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#y'all can't understand how much i miss them
claras-oswald · 1 year
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he-calls-me-kitten · 5 months
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Dirty Dozen (ft. +2)
GN! MC x Pervert! OM Characters
(Cause y'all seemed to love the first one omg. Also TW: I made everyone wayy more sleazy and nasty than before so read at your own risk. MInors DNI)
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Pervert! Mammon who likes to ask you for something specifically when your hands are full. "MC, lend me a few Grimm could ya?" He asks when you're in the middle of cooking.
"My hands are covered in cake batter, just take some from my back pocket."
"Are you sure it's there? Let me check both pockets." He isn't so much searching for coins as much as he's feeling and practically groping your ass. Seriously you start to wonder how it's taking him 20 minutes to find something that's right there.
Pervert! Solomon who keeps his room colder than usual when you come over for magic lessons.
"Is it too cold for you MC? I apologise, I kept it this way because some of the potions have bad reactions to heat but if you'd like-"
"I'm absolutely fine, Solomon. You worry about me too much." You smile at him reassuringly, not noticing how his eyes are so eagerly trained at your nipples perking up through your thin t-shirt.
Boner Bonus points if you allow him to hug you for some warmth. His fingers will definitely brush against your chest more than once.
Pervert! Beel who seems to make a mess whenever he's trying to help you in the kitchen. "I'm so sorry, MC. I didn't mean to spill it on your hands!"
"It's okay Beel, it's just some cream and syrup. I can just wash it off right away."
"But it's such a waste. Please allow me." He starts to thoroughly lick your fingers and you shake your head and let him knowing his fixations on food.
But he can't help it - you taste so good. He secretly wonders what you might taste like down there, drooling at the thought.
Pervert! Levi who has taken to sitting on pillows Japanese style while gaming and offers you the same. Sure enough you don't even suspect an ulterior motive.
"Did you get inspired by some human world anime again? Careful though - your legs and butt will start to cramp after a while."
"MC you're too gracious! Caring so much for an otaku like me!"
After you leave, he promptly takes the pillow you were sitting on and puts it in his bathtub. He's going to sleep on it ofc. Your scent on it helps him jerk off better.
Pervert! Belphie who now asks you to rub his belly till he falls asleep. "What's so funny?" He asks as you giggle at his request.
"Since when do you need help falling asleep?"
"I care about the quality of my sleep. And I sleep better this way."
Fortunately you believe him and don't suspect that it's because it's the closest he can get you to fondling his dick. He has such a difficult time holding in his moans and hard ons, every time your hands go even a bit lower than usual.
Pervert! Barbatos who got into sewing clothes as a hobby and specifically likes making them for you now. But you never understand why he needs to take same measurements over and over again.
"Oh? This is a different kind of design, MC. So the measurements will vary from before."
"Always making new things aren't you? You never fail to suprise Barbatos." You smile at him admiring.
The tightening of the tape around your chest and crotch are subtle. He can hardly keep it together when you praise him after all. But he has to if he wants to skim his hands over your body like this again.
Pervert! Diavolo who takes you on such long drives that you always doze off in the front seat, waking up apologetic for missing so much of the journey.
"Hahaha, it's okay, MC. We've been on this same road lots of times. I assure you, you didn't miss anything. And I like that you feel safe to sleep in my presence."
"But still, I'm so sorry, it feels disrespectful..." You apologize, not even knowing how hard he is in his pants right now.
Afterall, he can keep squeezing your beautiful thighs, maybe let his hands wander between them and imagine himself fucking you in the back seat as much as he wants, when you're asleep.
Pervert! Simeon who will have noone except you as his muse for art classes. And the themes just keep getting more erotic each time.
"Are you sure you're okay with this, MC? You don't have to do it if you're not comfortable-"
"Nonsense, Simeon. I feel super comfortable if it's you. You're a true artist after all." You say as you lay on his bed wrapped up only in bedsheets, exposing your entire back and legs.
If only you knew, this angel has thoughts dirtier than most demons. How he's practically fucking you with his eyes. How he's definitely going to jerk off into those bedsheets, moaning your name.
Pervert! Satan who loves teaching you things - standing right behind you, guiding your hands to make latte-art, or trying a new style of painting.
"That's it, nice and slow. Look how much you've improved, MC." He beams at the cute kitty in the coffee cup.
"All thanks to you, Satan. I can't wait to learn more from you." You smile at him earnestly.
He almost feels guilty for tricking you this way, but the way your hands feel in his, and your ass feels against his groin is so addicting. One of these days, he wishes could teach you to be on all fours and take his length in your pretty little mouth.
Pervert! Asmo who loves keeping your eyes on him and noone else. From elaborate performances to petty staring contests, he cannot have enough of your gaze.
"Oh you're turning red in the face, Asmo. Did I manage to flutter the heart of the Avatar of Lust?" You lean forward smiling.
"You're my only weakness after all, MC. It's your fault for making me this way." He almost moans.
You laugh and mock apologize at his antics but you don't know he's been grinding like an animal on his seat, and creamed his pants under your innocent gaze. Your undivided attention just turns him on so much.
Pervert! Lucifer who makes his desires too obvious sometimes. He'll regret it in the morning and take you to dinner to apologize but not until he's already done something dirty.
"Lucifer, it's 2 am. You need to throw away that coffee and sleep." You're practically dragging him to bed.
"Fine. I'll go sleep if you'll stay in my room tonight." He says knowing you'll comply. You care too much for your own good. He's not even going to let you sleep on the couch, no you have to stay wrapped up in his arms.
You might wake upto him groaning your name in his sleep and you might mistake it for a nightmare - not knowing how he's balls deep inside you in his dreams.
Pervert! Thirteen who likes how excited you get over her newest inventions and keeps making more things to call you over.
"And this little baby and can throw pie at people's faces without ever missing. Guaranteed headshot." She smiles proud.
"This would be so useful in a cafeteria food fight and then get banned right after its glory. But I so wanna use it!" You whine.
She loves how much you appreciate her inventions. She is secretly working on a 'pleasure' device scented like her to give you - she hopes you'll like it just as much.
Pervert! Mephisto who is actually taken aback by your duality. You're such a mischievous little imp usually but turn so well-mannered in front of Diavolo's esteemed guests.
"So even you can be prim and proper sometimes? If only you could maintain this on the daily." He huffs.
You laugh and mock-bow in front of him. "Of course, anything for you my dearest lord. Would you like to dance with this proper human while you can?"
He blushes at the sudden offer. Why you little- how dare you tempt him like this. You can't complain about him gripping you somewhere improper or too tight. You deserve this for your attitude.
Pervert! Raphael who is still navigating new feelings of lust he's never felt before he met you. Why his heart skips every time you fall asleep on his shoulder or why he felt a sudden warmth at the pit of his stomach feeling you breath so softly into his neck.
"Thank you for helping me tidy the classroom, MC. I didn't even know where the cleaning supplies were."
"That's alright. It's more fun with two people anyway and wait Raphael there's a bucket over the-" The fresh bucket of water already spilled splashing all over both of you.
You immediately fetched a towel to help him dry up but he couldn't stop staring at you instead. With the uniform sticking to your body like and the water glistening on your exposed skin - why was he so enthralled? Why does he feel a strange pulsing between his legs as you hover over him?
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ghostedcas · 7 months
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imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose
okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."
thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH
simon 'ghost' riley x reader
wc: 563
warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)
a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3
a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?
simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.
so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.
looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.
"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.
"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.
"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.
"i'm taken."
"i know." you replied with a short laugh.
"you should be touching me like that then."
it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.
"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"
"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.
"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.
sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.
"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.
you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.
"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.
"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.
simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."
you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.
you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.
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ryotono · 1 year
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Hashiras/Pillars and [Y/N] and quotes and mucho rizz hihi (sorry)
Feat. Kamaboko squad!
Enjoy!
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When Tanjiro attacks sanemi:
[Y/N]: GET HIM BOY, F*CKING KICK HIS ASS AYOOO
Giyuu: so it's you the bad influence
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In the Battle against Upper moon one:
[Y/N] looking at Kokushibo: so, he is your like great-great-grandfather?
Muichiro: yes
[Y/N]: oh...
[Y/N]: is he single?
Muichiro: wtf
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Tanjiro: what's your breathing style? you're a hashira, so must be something really cool!
[Y/N]: I can tell you only if you promise it's a secret between us
Tanjiro: oh ofc!
[Y/N] get closer: it's rizz
Tanjiro: what
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Zenitsu: what do you mean "Rizz" that's not even a breathing style-
[Y/N] pointing to the other pillars: do you see all that people?
Zenitsu: yes?
[Y/N]: all of them are my bitches, except for muichiro, muichiro is my baby
[Y/N]: so don't do "tHaT's NoT eVeN a BrEaThInG sTyLE" to me boy, because my rizz is upper than you ever gonna be, understood?
Zenitsu, crying: y-yes sir
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Hashira meeting:
Giyuu: y'all joking, [Y/N] doesn't have a crush in me
Gyomei: yes they do
Uzui: sadly they do
Sanemi: they fucking do you blind ass f*cker ("no offense gyomei" "it's okay")
Mitsuri: they do!!! ^^
Muichiro: that cloud looks like a duck, ha
Shinobu: they do tomioka san
Rengoku: NO JOKES, THEY DO PARTNER!
Obanai: they do, and it's disgusting
[Y/N]: yes I do, very much actually
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[Y/N]: okay but what about your great-great-uncle?
Muichiro: leave me alone
[Y/N]: answer the question muichiro, ANSWER
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Inosuke: HEY YOU, THE HASHIRA
[Y/N]: hm, me?
Inosuke: YES, FIGHT ME!
[Y/N]: HOLY SH*T PEPPA PIG??
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[Y/N]: I don't understand, how could i have food poisoning?
Shinobu: did you eat something strange?
[Y/N]: no! I just made me some food
Shinobu: that explains a lot
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[Y/N]: so you telling that we have to beat Michael Jackson?
Ubuyashiki: yes- wait, who-
[Y/N]: what if "HEE HEE" us? I'm scared, rengoku hold me
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[Y/N]: I’ve only had Kamaboko Squad for a day and a half
[Y/N]: but if anything happened to them I’d kill everyone in this room and then myself.
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Sanemi: WHAT DID YOU SAY?
[Y/N]: i said that if you keep screaming and threatening your beautiful little brother, I'm gonna get your sword and f*cking shove in your ass, got it :)?
Sanemi: alright
let's try again
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Sanemi: WHAT DID YOU SAY?
[Y/N]: I hate you, but at the same time I want to kiss you so bad, and give you all the love and support you deserve babe
Sanemi: ???
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
[Y/N] in a mission with Mitsuri and Obanai:
Obanai, obviously furious: can't you just go away? There's enough pillars in this mission
[Y/N]: yeah I can go, but I don't want to miss your failure to confess to Mitsuri, start dating, eventually getting married and have kids, living happy, but because your such a weakass, none of this is going to happen
Obanai: ... You don't need to say that y'know
[Y/N]: oh yes I need
just kidding I love obanai
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Gyomei: hello there
[Y/N]: boobs
Gyomei: sorry?
[Y/N] sweating: i-i mean titties- NO I MEAN BIG MEN BOOBS F*CK I MEAN HI HELLO HOW ARE YOU??
Gyomei:
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X: Master Ubuyashiki, we need to stop the Hashira [Y/N]
Ubuyashiki: why is that
X: They are adopting all the kids here, started with that group with the demon sister, then the younger brothers of the Wind and Flame Pillar and the girls from Butterfly State, even the Mist Pillar are gone
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Akaza: guess it's your end now rengoku
[Y/N]: THE FUCK IT'S NOT YOUR KICKED BASKETBALL SON OF A BI-
TANJIRO: WHERE'D YOU EVEN COME FROM?
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Extra!
Akaza: and suddenly appears this crackhead kinda of demon slayer, and starts barking at me
Kokushibo: like a dog?
Akaza: yes
Demon [Y/N]: heh, I like them
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TWO [Y/N]'S????? AND CRACKHEAS??? PROTECT YOUR CHILDREN PEOPLE
That's all for today! Thank you all for reading and interacting with my other posts ;) Love y'all!!!!
(English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any misspelling or errors)
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11cupid-tarot11 · 3 days
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Short Channeled Letters From Your Boo! 💜
🪽
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Pile 1 -> 3
Dm me for private readings!
$1.11 per question, c@shapp- $minnieplant3
Tips appreciated! 🩵
Love y'all! -Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.
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Pile 1-
Hi you! ;)
I want to get right to the point. I might be distant lately, I know we used to hang out quite a lot, right? I miss it too. I miss you. Literally every single thing about you down to the smallest of details and I think you miss me too. You see me everywhere, don't you? I see you too, in my dreams, every time I close my eyes. No one understands me like you do, no one knows what I've been through like you do, we're best friends so of course this separation would hurt you, it hurts me too, but it's the best thing I could think to do. I found myself falling in love with you, I felt scared and vulnerable again like a child and the feeling scared me. I knew it was something so much deeper because I love you enough to change, I love you so much I don't want my demons to ever hurt you, ever. I'll be back! I can't stay away from you too long, I've got plans ;)
Be talking to you soon sweetie :) take care!
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Pile 2-
Hey my angel, how are you my love? It's been such a crazy journey, right? So many wild twists and turns, but we made it through! We're almost there now! I've been manifesting you for awhile, from far away, while you're with them. I pray and hope you're willing to accept me this time, because I'm ready and I really want all of you. All of your shadows. Everything. I really want to kiss you. I know I don't show it often, I'm not in the position to really show you right now anyways even if I wanted to, but I will be soon ;) I can't wait to spoil you rotten, pamper you and love you the way you should be loved, I can do it all, I'm very willing. I think we're soulmates, I can't ever imagine letting you go again, our future plays in my dreams like my little safe haven. 😇
Love you, angel!
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Pile 3-
Meeting you would have to be one of the best things that has ever happened to me, even if it's not our time :)
When I think of something perfect I think of you, you're what I want, you're what I crave but I just can't seem to open my eyes to look for you, baby I might be a fool sometimes, if I'm being honest I'm a mess a lot of the time and that's the problem, who wants to hear that, though, right? But it's the truth, that's why I keep attracting every one bad for me, isn't it? You deserve someone who's your knight in shining armor, someone who matches your energy perfectly and I'm not going to touch a single hair on your head until I feel like I'm worthy to. I'm working on matching my energy up there with yours, in so many aspects and different ways. There isn't anything you should ever worry about, darling. You're going to be my last puzzle piece 🧩💕.
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animehideout · 4 months
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Hello!! can you do a gojo x reader and like gojo is always on a lot of trips to kill curses and stuff and everytime he comes back home all he wants to do is just sleep with you and it starts making you think he only wants you for your body but she just keeps that thought to herself cuz she thought if she tells gojo he might end their relationship untill something happens and she finally breaks down leaving gojo to comfort her
Please and thank you!
My One And Only
Gojo Satoru x Fem! Reader ( Reader thinks Gojo is using her for her body )
a/n: thank you anon for this request, I really hope you enjoy this one. And remember guys, don't bottle up your feelings, talk it out , communication is the key <33 love y'all and stay safe.
Warnings 🔞: SMUT NSFW MDNI / NOT PROOFREAD.
Song recommendation: I'll Be Good - Jaymes Young 🎶
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♪I never meant to start a fire, I never meant to make you bleed.. I'll be a better man today♪
You sat on your bed, clutching your phone tightly after reading a message from your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru: { Get ready for me, princess. I can't wait till I get home and have you all to myself, all night }.
The words, the familiar message, never seemed to change. While you longed for a more thoughtful, romantic message, disappointment crept in every time you unlocked your phone. You understand his busy schedule and duty as the strongest sorcerer, exorcising curses and protecting others, but what about your feelings? Who protects them?
He's often away on trips, since the higher-ups depend on him for everything. You've always taken pride in his skills and capabilities, that earned the trust of others, making the world feel safer with his presence. But, your bed remains cold, your house feels empty, and he's not physically present when you're sad, need to vent, or simply want to share a laugh. The persistent feeling of loneliness creeps in, filling your mind with unwanted thoughts. Each night concludes with a heavy sigh, as you find solace in cuddling your pillow, questioning the nature of your relationship with him.
You meet once a week, you'd eagerly set the scene for cozy moments ; snuggling, watching a movie, going on a date, or simply chilling and talking. Yet, it always veers into having sex. You love him and want him as much as he wants you but you can't help the disappointment you've felt
“Is he using me?”,
the same thought echoes in your mind week after week. You wanted to communicate your feelings, but the words linger unspoken at the tip of your tongue, always swallowed back, completely offering yourself to him.
Night fell swiftly, the clock ticked so fast, and there you were sat on your bed, half naked, waiting like he told you. You could have refused, but you simply didn't. you missed him and craved the way he touches you, the way he makes you scream his name, the way your eyes tear up from how good and deep he's pounding inside you. The way air gets stuck in your throat when his big veiny hands circle around your delicate neck. You wanted every bit of it, there's no denying in that.
The front door swung open and closed, signaling Satoru's arrival. Your heart quickened, anticipation the long night that waited ahead
“Hey, baby..” he began,
placing his keys on the nightstand and giving you a peck. You managed a weak smile.
“Did you miss me?” he added, stripping himself. “Come on, join me for a shower and help me wash up”.
He gently pulled you towards the bathroom.Your back was pressed to his chest, as he left a trail of kisses on your shoulders and the back of your neck. The warm water relaxing each tensed muscle. You closed your eyes enjoying the sensation. The steam raising from the shower, created a gentle fog turning the bathroom into a cozy space. Too emersed into the cute moments of peace,
“Maybe tonight will be different, maybe he'll stay and won't leave after sex like he always does, saying that he needs to be at work again” you thought to yourself,
hoping that this night, he proves all what you've been overthinking for the last weeks in wrong, but shorty you were pressed against the bathroom wall, warm water still running. A surprised gasp left your mouth at the sudden movement. The cold wall that Gojo pinned you against sent shivers down your spine.
“I can't wait any longer” he whispered to your ear. He turned you and now you're chest hitting the wall, “bend over a bit for me, babygirl” he demanded, growing impatient by each passing second.
A groan escaped his mouth when your tighteness welcomed his hardened cock. A soft moan, slipped from your parted lips as he started moving. The rhythmic sound of water droplets echoed and mixed with the wet clapping sounds, and your moans. Your eyes rolled back, too needy for him as he fucked that spot again and again,
“I fucking love fucking you, I love fucking your body, this pussy is all what I can think about” he said panting.
Little did he know that what he said but turn you off so quickly. Your body, is it all what he wants? he didn't even say 'I love you', his sweet talk was all about what satisfied him, but enough,
“Can you stop please” you said out of the blue, making him look in confusion but kept on going,
“already tired? I've planned a long night for us..but if you want me to stop use your safe word” he chuckled.
“I SAID STOP” you snapped.
Under different circumstances, you'd find joy in his words. However, with all those unspoken emotions weighing on you, hearing him say something like that became your breaking point. He stood still, a hint of concern in his voice as he asked,
“D-did I do something wrong?” His hands rested on your hips from behind.
In that quiet moment, only the sound of the water stream filled the air before you spoke again,
“I don't want to continue, pull it out”.
“Hah is this some kind of joke? why on earth would I stop?”
“Because I don't want to”
“Dont lie to me Y/n, I know you want it, I won't pull out”
“Satoru...please” you said as you moved his hands from your hips.
His brows furrowed as he distanced himself from your body, pulling his length out of you, giving you what you requested. You cleaned yourself and then stepped out of the shower wrapped in your towel, while he observed silently.
Seated on the edge of your bed, you waited for him to join you.He carefully settled beside you, his gaze unwavering on your form.
“So, are you going to tell me why the hell you did that?” he asked, breaking the awkward silence.
Without meeting his eyes, you murmured, “Do you even love me, Satoru?” Your gaze remained fixed on the floor.
“What kind of question is this?”
“Just fucking answer it” you spat out in a harsh tone, catching him off guard.
“I do, of course I love you”
“Haha, funny. Why'd you lie? You just love my body, Satoru, don't you?”
“I love you and I love your body. Can you please explain it to me clearly? Cuz I failed to get your point”
“Oh is that so? okay then I'll explain to you, I'll explain to you how I've been feeling for weeks now, how I'm always left alone, how you always show up once a week, have sex with me and then leave as if I'm your fuck toy, I'll explain how you don't even care, cuz you only care about how to pleasure yourself... I'M NOT YOUR SLUT GOJO SATORU”You yelled.
Caught off guard by you, his blue eyes widened mirroring the disbelief that etched across his face. Your words hung in the air, leaving him momentarily speechless.
“A-are you serious?”
“YES I'M FUCKING SERIOUS, IF YOUR FEELINGS TOWARDS ME FADED THEN JUST SAY IT SATORU, BUT DON'T YOU DARE TO FUCK ME EVER AGAIN”
You broke down into tears, hugging your knees, wet hair falling on your face, chest still heavy even though you let out all of your concerns.
“No, no, don't cry, Y/n. Baby, look at me, please” he said softly, a hint of panic in his deep voice.
His fingers gently lifted your chin, making you meet his gaze. Kissing away your tears, he whispered,
“Don't ever think like this again. I love you, Y/n I always have and always will, and nothing can change that”
“Then why'd you leave? It feels like you throw me away everytime after getting what you wanted from me” you expressed with a quiver in your voice.
“I'm sorry if I made you feel that way. I never meant to hurt you. I was just scared they might harm you, which is why I minimized our dates”
“Who might hurt me?”
“The sorcerers working against me and the special grade curses. I would never forgive myself if something bad happened to you”
“You know I'll be fine. You don't need to overthink it like that. It's not even my point yet—”
“I know, I know, thats it's always us having sex? thinking that I'm taking advantage of your body? Why didn't you tell me earlier baby? We could've talked it out, I could've explained, we could've done something else... It's just that's how I express love to you, through physical intimacy. I thought you liked it, I thought you were enjoying it. That's why I didn't stop. And I'm sorry about that..” he whispered, looking down, visibly disappointed in himself.
Your gaze lingered on him; you believed him, of course, you just needed that reassurance.
“I thought if I told you you'd break up with me and leave–”
His heart ached, how could you possibly think of that when he loved you with each fiber in his body.
“L-leave you? my life is meaningless without you Y/n how could I ever leave you” he explained pain visible in his tone.
You shrugged, sniffling, looking at him with your teary eyes..
“Come here” he signaled for you to move closer.
His large arms enveloped you in a bear hug as you sat on his lap.
“I love you for you, for your personality, your mind, your laugh, for the way you find beauty in everything. I never meant to disappoint you, and it will never happen again. Next time, if something bothers you, just talk it out and don't bottle it up. I want you to be comfortable all the time, okay?” he exclaimed, kissing the top of your head.
You nodded slowly, further burying your head in his bare chest, your warm breath tickling his skin.
“How about we cuddle and watch your favorite movie? I'll take a day off tomorrow so we can spend more time together, and you're right; I shouldn't be overthinking that much. From now on, not gonna minimize any date, instead, I'll work harder on keeping you safe all the time...You're my one and only Y/n!!” he said with a wide smile, lifting your spirits once again.
You spent the night in each other's arm, eating popcorn and pastries, laughing and joking around, till both of you fell asleep... You indeed helped him learn how to treat you better, helped him express his love in other ways, helped him to take into account your feelings. Communication is all what both of you needed from the very beginning.
Satoru made a promise to you and to himself, to devote his life, strength and efforts to you and your relationship.
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albertasunrise · 3 months
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Hope - Hope I See You Again
Masterlist
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Summary: After Joel loses his wife and your best friend during childbirth. You support him as he takes on parenthood on his own at 22. But when feelings start to develop, you battle with the guilt you feel for falling for your best friend’s husband.
Relationships: Joel Miller x Reader
Warnings: Like AO3 I choose to give none. Read at own risk. 18+… this is to avoid spoilers! (So a longer chapter...Another angst fest but I hope you enjoy. Had most of this written out already hence posting it so quickly after chapter 4, can't wait to heart what y'all think ♥️)
Series Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
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10 years later...
"Sarah!" Joel calls up the stairs as he munches on his toast "Hunny you're going to be late." 
"COMING!" She replied as thumping steps erupted on the landing. 
Joel chuckled as he listened to his daughter clamber down the stairs, smiling when she planted a kiss on his cheek and skipped to the plate of toast he left on the side for her. 
"You're a good father." She said as she ravaged the breakfast he made her. 
"I try to be." 
"You make some for Uncle Tommy?" She asked as her ears perked up at the sound of his truck parking on the drive. 
"Yeah, yeah..." Joel waved her off "Although he's gonna eat me outa house n' home at this rate." 
"Who is?" Tommy asked as he walked into the kitchen, giving his brother a friendly slap on the arm as he passed. 
"You asshole." Joel grumbled, eliciting a snigger from Sarah. 
"Sarah baby... you're gonna miss the bus if you don't leave." Joel said as he eyed the clock. 
"Ah... crap... Okay, gotta go. See ya later Uncle Tommy." She said sweetly as she kissed his cheek before skipping to her father to do the same thing "Still on for tacos tonight?" 
"Wouldn't be Tuesday without them." Joel winked before waving at his daughter as she sprinted out the door. 
"Ready?" Tommy asked as he unceremoniously shoved the last of his toast into his mouth. 
"One of these days, you're gonna choke." He snorted as he pushed himself to his feet "I'm driving today." He said as he snatched up the keys and headed to the garage. 
...
Joel was just finishing up laying the table when Sarah came screaming in. He couldn't understand how she had so much energy despite being at school all day and then soccer practice afterwards. 
"HEY!" She shouted, practically skipping into the kitchen. 
"Hey baby girl, how was your day?" He asked as he grabbed and placed the serving spoon into the bowl of chorizo and potatoes that he'd just finished frying off. 
"Great, do you mind if a friend joins us?" She asked sheepishly, smiling sweetly at him as he turned to see a tall boy beside her. 
He seemed familiar. His dark hair and piercing blue eyes reminded him of someone he used to know. 
"Dad this is Noah." She said sweetly "He's new and his mum wasn't able to get him from school so I said he could come here for dinner and then you could drop him home later?" 
The boy's name made Joel's stomach twist. There was no way this was the boy that had been practically glued to Sarah's side as a toddler. There are plenty of kids with that name. 
"Baby I-" 
"I know I should have asked first but Dad... you always make extra so there will be plenty for all of us." She pleaded with her big brown eyes, knowing that it would win him over. 
"I don't wanna impose Mr Miller, sir." Noah said, his head dropping "I can probably walk home from here." 
"Sit down." Joel grumbled as he motioned to the table with his head, smiling when Sarah kissed his cheek and whispered thanks in his ear. 
He watched as Sarah eagerly dug into the food on the table before noting Noah's hesitance. 
"Dig in son." Joel encouraged and Noah gave him a nervous nod before doing as he was bid. 
Dinner then passed fairly easily. Sarah talked about school and practice as Noah smiled at her enthusiasm. 
"So where are you from Noah?" Joel asked as he wiped his hands on his napkin and grabbed his beer to take a swig. 
"I was actually born here." Noah confessed and Joel's heart sped up a little "My parents moved when I was little. Dad wasn't well and so we moved closer to my grandma." 
"You don't say." Joel replied, his heart in his throat as Noah continued. 
"We moved back here 'cus mum got a job in Austin. Thought it would be good to get a new start after dad..." He trailed off, his eyes growing sad. 
"Perhaps next taco Tuesday you can bring Ali?" Sarah suggested as she gave Noah's arm a friendly squeeze. 
"Ali?" Joel asked and Noah smiled sweetly "Ali's my little sister. Short for Alison." He replied sweetly "Well little ish... She's a few years younger than me." 
"Joel thought he was going to be sick. There was no way this wasn't the Noah he knew as a boy." 
"Dad..." Sarah called but Joel felt like he was drowning, her calls for him muffled like his head was underwater. 
"DAD!" She shouted and he leapt from his skin as he returned his attention to both of them "You okay?" 
"What?" Joel asked as his eyes flitted between the two kids "Oh... Yeah, sorry just uh... Just a long day." 
Noah's cell phone ringing filled the awkward silence that had blanketed the room and when he pulled it out to see who it was, he excused himself to take it. 
"You sure you're okay dad?" Sarah asked as she grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze "You look like you've seen a ghost." 
"Yeah, baby." He replied sweetly, trying his hardest to be convincing "I'm fine." 
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10 years earlier...
"Joel, you need to take it easy man." Tommy pleaded as he pushed his brother back onto the bed "They cut into your fucking skull man." 
"What I need... is to get out of here." Joel grumbled as he let out a frustrated huff. 
"Sarah and I nearly lost you." Tommy choked, his eyes growing glossy as he remembered the last few weeks "We've watched you crash twice... Been told to prepare for the worst more times than I wanna remember... So please, just rest." 
"How are they?" He asked and Tommy sighed "They're doing as well as can be expected." Tommy sighed and Joel nodded "I think the kids have been a great distraction though." 
Joel smiled at that.
"When do you ship out?" Joel asked, changing the subject and Tommy signed "Sunday. Now you're not knocking on death's door, they've decided it's time for me to leave." 
"I'll be okay." Joel promised but Tommy didn't look convinced "I promise."
...
2 weeks later...
Joel watched as you puttered around the house, looking anything but relaxed as you finished clearing up after lunch. He gingerly pushed himself to his feet, wincing when his stitches pulled. 
"Need some help?" He asked as he limped into the kitchen. 
"No." You replied plainly and Joel sighed.
"Please, let me help." Joel pleaded and you growled in frustration. 
"You can help me by sitting the fuck down so you don't pull a stitch." You growled and Joel shrunk back. 
You'd been cold towards him since he got out and Joel couldn't say he blamed you. You were now stuck babysitting him as he recovered from three major surgeries on top of his daughter whom you'd been caring for for almost a month. 
"Please... I just... I want to help." 
"You've done enough Joel." That statement had him shrinking away from you as he nodded. 
"I'm going to check on Sarah." He said quietly as he limped from the kitchen.
"She's sleeping."
Joel didn't reply. Just left you to finish your frantic cleaning as he limped away with his tail between his legs.
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Present day...
"Sorry." Noah said as he stepped back into the room "Was my mum." 
"Everything okay? Sarah asked and Noah nodded. 
"Yeah, just a broken arm." 
"What happened?" Joel asked, his confusion obvious from his expression. 
"Oh, my sister hurt herself during gym." Noah replied "Why mum couldn't grab me... Was up the hospital with her." 
"What about you dad?" Joel asked and Noah grew quiet again. 
"Noah's dad died a few months ago." Sarah pipped up and Joel's eyes almost bugged out of his skull.
"Shit... I'm... Shit I'm so sorry son I-"
"It's fine." Noah assured him as he gave Joel a weak smile "Not like you knew." 
"Do you need me to drop you home?" Joel asked and Noah nodded. 
"If you don't mind." 
Joel gave him a friendly smile before grabbing his truck keys off the side. 
"Come on." 
...
Sarah sat in the back as Noah directed Joel home. He couldn't help but think about the little boy he'd known a decade ago and how he'd grown into this polite young man. Part of him wanted to confess that he and Sarah had been inseparable as kids but until he was sure that he was who he thought he was, Joel needed to keep that information to himself. 
"This is me." Piped up Noah as he pointed at a house with a Large Volvo parked in the drive. 
It was nice. Exactly the sort of house he'd pictured you living in. Pulling up, the porch light flicked on and the door opened, revealing a face that Joel had thought he'd never see again. Time had been kind to you. Your hard was cut to just below the shoulders and wavy and your features had matured but it was unmistakeably you. 
"Thanks, Mr Miller, sir." Noah said as he unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed his pack "Thanks for letting me crash Taco Tuesday." 
"Call me Joel, please." 
Noah gave the older man a shy smile before turning to say goodbye to Sarah. Hopping out the truck, Joel watched as Noah jogged up to you and he smiled as he watched to greet the boy with a hug. He'd known you'd be a natural mum. 
You glanced up at him and his heart stopped. Your eyes locked and he wondered if you'd recognise him too but when you squinted before raising your hand in thanks, Joel realised it was too dark in the cab for you to see him. 
Sarah clambering from the back to the front pulled Joel's attention away from the spot you'd been standing and he chuckled at the inelegant way the 12-year-old dumped herself in the passenger seat. 
"So what do you think of Noah?" She asked as she tried to act casual and Joel snorted. 
"He's a good kid." Joel replied as he pulled away from the curb "How did you guys meet anyway?" 
"He had to redo a year." Sarah replied "Not his fault. His dad was in and out of hospital so he missed a lot of school. When they moved here the school suggested that it would be good for him to redo 5th grade." 
"Do you know what happened to his dad?" Joel asked, trying to sound as inconspicuous as possible. 
"Apparently his dad was in an accident when he was little. Complications from that had him in and out of hospital but a year ago he got real sick and his immune system just couldn't cope." 
Joel once again felt like he was going to be sick. 
He'd had suffered a few long things from the crash. Back pain and headaches being the key ones but nothing following the surgery he'd had. So to learn that Alec had continued to suffer in the 10 years that followed the accident had him wanting to pull over and vomit up the tacos they'd eaten for dinner. 
You must hate him. 
...
"How was your evening hunny?" You asked as you finished unstacking the dishwasher. 
"Was great." He replied with a smile "Made a friend. Sarah Miller." He continued as he placed the plate you handed him in the cupboard "She invited me to join her and her dad Joel for taco Tuesday." 
"Joel Miller?" You asked, your heart hammering against your ribs as your eyes widened. 
"Yeah... You know him?" Noah asked as he turned to face you "Mum?..." 
"Um... Uh, yeah I..." 
Noah's eye caught a glimpse of a photo on the wall that until now he'd never looked at twice. It was of you and his dad with two guys you'd told him were friends from when you'd lived here. He looked more closely and noted how he was gripping the jeans of a man who looked a lot like Joel and then his eyes flitted to the little girl in the man's arms. His eyes widened as he studied her face. 
"This is them... isn't it?" Noah asked as he turned to look at you, pointing at the photo he'd been studying just a moment ago. 
"I was best friends with Joel's late wife." You answered as you sat down at the kitchen table "You and Sarah were inseparable as kids." You chuckled as you remembered how fond of Sarah Noah had been. 
"Why have you never mentioned them before?" 
"Because we fell out of touch." You confessed, "After your dad's accident, things got tense between us." 
"Tense?" Noah pushed "How?" 
"Joel was driving the car that night." You told him "He almost died but when he left the hospital, I blamed him for your dad's condition and so our friendship kinda fell apart." 
"But Dad's car was t-bone by a drunk truck driver." Noah pushed and you sighed.
"I know."
"So it wasn't Joel's fault." 
"No." You choked as you remembered how bad things had gotten "But I blamed him anyway.
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10 years earlier... 
Joel's head was pounding. 
Headaches had been a constant complication from the surgery on his head. Limping into the kitchen, he found you leaning against the counter sipping a cup of coffee as you started out the window across from you. 
If you heard him enter you didn't show it. It had been a week since you'd snapped at him and Joel had done his best to give you space. Even if that meant suffering his increasingly painful headaches but this one was unbearable. 
"Have you seen my pain pills?" He asked as he limped towards you and you shook your head.
"No." 
"Any idea where they could be?" He asked as he tried to rummage through the cupboard for them. 
"No." 
"Please... my head is pounding." He pleaded and that seemed to snap you out of your trance. 
"Oh... You have a headache do you?" You growled condescendingly "Poor Joel's head hurts." 
"Please." Joel pleaded but you were having none of it. 
"Alec is paralysed from the waist down and you want me to keep track of where you put year headache tablets?" You growled and Joel immediately stopped searching. 
"I-"
"The man I love... the father of my unborn child is never going to walk again." You snarled as you slammed down your mug, making Joel flinch from the sound "He's never going to walk again... meanwhile, you get to walk away with no long-term consequences. How is that fair?" 
"I'm so sorry." 
"I don't want your apologies, Joel." You growled, "I just want you out of my life." 
Joel didn't care that you could see his tears. He stood there openly sobbing as you scoffed and turned your back from him.
"I think it's time you left." You said as your hand closed around something in front of you, turning to toss his pain pills at him. 
Joel didn't reply he just nodded. Limping from the kitchen to pack his things. 
He left an hour later. 
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Present day...
Noah had been off with you since the evening he'd learned his history with Sarah and Joel. You felt guilty about how you'd treated Joel all those years ago but you'd been pregnant and lost. You'd hated the fact that your husband had been crippled for life and needed someone to blame. 
You'd blamed Joel. 
You were standing in line waiting for your morning coffee when a familiar voice caught your attention. Looking over your shoulder you saw an older Tommy Miller walking towards the bar. 
He ordered his coffee, paid then walked towards you. Only to stop in his tracks when he spotted you and his smile disappeared. 
"Long time no see." You said when he took a few more tentative steps towards you. 
"Yeah. Been a while." He replied plainly and you flinched at his tone. 
"How have you been?" You asked and he shrugged.
"Left the army. Working for Joel now." He replied and you nodded. 
"How is Joel?" You asked as you accepted your coffee from the barista and thanked them. 
"Do you care?" He growled and your brows pulled together. 
"Oh course... I wouldn't have asked if I didn't." 
"He's fine." Tommy grumbled as he poured a few sugars into his coffee before turning to you "He wasn't the night you kicked him out." 
"Tommy I-" 
"He collapsed after getting out of the taxi that had taken him and Sarah home." He interrupted, his tone ice cold as he turned to face you and leaned in closer "He'd developed another brain bleed and almost died. Ali's parents had to fly out from Canada to take care of Sarah whilst Joel fought for his life for a second time." 
"I didn't know." You choked as your hand flew up to your mouth.
"No..." Tommy trailed off as he scoffed at you "You were just too caught up in your own problems to notice how he'd started to go downhill." 
You didn't get a chance to reply. 
Tommy was out of the door before you could utter a syllable. He just left you standing there feeling terrible about the fact that you had neglected him. You had blamed him for your misfortune and you had pushed him away when he needed you. 
You had to fix this. 
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tojisbbygworl · 10 months
Text
Before I Let Go - Yandere!Miguel O’Hara x Reader
Summary: A grieving woman comes face to face with her thought to be deceased husband and can't find it in her to care about how wrong this was. She missed him. So much.
WARNINGS: Thoughts of Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Words: 4,994
Tags: 18+, 3rd person, Angst, Emotional Smut, Desperation, Grief/Mourning, Yandere, Spying, Kidnapping, Minimal Spanish terms of endearment
author's note: hey y'all. I have another fic for you. I am so glad I finished it it's been sitting in my drafts for a minute. The yandere part of this isn't violent although there is some slight physical pain put on the reader during sex. Just a mention of choking and scratching it's not bad. It's more obsession if anything. Also, I wasn't even gonna try with the Spanish girl. The most he says is carina and hermosa and I know y'all are sick of seeing that atp. I barely even tried with the British for Hobie I'm not about to embarrass myself LMAO
I hope this makes y'all sad honestly I feel like I could have made it sadder but I'm still very happy with it. Anyway, enjoy! 🩵
AO3 version
My AO3
Masterlist
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The buzzing sound of a phone call is all that can be heard in the apartment. It has been a week since the funeral, and Y/N O’Hara hasn’t said a single word. She doesn't even remember what her voice sounds like.
Miguel O'Hara was everything to her. He meant the entire world. She would do anything he asked, but he never asked for much. All he wanted was her love. She was the same with him. A perfect partnership. She felt like she was on top of the universe. And then it was taken away from her. In a fucking car crash, no less.
He was the smartest person she knew. He was the head geneticist at Alchemax after all. He wasn't a stupid driver. No. It was the other driver's fault. But what could she do about it? It was just a kid. A teenager that had just gotten their license, but hadn't taken official driving lessons; no one really drilled into them the severity of texting while driving. How could she really blame them? How could she press charges? Miguel always told her that she was too forgiving. Too understanding.
He was right. But...she also couldn't help but to think it wasn't fair. That her beautiful husband had to die from their actions, and all they had to deal with was an insane insurance increase and a fucked up car that their parents were bound to replace. She would give anything to trade consequences. Anything.
Almost two months since his death, she's been wandering around her apartment frequenting the most common places she and Miguel would cuddle in. She always had a shared blanket, one of his shirts, or a pillow that had his hair on it to squeeze and cry into. If she sprayed it with his cologne and shut her eyes really tight, she could almost imagine he really was there. Almost.
These objects could never replace him. She missed his warmth. She missed his chest pushing her head up and down from his breathing. It would rumble when he chuckled. His hands were so large that her entire back would heat up when he held her gently. He was so tall, 6'6 to be exact, he would completely engulf her whenever they embraced. She felt so safe in his arms. She doesn't feel safe anymore.
Nearly two months of hunching over on the floor of her apartment in pain. She wailed into the ground. Coughing and scratching whatever she could hold onto, because the pain was too much to bare. Oh, the pain. She wouldn't wish this kind of heartbreak on anyone or anything.
The apartment was large, courtesy of his checks. He could already afford it on his own, then, the both of them married just a few years ago and he didn't expect her to pay a dime, despite how much she insisted. Instead, she bought food and handled upkeep. If it got too expensive, then he would chip in. She would have to move out eventually, his remaining income and life insurance the only thing keeping her afloat. Just another thing that she can’t fathom.
It was 3 bed, 2 bath. One was their bedroom, the other was his office, she's been going in there a lot as well, and they always wondered what they would do with the last room. For so long, it was empty even before she moved in with him. He never knew what he could use it for. He had hoped that she would turn it into a hobby room, she loved to paint and she played the violin a little, but there was a beautiful terrace attached to the apartment that she opted for instead and she insisted the living room had the best acoustics so the room remained a mystery. Until last year, when he dropped a bomb on her.
It was an extremely average day for the both of them. They were both home from work, nothing interesting to report, and were deciding what to eat for dinner. She suggests something they could cook, and he agrees. As the night goes on, something seems off about Miguel. He's quiet and zoning out a lot. Something has to be on his mind, right?
"Babe," she calls for him snapping him out of his trance.
"Hm?"
"Everything alright?" She puts her hand on his shoulders and gives him a worried look. Miguel swallows his spit then turns towards her grabbing her hand and placing his on her waist.
"I've been thinking..." His voice is small. She starts to grow anxious as she had never seen him look so timid. He was more nervous than when he asked her to marry him.
"W-What is it?" She stutters. He kisses her knuckles.
"It's just something that I've been wanting for a while now. And if you don't, then It's completely fine. I care about your happiness above everything."
"Miguel, stop being so cryptic and tell me what's up," She half jokes.
He nervously bites his lips and looks away. Then, taking a deep breath, he looks into her eyes and says, "I want to have a kid."
She felt it was best to pretend the work-in-progress nursery didn't exist. In her mind, the room is still empty. There wasn’t a crib set up. The walls weren't in the process of being painted. They didn't have arguments about what to put on it because they didn't know the gender. In fact, gender of what? They weren't planning for a baby. The third room is as empty as she is.
The both of them were foolish, deciding to get everything set up before she got pregnant instead of winging it like everyone else. She should have winged it. Then maybe she would still have a piece of him with her.
It was so fucking hard to focus on what mattered. She was hanging on a thread that thinned out every single day. Before the funeral, she wondered what would be her breaking point? The point where she finally got up and decided to keep going.
The weather was very fitting for that day. The sun was gone, and the rain came in waves. Her tears, however, never stopped. It was a stupid decision to make it open casket. She gazed upon his resting face for the first time since he died in the hospital then turned and ran to the nearest bathroom to empty her stomach. She hadn’t even gotten to say her speech; Miguel’s mother read for her instead.
Something inside her snapped. Sometimes the pain is a dull ache in her chest, and she’s numb everywhere else. Other times it’s a sharp twang that she can feel in her back. She has to lay or sit down when that happens. Sometimes it courses through her entire upper body and she can’t even move. But this…this stabbing, twisting, and searing pain that ripples through her heart and travels to the tip of her fingers and toes…she hasn’t felt this before.
This was the breaking point, but it did the opposite. She didn’t talk for the rest of the day, her and his family begging her to stay with them. She didn’t listen.
It was nights like tonight that she felt completely alone. She knew she wasn’t, if she just picked up the phone and texted someone, then maybe she would be okay. She just needed to stop looking at the ceiling, turn to her nightstand, pick up her phone, and call her mother. But it was 1 in the morning, and Miguel looked so happy in her lock screen picture…
Her and Miguel had been up here on the top of the apartment building so many times before. They liked to dance, he would watch her play or paint, they had picnics together, it was perfect when they wanted to get out of the apartment, but still have some privacy.
The view was nice. They could see across the entirety of Nueva York. Central Park in the fall was especially amazing to gaze upon. But now it fills her with grief. As she steps on top of the edge, she decides that if this couldn’t make her feel better, then nothing could.
She’s glad she’s doing this in the middle of the night, where no one could see her and call for help. She was sure that she would traumatize a couple people when morning came, a problem that she couldn’t be bothered by. She was ready to be back in his arms. So she walked off. And closed her eyes as she plummeted through the air.
She’s scared. But excited. She only has to feel excruciating pain for a second and then never again. It’s almost over.
She hits something, or more so, something hits her. She’s still flying through the air, but it’s different now. There’s a warm body holding onto her for dear life, and she’s soaring upwards into the night sky. Opening her eyes to gaze at her savior, she sees a masked silhouette. It-it’s Spider-Man…but he looks completely different. She can barely see him, the only source of light being the moon, but she could swear that this wasn’t his mask.
They land on the rooftop again and he puts her down. She crawls away from him, embarrassed and ashamed at what she’s done. She was still alive and now she was in more pain than ever before. Wailing on the floor, she glared up at him in vitriol.
“Why did you save me?” She yelled, her voice powerful for a woman who hadn’t been verbal for a week. Spider-Man didn’t answer. She wasn’t even sure if he was looking at her. “I didn’t want to be saved.” Still, he said nothing. So she continued to cry, and she cried harder and harder until she felt a sensation on her back.
He was trying to comfort her, but when she turned he backed off, holding his hands up instead. Her lips quivered, then she threw herself into his arms. His hold on her body was snug and comforting. Her anger for him dissipates immediately as she accepts his affection. For the first time in a while, she felt safe. She didn’t want him to let go.
And he didn’t. He stayed until she fell asleep in his arms. Then, he picked her up, gazing upon her peaceful face with the light from the inter dimensional portal, then walked into it with no intention of coming back.
~
This wasn’t her room.
She sat up in the bed and took in her surroundings. These weren’t her sheets, that wasn’t her wallpaper, the blinds were different, the floor wasn’t carpeted, everything even the floor plan of the room was different. This isn’t her home.
Her heart begins to pound. Where was she? She was still in her clothes, but that’s the only comfort that she had. Immediately, she shoots out of the bed, the comforter tangling in her feet making her fall onto the floor. The large thump that her fall makes scares her. She stays on the floor, still and quiet as a mouse. There's no noise for a couple seconds. Then, the sound of someone walking.
She hyperventilates, quickly removing herself from the blanket and standing up. But she realizes that she has no where to go. There's a small closet in the room, and space under the bed, but those the only hiding spaces she can think of. And the footsteps were getting closer. What can she do, she wonders as she backs into the wall.
The door swings open. And her heart stops.
Miguel stared at his wife's variant in concern and turns on the light. The woman blinks and shields her eyes, but the bewildered look that she sported quickly comes back. "What happened?"
When he spoke, she gasped and took another step back. She smacked her hand over her mouth. Her eyes glistened with tears, her breath shuddered. "You're alright?" Miguel asked her again. She didn't answer.
For what felt like the longest time, they just stared at each other. He was afraid of approaching her thinking he may scare her away. She was in completely disbelief at what she was seeing. Miguel raised his hands and stayed near the door way. "Please, don't freak out," he began.
She let out a sob, tears escaping her eyes when she did. Placing her hand on her chest, she lifts herself from the wall. Miguel takes this as a sign to keep going.
"I know you must be confused. You're probably upset and angry. I understand." She took a step forward. "But if you would just left me explain..." Another step. Then another. And another. And she held her hand out in front of her. As she approached him, he realized how badly she was trembling, and it only got worse the closer she got. But still, she moved forward.
The speech Miguel had been practicing before she woke up died in his throat. He was speechless as he watched her courageously close the space between them. When she finally stood right in front of him, she hesitated. He could hear her soft gasps and cries. Then finally, she softly touched his chest. He looked down at her hand, then up at her face. Even though she was crying profusely, she looked upon him in wonder. He just wants to reach out and grab her, but he holds himself back.
She begins to rub his chest and torso, appalled by his presence. He looks back down at her hands. Then, they trail themselves up to his neck, stopping right under his chin. He lifts his head up. They both hold their breath for a second. Then, with a gasp from her, and a sigh from him, she finally touches his cheek. Miguel closes his eyes and leans into her palm. He lifts his arm up, and encases her hand in his, keeping it in place.
Her lips begin to move. With a tiny shaky breath, she whispers, "It's you."
Miguel's face is troubled. He has a small frown and his eyebrows were upturned. He twists his head in her palm to give it a small kiss.
Her eyes flicker all over his body. It is him...but he's different. He's taller now. His build is thicker and he feels tense. Miguel was a gym buff, but this man...this kind of definition is not built in the gym. His frown is deep, and so are his wrinkles. His eyes were more troubled than hers, and had the slightest hint of red. And his teeth...she could feel his sharp canines with her thumb.
"No," she realizes. "It's not you."
Miguel opens his eyes and stares at her. He can see the fear growing on her face, and he starts to panic. He moves his hand to her wrist to hold it gently. But he's prepared to squeeze it if she tries to run. "I'm not him. But-"
"But you look like him." She continues, her voice on the precipice of hysteria. "And you sound like him." She holds both of his cheeks and caresses his face with her thumbs. "And you feel like him..."
Miguel winces as he watches her cry louder and louder with every observation. "Cariña, please," He takes her hands off of his face and kisses her knuckles. She completely breaks down crying. Miguel reaches his arms out, and she throws herself into his chest, sobbing into his neck. "You don't have to cry anymore. I'm here now."
"But who are you?" Her voice muffled by his shoulder.
He gulps. "...I am Miguel, but-"
"But you're not my Miguel, are you?" She lifts her head up to stare at him. She looked anguished, her brain not being able to process what was going on. He doesn't answer. "Did you save me?" He nodded. "Why?"
"I had to, baby. I-"
"Where did you come from?" She pushes herself off of him, and Miguel can't find it in him to hold her there. He let's go of her, knowing that there is no where she can really run where he won't find her. "No, where have you been?"
He furrows his brows and tilts his head. "What?"
"Where the hell have you been?" She screams at him in unbridled rage. Her tears were never ending, and her glare was fierce. "I was in fucking agony when you died. I couldn't live with myself. I couldn't get over you. I didn't want to. I missed you so much." Her anger turned into desperation and she falls to her knees on the floor, weeping into her hands. Miguel looks on in desolation, his eyes filling with tears as well. He walks to her and leans down, trying to get her to stand. She flips her head up at him. "Who are you?"
"Please, let me explain." He sits on the floor with her, holds her face and leans into it. She doesn't pull away, instead, she kisses him first, her cries never ending. Her hands tangle themselves in his hair. Miguel wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her into him. He sits back and pulls her into his lap.
The kiss lasts until they run out of breath, then they pull away, panting in each others' faces. "I...am Miguel." He starts. "But not your Miguel. And you are not my Y/N."
She shakes her head and scrunches up her face. "Just listen." Her mouth closes again, and she relaxes preparing herself to take in every word he says...
...Miguel spent a lot of time watching her. His Y/N, across the multiverse. In each one, they are together. It's fate. And in every one...she dies. No matter what that universe's Miguel does, she dies. That must be fate, too. Then he found a universe where that didn't happen. He died instead. He took a chance, and when he replaced himself he was the happiest he had ever been. And then everything was destroyed. An entire universe...gone. He swore to never interfere with fate again. He whispered a soft 'sorry' to every Miguel he found after that.
He saw her, Y/N on Earth - 548. Happy as ever with her devilishly handsome husband. He felt for him. He had no idea the heartbreak he was about to experience. But, for the second time in his studies, he was the one who died. He cried, knowing that he could never do anything about it. When she became a shell of her former self, he focused all of his attention on her. Putting all of his work on Jess and Peter, he monitored her. He watched her cry, she spent all of her time off from work at home rolling around in her bed as if the emotional pain was so strong that it was physical as well. He watched her touch herself at night, whispering his name into the empty air, him joining her from where he was spying groaning her name as well, wishing his cum was dripping from her cunt instead of down his hand. He called for her, hoping that his prayers to keep her safe would reach who ever was listening. They didn't.
He knew that when she sat up like a ghost from her bed that fateful night, she was about to do something rash. He held his hand over his watch, ready to jump as soon as he felt he needed to. When she began to walk to the edge, he decided to not even risk it and hopped into the portal.
He didn't expect her to turn and scream at him the way she did. He hadn't heard her beautiful voice for some time, he missed it so much, and the first thing she did was yell at him. He was stunned. He couldn't believe she was right in front of him. He looked at his watch. No indication of a canon event. There was nothing. Which meant...she was never supposed to die.
He was impulsive, he knows that. But, it worked out in his favor. She was supposed to be alive. He had done right. And now he had a decision to make. Does he leave her here to figure everything out on her own, or does he take her with him...and let her family think she's dead…
“You were watching me?”
Miguel refuses to meet her eyes. She didn’t move, but he tightened his grip around her just in case. Her voice was wavering.
When he didn’t answer, she continued. “Why didn’t you save him?”
He looked up at her that time. Above everything else, she was melancholy. “I couldn’t.”
“Why?”
“I just couldn’t, mi amor. You don’t understand.”
With her face contorted in pain, she released a choked sob. Her mouth was hung open. If she chose to believe this imposter, than hearing that nothing could have been done about the love of her life brought her no comfort. It wasn’t fair.
She gripped Miguel’s shirt letting her head fall forward into his chest. He held her for a long time while her shoulders shook. “Please, believe me.”
She doesn’t say anything, but her cries stopped. He began to worry, but she soon lifted her head up and looked into his eyes. His flicked back and forth between hers, and the both of them dive into another passionate kiss. This time, they don’t let up from each other. It gets more intense. Miguel’s breath picks up as his hands begin to explore her back and waist. She pushes her body up against his, rubbing their chests together.
She’s the one who pulls away opting to kiss down from his cheek to his neck. “Just come to bed with me. Please?” She begs into his skin.
Miguel, in a daze, whispers “Okay.”
He lifts her up and lays her down onto his bed, kissing her sweetly as he climbed on top of her. He felt so much bliss, he never imagined he would be able to do this again.
The way she grabbed his face made him never want to physically leave her side again. This was where he wanted to stay for the rest of their lives. She kissed him with so much despair, so much need, how could he ever leave her mouth? But, the strain in his pants and the grip she had on his back get worse, and he finds a reason to pull away.
She whimpers, missing the way his tongue caressed her mouth, leaving her lips swollen and shiny. Her eyes open, silently asking him where he was going, until he reached under the hem of her shirt and lifts it off of her, exposing her beautiful breasts. She gasps when he begins to rub his hand between them, eventually grabbing one to hold and play with. Miguel grins at her while she watches him rub his thumb across her hardened nipple. Which turned into her watching him dip his head down to her sternum and leave the smallest, lightest kiss.
The restraint he had on himself as he trailed his mouth down her body was unnatural. His claws had long since come out, ripping into the bedsheets as he tried so hard not replace them with her luscious hips. She was responding unbelievably well, making him happy he didn’t listen to Lyla tell him how terrible of an idea this was.
Lyla was wrong, he told himself when he heard her soft cry as his tongue played with her nipple. She began to squirm from frustration, and he just had to push his hips in between her open legs, the heat from his dick making her rub her wet panties along his shaft. Miguel moaned with her nipple fully inside his mouth, her moaning with him from the vibration against her chest.
She’s not scared of me, he thought as he leaves her nipple and kisses down her body. His lips finally met up with her panties, opting to push them to the side instead of taking them off completely. He places a kiss on her sensitive clit, his precum staining his underwear when she yelps. Miguel takes a moment to look at her glistening pussy, then he closes his eyes when he finally licks it.
And she doesn’t hate me. Miguel looks drunk when he starts eating her out. His eyebrows are raised and he gently placed her hand on her spread thigh, caressing the soft skin. Her whines making him even more desperate to please her, he presses his tongue into her center harder. His lips are covered with her fluid. Miguel gives her thigh a nice squeeze, then a slap, then he stands up straight.
When she opens her eyes to look at him, her heart races. His eyelids were low, and he towered over body making her feel smaller than she was. His stare was filled with infatuation, wiping off his lower face with one swipe of his large hand. Without breaking eye contact, he rips his shirt off and swipes his pants and underwear down, his large member bouncing back up. Miguel spit into his palm and started jerking himself off. Then, he climbs onto the bed, aligning his hips with hers.
He drools onto her pussy, her shuddering as his spit meets her clit and runs down her lips. It does well to lube her up with Miguel rubbing his tip in between her folds. “Ngh…fuck,” he mutters, the feeling of her wet cunt on his sensitive head giving him a feeling of euphoria.
She grew impatient, while Miguel was trying to take his time and savor her, she was ready to feel him split her apart. This was something she’s been dreaming about since she lost him. She waited for the day his naked body would engulf hers, his face on her cheek whispering filthy insults and sweet praises into her ear. As she remembers how sex used to be with her love, she starts to tear up.
“Miguel,” she whined making him look at her worriedly. When his eyes open, the red she noticed before is even more prominent. His mouth was opened slightly so she could barely see his fangs. How he could look so similar yet so different from her Miguel, she doesn’t know.
“Yes?” He asks her.
“Please, I can’t wait any longer. I want…” She moves her hips on him again. Miguel looks down at their hips and holds hers still.
He doesn’t respond, just pushes his length into her slowly. He grunts as he sheathes himself inside her warmth, reveling in her cries. “Shit, baby.” She’s tight and squeezing him so nicely, he can’t stop until he's inside of her fully.
She’s breathing heavily with her head thrown back and her eyes closed. Her back is arched lifting her naked chest into the air. “Look at me,” Miguel commands. She lifts her head up giving him what he wanted. Her eyes are filled with tears. It hurts, but feels so good. She missed him so much, and now they were one again.
Miguel whimpers at her beautiful face. “Hermosa,” he reaches out to her cheek to hold it. “Don’t cry.”
“But I love you,” she tells him.
He gasps. His hand lifts from her face. Freezing, he stares into her eyes in disbelief. “W-What?”
She takes his hand and brings it to her lips, leaving a gentle smooch. Her eyes close and the tears fall. “I love you, Miguel.”
His eyesight gets blurry as well, and soon Miguel is crying profusely. “Oh, baby,” he leans over her and pulls his hips backwards. Then he slams himself back down, making her yelp. She grabs his face and kisses him. “I love you too.”
As Miguel fucks her slowly, neither of them can find it in them to stay quiet. Miguel has to tell her how terribly in love with her he is. She has to let him know how much she missed him. He leans into her neck and whispers how he missed her too, and to stop crying because he’s here now. Even though, he can’t stop crying either.
She’s so happy to hear that he will never leave her side. She decides to believe him, accepting happiness instead of reality. She ignores his red eyes, his sharp fangs that press against her neck, as if he can barely hold himself back from biting her. She ignores how different the rumbling in his chest is from her Miguel. It’s not soft or sweet nor does it make her content. This one is predatory and dangerous, it makes her nervous.
She dismisses the way he grabs her neck; tight, leaving her with no air, whereas her Miguel knew that she didn’t like it rough. Honestly, neither did he. This Miguel went faster and harder. He grunted into her ear. But, she doesn't care.
She completely ignores how different this Miguel was. Her wishes were answered. She got him back. It doesn’t matter that his hold on her hip was so strong that he’s scratching her. That he didn’t stop or slow down when she came making her overstimulated. She let him cum inside her soon after, knowing that she wasn’t on anything.
“I miss you so fucking much,” she wailed when he slipped his dick out of her, his cum following suit and staining the bed beneath her.
Instead of getting a warm towel, Miguel laid down next to her and pulled her into his arms silencing her cries. “I told you baby, I’m right here.” But she doesn’t correct herself. She doesn’t calm down. She grips him for dear life and Miguel grows nervous.
Lyla was wrong…right?
“You know she will never love you the way she loved him. It will never be the same. Miguel...are you listening?”
“Lyla…shut down.”
ending a/n: Heyyyyy, did y'all like it? This will definitely not be my only Miguel fic but rn I don't really have any ideas for him. My brain is filled with thoughts of Hobie, and I need to stop neglecting my baby daddy Toji, lmao. So I'll be working on a real quick Hobie imagine and my AO3 stories as well for now. Unless I think of something else. I've been thinking about requests but I will fuck around and make a whole story from it cuz idk how to stop writing so damn much. Y'all I rly dk if I want to make another part to JFTN I rly like how it ended and I can't rly think about how I would continue it. Y'all might just have to deal idk girl. I love ya though! Anyway, I'll see y'all in the next story!🩵
AO3 version
My AO3
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taffybear · 3 months
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random list of my bay Leo headcanons ❤
working on Raph next! let's see how many ideas i get lol
also opening my inbox for writing (and perhaps even drawing) requests! feel free to drop me an ask <3
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literally loves mitski and mac demarco. he likes very indie hopeless romantic type music, it's literally hilarious to catch him just vibing in his feels
SECRETLY HAS PINTEREST BAHAHAHAHA but just for finding poetry and looking at bonsai trees. Mikey found out (like he doesn't have pinterest too??) and they all ended up making fun of him for it to the point where Leo debated deleting the app but ended up forgetting about it.
very specific but he has this unique type of love language where he'll ask you something and without any further questions he will go get or accomplish whatever he hinted at. for example, y'all will just be hanging out, and he'll go, "are you hungry?" and if you just as much nod your head hesitantly he will run to the kitchen and make you a 3 course meal. or, he'll just ask you if you're cold, and if you say yes he brings you a heater and a blanket. he doesn't ask things like, "can i get you a water?" he'll just ask if you're thirsty and go from there.
has the most gorgeous handwriting on the planet. this beautiful cursive print that is lowkey unreadable but so aesthetically pleasing. at first you were shocked but as you got to know him it made lots of sense, literally probably his biggest hobby is just remembering some random thing and then spending weeks straight perfecting it until it's natural for him. he loves to challenge himself to be perfect at literally anything, and his hand writing is one of those instances.
HE'S LITERALLY A VIRGO GUYS HE IS THE DEFINITION OF A VIRGO OH MY GOD
speaks fluent japanese OF COURSE but his brothers don't know it as well as he does (they all know a little at least) and he'll curse them out quietly in japanese behind their backs.
Leo wouldn't say he had a favorite brother of course but he definitely prefers Don's presense over the others. they always go to each other first when they have a problem or just want to rant, and they have a bunch of inside jokes.
after Donnie, Leo's the biggest insomniac. he gets nightmares a lot unfortunately, and most times when he wakes up he physically can't go back to sleep. literally Mikey will get up for a glass of water at 5:37 in the morning and Leo is up doing flips.
very random, but Leo is AWFUL at math. he meant to learn at some point but the time passed and he missed the boat. ofc math is Don's second language and Mikey and Raph couldn't care less (but somehow Mikey always guesses the right answers without doing the correct work??) but Leo is lowkey embarrassed that he struggles with it so much. he can do basic math and most things that come up in daily life like practical equations, but anything past times tables and division he is cannot understand. if you come over and need help on your math homework he will try his HARDEST to help you but ultimately he's completely clueless.
always takes bugs outside. if the creepy crawly is creepy enough or makes you screech, he'll whip it with his katana but normally he'll take the time to scoop it up in his hands (literally no fear) and walk it outside calmly.
literally LOVES doing chores. it's like a form of self care for him. folding laundry, sweeping, mopping, washing the dishes, organizing the dojo, he'll literally put on some music and go to town. when he visits you he will literally just start straightening things up and picking things off of the floor. he hates having nothing to do so he'll just ask for something he can clean while y'all chit chat.
incredibly flexible. he can bend every which way, sit comfortably in a split for hours, can bend over IN HALF and grab the back of his legs--he's literally maxed out on flexibility. but splits training is his private time so unless you sneak you won't catch a glance. but when you do, in between of sliding dojo doors, it is... something. like excuse me sir how tf doesn't that hurt your bAWLLS
smells like lavender. dead serious his signature scent is lavender. it's not like he wears cologne or anything, he just lights a lot of lavender incense and candles to the point where if someone even steps foot in his room they walk out aroma-fied.
everyone in the fandom has their personal opinion of who's the best cook and who's the worst cook of the four, and it is finally time for my hot take of the century. i think Leo is by far the best chef, and Raph is the one who can't even make toast right. a lot of people say Mikey is the chef of the family, which i agree with, he enjoys cooking and baking very much, but this doesn't mean the food he makes is good 💀💀💀 he trusts himself over any recipe and so he just throws in whatever he feels like. Leo can't stand being in the kitchen while Mikey is cooking, his ocd can't stand it. this said, you'd think this would mean the guys prefer Leo's cooking over Mikey's but fact is Leo is such a perfectionist he will spend hours working on a meal it's past 11 by the time he's done. and he doesn't take requests, he only makes what he wants and then on top of that the healthnut version. he makes sushi a lot and goes crazy when you bring him salmon.
IS SUCH A DORK BAHAHAHA if you even so much MENTION a book or a show he likes he will blabber for HOURS about it. he knows every single fact there is to know about star trek it is insane. you amuse him not because you're interested of course but he is just so damn adorable when he's talking about something he enjoys (which he rarely gets the chance to without being made fun of LMAO)
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findafight · 1 year
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Ohhh fic where Steve and Robin and Dustin and Erica all casually make funny little haha jokes with each other about getting tortured/almost caught by the Russians under Starcourt because they all have that shared trauma and had many a long late night calls reassuring each other they're alive and playing dnd together and fulfilling lifetime supply of icecream obligations.
They do this because sure the rest of the party knew there were Russians under Starcourt but everything they went through in that basement was sorta...forgotten in the aftermath of literal flesh monster. And with Hopper dead and the Byers moving, there's so much happening that whatever happened to Steve's face (lost another fight...) and why he and Robin went from mildly antagonistic co-workers to codependent goobers who couldn't go literally a day without seeing the other or what made Dustin always ask if Erica was going to come for party hang outs are all sort of brushed under the rug. Not a big deal, really. Bigger things happening after everything.
And they cope together and scoops troop is a weird little section of the party no one but them really understands. Robin and Steve are attached at the hip and to a lesser extent so are Erica and Dustin (but they'll never admit it), and they all have mini gatherings together.
So, the casual mentioning of starcourt and specifically what went down with the Russians is commonplace for them. (Erica is quick to remind them she saved their asses, and are they so lame they need her help again? but she smiles and Steve and Robin just laugh and give her a big hug.) And somehow, they forget that not everyone really knows what went down before July 4th 1985.
And I want them to do it in front of everyone. I want them to have their stupid "this was so fucked up but we're alive and we got through it so now we have to laugh or we may never stop crying about it" banter at a big "we saved the world again!" Barbecue. I want the rest of the folks there to go silent and them not to notice.
I want someone to mention Steve not getting a black eye this time, congrats! and Robin going "the only reason why I didn't get one last time was because the Russians said-"
And Steve, who is lying with his head in her lap, reaches up to gently cup her cheek and says in a terrible Russian accent "don't worry, we will not ruin your pretty face!" (everyone is quiet around them, they do not notice)
She laughs. "And punched me in the gut a few more times. I peed blood for like, three days."
Steve goes "ewwww" only to be pinched by robin.
"you peed blood too, dingus. You got it worse than me and my pretty face."
He giggles and opens his hand up for a high five "pissing blood buddies, hell yeah!" And shifts in her lap. "But they bruised my pretty face. Rude."
"aww. It's okay, Stevie, your face is still so pretty. Prettiest boy in Hawkins."
"thanks Robin."
"at least Dustin and Erica got us out before they started ripping out fingernails." She shudders.
"or used the bonesaw"
"mmm. Unfortunately not before we got funky truth serum drugs though."
He leans up, looking at the two "y'all couldn't have been a bit faster?" But he's smiling, teasing. A well worn joke.
Dustin and Erica respond simultaneously with "I'm missing bones, Steve, what do you want from me?" And "I was ten and my legs were short as shit. Beggars can't be choosers." Respectively.
It is at this point an Actual Grown Up butts in.
"what. What do you mean ripping out fingernails?"
Robin and Steve look towards Joyce, who asked.
"like. To interrogate us? Because we just kept saying we worked for scoops even with the truth serum."
"because they thought we had to be superspies to get into their creepy lair and not a bunch of kids."
"mmhmm"
Hopper jumps in "wait. You were tortured by them?"
Robin and Steve give him eerily similar looks that express how obvious the answer to that is.
"yeah, duh."
"I don't go looking to get brain damage every year, you know."
Hoppers eye twitches. "Why didn't you say anything?"
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gavisuntiedboot · 11 months
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Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)
Part 8
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue
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Warnings: ANGST! Idk if it's actually that angsty but I made myself sad. Very very brief mentions of kind of hurting yourself but not really? I actually can't remember what I wrote so if I miss something that needs a warning pls lmk
Word Count: 16.0k (fun fact: if you've read the whole series, you've read 105 pages single space)
A/N: y'all it's literally almost 1 am but I need to start this before I get crucified by the cult following I have created with this series. GIF credit @gavidaily
"You... are considering leaving Barca?"
Xavi looked at you with one brow raised. The same girl that had been fighting for her position at the club just 6 weeks prior was now thinking of quitting her job?
"You know Miss y/l/n, we are about to lose Antonio, and with how hard we push our players, we need to retain the largest amount of medical talent possible. You know that we think extremely highly of you and your ability, which is why you were selected specifically for this role. What can we do to make the job here at Barça more compelling than that of other clubs?”
You took a deep breath. You knew this question was coming. You had worked jobs and been in negotiations before. It would be a lot more expensive for them to hire someone new than to just give in to what they predicted would be a demanded increase in pay.
You looked at your lap, sighing with the weight of the feelings you had carried for God knows how long. It had sat on your subconscious, but was now bubbling to the surface, too powerful to be stopped. “Honestly, mister, I don’t think there’s anything that can be done.”
There’s a funny thing about women letting go. Some people call it the severance theory. Men are heavily guided by their emotions, contrary to popular belief. In a fit of rage they are capable of anything: screaming, blows - any number of crimes of passion. So when an extreme emotion overcomes them, be it sadness or anger or fear, they can end a relationship suddenly. Once they return to a base state of logic, that’s when the crawling back and groveling begins. Because they come to realize that her absence is a stronger pain than whatever drove him away. They exist in binary states: zeroes and ones. Either hatred or love. They don’t understand gradients or in-betweens. They don’t understand that there is another person who must also decide to return to the relationship.
Women on the other hand are much more resilient. It’s why we find the most gorgeous muses with the slimiest excuses for boyfriends. A woman will fall in love not with what she sees, but rather what she hears. What she is told. All the flowery, lovely promises about a glowning future, that’s what she clings to in the midst of a gray and bleak present. The soft whispers of “I love you” and “I don’t know how I would live without you” act as bandages, plugging the gaping wounds left by his actions. But her resolve slips the longer those promises go unfulfilled. The longer those holes go unfilled. She begins to see the truth of her situation, and realizes that the road she’s skipped down is a dead end. She imagines once again. She thinks of all the possible ways that he could change and be the man she wants. She searches for glimpses of it in his words, his movement, his aura. She does the silliest, most foolish thing a woman can do: she hopes. She holds on until not even her delusions can be a comfort. She realizes that there is no way for her to be happy with this man. That’s when she finally leaves. There’s no groveling, no tears, no remorse. It’s a clean severance of dead weight. She’s empty, and it lightens her being enough for her to walk away. There is no way to save it. The bridge has been burned and she was gone forever.
The funny part was, this didn’t just apply to men. That’s the thing about emptiness: it consumes everything. Loneliness is a black hole that swallows every ray of light that it encounters. That was your life recently. No light and no joy - not even sadness. You couldn’t feel anything strongly anymore. You picked up little habits to try and feel. You heated your food to scalding temperatures just to feel the heat on your lips. Your showers were icy, the pinpricks distracting you from the desire to cry. You no longer felt strong anger or desire or really anything. The color was slowly draining from your life, grays and sepias replacing the once vibrant existence around you. The beauty around you had mangled into gnarly trees and threatening uncertainty as you foolishly waited for the sun to peak through. But it had abandoned you. The sun had taken its rays and warmth elsewhere, almost mocking you as you shivered in the dirt. So maybe it was time to crate your own light: burn down the forest and start anew.
“Nothing? La, that can’t be true Doctora.”
Your eyes shot up at the title. There was, in fact, one feeling that you still sensed: pain. You could still feel physically pain, and inflicted it on yourself often just to experience an emotion. But nothing could compare to the sharp stabs and dull aches that lived in your heart. It was hard to look at Gavi without feeling like you wanted to fall on your knees. Realizing that you were in love was not beautiful or romantic. It was torturous, like snakes and thorns taking home in your throat. Reality was the salt in the wound; the knowledge that you two were destined to fail before you had began was a pill too big to swallow, suffocating you instead.
“If I can be honest, mister, I don’t feel like I belong here at Barça. I’ve been here for six months and I still don’t feel like part of the team. Maybe it’s just not a good environment or fit for me. That’s not something that can be fixed with just a salary increase. I just can’t tell if this is the place for me.”
Xavi looked at you, bringing his elbows to rest on the table and interlocking his fingers. He wanted to adamantly refuse, but there was truth to what you said. It was evident that there was a disconnect between you and the general environment of the team. You were close to some of the younger players, but had difficulty gaining the trust and respect of the older crowd and the medical staff. Your ideas for treatment were too modern - too far removed from what everyone else was used to. Hell, you were upsetting one of his players, and that was the opposite of your job as the support staff. But he would by lying if he said you weren't effective. The plan for Dembele that you had first presented got the striker back on the field weeks earlier than any other predictions. Your diligent maintenance had prevented players from getting injured as often, keeping the ones you were closest to on a strict exercise regimen, ensuring their continuous improvement. He cared for his players and his club. And if you were the miracle cure to keeping them healthy and playing, then he was going to keep you there, even if he had to tie you to the columns of Camp Nou.
"There must be something we can do to keep you. You're very familiar with the players and the equipment, as well as the workflow, and you're very good at your work. Hell, Gavi hasn't even had a cough since you started here, and he's quite accident-prone. Please let me know what I can possibly do to keep you with us."
"I really am not being shy or sneaky. I really have no demands. When then team heads to the UK for the game against Man U, I will visit the Chelsea facility and meet the staff. If I like what I see, I'll be moving there. I'm just... not happy here anymore."
There it was. The confession you had not even made to yourself. You were at the club of your dreams, living everything that your younger self had always wanted, and you just could not be happy. This was a disappointment that was hard to describe. Everyone always talks about shooting for the moon, but no one talks about what happens when you actually make it there. You work hard and your dreams become a reality: you're on the moon! But the moon is so, so far from Earth. And when you're cold and lonely and looking down on all of the people that could be loving you, then the moon doesn't seem so worth it anymore. When you realize the moon is just a rock, then what hope do you have left?
Thinking back, you recalled all the people that you pushed away to further your career goals. You think of the family gatherings and events that you missed to study and work. You think of all the friends you have lost touch with because they were never a priority. They were never smart or driven enough to keep up with you, and so they were left in the dust. You had a few, but none you could confidently say would pick up a call from you at 2am if you needed help. Boyfriends were even worse. Since your heartbreak in college, men had fallen to the wayside. You justified it to yourself, saying that you just needed to be successful, and you would attract someone at your level. Someone who wanted an equal. But here you were: alone, depressed, and thinking of running away from what you once thought was your life's purpose.
Before Xavi could respond, a loud thud from the hallway distracted the two of you, followed by shouts that chilled your blood.
"Gavi!"
You were out of your seat in seconds. There was no force that could stop you, feet and hands moving on their own accord as you entered the hall and laid eyes on the body on the floor. There was no air in your lungs or your larynx to make a sound, let alone scream.
Why was Gavi on the floor?
Your hearing was shot, like you were underwater. The faces of those surrounding were panicked, and all eyes were on you, shouts and points and calls for action flying straight over your head.
Why was Gavi on the floor?
Your stomach was twisting itself into elaborate knots, coiling tighter while pushing the bile further up your throat. Your eyes went in and out of focus, willing the scene in front of you to disappear. You blinked hard hoping for the image to change when your eyes opened again.
Why was Gavi on the floor?
"Doctora, please look at Pablo - he collapsed suddenly and we need to make sure he doesn't have a head injury. Move!" It was Antonio's hands on your shoulders and shouts that finally got you to move from your frozen position.
Kneeling over, Gavi looked even worse. His skin was pale, and he was crumpled like an aluminum can - limbs everywhere, like his life force had just abandoned him. You had to remove Gavi from the situation and pretend he was a practice dummy at school. You had to pretend he was plastic and rubber, because that's the only way you could go through head injury protocols with a calm mind. He couldn't be Pablo, because if he was, then the thought would have to fester in your head: Pablo was hurt when you had been distant. He was hurt because you had been distant. Worst case scenario, he could disappear from your life now, all because you hadn't been able to handle the proximity like a normal person. Your thoughts were spiraling now, painting scenarios of death and disease and making it even harder for you to stop the tremble in your hands.
But you had decided that his cold heap of flesh before you wasn't Gavi. It couldn't be. It wasn't even a person. You recited the head injury checklist under your breath: consciousness, breathing, vision, vomiting. Placing a hand on Gavi's neck, you felt a pulse, stopping you from performing CPR. The last thing you needed to do was unnecessarily crack a rib. You shook him several times, and received no response.
"Shine a light in his eyes!" "Shake him harder!" "Should we pour water on him? Get some water!" "You're not yelling his name loudly enough!"
You ignored the shouts of the peanut gallery, repeating the list like a mantra in your head. You would have time later to be angry at the staff for their utter uselessness in the situation, but right now, you just needed to keep going. Blood was pounding in your ears as you opened one of his eyelids. Consciousness, breathing, vision, vomiting. It snapped back into place, and Pablo's face was now in view. Other than his pale complexion, he looked perfectly at peace. His face was identical to the night you had spent sleeping next to him - sleeping atop him. His breathing was deep, as if he had spontaneously fallen asleep in the middle of the hallway. He was beautiful. And for the first time in days, it had allowed you to be filled with a warmth somewhat foreign to you now. Pablo was in your arms and beautiful, and you could not imagine how you were meant to go on with life seeing him every day and being denied this privilege. You didn't allow yourself to dwell on the thought. Breathing? Yes. Consciousness? No. That needed to be remedied.
"Pablo, if you can wake up now, it would be really helpful. Otherwise I'm going to have to cause you a lot of pain."
You waited for a response, but none came. You sighed deeply, moving your hands from the supple skin of his cheeks downwards, gripping the hem of his shirt and pulling it upwards, exposing the expanse of his chest. You made out the sounds of taunting and whistles, but they were promptly silenced by staff who reminded the crowd that this was not an appropriate moment for jokes. Forming a fist, you placed your knuckles on the center of Pablo's chest, pushing down and rubbing. Hard. His eyes shot open within seconds, and he threw your hand off, howling in pain. His breathing was shallow and panicked, vision erratic as teammates, coaches, and other staff all yelled questions and instructions at him.
"Everybody shut up! Let me do my job."
That was the voice he needed to hear. As the yells settled to murmurs, his breathing slowed and he began to see more clearly. His eyes fully focused on you, and it soothed the ache in his chest. His heart was racing faster than he had ever felt, causing Pablo to grab onto your shoulders to ground himself.
"Pablo, can you hear me?"
You were here. You were real. He could still hold you and feel you. He nodded slowly, not trusting himself to speak. The nausea that he had felt before he blacked out still lingered, and the last thing he wanted to do was projectile vomit on you. He flinched slightly at the feeling of your hand returning to his face, but settled quickly, listening hard to your instructions. There was nothing easier than focusing on the sound of your voice.
"Look at me." You said, shining a light in Gavi's eyes, checking for any hemorrhaging or internal bleeding. What a silly request, he thought to himself, squinting under the brightness. How could he look anywhere else when you were in the room? How could he ever tear his eyes from you? How could he waste a single second of you before him, especially with the prospect of you leaving at the end of the month looming?
"No bleeding. Are you experiencing any double vision?"
A headshake no. You instructed someone behind you to grab a bottle of water, and then turned back to Pablo.
"Good. What is your name?"
Gavi swallowed thickly, and took a deep breath before speaking. "My name is Pablo Gavi."
"Good. And who am I?"
"Ah don't worry, Doctora. Even with amnesia, I could never forget you." There was that stabbing feeling in your chest again. That feeling that accompanied Pablo's sweet words and kind eyes. The cold shard of reality that reminded you that he would fade away into an Instagram mutual in a matter of months.
"Alright, Gavi. No internal bleeding and no memory loss. We need to go through more of the concussion protocols and make sure you're okay, but we can do this in my office. Are you okay to stand?"
After a curt nod, you helped Pablo stand, and began walking with him towards your office. You informed Xavi of the next steps, and he told you to do whatever necessary to make sure his 'golden angry bird' was okay. But of course, you could never know a day of peace, as each one must be filled with the noise pollution that was Ferran's voice.
"If the door isn't open, just know that Pablito isn't moaning in pain." A round of snickers was heard from both players and staff. But before they had time to add on to the nasty comment, you swiveled around to face the group. You were seething with anger, and one very important realization came to the center of your mind.
You had nothing left to lose.
It was Pablo Torre who was closest to you, and he was the person that received the start of your wrath.
"What the hell are you laughing at? The fact that your teammate could have serious head trauma? Or at the fact that, with Gavi potentially out of commission, they might take you off the bench long enough for you to remember what grass feels like?"
He was silent instantly, eyes wide. He had never received words this harsh from anyone at the club. Or anyone not on Twitter. You turned to two more assistant physios, Luca and Gabriel, who stood next to him, still muttering to one another in hushed tones.
"And you two! Do you want to know why everyone has to rush and get me whenever someone hits their head? Because out of everyone here, I'm the only one that knows proper concussion protocols and how to identify trauma. I have more medical knowledge in my fingernail than in both of your heads combined. I have to take him to my office because you two are incompetent at your jobs! And instead of doing anything useful, this is how you occupy your time: slacking, cigarette breaks, speculating who I'm sleeping with, and doing absolutely jack shit when a player gets injured. So keep giggling like school girls. I can't wait to see you both giggling on the street corner while begging for spare change."
You held Gavi harshly, storming off to your office. Your speed and the bounce was making him nauseous, but he knew better than to speak in this moment. His chest had swelled with pride. He was patiently waiting for the day that you would put the guys in their place. None of them were bad people - it had just been a while since most of them interacted with a woman they didn't want to sleep with. Gavi loved that you were capable of defending yourself, but could not ignore the part of him that wanted to be the one to defend you.
Call it a toxic trait if you want, but Pablo had always taken pride in his ability to intimidate. He had eventually come to terms with the fact that he was done growing at a sweet 5'7, despite his desire to break at least 5'9 (because his friend Hanna at La Masia told him that was the shortest a girl would go for. Looking back, taking this information from a 5'10 female footballer was probably not the best idea he's ever had). It had taken a while, but after weeks of daily affirmations in the mirror about how short Messi was, he held his chin higher. Once he started receiving praise from fellow players, coaches, and media, Pablo gained more confidence in the fact that he could be part of the next generation of great Barcelona football. This allowed him to go up against any player with no worries or fear, winning headers against people with a foot of height on him. Pablo began building his upper body in the gym as well, compensating with strength. A broad and reckless teenager, there was almost no one he wasn't ready to take on.
He sensed that same quality in you as well: a desire to prove yourself, no matter the cost. But he didn't want you to. He never wanted to see you scowl or have to hear you yell (despite it being semi-hot). Pablo wanted to be your knight, whose sole purpose in life was making sure that you never experienced feelings but joy and pleasure. He wanted others to go through him before daring to speak to you. Because how could every person just have access to the beauty that is you? To the radiant soul and shimmering aura that fills the room? How could he be content with you shouldering the burdens of living in this world? Even if he never got to have you romantically, Pablo wanted to shield you from every harm in the world. And not a day went by when he didn't feel it.
This was one of those moments. He wished he was able to verbally berate Ferran for the garbage he spewed on a regular basis, but he could do nothing except let himself be dragged by you through the halls of the sports center until they reached your office, where he was promptly flung towards the exam table. He watched as you brought him your small office trash can, setting it beside the bed. He was brought back to your first month at Barca, when he had challenged you and been proven wrong. There was a confidence in yourself and your abilities that had dissipated from then to now. Pablo smiled stupidly as he remembered the excruciating pain and discomfort of trying not to throw up in front of the pretty physio. If only he had known then that it was nothing compared to the pain of holding back these feelings.
"Lay down on the bed. Look up at the ceiling. If you need to vomit, do it in there." You instructed curtly before moving to sit at your computer. Short nails clicked harshly against the raised keyboard, keys slamming down rapidly, sound reverberating around the room. Gavi wanted so desperately to flip over, lay on his stomach and stare at you. Just to see the curves of your face and the way your eyes reflected the light. But he looked up at the ceiling like you asked, more worried about pushing you further away than watching you type. He took several deep breaths. This didn’t feel like the last time he was concussed. Last time, he had felt his brain rattle against his skull, waves of nausea starting immediately. His head ad throbbed, spots forming on his vision. His jaw was clenched, and he could’ve sworn there was a crack down the center of his cranium, blood oozing out of it onto the practice pitch.
He remembered that day so vividly despite the head trauma. He had been livid, Ferran dragging him to a new and inexperienced physio. Gavi had interpreted it as sabotage to that Ferran could get the left wing back. And then he saw you. Angry that he was he wasn’t receiving treatment by the best, he couldn’t say he was upset to look at you. You were a stunning kind of beauty, young and lively and clad in cool gray scrubs. But you were three years older than him, wildly advanced and talented, and he couldn’t swallow his pride - especially not with this nausea. He could not swallow the fact that you looked so damn familiar. He had seen you somewhere before: those eyes had looked at him with that same distress and concern. But he could not place it for the life of him.
Pablo thought back to how sweet you had been to him that day. How you had encouraged him to take pride in himself and be confident in the fact that he deserved all the success he had seen. He was so overwhelmed that day. His brain was absolute porridge, and he was doing his best for it not to pour out of his ears, all while his cheeks burned under your gaze. He was too preoccupied by his desire to muster one ounce of hatred to replace the overwhelming admiration in his brain that he could not determine where the hell he had seen you before.
And now here he was, once again staring at the ceiling, head throbbing, and the thought came to him again: why did you look familiar? Despite having known you for half a year now, the feeling that there was history had not left him. It wasn't that you had a common face. There was something about the way you looked at him, with a knowing and sadness, that touched a part of his soul. Like you knew things he had never even admitted to himself. While he thought that was just your way of being, he was coming to realize that look was one reserved specifically for Pablo. Now he wasn't nauseous, and focused on the rhythmic sounds of keys being slammed. He poised himself to ask a question, but not the one gnawing at his brain.
"What're you typing so excitedly? Hopefully not your resignation."
You looked up in time to watch Pablo's chest heave with the breathy (and very fake) laugh that he forced out. Your fingers rested against the keyboard, pausing your aggressive typing. How did Gavi know about your plans to leave? Had he been listening at the door? How long had he been standing there before-
"Is that why you fainted in the hallway? Because I'm leaving the club?"
"So you've already decided that you're leaving? You aren't even going to wait until you see whatever shithole you've been offered a spot at?"
There was an emotion that made Gavi's voice wobble, and you couldn't pin it exactly, but it sounded akin to betrayal. You finished the last sentence of your email, the swooshing sound indicating the message had been sent. Pablo bit his lip and stared hard at the fluorescent light. He didn't want you to see the distress in his face, but he couldn't help it. He hated how the dynamic between the two of you had been so warm, so close to the spark he desperately sought, just to go back to how icy your interactions began.
You pulled up a stool to sit next to him, and grabbed a pair of gloves as you approached. You noticed the slight quiver of his lip, and turned away to put your gloves on. The deep sadness in his eyes, the way his body tensed, the voice like a hurt child - was this all because of you?
"I was doing what I should've done my first week working here: I sent an email to HR about Ferran's nasty comments. Barca can't have a sexual harassment scandal right about now, especially not during the transfer window. And if they fire me, then they..." Your voice trailed off, throat closing up. It was still hard for you to process the possibility.
"If they fire me, then that's one less decision that I have to make."
You ran a gloved hand across his crown, feeling for any bumps or lacerations because of his fall. You felt worse the longer you continued the exam, the feeling that this was your fault sinking in. You had pushed Pablo away wordlessly after brining him in so close. But the majority of your brain screamed back at you how selfish it would be to drag Pablo into your black hole, ruining his career so that he could run after a girl who didn't even feel. If the sun in its greatness could not warm you, then how could ask this of Pablo?
"Now we need to talk about your fall in the hallway. It's quite obvious that you fainted but-"
"Were ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to freeze me out until you left the country?"
Gavi propped himself up on his elbows, eyes meeting you directly. You didn't know what to say. You couldn't tell him how you felt, especially not now. Not right before you disappeared.
"Have you ever fainted like that before? What have you eaten to day?" You asked, moving to throw away your gloves. "If you're having frequent spells of losing consciousness, then we need to have your blood iron tes-"
"Are you being serious right now, y/n? You're on the verge of quitting your dream job, packing up and leaving the country, and isolating yourself from everyone who cares about you, and you're asking about my blood iron? No."
Pablo stood, getting off the table faster than someone with a head injury should. He walked towards you, anger evident.
"No. You don't get to change the subject and talk about my iron. Or sit and try and diagnose me with anything. You know that I'm perfectly healthy. Want to know why I fainted? I'll tell you, Doctora."
Gavi was right in front of your face now, heavy breath fanning against your skin. You swallowed thickly, breathing just as heavy as you met his blazing stare. For the first time in weeks, your eyes started to moisten. Why was this scolding from Pablo going to bring you to tears?
"Because from the moment I laid eyes on you, I felt like I knew you. I don't know if I saw you on the street or in a dream, but a part of my brain recognized you, and since then I've been in pain. Pain that you can't even help me with. Nobody can. It's so hard to watch everyone take advantage of you all the fucking time. It tears me apart constantly. But it let me get closer to you. You let me get closer. And I tried so hard to keep it at bay, to be the friend that you need."
Pablo was now cupping your face, holding it like it was the only thing that would tether him to the earth. He rested his head against yours, and suddenly it was too much. All the feelings that had escaped you for so long were coming back all at once, stacking on top of each other and smothering you. Your eyes welled with tears, and you wished the ground would swallow you whole to escape Gavi's piercing eyes looking straight through you.
"But you have to know that I don't just see you as a friend, Doctora. You have to know, even if you don't feel the same way, that I am -"
"We met before I got my job here. That's why you recognize me."
Gavi let go of your face, taking a step back. He looked at you with confusion and hurt. You both knew what he was about to say, and he couldn't understand why you wouldn't just let him get it off his chest. And as selfish as it was, you just couldn't take it. Pablo deserved better - someone that would lift him up, not hold him back. And if he said it, if it was out in the open, then you would never be able to put his needs first.
"The week of my interview, I went to pick up Angelika from the club. Angel went to get her from the VIP section and he left me in charge of keeping an eye on you."
"You... were watching me while I was drunk?" Pablo's brain was processing a thousand things at once. You had met him and remembered him? What had he said while drunk to make you hide that fact from him?
"Why didn't you say anything before?"
There were so many ways to answer this question that you didn't know where to begin. How could you explain to Gavi that you had been so captured by his beauty that night that it had thrown you off your axis, making you wonder if you had died and this was the angel sent to guide you to the pearly gates? How could you describe the intense pull Pablo had over you, tugging at your soul, urging you to stay with him? How were you to say the way your heart broke on his behalf, wanting to hold him in your arms and protect him from everything that made him feel less than the most special person alive? All you had wanted was to kiss him, to pull him in, to never let him go. But none of the words materialized. Because to you, the cruelest thing you could do to Pablo was keep pulling him into you. He was pure light, and you couldn't bear the burden of being the one to extinguish it.
"It was an insignificant moment in a club. Nothing worth mentioning. I didn't even remember until Pedri reminded me when I started."
There it was. The sentence that made Gavi crack. You watched the hurt seep into his features, and a heavy air filled the room. Brows coming together, he looked at you expectantly, waiting, praying, that you would take it back.
"Meeting me was ... insignificant?"
Eyes locked, there was nothing you could say that would erase this moment. You swallowed the lump in your throat, playing with your fingers. You spun the ring you wore around your finger, trying to occupy your mind with anything other than the thought that you were the human embodiment of garbage.
The silence remained, growing thicker with each passing second. It enveloped the both of you, tendrils wrapping around and ripping the two of you apart, fraying whatever string of fate had brought you together.
"You think it was just a coincidence, meeting me in the club weeks before we become coworkers? Friends? Something... beyond that...and you think that coincidence was so forgettable that it wasn't even worth mentioning?"
There it was. The cold front that you put up, the one that pushed everyone away, no matter how hot their love for you burned. You were the ice princess, destined to go through life cold and untouchable and alone.
"Some people you just meet, Pablo. It doesn't mean they're meant to be together. I needed to get my friend out of the club and I just ran into Angel. He left me in charge of you so that you wouldn't do anything stupid or childish while drunk. I was in a club babysitting an 18 year old kid who was pouring his heart out to me while wasted. I didn't say anything to save you from the embarrassment."
That was the straw that broke Gavi's heart. He stormed towards the door, unable to look at you any longer. Had he really been lead on; allowed to believe that you were his friend, or at the least respected him, when this entire time you just saw him as a little kid. His last line to you was spoken so softly you almost didn't hear it over the deafening slam of the door.
"They're going to love you in England."
~
"Your English is very good for someone educated in Spain."
You looked up at Steve, flashing a practiced professional smile that showed no indication of offense at the objectively offensive statement.
"Thank you, Dr. Hughes. I did complete my baccalaureate degree in the United States, but I'm glad the last two years in Barcelona have not damaged my language."
Now it was his turn to laugh uncomfortably as he lead you through the garish blue halls of Stamford bridge. The entire plane ride you had told yourself that this could be the fresh start you needed. This could be the opportunity to turn your life around, and so you should approach it with fresh eyes and an open mind. But the walls were hurting your eyes, the blue and white making you think of Martin in his kit. You were lead into the trophy room, which was a lot smaller than you were used to.
"Here you can see some of the club's shining moments. We have had an... interesting season this year, but you know that performance fluctuates between seasons. We hope to be back on top again very soon, especially with an entirely new medical team coming on board."
You scanned the shelves and glass cases, admiring the look of trophies you were familiar with, and ones you had never seen before.
"An entire new medical staff? No one is staying on?" You asked, confused. What kind of club replaced everyone all at the same time? Usually at least one person remained to pass the torch, to maintain familiarity. It set warning bells off in your head.
“Ah, well, many of our staff members were quite loyal to Dr. Henry, you know he was here for 17 years after all. So they all followed him out. But we are excited to usher in a new wave of sparkling young medical talent!”
You swallowed hard, still feeling from the information. You still hadn’t finished your degree, and yet you were being offered a head position at what was supposed to be a huge and well-respected club. You couldn’t help but think of the blaugrana.
Something flitted in your chest, a feeling that surrounded you whenever you walked into the camp. The feeling of family, like you were home. The coldness of Steve’s answer didn’t spark anything close to that feeling. Not every workplace needed to be a part of your heart, a new family. These days. You had no idea what your family was supposed to be, or if you had one at all. Your brain begged you to ask what the environment was like, how close the staff was, what created such a high level of loyalty that they would all follow this man wherever he went, abandoning club and home. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, asking instead,
“Do you only display the most recent. Champions League trophy?”
More laughter from Steve, but of the fakest nature. “Yes we have one on this side, one on the other. They’re … ehem, all of our UCL trophies are displayed here.” Your cheeks warmed with subtle embarrassment. You knew nothing about this room or this club, and if you were honest with yourself, you had no desire to. You missed Barca. But you had to give this club its chance – an honest shot to be your new home.
The two of you continued through the halls as Steve showed you all the medical equipment and facilities that would be at your disposal should you accept. At the end, he led you to the players’ lounge, offering you a seat. The blue had given you a baby migraine, and you were incredibly grateful for the ability to sit and rest. You refused the gracious offers for food, sipping on a bottle of water to dull the throbbing against your skull. You searched the room for something, something familiar – a face, a number, to make you feel like everything was going to work out in the end. But it never appeared, the bright colors and foreign faces more of a discomfort than anything else.
"Make yourself comfortable, Doctor. Let me get some of the players that you'll be working with, and you can hear from them what the environment is like."
You nodded sweetly, sitting up straight with ankles crossed in the way Princess Diaries taught you to. As the footsteps faded slowly into the distance, a sigh passed between your lips. What were you doing? Despite the lecture given to yourself on the uncomfortable plane ride over (Chelsea would only pay for economy), it had all gone out the window. Your gut was in knots, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were doing something wrong.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and the screen lit up in your hand to read "One Football: FC Barcelona vs Manchester United - Starting lineup now available." The notification had been pressed before you registered what was going on. Your eyes scanned the list just to land on one name. Your mind went back to the last conversation the two of you shared. The most venomous words had slipped past your lips, and you had finally done it: you pushed the last person who cared for you away. The sentiment was harsh. How could anyone ever recover a relationship after shattering it so completely? Despite how much much it hurt to grip the broken shards so tightly, you held on nonetheless, packing Gavi's hoodie in your bag, the '6' embroidered into the pocket cutting open a gaping wound in your heart, and yet you enjoyed its presence there.
"Doctora, I'm pleased to introduce Kepa and Christian. They have been with the club for a while, and they would be happy to answer all your questions."
~
"A scoreless first half here at Old Trafford as both Barcelona and Man U return to the locker rooms for half time. As we saw Pedri went down in those final minutes of the half, and we've received a report that he is out for the rest of the match. His injury status is unknown, but if the magician is out of commission, this could be a very easy steal for United."
The sounds of fists slamming against lockers was loud enough to be heard all the way home in Spain. Pedri Potter, the star, the leader of Barca's new era, was now in icing his right hamstring in some medical examination room, while the rest of the team scrambled to figure out a scenario in which they would win without him in a mere 15 minutes. Gavi bounced his leg anxiously, eager to see his friend and make sure he was okay.
"Listen up boys. We can win this game without Pedri. The score is now 1-0 to Man U, and all we need to do it score once to tie. Then we are back home, our turf and our fans. Robert, Rapha, your goal is to put the ball in the net. I don't care what you have to do. The middle, you need to get the ball in a good position for these two. That means Gavi, you'll be- Gavi pay attention!"
Head snapping up, Pablo's eyes met Xavi's directly. He knew he should be paying attention - this was the first of several games that needed to be won until they reached a trophy. He needed to be on his A-game, and yet, his mind was drifting. He wished it was just concern over Pedri capturing his attention. But in the corners of his mind, your voice lingered. "Babysitting... insignificant... embarrassment." All words you had used when talking about him as he was on the verge of pouring his entire soul out onto the linoleum for you. He didn't understand the anger that flowed through him. It was a sense of ... incompleteness. If you had let him finish, let him say the words that he didn't fully understand, then he would have been okay. He would have watched as you kicked his beating heart against the wall, telling him that you could never feel that way towards him. He would have been okay: relieved. But you had left him dangling off the edge of a cliff, with no relief in being pulled to safety nor mercy in being allowed to fall.
Xavi gave his instructions to the midfield and the defensive line, going over the weak points that needed to be addressed.
"Pedri is most likely out for the next eight weeks, missing both the next match and the SuperCopa, so this is your opportunity to adjust to playing in high-stress situations without him."
Gavi's head raised fully at this. Eight weeks? It has been forever since someone was out for that long. Since the beginning of the season... since you had joined the team. A pinch in Pablo's chest. His brain repeated over and over that the best thing to do was let you go. To let you be your own person, grow and be independent, saving himself the heartache because the one girl he wanted was the one he couldn't have. Yet his heart held on with an iron grip. It refused to release you, reminding him of every sweet moment shared in cars and offices and bedrooms. It was quick to forget the pain of being perceived as a child. Pablo's heart begged him to wait for you, because it was incapable of letting go of a devotion so intense. His heart ached for you, longing for the day he be deemed worthy enough to love you wholly and completely.
"Eight weeks is insane - we have never gone that long with our midfield handicapped. Is there no way to speed up recovery? Who gave the estimate?" Robert asked, wiping the sweat off his brow.
"Luca is the only one from the medical staff who is here right now. He is the one who made the determination. Of course, the rest of the staff will be free to reevaluate when we return home. But Luca will be the one continuing with the course of treatment, and so we will go with his estimate."
"What? Where is y/n?" The question came from Alejandro, followed by hushed agreement. Even if you were not the first point of contact for all the players, you were a team staple, becoming as familiar to them as the crest embroidered on their uniforms. The older players had watched as you performed medical miracles on their teammates that rivaled what Jesus did for the blind, allowing the team to prosper all season. 15 points at the top of the table, and at least half had your name on them. The youngers had felt your impact directly, following your instructions like gospel. They knew how much care you showed to every single one of them, from the starters to the bench warmers. Your hands had put them back together. A touch of you lingered in all the success achieved, and your absence felt closer to abandonment than anything else.
"You should ask Pablito - he would be the first one to notice that his girlfriend wasn't on the flight." Ferran's voice: the closest human equivalent to nails on a chalkboard. After everything that had taken place, it was a wonder he still had the energy to be an ass.
"Maybe you should ask Ferran about his HR investigation, which is a main reason that she's touring the Chelsea facility fight now. Hey, maybe you'll see her this summer when you get sold there. They're always looking for people to keep the bench warm while the important players are on the field." Gavi spoke calmly and evenly, like he was stating pure fact. He stood, leaving the room to avoid the round of questioning that was about to occur regarding HR and the doctora's new home.
The click of Pablo's cleats echoed loudly in the hallway a she approached the medical room, where Luca was fumbling with bandage and his laptop, while Pedri waited on the exam table like a fish at the market. His head turned at the sound of Gavi's approach, and he gave a weak smile to the younger player.
"I finally pushed it too far. Great timing, eh Hermano? It's only a Champion's League, a SuperCopa, and a potential classico that I'll miss. Nothing significant."
Gavi could do nothing but let out a slight laugh, cupping Pedri on the back of the neck. His heart hurt for his friend. This is what every player dreamed of: playing for cups, winning with the team of their dreams. And Pedri was going to miss all of it because they had relied on him to heavily, asked him to bridge too many gaps.
"Please don't say that word to me ever again. Luca, how's it looking? Eight weeks seems a little excessive for a sprain." Gavi knew that Luca was doing something wrong. Or stupid. Or, the most likely option, both. When Ansu had sprained his hamstring, he was back on the field in 28 days under your care. Alejandro had a minor tear in his meniscus, and yet still he was faster than the speed of sound 6 weeks later. Now there was no you. No melodic voice explaining muscle strain and stride length and tissue recovery. Just a stupid, lanky Spaniard in free Barca merch putting "leg hurts" into Web MD and seeing what he can diagnose with this time.
"Why don't you let the medical professionals do their job, Gavi, and you go back to putting your head in front of peoples' feet."
Looking to quickly diffuse the situation, Pedri turned to his friend, wanting to stop looking at the man who might end his football career with a wrong move and an 'oops'.
"I'll just let y/n look at it when I get back home. She'll fix me up in no time. That is, if you give me one of your spots on her schedule."
"Yeah, that's if she even comes back to work."
Pedri looked at the younger boy with confusion. It had been several weeks since he had seen Gavi with his favorite physio. Initially, he thought the crush had faded - that Pablo had found another pretty thing to maintain his interest, and you had fallen to the wayside with the other failed football loves. But Pablo was so clearly unhappy. He was more irritable, spending more and more time on his phone while avoiding the group all together. He sat silently in Pedri's passenger seat, screen illuminating his face but remaining silent.
[Doctora]: Good morning Pablo - running late. Will bring you an apology smoothie
[Doctora]: im going to need you to send me a video of you tying your shoes as proof
[Doctora]: i'll tell you when i see u tomorrow
Gavi had spent two weeks going back over every message you had ever sent him. He watched the way your tone changed from proper and professional to something lighter, more friendly and familiar. Over and over your voice played in his head.
"Pablo."
Pride be damned. He missed you. As he stood behind his teammates, whispers about the staff still whirling around the tunnel, it dawned on him. Barca, the club of his dreams, the fantasy of his childhood, would never - could never - be complete again if you left.
"And we're back in Old Trafford for the second half of this UCL match between the Historic FC Barcelona, and the red devils of Manchester United."
~
"That's incredible that you went to school there! I'm a ride or die for their basketball team, so you already have my respect."
You flashed Christian a smile - a real one, the first genuine display of joy you've been able to muster in a while. Both of the players had shown a genuine interest in getting to know you, trying to sell you on the idea of joining the club. Kepa had gushed over how much he loved living in London, citing his experiences as a fellow Spaniard.
"You're around so many Spanish speakers at the club, you hardly miss home."
Christian, the more injury-prone of the two, talked about his experiences with the medical team, and the close relationships he had built there. All of the medical team had become family to him in some way or the other. It calmed your previous anxieties. Maybe it was just a fear of change keeping you tethered to Barca, and all you needed was time to adjust.
"I think you'd get along really well with the other players, of course, the ones that opt-in to working with you."
This statement from Christian caught the attention of both you and Steve, who rushed over before you could ask for clarification. Opt-in? How could you opt-in to medical treatment?
"Miss, I think that Kepa and Christian have both done a wonderful job of providing just a small taste of what it means to be part of the Chelsea family. We don't want to keep them from afternoon training."
You said your thanks and goodbyes, but before they left Kepa turned to you, as if suddenly struck with a lightening bolt of realization.
"You're the Barca physio that works with Gavi, right?" He asked in Spanish. "He mentioned a girl physio during international training."
Another knot in your stomach at the mere mention of his name. "Yeah that would be me."
Kepa's face shifted, brows downturned and lips pursed. "Let me give you my contact information, in case you have any more questions." This line was in English, spoken more in Steve's direction than in yours. He approached, taking the phone from your hands and switching back to Spanish.
"Don't leave Barca. Gavi talked about you a lot during the break. They respect and value you a lot there - don't throw that away." He handed the phone back to you as you tried to contain your expression, suppressing the shock you felt from displaying itself on your features. What could Pablo have said that would make this man go out of his way to prevent you from joining this club? What had been so compelling that Kepa worked against his own best interest?
It was now just you and Steve in the room, and you turned to him, his skin flushed, to ask about Christian's little slip.
"There was something mentioned about players opting out of treatment?"
"Ah, just a small clause in your contract. Just says that players can choose not to be treated by club medical staff and find their own if they feel uncomfortable. It's all there in the paperwork somewhere. You can call my assistant if you read over it again and have more questions. Now, I know that you need to go soon, but I wouldn't be able to let you go without meeting one of our new signings. Someone else who knows what it's like to decide to make the shift from La Liga here to the old PL. Come with me."
You rose from your seat, migraine returning from the stress onset. What was being kept from you? Obviously you hadn't read your employment offer close enough. You walked through the passages somewhat mindlessly, following Steve with your body as your mind drifted elsewhere. What was being hidden from you?
"Joao, nice to see you again! This is Doctor y/l/n, and we're trying to convince her to make the same switch from Spain to London."
All of your medical education had told you that the masticator and other jaw muscles were voluntary; that they could be controlled and moved when you wanted. Not today. Your jaw went slack, and it refused to shut as you stared at the Portuguese beauty before you. There was no way. How had you missed the news of his move. How unprofessional was it to say 'pinch me' during what was essentially an interview.
"Nice to meet you, Doctora. I'm quite relieved that I don't have to speak in English - apparently my accent is not as good as I thought."
Joao Felix was shaking your hand. You had yet to say anything or even shut your mouth. Joao Felix was shaking your hand. You laughed lightly at his statement, muscles moving independently of the pudding that was your brain currently. Joao Felix was shaking your hand.
"I'm sorry, it's so nice to meet you, I'm just a little overwhelmed. You're one of my favorite players in football right now. I've been following you since your debut. Oh my God."
It was Joao's turn to laugh, a light and glorious sound. You had made him laugh. You wished someone was recording so you could send the video to Angeliika. And your mom. They would both go into cardiac arrest. His skin turned slightly pink as he scratched the back of his head, flattered by the admiration of someone so accomplished (and, as he would later reflect, gorgeous). Despite not understanding a lick of Spanish, Steve knew he had made a winning move by introducing you to Joao. The two of you leaned into each other as you spoke, and he motioned towards the field, inviting you to a stroll around the turf to chat.
All of your pride and prejudice fantasies were being realized in this moment. You were taking a polite stroll around the grounds with a man that you had salivated over while watching football on TV. A golden boy and future champion. He was something incredible. Witty and charismatic and easy to talk to. Everyone says not to meet your heroes, and yet here you were, floating several inches above the ground beside Joao.
"So, what club are you moving from? Can't be something in Madrid - I would remember you."
Lord, this was too much. You gave a silent thanks to the heavens, all the good karma you had accumulated throughout your life manifesting on this day.
"Oh no, not a Madrid club. Just a small Catalan club called Barca. Heard of it?" You teased as Joao stopped in his tracks. It was his turn to go wide-eyed and slack jawed.
"You're the Barca girl physio? I have heard of you! One of the physios at Atleti is your classmate. He said you're crazy smart."
How were you staying alive when all the blood in your body was in your face? How had so many people in the football space heard your name with you blissfully unaware. The smile on your face was not just due to the compliment. Maybe there were people ready to be there for you, and you just needed to reach arm out to them.
The conversation came to a close as you watched other groups come onto the field, preparations being made for upcoming matches. You thanked Joao for his time, once again involuntarily gushing about how surreal this experience was.
"Ah, there's really no need. The pleasure was all mine. I hope that I'll get to see more of you, Doctora, no matter what decision you end up making." Stretching his arm out, pulling you in for a hug. He enveloped you, arms wrapped tightly around your frame in a way that was borderline inappropriate for a goodbye. He smelled heavenly, the warmth radiating from his body akin to a fireplace. This was the stuff of dreams and imagination.
And yet, Joao was not the name on your mind. He way he smelled was beautiful and yet unfamiliar. Your thoughts traveled back to the last hug like this you had shared with someone. To the scent of One Million and powdery deodorant, mixed with something that couldn't be bottled. To the feeling of strong arms sitting lower on your waist. To brown hair and brown eyes and a brown leather couch. To white shirts and white bedsheets. To the soft voice and smooth voice that called for you.
"Doctora."
Logic be damned. You missed Pablo. And then the empty expanse of your soul filled with a feeling of dread. You had made a mistake. So many mistakes. Pushing away Pablo, lying to your friends about how much you needed them. Considering another job. Nothing in the the blue and white had given you even 1% of the feelings you experienced walking into Camp Nou every day. But you would never be able to go back if Gavi was angry with you. Ferran was cattle waiting to be sold. Gavi was a contender this year's golden boy, a powerhouse on the field, a bright star for both club and country. You reached into your bag, staring at his name in your phone. But your fingers shook too violently to press the call button. You remembered the hurt on his features, the way he couldn't even look at you as he passed in the halls. You weren't ready to see [Call Declined] appear on your screen. Instead you rested your phone on your lap, reaching in to retrieve your Chelsea contract.
Obviously, your eagerness to run away from your current life had blurred your vision. On page 22 of 31, there is was in what appeared to be a smaller font than the rest of the agreement.
"Under FIFA and British Football regulation, players may refuse treatment from club-appointed medical staff for any reason, including but not limited to feelings of fear, discomfort, lack of safety, and lack of confidence. Providers will be compensated on a fee-for-service basis, where compensation is scaled based on the number of players consistently treated. Should more than 40% of players request alternative treatment, the club may terminate the contract with the provider before the term of the contract has elapsed."
Your eyes widened, brows knitted together in confusion and borderline disgust. Women in medicine were already at a disadvantage, and that increased tenfold for women in sports medicine. Should the players feel uncomfortable with you because of your sex or age, you could spontaneously be out of a job after picking up and moving your whole life?!
Before you could pick up the phone and tell Steve that he would need to find someone else to fill this cursed position, a buzzing came from your bag. Who was calling your work phone?
"Hello?"
"Good evening Doctora y/l/n, hope that your visit at Chelsea went well." Andreas was Xavi's secretary, and he was the closest thing you would ever get to the cast of The Devil Wears Prada. He was rather cold in the way that he spoke, but never rude. Well dressed and straight to the point - commanding of respect.
"Went very well, Andreas. I got to meet-"
"Mister Xavi has asked for your presence on the flight back to Barcelona to discuss your future with the club. It is of the utmost importance that this meeting occur as soon as possible. So you need to be in Heathrow by tonight at 11pm for check in with the rest of the team."
"But my flight back to Barcelona is tomorrow and I-"
"You'll be fully reimbursed for the cost of changing your travel. We are leaving from Terminal 2. Have a wonderful evening."
Just like that, you were wondering how fast you could pack everything and leave in the next 6 hours when your personal phone buzzed in your lap.
[Pablo]: I know u said u need space but
[Pablo]: i rlly need to talk to u
[Pablo]: can i meet you somewhere?
Heart racing, you typed back as fast as you could with trembling fingers, telling him that you would be so happy to meet him, giving him the address of a café near your hotel. You didn't want him to see what your salary could actually afford (since Chelsea didn't cover your travel accommodations). You let out a sigh of relief. He wanted to see you. He wanted to speak with you. He wasn't completely lost.
~
Packing had been fast - you had only brought the essentials to London to avoid paying a bag fee on the budget airline you had traveled. Fixing yourself in the mirror, you let out a deep sigh. What were you even going to say to Pablo? Begging for forgiveness seemed the most logical choice. You practiced your apology in the mirror, and yet froze every time. How would you respond when he asked you why? Why it had been so easy for you to push him away, to strike him down, to make him feel so utterly unimportant to you and your life? You didn't know how you would respond.
Feelings of the heart are often the easiest to articulate. They're not like emotions. Emotions are straight forward: happiness, anger, sadness, jealousy. Things that were caused by one identifiable source, and could be expressed easily with words and actions. But the matters that went beyond feeling, those were the most difficult to understand, let alone communicate. Despite his form, it wasn't lust that drew you into Pablo. Those thoughts had made you breathe heavy and push your thighs together. The glimpses of Pablo's bare form were painted on the edge of your mind, soft skin and hard muscle, inviting you in for a touch, a taste. It was an exciting idea, but not the one that riled you up the most.
No, it was something different. It was a scene that had plagued your mind for weeks upon end, always causing you to wake in a cold sweat with a tightness in your chest, breaths labored. You pictured yourself laying on Pablo's bare chest, drawing circles on his skin as his heart beat rhythmically for you to listen to. As you drifted off, he would place a kiss on the top of your head, running a soothing hand down your spine. It wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer into him, as he whispered softly.
"Mine."
It was a magnetic pull that Pablo had, a force of nature that you were unable to escape. It could be described as nothing other than desire, like you would make the world stop spinning until the two of you were united. There was a higher force tying you to Pablo, and etched in your bones was a knowledge that you would never be able to leave him. But the sentiments died on your tongue before they could ever take to the air, never to fall on the ears of a certain Spaniard.
As your heels clicked against the city pavement, a sense of calm washed over you. He had reached out to you. There was an olive branch being extended. He was ready to hear what you had to say. Yet upon entering the small space, a different voice called out your name.
"Pedri?"
It was impossible to hide the disappointment in your voice. You had built up the confidence to come here solely based on the premise that Gavi wanted to see you. Your ego had deflated, back to feeling like utter garbage for the way you had treated the person who, in reality, was your closest friend. Before the self pity could fully sink its claws in, you noticed the full-leg brace that Pedri was sporting.
"I'm sorry that I used Pablo's phone to text you - didn't have your personal number, and it would be a little... salt-in-the-wound-ish to ask him for it right now. Especially since you asked him not to speak to you."
"I never said that!" You exclaimed a little more enthusiastically than intended, causing a couple people to glance in your direction. Pedri escorted you to a table in the corner, offering to go and get you a coffee to fight the chill of a London January.
"No please. It's completely fine. You shouldn't be standing with a torn muscle anyways."
Pedri looked at you inquisitively. He had not seen you in a while, especially with you and Gavi not on speaking terms. He had missed the quips and sarcastic comments he was able to catch during training. He missed the feeling of safety whenever you cared for himself or others on the field, as he knew that you were to be trusted with their bodies. He missed the fire you sparked in Pablo, leading to unparalleled passion and unprecedented performances. The air of natural confidence that you spoke with is what brought the smile to his face. Not hesitation or wobble in your voice. No need to consult a dozen others. Medically, you knew your shit.
"A tear? Luca told me it was only excessive strain on my hamstrings."
A scoff and an eye roll that widened Pedri's smile. "I wouldn't let Luca perform medicine on a Barbie. That's the wrong kind of brace if it's a sprain. It's immobilizing. You need something with compression - a thigh sleeve most likely. Have you been icing it?"
"How could you leave Barca when your successors are idiots like Luca?" His arms folded across the table in front of him as the realization spread across your features. You were acting like his physio on impulse.
"How did you know I was thinking about leaving?"
"Everybody knows. No one could focus on today's second half because of it. When I went down everyone was scrambling to find you and call you. Everyone, myself included, was waiting for you to run across the field, bag in those magic hands ready to come and give me a new leg. But then you weren't there. And I was just praying that Luca didn't schedule me for an amputation."
A shy smile and a breathy laugh. You met his kind eyes, piercing though you. It was surprising when you felt the wetness on your cheeks, registering you were crying only after the tears had rolled down to your chin. He brought his chair in closer, holding your hand, and you held on for dear life. Your tears were falling in earnest now, fat and fast enough to hit the table as you used Pedri as a lifeline.
"Come back to Barca."
"I can't Pedri. I've... I've just made such a mess of everything."
"You're talking about Pablo."
"I'm talking about everything. I have a player that actively hates me and is looking for every opportunity to get me fired. Everyone on the team thinks that I'm sleeping with Pablo. And Pablo - I can't even explain how much I messed up. I told him to stay away from me. To give me space. I don't want space." You rested your forehead against the cool wood of the table. "I just want him to talk to me. When you sent me that message I was so excited. I thought he was ready to forgive me."
"Don't worry for a second about Ferran. We heard about the complaint to HR and I'd be happy to speak on your behalf about the dogshit he says to you. Everyone with a brain knows you're not sleeping with Pablo - they all have so much respect for the work that you do. Dembele came to me after the match and told me to contact you. He said your first assignment for Barca was to work on his leg recovery, and it was the best treatment he's ever had." You raised your head, tears turning your eyes red and puffy as they stained your cheeks.
"This may be selfish of me to say, but I would do anything to have you stay at the club and work with me. I can't miss all of these cup games because the physios don't know what's going on. This is everything I have ever wanted in my life. And if you're the person that can help me get there, then nothing, especially not Ferran and the other airheads at the club, are going to hold me back."
He moved to grab your other hand as well, looking you straight in the eyes. There was not one indication that he was exaggerating his sentiments. He wanted to win more than he wanted to breathe.
"And Pablo? Don't worry about him."
"How can I not worry, Pedri. I was so cruel to him. He'll never speak to me again."
"Doctora, don't you know that there's no one on this earth he holds in higher regard?"
~
The terminal was surprisingly quite busy upon your arrival. It seemed that everyone was catching an international red-eye, causing you to stumble through crowds with your small bag and exhausted demeanor. You approached the airport staff, utterly lost in trying to find the meeting place. It was 10:56pm, and you didn't have the money to be missing the company-sponsored return flight.
"Excuse me, I'm with the F.C Barcelona team. Where can I check in for my flight?"
"I don't remember them becoming a unisex team.'' Your expression remained neutral as the staff member chuckled at his own joke. You didn't have time to give a lecture on the dangers of misogyny. "I need to see your Barca ID."
"I don't have my team ID badge, but if you let me speak to-"
"Don't you women have something better to do than try and fuck a footballer? Lord, you even have a suitcase and everything. I suggest that you go home and stop with these little charades - it's embarrassing."
You stood speechless as the man walked away, stationing himself in a different area of the terminal. Behind you, screams were heard coming from the door, followed by flashes of light in rapid succession.
"Gavi I love you!"
"Pedri Pedri! You're my idol!"
"Xavi have my babies!"
Your attention shifted to the security guarding the entrance as the Barca squad filtered through the doors, all dressed in coordinated pale yellow. You speed walked towards them, pace catching the attention of one of the guards.
"Miss, you need to maintain space."
Gavi turned to look at the person that was causing a disturbance. Usually it was a child who had gotten a little too excited to see their favorite players, and often the soft spot in his heart compelled him to give them a picture or signature. It was hard to have your dreams crushed as a child by a celebrity that didn't care, and he was determined not to be that type of person. That's when his eyes locked with a pair oh so familiar to him. He stood in place, frozen as his teammates narrowly avoided bumping into him and causing an awful domino effect. It felt like forever since he last looked at you this way: like you were the only person in the room.
"Ah, Doctora y/n, glad Andreas was able to coordinate with you. Sir, she's with us." Xavi's word was law, as usual, and you were allowed to pass through with the rest of the group, ushered to a more private area of the terminal, the screams of fans echoing behind you.
Pablo watched as you stood alongside the coach, chattering away about God knows what. Eric and Pedri were beside him, making conversation about the new additions introduced in the FIFA update.
"Did you know she was going to be here?" Gavi asked, interrupting Pedri's rant about how expensive different skins and expansions were. He had been desperate to see you, thinking of all the ways he might reconcile once he saw you again. But not now. He wasn't ready to face you - not ready to be told 'no' again. For the first time in years, a cold vein of fear ran through him. Was this it? Were you handing in your resignation, coming to Spain only to collect your things before moving to the gray fogginess of the Premier League?
"Yeah. We had a little chat earlier." Say what you want about the IQ of footballers, but Pedri was incredibly intelligent. He himself had given up a career in medicine to explore football greatness. This meant he was smart enough to have deleted the messages that he sent from Pablo's phone before he did his 78th re-read of all your text messages. He was also smart enough to figure out that Gavi had wanted you practically since he laid eyes on you. Contrary to what many may think, Gavi didn't really look at girls. He was usually absorbed in conversation with a friend, whether in person or virtually, and was not prone to looking at every pretty girl that crossed his path. He was hard to please and even harder to impress. So when he started seeking you out more often, mentioning you during random drives, he knew that Pablito was infatuated.
It was several months, however, before Pedri realized the extent of Pablo's affection towards you. It had been during the international break, when Pedri sat and played FIFA with Nico, the only worthy opponent among La Roja. Pablo was half watching the game, half staring at the illuminated screen when he stood suddenly. Pedri watched from the corner of his eye as Gavi stepped out onto the balcony in shorts and his training shirt in the bitter chill of December. When the match had ended (3-1 to him of course), he followed the younger outside, and found him with his phone pointed towards the horizon. The sun in its retirement had painted the sky the most vibrant shades of oranges and pinks, bleeding into a royal purple. The hazy, circular glow kept the sky warm, and the colors stretched out over the wide expanse of the city, painting everything in the golden light of dusk. That's when Pedri heard the shutter click.
"Since when do you take pictures of the sunset?" He was teasing again. It was always fun to rile up his fiery teammate.
"I'm sending them to the doctora. It's so pretty, I want her to see it."
"Isn't she in Barcelona right now? She's probably looking at the same sunset."
"But it's just so beautiful from this high up." Gavi said, eyes still transfixed on his phone as he searched for the most worthy flick to send you. "I just want to send her something beautiful. I want to send her every beautiful thing in the world."
Yes, Pedri was a smart man. Smart enough to see that Pablo's feelings to you were stronger than he had ever experienced for another. Probably the strongest he had ever experienced at all. He was smart enough to approach Alejandro and Ansu, while Gavi chewed on his lip at the prospect of speaking to you, to organize the seating during the flight home.
~
"Don't get too comfortable, Doctora. You'll be joining me upfront for a chat after takeoff." You laughed politely at Xavi as he boarded the plane. You gathered your things, acutely aware of Ferran's gaze on you while you bent over.
"Have a good time at Chelsea? Try and ruin any lives while there?" He asked, voice laced with annoyance. HR had approached him about your complaint, informing him that they would be asking other players and staff about comments made at your expense. While he could keep his friends quiet, he had done too much to piss off Gavi, leaving him vulnerable to everyone in his camp. His only hope was to get you to leave before the investigation had concluded.
"I would prefer we didn't speak about non-professional matters. Thank you, Ferran." You said, smiling so sweetly he felt his teeth throb. You boarded the plane last with the rest of the staff, Luca rushing past you like he would be left behind if he wasn't seated soon. Glancing down at your ticket, you read out your seat number. Row 6, seat G. Walking onto the aircraft, you were stunned by the beauty of the first class cabin. It was furnished completely with plush leather, with every two or three seats getting their own dividers from the rest of the passengers. You walked to row 6, and made your way across the aisle to the right side of the plane where your seat was meant to be. In row 6, seat F, sat Pablo. He looked up at the aisle at the sound of shuffling, and the two of you just stared at one another, wordlessly communicating a shared hurt. All you wanted was to pull him in and say how sorry you were. You just didn't know if he'd be ready to accept.
"Um, I think I'm in the seat next to you." You told him sheepishly. He moved from his place, allowing you to sit next to him by the window.
"I thought the staff usually sits together." He said, trying to prevent it from sounding like a complaint, because it truly wasn't. He wondered what force of fate had allowed your seat to be placed next to his. Little did he know that fate was from the Canary Islands. You sat next to him, adjusting your seat and the belt, before bouncing your leg nervously. The speed increased when you felt the vibration of the engine, watching the plane move from its parked space onto the runway. You wanted to say something - anything - but your throat was dry and the words failed you. You didn't know what to say to ensure that you would be forgiven. That was probably the scariest part: knowing that the forgiveness may never come.
"Are you afraid of flying?"
You turned your head at the question. Gavi's eyes were fixated on your sweatpants-clad thigh as it bounced at incredible speeds. There were many things you were scared of in that moment, but the plane didn't help quell any of them. You were going to be stuck next to Pablo for the next two hours at the least. The anxiety of not knowing how he felt towards you gnawed at your skin, eating you alive. You nodded your head, because in all honesty, it was the same fear, wasn't it? Flying, falling - all terrifying prospects.
Gavi put one airpod in, extending the other to you. It was a peace offering, the olive branch you had waited for. You accepted it graciously, muttering a quiet thank you as you slotted it into place. Your body turned back towards the window, 'Sky full of stars' playing softly in the right half of your brain. As the plane continued to move slowly down the runway, you felt a hand rest atop yours, bringing your bouncing leg to a halt. The skin on skin sent shockwaves through you, electricity running up and down your arm. His hand moved sideways, sliding under yours to lift, and then proceeding to interlock your fingers. The warmth of Pablo's hand, the strength of his grip. The slight squeeze as the plane began picking up speed. Despite lacking the confidence to look at him directly, you peaked at your joined hands. Pablo was here. And through the presses of his fingers and the soothing motion of his thumb, he reminded you that Pablo would always be here, so long as you would have him.
"y/n, Mister Xavi would like to see you now."
You hadn't even realized your hand was still laced with Pablo's until one of the assistant coaches came to collect you. Gavi had drifted off into a light sleep, waking as he felt the cold hit his once warm palm. He grabbed your wrist as you tried to follow the assistant coach.
"Don't leave." He said, voice dry and raspy. You weren't sure if he meant now or the club. You moved your hand to join it with the one on your wrist, giving a gentle squeeze of reassurance, as he had done for you.
"Don't worry. I'll be right back."
This was your first time on a plane that had a lounge. The coaching staff was spread across all four sofas, drinking champagne and discussing the efforts from this trip. Xavi sat at a table, an empty seat across from him.
"Doctora, welcome back from Chelsea. Did you enjoy your visit?" He asked, offering your a flute that you politely declined.
"It was wonderful. The staffand players were all great. I'm grateful for the opportunity."
Xavi raised an eyebrow at the diplomatic answer. You were not giving him much of an indication as to your decision. He reached into his bag and extracted a medical file, sliding it over to you.
"As I'm sure you saw on TV and online, Pedri suffered quite a severe injury during the Man U match. Pedri is a key component of our midfield, and Luca has estimated eight to ten weeks for his recovery. I'd like you to take a look at his medical examination report and recommend a course of treatment."
You took the papers in your hand, looking at Xavi cautiously. What was the purpose of this exercise?
"Well, I've already told Pedri that his brace was incorrect, and gave him the specifications for a sleeve to buy once we return home. The eight to ten weeks metric is based on the healing with this immobilization boot. Using the correct compression sleeves and ice, as well as rest, Pedri should be back on in 4 weeks. Five if you want to be safe. That would mean his first appearance back would be the SuperCopa semifinals."
Xavi laughed to himself, collecting the files and returning them to their place. He pulled out another sheet of documents, the words "Adjusted Contract" in bold at the top.
"Doctora y/l/n, it has become increasingly evident as I watch you practice and treat our players that you are a generational talent in sports medicine. You have a deep understanding of the body that few others, both in the club and outside, can fully grasp. At Barca, we strive to do everything in our power to keep generational talents in Camp Nou. I would like you to consider remaining at the club until the summer, when contract renegotiations occur. This would allow you to see out a season that you have contributed so greatly to."
"Why the new contract now then?"
"Just a few clause adjustments. Firstly, we have increased your compensation to absorb your living costs. Those will now be covered by the club. The other change is on this page here. It states that your main focus must be on starters, injured prioritized before healthy. So, if you choose to accept, Pedri would be the top priority as an injured starter. You would dedicate all the necessary time to his treatment."
You scanned the document, and it was just as he said. No other nonsense, just the clauses on compensation and prioritization.
"This is all so flattering sir, but..." Your voice trailed off, shy to speak in front of a legend and the man holding your future in his hands.
"What can we do to make this deal irrefutable?"
"The contract is perfect sir. What I would need is a promise from you. Chelsea's base compensation was higher, but the compensation was based on the number of services the medical staff provides. I could be fired at any moment if not enough players were comfortable being treated by me. I felt, or well rather I didn't feel the sense of loyalty, of family, that I get as Barca. And so I would need a promise from you."
"Name your demand."
"When the summer comes and my contract needs to be renegotiated, keep me on the team. Don't try and pawn me off to someone else. This is my team, my club, my family. So you have to promise me that I have a future here, or else I'll save the heartbreak and leave now."
Xavi placed a pen on the table, bringing his chair forward to be as close as possible to you. "Doctora, you are an incredible and frankly priceless asset to us. We were able to hand select you from the best of the best new physios in Spain. Our successes, any trophies and titles, we owe them in part to you. Help me finish the season with a strong and healthy squad, and I swear to you on my life that you will have a place at Barca until the day you die." He stretched out his hand, and you took a deep breath, meeting the shake midway. It felt weird, signing your contract again, but for more money. You definitely didn't expect to be in this position before you've even graduated, but it brought a pride to your soul. Xavi saw something in you. A generational talent. Somebody believed in what you could do.
You returned to your seat and found that it was Gavi's turn to bounce his leg. You sat down, and he followed you with his eyes. After a moment of silence, he spoke.
"Did you enjoy your trip?"
"Very much so. I got to meet Joao Felix."
Gavi's face turned to you, catching the beaming smile that broke out across your face.
"Yeah? You like him in person, or was he a disappointment?"
"He was less... dreamy than I had anticipated. But still sweet nonetheless. It was a cool experience."
Gavi responded with a hum, turning his music back on and looking away from you. His other airpod sat on the tray table, right where you left it.
"Pablo," it was your turn to rest a hand on his bouncing leg, "we have to talk."
Pablo turned to you, eyes sad and lip between his teeth. "Do we? I feel like you've said everything there is to say." He knew he was being difficult. He knew he was being petty. But Pablo could not let himself get hurt again, especially not in front of the entire team. If he was going to mourn your departure, it was going to be in the comfort of his own guest bed, the one piece of furniture he could sleep on for 7 continuous hours because it held no memories of you. It was your turn to find his fingers and slot them between your own.
"I didn't mean it. Any of it. I have so many reasons why I didn't mention meeting you, Pablo, but I'm just not brave enough to tell you yet. It wasn't because it wasn't important. It could never be. You are one of the most important people in my life. You're one of the only people I have left. Please don't push me away."
His eyes met yours, and he knew there was no way he could remain angry. It was you, after all. The person that made Pablo believe in the possibility of a soulmate. The one that Gavi thought of whenever songs about incredible love came up on his playlist. You were it. He gripped your hand tighter.
"Going to be hard to support you from several countries away, but I will try my best."
"You don't have to. I'm staying."
Gavi's eyes widened, face lighting up like a kid who had just been gifted an entire candy store. "You're staying?"
"Mhm. Barca is my home. My family. No matter how bad it gets, I could never leave this place behind." It felt as though you spoke those words right into his soul, breathing life back into his very being. You were staying. Your voice, your laugh, your energy - all of it would be at Camp Nou, waiting on the sidelines as he fought tooth and nail to capture your attention. "And plus, Pedri and Xavi basically begged me to come back so Luca doesn't have to treat him."
Gavi let a laugh fill his lungs and spill from his throat, maybe a little louder than necessary on a midnight flight. But he was feeling genuine joy course through his veins. He was a man on death row with a second chance at life. He removed his hand from your grip, bringing to above you and resting it across your shoulders. Professionalism be damned. He just wanted to be close to you right now.
"Xavi was more convincing than Joao? I bet that would be a blow to his ego if he found out." It was comfortable, sitting with Pablo in this way. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to be this close to him. You pushed up the hand rest so that the two of you could get even closer. Professionalism be damned. They wouldn't fire you while Pedri was still limping.
"Oh yeah. Portugal boy is cute, but Xavi in 2010? That was my first love. I could never refuse a request from him." More giggles from Gavi. You wished you would bottle this moment, eager to make his happiness perpetual. He was human sunshine, and he deserved every light and happy and beautiful moment life could offer.
"The spiky hair? Really?"
"Shut up!" Coupled with a smack to the chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, exhaustion of the day and its stressors finally catching up to you. "Every man looks hotter when carrying a trophy."
Gavi let out a light laugh, turning to hide his blush. Yet another motivation to lift as many cups as possible this season. He offered you his other airpod again, which you accepted, inserting it as a soft melody filled your ears. Your eyelids were heavy, and you were drifting in and out of consciousness.
"One day, we'll need to talk about it properly, you know." Pablo said from above you, voice soft and serious.
You nodded your head, letting out a quiet "Mhm" in a agreement. You knew it was an inevitable conversation. You would have to eventually face the music, let Gavi free himself from whatever feelings were sitting on his chest. But you couldn't do it now. Not with your future up in the air. Not with your feelings for Gavi still a massive tangle of emotions.
"Not tonight." You said to him softly, as he turned his head to meet your eyes.
"No, not tonight."
Your eyes finally closed and you began drifting off. Pablo's arm remained wrapped around you as he leaned in closer, basically cuddling you on this plane. Thank the lord for blessing the engineers with enough foresight to install dividers. As you breathed rhythmically against his chest, he pressed his nose into your hair, breathing deeply. Why was everything about you so intoxicating?
In the haze of your sleep, you heard Pablo speaking to you. You listened intently, hoping to catch these special words that he only released to your sleeping form.
"Doctora, I would wait for you forever. Even when you hit rock bottom, I'll be there, waiting for you with a ladder. You will always have me, no matter what."
~~~~~~~
A/N: Guys I did it!!! My longest part to date! I am so flipping tired. It's 4am. I don't remember a time before I started writing this part. Anyways, we are chugging along y'all! Only two parts left in the main story!! I surpassed my 15k word goal. Maybe next part is 18k? I think the next part is going to be my favorite. I haven't decided if I want the big boom pow event to be in part 9 or 10. We will see. Again, apologies for the long time between updates, but semi-decent writing takes time. As usual, please leave thoughts, feedback, predictions, etc. in the replies - I love reading all of them so much!!! If you notice any easter eggs/ small details, feel free to point them out!!! There are so many and I love when y'all get them. IDK when part 9 is coming out but when it's done y'all will be the first to know. Ok love y'all byeeeee.
Also please comment if you want to be added to the taglist ok bye
*~*Taglist*~*
@l0verl4ne @vibinwkay @anastasia-nova @mxgvmiii @mads-grace4 @bubblebeep69 @katluckybear @scuderiabarca @alwaysclassyeagle @simpingmyassoff @grlwithprblms @lqvesoph @pink-manz @graziemille @xxenia14 @nngkay @icedlattewithextracaramel @gyusrose @vip-access @julianalvarez9 @lavie3nrose @ge0rg1ewaa @i8yul @lovefordilfs271 @remuslupinluver @thattaylorswiftobsessedbitch @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @kaismybabe @notanenthucutlet @fullsun9890 @venomwh0re @renaissancewhxre @gaviandgrizisgirl @altgojo @urmomdotcom5678 @eliseline @invidia-of-alhambra @pixwls @stell4rrrs @80sloverry @car1no-xx @mrsgavira @888bear @kylianmbappee @ivyhrry @gaviypedrisbride @grlwithprblms @dessxoxsworld @user6373738
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koolades-world · 10 months
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Animal lover Mc!
y'all one of the first questions I had when I started playing obey me was "what is going to happen to my pets while I'm gone??" obviously I would find a way to bring them with me I will NOT be separated from my babies just for some hot demon men
currently I have three cats and a dog, all rescues and eight foster kittens, like, who's gonna feed that many critters for the whole durations of the exchange program not to mention I would miss them!
the first question mc is asking is "where is my entourage?" and when Dia asks what, they're gonna continue to describe their pets in a way only a pet owner would understand. Lucifer understands because he himself is a pet owner
"Welcome to the Devildom! Any questions?"
"where is my entourage?"
"What are you talking about?"
"you know, my zoo? my shadows? my cutie babies? my sillies? my children?"
"Oh, do you mean your pets?"
"Lucifer how did you understand that"
life in the HoL is about to get ten times more chaotic let me tell you
since my dog is a rescue we don't know too much about her past but she does not like tall men and omg what a coincidence! the HoL is all tall men!!1! anyone that doesn't look like me is a red flag to her she's super sweet though once you give her time (one time my school bestie shook a posterboard at her like three years ago and she still remember it to this day and hates him for it)
she warms up eventually if you respect her and listen to her whims but girl... we all know Lucifer would be too prideful to conform to what a dog wants that isn't Cerberus. Satan is a cat person, Beel is a literal giant, Levi would be afraid. she would def like Mammon since he kinda looks like my dad, Belphie is always asleep and therefore can't be a threat to her, and everyone loves Asmo! including me and my dog!
idk about other dogs but my dog just loves to beg and I give in every time. Beel is always eating and probably will give her a little too since he also seems like the puppy eyes would work on him.
I feel like dogs love Levi but he's probably afraid
"AWUBCUOBWVCGJ MC HELP"
"Levi we talked about this"
"THAT THING IS THE REAL DEMON"
"Are we talking about the same dog? The one that gets excited every time someone arrives home? The one that does a cute little roll over trick? The one that warms your feet on cold nights?"
"DEMON DOG"
"She's just looking at you"
"IT GOT CLOSER WVADUVJIOSUBSDFO"
"Not helping you"
all of my personal cats are kinda jerks lol... don't get me wrong I love them but like if you aren't used to them (or if they aren't used to you) you will get bitten. two of them have valid excuses, one is an old man, a curmudgeon if you will, and one is a blind kitten so she doesn't take well to new sounds, especially new voices. but my other cat, about three years old now is literally just a brat LOL he once attacked me in my sleep cause i moved a little too much love him tho
just cat things in general, they knock over everything on counters and shelves, they zoom around in the middle of the night, they attack ankles! Satan is in love but Lucifer nearly kicks them
the middle cat loves to sleep in my bed with me, like right on top of me. on my head, on my chest, on my stomach, on my shoulder, on my face. so like, there's no room for anyone else in my bed. yes there might physically be room but my cat's ego is so big there isn't room for another
sorry hot demon men my cat comes first
Belphie would make an excellent pillow for all cats, he's warm, he doesn't move much and he won't care
"Do you know where Belphie is?"
"My room, but don't bother."
"Why?"
"The cats have taken him as their own"
"THAT SHOULD BE ME"
The more Asmo doesn't want cats in his room the more the cats will want to enter his room
omg Satan is about to be your bestie so much quicker than in the original arc. I love the love and care that was placed into befriending Satan but this is the quickest way into his heart
"You must be the exchange student. I... what's in there?"
"My cats"
"Lucifer is letting you have them in the house?"
"Yes?"
"You're coming with me. Bring the cats."
"What does that mean? Do you like cats?"
"there are no words to describe my love for cats as deeply as I care for them. they are magnificent creatures. you have single handily done what I have tried to do for millennia. you are my best friend now"
"We will get along just fine"
This isn't even mentioning all of the strange Devildom critters Mc would def befriend
They drag a different brother along each time to feed weird animals that show up in their yard
Feeding stray cats with Satan!!
Dia would totally take them on expeditions to go see Devildom animals in the wild even during school days
Speaking of that, Dia also makes regular trips to the HoL to visit any and all pets
He will never hear the end of it from Barb oh god he will die from all the animal fur he brings back with him
I love rodents but Barb does not...
Nobody tell him that Mc may or may not have a rodent
Mc rescues all of the rats that Barb tries to eliminate and sets them free far away from the castle
the possibilities are endless with this might make a part two
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lostonmari · 4 months
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Stop Being a Victim.
A lot of y'all may be real mad at me.. but it must be said. Some of you are ADDICTED to suffering. There. I said it. I love the LOAss community, but sometimes some of yall need somebody to just yank you up by the collar of your shirt and get you together because the things some of yall say and do makes me wonder if you're actually even serious about wanting to manifest 😭
- Long, maybe encouraging rant below the cut.
I understand everyone has different struggles in their lives, so I'm sympathetic, but at some point... when do YOU take accountability and responsibility for yourself? What is the point of consuming LOA content all day and NEVER applying it? What is the point of asking coaches, bloggers, LOA twt accounts, 50 questions a day and NEVER applying it or listening to their advice?
YOU have to stand up. YOU have to stop letting life happen TO YOU and start MAKING it happen YOURSELF. Being passive is NOT something that will get you what you want when you're coming from an unfavorable mindset. No, I don't mean you have to go get a job to "MaNiFeSt" the money you've been affirming for. You never have to lift a finger for your manifestations (unless it's inspired action.) BUT, I am saying, you need to be consistent and stop the back and forth. Quit wavering!
You affirm for one day then you say it's not working. You affirm for a week then you say it's not working. You affirm for three months, you affirm 50000 times, you listen to a subliminal, you script, all of these things.. but you still say it's not working. It's NOT WORKING because YOU aren't letting it work! If YOU HAVE IT, then it is DONE! You don't have to check, you don't have to run around in circles or dance around a bonfire naked at the crack of dawn, YOU JUST HAVE TO LET IT BE. If you affirm, if you set your intention, repeat your visualizations, do SATS every night til the cows come home... No matter the method you use, all you have to know is that it is DONE. Let it be and let it happen. Stop causing your own delay then blaming manifestation or saying the law of assumption doesn't work.
And yes, it is the same when manifesting an SP or changing someone's behavior. HOW do you expect Mr. Man or Miss Woman or Mx Human to change when you are sitting there complaining to your bestie about how annoying they are, how they never do this, how they never do that? You are reaffirming what you DON'T want. Oh, wait now let me guess you found out SP has a partner now you're complaining to your friend about how you never get what you want or you'll never find your dream man/woman. SHUT UP! Just. KEEP. PERSISTING. IF you want him/her, then HE/SHE IS YOURS. Neville himself said IT BEST! "If it takes one person or ten thousand to aid the birth of your assumption, they will come." Don't give up just because of a minor inconvenience. You are GOD! Who is more perfect for your SP than you?
"But what if I have intrusive thoughts... I can't affirm or visualize" You have most likely had intrusive thoughts your whole life. Have you ever actually walked out in front of a train? Did you ever stab someone? No? Alright then. If you overthink THAT much, just affirm that your intrusive thoughts DON'T manifest. It's that simple. The point of an intrusive thought is that it's unwanted. You are not consciously persisting in those thoughts. You don't have to be afraid of them.
The point is. YOU are always in control. YOU always have the final say. If YOU say it works, then it works. Your desire will come to fruition. But you have to stop letting every single thing make you waver. You have to stop letting every person's limiting belief make you doubt yourself. You are GOD! Act like it and give yourself the life you deserve. You don't HAVE to suffer. You don't HAVE to be unhappy. You can change at ANY TIME. You just have to want it.
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The Doctor is a tragic character in the best Greek tragedy tradition.
So y'all know how the most common driving factor for intelligence to develop in species is if they're social? (Octopi aren't very social but let's ignore that real quick, the Doctor's a vertebrate anyway so invertebrate intelligence can probably be dismissed as irrelevant) Because after a point, more intelligence isn't really needed to avoid danger or gather food. But more intelligence does make it possible to communicate more efficiently, form more complex social bonds, eventually develop culture. Cue why social species tend to be more intelligent than solitary ones of otherwise comparable lifestyle. And cue why humanity is the way it is.
Now look at Gallifreyans. (I am purposefully ignoring the Timeless Child thing bc I don't rlly believe it and besides, even assuming it's true, The Doctor is similar enough to Gallifreyans to have flawlessly believed himself/themselves/herself to be one for 13+ regenerations, so anything that can be concluded to be true from analysis of Gallifreyans has good basis to be presumed true about the Doctor, whatever the fuck semantics you wanna use) So, Gallifreyans. A species much more advanced than according to DW canon humanity will ever be. More intelligent than humanity. High levels of education and not on the basis of private tutoring. Lives in cities. Has complex language and technology capable of instantly translating pretty much any language of any other species to be understandable to them. (Hell the TARDIS consistently still translates shit to English for the companions while they're outside it.) Complex social structure. That's one fucking social species.
And it gets better. The TARDIS is meant to be operated by a team of six. And even if River was joking about six, it's still clear that it should at least be more than one. Compare the Doctor steering the TARDIS alone to when he was with Susan. I mean, even those two looked like they could use an extra hand. Have you ever seen a human private use vehicle designed with 2+ pilots in mind? Definitely a species more social than humanity.
And the telepathy thing? Hello? Insanely, mind-boggingly social species.
Now take a being this fundamentally social and do something to them so that they see no recourse other than to take one (1) same-species (as far as he was aware disclaimer ig) companion, steal a ship they have little to no clue how to pilot, leave everything and everyone they've ever known and run without ever stopping for breath, no matter how much they miss home, no matter if it hurts. (And I do believe something must have happened to make him run like that, since the beggining, way before the Time War) Have them be scorned, judged, punished, mistreated and rejected by their species, again and again, for ages. Have them love, again and again, only to always lose everyone they've cared about, through abandonment or death. Have them essentially be forced to exterminate their whole species and believe themselves to be the last of their kind, only to be proven wrong by the whole Master situation, which alright is better, but also in some ways is worse. Have them, once again, form deep bonds with companions and once again lose all of them in various varyingly tragic ways until they have no hope left that anyone can ever truly stay for any amount of time even close to satisfactory, that love can for them end in anything but loss and pain. And they can't even avoid love altogether in an effort to spare themselves the inevitable agony of losing loved ones, because they're incapable of not growing to care for those around them. And they can't be without company either, because their sanity goes straight to hell in a handbasket within like,, 5 minutes of being alone.
Let me remind you this is not a human we're talking about. It's a member of a species much more inherently social than humanity. My point?
The Doctor is literally more lonely than the human brain can comprehend.
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yukipri · 3 months
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Ngl this is sorta making me queasy with excitement/nervousness...
Especially coming right on the tail of:
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So even though I will likely be a clown (again) this time tomorrow, here's what I wrote out in the twitter thread above:
Please @/starwars Obi-Wan Kenobi Season 2, this time with Ewan McGregor and Temuera Morrison as co-stars. There's closure now with Obi-Wan & Vader. Next, closure between the Jedi & the clones on Order 66, represented by the 2 we saw experience it first: Obi-Wan and Commander Cody
I know in the latest Obi-Wan comic, Obi-Wan basically goes "I miss Cody to this day, even though he tried to kill me. Ah well." And it just K*LLS me that that's it. Obi-Wan (and most the Jedi) have no clue that the clones were victims too.
Y'all are inserting Order 66 scenes in almost every show, so you can do it one more time, this time in an attempt to understand and gain closure. And this is a story that is genuinely best told through Obi-Wan and Cody. Palpatine sent the Order to Cody, first and most directly.
This is a story that doesn't need to mess with characters like Luke or Leia, who we know we'll see again. Cody is MIA as of TBB S2. Obi-Wan now also has some time after season 1, where we know he can't really be messing with Vader. This story can fit in well.
(heck, you can even insert more Clone Wars flashbacks, including young Ahsoka, you saw how much we all loved that in the Ahsoka show!) This show would let you share more about other clones and Jedi as well. Depending on how TBB S3 ends, we can have some connections there too.
PLUS! Temuera Morrison seems eager for a role. I'd love to see him again as Boba in TBOBF S2 (and have a whole 'nother pitch there), but Cody is a character that Tem personally originated in ROTS. He also had fantastic chemistry with Ewan as Jango!
So I'd love to see them share a screen again. (plus, age-wise, he's kinda closer to double-speed aged Cody than Boba?)
I could go on forever but…yes, please this.
(also can I help write it?😂😭🙏)
~~End Thread
But yeah, I know better than to get my hopes up, and I have been a clown about this many times before (including but not limited for the actual Obi-Wan S1 lmao).
So here I am with my clown mask ready: 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡
(Edit: added this in the tags but:
It does occur to me that another very possible route they could take an Obi-Wan Kenobi season 2 is doing something with Quinlan, since they left that very obvious thread open in S1.
BUT I would still prefer Cody & clones centric😭🙏)
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girlbloggen · 9 months
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school tips from a top student
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hello angels ! i've always been a top student and this school year i'm going to be a senior so i think i've gained enough school experience to give y'all some tips in case you need them 𔘓ㅤ
★ procrastinating is your biggest enemy
this is pretty much self explanatory but I wanted to include it because it's the reason most people don't do well at school. every minute that you waste procrastinating ruins everything because you won't be able to study/do the assignments at all or they won't end up being good because of your stress. don't do this to yourself.
★ get enough sleep
a good student always gets at least 8+ hours of sleep every night & especially during the exam season. i disagree with some people that think that its ok to not study at all for the rest of the school year and to just pull all nighters during the exam season to study the things they missed. sleep is very important because if you don't sleep you simply can't concentrate so you should never skip sleeping.
★ don't be late
don't be late in the morning and don't skip classes randomly & without a reason. even if you don't get a detention the teachers won't respect you because you are the one not respecting them in the first place.
★ lying to your teacher = lying to yourself
now if you lie about the reason that you're late or the reason that you didn't do the assignments you're disrespecting your own self. also sometimes teachers don't react when a student lies to them but that doesn't mean that they don't understand it. stop thinking that you're an evil genius and that you're capable of manipulating the teachers into thinking that you're innocent. you're not, stop being delusional.
★ be two steps ahead, when it's possible
that's hard and of course it's not always possible but it's a good idea because that way you will be informed about the topic that you're going to learn so you'll be able to participate more actively in class & it will be easier for you to memorize the info.
★ look good to feel good
it's a fact that if you look neat & pretty you will be more motivated to do well in school because you'll be more confident, so take some time to pick a nice outfit, take a shower & even try a cute hairstyle.
★ but beauty shouldn't be your #1 priority rn
yes it's important to look & feel pretty but that's not the reason you're in school so it shouldn't distract you. I know girls that put too much effort in the way they look that they completely forget about their assignments.
★ discover how your brain works
if you already haven't, I suggest you to discover the way your brain memorizes faster info. some people have to write down things to learn them while others memorize easier things they hear. whatever it is it can help you to find a studying method that works for you.
★ find yourself a few productive distractions
distractions should be avoided in general but a boring schedule is bad for you too. to avoid a boring repetitive schedule find some productive things you can do other than studying for school. like practice some kind of sport or an art or learn foreign languages. keep in mind that ivy league schools appreciate people that are good students at school but at the same time they have more interests like sports or art. so bonus points if you want to get into an ivy league.
★ avoid drama at all costs
please, whatever you do, avoid drama. this is already a very stressful period of your life because you're a teenager & a student so stay away from things that can ruin your mental health and sabotage you. don't get into fights.
★ wrong (!!) time to party
I know that partying is fun but rn it's a wrong time of your life to party. partying can lead to procrastination & it can also ruin both your mental and your physical health. also most parties are full of drama and that can distract you. I know so many top students whose school performance went downhill when they magically transformed into party animals.
★ you simply don't care about other people
you shouldn't care about what your parents, your friends, your teachers, your school's mean girls etc think. you have goals to chase and that's what should concern you rn. other people don't exist to you. it's only you & your goals. be self-centered & goal-oriented. it sounds mean but it can save you.
★ treat yourself
you don't need others to congratulate you for your achievements. be the first one who does. every time you achieve something treat yourself by doing something you love. like buy a lipgloss, do your selfcare routine, eat your fav snack. you deserve it.
★ keep your standards high
don't let the society gaslight you into thinking that your standards are too high. I'm pretty sure that every person can achieve great things in their lifetime. even if you can't get something don't feel bad about it & be proud of yourself because at least you tried. don't be negative. there's a greater possibility to reach your goals if you give them a try. you can do it !
I really hope this was helpful ! If you need to ask me something my ask box & my dms are open <3
xoxo, a
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