#also yes that’s a sock she brought into the bed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stylesloveclub · 2 years

Text

Thumper

In which y/n is pretty sure her neighbor hates her, and Harry needs someone to take care of his bunny.

+++

For y/n, the month of December was truly the best part of the year.

She absolutely loved getting into the holiday spirit: whether that meant hanging multi-colored fairy lights around her bed frame, baking snowman shaped cookies for her friends and family, or busting out her reindeer printed fuzzy socks – she loved it all.

And, more importantly, she loved getting three weeks off from school. Winter break meant the end of finals week, which meant no more flashcards waiting to be memorized or textbooks waiting to be annotated. Just pure holiday bliss and seasonal joy.

The only part of the holiday season that y/n wasn’t particularly fond of was New Years.

While many considered the new year to be a “new beginning,” y/n only really thought of it as the official end to her holiday joy. She never really indulged in the thought of new year’s resolutions – in fact, she found them to be quite silly. Why on Earth would someone create a half-hearted promise to themselves, knowing very well that they would give up on their goal one month into the new year? It seemed like a far too disappointing cycle for her.

But this year… this year was different.

The ending of this year also meant that the lease on her current apartment was ending. Now, don’t get her wrong! Y/n doesn’t hate her roommates or anything. She’s actually incredibly close with the three girls that she’d spent the last two years living with, and considers them to be some of her closest friends.

But, as the months went by, y/n realized that a two bedroom, one bathroom flat was far too small for four girls to peacefully coexist in. They were always nagging each other to clean the dishes, fighting over who gets to shower first in their tiny bathroom. And honestly… she was getting really tired of listening to Nia (a business major) rehearse presentations at 3 AM.

So, when y/n timidly mentioned that she was thinking about moving out, the three other girls agreed that their living situation wasn’t the most ideal, promised that they would still remain besties even if they didn’t live with each other, and began to search for their own places so that they could turn in their keys at the end of the year.

For the first time in her life, y/n had a place of her own. And that was honestly the best thing the new year could’ve brought for her.

+++

It’s safe to say that the first morning y/n wakes up in her new apartment is undoubtedly one the most euphoric moments she’s ever experienced.

The window facing her bed allows for the morning sun to light up her room, slowly rousing her from her slumber. She blinks her eyes open, and it takes a moment for her to fully recognize that: no, she’s not dreaming and yes, she’s actually in her new apartment!

She sits up and stretches, flexing her muscles and twisting her back until she hears the delicious sound of her spine cracking – a sign that she’d slept through the night like a baby. Glancing out the window, she notices a little bluebird perched on her balcony’s railing.

Yes, a balcony!

It had actually been one of the main reasons she chose this apartment building. Although it was a rather small balcony, she immediately fell in love with it. The railings were twisted and had a rustic look that reminded her of the balcony Juliet would stand on in a Shakespearian play, and it overlooked a beautiful cobblestone street. When she first saw the balcony during the apartment tour, she immediately envisioned herself spending her mornings out here with a nice cup of tea, maybe doing her assigned readings out in the fresh air. There was just enough room for y/n to make a cozy little nook for herself, with fairy lights strung around railings and fluffy pillows piled on loveseats for her to chill out on.

She scrambles out of her bed and rushes over to the window, smudging the glass with her fingertips as her palms press flat against it. The glass is ice cold to the touch and fogs up around her nose, a sign of how cold the morning air outside must be. Dressed in a pair of flowery sleep shorts and a sweatshirt with her university’s logo embroidered on the front, she’s hardly dressed appropriately – but she slides the glass door open anyway and steps out onto the balcony. She can’t help it, she’s just so excited!

As soon as she slides the door open, the chilly air invades her senses, her lungs burning and legs prickling with goosebumps. She leans her forearms on the railing and looks at the street below, empty of any cars or people. Directly across the street from her building, she sees a small antique store, and right next to that, a cute little cafe with cartoonish snowflakes painted onto the glass windows. Dozens of other restaurants and boutiques line the street, not yet open but anticipating the rush of people that would most likely flood in within the next few hours. y/n makes a mental note to herself to text her ex-roommates and invite them to visit the coffee shop she currently had her eye on.

Yeah, maybe it was a little cold, and maybe there’s nowhere to sit, but honestly, all y/n could think about was how much she loved her brand new balcony in her brand new apartment.

Life couldn’t get any better than this.

+++

Harry isn't too big on New Year’s resolutions.

You see, he’s not fond of forcing himself to do things (the more pressure he has on himself to finish something, the less he wants to do it), and he really doesn’t like dealing with the inevitable end of year disappointment that comes with not finishing what he starts. He knows the chances of him actually going through with his resolutions are quite slim, so he doesn’t find a point in establishing any.

Therefore, he really only has one goal for the upcoming year. Don’t let Thumper die.

Thumper is the love of Harry’s life. When Harry realized just how lonely living alone could get, he decided he needed a companion to love and care for. He had the fullest intentions of going to his local adoption center and befriending a little kitty like Evie (his cat back home) so that the two cats could get along when he visited his family. But, when he stepped into the adoption center and saw Thumper, tiny and frail compared to most bunnies his age, he knew he had found his new best friend.

So really, Harry’s only “resolution” is something he knows he wouldn’t be giving up on any time soon.

As he brews himself a steaming vanilla latte (with a shot of caramel cream on top), he gives Thumper a little bit of food, petting at the bunny’s furry cheeks as he nibbles some hay from his fingers. When he turns away momentarily to pour his brewed coffee into a mug, the rabbit proceeds to thump its clunky hind feet (hence the name), begging to be the center of Harry’s attention once again.

Obviously, Harry could never ignore his bunny’s pleas for love – so he quickly picks up his mug in one hand, and, similar to the way a mother holds their newborn baby, coddles Thumper to his chest with the other. Thumper tends to get uneasy when he’s high up from the ground, usually thumping against Harry’s forearms to display his displeasure, so Harry always makes sure he’s sitting or lying down when cuddling with his bunny. Taking a seat on his pink sofa, he turns the TV on to a random news channel and gently runs his hand up and down Thumper’s back, cooing every time the fluffy bunny twitches his tiny nose with approval.

Once Thumper is happily settled and Harry’s finished with his coffee, he places Thumper back into his comfy den and puts his dirty mug in the sink. Grabbing the watering can from right underneath, he fills the can until he has a suitable amount of water for the flowers he grows on his balcony.

Whistling along to a happy tune (“Whistle While You Work” from Snow White), he steps onto the balcony and takes a deep lung-full of the pristine air. The sky was serene, the morning dew was fresh on the railing, and everything was at peace.

That is, until an unrecognizable voice far too energetic for the tranquil calm of the morning startles him.

“Hi!”

Harry drops the watering can out of surprise and whirls around, yelping out a “bloody hell!” before his eyes land on a stranger.

“Who are you?” he grumbles, putting a hand on his chest to calm his pounding heart, thumping hard from the scare.

The girl’s eyes widen, clearly not having expected to get such a reaction from her neighbor, and she carefully introduces herself, much quieter than the initial greeting she’d just given him. “Umm, I’m y/n. I just moved in.” She flashes him an apologetic smile, “Sorry for scaring you, wasn’t my intention.”

Harry looks down to assess the damage his startle caused. His watering can is on its side, laying in a puddle and steadily leaking out water, while his sock-covered feet are soaked through (one his biggest pet peeves are wet socks).

Looking back up to the girl, he sees her nervously chewing on her lip and fiddling with the hem of her sweatshirt. She seems more scared of him than he had been of her, and very timidly makes eye contact with him, praying that he wouldn’t explode on her.

Harry saves his breath.

“That’s alright,” he responds as nicely as he can muster up (wet socks = grumpy Harry), picking up the watering can from the floor. He runs into his apartment, slipping on a new, dry pair of socks, refilling the watering can, and grabbing a towel to clean up his balcony.

Y/n still has her brows furrowed in distress when he comes back outside, quickly confessing, “I really am sorry… I didn’t mean to make you jump. I was just excited to meet my new neighbor, I guess.”

He doesn’t make eye contact with her when he says, “Don’t worry about it. Everything’s okay. No need to fret,” focusing his attention, instead, on making sure the floors are dry.

“I just moved in yesterday you know! I dunno if you saw all the boxes n’ stuff, but that was me!” Christ, was she still there? He thought she would’ve gone back inside after he gave so little attention to her.

Again, he barely looks in her direction when he responds, “I hadn’t noticed anyone was moving in.” His answer is short, clipped, and uninterested.

The girl carries on the conversation, “Yeah, I’m super excited about moving in and everything! It’s my first time living without anyone and it’s just so nice to have all this space to myself– y’know I made some cookies last night, and I was gonna bring ‘em over later today to introduce myself but since we already met I could totally bring them over–”

Harry cuts her off right there. “Don’t put yourself through the trouble,” he says tersely, sparing her one final glance before walking back into his apartment.

He holds eye contact with her as he slides the balcony door shut.

+++

Y/n’s positive she’s made her neighbor hate her.

She’s drinking coffee with her ex-roommates, Sameera, Savanna, and Nia, at the coffee shop she saw earlier that morning from her balcony window, explaining her conundrum.

“I just don’t know what to do! I didn’t do anything to make him hate me. I mean, except for balcony thing, but obviously I didn’t mean to scare him! He wouldn’t even look at me!”

She tried to make things up to him, greeting him calmly on the balcony the next time they were out there at the same time, but only managed to get the grimest acknowledgement from him. He avoided eye contact with her whenever they passed each other in the hallways, would shut his door if he ever saw her coming out at the same time as him, and would stay silent if they ever got caught in the elevator together.

He hates her, she’s sure of it.

At this point, she’s honestly just given up, opting to just sit with her mug and book silently when he watered his plants on the balcony each morning. Far better than the hurt she’d feel when he’d inevitably ignore her if she tried to make small talk again.

“Maybe he’s got a fragile sense of masculinity and is embarrassed that he got scared by a girl,” Nia says, taking a bite of her croissant, “so now he can’t face you anymore.”

Sameera adds on to that, “Or he’s intimidated by you. Is he ugly? Ugly guys tend to be intimidated by pretty girls.”

Y/n is quick to deny this with a furrow in her brows. “Oh, but he’s not! He was really cute,�� she pouts. Considering his reluctance to make eye contact with her during their short conversation, y/n had plenty of time to unabashedly admire her next door neighbor. He had chocolate brown hair, swept atop his head in messy waves and bright green eyes that glimmered in the dreary, gray morning weather. And though he had an intimidating demeanor, with his short attitude and furrowed brows, the fact that he was wrapped up in a fuzzy, lavender sweatshirt made him ever so endearing to her.

Call her crazy, but she has a bit of a crush.

“What’s his name?” asks Savanna, chiming into the conversation for the first time.

Y/n has to think for a moment before she responds. “I don’t think he even told me! I just said hey and he walked away from me!” She sits back and crosses her arms, huffing sadly, “Maybe this is a sign from the universe that I should just stay away from boys in general.”

“Don’t say that!” Savanna defends, “You’re beautiful and a total sweetheart. Nia’s right, he probably just has a bruised ego for now. Just be yourself and I’m sure he’ll come around.”

+++

Being herself doesn’t work.

Yesterday, when she’d clearly been running with all of her groceries to catch the elevator, he made direct eye contact with her as the doors shut. Made no effort to hold the elevator for her. Just watched her struggle with her groceries as the elevators closed.

Y/n accepts the fact that he’s probably not going to come around.

+++

It’s 10 PM on a Tuesday night when someone comes frantically knocking on y/n’s door.

She’d just been painting in her living room (a casual hobby of hers), dressed in a pair of dark blue, denim overalls splattered with paint, when out of nowhere someone was at her door, knocking as if they were in a life or death situation.

She has no idea who it could be, and is honestly a bit frightened considering this person is pounding on her door so violently, but she hurries over to the door. Peeking out of the peephole, she’s met with a very familiar furrowed brow.

It’s Harry, her next door neighbor. Except, for the first time, he looks more stressed than angry.

She opens the door, a bit embarrassed in her messy painting overalls. She chews on her lip and she stands nervously behind her door, almost as if she’s using it to protect herself. “Hi?” she says timidly, worried about why he might be at her door. Had she done something to make him angry? Was her music too loud or something?

His hair, normally curled atop his head neatly in chocolate colored swirls, now sticks out in every direction as if he’d been running his hands through it constantly, and his eyes are wide and frantic. “My sister…” he pants, out of breath as if he’d run a mile to get here, “She’s in labor. I-I have to go to see her, could you–,” he pauses to catch his breath, chest rising heavily. “Could you please take care of my bunny while I’m gone?”

She blinks for a second. This man, who’d been so cold and mean to her ever since she moved in, was in front of her door… begging her to take care of his bunny?

“Oh!” This was definitely not what she expected when she opened the door and saw Harry standing there. She thought that he was for sure about to yell at her for something, tell her to turn the music down or blow out her candles because he could smell them from his apartment.

This, however… this she could work with. Maybe it would make him finally come around.

“Yes!” she exclaims, after a second. “Oh my gosh, yes, of course! What do you need me to do?”

His shoulders sag with relief. “Thank you,” he says gratefully, letting out a deep breath. He knows that he hasn’t necessarily been the nicest to her and had been worried that she might tell him to fuck off (rightfully so), but he was desperate, and thankfully… she’s an angel.

He ushers her into his apartment, which (as respectfully as she can put it) looks like a tornado has just passed through it. A pile of unopened mail sits on his kitchen counter, abandoned in his rush to get packed, and what seems to be his dinner sits half eaten on his dinner table, fork thrown onto the table next to his plate with a piece of broccoli still hanging onto it. A lone suitcase sits in the middle of his living room, piled with clothes that aren’t folded – just haphazardly thrown in there. It’s abundantly clear that he’s been frantically rushing around his apartment, trying to pack all his stuff together while also figuring out what to do with Thumper.

“Sorry for the mess,” he apologizes over his shoulder, double checking that she’s still within earshot with how fast he’s running around into his apartment. “I-I wasn’t planning on having to go see her so soon, she’s not due for another three weeks,” he rambles, messily shoving a pant leg into his suitcase as he zips it up. “But then she called, and she’s all alone, and–” he looks up at her with wide, earnest eyes, “I just have to be there for her.”

“Hey, don’t be sorry,” she says gently. “I totally get it. It’s no problem.”

He stares at her for a second, eyes flickering between hers, a soft look in his eye. It seems like he’s about to say something– but he stops himself. Instead, he walks over to a large bunny playpen, filled with hay and piles of soft blankets and towels.

Sitting atop one of those worn-out blankets is a fluffy white bunny, nibbling softly on a piece of hay. Harry reaches in and gently picks the little bunny up, who fits perfectly in the palm of his hand. “This is Thumper,” Harry introduces softly, his finger gently petting along the little bunny’s back. “Thumper, this is y/n. She’s gonna take care of you while I'm gone.” The little bunny’s nose twitches softly, chewing on his hay mindlessly.

Y/n doesn’t know what she expected from Harry, but it definitely wasn’t this. From all of her interactions with him, he just seemed so cold and mean and intimidating! But watching him pet his little bunny that sits so peacefully in his large, tattooed hands… hearing him talk to this tiny ball of white fur as if it’s a real person… well it just makes Harry look like a bit of a softie, to be honest. It’s a side of her grumpy neighbor that she never could’ve imagined.

“Hi Thumper,” she coos, taking a timid step forward. “You’re just the cutest thing in the world.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Harry says proudly, a soft dimple in his cheek as he smiles down at his bunny that he loves so much.

Passing Thumper over to her, he maneuvers her hands so that the bunny is resting comfortably. “He likes to be held like this,” he instructs, his hands brushing against hers, “On his stomach, so he can look around. Sometimes he gets a bit nervous when he’s too high up from the ground for a long time, so if he starts thumping that just means he wants to be put down again.”

She nods, copying the way he’d been holding Thumper to the best of her ability. The bunny feels so small and fragile in her hold and she’s terrified of hurting him – but Thumper just twitches his nose gently, completely unaffected by whatever is going on around him.

“This is where he sleeps and spends most of his time,” Harry continues, pointing down at the little den of blankets. “But if you can, try to take him outside for at least an hour everyday. I made the balcony bunny proof and there’s a little grassy area out there with all his toys, so just let him hop around there for a bit. Maybe hang out with him if you can, he’s really playful. It’s just really important for his health, to be outside and have some playtime.”

He puts his hands on his hips and stares at his bunny, who seems totally content in y/n’s arms. A weight is lifted off his shoulders, seeing that Thumper feels comfortable in the arms of this half-stranger. It makes him feel a little less guilty for having to leave him so suddenly.

Harry checks the clock. “Shit!” he cries, gathering his bearings once more. His sister lives almost two hours away, so he needs to leave now.

She follows him, Thumper still in his arms, as he scrambles towards the kitchen. “This is his food,” he says, pulling out a bag of leafy, green vegetables – a nice mix of lettuce, kale, cabbage, and parsley – from his fridge. “Give him a bowlful of these veggies twice a day. He’s not on a really strict schedule, just give him some whenever you have breakfast and dinner. And you saw, he has a bunch of hay in his cage too, which he snacks on all day, so it’s okay if you’re a little late.”

He’s running around his apartment, grabbing things and shoving them into his suitcase at the last minute, and calling out instructions to y/n as fast as he can – frantic, stressed out, with absolutely no time to waste. Y/n watches him with wide eyes, absorbing everything he says, while Thumper sits in her arms quietly completely unbothered by Harry’s frantic bustling.

“Um, if he’s being annoying or thumping or anything like that, give him a treat – they’re in this jar – and he’ll probably calm down. I’m pretty generous with the treats ‘cos he’s just such a good bunny, but also he needs to watch his diet, so I’d limit him to like… 10-12 pellets per day.”

He runs to the living room and picks up his suitcase, dragging it to the door frantically while still spewing out instructions. “He loves cuddling, and he’s a really good bunny so you can leave him on the couch or on my bed and he won’t like– chew anything up. And if it gets really cold at night he has a heating pad in his playpen, just put it in the microwave for a minute or two, and he’ll get on top of it if he wants.”

“Here’s my number if you need anything,” he says, scribbling down his phone number onto one of the abandoned pieces of mail sitting on his kitchen counter. “That’s a three, I know it doesn’t look like it, sorry!” He slams the pen down on the counter and runs into his bedroom, then hurries back out with a backpack, filled to the brim with all his toiletries and other essentials. What seems to be his phone charger hangs out of the front pocket, just about ready to pop out and fall to the ground, but he shoves it in and somehow manages to zip up the overstuffed bag.

“Okay,” he sighs, letting out a deep breath. Now that he’s all packed up and ready to go, he lets himself slow down for a second. He takes a look around to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything, then turns around to face y/n. Thumper looks up at Harry with his cute little eyes.

“Alright bud, I gotta go,” he whispers quietly, petting the bunny’s cheeks. “Be good, okay?” He leans forward and presses a little kiss against Thumper’s forehead, his cheek brushing against y/n’s arm, who still has Thumper coddled to her chest.

“I should be back soon,” he says to y/n, looking at her with gentle eyes. “Thank you again, for taking care of him. I know it’s all last minute.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she says with a smile.

Harry smiles back at her softly. The first time she’s ever seen him look at her with a smile. It makes her heart flutter happily, one step closer to making her neighbor stop hating her.

“Here’s the key to my apartment. I… I’ve got to go now. But text me if anything happens.”

With a final deep breath and a pat on Thumper’s head, Harry heads out the door and runs to the elevator.

And then it’s just y/n and Thumper, alone in Harry’s apartment.

Who would’ve thought.

+++

Y/n doesn’t really have much experience with bunnies… but she imagines that if she were a bunny and her bunny Dad randomly left her with a stranger in the middle of the night, then she’d be a pretty stressed out bunny.

Luckily, Thumper seems pretty relaxed.

After Harry left, she just put him back into his playpen and watched him chew on some hay and relax on his comfy pile of blankets. She warmed up his heating pad, just as Harry instructed, but Thumper didn’t even need it. He just headed to bed like a good little bunny and went through the night peacefully, with only the occasional twitch of his nose and a little scuffle as if he were having a rabbit dream.

Just to be safe, y/n spent the night on Harry’s couch, sleeping right next to Thumper’s little pen just in case he started thumping in the middle of the night and needed some attention. In the morning, she scuttled back to her apartment to make herself a quick breakfast, then hurried back to give Thumper his morning veggies. And in the time that she’d normally spend reading on her own balcony, she instead went out onto Harry’s balcony and watched as Thumper happily hopped around in the grass and played with his little bunny toys.

She runs into very little problems while bunny-sitting for Harry, and actually finds herself particularly fond of this fluffy little creature. But she wonders, even if she has no questions for Harry, should she still send him a text? He left her his number in case she had any questions, but he’d probably wouldn’t mind an update text either? I mean… if she were a Bunny Dad and she had to randomly leave her bunny in the middle of the night, then she’d probably want to know that her bunny was safe and happy!

After much overthinking and lots of nervous pacing around Harry’s kitchen, she decides to send him a text. A simple, “Hi, it’s y/n!” accompanied with a cute picture of Thumper, chomping on some lettuce with his floppy ears hanging cutely and his big eyes glimmering. She then follows it with another text, saying that they just ate some breakfast together and went out on the balcony for some morning playtime.

She throws her phone down after she sends the text, beyond nervous to be sending messages to the grumpy neighbor that had scared her for so long. She jumps when her phone chimes with a message less than a minute later, apologizing to Thumper who gives an annoyed thump, as if he’s telling her to stop being so dramatic.

“How’s he behaving?” reads Harry’s response.

“Like an angel!” she says. “Slept through the night without any thumping and had lots of fun playing in the grass.”

“Good,” he texts back, and she thinks that’s the end of it. But after a minute another message comes through. “Give him an extra treat from me, he deserves it :)”

A smiley face! Who knew grumpy Harry knew how to use smiley faces.

She sends back a picture of Thumper with his treat. And a smiley face for good measure.

+++

Harry comes back home five days later.

He’d managed to make it to the hospital just in time. His sister had been in active labor on her own for about four hours at that point, and spent another four hours in excruciating pain once Harry got there. His mum arrived around 45 minutes after he did, and Miles (his sister’s husband, aka the father of this child), arrived last, only about 30 minutes before she was fully dilated and ready to start pushing.

All of them had scrambled to make it there on time, considering how unexpected and early his sister went into labor. He’s just thankful that Miles and his Mum were there too, so that he wouldn’t have to be the one holding her hand while she pushed (as supportive as he wanted to be, he had to leave the room or else he would’ve passed out).

The baby did come a bit early, but after a few tests the doctors said that she was fine, just a bit smaller than usual! They spent the night in the hospital, just to be safe, and were discharged to go home as a happy little family the next morning.

Harry and his mum stayed with Gemma and Miles in their cozy little for a few days, helping around the house while the new parents rested and recovered. Harry helped with the finishing touches of the nursery and went out shopping for extra diapers and baby toys, while his mom cooked homey meals for her kids and tutted over her new granddaughter.

It was nice for them to be all together again, celebrating the newest addition to their happy family, but after a few days the guilt of being away from Thumper for so long was growing too heavy. His mum promised to stay with Gemma and make sure that she’s recovering well, and with a kiss to his newborn baby niece, he headed back home to his precious baby bunny.

He unlocks his door, dragging his suitcase in behind him, and faintly hears a soft, sweet voice from inside. He abandons his suitcase and tiptoes closer and closer to the voice. He finds y/n, out on his balcony with Thumper.

“You are so cute!” she says to Thumper, sitting on her knees and rolling a little ball towards him, which Thumper nudges back with his nose. “I wish I could give you another treat, but your Dad said not to give you too many… I dunno though, should we break the rules a little bit? One extra treat since you’re being such a good bunny?”

Thumper’s nose twitches excitedly, as if he knows that she’s about to reward him with another treat, and Harry’s heart flutters in his chest. This scene – y/n, talking to his little bunny as if he’s a real person, coddling him and giving him treats – it’s a bit endearing. He tries to stop the soft smile growing on his face, to ignore the fuzzy feeling in his tummy… but he can’t help it. He’s endeared.

He tries to casually lean against his couch and watch the scene for a few more moments, but he accidentally knocks a pen off of his coffee table, making y/n yelp and turn around. “Oh!” she bubbles, “Hi Harry!”

He straightens himself out and clears his throat, wiping the silly smile off his face and trying to come off as neutral as possible. “Hello,” he says, with a polite nod of his head.

“How was your sister? Did you have a nice trip?” “Y-yeah it was good, thanks,” he twists his hands nervously behind his back. “She had a little baby girl. Healthy and happy. It was really nice.”

Y/n’s eyes round out, a soft glimmer in them. “Oh, I’m so happy to hear that.”

He ignores the fluttering in his stomach, and wipes away the nervous sweat of his hands onto his pants. “Um– How was Thumper?”

“A right angel!” she exclaims, picking Thumper up and handing him over to Harry. “Wish I could steal him from you. If you ever need me to watch him again, don’t be afraid to ask, I loved hanging out with him.”

Harry can’t help the dimple that pops out on his cheek, blushing slightly at her kind words and pretty smile. “I– Really, I can’t thank you enough.”

“No worries, honestly! Just don’t be a stranger,” she says, a playful glimmer in her eye.

+++

The next morning, sitting on her balcony with her mug in hand, she watches anxiously as Harry steps out of his apartment with his watering can.

Would things go back to normal, with him ignoring her and hating her and pretending she doesn’t exist? Or… has he finally come around?

She holds her breath as he slides his balcony open. He looks at her. She looks at him.

He breaks a smile. “Good morning,” he says, dimple in cheek.

She exhales.

“Good morning, Harry,” she responds with a grin.

+++

Y/n hates thunderstorms.

She hates the sound of thunder, hates how loud and unexpected it is. Hates how her entire body trembles when thunder crashes outside her window, hates how she can feel it shake her apartment. And lightning… don’t even get her started on lightning! She has a recurring nightmare that she’s sound asleep, only to be woken up by electrocution ‘cos the lightning bolt decided her bed was the perfect place to land.

Now, when she lived in her old apartment, she was lucky enough to have amazing roommates who would comfort her during really bad storms. She could sit and talk with Sameera until the storm passed, watch a movie with Savanna to block out the sounds of thunder. Sometimes, if the storm was really bad, Nia would even cuddle y/n to sleep so that she’d calm down. Y/n would bury herself in her roommate’s loving arms, hiding her face in Nia’s chest as she willed away the anxiety attacks and tried not to cry every time she felt the rumbling thunder outside.

Now that she lives on her own, however, she has nobody to comfort her.

She thought it’d be fine, told herself that she’s far too grown to still be hiding in her closet whenever it rained a little bit outside! So she climbed into her bed, snuggled herself under her blankets, and turned on a movie, ignoring the storm outside to the best of her ability. With her pretty fairy lights turned on, her favorite movie playing (Pride and Prejudice 2005), and her headphones blocking out all the thunder, she was 100% confident that she’d be able to get through the night all on her own!

That is… until the power went out.

Her movie paused, her heater went silent, and her fairy lights suddenly turned off. She tried to turn on the main light in her room, but the light switch flicked on and off with no effect. Same with her desk lamp, and the light in her bathroom. Everything was pitch black.

Sitting in the dark, with only flashes of lightning to illuminate her room… it was terrifying for y/n.

She scrambled to turn on the flashlight on her phone, and felt her heart drop when she saw that she was only at 9%. How was she going to survive the night without her phone? She rushes around, trying to see if she has any extra flashlights or candles… but her emergency flashlight has no batteries, and although she has a wide variety of candles to choose from… she has no matches in her new apartment.

She’s thoroughly fucked.

A bolt of lightning strikes outside, followed by a crash of thunder that makes y/n yelp and fall to the floor. She’s on the verge of tears, with nowhere to turn and nothing to comfort her… when she gets a text.

Harry: Everything alright in your apartment?

Her hands tremble as she types out a response.

Not really :( she responds. trying to find a flashlight or something but im having no luck and my phones gonna die soon :(

Another rumble of thunder shakes her apartment. She closes her eyes and tries to regulate her breathing with shaky inhales and whimpery exhales.

Harry responds a minute later.

Do you want to come over to mine?

+++

PART 2 IS ALREADY POSTED ON PATREON :) HOPE U LOVE EM!!!!

#harry styles fic #harry fic #harry smut #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry writing #harry blurb #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shots #harry one shot #grumpy!harry #mean!harry #meanrry #grumpyrry

1K notes · View notes

cherriesformatt · 7 months

Text

baby blues || matt sturniolo part 4

matt x fem!reader

summary: you bring your baby home but nothing feels like it should you try your best to hide your feelings from matt but that never works because he knows his girl...

warnings: postpartum depression, sad, mood swings, kind of angst

word count: 1,4k

a/n: I think that might be the last part but idk let me know! Also thank you for almost 200 followers that's crazy!

🍒

The day we brought Noa home was one of the hardest days in my life. I barely could walk, I was hurting and bleeding a lot. My body was sore and didn't look like my body at all. The amount of people in our house gave me so much head ache. I was glad that everyone came and our moms are here. They cooked and bonded together even if they did not see each other before in real life. My mom did flight from Europe to be with us for two weeks so she could help.

I was so tired but I could not sleep. I was so scared something will happen to Noa. I tried my best to smile and talk to everyone so Matt would not get even more worried.

The moment I started to worry myself was that the feeling never left. Two weeks passed and I felt like I was living in someone else's body. I did not feel like myself. I was feeling so exhausted and guilty.

I would find myself having panic attacks in the middle of the night or day and hid hid in the bathroom also no-one would know.

Matt was so natural about all the baby stuff. Changing her diapers, feeding her, putting clothes on her. I was so scared that I was doing everything not to do all of this.

Today I barely even held her in my arms. I did not want to.

It was her bedtime. Matt gave her a bath while I got ready her pajamas and everything on the changing table.

"Don't forget her monitoring sock" I said watching him getting her ready to bed. She looked so small in her sleep swaddle.

"I know baby... I already did, she is all good and ready. Do you want to try to feed her today?" He looked at me with small smile.

I shook my head quickly and pointed at the bottle on the stand next to the rocking chair.

Whole pregnancy I was thinking I am going to feed her but I couldn't I only pumped so she could use a battle. I was scared she is going to choke and it is going to be my fault.

"Okay... that's okay I am going to feed her and put her down" He said as I left the room.

I checked on my phone if the camera and sock monitor were working and went down the stairs.

I started cleaning after dinner. My plate was almost full. I did not feel hungry those days. I made myself to eat so I had enough supplies for the baby.

"Hi... y/n..." Matt walked into the kitchen looking at me while I was putting last dishes away.

He looked tired and worried. Bags under his eyes bigger than usual. But he looked good. His outfit was nice, his hair was fresh and he smelled nice. I felt like a crap next to him.

"She's asleep?" I asked looking at my phone to check on the baby.

"Yes, she is all okay... Baby we need to talk" He put my phone down and connected our fingers together. The other hand rested on my cheek and he stroked it gently.

"Look at me..." He said and I did.

"What's wrong sweet girl? You hurting... I can see it but I can't help if you don't talk to me..." He said not sure how to start this conversation.

"How did you..." I wanted to ask but he interrupted me.

"Of course I know... do you think I don't see you constantly worried, you barely even sleep. I hear your crying...I just.. I didn't know what to do, how to help you. But I can't look at it anymore. Y/n you don't even hold her anymore..." He says, his eyed watered.

"She needs you the same as she needs me... fuck she needs you more. I am trying my best so you could recover. But I can't do it by myself baby... tell me what's wrong" He holds me and I do not know what to say.

I feel my body started to shake and I started to cry. I felt awful. So selfish and like the worst mother.

" Shh... I'm sorry... I shouldn't say that..." He regrets starting the conversation after I broke into pieces in front of him for the first time.

" No... you are right... Im the worst mother in the world" I said stepping away from him.

"That is not true baby" He put his hands on my hips and he looked at me with worry.

"Oh but it is... you do all of it... so smooth.... I can’t even hold her without being scared I hurt her...I can't even look her in the eyes because I hate myself Matt" I said really quiet.

" Honey..." he started and I couldn't help myself I just cried.

I felt his sarong arms around my body. He picked me up and moved us to the couch. He held me close to him on his lap and kissed my temple.

"Sh....I m so sorry you are feeling this way...I want to help you baby... but I do not know if I can...how can I help" She whispered and stroke my back rocking us.

He waited for me to calm down and when I did I looked at him.

"I'm sorry Matt.. I am so sorry for everytung... I love you both so so much but I can't... I can't do it Matt... I am so scared.... " I said.

"I am here baby... We are going to get through it together okay?" He brushed my hair from my face with his fingers.

"I think I need help..." I said first time ever thinking about it out loud.

He kissed my head again and nodded.

I started attending meetings in the same week. With small steps and with Matt by my side. I felt better and better. I started to be happy and started spending time with Noa without feeling guilty all the fucking time.

" Hi mama...." Matt said holding Noa in his brothers kitchen when I walked in.

That was a month from our conversation. Noah was 1,5 months old. She was healthy and happy. The best baby in the whole world.

"Hello everyone... How was work day with daddy? Did you scream so everyone would find out about you?" I kissed Noa's little nose and Matts lips. He laughed at what I said. The boys waved at me.

"She did not... still daddy's little secret but a hungry one" He said.

"But we needed to start filming three times because I couldn't stop staring at her" Chris said.

They both loved Noa so much but she was a soft spot for Chris. I already know he is going to spoil her so much.

"I know I know let me wash my hands first" I went to the sink, washed my hands and took her into my arms.

"Please no boobs showing out here" Nick said and I rolled my eyes.

"Not for free... I am going to Matts room and then you can show me the video?" I look at Nick.

"Yes! I am so exited" He said.

I went to feed little miss. It felt great to be able to do it and enjoy it. Thanks to that I feel like it helped me to built the connection I lost with my baby blues. This month was hard for me but I finally see the sun. She was in front of me this whole time but now I can fully enjoy and embrace being a mom. I know that after this I will be never scared to ask for help ever again.

" I missed you..." I kissed her head after she is done eating and fix my bra and shirt and walked back to the kitchen.

"We're ready!" I said walking to the boys on the couch.

Nick started to play the video when I sat next to Matt. It was mix of me being pregnant and little video of our photoshoots during pregnancy and at the end there was a black screen with little Noa crying after she was born.

We decided that it is time to share the news with the world. We do not want to show her face but we do want the world to know about her.

"Lets do it..." I said and wiped my tears of happy memories from my cheeks.

" Yes... lets do it" Matt kissed me on the lips and I smiled even more.

" I love you..."I said and she smiled as well.

"I love you both to the moon and back" He hugged me and kissed Noas head.

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

212 notes · View notes

charmante-mp3 · 3 months

Text

Easier

-- Day 9; Stockings (Song Mingi x Fem!Reader)

The people called for Mingi, and so I deliver to you, Song Mingi. And yes, this is from my Kinktober prompt from last year- This is also halfway edited, ending might feel a little rushed? Idk I'll come back to this... maybe. - Kinktober ML Main ML Warnings; Fem-bodied reader, she/her pronouns, squirting, m! and f! oral receiving/giving, unprotected sex (only allowed in reading don't do irl!), thigh-riding/fucking, reader flashes Mingi on accident oops- 1.6k

Y/n looked herself up and down in the mirror, not knowing how she felt about the fabric adorning her legs. A few weeks back, she and her friends went shopping just before settling for drinks. A now monthly routine they had slowly accustomed to. On that night, when she was home the girl haphazardly threw the bags in a corner of her room. Only remembering the new items thirty minutes ago. She sat on her bed, pant less, with nothing but a cream colored sweater and a brand new pair of white stockings. Y/n had purchased many types of stockings in the past, ranging from boring long black socks to pink ones with bows adorning the edges. However, her plush thighs spilling over the top now occupied her thoughts.

The bitter silence was the first thing Mingi noticed when he walked into the girls home. Usually, the TV was playing or maybe music but not one noise sounded through the house. Did she forget he was headed over? Mingi began to think she was gone and headed to lounge on her couch. He stopped mid-way hearing a loud sigh come from the hallway leading towards her room.

“Y/n, you here?” Mingi’s loud voice tore the girl away from her thoughts, completely forgetting entirely what she was just doing.

“Yeah, I’m in my room,” She yelled back at him, his footsteps now making way towards her open door.

“Hey, what 'cha doin’?” Mingi’s head peaked in, his newly dyed platinum hair shining in the sun that peeked through her window.

“I forgot about these new clothes I bought, for some reason I don’t know if I like these new socks,” She looked down at her legs with a confused glare in her eyes. Mingi’s eyes trailed down her figure, breath hitching at the white, lacy stockings. The lace at the top kept bunching together as her thighs pushed over the tight section that stopped mid thigh. Mingi’s hands bunched together as he quickly brought his eyes back to her face. Stopping the thoughts of his large hands gathering the soft skin.

“I think they look fine,” He said after shamelessly clearing his throat. The poor girl was just as clueless as Mingi sometimes. Like in this situation, both are clueless to the effect they have on each other. Y/n’s new item flutters something in Mingi’s stomach and his complement makes way to hers.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. They’re kind of itchy,” The girl lifted her leg to start removing the increasingly uncomfortable stockings. In this process, accidentally flashing the man in her room.

“Oh my god Y/n,” Mingi’s eyes flew shut at what he saw and the sudden air flow in her lower area reminded her, she wasn’t wearing and pants or underwear.

“Mingi I’m so sorry,” Her legs flew down, a blush flushing her cheeks. In different circumstances she wouldn’t have minded, but this was an accident. There’s no telling how uncomfortable Mingi was right now.

“Can I please say something, you can hate me, think I'm gross and everything but you have such a pretty pussy,” Mingi’s hands flew to his face, a fire building up his neck as he rambled. Those words dug a deeper pit into Y/n’s stomach. Mingi was always prone to complimenting the girl, it was his second nature, but those words took this situation a bit further.

“You can get a better look if you’d like Mingi,” Her words came out barely above a whisper. Mingi’s eyes popped open, his pants growing increasingly tighter.

“I can?” He asked breathlessly. His hands grew clammy, his heart pounding at his chest. With a nod of her head and the slow opening of her legs, the tall male quickly walked over and dove down to her. He hovered over her face before dropping to her increasingly wet pussy, shoving his face into her, inhaling the sweet smell of her sex.

“Fuck,” Mingi growled, feeling pre-cum gather in his boxers. He couldn’t worry about that right now, all he wanted was a taste.

“Can I taste you?” Mingi asked, his breath airing over her cunt.

“Please,” She whined at the male, one of her hands flying to his hair as his lips came in contact with her clit.

“Fuck me, Mingi!” His pace was relentless. Her high was coming embarrassingly fast with the way he sucked and rolled his tongue around her clit. The pleasure was numbing her thighs, unable to feel the forming bruises Mingi brought upon them. Cream coated Mingi’s tongue as she came, but he didn’t stop or slow down. She clenched around nothing when his tongue occasionally slipped inside, curling around and slipping out returning to the torture on her clit.

“Mingi!” She gasped at him, her high increasing even after just cumming. Her back arched, pushing Mingi away as a clear liquid coated his face. He let out a loud groan, grasping his clothed cock as she covered him in her essence. His once light grey tee now darkened around his neck, cum covering his face. Mingi looked down at the dazed girl, her breathing labored as she came down from her high. Y/n looked down to see Mingi palming himself and with that she weakly pushed herself up, which caught Mingi’s attention.

“Wanna make you feel good,” She said, replacing his hands with her own. Her hands softly pulled at his sweats and Mingi lifted himself, allowing her to pull out his desperate cock. A pathetic whine left his lips as her thumb met the tip, running it along the slit and wiping away the pre-cum stuck to it. His head flew back as she slid her hand further and took him down her throat. Mingi was long just as he was thick, popping him from her mouth she allowed spit to fall from it. Using the spit to jerk the other half of him she couldn’t fit in her mouth. His hands found a refugee wrapped in her hair. His stomach clenched as her throat swallowed around him, his high growing near. His hips twitched as he filled her throat with cum, pushing himself farther down her throat in the process. Y/n pushed his thighs, his cock and cum flooding out with a grotesque gurgle.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Mingi rushed to the girl, but she grabbed his hands.

“Mingi I need you to fuck me, please,” Her voice was hoarse and it drove him crazy.

“Keep those on,” He grunted in her ear. Her hands stopped fiddling with the long socks covering most of her plush thighs. Mingi then picked her up and flipped them around. Her bare cunt now flushed against his bare thigh.

“Fuck yourself on it,” Mingi’s eyes met hers as he guided her hips around his thigh. He groaned at her slick coating his thigh, small mewls now left the girls throat as Mingi continued a slow pace. Then he tensed his thigh, pushing her further into him.

“Mingi,” Y/n whined, she wanted more unfortunately Mingi wanted to see the girl fall apart one more time before she came on his cock. His lips came in contact with her neck, before deciding he was tired of her cute sweater. He pulled it off and in return she pulled at his while still grinding on his thigh. As she worked herself, Mingi removed his own shirt allowing her to run her fingers down his chest. The action caused him to shiver as her nails scratched his abdomen. Lips had now found their way back to her neck trailing down to her breast. As Mingi kneaded at one, his mouth enveloped the other one rolling his tongue around it just as he did to her clit moments before.

“Mingi, i’mma cum again,” The girl above him cried, throwing her head back as she continually fucked herself on his large thigh. He could feel her wetness run down his leg and his cock was red and hard all over again from watching her use him.

“Cum on my thigh baby, you’re doing so well for me,” His deep voice rang in her ears, she chanted his name like a mantra as she chased her next high. Her eyes rolled back and her body seized, cumming on the blonde male once again. Before she was able to regain a normal state, she was placed below Mingi. He had propped her waist on a pillow before pressing himself along her back.

“You’ll tell me to stop if it hurts, right? I need words baby,” He voiced into her ear.

“I will,” Y/n’s voice sounded almost gone as she spoke. It was raspy and shaky, Mingi wondered what she’d sound like once he was done filling her. Mingi rubbed his cock through her folds before slowly pushing into the girl. Y/n moaned as he stretched her out perfectly ruining her cunt for anyone else.

“So full,” She moaned as Mingi bottomed her out. Mingi’s mind was in shambles trying not to move as she clenched around him, but he needed her to move first. It was only mere seconds before Y/n’s body wiggled back to him encouraging him to move. He held himself a little longer letting out a guttural moan he towered over her, watching her increasingly fuck herself on his cock. Mingi’s patience snapped as he grabbed the girl's wrist, pinning them above her as he roughly pounded his cock into her weeping pussy. Y/n could no longer form words, just loud moans as Mingi’s hand made his way to her swollen clit. The constant pleasure building in her stomach caused her to shake at her final orgasm. Her pussy pushed out Mingi’s cock and squirted once again, now coating the male's lower half.

At this point, Mingi didn’t know if she could handle another one so he pushed her thighs together, using the previous liquids to fuck her soft thighs. Mingi came, his seed running down onto her plush covers and brand new stockings.

“Well, if it makes you feel better I don’t think you’ll be able to wear these stockings again,” -

78 notes · View notes

abiiors · 6 months

Text

under the cherry blossoms - george x reader ˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧💌˚.⋆🌿

a/n: this isn't intentionally a george birthday fic but i'm honestly very happy with the coincidence. happy birthday to my sweetie pumpkin pie sugar plum fairy boy 🤭🤍 cw: brief mentions of being sick, like vomit etc. and a lot of sappy fluff, some smut but not very detailed and explicit. this is sooooooo cheesy ugh wc: 3.3k

it’s hits him first when he surprises her with the tickets as a christmas present—tickets to japan for the coming spring. tickets to see the cherry blossoms that she’s been dying to see ever since george showed her a few photos of him and the band in japan, laughing under the cherry blossoms, surrounded by pink petals.

her eyes go round at the sight of the tickets, lingering on the destination again and again until her brain catches up with exactly what’s happening. then she grins so wide that she can’t quite keep her eyes open and tackles george into a hug until he’s on the floor and she’s on top of him, kissing his whole face and mumbling thank you over and over again.

george hugs her tightly and laughs at her excitement.

it hits him then—he should buy a ring.

for weeks he pesters matty about it, then ross, then adam. adam, naturally, seems to have the most credibility on this matter, he’s the only one of them who’s ever made it to the marriage stage. george has a million and one questions about it, and a million and one anxious thoughts that just won’t seem to go away.

“what if she hates the ring!”

“she loves you, she’ll love the ring you get her.”

“yeah but what if i blow it and say all the wrong things?!”

“have you ever done that in the past?”

“uh… no.”

and this is where adam’s patience runs thin.

ultimately, george is told to calm down, breathe, and pick a ring he thinks she’ll like. george knows her like the back of his own hand—knows her likes and dislikes and pet peeves, knows the weird ribena flavours she prefers. he even knows that she is a little superstitious about broken mirrors and spilt salt but gets huffy when it’s brought up (mostly by george in a fond, teasing way)

suffice it to say, george knows her. inside and out.

and so decides to get his shit together, and get her the most perfect ring he’s ever seen.

ring tucked safely in george’s suitcase, they land in tokyo three days before his birthday.

now that he’s over all his nervousness, george can’t contain the fucking excitement he’s felt for the past few weeks—it’s been an almost impossible task to keep the ring hidden from her at home. the sock drawer is out of question, along with every other tiny nook and cranny in the house because george knows how thorough she gets about spring cleaning. he has to resort to handing the ring to adam for safe-keeping.

and sure it’s mostly so she won’t find it by accident, but also because he doesn’t want to give into the intimacy of the moment and propose on a whim.

he wants it to be grand—champagne and candles and roses (or well… cherry blossoms). he wants it to be memorable.

they get the hotel check-in sorted—well george does anyway while she bounces on the balls of her feet next to him, too excited to care about any tiredness or jet lag.

it’s blissful, it’s perfect—that’s how he’d describe the first two days they spend there. so far it’s been exactly what he wanted—relaxing and exciting. the ring burns a hole in his suitcase though. every time he grabs something from it, he can’t resist swiping his fingers over the velvet box stashed in the corner, almost like his brain is trying to confirm over and over again that the ring is indeed there.

at night when she goes to bed, george rehearses his speech in his head.

you’re the love of my life… no! too fucking cheesy, and he’s stating the obvious.

i’ve thought of marrying you for… no! he can’t bring it up in the first fucking line, not before he actually pops the question. that’s meant to be for the after.

i love you, i love everything about you… yes, okay, yes! now he’s going somewhere. that’s what he should do—keep it sweet and simple and real. keep it genuine. and so he repeats all of it in his head over and over again, smiling wide each time when he imagines her reaction.

his mind’s come up with a thousand different scenarios—outcomes of all the little details. would she cry? (yes) would she squeal and jump? (also yes)

would she say yes? (he really fucking hopes so)

his actual birthday is out of the question. george knows she’s a firm believer in not proposing on other special occasions—so no christmas, no birthdays, and absolutely not someone else’s wedding.

besides, he just wants to have a good birthday without being all nervous and jittery about it.

on the day of, he wakes up to balloons. tonnes of them. he doesn’t even know when she’s had the time to blow them all up and arrange them in the room and order room service breakfast in bed with cherry blossoms in a small vase but george feels warmth spread through his whole body.

how did he get so lucky?

“happy birthday!” she squeals the moment she realises he’s awake. her excitement is palpable, her huge smile infectious. george pulls her tightly into his arms and kisses her softly.

he mumbles a quiet thank you too, murmured against her lips so he won’t have to pull away a lot.

she’s the one who deepens the kiss, dragging her tongue over his lip and nipping at it until his fingers dig into her hips out of sheer desperation. she fits so perfectly against him, like the last piece of a puzzle. made just for him.

she groans into the kiss and his hand travels down, grabbing and squeezing her ass until she wraps her legs around his waist and gets on top. all traces of sleep leave him in an instant.

george sits up as much as he can. his kisses turn feverish as his lips move along the hollow of her throat, her collarbone.

“my sweet, sunshine girl,” he smiles along her skin, words spoken in a low whisper that make her shiver and squeeze her legs around him.

his mouth travels lower, ghostly kisses trailed to as much of her cleavage as her top offers.

“george,” her fingers tighten on his shirt, “please, i need—fuck, need you.”

“anything for my girl,” he whispers.

everything about her amazes him—from the way she knows his body so well, to the way hers responds so perfectly to his touch. he can’t help but stare at her with adoration when he slides down on his cock, taking him inch by inch, face contorted in pleasure. he can’t stop staring at her when she falls apart, crying out his name. he only closes his eyes when his orgasm hits him, making his whole body tingle in pleasure.

she falls on his chest after, body sweaty and slick and stays there until she manages to catch her breath. even when she climbs off him, she doesn’t venture too far, climbing back into bed and cuddling into his side once she gets some water for the both of them.

“cancel plans for today? please?” he mumbles into her hair and she laughs.

“we’re here, all the way on a different continent, and you want to spend the whole day in bed?”

“please?” he tries his best at using puppy eyes on her, a trick that’s worked great for him multiple times before. and once again, she relents.

“fineee birthday boy! only because it’s your day though.”

at the back of his head he kinda wishes it wasn’t, only so he could get the ring out right now and ask her. right here in this bed while she’s naked.

he imagine what she’d look like with nothing but the ring on, the diamond glittering on her finger, messy hair, and a happy smile on her face.

“can we at least have a birthday dinner for you? a proper one.”

“yes! i know just the right place,” he answers and kisses her deeply, teeth snagging on her lower lip until she’s wrapped around him again.

tomorrow, he thinks. he’s going to do it tomorrow.

and he’s going to make it perfect.

the birthday dinner comes back to bite him in the ass.

he spends the entirety of the morning after miserable on the bathroom floor, retching into the toilet, even after his stomach is emptier than it’s ever been. she sits behind him, stroking his back and getting him water whenever he needs it. she doesn’t move even when he repeatedly asks her to.

“‘s disgusting,” followed by another gag to which makes her click her tongue.

“it’s not. let me take care of you!”

it does bring him some relief to lay his head down on her lap in between rounds of throwing up so george doesn’t argue further about it.

mostly though he’s upset about the whole day being ruined. he should be kneeling down in front of her! asking her the most important question of his life! and yet here he is, kneeling down in front of the toilet, face to face with disgusting, half-digested food.

it’s like the universe has it out for him, ruining all his well thought out plans.

fortunately, it passes an hour later, even though it leaves him feeling icky and disgusting. the only silver lining is that he gets to be pampered. she lets him sit in the bath, face squished into her stomach while she washes his hair for him. he groans every time a stomach cramp hits but she scratches his scalp as a consolation.

it’s okay, he thinks, he still has a good few days to do it. tomorrow will be better.

and then they fight.

well, it’s not a fight fight but it’s most certainly a little spat that leaves her all huffy and sour. and george knows it’d be a terrible idea to propose when she’s in a mood like this. it is, in part, his fault after all—he’s been distracted.

and he can’t even admit to her why he’s been distracted, coordinating all the little details with the hotel staff and telling the old japanese florist exactly what flowers he wants where one party barely speaks english and the other speaks no japanese at all.

it’s all stressful. it’s a slight mess.

and he’s been on his phone a little more than he should. so when george looks up to see her, her hand on her hips, foot tapping in annoyance, he knows he’s messed up.

“is there something more important?” there’s a slight bite to her words which grates on him.

george freezes, trying to think of an excuse on the spot. “just…matty.”

her eyes narrow. he knows that look, knows that she does not believe a word coming out of his mouth right now. but it’s not like he can spill everything.

“there was a…holdup. sorted now.” he tries not to stutter but ends up sounding really curt.

she gives him the side-eye, playing with the tassels of her top. george hears her exasperated sigh, her frustration palpable in the tension that hangs between them. “it’s always matty. how convenient.”

george's jaw tightens, his own irritation flaring up. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“well, you’re clearly being shady and using matty as an excuse!”

george panics. this is going south and if he doesn’t salvage this now and come up with a better excuse he’s going to end up with an upset girlfriend and absolutely zero chances of a yes.

he opens and closes his mouth, stuttering out gibberish.

fuck.

“it’s fine, george,” she sighs and turns around, walking away without even waiting to see if he’s following. it’s upsetting that he can’t figure out what she’s thinking right now. it’s not like her to be upset with him so quickly. it’s not like her to just stop communicating.

all george can do is catch up to her and kiss her head in apology. eventually she melts but he can still sense a bit of hurt in her voice every time she speaks.

“fine,” she huffs, “you can stop looking like a kicked puppy now. i’m not mad at you.”

“you sure about that?”

“i promise, baby. i’m not. just…want a bit more of your attention?”

for the rest of the day he vows not to touch his phone, only taking it out once to cancel all the half-formed planned when he’s in the bathroom of a restaurant. the ring stays in his pocket, burning against his thigh.

by their penultimate day george is fucking sure he’s jinxed. the ring comes with him everywhere they go but then how is it possible that every time he tries to propose something or the other goes wrong?

they have a hectic day of travelling and she’s too tired to do anything but order room service and sleep or he can’t find the right moment to do it, can’t think of the right words to segue into it. by their penultimate day he’s frustrated, huffy, silently stewing. so much so that even she can tell something’s wrong with him despite his best attempts to hide it.

“should we…go for a walk?” she suggests just around sunset, a little timid. “there’s this little street by our hotel i saw yesterday, cherry blossoms on both sides. i think it would be nice.”

halfheartedly, he says yes and intertwines his fingers with her as they walk out of their hotel and onto the cosy streets outside. on any other day, this would have been one of the prettiest things he’s ever experienced—strolling down a beautiful street with the love of his life while the world is doused in golden light. but his frustration trumps everything.

“is something wrong?” she asks suddenly. her voice quivers.

for such a pretty street, it’s utterly empty, devoid of any cars or people or even any occasional stray cats that she loves to stop and pet.

irritation burns in his chest—not at her, at everything else, this whole trip, one silly situation after the next. “no.”

“no because—”

“can we not talk about this right now?”

she goes quiet at the interruption, eyes wide and confused. george is about to even apologise for it when her whole face changes, goes from confused to determined.

“no, actually. let’s talk about it.”

“baby—”

“no! you have been distracted the whole time we have been here, something’s clearly wrong and you won’t tell me what it is!”

george gapes at her, but she’s clearly not done yet.

“i know you’ve been here many times before but it feels like you’ve had a shit time with me—”

“what?! no—”

“because i can tell the whole time, you’ve been preoccupied—”

“oh god, i’ve been trying to propose!” he yells out in the middle of the street. a cherry blossom petal flutters down and smacks him in the face and george looks at his girlfriend’s stunned face. a pit opens up in his stomach.

he just said that… he just fucking said that.

the conversation he had with adam months ago pops up in his head. for all the misplaced confidence his friend had in him, george has just gone and blown it all up. exactly what he was worried about. and now that he has started, he can't even stop.

“i’ve been trying to ask you to marry me for days now but something or the other keeps going wrong and i—” he chokes and the rest of the words die on his tongue.

all the nights he’s spent rehearsing his speech, all the time he spent trying to make it happen, all of it down the drain because he stupidly blurted it out. george stuffs his hand in his pocket and takes out the velvet box.

“fuck, i’ve carried this everywhere with me and—”

“yes.”

“what?”

there are tears shining in her eyes and for a second he is so sure that this is about to turn into a serious fight. he fucked up, he fucked up deeply.

and then she breaks out into the most gorgeous smile he’s ever seen, laughing through the tears. “yes. yes! are you kidding me? YES!”

“yes, you’ll…marry me?”

“if you’re still asking…”

he doesn’t even realise he’s crying until something wet hits his nose. there’s an entire storm of emotions in his chest—a whole mixture of nervousness and guilt and glee and oh god so much fucking happiness that he can’t help the wide smile that stretches across his face, can’t help the way a whole swarm of butterflies erupt in his stomach.

more cherry blossoms flutter down and george laughs along with her.

“this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. i had a whole thing planned, shit!”

“so do it. ask me!”

and that’s what he does.

instead of the roses and lights and champagne, george kneels down in the middle of the cherry blossom-covered empty street in the dying light of the sun, and looks up at her.

he opens the ring box.

“i love you so much, you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this—oi, stop laughing at me!” to which she just laughs harder and wipes away the tears in her eyes.

“fuck it,” george curses under his breath, “fuck the speech, just…i’ve been so desperate to hear you say yes. marry me? please?”

somehow between crying and jumping up and down in excitement, she manages to nod and that’s all the confirmation he needs to get up to his feet and kiss her deeply, kiss her till the air gets knocked out of his lungs and he has to step away just a little bit to breathe. but nothing and no one can wipe the smile on his face.

quickly, he takes the ring out of the box and slides it onto her finger. it fits her perfectly, like it was meant for her and her only.

yes. she just said yes.

she just said yes after the shittiest proposal in the world. how did he get so lucky?

“that was…utterly shit. sorry i’ve been such a shit boyfriend.”

“fiance,” she corrects with a big, goofy grin on her face. “and are you joking?! that was the best proposal ever. certainly the most memorable.”

“it was?”

she nods again, distracted this time, eyes trained at her ring. the fading sunlight makes it look even more perfect.

“i’d really like to hear it though, the original plan.”

george shakes his head and takes her hand in his. his thumb swipes over her ring, drawing lazy circles around it until he memorises the feel of it on her finger. the precise shape and size of it. it’s perfect, he thinks. the perfect ring for his perfect girl.

“let’s go back then,” he kisses the top of her head, “and i’ll tell you all about it.”

taglist: @scooby-doodoo, @partoftheairforce, @justgoatsbreakinghearts0855@beachesgetpeaches, @you-muppet, @mcabister, @alexmarie29, @at-her-very-foreign, @hfkait, @squishysoupy @sierraeslaprincesa @harrie-fic-center @alien-girl-violet @thereisaplaceintheheart @kennedy-brooke @lolidontknowanymore @theoriginalwhatsername@celestcies @sugarkane1001 @ari-turner @thewaywewereinsaigon @daphnesutton @beliefandsayingsomething @ros3chu @nothingrevealedeverythingdenied @zzzhealy @mattymybeloved @fck-off @indiaamars @sofaritsalrightt @k4tie75 @wondersecret @humptyhoran @indierockgirrl @hanbiior @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @rossgirly @if-my-heart-bleeds @little-lovely-darling @abriefnirvana @renitypoem @sinarainbows @lady-may-targaryen @love4agesss @angrylittlebaldman @oneluckygirl @sinarainbows @starvchaser @noacfapologyst @abouttofillhisshoes @tbhnotthatfunny

add yourself to the taglist

#spring fics #seasons #the 1975 #george daniel #george daniel x reader #george daniel x you #george x reader #george x you

96 notes · View notes

cosmerelists · 5 months

Text

What Cosmere Characters' Rooms Look Like (But Mostly In Terms of Vibes)

As requested by @rainbyanyothername :)

Here is my take on what the vibe of Cosmere characters' rooms would be--vibes mostly because I don't want to be stuck to, like, what bedrooms are canonically like in the various worlds. We're going by vibes, baby!

1. Adolin

I think that, as soon as he stopped having to abide by his father's strict "all rooms must follow the codes somehow" standards, Adolin went his own way...and that way was tasteful and fashionable. Adolin is the sort of guy whose bedroom pieces all match--but not in a "all bought from a matching set" kind of way, but rather, like, a deep orange bedspread and a forest green rug that somehow complement each other beautifully. It's neat--he is NOT going to wrinkle his clothes by tossing them over a chair--but also clearly lived in and homey.

2. Zellion

He doesn't have a room. :( He's always on the run. :( How rude of you to even ask. :(

3. Shallan

I just remember how happy Shallan was to be in that big fluffy comforter when she first moved in with Sebarial. I think she'd love to have that deeply soft bed and that big fluffy comforter and a beanbag chair and also a big egress window in case she has to escape in the night to do spy stuff. It is also definitely not neat.

4. Jasnah

Well...we know nothing is soft if Jasnah can help it. Her mattress is firm, her rug (if she has one) is low-pile, and she has bookshelves everywhere.

5. Wax

I think he has deerskin-rug-on-the-floor-guns-on-the-walls-but-also-everything-in-there-costs-one-million-dollars vibes. Except for the boots, which Wayne left behind as a trade and are worth $1.50.

6. Ranette

Her room is gross and cluttered and every single surface is either guns or gun parts.

7. Dalinar

I mean, surely this one is obvious: his room is Spartan. Dalinar has the minimum amount of furniture necessary to make a room a room, and he didn't even have any photographs before Navani came along. He thinks slippers are extravagant.

8. Lightsong

I mean, this one is clear from canon. Lightsong has, like, nineteen pillows and sixteen blankets and carpets on top of his carpets and a lot of objects that could only be called "baubles."

9. Sigzil

I don't think Sigzil is quite as Spartan as Dalinar--or at least, it isn't a moral thing for him. I think Sigzil would live fairly simply because he's not a big stuff person, and it would be neat on the surface but perhaps a bit dusty if you looked too closely because he's out a lot.

10. Zane

All I know is that his room has a My Chemical Romance poster on its wall...in, like, vibes.

11. Breeze

He has a wine fridge. It's by the bed. His room his mostly tasteful and masculine and, like, full of oak...but also there are sparkly pink pillows and doilies everywhere. We all know why.

12. Kelsier

Kelsier's room would be a sanctuary to Mare; like not-touched-at-all-since-she-was-last-there-even-though-he-feels-like-weeping-whenever-he-sees-it-but-he-can't-throw-away-that-crumpled-up-kleenex-because-Mare-touched-it sort of vibes. Sorry :(

13. Vasher

His room his gross. He thinks he can wear his socks three times before they need washing and in the meantime he will be leaving them on that chair.

14. Vivenna

Her room is very neat--she definitely makes her bed every morning and actually moves books to dust underneath them--and there is, just, no color anywhere.

15. Kaladin

If you asked Kaladin what he wanted in a bedroom he would be like "A mattress?? To sleep on?? What else do you need in a bedroom???" And yes, he's definitely a mattress-put-directly-on-the-floor boy. But then Syl keeps collecting cool leaves and flowers and putting them around, and there are some rocks from Tien, and a flute that somehow ended up back with him, and Adolin gave him something called a "decorative pillow" and in the end it's still a mattress on the floor but surrounded by things brought in by people who love him.

#cosmere #cosmerelists #Adolin #Zellion #Shallan #Jasnah #Wax #Ranette #Dalinar #Lightsong #Sigzil #Zane #Breeze #Kelsier #Vivenna #Vasher #Kaladin

88 notes · View notes

serxinns · 6 months

Note

I was thinking of doing this trope but I wanted to give it to you!! So we all know class 1A is obsessive and sickly in love with their darling. But think of it- if the darling was secretly yan as well. So one night as a student goes snooping through y/n’s room they find a hidden diary and it is how they love their classmates and know little things- and how they stalk them too. But y/n doesn’t really notice the class is yan too!! I think it’s cute idea

OMG YES BRO THIS IS LIKE UNHEALTHY OBSESSION IN A NUTSHELL

It all made sense it actually would've all made sense

Now when you 1st went into the class you were so elated you just wanted to hug everyone and anyone you you were just a t the most innocent little sweetheart that needed to be protected and coddled you were always brought gifts and adorable little cards whenever they felt sad or gave them little dolls of themselves you were very protective of them which made their hearts swoon you even didn't mind of their coddling and disturbingly obsessive nature! You were just perfect

But something was weird going around like why Denki felt like being watched when he was in the middle of changing or another day Hakagure and Mina were shocked when they saw their rooms in a mess and hakagures lucky shirt was gone and Mina's favorite socks were missing strange but it wasn't you right..but even the more they hung out with you the more strange behaviors they notice

Like when you knew strangely what Bakugo's favorite food was and how he liked it and made it in a all might theme bento box but bakugo didn't mind ofc he thought it was secretly adorable but off or how you would give strong hugs to kirishima or whenever he got hurt you'll quickly get protective and even bring a medkit with you even tho it was just a small scratch,

Ochako noticed how one of the plushies you gave her had a strange blinking red light on their eye... or Mina felt a dark aura behind her when she was talking to Kendo but it was just you at 1st she would brush it off now it felt suspicious or whenever izuku ask for information about you, you would try to add a bit more saying "well my quirk is that but do you know my hands get softer and warmer the more I use my quirk " or "did you know i also use this type of shampoo" it was almost like you were trying to impress him. But they all brushed it off cause it's no way they thought it was you!

That was untill one day..

Sero was on the way to invite you to hang out with him and the bakusquad he went to your door and knocked, There was no answer so he pushed the door and was prised it was open he knew it was wrong to sneak in people's rooms but he can't help it You just was so addicting so he checked to see if the coast was Cleary and slowly went in shutting your door behind him he started snooping and looking under your bed for stuff he can keep but that was until he saw a small little (favorite color) diary with stickers on it and a do not open on there sero thought it was cute and open it

At 1st the pages were innocent just talking about your day and your interests and all that sero just sighed dreamily but as he flipped to the next page he was shocked there were little doodles of Kota and you were explaining how adorable and quiet he was and he admired how much he loved animals and was thinking into going into his room and see what type of animal he like so you can gift him it.!? Sero's eyes were wide open and as he flip to the next page he saw that you did the same think with Sato, then tokoyami, then Mina, then on and on it goes he realized how each chapter were pages dedicated to them!

He got up quietly put the diary in his shirt hiding it and quickly opened the dorm door quietly shut the door and started walking away needing to tell the others

When Sero made it to the comment room Mina saw him and jumped and ran to him looking around to see if you were there and pouted to see no "Hey Sero where y/n I thought you were gonna get her what gives!" She said hands on her hips and looking sternly at him "I didn't find them but I found their diary.." now everyone in the common room was eyes on him curious of what was in the diary "a diary sweet dude! Lemme read it!" Denki was about to snatch the diary out of sero hands untill iida protested

"what made you think reading someone's private property is just wrong" "Oh please don't act like Mr goodie two shoes when I saw you getting your pair of shorts your just as bad as all of us class rep," Jirou said with a sly smirk while iida glared at her about to say something but bakugo harshly interrupted "ARE YOU DUMBASS IS GONNA CLMOUR AND BICKER OR JUST OPEN THE DAMN BOOK ALREADY?" Iida and Jirou got silent and looked at each other while Denki got the book out of Sero's hands and began to read it let's say if his jaw was in the ocean it would've dropped down to where the deep sea critters

Some students noticed this and they started to look im the diary one by one they pass it to another curious student and their reaction was just the same at the time everyone reaction was shocked even Bakugo looked slightly surprised they wanted to say something but they couldn't they were just speechless untill they heard you skipping down the halls Mina quickly grabbed the book and threw it under the couch and everyone acted normal trying not to either question you or to jump up and hug you and squeal

"Hey guys have you seen my diary!" Everyone started at your bright smile faced "n-nope no diary here hehe.."

Everyone else joined in stating they were either in the common room or in their dorms you looked at them for a second and signed "aw darn clumsy me probably left it in the lunch room be such a shame if someone read it"

most of your classmates could've sworn they felt venom in your voice when you said that which sent chills but adoration at the same time "Anyway I'm gonna go to bed see ya in the morning" Everyone said goodnight to you waving and all and they were left alone with their thoughts

They were gonna have to talk to you tomorrow afterthie

#yandere bnha #yandere ua #tw yandere #yandere x reader #tw obsessive behavior #yandere class 1a #yandere mha #tw stalking #tw unhealthy obsession #read at your own risk #bnha fluff

105 notes · View notes

ethicaltreatmentofcowplants · 28 days

Text

sulani: set sometime after this

cw: while i tried to deal with it in a light way (without trivialising the issue), this does allude to consent. nothing happens, everyone’s wishes are respected, and no one is persuaded/pressured to do anything. just in case the subject may understandably be triggering for some though.

(also while I did my best with @akitasimblr's leo harper - or rather my homebrand cc free knock-off - nothing he does is canon unless Ana says it is!)

* * *

"Looking good, Leo. Why, thank you, you handsome devil. Have to say, Ms. “I’ve done more mucking out than messing around” was not the contestant I was expecting this call from. But we all saw her in that bikini. I would hardly refuse."

It was at this moment, Araminta knew that she had fucked up.

(Oooh, he is going to hate me. And completely ruin my chances with Dodo, if not my entire reputation simply out of spite. I know his type too well. Still, Minty. An explanation is owed - and an apology. You come from two long lines of royalty, so you must have a spine somewhere. Find it.)

"I have to say, this was an unexpected surprise, but not an unwelcome one. Can I get you anything? There’s a chardonnay chilling that will knock your socks off. And a few other things too, but we can take our time with that."

"..."

"Uh, Minty? I assume we’re on pet name terms, or we’re about to be. If it’s the chardonnay, I can have something else brought up."

"... .... ...."

"Listen, between you and me, when you get us five star celebrities between the sheets? We’re just Some Guy. Well, some of us anyway. I have it on good authority that Thorne Bailey for example is the worst woohoo. Like not even one star. So don’t be nervous! Assuming that you’re nervous because it’s me."

(cue Leo's own math lady meme moment)

"Orrrr are you nervous because you’ve changed your mind - and you don’t know how to tell me?"

(looks up at him hopefully)

"Well, I’m taking anything other than shoving me onto the bed as a resounding ‘no, I’m not into this anymore.’ Why don’t I check on that chardonnay, and you take a moment? If I end up having the entire bottle to myself, that’s okay."

"See? It was fine. You are fine. Pull yourself together, Araminta."

* * *

"I… didn’t mean to text you. Your profile pictures look exactly the same."

"Funny how that works. So, you thought that you were texting my brother? And in spite of having at your fingertips the hottest commodity in the entire Simsverse - ie. my own personal private number - you decided that you’d rather attempt a night of passion with that doofus instead?"

"Well... yes?"

(leaves unsaid that there wasn't even a decision to be made. also - ahem. dodo is not a doofus, thank you.)

"But Watcher, everyone knows that I’m the sexy twin!"

(tactful silence)

"I am so terribly sorry, Leo. And quite frankly, mortified. I’d tear up my contract right now if I could."

"Contracts don’t work like that, Princess. Trust me. Don’t sweat it. It’s nothing to leave the challenge over. I can’t promise that I won’t laugh at you later or bring it up on the show at some point, but apart from you being a boring do-gooder, we’re cool. Deep breaths."

"I did, er, bring some wine myself. It’s an aged Chestnut Ridge red from our cellar, and I had thought that Dodo-"

"Totally wasted on him. Give me that."

"Thank you, by the way, for being so nice about this."

"Nice? Ha. I thought you lived on some Henford estate, not beneath a rock. But I’m not a creep. If you don’t one hundred percent want to be here, then I don’t want you here. Period. Go downstairs and get a massage or something. It looks like you need it."

"I may do just that."

"Wait - let’s check that you have my brother’s number right. You may have picked the wrong twin, but there’s nothing wrong with your taste in wine. And if you and Dodo don’t work out, then I’m always happy to mentor a promising up-and-comer." (winks)

"I’ll, uh, bear in mind that generous offer."

"No you won’t. You’re just being polite. Now scram. I’d totally smack your arse on your way out, but the Watcher is too cheap for that pack. And if you ever tell anyone other than Dodo that I wasn’t a total dick to you, I’ll spread a rumour that you once drank white wine with red meat or some other shit that would totally ruin your good name within 'polite' society."

"Plum, she really was that surprised at me being cool with her not wanting to sleep with me. The bar for men is so low, it must be in fucking Selvadorada. Here’s to being the sexy twin. And to all my daughters hopefully being lesbians."

"Hey, this is really a nice vintage. Nice girl too, unfortunately. But I could have fixed her, Watcher..."

#mad about dodo #araminta hearst-irsay #context: araminta texted the wrong twin #and was worried leo would be nasty when she refused #but he was chill #and in his mean traited way actually dropped some truths #the 'even bad guys have standards' trope everyone #anyway i promised you something light and silly ana #i don't think this was it #but i hope you begin to feel better soon #other people's sims #other people's cool stuff

42 notes · View notes

angel-of-the-moons · 1 year

Text

A Rose Under the Moon

Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Domestic violence mentions, hints at child abuse, child abuse mentions violence, phantom pains

MINORS DNI: I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Again, none of this is beta read. We die like the younglings Anakin snuffed in the Jedi Temple

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @shirukitsune @bad4amficideas

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Chapter 3:

The Victims

You sighed, checking the little egg timer in your apron pocket to see how long until the scones you were baking had left in the oven. Fifteen minutes. Ugh.

It had been a few days since Steven had come in and purchased his pillar of books. The two of you would make small talk, him thumbing through books and rambling about a subject on ancient Egypt that he knew. The moment you brought up your own obscure facts you have memorized from the things your father would read to you as a little girl, Steven’s eyes lit up and he got the biggest grin on his face, and launched himself headlong into info-dump mode. It was kinda cute, really, how excitable he got. You could tell the poor guy probably didn’t have many friends, aside from his brothers, whom he’d told you about, and a friend named Layla. You also found it endearing how his messy, bed-raggled curls would flop over his face, or how animated he’d seem when he would interrupt himself to bring up another fun fact…

But, it had been a day or two since he’d come in last. And to be honest, you kinda miss the guy. He was probably the nicest most engaging customer you had. He even admitted that he didn’t come in just for the books. He told you he liked your teas and treats, and he loved the comfortable atmosphere of your shop over a crowded cafe. But one day, he just had to ask:

“I’ve been meaning to ask…” He started, looking at the muffin in his hand.

“Hm?” You hummed as you stocked shelves.

“Are these… vegan?” He seemed hesitant to touch the muffine now, as if it were poisoned.

You giggle softly. “Yes, actually. I try to use recipes that everyone can enjoy. Vegan, gluten-free…”

“Oh! Wonderful!” He scarfed the muffin down rather quickly after that, his nose buried in the textbook on archaeology he had in his hands.

You set your phone down as you sipped your spiced tea. It was a rather cold and gloomy day today, not uncommon this late in the year, but still, it sucked. It reminded you of where you grew up in Maine, off the coast. Storms blew in all the time, you’d remember as a little girl getting up in the morning, wanting to run outside and play, just to be met with a dark and angry sky, blistering winds, and pelting rain.

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Your poor little six-year-old heart was crushed one day when a particularly bad squall blew into town, and you were trapped within the confines of your house, arms crossed, feet firmly planted as you glared out the window, lip wobbling.

How dare the weather ruin your plans for the day? You were going to play in your treehouse! Now the stupid wind was gonna blow it away! And if it did, your father would have to build another one, and that would take forever!

“Hey, there, Lil’ Bit.” Your dad said, kneeling behind you, as you stubbornly looked out the window in a seething rage. So, so angry for a little girl. You inherited your temper from your mother, surely. Though you personally never saw her mad, of course. Ever. But then again, she worked so much…

Your mom was what your dad told you was a “breadwinner”, which was a term you found dumb. You mom never entered contests and she certainly never won bread as a prize. It was so dumb! Why did adults have to use such dumb words for things?

“Hey, kiddo.” Your dad sang, leaning forward from where he was crouched to put his chin on your tiny shoulder.

“No, daddy, ‘m angy.” You mumbled, trying to shrug him off as lightning flashed in the distance.

He chuckled, his voice warm, much like your favorite pair of fuzzy socks after they were just taken out of the dryer. “Come on, princess. It’ll pass. They always do.”

“But why did it have t’ do it today!” You whined, not budging.

“Dunno, kid. The sky just felt like dumping buckets, I guess.” He said, humoring you.

“Daddy...” You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Clouds don’t use buckets!”

“Sure they do!” He grinned, waggling his eyebrows at you. “You just never see em!”

“You’re silly.” You scoff.

“You’re silly!” Your dad laughed, scooping you up and spinning you around, finally getting a smile out of you as you shriek in laughter.

He tucked you against his chest and kissed you on your forehead. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s get you some sna–”

His eyes went wide and he gasped when you writhed, crying out and wincing like you’d just been struck.

“Babygirl, what’s wrong?” He asked, hurriedly sitting you on the couch as you curled in on yourself. He could see the welts start to peek out from beneath the sleeves of your little pink shirt.

It was happening again.

The pain in his heart gripped him like ice, knowing he couldn’t do anything to ease the pain his daughter was feeling. His poor, poor baby girl, whose soulmate was constantly being inflicted with whatever horrors they faced with.

He would curse it, sometimes. Your mark. Your bond. You were already enduring abuse that wasn’t directed at you. Or maybe it was in a way… Given that it was happening to your other half. Who you would one day meet. Maybe things will be better, when you had. Maybe.

But one thing was for sure, he hated whomever was inflicting those injuries on your soulmate more. Not only were they hurting your soulmate, they were hurting you. He’d imagined that you were close in age. If so, who the hell would abuse a child in such a way? The concept was completely foreign to him.

He rubbed your back, murmuring sweet and loving things to you.

He noticed something odd about your mark about a few years ago, right when the welts and bruises started to show and you would recoil in phantom pain... There was a new addition to your mark. At first it was one crescent moon. But then one became two, and two became three.

Right now, the bottom right moon was full.

He wasn’t sure what it meant… But he noticed your crying slow to soft little hiccups and sniffles as you sit up, rubbing your eyes.

He rested his forehead against yours. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart. I promise.”

“I jus’ wanna know why it hurts so much, daddy.” You sniffle.

“Trust me, I know. Me and your mom are similar. I remember when we were kids, before we met… She fell from a tree and broke her leg. Man, it hurt so bad…”

You looked up at him, your big beautiful eyes glistened with tears. Your mother’s eyes. Little gems of hers that you would always have.

“Really?” You peeped.

“Really.” He stood and walked over to the bookshelf above the living room fireplace, and plucked a book off of it. He turned back to you and sat next to you, pulling you into his lap and kissing the top of your head.

“This book came from your great auntie over in London. You remember her, yeah?” He hummed.

Your fingers grazed the cover, old and worn, obviously well-read and well-loved. It had a picture of a woman with wings and a pretty dress on it. You couldn’t read the other words on it just yet, you were still learning how to read the bigger ones.

“Want me to read you some of the stories in it?” He inquired.

“Uh-huh.” You nod.

Your father flipped the pages open, and hummed again, softer.

“Now, let’s start with the tale of Isis and the Seven Scorpions…”

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

You jumped, almost dropping the egg timer you had in your hand when your shop’s door dinged and swung open. A frantic young woman rushed inside, her sunken and baggy eyes looking at you, wide with fright.

You skipped the usual welcome and regarded her with a confused expression.

“I… Can I help you–”

“Please, I just need to–to hide!” She said, rushing over to you and gripping your hand, pulling you behind her and further into the winding shelves that made up your bookstore.

“Hey, Hey.” You say, putting your hands on her shoulders. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“My–my boyfriend. He… He’s… I messed up and burned lunch and…” She looked to the side trying to check if he somehow didn’t materialize out of thin air over her shoulder when she wasn’t looking; and when she did… you saw them.

The already darkening bruises on her delicate throat.

Immediately you went into protector mode. You gently urge her towards the door leading to the stairwell that went up to your flat above.

“You hide up there, and call 999, okay?” You say to her. “You can stay here until the police arrive. If it makes you feel safer, there’s a deadbolt to the door up there. If your boyfriend comes in I’ll act like I didn’t see anything.”

You rush to the oven when you hear the timer go off, and pull out the scones (after slipping on your mitts), when the bell to your store dings.

You curse under your breath and say to the girl quietly. “Stay quiet, honey. I’ll be up when the police get here.”

You carefully slip the tasty treats onto a plastic tray and toss the pan into the sink with a clang; instantly regretting it when the young woman flinched and curled into herself, her arms instinctively reaching to cover her head.

You muttered and apology and balanced the pan on your hand as you hastily make your way down the stairs, to see whomever was incessantly dinging your “ring me!” button at the register.

When you finally break free of the labyrinthine bookshelves, you spot a rather large and angry looking man.

This had to be the boyfriend.

“Hello, one moment, please.” You say tersely, sliding the scones into the small display case showcasing the fresh treats of the day.

“Oi, you seen somebody come in here?” He demanded gruffly.

You take another visual sweep of his appearance. Rather big build, probably abuses the gym too much. He looks like he exclusively dines on protein shakes more than food… He could be trouble, if he got violent. The only upside is that you knew the layout of your little shop by heart, he didn’t. You really wished you had a gun under the counter, right about now.

You made a mental note to sign up for the courses and get the certificate from the police..

“Other than you, no, you’d be my first customer of the day.” You force the cheer into your tone as you bring a box of books and begin to half-assedly place them, hoping to look normal.

“Ain’t no fuckin’ customer.” He growled. “Don’ want no books.”

“Well, I also offer a variety of coffees, teas, and snacks–”

“I ain’t no fuckin’ customer!” He barked, getting in your face.

You could smell the alcohol on his breath. That explains the slurred speech.

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask that you please back away, you’re a little too close…” You say, your hands up in a submissive gesture, hoping to appear as non-threatening as possible.

"Does it look like I giv' a fuck? Ya fuckin' muppet?" He hissed at you, his eyes dilated and glassy.

"Look, I don't want to cause trouble, but–"

He seized your arm and gripped it painfully tight, you could feel the crunch of your radiocarpal joint being squeezed under his rough and indelicate fingers. "Did ya hear me, ya fuckin' cunt? I'm lookin' for my girl, I know she came in here! Don't lie t' me!"

"Sir, people come into my store all the time, and it's not really my business why unless they buy a book or a muffin. Let me go!" You retort, trying to pry his fingers from around you with your free hand.

"Shut th' fuck up!" He snarled, pushing you back against the bookshelf so hard the back of your head cracked on one of the shelves. Great, another pain.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" An unmistakably American accent called from the door of your shop.

How had you missed the bell? How did you not notice the sound of the door opening?

The drunken man holding you turned, still gripping you. "Great, another fuckin' yank? Can't you fucks stick to ya own country?"

You felt your pulse quicken, and your eyes widened at the man who stood in the door; dark, honey-tinted eyes aflame with anger. But the man the eyes belonged to?

Dead ringer for Steven. But he carried himself entirely differently, he even had his hair styled back in a different way. He wore a white hoodie, faded blue jeans, and some steel-toe boots.

"None o' ya fuckin' busniess, you dick." The man sneered, looking back down at you.

"It is if you're hurting the lady." He said gruffly.

"Oi, you got a listening problem?"

The man turned again, but he was met with the knuckles of the American man who just came to your aid; straight to his jaw, knocking him back against a cart you had full of discount books, sending them to the floor with a clatter.

The man cracked his knuckles, before gently grabbing you by the shoulder and moving you behind him for cover.

At this distance you could just barely catch a whiff of sandalwood and some kind of spice. A hint of aftershave wafted into your senses in accompany.

"You fuckin' dick!" The man grunted, shaking his head in an attempt to reorient his brain.

"You need a better repertoire of insults, buddy. Or stop hitting the sauce." The other man sneered. "Probably both."

The drunk lunged at him, and this guy was one step ahead, intercepting him by grabbing his wrists.

The crunch of bone was enough to make you squeeze your eyes shut, and when you dared to peek again, the drunk was clutching at his now bleeding and broken nose. Your savior on the other hand?

Barely broke a sweat. He headbutted him with the hardest part of his head, crunching bone and cartilage.

"Stay down, asshole." He growled. You spun on your heels to look at the door when two clothed officers came in, hands on their pepper spray.

"Everybody just calm down!" One of them shouted.

Ugh. Now you had a headache…

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

By the time the officers, the battered girl, and her boyfriend all left, it was just you and your knight in shining hoodie. Who looked way too much like Steven.

You sat him down at one of the reading nooks and shakily wring your hands out to calm down. "Uh… Yeah, so…" You try.

"My name's Marc. Marc Spector." He said. "You, uh… met my brother, already. Steven."

You gasp. "The heathen!"

He choked out a startled laugh. "What?"

"Oh! Uhhhhhh…" You clear your throat awkwardly trying to change the subject. "You and Steven have different last names!"

Marc huffed through his nose. "It's uh… a long story."

"What, were you guys separated at birth or something? He speaks with a typical Londoner accent, you're full-blown American." You smile.

"Or something." Marc murmured, unable to meet your eyes.

"God, and Steven and I joked about my life being a setup for a book." You giggle softly. "You guys sound like you're straight out of a Dickens novel!"

Marc kind of squirmed in his seat. "Yeah…"

"So, uh… what brings you here today? From what Steven told me, you don't exactly pick up books all the time like he does." You say to him, tilting his head.

Marc wiped at his face with a groan, "Ugh. Don't get me started on Steven's books! He has too goddamn many–"

"Ah!" You say, flicking a stray curl. You weren't sure why your brain told you that was okay to do. It just felt right. The look he gave you afterwards sent your heart leaping into your throat.

Raw confusion, maybe some surprise?

"Uh… No talking like that is allowed in my store, there, pal…" You stammer out. "So… why are you here?"

"Steven said you had coffee. Didn't feel like dealing with a lot of people today." He kind of mumbled.

"Oh, I get that." You sighed softly in sympathy. Already, Marc struck you as the kinda guy who didn't like dealing with people unless he had to.

And honestly, you kinda felt for the guy. Something about him made your heart twinge in a funny little way.

"Tell you what, as a thanks for helping take care of that asshat, coffee is on the house, and I'll even give you a cup of my personal blend instead of the stuff on the menu."

"Uh, you don't have to–"

"Ah!" You say, wagging a finger at him as you walk away. "None of that in my store!"

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

You sat and talked for a while. Hours, really. Whereas Steven loved to babble about things he knew, and was rather energetic about it, Marc was… reserved. Shy, almost. He was content to let you lead the conversations, piping in here or there on a subject.

He told you some about his time in the Marines, and how something happened to him mentally that got him discharged early. He was vague about what he did after that, but he mentioned moving to London after he and his wife ran into problems.

At first you almost asked a rather impertinent question, "Why did you guys split up?" But decided that was far too rude of a thing to ask. Even if you wondered why he married outside of a soulmate bond. Even if a marriage like that wasn't entirely uncommon…

"I'm sorry." You say softly, sitting across from him, your coffee long finished, the mug cold. "You've been through… a lot..."

"Yeah, you can certainly say that." Marc sighed, turning his mug in his hands for probably the hundredth time.

"So… Thanks again. For y'know. Helping me." You smile.

"No problem, easy enough to deal with a drunk." He shrugged. "And he looked like he was about to hurt you, so I had to do... something."

"Well I'm glad you did that something." You chuckle.

Marc cleared his throat and smiled back, a soft thing on his face, really. But it was nice to see.

He moved to stand, "I should, ah… go. Thanks for the coffee." He reached out to hand you a few notes from his wallet, and you declined, gathering the mugs to go wash them.

"Nope, I already said it was on the house." You tell him.

"But–"

"No buts!" You called out as you vanished into the expanse of bookshelves.

When you came back, you noticed that, stacked neatly on the counter, was a bundle of notes, your egg timer sitting neatly atop it, with a post-it note simply saying:

"Tell me your life story next time. Thanks. -Marc."

Chapter 4: Link

#A Rose Under the Moon #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x reader #soulmate au

210 notes · View notes

gavisuntiedboot · 2 years

Text

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 5

Warnings: SMUT!! MDNI or if you're uncomfortable! Profanity!! Swearing!! Ferran and Martin (based on the reactions I think they deserve their own warning)!!

Word Count: 11.2K (fun fact! If you've read the whole story, you've read 46 pages!)

A/N: I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, BUT THERE'S A LOT I WANTED TO INCLUDE IN THIS PART (AS YOU CAN TELL BY THE WORD COUNT)

[Incoming Facetime call from: Gavi]

"Gavi, you're going to have to learn to live without seeing my face 24/7. I don't want you experiencing withdrawal symptoms while I sleep."

"I just had a question about- is that a jar of pickles?"

"Yes. I felt like having a snack."

"You're disgusting."

"Listen, I brought several things back from university life in America, and a pickle addiction was one of them. Let me have little joys in life. What did you call me for? Besides to shame me for my midnight guilty pleasures?"

This was the 7th time in two weeks that Gavi had Facetimed you at odd hours. After your little heart-to-heart while drunk in the club, and him covering for you at work the next morning, he caved into the impulsive thoughts and called you, wanting to make sure you were okay.

"Gavi it's 10pm. If you want me to help you hide a body, call me during working hours."

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding at the sound of your voice. You were okay. Like actually okay. All of the distress in your voice, the shakiness, the panic - it had all disappeared. You were back to your cool self, and it filled him with a warm and gooey sense of relief. He kept you on the phone for about 10 minutes before his internal monologue told him it was enough, and he went to bed with a strange tightness in his chest.

For the first three weeks, it had been strictly texts and phone calls. Gavi was still sending you his daily little updates, some relevant, most not.

[Gavi]: Compression socks are really tight on my shins. Feels like they're cutting off my blood flow.

[Gavi]: pedri keeps telling me to eat bananas to help with my back cramps. Fact or cap?

[Gavi]: saw someone on tiktok make a Joao Felix thirst trap. Anything you want to confess?

This texting remained constant, and then he supplemented with phone calls. After the check-up call, he had to find new excuses to call you. He started scheduling his early-morning sessions over the phone instead of over text, asking about your life in the meantime. He started "forgetting" things in your office, calling to tell you he would be there before practice to pick them up. It hadn't annoyed you, per se, but confused you. Why was Gavi so comfortable calling you and just talking about random things on the phone? Initially, you had joked with him to stop calling you so frequently.

"Gavi, personal number. Personal. You should keep all work related stuff to emails only. I don't get paid to listen to you ramble about Game of Thrones."

"I know you well enough by now to know that if you didn't want to hear my voice, you would hang up."

He wasn't exactly wrong. You were not one to shy away from hanging up in someone's face if you were irritated (you had done it to Ferran the one time he called you from Gavi's phone). You also didn't really have anyone else to talk to. Angelika, despite acting unemployed, worked for a design house in the city, and her designs had been approved as part of the new line. She now spent every waking moment working on the spring/summer collection that needed to be shown in February. She had even stopped bugging you to go to the club. The only times you heard from her were when she sent "Hey I'm alive just busy" texts, or on the weekends when she begged you to drive her to the far fabric stores. There weren't many other people that you wanted to talk to. Your friends in the US were several hours behind. Your friends in Barcelona were kind of exhausting, and not who you wanted to hear from after a long day of work. And Martin?

Martin was ... interesting. You definitely liked being with him in person. Your dinners were romantic. Martin always picked you up and took you to the nicest restaurant, allowing you to order the expensive plates that would actually make you full. He always complimented your dress and your eyes and the way you looked despite having a long day at work. He was a theoretical great boyfriend. You liked going out with him every 3-4 days. You liked getting good morning and good night texts and the hot pre-game selfies whenever you checked your phone between shifts at work. But in those late nights when you were bored and lonely, and your TV shows were all boring you, Martin was not the first person you thought of calling.

While he was great over dinner, he wasn't the most entertaining or comforting presence. He had a habit of downplaying a lot of the things you were feeling or going through.

"Baby, people make sexual comments all the time. Just look at how people on Twitter talk about the players. You should be more flattered than anything that he complimented your ass."

That was the last time you ever called him after a long and tiring day of work. Your text messages were filled with only pleasant conversations. A good goal he scored in practice. Praise you received from the rest of the medical staff for your progress. Never your frustration with your job or your life or the sad boring things that regular, not famous not football players went through.

"It's like 7pm this is not a midnight snack."

The sound of Gavi's voice brought you back from your abstract thoughts. You looked at his face lit up on the screen. His hair was a little wild and still slightly damp from his shower. He was in a white t-shirt that hugged his shoulders. He placed his phone down so that he could show you his complaint.

"Remember how we were talking about my knee and thigh tightness? I've been trying to work out the muscle for a while but it's not helping."

He moved back from the camera, letting his black gym shorts and legs come in to the frame. He lifted his left short leg, showing off the pronounced muscles in his thigh. You brought the phone a little closer to your face, focusing on his leg. He flexed the muscle, and you swallowed hard. You had seen some of the best legs in football laying in front of you - so why was Gavi's slightly blurry form on FaceTime overwhelming you?

"Have you been doing the routine I gave you to improve blood flow? It looks like you haven't."

"It's hard to do! I tried multiple times and I'm just in pain every time. We just have a match tomorrow and like it's kind of uncomfortable. It's fine I can just play through it if you don't have any other recommendations."

This made you sit up. If there was one thing that would get both of you in deep shit, it was Gavi playing through a known and documented discomfort.

"You're not going to do that. If you get injured during the match then I-"

"Awe doctora, you're concerned about me getting injured?"

He got up close to the camera, smiling cheekily and feigning shyness. You rolled your eyes.

"If you get injured in the match I will get in trouble because your muscle tightness is in your file. So you have two options: do the blood flow massage I told you to, or I need to email Xavi now and tell him you should be playing a maximum of 60 minutes in tomorrow's match."

This statement made Gavi sober up, looking instantly more serious.

"We're not telling Mister Xavi anything. I actually don't know how to do the blood flow stuff without feeling like I'm peeling off my own skin."

"Would it kill you not to play all 90 minutes tomorrow?"

"Yes." There was not one indication, neither in his tone or on his face, that he was kidding. Gavi's love for football was evident, but it was deeper than most people saw. Barca wasn't just his club - it was the air he breathed, the blood in his veins. It was his family, his brotherhood since he was a child. It was the greatest love he had ever experienced, and he was honestly willing to lay his life down if it meant making Mister and the boys proud. He would die for this club.

"You know what doctora? You can just do it for me tomorrow morning before the match."

"You can't play right after we literally batter your muscles to increase blood flow. You have to do it within the next few hours to have enough time to rest. I wish you told me this morning, I could have..." Your sentence trailed as you looked at your front door. Your car keys were sitting in the dish. You had been thinking about going out to get some dinner, too tired to wait for chicken to defrost.

"Hello? Can you focus on the crisis at hand instead of daydreaming?"

"What if I came over and did it for you now?"

Gavi's eyes got wide and he stared at his screen. He was trying to process the information that had just slithered into his brain. You? At his house? At night? Alone???

"Wait." He said, and then hung up the call. You looked at your screen in confusion.

He stabilized his hands enough to find the contact.

*Calling: ~banana king pepi~ *

"Pick up pick up pick up pick up-"

"Hello?"

"Help. Me."

Pedri paused his game, much to the dismay of his brother, who was about to score a virtual goal.

"Pablo I know you didn't go to regular school, but you should know that in an emergency you should call the police."

"Y/n asked to come to my house."

Pedri bit back a laugh, removing the controller from his lap and putting the call on speaker so Fernando could be a part of the drama.

"You finally confessed that you're in love with her and want to kick her boyfriend's teeth in?"

"I'm not in love with her, we're just friends. That second part you might be right about." Gavi summarized your reasons for coming over quickly, asking Pedri for some sage advice while he and Fer raised their eyebrows at each other in amusement.

"As long as you have condoms, invite her over Hermano."

"I don't like her like that."

"Then why are you nervous about her coming to your place?" That was a good question. He didn't know why the idea of seeing you outside of work put all his internal systems on high alert, but it did. His hands were sweating at the prospect of opening the door and seeing you standing there in something other than scrubs.

"I'm not. I'm just going to tell her to come over. No need to make a big deal about it."

"Have fun Pablito." Fernando chimed in. Gavi scoffed and hung up. He called you once again.

"Where did you go?"

"Pedri called me to make sure we were going to the stadium together tomorrow. So, are you going to come here?"

"You never gave me an address. Or a yes for that matter." You laughed out. Your heart beat began to pick up. Did Gavi not want you at his place? Did he have another girl there? 'Why would he be calling you if another girl was there?' I don't know, brain, men are weird.

"Oh. Yeah. Yes. To coming over. I want you to. I'll text you the address right now." Something in your chest tightened at this statement. Your phone dinged, and you looked at the address Gavi had sent you.

"Cool. I'll be there in 20."

The drive to Gavi's place was calm. Old One Direction played over your car's aging speakers. The chilly night air came through the rolled down windows, winter finally making its first appearances in the middle of November. As you got closer to your destination, the surroundings started to look familiar.

Gavi was looking at the street from the window of his bedroom. In his La Masia shirt and black shorts, he had perched for all 18 minutes that it took you to drive over, right after he tidied the house. He didn't want you to think he was a teenage slob. If Gavi really thought about it, he would have admitted: all he wanted was for you to respect him - see him as a man. Someone put together and capable.

You parked at the bottom of his building, texting that you had arrived. He tried not to, but he ran down the whole staircase, swinging the door open before you had gotten out of the car.

"Hey. You know you live like walking distance from Martin?" You said, approaching the front door. Gavi's face soured at this news. He was never subtle about his distaste for Martin. After that night at the club, he had made it very obvious that he thought you should break up with Martin, or at least give him a stern talking to for leaving you to stumble around drunk and alone - especially since he was the one forcing drinks on you.

"Wonderful. I'll make sure to go and give him a nice neighborly gift."

"Like what? A black eye?"

"I was just thinking of pissing in his bushes but now that you mention it I really do think "bruised" is a good look on him..." He lifted his hand to his chin to look like he was thinking. You shoved him off balance, walking towards the door.

"Lets go, Gavi. I get cranky if I don't get all my beauty sleep."

He walked into the house first, holding the door open for you. You were honestly impressed: the place did not look like a teenager's house. The bottom floor was a spacious living room and dining room, with the kitchen connected by a low wall. The tan walls had vintage Barca and Spain National Team posters hung on them. There was a large TV mounted on the wall, a PS5 placed on the shelf beneath it, a pile of games stacked high. His couch was a long L shape. black leather wrapping around a black coffee table.

"You have a Barca coffee table book?" You asked, giggling slightly as you picked up the massive picture book.

"I've been with the club since I was like 11. Everything I own I have it in Barca colors."

You looked over at the stairs and the soft glow from the top of them. Something in you was dying to know what Gavi's bedroom looked like. How many hoodies he owned, what color his sheets were, how many pillows he slept on...

You shook yourself from this line of thinking. Despite the two of you getting closer and friendlier, Gavi was still technically just your coworker. You shouldn't want to know all these things about him.

"Ok where is the stone I gave you?" You put your hand out expectantly, and he dropped the black massage gua sha in it. Gavi moved to lay on the couch, mimicking what he would do in your office.

"Before you sit down, what have you been using as lubricant?"

He snapped his head at you, cheeks and the tips of his ears turning pink.

"I, I, um, lub- why do you need to know what kind of lubricant I use? That's a really personal question?"

You stared at him in confusion, wondering why he had gotten shy and stuttery at the question.

"So I can use that lubricant on you now?" He stood up, swallowing hard. He took several deep breaths before saying:

"y/n, I didn't invite you here to do anything sexual. If this is a joke that Pedri asked you to play it's-"

"Pablo you brainless bitch. I meant what have you been using as massage lubricant, because you're not supposed to scrape the stone across your dry skin."

You both stared at each other for a long moment. You had one brow raised, smirk playing on your lips. You were holding back a laugh at the thought: Gavi was thinking you wanted to know what he used to jerk off. Or sleep with someone. That second thought made you slightly nauseous. Gavi's eyes were wide, his mouth still open in shock. You had the courage to speak first.

"I see that the reason you have been feeling pain is because you have been giving yourself microabruises. Go get some oil or lotion so I can do this for you, and I expect my gas money in full tomorrow on my desk."

"Can you, uh, turn around?"

"Why?"

"I don't... I don't want you seeing where I got the lotion from."

"See now Pablo, if you had just gone upstairs, I would have thought it was from the cabinet or the bathroom. But since you've made it weird, you've confirmed that it's from your bedside table. Just go before you make this situation more sexually awkward."

“No but I-“

You held up one finger to your lips to silence him, then pointed in the direction of the stairs. He shuffled past you awkwardly and then took off, taking the stairs two at a time. You laughed to yourself. It was always funny seeing glimpses of innocence and youth in Gavi, especially since he was always pushing himself to act older and more mature.

Pablo was not having a good time. He ran to his bathroom to splash cold water on his now violently blushing face. He thought you would be able to see the mess of clothes in his bedroom if he opened the door. Now the conversation had shifted into an oddly sexual realm, and he didn’t know how to deal. The idea of sex didn’t usually embarrass him - it bothered him when the guys would talk about nothing else, but he thought he had finally reached a level of maturity where he could say “pussy” and not giggle. So why was he so damn shy right now? Why was he embarrassed to his core that you had mentioned him jerking off?

Pablo would describe his masturbatory habits as efficient. Once he and his teammates at La Masía turned 14, the medical staff had all sat them down for “the talk”. Obviously there was the parental stuff about safe sex and all that, but from a sports aspect he knew: sexual frustration is bad for performance. So a couple nights a week he would rub one out hoping to ensure optimal performance. Lately, however, he has lessened his “alone time” significantly. Since Ferran had shown him that picture of you, since he started daydreaming about holding your hand, the feel of your skin, he was borderline afraid to jerk off. He didn’t want to see your face. Coming to terms with the fact that he liked your company was already too overwhelming. Pablo was convinced this was a waiting game: you were just new and exciting. Eventually he would see another picture of another girl, and you would go back to “that one girl physio”, and he could jerk in peace.

He came back downstairs, sheepishly handing you a tube of lotion, and then quickly laying on the couch, hoping to avoid your line of sight.

“Lotion for Men? Gavi, you know that your skin won’t melt off it the product doesn’t say ‘for men’ right?”

“We had a media intern last year that saw a tube of strawberry chapstick in my bag, and she sent the picture to 3 or 4 gossip instagram pages, saying ‘look! Stuff for women! Gavi has a girlfriend!’ So now I only use stuff that can’t be mistaken as something for my nonexistent girlfriend.”

“What if they think you have a boyfriend instead?”

“That might be ideal actually. Then maybe I could go home without being mobbed.”

You smiled at Gavi, who was now more relaxed and far less red. His arms were crossed behind his head, legs stretched out and shorts rolled up slightly so you could access the upper parts of his thighs. You placed some lotion on his legs and began rubbing it in.

“Wow. Does the rest of the team know you offer private massage services?” He asked, resting his head and looking up at the ceiling.

“Obviously not. You think Ferran would ever leave me alone if he knew this was an option?”

Gavi laughed loudly at this. Watching you reject and diss Ferran on an almost daily basis was the highlight of training. Sometimes your responses were so creative that he would run to write them down before the end of the break. His personal favorite was when Ferran asked when you two were finally going to go on a date, and you replied with ‘After my lobotomy next week so my brain is immune to mind numbing conversation with you’.

But as he looked down at you, Pablo noticed that your face was twisted in distain. You began moving the stone around his thighs, working in sweeping downward motions. The frown lines etched hard into your skin, eyes narrowed in concentration and slight disgust.

“Does Ferran make you uncomfortable?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“So the answer is yes he does.” Gavi’s voice was lowering with genuine concern. He and the team, the coaches, and even the rest of the physical staff only really laughed at or brushed off your daily interactions with the player. He hadn’t realized how deeply the comments were bothering you. But now it was evident as you swallowed and started working his thigh a little harder.

“I don’t want to speak ill of your friend.”

“If he’s bothering you, you should have told me. Or someone else on the team. We could have made him stop.”

“But why wasn’t me telling him I didn’t like it enough to make him stop?”

You pressed harder into Gavi now, stone running alone the muscles in his calf. You should have been using a lighter hand, but emotion you had been suppressing for months was all bubbling to the surface.

“You’re going kind of hard on my leg…”

“Why does it have to be you or Xavi or Dr. Gonzalez? Why do my words hold so little weight? So little value?”

“Okay this is painful now-“

“Why does it have to be one of you to say ‘hey, you shouldn’t make sexual remarks to someone on staff’? You think he tells anyone else their ass looks good in scrubs? Or that he’s glad their office has a door with a lock? No. It’s just me. Because I’m a girl he can talk about fucking me in broad daylight around the whole squad, and I have to shut up and keep him happy or I lose my job. It’s just so-“

“Ay fuck y/n!” Gavi yelled out, grabbing your wrist and tugging it forcefully to get you to stop your abuse on his leg. You grabbed his other thigh with your free hand, digging your fingers into the flesh. He looked you in the eyes, and finally noticed the tears starting to form.

“I know how you feel.”

"No you fucking don't, Pablo!" You yelled back, hand digging into his thigh, the other still in his grasp. This is when the first tear finally fell. I had been weighing on you for weeks - the slow realization that you were never going to respected in the way you deserved. A part of you knew that Martin was contributing to this burden as well. The arch of his brow when you talked about sports medicine terms, the mocking smile that played on his lips. The way he had adopted Ferran's disgusting little pet name of 'nurse'. You were disintegrating from the inside, and knowing that the others thought it was a joke, that Pablo thought it was a joke, was the final straw.

Gavi could do nothing but stare. His eyes softened, taking in your slumped form. It was like watching Hercules fall to his knees. Like watch the stars were falling from the sky and hitting the Earth in a fiery blaze. Watching you, who was normally so cool, so confident, so self assured, shake with silent tears was breaking something in Gavi. The way you said his name made his heart physically ache. You rarely diverted from his nickname to use his first name. 'When you did, it usually indicated a serious tone 'Pablo' meant there was something serious, something heavy. Now that heaviness was against your throat, suffocating you, and you were tired of carrying it.

Gavi stopped thinking. He acted on impulse only. He tugged the wrist that was in his hand, pulling you in. Your head met with his hard chest, and you felt one arm circle your shoulder. You remained like this for a long moment: up against Gavi, his arm pressing you into his chest, his shirt soaking up the wetness on your cheeks.

"'m sorry. I wont let him talk to you that way anymore."

You composed yourself, pushing yourself off Gavi and wiping your eyes. You looked away, embarrassed that you'd made him comfort you - that you'd broken down in front of him.

"It's okay. I can deal with Ferran."

"But you shouldn't have to."

"It's not your job to protect me, Pablo."

You finished the rest of your job in silence. Your fingers moved expertly around his skin, working out the muscle and pressing into his flesh, a soft gasp or hiss from Gavi being the only sound to fill the room. Your anger was irrational, but you couldn't quell it. You had gotten this far in life without the protection or defense of anyone, and you weren't prepared to be coddled now. You finished quickly, wiping your hands on your pant legs and moving to grab your bag.

"I'm going to go now. Get some sleep for tomorrow's match against Betis. Good night." You tried to walk past Gavi without looking up, but he blocked your path.

"You're in my way."

"You're not leaving while you're upset."

"You want me to stop being upset? Stop pretending you give a shit about my feelings. You want to look like a man? Telling off Ferran so people think you're a good person?" You shoved past Gavi once again, and once again he moved in front of you, blocking the door completely.

"Just because you're older than me doesn't mean I'll let you disrespect me in my own house. I'm not pretending to give a shit. I do give about your comfort and your feelings because last I check, we're friends. I've been waiting to break Ferran's shins for weeks, I've just been waiting for you to say so."

"You think it would make me feel better for you to hurt a teammate? Could you be any more juvenile?"

Gavi took a step towards you, arms crossed over his chest, breathing more heavy. He looked you straight in the eye, not allowing you to break from the gaze.

"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."

You walked to your car, turning to gaze at Gavi, who leaned against the door frame, watching you intently. You were the most confusing person he had ever met. You were stubborn and easily irritated. You refused to accept help. You were fucking frustrating. But as he watched you walk to your car, something warm filled his body. He didn't want you to leave. He wanted to rush after you, pull you into his chest again, and take you upstairs. He wanted you to see the mess in his bedroom. He wanted you to lay on the couch. And the drive didn't feel like you were going home. It felt like you had left something important behind.

The next morning you were up before your alarm. You couldn't find sleep or peace. Your words to Gavi had eaten you alive all through the night. You knew you had been too harsh, projected too far onto him, but you hadn't been thinking straight. It hurt differently to think that he was laughing at your expense. The guilt followed you around all morning as you prepared yourself for the match. You slicked back your hair, pulling it away from your face, and dressed in the slacks and pullover that all the field medics were regulated to wear. But as you sipped your lukewarm coffee, the guilt still sat in your stomach, swirling and festering and making you nauseous. So you swallowed your pride with your last sip of coffee and pressed the call button.

"Uh, hello? Am I late?" Gavi's voice asked, raspy and dripping with the remnants of sleep. He sounded like a child who was woken up for school.

"Oh no, you're not late. I'm up early... couldn't sleep."

"Why not?" Gavi was now fully awake after processing that you had called him. His heartrate elevated slowly, the sound of your voice helping the tiredness slip away from his very being.

"I... I feel guilty about yesterday. I shouldn't have taken out all my anger on you and your thigh tissue. I really appreciate you looking out for me. I guess I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

Gavi was leaning against his sink, swaying back and forth and smiling stupidly. You were thinking about him. You appreciated him. It made him swell with pride. He listened intently to the rest of your apology, hypnotized by the sound of your voice.

"There's no need to apologize doctora. I understand that you were upset."

"But I still feel bad. I was.. pretty mean to you yesterday. I want to make sure that you're not still upset with me."

Gavi looked into the mirror, smiling and dancing at your response.

"If you really want to make it up to me, I would like to cash in my favor."

You were in the process of grabbing your keys when you paused, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"Favor? I don't remember owing you any favors."

"La doctora, you don't remember? Let me refresh your memory. You go home drunk and don't set an alarm. I come up with a wonderful and convincing excuse for Dr. G so that you don't get in trouble. You owe me, and I quote, anything I want. Ring any bells?"

You scrunched your face and groaned in distain. You remembered rather vividly now the promise you had made.

"Alright Gavi, hit me with it. I can take it. How am I repaying you saving my job?" You heard a low chuckle from the other side of the line.

"You'll be driving me home from the stadium starting today until we break for Christmas."

"What?!"

"You'll be driving me home. Pedri is working with Adidas for several campaigns over the next month, and it'll be a pain getting home after practice. Since you know the way now, you can get there easily. And hey, you can even visit Martin afterwards."

You started your car, thinking about the ask. It was on your way home anyways to drive by Gavi's neighborhood. And it would probably make you both even after your missteps.

"Fine. We will discuss further in the stadium when I see you. Go go, prep for the match. I want us to win today."

"We are going to win for sure. Give us a harder goal."

"Don't be arrogant Gavi. See you at noon."

Matchday at the camp was always extremely hectic, but especially for the medical staff. Meetings started at 9am despite the game not beginning until 3pm. All the equipment had to be approved by La Liga through inspection. Your wardrobe was inspected as well, and once again you were told off for not removing your rings. You pulled them off your fingers begrudgingly, hearing once again the lecture about rings tearing gloves. You were already over the match by the time the players started to arrive.

You made your way to the locker room to do some checks on players with pre-listed discomforts, making suggestions to prevent injury during the game. You were greeted warmly by the players as you pulled out your clipboard and pen. You made your way around, telling certain players to wear compression socks, and instructing others to stretch in certain ways. You made your way over to Pedri and Gavi, pulling out your notes.

"Pedri, how is that right thigh?"

"Amazing, y/n. I've been using resistance bands nightly like you instructed. I feel as flexible as playdoh."

"Always great to hear. Also congrats about the expanded Adidas contract." Pedri lifted his shirt over his head and looked at you somewhat confused.

"Ah thank you but... which contract specifically?"

Gavi's eyes were wide in panic. He had forgotten to fill in Pedri about his little white lie. It was true that Pedri had some filming with Adidas, but it would take about 3 days max. There was no reason that Gavi could pinpoint that would make him lie to get you to drive him home for 4 weeks. But he did it anyways, and now he needed to make sure it didn't collapse because of a lapse in communication.

"Gavi told me you'd be filming with Adidas, so I'll be driving him home until the Christmas break."

Pedri shot a look to the younger boy, one eyebrow arched, and found the expression of desperation on his face. The smile crept onto Pedri's face, proud of his friend for finally making some sort of move with you, even if he was yet to admit it was made because of the crush he was harboring.

"Oh that's right! They have us filming a lot of content at night to show off the color of these new boots, so it's really helpful that you'll be taking little Gavi home."

The sigh of relief was almost a little too loud. Gavi would fill Pedri in later, but for now, he was glad that he hadn't been caught in the lie.

"Anytime. Now onto little Gavi himself - how is the thigh tension?" You worked on Gavi, evaluating his physical form.

"I didn't know the nurse was making house visits today!"

Your jaw clenched and eye twitched at the sound of Ferran's voice. You took a deep breath, calming your nerves, and continued to check for signs of bruising and distress, crouched close to the ground to inspect Gavi's thighs.

"Wow Pablito, got her on her knees for you? You'll have to tell me the secret."

"Ferran, you couldn't get a dog to love you if you were covered in bacon. Be quiet and get changed so you can sit on the bench for 90 minutes."

You looked up at Gavi, shocked at his response. You squeezed his thigh, causing him to meet your concerned gaze.

"Gavi, tell me to shut up again and you'll be preparing for a prolonged hospital stay."

"I'd like to see you fucking try, Torres." Gavi moved from his place, approaching Ferran, before a hand from Pedri gripped his shoulder. One of the assistant coaches noticed the argument and rushed over, eager to prevent his players from killing each other.

"What the hell is going on?"

Ferran looked at Gavi with disgust, and then turned his eyes to rest on your chest.

"I think y/n is creating an uncomfortable environment in the locker room. I'd prefer if she wasn't here." He said, smirk playing on his lips. Your face paled, the colors draining and nausea bubbling. The last thing you needed was a complaint from a player.

"She wasn't doing anything except looking at my leg. She didn't even speak." Gavi responded, voice high and a touch too loud to be respectful.

"y/n, it may be better if you leave for field inspection. Send in Antonio to continue current problem rounds."

You nodded and walked out of the locker room, feeling utterly embarrassed. All you ever wanted was to make a good impression and be respected, and it seemed that no one paid your wellbeing any mind. You bit back your feelings and went to find Antonio. Gavi was not as merciful.

"What mental deficiencies do you suffer from that would make you say that? What if she loses her job?"

"She won't lose her job. She'll get a warning because of player complaints, and then she'll come to me and do whatever I ask to get the complaint removed. Just want to watch her bend over that desk just once before they realize she's incompetent."

"Say nasty shit about y/n in front of me again and I'll kick your fucking teeth in."

Ferran wanted to laugh, but the sound died in his throat when he saw the look in Gavi's eyes. His eyes were angry, cold-blooded, and murderous.

"You wouldn't dare." He retorted, trying to regain some confidence by calling the bluff.

"We play football for a living. I can make it look like a fucking accident." With that, Gavi left the locker room, ready to be away from Ferran and his punchable face.

Normally, you loved being on the sidelines for matches. You got to watch all the action as it occurred, and you got hands-on experience with the Barca players and the visiting teams (maybe it was bad, but you prayed Joao would need medical attention when Atletico was at Camp Nou). You got to enjoy every aspect of your job, and feel like you had come a significant way in your journey. Normally. Today, you wish you were at home or in your office or anywhere but the sidelines. Word had gotten back to both the coaching staff and the rest of the team about the little disagreement in the locker room, and now all eyes were on you. Xavi gave you the normal courtesy head nod, but gave you specific instructions to stay away from the bench and the players. It was a mortifying experience, and you prayed this game would end quickly and painlessly.

Your wish was granted in the first half. The team was playing cohesively and relatively safely, with a couple fouls here and there but no injuries requiring any attention. Lewandowsky scored a goal in the 34th minute, putting the team in the lead 1-0 at the half (during which, you were asked not to be in the locker room or the tunnel). This only made you feel worse. Player complaint were the kiss of death for any aspiring professionals in sports. You get into a disagreement with a player? You're gone. Why? Because there are thousands of physios and photographers and water boys, but only onw left forward worth 48 million Euros.

In the second half, however, you did not get your wish. Areal collisions came one after the other, requiring you to rapidly check players for any sort of head trauma. In the 67th minute, Gavi assisted Pedri with an amazing goal from deep in the box. You jumped when you saw the ball hit the back of the net. Pedri did his signature goal celebrations, and after he pulled away, your eyes locked with Gavi. He raised his eyebrows at you and you returned the gesture, and then he resumed the aggressive attacking. At minute 70, you were contemplating packing your things. The intensity of the match had died down significantly. Barca were passively looking for a third goal, and were not as prone to injury. This all changed in minute 72, when the midfielder decided he hated Gavi. Dribbling with the ball, Gavi was trying to turn to give him more options to pass or dribble, but he was surrounded by three people. As he tried to break free, the Betis player's knee collided with Gavi's groin. Hard.

The sound of the collision and then the fall to the ground sounded like it was heard in the entirety of the stadium. Your jaw went slack and eyes went wide. Gavi was on the floor, unmoving. You didn't even think, using enough brain power to grab the medical bag at your side, and then sprinted across the field to Gavi. There was a crowd of players surrounding him now, creating a tight ring of people. You approached the group, placing your hands on the nearest person, and then shoving.

"GET OUT OF THE WAY! MEDIC! MOVE!"

You finally go the bodies to disperse, and laying there was Gavi, tears in his eyes and whimpering from pain. He had one arm slung over his face, and the other gripped his shirt in immense pain. When he saw you approach, he looked at you with pleading eyes, begging for anything that would stop the throbbing pain he was experiencing.

"Gavi, where did you get kneed exactly? Where is the most intense pain?" You asked, kneeling to the ground and pulling on your gloved.

"My... my dick. I got kneed in the dick and it feels like hell." He replied. He was in too much pain to be shy. His dick fucking hurt, and he wanted anything to soothe the pain as quickly as possible.

"Gavi, I'm going to touch you now, okay?" You asked, hand hovering over the area. He nodded, not fully processing what you were saying or what was happening. You placed your hand over his dick and his eyes shot open. You began to massage the area slightly, moving your hand around, trying to prevent receptors of pain from activating and working to increase blood flow to the area.

And increase blood flow you did. Gavi felt the blood begin to pool in his shorts, and now that the pain was subsiding the embarrassment was returning, he took in what was actually happening. You had one hand on his cock and balls, moving them around slowly, and one on his hip, making sure the area wasn't sensitive. You looked up at Gavi, who was still in somewhat intense pain.

"Here, give me your hand." You placed your hand atop his, guiding it to his injury.

"Keep moving your hand around where you got kneed, and we'll get you on the bench. I would give you ice but I don't think that's idea here. Can you walk alone?" Gavi nodded, and you and the medical staff cleared the field. Gavi walked to the bench himself, earning cheers and love from all the fans in the stadium. He sat on the bench, continuing to massage his bruised genitals, and trying to make his blush subside by the end of the match.

After a stunning 3-0 win, you were ready to go to bed and never wake up again. Your whole body ached, and you had gotten dizzy from the sun exposure mixed with the biting chill of late November. You were barely able to drag your body to the players area - which you still could not enter. You received an email on your phone saying that Dr. Gonzalez would speak to you personally regarding the player complaint. Just as you were ready to burst into tears, Gavi emerged from the locker room, Pedri trailing close behind.

"Enjoy the game today?" Pedri asked, pulling you out of your trance.

"Loved it. I just wish Gavi could stop running into people so I could have a better viewing experience."

Gavi took this as an opportunity to enter the discussion, groaning on about how the other teams bullied him and were extra tough on him as the three of you walked to the garage.

"See you tomorrow, Pedri." You waved, unlocking your car and climbing into the driver's seat. He waived at you, and approached Gavi to hug him goodbye. As he pulled the younger boy in he whispered in his ear.

"I don't know how you thought of this little lie, but now you're going to be alone with her every day for four weeks. Ready to admit that you like her?" Gavi let out a fake laugh, playfully slapping Pedri on the shoulder.

"I don't like her like that. I just want to relieve some burden off of you, Hermano."

"Mhm yeah I'm sure. Just try not to get hard watching her drive on your first ride home. Wait until day 4 or 5." With that, Pedri walked to his own car, getting ready to call Fernando and update him about the circus that was Pablo's love life, and enjoying only being mobbed by 1/2 the normal amount of fans.

Gavi walked to your car quickly, climbing in and tossing his bag in the back. He tried not to think about Pedri's words. He was perfectly capable of sitting next to you, his friend, without being aroused just because you were a girl. At least he hoped he was. He was not hunched over and thinking deeply. Why did he decide that this was the best way for you to repay him? It's not like Pedri had ever complained about chauffeuring him around. And it's not like he didn't enjoy rides home with Pedri, listening to Quevedo and making idle conversation. But lately he just wanted to be around you - make sure you were okay.

The ring of your phone broke Gavi's train of thought. You answered on your car's speaker.

"Hola Martin. How are you doing?"

The sound of Martin's voice twisted Gavi's intestines, making him nauseous and fatigued. He hated the sound of his voice, the thought of his face, the words that he strung together and decided to say to you.

"Hola sexy. How are you doing this evening?"

You rolled your eyes. You knew exactly why Martin had chosen to call at this time. You had texted him earlier in the day, asking if he would be home that evening so you could drop by. This had led to a brief inquisition, with Martin wondering why you wanted to see him suddenly, and why you would be in his neighborhood. Once he found out it was because you would be in a car with Gavi alone, something in his behavior switched. He suddenly wanted to be a doting boyfriend who called and checked up on you.

"I'm doing well. You're on speaker in the car. I'm driving Gavi home right now."

"Are you still coming over afterwards? I've missed you so bad." Martin whined out that last part in such an animated way that it made you want to laugh. You knew what he was doing. He wanted to assert his dominance over Gavi, and make it think that you were going to swiftly go get railed by Martin right after you delivered Gavi at his doorstep. the truth was, despite dating Martin for several months now, you two had yet to go all the way. There had of course been kissing and some heavy petting, but no articles of clothing had never his the floor.

"I'll see how I'm feeling after Gavi leaves and call you then. Bye Martin." You said quickly, hanging up the call once you took a quick look at the disgusted look Gavi had plastered on.

"I'd mock you if I didn't think I would throw up." He said, trying to be lighthearted but failing. You didn't reply, feeling slightly embarrassed that he had to listen to your boyfriend's weak attempts to prove his manliness.

"No it's okay, go ahead and mock my boyfriend who moans on the phone when other people can hear." Your laugh was also stiff and forced. The call had made the air thicker and the mood more tense. You handed Gavi the phone, instructing him to play some music so that you weren't sat in the awkward silence that Martin seemed to always create between the two of you.

"This is a lot of pressure now on me. I'm never on AUX." He says, scrolling through his music. He pressed the song, and the sound poured from the speakers.

"Enrique Iglesias? Isn't he before your time?" You asked, smiling from ear to ear. You loved Cuando Me Enamoro, and the familiarity helped release the tension from your shoulders. As the song played, you started softly singing along. You opened the cover of the moon roof, allowing more of the street light to enter the car.

Gavi turned to look at you, examining your features. Your eyes were soft, focused on the road ahead of you. Your fingers drummed against the steering wheel to the beat. You had one leg up as you drove, leaning into the door slightly. Your lips moved along with the lyrics, singing contently. Gavi could not move his eyes from the sight. Your lips forming every letter were drawing in his focus, hypnotizing him. He never wanted to look away from the soft pink flesh. His thoughts began escaping his control. He wanted to hear you sing louder. He wanted to hear you speak, watching those lips talk about anything your heart held a passion for. He wondered what they would feel like against the pads of his fingers. He imagined what it would be like to kiss them - softly at first, just to feel their warmth and softness. Then harder, to interlock with his own, to bite them, pull them, have them stretched around him, make them cry out his name.

"Pablo?"

He snapped up, giving himself whiplash. Gavi had not noticed that he had rested himself on the center console, leaning against his palm and daydreaming so deeply it drowned out the sound of your voice calling his name.

"Sorry to disturb your deep pondering, but we're here." He looked up at you, vision still rose tinted from the deep dive he had conducted on your lips. His mouth hung open, wanting to say something, but the words would not form in his head. He wanted to touch you. He wanted you to be closer. But he couldn't say it. So instead he extended his hand for a fist bump, coupled with a quick mutter of 'goodnight'. He grabbed his bag, quickly closing the door and digging for his keys.

"Gavi?"

He looked back at you. Your eyes locked for a moment. His hazel eyes conveyed an emotion that you couldn't understand. You didn't want to look away from him.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" There was a plead in the question that didn't escape either of you. It was a request. You wanted to see him. His eyes softened, crinkling at the sides as a smile spread across his space.

"Of course, doctora. Drive safe, and let me know when you get home."

Your eyes remained locked until Gavi shut his front door. He leaned against it breathing deeply, as you leaned your head against your steering wheel. You both felt a deep longing for the other, the feeling of "I miss you" sinking in as soon as the door clicked. But he got off the door, and you turned your engine back on, and you both ignored the feeling that something was missing.

Gavi was proud of himself. He was only half hard after leaving the car, despite the most sinful and inappropriate thoughts about your lips festering in his mind. He tried to eat, but he had no appetite. All he wanted to do was call you, text you, read your old messages. He threw his phone on his bed. He didn't understand why you now took up so much of his headspace and thought. He went to shower for the third time that day, hoping to relieve the tension permanently etched into his limbs.

You knocked on Martin's door for a third time. You had called him from Gavi's to let him know you were coming. He answered the phone out of breath and rushed, telling you to just come over, and hanging up quickly. It was night and day from the concerned lover that had called earlier. On the drive over you rationalized his behavior. Did you really have time for a boyfriend that wanted to talk to you often and be with you and have sex and sleepovers? No. You were busy and focused on advancing your career. So maybe Martin and his distance and indifference was actually perfect.

He finally opened the door after three rounds of knocking and two phone calls.

"You're here sooner than I expected." He said, cheeks slightly pink and breathing fast.

"Yeah Gavi lives really close by. Can I come in?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at his form, which blocked the entryway entirely.

"Uh," he looked over his shoulder before responding, "yeah sure. Come in." You entered his house, removing your shoes at the door. Martin had called you "backwards" the first time you did this at his house. As a person in medicine, you couldn't comprehend tracking the entire bacteria ecosystem onto the floor of his house, but it was one of those things you just agreed to disagree on.

"Making sure the other girlfriend left before letting me in?" You laughed, and he spun around quickly, grabbing you by the shoulders and leaning down to look at you.

"I know you make a lot of jokes, but this can't be one of them," he said, his tone somber and serious. "Don't ever joke about me being a cheater. It's not who I am and I am a better person than that." You were shocked by his sudden change in mood, putting your hands up in surrender and apologizing.

Gavi laid awake in bed, legs tangled in the sheets, moving from one side to the other, unable to find a single moment of rest. He checked the phone on his nightstand every couple of minutes, waiting to see your name light up the screen. Why weren't you home? It had been over an hour since you had left his house. Martin was definitely not interesting enough to keep you at his place for so long, especially after a match day. The longer he thought about it, the more the sweat pooled on his brow and the dread seeped into him. Maybe you two were having sex. Maybe you would be spending the night at his house, and Gavi would never get the "I'm home" text. He tried to calm himself, but everything irritated him. Why did you have to leave him to go to your stupid boyfriend's house? Why did he want you to tell Martin to fuck off and lay on the couch with him? Why did he want to know so badly if you two were having sex?

As with most news he got about your relationship, he heard the tip from Ansu who obviously heard it from Ferran: after three months together, you and Martin had still not had sex. After the initial 'why the hell are you guys talking about this', Gavi started to listen to Ansu's gossip as he packed his things after practice. He heard about Martin's complaints.

"Apparently, he told Ferran that she will kiss him and touch him and make him hard, then she will pull away and go home. He said first it was like exciting - ya know, being teased, playing hard to get. But now he's kind of getting impatient ya know. Ferran told him to get another girl."

"To break up with y/n?" Gavi asked a little more enthusiastically than he intended. Pedri looked up from his phone and raised an eyebrow at Gavi, but refrained from making a comment. He wanted to go home, and he knew the longer this conversation continued, the longer it would be till he could sit in front of his TV and play FIFA.

"No not to break up with her. Ferran was like 'oh you know she's wife material like she is good in front of cameras and will look nice for your Wikipedia page. But if you want to have sex just go to a girl in a club and sleep with her and then do the couple shit with y/n when you feel like it. You already set her expectations low."

Pedri swears to this day he saw the smoke rise from Gavi's ears at the suggestion that Martin cheat on you. In football and in life, Gavi hated cheats. He wanted to tell you, but was advised against it.

"Unless we hear that he is actually cheating on her, there's no need to hurt her feelings or add stress to her life."

So now he sat in bed, frustrated in more than one way, as he thought about you and Martin having sex. He closed his eyes, hoping to conjure up a new mental image, but all he saw was you. You were in the same sweatshirt and leggings that you had come over in the other day. Martin was nowhere to be seen. You were in the living room, laying on the soft leather of the couch, beckoning Gavi over.

He felt the blood begin to pool and his cock start to harden. He threw one arm over his eyes, groaning loudly. It had become a common occurrence for him to get horny when thinking about you, but usually he could will the image away by reminding himself that you two were friends and would not be anything more. Usually. Today it wasn't working. The image of you on his couch, licking your lips and calling him over refused to disappear. The tighter he closed his eyes the stronger it got.

He moved his hand to palm his aching erection through the fabric of the boxers he had worn to sleep. The you in his head was standing now, playing with the hem of your sweatshirt. The sight of skin (imaginary as it was), encouraged him further, and set his very skin ablaze. He pushed down his boxers, stroking himself slowly now. In his head now, you had slowly stripped away your sweatshirt, leaving you in a bra and tight leggings that cupped your ass in the most sensual ways. He was panting now, breathing heavily, switching between stroking his cock and playing with the head. In his mind you stripped off your leggings, leaving you in just your bra and panties for him to stare at, taking in the sight of your body. Beads of precum formed at the head, which he spread around, teasing his most sensitive nerves. He knew once he came you would disappear, and he didn't want to be without you.

The real you was in a similar position: seductive and shirtless. You were currently under Martin, shirt having been discarded somewhere in the living room as he pressed you into the couch. He broke from you to pull off his shirt, then captured your lips once again. You move fervently to match his pace. He kneaded your breasts between his hands. Rough. Everything Martin did was fast and rough. And you tried to keep up, but the only sounds leaving you were heavy breaths from exertion, not arousal.

The scene in Gavi's head switched perspectives. He was now on the couch, legs spread open, inviting you in. You walked towards him slowly, and he drank in the sight of you. You crawled onto his lap, straddling him, and rested your forehead against his. Your eyes, your lips, your breasts - the image of all three sent shock waves through his body and straight to his cock. He gripped it now. He wanted to turn to his nightstand, grab something to lubricate with and stroke in earnest, but he was afraid he would lose the vision of you.

In Martin's house, the real you was searching for an escape. Martin was kissing your neck, grinding into you like a dog in heat. After a few minutes he noticed that you had gone silent, even your breathing relaxing now. He came up to look at you. What kind of girl didn't get turned on from activities like this? He decided to switch positions so that you were laying on top of him, and he dug his fingers into your hips and ass pressing your clothed core against him. He was unmistakably hard, but you felt nothing. There was no pool in your panties or heat in your loins. You were kissing him hard but felt, well, indifferent. Like you might rather be doing laundry.

In Gavi's head, you were a puddle. He had captured your lips between his own, kissing you deeply as you rocked against him, the kiss only breaking when he hit your sweet spot, causing you to moan out. He let his hands roam your bare skin, and he could almost feel the warmth. Fingers resting on your waist, he moved with you, rutting against each other and chasing your release. He looked down at the two of you, watching the wet spot on your panties grow as you ground your clit into his hard-on. He moved to your neck, kissing and suckling until little marks bloomed on the skin. You whimpered out, and now Gavi wanted to do everything in his power to make you moan in earnest. You were looking at him with those gorgeous eyes, begging, pleading, imploring Gavi to do more. And he wanted to do so much more.

The action ended for the real you rather quickly. Martin was pushing you against him, bruising your pelvic bone as he chased his own orgasm, almost forgetting that you weren't a sex doll. You decided to help finish him off quickly and go back to your place. Maybe you would still have time for that laundry. You placed your hands on either side of his head, his face basically buried in your breasts, and you started to grind into him earnestly, rocking your hips in a way that you knew drive men crazy. Within 45 seconds he was cumming in his pants, moaning loudly, and pressing into you so hard you were worried it would leave marks. You gave him a quick kiss and tugged your shirt back on. You both exchanged words about seeing each other soon, and you walked out of his house to your car alone and unsatisfied.

Gavi was almost in pain. His cock was angry and throbbing, begging for him to stroke himself in earnest. But he couldn't do it dry, and he would rather remove his cock entirely than lose this dream of you. You were now in front of him, on your knees, touching his upper thighs. He felt the ghostly sensation on his skin as he remembered every time you pressed your fingers into the muscular flesh in your office (or on his couch). You pulled down his boxers, and his cock sprung free. You leaned over and let your tongue hang from your mouth, your drool flowing on to his cock. Gavi brought his hand up and spit in his palm, pretending it was you. He brought it back down and began stroking, long fluid motions from base to tip. You were also stroking him, looking up at him with those big innocent "fuck me" eyes, and he couldn't stop himself from moaning out.

He wanted you. He wanted you to be on your knees for him, on his lap, under him in bed. He wanted you. He had never been harder in his life. And then he got to those lips. Those pink perfect lips that spoke to him so gently, teased him, called out his name - in his mind he watched them stretch over his cock. His self restraint snapped. He brought his hand up again, spitting into his palm multiple times, and beginning to stroke his cock rapidly. He wished it was you. He wished it was your smaller hand wrapped around him, so he could guide you to stroke it in just the way he liked. He was playing with the head of his cock now, imagining your lips sinking deeper and deeper over him, looking up at him with tears in your pretty eyes.

There was no more pretending and no more care. The sheets were thrown off, the room filled with heavy breaths, groans, and the squelching sound of Gavi pumping his cock. His dream you had pulled of and was now leaving gently kisses on his cock, licking the head shyly. Your lips were red and swollen, a product of his passionate kisses and his member. Gavi was almost there. He squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could, trying to see you, imagine you more clearly. You were alternating licking at his slit and sucking on his head. He was gone. Moans of your name mixed with "please" filled his room. He wished you were there. He wanted to feel your skin, the smooth warmth under his finger tips. He wanted to hear your voice, soft and silky and telling him how good he was going. He was so, so close. He had never edged himself this much in his life, but he wanted to keep watching you.

The dream you pulled off of the head of Gavi's cock, placing a kiss on it, before crawling back up his body. He tried to capture your lips in yet another kiss, but he couldn't. He felt you drape yourself over his thigh, grinding into the muscle there as you pumped his cock for him. He fisted his own cock at a bruising pace. He would deal with the consequences afterwards. Now he was ready to cum to you, for you. You leaned into his ear, still riding his thigh, one hand wrapped around him, and you moaned out,

"Pablo."

His orgasm washed over him in a tidal wave, knocking the air out of him. He moaned your name out loudly, filling the whole house with his sounds of pleasure. Cum landed on his chest, and he continued to pump himself through the orgasm, thinking of you and riding out his high. When it was over, he calmed himself and worked to slow his breathing. His eyes were still screwed shut, but you weren't there anymore. He was alone and covered in his own load, and he was still thinking about you.

Once he had composed himself (and his legs were stable enough for him to walk, he went to the bathroom and cleaned himself, donning a new pair of boxers to actually sleep in. Once he returned to his bed, he saw his phone light up.

[Doctora]: I just got home. Have a good night Pablo

His chest got tight again as he laid in bed, staring at your words to him. You hadn't forgotten. He set his alarm and laid down, the exhaustion from his orgasm settling in now and making his eyelids heavy. When he closed his eyes, he saw you again. This time you were fully clothes - in one of his hoodies and a pair of his sweats. You were in bed next to him, arm stretched out, beckoning him to come closer to you. Gavi hugged one of his pillows close to his chest, imagining it was you sleeping in his arms, and drifted off.

[Gavi]: Have a good night, doctora. Dream of me

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

A/N: not proofread because I don't feel like it. I hope you al enjoy this part! I think this is the last part of 'exposition'/ setting up their dynamic, so relationship building will start in the next chapter, so I hope you all stick with me for the rest of the story! I love hearing all your reactions in the comments, so please don't be shy to comment! Or if you're a little shy, feel free to send me an anon ask!

Also please comment if you want to be added to the taglist ok bye

*~*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

#pablo martín páez gavira #pablo gavi slow burn #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi #gavi x reader #gavi #gavi x you #gavi fluff #fc barca #footballer imagine #footballer #pablo gavi fluff #gavi fic #pablo gavi fanfiction #gavi fanfic #gavisuntiedboot #gavi imagine

734 notes · View notes

ihavethedreamies · 7 months

Text

Beginner's Luck | Easy to Expert (3 v1)

Lee Yongbok (Felix) & Yang Jeongin (I.N.) - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~3k

Felix/AFAB!Reader/I.N.

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Fluff

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Fingering, Cosplay (Fox Lingerie), Multiple Partners, Oral (F! And M! Receiving), Threesome, Double Penetration, Anal Play, Sex Toys - Butt Plugs, Anal Sex, Unprotected Sex (Bad Idea, Don't Do It)

Author's Note: I was supposed to just do a part two for Felix's Easy but now I have these as well…

-> Series Hub <-

-> Part 1 <-

-> Part 2 <-

-> Ver. Seungmin <-

-> Ver. Hyunjin <-

-> Ver. Han <-

-> Ver. Lee Know <-

-> Ver. Changbin <-

-> Ver. Bang Chan <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"Is she really sure about this?" Jeongin was unsure when Felix first brought it up and still was. About a week ago, the older guy came to him with the proposition, and anyone would be stupid to say no. He just wasn't sure why you chose him. Someone like Chan or Hyunjin were more obvious choices, he was just Baby Bread…At least, that's how he thought you saw him. Jeongin kept his hands in his pockets as Felix led him up to your apartment. It had been a few months since you two had started dating, and Jeongin was shocked that you were so…adventurous.

"Are you sure?" Felix turned to him before he plugged in the key code to your door.

"Yes! I mean…" He blushed, "I want to but I'm just not too confident."

"Look, just do what we say, and it'll go well. We'll talk about it ahead of time, but you don't have to do anything you don't want." The elder reassured the maknae who nodded, psyching himself up.

"Okay, hyung." He nodded and then fist-bumped Felix before your boyfriend let them both in.

You heard the door lock chime as he unlocked it and you shuffled awkwardly. You were in your bedroom, standing at the end of the bed. Felix was right on time. You fiddled with your bra; the furry texture tickled where it fell past the underwire. Your panties were a similar story, the orange faux fur was at least soft. The wraps of the same material around your wrists were a bit itchy though. Your thigh high socks were the same color orange, and the feet were black. A slightly uncomfortable head band sat on your head, two pointed ears sticking from the top. You shifted your weight to your other hip, flinching a bit at the feeling of the plug in your ass. The fox tail hanging off of it made it tug weird at your insides. At Felix's behest you had prepared already so you didn't have to worry much about getting ready while Jeongin was also there. The whole thought of a threesome was already kind of overwhelming, and then he wanted to put you in the costume. It was arousing though, just slightly embarrassing.

"Love?" Felix's deep voice called out.

"In here!" you replied, and you heard them whispering to each other and presumed they were removing their coats, shoes, and bags.

"Oh, you look amazing, love." Felix complimented as he led the younger in and you wished the tail could wag as well.

"Shit." Jeongin swore under his breath, his face blooming red.

"You like it, Jeong?" You brought your hand to your face innocently, swaying a bit, the tail swaying too.

"Fuck." He swore again and wanted so desperately to go to you. But you weren't his girlfriend, he was the third wheel.

"Rules…" Felix started, holding his finger up.

"First, you cannot kiss her-"

"On the lips." You put your finger over your mouth. That made sense.

"Everywhere else is fine." Felix continued, "Two!"

"Listen to him." You motioned to Felix with both your hands, "Three…"

"Only I get the pleasure of her cute little ass." The elder continued, pulling you to his side and kissing the crown of your head. Honestly, Jeongin was perfectly fine with that. He thought it would have been the other way around.

"Four!" You held up your fingers.

"She can suck you off, but you cannot cum down her throat." Felix crossed his arms, and that rule threw Jeongin off.

"She likes it too much, only I can." The elder finished and Jeongin decided to dwell on that later.

"Finally, only if you're okay with it…" Your boyfriend looked at you to make sure you were still okay with it.

"You don't have to wear a condom. But you have to pull out." You finished and he nearly choked. Really?

"You're clean, right?" you asked, and he nodded right away.

"B-but what-" the other man asked, but you cut him off.

"I'm on the pill."

"Oh, okay."

"Good." Felix clapped his hands, then turned to you, "You wanna help him out?" And you nodded, skipping over to Jeongin. He was a bit taller than Felix and you looked up at him with big ole' eyes and he swallowed hard. He desperately wanted to break rule number one. He flinched when your hands went to his shirt, rapidly undoing the buttons. The maknae was too focused on what you were doing he didn't notice Felix undressing in the back and getting various things out from the nightstand. After you removed his button up, you even helped him take the long sleeve shirt off he had underneath. You were pleasantly surprised by what you saw, his arms were nicely defined, you already knew this, but so was his torso. His metabolism was so fast you never thought he would be able to get even that level of definition.

"N-Noona-" He tried to stop you when you fell to your knees in front of him, helping him out of his pants. Then he remembered one of the rules Felix had set. If you like swallowing cum, you probably also liked swallowing dick. You shot him an innocent but coy look when you came face to face with his crotch, cock straining against the cloth of his boxers. Before you pulled the hem down, you turned to look over your shoulder at Felix and he nodded, fiddling with a box of something. He pulled out three bottles, one pink, one green, and one orange.

"Strawberry, Melon or Peach?" Felix called and Jeongin was almost too distracted by your removing his boxers to hear your answer.

"Peach." You finally answered, then looked back to him staring at you.

"Can I?" You asked and he cleared his throat.

"Yeah, 'course." He licked his lips nervously. You shifted on your knees, the plug shifting inside you, and you whimpered softly. You nearly yelped when it started to buzz inside of you.

"F-Felix!" You squealed and he smiled down at his phone. He didn't tell you it vibrated! Little shit…

"Go ahead." Felix prompted you and moved the attached tail to a better angle, then wrapped your hand around Jeongin's cock. He gasped, watching in awe as your tongue flicked over the tip, the ears on your headband flopping some and you readjusted it with your other hand.

"Fuck!" His breath left him when your mouth swallowed the head, and you just kept going. He had a long cock, and you still buried him completely in your throat which made him whine.

"Noona~" He flexed his fingers at his sides, but there was no rule about touching you. Carefully he rested one hand on your head, holding one of the ears. Felix and you both knew you much preferred to have him do the work, you would just sit there and let him fuck your throat. But Jeongin didn't get that privilege. It wasn't a power thing to your boyfriend, just simply that, that Felix was your boyfriend, not Jeongin. As you sucked him off your other hand pumped what was left, you knew to listen to Felix. Outside of the bedroom, he was incredibly sweet and soft, but it turned out you liked it even rougher than he first thought. Before you could barely cum no matter what you tried. Now, it was like he could snap his fingers and you would fall apart. When you felt the younger man's cock pulse in your grip, you knew he was close, so you pulled your mouth off and grabbed him with your other hand. He then noticed your black painted nails and he groaned as he came, the white fluid painting your face and flowing over your hands.

"Woah~" You were impressed with the amount that came out, and despite wanting to taste, you knew better. You scooted back, holding your hands out, one eye closed to prevent anything from getting in it.

"Shit! Sorry!" Jeongin panicked and Felix chuckled, coming to you with a wet towel. He dotingly cleaned you off and kissed your brow as he stood back up. The younger watched, the affection not surprising him the least, but your submissive attitude sure did. You were usually pretty feisty, in a positive way, and you spoke your mind. It was then the maknae noticed what you were wearing around your neck. It was a black silk choker that had a pendant dangling from it. When you turned back to look at him, still on your knees, he saw that the heart-shaped tag had Felix's name on it.

"Does it hurt?" Felix asked as he came back, your hands adjusting the headband. You shook your head, and he helped you up and you scurried to the end of the bed. Kneeling back down on the floor in front of your boyfriend, he smiled and petted your head softly. He clicked his tongue when your hands ran up his thighs toward his covered hard-on, and he poked you hard on the forehead. You yelped dramatically and he smiled.

"Not tonight, love. Get up here." He patted the bed and you got on, laying in an obviously practiced position. Jeongin went over at Felix's prompting, running his hand through his hair, it was sticking to his forehead some from sweating.

"Kneel there." Felix pointed and Jeongin did so, finding himself eye level with your cunt. The furry panties you had on covered your pussy, but there was a hole in them to allow the tail plug to sit inside you unhindered. He let his hands run slowly up your thighs till he got to the hem of your underwear. Turned out there were ties there and before he undid them, he made sure Felix was okay with it. He nodded and so he pulled on the ribbon and carefully removed your panties, making sure to be careful of the plug in your ass. You whined and wiggled under the maknae’s gaze. While Jeongin knew that the tail was where it was, it was still a little bracing. Fun little (Y/N) turned out to be Felix's little slut.

"Go ahead.” Felix prompted and Jeongin leaned in, placing his hands on your spread thighs. The scent of your arousal hit him, and his mouth watered. Was Felix really going to let him tongue-fuck you? You were soaked, the clear, thick liquid dripping from your cunt and onto the end of the tail plug.

"Use your fingers." He listened to his hyung and when he was about to use just one, Felix corrected him. Jeongin didn't have a ton of experience, but he had enough to know what to do. But Felix did know you better.

"Fast." The elder wasn't pressuring him to hurry up, just telling him to do it like you liked it. His fingers pressed to your quivering hole and immediately pumped the two digits in, and you mewled. Your gummy walls clenched his fingers and he huffed.

"Press down." He did, and he could feel the plug buzzing through the wall of your pussy. He could feel the hard silicone as well and you whined louder when he pressed again.

"You can taste." Felix told him and he swallowed, taking his fingers out and licking them clean. Jeongin groaned and Felix smirked, coming around to look at your face. The younger couldn't see from where he was, but your boyfriend cooed at you.

"You want his tongue, love?" he asked, and you nodded.

"Go ahead." Jeongin nodded, and gently put his hands on your thighs, opening your legs more. If he was given the chance, he was taking it, so, he immediately stuck his tongue inside your cunt as deep as he could. You nearly wailed, his tongue pulling out to swirl around your clit before diving back in. Felix grinned in pride when he saw that, yes, it felt good, but you weren't twitching like you did with him. Jeongin was enjoying it more than you, almost, and his cock was already rock hard again.

"Alright." The elder came back around and Jeongin immediately pulled back and nervously wiped his face.

"Sit at the head of the bed." Jeongin followed as directed and Felix helped you move and kneel at the foot.

"Go ahead, love." Felix kissed the crown of your head, and you crawled over to the other man, tail swinging where it stuck out from your ass. Jeongin nervously sat there when you straddled him and you took his hand, bringing it to the front clasp of the bra. He unclicked it with ease and helped you take it off and he turned red. You were so pretty and cute, he couldn't believe you wanted him. Your hands readjusted the headband again, clearly in annoyance. Jeongin loved the cosplay, but he didn't want you to dislike it. He reached and plucked it off, tossing it to the side. You smiled and you sat down on his lap, your warm thighs hugging his, you let his cock rest against your stomach. The fur of the tail tickled his knee and you turned to Felix. You sat patiently as he joined you two on the bed, the orange bottle in his hand. The new set he got had a warming effect and you hadn't tried it yet.

"Okay, love, sit on Jeongin's cock." Your boyfriend allowed and you eagerly sat up on your knees more to place the head against your twitching cunt. Slowly, sighing, you let him plunge inside. The younger man groaned as your tight hole surrounded him. He wasn't as thick as Felix, but just as long, if not more so. You leaned forward, hands on his shoulders, placing your head in the crook of his neck.

"You can hold her." Felix huffed, amused by the bashful maknae. He carefully hugged you and you leaned forward more and Jeongin realized what you were doing. He could feel the silicone plug through your pussy where it sat in your ass. You whimpered in anticipation. You and Felix hadn't tried anything like this yet. He filled your cunt while you had a plug in, or fingered you while in your ass, but this was new. He made the anticipation build on purpose. Were there dildos that would work for the same purpose? Sure. But where was the fun in that? Plus, Felix liked having control in an odd way, more than he expected. He also enjoyed seeing that no one else could please you like he could.

"Okay, love." Felix came up closer and Jeongin held you closer when your own grip tightened. He ran his hand up your spine soothingly, his other resting on your opposite hip, his thumbs brushing the skin. You let out a whine and he huffed, trying to keep still, and Felix slowly pulled the tail plug out. You had already prepared and lubed your back hole, but he really wanted to be sure. Spilling some of the orange lube on his cock, Felix groaned at the warming feeling.

"Ready, love?"

"Yes, 'Lix." you answered and began to breathe carefully and the younger gasped along with you as Felix pressed his cock into your ass. You let out a moan the entire time it took him to slowly fill you. Jeongin didn't think you could have gotten any tighter than you were. You shivered once they were both in you fully, and Felix helped you change position, so you were sitting up more. Right when you hit a certain angle, they both notched in as deep as they could and you keened, feeling incredibly full. It was incredible, Jeongin watched the sanity leave your eyes, and it was like your irises turned to hearts, instantly going cock drunk.

"Hm, you like that, huh (Y/N)?" Felix whispered in your ear, and you nodded, dazed.

"What do I do hyung?"

"Just wait a sec." Felix instructed and you squeaked when he pulled out some then thrust back in. Your ass was used to his cock by this point, but being filled double was a lot. You weren't in any pain, and he could tell you were close already.

"Okay, just take slow thrusts with me." Your boyfriend prompted and at almost the same time, they both pulled back just an inch, before grinding back into you. Your head fell forward between your shoulders, chin touching your collar bone. Your nails dug into Jeongin's shoulders, and he hissed at the slight sting, not minding at all though.

"Hold on," Jeongin requested, and Felix held you up as he adjusted so he could thrust up easier. They both started slow, but were in sync, and your head swam. Your skin and insides were on fire and your mind was so foggy you couldn't form a single coherent thought. Felix huffed in amusement, and you fell forward more, hands going to dig in the sheets as they both picked up the pace.

"F-Felix~" You gasped, and he knew that meant you were close.

"Harder." he told the younger and they both picked the pace up, Jeongin panting hard, trying not to cum yet. He wasn't allowed to since he didn't put a condom on. Your raw heat around him was going to drive him crazy.

"N-Noona!" He warned and you yelped as Felix pulled you off, Jeongin cumming over both of your stomachs. Your now empty cunt clenched desperately on itself. The younger man nearly gasped when he watched Felix manhandle you into the doggy position at the foot of the bed and started to fuck you hard. You squealed in delight, your front falling to the bed, drool pooling on the sheets.

"Good girl, take my cum, love." Felix praised and that was when Jeongin realized Felix's cock was raw as well. You fell over the edge as Felix did, your ass already warm from the lube heating up. The heat traveled through your whole body and Felix felt your cunt squirt your own cum on his upper thighs.

"Fuck, good girl, (Y/N)." Your boyfriend cooed and you flopped boneless onto the bed.

"Did Jeongin do a good job too, love?" Felix asked you.

"Mmhm." You hummed in agreement which earned you a smirk. Felix then looked at the younger man, "beginner's luck."

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

Stray Kids Master List

75 notes · View notes

drawingnovels · 2 months

Text

LNDS: Kids with MC pt. 2!

Hello hello again! Some of you may have seen my previous post, so now it’s time for the rest of them!! Of course, I’d like to once again thank @goldenstring6123 for their post about the boys as parents; it inspired me to draw and make my own headcanons. Their post mentions Zayne and MC adopting two kids which makes so much sense to me and Xavier and his son… Precious!!! Their writing is amazing and the rest of their content is chef’s kiss so go check out their stuff if you haven’t already!!

MC x Zayne

The older brother has excellent penmanship, a lot better than MC’s and his sister’s

Has the best grades in the school, seen as the model student

He’s a popular guy, friendly with everyone and always lends a hand, but doesn’t let any outing with friends interrupt any time with his family (his sister has to reassure him that yes, it’s fine to miss one of her practices)

He often likes to help whoever is cooking by cutting or washing vegetables and other things

He likes cats, but cats don’t like him

Whenever Zayne is seen eating something sweet, he asks his father how much he’s had (Zayne: “… Some things are only meant to be between my dentist and I.”)

Helps his sister with studying and has amazing lot of patience

The younger sister is a rising star in ice skating!

Whenever she visits Zayne with MC and her brother, she always leaps into his arms, even when he’s having a conversation with his colleagues; his coworkers see firsthand how sweet and fatherly Zayne can be…

She has poor eyesight and uses contact lenses; doesn’t like wearing her glasses very much

She’s Zayne’s dealer for sweets and is happy to be rewarded with a loving head pat

Often asks others to tie her hair up for her, Zayne is really good at braiding now

LOVES bandages that have cute designs on them and puts them on her fingers even without any injuries, causes Zayne to worry before being told it’s for fashion

Likes to go shopping with MC, whether it be for fun stuff or regular things needed around the house

MC x Xavier

Has to be stopped from getting all the plushies from the arcade, though he does give a lot of them out to other arcade goers

One of his most prized possessions is a telescope that MC gifted him, he often brings his parents to look at the stars with him

Animals LOVE him; there’s been many times when he’s been approached by deer or rabbits on camping trips

A surprisingly good cook, thinks its funny that Xavier can’t

Sees Xavier napping and often joins him; MC has many pictures of the two of them together

Likes to take photos, but the subject matter seems to be pretty random (“Little star, why did you take a photo of the back of my head?”)

Often has mismatched socks

Reads comics/manga, but doesn’t watch a lot of tv

Has a stuffed rabbit sewn from his childhood blanket, it still presides on his bed as he grows older

Likes to wear casual clothing, isn’t too happy when he has to wear a suit for an event

If brought to headquarters, wants to help everyone by bringing them snacks or drinks; everyone just thinks its cute to see him run around

Calls Tara “auntie”

Of course, when he does start to train, he shows a lot of promise

Kitty Cards champion

I’ve had a lot of fun drawing and writing these! These are also kind of specific, since I was thinking about my MC ^^ Thanks for reading!

#lnds #lnds zayne #lnds xavier #love and deepspace #love and deepspace mc #l&ds #my art

27 notes · View notes

lambsouvlaki · 1 year

Text

For the Hell of It - A Training Exercise

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: G, swearing.

Word count: 1,764

Summary: Jason and her her run through a pretend-kidnapping for training purposes.

Masterlist

-----

BWAAAAAAA!

Her eyes cracked open to Jason standing at the foot of the bed, holding an air horn.

She stared at the ceiling and placidly considered that she might be dating the worst person alive. The haze of comfortable sleepiness clung to her despite the rude awakening. She was not someone who snapped awake quickly.

“Yes?” she asked.

“You’ve woken up in a strange place. You don’t remember how you got here, assume you were kidnapped. The door is locked. There is no sign of your captors, but you don’t know how long that will last,” he said, dead serious. “What do you do?”

Andy blinked slowly at him. “I ask the guy with the air horn not to blow it again.”

BWAAAAAAA!

“Genuine answers only.”

He lifted the side of the mattress up, dumping her on the ground.

“Oh no,” she despaired, sitting in a pool of sheets and blankets on the hardwood floor.

“What do you do?” he demanded.

She breathed in deeply. Okay. Okay. “I put pants on.”

“Go on then.”

She stumbled up, and shuffled to her clothes folded atop the dresser.

They were in a countryside cottage for a weekend getaway. The night before had been normal enough, although Jason had been dropping pretty obvious clues all week that he had something planned. She had waxed her legs but also brought hiking boots and the first aid kit.

Alas, the lovely romantic night before had lulled her into a false sense of security. They cooked together, enjoyed the privacy of the cottage, and had an early night in. Their relationship was young enough that they were still acclimating to sleeping next to each other, but she was very relaxed and fell asleep quickly.

She tied her hair up, half tucked her blouse into her pants, then yawned. Kidnapped, huh? She tried to remember what the Safety in Gotham City pamphlets said to do, but couldn’t come up with anything.

“Now what?” Jason asked. He was fully dressed in sturdy civilian clothes from the beginning.

“Um. Is it better to try and escape or to stay where I am in the hopes of not making it worse?”

“For the sake of this exercise I’m not here. What do you think is better?”

She pursed her lips in thought. She jiggled the door handle. Yup, locked. Hmm. She looked out the window. The bedroom was on the second floor but with the gently sloping roof of the first story below them. There was no sign of anyone outside, it was a lovely autumn morning in fact.

If she were kidnapped and moved to a second location, she should try to escape, right? They said that chances of being found dropped to almost nothing once you were moved to a second location. For her, either they would be using her to get to the Red Hood, or they were just a regular serial killer. The latter might actually be the safer circumstance now that she thought about it.

She grabbed her handbag, opened the window, and climbed out. The tiles were cold beneath her feet.

Jason followed without comment, sliding the window closed behind him.

She inspected the edge of the roof, with its overhanging gutter, and the large bricks of the wall below.

“It was very kind of these kidnappers to not tie me up, or blindfold me, or anything,” she commented, while committing to the awkwardness of clambering backwards over the edge.

“Consider this easy mode.”

She hummed, not liking that one bit.

Now that she thought of it, he had made a promise a few months back to teach her some proper survival skills. It was probably overdue, all things considered.

“This doesn’t really feel like training,” she said. “Feels more like ‘watch Andy make a fool of herself’.”

He smiled and didn’t say anything.

Asshat.

She landed on the gravel of the driveway. She winced at the sting to her bare feet. She should have grabbed her socks, but her shoes were in the cottage entrance. Her hands were already sore from gripping the bricks. The last of her sleepiness was thoroughly gone, leaving behind only uncaffeinated grumpiness.

The car they’d arrived in was still in the driveway, unmoved. She tried the driver’s door and found it unlocked, but who knew where the key was.

The gravel and the cold were making her feet sting. She stalked back towards the front door.

“You’re going back in?” Jason asked, aghast.

“I thought you weren’t here.”

His lips twisted. “Fine. Go on, re-enter the building you just escaped, through the front door.”

“I’m not wearing any shoes!”

He looked wholly unsympathetic.

“Wait, is that why you always have some boots under your bed?”

“Gotta be ready to go.”

“Huh. I guess that makes sense. But I doubt kidnappers are going to be so thoughtful.”

BWAAAAAA!

“Ah!”

She snatched the air horn from him.

“Make a decision,” Jason said. “What are you doing?”

“Oh! I put my hiking boots in the car!” She spun back to the car, and pulled them from the back seat. Opening and shutting car doors was probably not stealthy behaviour, but in the absence of any clear threat, she was going to take that chance. She had shoes, but no socks. She’d have to make do.

Now what?

She sat in the driver’s seat, and rubbed her temples. Jason sat himself in the passenger seat and looked at her expectantly.

The air horn was back in his hands.

Damnit.

She grabbed the screwdriver and pliers from the glove box, then she reached beneath the dashboard and pulled out a bundle of wires.

Jason leaned back in his seat, eyebrows raised and arms crossed.

She got the car started. She put it in reverse and backed out.

“So how’d you learn how to do that?” he asked.

“Youtube tutorial?”

He snorted. “Try again.”

She sighed. The road from the cottage was a long winding single lane road for about a mile before it rejoined the main road, hedged by old red oaks. Their broad leaves glittered with dew under the early sun.

“After I got out, I didn’t have a nickel to my name. Getting legit work as an ex-con is, well, you know. And I couldn’t stomach the other options. My old cellmate offered to help me out, but only if I helped her with a little something first. Clearing out a dealership.”

“Well look at you, miss grand theft auto.”

She shrugged, terribly embarrassed. “It was just the once.”

“Those skills are still useful, I don’t care how you got ‘em”, he said, as frank as always. “What else can you do?”

“Not very much,” she said, her shoulders relaxing some since he wasn’t making a big deal of it. “We, uh, don’t keep up.”

He leaned an elbow on his window ledge. “Much gas left in those dealership cars?”

“I think she brought some cans.” Her eyes swept over her own fuel gauge. It was empty.

“Did you syphon out the gas?” she asked. “Of course you did. Of course.”

She gripped the steering wheel, tired, frazzled, and hungry, as the car slowed to a stop. Jason had the gall to smile.

“So now what?” he said.

“Now I commit a murder.”

“Uh-huh. And after that?”

“We walk,” she said sourly.

They set off into the woods in the direction of Gotham. She had a good sense of direction and recalled from the view at the cottage that the grounds sloped down towards the city’s outskirts. She ate the snack bar she kept in her bag and emptied her water bottle, offering Jason none. He didn’t seem to mind.

Her lack of socks was really aggravating. He owed her a foot rub tonight, damnit.

Just as the sun reached its height, they came across a shed with a couple of old quad bikes in it.

That made the day a little less galling, and they rode across some wild fields with what appeared to be an abandoned horse obstacle course, crossed a river, and then crested the slope of a hill. Wayne Manor sat before them.

“Oh thank fuck,” she muttered.

There was nobody home, upstairs at least, but apparently Jason had expected this. They cleaned up and raided Alfred’s pantry for a late lunch.

She was much more sore than she expected from what was really just a bit of unexpected walking.

“How’d I do?” she asked, face down on the kitchen bench.

“Could be worse,” Jason said, amused, as he assembled some sandwiches. “Could be better.”

“Give it to me straight.”

“ Your idea of a getaway needs some work, but we’ll go over how to handle that later. You need to learn how to pick a lock, and how to move quietly. We made good time on the hike, and your wilderness survival craft is surprisingly good for a city girl.”

“Thank you,” she said, grasping the positive while she could. Jason tended to give reverse compliment sandwiches.

“Your situational awareness is non-existent. You were walking around in the open outside the house without a care in the world.”

“Fair.”

“You also forgot shoes and socks exist.”

She groaned.

He patted her head.

“Besides the socks, and the not paying attention to anything, did I make the right calls?” She tilted her head to fix one eye on him. “Should I have trekked through the words or stuck to the road?”

“It’s not about whether you made the optimum decisions, nobody ever really does.” He brushed a loose curl of hair back from her face. “It’s about my learning how you handle an emergency, so when the time comes I can predict what you’ll do and meet you halfway.”

“Oh. That makes sense.”

“For example, I would never have guessed you’ll hot wire any vehicle you can get your hands on.”

She pulled herself up with puffed up indignation. “I will not. I won’t hotwire anything later than 2003. Too many anti-theft measurements.”

He snorted a laugh. “Not with a little more know-how, there aren’t.” He slid her a plate and pulled up the stool next to her.

“I was a touch more confident than I would have been without you there.”

“I know.”

She took a big bite of her sandwich, then registered his shark-like smile.

She pointed a finger at him. “Just so we’re clear, more than one fake kidnapping a month and I’m leaving you.”

He laughed. “Alright, no more surprises until at least October.”

“November.”

“It’s worse in the cold.”

“Bring it on,” she said with undue bravado.

Next >>

#Jason Todd is innately a menace #he must be free to make problems on purpose #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x oc #red hood x oc #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #my fanfic #for the hell of it #dc

134 notes · View notes

potatoplace · 1 month

Text

Omega Needs - Chapter 7

Feylin, eventual Feysand

chapter 6 | chapter 8 | series masterlist

Story Summary: Feyre presented as an omega after being changed into a high fae Under the Mountain. Her heats have been hellish, and Tamlin has neglected certain aspects of her presentation. After the disastrous wedding ceremony, how will Feyre’s omega handle being away from her Alpha?

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, light smut, not proofread

Words: ~5.4k

Author's Note: here it is!! I am so damn excited for this chapter, it is probably my favorite in this series so far. Poor sweet Feyre, so ruled by her omega... also I miight have had 'guilty as sin?' Playing on repeat for the last 2k words hehe 🤭 I hope you guys all enjoy this chapter!!

18+ only pls

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

The sun was shining brightly when a noise pulled Feyre from her dreams.

“Feyre?” It was Mor. “Feyre, wake up, we brought breakfast.” There were footsteps and the sound of someone rustling through her wardrobe, then something soft hit Feyre in the face.

Feyre bolted upright, eyes wide as she stared at the Alpha- her citrus and cinnamon scent was overwhelming and delicious, so much so that Feyre was tempted to drag her straight into her nest.

“We?”

“Yes,” Mor smiled. “Rhys is waiting outside, he wanted me to check and ensure that you’re decent and comfortable with him coming in here. So, are you?”

Feyre put on the dressing gown that Mor had thrown on her, coincidentally it matched her nightgown and long socks, then loudly stated “Yes, you can come in Rhys.”

Rhysand entered the room with a smile, a tray overloaded with food in his arms. He set it down on the table, then began scooting it over to the edge of Feyre’s nest and moved the two chairs as well.

His scent flooded Feyre’s nose, the salt water and citrus scent was so refreshing, and Feyre nearly dragged him into her nest, the urge even stronger than when she had scented Mor. Feyre had already scooted towards the edge of the bed closest to the alpha without even realizing it, and stopped once it registered in her brain.

Feyre. Get a hold of yourself, she mentally scolded, and tried her best to breathe in the smell of the food rather than the two wonderfully scented alphas seated in front of her.

Mor took a seat and began dishing out food for herself while Rhysand plated everything for himself and Feyre. There were scrambled eggs with diced potatoes, onions, peppers and small slices of sausage, pieces of toast accompanied by pots of jam, and bowl filled with chunks melons and orange slices.

Rhysand stood at the outside edge of Feyre’s nest, plate in hand, but didn’t move to pass it to her, instead asking “Is it alright if I hand it to you, Feyre?”

Again with the level of politeness and care towards her nest that she had never been given back home. “Yes, that’s fine Rhys.” He handed her the plate, then a napkin and fork before sitting down. “Thank you, Rhys.”

“You’re welcome, Feyre darling,” He said with his soft smile, the one that Feyre though made his face most beautiful. Though she would never tell him that, it would inflate his ego far too much.

“We can skip training today, if you’d like.” The offer came are a few comfortable minutes of silence while they ate.

“Why would I skip training?” Feyre asked. She feels fine, though she would protest if she had to leave her nest at all.

“I just thought I would offer, is all. And practicing in here is no issue, either.”

Feyre bobbed her head, happy to have that confirmed again.

“So Feyre, was there anything you thought of during the night that was missing?” Mor asked, her eyes tracking Feyre’s movements, every lift of her fork to her mouth and its descent back to her plate. Feyre looked around at her nest, she hadn’t even thought to wonder if she was missing something, it had felt so instantly perfect.

“No, I think… I think it’s perfect the way it is,” she said softly, a hand gripping the fine silks beneath her. “This is the first time I’ve gotten to choose everything to build my nest,” Feyre admitted, turning her eyes back to the alphas, who were staring at her with shock in their eyes and mouth agape. “What?” Her voice held panic, worried that her nest had offended them, that it wasn’t perfect in their eyes.

“No, it’s nothing Feyre, that you’ve done. It’s just…” Mor started.

“Most omegas, especially the Lady of a court, are given and abundance of fabrics to choose from for their nests. Omegas are rare, and their nesting process is sacred,” Rhysand explained. “If an omega does not feel fully comfortable in her nest, it is unlikely their heat will be fully satisfied even after it ends, and it makes the probability of conceiving even lower than it already is. It’s just… it was odd, to hear that you have not been given this opportunity before.” His voice was gentle, full of his alpha tone to keep Feyre calm as she heard and processed the information.

“I… I didn’t know,” Feyre whispered, tears filling her eyes. She pushed her half eaten plate of food off of her lap and onto the bed, then grabbed a pillow, soft and fluffy, and buried her face in it.

“Hey, Feyre, it’s alright,” Mor soothed. She whispered something in a harsh tone before she spoke to Feyre once more. “I’m sure it’s just because the Spring Court was decimated over the past fifty years, there might be a shortage of the fabrics right now, sweetie.”

Feyre was still leaking tears onto the pillow, her breathing uneven.

“Feyre, it’s okay. You have a perfect nest right here, right now. We can even send you home with all of the fabrics if you’d like, that way you can have your perfect nest at home,” Rhysand offered, his voice so soothing and alpha and the thought of having her nest like this all the time was perfect.

Feyre leapt out of her bed and into his lap, tears staining his shirt as she curled up in his arms and sobbed. She breathed in his scent, unconsciously tilting her nose towards the scent gland in his neck. One of his hands started running through her hair and down her back, the gesture so comforting that Feyre sobbed harder.

Why wasn’t Tamlin like this with her? Why couldn’t he comfort her and teach her what she needed to know about her new biological needs?

Rhysand gave her a few minutes to calm down, his scent and touch quieting the outrage of the omega in her chest. She sniffled a few times before finally turning her face away from his chest, peering up at the alpha holding her.

“Sweet omega.” Her heart skipped a beat at his low voice, and her hand tightened its grip on his shirt. “You need to finish your breakfast, darling. Then we can do some magic training f you still feel up to it.”

Feyre bit her lip. She was embarrassed, yes, that she had crawled into Rhysand’s lap and cried like a child, but she hadn’t felt so safe and taken care of as she did now in such a long time. She didn’t move, hand still clutching Rhysand’s black silk shirt, right above his heart. She couldn’t move, if she was being honest. Her omega instincts had her rooted her, kept in the warm embrace of the alpha who had shown so much care to her over the past four days.

A very, very quiet purr left Feyre’s chest.

That had her bolting out of his arms and back to her spot on the bed, eagerly finishing off the rest of her breakfast as Mor and Rhysand shared a look that she missed.

“Well, Feyre, if there is anything that you think of that you would like for your nest here, or even duplicates of everything for you to take back to Spring, just let me know,” Mor proposed as she stood from the table. “And would it be alright for me to pick out things that I think you would like, if I happen across them while doing my own shopping?” Mor asked, a hopeful gleam in her eyes.

Feyre nodded her head- having someone pick out things that they think would fit Feyre’s taste would be nice. “I would love that, Mor. Just don’t go too overboard,” Feyre warned with humor in her voice.

“Oh, I won’t Feyre. They will be things that scream your name rather than just remind me of you. And it helps that I know what you like, since we went shopping together already.” Mor was over by her bedroom door now, hand on the doorknob.

Feyre gave her a warm smile. “That is true, you know what colors I like and the fabrics I can’t stand.”

“Yes I do, Feyre. I’ll see the both of you later for dinner.”

And then Feyre was alone with Rhysand.

She finished off the rest of her food, and Rhysand made the dishes disappear once she was.

“Do you feel up for training still, Feyre?”

“Yes, I should be able to manage,” Feyre confirmed, already building up the shields in her mind.

“Alright, we will only be doing magic training today, I would like to save shielding for our next week, though I expect you to still practice on your own, is that clear?” Feyre nodded. “Good. Next month we will begin working on having your shielding stamina raised, so that you can eventually have them active at all times. That means that I will be attempting to break into your mind, as gently as I can, at random points throughout the day to make sure you’re keeping them active.”

“Okay, so over the next month I should attempt to keep them active at all times?”

“Yes, that would be perfect, Feyre.” He flashed her a smile, and Feyre couldn’t help but give him one in return.

Something was definitely off with her, today. Though it was her first time nesting in a place other than Spring, and she had learned some… uncomfortable truths about the world that had not yet been shared with her by her actual family. Feyre would just chalk it up to the nesting.

“For today, we will continue with your magical training, and the stretching of your core. When you’re ready, Feyre.”

Feyre closed her eyes and concentrated on that cold mass of power in her chest. It was already more active than it was the day before, it seemed to Feyre that the training was waking it up gradually.

She stretched it as far as it would allow, through the joints of her shoulders this time. When it snapped back, she attempted to hold it, and managed to keep it slightly expanded with some effort.

Her breathing was hard when she opened her eyes, locking them with Rhysand’s. Her lips broke into a grin, even as she was struggling to keep the power in place. “I’ve got it expanded slightly!” She exclaimed, proud of her efforts.

“That’s wonderful, Feyre, try to let it go slowly, rather than snapping back to its original form. Adding that into your training regime will help you gain more control over your magic and make it more reliable in tough situations.”

Feyre did as he said, letting her power relax slowly back into its original shape and took a moment to catch her breath.

She was sweating already, her sleep clothes dampened with it, but she didn’t care.

Feyre was learning.

They spent the next three hours working on expanding Feyre’s core out to her fingertips and releasing it slowly, when Feyre hit a new milestone.

Her power was stretched so, so taut as it neared her fingertips. Feyre was hardly breathing as she concentrated so intensely on pushing it further, managing to coat her fingers in the viscous magic.

And then it happened.

A slight breeze swept through the room, rustling Feyre and Rhysand’s hair as it did so, and Feyre magic snapped back into her chest so quickly Feyre recoiled back into the bed, falling onto her back.

“Feyre, are you alright?!” Rhysand asked fretfully, standing at the edge of her nest and peering at her.

Feyre merely giggled and launched herself back up and into Rhysand’s arms. “Rhys! I did it! I used magic!” She exclaimed, hugging him tightly in her arms. His arms wrapped around her and squeezed her for a brief moment, before pulling away to look at her beaming face.

“You did, Feyre. You have done so perfectly, so wonderfully and I am so proud of you,” Rhysand gushed, and Feyre could feel it in her bones how sincere he was being.

“Thank you, Rhys.” It was then that Feyre remembered how unclothed she was, wrapped only in a dressing gown over her socks and nightgown, and she stepped away from him and back onto the fabric of her nest.

“You’ve earned it, Feyre. Now, I think we should call it a day, if you’d like I can go get us some lunch while you wash up?” He offered.

“I’d like that, thank you Rhys.” Rhysand left the room, leaving Feyre behind to bathe.

She reluctantly left the area of her nest, stripping off her clothes and tossing them into the laundry bin in her bathroom. She submerged herself into the bathing pool and looked out at the mountains in front of her. It was snowing today, a layer of white covering even the valley below, and Feyre couldn’t help but gaze at it in awe.

She hadn’t realized how much she had missed snowfall over the past year. While it had signified death to her as a human, now it was just a beautiful feature of the weather, something that quieted the land around her. Everything seemed more peaceful with the snow falling.

Feyre sighed, longing to capture the landscape on a canvas. Instead, she washed her hair and body quickly, not wanting Rhysand to return while she was still naked in the bath. She got out and wrapped her hair in one towel and her body in another and went to her wardrobe. Feyre dressed in a pair of black leggings and a knit sweater again, this time the sweater in a dark purple that was nearly black. She had slipped on a pair of socks right as a knock came on her door, and Feyre padded over to it.

She opened the door, revealing Rhysand carrying a tray holding two grilled sandwiches and two small bowls of salad. “Come in,” Feyre said, opening the door for him.

He placed the tray on the table once more, and handed one of the plates and bowls to Feyre after she had settled down in her nest. The sandwich had chicken, tomato slices, cheese, and some type of green sauce, which initially threw Feyre off until she smelled the sandwich, the basil and garlic scent was divine.

They ate in silence, Feyre too tired to make conversation and Rhysand lost in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” Feyre questioned after a few minutes of Rhysand’s face being slightly scrunched up.

His eyes met hers, intense violet crashing against stormy blue. “I am wondering why you have been kept in the dark on omega and alpha customs. Nothing against you, of course, I’m just… curious as to why.”

Feyre sighed. “I am… wondering that as well. It seems as though every day here I learn something new that I feel I should have known a year ago.”

“No matter the reason or timing, I am glad that you are able to learn now, Feyre. It is… a very important change in your life, and you deserve to have all of the information you can.”

“Thank you, Rhys.” Feyre gave him a soft smile.

“Well, now that we’re done eating, I’ve got to be off,” Rhysand said as he stood up, vanishing the dishes. “I have a few meetings to attend, but I should be back in time for dinner, Feyre. Are you still wanting to take your meals in here?”

“Yes,” Feyre confirmed. “I don’t think I could be comfortable out of my room, tonight…”

“That is no problem, Feyre. I will see you in a few hours.”

He walked to the door, opening it before Feyre voice made him pause.

“Thank you, Rhys. For everything.”

He looked back at her and flashed her a brilliant grin. “You’re welcome, Feyre darling.” He shut the door behind him, leaving Feyre alone in her bedroom.

Already, she was missing the comforting scent of an alpha filling her senses. Feyre grabbed the romance novel she has been reading from the nightstand and curled in her body pillow. She tugged the blankets up around her body, getting as comfortable as she could before she began to read.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

Feyre had nearly finished the book by the time Mor and Rhysand arrived at her bedroom door again, and it swung open to reveal the two gorgeous alphas on the other side, scents flooding Feyre’s vicinity along with whatever delicious food they had brought with them.

The food was placed on the table, a bowl of… something placed in Feyre’s hands by Rhysand after he got permission to hand it to her. He also give her a small bowl of crackers.

The food in the bowl was made of minced beef, beans, and onions and was very thick, thicker than a stew. Rhysand and Mor were already crushing crackers over their bowls, and Feyre followed suit.

When she took the first bite, she was blown away by the flavor and how comforting the dish was, the extra taste of the crackers only adding to it.

Rhysand and Mor were talking to each other, but Feyre could hardly pay attention to the words they were saying. Between their overwhelming scents and the delicious food, her thoughts were muddled and it was all she could do to keep quietly eating her dinner.

When Feyre finally came to the present again, Mor was already gone, and Rhysand was vanishing their dishes away, Feyre’s included as she had finished her food minutes ago without realizing.

“Are you doing alright, Feyre?” He asked sweetly, and Feyre looked up at him. She nodded without thinking, not having heard anything but her name. “Alright, if you’re sure. I’m going to head to bed, I suggest you do the same, Feyre. You worked hard today.”

Feyre’s cheeks heated at the praise and she bit her lip while staring at him, mind blank. He moved to the door, and Feyre tracked his path.

“Go to sleep, omega,” he commanded in his alpha tone as he shut the door behind him, taking his scent with him.

A whine built in Feyre’s throat, but she suppressed it before it could escape her. The command hung heavy in her mind, and she quickly went to the wardrobe to change into sleepwear. A nightgown similar to the pink one she had worn a few nights ago caught her eye, this time in a rich amethyst. Feyre plucked it off its hanger and slid it onto her body, loving the way the fabric slipped down her like water. The flowing skirt of the nightgown called to Feyre, and she did a few small spins to see the way it moved around her, fascinated by it.

But the command pressed into her bones, her omega calling her to her nest. She slunk over to it, crawling between the many blankets and swaths of fabric covering bed. Feyre pulled the violet body pillow into her body, pinning it between her legs and clutching it in her arms. Her hips rocked gently against the pillow before she finally settled, letting out a deep breath and allowing sleep to claim her.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

The heat was unbearable, so much so that Feyre woke in the middle of the night, legs still clenched around the pillow and hips rocking against it, searching for friction. Without thinking, a hand slipped down to her clothed cunt, pressing against it in an attempt to ease the ache that was building.

A whine left her lips, desperate and wanting.

Her nest was missing something.

Feyre dragged herself out of her nest, into the hallway. A smell caught in her nose, musky and perfect and alpha.

Alpha. That’s what I need.

Feyre began following the scent, pausing her journey only when cramps overtook her ability to walk. She let out another whine, she needs her alpha now.

The scent grew thicker with each step she took, until she reached a door. Her alpha must be in there.

Feyre turned the doorknob, stumbling into the room and falling to her knees as the delicious scent of her alpha overtook her. She sucked in a few deep breaths before standing again.

Bed. Need to get to the bed.

Feyre clumsily made her way to the large bed covered in black sheets and an alpha between them, shaking like a newborn fawn as another cramp rips through her abdomen. She makes it, lifting the sheet and slipping underneath.

His scent is so strong here, and she pressed herself against his chest as close as she could be. The cramps slowly come to a stop as she breathes in greedy lungfuls of his citrus and salt scent straight from his scent gland, her nose brushing against it.

Her alpha stirs when she scrapes her teeth against his neck, taking in a sharp breath.

“Feyre?” Her name rumbled through his chest so perfectly that Feyre started to purr, only nuzzling further into his neck. “Omega, what are you doing in here?”

Feyre moans at her title coming from his lips, the sweetest it had ever sounded in her ears. “Alpha,” she whined into his skin.

Her alpha attempted to pull away from her, so Feyre latched onto him, a leg swinging over his own and arms wrapping as far as she could around his chest. He loosed a sigh, and Feyre stopped purring.

Have I upset alpha?

“No, omega, you’ve done nothing wrong. Just… you should not be in here…”

Tears pricked at her eyes, and a whine dragged itself out of her lungs, prompting her alpha’s arms to wrap around her and pull her in, which instantly quieted her and put a smile on her face. “Alpha,” Feyre sighed, relaxing into his strong arms holding her.

“Alright, omega, you can stay in here until morning. But after that I need to take you back home, alright?” Feyre whined again, stopping once her alpha’s hand stroked along her scalp and down her spine. “Shh, pretty omega. Be a good little omega and go to sleep, okay?” Her alpha commanded gently, and Feyre was helpless against his words, immediately sinking back into the honeyed dreamscape she had awoken from.

🩵💚🩵💜🩵

The sun had barely risen when Feyre woke again, the cramping in her abdomen and heat blazing through her to painful to sleep through. Her alpha was behind her, her back pressed tightly to his chest and his arms caging her in, making it impossible to move anything but her lower half.

She lowered her nose to his hands, breathing in deeply to scent him as best as she could in this position. Instantly, slick gushed out of her, wetting her nightgown even further than it had in the night.

Feyre wiggled her hips, searching for any kind of friction when she felt it- pressed against her rear was her alpha’s cock, hard and already slightly swollen at the base, a promising feeling to Feyre as her cunt clenched, wanting nothing more than to have it inside of her, filling her up with his seed and locking them together with his knot.

She pressed harder against him, angling her hips so that her pussy lips were aligned with his length, moaning loudly when she got the perfect amount of friction to lessen the heat flooding her veins.

Her alpha’s breathing quickened and arms tightened around her for a moment.

“Feyre?” His sleepy voice asked. “What are you-?” He paused, taking a deep breath in to scent her even as Feyre’s hips kept moving against his, she was nearly there-

“Fuck, Feyre, I need to get you home.” Her alpha disentangled himself from her, and she cried out at the lack of contact, heat instantly building inside of her again as she moved her hand down to the apex of her thighs.

Tears were streaming down her face as her pleasure sputtered out, even with her hand moving as quickly as she could manage. “Alpha please,” she cried.

Her alpha returned, pulling her into his arms and she sighed, burying her face in his neck.

“What happened?” Came a female alpha’s voice.

“She went into heat and snuck into my room, I thought she would be fine for a few hours so I could take her back at a reasonable hour, but-”

“But you were wrong, Rhys. There’s a reason her heat came on faster than normal, you know that, so why did you take the chance?!” The other alpha asked angrily. “What would you have done if you lost control, if you had claimed her right now?”

A growl ripped through her Alpha’s chest, and Feyre groaned against his throat. “I didn’t, Mor. Now are you coming with me or not?”

“Fine.”

Feyre kissed and licked at her alpha’s neck as they slipped through the fabric of the world, Feyre hardly noticing the sensation as her mind wrapped around the taste of her alpha. “Perfect,” she breathed against his skin.

“Fuck, what did you do to her?” Came a third alpha’s voice, uneven as he ran up to them.

“Nothing, Lucien. Feyre went in to heat in the middle of the night,” her alpha explained. He tried to loosen his grip on Feyre’s body, but she clung harder to him, lips latching onto his throat as she sucked on it, wanting to leave a mark-

Mark.

Feyre bared her throat to her Alpha, whining to get his attention while he argued with the new alpha.

“Fuck, give her to me.” Her alpha’s arms loosened, and someone’s hands pried hers apart.

“No!” Feyre yelled, attempting to lace her arms around his neck again, even as her body was being passed into the third alpha’s arms. “Alpha please,” Feyre wailed, tears falling freely as she lost her grip on him.

“Feyre, it’s going to be fine, Tam will be here in a moment,” the alpha who grabbed her said, attempting to soothe her, but it only made her more incoherent.

“Alpha,” she cried again, eyes opening to search for him- but he and the female alpha were gone. She sobbed harder, writhing in the alpha’s arms.

“What the fuck happened, Lucien?!” A booming voice yelled, and Feyre cowered into the male’s arms, hiding her face in his neck.

“I don’t know, they said she went into heat during the night, but that’s all I know.”

Feyre was passed to another set of arms, and she curled into them. But it wasn’t right- they didn’t feel solid enough, the scent was all wrong- earthy lilac and cedar, not the perfect soothing blend of salt and citrus that she needed. Feyre bawled harder, turning her face away from the alpha’s chest.

“Why is she crying so much?” The voice was too loud, too angry against Feyre’s ears and she pushed against the chest of the person holding her.

“I…I’m not sure, she’s been crying ever since she was handed over to me.”

“Mother above, she fucking reeks.” A female alpha, different than the one before. This one’s voice grated against her ears, sending more tears cascading down her face. “We need to question her, while the memories are fresh.”

“Are you serious, Ianthe? She is in the middle of her heat, she is in no state to-”

“While the memories are fresh.” The alpha carrying her took off quickly, and in a minute Feyre was being dumped into a hard wooden chair. “Feyre.” She turned her head into her hair, sobbing harder with the loss of contact as her heat built further, becoming even more unbearable than it had been in the wrong alpha’s arms.

“Omega.” The commanding tone had her peeking up, meeting green eyes with her watery blue. “Tell us the layout of where you were staying, and any information that you learned. Now,” he commanded.

Feyre merely cried more, fat arms rolling down her cheeks and onto her neck, wetting the amethyst of her nightgown further.

“She is obviously not going to be able to tell us anything useful in this state, Tamlin.”

“Shut up, Lucien,” he snarled. “If you tell me, as soon as you’re finished I’ll take you upstairs and give you my knot, alright omega?”

The promise of a knot had Feyre wracking her brain for answers, anything to get the relief that she needs, even if it isn’t from the right alpha.

“I… what?”

He repeated the question, slowly, as if she were a child.

She did her best to give him the layout, her mind hazy with arousal and pain as she struggled to summon anything of use.

“That’s really all you have to give us?” The female asked in a condescending tone. “You spent a week there and all you can give us is a vague layout? Fucking useless,” she scoffed, walking away and slamming her door behind her.

The green eyes alpha made to follow her before Feyre cried out a soft “Alpha.” He looked back at, then snarled.

“You smell horrid, omega. Take a bath, I might give you my knot then.” He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him so roughly that one of the hinges broke.

Feyre sobbed, collapsing into the table in front of her.

“Sweet omega.” The one alpha left in the room approached her slowly. “Can I pick you up?” Feyre cried harder but nodded, allowing the alpha to secure her in his arms and take her away from the room.

A few minutes later he set her down on something squishy, and she collapsed back into it.

“Omega, you should take a bath and change, I’ll send your alpha in in a little bit, okay?” The alpha suggested gently, wiping hair out of Feyre’s face. “I’ll make sure you have some time to make your nest, okay?” Feyre nodded her head, not quite sure she had understood him, but she got she got the main gist of it.

Bathe. Change. Nest. Alpha.

The alpha left the room, and Feyre was alone. She dragged her tired body off of her bed and into her bathing room, turning on the tap to fill the bath with cold water. She took off her nightgown, scenting it before she tossed it into the laundry bin.

Alpha. Feyre moaned. Her alpha’s scent was still all over it, and Feyre pressed the dress to her nose, quickly working her clit as slick spilled from her center. She came with a loud moan, the scent of her alpha ingrained in her mind.

Feyre hid the dress in one of the counter drawers, wanting to keep the scent of her alpha around as long as possible.

She slipped into the tub, her orgasm and the cold water soothing the heat bubbling within her down to a low simmer. Feyre lasted only a few minutes in the water before she was pulling herself out, the water heated too much for her to bear any longer.

She dragged herself into her bedroom and grabbed the thinnest nightgown she could find before dragging herself into her bed. Feyre tried arranging the nest to her liking, she truly did, but nothing compared to the perfect nest she had already made.

This one was… horrible. Absolutely horrible. None of the lovely pinks and blue and purples, but dull greens and cream colored linens.

Feyre burst into tears just as her bedroom door opened.

“Oh, now, now, omega. I brought you tea just like you like, Tamlin is busy with some things that are more important than you, I’m afraid,” the fable alpha said as she made her way into Feyre’s bedroom, sitting down in her nest and placing the tray of tea on it as well.

Something in Feyre protested, a growl building in her throat.

“None of that, you foolish omega. Drink your tea, Tamlin will be up to see you whenever he is able to manage.” The alpha shoved a teacup into Feyre’s hands. “Drink,” she commanded.

Feyre had no choice but to obey, drinking down the scalding liquid that burned her insides as it went down.

“I’ll check up on you in a few hours, but don’t even think of leaving your room. You won’t get far in this pitiful state anyway,” the alpha tacked on, a vicious grin on her face as she glared down at Feyre. She took the tray and breezed out of Feyre’s room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Bone deep exhaustion hit Feyre, and in a few moments she was deep in sleep.

Series taglist: @icey--stars

19 notes · View notes