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#this has been giffed 10 times probably but i had to
tinnchan · 1 year
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LAWS OF ATTRACTION (2023) - EPISODE 5 Oh, love, are you floating down to me or what? Casting a spell on my heart, I’m enamored Is this love really from the heart? Or are you teasing me, letting me watch what I’ve been waiting for?
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charlie-rulerofhell · 1 month
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Ep. 1: In Throes of Increasing Wonder
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directed by: Alan Taylor cinematography by: David Tattersall
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The beauty of Interview with the Vampire: 1/15
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wen-kexing-apologist · 5 months
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Episode 10: The Couch
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Wow @lurkingshan, it’s like you really know me! This scene is exactly what I was going to talk about for Episode 10 because the fucking TENSION put so much weight in to the air when I was watching that I could hardly breathe. 
CHRIS CHIU
THE ACTOR THAT YOU ARE
Scene Breakdown time!
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First of all, I love the little couple dynamic moments we get between Lili and San Pang, where Lili has to tap San Pang in to Yuan and Qian’s fight. San Pang arrives and in a very strategic move informed by knowing Qian and Yuan for a significant amount of their lives, he arrives with food he knows will go over well with Qian and will test Yuan’s ears (he comes down the stairs from his room to throw the food away after all). 
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Which, let’s just acknowledge that when Yuan comes downstairs and takes all the alcohol and greasy food away, the moment Yuan approaches the coffee table, Qian looks back towards the TV screen pretending he is disinterested in the situation at hand. But his eyes give him away because he keeps glancing at Yuan when he thinks he can steal a second. And stealing is what he is trying to do because he keeps his head pointed directly towards the television, while looking for half a second at Yuan out of the corner of his eye when Yuan leans over to collect the food. After that moment, Qian does not look towards Yuan again until Yuan has turned around and Qian can stare at his back. 
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It must be said. Chris is a phenomenal actor, because even without seeing his face, just the top of his head, you can kind of tell the mood that Qian is in as Yuan walks away, because he turns towards Yuan. We see Yuan look in Qian’s direction, Qian moves his head further back to look at San Pang, then looks away shaking his head. I acknowledge I’m probably reading too much in to it, but I can feel the incredulity radiating off of that head shake. 
Yuan heads up the stairs, and Qian looks towards the staircase only after Yuan has disappeared. His head movement is so much more obvious than his previous motions that it literally looks like Qian is breaking character, or like he was previously frozen and had only now been allowed to breathe. Qian’s eyes look up towards the staircase (towards Yuan’s absence), then downward as he thinks about his next move, then back towards San Pang, then down once more as he makes a decision about whether or not he wants to Start The Conversation. 
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gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul (my savior)
Qian here is trying to check that Yuan is out of earshot because he Will Not have the The Conversation about His Feelings if there is a chance that Yuan will know about it. 
With the heaviest of sighs, Qian gives San Pang an opening: “Did you buy those for me, or for him to throw away?”  Qian asks, and once again looks out of the corner of his eye, getting serious “Or for him to throw away?” 
And there is no doubt in my mind that it is the latter. San Pang bringing food that would trigger Yuan’s care instincts towards Qian, cause Yuan to intervene, and San Pang to bear witness to the tense and angry energy from Yuan towards Qian and force the issue. I think it’s partially why Qian does not deliberate for long in starting the conversation despite his hesitancy. 
San Pang scoffs and says in response “He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t care about you. Xiao Yuan can’t bear to leave you alone.” holds up the salad as a physical example of the care that Yuan has for Qian. 
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gifs by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
Qian gives another giant exhale and looks contemplative. Something that I do find really important in good acting is the use of internal monologue. Qian always has something on his mind that he is sitting with. And the benefit of a scene like this is that the production team, and the camera trust the strength of their actors to hold the silence that settles over the room as Chris runs the gambit of Qian’s internal thoughts. 
Qian is well and truly sitting with the acknowledgement of Yuan’s feelings from San Pang. Maybe I am wrong because I am not an actor, but I do not have the kind of intentional and conscious control over my face to have the kinds of lip twitches that Chris has when Qian is thinking about Yuan’s care for him. They may have twenty seconds of silence on screen, but that does not mean the scene isn’t still in motion. There are so many little things happening in the span between San Pang’s comment about Yuan and his next reflection on sending Yuan away. 
“Xiao Yuan can’t bear to leave you alone,” Qian turns that over in his mind, to me it’s like he’s feeling the weight of it on his tongue, in his body. Qian looks up, and then around, and tosses the remote to the side, breathes heavily again. That feels like a begrudging acceptance of the statement. At the very least it is permission from Qian to proceed with the difficult conversation. 
“Before I had Yuan leave the country, I had been thinking I was doing the right thing for you two. But seriously, be honest, did you feel empty when Yuan was away?”
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gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
Qian blinks twice and we cut to a flashback of a lovely little isolated frame of Qian feeling Yuan’s absence. We cut back to a close up of Qian’s face and his lip twitches. Which I love because it feels like an involuntary admission. We know Qian, we know that boy is stubborn and stoic, that he muscles through all the pain, that he does not let many people see his weaknesses. San Pang asks Qian if he felt empty and Qian does. not. move. He holds exactly the same position, lounging on the couch with his hand behind his head like he is unmoved, unaffected by San Pang’s question. But that little twitch of his lip gives him away. San Pang has struck a nerve. San Pang has forced Qian to hold a spotlight to the feelings he’s been trying to numb for the last four years. 
“Let me tell you something. When Lili and I first got together,” 
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I don’t know about anyone else, but I snorted at the way Qian turned his head to look at San Pang in warning. We still have not seen Qian approve of that relationship. And San Pang knows that he’s staring at the precipice of some truly hot water, which is why he follows up with a “hear me out.” 
Qian relaxes and once again turns to look away from San Pang. From San Pang’s position very little of Qian’s face is visible. So Qian keeps holding a position that will give San Pang as little of a chance of reading him as possible. 
“I’ve struggled too. I…I always wondered what happiness could I bring her? Was I doing the right thing? How could I face you? And then…I felt it wasn’t right. Life is too short.”
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gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
Again, I just have to say. CHRIS CHIU IS A PHENOMENAL ACTOR. He does not move a muscle, but you know Qian is locked in on what San Pang is saying because of how he moves his eyes. When San Pang says “life is too short” you can actually see the moment where Qian starts paying more attention to San Pang’s words, because he looks away from the TV and more downward in thought. 
“Getting hung up over it for years, would it be worth all the lost time?” 
Chris changes how he breathes here. You can see Qian take in a deep breath, but he holds it for a few seconds, he lets his nostrils flare, and then you see a large release of breath in the movement of Qian’s chest. This is really really getting to Qian. That nostril flare was not because he was breathing in. Because he’d already taken a breath. It was not because he was breathing out, because we see that happen a few seconds after the nostril flare, without his nose moving again. When Qian flares his nostrils, he is holding his breath, for a rather noticeable amount of time too. 
I love Chris because he embodies Qian so well, I can almost feel the way Qian is feeling internally in all the subtle little ways Chris plays with how Qian holds and releases tension and attention. 
“Who’s been good to me?”
Qian blinks twice, letting the question hit him, and only then does he finally release his breath. 
“Who put me before themselves?” 
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San Pang looks at Qian after he finishes asking these hypothetical questions. But Qian is still looking ahead towards the TV, trying to come across as disengaged in the conversation as possible. And San Pang notices that, and that is why he continues to talk. Because Qian is hearing him, he’s listening and processing, but he isn’t engaged. He hasn’t put his body in to the conversation yet, he hasn’t responded to anything that San Pang has said to him. So San Pang keeps pushing. 
“A lot of things are only between you and Yuan. Unless you really have something against being with a guy, Yuan’s the only one who will be by your side, no matter what. Are you really not going to confront it?”
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And I love that we pull away from that question to Qian looking like he is lying in a therapist’s chair. And Qian holds that position he has been maintaining throughout the conversation for a few seconds longer. The number of times he blinks the only indication that what San Pang has said is getting through and that Qian is mulling it all over. 
And only then, after San Pang has said all these things about Qian and Yuan’s relationship, in a way that is not judgemental or against the idea of these brothers becoming romantically involved. Only after San Pang has said that Yuan would be by Qian’s side no matter what does Qian set his jaw and push himself up in to a sitting position to continue the conversation. 
San Pang does not know what happened at Le’s gang beyond them being beaten up. So while it is highly likely that he is aware saying that Yuan would follow Qian anywhere is opening a can of worms, he does not understand how much ammunition he has just given Qian to talk about the danger that loving him too deeply has put Yuan in.
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We do not give enough credit to film actors for maintaining continuity across scenes, because this man sits up and the first thing Chris has Qian do is massage the back of his head, where the pain of his blood clot sits. I could probably sit here all day trying to talk about all the little facial expressions he does as Qian sits up and starts preparing himself to be vulnerable with San Pang. But we can leave it as merely that. Qian is getting ready to talk to San Pang about some deeply personal stuff.
Personal stuff that Qian usually does not typically get in to. Like, San Pang says he knows what Qian went through, but I do not think he does. I do not think Qian has told him about the sexual assault, or San Pang would not have been trying to throw women at Qian. 
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gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
“San Pang.” He pauses, and you can see the way he is still noodling, thinking about whether or not he wants to talk to San Pang about all this. And notably, he does not meet San Pang’s eye when he begins “Do you know…” Qian looks to the side, he frowns a little bit, he taps the palm of his hand against the top of the couch arm. It feels so childish and small of him in a way that really struck me. Qian is nervous, he is redirecting that energy in to his motions. In to the tapping, in to looking away, in to not having to reveal deep personal truths sitting that close to another soul. “Do you know what my biggest wish in life is? My biggest wish in life is for them to be happy,” 
Ohhhhhh how that breaks my heart. Qian has suffered so much, he has done so much, he has survived so much. If you were to ask me, I would bet that Qian has never been happy. He was forced at a very young age to take over the role of caregiver. He is both a brother and a father to Yuan and to Lili. And it is a testament to Qian’s love for his family, and the pain he is willing to put himself through that Lili is so bright and vibrant and naive about some of the workings of the world. I believe that Lili is happy. I believe that Qian has succeeded in at least that much. But that is not something he has had a chance to do. “Even if the world comes down, I’ll hold it up.” I have not forgotten that line from last episode. Qian would hold the world together if it meant ensuring his sister’s happiness. 
I do not know what it is, but there is something in the way Chris moves his mouth after he says “My biggest wish in life is for them to be happy,” that just absolutely destroys me, because he makes himself look like this is such a huge confession. 
“Mine is the same.” 
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gif from @wanderlust-in-my-soul
“I just want them to grow up healthy and happy, because I’m their big brother.” Qian’s words become so breathy and he’s jabbing his finger straight in to the arm of the couch to drive home his point. These are the words that matter, this is the wish that matters. Qian’s feelings, Qian’s happiness have nothing to do with it. If he’s empty so be it, as long as his siblings are happy and healthy he will wound himself a thousand times over. His fucking face here, once again is just…When Qian takes in a breath, it is shaky. You can tell by the movement of his jaw, which looks like it is moving from side to side a little bit. As he approaches the end of his sentence, it feels like he is trying not to cry. 
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gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
Yuan’s life might be summed up in two words: Wei Qian 
But Wei Qian’s life is summed up in five: 
Because I’m their big brother. 
“We grew up together. You think I don’t know how hard life’s been on you? But you know that Yuan’s feelings for you are different.” 
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Qian looks away incredulously, and there is something else there too, I think. Something in the way that Qian’s eyebrows furrow, the way his mouth hangs open, the way he breathes out. I don’t know that he can really believe that this conversation is happening right now. That San Pang would let these words reach the light of day, that he would acknowledge them so openly, so matter-of-factly. 
“We’ve tried everything. We even sent him abroad for years. You were miserable every day. You love him and he loves you.”
We get more of Qian’s thinking face here as San Pang says these words, his mouth agape, his breath quickening, his eyes moving back and forth as he sorts through his own thoughts. 
But I need to acknowledge San Pang. He has such an intriguing connection to Qian and his family. San Pang has power of Qian, because his parents are Qian’s landlords. He and Qian have been best friends for a very long time, and even though I think it is true that San Pang likely knows the most about Qian’s life history, he does not know it all. He is still, in many facets of his life, acting like a kicked dog and backing down every time he tries to push back against Qian now that Qian knows that he and Lili are together. But when push comes to shove. When Qian’s happiness is impeded, when Qian’s health is at risk, he will tell Qian what Qian needs to hear. 
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Whether or not Qian is truly having a hard time parsing through his feelings for Yuan doesn’t matter to me as much as Qian getting permission from multiple people to actually pursue the relationship. In acknowledging all of this, San Pang, the man who at one point told Yuan he could like anyone but Qian, the man that sent Yuan away for four years, is telling Qian that it is okay for Qian and Yuan to be together. He is the external judge that is finally accepting this taboo relationship, because he knows that if he does not show Qian that it is okay for him and Yuan to change from brothers to lovers, that neither Qian or Yuan will have any chance in hell of long term happiness. 
“Even if you’re not together, he’ll be sad to see you sad.” 
Off come Qian’s glasses. Shit is getting serious now. Qian rests his head on his hand, he looks away from San Pang. He really sits with it, you can see the emotions rising up in him, in the way he breathes, in the way his nostrils move, in the way his lips tremble for a second before he speaks. 
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gif by @ueasking
“I’m scared, you know?” he turns to look at San Pang, and he sucks in a huge breath through his nose. It’s the first time we’ve seen him breathe so obviously that way throughout the entire scene. GOD, QIAN KILLS ME. 
“You haven’t even tried. What are you scared of?” 
And this is the fascinating thing for me, right? Outside of Yuan, San Pang is Qian’s best friend, but they do not have conversations like this that often. San Pang has tried time and again to start the more serious conversations, to act as an emotional support for Qian, but Qian brushes those conversations off as much as he can. San Pang knew the medical issues, he knows the history, he knows about the pieces of Qian’s life that Qian can’t hide. But he does not know everything, Qian does not usually let himself be this vulnerable with San Pang, hell he hasn’t even told San Pang everything that happened with Le’s gang. He’s about to, but that is only because he is trying to make a point. 
I think he is only having this conversation with San Pang, only admitting he is scared, and confused about his feelings for Yuan because he has literally no one else to talk to about it, and he’s starting to break down to the point that he can’t hold it all in by himself. And San Pang keeps pushing. 
“You know he went to find Le by himself that day?”
“I know.” 
“He was surrounded and beaten by six people, and in the end…”
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gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
He sucks in a breath. It takes him a moment to find the strength to form the words, so he forms a gun shape with his hand, which he points quickly a few times to fill the silence and the stillness in the room as he finds the shape of the admission on his tongue. He accentuates the severity of the memory with one final large motion. 
“...they pointed a gun at…” 
Ah, and there it is. The real reason behind Qian’s comment about wanting Lili and Yuan to be happy and healthy because he’s their big brother. Qian will not act on his feelings for Yuan, especially not right now because he is feeling guilty. Not just for sending Yuan away, not just because of the letter, but because Yuan’s unwavering loyalty, protectiveness, and love for Qian got Yuan hurt. Nearly got Yuan killed. Again. 
Qian’s whole world, his entire drive was shattered the day Yuan confessed, when Yuan told Qian that he was suffering. Yuan’s love for Qian was hurting him. But Qian just wants Yuan to be happy and healthy. The chance at having that world again was nearly destroyed with the realization that Yuan almost died abroad. His world was made complete again when Yuan returned home. And it was very nearly destroyed once more when Yuan walked in to that gang in hopes of protecting Qian. 
There is pain in witnessing the kind of love someone would die for. 
Qian can put himself in danger for the sake of his siblings, because from my perspective, Qian never thought his life had much worth. His formative years were filled with horrific abuse, assault under the guise of love, pain, suffering, doing terrible things just to survive. But this is all because he cannot see the forest through the trees, of the life that he has built, of the home that he has built, of the safety that he has built for his siblings. 
Yuan is not allowed to believe his life is less important than Qian’s because no one has ever thought that Qian’s life was more important than theirs. 
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“Fuck, you- you’re telling me that now? Then, you…Right now, you…So, you’ve lost…”
Another quick shout out to San Pang, and moreso to the writing for San Pang that they don’t always let him have these brilliant speeches. He was able to navigate the beginning of this conversation because he knew mostly what he was walking in to, but with the reveal of Yuan and Qian’s near death experience, he is fumbling. 
The camera cuts back to Qian. I’d say Qian is listening to San Pang, but not fully present. Chris is doing so many things with his face in that moment. His nostrils are flaring, his lips are tightening like he’s trying to hold something back, he’s rocking his jaw from side to side. 
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gif by @ueasking
“So, this isn’t a decision I can make so lightly.” He is almost crying now, he won’t cry, I think the only time we’ve seen him cry is when he was staring the prospect of Yuan’s death directly in the face during Russian Roulette and when he was hugging Yuan afterwards. But you can see the growing frustration and the threat of the tears very clearly on his face. Qian emphasizes the statement by once again jabbing his finger into the couch. 
“I have to consider the future.”  
“Do you want him to have a future without you?”
Let me tell y’all the way I collapsed under the weight of that question…it is no wonder Qian, notoriously quiet Qian, immediately shuts his mouth. I appreciate how much San Pang is willing to be the sacrificial lamb, because that is exactly the question that Qian needed to hear. That is exactly the reality that Qian, Yuan, Lili all face if Qian does not get his blood clot treated. A future without Qian in it. 
Qian needs to know exactly what he is doing to the people he loves by continuing to delay this medical treatment, but San Pang had to know that in asking it, it would only make Qian retreat back in to himself. Which is what Qian usually does. It was a miracle in it’s own right that San Pang was able to get Qian to voice this many of his concerns, to tell him the entire truth, to talk to him about the fear. 
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gif by @ueasking
Qian closes his eyes, he lets the blow of the question absorb in to him, and he nods his head. Which, in my opinion, is a brilliant choice because the way he nods does not read to me as a confession that yes, Qian does want Yuan to have a future without him in it, and more so is an admission of defeat from Qian. But because we don’t get verbal confirmation either way, we do not, San Pang does not, Yuan does not get any confirmation one way or the other about what Qian is thinking. 
Qian just nods, lets the silence hang one moment longer, and kicks San Pang out. 
“Go home.” He says. But there is a more promising follow up “Let me think about it.” 
Which feels like the only thing Qian has really been doing for the last four years, but we’ve already established, that boy is about as moveable as a brick wall, and he and Yuan both serve to lose a lot if this goes wrong. 
And there you go @lurkingshan! 4103 words on the mouth twitch, nervous body language, and tears in this scene :D
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Dancing On My Own (Gambit X Reader, Part One)
Alrighty folks, this was meant to be a quick fluffy one shot that keeps getting longer and more angsty and has been sitting in my drafts for entirely too long now. Still very much a WIP that will be continued this week or next, PG13 for the time being with potential to take a turn for spicy down the line :)
A/N: Some quick background, the reader (Y/N in fic, described with she/her pronouns) is based off of an OC I tend to pull out pretty frequently. Half human, half angel, displaced from their home universe and dropped into this one (in which Lucifer, the tv show, is also cannon because why not maybe do a crossover down the line?). Gambit x Reader is the main ship we're sailing towards, but there's definitely some Logan x Reader if you squint. OH and last last thing, there's a party and I'm shamelessly linking the dress I had in mind for the reader here.
gif credit :) : @counterspelling
Dropping below a read more, don't be shy, come say hi when you're done reading! :)
“‘Stay for the summer!’ they said, ‘quiet and relaxing’ they said!” You throw the words you were told back at Jubilee who looks back at you completely unfazed as you continue untangling string lights to hang in the garden. 
“Honestly Y/N if you had stopped for two seconds to think about who was telling you that, you probably would’ve gone back to LA.” 
She was completely right, of course. You showed up to Xavier’s school not a mutant, not fully human either, and just looking for a place on the east coast to stay. Your uncle Lucifer made a few calls, found a friend willing to host a universe-displaced nephilim, and the rest was history. You might not be a mutant, but you were a partial human with powers you couldn’t always understand, and even other angels in this universe weren’t always able to help. Charles met and understood you quicker than anyone you’ve ever encountered in this universe or the next, so when you were asked to extend your stay and take on some guardian duties over the summer you were happy enough to agree. 
“Jean is the one who told you it would be relaxing, and Jean’s idea of relaxing is staying at a constant level 8 of activity.” 
“How is that not like the school year?” You rolled your eyes, dropping the lights. 
“Well during the school year she bounces between a 9 and 10, reserving 7s and 8s for the weekend. I can make you a diagram or something if you need it.” 
“I’m going to need a lot more than that by the time we’re done here.” 
“Maybe Gambit can help you with that?” Remy had sauntered over from the basketball court, at least that’s what you assumed given his current state of undress. 
“Unless you’re here to help decorate, I don’t think so handsome. If Jean catches us behind schedule the phoenix might make a reappearance…” You looked around and took a deep breath, realizing that other than the lights, everything looked pretty set. There was a reasonable sized clearing in the garden and Jean had hired a company to install a temporary dance floor. Chairs and tables were scattered around picnic style, and Jubilee had done an amazing job of setting up the bar despite being the only one unable to drink, legally.
“I think it’s actually just the lights,” Jubilee nodded to the messy pile at your feet, “And I think Gambit would be more help with that than me anyway, so?” 
“Go ahead,” you nodded smiling and she ran over to hug you, “And if you go to the mall, bring me back a pretzel!!!” You yelled after her knowing it was useless, she’d bring you a pretzel whether she heard you or not. 
“Avoiding me, chere?” Gambit eyed you with his usual flirtatious undertone that you couldn’t make heads or tails of. 
“In fact, I am. Grab that end?” You handed him the lights as he waited for an explanation, “Okay, I’m going to sit in the tree, I just need you to feed me the lights as we move. Ready?” You didn’t give him a chance to answer, disappearing and reappearing in the branch just above his head. 
Gambit stared back troubled and suspicious, so you nodded and gave him the sarcastic, albeit not entirely untrue, answer he was waiting for, “Oh Remy my attraction to you is just so strong and all consuming that I had to avoid you in order to get anything done at all. Every second I can’t throw myself at you is torture. Et cetera, et cetera, please start passing me the lights so I can go inside and shower.” 
He laughed and finally did as you said, “You know if you wanted ol’Gambit all you had to do was ask.” 
The two of you worked in a comfortable silence passing the lights through the trees. Just as you finished wrapping the last string, your footing slipped and you let out a quick yelp before bracing yourself for a fall that never came. 
“I never would have guessed angels could be so clumsy.” 
“If we weren’t you’d be short of a pickup line. Tell me honestly, how many times have you asked a lady if she fell from heaven?” Remy laughed and began walking away with you still in his arms. 
“Not as many as you think, chere. Are we about done out here?” 
You looked around and nodded, “Finally, yes. It was a good catch by the way, but I think I can walk on my own.” 
Placing you back on the ground, the two of you walked towards the mansion in another comfortable silence. Remy was probably tied with Jubilee as your closest friend in the school. You could remember the first day you arrived, how he couldn’t stop watching you. It wasn’t until later that same night, you were out in the garden and could still sense him watching you, that you decided to do something about it. You walked right up to him, introduced yourself, and asked him to kindly explain why he was staring at you like he’s seeing a ghost. 
It turned out the boy who grew up being told he was a demon had a lot of mixed feelings discovering angels and demons were not only real, but one of them was living under his roof. Remy felt a bit silly admitting it to you, but he owed you an honest answer when you confronted him so directly. And when he told you what people had said about him, what he suspected his own parents must have thought of him, your heart broke. You told him stories of all the demons and monsters you’ve encountered, and reassured him that he didn’t come close to fitting the bill.
“What’s on your mind, Remy?” There was quiet and then there was Quiet. You were still pretty new, but you knew well enough when something was bothering him.   
“Are you heading back?” You stopped short, and he stopped to face you. 
“Back where, Rem?” 
“Anywhere that’s not here.” He was facing you but he wouldn’t quite look at you, as if he didn’t actually want to hear the answer.
You took a deep breath, “The honest answer is that I don’t know. I don’t really feel like LA is where I belong, but I’m not a mutant or a gifted youngster either. I mean, I’m not even from this u-” 
“Okay, okay.” Gambit interrupted you with a hug, correctly sensing an impending panic attack from you, “Gambit just worried he won’t get to see you s’all.” 
You took a deep breath, sighing into the hug, “Well that’s really stupid.”  He pulled back to look at you, full of confusion. “It’s really stupid because if I were going anywhere you’d be the first person I tell, and because it takes me about 5 seconds flat to get anywhere. I’d be back before you even knew I was gone.”
You smiled wistfully and he returned it, “I’d know.” 
The two of you continued heading in and you finally felt brave enough to ask the question you’ve really been wanting to ask. 
“Well, I have to head up and start getting ready for tonight. What about you, getting ready for your date?” Of course, you weren’t sure he actually had one, but that was as direct as you could bring yourself to be. 
“Suppose I should be doing the same. Save Gambit a dance?” He kissed your hand and walked away, leaving you flustered and confused. You immediately pulled out your phone.
Y/N: okay so i said ‘gotta go get ready! what about you, getting ready for your date?’ and he said ‘suppose i should do the same’ what do we do with that??
JB: does he think you have a date?? 
Y/N: SHOULD i have a date??? 
JB: yeah, one of you should have asked the other out by now 
You dropped your phone on your bed, having finally made it to your room after a flurry of texts. Complicated feelings for your maybe best friend aside, it was still important to you to be slightly better than presentable tonight. 
Tonight was the first time all summer the adults of the mansion could relax and have a good time, and some non-residential mutants would also be joining the mix. You had never really been to anything so strictly social with the gang, and you didn’t take your invitation lightly. 
It wasn’t exactly formal, but Jubilee was able to confirm your suspicion that it wasn’t exactly casual either. You showered, taking more time than usual to exfoliate and moisturize, trying to pamper yourself into relaxing and getting excited for the night ahead, trying to ignore Remy’s words from earlier bouncing around your head. 
Two simple words that have had you in a tailspin since he said them so casually. ‘I’d know.’
The trouble maker in you wanted to test him on it, and you did a quick assessment of yourself to see if you could. Fresh out of the shower but mostly dressed, you were presentable. Should you take a quick trip overseas, hop over to France for some wine for tonight and back in a blink? You closed your eyes and heard a knock on your door just as you were about to take off. 
You opened your door more suspicious than you’d care to admit, suddenly paranoid that Gambit sniffed you out, but you were met with Jubilee instead, weighed down with garment and shopping bags from the mall. 
“You never answered me! I have your pretzel and you promised we’d do makeup together so-“ it was all the preamble she gave before forcing the pretzel on you and making herself at home in your room. 
“I was showering! And I really thought you were going to be gone longer?” 
“I just had to pick up some stuff I ordered for tonight, plus giving you and Gambit some time to flirt didn’t seem like a bad thing.” 
You rolled your eyes, “We have banter, definitely, but I’m not sure I’d call it flirting. He flirts with everyone.” 
“So you realize that what he does with you is different?” She turns it on you but you’ve heard it before. 
“Yes, different as in he’s not interested!” 
Jubilee made a sound of frustration before giving up and asking for help with contour. You dropped the subject and fell back into your usual routine, an easy friendship that reminded you more of sisters than friends. You showed up at the mansion looking for a place to stay while you visited old haunts, and you made a friend in Jubilee who was willing to venture into those places with you, even if it meant confronting ghosts.
“Lucky for you I think I found the perfect way to test his level of interest. You didn’t pick out what you’re wearing yet, did you?” 
“Well yeah, I was just going to wear-” You started motioning to the dress you picked for tonight, but Jubilee was moving and cutting you off before you even finished.
“Okay so scrap that, I grabbed something for you at the mall,” she reached for one of the garment bags she had laid across your bed, “and if this doesn’t get a reaction out of him, I’m at a loss. What do you think?”
She unzipped the bag and your eyebrows flew up so fast you wondered if they were still there. It was hot pink, sequined, and most noticeably, short and backless. You reached out to touch it and couldn’t deny how beautiful it was. Sure, the pink was a lot and it showed more skin than you were strictly comfortable with, but you couldn’t deny that the striped details of the sequins were gorgeous, or that the dress would hug and accentuate your curves…dangerously. 
“Now tell me what’s really going on because there’s no way you were able to afford this dress.” 
Jubilee snorted, “You got me, it comes with a letter.” She handed you a small envelope you promptly opened and started reading. 
‘Your young friend told me you planned to attend a party wearing some frumpy thing off a rack and that’s simply unacceptable for my niece, I have a reputation to uphold, Y/N ;) Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do! Sincerely, your Fairy DevilFather (p.s. TRY to have fun?)’
“Lucifer intervened to send me a dress?? How did you two even contact each other?” 
“I answered your phone once when he called while you were showering. We really hit it off, he actually sent me one too!” She excitedly pulled out another bag and showed you an equally gorgeous, albeit much more modest dress. Part of you wanted to argue, but another part of you realized how exciting this was for your friend and you weren’t about to let her down when she was waiting for you to join her excitement. 
“I think we might be best dressed tonight?” You smirked and she whooped, celebrating her victory. 
“Oh I’m ready, maybe everyone will finally accept the fact that I’m 20 and stop treating me like I’m still 15.” 
You knew it was a sore point for her, but you still smiled. The way all of the x-men treated Jubilee as their adopted child was something that endlessly warmed your heart, even if it frustrated your friend. The two of you took your time helping each other get your hair and makeup perfect before donning your dresses and leaving your bedroom, having already started to hear the arrival of a few guests and the slight murmur of conversation. 
You stopped just short of the stairs, turning to face Jubilee, “Don’t they say ‘fashionably late’ is a good thing?” Your anxiety was starting to get the best of you, wearing such a risque dress to attend a party with lots of new faces. 
“I think we’ve already reached fashionably late, babe, if we wait any longer they’ll think something is wrong.” You took a deep breath and started to make your way down the stairs. The mansion was empty, signalling that everyone else had already made their way out to the garden. 
The sun was just beginning to set when the two of you arrived to find the party already in full swing. Jean and Scott were dancing, Logan and Hank sharing a drink by the bar, and around 20 faces you had never seen interspersed with the rest of the team. You heard a low wolf whistle behind you and felt a hand on your lower back. 
“Breaking hearts tonight, chere?” Remy was on you before you could even turn to look at the sound. 
“If I’m lucky.” You shrugged. 
“Think I have enough of that for the both of us.” He winked and you tried and failed to suppress a snort that only made him grin wider. 
You turned to say something to Jubilee and your eyes narrowed when you realized the little traitor had run over to greet her friends, leaving you and Gambit alone. She looked your way and winked as you openly glared at her. 
“Well it looks like I’ve been ditched so I’ll need to borrow some of it.” You grimaced in the direction of the crowd, not needing to elaborate.  
“All yours, chere.” He offered you his arm and you accepted, making your way into the party and jumping right into a flurry of introductions, hugs and handshakes that Remy led you through, guiding you away when it was time to move on. 
It seemed innocent enough but you couldn’t stop focusing on the fact that Remy’s hands never left you. Whether it was an arm wrapped protectively around your waist or his hand on your exposed lower back, lazily tracing shapes you couldn’t make out, it was becoming increasingly distracting. He introduced you to Kurt and you only caught 30% of the conversation, too distracted by Remy’s hand tracing the curve of the dip at the back of your dress. You were relieved when Remy excused the two of you to go grab a drink.
“Admit it, not as bad as you thought.” Gambit smirked at you, leading you to a table where Logan and Jubilee were catching up. 
You rolled your eyes, “I never thought it would be bad, I just,” You took a deep breath, “I don’t know, I guess I was worried I wouldn’t fit in here, or that everyone would be wondering why I’m even here but too polite to say anything.” 
Logan and Jubilee both looked in your direction, hearing the tail end of your conversation that you didn’t bother hiding from them. Logan very openly looked you up and down before chuckling and taking a sip of what you suspected to be whiskey. 
“No one’s kicking you out of here looking like that, that’s for sure.” It was maybe the first time the wolverine had ever given you a compliment and you blushed. 
“You clean up rather nicely yourself, Logan.” 
“Then why are you spending all night with the cajun instead of talking to me?” You were surprised but did your best to cover it up, meanwhile Jubilee was fighting off a laugh herself by taking a sip of her drink.
“Because the cajun knows how a lady should be treated.” Gambit grumbled, leveling Logan with a look before departing briefly to get the both of you drinks.  
“Does he?” Logan asked you while you sat to join them, shooting him a quizzical look before he continued, “Know how to treat a lady?” 
“How much have you had, Logan?” You asked, eyeing his drink. 
“Not that much, darlin’. Answer the question.” If there was one thing you loved about Logan it was his lack of bullshit, and judging by the look on Jubilee’s face as she waited for your answer, right now it was probably her favorite thing about him too, 
“He’s been a perfect gentleman, but we’re just friends.” You tried to say it in a way that wouldn’t reveal how much that bothered you, but both of them knew better. Gambit returned a second later with your drinks and you only got two sips in before Logan insisted on a round of shots. 
One round turned into two, turned into three, turned into…you lost count. Jubilee was swaying happily in her seat, having convinced the two men to let her join in with half shots somewhere around round three. Everyone’s judgement was impaired by that point, but she made a great argument about drinking for the first at home where she’s safe or something else you couldn’t remember anymore in your happily inebriated state.
A song came on and you gasped, turning towards the dancefloor and excitedly announcing your love for the song. What it was called? You couldn’t remember if your life depended on it, but you needed to dance. You locked eyes with Remy who smiled but shifted his eyes away awkwardly, causing you to quickly deflate. 
“Have you even had a dance yet tonight, Y/N?” Logan asked you suspiciously. 
“Not yet.” You pouted, considering heading out on your own, dance partner be damned. 
“Knows how to treat a lady my ass.” Logan grumbled in Gambit’s direction, shooting a glare at him before getting up and begrudgingly but kindly offering you his hand. 
“Oh. my. GOD.” Jubilee squealed, far too gone to contain her excitement at the drama, as she would say.  
You beamed at Logan, accepting his hand and making a run for the dance floor, pulling him along behind you. 
“That crazy cajun might try to take my head off later for this.” Logan grumbled, settling his arms at your waist while you threw yours around his neck, getting closer than was strictly necessary so the two of you could continue your talk while dancing. Your eyes shifted over to where you just left your friends and you felt a stabbing pain in your chest when you looked for Remy just to see he had also made his way over to the dance floor, with Rogue. 
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Logan.” Your eyes were starting to tear up and you looked up trying to stop it as Logan became worried, turning to figure out what made you so upset. His eyes landed on Gambit and he growled, holding you a little closer as he actively tried to calm down. 
“I’ll kill him.” 
“You won’t.” You laughed, “He’s allowed to be with whoever he wants.”
“Yeah, but he’s not allowed to follow you around all night like a lovesick puppy just to ditch you when he catches another scent.” 
You smiled sadly, “He was being a good friend earlier, that’s it.” 
Logan pulled you closer and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “I watched his hands stray all over you, Y/N,” He touched your bare back to emphasize his point, “He’s not a friend, he’s a coward.” You couldn’t take it anymore and hugged Logan, hiding your face in his chest to let a few tears escape, hoping you would feel a bit better if you could get some of your distress out. 
“Might have to kill em for making you cry.” Logan grumbled and you laughed, smiling up at him despite yourself. 
“Believe it or not you’re helping enough like this.” The two of you continued dancing and Logan’s discomfort wasn’t wasted on you, but he’d be damned if he let the two of you leave that dance floor before Gambit and Rogue. He was making a point. 
The music began to slow down and Rogue and Gambit finally went their separate ways. You watched as Remy found Jubilee again and made their way back over to the table, you turned to Logan.
“Think we should head back?” He looked behind you and shook his head.
“We finally get a song that’s more my speed and you want to leave?” He shook his head no and pulled you closer, making you laugh and rest your head on his chest as the two of you swayed lazily. 
“Thank you, Logan. It’s not how I expected the night to go but I wouldn’t have gotten through it without you.” 
“Dancing with you looking like that isn’t exactly a punishment.” He snarked and you chuckled.
“Mind if I cut in?” You looked up to meet red eyes, Remy looking between you and Logan harshly before addressing you again more quietly, “Didn’t Gambit ask you to save him a dance?” 
You hesitated and Logan took that as his cue, “Bad timing cajun, Y/N just said she was getting dizzy, we’re heading back to the table.” Logan put his arm around you and lead you out of there, leaving Gambit to grumble and trail the two of you back. 
Jean had joined Jubilee to rest and eyed the three of you quizzically as you made your return.
“Y/N!! I found out that shots of vodka with cranberry juice is amazing, look!” She held out a shot for you and you grabbed it and threw it back before Logan and Remy could even finish their protests.
“Chere! Didn’t you say you were dizzy?” Gambit took the shot glass out of your hand, leading you to a chair. 
“From the dancing, Rem! I definitely haven’t had enough to drink yet.” 
Jubilee whooped and passed you another shot, clinking it to her own before you both threw them back. Jean looked at you even more confused and you tapped your temple with a wink, an agreed upon gesture inviting her to read your mind. 
“Rough night but I promise everything is okay, just need to drown my sorrows a little with you guys. Logan’s been doing his best.” 
You heard Jean’s response in your head, “Fair enough. I’ve been cutting Jubilee’s shots with a lot of cranberry juice. Seriously, a LOT.” 
You struggled to mask your laugh, “As I was saying, definitely not enough to drink, I’m gonna go-“ You stood and made your way to the bar on your own before anyone else could say anything, but you could feel a few sets of eyes watching you leave. 
Someone had been manning the bar, but as the night wore on and the guests dwindled, those of you remaining were left to fend for yourself. You assessed your options and reached for the gin, giving that a generous pour before adding sprite, a splash of cranberry juice, and a lime wedge before you can talk yourself out of it. 
“That looks amazing, can you make me one too?” Jubilee had appeared at your side and you smiled before making her a much more restrained version of yours. “Now I need you to tell me eeeeevery detail of you and Wolvie dancing I mean I neeeever-“ 
“To be clear,” you interrupted, sipping at your drink, “It was a pity save when it became painfully obvious Remy wasn’t going to ask.” 
“After spending literally all night following you around and basically growling at anyone that tried to get near you, what’s up with that??” She made a good point but you weren’t sure what she meant by that first part. 
“Pause, rewind, what are you talking about ‘basically growling’?” 
“You seriously didn’t realize how handsy he got with you when Kurt started getting friendly?” 
You realized you were drunk when you couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth, “I was so distracted by him being handsy I didn’t even hear whatever Kurt was saying to make the connection.” 
Jubilee nearly spat her drink in your face and she started smacking you excitedly, “Can you please please go tell him that??” 
“But then he didn’t ask me to dance!! He pointedly looked away!!” 
“So Logan? What happened there?” You were starting to suspect your friend wasn’t nearly as inebriated as you thought, her tone sounding surprisingly sharp shifting gears. 
“I really don’t think there’s anything more than his mother-hen instincts going on there.” 
Her eyes rolled and she shrugged, “I’d agree if it was just one dance, but-“ 
“Again, pretty sure that was to save me from being zeroed in on Gambit’s dance with Rogue..” 
She didn’t have a response for that one and she simply clinked your drink before you both took generous sips, “Don’t tell Jean.” You whispered as you topped both of your glasses off before heading back to the group.
Jean had left to track down Scott who was mingling in the small groups that remained, some still dancing but most everyone else was doing the same as your small group. Jubilee bounced into the seat next to Logan and you drifted a beat too long before sitting next to Gambit. The silence that stretched between the two of you was no longer as comfortable as it was earlier, so you broke and piped up first. 
“I almost tested you earlier, you know.” 
“Almost?” Remy squinted at you, “Been testing me all night, chere.” 
You narrowed your eyes back but decided not to engage, continuing your thought instead, “When you said you’d know if I left?” His playful glare dropped and he waited on your next words, “Just a quick trip before the party but still, decided against it.” 
Remy chewed on what you were saying and not saying, wondering how the night had gotten so far away from him. Everything started out better than he expected, getting to show you around the party, not letting you too far out of sight in that dress, and then the hesitation. His own doubt sneaking in, reminding him that Y/N is quite literally an angel, he knew her place in the world, but his? He looked over at you waiting for a response and decided that didn’t matter right now.
“Still have sea legs or are you about ready for that dance, chere?” He didn’t leave you much room to answer, already standing with his arm extended. 
“You know I literally just sat back down, right?” He rolled his eyes at you, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet alongside him. Your night was clearly nowhere near over and you gave in, letting Remy lead you back onto the dance floor and into his arms. 
225 notes · View notes
malertop · 6 months
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Ethan Landry x Male Reader
Wet & Naked
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Gif is not mine!
Help I got this idea at 3 am..literally,so idk if it's my idea or i have seen a fanfiction of that but well it might be mine and I just my brain and it might be not and I don't remember anything!
Y/N and Ethan we're known as the most cute and dorkiest couple by the cour five (With Y/N it's gonna be five) and by the Kirchis Family.Ethan is a shy,dorky,horror movie fan and the boyfriend who is a total freak who is sometimes way too shy or awkward..and the one who has abs and is strong,and Y/N is the shy,cute,selfless little guy who doesn't believe in himself,and also the shorter boyfriend..and the one who doesn't have abs or anything (but if you read this and have abs then you just do).Chad,Ethan and Y/N are in the same dorm and that couldn't make Ethan happier.
But the little problem in their relationship is that Ethan always barges/enters Y/N's room at any time just to talk to him about something,no metter if he's doing his homework,is playing,is sleeping,is trying to sleep,eat and more more.
As Y/N was changing after he got out of the shower he started to prepare his clothes and as he finally decided what he will wear he just got his pj since it's literally 9 PM and it's dark.He put his pj in his bed and was about to change when he heard his door opening
"Y/N you won't believe wha-" Ethan entered and said that while going inside his boyfriend room "Ethan!" Y/N yelled as then Ethan looked at the boy who had nothing but a towel that he tried to use to cover himself "Oh My God,i-i am so sorry i promise i won't look,i will leave right now!" Ethan said as he closed his eyes and headed to the door but as he did he tripped and accidentally grabbed Y/N's towel without his knowledge."Ow that hurt" Ethan said as he then opened his eyes just to see Y/N naked Infront of him,Y/N's cock was big and long without it being hard as water dropped from it,he was probably already 7 or 8 whole inches without even being hard and his upper body was wet from the water as his whole naked body parts were shining because of the lamp's in his room."God i-i am sorry!" Y/N said as he fastly run out of his dorm to run in the bathroom passing Ethan who was on the floor.
-After 10 minutes Y/N was still in the bathroom hiding as Ethan and Chad are together watching TV-
"What was that kind of yelling?" Chad asked Ethan who stopped back from his shock "Huh?What yelling?" Ethan said confused "You know..the one that happened over 10 minutes ago..You and Y/N kind of yell and then I saw him go into the bathroom..I mean only him closing the door but yeah" Ethan then started blushing like a tomato or a strawberry,he just saw Y/N naked,his boyfriend who is Y/N was naked and he saw him naked.Ethan was flustered as his face got hotter "dude are you...blushing?" Chad said looking at Ethan who then instantly just looked at him and said "W-What?" "Dude you are blushing as a tomato!" Chad said as Ethan whispered yell "shut up!" defensively,Chad chuckled as he made fun of the dork "And why is dork blushing?" Chad teased Ethan "I am not a dork!" Ethan replied again defensively but not as the last time,Ethan looked at Chad who was waiting for the answer "I..I um..I saw Y/N naked,BUT IT WAS AN ACCIDENT I PROMISE!" Chad's smile even got bigger as he was ready to literally bully him "and what,I mean you guys have been dating for 4 months already,not a big of a deal" Chad said as he tried not to make fun of the dork who was blushing like a tomato "or..you just started at his dick and was amazed" Chad then couldn't take it anymore and just started laughing as Ethan blushed even more "dude his dick wasn't even hard and was already 7 or 8 inches." Chad then stopped laughing right away and looked at his roommate "Wait What" Chad asked again from shock "Yeah um..I slipped and I accidentally grabbed his towel and i saw his dick,and i don't know if he noticed but umm...I think that's why he is hiding" Ethan said as he started to get hotter and hotter once again "Wait..so you're telling me that you saw the shyest and shortest guy from all of us..naked..and his di-" "yes Chad I am saying that" but as Ethan said that they both heard the TV and looked over there just to see Y/N in his pj's watching TV on the couch."Okay well you need to stop blushing,or oh wait,his dick and body is on your mind!" Chad started to laugh quietly "Shut up dude..not funny" "It sure is to me" Ethan then looked at Y/N "i wish i could have seen more..or...do something more" he thought in his mind
328 notes · View notes
pt2change · 3 months
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human anatomy — kim seokjin
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[gif source]
paring: model!seokjin x artist!y/n
genre: university au, does it count if only one is in uni, fluff, rich boy seokjin is here if you squint, typical “i bumped into you and spilled my coffee” first meeting, did i mention jin is actually a naked model
word count: 1,790
↣ bts masterlist
a/n: happy jinhomecoming!!! here’s my first jin drabble to celebrate <3
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
you had a coffee in one hand and your sketchpad in the other as you tried to navigate your way through campus and the multiple other students.
you’re usually on time to your classes, but you accidentally overslept last night. even though you’re late, you’re also not rushing because your professor will just call you out in front of everyone!
(you really hope she won’t today)
(you can’t blame her, not really, especially when this is not the first time you show up late to class)
you reach the art building 10 minutes after the initial start of your class time and of course, it’s no surprise that your student id struggles to get read by the machine that unlocks the door.
soon enough, you’re able enter the building, speed walking your way towards the classroom.
your phone pings, reading a message jimin: where are you?, you move your fingers quickly across the screen explaining the events of this morning.
when you turn a corner suddenly, you collide with someone, and your coffee falls from your hands. it feels like it all happens in slow motion just like in the movies; the lid pops off and the coffee just goes absolutely everywhere .
“shit,” you mutter softly before speaking up, “i am so so sorry!”
you weren’t even sure what to do. it would probably be better if the ground just opened up and swallowed you whole.
you turn up to look at the person you collided with. this guy was gorgeous. like really gorgeous. his skin was golden and smooth looking, he had plump lips, and he was tall with dark hair, a few strands of hair fell over his face as he looked at you.
you can only assume he’s new to the campus, because you would’ve definitely noticed him around
you cleared your throat, “hmm, that was my breakfast.” you look back down to see the coffee has landed on this guy’s all white shoes.
the tall man chuckles, “and this seems to be my new shoe polish.” you bring your hand up to your mouth in embarrassment, “i’m really sorry. i didn’t even-“
before you can finish he cuts you off, “don’t worry, i can just get another pair. i do think i’ll have to owe you another one” he says referring to the spilled coffee cup.
you blink up at him, “is that a way of asking me to get coffee with you?”
the guy shrugs his shoulders and smirks, “depends on how you take it, i’m seokjin”
seokjin holds out his hand, and you shake your head slowly as you grab his hand, “y/n”
you smirk slightly, “and you said you owe me one, meaning you get it for me, not with me”
his hand holds onto yours a bit longer, “come on, are you so busy you can’t get one coffee with me, just one day?”
you imagine how you must look in front of him, your hair is a bit messy from sleeping through your alarm, eye bags from the constant late nights, and you’re wearing basic jeans and an oversized shirt you wear when you know you have to sit and just draw in class that day.
you cross your arms “no, i’m turning corners at the speed of light for fun and not because i’m overwhelmed with the amount of assignments i have to get completed.”
seokjin looks down at you with a cocky smirk, “so you’re admitting that this was your fault?”
you purse your lips together, “you know what? you’re 6ft body should’ve been watching where you’re going!” you breathe deeply, “also you’re making me late to class!”
you grab the strap of your bag and adjust it to a comfortable feel. and he speaks up again, “so you’ll let me make it up to you? for the coffee?”
you chuckle, “you just don’t know when to quit, huh?”
he does that stupid cocky smirk again, “no, not really.”
you remove your bag from your shoulder, digging in the pockets for a pen and piece of paper. you smile as you pull out a sticky note and quickly write down your number, you hand it to seokjin and he fiddles it between his fingers
“i’ll text you so i can owe you that coffee, y/n”
you feel your cheeks heat as you nod, “bye seokjin”
you turn around and continue towards your classroom, and you swear you could feel his eyes watching you until you turned another corner
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
you shortly make it to your classroom, quietly opening the door to see wooden stands and chairs aligned in a half-circle.
your eyes scan the room frantically before landing eyes on your best friend, jimin, who waves at you to quickly get in while your professor has her back to the door.
you make it to your seat before she faces the classroom, “we have 3 full hours today, so i highly suggest you use your time wisely!”
she makes her way around the lineup of chairs, widening her eyes at some of the students.
“i expect each and everyone of you to apply the techniques we have learned so far to this project,” she clears her throat, “and as you all know, we will have a nude live model this week, so please make him feel comfortable and welcomed.”
you place your sketchpad on the stand, and open to a page, then you reach into your bag to get out some essentials, and you hear the door creak open and footsteps echo the room.
you hear your classmates clap for the model as you place your things on the edge of the stand. your relatively large sketchpad blocks you from seeing the model, but you know he’s made his way to the small platform that has a chair for the model to sit or stand in different positions.
your professor speaks up, “i’m sorry, what was your name again?”
“it’s seokjin.”
your eyes widened at the model’s response. there was no way this was the same seokjin that you had bumped into and spilled coffee all over his shoes and who you gave your number to…
and now you were going to be drawing and detailing his naked body.
you peak your head to the side, and there he is, in nothing but a white robe.
“seokjin, we’re ready whenever you are” your professor says, nodding and starts making her way to the back of the class.
your professor stops in front of you, “you need a better view y/n” she whispers, moving your stand a little to the right.
“oh, thank you” you smile at her, and now all you can think is how he’s most likely going to notice you.
you’re not sure what’s worse; him seeing you before or after he takes his robe off.
seokjin stretches a bit, cracking his knuckles and turning his head from side to side and you grab your pencil, flicking it on your thigh.
seokjin grabs the tie around his waist and just before he pulls it to loosen it, his eyes meet yours.
his eyes widened slightly and his cheeks turned a shade of pink.
seokjin looks down and chuckles to himself, shaking his head slightly. but he takes a deep breath and pulls the robe tie loose letting it fall on the platform,
seokjin gets on the platform and sits on the chair, crossing his arms and he bends one leg and sticks the other one straight out, his head is facing the right side of the classroom.
“okay, class, let’s begin!” your professor chirps from the back of the classroom and displays a timer on the projector.
you grab your pencil and begin to start outlining his proportions. you take a good look at seokjin, he’s got broad shoulders and defined abs, you also take notice in the small tattoo on the side of his waist. you also can’t help but notice the tint of pink still on his face.
there’s a big window that lets in natural sunlight so you focus on how the sun casts shadows on his nose and eyebrows and the way the light emphasizes his biceps and shoulders.
you managed to get a rough sketch down, and you tried your best to get the shape done right, erasing and re-sketching the lines and shapes that didn’t look the best.
it wasn’t long until seokjin stretched again, he stretched out his arms and slowly moved his head, his eyes searched the room until they found yours again.
his eyes stayed focused on you as he got back into position, and all you could do was smile shyly before returning your attention to the canvas.
you knew seokjin was watching you, you could feel his eyes on you as you kept sketching him.
and the next time you looked over at him, he chuckles, almost as if he wanted to laugh. you’re not sure why, but now you start to blush.
you knew you were gonna have to start sketching the rest of his body, his naked body, but just how were you gonna do it when his eyes are on you?
you take a deep breath, moving past his stomach and you begin sketching out his lower body, starting with his hips.
you could feel your cheeks heating up, and god, you hope seokjin isn’t too weirded out by this whole situation and decides to never speak to you again.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
the 3 hours seem to have gone fairly quickly, and while your professor dismissed the class, seokjin grabs the robe and puts it back on. your eyes follow as he makes his way back to a little room where he can change.
you knew jimin had to head to work early today so you say goodbye and watch as he walks out of the class with majority of the students
you take your time putting your materials away, in hopes of seeing seokjin before you leave campus.
you grab your bag, and place it on your shoulder and you see seokjin coming out in his regular clothes with an embarrassed smile.
you cross your arms, “so you’re a naked model huh?”
seokjin laughs, “you think i go around telling everyone i find beautiful that i do naked modeling for college students?”
you shrug your shoulders, “so you think i’m beautiful?”
seokjin puts his hands up in defense, “you know i usually take someone out before i let them see me naked”
“well, you do still owe me that coffee, and this was my last class of the day.” you raised your eyebrows at him, seokjin just chuckles before nodding his head, and you both makes your way out of the art building
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gavisuntiedboot · 1 year
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Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)
Part 10
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Epilogue
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Warnings: SMUT!! and also BAD WRITING!! TYPOS AS WELL PROBABLY!! BUT MAINLY THE SMUT!!!
Word Count: 21.5K (Fun Fact: If you have read all of JP, that's 159 pages single space of reading.)
A/N: Here it is. The finale of my heartfelt daydream, laid bare for you all to see. I hope you've enjoyed the ride: the road ends here.
GIF: @gavidaily (i've been waiting since part 1 to use this mf gif)
Previously on Just Pretend
"Scrubs? You look too young to be a doctor." "You don't look old enough to be let into the club, but everyone is full of surprises."
~
"You're late. It's 6:45." "Good morning to you too, Gavira."
~
Gavi found himself glancing at your ass as you leaned over, before swiftly looking away. He did not like you. He had a baseline of respect for you as a young successful professional. Nothing else.
~
"Are we not friends, y/n?"
"I'm not sure, Gavi. We could be if you stopped hating me."
"I don't hate you. I think."
~
Gavi stopped thinking. He acted on impulse only. He tugged the wrist that was in his hand, pulling you in. Your head met with his hard chest, and you felt one arm circle your shoulder. You remained like this for a long moment: up against Gavi, his arm pressing you into his chest, his shirt soaking up the wetness on your cheeks.
"'m sorry. I won't let him talk to you that way anymore."
~
"It's okay, Pablo. I can take care of myself." A tear finally rolled down your cheek.
"I know you can, Doctora. I know you could take on the world if you wanted to. But you shouldn't have to. You deserve to be loved and spoiled. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
~
"You saved me Pablo." You whispered out against him, needing to tell him someway, somehow, how much you appreciated him.
"Anyone would have interfered, doctora." He whispered back, being bold and caressing the skin of your arm that he encased with his.
"Not just today. In general. Since I met you, Pablo, you've made my life better. I just wanted to let you know. Good night."
~
"Because from the moment I laid eyes on you, I felt like I knew you. I don't know if I saw you on the street or in a dream, but a part of my brain recognized you, and since then I've been in pain. Pain that you can't even help me with. Nobody can. It's so hard to watch everyone take advantage of you all the fucking time. It tears me apart constantly. But it let me get closer to you. You let me get closer. And I tried so hard to keep it at bay, to be the friend that you need."
~
"My heart, doctora. When I give it to you, please keep it. Forever."
~
Now...
"Miss y/l/n, due to the... historic lack of women in the club, we do not have internal policies regarding relationships between players and employees. We just use the ones that La Liga as a whole have put in place. Those are quite forgiving, in my opinion. You can enter a romantic workplace relationship as long as it is appropriately disclosed, and you cannot be terminated as a result of that relationship ending. I saw the photo of you being pulled onto the field during the final of the Supercopa. Do you mean to tell me it was not with romantic intent?"
You had never experienced more severe whiplash in your life. First, you had been reprimanded for being too close to Pablo, for showing what Xavi classified as 'favoritism', as it hurt the team dynamic. Then you had been ridiculed by staff and players for allegedly sleeping with Pablo, and had been told you could be fire for doing so even if it was a bold faced lie. And now, months later, you were being told that it was not only okay for you to be in a relationship with Pablo, but you literally couldn't lose your job if you did? Someone in the family must have been praying for you. Or for Pablo. Was Pedri religious?
"Dr. Gonzalez, I think there has been some sort of misunderstanding. Gavi and I are just friends. Not even - we're just coworkers that get along well! There was no romance happening anywhere on the field."
And it was true. Well, sort of. You couldn't speak for Gavi's intention, but you would bet that he hadn't meant to do anything that could be perceived as romantic. Not only was he incredibly shy when it came to anything to do with his private life, but moreover, you had started to toy with the idea that maybe you were wrong about Pablo. Maybe you had misread the signs. Maybe Pedri's stylist, who you now also so lovingly referred to as naranja, had only fed into your delusions instead of delivering the hard truth to you.
"He's in love with you, stupid."
That's exactly what she had said to you when you answered the question 'so are you close to Pedri?', stating that the things Pablo did for you were far from the actions of a friend. And she was right. Friends didn't need to be physically touching in order to have a peaceful night of sleep. Friends don't feel the need to always be near the other, unable to focus if one wasn't near. Friends certainly didn't imagine each other in compromising situations: shirtless, panting, trying so hard to control his throbbing- no. Friends certainly didn't imagine such scenes. Most of all, friends didn't find themselves in these intimate moments, the air thick with anticipation, where lips were centimeters from meeting, and seconds away from saying something that would change the dynamic forever. Well, at least that's what you thought. Maybe Naranja would be your friend long enough to see if these were truly just normal hallmarks of friendship (although Pedri might be a tad upset if the two of you started sleeping together). You're glad she offered her cellphone number to you.
But this was not the only opinion that was presented to you. You had been sitting on your couch one night, a rare evening when Gavi had promised to accompany Ansu to one hangout or another, his absence felt greatly. It had been weeks since you had a moment that wasn't filled by Pablo's voice, his laughter, his breathing as you completed an assignment while he scrolled through TikTok. There was an eerie silence to the house now, and you needed something to take your thoughts off of your maladaptive daydreams of Pablo laying on your couch, looking up at you through long lashes with a tender gaze. It was almost as if you could run your hands through his messed up brown locks, watching his eyes close as you massaged his scalp, feeling him lean more into your touch.That's all you wanted. Not even for Pablo to come to you with a grand confession of love, but just to be with him with no boundaries, no fear, no awkwardness. Just love and safety and the freedom to exist as you were. Together.
But there was no idle chatter or TikTok sounds to fill the silence, and so you had to do so yourself. You made yourself a delectable cup of tea, favorite mug warming your palm as you tried to balance your plate of snacks in the other. The camp nutritionists had been testing recipes all week, and had sent you home with some of the best food you had ever had, including a tupperware of cookies that could give those little Nestle birds a run for their money. Comfortable on the couch in that same black hoodie with the embroidered '6', you qued, rather ironically, He's Just Not That Into You (a great romcom, but not for people doubting if they're deserving of being loved). Your phone had lit up with a familiar name that you hadn't seen in months now.
"Angelika! How are you? How was fashion week? I saw the collection on Instagram. It looked stunning!"
Since her announcement about moving to Paris, you hadn't heard a peep from your 'best friend'. A mutual friend you ran into at the market had told you her move had been delayed until after the collection had shown at fashion week since the creative director had surprisingly quit, so everything was on ice until he was replaced. You had seen her collection on Diet Prada, not questioning why you hadn't seen the posts that she had made celebrating her work.
"Oh it was fabulous, and Alessandro just got replaced so Paris must be coming soon. I would have invited you, but I only got 6 invitations, and you're always so busy. Didn't want to have an empty seat."
She knew she had made a mistake when she saw your face on the screen drop. You had been the main supporter of Ang's career since you met her, and yet she didn't even bother sending you an invitation or seeing if you might be able to attend.
"Anyway, how have you been? What's new with you?"
You spoke briefly about school and work, before taking a deep breath and opening up the gnarly can of worms that was you and Gavi's current situation. You had no other people with enough context or who you felt comfortable enough with to reveal all your thoughts on the matter. All your hopes and dreams that he would sweep you off your feet. All your insecurities and fears that you had created something unhealthy, something that would dissolve into worse than nothing. No matter how you spun it, it was nice to have a friend, even if you had to ignore that you were walking a mile to see an inch in return.
Angelika listened rather silently to the entire series of events, asking one or two clarifying questions, but for the most part allowing you to monologue. When you finished speaking, you sighed rather dreamily and fell back into your couch, pulling your (Gavi's) hoodie closer around you. Sometime you forgot how much he had bulked up, until you were drowning in the shirts he had donated to you. Maybe there was something there. Now that Dr. G had confessed he thought you two were already in a relationship, the only missing piece was Pablo. You had tried to hint to him that, if he felt even the slightest affection towards you, he should go for it. Make the shot. The goal was empty - hell, the goalie would even guide the ball in for him. Had you been too subtle with your affections? Or had he purposefully ignored the brush of your lips on his throat in order to preserve your pride?
“Don’t you think you’re being a little bit delusional?”
Angelika’s statement was like a splash of ice water on your warm and fuzzy form. You looked at the FaceTime call like the woman on the screen in front of you had grown horns from her head.
“I’m … what?”
“Delusional. I mean it seems like you’re reading too much into his actions. So he what? Used you as his driver and let you keep a hoodie he got from the staff for free? Nothing super special.”
“But… but it wasn’t just that. He-“ She hadn’t even let you finish your sentence, not so subtly rolling her eyes, like she was so utterly bored with your story.
“Yeah, yeah, he punched your ex boyfriend who cheated on you. But I mean, cmon, you like, refused to fuck him. This is the second guy to cheat on you. Maybe it’s you, ha. And Gavi is literally just a raging teenager who has been looking to hit someone. I don’t think you should fly into your princess fantasies because he he finally lost his shit. And now you’re sleeping next to him every night and he’s waiting for you to give him some pussy. Better melt up quick, ice princess, before he gets tired of waiting.”
There it was again. The nausea. The head pounding. The vision blurring and room spinning. The sinking feeling that you were being betrayed by someone you had let in again. If you squinted your eyes a little, she might have even slightly resembled Martin.
“You… think he’s only being nice to me so that I’ll sleep with him?” You asked, voice soft and slow to hide the shake desperately wanting to emerge.
“Oh, absolutely. It’s not like there’s much else there. Now you look upset, but don’t be. I’m just telling you the truth so you don’t get hurt.”
“No, you’re just being a bitch.”
Your response seemed to have caught the both of you off guard. Your face had gone red with frustration, hands trembling with rage that you were desperately trying to quell. What a funny thing, rage. Feminine rage to be exact. The rage of men is common place in society - sort of like bullets. Everyone has heard a gunshot or seen what a bullet can do, in their personal life or on a screen. Male rage and fury is a normal part of life that everyone expects and respects. People bite their tongues hard enough to draw blood before they dare lash out at a man, fearful of sharp words and blunt fists. But feminine rage wasn’t a real threat. Oh no, it was more of a concept. A black and red Pinterest aesthetic in red and black, with pinups and devil horns and swirling script. It was only a danger to the self; a threat of implosion with no shrapnel to hit anyone else. A star dying, a mind shattering, as entertainment to those around. There was never an expectation for her to lash out and defend herself against those who poked at her until she bled. But should a cornered lioness cower in fear rather than attacking?
“What… what the hell is wrong with you?”
“No, what the hell is wrong with you, Angelika? All I’ve done since the day I met you is try and be there for you. All I’ve done is support you through everything - relationships, family drama, you’re entire fucking career! You had professors tell you that you would be a generic designer for H&M, and I was there for you. I was the only person with you at three in the fucking morning telling you that you could do better, that you could be amazing. I was a pincushion, a mannequin, a personal chauffeur to the fabric store. And I didn’t ever do these things because I wanted something in return. I genuinely cared about you and just wanted to see my closest friend succeed! But you couldn’t even pretend to care about this obviously one-sided relationship. All I ever was to you was a person to use when you needed and thrown away when you didn’t. I was preparing for my dream interview, my biggest career goal since I was a fucking child, and not only did you ‘forget’ to give me one word of encouragement, you asked me to be your fucking ride home! And you know what? I made my peace with it. I came to terms with the fact that you thought I was incompetent at my job because everyone seems to think I’m a physio ditz. But for you to call me the nickname people called me in college to objectify me, and then say all I’m worthy of is sex?!”
Angelika was now teary eyed and red in the face. She was shaking her head, unable to respond, acting like the spitting image of a deer caught in the headlights. She was now stumbling over her words, unable to string a complete sentence together.
“That’s … thats not true I didn’t say that.”
“No, that’s exactly what you just said. Don’t be a liar on top of being a shit person. You just said it was my fault I got cheated on by my last two partners. And now I’ve still decided to give you the benefit of the doubt after you straight up admitted to me that you didn’t think of me as one of the top six people in your happy moments. I’ve poured my heart out to you and you don’t even have the decency to lie! You either said that to purposefully hurt me, or you never cared enough to listen when I spoke. Either way, you’re just the last in a long line of people who I have let walk all over me.”
Your expression was steeled and icy. You hadn’t even raised your voice once during the entire exchange, remaining calm and level headed despite the deep cuts you had made in Angelika’s self-confidence. Your lips were downturned and brows knitted together, looking at her with all the loathing she had caused you to feel for yourself. It was hard to be alone, but it was better than being surrounded with people who convinced you that you would never be enough if you didn’t fit their mold. The girl on the other side of the FaceTime call was clearly experiencing every stage of grief all at once, unsure how to respond. She had gotten through the denial, and was knee-deep in the anger. But anger did not spark eloquence, sparking the simple response of,
“Fuck you. You can go to hell.”
And you could swear you saw genuine fear in her eyes as a bright, beaming smile spread across your face. Maybe you had never seen love, but you had seen friendship. You had seen that there were people ready to carry your entire world on their shoulders. And no matter how slowly, you were working to believe that you could be loved, even by yourself. The rage had evaporated and recrystallized as content. So you smiled sickeningly sweetly at Angelika, and gave her a heartfelt response.
“I’ll see you there, darling.”
Pressing the bright red button to end the call was one of the most satisfying things you had ever done in your life. The headache and nausea and ‘I want to die’ feeling that you usually had after a confrontation was nowhere to be found. Quite the opposite, actually. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Your entire chest felt like it had more room for air. Was this what every day was like for people without anxiety? How glorious. Pressing play on Gennifer Goodwyne’s best work, you made a mental note to speak to a therapist the following morning. This felt amazing. You were genuinely smiling at… what exactly? The loss of a friend? No, no - liberation from someone’s foot on your neck. What new and exciting things could you do with this new found freedom, this fresh lease on life? Naturally, you did your favorite activity: picking up the phone and texting Gavi.
Gone were the days of Pablo wracking his brain for any excuse to email, text, or call you. It was almost funny how much he had to talk himself up, looking at his reflection and reiterating how much of a 'cool, suave guy' he was before typing out a very intelligent and eloquent 'hi'. Watching a series that he had no interest in initially just to have something to talk to you about that wasn't one of his leg muscles (no interest initially - now he was patiently waiting 4-6 weeks for his neon sign in the shape of the House Stark sigil). Now it was you who couldn't leave Gavi alone, using your messages to him as a pseudo journal, spewing your entire stream of consciousness into little blue bubbles.
[You]: PABLO
[You]: YOULL NEVER GUESS WHAT I JUST DID
Locking your phone and resting it on your chest, you refocused on the chick flick illuminating the darkness of your living room, the device vibrating against you less than 30 seconds later. As much as you would like to pretend it was surprising to receive a response so quickly, this was the normal routine the two of you had created. One needed merely call out, and the other would come running.
[Pablito]: whoever u killed they better be small
[Pablito]: bcs pedri doesnt have a lot of space fr bodies in his car
There it was again: the giggling, the lip bite, the stupid half smile that made you look less like Cindy Crawford and more like the Grinch after Christmas was destroyed. But it was the natural way your body reacted to Pablo - like a schoolgirl with a crush on a boyband member in a brightly-colored magazine. Lord, how were you supposed to be normal around him? Oh how wonderful it would be to have even one inkling that Pablo reacted this way when he heard from you. But in your head, he was still Pablo Gavi with capital letters, who was standing ever so coolly with a beer in hand as he laughed with his other hot rich young athlete friends. You could never picture him as he truly was, shy and puppy-like, beer not even touched as he held his phone in one hand and twirling his hoodie string in the other. He bit down on his lip as well, eyebrows together as he waited for a response. Despite the relationship that had grown for the last six months, he still held his breath slightly when he saw the three little 'typing' dots float on his screen.
[Doctora]: i don't think i can convey the full force over text
[Doctora]: i can come over and explain it to you in person tho
"Guys, I think I need to leave." Pablo said abruptly, looking up at the group of boys, causing a record-scratch moment that abruptly ended the conversation. The heated conversation over whether the Drake curse was real had screeched to a halt, and now all four of the young Barca players were staring in disbelief.
"You haven't even been here for an hour. Where the hell could you need to be right now?" It was Alejandro who spoke up, the only one of the four who was not acutely aware of the fact that Gavi was borderline prepared to give up his entire career for you. He only had a mild inkling.
"Um... one of my friends is coming to my house and I'm going to meet them.''
"Who? We know all your friends. Who is coming over?" Ale asked, draping an arm over fellow La Masia baby Ansu, who smirked at the Sevillano as well.
"Yes, Pablito. Who is it? Ilias?" Ansu asked, obviously enjoying the bright red that seeped into Gavi's face.
"Or maybe Alvaro?" Ale seemed to be enjoying this too much, smiling brightly as Pedri tried to sip his beer without suffocating due to laughter.
"If it's one of the boys, then maybe we should come with you! Beers from the convenience store are cheaper anyways."
Pablo was sweating bullets. How could he say that he wanted to run home to hear what might possibly be the most mundane story about keeping houseplants alive?
"No, no it's... someone from back home. You guys wouldn't know her-HIM! You wouldn't know him." That may have been the worst save Pablo had ever made in his life, including the time his friends made his 5'0 self play keeper in a pick up match. Pedri finally lost the battle and spit out his beer, laughing loudly with the rest of the boys.
"Bro, why can't you just admit your massive crush on the doctor already. It's honestly getting a little tiring at this point. You've been in love with her for like three months now-" Ansu started, moving towards Gavi and clapping him on the shoulder before being interrupted by Pedri, who corrected,
"More like six months actually."
"Ah! There is no way!" Now Pablo was being ping-ponged between his two school friends, trying to keep himself from imploding from embarrassment.
"Why haven't you told her yet? Seriously now." Ale asked, pulling up a chair for himself and Pablo, the group sitting back down, conversation topic having changed into something juicier.
"You forget that he like stopped hating her and then she directly got a boyfriend, right?" Pedri said, signalling for another round of stellas to be brought over to the table.
"I don't think we should order another round. I was going to-" Pablo started, trying to nervously get up. Would he be able to find a taxi? Or should he just order an Uber? Neither possibility was explored as Pedri stuck his arm out and pushed him back into his seat, where he was now firmly locked in.
"Spill your guts. The quicker you talk, the quicker you can tell her to come over. I'll drive you home."
"Should you really be driving if you're going to be drinking?" Pablo asked cautiously as the four beers were placed on the table.
"oh, no, I'm done for the night. Two are for Ale and Ansu, and the other two are for you. For, ya know, confidence."
[Pablito]: u wnna met me at my hosue in an hours
The six minute pause between the 'Read' notification and the response from Pablo had worried you slightly. It was just enough time for the anxiety to seep into your bones. Did he find your desire to see him overwhelming and (God-forbid) clingy? Was he showing the message to Pedri & Co., laughing at your desperation? The misspelling made you even more worried. The spiral of thoughts was taking a sharp turn in the downwards direction. Was he even looking at his phone while typing? You didn't want to be a burden to him during one of the rare nights he could enjoy himself.
[Doctora]: are you sure? i don't have to come over if you're busy
"See now she doesn't want to come." Pablo said, now two beers deep with one more to go so that Pedri would let him leave.
"You're so stupid, Pablo. She wants you to want her to come over." Ansu said frustratedly. Pablo was trying to say as quickly as possible in between gulps what was stopping him from confessing his feelings to you. It had gone along the lines of,
"Well, first I thought I hated her, then I realized I was attracted to her as soon as she got an awful boyfriend, then we became like friends, I guess? Then I just kind of never wanted to ever be away from her. I had a hard time picturing a future that she wasn't a part of. Like, it started to make me have this weird aching feeling in my chest. And now I want to tell her all of this but she like, sees me as a friend and has had a shit time with her male friends and I don't want to permanently traumatize someone I love."
There was definitely more beer spit into the air and on the floor than there was in anyone's mouth.
"What did you just say?!" His too schoolmates echoed loudly, while Pedri just stared at him in a shocked state.
Pablo's brain was swimming in beer bubbles, unable to connect any dots and make intelligent, let alone sit and explain the process and intricacies of figuring out that he was, in fact, in love with you. So he ignored the question, asking rather for advice as to how he could get you to come over to his house.
"I don't think she needs that much convincing, seeing as you guys literally sleep beside each other for the majority of the week."
"Pedri, please. Enough details. You're just going to sit here and casually tell us the doctor has been in Pablito's bed repeatedly and he has yet to ask her on a date? I might collapse if I hear another shocking piece of information." Ale exclaimed, one hand over his heart as he leaned over, Ansu above him in what appeared to be genuine distress for his cardiac health.
"Pablo," Pedri started, sitting up in his seat and placing his elbows on his shoulders, obviously meaning business. "Now it's time to exercise that one petite little romantic muscle in your body."
"Isn't every muscle in his body petite?" Ansu braced himself for the punch in the arm that he received, but it was softer than previous attacks. Maybe the alcohol was really hitting him.
"Does it bother you that she asked to come over?"
"No!" Pablo responded quicker than his teammates thought possible. "I always want her to come over. She doesn't even need to ask. I would give her a key to the place if she wanted. Hell, I would sign the house over in her name. Do you think I could ask her to move in with me as friends?" His foggy brain registered the laughter, but didn't quite understand it. He would love for you to be in his house, walking through the door with you every evening, eating on the couch, fighting over the comforter and cuddling in the cold.
"See now that's... kind of a lot for a girl who doesn't know you have feelings for her. Which is a whole separate issue of oblivion that we can address later. Let's edit it down. Hand me your phone."
[Pablito]: never too busy for you. see you in an hour ;)
You stared at the wink on your screen with wide eyes. Had Pablo's phone been hacked? He had sent emojis before, but usually when he was making a cheesy joke or mocking someone else. This was ... well you actually couldn't say. Calling this behavior 'weird' would really make everything you two did, like cuddling and sleeping over and trauma-dumping, seem 'weird' as well. The only time he had ever been so outwardly flirty with you was when...
[Doctora]: Pablo are you drunk?
[Doctora]: I'm coming over to kick ur ass
"I think I got you in trouble." Pedri said, sheepishly handing back the device. Pablo groaned, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol more strongly, head spinning and stomach churning at the thought of getting scolded by you. But something in him also burned at the idea of you getting worried about him when you weren't being paid for it.
"Alright boys, let's head out so Romeo can get back to the castle on time." Pedri ushered the three tipsy boys to the car, Ansu and Ale hunched over and giggling in the back, and Pablo slumped with a cheek pressed up against the passenger window.
"Wait! I just thought of something really important!" Ale practically yelled, leaning against the car in front of his place, Ansu waiting by the door to be let in for their own sleepover and gossip session (which may become a breakfast and gossip session given their current state).
"If the doctor tries to kiss him, will Pablo have to get on his tiptoes?"
The uproar of laughter was so loud it could be categorized as a public disturbance. Ale stood, mind foggy but genuine, watching Pedri clutch both the steering wheel and his ribs. Ansu was worse for wear, falling to his knees and gripping the sidewalk for dear life, all while Pablo gripped his head in pain and embarrassment.
"Ale, please, please open the door. I'm going to piss myself laughing from the mental image. Please, Ale."
"I'm actually taller than she is, just for everyone's information." The rebuttal was coupled with crossed arms and a pout.
"With or without shoes?" Ale's follow-up question set off another round of rambunctious laughter. Pablo was now properly tipsy and overly sensitive, and was ready to go home. Ale finally let go of the coop, preventing Ansu's public urination, and Pedri could finally make his way to Pablo's place. The green vehicle pulled into the driveway, and you followed just minutes later.
"Pedri, I'm worried."
The Canarian stared at the boy beside him. That's still what Pablo was. At his young age, he was bearing the back-breaking pressure of being the best right out of the gate, and soul-crushing weight of being in love. It was more than Pedri knew himself and many of his friends able to withstand. And though he understood the sentiment clearly, he asked anyways.
"What're you worried about?"
Pablo was many thing when he had a few drinks. He was noticeably louder, more vibrant and talkative. His usual shy self loosened up, and he was much more vulnerable. He did whatever he felt like: danced, flirted with women, made bets - anything he could imagine that would make him feel alive before the liquid courage wore off and he was back to silencing the bickering voices in his head.
"I'm worried that I'm going to say something stupid and scare her off."
"Ignore what people say online, hermano. You're not actually that scary." The giggle in return allowed Pedri to breathe a little easier. He tried to push away the twinge of guilt that reminded him he had been the one to pressure Pablo to drink, and he had been the one shoving this relationship forward at a faster pace than the participants may have liked.
"No I mean... even if the 1 in a million occurs and she gives me a chance, what if I come on too strong and kill it instantly? Can you come with me?" The request and the puppy-dog look both worked to catch Pedri off guard.
"Come with you to hang out with your girl?"
"You don't have to sit with us. You can fire up the PS5 and do whatever you want. But I won't tell her I want to grow old with her like the couple in The Notebook if you're in the house."
"You want to live out the plot of The Notebook with the doctora?"
"How did you know that?" Pablo asked with wide eyes, fully convinced that the older had read his mind.
"You just told me! How much alcohol did you actually have?" Pedri was now concerned. Could he not count? Pablo had only had three beers. He didn't remember him being such a lightweight, but it probably would explain a lot.
"Ugh, see! Pedri please, I need you. Just come with me!"
Before Pedri could protest again, a small knock was heard on Pablo's window, causing both the Barca boys to jump slightly.
"Ugh, fine. But only because your gameshock controller has never been thrown into a wall."
As the two stepped out of the car, your nose was instantly assaulted with the scent of alcohol and smoke. Pablo looked at you with a red face and slightly unfocused eyes.
"Doctora! Hey!" As he moved in to give you a hug, you stepped back from him, covering your nose with the sleeve of your (Gavi's) hoodie. You looked harshly at the boys, glare flipping between the two boys.
"I can't believe you asked me to come here while you're wasted. And you! What the hell do you think you're doing driving drunk?" You yelled, and Pedri ran forward to prevent the neighbors from hearing your misconception.
"I'm not drunk! I had one beer and waited more than an hour before driving. Pablo had three beers. We smell like shit because a waitress spilled a tray full of shots at the table. Let's continue arguing inside."
You looked at them skeptically, trying to find a smidge of deceit in either of their faces. Pablo approached you and draped an arm around your shoulder. Pressed up against you, it seemed like the smell of liquor dissipated, replaced by the last traces of his cologne and his own signature scent. Leaning down slightly, his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, sending shockwaves throughout your nervous system.
"Come on, Doctora. You know I'd never lie to you. Come inside now. I need to get in the shower."
Speechless and wide-eyed, you were helpless to do anything but nod your head and be lead back inside the house that you had come to know so well.
~
"I'm going to get in the shower. I think it will help me sober up a bit. And help me stop smelling like Kettle One."
"Oh."
"Don't seem so disappointed, Doctora. I'll only be gone for five minutes. You can wait for me on the balcony; you won't even miss me. Or if you really can't be without me for a single moment, I have a very large shower."
You had stared at Gavi in shock for the umpteenth time that evening, unable to process how he was being so... unadulterated with you. It reminded you of that very first night in the club, when he had stared you up and down and commended Angel on his ability to pick girls.
"Wait you have a balcony?"
That's what lead to your current situation: sitting with your knees pressed to your chest, breathing in the early April Catalan air, and staring at the beautiful view from the window. The street was illuminated in a soft yellow glow, people roaming with hands held and laughs exchanged. The moon was full, shining its beauty down onto the street, painting everything a soft silver color that contrasted with the hazes of gold. It was one of those moments you wish you could trap between plates of glass and visit at a moment's notice. One of those moments that reminded you how far you had come. That dream, that life you had worked, cried, and prayed for - you were in it right now.
The glass door slid open behind you, ending the trance as Pablo stepped out with more blankets over one arm and two mugs in hand. You took them from him, hands warmed as he draped a blue and red blanket (his favorite, unbeknownst to you) around your shoulders. He wrapped himself in a pale yellow one and took his seat next to you, legs also by his chest as he retrieved his steaming mug. Taking a sip, the thick liquid coated your tongue, sweet and rich and reminiscent of childhood.
"So you can't even boil an egg correctly, but you know how to make perfect Chocolate Caliente while tipsy? How does that make any sense?"
Turning to you, he took a pause. The wind gently pushed your hair back, allowing the moonlight to fully illuminate your eyes, and his already hazy mind struggled not to just let himself drown in them. He was beginning to sober up, but it was nowhere near how he wanted to be in your presence.
"It was my favorite breakfast as a kid. My dad used to take Aurora and I to have them for breakfast on the weekends. When I came to Barcelona, I didn't really have anyone to take care of me like that anymore, so I learned to make it myself." Pablo hadn't meant for this to be a sad story, but apparently his tone came across as such, demonstrated by your scooching over to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. No matter the cause, he accepted the invitation to lean against you, sharing your body warmth.
"Must've been hard for you, moving here alone." Your voice was far off, as if spoken to a different person and in a different time. Flashes played in your mind of teary goodbyes and security gates, only one of your parents caring enough to drive you to the airport.
"You know what it's like," Pablo responded. "You did the same thing." He wanted to life his head and look at you, but you move first, resting your temple against his, slotting perfectly together like a teacup that had found its saucer.
"Yeah but I was 18. You were what? 11?" Your voice is still heavy with a burden that Pablo can't understand. His parents had gone with him when he first moved - and you knew that. They had only gone back to Sevilla when Gavi, shy and petite little thing that he was (and remains) told them he was fine to stay in the dorm. He had made friends quick and been praised for his football skills quicker. His parents were only two hours away, and visited semi-frequently. Life at La Masia had been Disney Channel-esque. So why did you speak about it with the same somber tone as old war stories?
"I hate that you say 'I was 18' like it was a thousand years ago, Doctora."
Pablo could feel your cheeks form a wide smile, and wrapped an arm loosely around your waist as you leaned deeper into his orbit. Of all the times the two of you had been cuddly, this was quickly becoming his favorite. Because he wasn't holding you like a secret, in the dark of night when all you wanted to do was pass out. He could see you, here in his arms of your own free will, not running away, but rather leaning in. He got to sweep the hair from your eyes, and if he focused hard enough, the dull beat of your helping the tension dissipate from his bones.
It was moments like these when Pablo knew that he was wholly and completely in love. His heart didn't race around you anymore. It wa quite the opposite now: only when he was around you could his heart beat like it was intended. It felt full. Otherwise he was walking around with this tugging in his chest, begging him to drop everything and run to wherever you were. And once he arrived, he would tear the beating organ from his chest for you upon request. It was your property, anyways.
"But I was 18 like a century ago. I'm old and withered now Pablo. What you're doing now is taking care of the elderly."
His laugh in response made him fall forward, burying his head in your lap as you blushed profusely, laughter light and breathy as to not draw attention (or get him to move). His face pressed against one of your thighs, giggling a bit too hard at a very generic joke without a singular care in the world. He leans back slightly and places a kiss to your thigh, so quick and delicate you almost missed it.
"I'll always take care of you, Doctora. As long as you let me."
You couldn't bring yourself to speak at that moment, opting to instead bring a hand up to play with his hair. Gently, you wove your fingers through the locks, softly scratching at his head like the sleepy puppy he resembled in that moment.
Several minutes of comfortable silence elapsed before he spoke again.
"Remember the first time we met?"
"Vividly." The response came quickly and honestly from you, and you were banking on Pablo's slightly incapacitated state to prevent him mocking you. But it was one of those moments seared into your memory. The lights, the sweat, the deep urge to pull Pablo against you and kiss him until that perfect pout disappeared.
"You didn't think I was 18 then. It was a hard blow to my ego. I didn't want a pretty girl to think of me as a child. But now, I'm glad we met when we did."
Soft music floated in the air towards the balcony, the performers a few streets over finishing off the night with something soft and romantic to tug on the heartstrings of passing couples in hope of separating them from some Euros. Gavi lifted his head, body following shortly as he stood. He held out a hand to help you to your feet as well. "Come and dance with me." Rising, Pablo never released your hand from his, pulling you in as close as possible, keeping you pressed to him with one arm. He began swaying and you followed his lead, now your turn to rest your head on his shoulder and simply enjoy the euphoria of being in his arms. His breath was next to your ear, raising the flesh on your neck with every exhale, before finally saying,
"Because in the future when we're real senior citizens, I get to tell people I've known you my entire adult life."
You faltered slightly, stopping Gavi in his tracks as he met your eyes. God, those eyes. If only you knew the power they had over a certain Sevillano.
"You think I'll still be around when you're an old man?" You asked, trying to stay light and airy and nonchalant as your heart hammered against the confines of your ribcage.
"Of course, Doctora. Where else would you be other than beside me?"
This was it. This was the moment. You were dancing on his balcony in his hoodie as he told you that he never wanted you to leave his side. This was the time to agree, to jump and have those strong arms catch you as you said those three words that could show you the gates of heaven or the depths of hell. You traced shaking fingers down one of his biceps, eyes meeting as with ragged breath you began.
"Pablo..."
The response was the sound of the glass door being shoved open, causing the two of you to jump a foot apart. Pedri stood there, cheeks flushed like when Xavi played him all 120 minutes.
"Pablito!! You had a case of beer in the fridge to reward me for being the DD!" This man was on another planet, bringing you back down to earth.
"You should get him to bed. I need to get going anyways."
"No!" The protest was louder than anticipated, startling both you and Pedri, who had gotten bored of playing sober FIFA and may have over-indulged when Pablo's balcony date with you entered its second hour.
"I mean, I'll get him to bed. You haven't told me your story yet. I would hate for you to leave without finishing the reason why you came. Wait for me on the couch, I'll be five minutes."
There was a pause, almost a reluctance from you to break the strong eye contact. He knew that there was something else you wanted to say. There was always something left unsaid between the two of you. He watched your form disappear down the stairs as he guided Pedri to his room (he didn't want his soon-arriving sister to sleep on dirty sheets). "You have the worst timing imaginable, hermano." Pablo muttered out, blood boiling at how the evening had gone from 200 back down to zero in a matter of seconds. When did he even put a case of beer in the fridge? Neither of you were drinkers. His fridge was always stocked with every delight and craving you had mentioned in passing.
"You told me to make sure you didn't say anything stupid." Pedri responded, making Gavi squint at him in suspicion. He must have not as been as out of it as he let on.
"Yeah but I think she- nevermind. Go to sleep."
"Calm down Pablito. It's not like I interrupted your first kiss."
Forcing himself to take a deep, self-soothing breath, Pablo turned from his inebriated friend and shut the door.
Making your way to the living room, you once again filled your senses with the boyish football decor of the living room. Checking to make sure he wasn't coming down the stairs, you sped over to the front door. The pictures on the wall remained as they were previously: childhood, family, football. Your heart sank slightly at the thought of your Christmas present sitting ripped and crumpled at the bottom of his club-issued backpack. You turned back into the living room, making your way to the couch.
Flopping on the soft material, you kicked your feet up on the table, glancing over to look at his obnoxiously large Barca book. And there, sitting on top of it, was a simple black frame, slightly dented in one corner like it had been dropped. The frame held the two of you, angry and standoffish and forever frozen in that moment before the floodgates had been irreversibly opened. He had framed it. Pablo Gavi, the busiest boy in football right now, had decided you were worth the frame and the position front and center on his favorite book.
"So, what was so groundbreaking you needed to see my reaction in person?" His question snapped you out of your trance, and you sprung up from your place on the sofa, needing to get the photo out of your field of vision for your own sanity. Making a B-line to the fridge, the cold was inviting to your flushed face. Fruit, bread, cheese, cold cuts - no Spanish boys here. Just the comfort of food.
"Do you want a sandwich?"
~
"There's no way you said that to her! Who are you and what have you done with the Doctora I know?" Despite his reprimand, the beautiful boy before you joined in the fits of giggles that had taken over you. Having deprived yourself of a decent meal for the last week due to work (they had finally handed over all of Antonio's medical notes and they were in shambles), you fixed yourself and Pablo the most impressive sandwich you had ever conjured in your adult life. After filling his arms with every possible accompaniment, he plopped himself beside you on the couch, crossing his legs so his knee rested against yours. Before he got comfortable, he jumped up, stating he had forgotten something.
"I got these for you." The jar he placed on the table was filled with green liquid, and as you leaned in closer to inspect the label, your eyes lit up.
"You... bought me a jar of pickles?"
"Yeah. Remember one time you said you liked them so I got these. They look like the same jar." That's when you let yourself burst into tears.
The hour following had been you and Pablo in various states: his arm around you as you cried into his shoulder about how shit the people in your life had been, then hunched over plates stuffing your faces and joking around, and finally the current one of eating pickles and chips and whatever else was on the table as you recounted your demonic phone call.
"I did but like I've wanted to say it to her for months now! You don't understand, Pablo, because you're friends with the amazing, caring, thoughtful being that is me." More giggles as he shoved a pillow into you, smile so bright it could light up the entire first floor. He was never afraid to be like this around you: silly and playful and just comfortable.
"La la Doctora, ladies shouldn't use such foul language." It was your turn to shove his shoulder, probably causing you more damage than him due to the rock-solid muscle.
"Thanks papa, appreciate the advice. But like seriously, she asked me to drive her to Madrid one weekend - as in like Madrid five hours away - to go to a specific store. You know what she bought there? Buttons. 10 hours of my life and a hell of a lot of gas so she could get buttons! And it's not like I expected anything in return-"
"No of course not. It's just when you do nice things for people and are kind to them, you want them to act the same. Treat others how you want to be treated." Pablo bit his tongue there, scared he would sound immature or stupid. You were several years his senior in age and education, and the last thing he wanted was for you to water-down your feelings because you thought he wouldn't understand.
"Right?! See, you get it! And I just, ugh, I feel kinda bad because like she didn't really do anything directly. Like yeah her show and stuff but there wasn't really a moment or like a fallout." You moved towards Pablo, leaning on his shoulder as the moment took a more serious turn.
"But that's the whole point isn't it? That she didn't do anything, she was just kind of there and reaping all the benefits of friendship with no effort. And-"
"Doctora, can I interrupt you for a minute?" You felt Pablo's shoulder dip slightly, and disappointed as you were, took the sign to lift your head.
"Sorry I didn't mean to take over your personal sp-"
"Ay shut up about my personal space. I'd handcuff you to me if I had the chance." He quickly looked away from you, processing his comment after he had said it. Nice one Gavito - real friendly. He moved some of the cushions to the end of the couch by the arm rest, kicking off the more decorative ones and leaning down. Honey eyes looked at you between thick lashes, and patted the narrow sliver of space beside him. Rolling his eyes at the confused raising of your brow, he verbalized his request.
"Come lay next to me while you rant."
Oh. Oh. Had he ever asked you outright to cuddle with him? The first time, you had been the instigator. You had taken that leap off the bridge - no, the cliff - and yet there he had been, warm and welcoming, catching you with grace. Ever since then, there had really been no words. Talking about his desires and feelings didn't come naturally to Pablo, and so he steered clear of them all together. It was always something unspoken: he would be at your apartment and just follow you down the hall when you declared it to be bedtime. Or when you had spent too much time at the Gavira house watching reruns of the same telenovela, and Gavi just switched the TV off and guided you up the stairs. No matter the location it was always the same. Him on the right side, you on the left, but both magnetically drawn to the center and one another. You slotted into his side, head on his heart, and stabilized by his embrace. Sometimes he wore a shirt - most times he didn't. He hugged you a little closer whenever you were in his clothing, trying to dispense his scent onto it anew and make sure you would think of him whenever there was a breeze. But there were never words. Only feelings and longing gazes and that same settled silence.
"You want me to?"
"Why would I ask if I didn't want you to? Last time you fell asleep on my shoulder you almost broke your neck. Now if you fall asleep you will only be semi-sore in the morning. I mean you don't have to if you-"
"No. I mean yes. I mean no I don't not want to do that."
"Is your Spanish getting worse or did that make no sense?"
You sighed in defeat, laying beside Pablo on the couch, sinking into the fabric and into him. One of his arms was acting as your pillow, and his hand made its way upwards to softly play with your hair, an instant soother. Body turning inwards toward him, your arms were up and palms gently pressed to his chest.
"Am I too close?" You asked, Pablo's previous comment about wanting to be physically attached to you seemed to have evaporated from your mind. His second arm fell around your waist, pulling you closer in. Your thigh was now pressed between his legs, and you both seemed to hold your breath for a moment. The alarms went off in his brain while his eyes held yours. He just stared at you. That's all he ever really wanted to do nowadays. He unfroze and shook his head before prompting you to continue your story.
"Oh, right - where was I?"
"She never put any effort into the relationship."
"Oh, right." You sat up to grab one of the blankets, draping the warmth on the tangled mess of limbs, and laying back down. It was not lost on you that Pablo, despite all the jokes, had listened intently to every word you had said. Nothing Pablo did, from the way he shifted his misaligned hips to his soft breathing to the way his fingers traced shapes in your side, was ever lost on you.
"So..." and on continued your rant for about an hour. It was a different kind of catharsis to speak about your pain and receive empathy in response. To be told that the feelings poisoning your spirit were ones that had been planted and could be weeded out. It was a relief that also brought about a tiredness, where once your emotions were freed, your eyelids grew substantially heavier. But the fingers remained soothing against your hair, twisting and smoothing the locks. He pushed a few stray pieces from your face, smiling at the sleepy state on your face.
"Excited for this last month of the season?" The short international break had allowed for the season to be neatly wrapped up by the first week of May, with the Champions League final and awards ceremonies following directly after.
"Mhm," you hummed back, eyes now fully closed and cheek pressed against Pablo's warm skin. "But it's not really a month for me. It's more like a week left of the season. Copa Del Rey in three days, then you score a screamer in the net at home to win La Liga three days later. Once the season is decided, I'm back at school for practical exams." The vibration in his chest reverberated throughout your entire being, and your semi-sleeping form nuzzled deeper into Pablo, which neither of you thought possible. Fingers tightened around the semi-exposed skin of your waist, and he felt a sensation akin to weilding fire at will. Knowing full well the flames could engulf him in a torturous inferno, but oh how beautiful to hold and let dance at the tips of his fingers.
"So we have two more matches with you?"
"Three if you choke again and let the other borderline relegation team score three goals." He tugged lightly at your hair as a reprimand, your smile spreading against his neck.
"I wasn't even on the field for the full 90 minutes last game. Don't worry, we're bringing home both trophies this week. And you're getting that screamer of a goal. Make sure to record it so I can gloat forever." A gentle nod and a hum, but the sleep was slowly seeping into your senses.
"So after that, what? What's next?"
"Well you already know that Xavi offered me a permanent position for when I graduate next year. So I'm at the club on automatic placement renewal. He he I was the first one in my class to get it."
"Of course you were, Doctora. You're the best there is." Warm cheeks yet again. Pablo must think you're a natural furnace, not realizing that his sticky sweet compliments were always triggering the "Heart Overheating" alarms in your mind.
"You think too highly of me. I'll see you when you come back for preseason medicals and training. They might let me run it this year. Oh, and at the Bondor. I'll be there, too."
"At the what?"
"The Bondor." You repeated, unaware of how much you were mumbling as you drifted in and out of consciousness.
"Slow down for me, Doctora. One word at a time. Where will I see you?"
"Ballon. D'or." You repeated for the third time as slowly as possible. It was too hard to stay awake now, and let yourself slip fully into the depth of relaxation, tangled in a web of warm Pablo, basking in this moment where you could just rest contently.
Pablo on the other hand was now on high alert. There had been a lot of commotion in the club when the nominations were announced. Pedri had pulled up the livestream on the projector, the entire squad waiting with baited breath for the categories of interest. There mutters all around about how the whole ceremony was a scam and had royally screwed over Robert, but who was going to turn down the honor? You had seen the stampede (led of course by Luca, who was always at the head of any effort to get out of doing his job) and followed quickly, afraid someone else had passed out. The players had been pushing themselves to stay miles above Madrid in the league, and it was taking a real toll. You looked up at the ceiling as you speed-walked, praying that everyone (especially Dembele) was okay. You would really like a calm week.
"Now, the nominees for the Kopa Trophy, awarded to the best player under 21 years of age..."
Ansu caught your eye as you entered and waived you over, instructing you to sit with him and the other young Barca boys. Gavi had been given a seat in the middle, the throne of the meeting room, as the murmurs circulated once again. You hadn't been aware that Pablo was a contender for this award - not surprised, but your schedule didn't allow you to keep on on Twitter as you once had. You wrung your fingers, heart hammering as the presenter spoke with that slow TV drawl that made everyone want to commit arson.
"Jude Bellingham, Jamal Musiala, Bukayo Saka, Eduardo Camavinga, Gavi-"
You were sure there were other nominees, but the shouts of joy and thunderous claps on Gavi's shoulders prevented any more information from entering your ears. The coaching staff and older players commended him on the achievement, and you had to wait until the room was essentially cleared to stick out your hand and offer a congratulatory message.
"Are we doing handshakes now?" He asked, eyes flitting between you and Pedri's gossip circle occupying the far corner.
"It feels more professional. This is a professional achievement after all."
""I haven't achieved anything yet." He said shaking your hand firmly and lingering much longer than was appropriate for the workplace (and 'friends').
"What are you talking about? You've been nominated! That's huge in itself given that a lot of your teammates also qualify for that award."
"Yeah but Pedri snatched it last year. They won't hand it over to the same club two years in a row."
"Doesn't Messi have like 27 Ballon D'ors in a row?"
"Please don't use Leo as an example. I am just a regular human being." As the two of you made your way into the hall, out of the line of sight of Pedri's tea spilling team, the laughter and teasing died down. You turned to Pablo, bringing one hand to rest on his arm, smoothing the fabric of his training jacket with your fingers as you looked up at him.
"You're a brilliant player, Pablo. One of the best this club has ever seen. You are incredible and have the brightest future ahead of you, and I just hope I get to be a part of it. That award it yours - I can feel it. But even if it isn't, don't sell yourself short. You amaze me every day."
This was the best news since his promotion to the first team. He had been pushing the Paris trip to the far recesses of his brain, a bout of nausea and anxiety striking him every time he conjured the thought of walking down that carpet or speaking on stage. But now you were going to be there. You would see him in the finest suit D&G would lend him, hair perfectly gelled down (he would need a trim). And he let himself ever so briefly entertain the fantasy of you watching him win. Of the announcer calling out his name, the crowd rising to their feet in deafening applause as he accepted the trophy from Pedri. He would look out into the crowd and see you there, sending a wink your way before thanking everyone who helped him achieve this, especially the medical staff. He drifted off to sleep replaying this scenario in his head, a trophy in one arm and the girl of his dreams in the other.
Pedri woke up with a minor headache in the morning, sunlight pouring through the large windows directly into his eyes. He would be buying Pablo some blackout curtains for Christmas. Descending from his place, he walked across it: a real sight to behold. You and Gavi were tangled together on the couch, legs an absolute mess with the blanket pooled around them. Your head was on his chest, face nuzzled upward into his neck. Your hands were fisting his shirt, as if afraid someone would rip him from your clutches. Pablo wasn't much better. He had his arms wrapped around you, one on the back of your head and one around your waist. He had managed to pull you on top of him in the night, his back flat on the sofa and your weight pooled on his chest and bringing him tranquility. His lips rested against your forehead, his face perfectly positioned with yours. He held you tight against him, and your unconscious form rose and fell with each of his deep and even breaths. Despite his best efforts, Pedri couldn't stop himself from snapping a picture of the moment. Thank God his ringer was always off. He did have enough self restraint to prevent him from sharing the photo with his group chat with Ansu, Ale, Eric, and surprisingly Robert (he just likes to be included). The name had changed numerous times in the last several months, and was now simply called "friendship" my ass for obvious reasons. He knew this would be a picture Pablo and you would look back on fondly when one was finally courageous enough to just let go. But until then, it sat safely in his hidden folder, and he tiptoed out the door, sparing one last look at the pair of you, sleeping more deeply than well-fed toddlers. The tension in Pablo's face was gone. Pedri hoped it would stay that way.
~
"And we are just minutes from kicking off what could be the league-winning match for Barcelona here in Spotify Camp Nou! Set to be an exciting game against Atletico Madrid, and the crowd is absolutely on fire."
"Just as well, Peter. I mean Barcelona have the ability to make this an incredible three trophy season right here today. They're coming off a massive win against Sevilla in the Copa Del Rey final, at home for what could be the league winner, and the performances we're going to see today are going to be full energy full power now that the Ballon D'Or nominee list has been announced."
"That's right we have Robert Lewandowski shortlisted for the titular award after two incredible seasons at Bayern Munich. We also have Pedri potentially passing the 'Golden Boy' torch onto his fellow midfielder Gavi, who has had an absolutely stellar season."
"Who can forget about that performance in the Supercopa, Peter. Three goal contributions in a Classico no less, the likes of which we haven't seen since Leo Messi stepped up to the plate, and we all know how that played out. He's really been putting in amazing performances week after week, and the most surprising thing is the level of health Barca have been able to maintain. For a team riddled with injuries all of last season, it is a miracle turnaround. Kick off right here after the break."
The tunnel was always busy right before kick off, but today it was quadruple-fold. You weren't sure if Barca was just extra confident in a victory today, but the media passes had tripled, and everyone was eager to get candids of the young blaugrana boys. You were pushing through people's shoulders, 'excuse-me' shifting very quickly into 'get out of the way' as you made your way to the players line up to adjust resistance tape and back braces. You were in the official physio uniform today, Nike jacket hugging your skin and tucked neatly into your trousers. The entire staff had been gifted with a new pair of cleats with the date on one side and a number of their choice on the other.
"I'm assuming 6 for you?" You had been caught off guard by the assumption from the brand rep.
"Why would you assume that? Have other players been telling you things about me?" You must have looked genuinely afraid and shocked, as the rep raised his hands in innocence, face going pale.
"No no no. I have absolutely no idea who you are. You have a 6 on your hoodie, so I thought you would want something to match."
It was discreet, a small black number on the back of your heel, and yet it was the only thing that Gavi could see as you worked to adjust Frenkie's shoulder. Did all of you have numbers? Were they in order, yours just happening to fall in the 6th position? Were there even 6 people on the physio team? His eyes stayed on your shoes until they were in front of his. He looked up to meet you raised brow.
"Why are you staring? Your shoes are nicer than mine."
Turning around, he let you test his hip alignment as he allowed himself to speak away the nerves buzzing throughout his system.
"Think we're going to win?"
"I always think you're going to win. I'm just waiting for that incredible goal you promised last week."
"What, the three goal contributions in the Supercopa weren't enough for you? You have high standards, Doctora."
"Of course. That was back in January. It's April now, Pablo. I want you to make my last game good." As you released him from your grip, he turned to face you, putting both hands on your shoulders. A few players turned their heads, but only for a cursory glance.
"If I score today, you let me pick you up as a celebration."
"Are you allowed to do that?"
"Who's going to stop me?"
"One of your fangirls might dive onto the field and tackle me."
"I have faith in you, Doctora. You seem like a fast runner."
"Always nice to have your unwavering support. Deal. Better be a good goal."
"A screamer."
You moved onto Pedri, who was next in the numerical line up, and his eyebrows did all the talking for him. You muttered a quick 'good luck' before continuing your duties in the remaining minutes before they walked out for the match.
"What a friendly little deal you've made, hermano." He leaned over and said, but the players began walking before Pablo could respond. Post -anthem, you took your place on the sidelines, jittery from the electric energy ricocheting around the stadium. No Joao for Gavi to shove around, but Griezmann was going to be a problem. The first half was rough and fast-paced, but remained scoreless. As the players came off for half time, you were instructed to help out the ones with high muscle tension. Passing Pablo, you placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke into his ear, quick and soft: "Looks like I'm staying seated all game."
Pablo turned just in time to watch you scamper off, a smirk on his lips. Pablo loved a challenge, and it was all the better to have it come from you. He had a couple opportunities during the first half, but he was scared of getting fouled too early on. Now was the time were he was able to push, with the anxiety from the beginning of the game shaken off. He tuned back into Xavi's pep talk and instructions for the second half, lips still upturned.
The media was always puffing up players, but it was true that Pedri was a magician with the ball. There was something captivating about the way he calmly danced between players, maneuvering skillfully. A pass to Araujo, then back to him. The roar of the crowd was dulled by the thrum of your heart and the snapping as you bit at your nails in anticipation. The boys had been pressing hard, and a score seemed eminent. Pedri lifted his head, looking for his striker. Lewa was locked up on the right. It seemed the moment to move back, alleviate the press and recalculate. But then a flash of blue and red streaked across his vision and his foot reacted faster than his brain. Minute 85, a scoreless game, and a ball crossed high and fast towards the menace that was Gavi. His foot connected in the far left corner of the box and there it went, screaming past the goalie's fingertips before nestling in the top corner of the net.
An explosion. You were the slowest person to react, slack jawed as the other physios shoved and shook you in celebration. Hands coming to his chest, he gripped the crest like it was a crown jewel, looking right as you as he brought it to his lips, kissing it with a force and passion that had flowed in him since he was 11 years old. He ran towards you, teammates following swiftly, and suddenly there were arms around your thighs as he lifted you. He bounced you in the air as his teammates clapped him on the shoulders, congratulating him and showering him with the well-deserved praise. You looked down, hands rested on Pablo's shoulders. His gaze was locked with yours. you wanted to tease him or commend him but there were no words. He released you, pointing at ou before taking his position.
They lifted the trophy shortly after, the players looking like children as they danced and sang in a circle. The players all took their turns squeezing the living daylights out of you.
"Doctora!" It was Dembele who called out to you, waving you over. Under the watchful eyes of his coaches, Gavi was more careful not to get too close to you (even though he had just Lion-King lifted you during the game).
"Come take a picture with all your patients and their trophy!" The request was made with laughs all around as you stood behind the trophy, Ousmane on one arm and Pedri on the other. Balde and Ansu got into the photo as well, arms all around each other.
"Gavi! Get in here! You're the one with the most clinic hours." Ousmane called out to him as well. He blushed as he walked (waddled) over, stopping to pick up the trophy and dropping it into your hands.
"This is your achievement too, Doctora. You should be proud." Pedri shoved him in beside you, claiming it helped 'balance the photo'. The flash went off twice. Once with Pablo paying attention to the camera, smiling brightly having just won MOTM in their league decider. The second was almost identical, but his head was turned to you. The smile was softer, the eyes kinder. He looked at you like the ultimate prize. As he said his goodbyes to you, promising not to miss you too much in the month you would be seperated, he realized one thing: he was going to need more frames.
~
@gaviraconcubine: ok i thot it was stupid but maybe gavi is actually w his physio???? just look at them
1,272 Likes 677 Retweets 385 Replies
@blaugranaboy: if you FEMALES knew anything, you would know barca has had shit physios and is always getting injured. since she came on staff they staying healthy. i would pick her ass up to
@barbiebalde: @blaugranaboy *too. Sexist AND bad english? pick a struggle
@88rizzing: ok but theres also pics of her out with pedri at a prada store so idk anymore???????
@gavitaylorsversion: her instagram is private :( can someone drop clearer pictures of her
You had been through some difficult situations in the last ten months, but these practical exams were the biggest challenge you had faced in your existence. 8am to 8pm lectures for two weeks, followed by a week straight of performing concussion protocols, lifting stiff boards, and demonstrating a whopping 6 different types of sutures had finally come to an end. It was May 5th, the final day of your exams, and three days before your flight to Paris for the ceremony. Your phone had been discarded for practically the entirety of the month, logged out of all social media and having your focus set to only let through emergency calls (and, of course, texts from Pablo). They had been less frequent given his understanding of your schedule.
[Pablito]: i know you have stitches today. Good luck <3
[Pablito]: Kounde asked about you today. He hasn't realized you've been missing the last two weeks. He really isn't on this planet
[Pablito]: the finale of our show came on last night. I recorded it so we can watch it together after your exams.
And now the most recent one had come through:
[Pablito]: Congrats on surviving the epic battle of your practical exams. I sent you dinner. Have a great night!
The doorbell rang in some scary accurate timing, and you graciously accepted the package from the delivery driver. Sitting on your couch to watch any comedic show that would help you decompress. The bag was huge, and seemingly filled to the brim with containers. Pasta, pizza, two types of bread, fried chicken, and three slices of cake (chocolate, cheesecake, and tres leches). There was also a bottle of sugar-free soda, for balance apparently. As you picked up your phone to ask Pablo if you were meant to feed the whole building, another text popped up on your screen.
[Santa Naranja]: Hi! I'm not sure if you remember me, but I'm the stylist who worked with Pedro for his Prada shoot? I got this number from him. You should yell at him for giving out your number so easily.
[Santa Naranja]: Anyways, I just got the list for the Ballon D'Or ceremony and I saw your name on there. How exciting! My company is styling Barca for the event, and I wanted to reach out personally to see what you would be interested in wearing.
[Santa Naranja]: Because I'm assuming you don't want to be in a suit? But I could be wrong.
You replied instantly, telling her how grateful you were for contacting you. You had been planning on wearing one of your old wedding-guest dresses, not having the time to go pick up something else. The two of you arranged to meet tomorrow at her studio, and you went back to your original mission: snapping a picture and sending it to Gavi.
He opened the message instantly, feeling all warm and fuzzy staring at the food spread on your lap and his old shirt hanging off your shoulders. You hair was up, face bare, and he wanted to reach through the phone and kiss you on the forehead.
[Doctora]: thanks for the food, pablito <3 see u in paris
"Ouch!" He yelled out, taken out of his daydream by a needle shoved into his wrist. "Pedri! Tell your friend to be gentle."
"First of all, we're not friends-"
"We're not?" Pedri asked the stylist, the smoke practically rising from her ears. She glared at him, looking extra menacing with the pins between her teeth.
"No. We're not. You're only allowed to be here if you're silent, remember? And second of all we are tailoring your suit sleeves. You're going to get stabbed if you keep moving your arms! Now hold still. She's still going to be there in 15 minutes for you to gush over."
"How did you know who I was talking to?" Pablo asked, genuine shock and curiosity across his features.
"Oh please, for the love of God, don't tell me you think you're being subtle?!"
~
"Hi! Come in come in! I didn't even realize it was raining."
Santa Naranja was, as you had recently discovered, not just Pedri's stylist. She wasn't even a Prada stylist. She was now a senior assistant stylist for Style Di Fortuna, a global firm that worked to style celebrities for different events. Since Herno and D&G started dressing the club, management had received official notice regarding their event attire.
"You should have seen the letter they sent. It was like a scolding from the school principal. 'Players must be formally and professionally styled during all official events as to avoid conflict in brand image and the tarnishing of the brand's respectability. Can you imagine dressing so poorly that you could ruin the reputation of an entire brand? Although I shouldn't expect any less. Pedro's jorts could bring about doomsday."
It was the other girls in the office that had given her the nickname 'Santa' for her saint-like patience in dealing with Pedri for... reasons. She was a completely different person when his cheshire cat smile and bushy brows were not in the room. She was calm and fun and humorous. She scurried around the workshop, pouring you a cup of cinnamon tea loaded with sugar, before running back into a warehouse closet and throwing about twenty garment bags over her arms.
"Did you have anything in mind for your look? I know that the club must have given you some basic guidelines, but what about your personal style?"
"Oh yeah, they came with the invitation. Long skirt, no slit, no trains, no plunging necklines, no open backs, no beading or gems, no appliques, and no bright colors."
The poor stylist stopped in her tracks, returning virtually every dress she had in her hands.
"Okay, let's go to the nun section of the closet. What colors would you like? Keep them boring and muted." You giggled at the remark, rattling off a list of colors. She either hummed in agreement or gave a slight pause, allowing you time to retract the wrong choice. Green, red, and white were all off the table, seeing as the wags had already claimed them.
"What's Gavi's favorite color?" She teased, shoving a garment bag at you and ushering you behind the separator to change.
"Haha, very funny. I'm not going as his date."
"You can add the 'unfortunately' to the end of that. I won't judge you."
"Sure. It's unfortunate I'm not Pablo's date in the same way it's unfortunate that you're not Pedri's."
"Please don't speak such wicked thoughts about me and Pedro into the universe."
After cycling through about 15 dresses, the weight of the event and the pressure of traveling in two days was beginning to weigh on you, a tightness settling into your chest and disrupting your breathing.
"I'm going to look so stupid at this event. Nothing looks good." You huffed as you resisted the urge to face plant into the million euro pile of fabric on the floor. Your companion huffed as well, racking her brain for any guidance on how to dress you without making you look like a churchly sister or a plastic bag.
"Okay. Do you know anything about fashion?" She asked. Her tone was soft and delicate, like a kindergarten teacher asking a poor 6-year old if they knew how to tie their shoes.
"I try and keep up."
"If you could pick any look from the last like 10 years on the runway that you would wear to this event, what would it be?"
"I can't afford-"
"Not telling you to buy it. Just imagine. If you could wish a dress into your hands right now, what would it be?"
You sat and thought for a moment. It had been a long time since you separated yourself from the imposed masculine nature of your job. Your hair stayed up, your nails stayed short, your face always painted naturally (you had gotten dress-coded for winged eyeliner once). It had been years if not a complete decade since you allowed your thoughts to be pink and flowery. You had put girlhood on pause, allowed it to hibernate for the harsh winter war of professional success. But now it was spring, and the blossoms emerged once again. You weren't a physio going for a meeting. You were a princess preparing for her magical night in Paris, your fairy standing before you. This was one of those moments where you just had to take a pause. You had worked to hard to make it here. Now that you were here, enjoy it.
"Well, Viktor and Rolf had the most gorgeous tulle dresses ad fashion week. They were all strapless and tight at the top, and they had these beautiful full skirts and velvet ribbons. If I was a wag or a footballer accepting my own award, I would wear that." You said, still allowing the rose color of your imagination to tint your reality. You entertained the thought briefly that this is the first time Pablo would see you properly dolled up, and it made you want to squeal and kick your feet like a girl waiting for prom.
"Oh my God you're so smart!" She yelled, running back into the dark passage of the closet. She returned a moment later with a black fabric bag, gold filigree embossed onto the material. She hung and began to unzip, unveiling the most beautiful dress you had ever seen in your life. It was a pale nude, almost the color of beach sand, with a fitted corset top that came down to the top of the hip bone. It then flares slightly into a layered tulle skirt, the color solid except for one band of pale blue that wrapped around the skirt, the waist accentuated with a velvet bow in the same dusty blue. You reached out one shaking hand to smooth down the fabric, almost afraid it would disintegrate in your touch. (dress inspo for those interested)
"Bouguessa just sent us this. It's more subtle than the Viktor and Rolf ones, it goes with gold and silver jewelry, won't draw too much attention, and follows that ridiculous novel of rules." She said, hands on her hips behind you.
"I can't wear this." You said, trembling at the very thought of spilling a drop of... well anything really on this dress.
"You can and you will. We had it shorted for some actress wearing it in Cannes later this month, so wear nice shoes. Nothing too tall though - Pablo is 5'7 after all." You turned to her, and the face she had expected to smile back at her held eyes welling with tears. You pulled her against you, too fast for her to process, and let the tears stream down your cheeks.
"I have never had anyone be so kind to me. I can't thank you enough."
"I'm just letting you borrow a dress," she said, arms wrapping around you as well. "Do you not have friends?"
"Let's not open that can of worms."
~
"Hi, Dr. Gonzalez. You wanted to see me?" Your head peaked in ever so slightly to catch his hand waving you over. Despite knowing on a deep psychological level that he respected you as a professional, he still scared the bejeezus out of you.
"Yes. I forgot to give you your passes for tonight's flight. You'll be able to use this to get directly into the lounge and then on the jet we have chartered this evening."
"The... what?"
"How were planning on getting to Paris exactly, Miss y/n?" He took off his small glasses, a gesture to emphasize how stupid you were being at the present.
"I was going to take the train in tomorrow?" You responded extremely unsure of yourself.
"Take the train in the morning of the ceremony? Oh this generation. No foresight. You'll meet the team in the lounge at exactly 8pm this evening."
"So what I'm hearing is... I'm going on the private jet with Xavi and the squad?"
"Yes."
"And my accomodation..?"
"You will have a room in the hotel on the same floor as the rest of the team. Any other logistical questions? Do I need to explain what the Ballon D'Or is?"
"No, no, of course not. Thank you so much Dr. Gonzalez. I'll be sure to represent Barca well as an organization that loves women!" You got up hastily from your chair, exiting the office with Dr. Gonzalez yelling behind you.
"We didn't send you because you're a woman! Don't say that to any reporters!"
The Barcelona airport was, in your opinion, nothing special. That was until the woman at the check-in desk saw your badge and personally guided you past security and into a private Air France lounge. The room was decked out in plush sofas and chaise lounges, soft spa music bouncing between the walls. Enough food to feed the entire terminal had been laid out on stone and marble platters, and three girls in matching dark blue uniforms strolled around the room, waiting to be flagged down for assistance. This was nice. Maybe gold digging was really the best choice. It's a miracle that not everyone on the quad had Ferran-sized heads if this was the treatment they were used to.
"Ay look who finally made it." The voice greeting you belonged to Xavi, who was the first to stand up and embrace you. You greeted the rest of the group and introduced yourself to both Xavi and Robert's wives, thinking it more appropriate to sit with the other women on the trip. You chatted with them until it was time to board, at which point you could no longer exercise self control. You walked up to Pablo, tapping him on the shoulder.
He couldn't suppress his smile when he saw you, and Anna whispered to her husband how you had not introduced yourself as Gavi's girlfriend.
"Well, they're not together. She's a physio at the club."
"He looks at her like he's in love."
"Yeah. Everyone has noticed except the two of them."
Fighting the urge to stuff you into his hoodie so you could never disappear for a month again, Pablo opted to instead put one arm around you, embracing you in a tight side hug. You two walked onto the plane together, effectively abandoning Pedri, while catching up on everything that had gone on since your last meeting. He sat beside you on one of the couches, spinning around to lay with his legs on top of you, which were swiftly pushed off. The two of you now sat side by side, eating from a bag of sour gummies.
"I missed you." He said softly as you watched Barcelona grow smaller and smaller beneath you. You turned back to him resting your head on his shoulder. "I missed you too. A lot more than I thought I would." There was no more talk after that. No mention of feelings or trophies or anything really. Just sour bears and that telenovela finale he promised to watch with you.
The clock in the hotel lobby read 11:44pm as you fought with Pablo to try and carry your own bag in. Well, fought is a vague term - you tugged on his bicep while he dragged you and your suitcase inside.
"We're only here for two days - what on Earth could you have brought?" He asked, letting out an exaggerated huff as he set it down on its wheels.
"Makeup is heavy, my dress is heavy, my shoes are heavy - society's beauty standards are just weighing me down at every turn." He smiled back at you, your fingers itching to pinch his cheeks and kiss him on the tip of his nose and tell him that he had a smile that could bring cities to their knees.
"Pedri! Gavi!"
You turned around to the source of the voice, watching Pedri embrace a very tall and very familiar Spaniard. As he made his way over to Gavi, he gave you a once over that indicated his brain was still trying to figure out who you were. As his hand connected with Gavi's, it was like the electricity had switched back on.
"Oh, hey! You came and interviewed at Chelsea. Convince her to stay then, hermanito?" he clapped Gavi on the back of the neck.
"No, I didn't have to say anything. She spent an afternoon with you guys and came running back to the better club." You smiled shyly, feeling a little awkward at your once potential club interacting with the one you had chosen to stay at. You stepped to the side, noticing Perdi deep in conversation with someone else. Tan, tall, and beautiful, he turned to you, smiling wide and approaching.
"Ah hello again." You were in a hug before you knew it. You reciprocated, wishing one of the boys would take a photo so you could send it to ever girl in your high school.
"Joao! Great to see you again. How have you been?" He pulled away, hands still on your upper arms as he ranted to you about his difficult second half of the season had been. Pablo sat back, loosely listening to the exchange between Pedri and Kepa, with most of his energy focused on seething at the sight in front of him. Joao had talked to you for what? An hour? Why did he feel so comfortable touching you like this? His tongue found purchase in his cheek, his arms crossed over his chest. Xavi tapped him on the shoulder to hand him the key cards for your three, giving him a perfect excuse to break up your conversation.
"Here you go, Doctora. This one's yours. Doing well Joao?" There was an obvious hint of animosity in his voice that was evident to the both of you. Nevertheless, Joao released you to shake Gavi's hand.
"I saw you on TV the other day getting picked up by this one. Twitter went crazy speculating about you two dating. You guys.. aren't dating, right?" Joao directed the question to you, now fully turned away from Gavi, whose body temperature had exceeded 100 degrees.
"No, no. We're..." your eyes flashes to him, "just friends".
"I guess anyone would be grateful to have someone like you caring for their wellbeing. A shame that you didn't come over to us for this season. But I may get the privilege if I can get Xavi to place a bid on me." Pablo let out a laugh that was too loud and enthusiastic to be polite. If Joao had been offended, he didn't let it on.
"Oh, Mason is here, too! We're going out with him and his friend Jude for drinks here at the hotel bar. You should come with us! You can come too, Gavi- oh wait, are you even old enough to drink?" The question was punctuated with a smirk, an obvious rebuttal to Gavi's humor at him joining the club.
"I'm flattered but I need to get some rest for tom- wait Jude as in Bellingham?" You asked, eyes wide.
"Of course. Know any other Jude's being nominated?" You heard Gavi breathing loud and heavy beside you, taking this as your cue to call it a night. Before you left, Joao grabbed your wrist, taking a look at your card.
"Floor three. Same as us. Maybe we'll see you around." He hugged you once more as a good night, then headed over to Mason, who waved at the group of you with Jude beside him. You made your way to the elevator with Gavi and felt embarrassed. You hadn't even done anything but be polite, but in some way you felt like you had committed a sin in talking so freely with Joao. Engrossed in thought, your face met Gavi's back as he suddenly stopped in front of a door.
"This is my room. I'll see you tomorrow." You stopped him in his tracks, one hand preventing him from crossing the threshold.
"Are you mad at me?" You asked, voice soft and even, trying to disguise the hurt.
"I- no, of course not, Doctora. Just nervous. Didn't think I'd be seeing my competition tonight." You pulled him into a hug, hands around his waist and your head on his chest with his above it. He let out a shaky breath, and all his fears with them. Joao had invited you out and yet you were still here, in his arms and in front of his door.
"Will I see you tomorrow? Before the 'big show'?" He asked, keeping you against his chest, just for a moment longer.
"Staff aren't allowed on the carpet so I'll see you inside the theater."
"Don't sit next to Joao tomorrow." He said with a slight pout, and you wanted to just pull him down and kiss him so hard he lost consciousness from the lack of air.
"I don't think they'll let me sit next to the players. Not important enough."
"You're going to be one of the most important people in that room. And just, don't sit next to him."
"I won't Pablo."
"Promise?" He said, sticking out his pinky. You rolled your eyes and wrapped your finger around his, bringing your conjoined hands upwards. You twisted them so that your thumb was facing him and vice versa. You leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to the skin of his hand. His breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed audibly.
"What are you.. what was that?"
"You have to kiss it to seal the promise."
He brought your entwined hands up to his lips, looking at you once more for any objection, before closing his eyes and kissing your knuckles.
"You have soft lips." You said looking between his lips and his hooded eyes.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Well, I'm two rooms over. Good night, Pablo. Good luck."
He watched you walk down the hall and enter your room, only returning to his when the door clicked shut. He pressed his back to the wood, allowing it to cool the sweat pooling under his hoodie. He was so thankful that he wasn't sharing a room with Pedri, because the feeling of your lips on his skin, soft and plump, had made him so incredibly hard.
~
"We are here live from the red carpet of the annual Ballon D'or ceremony, and the stars of the football world have come out in full force. On the carpet now Xavi Hernandez and his wife Núria, as well as Ballon D'Or contender Robert Lewandowski and his wife, champion in her own right, Anna. These are the veterans of football, and they should be shortly accompanied by the young trailblazers leading the New Era of Barcelona football."
It was three minutes until Gavi was supposed to step onto the carpet, and he was panicking. His breathing was shallow, his collar felt like it was suffocating him, and he was sweating bullets under his suit.
"Pedri, I can't do this." He said, genuine fear swimming in his eyes as he looked to his friend for comfort.
"Yes you can, hermano. All you have to do is walk and smile. Maybe answer some questions. You can absolutely do all of those things."
"What if I make an ass of myself?" He said, hiding behind Pedri as their handler signalled 30 seconds until they walked.
"You are here being told you are one of the best under 21 players in the world, and then you get to walk into the theater and see the best person in the world."
"I do really want to see her in a dress."
"I was talking about Leo Messi." Pedri deadpanned, and Gavi was shoved on the carpet genuinely laughing, a million bulbs flashing to capture his joy. He was here. He was 18 years old and on his way to shake hands with greatness. He was walking the carpet with his best friend in the world in a five thousand euro suit. He thought to his younger self, eleven years old and hiding behind his mother on his first day at La Masia. All the dreams he had were now the blueprint for his reality. Barca first team player? Check. Goal scorer? Check. Trophy winner? Check. Beautiful girl to share every euphoric moment with? Pending.
He took a few steps forward, waiting for Pedri to be photographed before he walked down to the end of the carpet, taking a group photo and heading to the microphones.
"Gavi! You look wonderful this evening. Are you excited for your first ceremony?"
"Oh, yeah, of course. It's something that I always dreamed about and now that my dream is a reality, I am just trying to enjoy every moment."
"Well you have had an absolutely stellar season playing with the reigning Kopa winner here, Pedri. Is it something you're thankful for, to play with him and to play with Barca?"
He looked over at Pedri, whose eyebrows were wiggling causing his serious demeanor to break.
"I'm absolutely so pleased to work with this guy here. He's just incredible on the field and we work well together. Barca is my lifelong club, and I am grateful to play there, to have them take care of me and keep me healthy." The reporter gave a thumbs up, and the boy stepped to the side to allow Pedri to finish his interview, wanted to have company as he entered the theater.
"Taking care of you and keeping you healthy, hm? Why didn't you just say her full name?"
The theater was glorious, all gold ornaments and plush red velvet, giving it a timeless and glamorous look. He craned his neck, looking around for those familiar eyes and inviting smile that had made his life so much worse and simultaneously so much better.
"Pablo." The voice came from behind him, and when he turned around, the world moved in slow motion. Your dress, pale nude and powder blue, made you look like a Greek deity. You could give the entire Spanish royal family a run for their money with the way the bodice seemed to mold against you, flaring out into a beautiful cascade of material. It ended at the bottom of your ankles, your feet hugged by blue heels, an anklet handing off that Gavi couldn't quite make out. Your jewelry glinted in the lights, the necklaces sitting between your collar bones drawing in the eye to the expanse of your chest and neck, and he had to try so, so hard to tear his eyes from this. He focused on all these details because looking at your face made him go slack-jawed.
Your hair was cascading freely, front pieces twirled away to show off the beauty of your feature. Your makeup was simple - glowing skin with rosy cheeks, black liner framing and highlighting your eyes, and glossy pink lips. Pablo knew nothing about makeup, but he knew for certain that if he got his hands on you, he would destroy whatever you had painted on your lips to make them shine. You batted your long lashes, and smiled shyly as Pedri let out a low whistle.
"Wow, who knew you were hiding all of this? Were you looking for husband tonight? This is the way to get it." He offered a hand, spinning you around so he (or rather Gavi) could get a full look, the blue bow in your hair flowing beautifully.
"You're too sweet, Pedri. I just didn't want to embarrass the club."
"Embarrass?!" They both exclaimed loudly, catching the attention of a few bystanders.
"You're on track to upstage us. They pay you enough to afford Prada?" Pedri asked again, pointing to your shoes.
"Your mortal enemy lent them to me."
A friend of Pedri's came up to whisk him away to another group, leaving you standing with Pablo.
"So, what do you think, Pablo? Too much?" You were nervous, resisting the urge to clench your dress in your fists and scurry off. You smoothed your clammy palms down the fabric as well.
"Doctora, you know I'm not super smart like you. I don't even know the words I want to tell you right now. So I'll use one I know: you look breathtaking." He practically whispered out the last word, causing your head to snap up, eyes meeting. "I think you might be the prettiest girl in the room right now." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, swallowing back his nerves and pride. You were absolutely stunning, and no friendship or professionalism would stop him from letting you know.
"Thank you, Pablo. You have no idea how much that means coming from you." You moved forward, adjusting his bowtie as an usher came to guide him to his seat. You moved to the back with other team staff members, waving to him as he walked off. You were independent and a girlboss and all that, but it felt good to have him think you were pretty.
~
"And the winner is... Gavi."
The crowd erupted in cheers, the clapping so loud it was deafening. Pedri smiled from ear to ear, watching as his friend came up to the stage to take his place as Europe's shining star, their Golden Boy. Gavi had been frozen in his seat for a second before Robert pushed him up, clapping him on the back and congradulating him. As he placed his hands around the trophy, his peripheral vision registered the people moving from their seats, standing and clapping for his success. Pedri was smug in his congratulations, reminding Pablo he never had a doubt he would be handing off this trophy to him. And as Pablo took his place at the podium, the gold statue adorning his side, he saw you. In the third to last row of the theater, you stood, by yourself in a row full of staff, clapping excitedly for his achievement. Your smile was bright, teeth on full display to convey the level of genuine joy you felt in that moment. You almost looked happier than Gavi himself. And as the applause died down and people retook their seats, he watched you sit back down, hands crossed over your chest in pride and admiration. He looked straight at you, a point of comfort in the large crowd, and only then did he allow the unbridled joy of being the very best to fill him.
"Thank you. I am so proud to have achieved this, to have won such a prestigious award in my first full season with Barca's first team. Thank you to my family for standing by me in the good times and the bad, and for believing in me. Thank you to the club, who gave me every opportunity to play and show my skill this season. A huge thanks to my coach and teammates for helping me succeed. And finally, I want to recognize and thank the Barca staff, especially the physio team, for all their hard work this season. I wouldn't be here without their dedication. Once again, thank you very much for the honor. Visca Barca."
All he wanted was to run off the stage into your arms, to ignore the questions about his season and his success, but there would be time later. You, on the other hand, were trying to recover from the shell shock of Pablo recognizing you specifically during his acceptance speech. Your phone buzzed in your lap at a mile a minute, text messages flooding in from friends and family telling you they had watched Gavi's praise of you on TV. You sat in that same shocked state until the ceremony ended.
~
Why on Earth did so many people want to talk to Gavi? Sure, he had just won one of the most important awards in football, but they had already played his highlight reel. What else could they want to know that wasn't on YouTube? He still smiled politely, congratulating Luka and Robert on their awards before he was able to catch a spare moment alone at a far table, Pedri pulling up to his side shortly after, also fatigued from small talk. His trophy was in hand, a little less shiny now that every person who greeted him had asked to hold it, the luster dulled by grease and fingerprints. The two stood in a comfortable silence, exchanging remarks about the room or the guests at the function every once in a while.
"Pablo! There you are!"
He looked up at the sound of your voice, but not nearly fast enough as you came barreling into him, arms thrown around his neck and embracing him so tight he thought he might pass out (not that he was complaining).
"I'm so, so proud of you." You whispered in his ear, squeezing a little tighter before releasing him, smoothing the soft material of his blazer to release the wrinkles you caused with your attack.
"I'm so glad all your hard work had amounted to this, and I hope I'm around to see how amazing you'll be in the future." You said, emotion making your voice crack slightly. There was something about Pablo that convinced you, deep in your soul, that you were two halves meant to come together. He was young, passionate, ambitious - a reflection of yourself. And to watch him succeed? To see him soar to heights previously thought impossible? It was something you wouldn't trade for the world.
Gavi's heartstrings were so tight they were ready to snap. He had prayed to hear so many different things from you, but never realized that this recognition, this pride expressed so freely, would be the most meaningful. This was it. This was the moment. Suit on, trophy in hand, this was the moment to express how much needed you in his life in a different way. How much he needed to keep making you proud.
"Y/N! There you are."
Joao's built arm was wrapped around you, smelling slightly of whiskey and Dior Fahrenheit. The anger vein in Gavi's forehead began to make a reappearance.
"Mason had to see you and introduce you to some of the boys." Mason greeted you as well, and called over his 'friend Jude' to be introduced. Jude Bellingham was an absolute sculpture, holding a glass of God knows what in such an effortless manner, his tie also abandoned in favor of leaving his first two buttons popped.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Jude. I've heard about you from this one - thinks you're a medical Godsend." He ended with a wink. Pedri could feel the heat radiating from Gavi's side, and apparently so could Jude, who looked up and offered a wave.
"Congrats, mate. Brilliant speech." He said, raising a glass to help bridge the language barrier. You turned your head, quickly translating the sentiment.
"Oh, you're with them? The super special physio that's gotten praised in his speech? I should've known I was in the presence of greatness." You laughed politely, tucking a loose strand of hair behind one ear.
"I'm really nothing special."
"Oh, well, that can't be true. I'll see for myself when I'm in SPain next year." A wink. Pedri grasped Pablo's arm to prevent blows. "Come with me, I want to introduce you to some of the boys and the staff from City."
You quickly turned around, finding Gavi and Pedri whispering to one another.
"Pablo! He wants to introduce me to some people. I'll come find you!"
Thirty minutes later, Pablo was at a table with his trophy and a scowl, moping on what should be a happy night. After his second turn around the room, Pedri joined him, hoping to alleviate the burden.
"Hermano, are you-"
"Why would she just go with him? Like, I understand not being able to turn someone away when they're in your face, but to go with him?! Why would she do that?" He asked, sounding more and more small and child-like as he continued.
"She was just networking, hermano. Trying to meet people and make connections."
"Connections. Look what her connections have got her. Other guys coming up to her, trying to flirt in the most obvious ways possible. None of them know her like I do. None of them will ever - can ever - care about her in the way that I do. She needs to realize that no one will ever want to treat her right the way that I long to."
"Maybe you need to realize that it's not always the best guy that will get the girl, but the boldest one."
"What?"
"How many opportunities have you had, hm? To tell her you wanted her, to profess your love, to kiss her in her car or under street lamps or in front of the whole world? But you just stay sitting on the sidelines waiting for her to come to you. You know what's happening during that time? A Joao or a Jude or a Martin is taking the risk of telling her she's amazing, and she's going to accept. She's going to accept love that's less than yours because someone else was willing to give it to her, proudly and confidently. And you'll be sitting next to me, twenty years from now when we're both retired, talking about how the love of your life slipped between your fingers. She's here, right now, and you are still waiting. Either take the shot or let someone else shoot."
A fear shot through Pablo that he had never felt before. The idea of you, right now, falling in love with someone else made the bile rise in his throat. He couldn't do it again. He couldn't watch you be with a man who thought you were anything less than the entire universe. It was him. Pablo Gavi was the one meant to have you, to hold you, to protect you from every evil and show you every joy. You were his soulmate, and he would move heaven and earth for his lover who was written for him in the stars.
He stood, scurrying to where Jude and the others had congregated. "Sorry to interrupt, but have you seen y/n?" He asked, trying to keep his voice steady and free from the terror threatening to consume him. He couldn't see your form anywhere in the ballroom.
"Oh," Kepa was the one to reply as the official Spanish speaker, "she went up to her room a few minutes ago. I think Joao took her up."
Pablo nodded before speed walking towards the door, breaking into a full sprint towards the elevators. Please. Please no. Please not Joao. Please not anyone. The ding when the elevator reached the third floor made his blood ripple, and he speed walked to your door, muttering under his breath.
"Please don't be in love with someone else."
He reached the door of your room, paralyzed with fear. He didn't know what he was about to do, but he knew he would implode and self-destruct if he didn't do something.
He lifted his fist, took a breath, and knocked firmly on the door. A moment later, you opened the door, still in the perfect shape he saw you before, but now barefoot on the plush carpet of the hotel.
"Pablo?"
He peered over your shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the room behind.
"Are you looking for something?"
"Please, tell me he's not in there."
"Who, Pablo?"
"Anyone. Please tell me that there is no one in there now waiting on you. Please tell me," he pleaded softly, moving toward you and placing his hands on your shoulder, moving one down to rest right above where your heart beat. "Please tell me there is no one else in here. I have never begged in my life, Doctora, but I'm here now to beg you: tell me who is the one you're reserving a place in your heart for. Because I know, more than I know anything else in this world, that my soul is yours. Everything I could possibly give, I am asking you to take it without a second thought. And I have pretended, for months now, that I don't need you like the very air I'm breathing. But the more I pretend, the more clear it becomes: I have never loved anything as strongly as I love you. It is overwhelming and all consuming the way every heartbeat and breath is just for you. So just tell me how long I will have to wait. Days, months, years - tell me how long it will be until I get to love you, wholly and completely. Until I get to love you as you deserve. Because there is no other choice. There is no moving on. Every angel in heaven knows that I would struggle in vain until my last dying breath trying to get over you."
There were no words. Hell, there was no air. There was only Pablo, breathless and shaking before you, his fragile heart in your hands. Your hands moved to cup his face, and the urge to cry didn't consume you. You pulled him in, lips finally connecting with his, and the electricity that jolted through you could have lit up all of Paris. His lips were slow to react, and as you pulled away he followed, reluctant to stop kissing you in fear he would never start again.
"You, Pablo. My heart is yours. I'm yours. I always have been."
This time it was Pablo who pulled you in, his arms around your waist lifting you into him. He basked in the plump flesh of your lips, the way it felt to hold you in his arms, a million times better than he could have imagined. It was as if your hearts were racing in sync, thumping the same beat that reverberated around the little bubble the two of you were in. You shifted hands from his face to his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. You had craved this, to be so close and connected with Pablo. The kiss was slow, passionate, the kiss to say 'I have waited for you for so long' and the one in return to say 'I'm here to stay'.
Pedri had gone upstairs to look for Pablo, scared he had committed manslaughter, and found the two of you there, kissing in the hallway, arms enveloping each other and lips locked in a soft and tender embrace. He placed Pablo's trophy (his whole reason for finding him on the ground, turning to leave before stopping and performing his duties as a friend: taking a picture. Maybe he should buy Gavi a whole pack of frames.
You finally pulled away, face flushed and lips pinkish and swollen from the liplock. You kept your arms around Pablo, turning your face to hide in his shoulder. You spotted the golden statue on the floor and smiled as you moved to pick it up, stopped by his strong and unfaltering embrace.
"Your award, Pablo."
"You're my real prize of this evening."
"Ugh how corny." You laughed, finally freeing yourself to go and pick it up. You carried it before turning from Pablo to unlock your room door, timidly standing in the entryway.
"Do... you want to come inside?" You asked, cradling his trophy in your arms.
"Do you want me to come inside?" He asked, heart threatening to break his sternum. He had never thought of going so far so fast.
"I mean if you don't want to-"
"No I want to, preciosa. God I want- but I don't want to make you feel like you have to."
"You're not. I want you Pablo. All of you." You opened the door wider, inviting him in. "Dale, campeon."
~
You left Pablo on the bed while you went to slip out of your dress. As much as you wanted Pablo (in an immediate fashion), you couldn't risk stains or rips on such an expensive lended piece. You re-emerged from the bathroom in a black night gown, a satin slip that came just past your fingertips. Pablo had made himself comfortable, stripping his jacket and shoes, abandoning the bowtie and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. You walked out slowly, standing in front of him shyly.
"What do you think?" You asked, giving a little spin. He reached out a hand, pulling you down to the bed and seating you on his lap.
"I lied before," he said softly. "You weren't 'maybe the prettiest girl tonight'. You're the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. In every room and on every night." His hands found your hips and his lips found yours, and the flames were fanned. He moved with a fervor you had never experienced, like he couldn't get enough of the feel of your lips or the taste of your tongue. He bit down softly on your bottom lip, desperate to illicit every pretty sound he could from you. He nibbled gently, pulling with his teeth and then soothing with his tongue before reuniting it with yours. He gripped the flesh of your hips, and your hands leg his lower, encouraging him to find stability on the flesh of your ass.
"You're perfect." He said breathlessly, moving to kiss and nibble at your neck. You shifted on his lap, desperate for any friction to help douse the flames between your legs. He shifted the two of you so that you were straddling one of his thighs, allowing you rock yourself back and forth as he continued worshipping and lapping at your skin.
"Pablo, it's so good." You whined as he moved down to kiss the exposed tops of your breasts. He looked up at you, asking for permission to remove your nightgown, which you gave with quick enthusiasm. He grabbed at the bottom hem, lifting it over your head in one fluid motion before stopping. He stared at you, moving across your bare chest and down to your nude lace thong.
"Oh this won't do." He muttered while gripping your waist and flipping your positions so that you were laying on the mattress with him above you.
"What?" You asked while your arms moved to cover your chest. He removed them swiftly, licking his lips and giving each breast a kiss, making your nipples harden.
"I need to have you spread out underneath me so I can take in every gorgeous inch of you." He said before he trailed his lips down your entire torso.
"Can't believe someone who looks like you is all mine. I've wanted you for so long." He finished his sentence with a searing kiss to your lips.
"Just wanted you to see how much someone could love you. And I would still love you, even if you want to stop right now and never do this again." He said, pulling back slightly before you threaded your fingers through his hair and brought his mouth to your chest.
"No, don't wanna stop. I want you. I need you Pablo please." You whine out, and hoped he knew that you meant it in every possible way. He allowed his tongue to drag across your nipples before sucking one into his mouth, playing with the other as he watched for your reactions. His cock was straining against his boxers and dress pants, and he rutted against the mattress for any sort of relief.
"Pablo it's too good."
"Always want to be good for you, Doctora. Wanna give you the best."
He moved his hands to the waistband of your panties, moving them down and watching the resistance, seeing how big the wet patch was and how your thighs clenched for some sort of pleasure.
"Open up, pretty girl."
"Pablo, want you. Want you please."
"I'm right here, baby. All yours."
You grabbed on of his hands sucking two of his fingers in his mouth while keeping your eyes locked, tongue circling and his cock now rubbing up on the flesh of your thigh.
"Want you inside me. Please, Pablo."
He rubbed his two wet fingers up and down your slit, teasing and just listening to the way you reacted. The cool air heightened everything, and you could do nothing but squirm in place.
"Love the way you say my name, preciosa. Let me take care of you." He slipped a finger inside, and you both moaned in sync. You at the feeling of finally having Pablo pleasing you, and him at the wetness he encountered. He quickly put in another, lips going back to yours as if they were addictive. He leaned back, slipping out of his trousers and boxers when you put a hand on his chest.
"Pablo. I..."
"We can stop if you want." He said, already making a move to get up and redress despite his cock leaking.
"No. I want this. I want you. I just... promise me something?"
"Anything."
"Please don't leave me after we have sex."
He looked at your hurting eyes and felt his chest squeeze. He cupped your face, kissing your forehead. "I could never leave you, Doctora." Another chaste kiss, this time to the tip of your nose. "You don't have to worry. I'll always be with you. I promise." He brought you in and kissed you, lips slotting together and tongues dancing together as if they had years of practice.
"Always have to seal the promise with a kiss." He said playfully, and you looked away in embarrassment. He spread your legs and found a space between them, tilting your head with a finger under your chin.
"Look at me baby. I want to see that pretty face when I make you feel good. Wanna see how hot you are when you cum all over me. Make the cutest little mess." He said, spitting in his hand slightly and rubbing the length of his cock. You sat up on your forearms, watching the erotic sight as Pablo ran his tip up and down your slit.
"Pablo," you whined.
He lined himself up, lifting you by the back of the neck to kiss you as he pushed in, the stretch causing you to bite his bottom lip harder than expected (he kind of liked it). He stayed for a minute on his forearms above you, hoping that time would allow you to adjust and prevent him from busting on stroke three. He placed his arms beside your head, leaning down and resting his forehead on yours.
"I love you." He said, picking up his pace as he did so. Your whine was high pitched and loud, fueling Pablo's ego tremendously.
"I love you more." You retorted, moving your hips to spur him to go faster. He pulled out of your slowly once again, then re-sheathed himself with force. He was moving slow and taking his sweet time, savoring every delicious second of the evening.
"Not possible, angel." And then pulled all the way out before slamming back in. Pablo was forceful, shifting your body with every thrust. He kissed your lips and neck, purple springs blooming from each spot he touched. You loved the feeling. You belonged to him, body and soul, and you wanted everybody to know.
"Please, Pablo. Faster. I'm begging." You breathed out, and he could do nothing but oblige.
"That's my pretty girl, taking it so well. Feeling so fucking good wrapped around me. So wet and sucking me in. Fuck. You're so good for me."
You had decided to suck on Pablo's neck to prevent you from moaning your heart out to all of Paris. A large hickey was developing just above his collarbone with not one care towards its ability to be covered. You were feeling that familiar buildup in your stomach, and brought a hand down to play with your clit that was quickly swatted away.
"Gonna cum, baby? Let me spoil you. Let me take care of you." He said as he pressed his thumb to your clit and started rubbing circles into the sensitive bud. There was no more suppressing your moans as they emerged full force. It was perfect. Pablo was perfect, telling you how much he wanted and loved you while looking after your pleasure.
"Please don't stop Pablo I'm so so fucking close."
"Wouldn't dream of it." He said, and seconds later, his name was the only thing on your lips as you came, gripping onto his back and trailing your nails down, his toned back the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. He finished a minute after you, rolling over in exhaustion. You expected him to turn onto his side and ignore you like every other man you had slept with. Instead, he got you both under the comforter, laying down and bringing you to lay on his chest.
"You're so incredible, do you know that?" He asked, kissing your forehead gently.
"You're one to talk." There's giggles and comfort despite the lack of clothes. When the high dies down, you turn to his tired form, which is still smiling at you.
"What are you so smiley for?" You asked.
"I'm with the best person in the world. How can I not smile when I'm with you?"
You laid back on his chest, guilt and paranoia seeping in, obvious by the tension building in your form.
"I love you, Doctora. I love you, I love you, I love you. You are worth more than sex. And I don't love you just because you're hot. You complete me, in every possible way."
"I love you more, Pablo."
"As the medical professional, you should know that's not possible."
He released you from his grip to get shirts and underwear for the two of you to sleep in, still not used to Pablo + you + nudity. You laid back down, cuddled into Pablo's chest as you had for months now, and drifted off into the most relaxing sleep. You were in love with a boy. And he was hopelessly, desperately in love with you. And there was nothing else in the world that mattered in this moment except for the way you tangled together to feel safe. Before he could drift off, Pablo heard the ding of his phone. A photo from Pedri of the two of you in the hall.
[Pedri]: congrats on all your wins today hermano
~
The flight back to Barcelona was nerve-racking for you. You were anxious as to how your boss and peers would perceive your new relationship with Pablo, which he established right away.
"No 'what are we' bullshit'. You're my girlfriend, and that's only because I didn't have a ring on me to make you my fiancee."
His hand was laced through yours the entire walk through the terminal, so proud to show you off to the world as his. As you two boarded the flight, it was Anna who finally asked if something had happened in Paris.
"I asked her to be my girl and she said yes."
There was a round of cheering from those on the plane, and after a swift whatsapp message from Pedri, there were hundreds of messages in the groupchat, from congrats to jokes to utter disbelief. Neither of you looked at any of it. Pablo was too busy counting the stars he saw in your eyes, studying every feature on your face, sneaking in a kiss whenever he could. And you listened to him ramble, intoxicated by the sound of his voice, the melody bringing you tranquility. He was your peace. He was your everything.
"Ah, so you two will be needing these." Xavi said, placing the 'Relationship Disclosure' form and two pens in front of the both of you. "Gavi, don't distract her from her work."
"Hey! Shouldn't it be the other way around?"
"No. You're the distraction." You teased, earning Pablo's full attention and wrath.
"I can tell by the way you've been staring at me for two days."
"Oh Pablo, I've been staring at you much longer than that."
"I hope you never stop."
~
A/N: and there it is folks. Almost 8 months later, here is Just Pretend. There will be an epilogue to this at some point to show what happens with their relationship (and it will have better smut), but this is it for the main story. Please share any feedback you have in replies, reblogs, or in the ask box. Thank you so so much to everyone who has stuck by this story for so long. I love you all.
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billlydear · 2 years
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Touch starved Billy Hargrove ✨a concept✨
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HC - TOUCH STARVED BILLY HARGROVE
W.C 1680 - INBOX (please request !) - CREDIT TO GIF OWNER
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mmm not touch starved billy, love starved billy. he gets plenty of skin-on-skin. a backhand or a shove from his dad, a quick fuck in the backseat of his car, hell, why do you think he takes his shirt off to play basketball, a contact sport? he wants to feel touch, he's just never been given a kind one.
and that's where you come in :) from the very first date you're already shyly reaching for his hand, slipping your fingers between his over the vinyl table of the small diner you're eating at
you watch carefully for his reaction, and he's not really able to hide his shock, he kind of goes stiff. so you're worried you've overstepped, and you start to draw back with an awkward apology, but just before you can pull your hand away completely, he tightens his grip, and squeezes your hand, holding it in place.
“Don’t apologize.” Normally that would be said in a teasing, lighthearted tone. But instead his face is strangely intense, eyes shining under the low lights of the diner.
then it escalates from hand holding to a hug. He drops you off at your front step, and instead of just staying in the car, he walks you up. It’s a pretty cliched first kiss scene, you tell him you had a good time and he agrees with a dazzling smile. There’s a slow, heart-racing lean-in, hitched breath and an eager shine in your eyes, and then he kisses you so soft, you’re not even sure he’s there. He’s not really about special first kisses, preferring to tongue a girl behind the gym. But when your hand comes up to press gently, softly against his cheek, he knows he’s addicted to kindness, soaking it up like a sponge and letting the excess compel him to hold your waist.
he’s not handsy like he normally would be, he keeps his hands firmly planted there while you kiss. It’s soft, slow, sweet, and it feels like waking from a daydream as his pretty blue eyes flutter open to stare into yours.
“Goodnight, Billy.” You whisper, and he’s a goner.
there’s tenderness in your voice, your touch, your gaze, and he lays awake that night thinking about it. It warms him up, knowing that you’d treated him like you care. Maybe you do, maybe you dont, but the feeling is intoxicating, and he doesn’t feel as perpetually angry at the world that night
max notices a change after that. Neil shouts at him, tells him he’s good for nothing, weak, disappointing, and instead of slamming his door and blasting music, probably kicking the bed frame, he offers her a ride to the arcade.
"What?" / "A ride, dipshit, I'm going out and I'll drop you on the way."
and the most insane part, he doesn't even bitch at her in the car. she sits silently and so does he, and when she gets out, he says he'll get her at 8. no threats, no name-calling, just 'i'll pick you up at 8'.
when she gets in the car at 8:10, she's absolutely certain she'll be griped at for being late. but he backs out of the spot, and even asks her about the slap bracelet she'd won inside.
"You get that in there?'"/ "Yeah. I had enough tickets so..." / "What?"
She squints hard at his face while they're stopped at a light, and his own face scrunches in displeasure, "What is it?"
"Are you wearing chapstick?"
The light turns green, and he punches it hard, only remembering to slow down as he pulls his lips between his teeth to lick them. she doesn't ask again, but she spots a tube of it on the ground, strawberry flavored, and definitely not hers.
billy had taken you to the drive-in, and apparently it had fallen out of your pocket when you'd leaned over the center to kiss him. he brought it back to you the next day, knocking at your door and greeting your mother who surprisingly loved him. he wasn't really sure how to react to that, because no girl's mother has ever liked him before, but he's welcomed in and finds you in your room, folding laundry.
he spends the entire day with you, a saturday, just being with you. you teach him how to fold laundry your way, and he definitely teases you about the bras and underwear he finds. in retaliation you whack him with a pillow, and he pretends to be greatly injured after the attack, sprawled out over your bed with his tongue out in a cartoonish display of death
you straddle his waist, peering down at his minutely-fluttering eyelashes. you take his face in your hands, gently, sweetly, and turn it to face you, watching as his pretty blue eyes make a reappearance. he's staring at you, and he looks almost nervous, but he could easily push you off it he wanted to, and he doesn't, so you take that as a good sign.
you trace his features, fingers grazing over the tip of his nose and down through the crease of his chin, just below his lips. then beneath his eyes, along his cheekbones, and smoothing over his forehead. he watches you breathlessly the entire time, a thin layer of tears glossing over his eyes.
when you notice them you stop, nervous that you'd upset him. you ask him what's wrong, hovering over his face only inches away
"I love you." He murmurs, reaching up to cup your cheek.
it's breathless, it's passionate, and it's.. a little early. but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel it. he's just quicker to figure out when he loves someone 'cause he doesn't very often, so it's a new feeling that sticks out to him.
now that he's said it for the first time, watch out.
he's gonna say it 24/7, any opportunity. you hand him a chip? he leans over to bite it out of your hand and goes 'I love you'. he hands you a chip? when you reach for it he'll hold it out of your reach, wait 'till you look at him like wtf? and then say 'love you' with that shit-eating grin of his
he clings to you. his hand is always somewhere on your body, whether it be prying at your own and pulling it into his lap or laying around your shoulders, pressing your sides together
play. with. his. hair. seriously, scratch your nails through his hair, he'll purr like a kitten. brush it out right before his shower, give him a little head massage, that way you can mess up the curls and he'll just reform 'em. comb through it, braid it, put serums and products in it, anything as long as you're touching his scalp
i think he'd really appreciate forehead/cheek/nose kisses, of course he appreciates them on the lips too but it's different, casually intimate and sweet. he's addicted to kissing your cheek, he'll be walking beside you in the mall and yank you closer by where his arm is laid around your hip just to press his lips to your cheek
he kisses your forehead in bed, tugs you into his chest and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. he might not even lean back up, he might just fall asleep with his face pressed to yours
he's.. obsessed with kissing. like, your lips are constantly swollen. of course he's game for a good steamy makeout session but mostly it's just lazy, slow, soft, sweet kisses, just laying together and swapping spit and touching each other, your leg thrown over his, your foreheads bumping together, his hand on your stomach
speaking of, he'll sleep with his hand under your shirt most nights, either flat and warm against your back or your stomach. and if you ever sneak your hand up his shirt to scratch up his back, he shivers. fully body shivers.
he loves loves loves it when you hold him in your sleep, sometimes he stays awake while you drift off just to watch you get comfy and unconsciously snuggle into his warmth. The first time you do it is while you’re watching a movie on your couch and he misses the last half of the film because he’s just watching you sleep peacefully all snuggled into him
he’s not only grateful that you’re his safe space, but he’s amazed that he seems to be your own. he’s never had a safe space before, even when his mama was around Neil was too. so being with someone he loves without any fear or anxiety is very meaningful to him. It means that when you pass out on his shoulder at the drive-in or let him cart you around to parties just as long as he keeps his arm around you the entire time, he recognizes that you feel safe with him, and that means more to him than he’ll ever be able to express
it’s why he takes such good care of you, he doesn’t ever want to let you down or be someone who fails you. the movie’s too loud and you’re starting to wake? he doesn’t need to see the end of it, the two mcs probably get together. he’ll just drive quietly and slowly back home and let you snooze in the parking lot. party getting too wild? he’ll take you out into the backyard and sit on the porch swing with you, smoke a cig and blow it away from you, let your head fall onto his shoulder with his arm around your waist.
your touch grounds him. he feels safe, secure, loved, supported, happy, and content all at once when he’s touching you, even if he’s just knocking his foot into yours from under the lunch table.
Billy may get touched a lot, but not loved, so when you come into his life, a beacon of all things sweet, he’s going to bask in it, soaking up your love like a big sappy sponge and letting it heal his wounds
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hugmekenobi · 1 year
Text
MasterList
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Gif by @star-wars-is-life​ 
Hello folks! Welcome to my page! I like probably many of you are a lover of fictional characters and places, particularly if they involve the Star Wars universe! And, as well as reading, I have also delved into writing it and have been very grateful for the support my silly little stories have received and after a couple of questions about it (and quite right too cause it was a bit of a mess), I have put this masterlist together :). I hope to develop it more but for now I hope this works!
Rules: No minors allowed! 18+ only! I don’t write super explicit stuff but it can get quite spicy and heated so I just feel more comfortable with minors staying away
My Works
Hunter x femaleJedi!reader
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Gif by @clu-ven​ 
The Bad Batch Series:
Season 1 
Series Summary: You joined the Batch 8 months ago and everything was going well. But then, Order 66 happened and suddenly the galaxy around you changed. Now, not only do you need to be careful given your new ‘social status’, but you also need to navigate your feelings towards a certain Sergeant.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Midway Series Oneshots:
The Long Haul
Goes Both Ways
Wardrobe Change
Season 2 
Series Summary: Some time has passed since everything that happened at Kamino and you and the Batch are trying to figure out your place in the rapidly changing Imperial galaxy. And you’re having to do all this whilst figuring out where your relationship with Hunter fits into it.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Post S2 Oneshots:
Return to the Light
Next Steps
Season 3
Series Summary: Ever since Eriadu, Clone Force 99 had been a fractured squad. Months have passed but you're finally back with the Batch but Omega is still out there and you won't stop until you find her again.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Post S3 Oneshots:
Heal
Forever
Obi Wan Kenobi x femaleJedi!reader
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Gif by @anakin-skywalker​
Strength Series:
Series Summary: You’re estranged from the Jedi Order and have spent much of your life avoiding them. So, what happens when you have to assist Jedi Master and General Obi Wan Kenobi in battle and you’re forced to come back to Coruscant and work with him?
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Aftermath
589 notes · View notes
anjaelle · 1 year
Text
I Think She Knows
Pairing: Tangerine x Black!Reader Warnings: Drunk!Tangerine, Needy!Tangerine, Jealous!Tangerine, (Kinda Toxic Behavior) Word Count: 2.4K Summary: In which Tangie starts realizing things and absolutely does not have the bandwidth to deal with it. Because babygirl is bad at most things, and feelings are at the top of the list. a/n: Something something... I don't advocate for getting drunk and being weird at your not-girlfriend's house. Thanks!
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(gif source)
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When it fully hit him, it was like being mowed down by a 10-ton truck.
He felt like he couldn't breathe. The way his chest suddenly rose and fell made him made him question if his heart was attempting to escape his ribcage just to be closer to you.
You were talking about...something. You came over wearing a skin tight red dress and you carried your shoes in your hands as you tiredly strolled into his kitchen.
Actually, he remembered what you were talking about.
You mentioned how tired you were of having to talk to idiot men, but that stabbing them in the head for your efforts was almost worth the annoyance. Ordinarily he probably would've just laughed or made a smart ass comment about how lucky he was that he could be around you without the threat of violence. But you mentioned fighting, did a small spin in a circle, and did something akin to a silly jig to show how secure you felt in your dress.
He felt his thoughts halt in their tracks, and he suddenly couldn't remember his own birth name, let alone how to form a coherent sentence.
You didn't even seem to notice. Or maybe he hid it well. Because the conversation continued like he hadn't malfunctioned right in front of you. Maybe he was running on autopilot. That had to be it.
He swallowed hard, ran his fingers through his mess of untamed curls, and shakily came back into himself with the heavily realization that he was deeply in love with you.
Did you even know? Was it evident on his face like ostentatious neon lights in the middle of a darkened street? You kept talking about your day and he tried to listen intently. But his own brain wouldn't shut the fuck up.
When he realized that he broke the one rule you two made (which he introduced), he wanted to walk into the Atlantic Ocean with rocks in his pockets. He loved you. You weren't even dating. You were definitely seeing other people and he realized he slowly cut out every other person he'd ever fucked just to spend more time with you.
God. He'd dropped SO many other people. He could remember canceling potential hookups just because you wanted to hang out. Of fucking course he couldn't tell you this now. He'd look like a massive idiot.
"Are you alright? You seem off." You suddenly asked. Your beautiful eyes seemed to roam his face in genuine concern. Death would've been easier to face. In fact, death has notoriously been much easier for him to face.
He forced an assumedly easy grin on his face and shrugged, "I'm just listenin', babe."
You quirked a suspicious brow at him, but continued on with your story of your mission. Every so often he could feel himself staring at your mouth and the way your nose seemed to crinkle at certain memories of the night. He was suddenly hyperaware of how much he seemed to be study your every move. Had he been doing it this whole time?
On some level, he was confident that he could tell you exactly how many birthmarks you had on your entire body.
God what a sick fucking freak.
Suddenly his mouth started moving as if it wasn't connected to his own goddamn brain.
"You stayin' over tonight?"
He'd cut you off mid-sentence with the question. Naturally, you shot him a look that screamed contempt.
"...Maybe." You cut your eyes at him in a subtle challenge.
He felt like he didn't sound the least bit convincing, but he straightened his back to force an air of confidence that he obviously didn't have, "Well I need to know, because I might have plans. With a girl. Tonight."
He wasn't sure what he expected your reaction to be. Maybe he wanted you to be jealous. Or maybe he wanted you to try and convince him to change his mind. It was childish, but he wanted you to give him...something. Instead you raised your brows in surprise.
"Oh, really?" You grinned, "Is she cute?"
Oh come on. He thought.
"Yeah, a real stunner." Stunner? What the fuck was he saying? He couldn't stop himself, "Rebecca's tall, blonde, a model. Fuckin' sexy. So gorgeous."
He watched you slip your heels back on and adjust the top of your dress to hide your bra. He wanted to grab your beautiful face and kiss you. Instead he was spiraling and you didn't even notice.
"Blonde?" You seemed skeptical. Yes, good. "Since when do you go for Blondes?"
"Since always, actually. You think I tell you about everyone I've shagged?"
You shot another cutting glare in his direction, and he fought the childish giddiness rising in his chest. When you looked away from him to tap away on your phone, he tried to figure out what else he could say to get your attention again.
"You're in a particularly bitchy mood today." You suddenly said.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Maybe you should leave, then." He responded, much harsher than he intended to. He winced the minute the words left his mouth and you looked like you wanted to throw something at him.
"Since you wanna be a dick, fine. I'm having Jamesy pick me up."
You threw your jacket on and started tapping on your phone again, which irritated him to no end.
"Jamesy?" He spat, "Who the hell is Jamesy?"
"You think I tell you about everyone I've shagged?" You threw back at him in an almost perfect accent. He deserved it. But he started to panic as you headed towards the door.
"Well fine." He countered, though it sounded akin to a whine, "Stephanie's probably on her way, anyway. I don't want to watch you two fight over me or somethin'."
"Nobody's trying to fight over you, shut up." You mumbled, shoving your phone in your pocket. You took a second to pull the door open, but hesitated, "And also who's Stephanie?"
"The model."
"You said her name was Rebecca."
He stumbled over his words but finally came up with, "I--it's...You just have to be right all the time, don't you?"
He caught the way your mouth twitched in an attempt to fight a laugh, and he really wanted to grab you by the waist and pull you back into his apartment. But your phone dinged again, and you pulled it out of your pocket, "Look, when you're done throwing this little temper tantrum, and you figure out what your problem is, text me. Otherwise, sort your shit out."
Tangerine was having a terrible night. His face sat in a permanent frown as he stared into the fake embers of his electric fireplace and nursed a mason jar of vodka. You were out there getting railed by some prick named James who's too fuckin' old to still be going by Jamesy. And you probably weren't even thinking about him and how he's absolutely piping a real person named Bethany. Stephanie. Rebecca.
♫ I wish, I could just make you turn around Turn around and see me cry There's so much I need to say to you so many reasons why You're the only one who really knew me at all♫
He'd lost track of how many times Phil Collins' miserable pleading played on a loop through his speakers. He felt like a goddamn loser. He scrolled through your Instagram noting that you truly had the prettiest smile he'd ever seen. And you were so funny. Maybe the funniest person he knew. Even the emojis you used were cute.
He wanted to jump in front of a train.
"'Maybe you should leave then' you fuckin' idiot." He mumbled pitifully to himself. "What if I just like...went to her house? What if that guy is there? What if she doesn't answer? What if she tells me to fuck off? What if I tell her and she never speaks to me again?"
He stared at his phone sending and unsending his texts to you over and over, trying to figure out what to say. Or if you'd even read it. Suddenly his phone vibrated and a text from you popped up:
You've sent and unsent me like 9 messages. What the fuck do you want?
It took him 8 minutes to find an Uber to your place and 20 minutes to get there. Was he drunk and irrational? Maybe. But goddamn it, you were his woman.
You just didn't know it yet.
When he got to your floor, he started knocking incessantly on your door.
"Babe," he whined, drunkenly, "darling, are you still mad at me? I'm sorry." When he pressed his damp forehead to the cool metal door of your apartment, he didn't even realize how much he was sweating, "I know I said I was fucking that model. Um. Sabrina! Rhonda? Whatever the hell. But I lied. I'm a filthy fuckin' liar."
He pressed his ear to the door, but he didn't hear anything through the thick metal.
"Please don't fuck that James prick--I'm not callin' him Jamesy. I reckon the man is nearly 40, BARE MINIMUM!" He pressed his palm to the door and called your name again, waiting for you to open it.
When you didn't, he slid down to the floor and cradled the half empty mason jar to his chest.
"So take a look at me now, there's just an empty spaaaace. And there's nothin' left here to remind me. Just the memory of your faaaaace. I'm not leaving 'til you talk to me!"
He felt the back of his head thud against the door but he was too wasted to really feel it. He'd definitely feel it come morning, for sure. His eyes drifted closed as his mind started to wander. Maybe you were asleep after being fucked into the middle of next week. Maybe the guy was telling you to ignore his desperate pleas for attention. He wanted to throw up everywhere.
"Fuckin' Jamesy." He mumbled, crossing his arms in childish disappointment.
The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and you stumbled out of the door with another woman, giggling uncontrollably. You both held bags of fast food in your arms and it was clear you'd had something to drink as well. The minute you caught a glimpse of him sitting slouched in front of your door, he noticed you exchanging looks with the red headed woman by your side.
"Tangerine, what are you doing here?" You carefully asked, clocking the booze in his lap.
"Nevermind that," he slurred, stupidly, "where's Jamesy?"
The tall, slender red-headed woman raised a hand and waved, "Hi, I'm Jamesy. Do we, like, know each other? Or?"
Tangerine groaned and rested his head against the door again, "Ugh! Jamesy's a lass? How the shit am I supposed to compete with that?"
The woman turned to you with a curious look on her face, "What is he talking about?"
"I don't know. Can you hold this please?" You handed the bag of White Castle to your friend and approached the sad, drunk assassin sitting on the floor outside of your apartment. He looked pitiful. When you brushed his curls from his forehead, you noticed that he was sweating vodka. "Okay, sweetness, you need to get up."
When he looked at you, and saw the concern on your face, he gently touched your cheek and frowned, "You're so pretty, baby. You're the prettiest person I've ever seen in my whole entire life."
"You're pretty, too. But you really need to get up. And you're heavy as fuck, so I need you to help me out here."
"Okay," he nodded sharply, shoving the jar of vodka into his leather jacket pocket. And it surprisingly fit. You didn't question it further. You took a step back and held your arms out in case he lost his balance as he rose to his feet.
It was like watching a 5'11 baby deer.
He leaned against the door, trying to keep his balance, as you grabbed your share of the food from your friend and kissed her goodbye as she left for her Uber.
"What kind of girl is named Jamesy?" Tangerine muttered, as you attempted to unlock the door.
You sighed heavily, "Her name is Siobhan James. But I couldn't pronounce Siobhan when we were little, so I called her Jamesy and it stuck."
"That's so cute. I reckon you were a cute kid." He mumbled, resting his damp head on your shoulder. "You're a cute grown-up. We'd make cute kids."
"Yes, sweetness. We would. And also you're soggy."
"Mhmm." He kissed the shoulder that was covered in his sweat and mumbled, "I'm so sorry I was so, so mean to you, angel face. I was just being a massive dickhead."
"Yeah, you were." You agreed, giving up on trying to unlock the door while he leaned onto you.
"I--I just love you a whole fuckin' lot and I don't know how to deal with that shit. Because, like, you could have anyone you want. So why would you want me, you know?" He grumbled.
"There are a lot of reasons why I want you, Tangerine. You never have to feel insecure about that. I'm just...confused. You decided that the answer to this was to make me mad?" You scratched his scalp, "Does that make sense to you?"
"I wanted you to tell me that you didn't want me to see other people."
"Why would I tell you that, if that's what you want?" You asked, sincerely, "I stopped seeing other people because I love just spending time with you--"
"Hang on. You stopped seeing other people? Why didn't you tell me?"
"You never asked." You finally managed to unlock the door, and you both stumbled over the threshold.
"Here I was thinking you were getting pounded by lumberjack-built twats named Jamesy. I was in my apartment crying to Phil Collins for nothing?"
"I guess so." You tossed your keys on the kitchen island as he stumbled to the couch and face-planted into the cushions. By the time you showered and changed, he'd fallen into a deep sleep beside the bottle of water and advil tablets you placed out for him.
"And for the record..." you kissed him on top of his head and turned the lights out, "I love you, too. But you probably won't remember this. So we'll revisit it tomorrow."
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rivnedell · 2 months
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50 nsfw questions for Joel Miller
Hey there, again ✨ Ok, I love this list and I want to write those for.. So many people now 🫠
Have fun with our dear survival man, he really needs some good time..
Also please excuse if there're mistakes, english is not my first language.
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Gifs by @manny-jacinto
18+ MDI
1. Biggest Turn-On
Admiring you when you dress up in the morning, spooning you in the few lazy mornings you're both granted. Seeing you lingering in the house, just wearing one of his shirts, underwear or not. 
2. Biggest Turn-off
Lies. Do not lie to him. He's a survivor and he doesn't need people who would abuse his trust in his life.
3. Quickest way to get horny
Lingering gazes as you walk into him through your kitchen, leaning your body into him while kissing him, and jumping on the countertop, wrapping your legs around his waist. That would certainly lead to a quickie, both keeping your clothes on, or a long torrid night.
4. Top 3 places to be touched
Joel is a sucker for gentle touches and tickling while he sleeps. He loves when you travel your fingers through his dark, grayish hair, helping him soothe and calm from what he has seen outside during the day. Number two would be the small of his back and his ass, grabbed when he pounds into you.. And number three would be his gorgeous thighs, more precisely the groin. No need to tell you how much he craves you for kisses down there.
5. Do you like the idea of a threesome or moresome ?
Probably not. Joel is possessive and intense at love. He would never share you, and you would never accept another woman to own him as he lets you claim him as yours, don't you Honey ?
6. Sex or Masturbation ?
Oh both. That man is a passionate god surviving through hell. He needs to indulge, and to fuck. He needs you. All the time. He needs those moments with you, either tenderness, comforting and listening. But gods he needs good sex. And he would absolutely pleasure himself thinking of you if you've been far away from for too long.. Even for a few days. The man would miss you as soon as you're not in his sight.
7. Spit or Swallow ?
Girl. He wouldn't ask you. You just gotta swallow, ‘til the last drop.
“Look at you.. Such a good girl for me, aren't you ? That's it.. Swallow it for me, all of it,”
8. Rough or Romantic sex ?
Both. Joel adores you when you take care of him. And you would pretty much be the only one in this scorched world he would return that care to. He loves your tender and soft nights, full of caresses and long, wet kissing, but he's is a wild man, seeking, and needing roughness and wilderness.
9. Loud or quiet partners ?
You better be loud and significant to how he makes you feel.. But Joel is anyway going to make you scream, whether you're loud or not.
10. How much foreplay ?
Sometimes there is no foreplay. If Joel needs you right away as he sees you, he will take what's his for sure, wasting no time. But he is also known to be an exceptional lover. Making love to you, amusing and pleasing you for hours, watching you coming over and over on his fingers, or on his lips, would absolutely content him and make him hard as hell too.. Let's be honest.
11. How much teasing does he like ?
He likes it very much, but to a certain point. You better manage the man or he will manage you, and ravage you. He's very fond of public teasing, like discreet side eyeing while Tommy or the others are around, stolen kisses at the back of house while no one is watching. That is good teasing to him, a promise that a great time is awaiting for him at night.
12. Hooks up or only partners ?
After Sarah's mother he had multiple hooks up, but since he's with you he wants to be only yours, and of course you should never betray him.
13. How much kissing during sex ?
He simply cannot resist your lips Honey. Most part of the time he could cum while kissing you actually.
14. Favorite place to have sex ?
Bedroom, kitchen (he loves to take you right before you have breakfast, still dizzy from sleep, not even dressed up, probably wearing one of his check shirts, barely covering your intimacy and your breasts)..
15. Would he have sex in public ?
That's something you could ask him, he would probably be turned-on by the getting-caught thing, but since Austin is not a very safe place anymore, he would prefer to make love to you where he feels the safest.
16. Last place he had sex?
His truck, both of you on the driver's seat..
17. Where would he most like to have sex?
His bedroom, or his living room, on the couch after enjoying a nice meal with you.
18. Spontaneous sex or does he need to be in the mood?
Joel is a busy man, worried about everything and everyone to be safe. So you probably will have to hold his face in your hands as he talks about what incautious move Tommy did again today, and crash your lips on his to stop him speaking. That would immediately soothe him and he would take you to his lap, letting you straddle him, a promise of, finally, a nice and intense moment.
19. Would he go for a hookup at a stranger's house?
Before you, yes. Surviving is hard, so he needed to indulge sometimes without any romance involved.
20. Biggest kink?
Don't ask to have mercy if you're wearing a mini-skirt, or a nice summer dress that stops above your knees. He loves those, and above all he loves to fuck you while you keep them on, from the back against a wall.. Pulling your hair back so he can kiss you, his other hand resting on your throat. He would also be likely to dive half of a finger or two too into your mouth while you both are coming. And on top of this.. He would become mad if you let him call you his Babygirl, looking at you sucking those thick digits as cum inside of you.
21. Is he ok with name-calling?
Sometimes. If you've been very taunting in public with him he shall give you what you deserve once at home, and call you once or two.
22. Would he do BDSM?
Probably not. That's not what he really is into..
23. Would he prefer to tie you up or be tied up?
It would grow as a kink for both you for Joel to take you while.. He has your wrists tied behind your back, naked and exposed before him on his bed, at his mercy to fuck as roughly he wants. And he would lose his mind knowing you couldn't do anything but.. Take him. On the other side, Joel would totally let you tie his wrists, also behind his back while you're sitting on his lap, or giving him a nice time. Joel would curl his chest, hovering your head busy to pleasure him, unable to grasp furiously at your hair, nor to guide you to take him deeper.. And that would frustrate him to the utmost, but excite and amuse him for sure.
"Do not dare to think I will let you do this every time, you naughty girl,"
24. Does he like orgasm denial?
He likes you to play with him, but be careful. The man is wild and probably will deny your orgasm at least twice the time you did for him.
25. Does he like overstimulation?
He won't let you play with him too long after he comes, but.. He would love to play with you and make you cum multiple times in a row, holding your thighs tight, curled on his shoulders while he plays unmercifully with you.
26. Does he like pain being involved?
There's enough suffering in his daily life for having painful moments in his bed. The maximum he would do to you would be spanking you.
27. Does he like dirty talk?
Goodness, YES he does. Joel is talker in bed, he just can't help whispering, moaning how much he likes you for being so good to him, so good to fuck and just for him to possess.
28. Does he own sex toys? How many?
He does own a cockring, the one you offered him.. And he loves it to a point that he maybe has used it alone, when thinking of you, desperately missing you.
29. What does he masturbate to?
Memories of you mostly. Of your body framed between the wall of the shower, and him, both naked. And oh, he's terribly demanding when things start to get spicy on the phone, even just through texting. He would even read again your spicy conversations if you're not available, shamefully watching those evocative pictures you have sent him.
30. Multiple rounds or will he settle for one orgasm ?
If his work has spared him some strength, he would probably ravage you so roughly and give in multiple times.. In a row.
31. Does he enjoy giving oral?
Sometimes he would spend an entire night just giving you pleasure Honey, that's what we would call Joel's special. He would switch between being tender, slow, loving and going fast and wild, unmercifully ravaging your bundle of nerves, admirative of the mess on the bed sheets he would be responsible for.
32. Does he prefer giving or receiving oral?
He likes both. Although, he likes his babygirl to take care of him after a long day..
33. What makes him orgasm the fastest ?
Either watching you sucking him, yours eyes dove in his or when you're crying his name as he fucks you ferociously into the matress..
34. Does he like/do anal/pegging?
Nope.
35. Favorite position?
The lazy dog, and missionary are equal tops to him. Being able to ravage you, pounding his hips against you, his burning body laying on your back, pulling your hair and your head back so he can kiss you roughly, desperate to fuck you as deeply as he can.. And of course just being on you, facing you, or both of your faces buried in each others’ neck, sweaty, undone, groaning and screaming your names when reaching the Stars.
36. Does he use protection?
Joel is a careful man and would always ask to use it. Although he would crave to feel you raw around him.. And just make one with you.
37. Does he masturbate with clothes on ?
Yes he does when he thinks of you and misses you so much when you're gone.
38. How does he prefer his partner's hair/grooming?
It's survival here in Austin, so he would absolutely not mind taking you roughly after both of your work days, bodies still sweaty and tired. 
39. What does he wear to bed?
Nothing, so his Babygirl can enjoy his scared body right against her, hold him, tickle his hair and kissing him everywhere.
40. What does he like his partner to wear?
Sexy black lingerie would have him hard the second he sees you in it. He would never resist you if you would come to him dressed up like that. He either would back you up against a wall or immediately carry you to his bed, but he would have you right away, sometimes about to rip your underwear in parts.. But he would never do without asking you. He knows about much you like those.
41. Does he like his balls played with?
That's one of his favorite things his babygirl would do to him. That would absolutely drive him crazy if you do so.. While you're giving his manhood a great time.
42. What is his sexuality?
Joel loves women and their bodies. He would kill to be able to enjoy your's all the time Honey. Unless he already had..
43. Does he have extreme or unusual kinks?
Fucking you in the back of his truck, from the back while you're bending before him, on your knees between the seats and gripping at the dashboard. The risk to be seen while fucking you wild drives him mad, Honey. Be aware of this if he offers you a drive.
44. How often does he masturbate ?
As soon as he can, when or if he's not too exhausted. Though he might need a good time to help him fall asleep.
45. Favorite toy?
His.. Member. He's a proud man. Proud of the thickness and the length, and proud of how far it sends you every time.
46. Does he like roleplay?
Yes, God yes. You had dragged him down into this, and he discovered himself in a way he wouldn't have thought of.
47. Any fetishes?
Hair pulling. Oh Lord you better be ready when Joel's about to cum because his strong hands will grasp and pull your hair while his lips are on your mouth, groaning as he pounds furiously into you.. While being on you, or behind you..
48. Aftercare ?
Joel is a kind heart. So even after an exceptionally intense, savage moment with him, he would wait for your body to ease, for you to recover your breath, littering the sweaty skin of your neck with wet and sloppy kisses.
“You okay Babygirl ? Was it good ?”
49. Does he ever go comando ?
If he's alone only with you yes Honey he would, but you would have to be asked to be dressed the same as him, at least.
50. Phone sex?
Oh definitely if he is given some spare time to call you. He would firstly simply be sexting with you, but as time goes on and you get along with each other.. He would beg for you to scream his name on the phone and to not give a fuck about your neighbors. He wants (needs) to hear you crying and screaming to the world you are his.
"Say my name, Babygirl, scream it !"
~
Yes I was.. Inspired. He is to blame.. I really hope I got him right, feel free to tell me what you thought ! 🫶
Thank you so much for reading ! ✨
Tagging : @evolnoomym @thegreatwicked @crowandmousewritingco @the-mandawhor1an
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scoobydoodean · 4 months
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CASTIEL I'm sorry, Dean, but I warned you not to put that thing back inside him. DEAN What was I supposed to do? Let T-1000 walk around, hope he doesn't open fire? CASTIEL Let me tell you what his soul felt like when I touched it. Like it had been skinned alive, Dean. If you wanted to kill your brother, you should have done it outright.
Another scene people use to villainize Dean for putting Sam's soul back in his body—a kind of meta I have already criticized several times. The context of this scene gets really lost in the weeds when it gets giffed. Most obviously when you actually watch the scene, it's part of a larger conversation about whether or not Sam (who's been unconscious for 10 days) is even going to wake up. Immediately prior to this bit of dialogue that always gets giffed:
DEAN Is he ever gonna wake up? CASTIEL I'm not a human doctor, Dean. DEAN Could you take a guess? CASTIEL Okay. Probably not. DEAN Oh, well, don't sugarcoat it.
Dean asking Cas questions ("Will he wake up?") that Cas doesn't have the answers to is also a thing Cas hates. He likes to avoid questions he doesn't have the answers to by flying off when he can (ex: 5.01, 6.03) or not showing up in the first place (ex: 6.03, 6.06). And all those moments this season have been in regards to questions about Sam's soul... because it's a sore subject in a way we can only realize retroactively after finishing 6.20 "The Man Who Would Be King" where we find out Cas is the reason Sam came back wrong to begin with.
In this scene, Cas thinks Sam isn't going to wake up, and he just felt his soul and saw what a terrible state it's in, and secretly, he sees this as his fault. If Cas hadn't fucked up, Sam's soul, just like his body, would have been back to the earthly realm within a week of Sam going to hell. Because he fucked up and missed something that probably feels painfully obvious in hindsight, Sam's soul spent a year in hell being "skinned alive" as Cas describes, while his body walked around fucking everyone around him over—including Dean who this was supposed to be for. It's his fault that Sam came back soulless. It's his fault that while soulless, Sam hurt people and used Dean and nearly killed Bobby. It's his fault that Dean got so desperate he put Sam's soul back in. It's his fault that Sam's soul is damaged like this because he's the one who accidentally left it behind (and making what in hindsight must feel like such an obvious mistake must be infuriating).
Cas was able to avoid the soulless Sam problem as long as Cas wasn't around. From afar, he could just say "good enough" to have Sam's body around even though he knew Sam was off and was secretly bothered by his behavior (6.06, 6.10). By putting Sam's soul back in his body, Dean unwittingly made the reminder of Cas's mistake unavoidable.
Cas wanted to bring Sam back to make Dean happy, but he fucked it up, and Dean faced the fallout and (tried to) clean up the mess, which probably stings. In the process, Dean was in danger and (by bargaining with Death) put himself in further danger—the number one thing Cas has been trying to avoid since watching Dean rake leaves— which probably stings. Dean asked Cas to touch Sam's soul and then Cas had to directly feel what his careless mistake meant Sam suffered through which definitely stings. And there isn't even a consolation prize here of "well at least I got his body out" anymore because (unwittingly) Dean is telling him “well your fuck up consolation prize wasn’t good enough”. Cas wants to convince himself soulless Sam could have been enough and HE isn’t the one that created Frankenstein’s Monster—Dean did—but Cas knows that isn’t true deep down. In his head, he ultimately created this situation and this incongruous Sam and all the fallout is on him. Sam wakes up and prays to him and Cas immediately shows up with no ulterior motives like an ancient weapons (such as in 6.03 or 6.06 or 6.10). He shows up purely because Sam is awake and alive and his soul is in his body and he's OKAY despite all the damage resulting from Cas's major fuck up and it's such a relief Cas forgets all the awkward interactions they had in season 5 and tries to hug him.
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prettyyoungandbored · 3 months
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See You Again - Charlie Dalton
Pairing: Adult!Charlie Dalton x Fem!Pregnant!Reader
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NOT MY GIF
“What do you want for dinner tonight?” Charlie asked, rubbing his wife’s back.
“Everything that is terrible for me,” she replied with a tired sigh, putting one hand on her belly. “Probably a bad idea bringing me into the grocery store.”
“We’re almost done with the list,” he told her. “Besides, we’ll be here for a week. We can always come back if you need other stuff.”
They decided to spend the week at his parent’s vacation home in Vermont. Y/N had been itching to get away from the city but considering she was four months pregnant, Charlie didn’t feel like going too far.
“How about we do some roast chicken thighs tonight?” she suggested. “It’s easy enough.“
“Perfect.” He kissed her cheek.
“Ok, so for that we’ll need some chicken thighs, rosemary-.”
“Charlie?”
Charlie looked away from Y/N, his smile falling. His blood ran cold at the figure standing in front of him.
Mr. Perry.
The last he saw Neil’s father was at Neil’s funeral. That was a little over 10 years ago, yet the man hadn’t aged all that much.
In all the times Charlie’s returned to Vermont since being kicked out of Welton, he managed to avoid seeing the Perry’s. There was the scare when his mother invited them to his and Y/N’s wedding, but they never responded nor showed up.
Y/N’s shifted from Charlie and the old man, wondering if she should stay behind Charlie and protect their baby.
“Mr. Perry,” Charlie spoke up, trying to swallow the lump in the throat.
Y/N’s eyes widened in realization and she wondered if she should step in for Charlie’s sake.
Meanwhile, Charlie saw Mr. Perry’s eyes fall to Y/N’s stomach. Charlie tightened his jaw, fists clenched.
“Congratulations…son,” the old man said with a nod.
Once the old man turned away, Y/N sighed in relief. “Let’s just pay and go, ok?”
Charlie wasn’t going to argue.
==================================
Following by a silent car ride home, Y/N spoke up the moment they walked inside the vacation home.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but we’re going to,” she said.
“Honey-.”
“Non-negotiable, Charlie.”
His jaw tightened. “Fine. Alright. He has no right to show his face to me. Not after what he did. And the way he looked at your stomach…like…who am I to be a father, right? Like he…he…”
“Charlie-.”
“Neil should be here, dammit! He should be here and the fact his asshole of father is still walking around after what he did! After what he caused!”
Tears streamed violently down his face. Y/N reached out to him, but he stepped back. He turned around and walked outside, slamming the door.
Y/N exhaled softly, guilty tears filling her eyes. She just wanted to talk with him about it, but she knew she should have known better.
As she sat down on the couch, she pretended to ignore the sound of the car driving off.
==============================
Charlie closed the car door and made his way up the hill, hands buried in his jacket pocket. He walked across the cemetery, glancing at the names until he saw the one he needed to see.
And then he spotted it, his heart dropping to his stomach.
NEIL ROBERT PERRY
NOVEMBER 10, 1943 - DECEMBER 15, 1959.
He’d avoided coming here long enough. He’d sworn after the funeral he wouldn’t go here, already traumatized by the fact his best friend was in a casket.
Hot tears strolled down his face, as he lowered his head.
“I’m sorry I haven’t come out here,” he spoke up. “I would say it’s not for a lack of trying, but…”
He shook his head. “You know, I never forgave myself for not stopping your dad. I thought if maybe I intervened or actually did something, I could’ve…you know. I promised myself that next time I’d see him, I’d give him a piece of mind. Tell him what I should’ve told him at the funeral. Yet the second I see the son of a bitch in the grocery store, I choke.”
He lowered his head, a tear rolling down his cheek and hitting the headstone.
“I’m gonna be a dad, Neil,” he continued. “How can I protect my kid when I couldn’t protect you?”
The silence that fell was a reminder that Neil could not respond. He couldn’t tell Charlie what he needed to hear. He couldn’t tell him that things would be ok.
And he never would.
Charlie wiped his tears and sniffled. “I miss you, Neil.”
===================================
When Charlie returned to the house, he hung his jacket and slid off his shoes. Figuring Y/N was probably asleep, he quietly made his way up the stairs into the master bedroom.
There, he found Y/N lying awake in bed, the soft glow from the television reflecting on her.
She propped herself up when she saw him walk in. “Charlie, I’m sorry I-.”
“No, no don’t apologize,” he said, crawling into bed beside her. “I’m sorry I screamed and ran off like that.”
“Oh, sweetheart, it’s ok. You were shaken up and I-.”
“No, Y/N, it’s not ok. There’s no justification for it.” He grabbed her hand, kissing her open palm. “I’m sorry and I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Y/N went to turn off the TV when Charlie asked, “Can we keep it on a bit longer?”
“Of course.”
She snuggled into him, as he threw an arm around her shoulders.
Not a moment passed by when Y/N broke the silence and returned to the subject. “Where did you go?”
Charlie sighed, wishing to avoid it but knowing he needed to face it one way or another.
“I went to Neil’s grave,” he answered.
She straightened up her posture, mouth hung open slightly. “You actually went?”
“I didn’t really know where else to go. Plus, I figured it was time.”
He wanted to end the conversation there, but she had that look he knew all too well. It was the kind of look that begged him to keep talking about it.
“It was strange,” he continued. “The idea of talking at a headstone, knowing that’s the only way I can talk to him.”
His eyes fell to her stomach. “You know what kills me the most? The way Mr. Perry looked at me after he saw your stomach, like I had the audacity to become a father.”
“He knows you’ll be better than he was and that’s what kills him,” she said.
He glanced back up at her. “You think so?”
“The fact you’re opening up about it means you care enough not to repeat the mistakes you’ve seen others make,” she said. “I know you’ll be a better father than Mr. Perry and your dad ever was.”
His hand met her stomach. She placed a hand over his.
“I promise I’m gonna do my best,” he said.
He used his other hand to take a strand of Y/N’s hair, tucking it behind her ears. “I’m sorry I yelled and walked out on you. You never deserved that.”
“I’m sorry I pushed you to talk about it. I should’ve let you had a moment to process it.”
“You were trying to help.”
“I could’ve gone about it better though.”
“How about we leave it at we’re both sorry and we focus on enjoying each other’s company during the trip?” he suggested gently.
She smiled in agreement. “Works for me.”
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raccoonbatz · 1 year
Text
Can I tell you a secret?
[Robbie Shapiro x F!Reader]
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A/N: Hi! This fic is inspired by the gif above :) I've only seen a handfull robbie fanfics and I am still completely in love with that man so I wanted to write one myself :) oh and english isn't my first language! so sorry if some words are weird lol
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚. ───
Summary: Robbie finally confessing his feelings for the girl he's been in love with for the past months.
Warnings: None, just extreme fluff.
It was the big night, the cow-wow dance was tonight and Y/n was pretty excited. It was her first schoolevent at Hollywood Arts.
"Earth to Y/n?" Jade said as they walked towards the school. In the 5 months that y/n attended HA Jade became her closest friend. Sure, she can be bit mean but for some reason she took y/n under her wing and since then they kinda became inseperable.
"Sorry, I'm just kinda nervous I guess?" Y/n said as she fixed the bowties in her ponytails.
"Nervous? for what? Sinjin in a hula?" Jade snickered
"No- no, not that." Y/n chuckled. "Even tho it is something I should avoid." She said.
"For what are u nervous then?" Jade asked once again. They finally arrived at the school and everything was very well decorated.
"I- eh-" Y/n stuttered but before she could finish her sentence, someone yelled her name.
"Y/n! Y/n!" She heard a familliar voice yell. She turned around and locked eyes with the cute curly haired boy. She smiled, but her smile faded quickly as she saw that he was with an unfamiliar face. Jade saw her smile fade.
"Ur finally here!" He said as he approched her.
"Yea, uh- we had some stuff we still had to fix-" She said but he interupted her.
"This is Gabriela, my date!" He said proudly and smiled. Gabriela looked up and gave Y/n and Jade a small smile.
"Hey" She said, a bit cold.
Y/n gave a weak smile and looked back at Jade, who was just staring with an angry look on her face.
Robbie didn't really knew what was going on as he looked at the girls confused.
"Well.. Okay, Im going to get something to drink for Gabriela, u guys want something?" He asked a bit hesitant.
"Yea s-" Y/n said but was interupted by Jade.
"We can get it ourselves." She said annoyed. Robbie shrugged and took Gabriela's arm as he wandered off with her. As they walked off Beck arrived, sneaking an arm around Jade's waist.
"Hey you guys, what just happend?" He asked as he took a sip of his drink.
"Robbie happend." Jade said annoyed as she took the drink from becks hand and took a sip herself.
"It's fine Jade, Really.." Y/n said a bit sad.
"No, it's not okay." Jade said and looked at Beck.
"We got work to do." Jade said and Beck just nodded.
"No, Jade, please. It's fi-" Y/n tried to say, but before she could finish her sentence Jade and Beck were already on their way. Y/n sighed as she walked towards the drink booth and took a cup of whatever. The first big event at her new school and it was already a shitshow.
"Hey y/n/n." She heard from behind her. She looked around and saw Andre and Tori walking up to her.
"Hey guys." Y/n said a bit devistated.
"What's wrong?" Andre asked a bit worried.
"I don't really know, I'm feeling all these things that I didn't knew existed until now." Y/n said as she took a sip of her drink.
"U wanna talk about it?" Tori offered.
"Not really, sorry." Y/n said and gave a weak smile. "Thanks tho." She added.
"It's no problem." Andre said as he looked at the time.
"Shit, we have to go on in like 10 minutes-" Andre said worried and Tori looked up.
"Sorry y/n, we gotta prepare for the show. But after that, we're going to hang and make the best out of tonight. Okay?" Tori said and y/n nodded.
"Thanks guys" Y/n said a bit happier and hugged them both.
"Imma cheer u guys on the whole show, u know that right?" Y/n chuckled and they nodded.
"You better!" Andre said as they walked away. Y/n was alone, again. Jade and beck were nowhere to be found, Robbie was probably dancing with that girl of his and cat? Cat was also nowhere to be found. Y/n decided to sit on one of the picnic tables in the corner of the parkinglot, still sipping her drink. Everyone was having fun time, why couldn't she?
In the meantime Robbie was being harassed by Jade.
"What did u do, shapiro?" Jade asked angrily as she grabbed the collar of his button-up.
"I don't know! What did I do?" Robbie asked confused, looking pannicked back at Beck.
"I have no clue my friend, but u better fix it now." Beck said, trying not to intervine with what going on.
"Jade- please. Tell me what I did wrong so I can f-fix it, please?" Robbie asked and Jade loosend her grip.
"You hurted Y/n, stop playing dumb." She said annoyed as she let him go.
"How- You know I would never ever hurt her on purpose!" He said, still a bit panicked.
"Did I hurt her..?" He added, now a bit worried.
"Are you fucking blind?" She basically screamed.
"I mean, kinda? I have pretty strong gla-" Robbie said but got interupted by Jade.
"She likes you!" Jade said while facepalming. Robbie's eyes wident.
"She didn't even have to tell me and I already knew by the way she acts around you. How can you be so incredibly dumb?" Jade added and sighed.
"Where is she?" Robbie asked in a hurry.
"I don't know, probably around here somewh-" Jade couldn't even finish her sentence or Robbie was already gone. Jade looked at Beck who was still just standing there.
"Let's get something to drink-" Jade said.
"Yea, good idea." Beck added as they walked away.
Y/n was still sitting on top of the picnic table, listening to the music. Her feet were dangeling off the side.
"There you are-" She heard a familiar voice say.
"Oh, hey Robs." She said without looking up.
Robbie sat down next to her and gave her a cup with something to drink. She took the drink from his hands and looked up.
"Thanks-" She said but looked confused.
"Where is ur date?" She added and looked confused. Robbie chuckled.
"I don't know, haven't seen her all night." He said as he placed down his drink next to him.
"I have a small feeling that we gotta talk" He said as he turned his head towards her. Y/n felt her cheeks heat up a bit.
"Okay- I don't know what Jade told u-" She started and looked down again but he interupted her.
"Look, Y/n," He paused for a second. The look on his face gave away that he was struggeling to find the right words. Y/n got a bit anxious, because most of the times when people are looking for the right words it's not positive.
"Can I tell you a secret?" He finally said and smiled a bit.
'Sure" Y/n said, still looking at the ground.
Robbie got close to her ear, as if he wanted to whisper something but instead he stopped, slowly raised his hand and slowly turned her head with his finger and gave her a soft, sweet kiss. She was taken a bit back at first. Butterflies exploded in her stomach as she melted away in the kiss. Robbie then pulled away, not breaking eye contact.
"Now I still don't know your secret-" Y/n said to break the silence. They both chuckled.
"I've liked you since the moment i've met you, y/n." He said softly which grew a huge smile on Y/n face.
"Well, good to know. Because I like you too, Shapiro." Y/n said and Robbie smiled.
"That's good, because it would've been weird if I kissed you and you didn't." He said and the both laughed for a bit. Robbie took y/n hand and sat closer to her. Y/n looked up again, stealing a quick kiss from him.
"Couldn't resist, sorry." She said and they both chuckled again.
"You can steal all the kisses you want from now on, no need to worry." He said and smiled. Y/n leaned her head on his shoulder.
514 notes · View notes
eoieopda · 1 year
Text
[visual content blog recommendations]
we see fic recs all the time, but i don’t think i’ve ever seen rec lists for visual content (gif/art/gfx/etc.) creators! they’ve been dealing with a bunch of shit lately between reposts, tumblr garbage, etc., so i wanna shout-out some favorites. thank you for keeping us fed!!
disclaimer: this is not an exhaustive list!! if you have recommendations of your own, please feel free to expand on this yourself and/or drop some of your faves in the replies for others to see. self-promo is always welcome here, too ✨ p.s. some of these are recent finds for me, so pls expect to see more of them on my blog. eta: i will be adding more as i go!!
[bts]
@yooboobies — réka’s gif sets are *chef’s kiss* and the ART? omg. the talent!!! 😭 we simply have to simp.
@cordiallyfuturedwight — apart from being one of the coolest/funniest people i’ve found on army tumblr, i am a kayla stan because the niche themes for her gif sets (ex. bangtan turtlenecks series) feel like they’re made 👏🏻 for 👏🏻 me 👏🏻 even though they absolutely aren’t, lmao.
@hopeinthebox — the bts as reductress headline + incorrect bangtan series are probably my favorite pieces of content on the entire internet??? also, lizzy is absolutely gd hilarious. tags are 11/10. a blessing upon my dash.
@kimtaegis — i’m not visually artistic enough to say this in a way that makes sense, but annie’s gifs are just… stunning? like, the colors? idk about the process that goes into that, but i imagine it takes a lot of time/finesse to be this vivid.
@kithtaehyung — ryen is the renaissance man of army tumblr, fr. not only can she write (like!!!) but she’s multi-faceted and insanely creative with her graphic design. i want her to tutor me, lmao.
@raplinenthusiasts — ooohhhhh my god. the coloring of their gifs makes my brain go brrrrtttt. this bts x the office set is on my “always reblog” list; i’ll share it every time i come across it.
@heybaetae — this set in particular is on my “always reblog” list, no matter how many times i’ve done so already. also, idk how to describe this, but kelli’s gifs are just…. crispy 🤌🏻 like, so satisfying with the…. texture? filtering? contrast? i’m an idiot re: editing terms, but go peep them and you’ll know what i’m trying to say.
@kth1 — literally who could ever forget maggie’s 100 days of (member) series??? the amount of work that had to go into that? unfathomable.
@jeurias — i want to wallpaper my house and office with their gfx. i’m deadass.
@jinstronaut — emmeline has been doing her “a jin a day while he’s away” series for OVER 250 DAYS NOW. i have never been nor will i ever be able to commit to anything to this level.
[multi/skz/atz/svt/etc.]
@starryoong — do not get me started on starry’s paintings, sketches, etc. because i will never shut up. ever. j’adore 🫠 is also a five-star human being.
@irlvernon — my queue is probably 80% max gifs at any given time. god-tier, fr. a must-follow for carats, as far as i’m concerned.
@vcrnons — incredible gifs, lovely human, and also the writer of some of my favorite svt fics??? we stan.
@yelhsaart — i don’t have any words for how much i love their art so please imagine guttural screaming instead. asdfghjkl!!!
@hizuillu — ……breathtaking. legitimately stunning skz art. like…… i have heart palpitations.
@snug-gyu — THE USE OF COLORS. i’m always a simp for pantone-inspired sets; they just scratch an itch in the back of my brain, and BOY HOWDY, is my brain satisfied 😵‍💫
@yunwooz — again, i have no idea what i’m talking about when it comes to the gif-making process, but the colors!!! the COLORS!!! like, taking a mv that’s not super vivid/is fairly greyscale and bringing it to life? ya know????
@booskwan — you want incredible gifs? they’ve got em. you want stunning gfx? they’ve got em. seriously, idk what to tell you except “pause right here and go follow immediately”.
@haechannabelle — listen……. annabelle’s art style is 😗🤌🏻 (that’s a chef’s kiss). the use of color, and the technique, and and and — ! ALSO, i must mention that she took, like, 50 hours to compile a boycott-friendly k-pop playlist. their vibes are simply impeccable.
rev. 4/10/24
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alexawynters · 8 months
Text
Scarlet Whispers pt 11
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Gif not mine
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female!Reader
Rating: M. Minors DNI
Masterlist with parts 1-10 here
Chapter Eleven
A/N: Sorry I forgot to post this week. Been pleasantly living life and it has. Been. Wonderful. Realized last second that this was the end of the week and I had not yet updated even though I had promised I would. This is not edited (beyond the usual sending it to the same three people at any rate), so uhhh... Sorry
Wanting to continue to woo you and show you just how happy the pair of you could be together, Wanda spends much of the night holding you in her arms as she plans to put together the perfect day for you tomorrow. Taking into account details she knows about your likes and dislikes from both you and your variant, as well as considering outings you had never gotten to experience before, the witch feels fairly confident in her plans for tomorrow. It wouldn’t take long for her to arrange it, just a few portals and conversations to make before you awakened for breakfast, and you always did love to sleep in.
Carefully extracting herself from around your body, Wanda placed a simple spell to ensure you stayed asleep while she was gone. Not viewing that as intrusive - if left unattended you would happily sleep an entire week and be thrilled. Wanda just wanted to ensure you didn’t wake up alone and be left to allow your insecurities to run rampant. Redressing herself with a wave of her hand, Wanda then conjured a portal to her first destination to begin making the arrangements. Your sleeping form remained undisturbed, none the wiser, happily ensconced in your dreams.
It was only an hour or so later when the witch returned, pleased with her efforts. Having just arrived back home, Wanda observed your sleeping form with fondness. She really hoped you would enjoy the plans she had made for you both tomorrow. Almost unable to wait due to her anticipation, the redhead resigned herself to going back to sleep, comforted in the knowledge that at least for now she was able to hold you in her arms.
Not accustomed to hearing the sound of a morning alarm, as you were used to getting up whenever Wanda did and starting the day, you were definitely startled by the chiming. At first, you thought you were still dreaming, but when the redhead started untangling herself from around you, you sadly realized that this was indeed a real alarm clock. You groaned, expressing your displeasure, and then turned to face Wanda with a questioning, albeit slightly annoyed, expression on your face.
An amused grin curled across the redhead’s face taking in your grumpy expression, finding it adorable. “Come on, detka, we have much to do today and as much as I’d love to laze about in bed with you, I have a surprise arranged.”
Knowing that would pique your interest she was unsurprised when you suddenly sat up, all traces of indignation gone. “Surprise, you say? Whatever could it be?” You asked, coyly. From experience Wanda wasn’t likely to tell you, but you couldn’t be blamed for asking regardless.
A melodious laugh tinkled in your ears as Wanda shook her head at your antics. “A surprise, malyshka, is only a surprise if it’s kept secret.” Her eyes sparkle with mirth as you deflate.
“Finnnne. One of these days you’re gonna tell me though. What’s the dress code this time?”
“Unlikely, darling. For the first part you’re probably going to want jeans, and any comfortable lightweight top. For this evening? We’ll get to that when we come back.” A playful wink is all you get before she heads into the bathroom to shower, grabbing some of her clothes in the process.
For a moment you toyed with the idea of following Wanda into the shower. Having slept together, in both senses of the word, surely it wouldn’t be weird to do that? Second guessing yourself, you set about getting breakfast ready instead, determining you would take your shower after she was out. Nothing wrong with continuing on how you had been, right? You didn’t want to make assumptions about your… relationship…? Not that you were going to ask, of course, you would rather melt into the floor from mortification. Instead, you opted to act like nothing’s changed until Wanda tells you otherwise. Solid plan. No possible way this could go wrong.
Humming away to music as you made búbos rántotta, hoping Wanda would appreciate the nod to her origins while keeping breakfast fairly simple, you missed the indistinct patter of the Sokovian’s feet as she entered the kitchen. She spent a few moments simply observing you, relishing in how cozy you seemed to feel in your home now.
“What are you making, dorogaya?” Wanda nearly appeared at your side, voice chipper while her hand draped low across your back. She was pleased that you didn’t startle as hard as you used to.
“Oh hey, Wands!” You turned cheerfully to her, taking in her freshly washed face, and soft expression. “Just whipped up a little breakfast for us while you were in the shower. I think your cooking skills are rubbing off on me.” A proud grin stretched across your features, tugging gently at Wanda’s heart strings.
A glance at the stove and Wanda couldn't help but pull you in for a soft kiss, grateful for your efforts. She recognized the traditional Sokovian breakfast, which consisted of a combination of eggs, sour cream, milk, butter, rye bread, diced bacon, paprika, chives, and salt. The rye bread was cut into crouton-sized pieces. Today was supposed to be about you, but as always, you had gone the extra mile to be thoughtful for Wanda. Knowing she missed her home terribly, and while you couldn't bring it back for her, whenever possible, you would give her something to remind her of it.
“It looks delicious lyubov moya, I can’t wait to dig in.” She looked at you, stars in her eyes.
With a silly grin on your face, you removed the food from the stove and plated it neatly before serving it on the table. The two of you enjoyed your meal while engaging in friendly conversation. Every now and then, you attempted to extract some information about Wanda's plans, but as anticipated, she remained tight-lipped. Nonetheless, she found great amusement in your efforts, neither confirming nor denying any of your suggestions, which sent your mind on a wild goose chase.
Once breakfast was finished, Wanda offered to clean up while you showered and got ready, to which you agreed. As you walked away however the witch couldn’t resist teasing you a bit.
"Next time, detka, feel free to join me. I won't bite... much." She gave your ass a playful smack, causing you to giggle as you escaped to the bathroom. At least now you knew for certain you were allowed, even if you still weren’t exactly certain what your relationship status was. Despite everything, you were pretty sure that if you had taken this morning's shower with Wanda, you would have probably combusted at the sight of her naked and wet body. A naked Wanda was something you weren't sure you could ever get used to.
Given your dress code for the day, it didn’t take you long to get ready and you were soon enough bouncing down the hallway to meet Wanda in the living room. She looked gorgeous as always, even in casual attire, though given the age difference, and different style of fashion, you couldn’t deny that Wanda looked like a MILF. Well. Given that she had been a mother at one point, you supposed that would be accurate.
Timidly, with a hint of nervousness, you mustered up the courage to reach out and gently take hold of her arm. Inquisitively, you couldn't help but ask again about the mysterious destination that awaited both of you. The redhead, wearing a mischievous grin, playfully wiggled her fingers in the air, conjuring a mesmerizing scarlet-ringed portal right before your eyes. As you stood there, your arms still interlinked, Wanda placed her hand atop yours, a comforting gesture that reassured you as you stepped together into the portal to your destination.
Turns out the other side of the portal led to a ranch. You weren’t sure exactly what part of the country, or even continent you were on, but it was definitely warmer than where you had just come from. Confused, you looked to Wanda, wondering why she had brought you to a ranch of all places. For your own sake you hoped this wasn’t one of those places where you pick out the cow you want to eat, and then they prepare it for you. Cows were giant grass puppies, and though you could eat beef on occasion, you didn’t think you could look into those large eyes knowing you were signing its death warrant. Surely the witch knew you better than that, right? Why did your brain always jump to the worst possible conclusions in .05 seconds?
Sensing your nervousness, Wanda merely squeezed your arm reassuringly as she led you towards the entrance. A man in a cowboy hat and boots exited the front door as you got closer and made his way towards you both. You watched him curiously as you got closer.
“G’day, ladies!” His voice was a nice baritone with what you immediately clocked as an Australian accent. Truly, with Wanda’s abilities, you weren’t sure why you were surprised she could bring you to Australia. More accurately you supposed you wondered why she had brought you to a whole other continent, especially since you were fairly certain most things in this country would and could kill you. She was far more worldly than you, surely she knew all the dangers here, right? Maybe you were being paranoid but to be fair this country had everything from giant spiders, giant snakes, kangaroos with giant murder mittens… Australia was not on the list of countries you had ever wanted to visit. Respectfully. 
Turning to Wanda, confused, but she ignored your glance, instead conversing with the man. As they spoke however it quickly became clear what the goal was, and you could not be more thrilled. Wanda had brought you here to ride a horse for the very first time, and to pet some of your favorite animals, the giant grass puppies: cows. Unable to completely reign in your excitement, you squealed, bouncing up and down while still holding onto the poor witch’s arm.
You could overlook this deathtrap of a country in favor of grass puppies and horses. 
Both Wanda and the rancher found your antics amusing, and they laughed as Ethan, the rancher whose name you had learned, explained the plan to both of you (mostly to Wanda). The agenda for today included taking you to the corral to choose a horse to ride. Ethan would then show you how to tack your chosen horse and lead you on a pleasant ride around the property. Additionally, since you had a fondness for cows, Ethan planned to bring you to the pasture to meet some of the animals.
Since you had never been riding before, you weren't entirely sure what to expect. You felt excited but also nervous. Horses were majestic creatures, but they were certainly larger than any animal you had ever been around, and as such you were hoping your fear wouldn’t shine through. Ethan led you to the corral, and you picked out a magnificent chestnut beauty named Ziggy.
Tacking up the horse you found wasn't too difficult, although it was a bit cumbersome. Ziggy seemed content to let you handle the saddle while Ethan made necessary adjustments. However, you refused to be the one to equip the bridle, as you found the idea of your hands being near such strong teeth to be a deterrent. Wanda had no qualms about getting her horse, a spotted brown and white Appaloosa named Duchess, ready to go. She was already on top of her horse while you were still figuring out how to mount something so tall.
Fortunately, you were eventually able to get settled, even though it took a few attempts. Nevertheless, you were prepared and just waiting for Ethan. You would have been embarrassed by how much faster he was ready if you didn't attribute it to his years of experience with horses. Since this was your first time, it was only natural that you wouldn't be perfect at it. Luckily, neither Wanda nor Ethan seemed to be laughing at you. You considered it a victory.
Initially everything seemed to be going swimmingly. Having set off on a trail that wound through the scenic Australian landscape, each hoofbeat syncing with the heartbeat of the countryside. The wind whispered through the trees, and the rhythmic clip-clops created a harmonious melody. As Ziggy gracefully navigated the trail, you reveled in the freedom of the open terrain and the feeling of the wind in your hair.
Everything was fine until Ziggy stepped on an unsteady rock, dislodging it and stumbling briefly. Although neither of you had fallen, the jostle was enough to rattle you completely. Your confidence in both the horse and your own abilities was shaken, causing your anxiety to increase significantly. Fear has a way of bypassing rational thinking, and it never occurred to you that if you were in real danger of falling, Wanda would have intervened in an instant. Instead, all you could think about was your impending doom and how leaving the house had been a terrible mistake. Leaving the house was always a terrible mistake, your parents always made sure to remind you of that, why you never listened was beyond any of you. Anytime you did and something inevitably went wrong, no matter how injured or sad you were, they never had a problem reminding you that it was your fault for venturing away from their protection, and you didn’t deserve to be taken care of since you chose to leave in the first place. This was no different. It seemed like everything, including the horse, wanted to harm you, and you wanted nothing more than for this tour to be over and to once again be standing on the ground with your own two feet.
Sensing your fear, Ziggy became agitated, thinking you saw some threat he could not. A vicious cycle, the more afraid you got, the more unsettled the horse got. Soon Ziggy also just wanted to go back to his “home” and began to trot ahead in an effort to get there faster. You, having never ridden a horse before let alone one that was trotting or cantering, immediately felt terror flare up within. Unintentionally you pointed your feet downwards, as if pressing the breaks in a car hoping that would somehow stop the animal, which instead signaled to Ziggy to go faster.
You let out a squeak as the pace increased, feeling panicked and starting to cry out for Wanda. Surprisingly, your cries were more like whimpers than screams for help. Wanda understood the situation and knew that you would be alright if you could just calm down. Hurriedly she urged her horse to catch up with yours and made eye contact with Ethan to gauge his reaction. Meanwhile, the rancher was already ahead of her, riding next to you and reassuring you that the horse was just responding to your fear and foot signals. However, none of his words seemed to reach you, your distress rapidly becoming unmanageable.
Realizing that you were mentally overwhelmed, Wanda approached you and Ethan. Gently taking your hands in hers, she suggested, "Perhaps we should pause, and Y/N can ride the rest of the way with me?" Neither you nor Ethan noticed her eyes glowing red, but Ethan readily agreed that this would be the best decision for everyone involved.
The rancher took the reins from your shaking hands. With a simple command and pulling back on them, Ziggy finally came to a stop. Tears were streaming down your face at this point. Although you were no longer in danger, you were deeply embarrassed by your reactions. It was just a horse, and it shouldn't have been such a significant ordeal. Yet, there you were, a grown adult, sobbing in fear and practically begging to be allowed off the horse.
Wanda realized a flaw in their plan: once you stepped on the ground, she wouldn't be able to convince you to ride another horse, even if it was just to accompany her back to the ranch a few miles away. Instead of leaving you completely, the older woman rode up next to you. With the help of both Wanda and Ethan, you managed to transition from Ziggy to Duchess. Although you doubted it was much safer, as soon as you felt Wanda's arms encircling you from behind, your heart returned to its normal rhythm. Wanda had you. She would make sure nothing bad happened to you. You were safe. 
Feeling ashamed, you quietly murmured apologies for having such a public meltdown and inconveniencing everyone. However, Wanda, not accepting your unwarranted feelings of humiliation and inadequacy, quickly dispelled your apologies.
“Detka, this whole day is about you. If you’re not having fun, then what’s the point? There’s nothing wrong with what just happened, it was a perfectly normal and valid reaction. No one here is inconvenienced, do you hear me?”
Dejectedly you nodded, though your thoughts were still far away.
“Words, detka. I need you to understand that you haven’t done anything wrong. I want you to be happy and enjoy yourself, and if that means you ride with me, I don’t mind it at all.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as she pressed her lips closer to your ear, her next words meant for you alone. “Besides, if you’re riding with me, I get the pleasure of having your body pressed up against mine, and I can assure you, I would never consider that to be an inconvenience.”
Speaking a little louder she asked again. “Do you understand that, Y/N? You are not an inconvenience, or a burden, or anything else your mind is telling you right now. Okay?”
This time, you acknowledge your understanding and allow your thoughts to settle for the moment. Feeling a mix of lingering embarrassment and a slight arousal from Wanda's whispered words in your ear, you made an effort to regain your composure. Once you felt confident enough to continue, Wanda and Ethan started their journey back to the ranch. Ethan held the reins of Ziggy, as well as his own mount.
The remainder of the trip was enjoyable for you. You were now able to observe the scenery that you had been missing out on during the last half hour of your anxiety attack, all from the safety and comfort of Wanda's embrace. Ethan led the way, and neither of you spoke much. However, the witch took the time to occasionally give light kisses to your cheek and the back of your neck, while one of her hands rubbed soothing circles on your abdomen.
You weren’t sure you ever wanted to go horseback riding again, but you supposed you could be amenable as long as the caveat was you got to ride with Wanda. Eventually you interlinked your hands together, pondering on how grateful you were that she put this together for you. The witch was always thinking of you, of ways to make you happy. You appreciated that she wasn’t only trying to provide you with materialistic gifts.
The experiences she so thoughtfully arranged for you were so incredibly sweet. Far more important to you than the latest video game. Not that you didn’t appreciate those also, but this was a beautiful memory that would last a lifetime. You gave a lingering squeeze to Wanda’s hand in yours, hoping to convey just how grateful and happy you were to be here right now. The redhead seemed to understand and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek in return.
About an hour later, you returned to the ranch. Ethan dismounted first to assist you in getting off Duchess. He then guided both of you through the process of removing the tack, grooming the horses (you felt much more at ease with Ziggy now that you were on the ground), and placing them in their respective stables.
As you followed the rancher, he guided you towards the vast pasture, where your eyes were greeted with a delightful sight of numerous grass puppies - or rather, cows - leisurely strolling around. The feeling of anxiety that once consumed you had faded into the distant memory. Narrowly you manage to restrain yourself from sprinting ahead of the group as you gradually approach these magnificent creatures.
Approaching the nearest pen, you could see a cow and her calf eating some barley and hay next to the metal railing. As you reached out to pet the cow, Ethan introduced them. “This here is Buttercup, and the little one just there is Dottie.”
Fingers outstretched; you tried not to coo in delight as they made contact with the coarse fur. Buttercup seemed minorly interested in you, leaning her head closer to your touch while munching on the hay, but otherwise nonplussed at your presence. In a gentle voice, you spoke softly to the animal, praising her, waxing poetic about what a beautiful cow she was. You were rewarded with a light nuzzle from Buttercup before she leant back down for another mouthful of food. Completely enamored with the animal, you missed Wanda’s affectionate gaze.
Letting Buttercup finish her meal in peace, you knelt to say hello to Dottie. She was more skittish than her adult counterpart, but since her mother didn’t seem overly concerned, Dottie allowed you to offer her some of the hay to munch on. Once you had given her the food, which admittedly was already freely available on the ground, Dottie was content to let you scratch behind her ears. With much restraint, you were able to control the cute aggression urge to pick the calf up and hold her. Something told you neither the calf nor her mother would be overly pleased if you were to, so you resigned yourself to simply giving Dottie scritches.
Unbeknownst to you, Wanda had her phone out and was alternating between snapping pictures and videos. Your adoration for these creatures was evident, and she couldn't resist capturing every second of this precious memory. She even cooed when you leaned close enough to Dottie to place a single kiss on her nose. In response, the calf sneezed in confusion, and everyone burst into laughter.
Once you felt satisfied with the amount of attention you had given to the grass puppies, you stood up and dusted off your jeans. Making your way towards Wanda, who was engaged in a polite conversation with Ethan, you approached the witch and embraced her from her side. You didn't want to interrupt, but at the same time, you wanted to be close to the woman who had essentially made one of your dreams come true. The feeling of love and gratitude left you elated and desiring to be as close to Wanda as physically possible.
Wanda briefly glanced at you as you wrapped your arms around her. She lifted one of her own and draped it around your shoulders, all while continuing her conversation with the rancher. The chit chat soon petered out, and she expressed gratitude to him for making everything happen. Ethan, pleased to have them there, thanked Wanda for her generous donation to his ranch. You raised an amused and questioning eyebrow in response. Ignoring your look, the redhead assured Ethan that it was her pleasure to help such a fine establishment and wished him luck for the day.
As Ethan made his way back to the entrance of the main building of the ranch, Wanda separated from you momentarily to take your hand and ask how your day was. Happy that she wanted to stay close, you brought your interlocked hands to your face, placing a soft kiss on her knuckles. Immediately, you began talking about how much fun you had and how you couldn't believe you had the opportunity to not only pet a cow but also a calf! The horse-riding experience wasn't too bad, all things considered, but you requested that next time you be allowed to ride with Wanda from the start. The reasoning you provided was that you didn't want anything with a brain between your legs that wasn't Wanda. You simply didn't trust it.
Not realizing what you had just said, Wanda burst into laughter, waiting for your brain to catch up with your mouth. When it finally did, your face turned bright red, and you mumbled into her shoulder, asking her to stop teasing you. Giggling, Wanda shook her head and refused, promising to never let you forget about it. You playfully complained about how Wanda was being a big old meanie, and lightly swatted her shoulder, causing her to burst into another fit of laughter.
Eventually, you couldn't help but fall into uncontrollable laughter alongside her. It was funny, even if it was just a slip of the tongue. However, you remained firm in your stance, undeterred by any potential innuendos. The two of you continued to share laughter and engage in conversation while Wanda skillfully conjured a portal to transport you back home. In the midst of all the excitement, you had momentarily forgotten that there was a second part to this memorable date, but Wanda hadn't. She insisted on bringing you back home so you could both freshen up and prepare for the next phase of the evening. Despite being aware that you might be a bit tired, Wanda was adamant that you would still be eager to partake in the upcoming portion of the date, regardless.
A/N: This was longer than I intended. I sort of got a little lost in the horse-riding experience that totally was not at allllll based upon real life events. That said, if we were meant to ride horses, we would have those mind-meld attachments that the Na’vi have in the movie Avatar. Anyway. Sorry it’s so long, I had some other things I wanted to include in this chapter that will have to wait until the next one. Also, if you live in Australia, my apologies, but you will never convince me that everything in your country isn’t filled with seething hatred for the human race, fueling their gargantuan sizes, venomous stingers, and sharp claws that are 100% designed to kill me, personally. Respectfully, reeespeeeectfully, your country terrifies me lol. Pls don’t hate me! I know there are many incredible and wonderful things and animals in your country, but all I see are spiders, snakes, kangaroos (those are not as friend-shaped as I had initially thought..) etc. All of which are in places too close to where I would be if I were ever to visit, and just... No. No thank yew. Respectfully. Also (sorry for the long af A/N) I know that it’s a lot for a date to go horseback riding, pet cows, and still go to dinner all in one day. But lissen. Lissen. Lesbians. We have dates that can last several days, fite me.
Taglist: @dorabledewdroop
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