#idk i miss reading for fun honestly so let's get back to it!

[ridiculously-over-obsessed]

Attempting to get back into reading for fun now that I'm officially done with uni, so I got a chunk of books for Christmas/my birthday that I'm really excited about, but I'm also taking recs!!

Ones that I got for gifts to gauge the kind of thing I like:

Ballad Of Songbirds and Snakes - Suzanne Collins

The Locked Tomb 1-3 - Tamsyn Muir

Burned - Ellen Hopkins

Taking any and all recs but it'll be a while before I actually get to read them because I have a chunk of others to get through first ✌🏻🥰

Also!! Started a Goodreads but idk what I'm doing with it so I guess we'll figure that out as we go along dlkfjgfldkjg 😅

[love-marimo]

Hiii Lili <3 could I request one piece character (idk for who you write, so u can choose!) reaction to a reader who is very normal looking girl (doesn't stand out from the crowd to say soo) but in battle/confrontational situation becomes a complete, very violent and dangerous, destruction machine?

The circumstances or if she is friend or foe, you can choose, whatever let's you more inspired. ✨ If you don't like or feel very inspired by the prompt it's okay, I just really liked your writing style ♥️

There is More Than What Meets the Eye (Monster Trio x Fem!Reader)

ー hello!! thanks for the ask. this is actually such a fun idea. i went a little overboard with this one lololololol. and i decided to go with the monster trio ♡ hope u like it :3 if you/anyone wants to read sth about other characters,pls lmk! i currently write for jjk, genshin and of course, one piece ★

ー as always, requests and commissions are open! ♡ (im bored pls give me something to do :'3)

cw: mentions of weapons, violence, and battles

Luffy

he's not someone who likes to expect things from anything, let alone anyone.

but he gets really amused easily.

(luffy is a big yolo person, and it shows)

he is naturally protective of his crew though, and that includes you.

but at the same time, he trusts that everyone is capable of fighting and surviving on their own, so he doesn't think much of your capabilities. he just knows that you're strong.

you had just recently joined the crew and you're figuring out how you can help.

you help with franky and usopp with the ship's repairs.

then you tend to the plants with robin.

then you help sanji cook lots of meals (because luffy eats like a monster)

and then you asked nami if you can clean the study room for her so she can make maps comfortably.

and after all that, you joined zoro to workout with him.

for a normal person, doing all these things would exhaust one at the end of the day, but in your case, you seem to never run out of energy.

the crew is thankful for your help, but what they didn't realize is that you never run out of stamina to just do things.

until luffy points out how restless you are.

"hey, don't you ever get tired?"

you were about to answer him when you noticed the presence of a few marine ships at your tail.

the crew panicked and prepared to change course.

when they fired cannonballs, you immediately caught each and every one of them and threw them back at the ships, causing a simultaneous explosion.

there was one cannonball that you almost missed, so you were quick to grab it.

imagine luffy's surprise when you crushed it with your bare hand before it exploded.

everyone pretty much had their jaws on the floor.

luffy practically had sparkling eyes asking you how you did it.

"wow, i never knew you could do that!"

"what other things can you break with one hand?"

"here, can you break this huge weight?"

you were confused, but you obliged, breaking the weight in half.

"so cool!!"

since then he would start attacking you out of nowhere, trying to catch you off guard.

well that never happened, so one day he'll mope about it.

"hey, seriously, what's your secret?" he asks, poking your cheek.

"there is no secret." you laugh. "i just like to train my body."

"well, that's boring." he complains.

after a while though, he smiles at you.

"i honestly thought you look weak. but you're strong, so keep it up!" he said, pointing his thumbs up.

you didn't know whether to laugh or feel offended, but you took it as a compliment.

it feels good to feel needed by your friends.

Sanji

sanji thinks you're the most vulnerable person in the crew.

he doesn't mean to be condescending or anything.

but you just seem so… bland.

and it's not that he thinks you're so weak to the point that you can't defend yourself. part of him just assumes that you're average when it comes to strength and the other wants to protect you because you're a girl and you're pretty.

one day though, you're docked at an island to stock up on supplies and you forgot to tell the crew that you're going shopping by yourself.

sanji panics. what if something bad will happen to you?

something did happen to you.

you almost got robbed.

and sanji saw you manhandle the robber in a flash, and the next thing he knew, you were pointing a dagger to the robber's eyes.

it was so close and he can feel you wanting to gouge them out.

sanji hid himself for a moment, observing how you fight against the enemies.

you were practically raging, beating them up even if though they're already helpless.

one would try to beg for your mercy but you're pissed off. so you punched them hard in the face, knocking them unconscious.

sanji quietly had a nosebleed.

you were just so?? hot??

i mean you already are beautiful in his eyes but something about you being this strong turns him on surprised the shit out of him.

after you're done, you turned towards sanji, going back to your normal self.

"sanji! i didn't notice you were there."

"oh, i love it when you're violent and sadistic y/n-swann!"

he'll practically throw himself at you, showering you with compliments and following you around like a dog.

"forgive me for saying this, but i didn't realize you were that strong." he'll say.

"well, now you know!" you smiled at him.

instantly had heart eyes

"you are my beloved strong woman! woof!"

ever since then, he'll be even more batshit crazy about you.

every time you display your strength in front of him and the crew, it will take every bit of his will power not to pass out.

Zoro

this man…

he doesn't look like it, but he's very good at reading people

he got it after years of travelling on his own as a pirate bounty hunter

he may not have a good sense of direction, but what he's good at is sensing the strength of his opponents.

given that he's in a fight with one.

it's something he honed over time, so that he can create his own strategies when in battle.

like luffy, he knows that you're strong, and you work well in a team or on your own.

what he doesn't know (or at least he isn't aware of) is the lengths your strength can reach.

he has a gut feeling that you never went all out in your time as a member of the strawhat crew. (he's right)

so his competitive ass decides to test you through a spar.

you get fired up by the idea, since you've been wanting to train with zoro for a while now.

"ready? i won't go easy."

what a cocky bastard tbh.

you're very focused on him.

you're literally the definition of "lock on" every time you fight.

after you took weapon of your choice, you began to spar.

since you're on the deck of the sunny, you were both careful not to use complicated techniques to avoid destroying the ship. but you both still gave your all, unwilling to show any blind spots to one another.

chopper admired both of you on the sidelines, and the clashing of your weapons were heard by everyone on the ship.

"hey, moss head! what do you think you're doing-" sanji tries to interrupt.

then you landed a blow to make zoro lose his grip on his swords.

you ended up on top of him, and you pointed the back of your weapon on his chest.

he expected this so he wasn't surprised.

he found it amusing even.

"knew you were hiding something." he chuckled, uncharacteristically admitting defeat.

"but i'm not! i guess i got a little ahead of myself. sorry." you say, looking away from him, a little flustered.

"what are you sorry for? your strength? you know that's a pretty useless thing to apologize for." he replied.

since that day, he respected you more, and you would train together.

heck, when you're on an island, you'll find spacious and uninhabited places where you can spar with him to go all out.

it almost always ends in a draw.

zoro would go easy on you on the ship because you both know that it's not ideal to fully use your powers.

so the times where you can both give your all, you both make the most of it.

he teaches you how to use swords, and if you already know how, he'll teach you some of his techniques.

much to your happiness.

"you're pretty good, honestly. you can easily catch your enemies off guard with how you look." he admits to you one time.

"that's kind of offensive. but i'll take it!" you laugh.

ー Lolita

[bucknastysbabe]

idk if your taking requests but I’m in desperate need of more modern AU Jace fics. Maybe if he was a cocky hockey player with his giant dick I need smut 🙏

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Hockey player!Jace, Actress!Reader, fake dating trope, my not sly commentary about parasocial fangirl behaviors and pressure on women in high profile industries, she has honkers and he has a horse cawk match made in heaven, Jacey is a little sweet babey always, real kittycat eating hours, teasing, pnv!sex, v!fingering, fast burn, lots of banter :)

Taglist: @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk @targaryenbarbie @valeskafics @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @fairysluna @sugarpoppss2 @lovelykhaleesiii

The contracts were to be signed today. Jace was to be in a PR ‘relationship’ with this break-out actress. He was a star himself in the NHL, winning the Hart Memorial trophy for being the most valuable player his rookie year. He played centre, covering the ice and passing to his teammates to make a goal. He got a huge deal in the aftermath.

Suddenly his world was much more glamorous.

He wasn’t sure who sucked whose dick but he agreed to dating the starlet. He flew down from Toronto to the upscale management office in New York to meet the chick. He’d heard her name, couldn’t put a face to it, and certainly didn’t look her up. The brunette hoped she was a looker like his manager said.

He was pleasantly surprised, shaking her manicured hand. Jacaerys grinned as he introduced himself, poorly hiding his leering gaze on her tight little body. The actress was smoking hot. He wondered if she would be down to fool around. He had no desire for romance outside of planned sightings. He wasn’t much into that at the moment. Jace dated his high school sweetheart Rhaena until he’d gone big time.

She didn’t acclimate to fame and his constant absence. Jace understood why she broke it off. When they were seen— reporters interrupted. Pictures of fan girls crowding around him surfaced all the time. She deleted her socials due to harassment. He was saddened but figured it was a sign to let loose. So let loose he did.

Jacaerys had fucked plenty of puck bunnies, professional athletes, and the occasional hook-up with famous names by now. His brother called him cocky, and his mother snapped to not let the fame get to his head. He listened, truly, Jace loved his family and wanted to make them proud.

But honestly? When he was accomplishing everything he dreamed of and the money was flowing in, Jace couldn’t help but feel a bit over-confident. He knew he was talented, handsome, and a good fuck. He’d learned from a young age that his…dick…was different. In layman’s terms, he had a horse cock. By God, he was proud of that thing too.

They sat down in adjacent chairs, waiting for the agent to come to debrief them on the terms of the relationship. Jacaerys' brown eyes flicked over to her bored face, down to her busty chest, and back up. She scoffed “You haven’t seen my tits on the silver screen?”

He grinned, asking “I don’t get around to movies much. Care to enlighten me?”

Her lips turned into a frown, posture stiffening up. The actress shook her head, pulling out her phone to text rapidly. She was likely talking shit. Jace prodded, “What? Am I missing something? I’m playing hockey year round babe.”

“I literally am up for a Golden Globe for leading actress in a drama,” she grumbled, “Apparently you don’t read either.” She turned back to type on her phone again, lips settling into a pout. The athlete was a little taken aback by her attitude. He liked it. It appeared she was used to cinephile sycophants and co-stars trying to get a piece.

He hummed a laugh, spreading out in the wide chair. They waited, her nails clicking on the cell phone beginning to irritate Jacaerys. He absently asked "You like hockey? It's pretty fun to watch live."

"I don't really pay attention to sports, I act year round babe."

Jace's eyes widened in surprise. She was a spitfire under the glossy hair and now placid expression. He knew better than to irk her more, his mother taught him to respect women. The athlete was drawn in, he wanted a reaction, the attention whether it was negative or not. He smirked at her, leaning over, "Why did you pick me then? Don't like hockey, don't seem quite fond of me."

Her own lips curled a bit, the woman tucking a loose lock of hair behind a jeweled ear. She stated, "I got a list, you were single and cute. Word on the street was that you were a bit nicer than who I am sitting with now. Don't worry, it won't be too long, you'll be back to railing your way through Toronto soon." Her smile was thin, a blank look to her eyes.

Jace's chest fluttered a bit, guilt seeping into his mind. Before he could apologize the door opened. A man in a suit briskly walked in, setting down some papers. He eyed the pair to ask "Ready for the terms?" They both nodded, and Jace noticed her frown grow deeper. Damn. He felt like an asshole.

"Alright Jacaerys Velaryon, you'll be 'dating' my client for three months minimum. If you two hit it off, good job, enjoy your relationship. You two must be seen in public at least bi-weekly, my client will be at your games, and maintaining PDA is required. I'd recommend going out with your friends and playing the part. We'll sign an NDA and get this show on the road. Sound good?"

"Sure."

"Can't wait," she deadpanned.

They scribbled their names and exited the meeting. The actress ignored Jacaerys as she left, answering a phone call, pointedly looking away. He eventually cornered her up to exchange phone numbers. The pair had to exit the building at separate times so as not to draw attention.

Jace decided to read up on his faux girlfriend for the flight home. The actress was talented, the same age as him, and booked for the year. He decided to shoot her a text, damned lingering guilt eating at him. The hockey player was soft at heart, always had been. He could play the part of a cocky athlete but he truly hated confrontation, upsetting others, and general dickishness. That was for his uncles.

"Sorry about being a dick. Going to watch your movie tonight. Should I start with your small role in that sitcom?"

His dark eyes raptly watched the typing bubble. It disappeared, reappeared-- finally a response showed up. She had replied with an emoji rolling its eyes. "God, please don't, I look like a freak. The movie is much better. Then you can tell me about my tits. Apology accepted. See you next week in Toronto, make sure to clean the thongs outta your place."

Jace grinned, excitement coursing through his veins. He ended up making a big show picking her up from the airport. He grabbed the luggage and put it in his new sleek car. A couple of people had stopped her, even Jace for some autographs. The brunette made sure to hug the actress-- pulling her in for a searing kiss. His hand possessively splayed across her lower back, fingers grazing her pert ass.

He opened the door to let her in the car, cameras flashing now. Jace leaned in to whisper, "I have to admit, you have a beautiful body." She flushed and pecked his lips again, shooting him a smile. The hockey player climbed into the driver's side and off they went. He snuck a look and added, "I didn't really find any thongs but everything is pristine, Miss Golden Globe Nominee."

"Good, Mister Hart Trophy Winner."

Jace couldn't help but smile. He enjoyed her banter while they headed to his place. The woman was witty and playful, her icy facade melting as he listened to her. Jace carried her bags into the luxury apartment complex, while she had a roller bag. He teased, "You got boulders in here?"

"I'm staying for a bit, need to be prepared. You can run around in a tracksuit and no one bats an eye. If I look like a slob the tabloids are going to wonder if I'm a drunk or something. You won't believe the 'inside sources' I apparently have."

Jace frowned, scoffing, "That's bullshit. They put so much pressure on women in the industry."

She gazed at him, eyes softened as she thanked him in a reverent tone. Jace felt his cheeks heat up. He was beginning to wonder if he was having a moment of weakness or simply struck dumb by her looks and powerful presence. "At the least, I'm not a model."

Jacaerys snorted. He's had his fair share of models. He assumed they were all a bit nutty from the coke, not the horrid pressure from their nigh-impossible standards of beauty to uphold. "Good point," he conceded.

She stared around his loft, lips quirking up. The woman placed her bag down and strolled to the huge windows overlooking the city. Casting a glance back at Jacaerys she marveled, "It's gorgeous Jacaerys. Much prettier than LA." He smiled and replied, "Wait until you see it at night, I never get tired of the view."

Jace liked the way she said his full name. Maybe too much. He felt his cheeks begin to burn again. His animal hindbrain tittered "How would she sound moaning that?"

Awkwardness settled over the pair, her turning back to look out the window. Jace stated, "I'll put your things in the guest room, it's got a big bathroom and all."

"Thanks hun," she hummed. She followed along to place the luggage down, flopping onto the bed. Her big eyes followed Jace's form as she commented, "I highly doubt you decorated the place but it's nice. Very...Feng shui."

"Mom did all of that, I do try to keep it clean. I fear she'll appear and scold me. You could lick off the floor at my place growing up."

"Ha! I wish! I'm cluttered as all get out."

Jace gave her a faux glare, "Better keep it tidy, babe."

"Uh-huh, sure, what's on the docket for today? I want a tour and a cocktail to cap it off at dinner."

"You mean the club?"

Jace couldn't stop his cock from twitching when she smiled at him coquettishly, sparkling teeth gleaming as she purred "Of course stud, let's see what the rake of the Maple Leafs is putting down. I wanna see you dance!"

Oh. He was in quite deep. Jacaerys Velaryon might have developed an infatuation faster than he could pass a puck.

They held hands walking around Toronto, catching lunch as he showed her the sights. They rested on a bench in a park, Jace's arm slung around her shoulders, their heads close together as they spoke. The pair of them stared at her phone, giggling. The actress read off the Instagram post, "Starlet dating hockey star Jace Velaryon?"

"They're quick with it, for the love of god don't look at the comments."

Her pretty eyes rolled, "They call me an industry whore, nothing new, let me see this." Her red lacquered nail clicked on the comments. She guffawed, lips spreading into a smile. Jace raised a brow and looked over. He shook his head in annoyance-- how could 'fans' of his be so angry? Wouldn't they want him to be happy?

'Please, this won't last a second.'

'Pr relationship so obvious.'

'Jaceeeee whyyyyy she's such a bad actress.'

"A Golden Globe nominee is a bad actress? God, don't listen to that nonsense," he grumbled, tightening his arm around her shoulders. She shrugged and clicked on a fan page of her own. Jace seemed to settle at the more uplifting comments. He laughed out loud at one, 'Loveeee get it mother!' Jace outright guffawed at the second one, 'Be careful babes, don't get split by his infamous horse dick!!!'

"I like my fans better. I'll have to check out your fan cams at some point."

Jace rolled his eyes, helplessly grinning. His eyes flicked to a camera shuttering. Ah great, paparazzi, he thought. The brunette was planning on intentionally kissing her. He glared at the person and sniffed, "Come on, let's head back to my place for a bit." She cooed "What? Don't want your pic taken Jacey?"

"Nope, we need nap time before hitting the nightlife."

"I hope we see Drake. That would be cool."

Jace laughed his ass off. When they got into the elevator he crowded her up, hands on her waist. She inhaled, eyes widening, full lips quirking up. He murmured softly, "You're so...I can't find the words." Her arms loosely linked around his shoulders, soft lips so close. She whispered, "Actions speak louder than words pretty boy."

Next thing Jace knew her legs were locked around his hips, the pair making out as he blindly keyed open the door to his loft. Kicking the door open, the brunette pressed her against the wall, mouthing his way down her neck. The actress' nails dug into his shoulders as she moaned, breasts heaving in excitement. He nipped at her collarbone, mumbling, "Lemme eat you out, fuck, please."

"Bed now," she demanded in return.

He deposited the beauty on his bed, wildly jerking at his clothes. She was shimmying off her leggings, the sweatshirt she borrowed hitting the wall. Jace climbed atop her in his underwear, grinding against her pussy, mouth latching back onto plush lips. She whined under her breath when he lapped into her mouth, calloused hands playing with peaked nipples.

They grew sloppy, Jace finally kissing and sucking his way down her tight body. He grabbed one of her legs as he sucked on the thin skin of the hip, dark eyes blown black with arousal. She gripped at his hair, breathless, "Fu-uck Jacaerys, please, please." Jace grinned, rumbling, "I gotcha baby, screw the club, I'll show you a good time tonight yeah?" He was hopelessly earnest, swollen lips hovering above her mound.

"Yes yes baby, want it all, please, you're killing me." Jace could lose his mind at the way her voice cracked into a whimper, brows pinching in agony. She even thrust fruitlessly upwards-- Jace's other hand keeping her hip pinned. He grunted, "Spread em' sweetheart."

He tongued at her engorged clit off the rip, hands digging into the soft meat of the thighs. The actress cried out, back arching all gorgeous, tits bouncing with the movement. Her hand tightened in his curls as Jace suckled, eyes watching every little move. He snuck his fore and middle fingers up and across her sopping slit, smirking.

He delved them into her cunt as his tongue joined, playfully lapping as the excess slick, moaning at her natural taste. She whimpered again, thighs tightening as Jacaerys crooked his fingers up into her g-spot, flicking his tongue upwards and back to her clitoris. He paused to groan, "You feel good pretty girl?"

She moaned his name and babbled nonsense, pussy throbbing and drenching his fingers. Jacaerys' smiled-- she moaned his name just as he imagined. He had a rhythm alternating between teasing jabs of his tongue and suckling on the bundle of nerves. She was growing frantic, tossing her hair around and practically howling in pleasure.

He sped up the pace, relentlessly working her pretty pussy until the darling shrieked his name, clenching his hair. Her thighs twitched and clamped around his head, body arched as she heaved and cried. Jace groaned at her gushing around his fingers, long lashes fluttering in pure want. He needed to fuck her, now.

He pulled down his briefs as she laid back, panting, pretty face dazed and flushed-- a light sheen of sweat had covered her naked body. He climbed atop her, pleading, "C'mon sweets, think you can take it? Take me? I'll give you another orgasm, too goddamn perfect not too, god."

Her lidded eyes widened at his cock. It was flushed and heavy, too heavy to do anything but hang between his impossibly toned thighs. The actress rasped, "Give it to me, I can take it, ease it in." She kissed the brunette open-mouthed and wet, shaky legs pulling up to cage his hips in.

Jace's breath stuttered as he guided the fat tip of his cock into her soaked pussy, feeling the stretch immediately. She clung to him, pouring herself into his lips, nails digging into his shoulder blades. He slid in another agonizing two inches, gasping, "Fuck you're tight."

She responded by sucking blooming marks into his tensed neck, eyes rolling up when the thick middle of his cock spread her wide open. "Jacaerys, Jacaerys, you feel so good- so damn big baby!" He kept pushing against the slight resistance, settling as deep as he could.

His brown eyes clenched tight, she was like a silky glove around his cock. Hazily he felt her stomach, eyes lolling around at the bump from his cock. She was mewling wetly at the junction of neck and shoulder, non-stop babbling about being so full. Jace panted, "Mm, yeah, lookit' you, stretched your pretty pussy out."

He began to fuck in earnest, chasing a high. Her cunt dragged and clung to his fat cock, ridged insides sending sharp arousal up his spine. Jace lost himself in the moment, mouthing at a pert nipple, heavy balls slapping against her ass. She cried and yelled, worthy of a fucking porno. He knew he wasn't going to last long. But the way she was practically shivering and fuck-dumb, slurring her words of nonsense, she was right with Jace.

"M'gonna cum baby, you on birth control?"

"Fuck me, jus' keep fuckin' me," she rasped. Plan B was always an option when her mind returned to non-mush. Jace kept fucking her as instructed, groans growing desperate and guttural. His balls were drawing up, aching from how needy he was to cum.

He kissed her one more time, swallowing her noises before pulling back to pant against her cheek, hips beginning to stutter. He snuck a hand down to her cunt, thumbing her clit. Just when he thought it couldn't get any better-- she shrieked again. A gush of her slick engulfed his cock, wet noises filling the bedroom. Jace cried her name, shoving himself deep and filling her up.

He might've sent her into another orgasm but Jacaerys was whited out from pleasure. All the athlete could do was pathetically groan as his cock twitched and pumped his heavy load into her cock, thickening the slick coating on his prick, collecting around where they joined. It was delightfully filthy. He came too with a deep inhale, sliding out with a mewl and flopping away.

Overstimulation was a common theme with the girls he fucked-- Jace knew to give some space in the immediate aftermath. It wasn't too long before she complained, "Why are you flopped over there? Get over here, you just fucked my brains out."

He grinned like a sap. How did she have yet another moment where he found himself deeper in desire for the woman. Jace murmured, "My bad, my bad, didn't want to overheat you or anything." She retorted, "I'm a cuddler Jacaerys Velaryon, you should remember that about your girlfriend." He chuckled, jerking her into his embrace, tucking a chin on her shoulder.

"They didn't lie about your horse dick. Hate to tell your fan girlies that cock belongs to me now."

Jace smirked, pressing a gentle peck to her skin, "It's all yours, believe me. They can find the next rookie of the year to be their online boyfriend."

[mattscoquette]

my experience meeting the triplets/ going to their tour ౨ৎ ⋆.˚ ✧

first i just wanna say, i am so so so insanely grateful to have attended both tours and to have met them twice. i’m not trying to brag or anything but a lot of people ask me and i figured it be easier for me to make one post rather than answer inbox questions a million times that get lost.

2/5/23 - let’s trip tour

i met the triplets for the first time during the let’s trip tour. i vividly remember being at work when the tickets went on sale and i was gonna go w my coworker but things fell thru and i went alone, and that alr was nerve wrecking enough. but i met a lot of cool people on line and everyone was super friendly. i got the pre-show small talk package, so i got to meet them before i saw them on stage. i also wrote them letters (idk if they ever opened them) but it was honestly fate when i stopped to drop them off in the present bin because there was a group of three girls in front of me so i wasn’t super rushed when i was meeting each triplet.

i met chris first! i was soooooo nervous but the second i started talking it all went away. the first thing i noticed was how small they are irl and immediately after was how fucking good chris smelled 😭 he was soo sweet. i told him how i loved watching their videos w my mom and that she was his favorite. i can’t rlly remember what else i talked about him with, and i tried to screen record my camera but i didn’t turn the mic on so i lost all the audio 😭😭

next was matttttt the loml. i was immediately soo comfortable around him, i was literally just talking like a normal conversation without even thinking. i asked him how the tour was going and he told me he was sad it was ending soon. and then i told him how one of my best friends is a triplet and we talked about that, he told me his dad is a twin and that everyone thinks he nick and chris are identical but they aren’t. he was so sweet and really listen to what you have to say, i had such a nice time talking with him.

when i met nick my auto pilot like shut off and i froze 😭😭 i literally out loud was like “i am so nervous” and he was so sweet about it, he hugged me a second time and was like “no don’t be it’s okay!” lmfaoo. i didn’t get to talk to him as long but i remember him telling me it was super nice to meet me after.

on line for the red carpet, i met madi! she was just walking around the venue, and she was over by me and i asked for a photo. she was soo sweet (and so pretty irl omfg). i didn’t wait in line for the red carpet for very long, i got merch, and then i did my photo w them :,) tbh i honestly don’t lovee it because i rlly don’t look the best in it lolol. bur ill pull thru and show u all. but this was back when u got to pick ur own poses and we all did hearts with one another (idk if that makes sense) and i stood next to my mannn😛😛

i look so diff now like i actually hate how i look when i met them but that’s beside the point 😭😭 but they all looked sooooo good. also for reference im about 5’3-5’4ish.

show-wise, it was sm more fun than the versus tour tbh. i got to see yung pleit perform and he opened w miss me and everyone was going insaneeeee. i was literally like one person behind the baracade, i was so close it was so so so cool. the triplets went on for maybe twenty minutes but they read the question i asked them which was so cool. and mary lou, jimmy, justin, and nate were all at my show!! they were on the balcony above the stage and were waving to us it was so cute. i had such a fun time at this show i wish i could go back

10/9/23 - the versus tour

this show was soooooo so so so special to me. i was going through a really really hard time. and this show made me so happy and gave me such a nice break from everything. this show wasn’t as close as the first show so i went to with my mom (she was team orange lol). i also got to meet some old online friends i made which was so nice :,) like the last tour, i got pre-show small talk. my only complaint though is that when i bought tickets backstage wasn’t available, some friends and i called the venue and they told us there was no backstage , but there actually was :( but im still sooooo grateful i got to meet them!

the order was the same as last time- chris, matt, then nick. i was so nervous about meeting them again, i literally almost forgot to take a pic w chris LMFAO. he was so sweet, he asked me how i was doing, if i was excited, all that good stuff. this time was a lot more rushed than the first, but i still got a decent amount of time with each triplet. i also got them each to draw me my fav angel numbers to get tattooed, i still haven’t gotten it yet but when i do i’ll post it :)

i was sooo nervous to meet matt again lmfao but as soon as i went up to him i felt fine. i complemented his outfit (he had on his white eeyore jacket 😭😭 so cute) and we took our picture and when i was leaving he told me it was rlly nice to meet me :,)) he is sooooooo pretty irl like his eyes r so blue and his earrings r so sparkly i was literally like in a trance. omfg.

nick was soo sweet he gave me such a big hug and was so smiley and asked how i was doing, same as chris. he also rested his head on mine when we took our pic togetherrr. he was so so kind.

my show was a monday so they had uploaded a podcast while i was on line for the red carpet, so i listened to that a bit while waiting. this tour we had pre-picked poses, but i did the hearts again. i stood in between matt and chris, and i said i wanted hearts and matt immediately did half the heart and put his arm around me so we did the heart tgth 😭😭

lowk not a fan of this pic either but :( so sweet. i love them so much. i also wore platform shoes this time lol so that gave me some height.

the show was so good! so much more entertaining than what the triplets did the first time. it was very engaging, and so fun to watch. lowk bitter i didn’t get picked to be matt’s teammate but we move. anyway. each challenge was so fun, me and my friend knew almost all the trivia questions they did 😭😭 and jenga was sooo stressful to watch lmfao it was so close the whole time, i think we had one of the longest jenga shows of the tour lmfao. chris ended up winning bc matt dropped the jenga tower and they were both tied. it was such a fun experience im so grateful to have gone !

© mattscoquette

[muffinsin]

Hiya, I'm new to the blog but I've loved everything I've read so far! I was wondering if I could request the Dimitrescu daughters (separately) getting saved by a maiden that they thought hated them? Like, maybe a hunter breaks in + smashes a window and the maiden literally carries (or drags) the daughter to safety and refuses to leave their side until they've warmed up.

Maybe the maiden never actually hated the daughters (like a miscommunication/the maiden having a difficult to read expression), or maybe they stopped hating the Dimitrescus a while ago but nobody noticed? Idk, it's up to you, I just think you'd have a fun take on it :3

I went through the anon lists and hopefully I didn't miss any, so if possible can I be sleepy anon? Please and thank you, and have a great day/week!

Hi :)! I’m happy to hear ya like my works :)🙌 Honestly what a cute prompt!

Let’s get into it :) anon name is all yours🙌

Masterlists

Bela

Bela is, a mystery to you

To her, you seem like an enemy. A staff member, yet with a deep hatred towards her

Perhaps, if you weren’t so pretty and cute, perhaps if she didn’t like you in some strange way she is too proud to voice, you would’ve ended up in the basement already

Alas, Bela keeps you safe and only puts you in your place when your work isn’t done properly. She thinks you should consider yourself, lucky

To you, she seems like an uptight boss bent on punishing you for every little mistake

You wonder, what have you done for her to be this obsessed?

She notices every little mistake you make

A true perfectionist, you realize soon enough, and it bothers you to no end

But, unlike her interpretation of you, you don’t hate her. You don’t even really dislike her

She’s just..uptight, a little bitchy, yes. But she’s smart, you’ve come to notice, and quite obviously she is breathtakingly beautiful

Perhaps, if both of your false views and interpretations of one another were out the way, you’d have talked sooner

You would have liked to start a conversation with the supposedly dangerously intelligent and cold eldest daughter of Alcina Dimitrescu

Bela, on the other hand, would have liked getting to know you sooner

Still, she only ever sees false hatred in your eyes that is truly mere curiosity

She has never been all that good at reading people’s emotions

Their intentions? Yes, their facial features? Yes. But still, her books cannot teach her to fully understand humans, people, it seems

It’s a fatal misunderstanding on both your parts, one that this day will clear up, it seems

The day, while not being an ordinary one at all, is not all that unusual to Bela. An uprising, again, though somewhat cute in numbers

Four maidens. Bold, or perhaps only desperate enough, to dare fight back

It’s a pointless fight, a squabble she doesn’t even bother notifying her sisters about

Even with the many knives and utensils scattered around them in the kitchen, the fight seems pointless

That is, until Bela easily dodges a pot that smashes into the fragile window behind her

Immediately, she screams in pain at the cold air rushing in

The three remaining troublemakers spot their opportunity instantly, so it takes less than seconds for the other kitchen windows to be shattered

Bela grits her teeth, one arm wrapped around her protectively, her other hand clutching her sickle

She refuses to tell her sisters. Refuses to allow Mother to hear of this. She can do this! She can’t cause her family trouble. Cassandra would have never let this go on. Daniela would have killed them in seconds. Bela should have never let it come this far, should have prevented the window from breaking..

Throwing herself back into her battle, she strikes one down, but pays the bitter price when two steak knives are sliced and thrust into her thighs

Immediately, she falls, her blood gushing, her limbs aching and as if on fire. The cold immediately finds the large gashes and digs through. The blades of the knives seem icy cold like the terrain outside

She manages to knock one down with her, but as the back of her hooded head hits the windowsill, her vision begins to blur

One more

She tries to call out for Cassandra, hoping, pleading, Mother will hear nothing of this

To her surprise and horror, she finds she can’t reach her sister, too far away for her weakened swarm to detect

She grasps for her weapon, but can’t detect it. Was it lost when she fell? She can’t remember, but tastes her own, foul blood in her mouth

With difficulty, she sees the maiden’s lips moving. She can’t make out what she’s saying, but her expression enough is sufficient to allow her to assume it must be some kind of insult

Pride, cockiness, a human’s downfall

She watches as, seemingly out of nowhere, you stand behind her, bringing Bela’s abandoned sickle down at her neck

It’s messy, and rough, but enough for the woman to drop her weapon and scream. Enough to fall to her knees and enough for Bela to finish her off

Golden, unfocused eyes meet yours. She looks unsure. Worried. Confused. Cold. Hurt. Scared

Never did you think Bela Dimitrescu would feel such things. Never did you think you would truly see a glimpse of humanity in her

But, you have…

You have seen her eyes squint when she laughs with her sisters, seen the faintest hint of a blush and happiness hidden beneath pride when being praised by her mother. You have seen her playful annoyance aimed at her youngest sister

When you close in on her, her first instinct is to lean in. Then, nearly within that same moment, she snarls and pushes herself harder against the cold wall

You hate her. She has no reason to believe you are not part of this attack, or at the very least are now that her weakness is so pathetically displayed

But you don’t approach predatorily

With your hands raised, you gently move closer to her

She watches you closely, her golden eyes watchful even as her body trembles

Slowly, you unwrap the sleeping robe from around you. Is it this late already? Bela hadn’t noticed

The material is thin, but the action shows your intentions nonetheless, and so she allows you to lean into her personal space

A small, quiet gasp passes her lips when you pick her up. Automatically, she sets her hands on your shoulders and wraps the robe tighter around herself

With her vision blurry and the foul taste in her mouth, her bloodied, non functioning legs and aching arms, she doesn’t protest when you keep holding her up and close to you

Your warmth is…comforting

Bela winces a little. She doesn’t want to look up at you, doesn’t want to ruin this perfect moment

After all, when she does look up, what will she see? Hatred? Annoyance? Cockiness?

You pass the fireplace, walk up the stairs

She clings tighter to you, but there are no others in the hallway

All staff members know better than to leave their rooms at nighttime, and even more so in winter, when it is known the residents of castle Dimitrescu are more on edge and easier to irritate

After a little while she notices where you’re taking her- her own room, her safe harbour

She extends an aching arm and closes her fingers around the door knob, helping you open the way inside

She wonders; have you ever been in here? What do you think?

Despite her annoyance, Bela manages to bite down a curse when her cheeks heat up a little

Secretly, perhaps, she wants you to like her room

And like it you do

Bela is every bit the perfectionist you knew she is

But, there is beauty in this

Her shelves are organized neatly. The books placed in them tell you the woman in your arms is fond of just about everything

Information and documentaries of a vast range of topics can be found, from hobbies to animals, to biomes, to sciences

Her bed is made and her nightstand is nearly empty, save for the storybook placed on it

It isn’t opened and sports no mark or so

You assume she hasn’t touched it in a while, but somehow, you correctly guess that it’s meant for the few times her sisters sneak into her room and the story calms their anxious minds

When Bela looks up at you eventually, she gasps quietly at the softness found in your eyes

She stays quiet as you set her down on the bed, doesn’t even wince when you brush aside her hair to have a look at the nasty cut on her head

With the heat of the room, the wounds begin healing slowly

And still, you fuss over her

She hopes you don’t take notice of her dusty pink cheeks and wide eyes when you press your sleeve to her forehead

Your subtle smile tells her differently

Cassandra

She hates you, you’re sure of it

And you hate her, she’s sure

After all, why else would she dump dead, stinking deer in front of your room every single morning?!

Why else would she do this to you and no one else!

Why is she tormenting you? What have you done to her!

After all, why else would you dispose of her beautiful gifts every single morning?

You must hate her!

She feels stupid for gifting you her finest meat every day, but can’t stop, either

Perhaps she can yet woo you, after all

But you dump it off to the kitchens every time! Not even back to her! The kitchens! For common staff!

You must hate her…!

When you pass her in the halls, you do your best to avoid eye contact. Were you looking at her, you would notice her doing the exact same thing

Despite her hatred for you, you are curious about her

She’s beautiful, there’s no question there

With chocolate-coal-brown hair that easily falls down at her shoulders, sometimes curled, at other times straightened, her golden eyes you only sometimes dare gaze upon

She has one lazy eye, and you find it’s the cutest thing in the world. Her features are stunning and you regularly fight yourself to avoid staring at her

At night, at times, you can’t help but wonder what this beauty of a woman would be like curled against you

Her pale, snow-white skin pressed against yours, her face tucked away by your neck, your arms tight around her

Sometimes, you bitterly remind yourself; she would strike. Bite down at your jugular with all her might and drain the life from you

But, perhaps even happily so, you would allow her to

Despite her hatred of you, she has you wrapped around her finger

Despite your hatred of her, you have her wrapped around your finger

A raid at the castle marks the time both your lives are about to change

Raids are, by all means, hardly unusual

While they aren’t everyday happenings, all residents and staff of the castle, even the villagers, know of the foolish men and sometimes women attempting to break into the castle every few weeks or months or so

None are successful, but it seems this never dampens their spirit

But, there is protocol

And so you find yourself hiding in the only room closest to you at the beginning of the raid: the armory

The very armory occupied by Cassandra Dimitrescu

You know protocol, you know to hide in the nearest room, lock it even, and wait it out. Protocol never mentions the case being in which a Dimitrescu sister is near

You hold your breath, but it’s no use. She notices you immediately, and given the current raid at the castle you ought to be happy she doesn’t automatically strike you down

Instead, she holds your gaze for a moment. Your eyes meet a dark gold, more beautiful than anything you have ever seen before

You don’t notice you’re holding your breath until she stretches her arm out, her gloved fingertips pointing towards the back of the room

You understand instantly. A hiding spot, as instructed. Of course

Even as you slide between and behind the large barrels, hide behind the suits of armor standing at the back, you can’t help but keep your eyes lingering on her

Her back is smooth, her hips surprisingly slim

She looks regal, yet lethal in the way her fingers twitch and she grasps the weapon tighter every few seconds

Soon after you’ve slipped into your hiding place and Cassandra started sharpening her weapon- you briefly wonder why it is she stays with you, rather than throw herself into the sure fight happening somewhere in the castle- when you begin hearing shouts ahead

Then, you see them, two men, as they burst into the armory

They’re broad shouldered and sport brown hair and a brown, stubby beard. Thick noses and burst lips adorn their faces. They’re twins, and judged by their clothing, hunters stemming from the village

You hold your breath and shrink against the suits of armor and barrels surrounding you

They sneer at Cassandra, their weapons- two machetes, one each, drawn. They’re wholly focused on her

If they’ve seen you, they pay you no mind at all

Cassandra doesn’t wait for one of them to attack. Instead, you watch as she throws herself into battle

Swarming halfway and masterfully avoiding all incoming attacks from the two intruders, she catches one’s neck with the end of her sickle and reaps chunks of the other man’s clothing and skin from his ribs

You watch as blood forms and drops fast. The man splutters uselessly, stumbling back while the other, though injured, tries to fight back

It becomes clear to you now, why Cassandra is known as the best huntress at castle Dimitrescu

Despite her impressive display, your eyes press shut when the injured man stumbles in your direction

Again, he doesn’t seem to take notice of you, and yet you don’t dare move

Then, a loud bang forces your eyes open and a scream from your lungs

But you are not the only one screaming, and so you are lucky enough to be unnoticed again, for…

Cassandra’s scream was the one outweighing yours, you realise

The woman screams and shakes, her hood torn off to reveal teary eyes and her beautiful, pale skin breaking off slightly

Behind her, you notice the crack in the wall now a large gap. It must have been caused by the explosion you’ve heard

She’s still fighting strong, having finished the already weakened man bleeding out near you

Still, you grit your teeth and watch with wide eyes as the machete of the other connects with her arm. At first, she howls in pain, the noise so desperate and pure you almost cry

Then, the limb falls. You watch as it falls from her and breaks off into what must be hundreds of little flies that curl in on themself as the cold wind touches them

You grit your teeth when the woman stumbles backwards, her back dangerously close to the large gap in the wall. If she was to fall…

The man seems to have the same idea, pushing and swinging his machete around like a madman trying to make her back up into the gap

You decide you can’t bear to stand idle while her fate may be sealed

Slithering from behind the armor and barrels, you yank the other machete from the dead man’s tight grip

In a smooth, albeit difficult swing, the sharp blade meant for monsters connects with the man’s exposed neck, just where Cassandra struck him before

His head tips to the side as he collapses, and you drop the weapon immediately

Cassandra groans and growls madly as you near yourself and push her weak arm wielding the sickle aside

She reminds you a little of an animal with rabies, the way she shakes and growls, and you hope you don’t pay the bitter price for your care

Still, you wrap your arm around her slim hips and pull her towards you, wary of the large piece of broken off wall behind her

She doesn’t fight you, merely keeps on growling and- crying? You can’t be too sure. You didn’t take her for one to cry, but then again, you wince when you nearly step on what used to be her arm

Carefully, you scoop the unmoving flies from the floor and into your pocket

The woman is clearly out of it, her lips parted and sharp, fang-like teeth on display as she snarls and growls over and over again, her screams quiet, but almost banshee like in their shrill tone

You wonder; is she trying to reach her sisters with it? If she is, it’s entirely too quiet and weak of a scream, you decide

You take another gamble and hook your free hand under her legs, promptly lifting the woman into your arms

Again, she snarls and shakes, but makes no move to attack you

That is, if you don’t count her sharp, bloodied nails of her remaining hand digging into your shoulder

And still, you can’t bring yourself to believe this is meant to be an attack

You carry her out the library and the only place you know to be warm; the kitchens near the grand dining room

Cassandra relaxes significantly as you move her to the room, the warm fires and steam warming her sore body

Still, you don’t dare let go of her

When you hold your breath, you realise; she’s almost..purring? That can’t be right

The next thing you realise are the flies, previously unmoving, buzzing in your pocket

You set the woman down on a clear part of the table and retrieve one of them, smiling as it buzzes in your hand

You place a gentle kiss to it, not unaware of the small gasp coming from Cassandra, and release it. Immediately, it returns to the stump where her arm used to be

You repeat the process, kissing flies as they return to her

Cassandra’s thankful for the cold still in her body, for it’s at the very least suppressing her growing blush

You feel her lean against you and cant help but wonder;

Perhaps, she doesn’t hate you

Maybe, you don’t hate her

Daniela

Daniela is almost 100% sure you hate her

You never react to her sly smirks, her cute giggles, the sweet hand resting on your shoulder!

She has tried flirting with you for ages, and nothing!

You’re never rude to her, actually- you’re very kind to her!

You always bring her a flower when your work in the gardens is done

You always braid her hair for her and brush it out after

You make sure her room is clean and her bath is full of bubbles and delicious scents

You always smile when you see her

So why haven’t you kissed her yet!

She doesn’t understand

She’s thrown you so many signs! All she could. But you haven’t acted on a single one

She thinks, you must hate her

And you?

You’re a little…clueless

You like her, so very much

You lie awake at night, your mind occupied by the beautiful, auburn haired woman that regularly visits your dreams and thoughts alike

Sometimes, you dare dream

Could she be yours?

Could you make her happy?

Could she want you?

But is she not with others? So many stare when she passes, you hear the hushed voices either insulting, or praising her

She’s a goddess residing in this castle; what chance have you got?

You try to be close to her, yet never too close

You don’t want to disrespect her, never

You care far too much about her for such a thing

Then, one day, there is an attack

Lycans, they say, a stray pack headed from the village and led by their prey directly to the castle

Of course, the staff is immediately brought and locked away for safety

You are less lucky, having insisted the day prior you’d like to clean out the library

After all, this is where Daniela is known to spend her days…

Now, separated from the other staff members, you have little choice but to stay put

You try your best not to glance at Daniela, who stands with her sickle held tightly. She too heard the alarms, it seems

You grip the fire poker, your eyes still trained on the floor

You wonder; if you looked at her, could you ever advert your eyes again?

It seems, there is little to no time for you to dwell on this thought, for a loud bang and a snarl is all you hear when the door to the library is ripped from its hinges and a furry snout peaks through

Before you have time to react, Daniela grips the lycan already

You watch as she works, no, plays with the wild animal

She spins it and giggles, grips and yanks, breaks and slices

The beast only snarls at her, yet can’t even hope to land even a single claw on her

All goes well, you don’t even think you need to make use of your improvised weapon

Even the snarls and screams from the outside dull. They’re retreating, it seems

Then, however, a gasp is ripped from you when the beast pushes against you. Whether it did it on purpose or was knocked against you, you can’t tell, but you do realise one thing; you’re falling

Hoping to catch yourself, you reach out to grab all within reach

Only, unfortunately, is that a lever

In the next second you feel icy cold wind come down at you and hear the piercing scream of the auburn haired woman next to you

Your hand stretches out, your lips parting as you scream a warning that comes too late

She’s knocked back by the force of the lycan’s gigantic paw swiping at her, thick claws dragging through her dress and soft, pale skin

You feel ill as blood pools at her stomach and the sickle falls from her

She kicks the animal away, yet it looks, and sounds, as though each move only pains her so much more

You realise your own mistake fast and quickly work on shutting the windows again, her scream and your own blood pumping loudly urging you to work faster, faster, faster

When you look to the side, she’s barely sitting up, her bloodied hands and arms desperately shielding herself against the creature

You don’t think, can’t think, won’t take the time to think now

With the fire poker gripped tightly in your hand, you charge

You scream, and it’s met with a pained howl

Thankfully, Daniela must have injured the creature enough for a simple, powerful strike to its heart to finish it off

And still, you feel your uniform slip from you and the nasty, aching pain of the large slashes made at your back

You grit your teeth, ignoring the mark the creature has left on you even as its foulness enters your body

You turn Daniela to find her bloodied and shivering, her flies dropping, her skin seemingly switching between breaking and healing itself

Again, you don’t dare waste time

She watches you through a blurry haze as you wrap your arms around her. She almost tastes your scent

It takes everything not to taste you

She feels her wounds, the pain she has almost forgotten all about. What is pain? This is a nasty reminder

Next she’s lifted to you, her fingertips and face nuzzling your warm skin

You feel her move to you, as close as she could, and all but grant her this

You know now what happened, what you have caused her

And you’re set to fix it. You won’t allow a stupid mistake, an accident, to be it for her

Daniela shivers still as you pick her off the floor and rush through the halls

Yet, all she feels is you. Your warmth. Your heartbeat, loud and close against her ear. She loves every moment of it

She isn’t sure where you bring her at first, until she finds herself set on her bed

When did she get here? She can’t tell. Black dots appear in her vision and her stomach feels slick with blood even as it starts closing up again

You gently cup her cheek, your eyes, so beautiful and worried, checking her over

You notice the little cuts on her face heal and shut nearly instantly, whereas bruises caused by the cold wind stay stubbornly in place

Perhaps, if the cold hurts the woman, the heat could help her, you figure

Daniela whines when you move from her and for a moment you feel your cheeks heat up. Her fingers entangled with yours, her golden eyes wide and hopeful

She doesn’t want you to go. Not now. Even if you hate her

And really?

Neither do you

You only wish to hold her close, to protect the precious creature held so close to you

You wish to cup her face and stroke the soft fingers holding onto yours so sweetly

You want nothing but to nurse her back to health, to know her, really know her

To be here

To make her yours

You watch, the truth laid bare in her eyes. No flirty smiles you don’t understand, no hidden meanings behind words you can’t understand

Her feelings, exposed and shown to you in her bright, golden eyes

You lean down as gentle as you can, and even more so, you press your lips to the flower tattoo adorning her forehead

“I’ll draw you a bath, it will warm you up”, you whisper. Then, you promise:

“I’ll return, iubita mea”

[fluffyartbl0g]

Redraw of the panels that SHATTERED MY HEART o(；△；)o!!! OG panels + Opinions on the Luffy separation arc under read more

Okay let me just go on a tangent about my feelings about the post-series Luffy separation arc, cause I think it gets way too much hate when it’s such a heartbreaking and well executed deviation from oda’s standard formula!!! I know that we all love monkey d. luffy and he’s LITERALLY the main character of the series, but it was also really nice to get more time to focus on the rest of the crew. But here’s the thing, even when Luffy wasn’t here, he was still here. And I’m not talking about the so called ‘blessings’ or whatever that kept SUSPICIOUSLY popping up around the crew when Luffy disappeared, I’m talking about the consequences that arised from him disappearing. We truly got to see how grand the effect luffy has had on the world around him, and how many lives he was able to touch ; - ; So even though luffy physically wasn’t present (I mean KIND OF but you know what I mean), this was still VERY MUCH a luffy arc imo. 

Oh man but I think Oda wrote luffy’s disappearance so well,,, I was sobbing for like 80 percent of this arc. Like just gradually seeing the crew’s deterioration as time passes by,,, but everyone has such unwavering faith in their captain, he HAS to come back cause Luffy always comes back. But here’s the thing, Luffy didn’t know what was happening to him when he started disappearing. But what he DID know is that he wasn’t sure if he was gonna be able to come back or not. And Luffy hates breaking promises- he’d never make a promise if he didn’t plan to keep it, and he’s not an idiot either, so when he just felt himself disappearing and saw zoro nearby... Instead of saying something like “I’ll be back!” and potentially making his crewmates wait for him forever, he tells zoro to “take care of the crew”... SOBBING AND CRYING T - T. So YES. the crew has unwavering faith in their captain. But. Luffy didnt say that he’d be coming back or anything. So what are they supposed to do really.

And it’s really hard to read at some parts, like it never loses the goofy tone that has been there throughout all of one piece and it’s really sweet to see everyone rely on each other to keep one another afloat, but the slight tension that keeps building up over the months while they keep looking for clues and answers... And how each lead keeps becoming a dead end... When it builds up and Usopp finally voices the thing that’s on everyone’s mind.

Oh man. I started crying so hard. It took 6 month for any one of them to say something. Like this is One piece. Of course Luffy is gonna come back eventually, it would be waay too dark otherwise... But Idk man, even I started to doubt that :((( But luckily. THIS IS ONE PIECE. So right after everyone started,,, well not exactly losing hope or anything (maybe a bit)? but going BATSHIT INSANE FROM THE REALITY THAT THEIR CAPTAIN MIGHT BE GONE FOR GOOD, they finally got a solid actual clue of what might’ve happened to luffy!!! And I’m SO GLADDDD!!!!

Omg and when they tracked down the pray-pray no mi user and finally got some answers out of him. OMG WAIT A MOMENT I REALLY LIKED IS WHEN PRIEST GUY IS LIKE “urerheg without luffy up there as a god the entire world may very well be destroyed cause the sun has been super unstable for centuries blah blah” and then Nami freaking PUMMELED THE GUY AND SHOVED HIM DOWN WITH HER STAFF AND

SOBBING CRYING SOBBING. THEY WOULD POTENTIALLY BLOW UP THE ENTIRE WORLD IF IT MEANT THAT THEIR CAPTAIN WOULDNT HAVE TO BE LONELY ; - ; KILL ME.

URGH I was really hoping that Luffy would return right once they beat him up cause I really really missed my boy, but honestly I think the final method of getting Luffy to return was super clever and absolutely worth the extra 3 weeks of waiting!!! I know that it was foreshadowed across the whole West Blue Saga and everything but I honestly had no clue it would end like that, DONT MAKE FUN OF ME :(((

When the crew finally got their captain back after 8 months of waiting... I mean they’ve been separated before for even longer periods of time, but they always knew that they’d be back together. This time they didn’t know. BUT AREHAHRGE ALL THE PAIN AND SUFFERING WAS SO WORTHIT WHEN THEY ALL FINALLY REUNITED T - T!!!!!! UWAHHWHAHWUAAGGHA!!! AND SEEING ALL THEIR ALLIES AND FRIENDS THEYVE MADE JUST CHEER AND CRY WHEN THEY HEAR THE NEWS!!!! I WOULD CHUCK ALL THE PANELS HERE IF I COULD BUT ID JUS T REACH THE IMAGE LIMIT BECAUSE ALL OF THEM MADE ME CRY ; - ;!!! Literally just read those 5 chapters in the arc finale cause,,,, man so good T - T

Anyways TLDR: The post-series luffy seperation arc is NOT BAD and you guys are JUST COWARDS AND LIARS!!!!

[pedge-page]

I'm new to ur page idk if this is done but I...I want Joel to piss inside a plushie....

Puddles - a Plushies x PK drabble

Notes: I've been waiting to write this one so here we go! Can read more plushies!Joel through Plushies Series masterlist, though they can all be read as standalone fics

Warnings: Pisskink!Joel, piss kink, Drunk!Joel, solo masturbation with a stuffed animal, yes he is pissing inside poor plushie, plushie fucking briefly

18+ ONLY

- - - -

He may have gone a little bit overboard when Tommy invited him for the crew’s so-called ‘happy hour get together’. He knew they all liked to go out and celebrate with a few drinks after completing a project, and this last one they just wrapped up for some posh client with outrageous requests was no different. 

Joel usually liked to skip out on them. First, because he didn’t want to know what these clowns might be up to when they get tipsy, letting whatever sober-less things go on follow his mind to the next job site. But also because he’s getting too old for that college level shit. Hangovers aren’t nearly as fun when you’re pushing well past middle age. 

But, he didn’t want to be home alone since you were going to be working late.

So, two beers turned into twelve and a few more various alcohol spiked beverages here and there, and boom. Joel’s swaying side to side along the sidewalk with Tommy guiding him all the way up the front door.

“You sure you don’t need me, brother?” Tommy asks hesitantly. 

Joel, with lolling eyes and a grin, confidently waves him off after successfully entering his key into the door after 6 tries.

He stumbles through into the dark alone, and the first thing that hit him is how badly he wants to curl up on your plushie filled bed. He thought about you all night; your shampoo filling his nose when you cuddle him, the smooth streak of your naked back when you finish a shower, the wet indulgence of your pussy when he eats you out.

He’s never going to admit it, but the man is clingy as shit when you’re around. And he’s craving some much needed plushie pussy time.

Shit, the alcohol is really swimming in his brain. 

And, he realizes, with a firm and shiver-some squeeze to his crotch, elsewhere in his body. 

Ironically, the bathroom is not what beckons him.

With a devious smirk, he instead tumbles into the bedroom. Through the moonlit drapes, a wave of beady eyed babies stare back at him.

“Hello freaks,” he chuckles. They probably miss you too. Honestly it’s really rude, if you think about it, the way you abandon your buddies here AND Joel all in one night? Atrocious behavior. Someone ought to teach you better.

“Daddy’s home."

He falls forward, his knees catching the edge of the bed. An array of colorful volunteers practically jumping up and down at his presence to be engulfed by the precious aroma of Joel Miller.

That’s how drunk-Joel is seeing it. In reality, if they could run for their fluffy lives, they would. 

A quick hand snatches one yellow blob by its neck. His eyes struggle to get a clear picture—whether from the alcoholic haze or the darkness obscuring his vision. Possibly both. The dark bill and flappy arms come into focus.

“Duck,” he muses to himself. “Bet ya name is Duckie, some shit like that. She ain't good with the namein.” He rolls the unfortunate one over to its back, inspecting its caliber. Its definitely older: matted fur smushed down in certain areas, lack of vibrant coloring, some faded and torn edged fabric on its bow tie. Bitty holes sewn up here and there with mismatched (and poorly seemed) threaded needle. Your college waitressing job used to be for a place called the Quavern, so this little guy’s gotta be your graduation farewell from that team.

“Well mister Quakers. You n' me gonna get to know each other real well right now. Got something I need ya to hold f’me,” Joel slurs. One hand frees the button of his jeans while the other begins to prod at a loose tear in poor DuckDuck’s underside. He pokes and prods and scissors a little too harshly with his sausage fingers before a tell-tale rip echoes in the room. “Oops,” he chuckles with very little guilt as he forces the hole a bit wider and palms his crotch a bit harder. 

Yeah, he gets hard when touching your stuffed animals. He can’t help it! With all the naughty activities you do with them, they’re practically hug buddies by day, sex toy by night. His mind feels foggy, but the building sensation along his lower stomach is the only thing churning his actions. With a few lazy pumps, Joel slots his mushroom tip at the cottony hole he’s made in the poor plush. He pushes through, groaning with his head tossed slightly back as dry softness envelops his pulsing length. 

“Shit—that’s it. Take it little guy.” He bites his lips and peers below, watching his dick penetrate the stuffed animal.

He knows he should put it down, sew it up, put it back, and go do his business in the bathroom like a good, well trained boyfriend. But then again, he knows how fucking pissed you’ll be if he defiles your plushies again. Then you’ll never leave him unattended at home, and that means more pussy drinking and rubbing on these fuckers for him.

Joel doesn’t even realize he’s pissing inside the poor animal until it starts to sag heavily with the weight and wetness coating his hand. “Ooohhhhhhhhhh,” he gasps with furrowed brows. As his bladder empties, the duck grows damper and darker, the fur and cotton soaking it up from the inside out until it’s dripping down his ballsack.  He thrusts inside a few times, the warm wet sensation making him choke out a curse. It’s not quite like your pussy, but the heat is better than nothing. He pushes it flush against his pubic bone, another rush of liquid hissing through and muffled by Mr Quack’s soft innards.

If he wasn’t so fucking wasted right now, he’d fuck it into oblivion. give it the good ol'Miller beating. Fertilize its eggs, if you will. But with his bathroom situation now relieved, Joel yanks the thing off and chucks it to the ground. His brain collapses just as he falls towards the bed, drowning in his own much needed slumber.

-

you shake your head and laugh, hands on your hips at the sight in front of you.

Joel’s out cold face forward in your bed. His jeans are loosely wrapped around his hips and his old tee still on, so if it wasn’t for his loud snoring, you’d assume the man was dead. He hadn’t even made it fully on the bed, his tip toes still holding him up on the floor and legs dangling at an angle.

A few of your stuffed animals had managed to crawl out from underneath him, scattered around when he most likely dropped onto the bed. You pick them up one by one: dusty Carly the Crow, the now famed Mr Oinkers (with battery pack turned OFF), Whiskers the Cat, and poor old Puddles the Duc—

Your disgusted screech has Joel sitting up so fast he nearly capsizes off the bed. The confused, hungover lump is met with his bewildered and screaming girlfriend who’s yanking him by the neck and wringing him viciously with as much might as you can muster.

“STOP—FUCKING—PISSING—IN—MY—PLUSHIES!” You roar with wild eyes and gritted teeth, choking him within an inch of his life. You shake his neck up and down like you’re going to hammer his head into the bed post. 

It takes him a moment, with wide eyes and hands wrapped around your wrists, before his gaze lands on the poorly discarded evidence of last night: a very overly yellow duck soaking into the floor boards in a puddle of liquid gold.

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow

[glitch-karma]

Can I request another part of your "forgetful reader" headcanons you did but with Jouno, Fyodor, and Ranpo? Nikolai too if that's not too many characters, but dont worry about him if it is. Same prompt but with these characters

I was actually just thinking about my forgetful reader hc's the other day, Idk if other writers do this but I always go back and read my older stuff lmao

So here's part two, I had a bit of trouble figuring out what Nikolai would give his partner as a gift, so that isn't specified, I did add Chuuya and Sigma though

Cw: Degradation/name calling in Jouno's, Slightly spicy in Fyodor's, Kinda OOC Fyodor

Jouno

Low-key high-key an asshole

Don't get me wrong I'm in love with him,

But his love language is degradation (hot)

Jouno constantly is making fun of and being rude about how forgetful you are

If it seriously bothers you, he'll try his best to lay off as much as possible

Only because it's you though

He does get very irritated though

He got you a lovely set of earrings that resembled his a bit

They were honestly very nice and semi-expensive

You had always kept them in a tiny jewelry box on your nightstand

But after a rough day of trying to catch terrorists, you'd clumsily taken them off and fallen asleep

When you were getting ready for work the next morning, you realized they'd gone missing

In a panic, you tore apart your apparent in search of them

After a while, you heard a voice that made you wanna puke

"What's up with you huh? Why's my little troublemaker so frantic?"

Oh my lord no

"What are you talking about.?"

"Oh please, your heartbeat is a dead giveaway. Along with the shakiness in your voice. Can't hide from me y'know."

You shakily sighed as you admitted you'd lost the earrings

"Pft- are you kidding?"

He laughed slightly walking towards you

"How pathetic of you, losing a gift from your precious boyfriend?" He sighs in 'frustration'

"They were expensive too, do you even have a concept of money?" He laughs,

At this point, small drops of tears filled your eyes slowly as he kept poking fun at you

"Honestly how air-headed can you get? Tsk, should I be questioning this relationship?"

After a few seconds of silence, Jouno tensed as he heard your quiet whimpers.

He'd gone too far.

For a second, he didn't really know what to do

He sighed, bending down next to you and wrapping his arm around you.

"'m sorry." He mumbled lightly

You sniffled a bit, you looked up to see the concerned frown on his face, along with the softness that was rare for you to see in him

After a moment you sighed, leaning into his shoulder

"I'll get you a million more pairs if it means I don't have to hear you cry again. Truly."

He really was a good man, he just had some issues showing it.

But in the meantime, he'll let you teach him how to open up

I literally love him so much even if he's a dick head

Fyodor

He kinda just doesn't care-

I don't see him as the type to really mind stuff like that in a partner

But I don't really see him doing anything to help per se

He'll give you light reassurance if you're upset, but I don't see him doing too much more though

Surprisingly, he didn't buy you a country

He got you a necklace that was very clearly expensive, it had a key attached to it that was also made of some metal that did not look cheap, along with the small Diamonds and sapphires lacing the key (Real btw you tested it)

It was extravagantly expensive, and he made sure you knew that was less than you deserved (He couldn't find countries on the market)

Wow what a nice gift

Now where the hell did it go?

You, of course, retraced every step

Your apartment? Cleaned vigorously to search and find it

The cafe by your house? You paid every worker to search for it

The Doa office? A wreck

You were ass up on the floor looking under one of the couches when you heard a whistle behind you

When you tuned you saw the man you were scared to see

"Why might you be in such a comprehensive pose my paradox?"

You shakily sighed as you hit your head on the floor

Fyodor then quickly determined why you were on the floor by the necklace missing from your neck

He chuckled a bit as he walked towards you

He leaned down and picked you up, silencing you as he carried you to a basement you were unaware of

Before you could question, he pulled out the necklace, inserted the key into a large door, opening it to reveal a giant glorious room filled with all your favorite things, comfortable chairs, and a giant kitchen

As he set you down you started freaking out

"It's not quite done yet, I wasn't intending for you to lose it so fast. I'll get some help in here as well."

"You- This was all a plan for me?"

You yelled, running around and looking at everything

He chuckled as he grabbed you, leaning down and kissing your neck

"Жизнь моя,(1) you deserve this and more.."

He then threw you on the couch, hitting a button that shut all the doors and windows

"And tonight, I'll prove it to you."

Let's just say, you had trouble walking for awhile

(1) Жизнь моя, pronounced "Zhizn’ moya", means “my life” in Russian and is usually a term of endearment

Sigma

Oh my lord he is so understanding it's crazy

Although Sigma is the furthest thing from forgetful, his brain and schedule will always have room for stuff you need to remember

Got a doctor's appointment you forgot? He remembers and brings you to it

Forgot where you put something important? He knows where it is

Forgot to eat? He'll make you a meal himself

Forgot to meet up with a client? He'll meet them for you

Honestly, he gives you royalty treatment

He loves just giving you gifts in general, so he custom-made you an obsidian necklace that had a poker chip on it, The obsidian in his words was to represent how strong you are, and the poker chip was to remind you of him

It was one of the most thoughtful gifts ever

And you'd lost it

You debated just asking him at first,

But no. Too embarrassing

You'd worn it every day and now POOF

GONE?!

You didn't wanna worry your already busy partner with this

So you tore apart your half of the room before neatly searching through Sigma's half of the room

3 hours later and nothing.

For a second you debated throwing yourself off the sky casino

But then the click of your bedroom door was heard

"Oh my-"

You slowly looked up to see Sigma's confused face as he looked at your side of the room

For a while, he was silent in thought

"Are you.. redecorating-"

You groaned as you fell the rest of the way down on the floor

"I lost your necklace.. I didn't wanna ask you for help."

Sigma chuckles a bit as you look up at him

"That was actually my mistake"

Before you could ask, he walked over to his dresser and opened a small box, pulling it back out

"You'd accidentally left it in the bathroom"

Wow

The one place you didn't check

Definitely cuddles after though

Nikolai

He would not give zero shit's

He just loves you

He might make fun of you a bit, but he honestly just thinks you're adorable when you lose stuff

He asks Fyodor to buy you new things when you lose them rather than look for them-

He has such admiration and genuine interest in you that he gets you gifts tailored exactly to your interests

If you lose a gift from him, he honestly won't be mad

"Awe my Kindred Spirit,"

He grabs his cloak and reaches in, pulling out something even better

"Here does this make it better!?"

"Nikolai!"

He dances around the room with you to celebrate you being happy again

Ranpo

Oh he teases you, shame on you if you think he wouldn't

He gently teases you though, stopping if he gets even a slight hint it upsets you

Ranpo does have amazing patience though, there has never been a moment your forgetfulness has annoyed or bothered him once

He regularly gives you snacks as gifts, but he gave you a silly little necklace with a duck charm (Yes this is a Wan ref)

It was silly and cheap, but it was sweet

When you lost it you were crushed

You looked for it but could not find it

In the morning you went to the agency to try to search for it, but on your way there you actually met with Ranpo at a sweet store

"Hey there detective darlin'!"

He yelled as he ran out of the store

For internally freaked out a bit as he started excitedly telling you about the sale in the store

You chuckled nervously, making him immediately deduce what happened

"Ohhhhh, I see. You lost the Necklace!"

You kinda expected him to figure it out

He then chuckled as he walked over to a small quarter vending machine and pointed at the prizes

"Ya see! We can just keep playing till we get a new one!"

You two then had a small date of finding quarters and playing the Machine till you had a bag full of prizes, and a new duck necklace of course

Chuuya

Although Chuuya is a very understanding person, I can't deny this wouldn't slightly annoy him

He would never make fun of you for it, or make you feel bad though

He will always express that he's not mad at you and does his best to hide his slight frustration

He does understand though, I mean the man didn't remember the first 8 years of his life for years so

He is a little protective of you though. if anyone gave you shit for forgetting something he would a million percent throw hands

He leaves notes all over the house and your hands about important things, he will also text you to remind you about meals throughout the day

"Have you drank water"

"Ah, fuck-"

"Exactly"

Chuuya loves spending money on you

It's his favorite activity

You already have 20 custom-tailored outfits cause of his love for fashion,

But that doesn't mean he can't get you more tailored accessories

One of them was an anklet that had his and your initials in it, along with diamonds and your favorite stone

It was cute, although it was easily hidden by clothes, you wore it very often

You had on the perfect outfit to show it off that day, but when you opened up the cabinet you kept it in, it was gone.

Oh fuck

Panic ensues

The sheets were torn off your bed, and your closet full of clothes from him was searched from top to bottom

The bathroom was also searched along with Chuuya's half of the room

You sighed as you fixed the house, knowing Chuuya hates messes

You then reluctantly called him

"Hey, still at work but what's up doll?"

The softness in his voice made you tear up a bit in guilt

"Chuuya.. I-"

You took a pause to breathe

"I lost the Anklet you gave me."

You heard him gratefully sigh and shuffle in his chair a bit

"That pause made me think you were in trouble"

He joked a bit

"I can buy 20 more of those if I wanted to Sweetheart."

You sniffled a bit

"But that was important!"

He paused a bit

"Are you crying?"

You then paused

"No.."

"Baby."

You could hear him then walk through the halls of the Port Mafia building

"Give me just one sec, "

You heard him then knock on a door and open it

"Hey boss, I need to head home early. Let me know Tomorrow if there's anything else you need me for"

"Alright, I'm on my way home. We'll search together, okay?"

You sniffled a little as you smiled

"You're the best."

"Anything for you Angel."

[astonmartinii]

Heyy! Can I request more vettel insta AU? Honestly I have no preference for the reader I just enjoy reading vettel a lot because of how less we get to see it but I'm happy to discuss suggestions 🤩 hamilton y/n + roscoe, charle's sister anything really

family ties | sebastian vettel instagram au

pairing: sebastian vettel x leclerc!reader

seb may be retiring, but he's not gone from the paddock completely, though the reason is not exactly what you'd expect

ynleclercart

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 110,067 others

tagged: sebastianvettel

ynleclercart: it's been a rollercoaster of a ride but i am beyond grateful to have been able to design helmets for such an icon of the sport. seb will always be missed on track, but if he ever wants to return, he knows where i am <3

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user49 noooo can people stop posting their goodbye posts for seb i'm still in denial

sebastianvettel no one else i'd rather work with, thank you for always supplying the beautiful lids

ynleclercart always - come visit soon

sebastianvettel i'll be there

user12 ^^ this is just digging the knife deeper PLS DON'T GO SEB

charles_leclerc what about your loving and devilishly good-looking brother?

ynleclercart eh, seb is better

user35 most iconic leclerc and it doesn't even come close

ynleclercpriv

liked by charles_leclerc, sebastianvettel and 31 others

ynleclercpriv: sometimes babygirl is a fully grown man who hikes in his free time

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charles_leclerc tell him if he comes to monaco i'm shaving it

ynleclercpriv over my dead body charlie

charles_leclerc that can be arranged

sebastianvettel thank you for the compliment (?) my love, charles stop threatening her or i shall have to intervene

maxverstappen1 get his ass seb

ynleclercpriv max why are you involved in our family domestic?

maxverstappen1 idk seemed fun

sebastianvettel can we all go back to the original point of the post - admiring me?

f1gossipandtea

liked by 2,130 others

f1gossipandtea: seb spotting!! anon sent me this picture of recently retired sebastian vettel in monaco of all places. why do we think he's there?

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user45 my king is looking so good, retirement unfortunately suits him

user10 my sebchal heart tells me that he was there to see charles but it's not likely :(

user09 no let's be delusional

user22 i saw a post that he was later seen with a woman??? a girlfriend mayhaps?

user49 pls no i can't take retirement and a girlfriend in a month

sebastianvettel added to their story

[caption: had to commission the best in the business - thanks y/n]

ynleclercpriv

liked by sebastianvettel, pierregasly and 35 others

ynleclercpriv: goofing around in the wilderness

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sebastianvettel it's not goofing, we're serious hikers

ynleclercpriv sure we are and i'm also a professional boxer

maxverstappen1 y/n can you get seb to come back? it's a shit show here without him

charles_leclerc i agree with him for once

ynleclercpriv lmao they gagged ur ass @lewishamilton

charles_leclerc y/n i'm being serious !!!! he'll listen to you if you ask

sebastianvettel i can literally read all of this

maxverstappen1 so you'll come back?

sebastianvettel nope

sebastianvettel

liked by ynleclercpriv, charles_leclerc and 702,088 others

sebastianvettel: vacation and all that jazz

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user78 seb using instagram like a normal person after retiring, my prayers were heard

charles_leclerc you're 1000% going to be a crunchy dad

sebastianvettel i don't know what that means but i don't think a person can be crunchy

charles_leclerc that's exactly what a crunchy dad would say

ynleclercpriv don't try and trick him with online terminology

user30 i love the domestics in this comment section i didn't know the leclercs and seb were that close

user40 call me a conspiracy theorist all you want but that's defo y/n leclerc

f1gossipgirl

liked by user45, user10 and 404 others

f1gossipgirl: another seb spotting, the german made a surprise appearance in melbourne... and in a ferrari jacket. our sources say that he was accompanied by a woman but he wasn't seen again other than his entrance. do we think seb will watch from ferrari? does he have a new job? does he have a girlfriend? what do you think?

view all 38 comments

user10 omg he's so mysterious but like i need him to be straight up with me right now

user39 my brain: he's probably just there to support, my heart: seb for ferrari team principal

user88 omg imagine seb as team principal helping charles win a championship

user67 so someone commented on seb's post that he might be dating y/n leclerc (charles' sister, seb's old helmet designer and artist) and that would make sense that he'd accompany his gf to support her brother

user11 omg the thought of charles and seb being brother-in-laws

ynleclercpriv

liked by sebastianvettel, charles_leclerc and 35 others

ynleclercpriv: forgive me friends but i am so in love with this man

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charles_leclerc believe me we know

sebastianvettel i love you too honey 🍯

pierregasly where did you get the last photo... asking for a friend

ynleclercpriv it's from norbert - you snooze you lose pear

maxverstappen1 omg parents

charles_leclerc STOP

sebastianvettel i'm not sure we're your parents but yes you can come visit for christmas

charles_leclerc wait i thought we were coming this year

ynleclercpriv more than one family can come at a time - grow up charlie

sebastianvettel

liked by ynleclercpriv, charles_leclerc and 1,023,566 others

sebastianvettel: doing melbourne right

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user45 sebastian... you don't know what a soft launch is

user13 he's an influencer now baby

charles_leclerc i thought social media was stupid ?

sebastianvettel let me appreciate the love of my life in peace

charles_leclerc okay romeo

user19 the last two posts + charles commenting on every post + seb being seen in the paddock IN A FERRARI JACKET = i'm losing my mind

redbullracing can't wait to see you tomorrow champ!

user48 they're fuming he's being seen with ferrari

f1

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 772,303 others

tagged: scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc & sebastianvettel

f1: a familiar face back in the ferrari garage! seb made his return to the scuderia in melbourne surrounded by former coworkers and the leclerc family.

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user48 AND THE LECLERC FAMILY ??? they know what they're doing f1 admin is a seb x y/n truther

liked by f1

charles_leclerc he loves me too much to stay away for too long

ynleclercpriv *us

user38 YALLLLLLLLLLL

user97 i need them to confirm it i love them so much

user21 the way y/n has commented - her account is priv but there's over 1,000 posts HOW MUCH OF IT IS SEB PLS GIVE US THE CONTENT

ynleclercpriv i don't kiss and tell xoxo

charles_leclerc

liked by ynleclercpriv, sebastianvettel and 1,304,778 others

charles_leclerc: congratulations on officially joining the leclerc family seb!! thank you for putting up with me and i expect great birthday and christmas presents xx

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sebastianvettel of course you spoiled this, i love you but you are an unfortunate by-product of my relationship with y/n

user23 CONFIRMATION

pierregasly CHARLES NO

danielricciardo CHARLES NO

landonorris CHARLES NO

maxverstappen1 CHARLES NO

ynleclercpriv YOU FUCKING MORON CHARLES I'M LOCKING YOU OUT

sebastianvettel

liked by charles_leclerc, ynleclercpriv and 2,134,677 others

sebastianvettel: happy engagement to the love of my life, your brother may have spoiled it, but i'm prepared to deal with his annoying ass if i get to be with you for the rest of my life. you make life worth living and i can't wait to explore the world with you x

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user39 when will it happen for me god?

charles_leclerc I'M SORRY I LOVE YOU GUYS THOUGH

maxverstappen1 bagsy flower boy

danielricciardo pleasse let me plan the stag

aussiegrit congrats seb!!

christianhorner congratulations seb and y/n

ynleclercpriv i love you so so so much seb, i'm so glad i met you. you've changed my life and finally showed me what love truly means x

note: omg this post has posted so many times unfinished im gonna lsoe my mind

[beaniegaebie]

i don't really have any solid conclusions about this yet but i noticed A Thing in a rewatch and i haven't found it mentioned elsewhere yet so here we go

(apologies for the appalling image quality you're about to see, i can't screenshot easily rn pls bear with)

OKAY so in the scene where crowley confronts gabriel about "shut up and die", something about the arrangement of book stacks caught my eye a little

the majority of the books are angled so that we mostly just see the page edges and not the spines clearly, EXCEPT for a particularly shiny and familiar colour combo right here-

but nothing too weird going on there, i thought, crowley coloured books in a bookshop so what? right up until i registered crowley's line when we get a closer look-

hhhhmmmmMMmmmm yes yes "everything just the way you wanted" huh, very interesting considering that we know how much thought goes into props huh

and for most of the shots we get of crowley in this position those freaking books are just quietly nestled right there in the corner-

look at that god damn framing i fuckin see you, you glorious bastards

so i paused to see if i could figure out what the hell was up with those fuckers and this is when i absolutely lost my mind, your honour

A and C you say?? in crowley colours???? framed like this?????? localised entirely within your kitchen???

anyway long story short they're two books from an Agatha Christie Crime Collection set (24 volumes, three stories per volume) and guess whats on the mfing front covers I'm-

(its a rant for another post but when paired with this other set of initials spotted in s2 i want to scream actually)

ANYWAY back to the books, through an absolutely unhinged comparison of the formatting of gold text blobs i reckon the two we have here are:

(on top) The Pale Horse; The Big Four, The Secret Adversary

(on bottom) 4:50 From Paddington, Lord Edgeware Dies, Murder in Mesopotamia

(I'm fairly confident but if anyone has a better image to confirm/correct this pls do)

now here is where I'll need a bunch of help from some Christie-heads out there bc I haven't read any of these and I've only seen the tv adaptation of one of them, so i dont know for sure if these are like A Clue, or A Cool Thing, or if I've just fully brainrotted myself into a fun lil corner here? wa-hoo

but here's some initial stuff that jumped out at me after skimming the basics:

(some of) the titles: Pale Horse/Big Four - death's horse ofc, the four horsemen mayb? the them+adam?? ; Mesopotamia is a very biblical choice bbz ; 4:50 From Paddington- azi likes trains i guess? idk that one's tenuous lmao ; honestly no idea with the other two but Secret Adversary feels a tad ominous

iirc Big Four just has kind of an unusual history, it was initially twelve short stories that she later compiled into one, and it was published fairly soon after christie's mysterious disappearance/reappearance

in Big Four, poirot fakes his death at one point and doesnt even let hastings in on it and I'm hoping sure its totally irrelevant to the ineffable bois

part of the Pale Horse story is a group of assassins that basically try to pass off all their murders as being actually caused by like ✨satanic powers✨ which is interesting

christie knew a fUCkton about poisonings thats why she wrote so many into her work and, while i don't believe the poison coffee theory myself, it sure is an interesting link with how cyanide is associated with almond smell/flavour and that metatron chooses almond syrup in particular

(ALSO random side note that is mostly meaningless but I've worked in a good few uk coffee shops and have never worked anywhere that stocks almond syrup; almond milk yes, hazelnut syrup yes, but never almond syrup...? prob just the places i worked though lmao)

EDIT forgotten point: I've seen some speculation that the bently's plate reading "CURTAIN" could be a reference to poirot's last story, along side that alternate scene of crowley ordering the sherry for "miss marple", its just one too many agatha christie references for my melted brain to handle and I'm SUS

so this is where i run out of idea steam and hand it over to you lot because i have no clue what this could mean, if it even means anything other than a cool set feature

is there something here actually or am i yelling into the void just for fun?

who knows, who cares!

[thesoftestpunk]

Will you be mine?

Summary: your crush is starting to become something more

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 6.3k

A/N: This took for-fucking-ever, I'm sorry. I had a 5 month writers block

Warnings: Minors DNI!! If I find out you read this, I'm calling your mom. Lots of making out, dumb sex jokes, first time, smut, oral, piv sex, virgin!Eddie idk if I missed something lemme know. Also reader can honestly be read as plus size. I try to be inclusive.

Pt.1

When Eddie truly saw you for the first time, you were actually giving Dustin directions to the theater department, already late to swim practice, but you nodded along to his excited ramblings about joining Hellfire. You wished all three freshmen good luck and when you passed by Eddie, you smiled. Not even a half-assed, polite smile, but a full one. It’s so out of the ordinary for him that he just gawkes at you with wide eyes until your smile falters a fraction, and you move on. 

It’s been two years since you’ve moved into town, so he’s seen you around school before, but it’s the closest your worlds came to colliding, and in response to that, you smiled. Most people turned their noses up at the sight of him but the harder he thought about it, you never did. Not in two whole years. Even when his hair went through a terrible awkward phase. 

It set his curiosity in motion, unintentionally looking for you any chance he got. It was easiest in class, stuck in the back by choice, but that meant no one was looking at him looking at you. You sat with your friends any chance you got, devoted yourself to them, but anytime they made a snide comment, he saw you withdraw just the slightest bit, eyes drifting and frown deepening. Eddie never liked it when you frowned. In fact, anytime he could tell you were having a bad day, eyes burning with tears, he’d act like a fool in class. At first, you remained nonchalant, eyes drifting like they did with your friends, but the first time he got you to laugh, his heart felt too big for his chest. 

“Again?” Gareth teased when he caught Eddie drooling over you instead of the worksheet in front of him that only displayed the addition of his crooked name and nothing else. 

“I think I like her, man.” Eddie tries to keep his voice low. If anyone caught wind that he liked someone so high on the social ladder, he’d be eaten alive. The teasing over his hobbies he could take, but getting his heart caught on his sleeve and then stomped on made him nervous. 

“You should just ask her out.” Gareth says it so nonchalantly that Eddie can’t help but scoff.

“She’s friends with Christina Whitlock, wannabe cheerleader. She’s worse than Carver and his goons. I’m not going to put myself on the chopping block willingly.” 

“It’s either you ask her out or suffer in silence.” 

Eddie looks at you sitting in the front of the classroom, smiling at something you’ve been told, and his heart sinks a little. 

Then everything shifted after you sat next to him in English that day your friends seemed to be making fun of him about something. At first he thought you did it because you felt guilty, but when you seemed genuinely curious about his tattoos, he let his guard down. Which seemed to backfire pretty quickly. He had to endure hearing you say you didn’t like him, not once, but twice.

When he had lost all hope, you invited him to the pool. He almost didn't go, fully expecting you to turn him down politely, explaining that you were only being nice out of obligation, but none of that happened. When you had expressed your shared feelings for Eddie, he felt unadulterated joy. That was until he kissed you, and it seeped out of his skin, unable to be contained any further. Now, he got to walk hand in hand with you down the halls of the school, giving each other knowing looks when Tina stared the two of you down like she couldn’t believe you would have the audacity to hold hands. 

You always initiated the pda, and he shook off the nerves just to feel the soft skin of your palm against his. He kissed you in private, not wanting any chance of a moment ruined. But you can’t seem to get any privacy for anything more than making out. You’ve come close to the idea of more but that’s all it seems to be. An idea. It’s a lot of getting interrupted in your bed, Eddie’s hand just having slid underneath your underwear and one of you freezing at the sound of the front door. You always proceed to hiss out ‘shit. Someone’s home,’ before the two of you scramble to get decent and when, nine times out of ten, your mother checks on you, you pretend to be studying. 

Despite his -albeit joking- begging, you refuse the idea to do it in his van.

“I’m a bit of a romantic,” you argue. “So I don’t want our first time to be in the back of your smelly van.”

“Okay, it won’t be there.” He promises, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “It’ll be up front.”

You shove him off of you as he laughs maniacally, now beside you on your bed. Taking your childhood stuffed rabbit, you whack him in the shoulder playfully, and he catches it quickly. 

“How dare you use miss hoppity as a weapon!” He teases further. 

“Oh, you’re in for it now, Munson.” 

He screams dramatically when you roll over on him and attack his neck in rapid kisses, making him uncontrollably giggle. He had warned you he was ticklish in some parts, and you quickly learned where for your own personal enjoyment. 

“Uncle! Uncle!” He gasps out between bouts of laughter, even though he loved the feeling of your plush lips against his neck. His beautiful neck that left your mouth watering and legs clenching at the sheer thickness of it. Just more space to place kisses. There’s a moment when he’s calming and you’ve placed both hands on his stomach, neither worrying about your mother coming to check up on the commotion you just caused. You feel him harden underneath you, just like every time you get pulled onto his lap. He can’t help it. The way your legs spread just for him, and how your shoulders relax with ease gets him going. 

“What?” You whisper when he just continues to stare like you’ve told him he’s won the lottery. 

“I haven’t taken you on a proper date, have I?” As he asks, his smile turns downward at the sudden realization. 

“No, but I don’t mind.” You trace a finger from the back of his jaw to his chin and give a little pinch. “I like this time together. Just us.”

“Well, I’d be a terrible–” the words get caught in his throat as he almost says the big word. Boyfriend. Neither of you had broached the subject, and maybe that’s why he’s brought up the fact that he hasn’t taken you out. Whatever this relationship was, he was afraid he was going about everything in the wrong way. He should have taken you out before even kissing you, if any romantic driven book he’s read has told him. “-guy if I didn’t.”

“Okay,” you ignore his fumble, bumping your nose into his. “Take me out then.” You flatten your chest to him to feel the rumble of his victorious laughter, but then you remember where you are, and your bedroom door is open fully. “We need to get up before the guard does her rounds.”

You untangle yourself from him, giggling as he has to adjust himself if your mom actually does make an appearance. 

“This Friday, sweetheart. I’m picking you up at seven o’clock, sharp.”

“I look forward to it.”

***

Eddie says he would still rather not be seen at any school event, but he shows up to your swim practice, fulfilling his promise of being in the closest spot on the bleachers as he’s allowed. He drives you home from every practice, bragging about you to you. It’s selfishly endearing listening to the way he talks about how proud he is of you for how talented you are. The rest of the girls on the team didn’t understand his insistence on catching at least the last ten minutes. Usually he would be meeting with hellfire, but he would try and make it just to cheer you on, even if he was explicitly told not to by your coach. 

“He was here again today.” you hear Christina whisper to one of the girls. “I’m starting to think it’s not just for Y/N.”

“What do you mean?” She asks innocently.

“I mean… it’s kinda pervy, right?” 

“Ugh, totally.” Another agrees. 

A chill runs down your spine at the idea of that rumor spreading. Something in you snaps as you slam your locker door shut before turning to see their shocked faces. 

“Eddie is a gentleman,” you glare at Tina. “I don’t care that you all think I’m a freak too, now that I’m dating him, but you need to remember I’m co-captain. Keep his name out of your mouth, and if I hear any sort of disrespect about him, you’re doing drills until you puke.” 

“You’re only co-captain because you’re the coach's niece.” Christina crosses her arms defensively. 

“The only reason I’m not captain is because of nepotism. He didn’t want you whining all the time, but I work my ass off harder than anyone in this room. You could stand to be a little more humble, Tina, considering how slow you were today.” Your hands shake as everyone looks back and forth between you and Christina like they’re at a tennis match, just waiting for a full on cat fight to break out. “So, do you understand me?”

The locker room is silent as you stare down Christina, challenging her to retort back, but she actually looks flustered and nods. It has the others nodding along in a chorus of agreement. There’s no more chit chat as the girls rush to finish getting dressed. You’re one of the first few to leave, leftover anger and adrenaline making you stomp on your way out. That is until you see Eddie and feel your whole body relax. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says his usual greeting. 

Sudden tears burn your eyes as you rush forward to tackle him in a hug, causing him to stumble backwards a couple of steps. He chuckles, arm coming around your middle as he assumes you’re just that excited to see him. A sniffle gives you away immediately. 

“Hey,” he says softly, pulling away to look at you. His eyebrows draw together in concern as he looks you over, hands on either side of your face to inspect closely. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, yes, I just-“ you wipe your nose with your sleeve, feeling yourself get small. It’s the first time he’s seen you cry, and you don’t want to make him worry about why. “It’s stupid. Can you just take me home?”

“You can tell me.” His thumb moves back and forth over your cheek. 

“Eds,” you let out a wet laugh. “I’m fine.” To prove this, you give him a kiss. “Let’s just get out of here.”

“Alright,” he eyes you warily, and even the door to the locker room, but wraps an arm around your shoulder to walk out with you. 

You’re sour for the rest of the week, not even indulging in teasing Tina about your relationship publicly. Eddie knows you’re in a mood, but he has no idea why. He tries everything he can think of; jokes, the little kisses on your collar bones that make you smile, and more jokes, but you just seem lost in your own world. For a moment, he worries you’re tired of him already and the pressure of being seen with him has become too overwhelming, and for his own sanity, he does some digging. 

It takes bribing four different people. One offer to deal at a party sends him to  Andrew Rickman,  who gets some weed for a huge discount, to send Eddie to his girlfriend, Jessica Armstrong who finally sends him to Janice Freedman and a promise to pass along her phone number to Gareth, and he’s sure he’s figured it out. 

On Friday’s you swim on your own. Eddie knows to leave you be for an hour before entering the pool house to catch you just as you’re towel drying your hair. He doesn’t like wandering the halls to risk getting yelled at, so he waits in his van, blasting music while smoking a joint. 

“Have a good swim?” His arms wrap around your waist from behind, the smell of chlorine invading his nose. 

“Mmhm,” you hum, melting into his hold. You had pushed yourself to relieve the frustration because you didn’t want to ruin Eddie’s date plan. 

“Just ‘mmhm?’” He copied your tone, slowly placing kisses along your shoulder, and up toward your neck. 

“You know you’re not supposed to be in here.” You remind him, voice stern, but he knows there isn’t any anger behind it. 

“Got away with it last time didn’t I?” He spins you around by your hips, making you wonder what’s suddenly gotten him in this mood. Eddie captures your lips, pulling your body flush against his, and tips your head back to deepen the kiss. It leaves you breathless immediately with how desperate it feels. 

“Eddie,” you sigh when he breaks it to move to your neck once more. His ring covered hand slides up your side, cupping your breast and giving a squeeze. It’s a shame he didn’t show up sooner or he could’ve done this when you were wearing nothing but a towel. “Seriously? Here?” 

“No,” he snorts, trying to behave. “I’m a gentleman.” 

“Not with that poking me in the thigh.” 

Before he gets the chance to laugh, someone is clearing their throat, making the two of you jump apart. Tina looks to the side, looking more than embarrassed by the obvious bulge in Eddie’s pants, and your kiss stained lips. 

“T-Tina,” you step in front of Eddie for his sake. “What, uh, what are you doing here?” 

“I signed up for extra practice time.” For the first time, Tina seems small, almost afraid to admit she needed the extra time in the water. “Guys aren’t allowed in the girls locker room, Munson.” 

“I’ll wait outside.” Stiffly, he leans forward to give you a quick kiss on the cheek from behind before rushing out. 

“Sorry,” you apologize before she can berate you for it. “I thought we were alone.”

And strange enough, she doesn’t. 

“I used to sign up for the latest slot so Declan and I could be alone when we first started dating.” She opens up her locker in search of her suit. “Just don’t go making a habit of it. Coach nearly tore my head off. Can’t imagine what he’d do to his niece.” 

“Right,” you laugh sheepishly, but catch a glimpse of the Tina you became friends with two years ago. “Thanks.” 

“Don’t thank me yet.” She hardens once again. “You’re doing drills for getting caught.”

You sigh. Tough Tina was back. 

“Aye aye captain.” 

After you rush out, tail between your legs, you smack Eddie in the shoulder with the sleeve of your hoodie. He flinched back like it hurt, but the smile completely gave him away. 

“You dingus!” You try to keep your voice down, but the shrill tone still echoes around the building. 

“Ow!” He laughs more than he does whine. “I can’t appreciate you for sticking up for me?”

“What?” You stop winding up for another smack. 

“I heard what you did for me.” He wraps an arm around your back, pulling you close so he has to speak quietly. “No one’s ever stuck for me like that before.” 

“Well, I- I was just being honest…” your cheeks burn at the way he looks down at you, one corner of his lips tugging up. 

“Mm, well, I find your honesty extremely hot.” 

“We can not get caught by Tina again.” As much as you wanted to reciprocate his appreciation, you weren’t looking forward to extra punishment for making her endure another shared kiss between you and eddie. “You need to take me home so I can get ready for our date.”

“What’re you gonna wear?” 

“Only if you tell me where we’re going but it’s—“

“A surprise,” he finishes for you.

***

Eddie shows up at your door on time for once. He isn’t allowed to pick you up for school, or else you’d be chronically late for first period. He had told you to dress casual, but you can’t help but grab your short tan pleated skirt to match your white shirt with extended shoulders and a jean fabric vest. (A jest if you will). To top it all off, you wear your favorite beat up sneakers and ankle socks scrunched down. When you hear the knock, your heart skips a beat and you take down the hall, shouting at your parents that you’ll get the door. Your dad beats you to it on purpose, but he’s already met Eddie. They were uncertain at first, but Eddie was polite and followed your house rules. To an extent. It was all a front, and you knew it killed him just a little, but he also knew if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to date you. 

He takes you to a local restaurant, nothing fancy, but also not cheap. you love it either way. It never really mattered what the two of you did together, as long as you were doing it together. He’s a bit quiet as you eat, eyes scanning the room, but after you get him to loosen up, he acts like he owns the place. He leans back in his seat, arm thrown over the back as he heavily flirts with you, not even wondering if the other patrons are staring or not.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbles while fumbling with the crumbled bills when he pays. You know he doesn’t have a traditional job, selling drugs to help his uncle with expenses, and it makes you wonder how much extra he had to sell just to take you here. There’s a pause as he calculates if there’s enough for a tip before slapping the money down and smiling at you to wave off your worry. 

“Eddie?” You gently take his hand after he’s pulled out of the parking lot. “Did you- you know you didn’t have to take me somewhere that nice, right? I would’ve been fine if you made me, like, chef boyardee at your trailer.”

“I gotta make my girl feel special sometimes, right?” He flashes you that confident smile and brings your hand up to place a kiss on your knuckles. There’s a tug in your stomach when he calls you ‘my girl’ and you bite your bottom lip to stave off your sheepish grin. “Plus, the night’s not over yet. I got one more thing for you.”

You aren’t sure what to expect, but when he pulls up in front of his trailer, you feel a bit of a relief. Not because you don’t like being out in public with Eddie, you do, but you constantly worry about someone making a rude comment his way and upsetting him. In the time you’ve known him, though, the insults seem to roll off his back pretty easily, and you’re unsure how he does it. Every insult repeats in your mind for hours after. 

“Give me five minutes.” Eddie leans over to give you a quick kiss on the lips. 

“What, gotta hide all your cum socks before I go in?”

“I’ve got some class.” Eddie’s breath tickles your lips as he doesn’t lean back just yet. “I washed them yesterday.” 

As he gets out of the van, you laugh to yourself, even when he’s unlocking the door and disappearing inside. You stay inside the vehicle, only unbuckling your seatbelt and glance outside the window. The openness of the area combined with how dark it is leaves you a little unsettled. It’s eerily quiet, and you can tell even with the windows rolled up. A lone cricket and distant barking seems to be the only noise going on around. Turning by your torso, you see there isn’t much to the back of his van, bits of carpet pulling up here and there along the seams, a guitar case covered in stickers similar to what’s on his jackets, and ashtrays with cigarette butts and half smoked joints. There’s a rug thrown in the middle, probably to cover a stain or his attempt to class things up. A sharp knock startled you out of observing the burnt orange and red curves and sharp corners. 

“You okay there?” Eddie teases after opening the passenger door for you. 

“It’s scary as shit out here.” You take his outstretched hand and hop out of the van. “It’s way too quiet.”

“Let me lead you to safety, princess.”

Inside, the trailer is lit by the dim lamp in the corner of the living area, but mostly by the scattered candles along random surfaces leading toward his bedroom. The low lighting flickers off the reflection in the mugs lined along the shelves, and shadows dancing along the walls. Eddie leads you down the short hallway before you can even comment on his romantic decor. You’ve gotten a peek of his bedroom in past visits, but the two of you usually would hang out on the couch, so you know he’s tidied it up for you. There’s still plenty of clutter along his dresser and desk, but his floor is clean from any clothes or trash strewn about. 

He stops you at the end of his bed, your calves brushing against the sheets hanging over the side. Slowly, he brings up your hand to place a kiss on the back of your palm, causing you to shudder. A smile grows on his face and you can see it despite your hand being in the way. He lets go to drag the vest off of your shoulders and when it registers in your mind that he wants it off, you move with him, his face getting close to yours when he has to help your fumbling hands through the holes. You’ve been kissed by him a dozen times but when he dips his chin up to connect your lips, your skin burns in a want you’ve never felt before, as if he’s kissing you for the first time. You both move in sync, dipping down onto the bed, and not breaking contact until he’s hovering over you, delight making his features glow, but you can see the small bit of insecurity in his eyes while he seems to gather up his nerves. 

“Will you be mine?” It’s quiet, intimate, barely above a whisper, but leaves his voice graveling deep enough to send a jolt up your spine. “My girl? Each second with you…” he trails off, shaking his head as his lips split into a grin. “It’s a piece of gold, sweetheart. I want you to be mine.” 

“I-“ you huff out a laugh, his bangs moving with the small gust of air. “I thought I already was. Have been since you kissed me.” 

If his grin could get any bigger, it just did, and his body relaxes, his weight heavier on top of you. The next kiss he gives you is all teeth and tongue, before he calms and kisses you proper. Kisses you like you’ve never been kissed before, his lips and the gentle swipe of his tongue erasing all the others that came before. Your giggle is muffled into his mouth, trying to pull him closer than he already was, but there wasn’t any room left. If you could find it within yourself to let go of his shirt, he could be pressed firmly against you, but then you would just want his shirt off, skin to skin, only for that to still not be enough. 

A small moan from you escapes into his mouth when he grinds his hips down into yours, butterflies erupting in your stomach as he does so. His large hands slide up your hips, your shirt coming up with them, and up your ribs until he’s exposed your chest. You hadn’t even bothered with a bra, not entirely expecting the night to go this far. His eyes widen at the surprise, and his cheeks go pink like he’s never had the pleasure of being inches from any pair of tits. Especially a pair like yours, beautiful and on display just for him. His mouth wraps around your right nipple, his teeth sinking into the perked up flesh, and a pained squeak falls past your lips, the sharp sting only working you up more. As an apology, he releases your nipple to swipe his tongue over it in circles, while his other hand cups your other breast, giving it a perfect squeeze. His lips move down, alternating between kisses and biting the soft flesh of your stomach until he’s positioned between your thighs. Looking up, as if asking permission, to which you nod vigorously in agreement, his hands wrap around your legs to rest them on the top of your thighs, fingers digging into the meat as he kisses the inside of your thighs. You can’t help but squirm when he pushes up the fabric of your skirt with his left hand, the one with all the chunky rings, and leaves it there to rest and places one single kiss on your clothed pussy. 

A broken whimper from you gets him into motion, removing his hand from the thigh for a brief moment, moving your panties to the side and licking up you slowly. Eager, he burrows down, his tongue swirling around your clit, nose pressed against your pubic bone, not minding the scratch of the coarse hair. In desperation to hold onto something to steady your uncontrollable squirming and maybe to just find a grip of reality while your mind floats into a high, your hand falls on his that kneads the flesh of your stomach. The lumpy metal digs into your palm, the pain bringing you further back to reality. His mouth, his hands, his heat leaves you for a moment, looking up to the panting mess that you are, and you whine at the lack of touch. One by one, Eddie removes the large jewelry while maintaining eye contact and tosses them to the side before slowly laying back down on his stomach. Slowly his eyes land on your drenched pussy, and you’d feel uncomfortable if it weren’t for the hunger in his eyes. 

“Wait,” you breathe out. Removing the spare scrunchie from your wrist, you sit up to gather all of his hair quickly, apologizing when your fingers get tangled in the curls, and put it all into a messy bun. You don’t even get to soak up the image of his hair being held by something of yours before he’s gently laying you back down, and his mouth returns to his previous work.

His heavy hands hold your already trembling thighs apart. A hesitant finger hovers near your wet entrance, sliding in slowly. You sigh in relief until he experimentally strokes your core, breath caught in your throat and back arching slightly off the bed. Pleading words, begging breaths, you want for more of his hefty fingers inside you, stretching you out for what you expect to be more later. He complies easy, tongue and fingers moving in sync faster, enjoying every moan that falls past your lips. His name is whined out on repeat, each one raising in tone and intensity along with the pressure in your stomach. He laps up the mess you make as you clench around his fingers and fall over the edge for the first, but not final, time of the night. Soft kisses with the intention of being soothing are scattered along your thighs and stomach as his soaked fingers rub your overstimulated clit, letting you catch your breath as you ride the high just a moment longer.

“Fuck,” you huff, a dazed smile following. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

Eddie moves so he’s hovering over you, chin glistening with his work. “Fantasy novels.”

“No, seriously.” With your thumb, you wipe the wetness off of his chin for him. There’s a beat of silence and you realize he isn’t joking. “Wait, seriously?”

“Well… yeah.” 

You sit both of you up, scooting up his mattress until your back touches the wall. There’s the pull of rejection in his chest the further you move away, the absence of your touch and the distance between the two of you sends a message that you don’t want to go further anymore. 

“But you-” you pause, adjusting your shirt so it isn’t exposing your chest. “You… you’re you.”

“That’s the problem, apparently.” The defeat in his voice makes you wince in regret. 

“No, I mean… you’re in a metal band and-” you almost don’t say it. “And I’ve heard… y’know.”

“That I’ll give a discount for putting out?” Amusement flickers in his eyes at that particular rumor. “Okay, I let one girl give me a handy, but that’s it. I’m a massive virgin otherwise.”

“Oh.” Your voice is small, going quiet so you can process what he’s told you. “Well, if you aren’t comfortable we don’t have to.”

“I set up the place for that purpose.” your stomach twists at the image of him excitedly getting ready, lighting the candles to set the mood all with the cute little smile he gets. “Unless you…”

“I’m not.” You almost feel bad for admitting it, but you didn’t regret losing your virginity to someone else. He didn’t seem jealous, just understanding. “And I wouldn’t mind.”

Eddie’s smile grows. “Good ‘cause I bought an entire box of condoms.” Leaning over, he pulls out the comically large box from his bedside table. 

“Were you expecting a sex marathon?” You gawk. 

“That’d be ideal.” 

You shut him up by swiftly removing your shirt and tossing it in his face. He’s quick to pull it off and toss it to the side, but you’re quicker in moving forward, hands falling on his shoulders and pushing him down so he’s on his back. If his hair were loose, you’d be distracted by the halo it created around his bed, but it isn’t. Instead it’s already fighting the scrunchie, his bangs falling down in sparse strands, making him look more innocent than he ever has. Crawling into his lap, you take care in placing yourself directly on his growing hard-on. His hands slide up your thighs to your waist, gripping tightly while you run yours up the entirety of his torso. A couple tugs on the fabric is your way of asking him to sit up enough so you can take it off. Immediately, your eyes land on the one tattoo you haven't had the pleasure of looking at for longer than a few seconds, and slowly you take in the small patch of hair in the middle of his chest. What gets your mouth watering is the thicker patch leading down underneath his jeans. On his back, you can see the peaks of his hip bones leading down to the short valley to his happy trail.

You drag your nails over the thicker patch of hair, smiling to yourself at his sharp intake of air, the upward tilt of his chin from your peripheral, working him up to squirm just as much as you had. He’s a whimpering mess while you only touch him anywhere besides the one place he wants. Desperate, he moves your hips for you, begging for any amount of friction. Almost defiantly, you scoot back, sitting on his thighs instead, and he huffs indignantly. You smirk, bite your bottom lip to keep from smiling fully at his pouting.

“Please,” he begs breathless, hips jutting into the air despite no available pressure from your weight. 

Giving in, you unbutton his jeans, finding the way they pop open satisfying, and tug slowly on his zipper. You can perfectly see the outline of his dick through his tight boxer briefs. You want to take your time, slowly pull his jeans off first and then his underwear, but that flies out of the window when you see just how girthy he is. You don’t undress him in any manner, running the palm of your hand up his length, a long moan filling the room. Leaning down, you kiss his stomach, his muscles jolting in surprise. You slip your hand past the waistband, fingertips brushing against the tip, already dripping at your light touch. Experimentally, you give a light squeeze when you’ve wrapped your hand fully around him. Using his pre-cum as aid, you start slow, his moans coming from deep in his chest. Slowly, you start increasing your speed, dropping kisses along his skin when he seems to get too quiet. 

“Baby, you gotta stop,” Eddie pants. You pull away completely, confusion and hurt covering your features. “No, no,” he takes your face between his hands. “I’m just gonna explode if you keep touching me like that, and I’m not quite finished with you yet.” 

You pause, blink once as heated shock covers your body over the realization. You almost made him cum too fast. Pride fills your chest, and you aren’t sure if it’s a bad feeling to have, but he returns your sheepish smile by grabbing a condom from the box. With fascination, you watch him as he rolls it on, not having had the luxury of witnessing this part. It was too dark or too quick before. There’s a bit of a struggle and you reach out to help but stop yourself, not wanting to take over. 

“Got it,” he smiles. 

“And you’re sure you want to…?” You aren’t afraid, but this is new to him. You don’t want him to be afraid. Everything should be perfect, though you know nothing ever is. 

“Do you?”

“Of course, Ed’s.” Running a hand down his chest to his stomach, to land on his strained cock, you give a reassuring smile. Before you climb back in his lap, he helps you out of your underwear, watching the way you smoothly throw a leg over him and line yourself up expertly without even looking. Raising your brows to wordlessly ask one more time, he answers by resting his hands on your hips, eyes never leaving yours. As you sink slowly down, there’s the familiar burning stretch that causes you to whimper, even more by his girth, but it’s all covered up by his moans. You bottom out, wiggling experimentally while he adjusts to the feeling.

And then you start moving your hips.

Slow at first, grinding your pussy into him, his head falling back onto the mattress and eyes squeezing shut. If he had any nails, they’d be digging into your skin, leaving crescents behind to remind you of this moment later, but his fingers are dull, pushing and pulling you into a perfect rhythm. Leaning down, you press kisses and soft bites onto his neck, your tits flat against his chest and moving with every desperate thrust he gives into you. You support yourself by your forearms, stopping your movements and letting him fuck himself into you. He’s a beautiful flustered mess when you look at him. He opens his eyes just a sliver to catch your smile. 

“Feel good?” You ask, voice soft.

“Mm-hm.” He can’t even speak, brows furrowed together roughly. “‘M gonna—“

“Go ahead.” You place a kiss on his pulse point, swallowing your moans as he thrusts harder, hitting your g-spot. His arms wrap around your waist holding you still, his hips becoming more erratic. “C’mon baby,” you coo. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out, giving a few good thrusts before his hips stutter. You give him a moment to catch his breath, the only sound in the room being his panting. 

Leaning back, you smother his face in kisses, feeling his laughter vibrate underneath your chest. 

“Hey,” you say semi-serious, his soft eyes meeting yours. “You did great.”

“I sure hope so.” He finally slides out of you and you whine in indignation, missing the feeling of him already. 

“You did.” You insist. 

There’s this moment where he almost looks like he believes you and you get this warm mushy feeling in your chest at the realization that you’ve had your first time together. Not in the back of his van but in a lovingly decorated trailer with zero chances of being interrupted. To top it all off, you’re also officially his girlfriend. 

“Sweetheart?” He breaks you out of your revere. “Kinda need you off of me to get this thing off.”

“And then we cuddle.”

He smiles. “And then we cuddle.” 

Rolling onto your back, you realize you’ve still got your skirt on, laughing to yourself as you take it off. You look around and find a shirt, unsure of whose it could be, and slip it on, watching Eddie walk out of the room despite promising to get back in bed. A moment later, he returns with a damp rag, gently spreading your legs and cleaning you up the best he knows how.

“I got it, thank you.” You take it from him gently, getting the spots he couldn’t and hand it back. He immediately tosses it behind his shoulder, hoping it lands in his laundry basket. “Eddie, gross.” 

“No time, my dear.” He crawls in right behind you, pulling his comforter over the both of you so you don’t end up cold. His nose nuzzles into the back of your neck, lips leaving soft kisses on the top of your spine. 

“I can’t sleep over,” you remind him, eyelids already feeling heavy.

“I know.”

“My dad wants me back before midnight.”

“I know.”

A hand snakes over your side, wrapping around your middle to pull you flush into his chest. He breathes you in, the smell of your honey shampoo tingling his senses. 

“Eddie?” 

“Hm?” He sounds sleepy and you know you’re in trouble. 

“We can officially do it in your van, now.”

“Finally,” he teases. 

Tag list: @hesvoid3434 @jane-ways @akiratoro420 @ali-r3n @stupid-infinity (there were a couple of you it wouldn't let me tag, sorry <;3)

[gavisuntiedboot]

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 8

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

Warnings: ANGST! Idk if it's actually that angsty but I made myself sad. Very very brief mentions of kind of hurting yourself but not really? I actually can't remember what I wrote so if I miss something that needs a warning pls lmk

Word Count: 16.0k (fun fact: if you've read the whole series, you've read 105 pages single space)

A/N: y'all it's literally almost 1 am but I need to start this before I get crucified by the cult following I have created with this series. GIF credit @gavidaily

"You... are considering leaving Barca?"

Xavi looked at you with one brow raised. The same girl that had been fighting for her position at the club just 6 weeks prior was now thinking of quitting her job?

"You know Miss y/l/n, we are about to lose Antonio, and with how hard we push our players, we need to retain the largest amount of medical talent possible. You know that we think extremely highly of you and your ability, which is why you were selected specifically for this role. What can we do to make the job here at Barça more compelling than that of other clubs?”

You took a deep breath. You knew this question was coming. You had worked jobs and been in negotiations before. It would be a lot more expensive for them to hire someone new than to just give in to what they predicted would be a demanded increase in pay.

You looked at your lap, sighing with the weight of the feelings you had carried for God knows how long. It had sat on your subconscious, but was now bubbling to the surface, too powerful to be stopped. “Honestly, mister, I don’t think there’s anything that can be done.”

There’s a funny thing about women letting go. Some people call it the severance theory. Men are heavily guided by their emotions, contrary to popular belief. In a fit of rage they are capable of anything: screaming, blows - any number of crimes of passion. So when an extreme emotion overcomes them, be it sadness or anger or fear, they can end a relationship suddenly. Once they return to a base state of logic, that’s when the crawling back and groveling begins. Because they come to realize that her absence is a stronger pain than whatever drove him away. They exist in binary states: zeroes and ones. Either hatred or love. They don’t understand gradients or in-betweens. They don’t understand that there is another person who must also decide to return to the relationship.

Women on the other hand are much more resilient. It’s why we find the most gorgeous muses with the slimiest excuses for boyfriends. A woman will fall in love not with what she sees, but rather what she hears. What she is told. All the flowery, lovely promises about a glowning future, that’s what she clings to in the midst of a gray and bleak present. The soft whispers of “I love you” and “I don’t know how I would live without you” act as bandages, plugging the gaping wounds left by his actions. But her resolve slips the longer those promises go unfulfilled. The longer those holes go unfilled. She begins to see the truth of her situation, and realizes that the road she’s skipped down is a dead end. She imagines once again. She thinks of all the possible ways that he could change and be the man she wants. She searches for glimpses of it in his words, his movement, his aura. She does the silliest, most foolish thing a woman can do: she hopes. She holds on until not even her delusions can be a comfort. She realizes that there is no way for her to be happy with this man. That’s when she finally leaves. There’s no groveling, no tears, no remorse. It’s a clean severance of dead weight. She’s empty, and it lightens her being enough for her to walk away. There is no way to save it. The bridge has been burned and she was gone forever.

The funny part was, this didn’t just apply to men. That’s the thing about emptiness: it consumes everything. Loneliness is a black hole that swallows every ray of light that it encounters. That was your life recently. No light and no joy - not even sadness. You couldn’t feel anything strongly anymore. You picked up little habits to try and feel. You heated your food to scalding temperatures just to feel the heat on your lips. Your showers were icy, the pinpricks distracting you from the desire to cry. You no longer felt strong anger or desire or really anything. The color was slowly draining from your life, grays and sepias replacing the once vibrant existence around you. The beauty around you had mangled into gnarly trees and threatening uncertainty as you foolishly waited for the sun to peak through. But it had abandoned you. The sun had taken its rays and warmth elsewhere, almost mocking you as you shivered in the dirt. So maybe it was time to crate your own light: burn down the forest and start anew.

“Nothing? La, that can’t be true Doctora.”

Your eyes shot up at the title. There was, in fact, one feeling that you still sensed: pain. You could still feel physically pain, and inflicted it on yourself often just to experience an emotion. But nothing could compare to the sharp stabs and dull aches that lived in your heart. It was hard to look at Gavi without feeling like you wanted to fall on your knees. Realizing that you were in love was not beautiful or romantic. It was torturous, like snakes and thorns taking home in your throat. Reality was the salt in the wound; the knowledge that you two were destined to fail before you had began was a pill too big to swallow, suffocating you instead.

“If I can be honest, mister, I don’t feel like I belong here at Barça. I’ve been here for six months and I still don’t feel like part of the team. Maybe it’s just not a good environment or fit for me. That’s not something that can be fixed with just a salary increase. I just can’t tell if this is the place for me.”

Xavi looked at you, bringing his elbows to rest on the table and interlocking his fingers. He wanted to adamantly refuse, but there was truth to what you said. It was evident that there was a disconnect between you and the general environment of the team. You were close to some of the younger players, but had difficulty gaining the trust and respect of the older crowd and the medical staff. Your ideas for treatment were too modern - too far removed from what everyone else was used to. Hell, you were upsetting one of his players, and that was the opposite of your job as the support staff. But he would by lying if he said you weren't effective. The plan for Dembele that you had first presented got the striker back on the field weeks earlier than any other predictions. Your diligent maintenance had prevented players from getting injured as often, keeping the ones you were closest to on a strict exercise regimen, ensuring their continuous improvement. He cared for his players and his club. And if you were the miracle cure to keeping them healthy and playing, then he was going to keep you there, even if he had to tie you to the columns of Camp Nou.

"There must be something we can do to keep you. You're very familiar with the players and the equipment, as well as the workflow, and you're very good at your work. Hell, Gavi hasn't even had a cough since you started here, and he's quite accident-prone. Please let me know what I can possibly do to keep you with us."

"I really am not being shy or sneaky. I really have no demands. When then team heads to the UK for the game against Man U, I will visit the Chelsea facility and meet the staff. If I like what I see, I'll be moving there. I'm just... not happy here anymore."

There it was. The confession you had not even made to yourself. You were at the club of your dreams, living everything that your younger self had always wanted, and you just could not be happy. This was a disappointment that was hard to describe. Everyone always talks about shooting for the moon, but no one talks about what happens when you actually make it there. You work hard and your dreams become a reality: you're on the moon! But the moon is so, so far from Earth. And when you're cold and lonely and looking down on all of the people that could be loving you, then the moon doesn't seem so worth it anymore. When you realize the moon is just a rock, then what hope do you have left?

Thinking back, you recalled all the people that you pushed away to further your career goals. You think of the family gatherings and events that you missed to study and work. You think of all the friends you have lost touch with because they were never a priority. They were never smart or driven enough to keep up with you, and so they were left in the dust. You had a few, but none you could confidently say would pick up a call from you at 2am if you needed help. Boyfriends were even worse. Since your heartbreak in college, men had fallen to the wayside. You justified it to yourself, saying that you just needed to be successful, and you would attract someone at your level. Someone who wanted an equal. But here you were: alone, depressed, and thinking of running away from what you once thought was your life's purpose.

Before Xavi could respond, a loud thud from the hallway distracted the two of you, followed by shouts that chilled your blood.

"Gavi!"

You were out of your seat in seconds. There was no force that could stop you, feet and hands moving on their own accord as you entered the hall and laid eyes on the body on the floor. There was no air in your lungs or your larynx to make a sound, let alone scream.

Why was Gavi on the floor?

Your hearing was shot, like you were underwater. The faces of those surrounding were panicked, and all eyes were on you, shouts and points and calls for action flying straight over your head.

Why was Gavi on the floor?

Your stomach was twisting itself into elaborate knots, coiling tighter while pushing the bile further up your throat. Your eyes went in and out of focus, willing the scene in front of you to disappear. You blinked hard hoping for the image to change when your eyes opened again.

Why was Gavi on the floor?

"Doctora, please look at Pablo - he collapsed suddenly and we need to make sure he doesn't have a head injury. Move!" It was Antonio's hands on your shoulders and shouts that finally got you to move from your frozen position.

Kneeling over, Gavi looked even worse. His skin was pale, and he was crumpled like an aluminum can - limbs everywhere, like his life force had just abandoned him. You had to remove Gavi from the situation and pretend he was a practice dummy at school. You had to pretend he was plastic and rubber, because that's the only way you could go through head injury protocols with a calm mind. He couldn't be Pablo, because if he was, then the thought would have to fester in your head: Pablo was hurt when you had been distant. He was hurt because you had been distant. Worst case scenario, he could disappear from your life now, all because you hadn't been able to handle the proximity like a normal person. Your thoughts were spiraling now, painting scenarios of death and disease and making it even harder for you to stop the tremble in your hands.

But you had decided that his cold heap of flesh before you wasn't Gavi. It couldn't be. It wasn't even a person. You recited the head injury checklist under your breath: consciousness, breathing, vision, vomiting. Placing a hand on Gavi's neck, you felt a pulse, stopping you from performing CPR. The last thing you needed to do was unnecessarily crack a rib. You shook him several times, and received no response.

"Shine a light in his eyes!" "Shake him harder!" "Should we pour water on him? Get some water!" "You're not yelling his name loudly enough!"

You ignored the shouts of the peanut gallery, repeating the list like a mantra in your head. You would have time later to be angry at the staff for their utter uselessness in the situation, but right now, you just needed to keep going. Blood was pounding in your ears as you opened one of his eyelids. Consciousness, breathing, vision, vomiting. It snapped back into place, and Pablo's face was now in view. Other than his pale complexion, he looked perfectly at peace. His face was identical to the night you had spent sleeping next to him - sleeping atop him. His breathing was deep, as if he had spontaneously fallen asleep in the middle of the hallway. He was beautiful. And for the first time in days, it had allowed you to be filled with a warmth somewhat foreign to you now. Pablo was in your arms and beautiful, and you could not imagine how you were meant to go on with life seeing him every day and being denied this privilege. You didn't allow yourself to dwell on the thought. Breathing? Yes. Consciousness? No. That needed to be remedied.

"Pablo, if you can wake up now, it would be really helpful. Otherwise I'm going to have to cause you a lot of pain."

You waited for a response, but none came. You sighed deeply, moving your hands from the supple skin of his cheeks downwards, gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it upwards, exposing the expanse of his chest. You made out the sounds of taunting and whistles, but they were promptly silenced by staff who reminded the crowd that this was not an appropriate moment for jokes. Forming a fist, you placed your knuckles on the center of Pablo's chest, pushing down and rubbing. Hard. His eyes shot open within seconds, and he threw your hand off, howling in pain. His breathing was shallow and panicked, vision erratic as teammates, coaches, and other staff all yelled questions and instructions at him.

"Everybody shut up! Let me do my job."

That was the voice he needed to hear. As the yells settled to murmurs, his breathing slowed and he began to see more clearly. His eyes fully focused on you, and it soothed the ache in his chest. His heart was racing faster than he had ever felt, causing Pablo to grab onto your shoulders to ground himself.

"Pablo, can you hear me?"

You were here. You were real. He could still hold you and feel you. He nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak. The nausea that he had felt before he blacked out still lingered, and the last thing he wanted to do was projectile vomit on you. He flinched slightly at the feeling of your hand returning to his face, but settled quickly, listening hard to your instructions. There was nothing easier than focusing on the sound of your voice.

"Look at me." You said, shining a light in Gavi's eyes, checking for any hemorrhaging or internal bleeding. What a silly request, he thought to himself, squinting under the brightness. How could he look anywhere else when you were in the room? How could he ever tear his eyes from you? How could he waste a single second of you before him, especially with the prospect of you leaving at the end of the month looming?

"No bleeding. Are you experiencing any double vision?"

A headshake no. You instructed someone behind you to grab a bottle of water, and then turned back to Pablo.

"Good. What is your name?"

Gavi swallowed thickly, and took a deep breath before speaking. "My name is Pablo Gavi."

"Good. And who am I?"

"Ah don't worry, Doctora. Even with amnesia, I could never forget you." There was that stabbing feeling in your chest again. That feeling that accompanied Pablo's sweet words and kind eyes. The cold shard of reality that reminded you that he would fade away into an Instagram mutual in a matter of months.

"Alright, Gavi. No internal bleeding and no memory loss. We need to go through more of the concussion protocols and make sure you're okay, but we can do this in my office. Are you okay to stand?"

After a curt nod, you helped Pablo stand, and began walking with him towards your office. You informed Xavi of the next steps, and he told you to do whatever necessary to make sure his 'golden angry bird' was okay. But of course, you could never know a day of peace, as each one must be filled with the noise pollution that was Ferran's voice.

"If the door isn't open, just know that Pablito isn't moaning in pain." A round of snickers was heard from both players and staff. But before they had time to add on to the nasty comment, you swiveled around to face the group. You were seething with anger, and one very important realization came to the center of your mind.

You had nothing left to lose.

It was Pablo Torre who was closest to you, and he was the person that received the start of your wrath.

"What the hell are you laughing at? The fact that your teammate could have serious head trauma? Or at the fact that, with Gavi potentially out of commission, they might take you off the bench long enough for you to remember what grass feels like?"

He was silent instantly, eyes wide. He had never received words this harsh from anyone at the club. Or anyone not on Twitter. You turned to two more assistant physios, Luca and Gabriel, who stood next to him, still muttering to one another in hushed tones.

"And you two! Do you want to know why everyone has to rush and get me whenever someone hits their head? Because out of everyone here, I'm the only one that knows proper concussion protocols and how to identify trauma. I have more medical knowledge in my fingernail than in both of your heads combined. I have to take him to my office because you two are incompetent at your jobs! And instead of doing anything useful, this is how you occupy your time: slacking, cigarette breaks, speculating who I'm sleeping with, and doing absolutely jack shit when a player gets injured. So keep giggling like school girls. I can't wait to see you both giggling on the street corner while begging for spare change."

You held Gavi harshly, storming off to your office. Your speed and the bounce was making him nauseous, but he knew better than to speak in this moment. His chest had swelled with pride. He was patiently waiting for the day that you would put the guys in their place. None of them were bad people - it had just been a while since most of them interacted with a woman they didn't want to sleep with. Gavi loved that you were capable of defending yourself, but could not ignore the part of him that wanted to be the one to defend you.

Call it a toxic trait if you want, but Pablo had always taken pride in his ability to intimidate. He had eventually come to terms with the fact that he was done growing at a sweet 5'7, despite his desire to break at least 5'9 (because his friend Hanna at La Masia told him that was the shortest a girl would go for. Looking back, taking this information from a 5'10 female footballer was probably not the best idea he's ever had). It had taken a while, but after weeks of daily affirmations in the mirror about how short Messi was, he held his chin higher. Once he started receiving praise from fellow players, coaches, and media, Pablo gained more confidence in the fact that he could be part of the next generation of great Barcelona football. This allowed him to go up against any player with no worries or fear, winning headers against people with a foot of height on him. Pablo began building his upper body in the gym as well, compensating with strength. A broad and reckless teenager, there was almost no one he wasn't ready to take on.

He sensed that same quality in you as well: a desire to prove yourself, no matter the cost. But he didn't want you to. He never wanted to see you scowl or have to hear you yell (despite it being semi-hot). Pablo wanted to be your knight, whose sole purpose in life was making sure that you never experienced feelings but joy and pleasure. He wanted others to go through him before daring to speak to you. Because how could every person just have access to the beauty that is you? To the radiant soul and shimmering aura that fills the room? How could he be content with you shouldering the burdens of living in this world? Even if he never got to have you romantically, Pablo wanted to shield you from every harm in the world. And not a day went by when he didn't feel it.

This was one of those moments. He wished he was able to verbally berate Ferran for the garbage he spewed on a regular basis, but he could do nothing except let himself be dragged by you through the halls of the sports center until they reached your office, where he was promptly flung towards the exam table. He watched as you brought him your small office trash can, setting it beside the bed. He was brought back to your first month at Barca, when he had challenged you and been proven wrong. There was a confidence in yourself and your abilities that had dissipated from then to now. Pablo smiled stupidly as he remembered the excruciating pain and discomfort of trying not to throw up in front of the pretty physio. If only he had known then that it was nothing compared to the pain of holding back these feelings.

"Lay down on the bed. Look up at the ceiling. If you need to vomit, do it in there." You instructed curtly before moving to sit at your computer. Short nails clicked harshly against the raised keyboard, keys slamming down rapidly, sound reverberating around the room. Gavi wanted so desperately to flip over, lay on his stomach and stare at you. Just to see the curves of your face and the way your eyes reflected the light. But he looked up at the ceiling like you asked, more worried about pushing you further away than watching you type. He took several deep breaths. This didn’t feel like the last time he was concussed. Last time, he had felt his brain rattle against his skull, waves of nausea starting immediately. His head ad throbbed, spots forming on his vision. His jaw was clenched, and he could’ve sworn there was a crack down the center of his cranium, blood oozing out of it onto the practice pitch.

He remembered that day so vividly despite the head trauma. He had been livid, Ferran dragging him to a new and inexperienced physio. Gavi had interpreted it as sabotage to that Ferran could get the left wing back. And then he saw you. Angry that he was he wasn’t receiving treatment by the best, he couldn’t say he was upset to look at you. You were a stunning kind of beauty, young and lively and clad in cool gray scrubs. But you were three years older than him, wildly advanced and talented, and he couldn’t swallow his pride - especially not with this nausea. He could not swallow the fact that you looked so damn familiar. He had seen you somewhere before: those eyes had looked at him with that same distress and concern. But he could not place it for the life of him.

Pablo thought back to how sweet you had been to him that day. How you had encouraged him to take pride in himself and be confident in the fact that he deserved all the success he had seen. He was so overwhelmed that day. His brain was absolute porridge, and he was doing his best for it not to pour out of his ears, all while his cheeks burned under your gaze. He was too preoccupied by his desire to muster one ounce of hatred to replace the overwhelming admiration in his brain that he could not determine where the hell he had seen you before.

And now here he was, once again staring at the ceiling, head throbbing, and the thought came to him again: why did you look familiar? Despite having known you for half a year now, the feeling that there was history had not left him. It wasn't that you had a common face. There was something about the way you looked at him, with a knowing and sadness, that touched a part of his soul. Like you knew things he had never even admitted to himself. While he thought that was just your way of being, he was coming to realize that look was one reserved specifically for Pablo. Now he wasn't nauseous, and focused on the rhythmic sounds of keys being slammed. He poised himself to ask a question, but not the one gnawing at his brain.

"What're you typing so excitedly? Hopefully not your resignation."

You looked up in time to watch Pablo's chest heave with the breathy (and very fake) laugh that he forced out. Your fingers rested against the keyboard, pausing your aggressive typing. How did Gavi know about your plans to leave? Had he been listening at the door? How long had he been standing there before-

"Is that why you fainted in the hallway? Because I'm leaving the club?"

"So you've already decided that you're leaving? You aren't even going to wait until you see whatever shithole you've been offered a spot at?"

There was an emotion that made Gavi's voice wobble, and you couldn't pin it exactly, but it sounded akin to betrayal. You finished the last sentence of your email, the swooshing sound indicating the message had been sent. Pablo bit his lip and stared hard at the fluorescent light. He didn't want you to see the distress in his face, but he couldn't help it. He hated how the dynamic between the two of you had been so warm, so close to the spark he desperately sought, just to go back to how icy your interactions began.

You pulled up a stool to sit next to him, and grabbed a pair of gloves as you approached. You noticed the slight quiver of his lip, and turned away to put your gloves on. The deep sadness in his eyes, the way his body tensed, the voice like a hurt child - was this all because of you?

"I was doing what I should've done my first week working here: I sent an email to HR about Ferran's nasty comments. Barca can't have a sexual harassment scandal right about now, especially not during the transfer window. And if they fire me, then they..." Your voice trailed off, throat closing up. It was still hard for you to process the possibility.

"If they fire me, then that's one less decision that I have to make."

You ran a gloved hand across his crown, feeling for any bumps or lacerations because of his fall. You felt worse the longer you continued the exam, the feeling that this was your fault sinking in. You had pushed Pablo away wordlessly after brining him in so close. But the majority of your brain screamed back at you how selfish it would be to drag Pablo into your black hole, ruining his career so that he could run after a girl who didn't even feel. If the sun in its greatness could not warm you, then how could ask this of Pablo?

"Now we need to talk about your fall in the hallway. It's quite obvious that you fainted but-"

"Were ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to freeze me out until you left the country?"

Gavi propped himself up on his elbows, eyes meeting you directly. You didn't know what to say. You couldn't tell him how you felt, especially not now. Not right before you disappeared.

"Have you ever fainted like that before? What have you eaten to day?" You asked, moving to throw away your gloves. "If you're having frequent spells of losing consciousness, then we need to have your blood iron tes-"

"Are you being serious right now, y/n? You're on the verge of quitting your dream job, packing up and leaving the country, and isolating yourself from everyone who cares about you, and you're asking about my blood iron? No."

Pablo stood, getting off the table faster than someone with a head injury should. He walked towards you, anger evident.

"No. You don't get to change the subject and talk about my iron. Or sit and try and diagnose me with anything. You know that I'm perfectly healthy. Want to know why I fainted? I'll tell you, Doctora."

Gavi was right in front of your face now, heavy breath fanning against your skin. You swallowed thickly, breathing just as heavy as you met his blazing stare. For the first time in weeks, your eyes started to moisten. Why was this scolding from Pablo going to bring you to tears?

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

Pablo was now cupping your face, holding it like it was the only thing that would tether him to the earth. He rested his head against yours, and suddenly it was too much. All the feelings that had escaped you for so long were coming back all at once, stacking on top of each other and smothering you. Your eyes welled with tears, and you wished the ground would swallow you whole to escape Gavi's piercing eyes looking straight through you.

"But you have to know that I don't just see you as a friend, Doctora. You have to know, even if you don't feel the same way, that I am -"

"We met before I got my job here. That's why you recognize me."

Gavi let go of your face, taking a step back. He looked at you with confusion and hurt. You both knew what he was about to say, and he couldn't understand why you wouldn't just let him get it off his chest. And as selfish as it was, you just couldn't take it. Pablo deserved better - someone that would lift him up, not hold him back. And if he said it, if it was out in the open, then you would never be able to put his needs first.

"The week of my interview, I went to pick up Angelika from the club. Angel went to get her from the VIP section and he left me in charge of keeping an eye on you."

"You... were watching me while I was drunk?" Pablo's brain was processing a thousand things at once. You had met him and remembered him? What had he said while drunk to make you hide that fact from him?

"Why didn't you say anything before?"

There were so many ways to answer this question that you didn't know where to begin. How could you explain to Gavi that you had been so captured by his beauty that night that it had thrown you off your axis, making you wonder if you had died and this was the angel sent to guide you to the pearly gates? How could you describe the intense pull Pablo had over you, tugging at your soul, urging you to stay with him? How were you to say the way your heart broke on his behalf, wanting to hold him in your arms and protect him from everything that made him feel less than the most special person alive? All you had wanted was to kiss him, to pull him in, to never let him go. But none of the words materialized. Because to you, the cruelest thing you could do to Pablo was keep pulling him into you. He was pure light, and you couldn't bear the burden of being the one to extinguish it.

"It was an insignificant moment in a club. Nothing worth mentioning. I didn't even remember until Pedri reminded me when I started."

There it was. The sentence that made Gavi crack. You watched the hurt seep into his features, and a heavy air filled the room. Brows coming together, he looked at you expectantly, waiting, praying, that you would take it back.

"Meeting me was ... insignificant?"

Eyes locked, there was nothing you could say that would erase this moment. You swallowed the lump in your throat, playing with your fingers. You spun the ring you wore around your finger, trying to occupy your mind with anything other than the thought that you were the human embodiment of garbage.

The silence remained, growing thicker with each passing second. It enveloped the both of you, tendrils wrapping around and ripping the two of you apart, fraying whatever string of fate had brought you together.

"You think it was just a coincidence, meeting me in the club weeks before we become coworkers? Friends? Something... beyond that...and you think that coincidence was so forgettable that it wasn't even worth mentioning?"

There it was. The cold front that you put up, the one that pushed everyone away, no matter how hot their love for you burned. You were the ice princess, destined to go through life cold and untouchable and alone.

"Some people you just meet, Pablo. It doesn't mean they're meant to be together. I needed to get my friend out of the club and I just ran into Angel. He left me in charge of you so that you wouldn't do anything stupid or childish while drunk. I was in a club babysitting an 18 year old kid who was pouring his heart out to me while wasted. I didn't say anything to save you from the embarrassment."

That was the straw that broke Gavi's heart. He stormed towards the door, unable to look at you any longer. Had he really been lead on; allowed to believe that you were his friend, or at the least respected him, when this entire time you just saw him as a little kid. His last line to you was spoken so softly you almost didn't hear it over the deafening slam of the door.

"They're going to love you in England."

~

"Your English is very good for someone educated in Spain."

You looked up at Steve, flashing a practiced professional smile that showed no indication of offense at the objectively offensive statement.

"Thank you, Dr. Hughes. I did complete my baccalaureate degree in the United States, but I'm glad the last two years in Barcelona have not damaged my language."

Now it was his turn to laugh uncomfortably as he lead you through the garish blue halls of Stamford bridge. The entire plane ride you had told yourself that this could be the fresh start you needed. This could be the opportunity to turn your life around, and so you should approach it with fresh eyes and an open mind. But the walls were hurting your eyes, the blue and white making you think of Martin in his kit. You were lead into the trophy room, which was a lot smaller than you were used to.

"Here you can see some of the club's shining moments. We have had an... interesting season this year, but you know that performance fluctuates between seasons. We hope to be back on top again very soon, especially with an entirely new medical team coming on board."

You scanned the shelves and glass cases, admiring the look of trophies you were familiar with, and ones you had never seen before.

"An entire new medical staff? No one is staying on?" You asked, confused. What kind of club replaced everyone all at the same time? Usually at least one person remained to pass the torch, to maintain familiarity. It set warning bells off in your head.

“Ah, well, many of our staff members were quite loyal to Dr. Henry, you know he was here for 17 years after all. So they all followed him out. But we are excited to usher in a new wave of sparkling young medical talent!”

You swallowed hard, still feeling from the information. You still hadn’t finished your degree, and yet you were being offered a head position at what was supposed to be a huge and well-respected club. You couldn’t help but think of the blaugrana.

Something flitted in your chest, a feeling that surrounded you whenever you walked into the camp. The feeling of family, like you were home. The coldness of Steve’s answer didn’t spark anything close to that feeling. Not every workplace needed to be a part of your heart, a new family. These days. You had no idea what your family was supposed to be, or if you had one at all. Your brain begged you to ask what the environment was like, how close the staff was, what created such a high level of loyalty that they would all follow this man wherever he went, abandoning club and home. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, asking instead,

“Do you only display the most recent. Champions League trophy?”

More laughter from Steve, but of the fakest nature. “Yes we have one on this side, one on the other. They’re … ehem, all of our UCL trophies are displayed here.” Your cheeks warmed with subtle embarrassment. You knew nothing about this room or this club, and if you were honest with yourself, you had no desire to. You missed Barca. But you had to give this club its chance – an honest shot to be your new home.

The two of you continued through the halls as Steve showed you all the medical equipment and facilities that would be at your disposal should you accept. At the end, he led you to the players’ lounge, offering you a seat. The blue had given you a baby migraine, and you were incredibly grateful for the ability to sit and rest. You refused the gracious offers for food, sipping on a bottle of water to dull the throbbing against your skull. You searched the room for something, something familiar – a face, a number, to make you feel like everything was going to work out in the end. But it never appeared, the bright colors and foreign faces more of a discomfort than anything else.

"Make yourself comfortable, Doctor. Let me get some of the players that you'll be working with, and you can hear from them what the environment is like."

You nodded sweetly, sitting up straight with ankles crossed in the way Princess Diaries taught you to. As the footsteps faded slowly into the distance, a sigh passed between your lips. What were you doing? Despite the lecture given to yourself on the uncomfortable plane ride over (Chelsea would only pay for economy), it had all gone out the window. Your gut was in knots, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were doing something wrong.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and the screen lit up in your hand to read "One Football: FC Barcelona vs Manchester United - Starting lineup now available." The notification had been pressed before you registered what was going on. Your eyes scanned the list just to land on one name. Your mind went back to the last conversation the two of you shared. The most venomous words had slipped past your lips, and you had finally done it: you pushed the last person who cared for you away. The sentiment was harsh. How could anyone ever recover a relationship after shattering it so completely? Despite how much much it hurt to grip the broken shards so tightly, you held on nonetheless, packing Gavi's hoodie in your bag, the '6' embroidered into the pocket cutting open a gaping wound in your heart, and yet you enjoyed its presence there.

"Doctora, I'm pleased to introduce Kepa and Christian. They have been with the club for a while, and they would be happy to answer all your questions."

~

"A scoreless first half here at Old Trafford as both Barcelona and Man U return to the locker rooms for half time. As we saw Pedri went down in those final minutes of the half, and we've received a report that he is out for the rest of the match. His injury status is unknown, but if the magician is out of commission, this could be a very easy steal for United."

The sounds of fists slamming against lockers was loud enough to be heard all the way home in Spain. Pedri Potter, the star, the leader of Barca's new era, was now in icing his right hamstring in some medical examination room, while the rest of the team scrambled to figure out a scenario in which they would win without him in a mere 15 minutes. Gavi bounced his leg anxiously, eager to see his friend and make sure he was okay.

"Listen up boys. We can win this game without Pedri. The score is now 1-0 to Man U, and all we need to do it score once to tie. Then we are back home, our turf and our fans. Robert, Rapha, your goal is to put the ball in the net. I don't care what you have to do. The middle, you need to get the ball in a good position for these two. That means Gavi, you'll be- Gavi pay attention!"

Head snapping up, Pablo's eyes met Xavi's directly. He knew he should be paying attention - this was the first of several games that needed to be won until they reached a trophy. He needed to be on his A-game, and yet, his mind was drifting. He wished it was just concern over Pedri capturing his attention. But in the corners of his mind, your voice lingered. "Babysitting... insignificant... embarrassment." All words you had used when talking about him as he was on the verge of pouring his entire soul out onto the linoleum for you. He didn't understand the anger that flowed through him. It was a sense of ... incompleteness. If you had let him finish, let him say the words that he didn't fully understand, then he would have been okay. He would have watched as you kicked his beating heart against the wall, telling him that you could never feel that way towards him. He would have been okay: relieved. But you had left him dangling off the edge of a cliff, with no relief in being pulled to safety nor mercy in being allowed to fall.

Xavi gave his instructions to the midfield and the defensive line, going over the weak points that needed to be addressed.

"Pedri is most likely out for the next eight weeks, missing both the next match and the SuperCopa, so this is your opportunity to adjust to playing in high-stress situations without him."

Gavi's head raised fully at this. Eight weeks? It has been forever since someone was out for that long. Since the beginning of the season... since you had joined the team. A pinch in Pablo's chest. His brain repeated over and over that the best thing to do was let you go. To let you be your own person, grow and be independent, saving himself the heartache because the one girl he wanted was the one he couldn't have. Yet his heart held on with an iron grip. It refused to release you, reminding him of every sweet moment shared in cars and offices and bedrooms. It was quick to forget the pain of being perceived as a child. Pablo's heart begged him to wait for you, because it was incapable of letting go of a devotion so intense. His heart ached for you, longing for the day he be deemed worthy enough to love you wholly and completely.

"Eight weeks is insane - we have never gone that long with our midfield handicapped. Is there no way to speed up recovery? Who gave the estimate?" Robert asked, wiping the sweat off his brow.

"Luca is the only one from the medical staff who is here right now. He is the one who made the determination. Of course, the rest of the staff will be free to reevaluate when we return home. But Luca will be the one continuing with the course of treatment, and so we will go with his estimate."

"What? Where is y/n?" The question came from Alejandro, followed by hushed agreement. Even if you were not the first point of contact for all the players, you were a team staple, becoming as familiar to them as the crest embroidered on their uniforms. The older players had watched as you performed medical miracles on their teammates that rivaled what Jesus did for the blind, allowing the team to prosper all season. 15 points at the top of the table, and at least half had your name on them. The youngers had felt your impact directly, following your instructions like gospel. They knew how much care you showed to every single one of them, from the starters to the bench warmers. Your hands had put them back together. A touch of you lingered in all the success achieved, and your absence felt closer to abandonment than anything else.

"You should ask Pablito - he would be the first one to notice that his girlfriend wasn't on the flight." Ferran's voice: the closest human equivalent to nails on a chalkboard. After everything that had taken place, it was a wonder he still had the energy to be an ass.

"Maybe you should ask Ferran about his HR investigation, which is a main reason that she's touring the Chelsea facility fight now. Hey, maybe you'll see her this summer when you get sold there. They're always looking for people to keep the bench warm while the important players are on the field." Gavi spoke calmly and evenly, like he was stating pure fact. He stood, leaving the room to avoid the round of questioning that was about to occur regarding HR and the doctora's new home.

The click of Pablo's cleats echoed loudly in the hallway a she approached the medical room, where Luca was fumbling with bandage and his laptop, while Pedri waited on the exam table like a fish at the market. His head turned at the sound of Gavi's approach, and he gave a weak smile to the younger player.

"I finally pushed it too far. Great timing, eh Hermano? It's only a Champion's League, a SuperCopa, and a potential classico that I'll miss. Nothing significant."

Gavi could do nothing but let out a slight laugh, cupping Pedri on the back of the neck. His heart hurt for his friend. This is what every player dreamed of: playing for cups, winning with the team of their dreams. And Pedri was going to miss all of it because they had relied on him to heavily, asked him to bridge too many gaps.

"Please don't say that word to me ever again. Luca, how's it looking? Eight weeks seems a little excessive for a sprain." Gavi knew that Luca was doing something wrong. Or stupid. Or, the most likely option, both. When Ansu had sprained his hamstring, he was back on the field in 28 days under your care. Alejandro had a minor tear in his meniscus, and yet still he was faster than the speed of sound 6 weeks later. Now there was no you. No melodic voice explaining muscle strain and stride length and tissue recovery. Just a stupid, lanky Spaniard in free Barca merch putting "leg hurts" into Web MD and seeing what he can diagnose with this time.

"Why don't you let the medical professionals do their job, Gavi, and you go back to putting your head in front of peoples' feet."

Looking to quickly diffuse the situation, Pedri turned to his friend, wanting to stop looking at the man who might end his football career with a wrong move and an 'oops'.

"I'll just let y/n look at it when I get back home. She'll fix me up in no time. That is, if you give me one of your spots on her schedule."

"Yeah, that's if she even comes back to work."

Pedri looked at the younger boy with confusion. It had been several weeks since he had seen Gavi with his favorite physio. Initially, he thought the crush had faded - that Pablo had found another pretty thing to maintain his interest, and you had fallen to the wayside with the other failed football loves. But Pablo was so clearly unhappy. He was more irritable, spending more and more time on his phone while avoiding the group all together. He sat silently in Pedri's passenger seat, screen illuminating his face but remaining silent.

[Doctora]: Good morning Pablo - running late. Will bring you an apology smoothie

[Doctora]: im going to need you to send me a video of you tying your shoes as proof

[Doctora]: i'll tell you when i see u tomorrow

Gavi had spent two weeks going back over every message you had ever sent him. He watched the way your tone changed from proper and professional to something lighter, more friendly and familiar. Over and over your voice played in his head.

"Pablo."

Pride be damned. He missed you. As he stood behind his teammates, whispers about the staff still whirling around the tunnel, it dawned on him. Barca, the club of his dreams, the fantasy of his childhood, would never - could never - be complete again if you left.

"And we're back in Old Trafford for the second half of this UCL match between the Historic FC Barcelona, and the red devils of Manchester United."

~

"That's incredible that you went to school there! I'm a ride or die for their basketball team, so you already have my respect."

You flashed Christian a smile - a real one, the first genuine display of joy you've been able to muster in a while. Both of the players had shown a genuine interest in getting to know you, trying to sell you on the idea of joining the club. Kepa had gushed over how much he loved living in London, citing his experiences as a fellow Spaniard.

"You're around so many Spanish speakers at the club, you hardly miss home."

Christian, the more injury-prone of the two, talked about his experiences with the medical team, and the close relationships he had built there. All of the medical team had become family to him in some way or the other. It calmed your previous anxieties. Maybe it was just a fear of change keeping you tethered to Barca, and all you needed was time to adjust.

"I think you'd get along really well with the other players, of course, the ones that opt-in to working with you."

This statement from Christian caught the attention of both you and Steve, who rushed over before you could ask for clarification. Opt-in? How could you opt-in to medical treatment?

"Miss, I think that Kepa and Christian have both done a wonderful job of providing just a small taste of what it means to be part of the Chelsea family. We don't want to keep them from afternoon training."

You said your thanks and goodbyes, but before they left Kepa turned to you, as if suddenly struck with a lightening bolt of realization.

"You're the Barca physio that works with Gavi, right?" He asked in Spanish. "He mentioned a girl physio during international training."

Another knot in your stomach at the mere mention of his name. "Yeah that would be me."

Kepa's face shifted, brows downturned and lips pursed. "Let me give you my contact information, in case you have any more questions." This line was in English, spoken more in Steve's direction than in yours. He approached, taking the phone from your hands and switching back to Spanish.

"Don't leave Barca. Gavi talked about you a lot during the break. They respect and value you a lot there - don't throw that away." He handed the phone back to you as you tried to contain your expression, suppressing the shock you felt from displaying itself on your features. What could Pablo have said that would make this man go out of his way to prevent you from joining this club? What had been so compelling that Kepa worked against his own best interest?

It was now just you and Steve in the room, and you turned to him, his skin flushed, to ask about Christian's little slip.

"There was something mentioned about players opting out of treatment?"

"Ah, just a small clause in your contract. Just says that players can choose not to be treated by club medical staff and find their own if they feel uncomfortable. It's all there in the paperwork somewhere. You can call my assistant if you read over it again and have more questions. Now, I know that you need to go soon, but I wouldn't be able to let you go without meeting one of our new signings. Someone else who knows what it's like to decide to make the shift from La Liga here to the old PL. Come with me."

You rose from your seat, migraine returning from the stress onset. What was being kept from you? Obviously you hadn't read your employment offer close enough. You walked through the passages somewhat mindlessly, following Steve with your body as your mind drifted elsewhere. What was being hidden from you?

"Joao, nice to see you again! This is Doctor y/l/n, and we're trying to convince her to make the same switch from Spain to London."

All of your medical education had told you that the masticator and other jaw muscles were voluntary; that they could be controlled and moved when you wanted. Not today. Your jaw went slack, and it refused to shut as you stared at the Portuguese beauty before you. There was no way. How had you missed the news of his move. How unprofessional was it to say 'pinch me' during what was essentially an interview.

"Nice to meet you, Doctora. I'm quite relieved that I don't have to speak in English - apparently my accent is not as good as I thought."

Joao Felix was shaking your hand. You had yet to say anything or even shut your mouth. Joao Felix was shaking your hand. You laughed lightly at his statement, muscles moving independently of the pudding that was your brain currently. Joao Felix was shaking your hand.

"I'm sorry, it's so nice to meet you, I'm just a little overwhelmed. You're one of my favorite players in football right now. I've been following you since your debut. Oh my God."

It was Joao's turn to laugh, a light and glorious sound. You had made him laugh. You wished someone was recording so you could send the video to Angeliika. And your mom. They would both go into cardiac arrest. His skin turned slightly pink as he scratched the back of his head, flattered by the admiration of someone so accomplished (and, as he would later reflect, gorgeous). Despite not understanding a lick of Spanish, Steve knew he had made a winning move by introducing you to Joao. The two of you leaned into each other as you spoke, and he motioned towards the field, inviting you to a stroll around the turf to chat.

All of your pride and prejudice fantasies were being realized in this moment. You were taking a polite stroll around the grounds with a man that you had salivated over while watching football on TV. A golden boy and future champion. He was something incredible. Witty and charismatic and easy to talk to. Everyone says not to meet your heroes, and yet here you were, floating several inches above the ground beside Joao.

"So, what club are you moving from? Can't be something in Madrid - I would remember you."

Lord, this was too much. You gave a silent thanks to the heavens, all the good karma you had accumulated throughout your life manifesting on this day.

"Oh no, not a Madrid club. Just a small Catalan club called Barca. Heard of it?" You teased as Joao stopped in his tracks. It was his turn to go wide-eyed and slack jawed.

"You're the Barca girl physio? I have heard of you! One of the physios at Atleti is your classmate. He said you're crazy smart."

How were you staying alive when all the blood in your body was in your face? How had so many people in the football space heard your name with you blissfully unaware. The smile on your face was not just due to the compliment. Maybe there were people ready to be there for you, and you just needed to reach arm out to them.

The conversation came to a close as you watched other groups come onto the field, preparations being made for upcoming matches. You thanked Joao for his time, once again involuntarily gushing about how surreal this experience was.

"Ah, there's really no need. The pleasure was all mine. I hope that I'll get to see more of you, Doctora, no matter what decision you end up making." Stretching his arm out, pulling you in for a hug. He enveloped you, arms wrapped tightly around your frame in a way that was borderline inappropriate for a goodbye. He smelled heavenly, the warmth radiating from his body akin to a fireplace. This was the stuff of dreams and imagination.

And yet, Joao was not the name on your mind. He way he smelled was beautiful and yet unfamiliar. Your thoughts traveled back to the last hug like this you had shared with someone. To the scent of One Million and powdery deodorant, mixed with something that couldn't be bottled. To the feeling of strong arms sitting lower on your waist. To brown hair and brown eyes and a brown leather couch. To white shirts and white bedsheets. To the soft voice and smooth voice that called for you.

"Doctora."

Logic be damned. You missed Pablo. And then the empty expanse of your soul filled with a feeling of dread. You had made a mistake. So many mistakes. Pushing away Pablo, lying to your friends about how much you needed them. Considering another job. Nothing in the the blue and white had given you even 1% of the feelings you experienced walking into Camp Nou every day. But you would never be able to go back if Gavi was angry with you. Ferran was cattle waiting to be sold. Gavi was a contender this year's golden boy, a powerhouse on the field, a bright star for both club and country. You reached into your bag, staring at his name in your phone. But your fingers shook too violently to press the call button. You remembered the hurt on his features, the way he couldn't even look at you as he passed in the halls. You weren't ready to see [Call Declined] appear on your screen. Instead you rested your phone on your lap, reaching in to retrieve your Chelsea contract.

Obviously, your eagerness to run away from your current life had blurred your vision. On page 22 of 31, there is was in what appeared to be a smaller font than the rest of the agreement.

"Under FIFA and British Football regulation, players may refuse treatment from club-appointed medical staff for any reason, including but not limited to feelings of fear, discomfort, lack of safety, and lack of confidence. Providers will be compensated on a fee-for-service basis, where compensation is scaled based on the number of players consistently treated. Should more than 40% of players request alternative treatment, the club may terminate the contract with the provider before the term of the contract has elapsed."

Your eyes widened, brows knitted together in confusion and borderline disgust. Women in medicine were already at a disadvantage, and that increased tenfold for women in sports medicine. Should the players feel uncomfortable with you because of your sex or age, you could spontaneously be out of a job after picking up and moving your whole life?!

Before you could pick up the phone and tell Steve that he would need to find someone else to fill this cursed position, a buzzing came from your bag. Who was calling your work phone?

"Hello?"

"Good evening Doctora y/l/n, hope that your visit at Chelsea went well." Andreas was Xavi's secretary, and he was the closest thing you would ever get to the cast of The Devil Wears Prada. He was rather cold in the way that he spoke, but never rude. Well dressed and straight to the point - commanding of respect.

"Went very well, Andreas. I got to meet-"

"Mister Xavi has asked for your presence on the flight back to Barcelona to discuss your future with the club. It is of the utmost importance that this meeting occur as soon as possible. So you need to be in Heathrow by tonight at 11pm for check in with the rest of the team."

"But my flight back to Barcelona is tomorrow and I-"

"You'll be fully reimbursed for the cost of changing your travel. We are leaving from Terminal 2. Have a wonderful evening."

Just like that, you were wondering how fast you could pack everything and leave in the next 6 hours when your personal phone buzzed in your lap.

[Pablo]: I know u said u need space but

[Pablo]: i rlly need to talk to u

[Pablo]: can i meet you somewhere?

Heart racing, you typed back as fast as you could with trembling fingers, telling him that you would be so happy to meet him, giving him the address of a café near your hotel. You didn't want him to see what your salary could actually afford (since Chelsea didn't cover your travel accommodations). You let out a sigh of relief. He wanted to see you. He wanted to speak with you. He wasn't completely lost.

~

Packing had been fast - you had only brought the essentials to London to avoid paying a bag fee on the budget airline you had traveled. Fixing yourself in the mirror, you let out a deep sigh. What were you even going to say to Pablo? Begging for forgiveness seemed the most logical choice. You practiced your apology in the mirror, and yet froze every time. How would you respond when he asked you why? Why it had been so easy for you to push him away, to strike him down, to make him feel so utterly unimportant to you and your life? You didn't know how you would respond.

Feelings of the heart are often the easiest to articulate. They're not like emotions. Emotions are straight forward: happiness, anger, sadness, jealousy. Things that were caused by one identifiable source, and could be expressed easily with words and actions. But the matters that went beyond feeling, those were the most difficult to understand, let alone communicate. Despite his form, it wasn't lust that drew you into Pablo. Those thoughts had made you breathe heavy and push your thighs together. The glimpses of Pablo's bare form were painted on the edge of your mind, soft skin and hard muscle, inviting you in for a touch, a taste. It was an exciting idea, but not the one that riled you up the most.

No, it was something different. It was a scene that had plagued your mind for weeks upon end, always causing you to wake in a cold sweat with a tightness in your chest, breaths labored. You pictured yourself laying on Pablo's bare chest, drawing circles on his skin as his heart beat rhythmically for you to listen to. As you drifted off, he would place a kiss on the top of your head, running a soothing hand down your spine. It wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer into him, as he whispered softly.

"Mine."

It was a magnetic pull that Pablo had, a force of nature that you were unable to escape. It could be described as nothing other than desire, like you would make the world stop spinning until the two of you were united. There was a higher force tying you to Pablo, and etched in your bones was a knowledge that you would never be able to leave him. But the sentiments died on your tongue before they could ever take to the air, never to fall on the ears of a certain Spaniard.

As your heels clicked against the city pavement, a sense of calm washed over you. He had reached out to you. There was an olive branch being extended. He was ready to hear what you had to say. Yet upon entering the small space, a different voice called out your name.

"Pedri?"

It was impossible to hide the disappointment in your voice. You had built up the confidence to come here solely based on the premise that Gavi wanted to see you. Your ego had deflated, back to feeling like utter garbage for the way you had treated the person who, in reality, was your closest friend. Before the self pity could fully sink its claws in, you noticed the full-leg brace that Pedri was sporting.

"I'm sorry that I used Pablo's phone to text you - didn't have your personal number, and it would be a little... salt-in-the-wound-ish to ask him for it right now. Especially since you asked him not to speak to you."

"I never said that!" You exclaimed a little more enthusiastically than intended, causing a couple people to glance in your direction. Pedri escorted you to a table in the corner, offering to go and get you a coffee to fight the chill of a London January.

"No please. It's completely fine. You shouldn't be standing with a torn muscle anyways."

Pedri looked at you inquisitively. He had not seen you in a while, especially with you and Gavi not on speaking terms. He had missed the quips and sarcastic comments he was able to catch during training. He missed the feeling of safety whenever you cared for himself or others on the field, as he knew that you were to be trusted with their bodies. He missed the fire you sparked in Pablo, leading to unparalleled passion and unprecedented performances. The air of natural confidence that you spoke with is what brought the smile to his face. Not hesitation or wobble in your voice. No need to consult a dozen others. Medically, you knew your shit.

"A tear? Luca told me it was only excessive strain on my hamstrings."

A scoff and an eye roll that widened Pedri's smile. "I wouldn't let Luca perform medicine on a Barbie. That's the wrong kind of brace if it's a sprain. It's immobilizing. You need something with compression - a thigh sleeve most likely. Have you been icing it?"

"How could you leave Barca when your successors are idiots like Luca?" His arms folded across the table in front of him as the realization spread across your features. You were acting like his physio on impulse.

"How did you know I was thinking about leaving?"

"Everybody knows. No one could focus on today's second half because of it. When I went down everyone was scrambling to find you and call you. Everyone, myself included, was waiting for you to run across the field, bag in those magic hands ready to come and give me a new leg. But then you weren't there. And I was just praying that Luca didn't schedule me for an amputation."

A shy smile and a breathy laugh. You met his kind eyes, piercing though you. It was surprising when you felt the wetness on your cheeks, registering you were crying only after the tears had rolled down to your chin. He brought his chair in closer, holding your hand, and you held on for dear life. Your tears were falling in earnest now, fat and fast enough to hit the table as you used Pedri as a lifeline.

"Come back to Barca."

"I can't Pedri. I've... I've just made such a mess of everything."

"You're talking about Pablo."

"I'm talking about everything. I have a player that actively hates me and is looking for every opportunity to get me fired. Everyone on the team thinks that I'm sleeping with Pablo. And Pablo - I can't even explain how much I messed up. I told him to stay away from me. To give me space. I don't want space." You rested your forehead against the cool wood of the table. "I just want him to talk to me. When you sent me that message I was so excited. I thought he was ready to forgive me."

"Don't worry for a second about Ferran. We heard about the complaint to HR and I'd be happy to speak on your behalf about the dogshit he says to you. Everyone with a brain knows you're not sleeping with Pablo - they all have so much respect for the work that you do. Dembele came to me after the match and told me to contact you. He said your first assignment for Barca was to work on his leg recovery, and it was the best treatment he's ever had." You raised your head, tears turning your eyes red and puffy as they stained your cheeks.

"This may be selfish of me to say, but I would do anything to have you stay at the club and work with me. I can't miss all of these cup games because the physios don't know what's going on. This is everything I have ever wanted in my life. And if you're the person that can help me get there, then nothing, especially not Ferran and the other airheads at the club, are going to hold me back."

He moved to grab your other hand as well, looking you straight in the eyes. There was not one indication that he was exaggerating his sentiments. He wanted to win more than he wanted to breathe.

"And Pablo? Don't worry about him."

"How can I not worry, Pedri. I was so cruel to him. He'll never speak to me again."

"Doctora, don't you know that there's no one on this earth he holds in higher regard?"

~

The terminal was surprisingly quite busy upon your arrival. It seemed that everyone was catching an international red-eye, causing you to stumble through crowds with your small bag and exhausted demeanor. You approached the airport staff, utterly lost in trying to find the meeting place. It was 10:56pm, and you didn't have the money to be missing the company-sponsored return flight.

"Excuse me, I'm with the F.C Barcelona team. Where can I check in for my flight?"

"I don't remember them becoming a unisex team.'' Your expression remained neutral as the staff member chuckled at his own joke. You didn't have time to give a lecture on the dangers of misogyny. "I need to see your Barca ID."

"I don't have my team ID badge, but if you let me speak to-"

"Don't you women have something better to do than try and fuck a footballer? Lord, you even have a suitcase and everything. I suggest that you go home and stop with these little charades - it's embarrassing."

You stood speechless as the man walked away, stationing himself in a different area of the terminal. Behind you, screams were heard coming from the door, followed by flashes of light in rapid succession.

"Gavi I love you!"

"Pedri Pedri! You're my idol!"

"Xavi have my babies!"

Your attention shifted to the security guarding the entrance as the Barca squad filtered through the doors, all dressed in coordinated pale yellow. You speed walked towards them, pace catching the attention of one of the guards.

"Miss, you need to maintain space."

Gavi turned to look at the person that was causing a disturbance. Usually it was a child who had gotten a little too excited to see their favorite players, and often the soft spot in his heart compelled him to give them a picture or signature. It was hard to have your dreams crushed as a child by a celebrity that didn't care, and he was determined not to be that type of person. That's when his eyes locked with a pair oh so familiar to him. He stood in place, frozen as his teammates narrowly avoided bumping into him and causing an awful domino effect. It felt like forever since he last looked at you this way: like you were the only person in the room.

"Ah, Doctora y/n, glad Andreas was able to coordinate with you. Sir, she's with us." Xavi's word was law, as usual, and you were allowed to pass through with the rest of the group, ushered to a more private area of the terminal, the screams of fans echoing behind you.

Pablo watched as you stood alongside the coach, chattering away about God knows what. Eric and Pedri were beside him, making conversation about the new additions introduced in the FIFA update.

"Did you know she was going to be here?" Gavi asked, interrupting Pedri's rant about how expensive different skins and expansions were. He had been desperate to see you, thinking of all the ways he might reconcile once he saw you again. But not now. He wasn't ready to face you - not ready to be told 'no' again. For the first time in years, a cold vein of fear ran through him. Was this it? Were you handing in your resignation, coming to Spain only to collect your things before moving to the gray fogginess of the Premier League?

"Yeah. We had a little chat earlier." Say what you want about the IQ of footballers, but Pedri was incredibly intelligent. He himself had given up a career in medicine to explore football greatness. This meant he was smart enough to have deleted the messages that he sent from Pablo's phone before he did his 78th re-read of all your text messages. He was also smart enough to figure out that Gavi had wanted you practically since he laid eyes on you. Contrary to what many may think, Gavi didn't really look at girls. He was usually absorbed in conversation with a friend, whether in person or virtually, and was not prone to looking at every pretty girl that crossed his path. He was hard to please and even harder to impress. So when he started seeking you out more often, mentioning you during random drives, he knew that Pablito was infatuated.

It was several months, however, before Pedri realized the extent of Pablo's affection towards you. It had been during the international break, when Pedri sat and played FIFA with Nico, the only worthy opponent among La Roja. Pablo was half watching the game, half staring at the illuminated screen when he stood suddenly. Pedri watched from the corner of his eye as Gavi stepped out onto the balcony in shorts and his training shirt in the bitter chill of December. When the match had ended (3-1 to him of course), he followed the younger outside, and found him with his phone pointed towards the horizon. The sun in its retirement had painted the sky the most vibrant shades of oranges and pinks, bleeding into a royal purple. The hazy, circular glow kept the sky warm, and the colors stretched out over the wide expanse of the city, painting everything in the golden light of dusk. That's when Pedri heard the shutter click.

"Since when do you take pictures of the sunset?" He was teasing again. It was always fun to rile up his fiery teammate.

"I'm sending them to the doctora. It's so pretty, I want her to see it."

"Isn't she in Barcelona right now? She's probably looking at the same sunset."

"But it's just so beautiful from this high up." Gavi said, eyes still transfixed on his phone as he searched for the most worthy flick to send you. "I just want to send her something beautiful. I want to send her every beautiful thing in the world."

Yes, Pedri was a smart man. Smart enough to see that Pablo's feelings to you were stronger than he had ever experienced for another. Probably the strongest he had ever experienced at all. He was smart enough to approach Alejandro and Ansu, while Gavi chewed on his lip at the prospect of speaking to you, to organize the seating during the flight home.

~

"Don't get too comfortable, Doctora. You'll be joining me upfront for a chat after takeoff." You laughed politely at Xavi as he boarded the plane. You gathered your things, acutely aware of Ferran's gaze on you while you bent over.

"Have a good time at Chelsea? Try and ruin any lives while there?" He asked, voice laced with annoyance. HR had approached him about your complaint, informing him that they would be asking other players and staff about comments made at your expense. While he could keep his friends quiet, he had done too much to piss off Gavi, leaving him vulnerable to everyone in his camp. His only hope was to get you to leave before the investigation had concluded.

"I would prefer we didn't speak about non-professional matters. Thank you, Ferran." You said, smiling so sweetly he felt his teeth throb. You boarded the plane last with the rest of the staff, Luca rushing past you like he would be left behind if he wasn't seated soon. Glancing down at your ticket, you read out your seat number. Row 6, seat G. Walking onto the aircraft, you were stunned by the beauty of the first class cabin. It was furnished completely with plush leather, with every two or three seats getting their own dividers from the rest of the passengers. You walked to row 6, and made your way across the aisle to the right side of the plane where your seat was meant to be. In row 6, seat F, sat Pablo. He looked up at the aisle at the sound of shuffling, and the two of you just stared at one another, wordlessly communicating a shared hurt. All you wanted was to pull him in and say how sorry you were. You just didn't know if he'd be ready to accept.

"Um, I think I'm in the seat next to you." You told him sheepishly. He moved from his place, allowing you to sit next to him by the window.

"I thought the staff usually sits together." He said, trying to prevent it from sounding like a complaint, because it truly wasn't. He wondered what force of fate had allowed your seat to be placed next to his. Little did he know that fate was from the Canary Islands. You sat next to him, adjusting your seat and the belt, before bouncing your leg nervously. The speed increased when you felt the vibration of the engine, watching the plane move from its parked space onto the runway. You wanted to say something - anything - but your throat was dry and the words failed you. You didn't know what to say to ensure that you would be forgiven. That was probably the scariest part: knowing that the forgiveness may never come.

"Are you afraid of flying?"

You turned your head at the question. Gavi's eyes were fixated on your sweatpants-clad thigh as it bounced at incredible speeds. There were many things you were scared of in that moment, but the plane didn't help quell any of them. You were going to be stuck next to Pablo for the next two hours at the least. The anxiety of not knowing how he felt towards you gnawed at your skin, eating you alive. You nodded your head, because in all honesty, it was the same fear, wasn't it? Flying, falling - all terrifying prospects.

Gavi put one airpod in, extending the other to you. It was a peace offering, the olive branch you had waited for. You accepted it graciously, muttering a quiet thank you as you slotted it into place. Your body turned back towards the window, 'Sky full of stars' playing softly in the right half of your brain. As the plane continued to move slowly down the runway, you felt a hand rest atop yours, bringing your bouncing leg to a halt. The skin on skin sent shockwaves through you, electricity running up and down your arm. His hand moved sideways, sliding under yours to lift, and then proceeding to interlock your fingers. The warmth of Pablo's hand, the strength of his grip. The slight squeeze as the plane began picking up speed. Despite lacking the confidence to look at him directly, you peaked at your joined hands. Pablo was here. And through the presses of his fingers and the soothing motion of his thumb, he reminded you that Pablo would always be here, so long as you would have him.

"y/n, Mister Xavi would like to see you now."

You hadn't even realized your hand was still laced with Pablo's until one of the assistant coaches came to collect you. Gavi had drifted off into a light sleep, waking as he felt the cold hit his once warm palm. He grabbed your wrist as you tried to follow the assistant coach.

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

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

This was your first time on a plane that had a lounge. The coaching staff was spread across all four sofas, drinking champagne and discussing the efforts from this trip. Xavi sat at a table, an empty seat across from him.

"Doctora, welcome back from Chelsea. Did you enjoy your visit?" He asked, offering your a flute that you politely declined.

"It was wonderful. The staffand players were all great. I'm grateful for the opportunity."

Xavi raised an eyebrow at the diplomatic answer. You were not giving him much of an indication as to your decision. He reached into his bag and extracted a medical file, sliding it over to you.

"As I'm sure you saw on TV and online, Pedri suffered quite a severe injury during the Man U match. Pedri is a key component of our midfield, and Luca has estimated eight to ten weeks for his recovery. I'd like you to take a look at his medical examination report and recommend a course of treatment."

You took the papers in your hand, looking at Xavi cautiously. What was the purpose of this exercise?

"Well, I've already told Pedri that his brace was incorrect, and gave him the specifications for a sleeve to buy once we return home. The eight to ten weeks metric is based on the healing with this immobilization boot. Using the correct compression sleeves and ice, as well as rest, Pedri should be back on in 4 weeks. Five if you want to be safe. That would mean his first appearance back would be the SuperCopa semifinals."

Xavi laughed to himself, collecting the files and returning them to their place. He pulled out another sheet of documents, the words "Adjusted Contract" in bold at the top.

"Doctora y/l/n, it has become increasingly evident as I watch you practice and treat our players that you are a generational talent in sports medicine. You have a deep understanding of the body that few others, both in the club and outside, can fully grasp. At Barca, we strive to do everything in our power to keep generational talents in Camp Nou. I would like you to consider remaining at the club until the summer, when contract renegotiations occur. This would allow you to see out a season that you have contributed so greatly to."

"Why the new contract now then?"

"Just a few clause adjustments. Firstly, we have increased your compensation to absorb your living costs. Those will now be covered by the club. The other change is on this page here. It states that your main focus must be on starters, injured prioritized before healthy. So, if you choose to accept, Pedri would be the top priority as an injured starter. You would dedicate all the necessary time to his treatment."

You scanned the document, and it was just as he said. No other nonsense, just the clauses on compensation and prioritization.

"This is all so flattering sir, but..." Your voice trailed off, shy to speak in front of a legend and the man holding your future in his hands.

"What can we do to make this deal irrefutable?"

"The contract is perfect sir. What I would need is a promise from you. Chelsea's base compensation was higher, but the compensation was based on the number of services the medical staff provides. I could be fired at any moment if not enough players were comfortable being treated by me. I felt, or well rather I didn't feel the sense of loyalty, of family, that I get as Barca. And so I would need a promise from you."

"Name your demand."

"When the summer comes and my contract needs to be renegotiated, keep me on the team. Don't try and pawn me off to someone else. This is my team, my club, my family. So you have to promise me that I have a future here, or else I'll save the heartbreak and leave now."

Xavi placed a pen on the table, bringing his chair forward to be as close as possible to you. "Doctora, you are an incredible and frankly priceless asset to us. We were able to hand select you from the best of the best new physios in Spain. Our successes, any trophies and titles, we owe them in part to you. Help me finish the season with a strong and healthy squad, and I swear to you on my life that you will have a place at Barca until the day you die." He stretched out his hand, and you took a deep breath, meeting the shake midway. It felt weird, signing your contract again, but for more money. You definitely didn't expect to be in this position before you've even graduated, but it brought a pride to your soul. Xavi saw something in you. A generational talent. Somebody believed in what you could do.

You returned to your seat and found that it was Gavi's turn to bounce his leg. You sat down, and he followed you with his eyes. After a moment of silence, he spoke.

"Did you enjoy your trip?"

"Very much so. I got to meet Joao Felix."

Gavi's face turned to you, catching the beaming smile that broke out across your face.

"Yeah? You like him in person, or was he a disappointment?"

"He was less... dreamy than I had anticipated. But still sweet nonetheless. It was a cool experience."

Gavi responded with a hum, turning his music back on and looking away from you. His other airpod sat on the tray table, right where you left it.

"Pablo," it was your turn to rest a hand on his bouncing leg, "we have to talk."

Pablo turned to you, eyes sad and lip between his teeth. "Do we? I feel like you've said everything there is to say." He knew he was being difficult. He knew he was being petty. But Pablo could not let himself get hurt again, especially not in front of the entire team. If he was going to mourn your departure, it was going to be in the comfort of his own guest bed, the one piece of furniture he could sleep on for 7 continuous hours because it held no memories of you. It was your turn to find his fingers and slot them between your own.

"I didn't mean it. Any of it. I have so many reasons why I didn't mention meeting you, Pablo, but I'm just not brave enough to tell you yet. It wasn't because it wasn't important. It could never be. You are one of the most important people in my life. You're one of the only people I have left. Please don't push me away."

His eyes met yours, and he knew there was no way he could remain angry. It was you, after all. The person that made Pablo believe in the possibility of a soulmate. The one that Gavi thought of whenever songs about incredible love came up on his playlist. You were it. He gripped your hand tighter.

"Going to be hard to support you from several countries away, but I will try my best."

"You don't have to. I'm staying."

Gavi's eyes widened, face lighting up like a kid who had just been gifted an entire candy store. "You're staying?"

"Mhm. Barca is my home. My family. No matter how bad it gets, I could never leave this place behind." It felt as though you spoke those words right into his soul, breathing life back into his very being. You were staying. Your voice, your laugh, your energy - all of it would be at Camp Nou, waiting on the sidelines as he fought tooth and nail to capture your attention. "And plus, Pedri and Xavi basically begged me to come back so Luca doesn't have to treat him."

Gavi let a laugh fill his lungs and spill from his throat, maybe a little louder than necessary on a midnight flight. But he was feeling genuine joy course through his veins. He was a man on death row with a second chance at life. He removed his hand from your grip, bringing to above you and resting it across your shoulders. Professionalism be damned. He just wanted to be close to you right now.

"Xavi was more convincing than Joao? I bet that would be a blow to his ego if he found out." It was comfortable, sitting with Pablo in this way. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to be this close to him. You pushed up the hand rest so that the two of you could get even closer. Professionalism be damned. They wouldn't fire you while Pedri was still limping.

"Oh yeah. Portugal boy is cute, but Xavi in 2010? That was my first love. I could never refuse a request from him." More giggles from Gavi. You wished you would bottle this moment, eager to make his happiness perpetual. He was human sunshine, and he deserved every light and happy and beautiful moment life could offer.

"The spiky hair? Really?"

"Shut up!" Coupled with a smack to the chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, exhaustion of the day and its stressors finally catching up to you. "Every man looks hotter when carrying a trophy."

Gavi let out a light laugh, turning to hide his blush. Yet another motivation to lift as many cups as possible this season. He offered you his other airpod again, which you accepted, inserting it as a soft melody filled your ears. Your eyelids were heavy, and you were drifting in and out of consciousness.

"One day, we'll need to talk about it properly, you know." Pablo said from above you, voice soft and serious.

You nodded your head, letting out a quiet "Mhm" in a agreement. You knew it was an inevitable conversation. You would have to eventually face the music, let Gavi free himself from whatever feelings were sitting on his chest. But you couldn't do it now. Not with your future up in the air. Not with your feelings for Gavi still a massive tangle of emotions.

"Not tonight." You said to him softly, as he turned his head to meet your eyes.

"No, not tonight."

Your eyes finally closed and you began drifting off. Pablo's arm remained wrapped around you as he leaned in closer, basically cuddling you on this plane. Thank the lord for blessing the engineers with enough foresight to install dividers. As you breathed rhythmically against his chest, he pressed his nose into your hair, breathing deeply. Why was everything about you so intoxicating?

In the haze of your sleep, you heard Pablo speaking to you. You listened intently, hoping to catch these special words that he only released to your sleeping form.

"Doctora, I would wait for you forever. Even when you hit rock bottom, I'll be there, waiting for you with a ladder. You will always have me, no matter what."

~~~~~~~

A/N: Guys I did it!!! My longest part to date! I am so flipping tired. It's 4am. I don't remember a time before I started writing this part. Anyways, we are chugging along y'all! Only two parts left in the main story!! I surpassed my 15k word goal. Maybe next part is 18k? I think the next part is going to be my favorite. I haven't decided if I want the big boom pow event to be in part 9 or 10. We will see. Again, apologies for the long time between updates, but semi-decent writing takes time. As usual, please leave thoughts, feedback, predictions, etc. in the replies - I love reading all of them so much!!! If you notice any easter eggs/ small details, feel free to point them out!!! There are so many and I love when y'all get them. IDK when part 9 is coming out but when it's done y'all will be the first to know. Ok love y'all byeeeee.

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 @lavie3nrose @ge0rg1ewaa @i8yul @lovefordilfs271 @remuslupinluver @thattaylorswiftobsessedbitch @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @kaismybabe @notanenthucutlet @fullsun9890 @venomwh0re @renaissancewhxre @gaviandgrizisgirl @altgojo @urmomdotcom5678 @eliseline @invidia-of-alhambra @pixwls @stell4rrrs @80sloverry @car1no-xx @mrsgavira @888bear @kylianmbappee @ivyhrry @gaviypedrisbride @grlwithprblms @dessxoxsworld @user6373738

[toomuchracket]

idk if we’ve discussed this already but thinking about bday girly and matty fucking in the bathroom at an award ceremony/after party… like maybe girly is presenting an award and matty is in full trophy bf mode and can’t get enough of her <3

bonus points if charli is also there and is all 😏😏😏 when they come back

lowkey could be brits they get random people to present awards!! maybe you're there doing that, and while the band aren't nominated this year bea is and matty and g go to support her, and charli will not miss a party for anything so she tags along too lol. you sit with them before you have to work, sipping champagne and being kissed by matty and swaying in your chair with him during the performances until someone comes to get you to take you backstage, at which point you give him a kiss and he's like "go and show them how it's done, baby" lmfao. a few mins later, matty truly cannot take his eyes off you when you walk down the catwalk stage in your sexy little dress (vintage westwood) to the mic - like, the internet goes mental because the camera cuts to him during this and he's VISIBLY hot and bothered biting his lip looking at you lustfully - and when you crack a couple of jokes before announcing the nominees he giggles and then looks at you adoringly the whole time. like, bro doesn't even register who wins because he's so focused on you and how gorgeous and accomplished you are; when you get back to the table, he just tugs you onto his lap for a kiss and cuddle and a lengthy monologue about "god you were so beautiful up there. and funny!! and really natural. i honestly believe there's nothing that you can't do, darling. m'proud of you, really proud. i love you", and then after that he's just snapping loads of pics of you "being cute" and posting several to insta main feed (the big leagues) in real-time like "awed by her always. especially in that corset. but always. love her sm!!" lol. at the afterparty, you're the one doing most of the mingling, despite it being his domain more than yours - matty's more than content to just say hi to a few people and spend most of the evening hanging off your arm like the world's hottest handbag and continue looking at you with such adoration, and then dance with you (read: grind on you and makeout) in a dimly-lit corner after a few more drinks. you sneak off when he begs to make you feel good, and let him bend you over a sink in the bathroom "so you can see how fucking gorgeous you are. been hard since you got me to lace you into that dress, angel, just wanted to do this with you the whole night. fucking love you, my talented, perfect girl". it's quick, but really fucking good, as always, and you walk back to the table all giggly and honestly slightly wobbly; most people would put it down to you being tipsy, but charli knows what's up, smirking at you like "nice little lipstick mark you left on his neck, babe. really brings out his eyes. d'you have fun?", and you nod like "oh yeah. in fact... matty, let's go home and do it again" lmfao. he's not complaining <3

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

Chapter 12.

I quickly tidied up my small apartment after everyone had left, resulting in me crashing on the couch. I sighed contently, pulling out my phone as I felt it buzz.

jake: so when is you amd Johnnie's wedding?

me: you've used that joke like 10 times get better

jake: shut up but fr whats going onnnn

me: jake you literally love with him idk why you're asking me cause idk

me: live*

jake: yes y/n I'm in love with johnnie

jake: oh.

me: shut up 😭

jake: ig I'll go have a chat with johnnje

me: that's not scary at all

jake: :)

me: ok lmk please

jake: sorry, bro code still exists

me: oh my GOOOOD jake I swear

me: whatever goodnight twink

jake: nighty night

I left him on read and got up, making my way into my bedroom. of course, the one thing I forgot to do was make my bed. you could still see the way the covers were twisted from where me and johnnie laid. I smiled softly to myself, sitting down on the bed and undressing.

my phone went off once more. I rolled my eyes, assuming it was jake coming back to bully me more. i picked up my phone off the night stand and read the message I had gotten.

mom: hey honey! how have you been? me and your father will be coming to town in March to check on you and the cafe. well see you soon! miss you bunches.

I didn't bother opening the message, internally groaning at the thought of having to see my parental figures for more than a day. every time they visited, they'd stay around a week and constantly harass me. it always messed up my whole schedule, and now it'd be even worse with johnnie, jake, and Tara in my life. I wouldn't hear the end of it from them. I'd get my ear chewed off by them, saying my friends are weird or stupid shit that wasn't true. if they weren't the perfect people, then they were nobody to my parents. it was dissapointing to me, and honestly embarrassing. i tossed my phone onto the nightstand and placed my hands over my face, sighing loudly. my phone vibrated loudly, startling me out of my exasperated state. i groaned, assuming it was someone i wouldn't be very happy talking to. i let it ring a little longer before reading the caller ID. my phone read "johnnie." i flew out of my bed, snatching my phone. i answered his face time call after making sure my hair wasn't a mess.

"hello?" johnnies raspy voice came through the phone, making me face heat up. he was close to the camera, i was only able to see his nose and eyes.

"Hi, johnnie." I smiled, matching his camera angle. "what's up?"

"I'm bored and playing fortnite alone." he said, propping his phone up.

"oh shit, I've never really played fortnite." I admitted.

"we gotta change that." he smirked. "i'll have to teach you how to play next time you come over."

i smiled, "okay."

it went silent for a bit, allowing me to examine his makeup. he had streaks of eyeliner coming down one eye with bright blue eyeshadow around and on his eyelid. somehow, he noticed me staring. he obviously had an amazing eye, considering we were on the phone and not in person. "what?" he giggled, a light blush showing through his makeup.

"i don't know, i like your makeup." i looked at the ceiling instead of the phone, laying down to get comfortable. i propped my phone up on my nightstand.

"really?" his smile grew, "you should let me do yours sometime. i mean, i usually don't like doing other peoples, but i think it'd be fun with you."

i wondered what made me different than anyone else, but i didn't bother asking. i rubbed my eyes and muttered, "sounds fun."

"you tired?" he asked, his whole demeanor changing as i heard shooting coming from the background. his hands fondled with the controller swiftly as he fought the other player. his eyebrows scrunched together as he focused, his smiling dropping.

"i mean, yeah." i laughed at him. "that seems intense."

he tossed his hands up in the air in defeat. "what the fuck, dude." i continued to laugh at him, causing him to look at the phone. "wow."

"i'm sorry, it's just funny as fuck seeing you like this." i explained, gently closing my eyes.

he rolled his eyes playfully. "whatever." he had a small smile on his face as he loaded into the next match. "you know what else would be fun?"

"hm?"

"if we went to a concert together." he pondered. "have you ever been to a concert before?"

"no, just school concerts." i said. "who would we even go see?"

"i don't know. my chemical romance, really whoever's in town." he paused. "that we like."

"well, obviously. you like my chemical romance?" i asked, surprised.

"is it not obvious?" he giggled.

i rolled my eyes. "whatever. mcr is one of my favorite bands, though. i never hear about anyone who likes them anymore."

"i love them too." he smiled at me.

the silence began to lull me to sleep, along with johnnies presence on the other side of the phone. my eyes began to feel heavy, and i eventually fell asleep.

[jinnify]

love bomb — lee heeseung

pairing: heeseung x reader genre: fluff warnings: cursing i think and idk if there's mention of 'y/n' word count: 0.7k now playing: giddy by kep1er author's note: interrupting our regularly scheduled program to post this cute heeseung one shot bc blonde heeseung brain rot ^^

You exaggeratedly sighed as you noticed Heeseung walk into your living room from his trip to the restroom. Lately, he had been busier than usual, practice picking up again for comeback promotions. Although he'd try to call you every break he got, it was often too late into the night. Today was one of his few off days. He'd called you early in the morning, hurriedly explaining that he was already en route to your apartment.

When you heard your doorbell ring, you expected endless kisses and cuddles. Not for Heeseung to kiss your cheek as he flew by you and directly to your couch. It had been about five hours since then, and in that amount of time, he'd barely spoken to you, too engrossed in the game on the screen in front of him. This brings you to your current predicament, increasingly obnoxiously sighing until Heeseung noticed you were there.

You were getting upset at this point. You don't see Heeseung for two weeks, and instead of him being happy to see you, he's elated to see your PlayStation! This was an injustice. You felt neglected and annoyed. You put down the book you were pretending to read as an idea came to mind. You would not say TikTok is the best place to go for solutions, but you were getting desperate.

And you had recently forgotten your password to Pinterest.

Whatever. Don't knock it ‘till you try it. 

You typed “how to get my boyfriend's attention” into the search bar, immediately bombarded by cringy forty-year-olds making fake scenarios and teenagers giving awful relationship advice. With an unconscious scrunch of the nose, you closed the app, regretting asking TikTok for help. At this point, you were just plain bored. What fun is it to have your boyfriend over if you aren't going to spend the time together?

Heeseung would have said you were spending time “together” if you had said that out loud. You scrolled for hours, only looking up from your phone whenever Heeseung repositioned himself before a new match started. Your scrolling continued until you came across a post, a woman making little “coupons” for whenever she wanted something from her husband. A dozen little papers, each with requests and “discount” written on them, were folded up into little stars for her husband to pick at random. You could always count on Instagram for two things, stolen content and cheesy couple ideas. This post is both.

Although it was a cheesy and borderline cringey idea, you liked it. Let's say it's the hopeless romantic in you. So, you got up in search of color construction paper. You were only going to be making one to save yourself some pride. You found one in the perfect shade of pink, grabbing a red glitter pen and a pair of scissors on your way to your kitchen table.

You quickly cut and decorated it, writing “two hours of cuddle time!” in big, bold, glittery letters. It was honestly cute. You held the small paper up, admiring your beautiful penmanship before making your way to the living room, holding it behind your back.

“Hey, baby,” Heesung quickly greeted, never taking his eyes off the screen. You rolled your eyes as you stood to the side, hoping he’d ask you what you were doing. “Ahem!” you cleared your throat, trying to catch his attention again.

When all Heeseung did was nod, you huffed, slamming the coupon onto his chest, giving up, and stomping to your room. Heeseung quickly said goodbye to his friends, grabbing the small paper that had fallen off the floor.

To say he felt guilty was an understatement.

He walked over to your room after turning off your console, knocking softly. “Go away! You missed your opportunity, loser!” You belatedly added the petty insult, assuring  Heeseung that you weren’t too angry at him, just slightly annoyed. “I’m sorry, my love. Let me in, and you can finally get those cuddles you wanted!” 

“Hm, that sounds tempting! But it’s not enough! You had to say sorry and stay over tonight if you wanna be forgiven!” you shouted, hoping he’d agree. “That sounds good, baby. Now let me in before I break down this door,” Heeseung playfully threatened, jiggling the doorknob aggressively.

You were greeted by Heeseung’s gorgeous smile, “I’d like to redeem this, please.” He handed you the coupon you had made, scooping you into his arms and carrying you over to your bed. “Now, we’re gonna lay here and cuddle for the next two hours! And you’re gonna like it!” You scoffed, “Hey! You were the one who ignored me for almost six hours!”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I got carried away, but I promise I’m all yours until tomorrow.”

© jinnify — reblogs appreciated

[prettyyoungandbored]

Be Careful

Pairing: Johnny Knoxville x Reader

Warnings: language, slight fluff, female reader, idk

Author’s Note: I have no business writing this, but I did. So yeah.

NOT MY GIF

The alarm clock read 1:15 A.M. as Y/N exhaled softly.

Her eyes darted back to the television where some black and white movie played. She was half paying attention to it, her mind elsewhere and eyes mostly shifting between the clock and her cell phone.

She was invited to go to the bar with the guys, but she declined, exhausted from spending the day organizing their medical records. She shouldn’t have offered, but considering how frequent the trips to the hospital were, she figured it would be useful for each of them to have a binder that contained important medical documents in the event of an emergency.

Jeff was beyond thankful for it and she was happy to help considering Johnny wouldn’t let her do any stunts lately.

Even though Johnny was a pro at what he did, she still worried. Going through his medical binder was a kick in the stomach for her. His was the most personal considering he was her fiancé. She often worried when she got calls from the guys if it was going to be that “one call.” When they called “action” and she watched Johnny begin, she said a mental prayer begging for him to make it out alive.

The door opened and Johnny appeared, smiling.

“Hey there, cutie,” he greeted her, before bending down to untie his red converse. “Thought you’d be asleep.”

“I tried but just couldn’t seem to keep them closed,” she said, reaching over to turn the light on for him. “Did you guys have fun?”

“Sure did,” he replied, throwing off his jacket and tossing it onto the chair in the corner. “You know how it is. I wish I could say you didn’t miss much, but we spent the night helping get Tyler the PA laid.”

She cracked a smile. “It’s the least you boys could do considering you made him mud wrestle Bam.”

He laughed. “That was the logic.”

He pulled down his jeans before crawling into bed beside her in his boxers and graphic tee. He propped his elbow up, resting his cheek against the palm of his hand.

“I really did miss you tonight,” he said, using his other hand to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I was a little bummed you didn’t come out with us.”

“I know.” She exhaled. “Honestly, I just needed to decompress.”

“Seemed like you were having an off day,” he noted. “You wanna talk about it?”

“I know you know what you’re doing and I trust you,” she said. “It’s important to me that you know that. It’s just, going through your medical records was a hard pill for me to swallow. I get worried that one prank will be one that either kills you or leaves you with some permanent injury or that these injuries eventually…”

She paused, realizing how pathetic she sounded. She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I-.”

“Don’t apologize for that,” he said. “I’m fucking serious. Don’t.”

“No but-.”

“No - hey, look at me. Open your eyes and look at me.”

She opened her eyes to find him smiling at her. The same smile that made her weak in the knees when she first saw it.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said. “I know it’s a lot for you, and I can’t thank you enough for standing by me and putting up with this shit even when it’s hard to deal with.”

“It’s not that I deal with it. It’s just me getting worried because I love you.” She gave him a small smile. “I told you I’m not going anywhere and I meant it. No amount of concussions or broken limbs or any other injuries is gonna change that. All I ask that you be careful, ok?”

“I will,” he promised, kissing the top of her head. “But only because I think you’re cute.”

She snorted. “That’s the only reason, huh?”

He nodded. “Pretty much. It’s really the only reason I’m marrying you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then I guess it’s ok for me to say I’m only marrying you because the sex is great.”

He shrugged. “Works for me. Now, c’mere.”

He pulled her body under his, peppering her face with quick kisses. “Just one more week then you and I head off to Vegas.”

“Having second thoughts?”

“Never. I’m all in, baby.” He pulled his head back for a sec. “Are you?”

“Not a chance, Clapp. I’m in it for the long haul.” She paused. “Unless, of course, I decide to marry the Elvis impersonator instead. I’ll figure it once we get there.”