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certaimromance · 2 months

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𝜗𝜚 A Heart Matter.

Spencer Reid x Prentiss!reader

Series masterlist | ONE | TWO | THREE |

Summary: A few months after you left, Spencer thinks he sees you walking down the street, and his whole world is turned upside down.

Words: 3,2k.

TW: mentions of crime, trauma, death, pain and violence (normal warnings in the series). so much spoilers for s6 and s7. the events narrated occur after emily's "death". so much angst. read the dates carefully, especially the years, because there are some backward time frames that can confuse you if you don't pay attention!. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I'm so sorry, that's all I can say now.

Also, I thought about making this a series, but I'm not sure because I've never done one before and I've really only been writing here for about a month??? I'm trying hard.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

July 18th, 2011

The steady ticking of the wall clock echoed in Spencer's head as a reminder that his time in the session was ticking away, robbing him of the chance to express himself without sounding like a complete lunatic.

“I saw her.” He had to repeat it aloud after receiving a puzzled look from his therapist.

The woman pursed her lips. “In a dream? Are you having nightmares again?”

The lump in the agent's throat felt tighter and more suffocating, causing him to shift in his seat to hide it. He wanted to appear sane and focused, however much his next words were anything but.

“No.”

The therapist's intrigued look and the fact that she stopped writing in her notebook to give him her full attention made his hands tremble and his heart pound as he spoke again.

“I mean, I still have the same nightmares...but this, this is different.” Reid tried to explain hesitantly.

Since the day he found you lying in a pool of blood outside your sister's apartment, his mind had been tormented by the image and the guilt it caused him. The nightmares of seeing you again and losing you were a constant every night. Every time he managed to fall asleep, he woke up agitated, feeling again the emptiness of not having you by his side. And that was something his therapist knew better than anyone, because she forced him to write down every nightmare and tell her all of them.

Those bad dreams were supposed to be over, or so he had claimed for the past three weeks.

“How?”

“I wasn't asleep when I saw her.” Spencer finally blurted out in a slightly shaky voice. He had rehearsed the same conversation several times and always ended up feeling like a deranged man seeing ghosts. “I was on the street.”

That sentence instantly changed the tone of the conversation.

“It was after work, I went to buy some food because the case ended earlier than I thought. Her favorite Chinese restaurant is a few blocks from my apartment, we really liked to eat there...I bought some and when I came out, I saw her.” He paused for a minute, trying to mentally return to the moment that was relentlessly replaying in his mind. “She was across the street, buying flowers.”

He had to be quiet for a second, pausing to calm his own breathing. It was ridiculous, but the thought of you buying flowers again made him smile slightly.

You had always loved flowers and now he was supposed to bring them to your grave.

“I ran across the street as soon as I saw her, but I lost sight of her when a bus came across.” He said, struggling to finish his story.

“Spencer, listen to me.” The woman's tone alone let him know that she didn't agree with him at all. “It's normal to think we see someone we lost, it happens to several people. Maybe it was just someone who looked like her, and being near a place the two of you frequented contributed to the confusion.”

That was impossible because he would recognize you anywhere and there was no one else like you.

“You know the truth.”

Of course he knew.

He had been trying to live for six months knowing that you were already dead.

Six months of him trying to deal with your ghost. Six months of him on his knees begging for this to be just another nightmare. Six months of reliving the last time he held you in his arms. Six months of being dead in life.

“Yes, but she looked different.” He explained, receiving a puzzled look that prompted him to provide further clarification. “Her hair was shorter, much shorter. And if I were hallucinating her ghost, I'd see her the same way I saw her the last time, or maybe the time before that. It wouldn't be so different from the way I remember her.”

“You lost two important people on the same day, it's not about logic.”

From her reaction when he concluded his session, it was evident that she considered his perspective to be irrational and clouded by the effects of grief.

And maybe it was.

July 30th, 2011

A few days of missing therapies and locking himself up at work already had consequences.

It was the second time a case had ended earlier than expected and Spencer had to go back to his lonely apartment and find excuses to leave without feeling sorry for himself. It was hard for him to be in his own home without you, surrounded by the photos you always insisted on taking and framing to preserve moments that were now torture. So the best solution was to make unnecessary purchases or lock himself in the nearest library.

Anything was better than being locked in a room with himself, so he decided to read in a room full of strangers who provided the company he so desperately needed.

The bad news was that the library's closing time had come earlier than expected for unknown reasons, and life seemed to force him to face his reality on the busy streets of Virginia, taking every possible alternate route to delay his arrival home. He didn't want to have to open the door knowing that no one would be waiting for him, that you wouldn't be there asleep on the couch after watching a marathon of your favorite movies, or just trying to read one of his books so you could discuss it with him.

His mind was still hazy and his eyes were wandering through the shops of the city when a familiar and unmistakable figure appeared before his eyes, just a few meters away, coming out of one of the shops on the next street.

It was you again. Unmistakably you.

He started running without a second thought, but the streets were so crowded that it was hard for him to move through the mass of people. His heartbeat was out of control and probably everyone could hear him, but he didn't care about looking crazy, he just needed to get a little closer to talk and make sure it was you.

The city's public transportation seemed to be against him, because just as he was about to cross the street, not caring that the light was red, another bus crossed the street and almost ran him over. Just a few inches and the story would have been very different for him. Everyone on the street was whispering, car horns were honking and every now and then someone would ask him if he was okay or look at him like he was a psychiatric patient. But nothing mattered to him, there was only your image in his mind and the possibility of finding out if he was really going crazy or if your ghost was haunting him.

When he managed to cross the street, there was no sign of you, and his therapist's words echoed in his mind as a symbol of temporary insanity brought on by pain. Try as he might to ignore his conscience, there was no way to find you in the sea of people, and he had no choice but to enter the store where he thought he saw you coming out.

“A woman bought something here a few minutes ago, she had a bag slung over her shoulder.” Spencer spoke quickly as soon as he walked in and approached the local salesman. He paused only when the man nodded in confusion at his attitude. “Do you know her name? Where she's from? Does she come here often?”

The man's lips were sealed, he just waved his hand to let him know he would only talk for money. He didn't even flinch when Reid pulled out his badge and repeated that he was FBI. Anyway, the thirty dollars was the master key to get the information and the security camera footage, which was barely visible because of the poor quality.

“I don't know who she is, it's the first time I've seen her. There aren't many customers on my shift, and not everyone buys that many books.” He began to speak under Spencer's curious gaze. “She paid cash and bought a bunch of classics. And she had a limp.”

“Are you sure? Which leg was it?”

There was a short silence, which the salesman used to remind himself, and Spencer's nerves got even more out of control.

“I don't remember which leg it was but I was definitely limping. I noticed that when she climbed the ladder, I had to help her.”

January 11th, 2010

“Can we eat here?” You asked after reading the sign that said the restaurant's elevator was under repair. “There are a few tables.”

Spencer couldn't help but frown and let go of your hand to stand in front of you. His eyes searched for yours. “I thought you wanted to come up, the view is your favorite thing here.”

You two were at your favorite restaurant, a Chinese food paradise with the best view in city, according to your expert opinion. It wasn't the first time the two of you had been there, so you had already more than booked a table, and this one was on the third floor. Your favorite part of going there was seeing the moon.

And of course, Dr. Reid was the kind of guy who always paid attention to the little details. He remembered everything, and could probably tell what you were thinking just by looking into your eyes for a few seconds.

“Let me take you upstairs, please.”

His puppy-dog eyes and a single phrase were enough to get you to let him take you by the arm and lead you up the stairs at a slow pace. By the time you got to the second floor, he offered to carry you like a princess. You had no choice but to accept, especially since it had already taken you more than ten minutes to climb a single floor. The pitying looks from the other diners were starting to make you uncomfortable.

“Thank you, Spencer.” You mumbled as you reached the table and he pulled up a chair for you.

He smiled. He loved how you said his name and wanted to hear it for hours.

After you both sat down and made your requests, you spoke again. “Aren't you going to ask why I can't climb a ladder?”

“I won't ask you anything you don't want to answer.” He said simply.

You felt like you could tell him anything, even your darkest thoughts. Your sister had already talked about it. Either it was the Reid effect, or you were just madly in love with him. Both were quite similar in your view.

“I hurt myself while I was practicing ballet. I made a really bad move.” You spoke up after a few minutes of silence. He frowned when he heard you. He had no idea you played the sport. “I was supposed to have quit, so I didn't tell anyone. Only Emily knew. I didn't treat it until the injury got worse when I went out in the field on a case. That's how I retired from the FBI. My mom freaked out, and my left ankle was screwed up for my whole life.”

Before you turned your attention back to Spencer, you prepared yourself mentally for the sympathy he would undoubtedly show. The curious thing was that in his eyes, there was nothing but interest and gratitude for having allowed him to know more about you. That was what kept you talking.

“There's an operation to try to fix it, but recovery takes quite some time. I'd rather always take the elevator and avoid the stairs as much as possible than have to rely on Emily to take care of me for three whole months. She has work to do and would go crazy having to be my maid.”

“I would.” He said without hesitation. When you looked curious, he elaborated. “I'd take care of you.”

“For three whole months?” You asked, sounding rather incredulous and as if you thought maybe he was just being extra nice.

“For the rest of my life, if you let me.”

September 5th, 2011

“There's no way you could have seen her, Spence.”

JJ's eyes fell on his friend's not-so-shaky ones, and a part of her churned inside, not knowing what else to say to him. It was eleven o'clock at night, the first time in several days that Spencer had shown up at her house to try to find comfort and perhaps understanding.

“I know, I know it shouldn't be possible.” He replied and went back to pacing the room, trying not to make a sound. The last thing he wanted was to wake up his godson or his friend's husband. “But it was so real...maybe I'm crazy.”

“You're not.” She said firmly, getting up from her seat to give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

At the time, even he didn't know for sure, and that made him fear that he had lost his mind. He was hungry for a love that he would never have again.

“You just miss her.”

No, missing was nothing compared to his feelings.

“It's more than that, much more. I haven't been able to catch my breath since she left.” He admitted, running his hands through his hair as tears formed. “I miss Emily, too, and I don't see her walking down the street.”

Silence fell over the room because no one had anything to say. There weren't enough words to describe the situation. The only sound that could be heard was the man's sobbing on Jennifer's shoulder, trying to be encouraged with words.

“It's going to be all right, Spence.”

He didn't say it out loud, but he thought he'd never get anything right in his life if all he wanted was you.

March 14th, 2010

The coffee he was carrying kept him warm as he made his way through the chilly FBI offices. Spencer wondered if the air conditioning had broken down when he reached the technical analyst's office and a conversation stopped him in his tracks.

“My take? She looks like she'll be Mrs. Reid one day.” Penelope's voice was heard after several loose sentences that the boy couldn't understand from the other side of the door. He figured they were talking about him and his relationship with you.

“I hadn't thought about Reid being legally part of my family until now.” Emily spoke next, letting out a few chuckles. “I'm going to have mini geniuses for nephews.”

“Stop it, we're just dating.” You spoke with some nervousness, still reeling from the implications. “It's not like we're getting married tomorrow.”

As he leaned against the wall by the door to hear better, Spencer couldn't help but feel a bit guilty about what he was doing. He knew it wasn't right to overhear other people's conversations, especially if they were about him. But he had a feeling he needed to know what you were saying about him when he wasn't around. It wouldn't hurt to just hear a little bit.

“Don't pretend you don't talk about future names for your babies, I heard you two.” Garcia spoke again.

“It was a random conversation.”

“About baby names?” She gave a little smile and raised an eyebrow.

“What I mean is that bringing things forward is not good.” You began to speak, completely ignoring the previous point. You were trying to be the voice of reason in the midst of their ridicule. “But I'd like him to be the one.”

“I think I'll shed a tear or two because you've grown up so fast.” Your sister commented in a teasing tone that hid quite a bit of truth. She gave your hand a quick squeeze and looked at you for a few seconds before speaking again. “What's up with that look on your face?”

You frowned. Spencer's heart seemed to stop beating for a moment. “What look?”

“You know which one I mean—the one you put on when the coffee runs out.”

Reid's hands began to sweat. He felt like a teenager trying to figure out what the girl he liked really thought of him. Did you ever have doubts about your relationship? Did you ever picture yourself with him in the future? Was he really the one for you?

“The scariest thing about love is getting hurt.” You said, trying to initiate the idea. Unfortunately, Penelope beat you to it and spoke up.

“I'm sure he wouldn't hurt you.”

“I know, I don't care about that.” You spoke up again after a few seconds, looking around the room as if lost in thought. “What if I do it? What if I break his heart?”

Oh, that was certainly not something Spencer was expecting to hear.

“How would you break his heart? Not answering his calls for five minutes and seven seconds?” Interjected Emily with a teasing tone to try to lighten the mood and get a smile out of you. “I don't think either of you would consciously hurt the other.”

And right after that, the protagonist of the discussion entered the room, causing the three of you to remain silent and pretend that nothing was going on. You could only smile when your boyfriend came in with a hot coffee for you and you saw the tender looks the two women gave you.

“Thank you.” You said.

“It's nothing.” He replied, pulling you close to surprise you with a hug that brought him close enough to your ear to whisper. “You could never break my heart.”

September 21st, 2011

Ian Doyle was only a couple of meters away.

Spencer's fist throbbed and burned, still stained with the blood of the man who had taken everything from him seven months ago. He knew he had done wrong, that he had promised everyone that he would only talk to the terrorist, and that he had done much more than that. The team had barely been able to get him out of the interrogation room because he was out of control with rage.

He wanted to make him feel a lot of pain and a minimum of what you and Emily probably felt that night.

“You need to calm down.” JJ came out of the meeting room to stop him before he could go in.

“I'm calm.” He replied, still trying to regulate his breathing. He could see his friend raise an eyebrow, and he decided to speak up again to avoid upsetting her. “This is about as calm as I can get right now.”

As soon as he was done speaking, Reid tried to keep going to the room, but the woman was in his way again and stopped him from opening the door.

“You have to be calm for what Hotch has to tell you. I mean it.” Jennifer said, after receiving a confused look. “What you're going to see now...”

“I'll be fine.”

Without giving her a chance to say anything else, he opened the door to the room. Spencer thought he'd find photos of the crime scene that ruined his life, maybe some testimony he didn't know about, or even the killer there. But none of that was true, and it made his heart stop.

“Hi.”

You certainly broke his heart this time.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #matthew gray gubler #certaimromance<3

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everythingisromant1c · 2 months

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It's Always Been You - Chapter 8

james potter x fem!reader

summary - With James having acted so strangely the night before, you couldn't stop worrying about him. So you decided to go talk with him, even if he was set on being alone. Luckily for you, you knew just where to find him. After all, he was your best friend.

wc [3.4k]

all chapters | <- Chapter 7 - Chapter 9 ->

The next morning, you sat with Marlene and Lily for breakfast, deciding you needed a break from the boys and all their sudden weird behavior. Your plan to escape them didn't seem to work very much though, since after only a few minutes Sirius was taking the seat next to you.

Marlene glared at him from across the table, recalling all that you'd told them about his interrogation over Sebastian to you last night.

"Lovely to see you too, McKinnon," he greeted sourly before turning to you. "Have you seen James?"

You frowned. "No, I thought he was with you guys."

"Well he's not. He's not in the dorm either. None of us have seen him since last night when he was in his weird mood."

You recounted how quiet he was the last time you saw him, hardly stopping to say goodnight before hurrying off to the dorms. You lowered your voice to a hushed whisper. "Have you checked the map?"

"Not yet," Sirius said back.

You thought for a moment, and an idea came to mind that told you the map wouldn't be needed. "I have a feeling I know where he is."

Without another word, you gathered up your things, and maybe a pastry or two, and took your leave out of the Great Hall. A confused-looking Sirius watched you all the while, but you felt as if you needed a moment alone with James anyway. Especially after seeing him look so closed off the night before.

It took a few minutes to make it all the way across the castle, but soon enough you'd made it down to the locker rooms next to the Quidditch pitch, somewhere you knew James frequented when he spent some time alone.

The hall was mostly empty, which you blamed on the fact that breakfast had only just been served, though you managed to catch one boy on his way out of the locker room.

"Hi," you greeted, and the boy stopped in his tracks to peer curiously at you, who clearly did not play Quidditch. "Do you know if anyone's in there?" You motioned towards the locker room behind him.

He followed your eyeline and, after a beat, turned back to you with the ghost of a smile creeping onto his features. "Looking for Potter?" he asked, his tone somewhat amused. You nodded, hiding your confusion.

"Yeah," he then added, tilting his head towards the door in front of you. "He's in there."

You gratefully smiled at him and mouthed a 'thank-you,' striding towards the locker room.

"James?" you called softly as you opened the door, all too aware that technically you weren't supposed to be in the boys' locker room, but figuring it would be empty besides James anyway. To your suspicions, you were right and there was no sight of anyone. That was, until you turned the corner and saw the boy you'd been searching for.

James was standing in front of his open locker, though he'd disregarded it the moment you'd stumbled upon him after what looked like his post-practice locker room state. That is—shirtless. Very shirtless, and practically glowing underneath the sweat from whatever Quidditch skills he'd been drilling.

"Oh, um," you began messily, eyes widening and trying their best not to so obviously take in any area beside his face, but the gleam of his bare and sun-kissed chest was certainly not making it easy. "I can come back-"

"No," James cut in, and the timbre of his voice echoing in the empty locker room had you pausing. "Stay."

You nodded, his voice soft but strong enough that you found yourself standing there, unmoving. He'd clearly not been expecting any visitors, especially not you of all people, to show up in the locker rooms. But if he knew you at all, and he did, he should've known you'd always find him even when he didn't exactly want to be found.

That fact and the unwelcome wandering of your eyes over his chest and abdomen, as if he wasn't staring straight at you watching you do it, had you feeling slightly guilty. You cursed yourself the moment you realized what you were doing, trying to salvage yourself as much as you could.

You cleared your throat. "You weren't at breakfast," you said after you remembered why you'd come to find him in the first place. Your throat felt tight, the spacious and brightly-lit room suddenly feeling cramped.

"I wasn't that hungry," James said simply, and if he felt at all off-put by his shirtlessness and your obvious fit of staring he didn't show it.

"You need to fuel your body if you're gonna be playing Quidditch all the time, James," you chided.

He shook his head at you, eyes maybe a little warm but probably slightly annoyed. "You sound like my mum."

You breathed in your laugh at the warm memories of his mother from every summer you spent with him. "I'll take that as the highest of compliments then, J."

You swore you saw his lips quirk up at the nickname at the end of your warm sentiment. Maybe he was thinking of your summers together then, too, or maybe he was still questioning why the hell you'd chased him into the locker room. A silence passed over you both for a moment. You were still standing by the door, him at his locker some feet away, wordless.

"But seriously," you continued, taking an intentional step closer to him as you spoke. "You okay?"

James's eyes lifted from where they'd been settled off somewhere in the distance, meeting your own for only a split second. "You really love asking me that question."

You tilted your head at him, knowing he was only being avoidant. "James."

His expression revealed little to nothing, and it was like he refused to meet your gaze from that point on. "I'm fine." Following through with his dismissiveness, James turned away from you then, his front to his open locker and his back, his very bare back, to you. He began putting away his things, the muscles visible to your eyes churning with each action. You ignored that on top of his aversion.

"Are you sure?" you asked. "Because I know that last night you didn't exactly seem 'fine' and all, or, I don't know, you seemed upset," you fumbled to voice. "And then I talked with Remus and he kind of mentioned that you might be upset because of me and-"

"He did?" You could see him tense as his words broke your rambling. Either you'd begun to melt his sudden cold exterior or you'd frozen it even further.

"Yeah, he did." You spoke slowly, words cautious. "Whatever it is, you can talk to me about it, I promise." You paused there, giving him an opening to respond, but he didn't. He didn't even turn your way, his back still to you as he began organizing whatever he had in his locker. Your worrying kept your mouth running. "And if I did something to upset you, then- "

"You didn't." James finally turned around, shifting your view of him from his back to his front, and you could see in his eyes that he was holding something back. He looked uncharacteristically shy, his voice coming out softly but withdrawn. "You didn't do anything to upset me."

"That's good to hear," you said, even if you didn't truly believe it. "But you're clearly upset about something. I mean, you're out playing Quidditch before half the school's even woken up."

He shrugged his bare shoulders. "I do that all the time."

"Without telling any of the boys?" you questioned. "Sirius didn't even know where you were. We were gonna use the map."

James stared at you silently for a second, as if he was considering something up in that brain of his, but he stopped the action with a slight shake of his head and another shrug. "Look, I don't know what you want from me." His tone was growing more irritated with every word you pulled from him, and it was starting to not only annoy you but hurt you.

"I just want you to tell me what you're upset about-"

"I'm not upset, alright?" He practically cut you off, shutting his locker door with a jarring echo, but the sound was less alarming than the flinch you noticed in James's face. You shifted your gaze downward. Maybe you'd been too distracted by his reserved front or his unexpected shirtlessness to notice the bandages on his wrist.

Your brows pulled. "What's wrong with your wrist?"

James's eyes darted to yours at the question, and then down at his wrapped wrist as if he'd forgotten all about it. Knowing James and his unruly way of living, you reckoned he probably had. "It's nothing." He threw the shirt he'd most likely recently taken off over his shoulder, apparently ready to ignore your prying all over again.

You stared him down disbelievingly. "James."

He paused his endless movement to offer you a better answer with a sigh. "It started bothering me a few days ago during practice." When you continued frowning down at the injury, he added, "It's no big deal. I hardly notice it."

"You just flinched." You narrowed your gaze. "Now stop being all mysterious and let me at least look."

Giving in to your doting, James took a seat beside you on the wooden locker room bench, his legs facing the opposite side of yours. The skin of his shoulder brushed against your own, which you ignored.

Ever-so-carefully, you picked up James's hand and laid his wrist in your palm. His skin was surprisingly soft, something that contrasted the material of whatever bandage he'd used to cover his injury that'd clearly been chafing angrily against his skin. You eyed the messy bandage work and suppressed any urges to scold him, figuring he was already sitting here against his will.

You glanced up at him from where you sat, only a few inches between the two of you, and looked at him for approval to do more. His eyes searched yours for a beat, maybe in question, and then he nodded.

Steadily, you used your other hand to begin unwrapping the greying gauze, focused on the sound of your own tight breathing and the steadiness of your hands working the bandages. They'd definitely needed rewrapping if not just being thrown out and replaced altogether.

The silence in the empty locker room was distracting you, or maybe it was the fact that James sat so silently next to you, watching your every move. In your peripheral, you could see the hard plain of his chest rising and falling as you worked on his wrist. You chased the view away, lowering your head more until all you could see was your hands and his.

It took another moment to fully unwrap his wrist, your perturbation only heightening each time a new inch of bruising skin was revealed. You held the uncovered limb in your hands, frowning and fighting back a gasp at how not-fine the injury seemed.

"Merlin," you whispered, taking in the redness that'd come from both the bandages and the visible swelling. Slowly, you bent his hand forward ever so slightly, and even that action had James tensing in your hands, the small inhale he took more than audible to you from next to him. "You're telling me you hardly noticed this?"

James gave another aggravating shrug. "It only got this bad this morning. Must've slept on it wrong."

"Or maybe it was from you overworking it out on the pitch just now." You gave him a look. "You're lucky it's your non-dominant hand."

You scanned over the injury for another second and then placed his wrist on your lap gingerly. You turned to get your wand out of your bag but remembered the pastries you snagged from the Great Hall for him.

"I brought you food from breakfast, for after I finish with your wrist." You nodded to your bag. "I even got a chocolate croissant. Your favorite." You felt your lips tugging into a smile. Godric, you really did sound like a mother.

"You didn't have to," James insisted delicately, though you saw his eyes soften momentarily.

"I had to pay you back somehow for all the food you sent up to my room the other day. I never got to thank you."

James shook his head. "I got your thank you note."

It took a second for you to recall the scribbling of your quill against napkin, something you'd done in a hurry in your dorm but meant every word you wrote. You felt your cheeks warm at the memory and under James's gaze that you swore you could feel dancing across your face.

You focused back down at his hand that rested on your lap, taking ahold of your wand and pointing it steadily at the discoloration around his wrist. You certainly were no Madam Pomfrey, but you'd learned some basic healing spells over the years from being the boys' honorary on-hand nurse every time they came back still achy after full moons.

Even with that knowledge, you knew not to try anything too experimental on James's sensitive wrist. Delicately, you lifted his arm again before softly muttering the most appropriate healing spell you could recall. His arm felt especially heavy in its limpness, but you could tell James was still tense. You moved the fingers that held his arm back and forth slightly, a soothing gesture as you dragged the tip of your wand over the bruises. The pointed wood grazed over red-and-purpled skin but left it void of discoloration as it moved.

Your lips parted at the sight that never failed to seem brilliant to you, no matter how many nights you spent alongside your friends in the nurse's wing as she tended to them. You didn't look up to see his expression, but you could feel James's fingers soften in your grasp, hear his breathing shallow.

You worked on his wrist with your wand for another minute before you were satisfied, moving it around slightly and humming softly at the lack of discomfort he seemed to have. For safe measure, you lifted his arm from atop your thigh again and began rebandaging it, more neatly this time. Your fingers grazed against now healthy-colored skin, his long fingers limp in your hold but seeming more alive now that the wrist they were attached to was stronger.

You closed off the bandage, tucking in what needed to be tucked and scanning over your work once more for good measure. You leaned forward slightly to make sure the bandage wasn't twisted on the side of his hand you couldn't see and felt a soft and featherlike something brush against the top of your forehead.

Taken out of the intense focus you'd had on his wrist, you looked up to find the culprit of the feeling. It'd been one of James's curls that'd brushed against the top of your head, a sensation nauseatingly familiar, but you were more concerned with the way he was looking down at you.

Looking didn't seem a proper word for it, maybe studying or staring a better fit, but all train of thought had gone off the rails when you met his eyes. They were hazel, you knew that fact better than you knew the back of your hand, but now they seemed to sink into a deeper color, something heavy behind the way he was looking at you. And maybe you were only imagining it, but you could've sworn his gaze was angled to an area near your parted lips.

You blinked in alarm as your breath caught in your throat, not knowing what to do with all the weight of his stare but feeling like moving was impossible anyway with the way he seemed to suffocate you, all without moving a muscle. You were so close to him, close enough to see the heavy rise and fall of his very bare chest and every movement in his face. His breathing was thick, and yours was getting heavier by the second. Something shuttered inside of you as your brain recalled the only other time he'd looked at you in this way, right before he kissed you over Spin the Bottle.

You tried to chase the fluttery, dizzying feeling away, but it stayed fixed in place within your stomach. Did he know how he was looking at you right now? Like he was deep in thought, but as if his mind was blank, hypnotized. Like you'd entranced him. Like he didn't mind. Like he wanted to ...

The door to the locker room slammed open, and you'd never turned your head so fast in your life. You were sure James did too, but you were too busy staring at the unfamiliar strawberry-blonde boy standing in the doorway to be sure.

"Crap, I'm so sorry Captain," rang the short boy nervously, eyes shot wide as he took in the proximity of you and James, his shirtlessness, and most likely the flush in your face. James stood up and you followed suit, noticing the distance he'd already put between the two of you. "I didn't know you were in here. I just came for my broom polish. "

James cleared his throat, curtly nodding at the boy. "It's alright, Crembley." His voice took on the assertion of a levelheaded Quidditch Captain and showed no sign of the unstableness you were feeling from beside him. You didn't know how the hell he did it.

That thought, along with seemingly hundreds of other ones, ran through your head whilst the kid James addressed as Crembley ran through his things in the locker by the door. All you could hear was the shuffling of his things and the ringing in your ears as you waited. Daring to look over, James's head was perched downward in the silence, and he didn't show any signs of discomfort besides the subtle tick of his jaw.

It felt as if an eternity had passed before the boy found what he needed, carrying a round container in his hand as he closed his locker and walked back towards the door. "See ya Captain," he smiled thinly, probably noticing the thickness in the air. He nodded to you politely as well, albeit awkwardly, before taking his exit, leaving you and James alone in the locker room once more.

The silence was deafening. You looked down at your shoes and then at James, who somehow seemed like he was standing even farther away from you than before. You took a breath in to speak before you even knew what you were going to say, but James beat you to it.

"You should go." His voice cut through the silence and echoed through the room and your head unwelcomingly, tone low and sober.

You blinked at him, brows pulling into a line. "What?"

"I mean," he continued, seeming to correct his blunt tone before you could question it. "You're gonna miss Transfiguration."

His explanation didn't have you feeling any less confused. Your forehead creased and you squinted at him and his tense, broad shoulders. "So are you. James, what-"

"I'll meet you there, okay?" he still hadn't looked at you fully, eyes pitched somewhere too low or too shifted to either side of you to be truly at you. You didn't know what was going on, the questions you'd been trying to get answers to still swirling across your mind, unanswered. You tried to force him to meet your eyes, at least give you that respect, but he wouldn't. As you stared at him and the unwavering projection of his hardened gaze, you gave up trying to shift it.

"Okay."

Your heart throbbed in your chest, tired from the work it'd been put through in the span of a single minute. You suppressed the feeling, gathering your bag and throwing it over your shoulder. You took steps towards the door and James, but paused, remembering something.

"Here." You reached into your bag, pulled out the pastries you'd brought for him concealed by a napkin, and held them out for him to take. For a second, he didn't move, and you thought he might reject your offer entirely from whatever mood he'd been consumed by and send you on your way. But he was still James, the one you'd known since forever, and he took them from your hand timidly.

"Thanks," he said, almost a whisper, and he met your eyes then for only a second. You didn't miss the flush of his cheeks that you were sure matched your own, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. His eyes were guilty and quiet and a muscle in his jaw worked as he looked down at the food in his hand. He kept his gaze on it as you pushed open the locker room door and rushed away, feet moving you as your mind stayed stuck in the locker room, replaying its scenes like they would make anything that'd just happened clearer.

taglist!! ->

@hisparentsgallerryy @msmk11 @garfieldsladybird @empath-bunny @urmykindofwoman

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brights-place · 7 months

Text

The Boondocks with an Mother figure! Reader

Pairings: Riley X Reader, Huey X Reader (All Platonic)

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing,

A/N: Man I grew up with the Boondocks! love the show so much it was so funny and still is funny to see! Anyways imma do an motherly figure! - Okay LISTEN! LISTENNN! these boys have no parents they live with their fucking grandpa so you being an motherly figure to them is... Wild! - You were their neighbor so you wanted to greet them with your S/O but he/she/they/it was too busy at work so you went to greet them by yourself - You made some Sweets and came by smiling at them as Grandpa freeman opened the door to show you smiling at him who greete d you as you exchanegd conversation and handed him the container filled of baked goods before noticing an young boy by the age of 9 with cornrows raise an eyebrow judging you while an 10 year old beside him with an afro eyed you - You waved to them before waving goodbye to grandpa freeman "I'll invite you for dinner sweet pea" grandpa freeman said smiling as you smiled nodding "My partner and I will gladly come along!" you soon left after that - You have tried to befriend the two young boys but failed... - NGL I see Grandpa freeman see you as an daughter and cares for you - Wouldn't threaten you with an belt at all but maybe would whoop the two boys asses aka Huey and Riley most of the time when your around he doesn't hesitate at all unless you are used as a human shield - First of all, they didn’t trust you but then you started offering to babysit them when they were unsupervised. The two boys were more reluctant to accept your pressence, although they were polite with you... well Huey was RIley on the other hand would swear at you - You always took good care of them, you watched them closely and made sure they ate proeprly and didn’t get hurt... - When grandpa freeman says anything sexual around the two you gave the male an disgusted look just like the two boys and go try to cover their ears the best you could - When needed too you Cover the two's eyes whenever something bad would effect them which confuses the two since they were used to this type of shit but Huey didn't try to peak while Riley was squirming saying he wanted to see what the hell was going on - Riley is a highly impressionable third grader. He embraces the stereotypical "gangsta" lifestyle, doing his best to promote the urban culture in the contrasting suburb of Woodcrest since he was HEAVILY Influenced by the mass media via rap music and television, he frequently uses poor grammar, and tends to defend his idols even when his imitations go against common sense and righteousness... BUT DAMN WHEN HE SAW YOU WHOOP SOMEONE IS ASS WITH YOU IN HEELS? HE WAS GAWKING! - Huey is a highly intelligent 10-year-old boy, who rarely smiles or laughs, and recognizes and detests the absurdities (both obvious and perceived) of the society in which he lives. His cynicism often touches upon subjects such as politics, religion, the media, businesses and corporations, African-American culture, and American society as a whole. Tending to be obstinate in both manner and speech which makes you freak out on how an 10 year old knows ALOT! - Huey has shown like ALOT OF DEPTH! of understanding that would seem to surpass his young age, such as knowing roughly what is going to happen in the future based on the actions and personalities of the people involved... Which makes you concerned asking him if he or riley had even gotten a proper childhood... - Riley when he is close to getting his ass whooped would run towards you screaming and hide behind your legs as you stare in utter confusion when he jumps into your arms or hides behind your legs as Grandpa freeman stop and stare at you "Put the boy down Sweet pea I gotta beat this boys ass!" You stared at Grandpa Freeman before staring at riley before running away with the child in your arms screaming as Huey just stared at the chaos unfolding - After awhile you would cpome visit and would try to offer to braid rileys hair which he doesn't allow at first...

- When he does get comfy though and needs his cornrows to be fixed or get a new design he would go to you sit down between your legs on the couch while picking up his controller which makes you laugh - You and Huey discuss lots of things together and compliment and praise the young boy fro his work which he is thankful for - You are seen like a motherly figure to them after 7 Months of meeting you due to your sweet personality - For Riley and Hueyy felt so nice to have someone caring for them other then grandpa freeman. After all they didn't grow up with a good relationship with their parents or didn't have any? you didn't know - You are shocked by the boys is skills... like THEY KNOW SELF DEFENSE! in an shocking way and have done things no child would have done but this was Woodcrest... - Huey and Riley would come up to you if they ever finish a test and show you their scores huey always getting 100 and Riley getting... lets not talk about riley is scores - They both enjoy how you pat their heads when they do something right - Whenever they try to cuss infront of you, they always get an glare from you "Boy if you even try that Imma get your grandad to whoop you" You stated with an smile that held an menacing aura - You panic sometimes when you come to visit and see the boys attack eachother with weapons and they both stop quickly when you shout their names and scold them - If you ahve siblings though and their is a party at your place due to your partner hosting it they would be amazed how you are a whole different person cussing out your siblings - The other woodcrest neighbourghs wood also be shocked to see you close to whooping your younger/older sibling(s) asses with your purse cause they ate the last piece of your favourite food - You definetly will have to step in between Riley and Huey sometimes to stop them from killing one another which always freaks you out - You were staying over and helping Grandpa freeman with his upcoming date but you brought some sweets and got some of them eating one before lifting one up and walking towards you and Huey who were sitting on teh couch talking about one of Hueys recent experiments "Yo ma! what the fuck is this-" Riley froze when he realized what he said as Huey froze aswell turning to Riley with an raised brow as you stared at Riley - Riley spoke "Yall N**** ain't heard shit!" Riley said quickly but was to late when you rushed over hugging riley "AWWWW! RILEYYYY!" Huey glared at Riley who was getting your attention as Riley scoffed hugging you back - Riley and Huey wouldn't call you Ma, or Mother in public only in private cause they didn't want to seem like 'Pussies' by rileys words but to Huey he just doesn't want you to know he see's you as a mother figure - For huey the first time he call you Ma/mother was when you praised him for succeding in one of his experiments he worked REALLY hard on - he was in the garage and his eyes widened when he saw he succeed on making the bomb he had spent so long on... So when you come by he perks up slightly which is unusual and grabbing your hand taking you to the garage and telling you about his... 'Experiment' that def isn't a bomb and how long it took "Thats amazing Huey! your such a Genuis! you are an intelligent young boy I'm very proud of you" you stated with an sweet smile patting his head while his afro cause you didn't know where to pat as he stares up at you and looks away smiling slightly which wasn't shown well "Thanks Ma" Riley was walking past to grab his basketball before having his jaw drop so fast when hearing those quiet words from Hueys lips - Huey denies he ever said it but would say it to you in private. - He enjoys that he doesn't have to always be the responsible one in the family even if you live next door - They call you mom/momma/mum/mama/ma/mother - Believe it or not Huey respects you more than anyone in this world, I mean- have you seen yourself when you protected them of a group of assholes

- It’s still strange for you to know why some people hated the two boys Riley he has definitely called you “mom/mama” ) sometimes... and YES, Huey is still mocking him for that, when he does, surprisingly Riley does not get violent, he just scowls in shame and shouts “Well, SHE IS our mom! right?” he just looks at you with the most confused and adorable expression ever made and you just can’t say no to him. - The two boys are very thankful for you like REALLY THANKFUL! even if they don't show it alot - Grandpa freeman is very greatful for having you around so he didn't have to always look after those assholes

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

©brights-place 2023 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact

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sweet-evie · 7 months

Text

Head empty... Just having thoughts of an AU centered around Apartment Ghost!Gojo... 👻👻👻 So take my imagines...

✨ masterlist ✨

»» Ghost!Gojo = Casper the Friendly Ghost... It doesn't stop him from being a fucking menace day in and day out though.

»» Ghost!Gojo has been dead and buried for 6 months.

»» Ghost!Gojo haunts an apartment occupied by a single mom with two kids: one elementary kid and a toddler.

»» Imagine how fucking creepy and unsettling it is to find your toddler talking to empty air, and when you ask them, they look back at you with big innocent eyes and that big cheeky grin, and they start babbling about their "imaginary friend".

»» Creepy, but the mom dismisses it at first, chalking it up to childish imagination running wild, but when the older sibling casually asks about a tall white-haired man hanging around the apartment living room at dinner, Mom is starting to get concerned. Couple this with the fact that her toddler is giggling at odd hours during the night, while the room is empty.��

»» Eventually, Ghost!Gojo makes his presence known to the mom... And he's all smiles and being his usual goofy self while he's waving -- as if it isn't unsettling to have a dead fucking person hanging out in your home.

»» It took a while, but I like to think, the mom warms up to Ghost!Gojo being around after a couple of months. He doesn't show himself frequently to Mom because he freaks her out, but it doesn't stop Ghost!Gojo from being her toddler's playmate and her older kid's study buddy.

»» As time passed, they got so comfortable living with the ghost that mom and her kids forget that Ghost!Gojo is not actually alive and he doesn't show himself to other people, except for them.

»» After they get so used to him and comfortable with him being around, think of Ghost!Gojo as a very very friendly and chaotic poltergeist. He doesn't destroy things (at least when he does, he doesn't mean to). He's very nice... He just does annoying shit. For instance...

»» Ghost!Gojo likes to dig around the kitchen cupboards for candy and leaves the doors open just to annoy the older sibling and leave the mom exasperated. They leave out a bowl of candy for him in the living room after that, hoping it would discourage his behavior, but nope... It's still Gojo, and he does what he wants.

»» Ghost!Gojo also pranks the mom and moves things around in the kitchen to confuse her. The first time he did it, she got scared. A few more times, she got so annoyed. But after like the umpteenth time, the mom just rolls her eyes, like, "Haha, very funny, Satoru! I'm getting stuff from the laundry room, and this kitchen better be sorted when I get back."

»» Mom has definitely threatened to call 'ghostbusters' on Satoru's ass multiple times, and Gojo thinks it's hilarious. She never actually does anything to drive him away. To be honest, she quite likes the fact that her kids have a babysitter when she has to work late... Even if said babysitter is a wandering spirit.

»» On that note, Ghost!Gojo takes his babysitting duties seriously, and proclaims himself the best babysitter ever!

»» Ghost!Gojo does all the typical things people do to entertain toddlers. He talks to her toddler, entertains them, makes them laugh, tickles them, slips candies in their lap, picks up toys and disappears from view to give the toddler a fun puppet show -- with all the floating toys and shit.

»» The older sibling actually saw him doing this one time when they slipped into their younger sibling's room, and they just had to laugh, because who would have thought their family of three would be lucky enough to move into an apartment haunted by a very friendly ghost.

»» Ghost!Gojo helps mom cook sometimes, fetching her ingredients from the pantry and stuff. If a normal person were in that kitchen, all they would see are floating ingredients. It's enough to give anyone a heart attack, but for mom and her 2 kids, it's just Satoru.

»» One time, the older sibling invited their friends over and one of their friends got the idea to play with a Ouija board after the older sibling joked about the apartment being haunted.

»» They play with the ouija board, and Satoru plays into it for fun. Pre-teen kid's friends are terrified, but the pre-teen kid is amused as hell, because they know it's just Gojo.

»» When the friends go home, they tell the pre-teen kid about how much fun they had, and pre-teen kid thanks Ghost!Gojo for being kind enough to play along.

»» Ghost!Gojo has a habit of collecting coins.

»» Ghost!Gojo has never actually tried leaving the confines of the apartment before, but the pre-teen kid asks and they actually figure it out together.

»» They had so much fun doing it too... Ghost!Gojo figures out a way to possess random objects so the pre-teen kid can take him anywhere.

»» That being said, Ghost!Gojo has possessed the most ridiculous things. Think Ghost!Gojo possessing laundry detergent, the coffee table, the toilet paper, etc. He possessed the oven once and it broke, and the mom got so mad, so Ghost!Gojo steers clear of possessing electronic devices from then on.

»» Ghost!Gojo helps the kids surprise their mom during holidays... e.g., Mother's Day, Christmas, etc. For obvious reason, the family starts loving Halloween, because Ghost!Gojo loves it so much.

»» The toddler starts calling Ghost!Gojo 'Papa'.

»» It warms moms heart and hurts her at the same time.

»» Because Satoru Gojo would have made a wonderful father.

»» Ghost!Gojo sometimes wishes he was still alive so he could court mom properly...

»» And since he can't do anything about the fact that he's dead (a ghost for practically one year now), all he can do now is watch over them and make them as happy as possible...

»» Ghost!Gojo promises to stay for as long as he can, for as long as he is permitted.

»» Ghost!Gojo gets to see the kids grow up, move out, and he gets to see mom grow old too...

»» It breaks his heart to watch the people he's grown to care about grow old, while he stays frozen in time, haunting this little apartment forever.

»» Eventually, mom had to say 'goodbye', deciding she wanted to move to the countryside. It wasn't an easy decision...

»» The kids, now adults, return to their childhood apartment to help mom move away, and although Ghost!Gojo rarely shows himself these days, he appears one last time.

»» Unsurprisingly, leaving the place behind is hard. Every time they look back on their childhood, it's undeniably brighter and more colorful, and it's all because of the beloved ghost who made their lives so much brighter because of his presence.

»» Ghost!Gojo was their 'Dad,' 'Older Brother', 'Fun Uncle', and 'Annoying Roommate'. He's worn so many hats as the kids grew up.

»» Satoru doesn't stop them from moving away, only thanking them for showing him what it would have been like for him if he had been lucky enough to grow old with kids of his own. He never had that in his life, but he's glad that he got to have that even after he'd died.

»» He doesn't know how long he's sentenced to wander the earthly plains, but he promises to see them around.

»» The younger sibling actually cries and wishes that he was their dad for real.

»» The mom, now old but still sweet and kind, thanks Ghost!Gojo for being part of their family.

It was goodbye...

Gojo: I'm sad and forever bound to an apartment building.

Also Gojo: I will terrorize the next dweller if they're a dick.

The next occupant is an asshole who cheats on his significant other... Ghost!Gojo is making their life hell.

I kind of want to write a fic about this now 🥴

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #ghost!gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #ghost au #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x fem!reader #satoru x you #gojo x you #satoru x reader #thoughts #headcanons #imagines #gojo x oc #gojo/reader #wbad fanfiction

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malum-forev · 1 year

Text

Serendipity

Summary: Bucky would have never guessed a favor to Sam would benefit him.

“You know I wouldn’t be asking this if it weren’t important.” Sam said through the speaker. Bucky was frantically packing a change of clothes into his backpack while groaning into the phone. He was seriously regretting answering Sam’s fifth back-to-back call.

“Who is she anyways?” Bucky rolled his eyes.

Sam sighed. “She’s someone who’s very important to me.”

“Are you two-“ Bucky searched his brain for the right word. “Fucking?”

“Can you just do this one favor and not be incredibly annoying?” Sam complained.

“Fine, I’ll bring her to you.” Bucky finally said.

“And don’t you dare flirt with her Barnes.”

Bucky’s lip twitched upwards for just a second. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Bucky looked left and right through the neighborhood, the streets were filled with sketchy people and the door to the apartment building was wide open. He walked up to the apartment door Sam had written down and knocked twice. To his surprise, the door next to it opened.

“You here for the drop?” A man asked but the second he saw Bucky’s confused state, the sound of a gun cocking was heard behind the door.

Bucky gripped the knife in his holster, his eyes never leaving the man’s but before anything could happen, the door he actually knocked on opened. And there you were.

Bucky was stunned for a second, he didn’t think beautiful women like you would ever look Sam’s way. Let alone become someone important.

You pulled Bucky into your apartment, giving your neighbor a sweet smile. “Thanks Todd, he’s with me.”

Todd gave Bucky a half nod before slowly closing his door.

Bucky looked around the small apartment. “Your neighbor sells drugs.”

You only hummed in response, fixing things all throughout the apartment.

“He’s a full-on drug dealer and you don’t care.” Bucky said surprised.

You stopped and looked at Bucky up and down. “You’re pretty judgy for a man who doesn’t know me.”

“You’re pretty relaxed for a woman who knows her neighbor opens the door with a gun in his hand.” Bucky retorted.

“How about we start again.” With a deep breath, you smoothed your hair, extending your hand to his and introducing yourself.

“Bucky.” Was all he said.

“Well, Bucky. I appreciate you taking me to Sam but I should let you know I told that stubborn man that I was perfectly capable of getting there myself.”

“Glad we agree he’s annoying.” Bucky muttered.

“I’m ready when you are.” You beamed, holding your luggage by the handle.

Bucky’s eyes widened at the sight of your large suitcase and the other four backpacks that seemed to be about to explode. “Are you planning on moving for the next six years?”

Your cheeks burned and a shy smile escaped your lips. “Sam warned me about you.”

Bucky helped you with your suitcase and three of your bags.

“I’m sure he told you only good things.” Bucky said sarcastically.

“He said you have a very peculiar way of showing you care, you have a very dry sense of humor and you’re incredibly brooding.” You said in a sing song tone as you walked down the stairs of your apartment building.

“Sam said this?” Bucky’s eyebrows raised.

“I may have paraphrased some things and omitted some other colorful words he used.” You whispered the last part.

Bucky nodded. “That sounds more like Sam. I’m sure he doesn’t know half of the words you just used.”

Bucky hopped into the driver’s seat of the car after he helped you lug all your belongings into the trunk of his car. You stared out the window as he drove onto the main street, watching as your home turned smaller and smaller by every meter you traveled.

“So,” Bucky cleared his throat. “How do you know Sam?”

“How did Sam tell you we met?”

“He didn’t.” Bucky kept his answers short.

A devious smile appeared on your face. “Sam and I met while he traveled the coast of Mexico. I was a bartender at a bar he went to frequently-“

Bucky’s face filled with confusion. “Sam traveled the coast of Mexico?”

“I mean the coast of England.” You tried to lie convincingly but with one look from Bucky you knew your cover had been blown.

“Do you normally enjoy lying to men who save you or have you had one too many coffee cups today?” Bucky kept his gaze forward.

“Saved me?” You laughed. “Someone thinks of himself highly.”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “Sam never asks for favors, I can only assume you were in deep trouble.”

“I wouldn’t consider it deep trouble.”

“What was it then? Unpaid debt to your lovely neighbor?” He asked.

“Nope.” You responded.

“Stole from a jewelry store?”

“Do I look like a 1950’s cat burglar to you?” You laughed.

“Overdue on rent?” You shook your head.

Bucky scratched his chin. “The only obvious thing left is the cliché ex-boyfriend giving you trouble.”

You kept quiet.

“Ex-boyfriend it is.” Bucky nodded his head.

The car was quiet for a while and the awkward silence was killing you. “Are you going to ask what happened between us or do I have to make things weird by asking you if the super serum affected the way you get hard ons?”

Bucky’s cheeks turned bright red. “Out of all the things you could ask me- that is what you want to know?”

“Among other things.” You said quietly.

Bucky surprised himself by letting out a chuckle. “Let me get this right. You’ve known me for all of thirty minutes and the most pressing question you thought of asking me is related to- that?”

You smiled. “That? What? Does the word hard on make you uncomfortable? Okay let’s use boner-“

“Please tell me about your ex.” Bucky threw his head back. “I don’t think I can handle another one of your synonyms.”

You took a deep breath. “Where should I start. Maybe by telling you that Sam warned me about him a total of fifteen times, but I obviously didn’t listen. I have a gift for choosing the wrong men. Then he cheated on me twice, with one of my closest friends. Afterwards he proceeded destroy my car when I told him I was leaving him. And finally, he sent me death threats and stood outside of my apartment for two whole days.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “He sounds like a total catch.”

“Like I said, I know how to choose ‘em.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Do you always have that carefree, look on the bright side attitude?”

“I do.” You looked at Bucky up and down. “It’s easy to be positive when you remember some people have had it worse than you.”

Bucky gulped. “So, you know who I am.”

“Sam’s one of my oldest friends, of course I know who he works with.” You smiled.

“That’s how you know Sam then, you grew up together.” Bucky glanced at you.

“Very good investigative skills, Sergeant.”

The drive to Sam’s safehouse was two hours long but to Bucky, it felt like ten minutes. He couldn’t remember the last time he put music while driving. You let him choose whatever he wanted but he felt it would be too soon to tell you how the sound of your voice was the most beautiful melody he’d heard in years. You kept talking about everything and nothing at the same time, sometimes making him laugh- at least that’s what you assumed the throaty sound he made was- and sometimes you made him groan with your bad jokes.

“You must have one! You’ve lived through decades of dad jokes.” You laughed.

Bucky’s cheeks hurt from smiling. “I didn’t exactly have time to write down the ones I heard.”

“C’mon,” You insisted, taking his strong bicep in your hands and pulling on the sleeve on his t-shirt. “One joke.”

“We’re here.” Bucky said, surprised. He hadn’t realized he’d been driving in automatic, enjoying every single thing you said instead of focusing on the road.

“That is a bad joke.” You said, taking in the house you’d be staying at until you could get back up on your feet, and seeing Sam’s truck parked in the driveway.

Before Bucky even put the car in park, Sam was rushing out the door. You leaped out the car with open arms and Sam lifted you up, twirling you around.

“Can we start seeing each other more than once a year whenever you decide to dump your garbage boyfriends?” Sam laughed as he set you down on the grass.

You rolled your eyes. “Why don’t you give me a schedule, I’m sure you can stop being a superhero and block off some dates to see me.”

Bucky crossed his arms and leaned against the car, trying hard to control his expressions. A weird feeling settled in his chest, like someone’s invisible boot was pressing against it. He saw as you took a couple of your bags into the house.

Sam cleared his throat. “I assume the ride was okay?”

Bucky only grunted and his frown deepened as he saw Sam smile.

“Who would have guessed the cyborg has a heart.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bucky muttered, taking out your large suitcase from the trunk.

Sam patted his back. “No need to be jealous, Bucky. We’ve been there done that and it didn’t work.”

Bucky literally growled at Sam.

Sam leaned back on the car, laughter taking over his body. “I wish you could see the face you just made.”

“Hey Buck,” He perked up at the sound of your voice. “Can you give me a hand with something.”

“Coming!” Bucky yelled back, starting to lug your things.

“You just met her and she can call you Buck but I can’t?” Sam asked.

“She’s funny, cute, and asked me about my dick within the first hour of us talking.” Bucky let out a small smile. “Of course she can call me Buck.”

tagged: @kpopgirlbtssvt @shara-ne @namelesssaviour@hallecarey1

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ofstarsandvibranium · 9 months

Note

HIIII!!

Can I get 122 "I'm not going anywhere" with Jamie??

Hurt/comfort maybe?? BUt idrc go with it where you will!!!!

(aaahh! yes! absolutely! here you go! hope you like it! <3)

Stay Right Here

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x GN!Reader

You've heard it all from the press, hell, even from some of Jamie's teammates. It didn't bother you. It never used to bother you, but now it was starting to.

See, you're just a regular person. You own and work at a cafe in Richmond. That's where you met, Jamie. You knew who he was, but didn't care too much about him. But he was nice to you as he ordered a croissant and a black coffee. He sat himself in the back corner, hoodie up, sunglasses on so people wouldn't bother him. He kept to himself as he scrolled on his phone.

He started coming in a lot more after that day. He liked how your cafe wasn't as busy as the other one he used to frequent.

You'd serve his drink and he'd ask you questions, whether they were about life or yourself, it was nice talking to him.

Then he did the unexpected: he asked you out on a date.

You thought he was fucking with you at first so you laughed at him. But then you saw how upset he got and then realized he was being serious.

"Sorry, I just-why me? Aren't guys like you supposed to be dating actresses or models? I mean, shit, your last girlfriend was Keeley fucking Jones!"

He shrugged, "Dunno what it is about you, but I like you. You're real, like. You're not afraid to say shit to me. You talk to me like I'm not a famous footballer, like I'm just Jamie. Listen, I like you, but you don't have to go out with me if you don't want to, yeah? I take consent seriously."

You giggle at him, "Alright. Tomorrow's Saturday and I like to close the cafe early so I can enjoy my night. You can take me out then."

"Fucking mint," he slaps a hand on his thigh in excitement and takes his to-go cup of coffee, bolting out of your cafe in excitement.

The date went well, as did the many ones after. Three years into dating and you're happy with Jamie. But you're not sure if he's still happy with you.

This all started because of some TMZ clip a friend sent you. It was footage of Jamie at dinner with a woman. The caption said that she was on Richmond's womens league. You watched as Jamie leaned in, whispering something into her ear and she bursts out laughing.

Usually paparazzi shots didn't get to you but this one did. The way he looked at her, spoke with her, his body language. It was very much giving the idea that he was interested in her. Who wouldn't though? She's a fit footballer just like he is. She's, quite literally, in the same league as Jamie.

Maybe this was the end of your relationship with him.

________________________

Ever since you saw that clip, you've been trying to read any signs that Jamie was going to break up with you. But he was behaving the same he always did. He'd kiss you before leaving for training, kiss you when he got back. He'd still drop you off at work before heading to the pitch. He'd hold your hand, tell you he loves you, he was the same just as before.

But you weren't.

Jamie could tell something was wrong, but you never said anything. Your smile stopped reaching your eyes. Your kisses with him were chaste. Shit, you didn't even face him when you two went to bed.

So when you pulled away from him when he tried to cuddle you during movie night, he had to know what was going on.

"Is something wrong?" he asks after pausing the movie.

You shrug, "Dunno, is there?"

He sighs, completely turning his body towards you, "You've been distant lately. Just trying to see what's goin' on. Did I do something?"

"Are you cheating on me?"

He looks at you with wide eyes, "What?! No!"

"Are you gonna break up with me?"

He shakes his head in confusion, "Lovey, what are you talking about? No! I'm not cheating on you and I'm not breaking up with you! What made you think that?"

You sigh, curling into yourself, as if protecting yourself, "I saw footage of you with one of the girls from the women's league. You looked...close. Sitting right next to her, whispering in her ear."

"When was this?"

"Last weekend."

"Tilda and I were the first ones to arrive at the restaurant. The music in there was pretty loud so we sat close together so we could hear each other. More people started arriving a little after. We weren't alone for long."

He reaches out and grabs your hand, "Y/N, I love you. And I mean it when I say it. There's no one else for me, but you."

"You say that now, but then someone prettier or more athletic or smarter or just so much better than me in general is gonna come around and you're gonna go running after them!"

"Says who? Lovey, do you really think so low of me that I'd do that?"

"..no, it's just...it's bound to happen right? Everyone's been saying it since we first started dating, I'm not like the other people you've dated. Hell, I even questioned why you wanted to date me when you asked me the very first time!"

Jamie scoots closer to you, hands gently cupping your face, "Listen to me, yeah. I. Love. You. I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here with you until you don't want me no more. I don't care what people say, you're the one that makes me happy."

You look down at your lap in shame, "I'm sorry."

He shook his head and pulls you into his arms, "It's not your fault. It's everyone else's fault for not seeing that I'm perfectly happy with my lovey."

3 months later, Jamie posts a photo of you and he in Paris with you sporting a very shiny ring on your finger. The caption reading: Fuck all of you who doubted our relationship. We're stuck together forever now. #MeetTheTartts

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #gn!reader #gender neutral!reader

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my-proof-is-you · 7 months

Text

Now That We Don’t Talk - Part 1

Summary: When you started dating Jensen Ackles, things were damn near perfect. You were so compatible, and you fit into his life seamlessly. After Supernatural ended, though, Jensen got a new job. Pretty soon, Jensen also got a new life. And you no longer fit in it.

Jensen x You

Inspired by the song Now That We Don’t Talk by Taylor Swift

Masterlist

You

You sat the last box down in your living room with a grunt. You’d been lugging boxes into your new apartment all day, and you were exhausted. You let your tired body fall back onto the couch, sinking into the soft cushions.

You looked around the room filled with cardboard and the few pieces of furniture you had. You could feel the tears threatening to fill your eyes, and bit your lip to stop them. You pulled out your phone, tapping the name of the only person you could think to call at that moment.

“Hi, baby, how are you doing?” your mom answered on the second ring.

You sighed. “I’ve been better,” you replied, rubbing a hand down your face.

“This really is for the best, you know?” she said, and you could almost picture the sympathetic look she’d have on her face.

“Is it? Cause right now it feels just…horrible.”

“Yes, Y/N, it is. He changed, and you are not the only one who noticed.”

You sighed again. “Thanks, Momma. I better get unpacking. Love you.”

“Love you too, Bug. Pour yourself a glass of wine and just try to relax.”

You smiled as you hung up. Your mom truly was your best friend. You’d called her right after you broke up with Jensen and she’d talked you through it the best she could from nearly a thousand miles away.

After you’d moved to Austin to be with Jensen, you saw your mom a lot less than you’d liked. It was tempting to move back home after the breakup, but you had a job that you really loved, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave it.

You had friends nearby, too. The only problem was that Jensen was the one who introduced you to them, which made you feel a little uncomfortable. Gen had already reached out to you. She’d left a message wanting to get together to hang out. You hadn’t responded yet. You just weren’t sure if you could handle the inevitable conversation she’d want to have about the breakup.

You pulled out your corkscrew and a wine glass from your box labeled “kitchen” and opened the bottle of white wine you’d gotten on your quick grocery trip earlier in the day. As you took your first sip, you sat down again and let your mind wander to the beginnings of your relationship with Jensen.

Two Years Earlier - You

It had been by chance that you’d met the green-eyed actor at a coffee shop in your small town of Salida, Colorado. He’d been on his way home from a fan convention in Denver and had taken a wrong turn. He’d wanted to make the long drive alone to clear his head, and you’d learn later how stubborn he was about using the GPS on his phone.

He’d come into the coffee shop you frequented to get some caffeine and directions. You’d recognized him, of course, since you were a fan of Supernatural. You’d always kept up with the show, but you weren’t a big enough fan to have gone to the convention.

“Excuse me, miss,” you heard, looking up from your laptop in surprise. Though you’d noticed him enter the shop immediately, you’d never expected him to talk to you.

“I’m on my way back to Texas, and I think I’m a little lost. I don’t have any service on my phone, but I’m using the Wi-Fi here to look at Google Maps.”

You nodded, listening to his explanation while still wondering why he was talking to you of all people.

“Can you take a look and tell me if this is a good route back to I-25?” he asked, giving you a dazzling smile. You returned it, and took his phone.

“Sure,” you said, looking at the route his phone was going to take him. It looked fine, which only added to your confusion at the question he was asking you. Surely the app could tell Jensen what the fastest or easiest route was.

“That is a good option,” you said, handing him his phone back. “And when you go through Trinidad, there’s a great little barbecue place off Main Street you should check out. Awesome pulled pork and even better cheese fries.”

He nodded, his eyes surprised. “Thanks—“ he paused, stretching out his hand in an invitation to shake yours.

“Y/N,” you responded, placing your hand in his calloused one.

“Y/N,” he repeated. “I’m Jensen.”

“I know,” you said with a smirk. He let out a chuckle and stood there for another moment, as if deciding something.

“Would it be weird if I asked to buy you a cup of coffee?” he asked finally.

“Hmm, I have coffee,” you replied, glancing at the paper cup in front of you. He seemed to deflate a little, and you quickly continued. “But I would love a scone.”

He smiled again, giving you a wink as he headed to the counter. After he bought your scone and his own coffee, he returned to your table where he asked if he could join you.

You made small talk for a little bit. You told him you liked his show; he asked you about your life in Salida; you joked easily with each other. Before you knew it, a couple of hours had gone by.

“Well, I really should get going. I have a long drive ahead of me,” Jensen said, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah, good idea,” you responded. You had really enjoyed your talk with him, even if it was just a random moment in your life and you never saw him again.

“Do you think I could see you again?” he asked, looking a little nervous. It was very cute, especially since he was a famous actor.

“Might be a little tough, what with living a thousand miles apart,” you said with a smirk. You saw his shoulders sink a little. “How about I give you my number. If you ever want to talk, I’ll answer.”

“Hmm,” he said, nodding. “It’s not ideal, but I’ll take what I can get, sweetheart.”

You smiled coyly and put your number in his phone. “It was great to meet you, Jensen. I hope we meet again.”

“Oh, I think we will, Y/N,” he said confidently. You shook your head with a smile as he backed away from the table and out the door. I will never hear from him again, you thought as you watched him get into his car that was parked on the street. Little did you know, one day later he would prove you wrong.

Forevers:

@divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @hoboal87 @chevyharvelle @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @lovely-lynns-likes @ppeachygemss @screechingartisancashbailiff @metalfangirl @vicmc624 @polina-93 @hobby27 @sexyvixen7 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @lyarr24 @amelia-song-pond @donnaintx @spnbaby-67 @traceyaudette @gh0stgurl @fiftyshadesgrl @tapedeck-hearts @lacilou @foxyjwls007 @stoneyggirl2

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plz-help-meeee · 7 months

Text

The shadows are my friends!!

Tw: Mention of suicide, cringe???, logic is none in, death,

A/n: this is my first fic, this is inspired by "get off my screen" by @matrixbearer2024 go check them out their really cool. I really did want to add more to this fic but I couldn't think of anything else so if you have question or have headcannons about this that you want to share you can send them to me.

Synopsis: just a normal teenage dirtbag who can also parts of hell without being dead.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

It started small with seeing little shadow out of the corner of your eye, Thinking you saw a critter go under your chair but you thought this was all just normal stuff that people always see.

That was until you started to see the sky be a red color only for you to rub your eyes or look away and it to go back to normal. Strange tall figure walking by you and you turning back to see no one there.

One day when you were walking back home you saw what looked to be weird red demons and a wolf girl in an alleyway, you spied on them as they walked through a portal talking about having just finished a job.

You lean against the wall after they were gone, you should have been scared, you should have been panicking but a smile creeped its way up your face. Any other person would have been confused and terrified but to a suicidal teenage dirtbag like you this was the most exciting thing to happen in your dull life.

You started to stare up at the red sky longer wondering how long it would take for it to change back to normal, you drew the figures you would see trying to get as many details as you could get right.

You started to change, you started to say 'good morning' and 'I love you' in a more happy tone, you became for active in school.

You even made little horns made of cardboard and fabric in the style you saw the red demons had, you saw a figure who had spikes on their tail once and you decided to make a tail to go with the horns that looked like the figures, you know it was cringey but it made you happy.

You started to recognize the streets you'd frequently see specific figures at, you'd always see this tall owl thing walk down the street you walk down to get home, the demon you walk by who had spikes on his tail would walk down the park you go to to relax

One time you close enough to touch the spiked tail demon's hat, you got so excited, you started to try and touch every figure you walked by.

There was this one figure that stood still no walking by you, or scooting just out of sight, they were just standing there. The figure was tall, much taller then you, they color palette consisted of mostly blue, they had what looked to be fire as it's head, in fact it had three heads one in the middle and two on either side of it.

You were afraid to look away thinking it would disappear as soon as you did, you tried to reach out to touch one of the heads but you stopped when you heard a voice "Ozzie!!". You turned around to see who said that but you found nobody, the figure started to move and you were able to touch their arm just slightly.

You never really saw that figure again, but that was okay you had plenty of others you could see. You patted the tall owl things shoulder whenever you would walk by him on your way to school, you tipped the spiked tail demon's hat over his eyes for fun when you could.

You kept a journal were you wrote down which figures you passed by on what street and also drawings of the figures with little information panels besides the drawing, you named the owl thing towel (cause tall and owl, get it, I'm not funny I know) the spiked tail demon was named cowboy, the figure that had three fire heads was named Ozzie (Asmodeus???, no that would be absurd, right?)

Everything was going great and you started to improve, you got better at speaking to people, had gotten a better relationship with your mom, heck you even texted your brother the one person you said you would never want to see again.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

Today you were walking to school like always, you got your backpack, ate your breakfast and got your lunch box. You said by to your mom and was about to leave but you got this gut feeling, something telling you to do something. You walk up to your mom who was on the phone and hugged her, "I love you mom" you said in a genuine voice.

Your mother looked surprised at your hug but decided to hug back, "I love you too baby" your mom said back with smile on her face. This was the first time you two had said you love each other without malice or irritation in your voices.

You walk outed of your house and to your school, on the way you patted towel's shoulder like usual and hummed a song. You were near the part were you had to cross the road.

You saw a little kid run into the street to chase after a duck toy they had, you noticed quicker then anyone that car was heading straight towards the kid. You reacted fast as you ran towards the child to get them out of the way.

You grabbed the kid's arm and pulled them close to you as you kneeled down to shield them. Thankfully the car the avoided you and the child by mere inches, you scoffed when you saw that the driver was on their phone through their car window.

The child looked upset "my-" "toy?" you cut the child off, "right here" you said as you showed them their duck toy that you managed to save in time. "You should really be more careful kid, your life cost more then some toy." you lectured the kid about safety, you felt like a hypocrite saying all this considering only a few months away you were ready to die at any time.

Your lecture stopped when you felt a cold metal press against your head, "you just can't seem to die can you?" a familiar voice said. You turned your head around slowly, "bro-" you were cut off as everything went black.

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gavisuntiedboot · 2 years

Text

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 5

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

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

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

[Incoming Facetime call from: Gavi]

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

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

"Yes. I felt like having a snack."

"You're disgusting."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stabilized his hands enough to find the contact.

*Calling: ~banana king pepi~ *

"Pick up pick up pick up pick up-"

"Hello?"

"Help. Me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't like her like that."

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

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

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

"Where did you go?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Like what? A black eye?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can you, uh, turn around?"

"Why?"

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

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

“No but I-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does Ferran make you uncomfortable?”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay this is painful now-“

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

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

“I know how you feel.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But you shouldn't have to."

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

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

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

"You're in my way."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Drive safely, doctora."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pedri, how is that right thigh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What the hell is going on?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hola Martin. How are you doing?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pablo?"

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

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

"Gavi?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Pablo."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*~*Taglist*~*

@l0verl4ne @vibinwkay @anastasia-nova @mxgvmiii @mads-grace4 @bubblebeep69 @katluckybear @scuderiabarca @alwaysclassyeagle @simpingmyassoff @grlwithprblms @lqvesoph @pink-manz @graziemille @xxenia14 @nngkay @icedlattewithextracaramel @gyusrose @vip-access @julianalvarez9

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

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alienguts · 1 year

Text

Kintsugi (Bruce Wayne x f!Reader)

Summary: Bruce takes Y/N out for lunch to make up for his moping.

Warnings: mild angst, mentions of breakups, feelings and shit

Request?: sort of, a few people asked for a sequel so here we are

A/N: I haven't been writing a whole lot recently because I had a lot of work and study related things to do, but that's now over and I have a five day weekend ahead of me so I can finally get things done!

1 - Picking Up the Pieces | 2 - Kintsugi | 3 - Stay with Me

Bruce had lost track of how many times he’d looked at his watch in the past hour while sitting alone in the cafe. Y/N did say that she would be running late, but he didn’t think she meant this late. He decided to wait another twenty minutes before texting to see where she was.

Is this what being stood up feels like? Bruce wondered, thinking back to the numerous times he’d skipped out on meetings and dates for other commitments. His mind couldn’t help but drift back to the times he’d stood Y/N up for other commitments, whether that was work at Wayne Enterprises, the Batsignal, or another woman.

Guilt washed over him as he remembered how disappointed she’d been when he turned down her offers to hang out, not noticing when she was in need of a friend or for him to be more than a friend. He’d never realised how lonely she was and had always tried to push the sad look in her eyes from his mind, but he’d been so blinded by love - no, lust, desperation - to see that she was the one who’d supported him this whole time, who truly understood him and knew what his soul looked like.

He was just about to leave when the door clicked open and a rush of footsteps approached him. Bruce looked up from his phone, about to text Y/N when he saw her standing in front of her, her hair a mess from the wind and her shoulders shuddering with each breath.

“I tried to get here as fast as I could,” she said between pants. “There was an accident a few blocks down so I had to take a detour.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bruce said, smiling softly as he stood up to greet her. “I’ve been late for everything so it gives me a taste of my own medicine.”

Y/N let out a huge sigh of relief and took the chair across the table from Bruce, sinking into it as her muscles relaxed again. She briefly looked around at their surroundings, feeling a little out of place in the cafe Bruce had picked. She was used to frequenting diners and Starbucks rather than the grand patisseries that Bruce could afford.

“I already ordered for us,” Bruce said, snapping her out of her thoughts. “If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Y/N said, smiling at him. “You always know what I like anyway.”

His heart fluttered when she smiled at him. It felt like something that had been missing his whole life but had been there the whole time.

If only he hadn’t been so foolish not to see it.

Their lunch date was just like old times: two old friends talking about how their lives had been and what they were planning to do later on in the week. It was as if they’d never been apart, as if Bruce had never taken Y/N’s friendship for granted. He’d pretty much forgotten about the events of the night before and he’d almost forgotten about Selina. Almost.

That wound in his heart wasn’t likely to heal any time soon, and rushing into something with Y/N wouldn’t be fair for her. He needed time to grieve the relationship and piling all of that onto her would be a bad start to a new relationship. Especially one with his oldest and best friend.

“Y/N,” he started after an extended quiet moment. “I wanted to apologise to you.”

“What for?” Y/N asked, stopping as she reached for her cup.

“For taking you for granted for all this time.”

Y/N shot him a confused look. “I’m not sure I understand,” she said.

“Every time I went through a rough patch in a relationship or a breakup, I would always come running to you for comfort,” Bruce said, keeping eye contact with her so she could see how sincere he was. “But I never did the same for you. Whenever you needed someone to be there for you, I wasn’t.”

“Maybe I didn’t need someone to be there for me,” Y/N said. “I know how busy you are.”

“Yes, but a true friend would drop everything for a friend who needs them. And I’m sorry that I was never there for you.”

“Bruce, you don’t have to be sorry for anything, I understand why you can’t always be around whenever I’m moping.”

“But I should be,” Bruce said, drawing the attention of some of the other diners around them. “I should be there for you because you’re always there for me. I feel like I’ve taken advantage of you and I don’t want to keep doing that.”

“I don’t want you to either,” Y/N said, her voice quiet as she looked down at the table. “I cried so much when you left last night. I felt like I was stuck in this endless loop of you breaking up with someone and coming to cry on my shoulder before going off to the next one.”

And I want to be the next one, she stopped herself from saying. Her throat felt thick like she’d swallowed a spoonful of molasses and couldn’t get it to go down. She wanted to tell Bruce how she felt about him, but not right in the middle of a cafe and not when he’d just been left at the altar. It would probably eat her up inside until she felt the time was right, but she’d endure it. Even if that meant waiting years for Bruce to be ready to love again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her back to the room with him. “I’m sorry I put you through that. I want to be a better friend to you and I’m going to be a better friend.”

When Y/N didn’t respond, Bruce excused himself from the table to pay for the cheque. A single tear spilt from her eye once he was far away enough for her to not notice and was quickly wiped away with a napkin. This wasn’t how she had hoped the afternoon to go, and she was sure it wasn’t how Bruce wanted it to go either. After making sure she didn’t look like she was on the verge of tears, she gathered her things and joined Bruce at the counter who was ready to go.

“You feeling okay?” he asked when she approached him. She just nodded in reply. “We should get going.”

Bruce drove Y/N home and walked her up to her apartment, keeping close to her every step. His fingers brushed against hers occasionally, sending sparks up his arm and making his body run warm. They walked up the stairs to her floor in silence, the sound of their footsteps the only sound until they reached Y/N’s apartment and she fished her keys out of her pocket.

“Lunch didn’t end the way we’d hoped, huh?” Bruce said, trying to lighten the mood. “I really am sorry. About yesterday. And today.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N said. “You’ve been hurt, you probably haven’t been thinking clearly.”

“Thanks for understanding, Y/N,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks for lunch,” she said in response before stepping forward to hug him.

Bruce eagerly accepted her hug, wrapping his strong arms around her tightly and resting his cheek on the top of her head. He breathed in the scent of her shampoo and the perfume that he knew she always dabbed behind her ears and let himself relax into her body. Hugging Y/N felt natural to him, but for some reason, it felt even more natural now. Like she was home and was welcoming him back to her after being away for so long.

Without thinking, he shifted his head to softly kiss the top of her head and let his lips linger before she moved away from him. She looked at him wide-eyed, hoping he wouldn’t misinterpret her response before letting her gaze move down to his lips. Her chest rose and fell as her heartbeat sped up and Bruce moved one of his hands from her back to her face, brushing the backs of his fingers against her cheek and moving to gently hold her jaw. Just as he leaned his face into hers, her eyes fluttered closed and her lips parted, waiting for him to make contact.

She felt his forehead against hers first, then his nose brush against hers before he softly captured her lips. Her heart skipped a beat before she relaxed into him, returning his kiss. It was gentle and chaste, but exactly what she’d wanted for years. And all it took was the man she’d loved her whole life getting left at the altar by her rival in love.

The kiss was over just as soon as it had begun. Bruce had pulled away from her just enough to still feel his breath on her skin, his hands still on her but full of restless energy. She knew he would have to go but she just wanted one more minute of feeling like he was hers.

“I should get going now,” Bruce said, his voice soft and quiet. “Alfred will be wondering why I’m taking so long.”

“It’s okay,” Y/N said as she let him move away from her. “Um, we should do this again soon.”

No, it’s too soon, Y/N, she told herself.

“Y’know, when you’re ready, of course,” she added quickly. Bruce smiled at her and took her hand.

“I’ll always make time for you,” he said warmly. “I told you, I want to make up the past ten years to you.”

“I’d like that,” she said as she opened her apartment door behind her and slowly backed into it. “So, see you soon?”

“See you soon,” Bruce said and watched her go before making his way down the hall and stairs and back to his car.

Once the door had closed, Y/N again slid down against it, this time in triumph rather than sorrow. It was too early to know for sure, but she knew that she didn’t have to live in dread of Bruce blowing her off for some other fling again. She finally knew what it was like to be close to him, to have him kiss her, even if it was so briefly. Her fingers drifted up to her lip, still tingling from his kiss as if she couldn’t believe that it had happened. But it had, and hopefully, it would happen many more times in the future.

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idcbabyialreadylostmymind · 2 years

Text

Human Things

Pairing- Norm x Na'vi!reader

Summary- Norm Spellman and his mate.

A/N- this was a request that I have been wanting to do for a while lmao

After the war with the sky people they were sent back to their dying planet, but luckily for you Norm was allowed to stay. When he was allowed to enter the clan with his friends he got closer and closer to you and then you two mated in front of Eywa in his avatar body. And when you saw him in human form he was scared, scared you were going to think he was weird looking, ugly even but that was farther from the truth. You thought he was cute like a little doll.

So you started coming to him during lab hours were he was in human form and you loved it. And he started teaching you human things starting with music.

"And this is called a rad-io." You say touching the mysterious little box and then music started blaring out of it making you jump and Norm laughs. "It's okay it's okay babe this is a radio and what is coming out of it is music." He explains and you furrow your eyebrows. "This does not sound like music." You say tilting your head and bringing it closer to the radio. "That is because there are different types of music like this is-" he picks the box with the music on it. "This is Metallica." He says. You tap your foot on the ground. "I like it." You say giving him a small. And along with music he taught you how humans dance.

You stood up crouching a little not to hit your head on the ceiling. Norm shakes his hips around embarrassed smile on his face as you study his figure, "And that's somewhat how people dance where I am from." He says stopping his movement. "Hm you guys do have different stuff from us, can I try to dance like that?" You ask him enthusiastically. "Of course let me put some music on." He says. He pops some hyperpop song on and you move your hips to the sound, and if Norm could fall even deeper in love with you he would because you looked like a goddess. "Come Norm let us dance."

And then he taught you the nerdy stuff, science formulas you had no idea what they meant but at least you heard his voice, he taught you about star trek star wars, everything. And with all of this learning about him and his human things you began to pick up his mannerisms.

It started off small when you would talk with Jake and Neytiri. "Maybe we should show these men up they say they can hunt better than us, should we Y/N?" Neytiri laughs as you do. "Hell yeah." You say to the other woman who looks at Jake who was just as confused. And then it happened when Norm was in the vicinity. "And then I hit him right in the face." Jake says as he talks about how he fought a animal off of him. "Righteous." You say giving him what Norm called a high-five. Jake and Neytiri look over to Norm who had a smile on his face and they gave him a small nod of enthusiasm you were learning new things at least, even if it was nerdy.

And then one day you were excited because Norm was going into the forest in his human form and that meant you could show him stuff. As you were showing him stuff you pointed to something close to you but far from him. "Uh Y/N I'm sorry babe I can't see it." He says your lips form a pout and the you had an amazing idea. You reached for him picking him up like he was a big stick. He was shocked, a little scared even but the smile you had on your face when he was in your hands he just let it happen.

So after that incident it became more frequent, he needs to get something you pick him up, he wants to see something you pick him up, his legs hurt don't worry you'll pick him up.

One day he was out and you decided to look around and you found yourself in his closet, some strangely hard socks (I'm sorry I couldn't not write that), and then you looked in his clothes they were cute. And one time you heard some scientists saying that wearing your partners clothes was a sign of love or something along the lines of that. So you picked a shirt up it had a picture of a band on it. "Iro-n maid-en." You sounded out before stepping out of the closet.

You put the shirt on and it looked good, it was cropped seeing as your way taller than him in human form. You stepped out of the lab and greeted Neytiri who looked at the shirt in confusion which you only smiled at. And then you spotted Norm, you ran over to him and waved. "Hello Norm." You say hands behind your back. He looks at you and does a double-take.

"M-my shirt." He asks stuttering over his words on how good you looked. "Yes do you not mind I can take it off if you wan-" you say going to take it off before begin stopped by Norm. "No, no, no I like it." He said. And when many of his shirts went missing you pretended not to know, but they were stashed in your home but he doesn't need to know that.

And when Neytiri and Jake had kids you both loved them. You watched them when they went on dates, needed a break, anything. And you would always allow spider to stay with you, you felt it wasn't right for him not to have a home.

And that's how life is with Norm and his Human loving wife.

#avatar 2022 #avatar 2 #avatar 2009 #avatar #avatar way of water #avatar x reader fluff #avatar x y/n #avatar x you #avatar x reader #norm avatar #norm should have had more screen time #norm spellman x y/n #norm spellman x reader #norm spellman

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dema-heart · 1 month

Text

💀=🥃>🍬?

Simon "ghost" riley x gn! reader

Explicit warning. Mentions of spicy nights spent together. Nothing to deceptive but still.

Bar/pub

Mentions of R being harassed but not shown in story.

Drinks/drinking mentioned

Inspired by my too sweet by hozier brainrot

As always, let me know if I messed up somewhere or something doesn't make sense!

“Ghost” Soap nods, patting the man on the shoulder as he sat across from him. Ghost grunted in greeting, his eyes obviously locked on something.

‘Or someone’ Soap thought as he followed his gaze to you.

You were laughing and chatting away at the bar, Gaz laughing along as you probably told another one of your stories. Everyone around you were in high spirits as they usually were around you, even Price was smiling into his glass shaking his head as you talked.

“Quite the Bonnie lad, aye?” Soap spoke quietly to Ghost knowing no one could hear the two but the man across from him would appreciate the secrecy Johnny watched with an amused smirk as Ghost “flinched”, something only knowing eyes could catch.

“Don’t know what you’re on about Johnny”. Ghost grunted. He knew damn well he’d been caught but he’d be damned if he admitted.

He met soap’s grin and raised brow with a neutral look before his eyes slowly drifted back to you at the sound of another loud bout of laughter and chatter.

This time you met his gaze, your smile somehow brightening more, if that was possible. You gave an enthusiastic wave from behind the bar leaning forward to make sure you were seen, causing a few to turn and look, trying to see who caught your attention.

He was debating on his next move. About to pretend it wasn’t him you were waving at, to save his dignity and cover, but the moment your waving slowed a sheepish smile on your face and doubt in your eyes, his hand lifted before he could stop himself pointing to soap and then himself with a slight tilt of his head as if asking who you were waving at.

Ghost watched as your face lit up again, now assuming he had just thought you were waving at someone else and totally wasn't intentionally ignoring you. You nodded your head, waving again and damn the stares he got for waving back. It was worth it for the giddy look on your face.

‘They’re lucky they're cute…’ Ghost thought to himself as he kicked soap’s shoe under the table when he snickered at his quick save.

Someone must have said something as you turned back to making drinks. Shaking his head, he sighed ignoring Price’s raised eyebrow and Gaz’s knowing smirk.

“Don’t know what you’re on about Johnny… yeah right Lt” Soap mocked his early statement mimicking his voice.

Ghost levels soap with an unimpressed look as he listens to the Scot’s, not so bad, impression of him. With a roll of his eyes he gives his full attention to the man in front of him trying to save face as much as he could after that display. Obviously soap wasn't ready to let it go just yet.

“When’d ya get so close with our lovely bartender, ghostie, no use denying it now we all saw the wave and the cute tilt of your head like a confused pup” Soap chuckles when Ghost’s face only hardens as he tried to remember how he'd ended up in this position anyways.

The whole base had decided to have a night out at a local pub, they all frequented as a well earned reward. It was a larger turn out than expected tonight with word having spread quickly and the rumors of the new bartender at the place making everyone curious,You, being said bartender.

You’d somehow won over most of the people from base with your bright smile, playfulness, and all around shining personality. You told stories or sang as if you owed people a show with every drink but best of all you treated them like regular people, even Ghost, who you’d taken one glance at and told to have a seat so you wouldn’t hurt your neck making eye contact with him.There’d been a playful glint in your eyes and complete lack of fear or judgment when the mask hadn’t come off at the bar.

Ghost felt Soap kick his leg under the table, snapping him back to the present. Before he could scold or snap at the man, he felt someone bump him causing him to snap his head to the side, glare harsh for whoever decided to be bold enough to touch him. He was met with your smiling face, a lack of any fear as his glare immediately dropped.

Many men and women had almost shit themselves from a glare like he sent you and you met it with a teasing smile and amused look. He thought with a huff.

“Thought you boys were always aware of your surroundings. Never thought I’d see the day I scared, The Ghost~” you teased in a singsong voice.

‘You’re far too understanding and they read me like a bloody book. Since when were they so attuned to me?’ He thinks,noticing how you’ve shifted from behind him to beside him so he can see you fully, knowing your approach had put him on edge.

Soap’s snicker across from him pulls him from his thoughts as he huffs, leaning back to glare at the sergeant instead.

You smiled cheekily, holding in your own laughter as you stepped forward to place two glasses on the table. You stumble a bit and Ghost's arm is around your waist in an instance to stabilize you.

You shoot him a grateful although sheepish smile as you place the drinks down, but the arm around your waist doesn’t drop instead tugging you back and you instinctively step back into his space, your arm coming to rest on his shoulder as you lean against him slightly, if Soap notices he says nothing, thankfully too.

It’s not long before Ghost catches himself realizing what he's done but instead of startling he lets your hand on the back of his neck ground him.

Your fingers brush the nape of his neck and he’s reminded of your recent nights together.

The image of you on top of him in the shadows of your room as you smile down at him, as your hands tease and touch all he’s willing to give.

The image of you under him reaching up and locking your hands at his nape to keep him close. Fingers trailing under the mask to touch sensitive skin and messy short blonde hair.

The mornings,you’d get him to stay for just a bit, cuddling up to him and kissing him through the soft balaclava he wears around you. Never bothered, it's the only thing that doesn’t come off.

The tap of your middle finger, twice in a short rhythm. A simple code for ‘all clear’, brings him back to now, to the fact he was very much in public with half the damn base around to see him all cuddled up with the bartender.

“The fucker bothering you gone?” he grunts the response out, lowering the arm at your waist to grab the glass in front of him. Going for nonchalance as he felt the stares of people around.

“yeah..thank you and sorry about that Soap. I come to Ghost when any of the patrons get a bit too… pushy?” You take the chair next to Ghost as you answer Soap’s unasked question as he was looking between you two with a raised brow.

“He'll scare them off or let me stick around until they leave, figuring I'm “taken” or realize they won't win the battle against Ghost ” You mumble the rest of your explanation as you lean forward, laying your head on your hands with a tired sigh.

The answer you gave was a half truth, that was how it started. You came to sit with Ghost once when he came alone for a drink one night.

You'd bought him a refill he hadn't ordered and sat down in the chair next to him, pressing up against him as if he wasn't some random customer at the pub. He'd kept his cool as he read the napkin you had placed down with the drink. The words “creep’s been haggling me, sorry” written on it. You had looked up at him with pleading eyes and a nervous smile, scared he'd turn you down or lash out.

Much to your relief, Ghost had nodded before taking a discreet glance around and clocking the bastard easily enough. He’d then leaned his head against yours, glaring at them and all the others watching you till the creep left, and you went back to the bar.

It'd happened quite a few more times since then, each time breaking down his walls around you as you sought him out. As you saw him as a safe place, a protector. It warmed his heart, and he'd slowly opened up around you. Talking about his days,parts of missions, or maybe the new knife he'd gotten. Random stuff to fill the silence if you weren't talking or needed a break in the times you'd sought him out.

When or how your relationship had changed, neither of you were sure. Teasing jokes and flirty banter just became the norm. He'd quickly adjusted to you being in his space and craved it even after all the times of letting you press up against or holding you so people would leave you alone. He had started walking you home some nights when you worked till close, making sure you got home safe before leaving immediately. You had started taking the later shifts just to spend that extra time with him, but he didn't know. Finally after all the tension and missed chances you'd tugged on his sleeve as he made to leave offering him a late night cup of tea and a place to rest so he didn't have to go all the way to base.

He had nodded before he could catch himself, too mesmerized by your flustered but determined gaze. From there after getting him to stay a few nights, you'd taken the intuitive, climbing into his lap on your couch and asking him if he'd like to spend the night in your room instead of on the couch. To which he agreed eagerly, hands on your waist as he pulled up his balaclava to kiss you. Leading to the first steamy night you two shared together.

Soap nods, saving his questions for later. Instead, he nods towards the drinks on the table.

“What did ya whip up for us today?” Soap smiles easily but Ghost catches how his eyes scan the pub for threats and he’s thankful knowing someone else has your back.

“Right! Soap, I made you a cherry old-fashioned! Made with your favorite type of whiskey, scotch! And for my darling knight in skull amour… with a sweet tooth. I made a vanilla old-fashioned with the finest bourbon this pub could afford and vanilla sugar around the rim.” You sit up with renewed energy excited to tell the two men about the drinks you'd made them. You'd gotten into the habit of experimenting with drinks and flavors and both Soap and Ghost had agreed to trying them everytime. Well Soap had agreed, Ghost wasn't given much of a choice.

“I keep telling you I take my bourbon neat. You're lucky these drinks usually turn out okay” Ghosts huffs, swirling the glass and ignoring Soaps whispered “sweet tooth?”

You smile, eyes lighting up with mischief as you’re called to the bar. Standing up, you watch as he raises his mask, locking you in place with his stare as he takes a sip. He winces at the sweetness, sugar crystals shining on his lip, that he licks away before your impulsive thoughts of doing it yourself become actions.

There’s fire in his normally cold gaze as your eyes follow the way his tongue traces his lip. You copy the action lips and throat suddenly feeling dry. He takes another sip acting like the sugar will kill him, making you roll your eyes, matching his stare with a playful glare.

“Sweet as hell but it ain’t bad. Just not my cup of tea.” Ghost grunts out, the playful look in his eyes not dropping at your glare.

You scoff, shaking your head as you stop behind his chair on your way back to the bar, leaning in, you press yourself against his back as your arms come around to grab the glass.

You can feel him tense under you making you chuckle as you raise the glass to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. You hum, a deeply distracting noise, Ghost thinks. Before you turn your head,your breath fanning his ear.

“Just as sweet as you take your morning tea…Lieutenant.” You whisper the words breathily against his ear, rejoicing in the way you can feel his breath stutter before you step back a pleased grin on your face.

“See you boys later, enjoy the drinks. They’re on the house for disturbing your evening. Till next time John…Simon.” With that and a bit more pep in your step, you made your way back to the bar, falling into the rhythm of the busy night as you made drinks and entertained your patrons, leaving both boys flabbergasted at the table.

“Ghost…?” Soap mumbled in question,looking between you at the bar and Ghost.

“Not a word Johnny” He barked as if he was giving an order. He eyed the glass before downing what was left in it, standing up and leaving quickly before soap could ask anymore questions.

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