#and I made those gif myself it was a pain in the ass!

[overlyimmersed]

I wanna talk about wings

Just in general, rather than any specific Fairy's wings this time.

SO I was gonna a make a post comparing Fairy wings to irl insect wings, but the most I learned about insect wings the more I found I actually didn't have the point I thought I did, so I scrapped that. But I still wanna talk about stuff so.

I now know a lot about bug wings! which are way more complicated than you might think... They look like they're just "dead" material like keratin on mammalian bodies, BUT NO. Chitin is significantly different actually. It's more flexible than keratin is for one thing. And insect wings are actually made of "cuticle" which is different layers of chitin put next to each other. The veins of insect wings can have "blood" flow and even nerves. So wings are actually kinda living structures. The membrane between the veins does seem to be comparable to keratin, in that it doesn't have the blood flow or nerves. But still it's chitin so it's flexible.

Why was I looking this stuff up? Cuz when Harlequin kills Helbram for the first time and he falls over, his wings look very...fabric-y and that always bothered me cuz I always thought insect wings were more rigid then that. But apparently not. Nakaba may have trouble with human anatomy but apparently he knows more about wings than I do :p.

But anyway, since that always bothered me, and my general obsession with fairy wings, I'm always paying a lot of attention to how the fairy characters' wings move in the anime and in the grand cross mobile game to compare them to each other and look for consistency. I run a full fairy team in Grand Cross consisting of Helbram, Harlequin and Gerheade. I also have Gloxinia and Elaine so I can look at their wings too when need be. So I get a lot of time to observe the wing movements. And there are significant differences between the fairies that have starkly different wing structures. And I suppose I have a theory as to why?

As far as I can tell, the reason for the sharp difference in how the wings move between, say my main 3, had to do with the vein configurations of each fairy's wings. Harlequin, Helbram and Gerheade all have different vein configurations from each other. I took some videos of every fairy's grand cross models during idle movements, as well as when they have an attack ready, to show the differences in the movement.

These two have to be separate cuz when you select an action for all three the battle proceeds.

We already know Helbram has substantial flexibility to his wings. Harlequin's wings move and flex about the same way an irl butterfly's do, which is a moderate amount of flexibility. Gerheade's wings seem to be markedly stiffer. If you look at the vein configurations of each fairy's wings, which are better illustrated in the anime than the 3D models, you can see that they are very different.

Gerheade and Harlequin both have very insectoid looking wings, because to veins fork to create cells like irl bugs. Helbram though, doesn't have any cells in his wings, he only has vertical veins that don't fork at all. And between Gerheade and Harlequin, Harlequin's wings have larger cells in general as well as large central cells.

I'm inclined to believe these differences in the number and size of the cells formed by the veins are what causes the difference in flexibility. Since Gerheade has smaller cells, the veins are closer together giving her a more rigid structure, while Helbram lacks cells altogether so he has very little structure over all, giving his wings are more fabric-like movement. Harlequin is somewhere in the middle. Gloxinia and Elaine fall into the same category as Harlequin as they both have very much butterfly-like wings which have the large and small cell configuration.

All this being said, I still don't actually want to believe that Fairy wings are made of chitin. Simply cuz I don't know if that makes sense. Based on the very limited information we have about reproduction, it seems that Fairies are mammals? And mammals don't make chitin. We do, however, make cartilage. Which is a material that offers comparable flexible/semi-rigid structure to chitin. Like your outer ear. That structure is cartilaginous, you can just fold that right over on itself and it doesn't even hurt. But it still hold it's structure all on it's own. So the headcanon that I've held from the beginning is that Fairy wings are actually cartilage and some kind of skin. I drew a diagram for this when I was figuring out how the wings attach.

The dark grey indicates cartilage

My theory/headcanon is that when Fairies get their wings a fully cartilaginous ball-and-socket joint forms attached to the inner edge of the shoulder blades and underlying ribs. The veins are cartilaginous structures, while the membrane is skin. So, unlike with insectoid wings, if you damage the membrane of a Fairy wing it'll bleed. But, also unlike insect wings, Fairy wings can heal since they're fully living tissue with blood supply through the entirety of the structure rather than just in the veins like insect wings.

[rafesaddiction]

With a firm hand – Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: You've been a brat and Rafe teaches you a lesson.

Warnings: mdni! – smut, manhandling, spanking, fingering, dubcon, oral (Rafe receiving), rough sex, sorta daddy kink, mean!rafe, dom!rafe

Word count: 2.3k

You've been a brat and you know it. No need to give him that look. And those pouty lips won't do you any good either.

“Come here,” he says, his voice firm.

You hesitate, bite your lips. You stand there, wearing his hoodie, skimming your ass, and only your panties underneath. Your hands fidgeting with the hoodie's hem, as if you're trying to hide something from him, while you're pressing your legs together. You can't hide anything from him.

“Don't make me repeat myself.” Rafe sits on the edge of the bed, wearing a white collared shirt and dark pants. He slowly rolls up his sleeves and your eyes are drawn to his muscular forearms and the veins on them.

“But I said I'm sorry. That should count for something, right?” You can't help it, the words just come out though you know you should regret them. You press your lips together, but you cannot help that cocky little smile, you cannot help yourself.

But Rafe has enough of your teasing and your disobeying.

He gets up, you mutter a curse, try to walk backwards, but he his quicker than you. He grabs you and drags you back to the bed. You try to free yourself, but his grip is so firm, his hands on you are so strong, all your little struggling and protests are futile and he just puts you over his knee, face down, as he sits down on the bed himself. And he holds you down. Holds you in positions, just like he wants to have you. The oversized hoodie is shoved up your back by his large hand. You feel the touch of his rough fingers on your skin and shiver. A big hand is placed on your ass and you flinch and make the most embarrassing sound.

He chuckles. A low dark chuckle.

You try and crane your head to look at him, try to lift your body up, but he presses it down again and you exhale in exasperation.

“You gonna behave now?” He asks and you bite your tongue to not talk back, but can't help scoffing.

His hand slowly caresses over your butt, still clothed, but you can feel that touch so intensely, it makes you shiver. Goosebumps crawling over your skin.

His fingers tuck under the waistband at your back, touch your bare skin. You try and wriggle, still wanting to escape, but his other arm pushes you down again.

You tense up as you can feel how he slowly pulls down your underwear, the back of his fingers ever so lightly brushing your bare ass in that movement.

You feel the cool air on your naked skin, but those goosebumps aren't from being cold.

Then you feel nothing. You close your eyes, expecting the worst, but nothing happens.

You hear him hum above you. Again, you try to look up, but he holds you in place.

Nothing happens for a while. You feel your head's getting dizzy from being upside down, your legs are heavy and you feel a little tingling between your legs. You press them together, as tight as you can in your exposed and helpless position.

Nothing happens and you wonder if maybe Rafe has made up his mind, maybe he won't do it after all, maybe he will just let you go. – Would you really want that?

You don't have time to wonder about that, as his hand comes down on your ass and his palm leaves a stinging pain, shooting through your body.

You can't help but cry out, mostly in surprise. And your body convulses, but Rafe just holds you firmer, and another slap lands on your butt cheek.

You press your lips tightly together, try not to make a sound. You don't want to give him that satisfaction – which of course is stupid, he can clearly see how your body reacts. But you try to keep quiet, so only your little whimpers can be heard, his breathing, and the hard slapping of his palm on your naked ass.

He doesn't make you count, so you have no idea when he will stop.

Just one quick smack after the other. Your skin is glowing. You're panting.

When he hits your ass again, especially hard, you don't just feel that piercing pain on your skin, you can feel it crawling between your legs. Another kind of aching. You ache to be touched there. By him.

But you won't tell him that.

But you're unable to keep quiet any longer. You can't help and whimper and whine, when his palm hits so hard, you're sure it will leave marks for days.

You taste something salty in your mouth and realize that you have started crying.

“Please,” you whine.

“Please what?” His tone his harsh and mocking. His hand hits harder. You moan in pain.

“Please –” you try again, but can't say another syllable as his hand starts kneading your ass cheeks, grabbing and kneading your sore flesh.

Your breathing hitches, then you start panting.

“Now what's this?”

You freeze as his fingers dig between your legs.

“Looks like you like this.”

Rough fingers explore your sensitive parts and you make the most embarrassing sounds.

“No, I don't”, you say and you feel your already flushed face is even turning redder, which Rafe luckily can't see.

Involuntarily you moan and your legs start shaking as he roughly plays with your tender spot.

But as soon as you are beginning to relax and give in to this other sensation, he withdraws his hand, only to slap your ass again, and again, and again.

There's no more holding back in your cries now.

And when his palm slowly caresses over your heated skin, your whole body trembles and you start whimpering.

The sensations he's giving you are so confusing for your body and your mind. You know it's a punishment and his hard slaps hurts, he doesn't really hold back and you can feel his strength every time his palm hits your already bruised ass. But your skin is also buzzing and burning with need, aching for every hard and soft touch he gives you.

“Please – ” You try again, begging, crying.

Two fingers push inside you and you gasp for air. At once your walls tightly clasp around the digits, holding them in a tight grip, for just a moment, before Rafe starts fingerfucking you hard and deep.

These are just two fingers, but his fingers are long and thick and he uses so much force when he fucks you with them, you already feel full. Your moaning comes out uncontrollably.

“Rafe,” as you say his name, it's more like a prayer than anything else.

You can hear him growling in answer, and that sound sends new waves of sensations through your body.

You no longer feel the burning pain of his hard slaps, you just feel your aching need for him.

Suddenly he lets go of you and you're about to whine a complaint when he moves you from his thigh and pushes you down on your knees between his legs in front of him.

You gaze up at him with teary eyes and flushed cheeks, your heels digging into your sore ass cheeks, as he quickly opens his pants' zipper and your eyes take in the sight of his hard cock in front of you. You gasp as you see how hard and huge he is. It's always both terrifying and so alluring. You lick your lips.

“Come on, open your mouth.”

You move your head forward, your hands resting on his muscular thighs. You open your mouth, let your pink tongue stick out and gaze up at him again.

With one hand he grabs his thick shaft and positions the wet tip of his cock at your lips. You open up wider. Tasting the bitterness on your tongue you shiver and you feel that throbbing need between your own legs. Your lips close around the head, it's so thick, your mouth is stretching painfully. You still look up at Rafe, look into his face, see that hunger and lust and something darker in his eyes. You want to please him, you want to give him something back, and you just want to feel him inside you. You take in more of him, feel his tip pressing against the roof of your mouth. You start sucking and hear him groan. And suddenly his hand grips your hair at the back of your head. The grip so firm, your scalp starts burning. New tears are running down your cheeks. You try to blink them away. Try to focus and move your head, to get more of him inside your mouth. But he his so big and you start choking and try to pull back. He holds you in place.

“Not such a big mouth after all, hm?” You look up and see a devilish grin on his handsome face.

“Now let me help you,” his jaws clench, a frown appears on his forehead, the grip at your hair becomes firmer and suddenly he pushes your face down, so his hard length thrusts inside your mouth.

You make a muffled sound, surprised and in pain. It's too much and you can't breathe. You try to push yourself up, your fingers clawing into his thighs, but to no avail. He holds your face down, your mouth filled by his big cock, making you choke on it, spit leaving your mouth, dripping over your chin and onto him. When you think you can't take anymore, he pulls your head up, your jaws begin to relax, for a second – before he pushes you down again, thrusting deeper into your mouth that is clenching around his thick cock. His tip hits the back of your throat and your heavy gagging creates some sucking motion. He uses your mouth, forcing your head to bob up and down, taking your mouth for his pleasure, fucking your throat. And you're nothing but his fuck toy. And that throbbing between your legs becomes unbearable as he takes your mouth hard and relentlessly. Whining sounds mix with your gagging and sobbing noises.

He suddenly pulls you off of him and you start coughing heavily. He grabs your chin and makes you look at him. From the corner of your eyes you can see his erection, all covered in your spit, standing there, menacingly.

“You wanna say something?”

You sit on the floor in front of him, trying to catch your breath. The hoodie you're still wearing is clinging to your body, covered in sweat. You feel like your skin is burning. You feel like you're burning.

He leans down, arms on his knees, tilts his head to the side, licks his lips, and looks at you, with those piercing blue eyes, waiting for you to speak.

“Please –” You try again, your voice a whimpering sound.

He lifts his eyebrows, expectantly.

“Please, daddy.” You gaze at him with pleading eyes and his expression changes. It is as if that word has unlocked something.

He looks pleased for a moment and than more hungry than ever.

He grabs you, lifts you up and tosses you with your back on the bed. You gasp in surprise. Your whole body is vibrating with expectation, your heart is racing. And then he is on top of you. He got rid of his clothes and is kneeling between your spread legs, he lifts them on his shoulders and he looks into your eyes as he thrusts into you.

You scream as his hard cock fills your tightness. You turn your head away try to bury your face, try to muffle your screams, but he grabs your jaw and forces you to look at him, see his face contort, see his muscles tense, see the sweat on his forehead as he pushes his full length into you, so incredibly deep, so mercilessly hard, you think you might be split in two and you want it. You want all of it, you want all of him.

“Yes, please, daddy,” you manage to mutter between his relentless thrusts that make your body tremble beneath him. And that word, even though it seems hardly possible, makes him go harder still. He uses you without restraint, fucks you like some wild beast, ruining you forever, making you his. Forever his.

You can't count your orgasms. The first one might have been, when he finally pushed his massive cock completely into you, filling you so perfectly. That pain unlike anything else. Your screams become hoarse moans and whimpers as he takes you as he wants to. You forget your own will, it's only his will that matters and he may use you in any way he wants.

When you feel his hot seed inside you, your body convulses in response, as if trying to get more and more, deeper and deeper, until he spills the very last drop deep inside you.

Rafe pulls out and rolls off you, lying on his back next to you, breathing hard.

He pulls you close, so your head rests on his heaving chest.

He lifts your chin and you look at him, your eyes red and still brimming with tears. His thumb strokes under your eye and he smiles at you.

“You're such a mess.”

His hand caresses over your back.

“And not so bratty anymore, hm?”

His hand slaps your sore ass and you flinch in pain and pout and look at him, and he just chuckles and looks so incredibly beautiful, you feel that fluttering sensation in your belly. Maybe it's love or maybe that's him, or rather what he left there inside you.

[girls-alias]

Those Eyes - Dean Winchester P2

Title: Those Eyes - Dean Winchester Part 2

Words: 3,569

Relationship: Dean Winchester X Reader

TW: Strong language. Angst, sexual tension, masturbation talk, Dom-Sub.

Taglist: @qinnroki @deans-baby-momma @creative-writing92 @lokischickadee @take_it_on_the_run @daisy-the-quake @ilikw @selfdestructionandrhum @globetrotter28

Requested: @deans-spinster-witch @pycobutterpie @deans-queen @suckitands33

Part 1

I cleared my throat, trying to gain some self-control as I made my way to Sam at the Impala. I should have cleaned myself up again, God damn Dean. I have never in my life been so attracted to someone. No one else has even been able to control me with just their eyes before. I can't pinpoint what it is about him but then again I think it's everything about him that turns me on. He's hot as fuck and my God he knows exactly what to say and do to make me weak.

He's such a tease. "Hey," I jumped at the voice, startled by the sudden snap back to reality. I blinked my imagination away realising that I had walked back to the Impala on auto-pilot. I forced a smile on Sam as he looked at me confused. "You okay?" He asked suspiciously, his eyebrows knitted together as he rested his back against the Impala. Dean must have the keys.

"Yeah, just in a world of my own," I chuckled, joining him in resting against the car. He looked at me a little sceptically.

"You sure? You seem completely distracted. If you don't feel up to this one, you can take point on research or just chill in the motel," He added, his sympathy and soft tone showing he was worried about me. Knowing him, he probably once again thought I was on my period. He always seems sympathetic about my periods, always offering support or things I might need. He's always getting hot water bottles ready for me in case I'm in too much pain with cramps. Sometimes saying he's proud of me for getting through them and gives his condolences that I had to go through it. It's sweet and makes me feel loved, he once explained that Jess' cramps were crippling and so he was always helping her that time of month.

I chuckled as I smiled, "I'm not on my period, just a little distracted," I commented, smiling brightly as I knew that no matter how much I questioned what was happening between Dean and me, Sam was a constant in my life.

"Anything you want to talk about?" He asked, showing a little concern probably worried. I smiled softly as I shook my head.

"Nothing's on my mind, just tired I think," I shrugged, he seemed to accept that answer.

"I'm here if you need me," He added, a genuine smile on his lips. I chuckled as I smiled back.

"Thanks, Sammy," I added, my attention quickly going to movement as Dean walked out of the police station. My eyes seemed magnetised to him, I bit my lip as I admired him. Smirking as he approached us, I gulped the closer he got.

"You better not have scratched the paint," Dean joked as he approached us. Sam and I chuckled as I shook my head, both of us getting away from the car. Sam walked around the car, getting in the passenger seat as Dean continued towards me. I turned my back to him, ready to open my door but gasped as Dean's hand found my back and pushed me against the car. My eyes widened as I looked over the car, my chest against the glass window. He wiped my ass with a few swipes. I gulped, frozen in place. "Don't want both my babies dirty," He commented, his tone low and seductive. I gulped, trying to comprehend what was happening. He called me baby, he's wiping dirt off my ass and pinned me against the car. He slapped my ass harshly, a whimper leaving my lips as he chuckled. "You need to stop being so hot, the cop asked me for your number. Did you think he was hot?" He asked, I was completely dumbstruck by his question.

"No," I managed, my voice sounded small as his hand kept me against the car. I know if I moved he would let me, nothing about him or the way he acts threatens me. I know that if I showed I was uncomfortable and wanted him to stop he would.

"Good, I don't want competition." He stated simply. My eyebrows furrowed as the thought of Dean ever having competition was impossible. The only time someone would choose someone other than Dean clearly hasn't met him, they clearly hadn't felt his eyes on them and the way he controls me. "Now, get your fine ass in the car," He added, slapping my ass again before he opened his door and climbed inside. I took a deep breath to compose myself before climbing in the back.

"What was that about?" Sam asked, clearly confused as to why it took us a while to get in the car.

"Cop wanted her number, just checking if she wanted to go back in and give it to him," Dean explained, his tone showing indifference.

"Oh," Sam exclaimed, clearly surprised. I chuckled dryly.

"Wow, thanks Sam," I commented sarcastically. Sam chuckled as he shook his head but my attention was on Dean as he seemed to glare at Sam.

"No, I wasn't surprised that he asked for your number I was surprised Dean actually told you," Sam commented but Dean looked at him confused. Sam has been oblivious to everything between Dean and me. He always looks innocent to others so I don't think he knows anything has been happening for months.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, his tone showing a little annoyance. The air in the car felt tense as we just sat waiting for Dean to start driving but Dean was waiting for answers. I gulped, waiting and not wanting to be present in the conversation.

"Well, I just mean-" Sam stumbled for answers. Dean's stare didn't quiver as he looked at Sam. I took a deep breath, his stare wasn't even at me and I was still affected. "People ask for her number all the time," Sam shrugged, my eyes rolled to the back of my head as I begged the world to eat me. Great!

"What do you mean all the time?" Dean asked but Sam chuckled.

"At least once a hunt, sometimes more. I thought you knew," Sam added, clearly a little confused. I considered holding my breath and waiting until the nightmare was over but I knew I couldn't hold my breath to death. I'd never mentioned any of this to Dean, it's not something to brag about and if anything I think it's weird. I wouldn't say that I'm hot but when I've talked with someone they're interested. It must be a mix of my looks and personality. I've never thought much of it, plus it isn't every hunt Sam's exaggerating.

"No, I didn't," Dean said plainly, his eyes turning to the mirror as he looked at me before starting the car. I gulped, instantly worrying how he would react in private.

There have been times when a guy has hit on me in a bar and Dean always got a little jealous but he also loves to tease me about it claiming that I'm way out of their leagues and they didn't stand a chance. I always thought it was hot, the jealousy and compliments. Then again, Dean breathes and I think it's hot.

The drive back to the motel was quiet, the radio playing in the background not particularly loud. My mind raced with all the possible situations that could happen with Dean. I wondered if he would be jealous or compliment me, I worried he would be annoyed. Although I didn't hide it from him on purpose, it seemed weird that it had never come up in conversation sooner. I hope he doesn't think I was keeping it a secret. I chewed on my bottom lip a little nervously.

"Y/n," I looked forward, coming back to reality as Sam chuckled softly. I smiled softly as I wondered why he had said my name. "You staying in the car?" He asked with a chuckle, I looked out the window and we were here. Dean climbed out of the car, I gathered myself jumping slightly when my door opened. I looked out seeing Dean had opened my door for me and was waiting. I bit my lip as I climbed out, thanking him as I stood up. His face was plain, I took a deep breath knowing he was most likely annoyed.

I stepped away from the car so he could close the door. Sam got out, heading to the motel room to unlock the door, I gulped following him with Dean close beside me. "I knew I wouldn't be alone in wanting you but seems you have a lot to choose from," He stated simply, his hand on my lower back as he walked with me. My breath hitched, and my heart rate quickened. I kept my eyes on Sam's back, not having the willpower to look at Dean and his eyes. God, those eyes. They're my weakness and strength all at once.

I was uneasy for a while, sitting in the motel room with the boys. A part of me wanted to make an excuse to go to my room, hopefully Dean would come but another part of me was too nervous to see what would happen. For months it has felt like a game of cat and mouse, the secret chase. Now that he may catch me, I'm worried that it won't be as fun, I could never stop being attracted to Dean but I worried that after today things would change and I am not a fan of change. I gulped, coming back into conversation with the boys as I felt Dean's eyes on me. I glanced over, he was smirking but looked back at Sam, their conversation about the case continuing.

After a little while, I was invested in the conversation. Putting in my theories and laughing along with the jokes. Dean's eyes often found me but he was holding back on looking at me like he wanted to rip my clothes off, this is the time of the day when I'm a little calmer, although he still affects me I'm still able to function in a room with him.

"Right," Sam announced, getting up from his chair and grabbing his jacket off the back of it. I looked at him confused, watching as he put on his coat. Where's he going? "I'm getting food," He explained, looking at Dean and me with a smile. My eyes widened slightly as I felt Dean's eyes on me. He smirked.

"I can do it," I tried but Sam chuckled, I probably sounded too eager.

"It's alright, I was able to take a shower this morning so you's might as well stay back and freshen up," He explained, doing my least favourite thing that he often does... he brings logic into the conversation. I sighed, wanting nothing more than to run out of the room so he didn't have a choice and so I wasn't alone with Dean.

After a little time, Sam left Dean and me alone. I gulped, forcing a smile but not looking at him. He chuckled, my eyes instinctively going to him. He licked his lips, his eyes yet again devouring me. He either needs to stop looking at me with those eyes or stop looking at me altogether.

"Hope there's enough hot water for the two of us," He started slowly. I gulped, the rest of his sentence predictable and yet my insides quivered to hear him say it. He rose from his seat at the table, eyes boring deep into mine. He smirked as he approached me on the couch, I gulped, eyes glued to him as he towered over me. He smirked devilishly as he put his hands on the back of the couch, leaning over me but lowering himself close to my face. His eyes looked deep into mine, and my breath hitched as his plump lips tempted me to kiss them. "Or maybe we should save water. Seems you have a choice of men to shower with," He finished. His voice was deep but whispered.

I gulped, mouth drying as I looked up at him. His lips slightly parted, half his lips curled into a smirk. "You know," He started, pausing for dramatic effect or waiting until my heartbeat wasn't as loud so I could hear him, it's unclear. "It seems wrong showering with you if we haven't even kissed," He added, biting his bottom lip as his eyes travelled to my lips. I held my breath, my chin raising slightly as my heart rate quickened, and my lips practically tingled with anticipation for him kissing me.

Time seemed to stand still as his lips were an inch from mine. His eyes searched my face, I gulped, lips parted as I waited, begging him to kiss me. I bit my bottom lip, his eyes catching the movement quickly, I should just grab him and kiss him! Why wait for him to do it? I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself to grab the back of his neck and close the distance between our lips.

"Guess we'll have to wait then," He spoke abruptly, standing up straight and moving away from me as if the whole thing hadn't happened. I sat, gawking at him. I gritted my teeth as I rolled my eyes. That's it! I'm done with him! I'm done with this game! If he doesn't want to kiss me then I don't want to see him. I stood, taking control of my own body. He turned around looking at me a little confused, obviously not expecting me to stand.

"Yeah, well have fun alone," I scoffed, shaking my head as I walked out. I headed a few doors down to my motel room, normally we're in the rooms next to each other but now I'm thankful that there wasn't the space for that. I need as much distance from Dean as I can get right now.

I slammed my door shut, clasping my hands together as I stopped myself from punching a hole in the door. He's not messing with me anymore, I am done being played with! I locked the door, focusing on taking a shower and pleasing myself while trying to think of anyone but Dean.

I cleaned myself up, exfoliating and getting my skin as clean as possible. A part of me wanted to wash Dean off of me, to leave no trace of him on my skin. I washed my hair, putting on a hair mask to get it as new and fresh as possible. I grew practically giddy as I leaned against the tiles, my instincts wincing away from the cold tiles. I rested back, fingers travelling down to my exposed nerves. I bit my lip, the warm water trickling down my body, the warmth washing over me as my ring and middle finger found my clit. I bit my lip harder, a whimper escaping my lips as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I sighed happily as I rubbed circles over my clit, the pleasure consuming me as I found my mind.

Thoughts of Dean clouded my mind, I fought to think of someone else, a distraction. Dean's eyes took up my mind so I opened my eyes, focusing on the sensations. I moaned softly before trailing my fingers down.

A scream escaped my lips as I jumped. A loud bang echoed through my motel room. SHIT! I hurried to turn my shower off. I peeked my head out of the bathroom seeing no one in my room, I grabbed a towel quickly wrapping it around my body as I hurried to the door. I grabbed my gun, cocking it as I looked through the peephole. I sighed as I put the gun aside. Dean fucking Winchester. Of course, it is. I rolled my eyes as I unlocked the door.

"What the fuck Dean?" I asked, annoyance in my tone as I opened the door. He looked annoyed before pushing the door wider, I stumbled back from the movement. He walked in, his back turned to me as I looked around annoyed and frustrated in more ways than one. I pushed the door shut, silently seething as I looked at Dean.

"I told you not to lock your door," His voice was angry but his eyes were hungry. Normally I'd be a puddle on the floor by now but I am done with him. I scoffed as I shook my head.

"And I told you to have fun alone," I retorted as I put my hand on my hip, looking at him angrily as he looked surprised by my response. I stayed strong as he stared me down.

"You're talking back to me now?" He asked, his eyebrows showing he wasn't asking, more stating. I maintained eye contact, not letting myself feel belittled by him.

"Yeah, there's no point in wasting both of our time and energy. I was actually showering so if you could just fuck off, that'd be great," I responded, gritting my teeth as I watched his anger grow. His eyes were darker than I've ever seen them. I made a point of not breaking eye contact first, it grew more challenging but I stayed strong. He remained still, his mind clearly clouded by his anger. I continued to fight myself to not break eye contact, it's principle now. He didn't seem to be struggling which only angered me more. "And for the love of God, will you stop looking at me with those eyes!" I shouted, my chest rising and falling rapidly. He clenched his jaw, eyebrows stiffening as he said nothing. "Don't look at me like you want to rip my clothes off, either do it or stop looking at me," I shouted, momentarily surprising myself with my own words.

Dean seemed surprised too, his anger evaporating from his expression. He looked away from me, scoffing slightly as he looked caught off guard. I clenched my jaw, offended by his reaction. I knew he was just messing with me this whole time but to scoff at that is ridiculous. I sucked my teeth angrily as I nodded, coming fully to terms with the fact this whole thing was a game to him. I tried with everything in me not to punch him in his handsome and annoying face. He shook his head as he turned towards the door.

That's what I thought. It was now so apparently obvious he was messing with me. Maybe now I'll finally get over him. I rolled my eyes as I turned around to watch him leave. My eyebrows furrowed slightly as he stopped at the door. He moved with precise movements, his hand reaching for the door handle. Seemed odd, but it all made sense why he stopped when rather than grabbing the handle he flicked the lock. My eyes widened as I gulped, we're locked in.

I stood frozen in place as he slowly turned around to look at me, his eyes still looking at me like he wanted to rip my clothes off. He moved slowly, approaching me without a word. I gulped, snapping myself back to reality.

"Dean," I cleared my throat, trying to gain some strength in my voice. "I wasn't serious," I tried, my voice sounding little as I backed away from him. His expression didn't change, he continued approaching me. "Stop messing with me," I jumped when my back hit the wall behind me. I gulped as he continued, my inside fluttering nervously. I felt little again as he towered over me. My breath hitched as he put a hand on the wall beside my head, his arm staying straight as he rested against it. His body was close to mine as he stared deep into my eyes. I bit my lip, watching as my insides churned in anticipation.

"Do I have your permission?" He asked slowly, his voice deep with desire. I gulped, taken back by his question. I was frozen in place, my lips parting as my mind considered all my options. I either put my foot down and get him to leave, he'll stop messing with me and I'll be in control of myself again... But... I nodded softly, too intimidated to speak. Dean smirked softly. His hands moved to my towel slowly. I gasped as he ripped it from my body quickly, forcefully. I gulped, fully exposed to him. He took a second to look me over, his eyes admiring every curve of my body as he licked his lips. My breath quickened as I could see his pupils dilate, the throb in his neck quickened before he bit his bottom lip. His eyes finally found mine, his breath quick as he almost growled. "From now on I'm going to look at you like I want to eat you. Let's see how long before you're begging to have this conversation again," He spoke slowly, eyes bouncing from my lips to my eyes, clearly wanting to kiss me. All ability to function left my body as I stared into his eyes. True to his word he looked at me like he wanted to devour me, like he was starving and I was the only food in sight.

God knows how I'm going to survive this.

Masterlist

Working On

Taglist

Hope you enjoyed! 💜

Part 3

[selfishdoll]

NOW PLAYING…. GIRLS DEM SUGAR

It's been awhile since I'm admiring yuh tenderness

PIERCING HCS w/ JJK MEN.

ft. kashimo hajime, gojo satoru, takuma ino, nanami kento, & choso.

cw. sexual/suggestive themes, ooc characters, piercings (?).

got this idea randomly. half of these piercings i want for myself. unedited, please excuse typos & grammar mistakes.

KASHIMO HAJIME. ★ back dermals

the day you brought up the piercing to him and showed him a picture, he was confused. he didn’t see the point, and thought it was a little odd just having two random pieces of metal on either side of your lower back.. but boy was he wrong.

the pretty silver of the piercing rested upon your soft mocha skin perfectly, filling those cute little venus dimples he just loved. his eyes were always on your ass in general, but these piercings just amplified it.

and don’t get him started on the back shots. you just look too good all arched, ass poked out with those shiny fucking piercings all in his face. he loves it.

oh.. you’re even prettier from behind, sweetheart.

kissing between the piercings at times, tugging down the waistband of your pants to see them, he’s obsessed and is a little irritated you didn’t get them earlier.

GOJO SATORU. ★ vertical clit hood

you’ve wanted the piercing for a while, long before you even started dating gojo— but never got around to it. however, one faithful day you decide to just say screw it, and get the piercing. your refrained from telling your lover since you wanted to surprise him.

as pretty as it was, you would definitely not get it again.

anyhow, you went home that day, all smiles though still a little sore. walking into your home, you spotted gojo seated, minding his business. you walked over, his eyes glancing up at you and your goofy smile.

one he mirrored. what’s got you so excited?

i have something to show you. you would reply, cheeks nearly hurting from how much you were smiling. gojo watched with interest as your placed your things down, settling on the ottoman infront of him and slowly, pulling your pants down. he sat up, now completely interested.

you hooked your fingers on your panties, slowly pulling them down and opening your legs. his eyes widened, leaning over and pressing a hand on your thigh.

is that real?

yep! you quickly swatted his hand before he could touch it, glaring at him as you quickly shut your legs. much to his dismay.

before you can touch me there, we have to wait eight weeks.

you nearly laughed at the distraught expression on his face, ignoring his soft buts and what ifs. most healed enough for sex around the fourth week, but given how rough satoru could be— you opted for eight.

which was hell for the white haired male. dramatically counting down the days, walking out when you changed, the whole nine yards. the amount of patience or rather restraint he had was amazing. especially since you hardly made it easier for him.

the moment the eight mark his hands and mouth are all over, caring less for the metallic taste when he’s eating you out.

and when he finally gets to fuck you? he tried to be gentle, really he did— but with him angling his hips right and your piercing is rubbing against him so nicely, well; that gentleness goes through the window.

So fucking pretty.. you should have gotten this sooner, [Name].

TAKUMA INO ★ tongue piercing

you talked to ino about your interest in piercings, specifically getting one in your tongue. the pain was the only thing holding you back to which the man assured you you’d be fine, you’re tough, you got this.

so he tagged to your appointment when it came up, holding your hand as you sat waiting for the piercer. it was kind of cute to him, watching your eyes dart back in forth anxiously.

relax [name], i’m sure it’ll be quick.

you would only suck in a small breath, forcing a smile at your lover before glancing over at the person piercing you.

like ino said it was quite quick, painful— but quick. after you were done, you took multiple looks in the mirror, flicking your tongue about in different angles to take in the piercing. you loved it, and ino.. realized he did too. far more then he should have.

throughout the healing period of four weeks his eyes would travel to your tongue piercing each time you spoke to him, a certain heat resting underneath his skin. his thoughts quickly delved from him simply liking the piercing to wanting it on him, around him, touching him. he just.. wondered how it felt.

you weren’t an idiot to his thoughts at all. purposely eating far too sensually then you should have, glancing up at him through your eyelashes with the sweetest, most innocent smile.

you finally decided to end his torture when the healing period was up, offering to complete his fantasies.

i bet you were wondering what it felt like this whole time..

what? no, no i wasn’t. ino tries to deny it, but the deep blush on his face and the way his legs were opening so naturally, well— you knew otherwise.

the moment your tongue was on him, his eyes were pinched close, large hands resting on your hand. the warmth of your tongue and the cold of your piercing was just enough, him coming in minutes.

i’m.. gonna get a piercing for you. is what he declared after such a mind blowing experience.

NANAMI KENTO ★ ashley piercing

any piercings or tattoos you had nanami wouldn’t mind, he would love them regardless. they’re a part of you and well, he loves every single part of you.

so when you wanted the ashley piercing he was all for it, declaring it’d look nice on your pretty lips. well, anything did anyway.

it didn’t take long to heal, nanami smiling at how you counted down each day, just waiting to kiss him.

and when the sixteenth day was up, your lips were planted against him. nanami of course returned your sweet kiss, though, it did feel quite different from before. similar to ino the silver barbell created a nice balance between warm and cold, brushing against his lips lightly.

it felt, nice. far nicer then he wanted to admit. but he didn’t have to, since the moment you pulled away the man is chasing after you, planting his lips firmly back onto you— as if angry you left in the first place.

and don’t get him started on your kiss down his body, it’s.. too much. his skin is growing hot the moment you kiss at his collarbone, smoldering when you reach his v-line.

nanami has to admit this is his favorite piercing yet.

KAMO CHOSO ★ nipple piercings

first & foremost, i think choso is a breasts kind of guy. likes the way they fill his hands, likes sucking on them, and likes laying on them. now with that outta of the way— when you told him ( and showed him ) you wanted nipple piercings, he was a little skeptical. one, the thought of you infront of someone bare like that made him a bit nervous and two, after researching he’s heard horror stories of such piercings. choso quickly became worried for you and while he refused to talk you out of it, he did ask if you were sure.

when you didn’t budge, choso supported you, deciding to be right there at the appointment to hold your hand. he didn’t worry about the piercer, nor you; he trusted you fully.

choso was a little discouraged when he realized he couldn’t suck or play with your breasts for a while, but knowing he could possibly hurt you made such dismay fade quickly. your comfort was more important than his fixation.

when you were finally comfortable enough, the man was continuing his usual antics; grabbing your breasts, sucking and playing with your nipples. the metallic taste took some getting used to, but that didn’t matter the moment he realized how sensitive you were now. how you twitched, gasped, and moaned but just a swipe of his tongue across your pretty nipples.

it excited choso greatly, now spending moments between sessions sucking at your breasts, being the only man to ever make you come from them alone. and having you ride him, face buried in your chest, sucking both at the same time? well, choso was in pure bliss.

so despite the waiting time taking much longer then choso would have wished, it was definitely worth it in the end

[gavisuntiedboot]

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 10

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

Warnings: SMUT!! and also BAD WRITING!! TYPOS AS WELL PROBABLY!! BUT MAINLY THE SMUT!!!

Word Count: 21.5K (Fun Fact: If you have read all of JP, that's 159 pages single space of reading.)

A/N: Here it is. The finale of my heartfelt daydream, laid bare for you all to see. I hope you've enjoyed the ride: the road ends here.

GIF: @gavidaily (i've been waiting since part 1 to use this mf gif)

Previously on Just Pretend

"Scrubs? You look too young to be a doctor." "You don't look old enough to be let into the club, but everyone is full of surprises."

~

"You're late. It's 6:45." "Good morning to you too, Gavira."

~

Gavi found himself glancing at your ass as you leaned over, before swiftly looking away. He did not like you. He had a baseline of respect for you as a young successful professional. Nothing else.

~

"Are we not friends, y/n?"

"I'm not sure, Gavi. We could be if you stopped hating me."

"I don't hate you. I think."

~

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 won't let him talk to you that way anymore."

~

"It's okay, Pablo. I can take care of myself." A tear finally rolled down your cheek.

"I know you can, Doctora. I know you could take on the world if you wanted to. But you shouldn't have to. You deserve to be loved and spoiled. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

~

"You saved me Pablo." You whispered out against him, needing to tell him someway, somehow, how much you appreciated him.

"Anyone would have interfered, doctora." He whispered back, being bold and caressing the skin of your arm that he encased with his.

"Not just today. In general. Since I met you, Pablo, you've made my life better. I just wanted to let you know. Good night."

~

"Because from the moment I laid eyes on you, I felt like I knew you. I don't know if I saw you on the street or in a dream, but a part of my brain recognized you, and since then I've been in pain. Pain that you can't even help me with. Nobody can. It's so hard to watch everyone take advantage of you all the fucking time. It tears me apart constantly. But it let me get closer to you. You let me get closer. And I tried so hard to keep it at bay, to be the friend that you need."

~

"My heart, doctora. When I give it to you, please keep it. Forever."

~

Now...

"Miss y/l/n, due to the... historic lack of women in the club, we do not have internal policies regarding relationships between players and employees. We just use the ones that La Liga as a whole have put in place. Those are quite forgiving, in my opinion. You can enter a romantic workplace relationship as long as it is appropriately disclosed, and you cannot be terminated as a result of that relationship ending. I saw the photo of you being pulled onto the field during the final of the Supercopa. Do you mean to tell me it was not with romantic intent?"

You had never experienced more severe whiplash in your life. First, you had been reprimanded for being too close to Pablo, for showing what Xavi classified as 'favoritism', as it hurt the team dynamic. Then you had been ridiculed by staff and players for allegedly sleeping with Pablo, and had been told you could be fire for doing so even if it was a bold faced lie. And now, months later, you were being told that it was not only okay for you to be in a relationship with Pablo, but you literally couldn't lose your job if you did? Someone in the family must have been praying for you. Or for Pablo. Was Pedri religious?

"Dr. Gonzalez, I think there has been some sort of misunderstanding. Gavi and I are just friends. Not even - we're just coworkers that get along well! There was no romance happening anywhere on the field."

And it was true. Well, sort of. You couldn't speak for Gavi's intention, but you would bet that he hadn't meant to do anything that could be perceived as romantic. Not only was he incredibly shy when it came to anything to do with his private life, but moreover, you had started to toy with the idea that maybe you were wrong about Pablo. Maybe you had misread the signs. Maybe Pedri's stylist, who you now also so lovingly referred to as naranja, had only fed into your delusions instead of delivering the hard truth to you.

"He's in love with you, stupid."

That's exactly what she had said to you when you answered the question 'so are you close to Pedri?', stating that the things Pablo did for you were far from the actions of a friend. And she was right. Friends didn't need to be physically touching in order to have a peaceful night of sleep. Friends don't feel the need to always be near the other, unable to focus if one wasn't near. Friends certainly didn't imagine each other in compromising situations: shirtless, panting, trying so hard to control his throbbing- no. Friends certainly didn't imagine such scenes. Most of all, friends didn't find themselves in these intimate moments, the air thick with anticipation, where lips were centimeters from meeting, and seconds away from saying something that would change the dynamic forever. Well, at least that's what you thought. Maybe Naranja would be your friend long enough to see if these were truly just normal hallmarks of friendship (although Pedri might be a tad upset if the two of you started sleeping together). You're glad she offered her cellphone number to you.

But this was not the only opinion that was presented to you. You had been sitting on your couch one night, a rare evening when Gavi had promised to accompany Ansu to one hangout or another, his absence felt greatly. It had been weeks since you had a moment that wasn't filled by Pablo's voice, his laughter, his breathing as you completed an assignment while he scrolled through TikTok. There was an eerie silence to the house now, and you needed something to take your thoughts off of your maladaptive daydreams of Pablo laying on your couch, looking up at you through long lashes with a tender gaze. It was almost as if you could run your hands through his messed up brown locks, watching his eyes close as you massaged his scalp, feeling him lean more into your touch.That's all you wanted. Not even for Pablo to come to you with a grand confession of love, but just to be with him with no boundaries, no fear, no awkwardness. Just love and safety and the freedom to exist as you were. Together.

But there was no idle chatter or TikTok sounds to fill the silence, and so you had to do so yourself. You made yourself a delectable cup of tea, favorite mug warming your palm as you tried to balance your plate of snacks in the other. The camp nutritionists had been testing recipes all week, and had sent you home with some of the best food you had ever had, including a tupperware of cookies that could give those little Nestle birds a run for their money. Comfortable on the couch in that same black hoodie with the embroidered '6', you qued, rather ironically, He's Just Not That Into You (a great romcom, but not for people doubting if they're deserving of being loved). Your phone had lit up with a familiar name that you hadn't seen in months now.

"Angelika! How are you? How was fashion week? I saw the collection on Instagram. It looked stunning!"

Since her announcement about moving to Paris, you hadn't heard a peep from your 'best friend'. A mutual friend you ran into at the market had told you her move had been delayed until after the collection had shown at fashion week since the creative director had surprisingly quit, so everything was on ice until he was replaced. You had seen her collection on Diet Prada, not questioning why you hadn't seen the posts that she had made celebrating her work.

"Oh it was fabulous, and Alessandro just got replaced so Paris must be coming soon. I would have invited you, but I only got 6 invitations, and you're always so busy. Didn't want to have an empty seat."

She knew she had made a mistake when she saw your face on the screen drop. You had been the main supporter of Ang's career since you met her, and yet she didn't even bother sending you an invitation or seeing if you might be able to attend.

"Anyway, how have you been? What's new with you?"

You spoke briefly about school and work, before taking a deep breath and opening up the gnarly can of worms that was you and Gavi's current situation. You had no other people with enough context or who you felt comfortable enough with to reveal all your thoughts on the matter. All your hopes and dreams that he would sweep you off your feet. All your insecurities and fears that you had created something unhealthy, something that would dissolve into worse than nothing. No matter how you spun it, it was nice to have a friend, even if you had to ignore that you were walking a mile to see an inch in return.

Angelika listened rather silently to the entire series of events, asking one or two clarifying questions, but for the most part allowing you to monologue. When you finished speaking, you sighed rather dreamily and fell back into your couch, pulling your (Gavi's) hoodie closer around you. Sometime you forgot how much he had bulked up, until you were drowning in the shirts he had donated to you. Maybe there was something there. Now that Dr. G had confessed he thought you two were already in a relationship, the only missing piece was Pablo. You had tried to hint to him that, if he felt even the slightest affection towards you, he should go for it. Make the shot. The goal was empty - hell, the goalie would even guide the ball in for him. Had you been too subtle with your affections? Or had he purposefully ignored the brush of your lips on his throat in order to preserve your pride?

“Don’t you think you’re being a little bit delusional?”

Angelika’s statement was like a splash of ice water on your warm and fuzzy form. You looked at the FaceTime call like the woman on the screen in front of you had grown horns from her head.

“I’m … what?”

“Delusional. I mean it seems like you’re reading too much into his actions. So he what? Used you as his driver and let you keep a hoodie he got from the staff for free? Nothing super special.”

“But… but it wasn’t just that. He-“ She hadn’t even let you finish your sentence, not so subtly rolling her eyes, like she was so utterly bored with your story.

“Yeah, yeah, he punched your ex boyfriend who cheated on you. But I mean, cmon, you like, refused to fuck him. This is the second guy to cheat on you. Maybe it’s you, ha. And Gavi is literally just a raging teenager who has been looking to hit someone. I don’t think you should fly into your princess fantasies because he he finally lost his shit. And now you’re sleeping next to him every night and he’s waiting for you to give him some pussy. Better melt up quick, ice princess, before he gets tired of waiting.”

There it was again. The nausea. The head pounding. The vision blurring and room spinning. The sinking feeling that you were being betrayed by someone you had let in again. If you squinted your eyes a little, she might have even slightly resembled Martin.

“You… think he’s only being nice to me so that I’ll sleep with him?” You asked, voice soft and slow to hide the shake desperately wanting to emerge.

“Oh, absolutely. It’s not like there’s much else there. Now you look upset, but don’t be. I’m just telling you the truth so you don’t get hurt.”

“No, you’re just being a bitch.”

Your response seemed to have caught the both of you off guard. Your face had gone red with frustration, hands trembling with rage that you were desperately trying to quell. What a funny thing, rage. Feminine rage to be exact. The rage of men is common place in society - sort of like bullets. Everyone has heard a gunshot or seen what a bullet can do, in their personal life or on a screen. Male rage and fury is a normal part of life that everyone expects and respects. People bite their tongues hard enough to draw blood before they dare lash out at a man, fearful of sharp words and blunt fists. But feminine rage wasn’t a real threat. Oh no, it was more of a concept. A black and red Pinterest aesthetic in red and black, with pinups and devil horns and swirling script. It was only a danger to the self; a threat of implosion with no shrapnel to hit anyone else. A star dying, a mind shattering, as entertainment to those around. There was never an expectation for her to lash out and defend herself against those who poked at her until she bled. But should a cornered lioness cower in fear rather than attacking?

“What… what the hell is wrong with you?”

“No, what the hell is wrong with you, Angelika? All I’ve done since the day I met you is try and be there for you. All I’ve done is support you through everything - relationships, family drama, you’re entire fucking career! You had professors tell you that you would be a generic designer for H&M, and I was there for you. I was the only person with you at three in the fucking morning telling you that you could do better, that you could be amazing. I was a pincushion, a mannequin, a personal chauffeur to the fabric store. And I didn’t ever do these things because I wanted something in return. I genuinely cared about you and just wanted to see my closest friend succeed! But you couldn’t even pretend to care about this obviously one-sided relationship. All I ever was to you was a person to use when you needed and thrown away when you didn’t. I was preparing for my dream interview, my biggest career goal since I was a fucking child, and not only did you ‘forget’ to give me one word of encouragement, you asked me to be your fucking ride home! And you know what? I made my peace with it. I came to terms with the fact that you thought I was incompetent at my job because everyone seems to think I’m a physio ditz. But for you to call me the nickname people called me in college to objectify me, and then say all I’m worthy of is sex?!”

Angelika was now teary eyed and red in the face. She was shaking her head, unable to respond, acting like the spitting image of a deer caught in the headlights. She was now stumbling over her words, unable to string a complete sentence together.

“That’s … thats not true I didn’t say that.”

“No, that’s exactly what you just said. Don’t be a liar on top of being a shit person. You just said it was my fault I got cheated on by my last two partners. And now I’ve still decided to give you the benefit of the doubt after you straight up admitted to me that you didn’t think of me as one of the top six people in your happy moments. I’ve poured my heart out to you and you don’t even have the decency to lie! You either said that to purposefully hurt me, or you never cared enough to listen when I spoke. Either way, you’re just the last in a long line of people who I have let walk all over me.”

Your expression was steeled and icy. You hadn’t even raised your voice once during the entire exchange, remaining calm and level headed despite the deep cuts you had made in Angelika’s self-confidence. Your lips were downturned and brows knitted together, looking at her with all the loathing she had caused you to feel for yourself. It was hard to be alone, but it was better than being surrounded with people who convinced you that you would never be enough if you didn’t fit their mold. The girl on the other side of the FaceTime call was clearly experiencing every stage of grief all at once, unsure how to respond. She had gotten through the denial, and was knee-deep in the anger. But anger did not spark eloquence, sparking the simple response of,

“Fuck you. You can go to hell.”

And you could swear you saw genuine fear in her eyes as a bright, beaming smile spread across your face. Maybe you had never seen love, but you had seen friendship. You had seen that there were people ready to carry your entire world on their shoulders. And no matter how slowly, you were working to believe that you could be loved, even by yourself. The rage had evaporated and recrystallized as content. So you smiled sickeningly sweetly at Angelika, and gave her a heartfelt response.

“I’ll see you there, darling.”

Pressing the bright red button to end the call was one of the most satisfying things you had ever done in your life. The headache and nausea and ‘I want to die’ feeling that you usually had after a confrontation was nowhere to be found. Quite the opposite, actually. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Your entire chest felt like it had more room for air. Was this what every day was like for people without anxiety? How glorious. Pressing play on Gennifer Goodwyne’s best work, you made a mental note to speak to a therapist the following morning. This felt amazing. You were genuinely smiling at… what exactly? The loss of a friend? No, no - liberation from someone’s foot on your neck. What new and exciting things could you do with this new found freedom, this fresh lease on life? Naturally, you did your favorite activity: picking up the phone and texting Gavi.

Gone were the days of Pablo wracking his brain for any excuse to email, text, or call you. It was almost funny how much he had to talk himself up, looking at his reflection and reiterating how much of a 'cool, suave guy' he was before typing out a very intelligent and eloquent 'hi'. Watching a series that he had no interest in initially just to have something to talk to you about that wasn't one of his leg muscles (no interest initially - now he was patiently waiting 4-6 weeks for his neon sign in the shape of the House Stark sigil). Now it was you who couldn't leave Gavi alone, using your messages to him as a pseudo journal, spewing your entire stream of consciousness into little blue bubbles.

[You]: PABLO

[You]: YOULL NEVER GUESS WHAT I JUST DID

Locking your phone and resting it on your chest, you refocused on the chick flick illuminating the darkness of your living room, the device vibrating against you less than 30 seconds later. As much as you would like to pretend it was surprising to receive a response so quickly, this was the normal routine the two of you had created. One needed merely call out, and the other would come running.

[Pablito]: whoever u killed they better be small

[Pablito]: bcs pedri doesnt have a lot of space fr bodies in his car

There it was again: the giggling, the lip bite, the stupid half smile that made you look less like Cindy Crawford and more like the Grinch after Christmas was destroyed. But it was the natural way your body reacted to Pablo - like a schoolgirl with a crush on a boyband member in a brightly-colored magazine. Lord, how were you supposed to be normal around him? Oh how wonderful it would be to have even one inkling that Pablo reacted this way when he heard from you. But in your head, he was still Pablo Gavi with capital letters, who was standing ever so coolly with a beer in hand as he laughed with his other hot rich young athlete friends. You could never picture him as he truly was, shy and puppy-like, beer not even touched as he held his phone in one hand and twirling his hoodie string in the other. He bit down on his lip as well, eyebrows together as he waited for a response. Despite the relationship that had grown for the last six months, he still held his breath slightly when he saw the three little 'typing' dots float on his screen.

[Doctora]: i don't think i can convey the full force over text

[Doctora]: i can come over and explain it to you in person tho

"Guys, I think I need to leave." Pablo said abruptly, looking up at the group of boys, causing a record-scratch moment that abruptly ended the conversation. The heated conversation over whether the Drake curse was real had screeched to a halt, and now all four of the young Barca players were staring in disbelief.

"You haven't even been here for an hour. Where the hell could you need to be right now?" It was Alejandro who spoke up, the only one of the four who was not acutely aware of the fact that Gavi was borderline prepared to give up his entire career for you. He only had a mild inkling.

"Um... one of my friends is coming to my house and I'm going to meet them.''

"Who? We know all your friends. Who is coming over?" Ale asked, draping an arm over fellow La Masia baby Ansu, who smirked at the Sevillano as well.

"Yes, Pablito. Who is it? Ilias?" Ansu asked, obviously enjoying the bright red that seeped into Gavi's face.

"Or maybe Alvaro?" Ale seemed to be enjoying this too much, smiling brightly as Pedri tried to sip his beer without suffocating due to laughter.

"If it's one of the boys, then maybe we should come with you! Beers from the convenience store are cheaper anyways."

Pablo was sweating bullets. How could he say that he wanted to run home to hear what might possibly be the most mundane story about keeping houseplants alive?

"No, no it's... someone from back home. You guys wouldn't know her-HIM! You wouldn't know him." That may have been the worst save Pablo had ever made in his life, including the time his friends made his 5'0 self play keeper in a pick up match. Pedri finally lost the battle and spit out his beer, laughing loudly with the rest of the boys.

"Bro, why can't you just admit your massive crush on the doctor already. It's honestly getting a little tiring at this point. You've been in love with her for like three months now-" Ansu started, moving towards Gavi and clapping him on the shoulder before being interrupted by Pedri, who corrected,

"More like six months actually."

"Ah! There is no way!" Now Pablo was being ping-ponged between his two school friends, trying to keep himself from imploding from embarrassment.

"Why haven't you told her yet? Seriously now." Ale asked, pulling up a chair for himself and Pablo, the group sitting back down, conversation topic having changed into something juicier.

"You forget that he like stopped hating her and then she directly got a boyfriend, right?" Pedri said, signalling for another round of stellas to be brought over to the table.

"I don't think we should order another round. I was going to-" Pablo started, trying to nervously get up. Would he be able to find a taxi? Or should he just order an Uber? Neither possibility was explored as Pedri stuck his arm out and pushed him back into his seat, where he was now firmly locked in.

"Spill your guts. The quicker you talk, the quicker you can tell her to come over. I'll drive you home."

"Should you really be driving if you're going to be drinking?" Pablo asked cautiously as the four beers were placed on the table.

"oh, no, I'm done for the night. Two are for Ale and Ansu, and the other two are for you. For, ya know, confidence."

[Pablito]: u wnna met me at my hosue in an hours

The six minute pause between the 'Read' notification and the response from Pablo had worried you slightly. It was just enough time for the anxiety to seep into your bones. Did he find your desire to see him overwhelming and (God-forbid) clingy? Was he showing the message to Pedri & Co., laughing at your desperation? The misspelling made you even more worried. The spiral of thoughts was taking a sharp turn in the downwards direction. Was he even looking at his phone while typing? You didn't want to be a burden to him during one of the rare nights he could enjoy himself.

[Doctora]: are you sure? i don't have to come over if you're busy

"See now she doesn't want to come." Pablo said, now two beers deep with one more to go so that Pedri would let him leave.

"You're so stupid, Pablo. She wants you to want her to come over." Ansu said frustratedly. Pablo was trying to say as quickly as possible in between gulps what was stopping him from confessing his feelings to you. It had gone along the lines of,

"Well, first I thought I hated her, then I realized I was attracted to her as soon as she got an awful boyfriend, then we became like friends, I guess? Then I just kind of never wanted to ever be away from her. I had a hard time picturing a future that she wasn't a part of. Like, it started to make me have this weird aching feeling in my chest. And now I want to tell her all of this but she like, sees me as a friend and has had a shit time with her male friends and I don't want to permanently traumatize someone I love."

There was definitely more beer spit into the air and on the floor than there was in anyone's mouth.

"What did you just say?!" His too schoolmates echoed loudly, while Pedri just stared at him in a shocked state.

Pablo's brain was swimming in beer bubbles, unable to connect any dots and make intelligent, let alone sit and explain the process and intricacies of figuring out that he was, in fact, in love with you. So he ignored the question, asking rather for advice as to how he could get you to come over to his house.

"I don't think she needs that much convincing, seeing as you guys literally sleep beside each other for the majority of the week."

"Pedri, please. Enough details. You're just going to sit here and casually tell us the doctor has been in Pablito's bed repeatedly and he has yet to ask her on a date? I might collapse if I hear another shocking piece of information." Ale exclaimed, one hand over his heart as he leaned over, Ansu above him in what appeared to be genuine distress for his cardiac health.

"Pablo," Pedri started, sitting up in his seat and placing his elbows on his shoulders, obviously meaning business. "Now it's time to exercise that one petite little romantic muscle in your body."

"Isn't every muscle in his body petite?" Ansu braced himself for the punch in the arm that he received, but it was softer than previous attacks. Maybe the alcohol was really hitting him.

"Does it bother you that she asked to come over?"

"No!" Pablo responded quicker than his teammates thought possible. "I always want her to come over. She doesn't even need to ask. I would give her a key to the place if she wanted. Hell, I would sign the house over in her name. Do you think I could ask her to move in with me as friends?" His foggy brain registered the laughter, but didn't quite understand it. He would love for you to be in his house, walking through the door with you every evening, eating on the couch, fighting over the comforter and cuddling in the cold.

"See now that's... kind of a lot for a girl who doesn't know you have feelings for her. Which is a whole separate issue of oblivion that we can address later. Let's edit it down. Hand me your phone."

[Pablito]: never too busy for you. see you in an hour ;)

You stared at the wink on your screen with wide eyes. Had Pablo's phone been hacked? He had sent emojis before, but usually when he was making a cheesy joke or mocking someone else. This was ... well you actually couldn't say. Calling this behavior 'weird' would really make everything you two did, like cuddling and sleeping over and trauma-dumping, seem 'weird' as well. The only time he had ever been so outwardly flirty with you was when...

[Doctora]: Pablo are you drunk?

[Doctora]: I'm coming over to kick ur ass

"I think I got you in trouble." Pedri said, sheepishly handing back the device. Pablo groaned, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol more strongly, head spinning and stomach churning at the thought of getting scolded by you. But something in him also burned at the idea of you getting worried about him when you weren't being paid for it.

"Alright boys, let's head out so Romeo can get back to the castle on time." Pedri ushered the three tipsy boys to the car, Ansu and Ale hunched over and giggling in the back, and Pablo slumped with a cheek pressed up against the passenger window.

"Wait! I just thought of something really important!" Ale practically yelled, leaning against the car in front of his place, Ansu waiting by the door to be let in for their own sleepover and gossip session (which may become a breakfast and gossip session given their current state).

"If the doctor tries to kiss him, will Pablo have to get on his tiptoes?"

The uproar of laughter was so loud it could be categorized as a public disturbance. Ale stood, mind foggy but genuine, watching Pedri clutch both the steering wheel and his ribs. Ansu was worse for wear, falling to his knees and gripping the sidewalk for dear life, all while Pablo gripped his head in pain and embarrassment.

"Ale, please, please open the door. I'm going to piss myself laughing from the mental image. Please, Ale."

"I'm actually taller than she is, just for everyone's information." The rebuttal was coupled with crossed arms and a pout.

"With or without shoes?" Ale's follow-up question set off another round of rambunctious laughter. Pablo was now properly tipsy and overly sensitive, and was ready to go home. Ale finally let go of the coop, preventing Ansu's public urination, and Pedri could finally make his way to Pablo's place. The green vehicle pulled into the driveway, and you followed just minutes later.

"Pedri, I'm worried."

The Canarian stared at the boy beside him. That's still what Pablo was. At his young age, he was bearing the back-breaking pressure of being the best right out of the gate, and soul-crushing weight of being in love. It was more than Pedri knew himself and many of his friends able to withstand. And though he understood the sentiment clearly, he asked anyways.

"What're you worried about?"

Pablo was many thing when he had a few drinks. He was noticeably louder, more vibrant and talkative. His usual shy self loosened up, and he was much more vulnerable. He did whatever he felt like: danced, flirted with women, made bets - anything he could imagine that would make him feel alive before the liquid courage wore off and he was back to silencing the bickering voices in his head.

"I'm worried that I'm going to say something stupid and scare her off."

"Ignore what people say online, hermano. You're not actually that scary." The giggle in return allowed Pedri to breathe a little easier. He tried to push away the twinge of guilt that reminded him he had been the one to pressure Pablo to drink, and he had been the one shoving this relationship forward at a faster pace than the participants may have liked.

"No I mean... even if the 1 in a million occurs and she gives me a chance, what if I come on too strong and kill it instantly? Can you come with me?" The request and the puppy-dog look both worked to catch Pedri off guard.

"Come with you to hang out with your girl?"

"You don't have to sit with us. You can fire up the PS5 and do whatever you want. But I won't tell her I want to grow old with her like the couple in The Notebook if you're in the house."

"You want to live out the plot of The Notebook with the doctora?"

"How did you know that?" Pablo asked with wide eyes, fully convinced that the older had read his mind.

"You just told me! How much alcohol did you actually have?" Pedri was now concerned. Could he not count? Pablo had only had three beers. He didn't remember him being such a lightweight, but it probably would explain a lot.

"Ugh, see! Pedri please, I need you. Just come with me!"

Before Pedri could protest again, a small knock was heard on Pablo's window, causing both the Barca boys to jump slightly.

"Ugh, fine. But only because your gameshock controller has never been thrown into a wall."

As the two stepped out of the car, your nose was instantly assaulted with the scent of alcohol and smoke. Pablo looked at you with a red face and slightly unfocused eyes.

"Doctora! Hey!" As he moved in to give you a hug, you stepped back from him, covering your nose with the sleeve of your (Gavi's) hoodie. You looked harshly at the boys, glare flipping between the two boys.

"I can't believe you asked me to come here while you're wasted. And you! What the hell do you think you're doing driving drunk?" You yelled, and Pedri ran forward to prevent the neighbors from hearing your misconception.

"I'm not drunk! I had one beer and waited more than an hour before driving. Pablo had three beers. We smell like shit because a waitress spilled a tray full of shots at the table. Let's continue arguing inside."

You looked at them skeptically, trying to find a smidge of deceit in either of their faces. Pablo approached you and draped an arm around your shoulder. Pressed up against you, it seemed like the smell of liquor dissipated, replaced by the last traces of his cologne and his own signature scent. Leaning down slightly, his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, sending shockwaves throughout your nervous system.

"Come on, Doctora. You know I'd never lie to you. Come inside now. I need to get in the shower."

Speechless and wide-eyed, you were helpless to do anything but nod your head and be lead back inside the house that you had come to know so well.

~

"I'm going to get in the shower. I think it will help me sober up a bit. And help me stop smelling like Kettle One."

"Oh."

"Don't seem so disappointed, Doctora. I'll only be gone for five minutes. You can wait for me on the balcony; you won't even miss me. Or if you really can't be without me for a single moment, I have a very large shower."

You had stared at Gavi in shock for the umpteenth time that evening, unable to process how he was being so... unadulterated with you. It reminded you of that very first night in the club, when he had stared you up and down and commended Angel on his ability to pick girls.

"Wait you have a balcony?"

That's what lead to your current situation: sitting with your knees pressed to your chest, breathing in the early April Catalan air, and staring at the beautiful view from the window. The street was illuminated in a soft yellow glow, people roaming with hands held and laughs exchanged. The moon was full, shining its beauty down onto the street, painting everything a soft silver color that contrasted with the hazes of gold. It was one of those moments you wish you could trap between plates of glass and visit at a moment's notice. One of those moments that reminded you how far you had come. That dream, that life you had worked, cried, and prayed for - you were in it right now.

The glass door slid open behind you, ending the trance as Pablo stepped out with more blankets over one arm and two mugs in hand. You took them from him, hands warmed as he draped a blue and red blanket (his favorite, unbeknownst to you) around your shoulders. He wrapped himself in a pale yellow one and took his seat next to you, legs also by his chest as he retrieved his steaming mug. Taking a sip, the thick liquid coated your tongue, sweet and rich and reminiscent of childhood.

"So you can't even boil an egg correctly, but you know how to make perfect Chocolate Caliente while tipsy? How does that make any sense?"

Turning to you, he took a pause. The wind gently pushed your hair back, allowing the moonlight to fully illuminate your eyes, and his already hazy mind struggled not to just let himself drown in them. He was beginning to sober up, but it was nowhere near how he wanted to be in your presence.

"It was my favorite breakfast as a kid. My dad used to take Aurora and I to have them for breakfast on the weekends. When I came to Barcelona, I didn't really have anyone to take care of me like that anymore, so I learned to make it myself." Pablo hadn't meant for this to be a sad story, but apparently his tone came across as such, demonstrated by your scooching over to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. No matter the cause, he accepted the invitation to lean against you, sharing your body warmth.

"Must've been hard for you, moving here alone." Your voice was far off, as if spoken to a different person and in a different time. Flashes played in your mind of teary goodbyes and security gates, only one of your parents caring enough to drive you to the airport.

"You know what it's like," Pablo responded. "You did the same thing." He wanted to life his head and look at you, but you move first, resting your temple against his, slotting perfectly together like a teacup that had found its saucer.

"Yeah but I was 18. You were what? 11?" Your voice is still heavy with a burden that Pablo can't understand. His parents had gone with him when he first moved - and you knew that. They had only gone back to Sevilla when Gavi, shy and petite little thing that he was (and remains) told them he was fine to stay in the dorm. He had made friends quick and been praised for his football skills quicker. His parents were only two hours away, and visited semi-frequently. Life at La Masia had been Disney Channel-esque. So why did you speak about it with the same somber tone as old war stories?

"I hate that you say 'I was 18' like it was a thousand years ago, Doctora."

Pablo could feel your cheeks form a wide smile, and wrapped an arm loosely around your waist as you leaned deeper into his orbit. Of all the times the two of you had been cuddly, this was quickly becoming his favorite. Because he wasn't holding you like a secret, in the dark of night when all you wanted to do was pass out. He could see you, here in his arms of your own free will, not running away, but rather leaning in. He got to sweep the hair from your eyes, and if he focused hard enough, the dull beat of your helping the tension dissipate from his bones.

It was moments like these when Pablo knew that he was wholly and completely in love. His heart didn't race around you anymore. It wa quite the opposite now: only when he was around you could his heart beat like it was intended. It felt full. Otherwise he was walking around with this tugging in his chest, begging him to drop everything and run to wherever you were. And once he arrived, he would tear the beating organ from his chest for you upon request. It was your property, anyways.

"But I was 18 like a century ago. I'm old and withered now Pablo. What you're doing now is taking care of the elderly."

His laugh in response made him fall forward, burying his head in your lap as you blushed profusely, laughter light and breathy as to not draw attention (or get him to move). His face pressed against one of your thighs, giggling a bit too hard at a very generic joke without a singular care in the world. He leans back slightly and places a kiss to your thigh, so quick and delicate you almost missed it.

"I'll always take care of you, Doctora. As long as you let me."

You couldn't bring yourself to speak at that moment, opting to instead bring a hand up to play with his hair. Gently, you wove your fingers through the locks, softly scratching at his head like the sleepy puppy he resembled in that moment.

Several minutes of comfortable silence elapsed before he spoke again.

"Remember the first time we met?"

"Vividly." The response came quickly and honestly from you, and you were banking on Pablo's slightly incapacitated state to prevent him mocking you. But it was one of those moments seared into your memory. The lights, the sweat, the deep urge to pull Pablo against you and kiss him until that perfect pout disappeared.

"You didn't think I was 18 then. It was a hard blow to my ego. I didn't want a pretty girl to think of me as a child. But now, I'm glad we met when we did."

Soft music floated in the air towards the balcony, the performers a few streets over finishing off the night with something soft and romantic to tug on the heartstrings of passing couples in hope of separating them from some Euros. Gavi lifted his head, body following shortly as he stood. He held out a hand to help you to your feet as well. "Come and dance with me." Rising, Pablo never released your hand from his, pulling you in as close as possible, keeping you pressed to him with one arm. He began swaying and you followed his lead, now your turn to rest your head on his shoulder and simply enjoy the euphoria of being in his arms. His breath was next to your ear, raising the flesh on your neck with every exhale, before finally saying,

"Because in the future when we're real senior citizens, I get to tell people I've known you my entire adult life."

You faltered slightly, stopping Gavi in his tracks as he met your eyes. God, those eyes. If only you knew the power they had over a certain Sevillano.

"You think I'll still be around when you're an old man?" You asked, trying to stay light and airy and nonchalant as your heart hammered against the confines of your ribcage.

"Of course, Doctora. Where else would you be other than beside me?"

This was it. This was the moment. You were dancing on his balcony in his hoodie as he told you that he never wanted you to leave his side. This was the time to agree, to jump and have those strong arms catch you as you said those three words that could show you the gates of heaven or the depths of hell. You traced shaking fingers down one of his biceps, eyes meeting as with ragged breath you began.

"Pablo..."

The response was the sound of the glass door being shoved open, causing the two of you to jump a foot apart. Pedri stood there, cheeks flushed like when Xavi played him all 120 minutes.

"Pablito!! You had a case of beer in the fridge to reward me for being the DD!" This man was on another planet, bringing you back down to earth.

"You should get him to bed. I need to get going anyways."

"No!" The protest was louder than anticipated, startling both you and Pedri, who had gotten bored of playing sober FIFA and may have over-indulged when Pablo's balcony date with you entered its second hour.

"I mean, I'll get him to bed. You haven't told me your story yet. I would hate for you to leave without finishing the reason why you came. Wait for me on the couch, I'll be five minutes."

There was a pause, almost a reluctance from you to break the strong eye contact. He knew that there was something else you wanted to say. There was always something left unsaid between the two of you. He watched your form disappear down the stairs as he guided Pedri to his room (he didn't want his soon-arriving sister to sleep on dirty sheets). "You have the worst timing imaginable, hermano." Pablo muttered out, blood boiling at how the evening had gone from 200 back down to zero in a matter of seconds. When did he even put a case of beer in the fridge? Neither of you were drinkers. His fridge was always stocked with every delight and craving you had mentioned in passing.

"You told me to make sure you didn't say anything stupid." Pedri responded, making Gavi squint at him in suspicion. He must have not as been as out of it as he let on.

"Yeah but I think she- nevermind. Go to sleep."

"Calm down Pablito. It's not like I interrupted your first kiss."

Forcing himself to take a deep, self-soothing breath, Pablo turned from his inebriated friend and shut the door.

Making your way to the living room, you once again filled your senses with the boyish football decor of the living room. Checking to make sure he wasn't coming down the stairs, you sped over to the front door. The pictures on the wall remained as they were previously: childhood, family, football. Your heart sank slightly at the thought of your Christmas present sitting ripped and crumpled at the bottom of his club-issued backpack. You turned back into the living room, making your way to the couch.

Flopping on the soft material, you kicked your feet up on the table, glancing over to look at his obnoxiously large Barca book. And there, sitting on top of it, was a simple black frame, slightly dented in one corner like it had been dropped. The frame held the two of you, angry and standoffish and forever frozen in that moment before the floodgates had been irreversibly opened. He had framed it. Pablo Gavi, the busiest boy in football right now, had decided you were worth the frame and the position front and center on his favorite book.

"So, what was so groundbreaking you needed to see my reaction in person?" His question snapped you out of your trance, and you sprung up from your place on the sofa, needing to get the photo out of your field of vision for your own sanity. Making a B-line to the fridge, the cold was inviting to your flushed face. Fruit, bread, cheese, cold cuts - no Spanish boys here. Just the comfort of food.

"Do you want a sandwich?"

~

"There's no way you said that to her! Who are you and what have you done with the Doctora I know?" Despite his reprimand, the beautiful boy before you joined in the fits of giggles that had taken over you. Having deprived yourself of a decent meal for the last week due to work (they had finally handed over all of Antonio's medical notes and they were in shambles), you fixed yourself and Pablo the most impressive sandwich you had ever conjured in your adult life. After filling his arms with every possible accompaniment, he plopped himself beside you on the couch, crossing his legs so his knee rested against yours. Before he got comfortable, he jumped up, stating he had forgotten something.

"I got these for you." The jar he placed on the table was filled with green liquid, and as you leaned in closer to inspect the label, your eyes lit up.

"You... bought me a jar of pickles?"

"Yeah. Remember one time you said you liked them so I got these. They look like the same jar." That's when you let yourself burst into tears.

The hour following had been you and Pablo in various states: his arm around you as you cried into his shoulder about how shit the people in your life had been, then hunched over plates stuffing your faces and joking around, and finally the current one of eating pickles and chips and whatever else was on the table as you recounted your demonic phone call.

"I did but like I've wanted to say it to her for months now! You don't understand, Pablo, because you're friends with the amazing, caring, thoughtful being that is me." More giggles as he shoved a pillow into you, smile so bright it could light up the entire first floor. He was never afraid to be like this around you: silly and playful and just comfortable.

"La la Doctora, ladies shouldn't use such foul language." It was your turn to shove his shoulder, probably causing you more damage than him due to the rock-solid muscle.

"Thanks papa, appreciate the advice. But like seriously, she asked me to drive her to Madrid one weekend - as in like Madrid five hours away - to go to a specific store. You know what she bought there? Buttons. 10 hours of my life and a hell of a lot of gas so she could get buttons! And it's not like I expected anything in return-"

"No of course not. It's just when you do nice things for people and are kind to them, you want them to act the same. Treat others how you want to be treated." Pablo bit his tongue there, scared he would sound immature or stupid. You were several years his senior in age and education, and the last thing he wanted was for you to water-down your feelings because you thought he wouldn't understand.

"Right?! See, you get it! And I just, ugh, I feel kinda bad because like she didn't really do anything directly. Like yeah her show and stuff but there wasn't really a moment or like a fallout." You moved towards Pablo, leaning on his shoulder as the moment took a more serious turn.

"But that's the whole point isn't it? That she didn't do anything, she was just kind of there and reaping all the benefits of friendship with no effort. And-"

"Doctora, can I interrupt you for a minute?" You felt Pablo's shoulder dip slightly, and disappointed as you were, took the sign to lift your head.

"Sorry I didn't mean to take over your personal sp-"

"Ay shut up about my personal space. I'd handcuff you to me if I had the chance." He quickly looked away from you, processing his comment after he had said it. Nice one Gavito - real friendly. He moved some of the cushions to the end of the couch by the arm rest, kicking off the more decorative ones and leaning down. Honey eyes looked at you between thick lashes, and patted the narrow sliver of space beside him. Rolling his eyes at the confused raising of your brow, he verbalized his request.

"Come lay next to me while you rant."

Oh. Oh. Had he ever asked you outright to cuddle with him? The first time, you had been the instigator. You had taken that leap off the bridge - no, the cliff - and yet there he had been, warm and welcoming, catching you with grace. Ever since then, there had really been no words. Talking about his desires and feelings didn't come naturally to Pablo, and so he steered clear of them all together. It was always something unspoken: he would be at your apartment and just follow you down the hall when you declared it to be bedtime. Or when you had spent too much time at the Gavira house watching reruns of the same telenovela, and Gavi just switched the TV off and guided you up the stairs. No matter the location it was always the same. Him on the right side, you on the left, but both magnetically drawn to the center and one another. You slotted into his side, head on his heart, and stabilized by his embrace. Sometimes he wore a shirt - most times he didn't. He hugged you a little closer whenever you were in his clothing, trying to dispense his scent onto it anew and make sure you would think of him whenever there was a breeze. But there were never words. Only feelings and longing gazes and that same settled silence.

"You want me to?"

"Why would I ask if I didn't want you to? Last time you fell asleep on my shoulder you almost broke your neck. Now if you fall asleep you will only be semi-sore in the morning. I mean you don't have to if you-"

"No. I mean yes. I mean no I don't not want to do that."

"Is your Spanish getting worse or did that make no sense?"

You sighed in defeat, laying beside Pablo on the couch, sinking into the fabric and into him. One of his arms was acting as your pillow, and his hand made its way upwards to softly play with your hair, an instant soother. Body turning inwards toward him, your arms were up and palms gently pressed to his chest.

"Am I too close?" You asked, Pablo's previous comment about wanting to be physically attached to you seemed to have evaporated from your mind. His second arm fell around your waist, pulling you closer in. Your thigh was now pressed between his legs, and you both seemed to hold your breath for a moment. The alarms went off in his brain while his eyes held yours. He just stared at you. That's all he ever really wanted to do nowadays. He unfroze and shook his head before prompting you to continue your story.

"Oh, right - where was I?"

"She never put any effort into the relationship."

"Oh, right." You sat up to grab one of the blankets, draping the warmth on the tangled mess of limbs, and laying back down. It was not lost on you that Pablo, despite all the jokes, had listened intently to every word you had said. Nothing Pablo did, from the way he shifted his misaligned hips to his soft breathing to the way his fingers traced shapes in your side, was ever lost on you.

"So..." and on continued your rant for about an hour. It was a different kind of catharsis to speak about your pain and receive empathy in response. To be told that the feelings poisoning your spirit were ones that had been planted and could be weeded out. It was a relief that also brought about a tiredness, where once your emotions were freed, your eyelids grew substantially heavier. But the fingers remained soothing against your hair, twisting and smoothing the locks. He pushed a few stray pieces from your face, smiling at the sleepy state on your face.

"Excited for this last month of the season?" The short international break had allowed for the season to be neatly wrapped up by the first week of May, with the Champions League final and awards ceremonies following directly after.

"Mhm," you hummed back, eyes now fully closed and cheek pressed against Pablo's warm skin. "But it's not really a month for me. It's more like a week left of the season. Copa Del Rey in three days, then you score a screamer in the net at home to win La Liga three days later. Once the season is decided, I'm back at school for practical exams." The vibration in his chest reverberated throughout your entire being, and your semi-sleeping form nuzzled deeper into Pablo, which neither of you thought possible. Fingers tightened around the semi-exposed skin of your waist, and he felt a sensation akin to weilding fire at will. Knowing full well the flames could engulf him in a torturous inferno, but oh how beautiful to hold and let dance at the tips of his fingers.

"So we have two more matches with you?"

"Three if you choke again and let the other borderline relegation team score three goals." He tugged lightly at your hair as a reprimand, your smile spreading against his neck.

"I wasn't even on the field for the full 90 minutes last game. Don't worry, we're bringing home both trophies this week. And you're getting that screamer of a goal. Make sure to record it so I can gloat forever." A gentle nod and a hum, but the sleep was slowly seeping into your senses.

"So after that, what? What's next?"

"Well you already know that Xavi offered me a permanent position for when I graduate next year. So I'm at the club on automatic placement renewal. He he I was the first one in my class to get it."

"Of course you were, Doctora. You're the best there is." Warm cheeks yet again. Pablo must think you're a natural furnace, not realizing that his sticky sweet compliments were always triggering the "Heart Overheating" alarms in your mind.

"You think too highly of me. I'll see you when you come back for preseason medicals and training. They might let me run it this year. Oh, and at the Bondor. I'll be there, too."

"At the what?"

"The Bondor." You repeated, unaware of how much you were mumbling as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

"Slow down for me, Doctora. One word at a time. Where will I see you?"

"Ballon. D'or." You repeated for the third time as slowly as possible. It was too hard to stay awake now, and let yourself slip fully into the depth of relaxation, tangled in a web of warm Pablo, basking in this moment where you could just rest contently.

Pablo on the other hand was now on high alert. There had been a lot of commotion in the club when the nominations were announced. Pedri had pulled up the livestream on the projector, the entire squad waiting with baited breath for the categories of interest. There mutters all around about how the whole ceremony was a scam and had royally screwed over Robert, but who was going to turn down the honor? You had seen the stampede (led of course by Luca, who was always at the head of any effort to get out of doing his job) and followed quickly, afraid someone else had passed out. The players had been pushing themselves to stay miles above Madrid in the league, and it was taking a real toll. You looked up at the ceiling as you speed-walked, praying that everyone (especially Dembele) was okay. You would really like a calm week.

"Now, the nominees for the Kopa Trophy, awarded to the best player under 21 years of age..."

Ansu caught your eye as you entered and waived you over, instructing you to sit with him and the other young Barca boys. Gavi had been given a seat in the middle, the throne of the meeting room, as the murmurs circulated once again. You hadn't been aware that Pablo was a contender for this award - not surprised, but your schedule didn't allow you to keep on on Twitter as you once had. You wrung your fingers, heart hammering as the presenter spoke with that slow TV drawl that made everyone want to commit arson.

"Jude Bellingham, Jamal Musiala, Bukayo Saka, Eduardo Camavinga, Gavi-"

You were sure there were other nominees, but the shouts of joy and thunderous claps on Gavi's shoulders prevented any more information from entering your ears. The coaching staff and older players commended him on the achievement, and you had to wait until the room was essentially cleared to stick out your hand and offer a congratulatory message.

"Are we doing handshakes now?" He asked, eyes flitting between you and Pedri's gossip circle occupying the far corner.

"It feels more professional. This is a professional achievement after all."

""I haven't achieved anything yet." He said shaking your hand firmly and lingering much longer than was appropriate for the workplace (and 'friends').

"What are you talking about? You've been nominated! That's huge in itself given that a lot of your teammates also qualify for that award."

"Yeah but Pedri snatched it last year. They won't hand it over to the same club two years in a row."

"Doesn't Messi have like 27 Ballon D'ors in a row?"

"Please don't use Leo as an example. I am just a regular human being." As the two of you made your way into the hall, out of the line of sight of Pedri's tea spilling team, the laughter and teasing died down. You turned to Pablo, bringing one hand to rest on his arm, smoothing the fabric of his training jacket with your fingers as you looked up at him.

"You're a brilliant player, Pablo. One of the best this club has ever seen. You are incredible and have the brightest future ahead of you, and I just hope I get to be a part of it. That award it yours - I can feel it. But even if it isn't, don't sell yourself short. You amaze me every day."

This was the best news since his promotion to the first team. He had been pushing the Paris trip to the far recesses of his brain, a bout of nausea and anxiety striking him every time he conjured the thought of walking down that carpet or speaking on stage. But now you were going to be there. You would see him in the finest suit D&G would lend him, hair perfectly gelled down (he would need a trim). And he let himself ever so briefly entertain the fantasy of you watching him win. Of the announcer calling out his name, the crowd rising to their feet in deafening applause as he accepted the trophy from Pedri. He would look out into the crowd and see you there, sending a wink your way before thanking everyone who helped him achieve this, especially the medical staff. He drifted off to sleep replaying this scenario in his head, a trophy in one arm and the girl of his dreams in the other.

Pedri woke up with a minor headache in the morning, sunlight pouring through the large windows directly into his eyes. He would be buying Pablo some blackout curtains for Christmas. Descending from his place, he walked across it: a real sight to behold. You and Gavi were tangled together on the couch, legs an absolute mess with the blanket pooled around them. Your head was on his chest, face nuzzled upward into his neck. Your hands were fisting his shirt, as if afraid someone would rip him from your clutches. Pablo wasn't much better. He had his arms wrapped around you, one on the back of your head and one around your waist. He had managed to pull you on top of him in the night, his back flat on the sofa and your weight pooled on his chest and bringing him tranquility. His lips rested against your forehead, his face perfectly positioned with yours. He held you tight against him, and your unconscious form rose and fell with each of his deep and even breaths. Despite his best efforts, Pedri couldn't stop himself from snapping a picture of the moment. Thank God his ringer was always off. He did have enough self restraint to prevent him from sharing the photo with his group chat with Ansu, Ale, Eric, and surprisingly Robert (he just likes to be included). The name had changed numerous times in the last several months, and was now simply called "friendship" my ass for obvious reasons. He knew this would be a picture Pablo and you would look back on fondly when one was finally courageous enough to just let go. But until then, it sat safely in his hidden folder, and he tiptoed out the door, sparing one last look at the pair of you, sleeping more deeply than well-fed toddlers. The tension in Pablo's face was gone. Pedri hoped it would stay that way.

~

"And we are just minutes from kicking off what could be the league-winning match for Barcelona here in Spotify Camp Nou! Set to be an exciting game against Atletico Madrid, and the crowd is absolutely on fire."

"Just as well, Peter. I mean Barcelona have the ability to make this an incredible three trophy season right here today. They're coming off a massive win against Sevilla in the Copa Del Rey final, at home for what could be the league winner, and the performances we're going to see today are going to be full energy full power now that the Ballon D'Or nominee list has been announced."

"That's right we have Robert Lewandowski shortlisted for the titular award after two incredible seasons at Bayern Munich. We also have Pedri potentially passing the 'Golden Boy' torch onto his fellow midfielder Gavi, who has had an absolutely stellar season."

"Who can forget about that performance in the Supercopa, Peter. Three goal contributions in a Classico no less, the likes of which we haven't seen since Leo Messi stepped up to the plate, and we all know how that played out. He's really been putting in amazing performances week after week, and the most surprising thing is the level of health Barca have been able to maintain. For a team riddled with injuries all of last season, it is a miracle turnaround. Kick off right here after the break."

The tunnel was always busy right before kick off, but today it was quadruple-fold. You weren't sure if Barca was just extra confident in a victory today, but the media passes had tripled, and everyone was eager to get candids of the young blaugrana boys. You were pushing through people's shoulders, 'excuse-me' shifting very quickly into 'get out of the way' as you made your way to the players line up to adjust resistance tape and back braces. You were in the official physio uniform today, Nike jacket hugging your skin and tucked neatly into your trousers. The entire staff had been gifted with a new pair of cleats with the date on one side and a number of their choice on the other.

"I'm assuming 6 for you?" You had been caught off guard by the assumption from the brand rep.

"Why would you assume that? Have other players been telling you things about me?" You must have looked genuinely afraid and shocked, as the rep raised his hands in innocence, face going pale.

"No no no. I have absolutely no idea who you are. You have a 6 on your hoodie, so I thought you would want something to match."

It was discreet, a small black number on the back of your heel, and yet it was the only thing that Gavi could see as you worked to adjust Frenkie's shoulder. Did all of you have numbers? Were they in order, yours just happening to fall in the 6th position? Were there even 6 people on the physio team? His eyes stayed on your shoes until they were in front of his. He looked up to meet you raised brow.

"Why are you staring? Your shoes are nicer than mine."

Turning around, he let you test his hip alignment as he allowed himself to speak away the nerves buzzing throughout his system.

"Think we're going to win?"

"I always think you're going to win. I'm just waiting for that incredible goal you promised last week."

"What, the three goal contributions in the Supercopa weren't enough for you? You have high standards, Doctora."

"Of course. That was back in January. It's April now, Pablo. I want you to make my last game good." As you released him from your grip, he turned to face you, putting both hands on your shoulders. A few players turned their heads, but only for a cursory glance.

"If I score today, you let me pick you up as a celebration."

"Are you allowed to do that?"

"Who's going to stop me?"

"One of your fangirls might dive onto the field and tackle me."

"I have faith in you, Doctora. You seem like a fast runner."

"Always nice to have your unwavering support. Deal. Better be a good goal."

"A screamer."

You moved onto Pedri, who was next in the numerical line up, and his eyebrows did all the talking for him. You muttered a quick 'good luck' before continuing your duties in the remaining minutes before they walked out for the match.

"What a friendly little deal you've made, hermano." He leaned over and said, but the players began walking before Pablo could respond. Post -anthem, you took your place on the sidelines, jittery from the electric energy ricocheting around the stadium. No Joao for Gavi to shove around, but Griezmann was going to be a problem. The first half was rough and fast-paced, but remained scoreless. As the players came off for half time, you were instructed to help out the ones with high muscle tension. Passing Pablo, you placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke into his ear, quick and soft: "Looks like I'm staying seated all game."

Pablo turned just in time to watch you scamper off, a smirk on his lips. Pablo loved a challenge, and it was all the better to have it come from you. He had a couple opportunities during the first half, but he was scared of getting fouled too early on. Now was the time were he was able to push, with the anxiety from the beginning of the game shaken off. He tuned back into Xavi's pep talk and instructions for the second half, lips still upturned.

The media was always puffing up players, but it was true that Pedri was a magician with the ball. There was something captivating about the way he calmly danced between players, maneuvering skillfully. A pass to Araujo, then back to him. The roar of the crowd was dulled by the thrum of your heart and the snapping as you bit at your nails in anticipation. The boys had been pressing hard, and a score seemed eminent. Pedri lifted his head, looking for his striker. Lewa was locked up on the right. It seemed the moment to move back, alleviate the press and recalculate. But then a flash of blue and red streaked across his vision and his foot reacted faster than his brain. Minute 85, a scoreless game, and a ball crossed high and fast towards the menace that was Gavi. His foot connected in the far left corner of the box and there it went, screaming past the goalie's fingertips before nestling in the top corner of the net.

An explosion. You were the slowest person to react, slack jawed as the other physios shoved and shook you in celebration. Hands coming to his chest, he gripped the crest like it was a crown jewel, looking right as you as he brought it to his lips, kissing it with a force and passion that had flowed in him since he was 11 years old. He ran towards you, teammates following swiftly, and suddenly there were arms around your thighs as he lifted you. He bounced you in the air as his teammates clapped him on the shoulders, congratulating him and showering him with the well-deserved praise. You looked down, hands rested on Pablo's shoulders. His gaze was locked with yours. you wanted to tease him or commend him but there were no words. He released you, pointing at ou before taking his position.

They lifted the trophy shortly after, the players looking like children as they danced and sang in a circle. The players all took their turns squeezing the living daylights out of you.

"Doctora!" It was Dembele who called out to you, waving you over. Under the watchful eyes of his coaches, Gavi was more careful not to get too close to you (even though he had just Lion-King lifted you during the game).

"Come take a picture with all your patients and their trophy!" The request was made with laughs all around as you stood behind the trophy, Ousmane on one arm and Pedri on the other. Balde and Ansu got into the photo as well, arms all around each other.

"Gavi! Get in here! You're the one with the most clinic hours." Ousmane called out to him as well. He blushed as he walked (waddled) over, stopping to pick up the trophy and dropping it into your hands.

"This is your achievement too, Doctora. You should be proud." Pedri shoved him in beside you, claiming it helped 'balance the photo'. The flash went off twice. Once with Pablo paying attention to the camera, smiling brightly having just won MOTM in their league decider. The second was almost identical, but his head was turned to you. The smile was softer, the eyes kinder. He looked at you like the ultimate prize. As he said his goodbyes to you, promising not to miss you too much in the month you would be seperated, he realized one thing: he was going to need more frames.

~

@gaviraconcubine: ok i thot it was stupid but maybe gavi is actually w his physio???? just look at them

1,272 Likes 677 Retweets 385 Replies

@blaugranaboy: if you FEMALES knew anything, you would know barca has had shit physios and is always getting injured. since she came on staff they staying healthy. i would pick her ass up to

@barbiebalde: @blaugranaboy *too. Sexist AND bad english? pick a struggle

@88rizzing: ok but theres also pics of her out with pedri at a prada store so idk anymore???????

@gavitaylorsversion: her instagram is private :( can someone drop clearer pictures of her

You had been through some difficult situations in the last ten months, but these practical exams were the biggest challenge you had faced in your existence. 8am to 8pm lectures for two weeks, followed by a week straight of performing concussion protocols, lifting stiff boards, and demonstrating a whopping 6 different types of sutures had finally come to an end. It was May 5th, the final day of your exams, and three days before your flight to Paris for the ceremony. Your phone had been discarded for practically the entirety of the month, logged out of all social media and having your focus set to only let through emergency calls (and, of course, texts from Pablo). They had been less frequent given his understanding of your schedule.

[Pablito]: i know you have stitches today. Good luck <3

[Pablito]: Kounde asked about you today. He hasn't realized you've been missing the last two weeks. He really isn't on this planet

[Pablito]: the finale of our show came on last night. I recorded it so we can watch it together after your exams.

And now the most recent one had come through:

[Pablito]: Congrats on surviving the epic battle of your practical exams. I sent you dinner. Have a great night!

The doorbell rang in some scary accurate timing, and you graciously accepted the package from the delivery driver. Sitting on your couch to watch any comedic show that would help you decompress. The bag was huge, and seemingly filled to the brim with containers. Pasta, pizza, two types of bread, fried chicken, and three slices of cake (chocolate, cheesecake, and tres leches). There was also a bottle of sugar-free soda, for balance apparently. As you picked up your phone to ask Pablo if you were meant to feed the whole building, another text popped up on your screen.

[Santa Naranja]: Hi! I'm not sure if you remember me, but I'm the stylist who worked with Pedro for his Prada shoot? I got this number from him. You should yell at him for giving out your number so easily.

[Santa Naranja]: Anyways, I just got the list for the Ballon D'Or ceremony and I saw your name on there. How exciting! My company is styling Barca for the event, and I wanted to reach out personally to see what you would be interested in wearing.

[Santa Naranja]: Because I'm assuming you don't want to be in a suit? But I could be wrong.

You replied instantly, telling her how grateful you were for contacting you. You had been planning on wearing one of your old wedding-guest dresses, not having the time to go pick up something else. The two of you arranged to meet tomorrow at her studio, and you went back to your original mission: snapping a picture and sending it to Gavi.

He opened the message instantly, feeling all warm and fuzzy staring at the food spread on your lap and his old shirt hanging off your shoulders. You hair was up, face bare, and he wanted to reach through the phone and kiss you on the forehead.

[Doctora]: thanks for the food, pablito <3 see u in paris

"Ouch!" He yelled out, taken out of his daydream by a needle shoved into his wrist. "Pedri! Tell your friend to be gentle."

"First of all, we're not friends-"

"We're not?" Pedri asked the stylist, the smoke practically rising from her ears. She glared at him, looking extra menacing with the pins between her teeth.

"No. We're not. You're only allowed to be here if you're silent, remember? And second of all we are tailoring your suit sleeves. You're going to get stabbed if you keep moving your arms! Now hold still. She's still going to be there in 15 minutes for you to gush over."

"How did you know who I was talking to?" Pablo asked, genuine shock and curiosity across his features.

"Oh please, for the love of God, don't tell me you think you're being subtle?!"

~

"Hi! Come in come in! I didn't even realize it was raining."

Santa Naranja was, as you had recently discovered, not just Pedri's stylist. She wasn't even a Prada stylist. She was now a senior assistant stylist for Style Di Fortuna, a global firm that worked to style celebrities for different events. Since Herno and D&G started dressing the club, management had received official notice regarding their event attire.

"You should have seen the letter they sent. It was like a scolding from the school principal. 'Players must be formally and professionally styled during all official events as to avoid conflict in brand image and the tarnishing of the brand's respectability. Can you imagine dressing so poorly that you could ruin the reputation of an entire brand? Although I shouldn't expect any less. Pedro's jorts could bring about doomsday."

It was the other girls in the office that had given her the nickname 'Santa' for her saint-like patience in dealing with Pedri for... reasons. She was a completely different person when his cheshire cat smile and bushy brows were not in the room. She was calm and fun and humorous. She scurried around the workshop, pouring you a cup of cinnamon tea loaded with sugar, before running back into a warehouse closet and throwing about twenty garment bags over her arms.

"Did you have anything in mind for your look? I know that the club must have given you some basic guidelines, but what about your personal style?"

"Oh yeah, they came with the invitation. Long skirt, no slit, no trains, no plunging necklines, no open backs, no beading or gems, no appliques, and no bright colors."

The poor stylist stopped in her tracks, returning virtually every dress she had in her hands.

"Okay, let's go to the nun section of the closet. What colors would you like? Keep them boring and muted." You giggled at the remark, rattling off a list of colors. She either hummed in agreement or gave a slight pause, allowing you time to retract the wrong choice. Green, red, and white were all off the table, seeing as the wags had already claimed them.

"What's Gavi's favorite color?" She teased, shoving a garment bag at you and ushering you behind the separator to change.

"Haha, very funny. I'm not going as his date."

"You can add the 'unfortunately' to the end of that. I won't judge you."

"Sure. It's unfortunate I'm not Pablo's date in the same way it's unfortunate that you're not Pedri's."

"Please don't speak such wicked thoughts about me and Pedro into the universe."

After cycling through about 15 dresses, the weight of the event and the pressure of traveling in two days was beginning to weigh on you, a tightness settling into your chest and disrupting your breathing.

"I'm going to look so stupid at this event. Nothing looks good." You huffed as you resisted the urge to face plant into the million euro pile of fabric on the floor. Your companion huffed as well, racking her brain for any guidance on how to dress you without making you look like a churchly sister or a plastic bag.

"Okay. Do you know anything about fashion?" She asked. Her tone was soft and delicate, like a kindergarten teacher asking a poor 6-year old if they knew how to tie their shoes.

"I try and keep up."

"If you could pick any look from the last like 10 years on the runway that you would wear to this event, what would it be?"

"I can't afford-"

"Not telling you to buy it. Just imagine. If you could wish a dress into your hands right now, what would it be?"

You sat and thought for a moment. It had been a long time since you separated yourself from the imposed masculine nature of your job. Your hair stayed up, your nails stayed short, your face always painted naturally (you had gotten dress-coded for winged eyeliner once). It had been years if not a complete decade since you allowed your thoughts to be pink and flowery. You had put girlhood on pause, allowed it to hibernate for the harsh winter war of professional success. But now it was spring, and the blossoms emerged once again. You weren't a physio going for a meeting. You were a princess preparing for her magical night in Paris, your fairy standing before you. This was one of those moments where you just had to take a pause. You had worked to hard to make it here. Now that you were here, enjoy it.

"Well, Viktor and Rolf had the most gorgeous tulle dresses ad fashion week. They were all strapless and tight at the top, and they had these beautiful full skirts and velvet ribbons. If I was a wag or a footballer accepting my own award, I would wear that." You said, still allowing the rose color of your imagination to tint your reality. You entertained the thought briefly that this is the first time Pablo would see you properly dolled up, and it made you want to squeal and kick your feet like a girl waiting for prom.

"Oh my God you're so smart!" She yelled, running back into the dark passage of the closet. She returned a moment later with a black fabric bag, gold filigree embossed onto the material. She hung and began to unzip, unveiling the most beautiful dress you had ever seen in your life. It was a pale nude, almost the color of beach sand, with a fitted corset top that came down to the top of the hip bone. It then flares slightly into a layered tulle skirt, the color solid except for one band of pale blue that wrapped around the skirt, the waist accentuated with a velvet bow in the same dusty blue. You reached out one shaking hand to smooth down the fabric, almost afraid it would disintegrate in your touch. (dress inspo for those interested)

"Bouguessa just sent us this. It's more subtle than the Viktor and Rolf ones, it goes with gold and silver jewelry, won't draw too much attention, and follows that ridiculous novel of rules." She said, hands on her hips behind you.

"I can't wear this." You said, trembling at the very thought of spilling a drop of... well anything really on this dress.

"You can and you will. We had it shorted for some actress wearing it in Cannes later this month, so wear nice shoes. Nothing too tall though - Pablo is 5'7 after all." You turned to her, and the face she had expected to smile back at her held eyes welling with tears. You pulled her against you, too fast for her to process, and let the tears stream down your cheeks.

"I have never had anyone be so kind to me. I can't thank you enough."

"I'm just letting you borrow a dress," she said, arms wrapping around you as well. "Do you not have friends?"

"Let's not open that can of worms."

~

"Hi, Dr. Gonzalez. You wanted to see me?" Your head peaked in ever so slightly to catch his hand waving you over. Despite knowing on a deep psychological level that he respected you as a professional, he still scared the bejeezus out of you.

"Yes. I forgot to give you your passes for tonight's flight. You'll be able to use this to get directly into the lounge and then on the jet we have chartered this evening."

"The... what?"

"How were planning on getting to Paris exactly, Miss y/n?" He took off his small glasses, a gesture to emphasize how stupid you were being at the present.

"I was going to take the train in tomorrow?" You responded extremely unsure of yourself.

"Take the train in the morning of the ceremony? Oh this generation. No foresight. You'll meet the team in the lounge at exactly 8pm this evening."

"So what I'm hearing is... I'm going on the private jet with Xavi and the squad?"

"Yes."

"And my accomodation..?"

"You will have a room in the hotel on the same floor as the rest of the team. Any other logistical questions? Do I need to explain what the Ballon D'Or is?"

"No, no, of course not. Thank you so much Dr. Gonzalez. I'll be sure to represent Barca well as an organization that loves women!" You got up hastily from your chair, exiting the office with Dr. Gonzalez yelling behind you.

"We didn't send you because you're a woman! Don't say that to any reporters!"

The Barcelona airport was, in your opinion, nothing special. That was until the woman at the check-in desk saw your badge and personally guided you past security and into a private Air France lounge. The room was decked out in plush sofas and chaise lounges, soft spa music bouncing between the walls. Enough food to feed the entire terminal had been laid out on stone and marble platters, and three girls in matching dark blue uniforms strolled around the room, waiting to be flagged down for assistance. This was nice. Maybe gold digging was really the best choice. It's a miracle that not everyone on the quad had Ferran-sized heads if this was the treatment they were used to.

"Ay look who finally made it." The voice greeting you belonged to Xavi, who was the first to stand up and embrace you. You greeted the rest of the group and introduced yourself to both Xavi and Robert's wives, thinking it more appropriate to sit with the other women on the trip. You chatted with them until it was time to board, at which point you could no longer exercise self control. You walked up to Pablo, tapping him on the shoulder.

He couldn't suppress his smile when he saw you, and Anna whispered to her husband how you had not introduced yourself as Gavi's girlfriend.

"Well, they're not together. She's a physio at the club."

"He looks at her like he's in love."

"Yeah. Everyone has noticed except the two of them."

Fighting the urge to stuff you into his hoodie so you could never disappear for a month again, Pablo opted to instead put one arm around you, embracing you in a tight side hug. You two walked onto the plane together, effectively abandoning Pedri, while catching up on everything that had gone on since your last meeting. He sat beside you on one of the couches, spinning around to lay with his legs on top of you, which were swiftly pushed off. The two of you now sat side by side, eating from a bag of sour gummies.

"I missed you." He said softly as you watched Barcelona grow smaller and smaller beneath you. You turned back to him resting your head on his shoulder. "I missed you too. A lot more than I thought I would." There was no more talk after that. No mention of feelings or trophies or anything really. Just sour bears and that telenovela finale he promised to watch with you.

The clock in the hotel lobby read 11:44pm as you fought with Pablo to try and carry your own bag in. Well, fought is a vague term - you tugged on his bicep while he dragged you and your suitcase inside.

"We're only here for two days - what on Earth could you have brought?" He asked, letting out an exaggerated huff as he set it down on its wheels.

"Makeup is heavy, my dress is heavy, my shoes are heavy - society's beauty standards are just weighing me down at every turn." He smiled back at you, your fingers itching to pinch his cheeks and kiss him on the tip of his nose and tell him that he had a smile that could bring cities to their knees.

"Pedri! Gavi!"

You turned around to the source of the voice, watching Pedri embrace a very tall and very familiar Spaniard. As he made his way over to Gavi, he gave you a once over that indicated his brain was still trying to figure out who you were. As his hand connected with Gavi's, it was like the electricity had switched back on.

"Oh, hey! You came and interviewed at Chelsea. Convince her to stay then, hermanito?" he clapped Gavi on the back of the neck.

"No, I didn't have to say anything. She spent an afternoon with you guys and came running back to the better club." You smiled shyly, feeling a little awkward at your once potential club interacting with the one you had chosen to stay at. You stepped to the side, noticing Perdi deep in conversation with someone else. Tan, tall, and beautiful, he turned to you, smiling wide and approaching.

"Ah hello again." You were in a hug before you knew it. You reciprocated, wishing one of the boys would take a photo so you could send it to ever girl in your high school.

"Joao! Great to see you again. How have you been?" He pulled away, hands still on your upper arms as he ranted to you about his difficult second half of the season had been. Pablo sat back, loosely listening to the exchange between Pedri and Kepa, with most of his energy focused on seething at the sight in front of him. Joao had talked to you for what? An hour? Why did he feel so comfortable touching you like this? His tongue found purchase in his cheek, his arms crossed over his chest. Xavi tapped him on the shoulder to hand him the key cards for your three, giving him a perfect excuse to break up your conversation.

"Here you go, Doctora. This one's yours. Doing well Joao?" There was an obvious hint of animosity in his voice that was evident to the both of you. Nevertheless, Joao released you to shake Gavi's hand.

"I saw you on TV the other day getting picked up by this one. Twitter went crazy speculating about you two dating. You guys.. aren't dating, right?" Joao directed the question to you, now fully turned away from Gavi, whose body temperature had exceeded 100 degrees.

"No, no. We're..." your eyes flashes to him, "just friends".

"I guess anyone would be grateful to have someone like you caring for their wellbeing. A shame that you didn't come over to us for this season. But I may get the privilege if I can get Xavi to place a bid on me." Pablo let out a laugh that was too loud and enthusiastic to be polite. If Joao had been offended, he didn't let it on.

"Oh, Mason is here, too! We're going out with him and his friend Jude for drinks here at the hotel bar. You should come with us! You can come too, Gavi- oh wait, are you even old enough to drink?" The question was punctuated with a smirk, an obvious rebuttal to Gavi's humor at him joining the club.

"I'm flattered but I need to get some rest for tom- wait Jude as in Bellingham?" You asked, eyes wide.

"Of course. Know any other Jude's being nominated?" You heard Gavi breathing loud and heavy beside you, taking this as your cue to call it a night. Before you left, Joao grabbed your wrist, taking a look at your card.

"Floor three. Same as us. Maybe we'll see you around." He hugged you once more as a good night, then headed over to Mason, who waved at the group of you with Jude beside him. You made your way to the elevator with Gavi and felt embarrassed. You hadn't even done anything but be polite, but in some way you felt like you had committed a sin in talking so freely with Joao. Engrossed in thought, your face met Gavi's back as he suddenly stopped in front of a door.

"This is my room. I'll see you tomorrow." You stopped him in his tracks, one hand preventing him from crossing the threshold.

"Are you mad at me?" You asked, voice soft and even, trying to disguise the hurt.

"I- no, of course not, Doctora. Just nervous. Didn't think I'd be seeing my competition tonight." You pulled him into a hug, hands around his waist and your head on his chest with his above it. He let out a shaky breath, and all his fears with them. Joao had invited you out and yet you were still here, in his arms and in front of his door.

"Will I see you tomorrow? Before the 'big show'?" He asked, keeping you against his chest, just for a moment longer.

"Staff aren't allowed on the carpet so I'll see you inside the theater."

"Don't sit next to Joao tomorrow." He said with a slight pout, and you wanted to just pull him down and kiss him so hard he lost consciousness from the lack of air.

"I don't think they'll let me sit next to the players. Not important enough."

"You're going to be one of the most important people in that room. And just, don't sit next to him."

"I won't Pablo."

"Promise?" He said, sticking out his pinky. You rolled your eyes and wrapped your finger around his, bringing your conjoined hands upwards. You twisted them so that your thumb was facing him and vice versa. You leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to the skin of his hand. His breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed audibly.

"What are you.. what was that?"

"You have to kiss it to seal the promise."

He brought your entwined hands up to his lips, looking at you once more for any objection, before closing his eyes and kissing your knuckles.

"You have soft lips." You said looking between his lips and his hooded eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Well, I'm two rooms over. Good night, Pablo. Good luck."

He watched you walk down the hall and enter your room, only returning to his when the door clicked shut. He pressed his back to the wood, allowing it to cool the sweat pooling under his hoodie. He was so thankful that he wasn't sharing a room with Pedri, because the feeling of your lips on his skin, soft and plump, had made him so incredibly hard.

~

"We are here live from the red carpet of the annual Ballon D'or ceremony, and the stars of the football world have come out in full force. On the carpet now Xavi Hernandez and his wife Núria, as well as Ballon D'Or contender Robert Lewandowski and his wife, champion in her own right, Anna. These are the veterans of football, and they should be shortly accompanied by the young trailblazers leading the New Era of Barcelona football."

It was three minutes until Gavi was supposed to step onto the carpet, and he was panicking. His breathing was shallow, his collar felt like it was suffocating him, and he was sweating bullets under his suit.

"Pedri, I can't do this." He said, genuine fear swimming in his eyes as he looked to his friend for comfort.

"Yes you can, hermano. All you have to do is walk and smile. Maybe answer some questions. You can absolutely do all of those things."

"What if I make an ass of myself?" He said, hiding behind Pedri as their handler signalled 30 seconds until they walked.

"You are here being told you are one of the best under 21 players in the world, and then you get to walk into the theater and see the best person in the world."

"I do really want to see her in a dress."

"I was talking about Leo Messi." Pedri deadpanned, and Gavi was shoved on the carpet genuinely laughing, a million bulbs flashing to capture his joy. He was here. He was 18 years old and on his way to shake hands with greatness. He was walking the carpet with his best friend in the world in a five thousand euro suit. He thought to his younger self, eleven years old and hiding behind his mother on his first day at La Masia. All the dreams he had were now the blueprint for his reality. Barca first team player? Check. Goal scorer? Check. Trophy winner? Check. Beautiful girl to share every euphoric moment with? Pending.

He took a few steps forward, waiting for Pedri to be photographed before he walked down to the end of the carpet, taking a group photo and heading to the microphones.

"Gavi! You look wonderful this evening. Are you excited for your first ceremony?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. It's something that I always dreamed about and now that my dream is a reality, I am just trying to enjoy every moment."

"Well you have had an absolutely stellar season playing with the reigning Kopa winner here, Pedri. Is it something you're thankful for, to play with him and to play with Barca?"

He looked over at Pedri, whose eyebrows were wiggling causing his serious demeanor to break.

"I'm absolutely so pleased to work with this guy here. He's just incredible on the field and we work well together. Barca is my lifelong club, and I am grateful to play there, to have them take care of me and keep me healthy." The reporter gave a thumbs up, and the boy stepped to the side to allow Pedri to finish his interview, wanted to have company as he entered the theater.

"Taking care of you and keeping you healthy, hm? Why didn't you just say her full name?"

The theater was glorious, all gold ornaments and plush red velvet, giving it a timeless and glamorous look. He craned his neck, looking around for those familiar eyes and inviting smile that had made his life so much worse and simultaneously so much better.

"Pablo." The voice came from behind him, and when he turned around, the world moved in slow motion. Your dress, pale nude and powder blue, made you look like a Greek deity. You could give the entire Spanish royal family a run for their money with the way the bodice seemed to mold against you, flaring out into a beautiful cascade of material. It ended at the bottom of your ankles, your feet hugged by blue heels, an anklet handing off that Gavi couldn't quite make out. Your jewelry glinted in the lights, the necklaces sitting between your collar bones drawing in the eye to the expanse of your chest and neck, and he had to try so, so hard to tear his eyes from this. He focused on all these details because looking at your face made him go slack-jawed.

Your hair was cascading freely, front pieces twirled away to show off the beauty of your feature. Your makeup was simple - glowing skin with rosy cheeks, black liner framing and highlighting your eyes, and glossy pink lips. Pablo knew nothing about makeup, but he knew for certain that if he got his hands on you, he would destroy whatever you had painted on your lips to make them shine. You batted your long lashes, and smiled shyly as Pedri let out a low whistle.

"Wow, who knew you were hiding all of this? Were you looking for husband tonight? This is the way to get it." He offered a hand, spinning you around so he (or rather Gavi) could get a full look, the blue bow in your hair flowing beautifully.

"You're too sweet, Pedri. I just didn't want to embarrass the club."

"Embarrass?!" They both exclaimed loudly, catching the attention of a few bystanders.

"You're on track to upstage us. They pay you enough to afford Prada?" Pedri asked again, pointing to your shoes.

"Your mortal enemy lent them to me."

A friend of Pedri's came up to whisk him away to another group, leaving you standing with Pablo.

"So, what do you think, Pablo? Too much?" You were nervous, resisting the urge to clench your dress in your fists and scurry off. You smoothed your clammy palms down the fabric as well.

"Doctora, you know I'm not super smart like you. I don't even know the words I want to tell you right now. So I'll use one I know: you look breathtaking." He practically whispered out the last word, causing your head to snap up, eyes meeting. "I think you might be the prettiest girl in the room right now." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, swallowing back his nerves and pride. You were absolutely stunning, and no friendship or professionalism would stop him from letting you know.

"Thank you, Pablo. You have no idea how much that means coming from you." You moved forward, adjusting his bowtie as an usher came to guide him to his seat. You moved to the back with other team staff members, waving to him as he walked off. You were independent and a girlboss and all that, but it felt good to have him think you were pretty.

~

"And the winner is... Gavi."

The crowd erupted in cheers, the clapping so loud it was deafening. Pedri smiled from ear to ear, watching as his friend came up to the stage to take his place as Europe's shining star, their Golden Boy. Gavi had been frozen in his seat for a second before Robert pushed him up, clapping him on the back and congradulating him. As he placed his hands around the trophy, his peripheral vision registered the people moving from their seats, standing and clapping for his success. Pedri was smug in his congratulations, reminding Pablo he never had a doubt he would be handing off this trophy to him. And as Pablo took his place at the podium, the gold statue adorning his side, he saw you. In the third to last row of the theater, you stood, by yourself in a row full of staff, clapping excitedly for his achievement. Your smile was bright, teeth on full display to convey the level of genuine joy you felt in that moment. You almost looked happier than Gavi himself. And as the applause died down and people retook their seats, he watched you sit back down, hands crossed over your chest in pride and admiration. He looked straight at you, a point of comfort in the large crowd, and only then did he allow the unbridled joy of being the very best to fill him.

"Thank you. I am so proud to have achieved this, to have won such a prestigious award in my first full season with Barca's first team. Thank you to my family for standing by me in the good times and the bad, and for believing in me. Thank you to the club, who gave me every opportunity to play and show my skill this season. A huge thanks to my coach and teammates for helping me succeed. And finally, I want to recognize and thank the Barca staff, especially the physio team, for all their hard work this season. I wouldn't be here without their dedication. Once again, thank you very much for the honor. Visca Barca."

All he wanted was to run off the stage into your arms, to ignore the questions about his season and his success, but there would be time later. You, on the other hand, were trying to recover from the shell shock of Pablo recognizing you specifically during his acceptance speech. Your phone buzzed in your lap at a mile a minute, text messages flooding in from friends and family telling you they had watched Gavi's praise of you on TV. You sat in that same shocked state until the ceremony ended.

~

Why on Earth did so many people want to talk to Gavi? Sure, he had just won one of the most important awards in football, but they had already played his highlight reel. What else could they want to know that wasn't on YouTube? He still smiled politely, congratulating Luka and Robert on their awards before he was able to catch a spare moment alone at a far table, Pedri pulling up to his side shortly after, also fatigued from small talk. His trophy was in hand, a little less shiny now that every person who greeted him had asked to hold it, the luster dulled by grease and fingerprints. The two stood in a comfortable silence, exchanging remarks about the room or the guests at the function every once in a while.

"Pablo! There you are!"

He looked up at the sound of your voice, but not nearly fast enough as you came barreling into him, arms thrown around his neck and embracing him so tight he thought he might pass out (not that he was complaining).

"I'm so, so proud of you." You whispered in his ear, squeezing a little tighter before releasing him, smoothing the soft material of his blazer to release the wrinkles you caused with your attack.

"I'm so glad all your hard work had amounted to this, and I hope I'm around to see how amazing you'll be in the future." You said, emotion making your voice crack slightly. There was something about Pablo that convinced you, deep in your soul, that you were two halves meant to come together. He was young, passionate, ambitious - a reflection of yourself. And to watch him succeed? To see him soar to heights previously thought impossible? It was something you wouldn't trade for the world.

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

"Y/N! There you are."

Joao's built arm was wrapped around you, smelling slightly of whiskey and Dior Fahrenheit. The anger vein in Gavi's forehead began to make a reappearance.

"Mason had to see you and introduce you to some of the boys." Mason greeted you as well, and called over his 'friend Jude' to be introduced. Jude Bellingham was an absolute sculpture, holding a glass of God knows what in such an effortless manner, his tie also abandoned in favor of leaving his first two buttons popped.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Jude. I've heard about you from this one - thinks you're a medical Godsend." He ended with a wink. Pedri could feel the heat radiating from Gavi's side, and apparently so could Jude, who looked up and offered a wave.

"Congrats, mate. Brilliant speech." He said, raising a glass to help bridge the language barrier. You turned your head, quickly translating the sentiment.

"Oh, you're with them? The super special physio that's gotten praised in his speech? I should've known I was in the presence of greatness." You laughed politely, tucking a loose strand of hair behind one ear.

"I'm really nothing special."

"Oh, well, that can't be true. I'll see for myself when I'm in SPain next year." A wink. Pedri grasped Pablo's arm to prevent blows. "Come with me, I want to introduce you to some of the boys and the staff from City."

You quickly turned around, finding Gavi and Pedri whispering to one another.

"Pablo! He wants to introduce me to some people. I'll come find you!"

Thirty minutes later, Pablo was at a table with his trophy and a scowl, moping on what should be a happy night. After his second turn around the room, Pedri joined him, hoping to alleviate the burden.

"Hermano, are you-"

"Why would she just go with him? Like, I understand not being able to turn someone away when they're in your face, but to go with him?! Why would she do that?" He asked, sounding more and more small and child-like as he continued.

"She was just networking, hermano. Trying to meet people and make connections."

"Connections. Look what her connections have got her. Other guys coming up to her, trying to flirt in the most obvious ways possible. None of them know her like I do. None of them will ever - can ever - care about her in the way that I do. She needs to realize that no one will ever want to treat her right the way that I long to."

"Maybe you need to realize that it's not always the best guy that will get the girl, but the boldest one."

"What?"

"How many opportunities have you had, hm? To tell her you wanted her, to profess your love, to kiss her in her car or under street lamps or in front of the whole world? But you just stay sitting on the sidelines waiting for her to come to you. You know what's happening during that time? A Joao or a Jude or a Martin is taking the risk of telling her she's amazing, and she's going to accept. She's going to accept love that's less than yours because someone else was willing to give it to her, proudly and confidently. And you'll be sitting next to me, twenty years from now when we're both retired, talking about how the love of your life slipped between your fingers. She's here, right now, and you are still waiting. Either take the shot or let someone else shoot."

A fear shot through Pablo that he had never felt before. The idea of you, right now, falling in love with someone else made the bile rise in his throat. He couldn't do it again. He couldn't watch you be with a man who thought you were anything less than the entire universe. It was him. Pablo Gavi was the one meant to have you, to hold you, to protect you from every evil and show you every joy. You were his soulmate, and he would move heaven and earth for his lover who was written for him in the stars.

He stood, scurrying to where Jude and the others had congregated. "Sorry to interrupt, but have you seen y/n?" He asked, trying to keep his voice steady and free from the terror threatening to consume him. He couldn't see your form anywhere in the ballroom.

"Oh," Kepa was the one to reply as the official Spanish speaker, "she went up to her room a few minutes ago. I think Joao took her up."

Pablo nodded before speed walking towards the door, breaking into a full sprint towards the elevators. Please. Please no. Please not Joao. Please not anyone. The ding when the elevator reached the third floor made his blood ripple, and he speed walked to your door, muttering under his breath.

"Please don't be in love with someone else."

He reached the door of your room, paralyzed with fear. He didn't know what he was about to do, but he knew he would implode and self-destruct if he didn't do something.

He lifted his fist, took a breath, and knocked firmly on the door. A moment later, you opened the door, still in the perfect shape he saw you before, but now barefoot on the plush carpet of the hotel.

"Pablo?"

He peered over your shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the room behind.

"Are you looking for something?"

"Please, tell me he's not in there."

"Who, Pablo?"

"Anyone. Please tell me that there is no one in there now waiting on you. Please tell me," he pleaded softly, moving toward you and placing his hands on your shoulder, moving one down to rest right above where your heart beat. "Please tell me there is no one else in here. I have never begged in my life, Doctora, but I'm here now to beg you: tell me who is the one you're reserving a place in your heart for. Because I know, more than I know anything else in this world, that my soul is yours. Everything I could possibly give, I am asking you to take it without a second thought. And I have pretended, for months now, that I don't need you like the very air I'm breathing. But the more I pretend, the more clear it becomes: I have never loved anything as strongly as I love you. It is overwhelming and all consuming the way every heartbeat and breath is just for you. So just tell me how long I will have to wait. Days, months, years - tell me how long it will be until I get to love you, wholly and completely. Until I get to love you as you deserve. Because there is no other choice. There is no moving on. Every angel in heaven knows that I would struggle in vain until my last dying breath trying to get over you."

There were no words. Hell, there was no air. There was only Pablo, breathless and shaking before you, his fragile heart in your hands. Your hands moved to cup his face, and the urge to cry didn't consume you. You pulled him in, lips finally connecting with his, and the electricity that jolted through you could have lit up all of Paris. His lips were slow to react, and as you pulled away he followed, reluctant to stop kissing you in fear he would never start again.

"You, Pablo. My heart is yours. I'm yours. I always have been."

This time it was Pablo who pulled you in, his arms around your waist lifting you into him. He basked in the plump flesh of your lips, the way it felt to hold you in his arms, a million times better than he could have imagined. It was as if your hearts were racing in sync, thumping the same beat that reverberated around the little bubble the two of you were in. You shifted hands from his face to his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. You had craved this, to be so close and connected with Pablo. The kiss was slow, passionate, the kiss to say 'I have waited for you for so long' and the one in return to say 'I'm here to stay'.

Pedri had gone upstairs to look for Pablo, scared he had committed manslaughter, and found the two of you there, kissing in the hallway, arms enveloping each other and lips locked in a soft and tender embrace. He placed Pablo's trophy (his whole reason for finding him on the ground, turning to leave before stopping and performing his duties as a friend: taking a picture. Maybe he should buy Gavi a whole pack of frames.

You finally pulled away, face flushed and lips pinkish and swollen from the liplock. You kept your arms around Pablo, turning your face to hide in his shoulder. You spotted the golden statue on the floor and smiled as you moved to pick it up, stopped by his strong and unfaltering embrace.

"Your award, Pablo."

"You're my real prize of this evening."

"Ugh how corny." You laughed, finally freeing yourself to go and pick it up. You carried it before turning from Pablo to unlock your room door, timidly standing in the entryway.

"Do... you want to come inside?" You asked, cradling his trophy in your arms.

"Do you want me to come inside?" He asked, heart threatening to break his sternum. He had never thought of going so far so fast.

"I mean if you don't want to-"

"No I want to, preciosa. God I want- but I don't want to make you feel like you have to."

"You're not. I want you Pablo. All of you." You opened the door wider, inviting him in. "Dale, campeon."

~

You left Pablo on the bed while you went to slip out of your dress. As much as you wanted Pablo (in an immediate fashion), you couldn't risk stains or rips on such an expensive lended piece. You re-emerged from the bathroom in a black night gown, a satin slip that came just past your fingertips. Pablo had made himself comfortable, stripping his jacket and shoes, abandoning the bowtie and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. You walked out slowly, standing in front of him shyly.

"What do you think?" You asked, giving a little spin. He reached out a hand, pulling you down to the bed and seating you on his lap.

"I lied before," he said softly. "You weren't 'maybe the prettiest girl tonight'. You're the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. In every room and on every night." His hands found your hips and his lips found yours, and the flames were fanned. He moved with a fervor you had never experienced, like he couldn't get enough of the feel of your lips or the taste of your tongue. He bit down softly on your bottom lip, desperate to illicit every pretty sound he could from you. He nibbled gently, pulling with his teeth and then soothing with his tongue before reuniting it with yours. He gripped the flesh of your hips, and your hands leg his lower, encouraging him to find stability on the flesh of your ass.

"You're perfect." He said breathlessly, moving to kiss and nibble at your neck. You shifted on his lap, desperate for any friction to help douse the flames between your legs. He shifted the two of you so that you were straddling one of his thighs, allowing you rock yourself back and forth as he continued worshipping and lapping at your skin.

"Pablo, it's so good." You whined as he moved down to kiss the exposed tops of your breasts. He looked up at you, asking for permission to remove your nightgown, which you gave with quick enthusiasm. He grabbed at the bottom hem, lifting it over your head in one fluid motion before stopping. He stared at you, moving across your bare chest and down to your nude lace thong.

"Oh this won't do." He muttered while gripping your waist and flipping your positions so that you were laying on the mattress with him above you.

"What?" You asked while your arms moved to cover your chest. He removed them swiftly, licking his lips and giving each breast a kiss, making your nipples harden.

"I need to have you spread out underneath me so I can take in every gorgeous inch of you." He said before he trailed his lips down your entire torso.

"Can't believe someone who looks like you is all mine. I've wanted you for so long." He finished his sentence with a searing kiss to your lips.

"Just wanted you to see how much someone could love you. And I would still love you, even if you want to stop right now and never do this again." He said, pulling back slightly before you threaded your fingers through his hair and brought his mouth to your chest.

"No, don't wanna stop. I want you. I need you Pablo please." You whine out, and hoped he knew that you meant it in every possible way. He allowed his tongue to drag across your nipples before sucking one into his mouth, playing with the other as he watched for your reactions. His cock was straining against his boxers and dress pants, and he rutted against the mattress for any sort of relief.

"Pablo it's too good."

"Always want to be good for you, Doctora. Wanna give you the best."

He moved his hands to the waistband of your panties, moving them down and watching the resistance, seeing how big the wet patch was and how your thighs clenched for some sort of pleasure.

"Open up, pretty girl."

"Pablo, want you. Want you please."

"I'm right here, baby. All yours."

You grabbed on of his hands sucking two of his fingers in his mouth while keeping your eyes locked, tongue circling and his cock now rubbing up on the flesh of your thigh.

"Want you inside me. Please, Pablo."

He rubbed his two wet fingers up and down your slit, teasing and just listening to the way you reacted. The cool air heightened everything, and you could do nothing but squirm in place.

"Love the way you say my name, preciosa. Let me take care of you." He slipped a finger inside, and you both moaned in sync. You at the feeling of finally having Pablo pleasing you, and him at the wetness he encountered. He quickly put in another, lips going back to yours as if they were addictive. He leaned back, slipping out of his trousers and boxers when you put a hand on his chest.

"Pablo. I..."

"We can stop if you want." He said, already making a move to get up and redress despite his cock leaking.

"No. I want this. I want you. I just... promise me something?"

"Anything."

"Please don't leave me after we have sex."

He looked at your hurting eyes and felt his chest squeeze. He cupped your face, kissing your forehead. "I could never leave you, Doctora." Another chaste kiss, this time to the tip of your nose. "You don't have to worry. I'll always be with you. I promise." He brought you in and kissed you, lips slotting together and tongues dancing together as if they had years of practice.

"Always have to seal the promise with a kiss." He said playfully, and you looked away in embarrassment. He spread your legs and found a space between them, tilting your head with a finger under your chin.

"Look at me baby. I want to see that pretty face when I make you feel good. Wanna see how hot you are when you cum all over me. Make the cutest little mess." He said, spitting in his hand slightly and rubbing the length of his cock. You sat up on your forearms, watching the erotic sight as Pablo ran his tip up and down your slit.

"Pablo," you whined.

He lined himself up, lifting you by the back of the neck to kiss you as he pushed in, the stretch causing you to bite his bottom lip harder than expected (he kind of liked it). He stayed for a minute on his forearms above you, hoping that time would allow you to adjust and prevent him from busting on stroke three. He placed his arms beside your head, leaning down and resting his forehead on yours.

"I love you." He said, picking up his pace as he did so. Your whine was high pitched and loud, fueling Pablo's ego tremendously.

"I love you more." You retorted, moving your hips to spur him to go faster. He pulled out of your slowly once again, then re-sheathed himself with force. He was moving slow and taking his sweet time, savoring every delicious second of the evening.

"Not possible, angel." And then pulled all the way out before slamming back in. Pablo was forceful, shifting your body with every thrust. He kissed your lips and neck, purple springs blooming from each spot he touched. You loved the feeling. You belonged to him, body and soul, and you wanted everybody to know.

"Please, Pablo. Faster. I'm begging." You breathed out, and he could do nothing but oblige.

"That's my pretty girl, taking it so well. Feeling so fucking good wrapped around me. So wet and sucking me in. Fuck. You're so good for me."

You had decided to suck on Pablo's neck to prevent you from moaning your heart out to all of Paris. A large hickey was developing just above his collarbone with not one care towards its ability to be covered. You were feeling that familiar buildup in your stomach, and brought a hand down to play with your clit that was quickly swatted away.

"Gonna cum, baby? Let me spoil you. Let me take care of you." He said as he pressed his thumb to your clit and started rubbing circles into the sensitive bud. There was no more suppressing your moans as they emerged full force. It was perfect. Pablo was perfect, telling you how much he wanted and loved you while looking after your pleasure.

"Please don't stop Pablo I'm so so fucking close."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He said, and seconds later, his name was the only thing on your lips as you came, gripping onto his back and trailing your nails down, his toned back the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. He finished a minute after you, rolling over in exhaustion. You expected him to turn onto his side and ignore you like every other man you had slept with. Instead, he got you both under the comforter, laying down and bringing you to lay on his chest.

"You're so incredible, do you know that?" He asked, kissing your forehead gently.

"You're one to talk." There's giggles and comfort despite the lack of clothes. When the high dies down, you turn to his tired form, which is still smiling at you.

"What are you so smiley for?" You asked.

"I'm with the best person in the world. How can I not smile when I'm with you?"

You laid back on his chest, guilt and paranoia seeping in, obvious by the tension building in your form.

"I love you, Doctora. I love you, I love you, I love you. You are worth more than sex. And I don't love you just because you're hot. You complete me, in every possible way."

"I love you more, Pablo."

"As the medical professional, you should know that's not possible."

He released you from his grip to get shirts and underwear for the two of you to sleep in, still not used to Pablo + you + nudity. You laid back down, cuddled into Pablo's chest as you had for months now, and drifted off into the most relaxing sleep. You were in love with a boy. And he was hopelessly, desperately in love with you. And there was nothing else in the world that mattered in this moment except for the way you tangled together to feel safe. Before he could drift off, Pablo heard the ding of his phone. A photo from Pedri of the two of you in the hall.

[Pedri]: congrats on all your wins today hermano

~

The flight back to Barcelona was nerve-racking for you. You were anxious as to how your boss and peers would perceive your new relationship with Pablo, which he established right away.

"No 'what are we' bullshit'. You're my girlfriend, and that's only because I didn't have a ring on me to make you my fiancee."

His hand was laced through yours the entire walk through the terminal, so proud to show you off to the world as his. As you two boarded the flight, it was Anna who finally asked if something had happened in Paris.

"I asked her to be my girl and she said yes."

There was a round of cheering from those on the plane, and after a swift whatsapp message from Pedri, there were hundreds of messages in the groupchat, from congrats to jokes to utter disbelief. Neither of you looked at any of it. Pablo was too busy counting the stars he saw in your eyes, studying every feature on your face, sneaking in a kiss whenever he could. And you listened to him ramble, intoxicated by the sound of his voice, the melody bringing you tranquility. He was your peace. He was your everything.

"Ah, so you two will be needing these." Xavi said, placing the 'Relationship Disclosure' form and two pens in front of the both of you. "Gavi, don't distract her from her work."

"Hey! Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"No. You're the distraction." You teased, earning Pablo's full attention and wrath.

"I can tell by the way you've been staring at me for two days."

"Oh Pablo, I've been staring at you much longer than that."

"I hope you never stop."

~

A/N: and there it is folks. Almost 8 months later, here is Just Pretend. There will be an epilogue to this at some point to show what happens with their relationship (and it will have better smut), but this is it for the main story. Please share any feedback you have in replies, reblogs, or in the ask box. Thank you so so much to everyone who has stuck by this story for so long. I love you all.

*~*Taglist*~*

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[saturnianautist]

☁️Astro notes☁️

Disclaimer: I’m not a professional astrologer these are just my opinions based on what I know and my experiences with who I know.

Ps. This is my very first post on here so I hope whoever finds it enjoys :)

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

☁️ The Libras I’ve met arguing style is playing devils advocate lol. They want to talk about the situation from every perspective (that but what if friend lmao) whereas their opposite sign Aries have very strong set opinions and beliefs and will make theirs known controversial or not. (This goes for the sun moon and mercury especially)

☁️ I noticed time tends to move a lot faster for Fire suns with air placements and they move and think faster in general so they will be your impatient friend lmao. They also will often exaggerate how long something has been. For example,

Them: “you’ve been in here for 20 hours”

Me: “It has literally been 30 mins”

☁️ Virgo placements will literally eat one tiny ass bite the whole time they eat their food, like they will savor that plate of food for an hour bro. They are your friend or family member who will eat one popcorn piece at a time (yes im roasting myself).

☁️ Having dominantly Aquarius and Pisces in a chart together can make someone so distant sometimes and prone to escapism. They also are prone to isolating in their rooms as a coping mechanism and sleeping all day when they are going through it mentally.

☁️ Someone with an Aries mercury in a Capricorn degree can make the things they say come off so harshly sometimes but they almost never mean it that way. The good side of this tho is that they are someone who will always be honest with you they just need better delivery sometimes.

☁️ Having Neptune in the first house mean’s constantly having other people project onto you. They might have an entirely different version of who they think you are based on assumptions. That’s why being able to differentiate between true friends with this is so important.

☁️ Libra moons aren’t as emotionally put together as they look on the outside (gives I’m my own therapist energy). If you have a libra moon friend give them a hug.

☁️ Sag moons are also like this but in a different way, they’ll just be either very optimistic around their friends or will make jokes or do dumb shit to make other people laugh when in reality it’s partly to cope and mask their pain, check on these friends please 😭

☁️ Sag moons traveling to another place will not solve your problems chill on your escapism (again roasting myself rip).

💗💗💗For those who made it to the end thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed it <3. This was kind of short but just jotted these down the other day and wanted to share. Also, feel free to comment any suggestions of the types of posts you’d like to see and I’ll do my best💗💗💗

[thefallennightmare]

Comfort-Noah Sebastian

*gif created by me. feel free to use(sorry for the poor quality)*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: language, mentions of period, and all-around good fluff.

Summary: Reader suffers from really bad period cramps and Noah takes care of her the only way he knows how.

Authors Note: Again, to the anon who requested this, I'M SO SORRY! I completely forgot so I really hope this makes up for it.

"Angel?"

A soft voice sounded from the other side of the door, followed by a gentle knock. I peered over the piles of blankets that I cocooned myself under and called out that the door was open.

"How're you feeling?" Noah asked with a frown.

I sighed and clutched my lower stomach. "The pain is terrible and the warm compress doesn't seem to do much."

It was like this every month for five days. My period cramps were awful, the pain causing me to be stuck in bed for days. Sometimes it would be so bad that I'd be hunched over the toilet, throwing up. It wasn't anything I enjoyed, so I always made sure that I stayed home away from Noah during those five days once a month. However, since we moved in together last month, this was the second time he'd been able to witness firsthand the pain I went through. And just like last month, he was there for whatever I needed.

"I ran you a warm bubble bath if you think you can make it to the bathroom," he nodded towards the bathroom across the hall.

I sat up slowly. "You didn't have to do that."

Noah shrugged before pulling off the mounds of blankets and taking the now cold compress that I was using to soothe my cramps.

"Soak as long as you need and I'll make you something to eat. What do you want?"

Ignoring the shooting pain that spread across my abdomen, I left a kiss on his lips in a way of saying thanks for running me a bath.

"Honestly, surprise me. Anything sweet."

With a gentle pat to my ass, Noah led me to the bathroom where he parted ways with me to trot back downstairs while I spent the next twenty minutes in the tub letting the warm water and bubbles ease some of the pain away.

Once dressed in a pair of Noah's sweats and oversized shirts, I slowly made my way downstairs to the kitchen where I saw Noah leaning over the sink, mixing something in a bowl. He had yet to get dressed for the day, baring all of his tattoos on his stomach, chest, and arms for all, or just me, to see. His long hair was a disheveled mess, but he still looked absolutely breathtaking. If I wasn't on my period, I'd probably make him take me on the counter.

He peered over his shoulder as he heard me walk in, a bright smile on his face. "Did the bath help?"

I nodded while sitting at our kitchen table. "It did, actually. Thank you again."

"Anytime, angel. French toast is almost finished. There's a glass of orange juice and some meds to help with the pain," Noah nodded to the glass and two pills that lay on the table in front of me.

My heart warmed with yet another small but kindest action from him today. After drowning the meds down with half of the orange juice, Noah brought me a plate of steaming hot French toast which I could only eat about half before the cramps made me hiss out in pain.

"Still bad?" he wondered, pushing his empty plate away.

"Yeah, I feel terrible. We had plans to go to the fair with Jesse, but I don't think I can handle walking for hours," I sighed.

Suddenly, Noah's arms pulled me from the chair, and carried me bridal style through the kitchen into the living room where the couch was set up with an array of blankets and pillows, the title screen to my favorite movie on the television.

"What's this?" I asked with a hint of a smile.

As he placed me on the couch and covered me with blankets, he sunk deep next to me, and I wrapped an arm and leg around him. The comfort of the large couch was exactly what I needed in order to deal with this pain.

"This," he pointed to the television. "Is our plans for the rest of the day. If you feel up for it, we can go to the fair tomorrow."

I stared up at him with so much adoration in my eyes that my heart swelled up in two sizes. Everything he had done since the moment I woke up this morning made every single cell in my body vibrate with love; something I'd never thought I'd get from a partner. I was sure if I told someone I was with that I was on my period, the flow heavy and cramps so bad that I could barely move sometimes breath, they would ditch me for the week and come back when I wasn't a mess.

But not Noah. He even changed the sheets this morning when I woke up to the blood staining my pants and the bed. Not once did he turn away in disgust or avoid me? He was what I thought every partner should be for their significant other.

Turning his chin towards me, I placed a firm but quick kiss on his lips, one he had no issue returning.

"I love you," I smiled into the kiss.

Noah brushed his nose over mine. "Anything for you, angel."

[anki-of-beleriand]

In the darkness you said goodbye

Summary: Wanda makes a mistake, and she thinks she can tlak herself out of it.

Warnings: Cheating, F/M sex, bittersweet ending, Wanda is to blame.

Pairing: Reader/Wanda - Reader/Carol - Wanda/Vision

Author's note: This story is an experiment, mostly I want to see how it goes as a one shot, and second just want to see how it goes with Wanda. I hope you guys liked it, as always English is not my mother tongue so forgive me my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Second part: In the light you love her

 Winter was your favourite time of the year.

The snowflakes falling on the ground, and the sound of Christmas jingles around the streets was enough to put you on a good mood. It had been five years since Thanos was defeated it and the Blip was reversed changing the shape of the universe, the stories people told were now shaped for a past that defied everything they knew.

Midgard had certainly changed in the last years; new heroes were born and the old ones were ready to step aside and give way to the new generations. Your face lifted up to the Avengers Tower standing proudly in midtown Manhattan while the cold of the early afternoon surrounded you in a comforting embrace.

You smiled to yourself, music blasting through your ears while your hand closed around the small box you had worked your ass off to get for this special date. Your phone vibrated, the ringtone you attached to Natasha’s name breaking through the music and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the sudden interruption.

“Yes, mom?” The voice at the other end chuckled, and you allowed yourself a tender smile.

“I’m just making sure you’re okay, kiddo, no need to be a brat about it.”

“I am okay, more than okay, I’m super okay!”

“So, you’re nervous.” The older woman replied, and you gulped chewing on your lower lip.

“I am, I’m super nervous.” You confessed, the hand closing around the small box as you spoke. “Tasha, I love her, I…god when I lost her in the Blip, I almost lost myself to darkness…”

“I remember, Y/N, I know it was hard for you.” And Natasha remembered those dark times, you had always been an open gate to darkness.

The very nature of your species made it easier for your heart and soul to give into darkness, your powers were not only a manifestation of your mutation but also a warning sign of what you were capable of doing. But Natasha never gave up on you, and from the moment Thor brought you in and she took care of you, you became the woman Natasha knew you could be. Then, Thanos happened and Natasha could see for the very first-time what Thor and even Loki meant when they said that you were born out of pure blackness. You became unfeeling, careless, cold and almost cruel…

The moment you lost Wanda, on that battlefield watching her disappeared, that was the first time Natasha feared you.

You turned around destroying every single servant that Thanos had brought with him, your shadows covering Wakanda just before they perished in screams of pure agony. Darkness had covered you, and everything would have ended in disaster if Steve hadn’t knock you out; not many understood the deepness of your love for Wanda, but Natasha had been there to see the growing friendship, the affection and the tender moments stolen in between their teenage years.

Natasha had seen the relationship grow from afar, and she could tell you were far to in love with Wanda to not suffer with her lost. But even after you woke up, it wouldn’t be until everyone went looking for Thanos in space that you really broke.

Natasha still remembered when you crumbled to your feet after having destroyed an entire fleet of Chitahuri while looking for Thanos with Carol. How you cried until she put her arms around you, and you finally let go of the pain of losing the woman you loved with all your heart and might. You cried for days, and soon every surviving Avenger was afraid of losing you, of not being able to reach out to you. Natasha hated to see the suffering in your face, the whimpers leaving your lips as you tried to talk and explain that you were hurting so badly you didn’t know what to do.

It took time, but eventually you started recovering. Tony and Steve, as well as Carol and Rocket helped in the process. From them you learnt about your past, and your planet, they talked to you about your origins and your powers, and Natasha was happy to see you recover.

You became not only an Avenger, but also an amazing woman.

And now, after five years of having defeated Thanos and recovering the woman you had been in love since you were fifteen years old, it was just fair for you to have a happy ending.

“You have grown so much since I first met you, Y/N. Wanda is a lucky girl, you know?”

“Nah, I’m the lucky one, I just hope…I mean…” You stood by the gates of the Tower, trembling while cleaning up your sweaty hands. “We’ve been talking about having children and all, and I just… I don’t know if I’m a mom material but…”

“You are. You are, Y/N, now stop stalling and go get her, kiddo. I love you.” Natasha stated in that motherly tone you had come to love as well, you chuckled when you heard Yelena in the background and Natasha cursing in Russian.

“Okay, okay, don’t kill auntie Lena, and stop cursing. I call you when …. when I can.”

“Please have loud, sweaty sex with your soon to be fiancée, and call us when you finish!”

“Yelena!”

You chuckled shaking your head while hanging up.

The building was mostly empty, there was only one security guard that greet you with a polite smile and a mug of hot chocolate on his hands. You went past him into the elevators, your finger selecting the floor Tony had given to Wanda when he first finished the Avengers Tower.

You stood there hearing the music, your hands completely sweaty while your heart hammered hard against your chest. There was a deep void inside your stomach, and you couldn’t help but lifted your eyes to the numbers on the screen. You knew that day would be the day, today had been your last active day as a hero, and Tony had already hired you as normal everyday scientist in one of his investigational facilities. Wanda still thought you were in Kamar Taj with Strange and a girl that had shown to his doorstep, so tonight would be a great surprised that you hope would finally give you your happily ever after.

When Wanda came back, trying to build your relationship with her had been hard.

Wanda found it difficult to adapt herself to a life she was not used to, she found it hard to find out you had travelled around the galaxy being a hero with someone like Carol Danvers and Rocket. At first, you found it funny that Wanda was jealous of Carol, but then it was not only Carol but also your new house in Westview, or the bicycle you bought to go around the city. It was about your job at Stark’s Industries and your lack of interested in being a hero. Then it was you leaving your hero life behind and wanting to be normal, or to gather the new generation of heroes…

Your relationship with Wanda had been rocky, to say the last, after she came back.

But you had learnt that time and communication fixed everything, and after a while the both of you talked about what you really wanted. About your future, about your hopes…and you realized that Wanda wanted nothing more than a life with you. To build a family, and to be happy. She was finding it hard to do so, in a world that had moved on without her, and you made sure to let her know every day that your life had been nothing without her in it.

You smiled putting the ring from your pocket.

Now, finally you could close the last gap and asked Wanda to marry you. You had given up everything in your old life, to start your new life with Wanda.

“Okay, here we go…”

The door of the elevator open and you stepped inside the living room. The place was decorated with candles, and the sweet aroma of Wanda’s favourite perfume. You furrowed your brows, looking around the place you could see her back, and some of her things scattered around.

You walked down the halls, stopping dead on your tracks when your eyes fell upon something you did not recognize. It was a dark jacket. You looked around the scene, and then you caught the sounds. You felt dizzy, your body burning while your stomach dropped leaving a foul taste in your throat.

The hallway was dark, most of the doors were closed but the last one at the end of the hallway. Yellowish light came from it, and as you approached it you could tell it was the light coming from different candles. You were trembling, all of a sudden you felt cold and empty.

A heavy weight positioned above your shoulders, and your heart trembled at the sight before you.

Wanda was on the bed, sprawled and legs wide open with Vision on top of her. Both were naked, and Wanda was throwing her head back grabbing the bedsheets tightly, Vision was trusting inside her whispering in her ear.

Your eyesight blurred for a moment, but your presence went unnoticed and just as you came in, you left. You were staggering around the hallway until your knees gave up and you fell with a soft thud, tears rolling down your eyes and the ring you had made for Wanda fell to the floor.

A part of you, the darker part, ignited a fire inside you ready to scream and bring down the hole building with Wanda and Vision in it. You wanted to make them suffered, for them to experiment the sheer pain you were experimenting at the moment. But another part, the one you had gained with your family and friends simply told you to go.

And so, you did. Falling into the shadows you disappeared leaving behind the ring you had made to Wanda as promised to her, a commitment, and show of your love for her.

Later that same night, Wanda cringed shivering as she exited her room. She placed a hand on her face, shamed and self-disgust filling up her mind, just as she thought of the passion that Vision ignited in her. She knew she needed to put a stop to the affair with Vision; she knew that she had to do it soon if she really wanted to move forward with Y/N and actually started the family you two had talked about. But Wanda was afraid to do so, she was afraid of the consequences, of Vision not understanding, of anyone finding out…

Wanda was strolling down the hallway until her feet stepped on something hard on the floor. She furrowed her brows, and her expression soon changed as she realized it was a small box. At first she thought this was one of Vision’s attempts to get to her heart, but then Wanda felt her stomach dropped and her heart ached painfully in her chest.

Inside the box there was a ring.

And suddenly, Wanda realized how stupid she had been.

Wanda stood there, her eyes wide open filled with tears. She made her way to the door, but you were no longer there, the room was still dark and when she turned on the lights her gazed fell upon the dark box you had been carrying for almost five years.

“Wanda…” Vision said behind her, but Wanda couldn’t do or say anything at all, her eyes completely fixed on the ring you had brought to her.

It was a start.

A green start resembling a spiralling galaxy, the shank of the ring made of white gold.

Your name and hers written around it, the date you two said I love you to one another right beside them.

It was at moment that Wanda realized how stupid she had been.

_________________________________________

“You really have some nerve to come here, Wanda.” Natasha stood by the door glaring at the redhead, her arms crossed though she could sense Yelena getting her weapons ready.

“Natasha, I need to talk to her.” Wanda was on the verge of desperation.

For more than a month she had tried to reach out to you, to try and get to talk to you and explain herself. Wanda knew that whatever you had seen, whatever had happened, she would need to do more than explain what had happened. Why she did it. You were nowhere to be found, and everyone had closed their doors to Wanda who only got disgusted faces, and harsh words thrown at her.

She knew she was risking a lot by coming here, but it was her last chance.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you.” Natasha stated, her eyes glaring at Wanda. “Now, if you excuse me…”

“Natasha, please…” Wanda all but begged, she had tears in her eyes and it was quite evident she had not sleep in quite a while.

Natasha hesitated; she wondered if Wanda understood the gravity of her sin.

The former Black Widow almost went to the Tower to kill with her bare hands the red head. Y/N had come home, a scream of pure pain leaving her lips just as tears rolled down her cheeks. It took Natasha almost an hour to get Y/N to tell her what had happened, and she was so heartbroken she curled up on her bed and cried while holding a hand to her chest.

No one knew the reality of a broken heart.

How much it hurt, how it made your body cold and ached as if a thousand knives went through your every nerve. Y/N spent three days on her bed, ignoring everyone and everything around her. For a brief moment, Natasha had been afraid of the darkness growing in your eyes, day in and out seeing it covered your iris and expanding little by little.

“You broke her heart, Wanda.” Natasha stated through gritted teeth. “You broke her, and she loved you more than life itself. I can’t tell you just how much she loved you and how much you messed up…”

“I know! I know! I know!” Wanda screamed putting a hand on her face. “I know screwed up! I KNOW!”

Natasha seemed unfazed by the outburst, and Wanda broke in front of the former Widow pleading with her eyes.

“Please, I just need…”

“She is not here.” Natasha finally said.

“What?” Wanda winked confusedly; Natasha hesitated before speaking.

“She left two days ago.”

“Where? Why?” Wanda panicked, she glanced at Natasha then back at Yelena. “Where is she?”

“She left the planet; Loki came in and took her away.” This time around it was Yelena, the blond-haired woman smirked nastily at Wanda. “And we don’t know when she will be back, perhaps never, and if she is lucky, she may meet someone that won’t break her heart.”

Wanda stood there, lost and crushed by this news. Natasha hesitated for a moment, a part of her feeling this was not the best way to give the news. The woman stepped forward moving past Wanda.

“She is not coming back anytime soon, Wanda, so if I were you I would just let go.” Natasha turned to look at Wanda. “She waited for you, she almost lost herself for you, she was going to marry you…”

“I know! I just…god, this is so mess up!” Wanda wrapped her arms around herself. “I need to…I…I just…I need her…”

“You’re too late for that, Wanda.” Natasha then turned around and left.

Wanda stood there.

She was alone, lost and desperate, and without a single clue as to where you were or how to reach you out. Not a single way to talk to you, to explain to you…Wanda fell to her knees, her hand reaching out for the ring in her pocket. Tears rolling down her cheeks, and her mind a pool of confusing thoughts.

She would wait if it was necessary.

She knew that you were hurt, and she would wait for you to have a chance to explain herself to you.

And then, she would make sure to show you that Wanda was yours. That you held her heart in your hands.

It would be quite a while before she would see you again. But Wanda would wait, just the same way you did.

_________________________________________

Winter was back.

You lifted your eyes to the sky, closing your eyes while enjoying the feeling the cold on your face. Your ears twitched catching the sound of laughter inside the house, turning around you saw Kamala Khan squealing like a fangirl while hugging Carol tightly. You smirked at the sight, Carol was still getting used to such shows ow affection and Kamala was certainly someone without any limitations in her PDA.

“Y/N!! Oh, did you hear?? I will help you guys move!!!” Kamala went back inside her house screaming at the top of her lungs, “AMMI!”

“Move?” You asked raising a single eyebrow, Carol winced making her way to where you were standing.

“Well, I was thinking that perhaps I shouldn’t be moving around so much, and that staying on Earth is not such a bad thing, after all.” Carol shrugged looking away from you, her lip caught in her teeth with her mind filled with thoughts and possibilities.

Overthinking her every step as always.

“I think Monica is going to love it, Kamala is screaming her appreciation…”

“And you?” Carol asked this time around facing you with just a hint of uncertainty in her eyes. “You’re back again, what would you do?”

You had been away for two years, while you never stopped contacting Natasha and the others you had left earth with a single thing in mind. To heal. Your heart had been broken to pieces the moment you found about Wanda’s infidelity, you had cried and cursed and almost turned to darkness until you found yourself at the hands of Carol Danvers. For the second time, the woman took it upon herself to help you out, out of friendship she never thought she would get a chance with you; not after having heard of your story with Wanda and certainly not after she was back. Her odds didn’t improve one bit when she saw how heartbroken you were, Carol knew by then you needed a friend and that was what she offered you.

A friendship that, little by little turned into something else.

Still, there were times in which Carol doubt herself and the relationship she had forged with you.

You softened your featured, your arm wrapping around her waist putting her closer to you. She leaned in, nuzzling your neck before placing a soft kiss on your jaw looking for comfort. You smiled lowering your face until your lips met hers, the kiss was slow and sweet, and Carol smiled into the kiss.

“So, that’s an idea of what you want to do?”

“Ugh, gross.” Monica made a face while Kamala was looking at the scene with a glint of curiosity in her eyes.

“Okay, ladies, nothing to see here.” Carol tried to shush them away, but you wrapped your arms around her again, you turned her around and kissed her once more making Monica gaged and Kamala giggled nervously.

“Let’s give them a show, Danvers.” You mumbled in between kisses; she punched you lightly on the arm flustered stepping away from you before she decided to just follow your lead.

“Very well, I think it is time for me to go back to work but…” Monica turned to Carol wrapping her arms around her. “Please, Auntie Carol, tell me when you get there and don’t forget to keep an eye on the plane.”

“I won’t Captain trouble.” Carol said affectionately, Monica smiled sighing as she stepped back.

“Don’t be a stranger, Rambeau.” You gave her a hug, and the other woman glanced at you then back at Carol.

“You’re one to say, Natasha Romanoff is still waiting for you and you heard Fury…”

You winced fidgeting on your spot, you had heard Fury and Natasha was also waiting for you. You nodded scratching the back of your neck.

“I guess is inevitable.” You shrugged. “I will tell you all the gross details of these meetings.”

“I will wait for them anxiously, take care of Auntie Carol please.”

“I will, don’t worry.” You winked at Monica and stepped back to join Kamala and Carol inside the Khan’s family.

“Hey, are you okay?” Carol fixed your hair behind your ears, you nodded curtly pecking her nose.

“Yeah, let’s eat and then I will take you home, Captain Marvel.”

Earth had changed in the last two years she had been here.

The street were loudly, and the technology had certainly improved a lot. The stories were different now, most of them included the newest heroes in the cities, and the evilness lurking in the shadows.  You enjoyed the soft purr of the bike you had bought in Jersey City, Carol had her arm wrapped around your abdomen leaning against your body while you drove down the streets of a city you had not seen in a long time.

Up until now, you had spent your time in the guest room at the Khan’s family home. You had tried to say no, but Ms. Khan was very adamant that they would not stay in a hotel or something equally dangerous. And Kamala was beyond excited to have them both in her home, at least until all the moving details had been arranged and soon they would be driving down to Luisiana.

To say you were nervous was an understatement, it didn’t mater you had spoken with Natasha almost every day since leaving earth. Or that you had been kept up to date with the gossip around the Avengers and the newest additions thanks to Yelena, it was the fact that this little party would include Wanda as a guest. Two years ago, you had left your home running away from your feelings, your heart had been broken and you never thought it would mend. And while it took some time to get it back together, to actually allow yourself to feel and fall in love again.

You had done so.

Carol had become your world, but this time around you were careful to not lost yourself into the relationship. Carol was not an easy person, and while the road to happiness had been a bumpy one, you wouldn’t change a single thing of how everything happened. Not if it meant that at the end of the day she would wake up with you beside her, a mug filled with coffee and a morning of meaningless talks watching the space in the window of a ship.

“Wow, I don’t remember this building being here on my last visit.” Carol stated getting off the motorcycle, she glanced up to the building then turning to you.

“I bet Tony made some arrangements.” You smiled turning to the main gates, your hand seeking out hers.

“Are you ready?” Carol inquired tilting her head, you nodded curtly and then without wasting any more time, you two entered the building.

There were many familiar faces, but soon you found yourself being wrapped in a tight hug by none other than Natasha. You softened your face and your arms wrapped around her pulling her close to you, Carol watched from a distance, her lisp curling into a gentle smile before she turned around and left for the bar. These moments were for you, and you had been waiting to come back and see the people you love, Carol could understand that much. With a heavy heart, and insecurities filling up her mind, the woman made her way to the bar never noticing the redhead glaring daggers at her back.

“You look so good, Y/N, did you cut your hair?” Natasha put you at arm’s length, her eyes twinkling while the examine you with care.

“Yeah, a little and well I have to be on top physical form to be in space, so…” You smiled sheepishly, Natasha chuckled placing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“How have you been?” Natasha finally asked and you just shrugged.

“Fine, I guess. I just come here due to a mishap of  powers between Carol, Monica and a girl called Kamala.”

“So I heard, quite the adventure I guess.” Natasha then hit you on your arm.

“Hey!”

“So if it hadn’t been because of that you wouldn’t have come?” Natasha was a little hurt by this, you shook your head lowering your gaze before shrugging.

“No, of course not. I did have plans…” You stated and Natasha was about to speak but trailed off just as her eyes caught another person coming towards them. “I knew I have to come back, and I was dying to see you all, I was just… waiting…”

“You were waiting for what?” Wanda asked behind you, and she wait anxiously for you to turn around.

You thought the moment you heard her voice again, that you saw her again your resolution would crumble and that perhaps you would fall under her spell once more. One of your greatest gears included your weakness to perhaps leave behind your relationship with Wanda and moved forward. But this never happened, and soon after you started healing it was easier to move on. Now, after two years, you stood before her and you realized you had been scared for nothing.

Of course, your stomach dropped, your palms started sweating and your head fluttered in your chest when you saw her again. She was still as beautiful as you remembered her, her voice still carried with it such a powerful tinge, something you had always loved from her.

But something else had changed, the shivering in your heat came along with an old pain and rage that went through your senses. You clenched your fists closed, but remained impassive while Wanda offered a tentative smile.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Wanda chewed on her lower lip before speaking, “do you think we could talk?”

You glanced out of the corner of your eyes to see Natasha standing closed to you, Yelena had stopped talking with a brunette in a dark suit, and both of them were walking towards you. You then lifted your eyes and soon you found the eyes of Carol looking at you with curiosity, after a moment the other woman smiled and nodded in understanding.

“I think we need to talk, Wanda, lead the way.”

Two years ago, on a day such as this, you discovered the pain behind a betrayal.

You glanced at the sky, the snowflakes falling slowly down the streets, the breeze caressing your warm cheeks while you waited patiently for Wanda to speak. The other woman had changed as well, she looked thinner, and tired, her hair was longer and she seemed quiet and alone. Wanda turned her stare to you and you could see their love and regret and loneliness.

“Why didn’t you stay?” She asked, her voice breaking by the end of the question.

You raised a single eyebrow snorting while shaking your head.

“You really asking that?”

“The ring…You were there…” Wanda started and you winced remembering that day, the old pain coming back as you remembered how it felt.

“I could have killed you and Vision.” You stated looking away from her. “I was so mad, so heartbroken, Wanda…I knew if I had stayed or said something…well, it would have ended in a bloodbath.”

Wanda winced wrapping her arms around herself, “I just…god, I’m sorry. I just…I’m so sorry for everything, I never…”

“What, Wanda? You never what?” You asked harshly, Wanda stepped back lowering her face.

“I was afraid, and I wasn’t sure of what I wanted, okay? I came back and you were already all over me, and I really didn’t know what you were expecting of me, and he was just there listening to me and…”

“And I didn’t? Wanda I asked you, everyday I tried to make our communication to work!” You huffed rolling your eyes at the excuses. “What were you hoping for, Wanda? A child? A dick? What?”

Wanda had thought about it in the last two years, she thought about her reason and why she had entered into a senseless affair with Vision. The truth was she didn’t know exactly why, she always thought that you had everything resolved by the time she came back, you had five years to organise your life and made decision for the future whereas Wanda had been trapped in nothingness until she came back to face a world she didn’t recognize. Vision had been the only one who understood, the only one who let her talk and expressed the way she wanted to about the situation, and in the midst of those conversations Wanda fell into passion and desire to make her life and indecision more bearable.

“I was just hoping everything went back to normal, and that…I didn’t feel so lost.” Wanda mumbled knowing her words meant nothing to you at the moment.

You sighed shaking your head, “I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

“Y/N, I just…I…search for you.” Wanda mumbled, you nod curtly at her.

“I know.”

“I want to explain, to tell you that it meant thing.” Wanda stated lowly. “I wanted to tell you that I Lov…”

“Don’t.” You cut her off before she could continue. “Don’t say it, you don’t have any right to say to me anymore, Wanda.”

Wanda stepped forward, holding back her tears she made sure her eyes were locked with yours, her heart beating fast and her whole-body trembling.

“I love you.” Wanda said softly. “I’m still in love with you, and I just…”

“Can you hear yourself, Wanda? If you love me you wouldn’t have done…you would have come to me first! We would have talked about this, about us!” You exclaimed waving your arms around. “You wouldn’t have cheating on me just because you felt alone or misunderstood.”

“Y/N…” Wanda started but she cut off as soon as someone entered the balcony you two were in.

“Hey, baby, are you…Oh, sorry, I’ll be inside if you…” Carol interrupted glancing at you then at Wanda, before turning around and leaving.

Wanda clenched her jaw, turning to you eyes that flickered between red and green.

“So, you left two years and you have replaced me already?” Wanda asked bitterly, you snorted shaking your head.

“Nobody can replace you, Wanda. You will always be my first love.” You stated softly, your heart fluttering at the veracity of your words.

Wanda clenched her eyes close, you closed the distance between you and her standing right in front of her. Your eyes drifting for a moment to see the ring you wanted to give her on her left hand.

“Wanda I loved you with my whole heart, I thought you and I will be forever but after I saw you with Vision, I couldn’t take it.” You mumbled placing a hand on hers, Wanda shivered and she knew there was a finality in your tone.

When she imagined this meeting the outcome was different inside her head. She always thought you would come wanting to go back but not without some kind of request or penance so everything could back to normal. She never imagined the outcome of this would be for Wanda to experience the same broken heart you had experience two years ago.

“I didn’t want this to happen.” Wanda mumbled wrapping her arms around herself, you pressed you lips together stepping back a little. “I thought we…”

“Me too.” You replied.

Wanda was about to take the ring away, but you stopped her offering a bittersweet smile to her.

“I made it for you, so…it’s yours, Wanda.”

The other woman broke into a half smile, but she was looking just miserable, she caressed the ring and the tears fell down slowly.

“Are you…are you happy?” She finally asked, you scowled at that question.

“Are you?”

Wanda sighed looking away before nodding, “yeah, yeah I am.”

You pressed your lips together, lowering your eyes before looking at her.

“That’s good.”

The lie rolled out of her lips easily, and while it was quite evident you knew Wanda was lying neither one of you was about to say anything at all. Wanda put her arms around herself, she wanted to say something else, perhaps asked how long passed after you left for you to get together with Carol, or how exactly did you two ended up being a thing. But Wanda knew that wouldn’t help at all, if anything would make her bitter.

“I guess…you better go back, I…Carol must be waiting for you.” Wanda turned her back to you, her eyes to the city.

You stood behind her, your hand lifting to reach out to her.

For a brief moment, it seemed as if you were to look for her, perhaps to talk or say something, anything that might change your situation and hers. You thought the moment you went back to her, that perhaps the old flame would ignite and that you and Wanda could offer one another a second chance. You were afraid that perhaps what you felt for Carol was just…revenged, and just a sense to fill up a void left by the broken heart.

But it wasn’t like that.

And while a part of you would always love Wanda, she wasn’t the person you were in love with.

Carol was playing with her drink on corner far away from everyone else, she was looking gloomy while pursing her lips. You softened lightly, strolling directly towards her.

“Hey, Marv, why are you pouting?” You chuckled when she lifted her face towards you, her eyes going wide before she tried to play it off.

“I’m no pouting.”

“You certainly look like someone who is pouting.” You chuckled leaning in to peck her cheek.

“I’m no pouting, and what are you doing here? I thought you were still talking to Wanda…” Carol looked away trying to conceal her emotion, she didn’t want to look jealous or insecure, she was supposed to be stronger than this.

You leaned in wrapping your arms around her waist, “mm, I was but now I’m not and I think I want to go home, so…shall we leave?”

Carol narrowed her eyes at you, it took her a moment before she placed a hand on your cheek.

“Are you okay?” She asked, tilting your head slightly.

“I am.” You replied smiling softly.

“Did you two…clear things up?” Carol didn’t want to look eager, nor did she want to sound desperate. But she had always known the conversation with Wanda was something you needed to do.

It was a chapter of your life that was waiting to be closed.

“I did, we did.” You hesitated before continuing. “I realized that a part of me would always love Wanda, she was my first love.”

Carol nodded in understanding, her mind soon brought Maria to memory, and she could relate to what you were saying. She was observing you with care, your eyes gleaming lightly as they locked yours, and Carol felt her heart skipped a beat at the softness and love she found there.

“Then, I realized that you are the love of my life, Carol.” You said it so simply Carol felt her abdomen and her heart flutter, making her body tingle at the revelation. “I am in love you with you, and I can’t imagine anybody else I want to be with but you.”

You had heard before how many people stated Carol Danvers was a flat, unfeeling individual, that she was just too unemotional, and quite incapable of expressing emotion. You had discovered this was far from the truth, Carol was someone who felt too much and suffered in silence; she was just selective with the people she allowed in her life.

“I love you to, Y/N.” She mumbled just before closing the distance and kissing you softly.

“Mhm, I think we better go.” You said smiling goofily at her, “wait until we tell Kamala where we were.”

“Oh, no please, she is going to start arguing with us because we didn’t bring her over.”

“Don’t worry, I have it covered, I ask everyone for their signature.” You replied showing a small notebook you had stolen from Kamala’s room. “I think with this we are forgiven.”

“My hero.” Carol stated rolling her eyes, you winked at her before grabbing her hand and dragging her around the room to say goodbye.

Wanda watched from a distance as you and Carol said goodbye, your face never lost the brightness brough by your smile and your hand never left that of Carol who was following you with tenderness and love all around the room. The young witch knew she had messed up her chances with you, she knew the moment she saw you entered the Avenger’s Tower that what would happen that day would be a final conversation more than anything. Wanda felt her heart break to pieces, her eyes filling up with tears as she finally realized she was alone.

She had tried to cover her mistakes, and her emotions with a meaningless night of passion that had costed her happiness.

Now, as you entered the lift with a laughing Carol by your side, she realized that you had said goodbye to her a long time ago.

That day Wanda had broken your heart while hidden in the shadows.

[klausysworld]

Are request still open and if they are can you make a Klaus Mikaelson one shot the girl is Tyler Lockwood sister and she hates Klaus so she rejects him as her mate but at the end she accepts him so like fluff at the end

What are you doing to me?

Finding out your mated to the all powerful original hybrid who ruined your brothers like and forced him to become half vampire while also terrorising your childhood friends and what not isn’t exactly at the top of my bucket list.

Him being a willing participant when it came to the whole ‘soulmate’ arrangement was also not meant to be in the cards.

When I realised we were mates I was 99% sure he would immediately reject me as a mate. As strong as a soulmate makes you, it will also always be your greatest weakness. I would be able to kill him far easier than anyone else and I was certain he would want to kill me first.

So him leaving me expensive gifts was…unexpected to say the least.

Detailed drawings of wolves and the full moon in the sky with a poem hand written on the back had my heart fluttering in ways that I should not have enjoyed.

But he had destroyed my brothers and the people I consider my family’s lives.

And so, despite the utter agony I was inflicting on both him and myself, I rejected him as my mate.

It’s a rare thing for wolves to reject their one, the side affects are awful in a way to force your mind into reconsidering.

The crippling pain was emotionally tormenting and physically exhausting. After the initial rejection I was barely able to leave my bed, eat, drink, I barely spoke a word and each time I fell asleep I was haunted by a similar image of Klaus.

Damon had messaged me letting me know Klaus had been out of sight for nearly 3 weeks after.

The pain lingered, never truly gone but it had dimmed. Though a sharp pain would shoot through me when he was too close, when the bond knew I was purposely ignoring him, and i could always see him wince at the same time.

The few times I didn’t shove him away, well I felt much better. He brought peace to my wolfs inner battle between soulmate and family because in reality I knew that he was both. I was just too afraid to admit it fully.

Though I couldn’t help but occasionally step a tad bit closer to him, to feel the warm buzz that ran through my bloodstream.

He was a lot less subtle though.

Often, as soon as his wolf sensed mine approaching he was all over me. Hands would be rubbing up and down my arms, his lips on my neck in a desperate instinctual need to mark me. And what was worse was that my wolf was all the more compliant and for a few wonderful seconds I could indulge in the blissful sensations. My head back, hands firmly gripping his henley and moans leaving my lips, my wolf having the desire to present myself in a truly embarrassing fashion.

Though he would always push it a tad too far, a grope to my ass, his canines about to pierce my skin, and I would be pushing him away. My wolf panting as I nearly tripped over my own two feet to get away from him while ignoring the intense feeling of my heart being squeezed unpleasantly.

I always managed to just scrape past him.

Suffering alone in my room again at the recurring torture of rejecting a mate.

His continued flow of presents didn’t help either, only made me feel worse seeing effort put into paintings of me and my wolf. He hadn’t turned into a hybrid, not yet at least, he probably knew that would be my last straw and id maim him.

But I knew he had followed my wolf on the full moons, I always woke with brand new clothes beside me, lead on a cotton blanket with a pillow under head and the snapping of twigs in the distance as he walked away.

And even though I should have said absolutely not when he personally delivered an invitation to his family’s ball, with those stupid puppy dog eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to.

“Please love, just one dance and if you don’t like it…then I’ll leave you be and accept your decision” as soon as the words left his mouth, both our souls twisted in agony making my teeth grind.

“Fine, just one” I whispered and he nodded, pulling me into a quick hug to calm down both our pain. Which it did like water on a fire, entirely putting out the flames and leaving us calm and quiet.

And then the dress arrived at my door, with matching shoes and accessories and I realised I actually had to do this.

Walking into his house sent a chill down my spine, my body felt much warmer and my wolf was howling inside me.

A hand on my shoulder had me whimpering softly making an arm wrap around my waist and pull me aside to another room.

“Shh love, we don’t want the rest of the guests hearing such lovely sounds” klaus murmured into my ear and I pressed against him, a small moan leaving my lips.

“This is too much for you isn’t it my love?” He whispered, his hand tilting my head making me look up at him.

The entire house smelt like him, I had seen parts of it in the dreams of him when he was suffering from my rejection. Which now intensified my guilt, my emotions were running haywire. I was in his home; I was in the wolf’s den.

Without thinking my hands tugged at his blazer, pushing it down his arms before my fingers began to pull his shirt open

“Woah love, it’s alright” he muttered, his hands grabbed mine and before I could blink we were outside. The cold air cooled down my boiling skin as I panted and he stroked my hair away from my face

“There we go, it’s okay” he cooed, the back of his hand pressing against my forehead.

“I hate this stupid bond” I whispered, covering my face.

“I know love…we can have our dance another time, I’ll take you home” he uttered, his tone was sad and my heart ached again.

“Stop it” I whispered “please stop it”

“Stop what love? What’s wrong?”

“Make it stop fucking hurting! I rejected you weeks, months ago! Why does it still hurt!? What are you doing to me?” I whispered, tears filling my eyes and spilling over. I looked up at him to see him in a similar state though no tears had fallen from his eyes yet.

His hand moved to cup my face and I couldn’t help but lean into it.

“It will only stop hurting us when you truly reject me. Somewhere, inside you, you still haven’t truly given up on the idea. You either have to reject the bond once and for all or accept me” he explained softly

“I would’ve been able to reject you if you left me alone. You kept sending all those things and being so kind, you did this to me” I whimpered

“I wouldn’t have done that if I couldn’t feel your soul still reaching for mine” he uttered “I would never intentionally harm you”

I let out a quiet sob as my soul pleaded for his.

I leaned forward so my head could press against his chest, my eyes closing at the content feeling that rose in me. I could feel myself giving into the bond, our souls slowly binding together. His hand held the back of my head, I could hear his heart speeding up as mine mimicked it.

His other hand moved around my waist, pulling me to him. “Good girl” he whispered “you’ll feel so much better now” he reassured “I promise I’ll make it better now sweetheart”

He kissed my head softly, his hand rubbing my back “let the bond form my love” he encouraged.

I focused on the connection trying to relight the candle.

I could feel the second it happened, my knees growing too weak to stand making him chuckle quietly and wrap both arms around me. He lifted me so my face could be right infront of his, prompting me to lean forward and press our lips together.

Our souls entwined as we did so, endless amounts of passion poured into one act.

The silent appreciation that this was real and it was only just the beginning.

[drowninginblox]

Between a Rock and Moss Place

TW: Fighting in general, accusations of being suicidal, Zoro dealing with the actions of his consequences

"I will never understand you," I confessed while a numbness I knew too well branched up my arm. We've been at this for hours, painstakingly redressing his wounds while a thick silence entangled with tightly loomed thoughts. He ceased his struggle just a few minutes ago when he finally realized there was no way out of there until he was fully healed. "Join the club sister." He snickered under a sinister growl. I rolled my eyes. "You know, I've seen far scarier than you."

"I highly doubt that." He countered through a doubt-filled glance. But rather than give in to his curiosity, I continued in my work. He eventually noticed my lack of an explanation while I reached over for a new roll of bandages. It's been- god- not even a day? "And you're already itching for a fight," The thought slipped through a huff I thought was quiet enough. "Not a fight. I know my limits-" Again, he tried to defend his bruised pride from the slab but all I could do was fail in holding back my bitter laughter. Whether it be out of rage or fear, the bandages and scissors I held were slammed onto a nearby table. "Do you now? Was that before or after you got your ass handed to you what was his title again? Oh right, the strongest swordsman in the world, Zoro. Honestly." The moss head tried to get up, the searing pain that coursed through his chest kept him down though. "Y/n, It is my dream-"

"I know! To be the world's greatest swordsman! I know that Zoro. But, god damn it. You have to be alive to do it." A crass laugh swept through the heavy air. "Tell that to Gold Rodger," I glared daggers at him, getting up from my station to grab a bottle of alcohol spared for disinfecting. At least, that was what it was supposed to be for. Opening it was easier with all the rage. "Gold Redger's dream was to have a legacy. To be king of the pirates. You don't need to live long enough to see it happen. You just need to make an impression." With that, I dared to down whatever was in the bottle. Its rancid taste reminded me of nail polish remover and the smell made my eyes water as soon as it wafted through my nostrils. But that didn't stop me from dedicating myself. This conversation isn't something I planned on having, but Zoro can die. Especially not by biting off more than he can chew. Regardless of how big that stupid mouth can be. "So I haven't left an impression on you?" Speaking off.

Zoro's voice barely made it, but the ghost of his intention was obvious regardless of how quiet he meant to be. A tired sigh broke through my bitterness. "Zoro, I couldn't forget you even if I tried." He scoffs. His rebuttal slithered up his throat, bathing itself in something I hadn't heard out of him yet. At least, not directed at me. "Nice acting. You should go professional." I take another sip, this time staring into his eyes. Something was building behind them at the fact that I wouldn't share with him while he was in this state. I couldn't tell what it was though. He didn't give me enough time to properly ponder what it was before he turned over to stare out that small port window. "Are you done yet?"

When I made my way back to him, I leaned over his slab of bed just to see for myself if it was a struggle to look at me. I like to think it was. It looks like it was a battle to focus on those ever-changing waves. "That depends. Are you?" His eyes narrowed while his Adam's apple swallowed down what could only be assumed to be a bark for me to back off. "What put that stick up your ass y/n?" I bit the inside of my mouth at that. But that sweltering pain didn't stop you from banging a fist against his bed, making the damn thing almost capsize in the process. "What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"You! You asshat!" I didn't mean to shout as loud as I did. "Ever since you decided that you'd die to a master swordsman than to admit that you're not all you're chalked up to be!" The silence that followed was telling enough. I didn't need to see that stupid, blank face Zoro puts on when tensions are high. But he still bothered to egg me on. "What's that supposed to mean?" And he knew I always took the bait too. "You heard me, just before we picked up Sanji, you heard me talking to Luffy about what I think of y'all. And I was honest. Even after I realized that someone was eavesdropping on us, I was honest."

"Oi y/n! Why don't you join us when we dock this time?" It was dark. I like to think that I was reacquainting myself with the ship after years of only seeing it from my apartment and in my dreams of running around with Usopp when we were children. Knowing him, he probably knew this ship front to back. I didn't expect to see Luffy up this late. Considering his child-like demeanor, I'd thought that he'd comedically pass out at 8:30 on the berry like any other child. "Oh hey, Captain! After everything that happened over on 'Syrup? Consider it a no. 'Sides, someone has to watch the ship while y'all are dinkin' around. Rev the engines to ready our escape ykno?" I say, mimicking a motorcycle in the process. He keeps quiet, cocking his head to prove that he has no idea what I was talking about. "Eh, never mind. But seriously though, I'd rather stay here. Get some alone time from..." I didn't know what to call them yet. Crewmates would be the best answer but being official isn't Luffy's style. So what would've been good enough to call these guys? Not-

"Our friends? Why'd you want that?" Beat to the brunt. Even though Luffy didn't seem like the type to, he can rip the band-aid off pretty well without even knowing it. "Well, Luffy, it's nothing against you or them. I just, I don't see them as friends yet." Even in the dark, I could see him slouch at that disappointing truth bomb. "It's not that I don't like y'all. I just, don't know you that well." Luffy huffed like a child, making me smile. "Well, then why did you join the crew?" I sighed. Part of it was Ussop, Kaya and I knew too well he needed a grounder and Kaya was in no state to leave her home. Not even for him when her health was so poor. Another was Luffy. The genuineness, the optimism, it screamed like a bad idea but when he asked both Usopp and me, god damn it. But, if I were being really honest with myself, "Regardless of what everyone else says, Luffy, you're a really good judge of character. And you read me." He smiles slightly at that. "But, even though I don't what you see in me to offer up a place, I wanna make it worthwhile." I leaned up against the railing of the ship. "I never liked disappointing people. 'Especially not the ones who matter."

"How am I one?" I smiled. "You just... I don't know how to describe it other than... You're like raw hope Luffy. I haven't even known you a week and I can see that." I straightened slightly. "I've met and seen a lot of sailors and pirates, you're unlike any other I've experienced." I could feel his smile. Even in the cool darkness, the air seemed to warm with it. "Okay, but what about them? What do you think of the others?" I don't remember what was going through my mind initially but my immediate reaction was to sigh. "Okay, well, going off the top of my head... Usopp may be a coward and prophetic liar, but he's good. Like, good good. The type of good that everyone is born with but not everyone actively chooses to be. And yes, he does bad things. He's a liar," my right-hand grazes over the railing of The 'Merry, momentarily admiring the polish of the painted wood. "..but he always tries to do what's right. Even when he's scared out of his mind." I smiled. "He's one of the realist people I know." Luffy took after me and leaned against the rail, but rather than face the sea, he positioned himself to face the deck. But his eyes remain on me. "Now Nami, I want to know her. But I just don't. And you and I both know that she can be scary-" out of habit, Luffy tensed as if bracing for a blow to the head. "You don't need to tell me twice." I laughed for a moment before regaining myself. "I think she's hiding something Luffy. Granted, It's not my place to pry," He nodded in agreement. "but I'm worried for her. She seems strong on her own, but there's always strength in numbers y'know?" He shrugged, his posture returning to being loose. "Do you think she's made a deal with someone or something? Like a monster?" At that point I didn't think I knew what he was saying so I just laughed at it and went along with the joke. "Yeah. Totally sold her soul to the devil." I concluded intermixed with a chuckle. Luffy's gaze turned back to the door leading below deck for a few moments before he returned to me. "What about Zoro?"

I didn't mean to tense up when he asked. There wasn't a reason to, it was just Zoro after all. We were amicable both on and offshore. "I... I don't know what to say about him." I didn't notice Luffy was leaning over my shoulder until I could feel his cheek squished into mine. "What do you mean?" he whispered just before I shoved him away with a hearty laugh. "Look, I just... I don't know what to say okay?" Luffy steadies himself on the railing again before properly standing. "Do you think he's boring or something?" I will admit, I took some time to consider it. But that didn't change my answer. "Yeah? I think so. I mean, swords can only be so much of someone's personality though so I may be just missing something or-" Luffy's laughter interrupted me before I could properly explain myself. "Hey! C'mon, man!" From the corner of my eye, I could've sworn I saw a light. Not a lantern or anything, probably a candle with how dim it was, but just as soon I saw it, it was gone. It wasn't until Luffy called out for me to get to bed, that I noticed the door leading to the upper floor from the mast was slightly ajar. I didn't think about it much at the time but,

"But you keep on putting up this 'Master Swordsman' front but you aren't there!" I continued. The anger from before kept building and building from my feet to my chest. "Of course, I'm not!" Only grew hotter and harder to control with every acknowledgment I gave him. "Then why did you walk in front of one of the deadliest people in the world and tell him to make you into a pincushion?! What is wrong with you Zoro? Are you suicidal?" For some fucking reason, this time he managed to get up, using his elbows to prop himself up rather than relying on his core muscles. "Of course not!" My throat tightened just as I screamed the loudest I had ever been in my entire life. "Then what is it? Why are you so careless with your life?!"

"Because I have to be strong enough!" He screams, tears threatening to spill from his face. "Because I have to! I was the first person Luffy asked for, that makes me the first person he looks to! If I'm not strong enough for him, for this crew," He opened his mouth but closed it just as soon as he realized. Instead, he took the moment to breathe and level out his voice. "Y/n, I have to be strong enough to achieve both my dream, and to be the person Luffy can rely on when he achieves his." Through his defense, I realized just how emotional I got and whipped the tears I had away. "You wouldn't understand." He eventually concluded before he turned back to his damned window.

"No! Of course, I wouldn't understand. How could I? How could I- the "weakest bitch" on the crew, not understand about getting stronger? Rather, how could I understand the complexities around being relied on?" He turned back to me. "No, don't bother Zoro. Clearly, I wouldn't understand your constant and tedious struggle. Absolutely none of us can!" I declared while I motioned my arms above my head to the main deck above us. "y/n-" I don't bother to hear him out. I was on a roll anyway. "Not me, not Sanji, not Ussop, not Nami, no! None of us know the struggles of the master swordsman Roronora Zoro!"

Part 2

[ithebookhoarder]

A Whole Latte Love to Give 🍁 (Matt Murdock x Reader)

Description: You hate running late to work as it means you don't have time to stop for coffee - and what's worse, it's your favourite coffee season too.

A/N: It's Autumn and I'm a coffee addict so this felt right 😅 In fact, if anyone brings me coffee in the morning they are automatically my favourite for life 💕

Warnings: Swearing, references to smut, I think that's it.

Masterlist

You hated running late. 

It was frustrating and meant you had to sprint to make sure you made it to the subway on time to get across town to your office. You’d also then end up arriving with your hair all over the place, out of breath, and normally dripping with an uncomfortable amount of sweat. 

That alone would have been bad but when your boyfriend/boss had the super nose of a blood hound, it actually made you want to curl up into a ball and melt into the carpet. 

Needless to say, you were having one of those days today. The alarm hadn’t gone off and you had barely had enough time to put a comb through your hair, let alone grab some form of breakfast, or more importantly, coffee. 

You were embarrassed to admit how heavily you’d come to rely on the caffeinated beverage but honestly? It was all that kept you running most days. Besides, this was New York. People here were used to drinking it like it was water - which is to say you were struggling by the time you made it up the stairs to Nelson & Murdock. Worse still was the fact that you’d passed your favourite coffee shop on the corner as you’d sprinted to make it to your first meeting of the day. 

The bright fall leaves glued in the window were mocking you as they declared the arrival of the season and with it, their drinks menu - including your favourite drink of all time: a pumpkin spice latte.

Yeah, that particularly stung as you had to physically drag yourself away, knowing you didn’t have the time. Damn it. 

You’d have to wait til lunch to treat yourself and mark a start to your favourite season - a thought that had you grumbling to yourself as you finally made it up the stairs and to your office. 

Thankfully, it was quiet when you pushed the door open and managed to drop your bag at your desk. No clients were sat waiting for you, ready to berate you for clocking in a whole five minutes late, which was a huge relief. 

In fact, the only other person who appeared to be in the office at all was Matt - and even he seemed to have only just arrived, given the fact he hadn’t even taken off his coat yet. How strange. Normally he’d have been here a good twenty minutes or so already, having barely stopped long enough at his apartment for a quick power nap. 

Maybe he was also running late this morning?

“Morning, Matt,” you sighed, by way of greeting. “Sorry, my stupid phone didn’t charge last night so I missed my alarm. I only woke up because the asshole builders outside my place decided to start construction a whole hour earlier than normal, which is a pain but kinda saved my ass in the end. I mean, thanks to them I at least had time to brush my teeth but that was it if I was going to make the subway- Oh!“ 

You stopped. 

You stared down at your desk, surprised to see the steaming plastic cup sitting waiting for you. You were even more surprised to see your name scribbled on top, as well as your order printed on the side: a large Pumpkin Spice Latte. 

“Is this for me?” you blinked, turning your gaze across the room. “You got me coffee?” 

“I figured you wouldn’t have time,” Matt shrugged, in true Matt fashion. He always underplayed it whenever he did something for you. He never saw it as a big deal, whether it was taking a bullet for you or just grabbing your dry-cleaning. “You’re always in before I am unless you’re alarm fails to go off so… I grabbed you a coffee when I grabbed myself one. Don’t worry about it.” 

“But … you got my favourite? You remembered?” 

Matt laughed, holding his hand over his chest as he gasped in mock hurt. “Your surprise wounds me, sweetheart.” 

“Oh, hush. It takes more than that to hurt the big bad Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, Matty.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. You’re kind of my weak spot.” 

His admission tugged at your heart and it was hard to hide the resulting grin, especially when he followed the words by stealing a kiss and pulling you into his arms. 

This was always the best part of your morning routine, stealing a moment together before Foggy and Karen arrived. Just a perfect moment of peace, where nothing else existed other than the two of you. It was as if the world had stopped, just for a second, and there was no crazy crime bosses trying to kill you both, bills to pay, or clients in need of your help. 

You were simply two people in love, starting another day at work with a cup of coffee. 

“Have I told you today that you’re the best?” you hummed.

“Not today, I don’t think.” 

“Well then, I’m telling you now. You’re my hero - my coffee grabbing hero.” 

“At your service,” Matt chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But, you do know there’s an easier solution to this, right? One that would cut your commute in half and allow you ample time to get coffee in the morning?”

“Oh, what’s that? Super speed? Or are you going to show me how to parkour my way across rooftops?” 

“Actually… I was thinking you could move in with me?”

You stopped. 

Your head lifted so you could look him right in the eye. For a second you couldn’t tell if you’d misheard him or even just imagined it. “Are - are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he teased, his nerves showing as he waited for your answer. “Which is incidentally what you’ll have if you keep on drinking nothing but coffee all the time.” 

“You are such a hypocrite, Murdock-”

“So what? That a deal breaker?” 

“No,” you gasped, meaning every word. It was true. There was no force on earth that could drive you away from the man you were blessed to call your own. “I think, that actually sounds like a pretty good idea to me.”

“Wait, is that a yes?”

“Yes, Matt. It’s a yes.”  

It was about a week later that you finally made the move a reality. 

You spent the Saturday, assisted by a giddy Foggy and Karen, moving your boxes up the flights of stairs to Matt's apartment. They were only too eager to facilitate the pair of you finally moving in together (a fact proven by the fact you caught Foggy handing Karen a $50 bill. She had apparently bet you'd move in together before the end of the year).

"I had you down for six months ago," Foggy had grumbled, rolling his eyes at Karen's triumphant cheers. "Not my fault you two move at the pace of a glacier."

Still, you knew he was only joking. He was second only to Matt in his enthusiasm, helping move your worldly belongings about the apartment that was now also your home.

"I'm just going to run down and grab the last box from the van," you called, stepping out into the hallway and leaving the three of them to it.

However, you'd only made it a step when you heard someone calling your name.

"Y/N? Is that you?"

You turned and smiled at the kindly elderly woman who you knew to be Matt's closest neighbour. "Hi there, Mrs Manning."

You'd run into her a few times since you and Matt had started dating. She was a kind old soul who had been widowed sometime last year. Now, it was just her and her cat Tigger who resided in their apartment - and she had a real soft spot for your boyfriend.

"You doing ok?"

"Fine, thank you, dear," she smiled, gesturing to the few cardboard boxes still sat by the front door. "Those yours?"

"Uh, yes," you nodded awkwardly, sliding your hands into your pockets, “I’m actually moving in.”

"Well, finally. It was about time," she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Now I can have you both over for dinner. It'll be nice for me and for that darling boy in there to have some company. He always spends too much time alone. I swear, he is wasting away - never any meat on those bones of his."

"We'd love to come to dinner," Matt answered smoothly, opening the door and popping his head out with a stealth you still couldn't get used to. He must have heard you talking from the other side of the door. "And don't worry, Mrs Manning, we'll both take good care of each other."

"Good good - and don't worry, I'll have my music playing nice and loud for most of the night so make all the noise you need," she teased, winking cheekily at the pair of you before turning back towards her apartment.

You and Matt were left standing there, speechless.

"I'll see you lovebirds later."

[nevadancitizen]

-> RETIRED TRANSMASC GHOST

synopsis: a drabble about retired transmasc ghost and him discussing his top surgery plans with you.

word count: ~750

characters: transmasc! simon, gn! reader

trigger warnings: discussion of surgery, needles/testosterone injection, simon having breasts and top dysphoria

notes: wrote this because i'm six months on testosterone as of last friday 🎉🎉!!!!! (also note that this is not fetishization: i am a pre-op transmasc man)

simon’s lucky to have small enough breasts that they virtually disappeared when he enlisted. the drills and training were so harsh on his body that they looked more like pecs than breasts, so the feeling that he needed top surgery went away for the time being. 

but now, he’s nearing fifty, retired, still “in shape,” but not anywhere near where he was when he was part of the task force. his breasts are a bit more noticeable now, enough where he’d do a double-take in the mirror if he wasn’t wearing a binder or tape. the familiar feeling of top dysphoria came creeping back, as sniveling and pathetic as it is. (not that he felt pathetic for feeling it – he just felt as if it was a benign tumor that he’d be much happier without.)

you and simon had tackled this as a team, as you always did. you both did research about types of top surgeries, doctors, hospitals, recovery, the like. you had reassured him when you noticed any amount of hesitancy, (mostly about him being “too old” or not qualifying for surgery), calling him your “big man” and holding him tenderly, soothing your hand over the softness of his belly.

you took care of him in soft ways like that. you made sure he was comfortable, laying him down as you wiped an alcohol swab over his belly. your hands were careful as you pinched the fat of his stomach and injected his testosterone shot, soothing the injection site with a bandage and a kiss. 

“i can do that myself, y’know,” simon grumbles, but he does nothing to stop you.

“i know,” you say softly. you rub a thumb over the bandage, pushing down on it gently to calm any lingering pain – though usually, there was none. “just practicing taking care of you for when you’re recovering.”

“you take care of me just fine, lovie.” simon takes the syringe from your hands and caps the needle before putting it on the bedside table. then, he pulls you down so that you’re laying on his bare chest. he was shirtless and binderless – a true man in his true form. 

you hum and move so that your cheek is pressing against his chest, your hand resting on his sternum. you breathe in deeply, taking in the scent of the musk between his breasts. it was a heady and intoxicating smell, just like simon.

you trace the scars on his sternum – acne scars from when he first started testosterone. “hm… i’m gonna miss this,” you mumble.

simon’s hand comes up and pets the back of your head, messing with your hair. “miss what?” 

“this,” you say. “resting on your chest. hearing your heartbeat.”

simon huffs out a laugh. “the recovery is only two months.”

“two months too long,” you whine, then press a kiss to his chest, right over the darkest, dipping acne scar. “how am i gonna kiss you like this when you have all those bandages on you?”

“you’re just gonna have to wait,” simon chides, but you can hear a smile in his voice.

you sigh dramatically and nod. “you’re right. and i know it’s for the best. i’m just gonna miss loving on you like this, okay? even if it’s just for two months.”

simon just hums softly in response. his hand continues to play with your hair, combing the strands with his fingers. 

“mh… you gonna miss my chest?” he asks.

“i don’t think so,” you say. “it’s your choice, really. i’ll support you through everything, you know that.” you glance up at him with a teasing smile. “and i’ll finally get you to rest while you’re recovering instead of you busting your ass every day.”

simon rolls his eyes, but there’s still a smile on his scarred lips. “yeah, yeah. you sound like you’re looking forward to it, lovie.”

“maybe i am.” you bury your face in his chest again, pressing another kiss to his scarred skin. 

“don’t expect me to stay down for long,” simon says.

“i won’t,” you mumble. 

simon presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his hand drifting down to rub one of your shoulders. “i know.”

you sigh softly as you relax into his touch. you know it’ll be like this, now and forever. even after simon’s surgery and recovery, he’ll cradle you to his chest and exchange kiss for kiss like he is now, loving and soft and sweet. 

he’ll always be your boy. your lovely boy.

[akunya]

"a lending hand."

pairings: sonny brisko x m!reader

summary: oh no! im stuck and i cant get out and my big, sexy brother is home alone with me! whatever shall i do.. tw: INCEST, mindbreak, size difference, manipulation. NONCON/DUBCON, dacryphilia, RIMMING, degradation, dirty talk, feminization(?), etc. notes: this was a lovely commission from someone that requested more sonny-nii! i got a bit too into it and wrote way more than i was expecting. they gave me permission to share it with everyone, yay!

commission info is here , this fic is incredibly perverted so.. just a warning.

truly, honestly, from the bottom of your very heart — you didn’t mean to get stuck underneath the bed with your lower half sticking out like the most predictable homemade porno in history.

but, alas, you did.

you were stuck, and as embarrassing as it was to have another person see you like this, you needed help.

trying to reach for something underneath your bed was clearly the wrong choice. fingers stretching, eyebrows furrowed as you extended your arm as much as it could go. “..come.. on..!” you sighed in frustration, laying your head down and accepting your fate before the door creaked open.

“y/n? are you alright? i heard the bed creak—.”

sonny couldn’t finish his sentence, freezing at your doorway. “sonny! that’s you, isnt it?” his eyes raked over your poor, helpless little body. his breathing became ragged, licking his lips.

“oh.” was this.. a dream? his adorable little brother, the boy who invades his dreams every night, sprawled out and bent over for him? the blonde gulped, his body feeling warm. wearing those slutty little shorts you insisted on, you barely left anything to imagination for the poor man, the slim fabric showing a perfect outline of your ass. so innocent — so slutty.

clearing his throat, the eldest spoke up. “um, what happened, little bro..?” sonny tried to speak as innocently as he could. he started to move a bit closer, hovering over you eerily quiet.

you looked so small like this.. bent over on the floor, ass in the air. he knew that his stature compared to yours displayed a significant height difference, but this made his head spin. “i-i was stupid, tried to reach for something that fell behind my bed, but ended up stuck in this thing. i can’t seem to pull myself out, it’s too tight. do you think you could help?”

your room was met with an uncomfortable silence.

thoughts ran through sonnys head. “was this.. okay to do?” his inner consciousness fought relentlessly, eyes staring at the door then back at you. he shouldn’t— he couldn’t! you were his little brother, and sure, even if you were older now, that didn’t excuse him being a pervert! he should just help you out and excuse himself to his room like he always does, right? yknow, the right thing an older brother would do?

the breaking point, however, was when you had shimmied your hips, trying to find a position that was less painful on your knees. your shorts had angled themselves in a way that sonny had a full view of your dick, peeking through the fabric, small and innocent and inviting.

he needed to have you. now.

it felt like forever had passed, until you cleared your throat. “big bro? i asked if you could—“ your sentence was cut off by the harsh slap on your ass, emitting a surprised yelp from yourself as sonny sighed. yea, this was obviously the correct choice. the skin was already reddening from his rough hand, making you wince in discomfort.

“ive always wanted to do that.” his laugh was shaky, smiling to himself as his palm began to sting from the impact. his heart felt as if it would burst in his poor little chest, letting his other hand slap the other cheek. “ow!” you wailed this time, head bumping against the bottom of the mattress as you tried to instinctively get away. but you couldn’t — you were trapped in sonny’s grasp. sonny was strong. he had to be, given his line of work and title, but you never really learned the true extent of it until today. the officer couldn’t help himself, fingers grabbing onto the waistband of your shorts and pulling everything off, your bottom half exposed.

“god, look at you, little bro. your body is so perfect. we’re you waiting for this the entire time?” you stood silent, speechless at what was unfolding. even if you had shook your head ‘no’, sonny wouldn’t care, quickly giving into his own perverse desires. of course you did this on purpose — why wouldn’t you? it was too perfect of a moment not to be planned out beforehand. the slutty little outfit, your parents not being home until tomorrow, and sonny having the weekend off. how considerate of you, to think of your creepy older brother like this. your ass looked so inviting, the blondes mouth started to water. his intrusive thoughts won, shuffling closer until his mouth was mere centimeters away from your little hole.

“wait, s-sonny, you can’t!” you tried to squirm away, sonnys hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place; not that he needed much help, with the mattress sandwiching you. moaning, your toes curled in pleasure as your brother began making out with your asshole, groaning and huffing behind you. it felt beyond dirty, your sounds only spurring him further, tongue delving past the tight rim of muscle as he closed his eyes in pure bliss. it was every perverts dream, after all.

his skilled tongue slurped obscenely in your hole, your cock pitifully leaking tiny spurts of precum from how dirty this all was. it felt humiliating. having your ass eaten as a guy was one of the least things you’d expected to ever happen to you. sonnys face was flushed, eating as if he was a starved man, lips and chin glossy with spit. everytime the man pulled back, he just delved right back in, your resolve stripping away with every flick of his tongue. it was so sloppy, some of his saliva even dripped down your taint, a trail dripping onto the floor. the older man groaned, furiously pumping.. was that his cock? fucking into his hand, sonny gave one last smooch to your hole, pulling away with a sigh. your cock twitched, whining at the loss of touch as your hole fluttered around nothing. you were aching, core nearly on fire with how badly you needed him — someone, anything to fill you up, as shameful as it made you feel.

for better or for good, the blonde was impatient. smirking, sonny popped open a small bottle of lube, the click making your heart drop. was he..?

“b-big bro, this isn’t funny anymore, okay..? just help me out of here, please?” you spoke up, voice shaky without a single threat in them. i mean, what could you do? you were in sonnys hands now, and no one was coming to help you for hours, lower half exposed and ready for the claim. sonny hummed in response, a hand tenderly caressing your red skin, thumb cheekily slipping into your hole.

“of course ill help you out, y/n. i never said i wouldnt.” sighing in relief, you wiggled your ass, trying to squirm and get yourself out. unfortunately, in sonnys twisted mind, it looked as if you were teasing him even more. he took his thumb out of your ass, instead teasing the gaping hole with the tip of his cock. practically growling, his hand spanked the soft skin of your behind, shuffling to get even closer to you.

fucking slut. “..i didn’t say id let you out right now, though. be good for me, won’t you?” you didn’t even have time to process sonnys words before he slipped inside you, gripping your ass as he let out a loud moan.

“fuck, oh god..” the officer cursed under his breath, eyes closed from how blissful your walls were clenching around him. you sobbed softly, at least thankful that being stuck here meant sonny didn’t have to see how pathetic you looked — not like it would deter him from his goal or anything. “you’re so tight, i can — hah! barely move, fuck!”

the squelch of your lubed ass sucking his cock in made you cringe, sonny losing himself in the erotica of it all. taking off his shirt, he pulled out, granting you a moment of relief before he slammed back in again. “s-sonny!” you tried to get up again, hitting your head hard against the metal frame of the mattress, but sonny didn’t care. he couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn. you were so smaller so tight, so pliant in his hands. the blonde showed no mercy, pistoning into your poor body with little grunts of appreciation.

full. you felt so, so full. it wasn’t a surprise sonny had a big cock to match his big stature, but god, you swore you could feel him in your tummy as he abused your little hole. before you knew it, you were moaning now, desperate little whines of pleasure as sonny rammed in that spot that made you see stars for the first time in your life. “b-big bro.. slow.. nnh..!” sonny chuckled, spanking you again to add to the other countless times today, cock twitching inside of you. the wet plap of skin against skin did nothing to help your brain, slowly turning into mush with every stir of the blondes dick.

“you like this, don’t you, y/n? getting fucked like a girl? yea?” you whined loudly, the coil in your stomach only growing tighter and tighter because of sonnys filthy words. you were positive you wouldn’t be able to sit after this, from the way the older man fucked you as if he wanted to make your insides remember his shape. drooling, your legs were wide open, wanting more of the sickly pleasure he was drowning you in. “sonny, o-onii, i cant—!”

god, maybe sonny should’ve pulled you out from underneath this mattress. he licked his lips, so badly wanting to shove his tongue in your mouth, trap you in a mating press like you deserve. hissing from how tight you clenched around him, sonny extended his hand to squeeze your cock, relishing in the loud cry you let out. “come on then, little bro! i know you can do it. cum for me.” his voice dropped low, his pace unforgiving on your poor little body as you came with another yell, thick seed pooling below. seeing you cum all because of him was enough to send the pervert into his own frenzy, quickly cumming after you. his load spilled deep inside, sighing in relief as you groaned.

your body fucking ached, bruised and sore everywhere. you didn’t even have the strength to keep your knees up, only held by sonnys strong hands as he coo’ed at your pitiful state. don’t worry, little one — your big brother would take care of you all weekend long.

“ill let you out now, okay? then, we can go for round two.”

[dailyreverie]

Make this feel like home

A/N: What is it about Santiago Garcia that makes me think of the most domestic scenarios? jesus christ the way I made myself yearn with this one.... Anyway... hope y'all like it!

@flufftober - Day 7 Porch swing

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x reader

Word count: 723 words

CW: ...is domestic Santi a content warning?

Flufftober masterlist

You could watch Santiago setting up a swing all day. You had the perfect view of him from the living room, big arms and backwards cap, drill in one hand and a nail between his lips, all too distracting to focus on your reading. And sure, the view was great, but the thought of him being there, finally at home and not chasing people anymore, it wasn't just about the swing, but it was about the future you were building together.

It was Santi settling down, choosing himself over the life-threatening job that kept running him down to the ground; it was choosing you, who kept waiting years and years for him to get to your arms and start the rest of your lives together, and now that you had him there, you were sure you were never letting him go.

Hanging a swing could have been your idea, but Santi had been on board since the first minute, claiming the task of hanging in over your porch. An hour had passed since you last heard his frustrated grunt, and the only sound now was the soft rustling of leaves in the afternoon breeze. You couldn't help but wonder if Santiago had finished or if the chair had defeated him, sending him crashing to the ground.

Curiosity got the better of you and you headed outside only to be greeted by the sight of the perfectly hung swing overlooking your once-green backyard, now slowly turning a warm shade of yellow. Santiago sat on the swing, his head tilted back and his eyes closed. You knew he was awake when you noticed the gentle sway of his legs, rocking the hanging chair back and forth.

Without a word, you settled down beside him, the swing a perfect fit for just the two of you. Santiago's arm found its way around your waist effortlessly, and you snuggled closer, draping your legs across his lap.

“It looks great,” Your compliment came with a soft care of your fingertips against his tummy, pulling a quiet chuckle out of him.

“Good,” You heard the exhaustion in his voice, yet it was still accompanied by a smile. “It was a pain in the ass.”

 “I could hear that.” You joined his soft laughter, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Santi.”

“Nothing to thank, mi amor,” He assured you with a kiss against your temple, meeting your eyes for a brief moment of quiet smiles. The world outside your little balcony seemed to slow down, and all that mattered was this moment - the two of you, wrapped in each other's arms.

You stayed quiet for a moment. In those minutes you were sure Santi was falling in and out of sleep, the warmth of your body being the last thing he needed to be completely comfortable to do so.

The late afternoon sun began to turn your white porch golden and the air was getting colder by the second, but the gentle sway of the swing along with Santi’s warm arms, created a cocoon of comfort that was too inviting to walk away from. As you looked out over the yard you couldn't help but smile at the thought of this being your home: the garden, the sunset, Santi and your balcony. It was a scene straight out of your wildest dreams.

Santi's voice broke you out of your peaceful daydream, surprising you as he spoke of a gazebo. He pointed to a corner of the yard, his eyes filled with excitement. "Over there, a small gazebo with a fire pit, maybe with some fairy lights."

You couldn't help but tease him, given his earlier struggle with the swing. "You could barely hang a swing, baby."

"I could bring the guys to help!" Santiago's enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself leaning in to kiss his cheek once more.

“Then a gazebo it is.” His fingers poked your skin at the sound of your mocking tone, making you both laugh.

Santiago's eyes sparkled with anticipation. "I'll make it happen, and we’ll see who laughs then.”

You chuckled, knowing that Santiago's determination would see the project through. "I have no doubt about it, Santi."

As the day turned into evening, you both stayed on the swing, enjoying the gentle rocking motion and each other's company in your own little sanctuary.

✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂✨🍂

Thanks for reading! Pleasae reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

[nikkisheep]

You

Dean Winchester x female!reader

(Fever smut series Part One)

Warnings: smut, soft smut, fluffy smut, oral (f), pet names (sweetheart, baby), cursing, breast play

Summary: Dean wants to take his time with you this time since the last time he had you, it was fast and rough.

Tag List: @rachiem4-blog @suckitands33 @b1chcave @dead-thing200 @deansbbyxbyy @lanassmarty @buhlenciagas @samanddeansannoyingsis

Dean Winchester was a lustful man. A man who could make any girl melt with just a smile, flashing his pearly whites. And you, you were the one he came home to. You had his heart and his dick in your hands.

You were just reading a book that you found in the library of the bunker when Dean came strutting in with a lopsided grin on his handsome face. He was wearing his grey sweatpants and a black T-shirt that made you want to grab a hold of him and kiss every inch of his body.

"Sweetheart, are those the little shorts I bought for you?"

You looked up with a smile.

"Answer me baby," He said, making his way to you. When he reached you, he removed the book from your grasp.

"And what if they are? What are you going to do about it, Mr. Winchester?" You flash a smile up at him.

He leans down, bracing his hands on the armrests of the chair you are in, and whispers in your ear, "I would rip them off of your little ass and worship you like you should be."

A shiver ran down your spine at his husky voice and his promise. His lips found purchase on your neck and sucked gently.

"You would have to catch me first," You slip under his arms and away from his lips long enough to run to the hallway. He turned to you with a smirk and a warning smile.

"You little minx," He lunges at you, slipping slightly on the damp floor from when you came in after your shower.

Running to your shared bedroom, you lean again the wall as Dean walks into the room. He glances at the bed and then at you. He then walked up to you, pressing his body against yours, pushing it closer to the wall. He leaned in to capture your pink lips with his and they moved in sync as your hands started to explore each other. Every little touch felt like fire and electricity as you lifted a leg up over Dean's hip.

He groans in your mouth as his hands make it to your shirt. He pulls it up over your head and then latches onto your chest. He sucks, licks, and nibbles your plush breasts before taking a knife from his desk and cutting the middle of your bra.

"Dean!"

"I'll buy you a new one."

Your breast was surrounded by his warm mouth as he flicked his tongue over your bud. He bit it softly, causing you to hiss out in slight pain. He smirked at the moan that came out of your mouth. He guides you to the bed and lays you down softly. His kiss moves from your lips to your breasts again. His quick fingers unbutton your pants while you start pushing his sweats down.

Once the two of you were completely naked, Dean moved in between your legs, placing them over his shoulders. He blows hot air onto your clit, making you whine. His tongue peaks out and flicks the little nub, your hips bucking into the air. He places his arm on the bottom of your stomach so you wouldn't move and he then moved back to his ministrations on your heat.

His tongue felt like sin on your flesh as he worked you higher and higher. He looked up at you as his mouth did the work and all you could do was scream. It was music to his ears while you moaned his name. It was all you could think of anymore. Just him and his skillful mouth.

When your orgasm finally hit you, it felt like you were boneless. You were floating so high, you didn't realize that Dean had already moved on top of you, peppering kisses to your neck.

"You okay for another?" He asked, worried that he may have over done it.

"Dean if you don't make love to me right now, so help me I will do it myself."

You didn't say fuck, no you wanted him to go slow, to enjoy it. He took it as an okay and moved so he could position himself. He thrusted gently inside you, letting you get used to the stretch before you let him move. His thrusts were even and calculated.

"Fuck, baby you are doing so good for me."

He continued to praise you while he moved inside your cunt. He wanted you to feel every part of his body. He removed his shirt and your hands found his back. Your legs spread to allow him more room and he started to go a bit faster for you.

"Fuck, Dean," You gasp when his thumb found your clit again. He started to circle it while you threw your head back. Your wet pussy gripped him tightly as you chased your second climax of the night. Dean wanted to get you to cum one more time so he could.

Dean's head dipped to your neck, pressing warm kisses to the skin while he held himself up. His hands gripped the bedsheet, trying to keep going slow for you but it was getting to be too much.

"Just feel it, Dean. Feel me," You spoke into his ear. Your hands were in his hair, pulling him to your lips as he bucked into you. Sweat rolled down the plane of your bodies when Dean's lips found yours. He licked into your mouth before coming up for air.

"Fuck," You moan as you cum around him. A white substance made a ring around the base of Dean's dick. At the sight of this, Dean's entire body shook while his orgasm washed over him. You reached for his hand and he pressed it to the mattress, squeezing slightly as he tried to hold his tired body above yours.

"That was good," He said when he cleaned you up.

"It felt good."

"Three times? That's all I could get from you?"

"Dean, that wasn't about how many times you could make me cum. It was about us feeling each other."

"I just don't want you to be unsatisfied," He placed a kiss to your forehead.

"Baby, with you, you never have to worry about me being unsatisfied."

[ka0ila]

sex tape

pairing - hyunjin x fem!reader

genre - smut

warning - degradation

"fuck" she moaned as i inserted my second finger inside her. I looked in her dark brown eyes. I was moving my fingers inside her just the way she liked it, by her tightness, i knew she was a virgin. She was squirming under me and i fucking loved it. I loved how i was controlling the amount of pleasure she was receiving. She was flushed, her face looked adorable and sexy at the same time. Her black hair strands on her face, her mouth wide open, Moaning my name everytime i hit her spot, her arched back, her shivering body, i loved it.

"i'm gonna cum" she said with teary eyes and barely audible. I stopped moving my finger, "beg for it" i said with a cold rough tone with my two fingers still inside her, stretching her out. She looked flustered, i was definitely her first. "please" she said whining, "please, what? what do you want me to do?" i said looking at her, she failed to maintain an eye contact. She threw her head back, shut her eyes, and begged,

"Please sir, pump your long fingers inside me, hit my spot over and over again, finger me like it's the end of the fucking world, just please let me cum, fuck"

she said and let out a loud moan when i suddenly started moving my fingers in a fastened pace with letting her complete and inserted my third finger.

'sir' definitely caught me off gaurd. Soon, she came all over my three fingers, i made her look at the mess she made and the condition of my room's bedsheet. I inserted my fingers inside her mouth and made her taste herself. I started moving my fingers in and out, the sound of the gags, oh how much i loved them. She looked at me those teary eyes, gagging on my fingers. Oh, how much it turned me on.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" i asked her looking deep in her eyes, with that she kissed me again, with lust.

was i her first? will she be able to handle me? my posessivness? all these thoughts muffled as i started losing control. i flipped her over, she groaned as i slapped her ass cheek, everything was happening so fast. i was about to grab a condom when she said "i'm on birth control".

"oh?" i smirked. I pulled down her soaked panties, and started unbuckling my belt. "such a whore, such a whore for me, say it" she was flustered.

"i'm your whore, only yours." "yeah that's right, you're my fucking whore, mine" i aligned myself infront of her entrance, i started rubbing it with the tip of my cock. i heard her whine, oh how much i loved her crying and whining. "are you sure?" i asked her as i huffed.

"yes, yes, yes sir, please sir, just enter" she said in adrenaline. i chuckled and started submerging myself inside of her tight little hole, my hole to ruin. i heard her groan in pain,

"hyunjin!" she screamed i couldn't be rough on her just yet, even if i wanted to ruin her and see her cry while taking in my cock, begging for me stop, pass out of pleasure, scream my name like there's no tomorrow, i couldn't.

i gave her time to adjust, pumping slowly in and out, she was crying, "you're huge!" she cried, i chuckled. "speed up, please sir" she whimpered, "anything for my little slut" i said. I started pulling in and out of her dripping glistening pussy, what a sight to see.

"can i take a picture of you baby?" i asked her while fucking her senseless. "only if i can-- oh hyunjin fuck" i cut her off by increasing my pace. i pick up my phone and started reacording, our little sex tape.

"look at how wet you're slut, my dick slipped in so easy huh? you like that dont you, say it fucking say it" i said while slapping her ass, "i love it sir, i love it so fucking much-- ah"

"mmh- fuck." she cried as i fastened my pace, i just couldn't hold back, i couldn't, her cunt was just so addictive.

"fucking cunt, wants me to go faster and then fucking cries, such a fucking loser" she clenched around me,

"oh? you love degradation? don't you? such a fucking slut, my slut" i said fastening my pace,

i was losing it, the way she clenched around me, it was fucking me up, it was making me lose my mind, it was just so fucking addictive, i couldn't hold back, i just couldn't.

"i'm gonna cum" "not now" "please" "shut the fuck up slut, you cum when you're told" "pleas-" i slapped her ass cheek before she could complete her sentence. she was a whimpering mess, crying, begging, begging for me to allow her cum, oh how much i loved it.

"i said, not now"

she was sobbing, wanting to cum, oh my poor baby, not so easy. I took out my phone to record her cum, her eyes rolled back, she was flushed, back arched, taking my dick, following my commands, feeding my ego, oh what a sight to see,

"cum."