs slightly. Wouldn't be the first time someone touched themselves in the locker rooms. The boys did it all the time after practice.

Your fingers travelled from your navel down to your already wet heat. Exploring your folds, before finding your clit, you closed your eyes. Wally Clark appeared behind your lids. He kneeled between your legs, strong hands holding your hips.

He kissed the creamy skin of your thighs upwards, the dreamiest of chocolate brown bedroom eyes looking up at you. He licked his plump lips before speaking against your folds, the vibration making you hiss out.

„Quite the unusual offer. Letting me eat you out so I'd forgive you for stealing." his tongue lapped up the wetness of your folds and one of his hands found your breasts, kneading them softly before pinching the nipple. One after one.

„Wally, please." You moaned and circled your clit faster. The feeling of being watched heightened your pleasure from the fantasy.

He sucked on your clit and his other hand also left your hip. Two of his fingers pushed inside you, pumping. „Mmmh" he moaned against your sensitive spot. You shivered and moaned his name again and again.

Goosebumps spread over your skin and you were sure his fingers would feel even better than your own. Shifting slightly on the bench, you were sure the towel underneath you was already soaked. The tight coil in your lower abdomen let you know you were close.

„If you weren't already late I'd edge you. Looking so pretty spread out for me on the bench." His fingers curled up and he switched between sucking and licking at your centre.

You came, biting down on your lower lip, so you wouldn't be heard in the nearby hallway. Opening your eyes, you adjusted to reality again and pulled his jacket together in front of your chest. You felt sick, pleasuring yourself to a dead boy. You decided to sit for a bit before redressing and drying your hair.

Wally still kneeled in between your legs. His lips glistened with your juices and he laughed „So much better than a jelly donut"

Licking his fingers clean, he tried to calm his nerves. His hard cock strained against the grey sweatpants, so he sat up and adjusted himself. He really tried holding back, knowing what he did was technically a grey zone of consent, but seeing you spread out on the bench, naked and wearing his jacket, he just couldn't not help you out. Also, you did say you wouldn't mind a few days ago.

He just wished you could see him. It made him dream on his own, about you two. Maybe on the bleachers or in the teachers lounge. Wally really liked the couch in the teachers lounge.

He watched you get dressed and waited for you to leave so he could take care of himself.

—

The thoughts of Wally haunted you throughout the next few weeks. Maybe his ghost did haunt you. So you decided to help the homecoming committee decorate the school with posters and decoration up until the late night to take your mind off it.

You fell asleep in the Gym. Waking up in the middle of the night on the hard floor you sighed. You were about to collect your stuff and leave when you heard a moan. Looking up, your jaw nearly dropped to the Floor.

Wally sat upon a gym mat, the ghost of a cheerleader who died in the 90s after dropping from a pyramid sat in his lap.

There was an obvious tent in his grey sweatpants. Her cheer skirt was tucked into the seam revealing her bare pussy with two of Wally's fingers knuckle deep inside. There was a wet spot on his crotch and the squishy noise of his fingers pumping at a fast pace hollowed in the gym.

Her moans were swallowed by his lips, hungrily devouring her mouth.

You squeezed your thighs together at the sight. Envious of the girl. Wally pushed a third finger inside, keeping the rough pace. The blonde girl reached down to rub her clit, but Wally slapped her hand away.

He pulled away from her, biting her bottom lip.

„You only get to do that when my cock has been inside of you."

Your head fell back against the wall. God, you must be really going crazy. Hallucinating or dreaming, but you couldn't tear your eyes away.

The blonde pouted. „M'sorry Wally."

He helped her climb off his lap before he stood up on the mat. She was already getting on all fours with spread knees. Meanwhile Wally pulled his sweatpants down, revealing his impressive girth. Getting on one knee behind her, he pumped himself with his head thrown back, before guiding himself inside her.

He started with slow thrusts, obviously not doing this for the first time. The blonde under him closed her eyes, mouth agape in pleasure.

Wally picked up the speed while kneading her asscheeks. Your eyes widened when he spread them, letting a string of his spit drip onto her other hole. He massaged it with his thumb and the blonde responded with screaming his name „Please, Wally. Please Please Please." she writhted under his touch as he pressed down with his thumb.

Your -or more his jacket felt too hot all of a sudden and you felt your hardened nipples against the fabric of your bra. Pressing your thighs together you tried to get some relief.

The blonde bit her lip to silence her pleas buz Wally slapped her cheek „No. No. No. Baby. I wanna hear you. Let them hear you." His hand went back to her ass.

„You can pleasure yourself now." he instructed and her fingers immediately found her clit, circling roughly.

After her first orgasm, he pulled out. His dick dripping with her juices, the head angry and red. Wally helped her turn on her back, legs draped over his shoulders, guiding just the tip inside.

She whimpered. „Please come on my tits, Wally. I want to taste you."

You bit your lip at her voice, full of need and desire.

He smirked and started jerking above her chest. Her hand joined him as he put his abover hers, guiding her how he liked it.

He groaned her name as he came. Thick spurts of his glassy cum decorating her rosy nipples, up to her chin, which she greedily licked up.

She started licking him clean. „Thank you, Wally. Mmmh." He pushed her head down further, and looked up.

You stared at him wide eyed as you made eye contact with him. At first his gaze looked dazed from pleasure, but then he thought you could see him.

But that wouldn't be possible would it? Humans can't see ghosts.

Wally tucked himself away and helped his companion fix herself, but when he turned around you were gone.

He was definitely going to seek you out tomorrow.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed, let me know in the comments & leave me some love 💕

[asonofpeter]

Insanity

Pairing: Jaime Reyes x F!Reader

Summary: Your lack of sleep makes it seem like you're going insane, then again, your boyfriend has an alien inside of him...maybe insanity makes sense.

Warnings: reader has emotional distress, description of skin and flesh? mentions of sleep deprivation and male genitals, SPOILERS FOR BLUE BEETLE! there's also some light SMUT but it will be labeled by 🦋 so you can skip if you want and must be 18+ to read!

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Second part? Umm hell yeah! I gotta go see this movie again cause I wanna see Jaime wink wink. Thank you for all of those who reblogged the last part! If the smut confuses you, be aware that I'm a whore and my page mainly consists of smut. Please make sure you're 18+ when reading and enjoy! 💕💕💕

I don't consent to my work being copied, reposted, or translated.

“Where could he have possibly gone?!” you ran your fingers over your hair, tears streaming down your face as Miliagro tried to comfort you. “What the hell was that thing?” you shook your head, dumbfounded.

You had been standing, staring up at the hole in the ceiling for the last few minutes, completely dumbfounded that your boyfriend was somewhere up there. You were in hysterics compared to the rest of the family.

“Amá is calling the police, I’m sure we’ll find him,” she rubbed your shoulder, tears streaming down her face too.

A few moments later, your heart rate spiked up the moment a loud crash was heard in the dining room, the already collapsed table now housing your fainted boyfriend who was completely naked.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, hand over your mouth as you ran over to aid him but he awoke abruptly, incoherent words escaping his lips. About to stop him from moving to prevent any injury, you felt your face heat up when he stood up.

“His huevitos!” Rudy shouted, the rest of the family’s breaths hitching before Rocio and Nana started reminiscing about Jaime’s childhood. 

You stepped forward, trying to give Jaime some concealment but he pushed passed you, entirely dazed until he crashed on the couch.

“Ten, tapaló,” Rocio handed you a blanket and you quickly covered him. That’s when you all realized what was on his back. 

“That is the grossest thing I’ve ever seen,” Millie gagged beside you and you frowned at the sight of the bug fused into his back.

~

You sat at Jaime’s head on the couch, Nana waving the vapor rub in front of his nose. You combed your fingers through his hair, the smell, and your touch slowly coaxing him awake. 

His eyes opened, body jolting in shock to see all of you sitting around him. “Where?” his brows were furrowed and he stared down at himself, realization growing on him and being confirmed by a peek under the blanket. “Oh god,” he gaped, shooting up from the couch and keeping the blanket wrapped around him.

“Jaime, wait,” everyone called out, following him but he shrugged everyone off, going into his room.

“Follow him and tell him,” Millie pushed you forward and you got the message as you managed to slide into his room before he slammed the door shut.

“Jaime,” you called out, a smile forming on your face when you saw his bare ass, unable to help yourself. “You need to know something,” you wrung your fingers together, staring at the glowing blue fusion on his back. 

“Hang on, Y/N, I can explain everything. It’s all fine, this is all normal,” he struggled to put clothes on, mainly muttering to himself. “It’s all good,” he laughed, shirt in his hand as he walked over to you, a humorless laugh escaping him as he grabbed your shoulders. “I missed you,” he inhaled before leaning in and kissing you.

You were taken aback by the sudden gesture, but welcomed it nonetheless when you recalled how worried you’ve been about him. 

“Jaime,” you said when he pulled away, licking your lips as you opened your mouth to continue. “Look in the mirror,” you exhaled just as he pulled his shirt over his head.

He paused, doing as you said, his eyes widening when he got a look before a scream left his mouth.

“Just breathe, okay?” you hurried towards him before he panicked even more. “We’re gonna find a way to fix this, okay?” you grabbed his shoulders and he seemed to calm down a bit before you engulfed him in a hug.

“We’re gonna fix it,” he repeated, arms slowly wrapping around you. “I need to find Jenny”.

~

“That’s Cesar to you!” Rudy shouted at Jenny after she became the reason the Taco was ruined. 

You were all sat around the table after Jaime had driven off to go find Jenny to explain everything. You weren’t too pleased he left so suddenly, worry still raking through you from the day’s earlier event. You kept your anger under wraps, thankful to Rudy for laying it on them. 

A few moments later after hearing Rudy cry about the damage done to his truck, he came back in, fury still bubbling in his words. 

“I can’t believe you did that to my truck, after everything,” he cried. “This is all your fault,” he pointed at Jenny. “First, you put a bug inside my nephew and now my truck?!” he screamed, shaking his head.

“Wait, what’s he talking about?” Jenny darted her gaze around the table and Jaime sighed. 

“He means this,” he said, turning around and pulling his shirt over his head so she could see the blue and purple bug glowing along his spine, his flesh pink in the areas it fused to the creature.

“Oh my god,” the family shouted, Milagro gaging at the sight. You on the other hand had grown a quick immunity to the sight, your face straight as you stared at it.

“I’ve seen worse,” you and Rudy said at the same time and you shared a glance for a second before Millie butted in.

“Where?” she furrowed her brows. 

“You don’t want to know,” you said at the same time again, your gaze narrowing at him.

“What the hell is this thing?” Jaime pulled his shirt back down, leaning over the table between you and Jenny.

“It’s a scarab, given to my dad when I was a kid. It’s some type of world-destroying weapon,”  she shrugged, the sight of defeat written across her face aware that this news was not one taken well by the family.

“Great,” Jaime inhaled deeply, hands running through his hair as he walked into the kitchen.

“So did you know this was going to happen when you handed it to my brother?” Millie asked, shooting daggers at Jenny. 

“No! I swear I didn’t. The scarab isn’t activated by any person, it chooses you,” Jenny elaborated. “So that means it chose you,” she turned to Jaime, a look of disbelief on his face.

You were sitting silently beside everyone, arms crossed over your chest as you took in the information you were given. Emotions trickled through you, you were sure you’d experienced all of them at least once today, but hearing the words come out of her mouth, you couldn’t help but crack your stoic face and double over in laughter.

“That is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard, you’re joking,” you managed between laughs, the family sparing glances at each other and Jaime placed a hand on your shoulder to check on you.

“Ignore her, she hasn’t slept since yesterday. Night shift,” Millie excused you.

“Are you sure she didn’t get the alien inside her? Seems like she’s going insane,” Rudy butted in, twirling his finger by his temple to say “cookoo”. 

“Ay, Rudy,” Rocio waved him off. “As you can see she’s a little out of it from the lack of sleep”.

At her statement, the laughing stopped and you straightened up, composing yourself with a clearing of your throat.

“I’m not out of it,” you defended. You were sure you slept a good hour this morning. “I’m just finding it a little hard to believe that there’s an alien inside my boyfriend’s body, bonding to him as we speak,” you exhaled. “It’s insane!”

“It’s okay,” Jaime reassured, his other hand coming up to massage your shoulder. “You said it chose me, so how do we make it unchose me?” he asked, turning back to Jenny who had a look of softness cross over her eyes as she stared at you two.

“I’m not sure. But if I can get access to the proper technology, we can figure out a way,” she claimed. “I just need a key. It’s located at Kord Industries though,” she said, face falling. 

“I have a way in,” Rudy said. “Come on, cabezon, we’re gonna get that thing outta you,” he pointed. 

“Okay, Jenny, Rudy, and I will go. You guys stay here,” Jaime said, mainly looking at you.

“Are you crazy? I’m going with you,” you shook your head, standing up to meet him.

“Y/N, you haven’t slept since yesterday. You should sleep,” he cupped your face.

“I’m not tired,” you pulled away from him. “You’re insane if you think I’m letting you go out on this without me,” you argued. “I don’t want to miss this,” you frowned. “You have god-knows-what inside you, I should be there,” you reaffirmed, glancing at the floor.

“She’s right, mijo,” Alberto sided with you and Jaime let out a defeated sigh. 

“Okay, let’s go,” he agreed.

~

The former Kord Estate was a magnificent abandoned haven. The secret passageway entering Jenny’s dad’s lab was insane and other-worldly. Nothing about this day made sense and you only hoped there was a cure so you could get on with your lives. 

After Jaime decided a better fit of clothes would be preferred, you followed him and Jenny upstairs. You were both shown into an empty bedroom, presumably a spare one seeing as it had no personal touches added to it. 

You were staring out the window while Jaime was in the bathroom when Jenny came back with a blue tracksuit be she left, a kind smile on her face as she departed. The door shut behind her as Jaime walked from the bathroom.

“I have accelerated healing,” he brushed his fingers over his cheek and you sent him a puzzled look. “Look,” he walked closer to you to show you his perfectly unbroken skin that was red and cut only a few moments ago.

“Hmm,” you hummed. “This is still too insane to believe,” you pressed a hand to your forehead, shaking out a laugh and your boyfriend smiled before pulling you in for a hug. “Does it hurt?” you asked, referring to the scarab.

“Not really,” he shrugged before he pulled off the muscle tee, leaving him shirtless in front of you. “It looks bad, but to be honest, it feels,” he paused for a second. “Normal”.

“That’s something then,” you wrung your fingers together, trying to sound as supportive as you could.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay, alright? We’re going to get it out of me,” he rubbed your arms reassuringly and you sighed. “I love you, you know that?” he rubbed his thumb along your cheek and you nodded. 

“I love you too,” you recited. “It’s weird,” you added, glancing around the room. “The silence,” you tilted your head, able to hear nothing. “I’m now realizing I haven’t had a moment alone with you since you got back,” you chewed on your lip, cheeks heating up.

“I mean, we’re alone right now,” he suggested, a knowing look washing over his face.

“I want to savor it,” you nodded, staring into his beautiful brown eyes.

“You can do whatever you want, mi amor,” he traced patterns on your hip with his thumb. 

“I really do need the distraction,” you licked your lips, gaze falling to his lips. 

“Same here,” he swallowed. 

“I think we have time,” you added, hands coming up to wrap around his neck softly. 

“We definitely do,” he agreed, one of his hands sliding underneath your shirt. 

🦋

With that, you both leaned in, pressing your lips together in a soft gentle kiss, one filled with desperation but screamed all the reassurance you both needed.

You ran your fingers through his hair, his hand squeezing your hip as he pulled you closer.

Living with five other people in a small house wasn’t as fun as it usually was. You shared a room with your boyfriend’s sister, your boyfriend was in another city for four years previously, and now that he was back, your schedules never coincided with your night shift. To keep things quick, you and your boyfriend rarely have sex.

His hands ran over your back, one hand finding its place on your waist while the other snaked up to cup your jaw. Your moans vibrated against each other as you pressed your bodies together, closer than before.

You pulled away, guiding Jaime to sit on the closest chair before you straddled his lap. Your kiss resumed as his hands glided over your ass and under your thighs while you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging on his curls. 

He made a move to take off your shirt and you followed through, leaving you in your bra until you got up quickly to shimmy your sweatpants off. 

“Fuck,” Jaime threw his head against the chair, frustration laced in his tone. 

“What?” you frowned, pausing in your movements. “Did you?” you led on, gaze dropping to his crotch. “It’s okay if-,” you shrugged, disappointment in your voice but his eyes shot open. 

“No! Not that,” his cheeks tinted with pink. “We don’t have a condom,” he explained, and you tilted your head up in realization. 

“Oh,” you said. “Well shit,” you exhaled. “So much for a distraction,” you bent down to pull your pants back up before you sat back in his lap, head resting against his shoulder. 

“Soon, baby, soon,” he mumbled into your hair as he placed a kiss.

🦋

You smiled, reaching up for a kiss before a knock on the door was interrupted. 

“It’s Rudy, I’m not coming in cause of last time, but we need y’all downstairs,” he shouted through the door and you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up at the thought of last time.

“We should go,” Jaime said once you heard Rudy’s steps fade away. 

You agreed, getting up to move and letting him change before you opened the door. Your boyfriend stopped you though, hand wrapped around your wrist, you glanced at him expectedly.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he said and you grinned.

“Me too”. 

~

Reblogs are the best!

[lazyjellyfish300]

In Between the Bookshelves📚

AU Librarian!Miguel O'Hara x Fem grad student reader

(image isn't mine, found it on Instagram under the account @/ brokenohara and asked for their permission to post it)

Synopsis: a normal trip to the library results in a little bit more than you were expecting when you meet the new librarian on duty. Word count 4.6k

A/N: reposting this new and hopefully improved version of one of my very first Miguel fics I deleted a while back. I tried to make him more awkward and cute🖤🤓. Still not totally confident in the smut but oh well. Writing smut is so hard sometimes? Or maybe my skills have gone down, idk 😫 Hope you enjoy...

TW: MINORS DNI, SMUT TOWARDS THE END: FINGERING, ORAL SEX F receiving, Gag(he uses his shirt to muffle your moans) Public sexual activity, talk of anxiety, mention of family troubles and anti-deity/religion language

It's 7:00 pm on a rainy Tuesday night in the middle of October. You just got out of your evening Database Systems class. You can't help but feel poetic as you stroll down the grey, soaked, Manhattan streets twirling your umbrella, hot coffee in a cardboard cup in hand. Your shoulders begin to ache from the thin faux leather straps of your backpack. You're wearing your favorite brown sweater over a short sleeved black dress that hits you mid-thigh, with some holey black tights and your favorite knock-off Doc Martens. Damn, I still need to write that 2 page paper that's due tomorrow..

You decide at the last minute to spend your night at the library. You know you won't get anything done if you go back to your apartment. You spin on your heel and pick up the pace as you head hastily towards the NYIT library in Manhattan.

The library is pretty dead except for a group of three people sitting together in the middle table talking in hushed voices, one woman sitting on the floor scrolling with a laptop, and one jock looking fellow sitting at the computers, cracking his knuckles and bouncing his knee anxiously as he scans his assignment he's typing.

You sit down at the empty table right next to the librarian's desk. Since you're a regular here you recognize Polly, the librarian on duty who is a plump woman who looks to be in her 30s with short curly brown hair, wearing a mustard yellow cardigan and brown corduroy pants tonight. She's stapling papers together and gives you a small nod in acknowledgement as you sit down at the table in front of her desk.

She whispers to you, "I'm actually heading out for the evening, but the new person on duty should be here any minute now if you need any assistance."

You nod, and, speak of the devil, here he comes. You suddenly feel your chest get hot when you lay your eyes on the new librarian.

Tall, dark, and handsome would be the simplest way to define this man's appearance, but that would be a very feeble attempt at doing him justice. Sculpted bicep muscles push against the sleeves of his flannel with the cuffs rolled up halfway on his thick forearms. The flannel is unbuttoned and flaps gently away from his body as he walks, a white t-shirt underneath. He has broad, wide, shoulders and a narrow waist. He's also wearing dark wash athletic jeans and a pair of canvas slip ons. His hair has one stubborn strand in front from his small widow's peak that falls endearingly in the middle of his forehead. His most disarming quality is his eyes. A shade of brown that's earthy and natural like the sediment that decorates stream beds. He wears a stoic expression under large framed glasses.

He nods and mutters a "thank you" to the woman librarian as she shimmies into her coat and leaves. His eyes notice you and latch onto you momentarily. You feel your cheeks grow warm and you turn back to your laptop, unable to resume where you left off, wanting to start a conversation with him but not sure how. After a few painful moments of silence, and a quiet rumble outside from the ongoing rainstorm, you decide to break the ice by telling him your name. He blinks as you tell it to him, and you continue trying to make small talk to try and prod more out of him.

"Have I seen you here before? I come here a lot and I don't think I've met you yet."

"Miguel O'Hara," he answers shortly, but politely. "I'm a grad student. I started working for the university in exchange for assistance with my tuition."

You nod, feeling the heat leave your cheeks a little bit as you realize you could have a normal conversation with this man, and not just be an awkward mess around him the entire time. When he mentions he's a student, you realize you have something in common with him and try to go from there.

"These mid-terms are going to be the death of me. I have just one more paper to turn in then I can finally breathe, thank God..."

Miguel blows a short puff of air out of his nose seemingly in agreement, but doesn't say anything else.

He's quiet. Truth is you are too, and you're stepping way more out of your comfort zone than you normally would. Amazing what a pair of charming brown eyes could do to you.

"Honestly, if I had to work anywhere on campus I'd pick the library too. Seems peaceful with minimal people around, and everyone's required to be quiet by default. The ultimate dream workplace."

Miguel can't figure out why this stranger keeps talking to him, but you brought up a point he feels he needs to clarify.

"Oh, you'd be surprised. Most people that come in here are loud and inconsiderate as hell. And there's always that one person who hasn't heard of shocking headphones. Always."

The corner of your mouth raises. "God, that would drive me insane. Being a librarian isn't all it's cracked up to be, huh?"

Miguel shakes his head. "No. More like a glorified adult babysitter who knows where the historical fiction section and restrooms are located, and that's about it. That's literally the only two questions I get asked all day." He turns to look at you more fully, this conversation a slight breath of fresh air, the first chance he's gotten in a while to air out his grievances as the night librarian.

He continues, complaining about the horny couples he's had the misfortune of overhearing get busy on the beanbags in the far corner, and the people who leave random drinks and empty chips bags on the shelves and seem to have forgotten what alphabetical order means when they put books back.

You listen to all of it, nodding your head, and let out a cackle at his expressions he's making with those defined, bushy brows of his. He talks with his hands and it's a little endearing to watch him be so animated. This expressive side you've managed to crack through beneath his solemn exterior.

Miguel feels warmth rise in his body at the sound of your laugh for the first time. It's genuine and hearty, and honestly it's funnier than whatever bad quip he just made and he can't help but feel a little more attracted to you after hearing it. You were a good listener, and he appreciated that a lot about you.

You glance at the windows across the room, nodding in its direction with a remark about the weather, how rainstorms are your favorite. He tells you he loves them as well.

Soon, the others have shifted out of the library and he's now sitting in the chair across from you leaning his chin in his hand, listening to you speak as the rain gently pelts the windows outside.

He finds out you're originally from a smaller town, and you came to New York City for college and to escape your overbearing parents. You're 26 years old and trying to finish this Master's degree after taking one too many semesters off. You tell him about your mom who's a bit of a pushover, and your dad who's kind of an asshole.

He tells you he's 29 and has a younger brother who lives on the other side of the city, and his mom is similar to yours. She's kind but tends to set herself on fire to keep her kids warm. Like you, his dad is also a bit of an ass.

You're both introverted, but you can fake it when you need to, which he appreciates, otherwise he never would have been brave enough to say something to you this evening.

You two share a love of education and coffee. You discuss religion.

"I just don't get it, I'm supposed to love this guy and accept Him into my heart because He died for my sins even though I didn't ask Him to do that? But yet if I break any of His rules I get sent to the Inferno for all of eternity?"

"Sounds like a toxic relationship." Miguel quips as he spins your nearly empty coffee cup across the table absentmindedly.

"Exactly!"

You two talk about love as he shuffled some stray books back to their rightful place.

"C'mon, I know you've had to have dated at least once."

Miguel shakes his head. "Well, I did date a girl in high school. Knew her since the 7th grade. But she pretty much ripped my heart out when I saw her making out with one of my buddies on graduation night. I've had a couple dates here and there since then but that's it."

You click your pen. "Damn, so we both have exes from hell that we dated in high school?"

Miguel nods his head. "It would appear we do. I'm sorry you know the pain and annoyance of adolescent heartbreak too."

You shrug your shoulders. "It happens, y'know? It's like one of those things in life you're just meant to experience. It's like, unavoidable you know? And there's nothing you can do about it. What would you call that? Like not a trope per se, but almost like.... destiny?"

Miguel shrugs in return, "Like a canon event?"

You raise your eyebrows. "Yeah... exactly. How'd you come up with that?"

The ghost of a smirk appears on his face, "Just made sense to me, I guess."

You two sit at the table again and he asks about your childhood and you explain that you suffered from anxiety as long as you can remember and he looks at you with sympathetic eyes.

You do your best to try and ignore what feels like his knee pressing against your calf under the table. The thought of touching him sends heat waves through your body, but you remain frozen in place to send the message you're not opposed to more contact. Miguel feels it too, and deep down his leg is falling asleep with the way it's positioned but he's too nervous to move, either.

You both love the nighttime over mornings, and you show him one of your favorite playlists. He smiles at you tenderly as he holds one of the earphones to his ear.

Soon, it's 10:30 pm and he needs to do his closing duties. Luckily, there weren't any patrons who needed his assistance during his whole shift, proving his point earlier. Before he excuses himself, you two sit in silence for the longest time, both trying to gauge if now's the time to say goodbye to one another, but neither of you wanting to actually be the one who does.

Not sure if it was the absence of any light outside, the late hour, the good conversation you two shared, or a combination of all three, but the ripple of attraction you harbored for him has now washed over you completely and morphed into a formidable wave, threatening to take over your whole body, the darkness of this library and persistence of the ongoing storm outside pushing you closer to him.

He's staring at the corner of your laptop, similar feelings ebbing through him, not sure what's got into him. The art of flirting turned itself into uncharted territory for him a longggg time ago.

He finally decided to look at you but you're already looking at him and he snaps his gaze back down onto the bare table below him, silently cursing in his head as a shade of red fluster rises in his cheeks.

You realize you're going to have to be the one to be brave this time again. "Well, this has been fun...."

Miguel scoffs, starting to bounce his leg under the table. "You say that in the most sarcastic tone known to man."

You return with a scoff of your own, adding a smile, "Well I mean, technically you were working this whole time, isn't that boring?"

Miguel shrugs, the heat in his face returning. "You made it more fun..." The volume in his voice decreasing to a murmur.

You look down as well, your heart fluttering in your chest. You really wanted to kiss him. Or just be closer to him, you don't know why. Of course he was cute as hell but after talking to him for hours, there was no denying a spark had formed. You just didn't know whether one or both of you would make the first move to actually do something about it.

Miguel can't believe that he's actually going to try and attempt to ask you to stay longer with him, but he's going to. Just to hang out some more, maybe keep up that amazing conversation you two were sharing just before this. Completely innocent.

Well, if the way the glow from the desk lamp keeps on making your face look so warm and alluring, he's not sure he'll have the strength to shut down any escapades that ensue later, as long as you're completely up for it, of course.

He inhales "Um...so not sure if you have things to do later or..."

You look at him, pupils widening with anticipation at his pending question.

He goes to say, "I was wondering if you wanted to keep hanging out," but it gets combined with the phrase, "Do you want to stay here a little longer," and the word jumbo that exits his mouth is a little incoherent.

"Was wondering if you were wondering to stay and keep hanging longer out?"

You blink rapidly at his blunder, and he groans, placing his face in his hands.

You immediately feel bad for him, shaking your head and sliding a hesitant hand towards his arm. You stumble over your words too sometimes and it's always fucking humiliating when it happens, so you feel no judgement towards him whatsoever. If anything now he's even more attractive. Every little cute thing about him is just pushing you towards him closer than ever before.

Your fingertips skim across the top of the table and press gently into his forearm. He slowly rolls his head to look at you, his cheek resting in his arms as his eyes look at you from behind his glasses which are slightly askew from the way his face is positioned.

His face is still red, but his heart flutters at your sweet smile. "Sorry, my brain just...takes a dump on me when I try to be smooth sometimes..." Miguel mumbles with a weak chuckle, running his hands through his hair.

You shake your head. "I do the same thing...but to answer your question....yes please..." Your voice becomes quieter at the word "please", an trickle of lust you added on purpose, hoping he's picking up on the vibe you're putting down with the way you're gazing into his eyes, your fingers pressed against his arm, the subtle scoot closer you just made with your chair.

Miguel releases a shaky breath, oh, he's paying attention alright. Damn it all if he doesn't take the leap right now. He decides to ask one more time to be sure, slowing down so he gets it right this time.

"Will....you stay longer, with me?" his voice is low, almost a whisper even though it's only the two of you in his dark library, but it's dripping with seduction. A low rumble from the rain clouds interrupts the pause between his question and your answer.

"Yeah..." you say softly back with double affirmation, a sneaky smile forming on your lips. He flashes a dazzling smile back at you, a woozy feeling in his stomach for what's about to happen in the next few minutes.

He excuses himself and goes back to his desk, typing on his computer, the excitement of having you alone making him just type nonsense for the first few moments, wheeling away some carts to the back and stowing a stray book back where it belongs. 

It's now 11 pm. Closing time. Miguel turns off all the lights except for his small desk lamp. The clouds are still rolling and rumbling outside with the wind whistling against the windows. Raindrops are still decorating the street. It's a beautifully dark, sensual scene just for the two of you. 

He laces his fingers in between yours and leads you to a dark space in between two large bookshelves. His hand is clammy, and he's a little embarrassed about it on the inside but you squeeze it reassuringly. There was literally nothing he could do at this point to make your crush on him go away. The shelves tower over both of you, even Miguel, who's 6 foot 9. 

He leans a hand against the shelf just above and to the right of your head. He accidentally pins a piece of your hair under his hand, making you wince a tiny bit. 

"Augh.." 

Miguel's eyes dart in alarm to search for what he did that caused you pain and he realizes your hair is trapped under his hand. He pulls it away, shaking his hand and flicking his fingers in an effort to free any of your strands from it. "Goddamit...." 

He rolls his head backwards in exasperation at his epic failure of having zero game tonight. You hold onto the flaps of his flannel, making him look at you. "Hey, hey come on...it's okay...." 

He finally looks down at you and his lips fall open at your beauty, his heart rate speeding up much more quickly now, and he brings a shaky hand to your face. In his mind, he can't help but realize he's being a huge hypocrite, committing the same sins as his horny patrons of getting busy in the library. But seriously though, at least he had the decency to make sure it was after closing when he was off the clock. 

You feel your knees go weak as he brings his other hand to your face, pulling down your bottom lip with his thumb. He wets his lips and he leans in pressing his tongue gently in the space he opened in your bottom lip, begging to be let in. You oblige immediately, diving forward into his soft lips, goosebumps appearing on your arms. 

Oh fuck....this kiss felt good. He forgot how nice it felt to share intimacy with someone, those feelings that laid dormant for so long rising and nearly bubbling past the surface. It's all coming back to him as he just wills himself to get lost in the warmth of your mouth, the sheer layer of your Chapstick leaving a tasty feeling on his tongue. 

You considered yourself decently experienced, but the way his lips move on their own show you he's a force to be reckoned with and you'd be more than happy to sit back and let him handle things...this handsome, geeky, sweet librarian...

The noises you two make as you desperately kiss each other are little shuffles as you bump into the shelf behind you, with an occasional "oh fuck...," from Miguel. Hearing how turned on he's getting causes you to let your first moan escape your lips.

Once he hears it, he needs more. His hands make their way to your ass and hoist you up onto an empty bookshelf ladder and he sets you down on one of the rungs. You grab his shirt in your fists, not tearing your lips away from his. 

"Do you care about these?" Miguel says softly, out of breath, his mind running a million miles a minute before his actions can catch up to him, gently pinching the thin material of your tights between his thumb and pointer finger as his palms grip the soft flesh of your outer thighs. You shake your head no, wanting to fuck already. 

Then, his hand is in your crotch, ripping a whole right in the middle, tearing away at the fabric concealing your ripe pussy away from him as though it's the cover of a brand new novel. His cold pointer finger hooks behind your panties and pulls it to the side. You gasp loudly as you feel his finger and the cold air hit your soaked heat. 

He chuckles, his breaths still coming out in rapid, succession, the baritone hum of his voice only adding to the wetness between your legs. 

"Sorry, my hands are cold..." Then you can't believe what's happening when he drops to his knees, spreading you open like a book. His elbows pin your knees against the sides of the ladder, the wood pressing painfully into your kneecaps, but the sensation he gives you next makes you forget about the whole thing. 

His tongue glosses over your wet pussy like a finger stroking the edge of a page. His nose tickles the tiny hairs sprouting from it as he takes a deep breath in, the smell of you going straight to his cock. He teases the lips of your pussy for a moment, an agonizing back and forth along the slit...

....back....and..... forth

"God....you're so wet..." 

Back.....

"Miguel..." you whimper..

and forth...

"Fuck...." your fingers shake as you ball them into a fist...

before his tongue dips into your wet hole. Your back arches on instinct, making your body lurch forward, accidentally pushing his tongue further into you which he welcomes eagerly by gripping low on your ass to hold you in place. 

You shudder and twitch violently, throwing your head back at the insanely divine attention he's injecting between your thighs. Miguel pauses for a moment, tenderly licking the inside of your thigh before sealing it with a kiss as his eyes flicker up to you. 

"You okay?...." he whispers. 

You release a shaky breath you didn't know you were holding, a slightly empty feeling as the mind numbing pleasure was abruptly switched off. 

"Yeah, yeah...I'm okay." 

Miguel reassumes his position, tongue fucking you. The soft pad of his tongue fondling the plush walls inside you. He lets out a low groan and he feels you turn to putty in his grasp, his head gently bobbing as his tongue completes lap after lap eating you, enjoying you, savoring you....every drop from that pretty pussy soon seeping out of his mouth and dribbling down his chin.

Your moans grow louder than they ever have, plucking him from his pussy-drunk state. He stands up in a panic and rips off his flannel, bunching it up as his eyes do a quick scan to make sure you're both still all alone. 

"Shhhh.....baby, we need to be quiet.....bite this for me." 

His angelic face comes up to look at you, his forehead pressing tenderly against yours and your eyes go half lidded at the sight of your arousal glistening down his chin, shiny on his thick neck from the thin flickers of moonlight that have managed to leak through the darkened windows of the library. 

You do as you're told, biting his flannel and he stuffed it hastily in your mouth, making a makeshift gag as your eyes water. His elbows assume their position pinning your thighs back and he's back between them again. 

You understand why he made you a gag as he goes directly for your clit this time. You yelp, your sound muffled by the fabric. Your nails dig into his shoulders, two perfect handles while you ride his face. The material of his shirt is thin and you feel every muscle ripple under your palms as he moves to keep fucking you with his mouth. 

Your clit throbs to near overstimulation but Miguel doesn't relent. He swirls his tongue with low sighs of appreciation, unable to tear himself away from the wet heaven in front of his face. 

His saliva and your slick mix together until it's all the same. The love you're dripping onto him and the love he's licking into you becoming a lewd stream of passion. He groans into your pussy as his bulging cock begs to relieve itself of all the cum built up with tormenting ache. 

He decides he wants to watch you cum. He gets up, replacing his tongue with his thumb and his first two fingers, pumping into you with a circular rhythm and easing your clit at a torturous pace. 

"On me, baby...." he whispers. 

Your eyes struggle to stay open as you look at him, a little unsure of what he said. "Mmmm?...." You ask with a high pitched sigh. 

"Keep those pretty eyes on me..." he repeats, his own eyes going half-lidded from the lure of your mouth hanging open. "Fuck...." 

He abandons his plan momentarily as he rips his flannel from your mouth to kiss you again. You invade his mouth with your tongue and he mumbles your name again in response. You start to taste yourself and then whimper when you realize the pleasure is beginning to become too much. 

"Miguel," you pant. "Baby, it's so much...." your breaths begin to hyperventilate. 

Miguel gives a low sigh when you say his name, his cock straining once more when he realized he drew you to say it. He tilts his head at you, his jaw open and curls into a smile when he sees how crazy he's driving you. 

"Cum f'me, baby. Wanna watch you while you do..." 

You try to look at a spot on the ceiling but Miguel interrupts your concentration when he moves his head to keep himself in your vision. The spiciness of this sexy encounter banishing all fears he had before. No, he won't let you look at anything else when you cum.

He gives a loud grunt and clasps a hand over your mouth, fingers turning white, muffling your cry of sweet release as you squirt all over his flannel, your passion causing a few books to collapse from the shelf. 

You shake and start to shiver all over as the sweat you produced during all the action starts to cool. Your hands are tingly and numb. Miguel gives a soft chuckle and presses a soft kiss into your temple with his wet lips and another one on your mouth before he returns his tongue to your thighs, collecting any remaining arousal left behind. 

You rest your head back on the ladder rung behind your head, reeling in your come down. He smiles and plants a kiss into your thigh before bidding it farewell, then comes up and hugs you, nestling you in his tantalizing embrace, as he rests his cheek in your hair. 

"Thank you..." you murmur, only barely sobering up from your high, his musk and cologne delivering you to a whole new state of intoxication. 

He smiles down at you in response and holds your face in both hands, running his thumbs along your cheeks. 

"See me tomorrow?" 

You practically melt at those big brown eyes of his, glasses still slightly askew and the neck of his wrinkled shirt dampened with his sweat, silently hoping you will. 

You beam up at him and nod enthusiastically and he chuckles and plants a line of kisses on your neck as you giggle underneath him. After a few soft hugs and another round of delicate kisses, he walks you to the door. Making you promise you'll call him as soon as you get home as a reluctant compromise at his uneasiness of you walking alone in the dark.

He watches you walk away into the night and doesn't stop until he sees you safely board the bus. He turns around and goes back inside the library, shutting off his desk light with a small click. 

[luveline]

grumpy!joel and sunshine!reader? like he is very gruff and short with people until his girl comes around and tess is like wow are you soft now?

tysm for ur request! disclaimer: I am not an expert in tlou I just think Joel is very fit and also scary ♥︎ tess and joel are roommates here (and also no hate on tess at all I tried to make her a realist rather than a pessimist but she may sound a little jaded) idk lol pls enjoy! fem!reader 

Joel's asleep when you come around. Tess is stirring her drink, small spoon bouncing against the sides of her mug with a metallic tap-tap-tap as your familiar knock raps the door. She doesn't bother yelling, just opens the door to let you in. 

"Hello," you say, though you wince when you spot Joel dozing on the couch. You drop your voice to a whisper. "Nice shiner, Tess." 

"Thanks." She steps aside to give you free reign, rolling her eyes when you toe off your shoes. 

You're not right in the head, in Tess' opinion. You're too soft for this life, and your continued survival feels like luck and nothing more. You know how she feels about you, and you know what she thinks: that to be vulnerable is to kill yourself. You don't feel the same. 

Joel's flat on his back. You push him against the cushions of the couch to make room, perching at his hip with a small sigh. He couldn't have been with Tess when she got hurt, his face clean of contusions. No speckled bruising, no scabbing cuts. 

You place your hand over the solid plane of his stomach and lean forward just a touch. You could kiss him. 

"Joel," you murmur, hand sliding to his waist. His jeans are rough under your palm. "Wake up. I have good news." 

He never wakes gently. His eyes scrunch, his lips tug down into a scowl. When he sees you, it takes a good long second for his agitation to fade into a more neutral expression. 

"Hey," you say, smiling. 

He doesn't smile back. "Where have you been?" he asks succinctly, voice rough with the lingering dregs of sleep. 

"Why should I tell you?"

He almost pushes you off of the couch as he sits up and swings his legs to the side. His shoes touch the floor, and of course he sleeps with his shoes on, he's ready for everything.

"Don't play games." 

You hum in delight at his dark tone and stand up before he can grab you, shivering at the feeling of his fingertips scratching your thighs. You backtrack through the room for your bag thrown haphazardly by the door. You pick it up, excited and scared at once, and scrabble to procure your promised 'good news'. 

"I wasn't far." 

"Your definition of far isn't one I trust," he says. 

"She's a big girl, Joel," Tess says, sipping her drink. She winces at the taste but isn't deterred. "She can take care of herself." 

And if you can't, who cares? You shouldn't be anybody else's problem, and to your credit you aren't. You take care of yourself. You take care of Joel, too, whenever you can, which is why you've brought him the book you found. 

"Here, handsome," you say, holding it out with little ceremony. 

Joel stands up to take it. He stares at the cover in silence. 

"It's a shame they can't include a snippet on every page," you lament. "Like when they used to put perfume samples straight on the paper. I don't know what half of those songs sound like. Which is weird, right? The biggest Billboard hits and I can't remember them." 

"And this is for…" 

"Your codes. Your radio codes?" Your beaming smile starts to shutter. Maybe it isn't useful after all.

Joel knows better than to ask what you want for it. You never ask for anything, ever. You give and you give and at first he'd thought you were stupid, just plain dumb. Generosity is a myth and everybody has their motives. He'd been suspicious of your angle, rejecting you, talking down on you, practically spitting at you to get lost. And you'd listened, for the most part, but then he'd see you in line after shifts for cards, around dark corners talking to dirty FEDRA officers, and you'd always impossibly feel his gaze and pin him with a smile. You've eroded his reluctance over time, and now you're here, sprightly and pretty in his too-big apartment filling every inch with light. 

He reaches across the gap and takes your hand. He squeezes, savouring the warmth of your smaller hand. You have delicate fingers compared to his, and they look smaller still enveloped in his grasp. 

"I'll make you something to eat," he says. 

You nod once, a pop of movement. "Thank you." 

You're not the one who should be saying it but you're the only one who's willing to. Thank you has become synonymous with I owe you. 

Tess lets her gaze flick between your two bodies, clearly startled. Joel drops your hand and it's too late, far too late, she's already gearing up to make fun. 

"Is this how it's gonna be now?" she asks. 

Joel huffs quietly. Tess talks with a brittle kind of love, the familiarity of knowing someone for a long time softening what would otherwise be ridicule. She thinks, without malice, that you and Joel are a bad idea.  

"Hasn't it been like this for a while?" you ask, turning to face her, your usual sunshine attitude worsened by Joel's affection. 

"You're fucking up my guy." 

"Don't get stiffed so often and you won't need a bodyguard," you say lightly. 

Joel snorts, tossing your catalogue of songs on the counter. He doesn't know if they have anything worth eating here, but he's gonna damn well try and find something. 

"You're soft," Tess says to Joel, quick and quipping as she dumps what's left of her drink into the sink. "I'm going out." 

Not much changes when she goes. You come to stand beside him at the counter, your elbow brushing his arm. He doesn't move away. 

Joel doesn't understand why you stick around. Doesn't know what it is that makes you so sweet on him. The first time you met, outside the old meat market on the edge of curfew, he'd been standing watch as Tess made a deal. You'd slunk up on him from the right, and said, "You look unhappy," with your usual softness. 

He'd turned to you in wonder. Wonder in the very worst sense of the word; what could possibly possess you to approach him? Agitation struck like the powdery head of a match against its box, fuck off on the tip of his tongue, and you'd said, "You ever hear that Bill Withers song? 'Ain't no sunshine without rain?'" 

He'd thought you were a wannabe member of the resistance, and that fuck off had rolled right out of his mouth with ease. Your smile hardly wavered. 

"It's 'when she's gone,'" he says now.

You look up at him, he looks down at you. His thick brows relax, and his brown eyes calm. It suits him, and you'd tell him, but you're confused. 

"Huh?" 

"That Bill Withers song. It's 'ain't no sunshine when she's gone,'" he corrects you, the you from the past. He's trying to tell you something without saying it out loud. 

"Oh," you say. Your eyelashes kiss in the corners as you smile. "Right. What am I thinking of?" 

"How should I know?" He doesn't sound mad, smiling at you very briefly.

"I don't know, I thought you knew everything." 

That's not true. He can't know everything, because he doesn't have a clue in the world what he did to deserve meeting you. 

—

please forgive any inaccuracies, I only played the game a little when I was much younger, and so this was made of my watching the first episode twice and some help from people / the wiki!! it's just for fun lol so I hope you enjoyed <3<3<3

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — MIYA OSAMU x FEM READER

On a bad day, Onigiri Miya becomes your new comfort restaurant. Not only is the food good, but the man who takes your orders is always kind. You think the Miya you’ve been venting to on the phone is the same Miya who shows up at your door to deliver all of your orders.

It’s too bad you don’t know there’s two of them.

wc — 2k

tags — fluff, romcom, miscommunication, miserable corporate girl x small business owner who teaches her joy

The email doesn’t even do you the courtesy of being short. They make you read through two whole paragraphs before you get to the point of it all in the final sentence. 

Your termination is effectively immediately. 

You sit back in your chair to allow yourself a moment to take it in. It’s…not terrible, all things considered. 

You get to leave this job that you hate. They’ll pay you severance. You have enough savings to be comfortable for the next few months. 

It might even a blessing.

But it still doesn’t feel good. You worked hard to land this, and now you’ll have to start all over again. Change is always hard, especially when you haven’t asked for it. 

You look at the clock. It’s currently 8:30 in the morning. You’re giving yourself exactly twenty four hours to wallow, and then it’s back to business. 

First things first - a good meal. Food always make everything better, and you really deserve something special today. For a moment, you entertain the idea of calling your friends over to get breakfast somewhere fancy, but then you remember - 

They’re all at work. 

Where you would be, if you hadn’t just been let go. 

That does sting a little, so maybe you’re not as okay as you thought you were. Hurriedly pushing those thoughts to the side in favor of scrolling through your options, a plain blue banner catches your eye. 

Onigiri Miya, it reads. 

Japanese comfort food. Family owned. 

When you click on the link, it takes you to a page that’s as simple as it’s name. It’s just a menu and a series of pictures, but it’s what you need right now. Your head hurts. You don’t have the capacity to deal with anything more. 

You want something straightforward and easy to digest. Onigiri Miya it is, then. 

“‘Miya speakin’. What can I get ya?” 

It’s a pleasantly accented voice. When you rattle off your order, you suddenly find it a little less pleasant after he says, “Er. Ya sure?”

This is some shoddy customer service. 

“I’m placing the order, aren’t I?”

“Those two don’t normally go together,” he says. “I’d suggest number nine and number thirteen instead. Trust me.” 

You don’t trust him, actually. This is probably just an upselling tactic he tries on every customer, but you’re not in the mood to argue. You had thought when you called a family owned restaurant, you’d be speaking to some kindly old grandma who might let you cry and vent into the receiver for just a little while, not whoever this is. 

At least the delivery is quick. 

A series of sharp raps on your door alerts you to the arrival. You pull it open to a man in a baseball cap and a uniform with onigiris on both. Their merch is cute. You’d wear it unironically. 

Underneath the cap, yellow blonde hair peeks out. On his shirt, a name tag reads Miya. 

Instantly, you feel a little worse for thinking poorly of him. Your bad attitude from work is no reason to take it out on this hardworking entrepreneur who’s running a one man show by himself. 

“Here ya go,” he says, thrusting a paper bag at you. “Eat it while it’s hot!” 

And then he’s off, scampering back down the stairs instead of taking the elevator even though you’re several floors up. You suppose there’s a reason he has those thighs. 

That the food is good is an understatement. 

Your former coworker Aiko used to work in food advertising before she pivoted. She loved to talk about how fake the industry was during lunch, both in terms of people and actual product. It’s through her that you know that half of the food in commercials aren’t actually food, but styrofoam and plastic painted to look appetizing. 

Onigiri Miya, in contrast, doesn’t look perfect. Appetizing, certainly, but not like a work of art. It just looks like what it is - a ball of rice with special ingredients for flavor.

So why are you crying as you finish your first onigiri and reach for the next? 

It’s been so long since you had a home cooked meal. You’re trying not to be maudlin, but you can almost taste the love that went into everything you’re eating. Imagining Miya carefully packing each triangular ball of rice by hand with a smile has you reaching for another, then another, until eventually the entire order is gone before you know it. 

Exhausted from crying and eating, you sink into your couch with a satisfied sigh and fall asleep. 

It’s 1:30 P.M. by the time you rise again, feeling a little better. Sleep really was the cure to all evils. Now you have 20 hours left to indulge yourself as much as possible. 

You’re not in the mood to turn off your brain by binge watching a show. You want to do something. You want to use your hands to craft something from scratch. 

Learning how to make onigiri could be a start. A quick run to the grocery store and the first recipe that popped up on Google later, you have a half formed, crumbling mound of rice with pickled radish shoved inside. If you squint, it looks almost like what you got from Onigiri Miya this morning. 

Who are you kidding?

That’s an insult to Miya’s craft. He put so much care into each dish - you can hardly compare your shoddy workmanship to his. There’s only one thing to do. You have to taste the real thing again to see where you went wrong. 

“Miya. What d'ya want to order?” 

“I’d like-“

“Hold up. Didn’t ya call this morning?” 

Flustered, you nearly fumble your phone. You’re breathless as you clutch is tighter and bring it back to your ear. “Yeah,” you admit sheepishly. “Is that bad?” 

“I mean, yeah, a little,” Miya says. “I appreciate the business but ya shouldn’t be eatin’ onigiri for two meals a day. Yer going to make yerself sick.” 

“It’s a special day,” you tell him. “I got laid off.” 

In the resounding silence that follows, you have ample time to berate yourself for sharing that. What is wrong with you? Why would you say that? He’s a stranger that you’ve randomly dumped your misery onto and you’re sure he’s -

“Ouch,” he says. “‘Kay, I’ll make an exception just for today. What’s yer order?” 

Miya shows up at your door promptly. He’s ditched the cap so his yellow hair is on full display. It looks like he’s run his hands through it. It sticks up at odd angles. 

“Here ya go,” he says, almost distractedly as he hands you your bag. “Enjoy.” 

You bring the bag inside and start rummaging through it immediately, excited to try new flavors you hadn’t gotten the first time around. Out comes the four onigiri you had ordered, a cup of miso soup, and…

A little takeout container of sushi with a cat’s face drawn on it. A speech bubble next to its head reads, “You can do it, meow!” 

Laughter echoes around your apartment. To your surprise, the world feels less daunting already. You hadn’t realized how quiet you had been the entire morning. Miya’s the only person you’ve spoken to the entire day, and even that was a quick and whispered thank you. Your throat almost hurts with the force of your giggles after disuse all morning, but it’s a good kind of pain. 

Onigiri Miya, family owned. You can almost feel the warmth of an embrace around you as you bite into your steaming onigiri, still a little too hot. 

All too soon, it becomes a tradition for you to order Onigiri Miya as your comfort meal. It doesn’t even have to be a bad day - you actively try to avoid associating things you like with painful feelings by using them as treats for hard days. Instead, Onigiri Miya is anything from a reward for getting to the second round of interviews or a celebration for successfully starting a new hobby. 

Onigiri has become your favorite food, and the person on the other line who takes your orders and even spares a few minutes to chat with you when it’s not too busy has quickly become someone irreplaceable in your life. 

You think you might need to redownload Tinder if you’re this attached to the man who fulfills your onigiri orders. 

Even though you know it’s strange, you can’t bring yourself to sever your connection. Miya is warm and kind, and you’ve quickly come to think of him as a friend. It’s a culmination of lots of little moments piling up over time. 

When you had forced yourself to go on your first date after a while, determined to get back out there, it had crashed and burned catastrophically. Onigiri Miya had been there to pick you back up. Miya had even recognized the sniffles in your voice that you were fighting and drawn you another little cat. 

The next time you had ordered, before you could even tell him what onigiri you wanted, Miya had asked you what happened last week. Maybe that’s just how family owned businesses are. They actually care about their customers. Enough so to play therapist to the girl that orders from you every week. 

Then there was the time you had gotten your first call back for a job application, and you had called Miya to celebrate. 

Well, not Miya. You didn’t have his personal number, but you had called Onigiri Miya, which is more or less the same thing at the moment. This time, he had been the one to be interrupted as you blurred out your good news. 

You can almost hear the smile in his voice when he says, “What’d I tell ya? I knew ya could do it.” 

There’s no container of sushi with a hand drawn cat this time, but there is a little note written on a napkin. It’s accompanied by an origami star. 

You don’t cry, exactly, but your eyes water up as you read the note. He’s proud of you. The star is to wish you luck on your continued journey. The knowledge that he’s proud - his own words - fuels you as you keep applying and interviewing, never letting rejection stop you. 

He’s just the guy that takes your onigiri order, but at some point, he’s become someone special to you. 

He cares. He spends an extra two minutes on the phone with you to ask about your day even when you can hear the sounds of a busy environment in the background. He remembers your accomplishments and failures. Whether you fall or rise, he’s there with you every step of the way. 

Sometimes, you get a fluttery feeling in your stomach when he laughs at you, calling you silly for whatever mistake you’re relying to him. You miss his voice when you don’t have an occasion to call, and when something happens, your first thought is always to tell him about it. 

Maybe he feels the same way, because the next time he comes to deliver your order, he tells you, “We’ve known each other long enough, ya order every week. I don’t like being called Miya. My name’s Atsumu.” 

Or maybe not, because he never treats you in person the way he does on the phone. There’s no spark of connection, no bright laughter, no willingness to linger, to stay, to listen. 

Perhaps he’s just shy. In that case, you’re willing to take what he’s offered you and make the first move.

The next time you order, you end the call with, “Thanks, Atsumu. I’ll talk to-“ 

There’s an abrupt interruption from the other end immediately. 

“What’d ya call me?” His voice sounds funny. 

“…Atsumu?”

Even when you’re confused, the sound of his belly deep laughter makes you feel all shivery from your toes to your head. It makes your joints feel weak, like they can’t support you, and you ease into the dining chair as you wait patiently for whatever laughing fit that’s gripped him to pass. 

“Atsumu,” he repeats, with another snort of laughter. “Atsumu, really?”

“What?”

“Ya know Onigiri Miya’s a five minute walk from yer place, right?” 

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Come here,” he says, and hangs up. 

When you enter Onigiri Miya, you get instant whiplash. There’s two of them! 

You’re just wondering if you should get your eyes checked when you start seeing the subtle differences. They have different hair colors, and their eyes are just the subtlest shades apart. 

The most discerning difference is the way the one with grey hair is looking at you. 

“There’s the girl of the hour,” Atsumu says. “I’ll leave ya to it.” 

When Atsumu leaves, Miya gestures for you to sit at the bar in front of him. He’s still packing onigiri. 

“I’m a little hurt, ya know. Can’t believe ya mistook me for my twin.” 

“It was an accident!” You protest. “How was I supposed to know?” 

“I’m teasin’ ya,” he says, laughing. “Yer so easy to rile up. Remember this, okay? I’m Osamu. The nicer brother.” 

“I heard that,” Atsumu yells from the back. 

“Atsumu’s just the delivery guy,” he says. There’s a twinkle in his eye. You don’t think it’s that funny, but you like seeing him mirthful. “I’d rather make the food than deal with the people, so he does it.”

“Am I part of the people?” 

He gives you a look. 

“Stop fishing for compliments,” he says, and your cheeks grow warm with delight. “Ya know ya aren’t.” 

“Here,” he says, sliding you a napkin with a series of numbers and a hand drawn picture of a cat. “I’ve been meaning to do this for a while.” 

By the cat’s head, the speech bubble reads, “Miya Osamu’s personal number.” The cat is winking at you. 

“Is this…?” 

He smiles at you. “Stop clogging up the line cause ya miss me-“

“I don’t-“

He ignores you. “I got a business to run, ya know? Just call me next time.”

Then, he leans over the bar. He’s too close. Your cheeks feel warm under his attention as he whispers to you, “I’ll make something just for ya, compliments of the chef.” 

Trying to recover, you swallow to bring moisture to your dry mouth. You’re trying to be playful when you say, “It’s a date, then?”

He looks at you with a hint of a smile. “It is.” 

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

Leonardo's First Love—Splinter's Talk

When Leo realized his heart was being divided, he felt afraid. 

His attention had always been captured by his family and his mission—he knew what it was like to love them. But never had he thought his love was going to be snatched up, split, and taken almost wholly by someone of the race that thought they were monsters. 

When Leo noticed the pull towards something else, something new, he pushed himself away. 

He found himself tonight an observer to soft skin, a vulnerable but inviting form that seemed to master existing as is without striving for status-quo. And it was entrancing, desirable; sparked sensations in him he had put under wraps years ago as a teen. Useless instinct. Basic drive. He had more to expect from the world, and expected more, he did…but every night, went back to the same old scenario. Her. 

"Get out of my head," he groaned as he laid up in the quiet lair when he was supposed to be resting, lost in thought. Smooth curves. A small stature against his. Hands, running down—he paused. Somewhere in the middle of a fantasy, he'd heard the words "I love you". That brought him back to the fact that it wasn't just desire. For that there were things he felt embarrassed to indulge in sometimes; but it didn't help anymore. Because those people in the screens, the words on a page of an R-rated book, were not her. Couldn't be, even if he tried. He wanted to know for just a moment what it was like to be human. To have that possibility of love there for the taking. And to never go for it, with all the permission those men had just for being human, he was disgusted. Feeling bitter over that fact sent his mind into overdrive—because he would feel even worse if some man did go for it with her. Like a walking contradiction, he was fighting with himself every step of the way. From she should stay away, to she should be with me. 

He got up to practice some forms. Maybe do maintenance on his flexibility. Sharpen his katanas. Anything to stop thinking and start doing. Somewhere during his steady training, he heard Master Splinter enter. 

"What is the matter, my son?" asked Splinter. He always knew even when his more stoic child Leonardo was troubled. 

"What's the matter? Nothing's the matter. I'm fine," Leo replied, balancing on one leg. "[Y/N] should head home, it's almost time for patrol." 

Splinter sat cross-legged down on a cushion with a slight smile. "So quick to mention [Y/N], even when you're preoccupied," he commented, "I told her she was welcome to stay whenever she liked. To repay for her generosity." That generosity being, stocking their fridge with things they couldn't get a hold of, to help out the heroes of New York. Something along the lines of making sure they were eating right for all they did. 

Leo paused, "What? I'm not quick, I was just saying…Splinter, it's weird having someone around now." 

"Does not have to be 'weird'," Splinter said. Leo felt his black eyes on him even when turned around. He was flustered, still going through the smooth motions of his kata. "Tell me what is really going on, Leonardo. I know you have something on your mind." 

Giving up his rotations, Leo slumped a little as he stepped off of the pedestal, setting his katanas down as he faced his father. "I don't know what's up with me, Master. I just don't get it." 

Splinter gave a knowing hum. Still, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "It seems like you've been quite bothered over [Y/N], my son."

He knew he couldn't hide anything from Splinter. There was no point in deflecting longer; he was only embarrassing himself. Finally, he admitted, "I can't…you know the way it is, Master, it'll never work. She's cool with us, but she's a human. And I'm a mutant." He sat down before his father on a plain mat. 

"Yes, a very beautiful human, too," the old rat mused, gently stroking the longer hairs of his chin. Leo flinched and opened his mouth to switch the focus of the conversation, but Splinter beat him to it. "Surely a woman like that would not ever spend money on, cook for, and give quite undivided attention to such a mutant when he's training. You are correct, my son, it's over." 

Leo's face flushed cold, blood rushing to his cheeks as he listened to his father. "Master Splinter! I'm being serious!" he fussed as he leaned forward onto his palms. "I don't know what to do, I—" 

"—want to stop feeling this way, yes, I know," Splinter finished for him. "Oh, young love." 

It was quiet for more than a moment. Leo's face softened, his blue eyes studying his father's as he gave Leo a look of acknowledgement. He gathered the courage stuck in his gut fluttering about his stomach, mind bouncing between [Y/N] and what his dad was saying. "I made myself stop thinking about love and stuff a long time ago. Mikey's always going on about it. I know Raph wants to be accepted more than anything, and Donnie, he's got his secrets. I'm supposed to be the example. I was supposed to show them we can live and not care. That our lives are worthwhile even without humans being involved. But now…" 

Splinter raised a brow at him. 

"I'm in love," Leo said. "And—and want it so badly." 

Splinter reached forward to place a hand on his shoulder. As soon as [Y/N] had entered their lives, he knew this day was going to come for one of his sons. It was inevitable, he thought. "Welcome to manhood, my son, this was fated to happen at some point. I've only been waiting since she arrived." 

Leo felt exposed. He felt unsure, and that uncertainty was driving him insane. He was always steadfast in his approach. Knowing he was a fish out of water in this situation disarmed him. 

"Master Splinter, what do I do? Tell me." 

Splinter's idle smile left as the tone turned  more serious suddenly, adding to Leo's growing discomfort. "You must understand that having [Y/N] means that your burden will grow. Not only will it be your brothers you will have to protect, but her, as well. It is your job to defend her from anything that could put her in harm's way. She is not built to fight like you. She is vulnerable, and being affiliated to us will only add to the dangers already present in this world. That is what you must come to terms with. But you must not ignore your heart, either." 

Having another body to look after. He contemplated that before answering. When he thought about defending her, it did not feel like an added chore. He wanted to. What was he so strong for if not to also protect the woman he loved? And what he had said before…could she have felt the same way? 

"You've prepared me more than enough to be able to handle another person, Master." 

He wanted nothing more than to hold her. That was something he could not deny. He enjoyed being an observer to a way of life so different from his; femininity, not always being the one taking care of others. He loved his family, but at times, leading was tiring. He wanted to forget about it for just a little bit, maybe lay down, be with someone he didn't have to "manage".

Splinter would have been lying to have said he wasn't surprised at all. But he knew his sons, inside and out—Leonardo had iron will. 

"It is your choice, Leonardo," Splinter said amiably. 

His choice? He wanted to laugh. There almost wasn't a choice. He felt like every road led back to her. It was either face his fears, or stay awake every night plagued with the possibilities of what could be. And he didn't handle fear well. It twisted his stomach and ate him up inside when he felt uncertain, afraid. God, one word is all I need from her. Just one "yes". One touch. One kiss.  He wanted to feel her hands explore his plastron, run along the edge of his shell. Love what made him, him. 

Overcoming the hesitance he felt, he let out a deep breath, committing to a final answer. " I don't know how, but...I want to try. I can't let this go. There has to be a reason all of this happened. If everything that's happened to us up until now has been destiny...I can believe it for this, too. Thank you, master."

Just felt like writing our leader in blue having a talk with his father 😌 Going to make this a little mini series for all the boys!

[sturniololoco]

hi i know you just did a sturniolo little sister fic but could you do one where she gets into a fight at school because someone was talking shit to her about her looks or something and she won the fight or whatever but she was in a lot of trouble and matt picked her up from school then like something sweet with everybody and maybe a little bit more with matt cause matt is like my comfort person ?

Fight

Sturniolo Little sister (SLS) x The Sturniolo Triplets

Warnings: blood, fighting, etc.

SLS’s POV

All I remember thinking was I’m about to beat this bitch up.

So that’s what I did.

Usually a wouldn’t let a dumb bitch calling me names bother me. But when she compared me to my famous triplet brothers, then called me names right after?

That set me off.

“I can tell the rest of the family got the good looking genes. Look at her then look at her brothers! No wonder she’s only in three of their YouTube videos!” A girl in the hallway said to a bunch of giggling girls.

I throw my books to the floor and walk over to her, breathing heavy. Most of her friends scurry away, shrieking dramatically, but two stay.

I get right up close to her face, pushing her into the lockers. At this point we had an audience.

“What the fuck is wrong you? You-“ I start to say, but then I’m being smacked with a 610 page biology text book, the corner hitting my eye, while the rest practically breaks my nose.

One of the girls stupid friends tried to help her. I stumbled back, turning away from the girl against the locker to see you hit me. The girl, who was now behind me, frantically ran into a nearby classroom.

“Oh you really shouldn’t have fucking done that.” I say, immediately pouncing on her and taking her to the floor.

She was helpless, trying to slap at my bloody and bruised face. I grabbed her hand and put them behind her back, pushing her head into the floor.

I was about to tell her who the fuck she was messing with, when all of the sudden, arms were around my waist pulling me of the girl.

I look up to see Mr. Howard, my Chemistry teacher, who also happens to be the varsity football coach.

“Get to the office Sturniolo! No detors!” He barked at me, letting me go. I kicked my books while walking down the hallway to the office, yelling,

“She’s the one who fucking started it!” And I stick my middle finger up, not even bothering to look back at the girl, crying on the floor, worried about her skirt that I got my blood on.

-

“SLS/N, I know you’re a good kid. You’re on the all A’s honor roll, you’ve never gotten detention, and you’ve never been sent here before this. What happened that got you so upset?” My principal asked me as I sat across from him.

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” I mumbled, chewing my nails because I knew how much trouble I was in.

“Then I’m afraid I’m going to have to suspend you for three days and call your brother to come pick you up.” He said, giving me a sad but knowing look.

“Fine, but I’d call mat if I was you. He’s the only one who can drive.” I say, picking up my stuff and walking straight out of his office to wait for my brother.

-

Matt walked in, looking upset and down cast, but when he saw my bloody nose and black eye, his face contorted into a look of complete shock. I didn’t stand up.

He signed me out and quietly thanked the lady at the front desk. He then walked over and needed in front of me. I averted his eyes as I felt the tears stabbing at my own. He must have noticed because he said,

“Hey it’s okay kiddo, we’ll talk later.” He the stood, slung my back pack over his shoulder and grabbed my hand as we made our way to the car.

-

The car ride was pretty quiet, except for my occasional sniffles as the pain from my nose and eye began to set in. I didn’t realize where we were until Matt pulled into the Mcdonalds parking lot and put the car in park.

He got out of the car and rationed me to follow him, as he walked towards the front door. As he held the door open for me, I pulled my hood up, to cover my bloody face.

Matt went up and ordered while I got us a booth all the way in the back, and pulled out my phone.

12 Snapchat notifications and 16 text. All about the fight. I put my phone down and tried to stop the tears threatening to spill, when Matt came back with two chocolate milkshakes and two large fries.

He sat across from me and we began eating, but I still averted eye contact.

“Look at me SLS/N.”

I looked up and he gave me a sad smile.

“you know we have to talk about it, so we might as well get it over with.”

I sighed and began telling him the story. About how the girls at school would always compare me to my brothers and call me ugly names.

“It just gets really hard sometimes when you feel like you have strict expectations to live up to, ya know?” I say, some of my tear slipping to make streaks of blood down my face.

“hey I completely understand. I know what it’s like to be compared to Nick and Chris. It’s the only way people could ever tell us apart!” He says earning a small chuckle from me.

“you just need to learn not to get to fired up about it, and just know that people will be mean, but they don’t know the real you, and how perfect you are. No one compares to you because everyone’s unique. And I am so proud to have you as a sister, and so are Nick and Chris.”

I nod, knowing I wouldn’t be able to talk without sobbing.

“And speaking of Nick and Chris, I haven’t told them yet. But If you want, I can talk to them instead of you having to explain everything again. Sound like a plan?” He says.

I nod again, thankful that I wouldn’t have to go through this again.

-

We pulled into the drive way, and before I opened the car door to go inside, I had to take a deep calming breath, knowing I’ll be walking into a dozen questions.

“Hey, you got this kiddo!” Matt says grabbing and squeezing my hand lightly, before walking up and opening the front door.

-

As soon as I step foot into the kitchen, Nick is all over me.

“Oh my fuck, SLS/N! What the fuck happened?” He yelled, picking me up and sitting me in the island, then sprinting to the bathroom for a wash cloth.

“I beat a bitch up.” I say plainly, earning a laugh from Matt. Chris comes up to me and gives me a fist bump.

“Damn sis, you look tough!” He says ruffling my hair. I giggle.

“Christopher!” I hear Nick scold as he walks back in the room. Chris puts his hands up in mock defense.

Nick gently wipes most of the blood off my face, the gives me a sock filled with ice to put on my eye and nose, which were now purple.

“Okay, now spill. What the fuck happened?” Nick says. I look at Matt, who quickly stands from the couch and says,

“Actually Nick, come in here, I need to talk to you and Chris for a sec. Why don’t you go hop in the shower bud.” Mat says.

I give him a quiet okay and hop off the counter and head to the bathroom, taking my ice-sock with me.

-

Getting all that blood off my face and out of my hair felt so good, no matter how dark blue, green, and purple my nose was. I threw on a pair of sweats and one of Chris’s Fresh Love hoodies, before walking down stairs and to the living room.

Matt, Nick, and Chris were all sitting on the couch, getting ready to watch a show.

Matt motions me over to sit with him, so I grab a new sock of ice, a blanket from the basket and snuggle up with him.

“I think I could get used to this for the next three days.” I joke, snuggling close into Matt’s chest. He chuckles and rubs my back comfortably.

I slowly feel myself driving off, due to the long days events, but not before I hear my brother let out a soft,

“I love you kiddo.”

I hope this is what you were asking for! ❤️

[acidsoju]

LOSER

genre: romance, slice of life, college au, non idol, fluff pairing: smitten boy! soobin x reader warnings: kissing, skinship, soobin's a fool (for you), alcohol use word count: 4.6k summary: when soobin’s a loser who’s also a lover.

“Dude, close your mouth.”

Kai closed his friend’s mouth with a slight push beneath his chin. Soobin blinked a few times, landing on reality as he gulped loudly enough for Beomgyu to hear it at the end of the table. A sighed scaped from his lips as he watched carefully at your laughing self, just in the complete opposite side of the cafeteria.

When did exactly this little crush on you began? If he still recalls… It was exactly two years ago, on your first day at uni. Heavy rain was forecasted for that day, yet it seemed like you hadn’t checked the weather at all as you walked down the hall leaving a trace of waterdrops behind. You were drenched from head to toes, just like you had taken a shower with your clothes on.

Still, Soobin forgot about your drenched self as soon as his classes started. He didn’t see you around probably because you weren’t majoring in photography like him, but law.

He did see you again at the end of the day. He was the last one to leave from his class, taking his sweet time at picking up his stuff and walking to the entrance. Just there, you were sitting on the floor, sheltering yourself from the rain under the roof; all your attention dedicated to the book in your lap and, apparently, no umbrella at all.

Why weren’t you going home? Were you waiting for the rain to finally stop? The answer was: yes. Yet to your luck, it’d been forecasted to rain all night long, too.

She obviously doesn’t know. Soobin thought, twirling the umbrella in his hands. Should I offer to walk her home?

He should have.

Instead, an umbrella appeared in your vision so suddenly. You looked up at the boy, how tall, who was pointing at you with the umbrella and looking away, his ears furiously red. Was he giving you his umbrella? You thought that was the case, so you smiled sweetly at him.

“It’s okay, I can just wait till the rain stops.”

His eyes shifted to you, half his face was covered by the turtle neck of his very puffy jacket. The only thing barely visible were his dark and big eyes, but they also were camouflaged behind a thin curtain of black hair.

“It won’t.”

Oh, that was really bad luck. Walking down the rain two rows in a day? You’d probably wake up tomorrow with a sore throat.

“Still… I can’t just take your umbrella.” You mumbled, tapping your fingertips against the pages of your book. “Thanks though, that’s really sweet.”

“Just take it.” He replied, almost whimpering. Soobin bended down enough to put his umbrella over your book, his eyes flickering into yours maybe less than a second. You got up, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Really, I can’t. It’s yours.”

“I don’t need it.”

“What? But you’ll get soake-

“I’m waiting for someone, so just take it. Go.” Liar.

“B-but”

Before you could protest any more, Soobin turned on his heels and walked back inside. His loud heartbeat was the only thing he could hear. He was sweating; he felt so hot yet outside was so cold it made it malfunction even more.

Ah, yes. That was when his tiny crush on you started.

Now, two years later, you both had never crossed paths again. You had tried to find him the next day to return his umbrella, but with only a pair of eyes to recognize him, you soon gave up.

Would things have been different if, maybe, he decided to be the protagonist of his life and walk you home under the rain?

“Yes.” Kai said.

Soobin bit down an annoyed groan and fixed the pair of glasses sliding over the bridge of his nose.

Soobin was awkward, socially awkward. If you didn’t tell from that time you met him, then you were blind. It was really hard for him to get close to people, yet not impossible as he shared his lunch time with Kai and Beomgyu.

“You’re gonna burn a hole in her.” Kai told him, looking over his shoulder at the girl that had his friend so enchanted.

“Let him be, he hasn’t seen her since last semester.” Gyu said, only focusing on munching his food.

It was true. Last time he saw you had been four weeks ago, on last semester’s day. Of course, he followed you on social media. He could spend a really long time staring at a random story you’d share. Yet, nothing compared to the real thing.

Little did Soobin knew that he would have the chance to see you really up close in the class he dreaded the most, ‘classical civilization: literature, philosophy and politics’. Just the name of the course made his head hurt already, still as to why had he chosen such a class? The answer was very simple: credits.

“It’s this seat taken?”

“Ah.”

You waited for a response, completely ignoring the strange automatic sound that scaped the boy’s lips when you stopped at the free seat next to his. Soobin shook his head and adverted your gaze, feeling his ears burning up. God, they might actually melt.

Soobin sat on the edge of his seat, trying to put as much distance as he could from you as if you had some kind of disease he might die if you were too close. Thankfully for him, you didn’t seem to noticed.

Class started and went on for about two long hours, yet Soobin couldn’t concentrate at all. All his attention was on whatever movement you would do; the way you wrote down whatever you thought was important, the way you would nibble at your lip when you concentrated too much, the way you’d pull the strands of hair that bothered you behind your ear, the way your eyes flickered in his direction and spoke something he didn’t hear.

What?

“Uh?” He blinked a few times.

“I asked if you want to come to my place.”

What the fuck?

You must have noticed the perplexed look on Soobin’s face because once you had picked up all your stuff and turned around to face him again, you cracked a big laugh. Soobin only could wish to be buried alive.

“We’re partners, silly,” You stated obviously. “for the assignment? The one we had to bring in two weeks?” You smiled very amused at the boy. “Were you daydreaming all class?” Yeah, because of you.

“Sorry…” He mumbled. You shrugged.

“It’s fine. But we’re still partners,” A piece of paper appeared in Soobin’s vision. “here’s my number. As I said, you can come to my place to do this. If you’re free, maybe we could start... this Friday?” You adjusted the strap of your bag in your shoulder and checked the time in your cellphone before rushing to the door. “I’m y/n, by the way. Gotta go, see ya, partner!”

Soobin sat there looking down at the piece of paper laying innocently on his desk and the neatly written numbers on it next to a ‘y/n from LPP class :)’. Was this really happening or it was only a product of his imagination?

“So have you texted her yet?”

“… No.”

“Oh my god.”

Gyu snorted, his eyes never living the big screen in front of his face as his fingers quickly shifted over the joystick.

“She’s probably thinking you’ll ditch on her.”

“What? I won’t!” Soobin exclaimed.

“We know” Kai said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “But she doesn’t. You said she caught you on cloud nine all class?” Soobin nodded. “She’s probably thinking you’ll ditch on her.”

“But that’s not it…” He whined not liking the idea of you taking the wrong impression of him. He nibbled down on his lips, thoughts rushing in his mind; he looked up at Kai with eyes full of concern. “What should I do?”

“Text her, dude!” Gyu stated the obvious. “She’s waiting for you to do it, literally.”

“God, okay, alright.” Grabbing his phone from the coffee table in front of him, Soobin searched for your contact and opened the empty chat. His fingers stopped mid-air and he looked at Kai, panicking visibly. “What do I say?”

“You should start with a simple ‘hi’”

“That’s lame.”

“Gyu, shut up.”

“Hi? Hello? Hey? Howdy?”

“Just hi is enough. What do you think about ‘I'm Soobin from LPP class’?”

“Oh, that’s good.”

“Ha! Give me the phone.” Gyu snatched the phone and started tapping at the screen furiously; a big, devious smile on his face.

“No! Don’t do anything-

“And… send!”

“… stupid.”

Kai approached Gyu and looked over his shoulder to the screen, shrugging he gave thumps up at Soobin while smiling.

“It’s not that bad.”

soobin: hey there stranger!

soobin: this is ur boy soobsoob

soobin: soobin from lpp

you: hii

you: i was thinking you might’ve ditched me

you: btw you sound so different over text ???

Gyu laughed out loud like a maniac at your response, while Soobin groaned annoyed. Maybe she’ll think she’s being catfished!

Soobin managed to properly answer you by himself once he locked himself up in the bathroom.

soobin: hey sorry bout that

soobin: my friend kinda stole my phone from me

soobin: just when i was going to text you…

soobin: sorry

you: its fine

you: no wonder it felt like it wasnt you

you: anyways im glad you texted me!!

you: so?

soobin: ?

you: are u free this friday?

you: come to my place if you are

you: or we can go somewhere else if you’d like

soobin: …

soobin: your place’s fine

you: kayyy great ill send u the location later

you: gotta go now

you: kinda busy

you: byebye

“Bye bye.” He mumbled letting out a sigh of relieve. Talking to you over text was easier than in person, of course. Yet it still made him so nervous.

“You got yourself a date!” Celebrated Kai when Soobin walked back into the living room. Gyu cheered.

“It’s not a date.”

“You’re meeting up just the two of you?”

“Yeah.”

“At her place?”

“Yes.”

“Sounds like a date to me.” Said Gyu.

“Right?”

“We’re just doing this assignment!” Soobin exclaimed, red in the ears.

Friday came over more quickly than you expected. That morning you had woken up especially early to clean up around your house at least a little. The perks of living alone were that no one told you to when to clean up. The bad thing was, no one ever told you to clean up. And as a student living on its own during college days plus working some shifts at night at a grill meat place, time was something that became scarce.

You had just finished getting dress after your quick shower when the bell rang and your phone screen lighted up with a text from the boy outside. Behind the door, Soobin nodded at you and fixed his bangs with his hand, covering almost all of his face with it. You held the door opened for him and let him in.

“I set all up in the kitchen for us, ” You told him motioning for him to follow you. He obeyed quietly and followed your footsteps into the quite cozy kitchen. “I have water, juice, tea and also coffee, which one you want?”

“Um…” He hesitated, feeling the sudden pressure in his chest built up at the attention-your attention all on him. His cheeks warmed up and he mentally cursed when his voice cracked a little. “A tea, please.”

While you poured the tea for him, he put down a cute little box over your table caughting your attention. You sat down after placing a steaming cup in front of him, while he took the seat in front of you. He thought you looked so cute eyeing curiously the box.

“My mum works at a bakery and told me it was impolite to come over with my hands empty.” Wow, he had actually spoke so casually to you. He was so proud and felt so grateful to his mother when your eyes shone after he said that. He carefully opened the box revealing all kinds of patisseries.

“God, I’m so lucky having you as my partner.” You simply said, not really meaning anything behind the words, after tasting the sweets. Soobin smiled trapping his bottom lip under his teeth and giggled softly. “This is so good.”

Time flew once you two starting working on the assignment. At first, Soobin felt so shy to ask you about things he didn’t know but when you caught on the fact that he was short on his Greek and Roman’s basics, you started explaining to him all about it. And he started to like it so much; not really all the democracy's birth and development part, but he liked hearing you talk about something you clearly knew so well and enjoyed.

“Hey…” He said after checking the time on his phone and realizing you had been already three hours working non-stop. Your eyes left your computer’s screen and fixated on him. “What time are you parents coming back?” Your eyes went back to the screen.

“They’re not” You simple answered. “I live alone.”

“Ah, that’s nice.” Replied Soobin, not really processing your words. Once he did, his body froze. Sure, he knew you two were alone till that moment but he was so sure some responsible adult was supposed to come back and watched over you. Now that he knew no one was coming, he couldn’t stop his shameful thoughts as his mouth felt so dry.

“Are you okay? You’re so red”.

“It’s suddenly so hot?”

“Oh, let me get you some fresh water.”

You stood up and filled a glass of water for him. But you didn’t notice the boy getting up and following you so fast behind you, that when you turned around you ended up crashing against his chest and the water ended up all over him. You mouth molded into a perfectly ‘o’ shape watching the drenched cloth stick to his body, while Soobin’s face exploded red. You could almost picture the steam blowing out ofhis ears.

“S-sorry.” You stumbled on your own words while looking up at his face- oh, you were so close. Soobin’s breath got caught in his chest at the sudden proximity; your pretty eyes looked up into his so intensely. He gulped, his hands itching of nervousness-- itching for some contact.

“Bath…room?”

“Down the hall, second door on the left.”

When Soobin got out of the bathroom, you were waiting for him in the small hall with a t-shirt in your hands.

“I’m sorry ‘bout your shirt. You can change into this one if you want.”

“It’s yours?” He questioned holding the shirt in his hands, really curious as it was right his size.

“It was my brother’s, but he doesn’t know I took it.” You showed him a small, playful smile that melted his heart.

Soobin used the shirt he burrowed from you almost for a week, which, Kai thought, was pretty disgusting. Yet for Soobin, the shirt with the scent of you became his small reminder of you at home.

Both of you met up at your place a few more times after that day and finally submitted the assignment when you finished it. After spending so much time with Soobin, you had gotten closer and used to being around him; you got to know him more and learnt a few things about him like how he knew how to make those delicious patisseries he’d brought that one time, or how he had a hedgehog pet and how cute it was curled up in his big palms, and how cute he was.

“Should we go out to celebrate?” You asked him the night you finished working on the assignment. Soobin hummed delighted, clearly liking the idea of going out with you somewhere to enjoy some time, besides the time he'd spent with you doing homework. That’s how both of you arrived that night at the grill meat place you worked at sometimes.

“I’ll cook it.” He said taking over the grill and the scissors. You happily hummed waiting for the food to grill and grabbed a few bottles of soju. When he looked at you pouring down the alcohol in two glasses, he panicked. “M-Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“Please? We worked so hard, we deserved it,” You showed him your amazing puppy eyes and his hand trembled, the scissors visibly shaking. "perhaps you're bad with alcohol? Okay then, I can drink for you.”

“Don’t.” He stopped you before you could swig down the drink and took the glass from your hands, tilting his head back as it invided his mouth. You whistled impressed while his faces twisted in disgust.

That night you both enjoyed the fancy meat and drinks all paid thanks to the employee discount you had. That night you also discovered that Soobin was, in fact, really bad with alcohol.

His cheeks were flushed, as always, but his demeanor was somehow different, not really in a bad way. His eyes didn’t avoided your gaze like usually and instead it fell heavy on you, heavy eyelids from behind his glasses that slipped from time to time down the bridge of his nose.

“Maybe we should take some fresh air to sober up, don’t you think, silly?” You said, helping the boy out. He walked funnily beside you, his head turned in your direction not really looking where he was walking. “Eyes on the road, Soobin.”

“You’re so pretty…”

“You are so drunk right now.” You said, hiding the blush in your cheeks. He whined, his hand grabbing your sleeve’s end and tugging softly at it, wanting you to look at him more.

“You’re so pretty.” He repeated, in a more demanding tone, a pretty pout in his lips.

“Please, watch where you’re going, Soob- hey!”

“Agh… shit.”

You looked down at the poor boy who’d fallen to the floor after tripping on his own feet. He hissed at the pain in his palms against the cold pavement. His glasses had fallen off his face and he suddenly felt the urge to cry out of embarrassment or pain, maybe both.

You got down on your knees in front of him and tried to grab his hands but he whined at the burning sensation in them, pulling away from your touch. His palms were scraped and red. He managed to sit properly and looked at you with trembling lips. Just then you noticed the tears piling up in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly while carefully grabbing the unscratched back of his hand and scanning him for some blood or whatever. He sniffed, trying to contain the tears but you being all worried about him made him feel even more vulnerable.

“I’m really sor-sorry.” He started sobbing and the tears rolled down his cheeks. You gasped and tried to wipe them away. You touched him with such a care, like you were scared he might break at any moment. His eyes closed at your sudden touch, so warm, but the tears didn’t stop rolling down his cheeks.

“What are you sorry for, dummy?” You whispered softly, holding his face in between your hands, wiping the tears away with your thumbs. His skin was really soft, you thought.

“You’re right, I am a dummy!” He cried out loud. You panicked even more. You had dealt with drunk people before due to your job, but never had you ever tried comforting a six-foot tall, full-grown baby crying his heart out.

His eyes flickered open and stared at you from behind the tears. His eyelashes wet because of the tears looked so pretty but you felt a little bad thinking that while the boy in front of you cried, the tip of his nose red and his lips gasping for air occasionally.

“You’re so pretty, sob- you’re so pretty it hurts…” He said, almost in pain. You stayed silent, humming at his words encouraging for him to keep talking. His hands softly grabbed each one of your wrists. Your hands were frozen in his face. He looked up at you like some abandoned puppy. “It hurts really bad, y/n”.

“Sorry…” You mumbled under your breath.

“No, I’m sorry I’m such a coward dummy” Soobin pouted. “I shoulda have walked you home that day! But you were so pretty, y/n. Fuck, so pretty and I panicked.”

You had absolutely no idea what this man was talking about, yet all you did was heard him carefully, nodding slowly at his words. You watched him scan your face and bit down on his lip so hard that you feared he might hurt himself even more. Sighting, you grabbed his glasses and placed them back on his face, carefully pushing the hair falling over his eyes away.

“I think we should go back to my place, ‘kay? I’ll make us some warm tea and you can crash if you want, what’ya think?” You spoke at him with such a delicacy that he felt his heart squeezing.

“I’d like that…”

Somehow, you managed to bring Soobin’s drunk self into your place once again. Just after stepping his foot in, he started taking off his coat then his sweater and then stopping while grabbing the end of his shirt, after you had ask him to stop, blood rushing to your cheeks, eyes looking away.

You had Soobin drink the warm tea you made for him while sitting on your couch, him stealing quick glances in your direction from time to time and giggling to himself.

“You’re so pretty.”

“You’re pretty too, dummy.” You answered grabbing the empty teacup from his hands and putting it away.

“Am I a dummy?” He asked knitting his eyebrows, tilting his head slightly to a side.

“Yeah…” You heard his weak ‘oh’ while he looked down at his red palms. “But you’re a cute dummy. Let me help you with this, okay?”

“It burns!” He whined, pulling his hand away from the cotton you had dip in alcohol and were using to clean his palm. You groaned, annoyed, and reached for his hand getting so close to him that he found himself cornered between your couch and you. “S-stand back”

“Gotcha!” You grabbed his wrist and pulled from it, not actually thinking he could pull back which was exactly what happened and why you ended up falling against his chest. You felt him shiver against you, still his hand quickly grabbed your back trying to support your astonished self.

“So-sorry!” You squeaked, your face burning up.

Soobin had sobered a little since the warm tea, but he felt so comfortable being taken care by you he just ended up acting like a little kid. You looked up and couldn’t help it, the way his pretty eyes looked into yours made you so weak, you leaned in a little closer and more planted a quick kiss on his chin.

“????” Soobin covered his reddened face with his free hand, not really getting what you had done. On his chin??? Your lips??? Were so soft??? Do it again??? You analyzed his reaction and grinned softly, before placing another peck on his cheek.

“Are you sober up now?” You asked, playfully brushing the tip of your nose against his warm cheek. He nodded furiously. Then you took a step back and put some distance between yourselves, which he thought was really sad. Then you extended your open palm to him. “Let me see your hands.”

Reluctantly, he let you disinfect his palms. He would hiss and whimper when it really burned, but then shut up after you’d place a kiss on his bare palms. By the time you finished your little task, he wanted to feel your lips on another place. You looked up and smile sweetly at him. What had made you kiss him so many times? Maybe the addictive softness of his skin or maybe the way he’d shake under your touch.

“You feel better now?” You asked him, stroking his soft, ruffled hair. He hummed at your touch and closed his eyes, enjoying it. You nibbled your lip, eyes going down at his own. “You’re so pretty.”

He gasped quietly, surprised, and gulped realizing you had gotten closer to his face. You looked so calm, so relax, so unbothered while he was sure he looked the complete opposite; a nerve wracked, reddened loser.

Again, you pecked his chin, slower this time. Then you went up brushing your lips on his skin until you reached his cheek and placed down another kiss. He sighed, fighting to keep his eyes opened. His hands coyly placed themselves on your waist, mentally fighting not to just embrace you against him completely.

You softly kissed his forehead before going down and placing a kiss on his nose. His eyes looked at you pleadingly from behind his glasses, his lips slightly parting open when you brushed yours against his.

“Soobin, you’re so pretty.” You whispered, placing down your forehead against his. “Can I kiss you, pretty boy?” He nodded.

When your lips kissed his, Soobin felt like the whole oxygen in his body just vanished. The warmth from your lips rushed all over his body. You felt his hands tightened the hold in your waist and pulled you closer, sneaking through an eye you watched him; his eyes closed, his eyebrows softly furrowed. His lips were ten times softer than the skin of his cheeks.

When you tried to pull apart, he pulled you even closer not letting you go. His whole arm hugged you down by your waist, while his free hand cupped your cheek. He finally let you caught your breath after pecking a few more times your lips. One, two, three, four, he didn't want to stop.

You gently caressed his face and he, mesmerized, couldn’t stop looking at you.

“Do you like me, Soobin?” You asked him. He nodded enthralled. “Since when?”

“That time…” He nibbled down at his lip, feeling so embarrassed. “It was raining like, so much and it didn’t look like you had an umbrella.”

You tilted your head. “What? You mean that was you?” You smiled thrilled at him and found so cute the way his cheeks turned red at the remark. Giggling, you planted a kiss on the corner of his lips which made him look at you with those pleading eyes. Looked like he didn’t like being teased. “I still have it, you know? The umbrella.”

“Keep it.” He said, eyes fixated on your smiling lips. You giggled once more and attached your lips together again. He hummed happily and kissed you eagerly. That was how both of you spent the rest of the night, laying down on your couch, he embracing you, you kissing him when he gave you that look, he kissing your cheeks, you kissing his chin, until both were defeated by sleep.

“God, I can’t stand it.” Gyu groaned at the sight of his friend watching at you with his mouth hung open while you just talked. You would stop in mid-sentence, smiled and kiss his cheek, and then continue talking about whatever.

“I think they’re cute.” Kai said. “He’s kinda clingy, tho.”

“We are literally here.” Soobin said, his arms hugging your waist and his chin resting up in your shoulder while you finished your lunch.

“I think they’re jealous.” You said mockingly. Soobin nodded in agreement.

“You should dump him, y/n.” Gyu said.

“Oh, but he’s so cute?” You brushed your head against Soobin’s only gaining the fake throwing up sounds from Beomgyu. Then Soobin reached your ear and whispered, concerned in his voice:

“You’re not dumping me, right?”

[gavisuntiedboot]

Just Pretend (Gavi X Reader)

Epilogue

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Warnings: Mentions of injury, blood, stitches, SMUT, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, explicit language, and more that I can't remember.

Word Count: 12.8k (Fun Fact: If you have read all of JP, that's 186 pages single space of reading.)

A/N: Okay y'all, time to finally put this baby to rest. I was going to wait a little bit longer to do this next part, but with Gavi's injury I needed something to keep me off the Emergency Medicine Manual on ear lacerations. And now Joao is here??? It's just the right time. The universe said so.

Gif Credit: @worldcupwinner

Previously on Just Pretend

"She didn't look at the age. She didn't have to. Her eyes landed on the name: Pablo Martín Páez Gavira. One of the best young football players in the world had just used her as a banister. "Now that you know I'm not a kid, next time, you should let me buy you a drink.""

~

"He tried to think of something sad, something painful, anything besides the fact that you were leaning over him, touching him so gently while he was in his boxers."

~

""Don't you think it's a little desperate of you to take off work for a date?"

You looked up at him seething. He stood with his bag strapped over his shoulder, hands in his pockets, hood up to cover his wet hair. His eyes were stern and cold, the usual fire behind them having died down to leave frigid disgust. You would be lying if you said you didn't know about how the Barca men got rid of their sexual frustrations.

"Oh I'm sorry. Next time, Gavi, I'll be classy like you and have weekly sex in a club bathroom.""

~

"It broke him to see you like this - shaking and in tears in a club bathroom, while the man you were trying to impress was probably grinding on other girls. Gavi told himself it had nothing to do with you specifically, just fairness. You were objectively a good person, and you deserved to be treated well by everyone around you. He tugged your shoulder, bringing you in for a tight embrace. You tucked your head into his shoulder, allowing your tears to fall more freely now that he couldn't see you. Something in you began to calm. It was like Gavi had flipped a switch."

~

""You can yell at me all you want. You can be angry at the fact that I care about you. You can punch me," he hit on his chest, "right here if you want to. But I am not a child. Don't refer to me as one. So you can go an be upset and pretend that everything I do is selfish, but you know deep down that no matter how much you push me away, I'm looking out for your best interest." He opened the door and stepped aside.

"Drive safely, doctora.""

~

""No I'm serious. You were having a panic attack in your car. At least... At least come inside and eat something. Maybe have some tea? Anything. I just... want to make sure that you're okay before you leave me."

With wide eyes, you looked up at Gavi after this statement. His cheeks burned, realizing he had slipped up.

"Leave my house. Just come inside.""

~

""Can... can we do something? To help me sleep? But then promise you'll forget about it tomorrow?"

Pablo swallowed hard for the nth time that night. He hesitated. There was no way he could promise to forget a single moment of this night with you, but he could control himself from speaking about it, and that was all he really needed to do.

"Anything.""

~

""Don't leave." He said, voice dry and raspy. You weren't sure if he meant now or the club. You moved your hand to join it with the one on your wrist, giving a gentle squeeze of reassurance, as he had done for you.

"Don't worry. I'll be right back.""

~

""I wish I could go back to then, sometimes."

"Why is that?"

"I had friends back then."

He looked at you in a strange manner, shifting one strand of hair behind your ear.

"Are we not friends, Doctora?"

"For better or worse, you're my best friend, Pablo.""

~

Gavi's heartstrings were so tight they were ready to snap. He had prayed to hear so many different things from you, but never realized that this recognition, this pride expressed so freely, would be the most meaningful. This was it. This was the moment. Suit on, trophy in hand, this was the moment to express how much needed you in his life in a different way. How much he needed to keep making you proud.

~

And now, months later...

The rays of early-morning light danced around the disheveled bedroom, bouncing across t-shirts and socks littering the floor and bedside table. They reflected across the buzzing phone screen, emitting a shrill beeping that disrupted the serenity that accompanied this time of the day. Try as he might to shield his ears with the fluff of his 'cuddling pillow', the sound penetrated through, stirring him from dreams of pretty eyes and soft lips. Squinting, the numbers on his screen prompted him to groan, rolling out of his warm sheets and onto the chill of the tile floor, needing to shower and dress before Pedri began his ritual of calling him on repeat until his butt was seated on the plush leather of the newly purchased Lambo.

The steam rippled off his sore muscles, and he lathered his mint-scented shampoo in his hands, Pablo cracked his first smile of the day at the thought of your hands on his shoulders the moment you got to work, or in the calm hours after. The whole house lingered with traces of you, but the bathroom was the worst. He had slowly but surely photographed everything in your own bathroom, replicating your set up in his much more luxurious marble shower. From hair to body to skincare, he had every bottle perfectly arranged for you to use on those days when the shared warmth of Pablo's body against yours was too much to overcome, and he lead you upstairs for a night in his arms. Or even better (and yet also worse), when the two of you remained entangled on what Gavi referred to as the "love sofa", waking up with muscle aches and bad breath, but always with the upmost feelings of content.

Every step of Pablo's morning had slowly but surely started revolving around you. He was floating, weightless in your alluring orbit. Su Sol. Su vida. The deodorant he rolled on was never out of stock under his cabinet, and it never would be since you cuddled into him and said he smelled like the ocean. He had spent his weeks in America (when not bedridden) searching for bottles of 1 million, the cologne that you secretly sprayed on the pillows before bed and onto every item of clothing you 'borrowed'. The hair gel was at the back of the cabinet, fated to collect dust because of a gentle run of your fingers and a whisper that you loved when Pablo was "all soft and fluffy".

And as he slipped on his training shirt, the ringing started. He knew it was Pedri informing him that he was at the door, and he hurried as much as possible, as to prevent the ring tone from driving him to the brink of madness. He scurried down the stairs, careful not to crack his head open while running in socks (well, not to crack it open again). He grabbed his bag from its hook by the door, slipping on his shoes. Before exiting, he looked at the wall beside the door. He ran his fingers up the taped photographs slowly. They dragged across the young faces of his old teammates, over is mother and father and sister on a white-sand beach, dancing past the collection of pictures from the Supercopa and the Ballon D'or, and rested on the only picture frame hanging on the wall. It was one of those tacky pink ones that stores sold on Valentine's day, with AMOR written in chunky red glitter. He was sat on your chair at work, your stethoscope around his neck and you perched in his lap in your red scrubs. His right cheek was smooshed from the force of the kiss you left on it, bright red lipstick already marking his other cheek and his lips. He leaned forward, placing a swift kiss to the cool glass, before running out the door to finally stop the incessant calls.

"You know if you had been three minutes later, we would have had to skip the coffee shop." Pedri said, pulling out before the passenger door was fully shut.

"I would rather walk to training than skip that."

"How much money do you make to be buying your girl a large coffee every morning?"

"I would sell my house to keep buying her coffee in the morning."

The words 'that's a little extreme' stopped on the tip of Pedri's tongue - if Gavi was not going to be extreme in his love, then who would be?

~

"And finally, Nicolas, we have the physio who will be overseeing much of your work. I'll be introducing you two now."

It was comforting to know that Dr. Gonzalez was just as dry with everyone. The muffled words came with a swift three knocks at the door, and he peaked his head in before you could release the permission from your lips.

"May we enter, Doctora?"

"Yes, of course, Dr. Gonzalez. I have no players on my schedule until 8:30. Please come in, make yourselves comfortable."

He entered with a tall, muscular boy behind him, his dark curls falling in front of his bright blue eyes. His scrubs shirt puckered in the chest area, in danger of bursting due to a deep breath. He shuffled in awkwardly, opting to stand behind Dr. Gonzalez rather than occupy the seat next to him.

"Now, Nicolas. Before you is a shining example of what the individuals in your program are capable of achieving. This is-"

"Oh! You're Doctora Gavira!"

There was a moment of radio silence that circled the room, before you had the courage to whisper out, "...what?"

"Nicolas, don't interrupt." Dr. Gonzalez decided to ignore what the new kid had just called you. "This is Doctora y/n y/l/n, who many people refer to as just Doctora. Please do not do that without her explicit permission. She joined us a little over a year ago from the same program you are in, and has been an effective technician who has brought medical success to the club. Barring any tragedies like pregnancy, she will become the club's Assistant Head of Physiotherapy. Despite your initial examination being slightly more disappointing than hers, we believe you can excel under her mentorship. You will be fired upon her first complaint. I'll leave you two alone now to be acquainted. Doctora, please allow him to shadow you through the medical examinations happening today. Thank you both."

Nicolas sat in shock at all the insults that had just been so casually shot through him while you smiled sweetly and waived your boss out the door. As soon as the click of the door was heard, your smile dropped and you were leaning menacingly over the desk.

"Okay, confess right now or lose your job: who told you to call me Doctora Gavira"

"What? I- no one! Are you not married to Gavi?"

"Where would you get that idea?" You asked while sitting back down, the visible tremble in the boy before you extinguishing the anger within you.

"Well, I walked into work this morning and you were getting out of your car and I was saying hey to Ronald who I met during my interview and I said 'oh who is that she's really cute' and he was like 'oh that's the Doctora and you should be careful saying stuff about her because she's Gavi's girl and he will rip your throat out and then she will sew it back into your body' and so after that I just assumed you were his wife because like footballers aren't usually that serious about their girlfriends and I follow a bunch of Gavi fan accounts and none even said that you were his girlfriend because there's this other girl who is actually kind of awful-"

His tangent was only interrupted by a soft knocking at your office door. You yelled for whatever angel to enter, grateful from the save from the worst verbal diarrhea you had seen in years. And it was the sweetest angel of all who poked his head through the door, hair freshly washed and frizzing slightly in the August humidity. He held a large chilled coffee in one hand, using the free one to rest his weight on the back of your chair. He leaned down to complete his routine with a good morning kiss, but the look you gave Pablo over the rim of your glasses made him hesitate. It was then that he noticed the individual sat across from you. Locking eyes with him, Pablo opted for a kiss on the crown of your head, muttering a gentle “Bon día, mi doctora.”

Nicolas' eyes followed the way your hand smoothed over Gavi's bicep in the most obvious way possible, and it had the young Sevillano tensing.

"Pablo," you started before he could come up with his own conclusions, "meet Nicolas. He's going to be training under me for his work placement."

"Nice to meet you, Pablo!" Shooting up out of his chair, he extended a sweaty handshake that was left hanging in the air.

"Gavi."

"Huh?"

"Call me Gavi."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought because-"

"You want to call me the same name my girlfriend does?" A smile played across Pablo's lips: he was obviously joking, but the intern before him shook like a leaf and sweat bullets, hand still frozen in the air. Letting out a soft laugh, Pablo took his hand, embracing the new intern and reassuring him that he wasn't about to be slaughtered.

"All the boys call me Gavi - don't want you to feel out of place. Welcome to the club. You have the best teacher - I would know."

"Right! Because she's you're girlfriend!"

"Because she's the physiotherapist that's been working on me for the last year..."

Silence once again.

"Nicolas, maybe you should go watch the warmups. I'll be out in a few minutes. Field is out the door to your left."

The boy sent you a look of gratitude to be freed from ... whatever that was. He all but ran out the door, leaving it slightly ajar as Pablo watched him turn the corner, finally having enough privacy to capture you in the delicate kiss he had been waiting for since he saw you a mere 10 hours ago.

"Bon dia, Pablito. Did you sleep well?"

"Not as well as when you're next to me."

Despite asking the same question for weeks on end, he always gave the same answer. It was about a month into the two of you officially dating when he asked you to move into his place. Of course you vehemently declined, citing reasons such as not being able to break your lease and not wanting to intrude on his space. But deep down there was the unspoken truth. Every day you held your breath waiting for Pablo's answer to change. To tell you that he had slept just fine on his own, and that he may sleep even better beside someone else. The day had yet to come, and a small part of you dared to hope it never would.

"That sounds rough. Any way I can make it up to you for going home?"

"Here? In your office? I mean if you insist..."

You smacked him playfully on the arm as both of your giggled filled your office space. Pablo was acutely aware of the fact that every time he spoke to you about the subject, it was in vague terms and half truths. Pablo wanted you to move in more than he wanted almost anything else. In his mind it was the perfect scenario: he would wake up with you enveloped by his arms, breathing rhythmically against his skin. You would get into the shower, hot water rolling down your spine as he laid out your scrubs (the red and black ones were his favorites). He would make you a coffee on the ridiculously expensive espresso machine that would be arriving in 7-14 business days - right after your school and work joint evaluation. The drive to work would be filled with soft melodies and hushed conversations. The drive home would be more vibrant, with Pablito on the AUX and the windows rolled down. And then he would get to come home and help you make dinner, trying not to burn or spill as he set two porcelain dining bowls on the coffee table, under the watchful, scowling eyes of the two of you frozen in a photo. Then he would lay his head back on the couch, his chin on your crown, running his fingers up and down your back to trace your spine. The TV would be playing reruns of the same show for the thousandth time, but it didn't matter. It was the best possible feeling Pablo knew: familiarity.

It was hard being a generational talent. Sure, it came with tons of admiration and praise, but it was also riddled with constant change. Changing your hometown for a big new city. Trading your neighborhood full of friends for an academy of classmates, who you were always reminded were your competition. Exchanging hugs from mom and home-cooked meals with yelled instructions and drills in the rain. Even now, after years of playing with the first team and reaping the success, Pablo couldn't help but think about how nice it would be to stay in one city all the time, taking one set of roads that he could memorize.

But now he had you. And not in the same way as before. In a sense, he always had you. No matter how much you were irritated with the boy, you were always a phone call away. You were always ready to help heal his ailments, despite the eye-rolls that came with it. And when he had come to you at his most vulnerable, trembling hands and open heart, you had been as you always were: ready to take him as he was and treat him with delicacy and love.

No matter where Gavi went, there was still something familiar with him. When he was on a red-eye to Madrid, he could lead against the curve of your shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of your hair and feeling the warmth of your skin. On a tiring night after training, he could always come home and be beside you, tracing the curves of your body that he had memorized, every mark and dip on your skin a landmark that reminded him he was home. The sound of your voice was melodic and soothing, and he could never get enough of the way you said his name.

"Mi Pablito."

Now was no different. The sound of your scrubs shifting, the chill of your coffee against his palm, the way your lips moved against his, so soft with delicate pressure - all of it he already knew, and that was the best part.

"Are you going to come over tonight?"

He always asked. Again, he knew the answer was going to be a huff followed by a shy 'of course', and yet he asked anyways. He loved the stability and the routine. He loved hearing you say that he was the person you preferred to spend your time with.

"Mm of course, mi Pablito. But I might be a little late. I have a lot of paperwork."

"Late? As in, you wouldn't go home with me?" Pablo's pout was adorable, puffy and pink and complemented by his beautiful brown eyes that reflected the fluorescent lights.

"I'm going to try my best not to be here too long, but it's looking like I'm going to be a while. I have to finish the reports about your improvement over the last year for my evaluation next week, do the medical examinations for the new first team members, and now I have this new kid Nicolas."

"First team players? Iñigo and Oriol finished their exams weeks ago. Besides, tomorrow is deadline day. Why would they leave the medical exams until now." Pablo was already stripping off his shirt and laying in your table, ready for you to help with his persistent back pain. You had initially thought he was lying, searching for any reason to have your hands on him during business hours. But then you actually felt his latissimus and erector spinae, and they were so tensed that for a moment you thought about injecting a relaxer into his lower back. So every morning he came in for tension relief at your magical fingertips. But the coos of "aw poor baby" and you leaned over him for half an hour every morning was definitely not going to illicit any complaints.

"Oh, well, there's still more medical procedures to be done. Fermin and Lamine have to be re-examined since Luca forgot tests 12.4 and 17.1. And Joao needs to get his examination." You placed your hands on Pablo's back, apologizing softly for how cold they were. Your first session after the two of you had gotten together, he threatened to burn every latex glove in the club. He hated the way they felt, and now that he was having a lot of skin-to-skin time, he felt that the gloves were pointless.

"Oh, I forgot that Cancelo had flown in. He's going to do wonders for our defense. Just like you're doing wonders for my back, mi amor." He allowed his eyes to flutter shut, breathing deeply and focusing on the feeling of your fingertips. Looking over your shoulder, you ensured the hallway was empty before leaning down to kiss the gentle dip where his spine was. It released a little giggle from Pablo, who tutted and said that you were trouble.

"Just relax. You think I would ever get you in trouble?"

"Oh I was in trouble the first moment that I saw you, mi Doctora."

Before you could respond, your office door swung open, and Nicolas' worried face was staring back at you.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Doctora!! I should have knocked! I didn't realize you were... occupied."

"Why did you pause before- you know what, I don't want to know. What's up Nicolas?"

"Mister Xavi wanted me to tell you that Joao is here on the field, and that he should be examined as soon as possible so he can join the morning training."

Your fingers stilled and your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Gavi felt your shift but remained silent. When the two of you first started dating, he had been very protective, borderline your official spokesperson in the club. He would tell the other players you couldn't meet with them when he knew you had paperwork, and would react harshly to those who questioned your medical decisions. It had gotten you reprimanded by Dr. G, who had reminded you that your relationship should not interfere with your work. And you didn't need to be a genius to know that the players being too intimidated to get physiotherapy was 'interference with work'.

"I had him on the schedule for later this afternoon. I guess Mister wants him training earlier. I have 10 minutes left with Gavi, and then we'll both be out on the practice field."

Just as Gavi's eyes began to droop and his muscles relaxed enough for him to drift into a peaceful sleep, you were by his ear whispering for him to wake up.

"Come on, mi campeon - you have to go to training."

"Mm I don't want to," he mumbled as he rolled over, abs on display as he smiled up at you. "It's so nice and comfortable here."

You rested your hands on his hips, tracing them slowly up his slow stomach, leaving a trail of heat in your path. They continued upward until your palms lay flat on his pecs, and you leaned in to place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose.

"Stay here then. Take a little nap while I finish the medicals. In the meantime, they'll have Fermin take your place, and then he'll win the Golden Boy next year, and maybe he'll fall in love with his physio on the sidelines..."

"Ah yes, I can see it now," he said, "the beautiful story between Fermin and his physio... Nicolas."

You both burst out laughing at the mental image of the tall Nicolas sweeping Fermin into a homoerotic, Mbappe-Giroud embrace after he scored a goal. You walked over to the chair, tossing Gavi his training shirt and watching it slip back over the defined, rippling muscle, remaining taunt against his biceps. He opened the door for you, placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the field. The 9am sun was beaming on the late August grass, reflecting the dew on the grass and the beads of sweat glistening on the boys that were running laps and stretching (some better than others - you made a mental note of who you would probably be seeing later). Pablo shot you a quick wink before scurrying off towards his peers.

"Bon dia, Doctora!" The yell came from across the pitch, and was accompanied by the excited waves from Fermin and Balde, who were having the time of their lives making fun of their whipped friend. Pedri had been part of that group initially, joining in on the taunting before games about how he was looking for injuries just to have her run onto the field. He had lingered with the other boys in the locker room to point out any bruises or scratches that Pablo had acquired, teasing him about 'finally getting some'. But since you had become best friends with his crush/ nemesis, it had become a lot harder to make fun of the younger boy without repercussions.

The older players had been overjoyed for the two of you, especially uncle Lewy. His bond with Gavi was special to him, and far surpassed just their relationship on the field. He saw his younger self in Pablo, and couldn't help the feeling he got watching the boy fall in love. The way that Gavi was fiercely protective of you, so excited to watch you shine, reminded him of Anna and all the light she brought to his life. It was a sight that made everyone's chest swell - watching the two of you interlock fingers and walk to your car every evening, smiling sweetly and leaning against each other. Robert hoped that the happiness Gavi felt was lifelong.

"Bon dia, Mister." You approached the coach and he met you with a smile and a clap on the shoulder.

"Doctora, always a good morning when we have you with us during practice."

"I'm flattered, coach. I heard from Nicolas that you wanted me to do Joao's medical now? I was scheduled to oversee morning practice and complete his medical this afternoon. Has there been a change in what needs to be done today so I can adjust the schedule?" You asked, watching the players do their drills.

"Oh, I guess we didn't send out a memo. Not surprising, because the deal was finalized last night. You're correct, Cancelo is going to arrive within the hour and be examined in the afternoon. However, Joao had already arrived and is currently changing. I think his exam should go quickly, given that you can work off of his previous La Liga paperwork, which should be in your email. I would really appreciate if you could complete it now so that he can join the second half of this morning's training."

If the confusion wasn't evident across your face, you decided to vocalize it.

"Sorry, Mister, but isn't Cancelo Joao? Is there something I'm missing?"

"Oh," he laughed out, "my apologies. I announced it before warm-ups began, but you were still in your morning session with Gavi. The club has secured a loan deal for this season for Joao Felix from Atletico. He should be waiting for you in the hall by your office."

Gavi watched the color drain from your face from across the field, and you couldn't help the feeling of anxiety that flooded your system. If you hadn't heard the announcement, then neither had Pablo, and given your track record with Felix, you knew that it wasn't going to be his favorite news.

"Ah, that's great news!" You tried to sound as enthusiastic as possible. "I just need to get Nicolas so he can shadow me and give the boys some stretch instructions before you get started with the team drills. Do you mind?" Xavi indicated for you to step on the field, and you all but sprinted over to Gavi and his teammates. Nicolas stood there, trying his best not to die of anxiety while chatting with the players and taking notes on the specific stretches that each one of them has been assigned by you.

"Hi Doctora." The greeting came from Ferran, who, after several weeks of therapy, had reached out to you to apologize for his behavior. He was keeping his relationship professional, and the personal growth you had seen was surprising. It didn't erase the hurt he had caused you, but allowed you to work with him without wanting to punch him in the face. Maybe after some more time (and therapy), you could be as friendly with him as the boys were.

"Hi Ferran. Looking good, boys. Pedri, that right hamstring needs more work." You quickly shot out, receiving a sigh as he worked out his leg for the third time. The rest of the boys looked like they were ready to engage in small-talk, but you beat them to it.

"So, are you guys excited about the new signings coming in today?" You asked, bouncing on one leg to the other.

"Very. I think Felix is going to be a fantastic contribution to the last third of the field. Will really help our attacking power." Pedri said absent-mindedly, grimacing at the effort necessary to help release the tension in his thigh.

"Felix?" Gavi was obviously confused, eyebrows stitching together, making him look even more angry bird-like than usual.

"Oh, right, you weren't here." Fermin said, turning to his childhood friend. "They finalized Joao Felix. He's arriving today and training with us after his medical exam."

"Which I'm about to go do right now." You added on quickly, hoping to rip off the Band-Aid.

"You're going to be alone with Felix?" Gavi asked in what was probably a louder tone than intended. Pablo would never describe himself with the word 'jealous'. Why would he be? He knew what he brought to the table. He was cute, successful, and was absolutely head-over-heels in love with you in a way that bordered obsession. He knew that the Portuguese playboy had nothing on him in that respect. But whenever he thought back to the stories you had told him about your first meeting with Felix, or back to the Ballon D'or when he had so effortlessly wrapped himself around you, it made the bile rise in his throat.

"Well," you tried to ignore the looks of the players around you, with their ears pricked up and waiting waiting with baited breath for your response. "Not alone. Nicolas is going to be there."

Silence. A beat passed. The another. Then another and another until the silence grew almost unbearable.

"Alright, mi Doctora. See you during the break, then." Pablo's soft eyes reached yours, and you unexpectedly found not a singular trace of negative feeling. Not one heat flare of jealousy or anger crossed his features, and it was borderline unsettling.

~

Pablo's eyes remained trained on you as you re-emerged, Nicolas to your left and Joao flanking the right. The three of you spoke freely and lightly, and Gavi strained his ears to try and listen in on what had the trio giggling. As Nicolas departed to report back to Dr. G, you continued towards Pablo with Joao by your side.

"I know you two have met and shoved each other many times," You said, extending your hand to help pull Pablo to his feet. "But I thought it was time to introduce the two of you on friendly terms. Pablo, this is Joao Felix, our new striker. And Joao this is Gavi, our brilliant golden boy midfielder and," you waved at him to lean in closer, "my brilliant boyfriend." The wink you shot him had Pablo blushing like a schoolgirl, and Joao clapped him on the shoulder affectionately.

"Ay, look at that. Always the winner, irmao. The doutora was actually a big part in helping me come to the club of my dreams, so I'm really thankful for her."

"Really?" Pablo questioned.

"Remember? I told you I was reviewing his health profile. We did it together actually when I was over for-"

"For when Aurora was in town. You're right."

You left the boys shortly after, sitting at your desk anxiously. You knew that Gavi's reaction was... uncharacteristic at best. He had been very unhappy when he found out that you were reviewing his file for a transfer. Help was also a relative term...

"Mi vida, you can't be serious!"

"Pablo, they didn't ask me for my personal opinion on the matter. They sent me the medical profile of a player for a injury probability analysis and fitness examination. They didn't even include his full name."

"Right. J. F. from Atletico Madrid. What a mystery!"

Pablo flopped onto the bed, arms crossed and pouting as he got under the covers. He looked down at his lap, praying that you didn't use the J-word. He wasn't jealous. He wasn't. Feelings like jealousy and insecurity never found their way into his system. But he just... didn't like it. He didn't like the idea that someone was walking around thinking about you in a sinful manner. He replayed over and over in his head your account of the first time you had met 'Portugal boy'. How he 'hoped to see more of you'. Sick bastard. Your sweet, innocent mind had let the comment slide quickly, interpreting it as him wanting to see you around. But Pablo, who had spent the last year of his life trying to protect you from creeps and weirdos (his colleagues), he looked into it more deeply. See more of you meant see more of you, aka your body. Now Pablo was in bed seething at his own theories. Of Joao flirting with you, getting you alone, getting hard from your gentle touches as you simply did you job, and then...

"No. I don't like it. Just lie and say that he's too mentally ill for the club. We already have Ferran and Pedri - the club therapists are overworked." He pulled the covers up to his chin and turned his back to you, and you could tell that he was genuinely distressed. You crawled under the covers as well, your nightgown shifting up around your legs.

"Aw, lito, come here." You slid into the space behind him, tugging on his arm lightly to get him to unravel. He let himself go slack, allowing you to pull him into you. You turned him to lay on your chest, shell of his ear tuned into the rhythmic breathing of your heart. You pulled his arm around your waist, and he couldn't resist the urge to cuddle closer into you. One hand came up to gently rake your nails through his soft locks. The pressure of your lips on his crown allowed him to release a shaky breath. "Talk to me."

"I just... I don't know. When you bring him up it just turns my stomach." The pout could be heard in his voice as he brought the rest of his body into your side.

"Are you jealous?"

"No of course not." He breathed out all at once. "I would like to think our relationship is stronger than your old celebrity crush working with you." He felt the vibration of your chest as you giggled, and it lightened up the heavy feeling in his core. "But it just... doesn't feel good. Knowing there's someone else who wants you and gets to be so close to you."

You refrained from telling Pablo that was the literal definition of jealousy. And simultaneously, he refrained from telling you that a small, very very tiny part of his brain wasn't sure that you wouldn't leave him for Joao. The man was beautiful, there was absolutely no denying it, and had experience being in a long term committed relationship. It certainly didn't help that Joao was two years your senior. Pablo's insecurity around his age fluctuated in intensity, but was persistently present. It had gotten worse the more strangers found out about your relationship. When he told his friends back in Sevilla, he was met with wolf whistles and encouragement to 'improve quickly' before you left for someone more 'experienced'.

And now Pablo's brain was moving rapidly, thinking about all the small jabs his friends had made about your sexual life. "Just make sure she isn't faking it." That particular one had come from Pedri of all people, who rapidly realized his attempt at a harmless joke had sent the younger boy spiraling. Were you faking? Did you want someone who had slept with more women? Were your instructions about where he should move or how hard he should go normal? Or was that a product of sleeping with someone freshly 19?

"Do you wish I was older?"

Pablo had asked this question often, but always got the same answer. He always got the reassurance that you knew he needed in difficult moments.

"Of course not, Pablo. I don't wish anything about you, or about us, was different. Except maybe I wish we would have gotten together sooner." You punctuated the sentiment with another soft kiss to his head, cradling him close to your chest. He didn't relax this time, however. He followed up with a question that had been plaguing him since the two of you got together, but that he never had the courage to know the answer to.

"Do you... wish I was better at sex?"

You were frozen as Pablo buried his burning cheeks into your side, embarrassed by the way he had decided to phrase his query. You brought your hand up to grasp his chin and turn him to meet your eyes.

"Why would you ask that?"

"I don't know, it's just... something I've been thinking about."

"Has the sex not been good for you?"

"No! No of course not," he sat up on one elbow, trying to quickly remedy the situation so that you both wouldn't stay up until the early hours riddled with anxiety.

"I've just been thinking because... well one time me and the boys were talking..."

"Oh no here we go."

"And Pedri mentioned how it kind of takes a long time to get girls to finish."

"Mhm..."

"And then Fermin agreed."

"I can't believe you guys had this discussion in front of baby Fermin." You clasped a hand over your mouth.

"He's older than I am and that's not the point. Focus, mi doctora. So they were talking about things to make a girl finish faster and naturally I was confused because you don't take that long to finish."

"Pablo please tell me you didn't-"

"I obviously didn't say 'oh my girl cums in under 5 minutes', but I just disagreed with them." Your head was in your hands as he continued his story.

"So then they were like no no it takes forever, especially the first time. And I said that the last time I had sex with a new girl, it only took me like 10 minutes." You were bright red, unable to respond to the news that the team was hearing how long your average orgasm took.

"And then Pedri said that you might be faking it and that's why it didn't take a long time. And then I asked why a girl would fake it and he said because when the guy can't lay pipe well the girl gets bored and fakes it so the sex can end faster. And I know that I really like having sex with you but I don't know if you like having sex with me so-"

You interrupted Pablo by grabbing his chin and pulling him towards you, kissing his pouting lips mid sentence. It was too much - too adorable for you to control yourself.

"Pablito, I love you." You held his face in your hands, just watching the way his beautiful eyes reflected the low light of the bedside lamp.

"It's okay, you can tell me if I'm bad." He said softly, genuinely waiting for his feelings to be hurt.

"You're not bad, Pablo. Not even close. You're actually... okay don't start dancing when I say this but you're the best sex I've ever had."

You could feel the blood pool to his cheeks and the muscles tense to repress a smile.

"Is that so? Please feel free to elaborate." You rolled your eyes, knowing you were feeding his ego, but knowing he probably needed it in that moment.

"I've had sex with other people and none of them... well they never got me to finish, you know? I didn't even think I could finish during sex before you."

Pablo's head dripped to rest against your chest, face nestled in the valley of your breasts, breath labored against you. Your words were most certainly turning him on. He brought his hands to your thighs, playing with the hem of your satin slip, and you knew you were not going to be sleeping for the foreseeable future.

"Can you... can you keep talking, mi amor?" Who were you to deny your baby?

"You know it's not just the way you move your hands," you started as the material began to rise up your legs. "It's just you, Pablo. Just the thought of you gets me ... soaking." He let out a strangled moan against you, your words obviously having the desired effect.

"Sometimes I see you when we're at work, licking your lips or wiping your sweat with the hem of your shirt and I have to look away because otherwise," You stopped to let out a shaky breath as his hands rested on your hips, fingers ghosting the hem of your dampening panties.

"Otherwise I would have to lock my office door for a suspicious amount of time."

It was your turn to moan softly as he started kissing down your sternum, hands also moving your panties down to expose you to the cool air and Pablo's hungry eyes.

"Have you," he paused to kiss your ankle, the charm that hung there teasing him. He had seen it after your first night together, the blank tag hanging on the interlocking chain. He had stolen it one day after you look it off to shower, getting a stethoscope engraved into one side and a football onto the other. His favorite sight was to watch it dangle by his ear.

"Have you... ever," another kiss, up by your knee, "thought about me," kissed to your inner thigh now, "when you..." he trained off, hands reaching up to gentle massage your boobs while he centered his face, labored breathing hitting your soaking pussy.

"Yeah..." you breathed out, almost to the point of vibrating when he placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Tell me about it." He said, looking up through gorgeous lashes as he poked his tongue out, the tip teasing your clit in soft, delicate kitten licks.

"There was this one time... before we," you moved a hand to your breast, placing it over his. You needed the contact, needed more of Pablo. "Before we got together."

"Oh?" His verbal response was short, but the admission made him use the rest of his tongue, still licking slowly and deliberately, but now capturing more of you with his perfect mouth.

"I was watching you in- ah - in a match," he moved his hand off your chest to lace his fingers with yours. "And you wiped your brow with the hem of your shirt and- ah fuck Pablo." He was now flattening the length of his tongue against you, the soft pressure making you want to buck your hips up into his gorgeous face.

"I really want to hear this story, mi sol. So if I need to stop.."

"No!" You said while shooting up, tightening your hold on his hand. He resumed his pleasurable ministrations and you tried your hardest to form words.

"I saw the bottom of your abs and thought about what it would b-be like if I was on top of you..." He was getting more deliberate now, moving his tongue in figures and slipping it into you occasionally, which made your back arch off the mattress.

"And then you- fuck! You spit on the field and I just.. I.. I had to...Pablo fuck I can't!"

Your eyes were shut now, unable to do anything but whine as Pablo sucked on your clit, rolling it in his mouth before releasing it and fucking you slowly with his tongue. He pulled away completely, kissing you once before he came up to meet you at eye level.

"What did you do, mi amor?"

His eyes were looking at yours with such a delicateness that you almost came on the spot. He looked at your swollen lips, your blown out pupils, the way your chest heaved, and he was ready to pledge his life to worshipping you. He looked at you the way people looked at paintings of angels: in admiration of a beauty too great to be human. He kissed you slowly and deeply, fingers circling your slick entrance.

"It's okay, tell me."

"I... I got off on my couch to the thought of you spitting on me. Or, doing anything to me actually. You don't understand how much I love you, Pablo. Everything you do sets me on fire."

With that, he captured your lips again, swallowing the high pitched whine he elicited by slipping in his fingers. He pumped you slow and hard, making sure to feel every ridge within you, taking his time to find that one magic spot that would return the angel underneath him to heaven.

"I love you more, mi vida." He brought his lips down to your neck, kissing you sweetly, before moving his lips to join his hands. Suddenly it was all too much. His plump and swollen lips sucking on your clit as two of his fingers pumped in and out of you and a merciless pace, and moments later you were grinding onto his face, cutting off his air, and whimpering out how much you loved him and how good he was to you. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your body arched so far off the mattress you were sure you were floating. When you came down from your high and regained your vision, you brought Gavi up to you, kissing him passionately.

"You're amazing, Pablo. You're always so good to me. So, so good I love you."

"Yeah?" He was leaning over you now, watching you fight sleep while recovering from the power of the climax you had just reached. He kissed your neck sweetly, sucking gently on your throat to leave a beautiful bruise at the base - enough to be visible the next day, but not dark enough to where it couldn't be covered with some makeup.

"Yeah. You're so good, Pablo." You ran your fingers through his hair for the millionth time, keeping him pressed against you, the electricity running through you. You moved one hand down to Pablo's boxers, rubbing his weeping member over his boxers, making his movements falter. His breathing was heavy against you, and you felt his hips move to rut against your palm.

"If you're tired," he panted out, "we... we can stop. I don't want you-"

"No," you moved to sit up, pushing Pablo's shoulders so that your positions were reversed, with his back against the headboard and you straddling his hips. You moved down, lips on his pulse point while your hands helped him removed the boxers caging him in.

"I want to make you feel good, mi Pablito. Let me show you how good you are."

Your naked pussy, still slick from your arousal and Pablo's spit, moved against his leaking cock, the friction driving both of you crazy. You continued to suck on his neck, moving from behind his ear down to his collarbone, and making your way back up to his Adam's apple. It was romantic and slow and sensual, the way his shaft rocked back and forth between your lips.

"Mi amor, so good, I- fuck." It was his turn to be left speechless as you slowly seated yourself on the tip of his dick. Your forehead was pressed against his, and he opened his eyes to gaze into yours as you seated yourself fully. Hands met his hard chest as you struggled to breathe, the stretch too pleasurable for you to want to move an inch. Grabbing at your thighs and leaning back against the headboard, Pablo began lifting you up and fucking into you, slow and hard and deep. He was in 7th heaven, watching the way your eyes watered from the overwhelming feeling of being so full.

"You're so good lito - the best. Fuck, fuck, no one can fuck me like you can."

"Ay mi amor," he sped up, the praise going straight to his libido, "going to cum."

"Cum inside me. Please, Pablo. I'm yours. Make me yours."

He encircled the back of your neck and brought your lips together in a harsh clash of tongue and teeth as he came, moaning into your mouth. He brought a hand down to finish you off as well, forcing his eyes open to capture yours screwing shut in pleasure.

As the two of you laid down for bed, exhausted and ready for sleep, Pablo took his normal place on your chest, bringing up your leg over his waist. He loved to be this close to you.

"So, lito, you think those were real?"

"Your words can lie, mi Doctora, but you of all people should know that you can't fake that death grip. That was definitely real."

~

It had been a week since then, and the new season was three games deep. Gavi had his insecurities quelled slightly by your consistent affections (and after ensuring he could make you cum), but it didn't make him like Joao any more than before. He still harbored negative feelings towards the Portuguese player. To the other club members, it was understood that Gavi was upset over his childhood friend Ansu being replaced. But to you and his closest friends? It was evident that he wasn't happy with the immediate comfort Joao felt towards you.

"Good morning, doutora! Thank you so much for that late night session - you really worked out my thighs like magic."

"Oh, are you coming out with us to the club? You should - I want to see how you look when you're not all professional."

"The boys from Chelsea say Hi, doutora. They're all telling me how lucky I am to be working under you."

All these comments had gotten under Gavi's skin in the days they were training, and today was no different. While Gavi was running drills, Joao found you on the side of the field and began a conversation with you about F1.

"Oh yeah, it sucks sometimes, but I can't be anything other than a Ferrari fan. I was able to get Pablo into it as well because of the Netflix show."

"Oh, is he also a Ferrari boy?"

"Oh, well he is, but I think he just does that for me. He's secretly rooting for Hamilton every race."

And despite not knowing the topic of the conversation, it absolutely boiled Gavi's blood to watch you talk and laugh so freely with this man who so obviously wants you. His frustration came out on the field, gaining him swift corrections from Xavi to think with his brain and not whatever was angering him at that current moment. When training concluded, he stood near Joao in the locker room, listening to his conversation with Cancelo and Ferran. When the Portugese boy noticed the small Spaniard's stare, he turned to him.

"Great job in training today, Pablo."

"Gavi. Only my parents and my girlfriend call me Pablo."

"Ay, sorry, Gavi. Must have gotten confused after taking to y/n."

"Are you trying to fuck my girlfriend?"

The question sent a shock around the locker room, and suddenly, there was silence. Everyone waited with baited breath to hear the response to the question and the subsequent aftermath.

"What?"

"You have like forty guys on this team that you could be working to get closer to and yet at every opportunity you're beside my girlfriend. So, are you trying to fuck her?"

"No, of course not! I-"

"Then what are you doing?" Pablo knew he was making a scene and that he would be told off for it later, but at the present he didn't care. All he wanted was to understand the plot of his new teammate and potentially his girlfriend's new man.

"Gavi, can we step outside?" Joao's maturity was showing in this moment. He was not about to start a scene two days before he was meant to step on the grass of one of the best clubs in the world. Gavi angrily followed him out of the locker room, prepared to throw insults or punches: whatever the situation called for.

"Okay, Gavi. I'm going to be honest with you because we're teammates and I think we could end up being friends. And because I feel like there's no point in lying. When I first met your girl in London, I thought she was gorgeous."

"I don't know why you thought this would help you build a friendship with me." Gavi deadpanned, anger rising to his throat. His new teammate had 30 more seconds before he lost it completely.

"No I- what I'm trying to say is yes, I did have a crush on her. You're not delusional."

"I already knew that."

"Let me finish!"

"Talk faster!"

"I had a crush on her but then Kepa told me she was with you and I laid off but then I saw her at the ceremony and she said she wasn't dating anybody so then she said her feet hurt from the shoes and she wanted to go back to her room so I walked her there and I asked her out and she said no and I was confused because she was single and she said she was waiting for someone and I just kind of figured it was you because you're the only thing she talked about that entire night and I am very happy for the both of you but feelings don't just disintegrate and I don't want to be a douche who has feelings for your girlfriend so please just tolerate me until I get over mu crush!"

Joao yelled out his entire confession in one breath to answer Gavi's request for speed. It threw the younger boy for a loop, and he was silent for a long moment while he processed what he wanted to say in response.

"So.... you asked out my girlfriend and got rejected?"

"Yes, but before she was your girlfriend!"

"So when my girlfriend was single, free from the guilt of cheating, you asked her out and she rejected you because she was waiting for someone else?"

"Yes."

"Yes let's go!"

Joao was utterly confused by the reaction of the boy. He was ready for yelling, maybe to run for his life, but he never expected Gavi to be smiling, punching the air and celebrating. He turned back to Joao, pulling him into a tight hug and smacking him on the back with strength that bordered on malicious, and then beamed up at him.

"Oh we're going to be just fine. Welcome to the team."

~

It was the stuff of dreams and fantasy. You couldn't believe the scene before you. On the sidelines at the home game in a full Olympic stadium, the fans shouting at the top of their lungs. Barca had just scored the equalizer against Osasuna, and they were coming off the field, little blobs of neon teal ready to prep for the second half. Felix and Cancelo were stretching, ready to make an appearance. A streak flew towards you, and in the tunnel you were met with a grass-stained Gavi, who hugged your middle and kissed you passionately on the cheek.

"You're doing wonderfully, mi Pablito." You said as you walked towards Ilkay to re-bandage his fingers.

"So are you, mi Doctora."

"I haven't really done anything yet." You said as Gavi moved towards the huddle to hear the second half strategy from Xavi.

"And let's please keep it that way! Don't get blood on your new kit."

And it was almost like you had spoken it into existence. There was an electric energy on the grass in the first half, but when the Joaos came on, it was like something just clicked. There was magic dancing through the air, and it seemed like the ball never left Barca's last third. It was just a matter of getting the timing right. And God, was it breathtaking. The midfield was moving like shadows, unstoppable as they fed the ball to Felix. He worked with Balde on the left, lighting fast reflexes that had you on your feet in an instant. It was an impeccable cross, soaring high above the defense line and meeting perfectly with Gavi, who had somehow levitated a foot in the air, and then was catapulted into the far corner of the net. The roar of the crowd was deafening, and you grasped Nicolas harshly and shook him, nearly throwing him to the ground as you screamed with excitement. Gavi had just scored the goal that put them ahead with an assist from Joao. Twitter was going to go insane.

You jumped on the sidelines, hands digging into the pockets of your jacket. You had finally taken what you see as a rather bold step and gotten yourself a Barca kit. Not just any kit - a home kit with 'Gavi 6' in bright white lettering on the back. You had yet to show it to him, wanting it to be a surprise reward. And there was no more perfect time than today. You daydreamed about his reaction, seeing his name on you. You dared to picture a wide smile, and him pulling you close, whispering in your ear how sexy you looked telling the world you were his.

You exited your daydream in time to witness the horrific scene on the pitch. Osasuna were obviously not happy with the performance of the team, and as usual, Gavi got the brunt of the emotionally charged response. They were shoving him, triple-teaming him, using every opportunity to get him on the ground. As Gavi moved into the penalty area, one of the opposing players decided that he couldn't, under any circumstance, let him score again. His arm went up, and his elbow collided directly with Gavi's right ear. The rest was in slow motion - much like the day Gavi took a knee to the groin. You watched the blunt force cause his skull to recoil, and he fell rather limply to the grass. His teammates gathered around, but you weren't going to wait to be called cover. You grabbed you bag and began pulling on your gloves, but a yell caught your attention. It was Joao's voice that got through to you, and over the roar of fans and coaches and disgruntled teammates, you made out the word 'blood' on his lips, and watched as he pointed to his ear.

You sprinted. Nicolas tried to follow, but even with his long legs he couldn't keep up with your speed. Gavi was on the ground. One arm across his eyes, and you could hear him whimper in pain. You looked around his head and saw them: the bright red drops on the grass, all stemming from the side of Pablo's head.

"Pablo, where are you-"

"Ear. From my ear."

You grasped Gavi's hand, wanting to move his arm so you could see, and he moved his hand into yours so that he could clutch it, squeezing hard because of the pain. You soon saw why. You suppressed your gasp as to not spark fear within him. His ear had been split clearly, the blunt force trauma rupturing the skin and causing heavier bleeding than you had seen in a long time.

"You need to come off, Pablo. You're bleeding badly."

"I want to stay on. It doesn't hurt terribly."

"Pablo-"

"Please. Help me stay on."

You nodded, deciding it was better to act fast than to argue. You sat him up, getting the saline and irrigating his ear from the blood. The cut was worse than you had previously anticipated, as you saw cartilage peak through before for the crimson returned once again. You continued to quickly clean and clear blood, a small mound of blood and iodine soaked gauze forming beside you. There wasn't enough time to give him stitches- even the continuous ones would be too slow. Gauze and medical tape would certainly not be enough to keep his ear covered and clean for these last 15 minutes. And plus, his cartilage was oxidizing quickly. You needed to close the cut, and given the circumstances, there was really only one way to do it.

"Can you handle a little bit more pain?" You met Gavi's wide eyes, and he gave your hand a rough squeeze and nodded gently, trying not to move his head too much. You went to pull your hand from his and were met with resistance. He wasn't able to let go.

"Nicolas, gloves on and hand me the stapler."

He handed you the machine and you instructed him on how to place his hands, closing up the flesh and overlapping the skin. You lined up the gun and repressed the urge to close your eyes. You placed four quick staples in his ear, closing the cartilage in a quick way, heart aching at the sounds he made when each one pierced his skin. You cleaned out the blood one last time, and helped him rise to his feet, met with the cheers of 80,000 culers.

"Come on - you need to be seen by Dr. G on the side before you can continue playing. Make sure they didn't crack your skull."

As you ushered him to the sidelines, the penalty review completed and granted to the blaugrana. Dr. G looked over your work, nodding to Gavi that he could go back onto the field.

"Good work, doctora. He will need reinforced stitches after the match concludes, but you're more than capable."

"Of course, sir."

The boys were all aggregated around the penalty box, clapping Gavi on the shoulder as he returned. Lewy raised an eyebrow in his direction, and Gavi gave him a thumbs up in response.

"Don't worry about me - worry about scoring." He called, falling into place beside Pedri and Joao. His Canarian friend placed an arm around his shoulder, bringing him in silently. It was a nasty hit, one of the worst in a long time, and seeing the blood stop dripping onto Gavi's jersey allowed him to finally breathe more easily.

"You okay?" Joao finally asked, eyes still trained on the preparation for the penalty attempt.

"I can still hear, so I guess I'm fine." Gavi replied, arms crossed over his chest but tone remaining light.

"Scars are sexy anyways." Pedri added, sending Gavi a suggestive look.

"Yeah, Van Gogh didn't get any bitches until that ear was gone." Joao's comment caught the Spanish boys off guard, causing them both to double over in laughter. Gavi gave him a playful elbow to the side as Pedri praised is comedy, and from the sidelines your relaxed slightly, watching your Pablo bond with his teammates. The penalty was brilliant and efficient, and after 15 minutes of you clenching Nicolas' arm and watching for a sprouting of red to emerge on Pablo's head, the final whistle sounded, and the boys approached the crowd to celebrate a hard-earned victory.

The players all shuffled into the tunnel, and Gavi quickly found you, walking with you off the field and placing a hand on the small of your back.

"I'm sorry, mi Doctora - I got blood on my kit." He said softly as the two of you walked through the tunnels, and you couldn't stop yourself from throwing both arms around him and kissing his soft pout. As you moved your arms away, you noticed the red droplets littering the light material of your staff uniform.

"It's okay, mi Pablito, looks like I did too. I can do you stitches at home, but blood is a biohazard, so we need to put this with the medical laundry before we leave."

The two of you walked to the locker room, walking into a closed area just behind that was used for medical exams.

"Can you turn around?" You asked, and he raised an eyebrow at you.

"What haven't I seen before?" He asked cheekily, and you rolled your eyes as you pushed his shoulders to make him face the wall. He peeled off his own stained shirt, toeing off his boots and rolling his socks down to relieve the pressure on his calves.

"Can I turn around now?" He asked almost mockingly, and after your agreement, he turned to face you, but meeting your back instead. It took him a moment to understand what was going on, opening his mouth to ask what was going on, but his eyes focused and the words died on his tongue. In bright white text, the saw his name curved around your shoulder blades, his number sitting perfectly in the dip of your back.

"You... my shirt?" He couldn't bring himself to articulate his question more clearly. You knew what he meant, looking over your shoulder, and Pablo was absolutely certain his brain was going to short circuit. It was like there was a halo of light surrounding you, your soft eyes behind beautiful fluttering lashes. Pink lips peaked from above your shoulder, your hair gathered to keep your back exposed. You were wearing his name. You were at work wearing his name, about to walk outside and proudly show off that you were Gavi's. And despite him saying it repeatedly, that was the moment it really clicked in his head. He had you. We were his.

And while he was lifting you up to kiss him, hands harsh on the soft fabric inscribed with his name, people were a step behind, speculating about you being Gavi's as well.

@88rizzing: ok i finally beat @/gaviraconcubine to it - look at these videos from gavis injury. is he holding the girl doctors hand??

412 likes 8 retweets 17 replies

@bigbootybarca: ???? does it just hurt that bad or are they f*******

@alanaTV: yall he's literally getting his ear STAPLED let the man hold onto something

@marcusrashfussy: isnt this the one who ppl posted after the bdor? like the one who hugged gavi?

@gaviraconcubine: ok u got me w that one @/88rizzing but have you seen them walking into the tunnel with gavi on her waist???

881 likes 37 retweets 262 replies

@88rizzing: are you fucking kidding me

@v1scab4rca: AYO??? GUYS ITS PABLO GAVIRIZZ

@4rmy-gyal-4: the bath is ready someone hand me the toaster

@arabianmadridi: at least hes not with the zionest god bless

@loonastansbrazil: @/88rizzing @/gaviraconcubine i got both of yall. i got this pic of them walking out of the stadium.

9,907 likes 424 retweets 1455 replies

The photo was one of the worst quality things on twitter. It was blurry and crooked and extremely zoomed in, but there was no doubt about the subject. Gavi was in his training shirt and his grass stained shorts, socks rolled down to his ankles and Nike slides taking the place of his usual dripped out sneakers. His head was turned to the left, his entire side profile visible. The smile that spread across his face was blinding even in the photo's limited pictures, and his fingers were threaded between those of another person. Your face was turned towards Gavi as well, distorted by your hair on your shoulder. But your back, turned squarely to the camera, was clear as Day with the large '6' contrasting the stripes. The internet was going wild at the thought that he young football star had bagged his doctor.

"Not to be the bearer of bad news, mi doctora," Pablo started, laying on your couch with his head on the pillow, injured ear in the air, "but Twitter found out that you're obsessed with me."

Your laugh was faint but audible, and your footsteps coming swiftly down Gavi's staircase. The sutures and other medications were in your hand, and you moved to sit on the couch, laying the pillow and Pablo's head across your lap.

"Well, took them long enough. I've been publicly thirsting over you forever now." You picked up your gloves and tweezers, about to begin the painstaking process of pulling out the staples so that you could drain his ear.

"Can I grab something before you start?" He said, and you paused midair. "Alright, but quickly. I don't want the numbing cream to wear off. I'm tired of you crying on the pillows."

"That was only one time!" He yelled over his shoulder, running up to his bedroom despite your please for him to not run in socks on the tile. He came back downstairs with a large book and a paper bag from the supermarket. He laid back down on your lap, snuggling his cheek into the pillow.

"Okay, I'm ready. Rip my ear open."

You pulled the first staple and watched for his reactions. of which there were very few. You took this as a sign to continue. As you pulled out the second staple, struggling not to tear his skin because it was wedged under the third, you asked.

"When did you start reading, Pablo?"

"Don't worry, it's a picture book." He giggled slightly and cracked open the book. On the first page, sprawled in boyish handwriting and black sharpie, was the title: My Precious Moments.

"What is this?"

"Keep working, mi doctora. I'll read it to you."

He hissed slightly as you pulled out the final staple, and you began the process of cleaning. He turned the first page, and you let out a laugh that surprised even yourself. The first page was your official school photo that Gavi had printed out, your wide smile and white coat looking crisp. He had surrounded your picture with red hearts, a thousand of them all over the page.

"This is Doctora y/n y/l/n," Pablo began reading, and you gently moved the iodine across his skin. "But we never call her that. We call her Mi doctora. She's the most wonderful beautiful sexy fantastic amazing girl, and she's dating you, her Pablito."

He turned the page as you threaded the nylon thread into the needle to begin closing him up. The next page was a collage of newspaper and magazine clippings of Gavi's best moments.

"This is you, footballer Pablo Gavi. Handsome, talented, and always a winner."

"You forgot humble, mi amor." You said with a smirk.

"Oh, you're right. I'll have to add that in later."

He flipped the page once again, and it was a copy of the photo you gave him for Christmas. Around it were several post it notes taped to the pages. They all said various things in Pablo's signature handwriting: 'doctora number - DO NOT LOSE!', 'see girl dr tmr morning for leg stuff', 'doctora coffee order', etc.

"This is you and doctora before she liked you. We definitely already liked her, but we're kind of stubborn."

"What are those? You asked while never taking your eyes off of them.

"They're all the notes I have about you. The ones that I kept around so I wouldn't forget."

You tried to keep the tears out of your eyes, needing one more stitch to be done with Pablo's ear. He turned the page again, and it was a collection of photos of the two of you from the Supercopa, with you and Gavi both holding onto the trophy.

"This is after doctora broke up with her crusty boyfriend. look at how happy everyone is!"

You laughed once again, having to put down the needle and just let out the joy, allowing it to take over your entire body. You picked up the stapler again, placing four quick staples in his ear as he flipped the page again. You pressed onto the newly patched ear, applying gentle pressure. The pages were filled with printed out photos: the sunset over the sea, a bush of bright pink flowers, a fluffy dog smiling widely. An array of beautiful, ordinary things.

"These are all the things we took pictures of while thinking about the doctora. The sun, the moon, bracelets on street stalls, dogs at the park, butterflies on the football field. All the beautiful things that you wanted to capture and give to her. You just didn't know why, yet."

You tapped his shoulder, indicating that he could sit up. He rested his back across the couch, lifting one arm to invite you to lay against his chest. Nuzzling into his side, your head rested against the dip connecting his shoulder to his collar. The next page was from the end of the league, all the stupid selfies the two of you had taken with the La Liga trophy.

"This is when doctora decided to stay in the club. We're so lucky that she decide to do that, because it gave us the time to grow some balls and confess to her. And also, your first La Liga win (in general and with this hottie)."

You kissed Pablo's cheek, whispering how amazing he was against his skin.

"Hold on, I'm about to get more amazing." He said, turning the page. It was only two pictures. The first was a picture of him on stage holding his Kopa trophy, smiling brightly at the crowd. The second was the one Pedri had took while you two were preoccupied with your first "I never want to let you go" kiss. The two of you were wrapped around each other, lips locked, and Pablo's trophy sitting in the bottom of the frame.

"This is the day that we finally became a man. You got a cute award, and you got the love of your life. And we better not be sitting over this and reading it because we fumbled her. Break your face before you fumble Doctora. She'll fix it for you."

The tears were flowing freely now, and you hugged closer against Gavi. You had never been treated so specially by anyone in your life. And here was Pablito, so busy and occupied with being a world class footballer taking the time to make a scrap book of you. He turned the page one more time, and it was a collection of selfies that you had taken with him at home, all cut into hearts and stick on haphazardly. But to you it was the most stunning sight in the world.

"And here you two are. In your favorite place in the world (at home on the couch) with your favorite person. In love in a way that would have made you nauseous last year. So here is a place for you to keep all the precious moments of the two of you, so that you can never forget how far you have come."

He placed the book in your hands, and moved to get up, grabbing the bag he brought down earlier. Your tear-stained cheeks were rosy, and you couldn't even begin to articulate how you felt. He sat back down, pulling you into his lap and cuddling you in his arms. His head was resting against your shoulder, peppering soft kisses to your neck.

"I know it's a little obvious now, mi doctora, but I love pictures. I don't think I ever realized how much pictures meant to me until you gave me one. But when I look at you, I wish I could photograph you every second and then play back every moment. I wish that we could be frozen in these moments, happy and feeling like there was nothing in the world besides each other. But then I realized that no matter the moment, that's how I feel. Every time I'm with you, I feel invincible. I feel like I'm at the happiest I will ever be. And it's all because of you. You are what I want beside me, forever."

He placed the supermarket bag in your hands. You reached in, pulling out a pale blue jewelry box. Your eyes widened, and you swiveled around to face your love.

"Pablo... is this... I look terrible."

"Don't worry, mi amor. It's not a ring. Not yet anyways. We can't get married while you're still in school, cause I don't want our wedding to overshadow your graduation."

"You've thought about a wedding? Our wedding?"

"Of course." He placed a long kiss to the side of your neck. "I've thought about our wedding since before we got together. We're going to get married in the summer, of course. So that we can be tan and gorgeous - not that you're not always gorgeous, but you'll just glow against the white. Like an angel. Or a princess. Or both. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but in my little fantasies before I go to sleep, you're in this long white dress, like something from Disney. And then it would be between seasons, so I can take you on a proper looong honeymoon. Four weeks in a private beach where you pack only bikinis and lingerie. Now come on open it - I got this weeks ago when we were in Madrid and you had to stay for an exam."

You opened the box slowly, not knowing what to hope for exactly. In front of you was a traditional Spanish necklace, almost resembling a rosary. It was silver and pearls chained together, ending in large silver heart with filigree etched into the metal. The lines formed into a cursive 'P' in the center.

"P for Pablo?" You asked with sniffles and tears.

"Yes of course. But that's not even the best part." He whispered, hands coming up to join yours. He grasped the heart and pulled until you heard a faint click, and it was only then that you noticed the hinges. It was a locket. You gently separated the halves, and staring back at you was a black and white photo. It was of you and Pablo, one night when you were laying on his couch like the two of you somehow always did. You were trying to fix yourself in your camera, and Pablo pulled your chin down to kiss you, and you hand snapped a picture. For a few weeks, it was his lock screen, and you had to admit you were disappointed when he changed it to a different photo. But now, seeing it here, feeling the gentle touch of his fingers against your skin as he placed the necklace on you, you had never felt more loved or in love.

"I love you, Pablo. I love being with you. I love being yours."

Those were the only words that felt appropriate at the moment.

"I love you more, mi doctora. I feel like I'm going to love you forever. And that thought used to terrify me. But now, it's something for me to look forward to. Waking up every day to love you."

He reached back into the back, pulling out a small suede pouch in the same light blue. He placed it in your hands as well.

"You're spoiling me now Pablo."

"That's my job."

Pulling the strings, you opened the pouch, reaching in and feeling metal. You pulled on the chain and it slowly rose, ending in a silver key. It was also engraved with the words 'el hogar' on the side.

"I know that we talked about you moving in, but I never want to make you uncomfortable. So for right now, this is just a necklace with a key as the charm." He hooked it around your neck, and it sat beautifully above your pearls. "And when you want, you can use it as a key to your boyfriend's house, for whatever you want really." He turned you to face him, pressing his lips right between your collar bones. "And when you feel like you're ready, it can be a key to our house."

"Our house. I like the sound of that."

His smile was infectious. "So do I."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N:

And there it is!! Just Pretend, signed sealed and delivered for your pleasure! I am really happy with how this came out tbh, and hope you all enjoy. I have exams and school for the next two weeks so I might be MIA from writing, but I should be back soon. Please if you feel so inclined leave a comment, a reblog, or a message in my ask box about your thoughts/ feelings, and see y'all soon!

*~*Taglist*~*

@l0verl4ne @vibinwkay @anastasia-nova @mxgvmiii @mads-grace4 @bubblebeep69 @katluckybear @scuderiabarca @alwaysclassyeagle @simpingmyassoff @grlwithprblms @lqvesoph @pink-manz @graziemille @xxenia14 @nngkay @icedlattewithextracaramel @gyusrose @vip-access @julianalvarez9 @lavie3nrose @ge0rg1ewaa @i8yul @lovefordilfs271 @remuslupinluver @thattaylorswiftobsessedbitch @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @kaismybabe @notanenthucutlet @fullsun9890 @venomwh0re @renaissancewhxre @gaviandgrizisgirl @altgojo @urmomdotcom5678 @eliseline @invidia-of-alhambra @pixwls @stell4rrrs @80sloverry @car1no-xx @mrsgavira @888bear @kylianmbappee @ivyhrry @gaviypedrisbride @grlwithprblms @dessxoxsworld @user6373738 @sideeblogsstuff @halaxxx @berriesaren

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

Innocent

pairing: kaz brekker x fem!reader (established)

genre: fluff and maybe a tiny bit of angst

el's thoughts: requested by anon for my speak now event. this may have a mediocre ending... but i hope yall still like it!! please note that this takes place yearsss after the events of six of crows and crooked kingdom

main masterlist // speak now masterlist

“Kaz wait up!” Tiny feet pattered through the fields of tall, dying grass of the season. “You’re too fast!”

Laughter spilled from the young boy’s lips as he kept running to the small lake. The young girl tried her best to catch up, while the pair was followed by the older Rietveld boy. 

“Yeah, Kaz, you’re too fast!” Jordie called out as he kept his pace to match Y/N’s. 

“You’re just too slow!” Kaz laughed as he reached the lake. 

Y/N threw herself down next to him, gasping for air. “That wasn’t fair.” The boy said nothing but smiled brightly at her. She smiled back, watching the older boy with eyes that held him in such a high regard. The two year age gap felt like a mountain to her but she adored him with her whole heart. He was her bestest friend, the only one who sat with her in the school yard during lunch and the only one who stood up for her against bullies. The oldest of the Reitveld brothers had quickly picked up on the strong bond between the two and left them to have their fun. 

They never would’ve guessed what life would have thrown at them, but one thing was for sure. That whatever it was, it wouldn’t get in the way of their friendship. As cheesy as it sounded, it stood the test of time.

~

“Y/N/N,” Kaz nodded to the girl who sat in the window seat of his room. She had curled in on herself with a book in hand with the window pushed open. “You’ll catch a cold, close the window.”

She rolled her eyes at him but smiled as her eyes continued to follow his movements. He reached into his dresser to pull out a new set of clothes, eyeing the extra shirt he left out for her on her chair opposite his by the desk. Everything would’ve passed off as a normal evening for the two if only she didn’t notice that Kaz’s limp was heavier than normal and his shoulders were so tense he was almost hunching. 

Y/N grabbed a spare sheet of paper and slipped it in between her book pages. “How was your day, Kaz?” A grunt was all she received in response causing her to roll her eyes. “Come on, Kaz. What’s got you in a knot?” 

She could hear the rustling of his clothes from the bathroom and waited patiently for him to finish. She quickly slipped out of her clothes and into the spare shirt that was set out for her, letting it fall just above her knees as she walked to grab a pair of thick socks. 

Kaz walked out of the bathroom in his black night clothes set, avoiding eye contact with Y/N as he made his way over to his desk. He sifted through a few files and started to put them away in the desk drawer. Her y/e/c eyes scanned over him thoughtfully, trying to piece together what happened. 

“What’s wrong, Kazzle?” she spoke quietly, adding her childhood nickname for him.

His shoulders tensed again. “Don’t call me that,” his voice was strained, it almost sounded pained. 

Y/N moved to sit in her chair across from him. “You’re going to have to tell me what’s wrong eventually… You know that.”

She watched as he clenched and unclenched his jaw, his thoughts racing and flickering through his eyes. 

“Do you ever wonder what our lives would be like if we still lived on the farm?”

The question caught her off guard for a moment before she understood what was wrong. “I do sometimes, but i don’t pay it much thought.”

Kaz hummed. “We would probably have a family and live on my parent’s farm. I would’ve put a ring on your finger a long time ago and I would’ve gotten your father’s blessing. We probably would have had a traditional wedding. Unless you didn’t want that, then we’d do whatever you wanted.”

“Kaz,” Y/N reached her hand out across the desk. 

He placed his finger tips against hers. “I’m sorry I can’t give you that life. That I’ve forced you to live this out with me. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“Hold on now. You didn’t force me into anything. I chose to live this life with you. I wasn’t going to lose you no matter what. You didn’t force me into this life, Kaz.”

He sighed as he finally made eye contact with her. “I’ve changed, that much is obvious, and with you staying beside me… You’ve had to change in order to adapt to me.”

“And I would do it all over again if it meant we are seated right here today. Sure everything was easier in our firefly catching days, running through the fields but look at us now. I happen to like us the way we are right now. Sure, we’re far from perfect and I know you think you’ve done terrible things. But remember, I did them too. Please don’t think that I need or want anything different from what you’ve given me or who you are. That insults me.”

Kaz squeezed her fingertips in her hand, and tried to hide the flush of his cheeks. His eyes spoke his gratitude more than his lips ever could. She smiled her bright never changing smile as they both came to terms with the situation. Sure life would be great if they were able to stay back home and had never stepped foot in Ketterdam. On the other hand, if they never came to Ketterdam they wouldn’t have their friends or all the life experience they’ve gained along the way. The couple may be in their early thirties but they felt like they were still growing up. And as long as they were by each other’s side they’d be innocent in the other’s eyes. 

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️ Ranking Richonne

#12: Kiss Of Life (S7E05)

Ooh it’s called the Kiss of Life for a reason. 🤩 No one does passion like Richonne. ❤️‍🔥 This marvelous scene seriously has a hold on me and features my absolute favorite Richonne kiss (thus far 😏). The moment is just so good and mesmerizes me like no other. It's legitimately hypnotic. And that’s why, even tho Rick and Michonne barely speak in this scene, it absolutely makes my top 12. And you know the kiss is good when you have multiple favorite parts of it lol...

First, it’s important to note that it’s not just the kiss that makes me adore and appreciate this scene but how extremely meaningful this exchange is based on where Rick and Michonne are at during this part of the story.

This was one of the hardest and most depressing seasons for them as they wrestled with losing people they loved and then being expected to be Negan’s servants indefinitely. 

And during this Negan era, it’s one of the rare times when Rick and Michonne are on notably different pages about how to approach the situation. And while Michonne told Rick she’d try to accept this way of "life," it’s clearly eating away at her to just sit and let Negan torment her family.

It’s eating away at Rick too, but with the love he has for tf, and especially for Michonne and his children, at this stage in the show he really feels like he’d rather suffer like this with them than fight and lose them.

This was such a tough time for them, and yet Rick and Michonne's love so heartily prevails with this special kiss. It's the definition of true love's kiss, if you ask me. 🤩

So first, I always feel for Rick at the top of 7.05 when he’s talking to Carl, who is understandably frustrated and behaving coldly to his dad. All Rick wants is for his family to be okay, and they’re so clearly not okay right now, which you know weighs on him.

And I’m not the only one who feels for him because Michonne is of course also in the room for this Grimes family moment, and she seems to be really empathizing with Rick as well. 

So then Rick and Aaron walk out of the room, and Michonne follows and, again, shoutout Aaron for leaving to give Rick and Michonne a private moment lol. Cuz the moment was perfection. 😍 Like for real tens across the board...

Rick and Michonne stand in front of each other, and Rick invites her to join them if she changes her mind. I love that he always wants her with him.

I remember even watching live, I could tell that Michonne wanted to go with him too, cuz magnets don’t part. But she’s of the mindset that she has to try and go out on her own to fight this for the both of them if he’s not ready to fight back yet.

Michonne quietly and compassionately says, "good luck" and even tho Rick is clearly sad and knows this could be a moment of distancing, he still wants to close the gap and at least hug her goodbye, which I appreciate. 🥰

So he goes in for this hug, and whenever I think back to when I first watched this scene live, I just smile because I remember how excited I was that Rick was simply going to hug Michonne and maybe kiss her on the cheek or whatever it looked like he was about to do. But little did I know we were in for something...

Because as he goes in for this cute husband-off-to-work hug, Michonne stops him by gently placing her hand on his face. And I will forever love the choreography of this whole moment.

I love that it’s this moment of Michonne redirecting to let Rick know she wants to send him off right and make it crystal clear to him that even tho they’re going different ways right now, she is not upset with him, disappointed in him, or pulling away from him.

So she warmly takes his face, and then there's this subtle moment where Rick does that signature Rick Grimes head tilt in her hands as he tries to assess what this moment is about.

You can see a heartbreaking split second of Rick seemingly wondering if this is her literally and figuratively pushing him away. And what most pains me is knowing Rick thinks he deserves whatever disappointment or distance Michonne might potentially feel toward him. 😭

His past relationship saw his former wife push him away during a very vulnerable time after he had to kill his best friend for trying to kill him, so it's like he's briefly expecting something like that again.

But one thing that wonderful woman Michonne is always going to do is let Rick know, this is different. 🙌🏽

It's the very thing Rick told Carl the literal morning after he and Michonne first got together - where homeboy didn't even want to wait a few hours before reassuring his son that he and Michonne are gonna be long-term. (which I always am just fully amused by that whole 6.11 scene btw. from rick lowkey forgetting he's talking to his son by emphasizing, "it just happened," carl's reaction to seeing his dad in a tizzy, and judith's 'office' look in the camera. gold 😂. michonne's fam is the cutest, y'all)

And "this is different" has remained an accurate way to describe the elevated love Richonne has with each other.

Because see, now Rick isn't with a love in his life, he's with the love of his life. He's with the one (& only 👑). This is his unequivocal soulmate who will be by his side through any and everything. And I love that Michonne always manages to show Rick that he's met his match in a way he's never experienced before.

So thankfully Rick doesn’t have to ponder what this moment is about for long because Michonne quells any and all of those fears when she proceeds to kiss him with passion in an abundance. It’s utterly perfect. 😍😍😍

No words needed, and she still manages to say everything. I still love you. I still crave you. And I’m still with you was expressed loud and clear. 👏🏽

And Michonne really is such a commendable queen for doing this and making sure no wedge was created between her and her husband. This kiss really made any distance they had prior disappear, and it so beautifully let Rick know he is still cherished and appreciated by his wife.

He needed this moment more than he could probably even express. But of course, without even having to say it, Michonne knew this was needed because she always knows her man. 😊

This moment also feels like something she's been wanting to do since that fateful and scary night in the line-up where there were several times she could've lost him.

Like you know the fact that Rick is still with her and they're still alive, is something she's grateful for and doesn't take for granted. So she needed this moment too. And this kiss lets everyone know that while Negan may have nearly broken their spirits, he can never break their love.

The level of passion in this kiss is great for many reasons, but especially because you know after the lineup Rick and Michonne are now both so much more aware of how quickly things can go fatally wrong and how whenever you leave home and part ways you really could not make it back home to each other. It makes me think about how Glenn left ASZ just to quickly retrieve Daryl, but then he never returned to their home again. 😢

So as Rick prepares to go off on this run with Aaron, he and Michonne really kiss like it could be their last because that's an unfortunate possibility. (even though not too much of a possibility since they're the ones who live, amen. 😌)

And then my absolute favorite part of this kiss is when Rick so clearly gets fully immersed in this moment with Michonne and pulls her closer to him. I freaking LOVE that little gesture of him pulling her into him. 😍 It felt like it was Rick's turn to also let Michonne know - I still love you. I still crave you. I’m still with you.

Rick and Michonne just fit so perfectly together and I love the way they can always get lost in each other. Truly, in that moment for them, it felt like they were the only two in the world and all the other stuff didn’t matter. Their ability to be so present with each other is so special. 🥹

And she was already so close to him but the fact that he pulled her even closer...Magnets. And then whoever pointed out that Michonne kisses his top and bottom lip is a real one because I never noticed it before, but now it’s my other favorite part of this moment. 😋

They were really wild for this whole kiss, y'all. It feels great to be so spoiled. And we're Blessed with a capital B that this ship is literally everything we could dream of. 😌

This kiss is of course steamy and heavenly, but also it is just so powerful. For Rick and Michonne to be going through what they’re going through and feeling so differently about their current circumstances, it is so powerful that they close the gap rather than widen it. That they express authentic love for each other more than opposition.

This moment solidified that Richonne has what it takes to rise above anything and that even when they have entirely different opinions on a subject as big and serious as how to approach fighting for their lives and their people, they will still always be with each other. Wholly, Deeply, & Forever.

Again, I so appreciate that Richonne always chooses each other. And also this kiss was only our second time seeing them kiss like this since their canon ep, and man did they deliver. Like...

I’ve always felt that something so special about Richonne is that they are not like some TV couples who are more interesting in their pre-canon "Will They/Won't They" phase, and then when they finally do get together it doesn’t quite live up to all the steamy passion of their build-up.

With Rick and Michonne it’s a whole different story cuz moments like this kiss let us know that all that steamy passion and build-up was not only matched but topped when they were finally able to express the love they felt romantically. 

Also, when they lost Carl the following season, it was this kiss of life in s7 that I’d think about because I believe this is an illustration of what Michonne and Rick ultimately land on even amidst the toughest adversity. They land on love, which has proven true time and time again.

And as always their moments after the kiss are also profoundly passionate as they look into each other's eyes and then do their signature thing of leaning their heads against each other, truly almost as if finding their center with each other.

I love that they stay in this moment awhile, again with no words necessary to communicate how much they love and are with each other. 

They are the epitome of soulmates, and the way their love shined through in this quiet moment made that clear.

And then I love that Rick can’t help but express gratitude to Michonne for giving him his entire life with that kiss, so he fittingly says what he always finds a way to say to her, "thank you." The absolute cutest. 😊 You know Rick ain't been kissed like that ever before lol. Michonne has that man forever entranced, and I love to see it.

And the thing is, Rick has a special effect on Michonne too, cuz you can clearly see it in the way she looks at him as well.

In one kiss Michonne and Rick were able to breathe life into each other and quiet all the worry of them being on the rocks. They might still have big differences at this point, but nothing will ever be strong enough to divide them.

(that's why when I hear lines like say, "we are the strongest military on the planet" or "we're the last light of the world," or whatever, my only thought is - and yet you're still no match for Richonne. 💅🏽 Rick and Michonne Grimes prove they're the ones who live and the ones whose love is unstoppable every time. 👌🏽)

So it was a big deal for Richonne to have this moment in 7A. I appreciate that Michonne knew her man needed to be lifted up and reminded just who he is to her, and she did just that like only she can. And as the kiss went on, Rick let her know he felt just as strongly about her.

This important kiss shows that Rick and Michonne’s love is unbreakable, and I treasure this scene as such an undeniably powerful moment between them. I love their love, and I will adore this Kiss of Life for life. 😌

[yulin-pop]

⤷ ✧ 𝐊𝐚𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝!!

order 82 | one-shot | Jade | Gender Neutral

❀ NOTE: Initially it was going to be headcanons but this works fine too.

You were in your own world. You happily kicked your feet and quietly giggled as you read your little book. No one else was around to judge you for it! You never liked to admit it but those awfully corny romance shojou mangas are just too good. Call it a guilty pleasure.

You stared intensely at every line and every word on every page. Their relationship is perfect. The book must’ve casted a spell on you because you can’t stop reading.

“I’m sorry, did you hit your head, love?” Aoi asked with deep concern.

“You… what are you doing?!” Dia shook her head in annoyance. Dia tried to slip away only for Aoi to block her with his arm.

“Before that, I need to ask why you want to see him so badly. You won’t even look me in the eye and you’re running away… to see him?” He has tears in his eyes as he said that.

Without you realizing, a shadow loomed over you. The new presence was dangerous yet you kept on reading each page. It wasn’t until you felt a large hand on your shoulder. You froze, you didn’t even scream or move, you just froze in fear of who it was behind you.

“What’s this ya got here?” It was Floyd— the worst person ever! Out of all people that caught you reading corny romance manga— it was him?!

“Floyd, so why are you here out of all places?” You went to the most empty spot you could find which was the forest near the botanical gardens. No one ever goes there even for educational purposes.

Floyd brushed off the question and pointed to the book in your hand. “You came here to read comics? I thought you’d read history books or 18th century novels or something.” He smiled politely.

You shyly close it and slide it under your leg. You tried to think of something to distract from the fact you were caught red handed.

“You’re an eel right? You don’t belong in a forest.” You scoffed while crossing your arms. With that attitude, Floyd knew he caught you doing something that was supposed to be a secret.

“You’re so rude… Don’t discriminate against me because I’m from the ocean. I just wanted to play…” He sniffled and frowned. He kneeled down in front of you to make proper eye contact with you.

You shook your head, “Okay but what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be helping out at Mostro?”

“My whole life doesn’t revolve around that place. It was too boring and empty so I went searching elsewhere.”

You half heartedly smiled at him as he grinned back at you. But he began asking questions again. You sighed, grabbing your bag and standing up quickly. You gave a small careless excuse and apology before leaving with haste.

I guess I’ll just have to read another time.

Floyd stood up to chase after you but looked down underneath where you were sitting. You must’ve been rushing to get away if you forgot your book. Not thinking much of it, he let you go but picked up your book for a quick read.

—

Floyd sat down on his bed, taking off his school blazer. Jade walked in and smiled at his brother. “You finally came back.”

Floyd shrugged, “I wasn’t gone for that long.” It seemed he was still bored, maybe even more bored than before he left. Jade took off his hat and placed it on his desk, though he noticed he may have placed it on top of something else.

He picked up the colorful manga and looked at the front then back. “Is this yours?” Floyd looked over and shook his head.

“Nope, that’s Shrimpy’s. I found them reading that book but they ran away. That book is nothing like I’ve ever seen!”

“Did you steal this from them?”

“Actually no, when they ran away they left it there. I was gonna give it back to them tomorrow.”

Jade turned to the backside of the book and read the summary out loud. “Dia is an over achieving honor student, top of her class her first year of high school. But she pushes away anyone who attempts to get too close, making her a loner. Her life takes a turn when her old childhood best friend, who had moved away nine years ago, moves back into town. Aoi attempts to reach out and reconnect with Dia only for her to refuse. And the pursuit continues.”

Floyd laughs and lays down on his back, staring over at Jade. “I never would’ve guess MC would’ve read this sort of literature…”

“That’s what I’m sayin! They were really into it too.” He laughed.

Jade flipped back to the front, with an intrigued look. “Floyd, do you mind if I give this a read?”

“I don’t care. Actually, how about you give it back to them tomorrow?” He flipped on his side. Jade gave his brother a stare, though he was staring in the other direction, he could sense his twin’s displeasure. “You’re the one who touched it last!”

—

You had been a mess all day. Everyone could tell just by the way you stared at the floor with a melancholy expression that you were not okay. Despite nearly everyone asking, “What happened?” “Are you alright?” “Cheer up!”

You could feel no better.

After all, you were left on a major cliffhanger. Then again maybe it was your fault since you lost the book. You swear you had put it back in your bag!

You went back to the tree after realizing it was gone, but it wasn’t there.

Maybe Floyd took it… You thought with a scowl on your face.

“Damn, what did the floor do to you?” Ace laughed, but he didn’t have a smile.

“You’ve been glaring at the ground for almost the entire lunch.” Deuce said in concern.

Epel pressed a cold drink against your cheek.

“Ah, thank you.” You thanked out of obligation. You took it into your hands but didn’t move to open it.

“Ya better be. Now, are ya finally ready to tell us why yer all glum like a plum.”

The three of them sat besides you. You raised your head and glanced at the three of them. Though you only smiled at Epel’s words. “Glum like a plum? What does that even mean..?” You looked at your drink and he had even gotten you something plum flavored.

Epel held back his words only because he knew you were upset.

There’s no way you could tell them why you were so depressed. “I’m really sad because I was reading this really good manga but I was left on a cliffhanger because I stupidly lost the book and cannot find it”— They’d most likely get mad for worrying them that much over something so minor.

Deuce took the drink from your hands and opened it up for you, handing it back. “Drink something. Maybe it’ll make you feel better?”

You thanked him and took a sip, still wondering if Floyd stole it. That thought was killing you. At that point it was all you could think about. The cliffhanger wasn’t your biggest concern. FLOYD HAS THE BOOK? What if he destroys it? Or maybe he read it and now your image as a sophisticated, mature student is ruined in his eyes?! Or what if he tells other people and your reputation is ruined?

Before you knew it, you had found yourself stomping into Mostro Lounge. Though it was surprisingly empty. There was only one person as far as you saw. You got closer and it turned out to be Jade Leech. Not quite the one you needed to see.

Nonetheless you approached him with a slightly nervous smile. “Hello Jade, do you happen to know where Floyd is?”

He gave you an unreadable stare, “Why are you here? Today is a maintenance day for Mostro Lounge.”

“Is that so…? Well pardon the intrusion but I must know where Floyd is.”

As expected of the Vice Housewarden of Octavinelle, he accommodated your needs. In fact he offered to escort you there.

God bless him! He walked beside you, having a small conversation, just idle chit chat.

“How come you need to see Floyd so badly?”

“It’s just… something’s between us and I think he took something he wasn’t supposed to. Which is why I must go see him!”

You sped up and walked ahead of him. Which was the moment Jade chose to strike. His hand grabbed your wrist and swung you backwards into the wall. It was all very fast, you nearly hit your head.

You blinked as Jade stared down at you. You wanted to ask him what he’s doing but the words just wouldn’t come out.

“I’m sorry. Did you hit your head, love?”

What? Did he just… You must’ve misheard him. But that look on his face. He never looked at you that way before…

“No I didn’t…” You said under your breath. You realized how close he was when he got closer.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you, speak up.” He took his hand that was holding to wrist and moved it to you chin.

“I didn’t hit my head thankfully! Will you take me to Floyd now please?!” You began to slip to the side slowly, trying to get away.

Your heart jumped out of your chest, your eyes widened and you looked to the side to where Jade slammed his hand. You felt the wall shake. You looked back at him slowly but only one word inside your head.

Kaebedon!!

“Before that, I need to ask why you want to see Floyd so badly. You won’t even look me in the eye and you’re running away… to see him?” Jade has that same smile and hint of mischief in his voice. as always.

“I believe he has something that belongs to me so I was going to ask him if it’s whereabouts…!” Your voice strained trying to keep composure.

“Oh my, did he trouble you? I deeply apologize on his behalf. But I think I have what you’re looking for.”

You softened your gaze and mouth opening to explain himself. But soon he reached into his coat with his other hand that was not against the wall.

“Deep into the Heart by Nana F. Hopefully this is what you’ve been searching for.”

You stared blankly at the book, your hands reached out and snatched it from his grasp, which he let you do. You really didn’t have any words for him, mostly out of confusion and intimidation.

“Floyd told me that you left it behind when you ran away from him. He brought it back with him to our dorm after reading it through himself. The premise piqued my interest so I also read it. Hopefully it all makes sense now.”

You understood what he was doing when he did all of that. He was just teasing you. He smiled as he stepped away from you. “Also, Floyd stormed out 30 minutes ago. I’m sure he’s found somebody to amuse himself with by now.”

Now you were just embarrassed, you held the book up to your face to avoid eye contact. You were concerned about Jade and Floyd knowing your taste in literature. The unpredictable nature of the two intimidated you. Surely they wouldn’t tell anyone…

“Thank you Jade. I’m going to head back now.” You turned around and lowered the book.

“Allow me to escort you—“ he cut himself off as you sprinted away.

“No thank you!”

“No running in the lounge!”

[avatar-anna]

hi i know u said u had writers block and i have this idea for a blurb/fic idk if you take requests and please delete this if you hate it BUT i’m terrible at writing and can’t get this idea out of my head, mua/yn and harry are secretly dating, some of the crew figure it out as tour goes on but fans start to notice a girl at every show who’s wearing like subtly matching outfits to harry and that’s how people find out they’re together, i just think it’d be such a cute concept AND maybe H doesn’t realise at first and she won’t tell him till he notices and she gets all shy when he asks her about it 🥺

so, i actually already have a makeup artist!y/n. it was one of the first fics i'd ever written on this page. so i just kinda tried to do a continuation of it here. enjoy!

The Makeup Artist, Vogue Beauty Secrets, Painting H's Nails

"Five more minutes."

"You said that five minutes ago."

Harry pulled back, his swollen lips turned down into a pout. "Do you not want five more minutes? You're hurting my heart, here, lovie."

You giggled and booped Harry's nose before kissing his cheek. "I want all the minutes, baby. But I think I'm also the only one paying attention to how close we're getting to showtime. And I have a job too, you know."

Harry didn't say anything to your attempt at logic, just leaned in again, his nose nudging against yours until he finally kissed you. And even though you knew you should've already been setting up your makeup kit to get the band ready, you let him. It was hard to say no, it was hard to say anything when he kept licking the seam of your lips, urging you to give him what he wanted. You.

And because you were about as obsessed with him as he was with you, you gave in, pushing him deeper into his makeup chair as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Harry grinned into the kiss, satisfied that you gave in.

"I'm gonna get fired for not doing my job," you mumbled a couple minutes later as he kissed his way up to your ear.

"By who? I'm technically the one that hired you," Harry replied with ease.

You rolled your eyes and pulled back just enough to hold his cheeks in your hands. "I have to get you ready."

He huffed. "It's not that much. We could even skip a couple steps. Save some time."

"I don't know about that," you said, brushing away a stray strand of his hair that had fallen in his face. "I was thinking about putting a little glitter on your chest, make it really sparkle under all those bright lights."

"I think you just want an excuse to rub your hands all over my chest."

"Well, duh. I thought that was a given."

As far as gigs went, being Harry's makeup artist was pretty low maintenance. It had been that way from the start, though sometimes you delved into some fun pre-show skincare when he let you. The bulk of your job was mainly with the women of the band, who were more than happy to let you take creative liberties with their makeup each show, though today would have to be on the simple side seeing as Harry was currently holding you hostage in his dressing room.

You were the one who liked to really go all out for your boyfriend's shows. The girls in the Love Band still needed something functional, cohesive, and something that didn't stand out so much since Harry was technically the focal point. So if you had time, you went all out with your own makeup, sometimes matching your eyeshadow or blush to Harry's stage outfits.

As you tried to remove yourself from Harry's lap, his arms tightened around your waist. "Just one more, and then I'm good."

Sighing, you kissed your pouty boyfriend's forehead. "Oh, my love, it's never just one more kiss with you."

*.*

You were waiting for Harry by the side of the stage just before he was meant to go on. Some days you went to the tour bus to catch up on sleep during shows or napped in Harry's dressing room, but recently you'd been staying to watch him perform. You knew he appreciated it, and you enjoyed the high energy of being in the crowd and watching your boyfriend do what he loved (aside from kissing you senseless, of course).

"Is it just me, or are we matching?"

You turned toward where Harry was walking toward you, smiling as he looked you up and down. When he reached you, his arms snaked around your waist, his lips against your temple as he mumbled, "I love it."

Looking down at the denim vest and jeans you were wearing to tonight's show, you said, "What, this old thing? It's just something I threw together."

"I don't know whether I should love or hate how cute you guys are."

Spinning around while remaining in the circle of Harry's arms, you grinned sheepishly at Ny'Oh. "It's a coincidence, I swear."

She laughed and shook her head, not believing you for a minute. "Yeah? And what about all the other times?"

It was no secret that you and Harry were together, though this new leg of the tour came with some new crew members who didn't know Harry was dating Love on Tour's makeup artist. You always blushed furiously any time someone caught you holding hands or having a little lunch date at craft services or sharing a kiss in what you thought was a secret corner or hallway. You preferred to keep things low-key, not wanting to draw too much attention to the fact that you were technically dating your boss, but Harry didn't have any kind of reservations. He was more than comfortable with kissing your cheek and calling you pet names and holding you against his chest in front of everyone. On tour, that is. Outside of the confines of a venue or tour bus, you and Harry both agreed to keep your relationship private for now, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to yourselves.

"I think of it as a challenge," you said to Ny'Oh. "It takes skill to be this subtle yet just on the nose."

"A fine line, if you will," Harry added, grinning from ear to ear.

Shaking your head, you said, "Nope. That was too much. Even for me."

After exchanging a couple more laughs with Harry and the band as they prepared to go onstage, you kissed Harry good luck and left to go find your spot on the floor to watch the show. You preferred to watch with the rest of the audience, though Harry always made sure you were within arm's reach of a security guard at all times. Just in case.

Walking to your spot a few paces from the barricade, you admired the wide array of colorful outfits and costumes fans wore. It was why you loved being in the crowd. Seeing everyone all dressed up in feather boas and sparkly cowboy hats and homemade outfits that matched albums and songs. It was inspiring to see the space Harry's shows created, and to be part of it in a small way.

"Your makeup looks amazing!"

Turning to your right, you saw a group of girls, maybe in their late teens or early twenties. Each of them were dressed in a spectrum of glitter and heart sunglasses and merch, wide smiles on their faces as they waited for Harry to come out.

You'd gone for a pretty tame look. For you, anyway. Simple base makeup with a pretty blue eyeshadow and daisies that lined your crease and just beneath your lash line that took way longer than they should've. But the result was just how you wanted it, so you couldn't really complain.

"Thank you," you said to the girl who spoke. She was dressed in a pair of jeans outlined in sequins, a shirt with Canyon Moon lyrics tucked in as a crop top. She also had her makeup done, her eyes and cheeks decked out in eyeshadow that shifted color in the light. "I like yours too."

You talked to the girls a little while longer, but when the lights died down and the song that signaled the show was about to start came on, the girls quickly said their goodbyes and faced the stage. Still, they were close enough that despite the commotion, you could hear them talking. About you.

"I swear, I've seen her before."

"So? Tons of people go to multiple shows."

"Yeah, but...I don't know. It feels like she's standing separate from the rest of us."

You smiled to yourself and tried to focus on the stage instead of eavesdropping on the conversation about you, which was forgotten the second the opening chords to Daydreaming began. The concert was like all the rest you'd been to, and yet you still weren't sick of it. Seeing Harry's smile and witnessing the sheer joy on his face as he performed made going to show after show well worth it.

And when he was in your section, he was always close enough to make eye contact, even wink as he sang certain lyrics, which would definitely earn him a smack on the arm later. But even so, it made your cheeks flush and your stomach flip with excitement. And Harry, who could read you like a book, grinned as he moved on to a different part of the stage.

"Did you see how he looked at her! He winked!"

"You sound crazy!"

Smiling to yourself, you shook your head. Maybe it was time to watch from backstage for a while.