#college core memory actually

[ollie-jpg]

tonight our smoke detector started going off while my roommates and i were watching a barbie movie & we couldn’t get it to shut up so i went door to door and tried to find a replacement battery with. wet hair and pajamas and a dream hoodie on and NOBODY HAD A BATTERY so we had to drive to the store. in the freezing weather. in my shorts with wet hair and a dream hoodie and pajamas to spend seven dollars on a battery for my smoke detector but honestly it was so fun

#ollie talks #also when i wear pajamas i don’t wear my bra because fuck i’m not going to bed in one of those things #braless equals freedom #so i walked around in public with not only a dream hoodie on. but i had no bra either sjdjjcje #truly my lowest moment #but i was happy and it was fun #college core memory actually

[phantomskeep]

Smol death warning? It's just mentioned a few times but I don't want to trigger anyone D: I'm being sappy in this aidhsisb

I don't like a lot of things about college. Shitty dorms, hard classes, stressing over the tests, and having to wear a scratchy uniform from 6am until 5pm? Not my cup of tea.

But, driving down the beach roads with my best friends in the car while absolutely blasting the Bluey soundtrack? After spending pretty much all day catching up, watching the Puss in Boots movies, dragging one of our friends into the Bluey cult kicking and screaming? That's the stuff I love. It's what reminds me why I love my friends. Why, despite every shitstorm this godforsaken campus offers me (from having to hike through the muddy wastelands my freshman year looking for a dead student, that same night losing a friend through a medical emergency, having a serial killer running around campus, from almost getting a pallet of supplies dropped on my head from a crane, having my favorite teachers leave, getting chased by coyotes and boars, and dealing with this entire school's staff not knowing how to run anything) I still am so thankful to be here.

I love my friends. I love making random trips to the shops in the middle of the night. I love trying to convince each other to not spend all our money on random shit we don't need. I love having dance battles. I love bitching to each other when AO3 is down. I love going to conventions and Ren Faires with them.

They're the reason I find happiness here.

#im being sappy #college #bluey #death warning #i had a core memory #and im living off the high rn #college sucks #but my friends #they make it fun #bluey is amazing #sorry this is really sappy #university #its been a wild four years #i could write a book #and everyone would thinks its fiction #its not #this actually happened to me #some dude brought a brick of coke onto the schools ship #then we were told to never come back #was a wild summer

[getodrools]

𐙚 CHEATING BUT PASSING: CHOSO KAMO!

IN WHICH, virgin! choso is more than willing to do all of your assignments as long as he can keep his grimy — incel freak hands on you.

I 𝓲. I MDNI ୨୧ f! reader. college au. dry humping + panty fucking manipulation. he whimpers :(. premature ejaculation. cumshot. mentions of: gojo x reader. | WC –> 1.0k+ est ! !

NOTE. this is a repost from my old blog !! :p

CHOSO ALWAYS THINKS THIS is a win-win situation—of some sort. being able to clasp clammy hands to your sides and to rut shamelessly against you; as long as he did your jujutsu tech assessments, first. but even as he does work hard on your own homework, he still gets to hang out with a pretty, popular girl like you.

so, win-win.

“c–choso, wait! i-- slow down—hey! be careful.” you sigh heavily before blowing messy hair out from your face, trying to stay calm as the man behind you fumbled around with your skirt to pull over the globes of your perk ass.

feeling warm breath, “pretty… so pretty… ” choso lays all ten lithe fingers across your ass before squeezing at the jiggly flesh into a vice grip—dammned he would leave an outline of his print, jagged nails too, feeling them cut the shape of crescents into your soft skin. gross.

“i know, just… take it easy.” without having to see that cherry kissed face of his, you know he unconsciously nodded, frantically too.

you still felt him groping and molding your ass around in his hold regardless though. that hollow promise was quickly thrown out the window.

especially, when choso catches the view of your soiled, cute little panties; a damp, dark spot circling around your sopping slit, almost drooling down the thick of your thigh.

choso could feel his heart jump up his throat and bounce straight down to his cock, feeling himself beginning to swell then get harder – it hurt too at the sudden ache panging between his legs, but this pretty sight of you bent over and…

turned on..? by him? was certainly etching a core memory into his brain.

his slick tongue runs over dry lips, “are you—”

“i just got back from gojo’s. you're not special.” you wiggle your ass upwards in hopes he would just get on with it… and the distraction works, hearing him suck in a breath of air through gritted teeth at the remark but quick with his hands.

soft cloth from the crotch of his pants presses hard against your body. choso jerks his hips upwards – his cock practically beating through his brutal confines, almost bursting through the buckle as he jutted against you hopelessly, searching for a rhythm…

choso’s head cranes back, lolling off to the side as he held you close while bending his knees, almost buckling to get a better angle to press more firmly against your clothed cunt. wriggling his own hips to feel more of that warm wetness seeping through, but through thick clothes like his own was a restriction, a brutal one at that.

“can... can i take off my pants and—”

“cum on any of my clothes, i will kill you.” that's all he needed to hear, being quick with it too; clasping his buckle and letting his pants crinkle to the floor.

the sauntering man quickly curled long fingers around the base of his cock; gripping a firm grasp to stroke his length hard with a slight twist to his tip – watching how the uncut skin glides over and swipes away the pearls of drooling pre as he did.

and you sat there, impatiently tinkering with the charms on your phone – ‘till the hefty feel of a nudging cock prods at your panties.

the sensation of his bulbous crown kissing your clothed slit was new… to say the least as he felt on you, sliding the hardness of his warm pulsing cock up and down your panties. even between the globes of your ass, and squeezing them together to suffocate his shaft.

this was new—actually, feeling choso’s length caress against the folds of your cunt was altogether, new. it brought a new sort of imagery from him to come flooding; fuck, he's big… and a lot more than you expected—damn, something no one would expect.

pure chastity. his cock wasn't just thick in size, but overwhelmingly big, practically feeling the pulsing veins wrapping around his base beat at every feathery touch.

maybe… he was special…

scratch that, choso let out a soft… whimper?

total loser.

this is the closest he's been near pussy—ever. and it was so obvious the first time you brought up this deal with him; the shock on his face was almost paralyzing, practically stuttering even through heavy breaths of confusion. but luckily, choso—of course, bought it. and ever since, he's been a feen to even do extra credit work for you even when it's not needed – too hooked up on the thought of humping your body every time he gets you an a+…

the fabric softener you used helped his cock smooth easier across the cloth.

so soothing, he thinks, while frothing over your body that bounces along with his. watching how the curvature of your spine arches into a deep bow, and how your hips fill in nicely into his hands, even how your puffy lips pressed through your panties, practically kissing and sandwiching his cock every time he slid himself over was mouth-watering.

yet, this was still the same thing you've both been doing for a very long while now, just fewer clothes…

oh?

your eyes peel open wide, pretty head even spinning around like an owl at the foreign feel of choso pressing the crown of his cock harder against your clothed cunt; almost pressing your panties inside of you at the rough thrust forward.

“heh, are you trying to actually fuck me?” you want to giggle. the soft lewd expression drooling over his face was adorable. his mouth left hanging agape, eyes hooded and set low, even his nose crinkled up at the suctioning feel wrapping around his blushing tip.

“euuh, i--” he’s trying so hard to mutter out words, but only incoherent babbles spew out – all thoughts and focus were set on this new feeling. practically, fucking you with a condom—a heart-lacey condom of thin cloth…

“you wish.” you roll your eyes and make yourself more comfortable; settling your tummy on the desk in your dorm and wriggle your ass up more for him.

choso takes this chance to wisp the tips of his fingers to hook around your sides harder to help stable himself from buckling as he watched with greedy eyes; entranced how he's practically fucking you. choso was trying so hard to push himself deeper, but the restricting panties blanketing around him as he attempted, forces his hips back in a ache.

it tickled – for you, the fabric of your own soiled garments tease at your gummy walls at each frantic thrust choso barrels into you with. this new, almost fuck was intriguing… and pathetic how hard he was trying to feel more of you.

catching your bottom lip between your teeth, you hear his breathing become heavier. it was cracking into whines as he was losing it from this enticing reality.

choso’s hands grip hard around your sides – bruising too as he felt his balls tightening. his hips were beginning to stutter, legs almost buckling. he reached a certain limit to rut harder—desperately, feeling a sudden rush shoot up his spine.

he lets out another, final whimper.

“ah!-- what did i tell you!” the warmth of a puddle of creamy cum spurts right against your clothed slit, almost oozing through your panties and seeping between your folds from the hard press of his hips trying to shove himself as deep as he could.

it was a lot. warm too. choso popped his heavy knot of spunk right on you, and in no shame, his head rolls to his chest with squeezing eyes.

“get… gojo to buy you some new clothes then…”

<– BACK: PINNED ౨ৎ NEXT: MORE CHOSO –>

#🌐 𝐿𝒜𝒱𝐼𝐼 𝒲𝑅𝐼𝒯𝐸𝒮! #ᝰ choso kamo! #choso kamo #choso #choso x reader #jjk choso #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #choso smut

[itsbecomeblue]

glue 002 ellie williams imagine

don't dare forget about palestine

sinopse: you might have a crush on your friend, college!au

cw: swearing, basically fluff, ellie plays soccer, puppy love again because that's my thing, slightly nerdy loser!ellie, reader and ellie are oblivious, not explicit if reader is fem or masc, not exactly proofread.

you had been up all morning, not up really, awake. it was 11:43 when you actually got up, sick to your core. niyah had checked on you before she left for her classes, leaving you some cash for lunch, it's not like you didn't have any but niyah just felt like a mom sometimes. she also gave you a forehead kiss.

you rubbed your eyes while your other hand hugged your aching stomach. you grabbed your phone and squinted at the brightness of the screen.

“shit fuck.” you hissed, boy did your head hurt. you had suspicions that ellie had made so much nervousness pile up in you that it was threatening to explode your head and your poor stomach.

you had always been a little… anxious and got nervous when you hung out with new people, especially without your best friends. they were your safe space, you smiled sweetly thinkin about them, so you read over the texts on your group chat ‘take ur meds’. never the instagram one, because it's just your friend luana spamming instagram reels.

you laughed at your phone, turning it off just to wait for your friends to show up, you knew they would. you grabbed a piece of fruit and sat down again.

you grabbed your little notebook where you did all of your journaling, you always read some pieces before actually writing in it, so you did that. ‘ellie’ this ‘ellie’ that, from just last night before you got sick. but maybe you had already been sick from the moment she stepped into the room.

sick in your stomach, crippling nervousness. you and ellie hung out so much 1 on 1, so you assumed that's what happens when two anxious people get together to talk alone, even though you had known each other for a while now. you didn't give it much thought, well maybe you did. you wrote in pink ink...

‘she's so cute’ ummm late night thoughts were so funny to read over, right? just hilarious. ‘ellie williams #8’ adorned with stars and hearts? you were already sick last night, for sure!

on the other side of campus, ellie was at class but her mind was on the same side of campus as yours. ellie was very much in tune with her feelings for you, she'd say. ‘we're so awkward, we need to get closer!’ that's all you two needed, right? just that. she sighted, you looked at her adorned name in your notebook, she imagined your face adorned with flowers and asteroids?

she needs to pay attention in class! she'll think about you later, she wants to text you but she'll see you at lunch anyways so she decides against the text. ellie tried her best to focus on her boring class, impatiently waiting to see you again.

abby had texted you a few to let you know she was coming over, she was your childhood friend, inseparable at that. caring and loving, gentle giant abigail anderson. she was now on your carpet in front of you bed.

“so, did you take your meds?” she laughed, abby was a med student and definitely a good one but damn her she didn't know shit about pharmacy.

they might’ve teached her some of it, but this girl had very selective memory, it's not like you know what they teach at med school anyway. but you still thought she should cure you everytime you got sick, all your other friends agreed too.

“yep, i looked it up. turns out my friend being in med school doesn't serve me anything.” you stretched my leg to touch her with your feet and she gave you a disgusted look.

“you're such a bitch to me, i came to see you, sick girl.” she grabbed you by the ankle and pulled you with no force.

“abbyyy!” you laughed and tried yanking your feet back and she used more of her strength. she laughed with you and you felt less sick.

you two kept it up until you were falling off your bed onto her, she grabbed your torso, manhandling you so you looked at her. she looked mischievous, she had something up her sleeve.

“how's our favorite soccer star?” she smirks and you look scared, head jumping up and hitting hers. “hey! ouch lil girl…”

she soothed her head before soothing yours, with harsh pats... you weren't sure if she was soothing you or actively making it worse. you both laughed again, what the hell was wrong with you? you had slipped out of her thighs and sat on the carpet, right next to her.

“she's…” you coughed. “she's alright, i saw her yesterday.” you nodded to yourself and abby nodded back.

“right… right…” abby stared at you, smirk still in her lips, waiting for something.

you thought of what she might’ve wanted you to say. you used your brain so much that you realized something, eyes widened and eyebrows furrowed.

"what? you look like you developed your first thought.” she chuckled and you looked frightened.

“i forgot to tell her i'm sick.” you searched for your phone around the carpet and the bed.

“why would you have to tell her?” abby leaned back, watching you look for you phone.

"you know, even if she was a nurse in your wet dream, i don't think she can help.” she added when you ignored her.

“abby.” you actually slapped her nape and she hissed. “we were supposed to have lunch together, i don't wanna be rude and leave her hanging.”

“oooohh you're bailing her on your lunch date.” abby loved pressing your buttons and she knew which ones to press.

“yeah, our date at the campus cafeteria, abigail.” you found your phone under a pillow, one that you were sure you checked before. whatever, you texted ellie.

“abigail is crazyyy…” abby got up and peeped your phone from behind and you pushed her face, the fat on her cheek smushed. “sweetness, let me see.”

abby had a big sweet tooth growing so when you became friends, her dad started calling you tooth and sweetness, since she could never get enough of you. she clinged to it even now, when she was being nice but really often when she pissed you off.

“fine, tooth.” you caressed the cheek you had pushed. she laughed and playfully bit your shoulder as you turned off your phone.

“it's fine, y/n. she'll understand, of course.” abby slurred, you turned to her.

“yeah, i know. i wanted to see her though.” you rubbed your nose sitting on the carpet again, followed by abby.

“you'll see her soon, it's alright.” she patted your head and you looked at her blankly. “what? don't wanna see me too?” she pushed you head and snickered.

“i do, stop abby!” you laughed, pushing her back.

“you gotta crush and now you're gonna abandon me and lua.” she shook her head. “you won't abandon niyah because you live with her, but who knows! you might move in with ellie.”

“what are you even talking about?” you chuckled at her while she tried to maintain a serious face. “i'm not abandoning anyone.”

"AHA! so you do have a crush on ellie, lil girl…” she laughed loud, slapping her knee, now it was your turn to maintain a serious face while she laughed.

“first, you’re not funny. second, i don't have a crush on anyone.” she arched her eyebrow you held her temples, pressing her eyebrows back to their place. “stop, i don't”.

“be for real with me, pookie wookie.” you cringed hard with her.

“you can leave.” you both laughed so loud until she stopped and tapped your lap. “but she makes me nervous.”

“i know she does, might be something, don't you think?”

“mmm, i don't think so, we're both pretty anxious people so…” you shrugged and abby did too, she'd never pry.

“you might be right, time will tell.” she casually says as gets up. “you wanna order some? “i'm hungry.” you nod and she takes her phone out.

ellie on the other hand, is frowning at your texts, she's upset she won’t see you and she's upset you're sick. she immediately texted her friends dina and jesse about it, asking to have lunch with them instead.

she'd waited for them to meet up with her on campus, holding her phone. she wanted to text you again, but you probably needed rest so she opted out to spam texting cat, who wouldn't reply to the groupchat texts. cat was a fucking ghost most of the times, even when they dated... girl gets busy. when dina and jesse finally got there they walked together.

“y/n bailed on you, damn.” jesse shook his head ironically and dina rolled her eyes.

“shut up, jesse.” dina tickled his ear and smirked. they were walking towards the local subway.

“yeah shut up, she's sick dude.” ellie replied, with little to no humor.

her friends noticed. her hands were in her jeans pockets and she was looking down, jesse and dina knew her all to well to know she was even just slightly upset. childhood friends are like that, you'd know. abby was exactly like that with you.

“what's wrong?” jesse asked, palming her shoulder. dina stopped walking but ellie kept going, making them get back to walking too.

“nothin’. it's dumb, i just miss y/n or whatever.” ellie slurred, looking at her sneakers. jesse and dina chucked and she snickered.

“okay, okay. my bad.” jesse looked sternly at dina so she'd stop laughing. “you had plans?”

“actually yeah, i was gonna invite her to see me play saturday.” she looked up.

“it's wednesday, man. you can ask her later.” jesse started. “right?” he looked for ellie's eyes.

“as in a date?” dina asked, not afraid to. ellie was always open with them, she wasn't embarrassed by her feelings even though sometimes she was confused.

“nah, not a date. and yes i can ask later, but i get nervous and… i dunno.” she held her fingers as she sighed.

“just say it, els.” dina chuckled, jesse and ellie chuckled back.

“yeah, alright. i want her to see me play but i get nervous to ask and i thought i’d do it today.” ellie laughed at herself. dina and jesse nodded, they understood her.

“it's alright, you will ask. don't worry, she's gonna be thrilled.” jesse slapped ellie's back and dina looked at him in disgust.

"thrilled" dina mocked jesse, holding her fingers up as quotes.

they all busted out laughing as they got closer to the subways shop, talking about the saturday game, but never distracted ellie from the thoughts of you.

taglist: @mikellie @amberputh @ellslvr @elliesactualgirlfriend @macaroni676 @onlinelesbo @aispike @kalyxvfx @ellieschair

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x fem reader #lover girl!ellie #ellie imagine #ellie x masc reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie wiliams #ellie fluff #ellie williams imagine #ellie drabble #ellie williams drabble #college!ellie williams #college!au #modern au #modern!ellie williams #glue 𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖🩹

[stealingyourbones]

So, I'm new to DC. Your twin has been helping me get caught up on the basics. But from what I understand, the actual way Jason was brought back from the dead is either ignored or poorly explained. The pit came about when Talia found him after he already came back.

Now, what if when Jason died, he became a ghost and had a home island in the ghost zone. And became friends with the local reigning monarch (I like to think Danny was complaining about English and Jason heard and started tutoring him, but the how isn't very important).

Well, Jason is still caught up on his unfinished business in Gotham. The Zone doesn't have much need for a boy hero and he isn't ready to give that up. So he decides to go to Desiree and wish for his life back. She sends him back, but without his ghost core. Which is part of the reason he's so unstable. It has the side effect of him losing his memories of his time in the zone.

So Danny is in Gotham. Depending on the ship you like, he's looking at colleges for himself or Jazz. Or maybe it's a Casper High field trip and the fic is gen. And while there, Danny sees his friend Jason who disappeared into his core and hasn't been able to be helped since. All any ghost knows is that he was seeking out Desiree before whatever happened to him.

Anyway, I've no time to do anything with this. But it's an idea I had! Hope some others enjoy it.

Oh shit I’ve seen so many fics with Jason being a human with a core but having that prolonged rage because he lacks a core?! Oh that’s a fascinating concept.

Would he even be able to form another core at all? Is it unfixable? Does he have urges to, instead of brutally injuring someone, just flat out kill them instead? The reason being that he’s subconsciously trying to take the cores of the newly formed ghosts to continue living?

Oh god ok this is a completely separate idea now but I propose this: Jason is without a core and has to steal and consume ghost cores Vampire style to continue on living.

Ok back to the original idea: I absolutely adore it. Big question is how does Jason get his core back?

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dc comics #writing prompts #dpxdc #dp x dc prompt #bones replies #wolfjackle

[jeonqkooks]

jungkook #33 from the fluff list 💗 (even better if its like fboy badboy jungkook getting flustered and shy around oc hehe)

daft pretty boys | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

prompt: "i can't think around you."

rating: G

word count: 0.8k

genre/warnings: classmates to .. lovers?, college au, basketball captain!jk, he's neither a fuck boy nor a bad boy he's just a cute boy <3, fluff, swearing as per uzh, i plagiarized MYSELF bc the shit mentioned here was actually taken from my final paper for a film class two years ago lmaooooooo

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

If there's one thing that Jungkook absolutely despises, it's when people think jocks are dumb. It's a common misconception and it's downright hurtful sometimes; just because Jungkook is the basketball captain, doesn't mean that anybody has the right to assume he's got hay for brains.

However, if someone were to come up to him right now and say it to his face, he probably wouldn't disagree.

"So yeah, if they lose the memories of these relationships, I think they'd also be losing parts of themselves that make them whole, because an individual's identity is an accumulation of multiple smaller identities they have with every single intimate relationship that ultimately forms one collective identity, y'know?" you finish, and it's not until then that Jungkook comes back down to earth, realizing that he's just been staring at you this whole time. "Anyway, what do you think?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah! Same, uhm," Jungkook stammers. "I also thought about their collective relationsh- I mean, collective identity and multiple identities and-"

You purse your lips as you take in his whole demeanor, like a nervous child fumbling with his words. "Did you not watch the movie?"

He did watch the movie. In fact, Jungkook watched it three times over the weekend because that's how much he liked it. When he registered for this class - History of Popular Cinema - at the end of last semester, he was hoping that it'd be an easy elective so he could focus more on basketball and his core courses. And for the most part, this film class is easy. All he has to do is watch movies and hand in a few short essays every now and then. Piece of cake.

Then the final paper rolls around and the professor assigns everybody a partner to work with. In theory, it should still be a piece of cake, because there still isn't that much to do anyway.

So why is it so fucking hard all of a sudden?

Jungkook had never really noticed you before you became his designated collaborator for the month. Never saw you on campus, never saw you attending the games. Hell, he didn't even know your name until this final assignment.

"I watched it," he defends himself lamely.

"Okay. And?"

"It was good."

You frown, and all Jungkook can think about is how adorable that crease between your eyebrows is. How he just wants to reach across the table and smooth it over, or better yet, kiss it away.

He's fully aware of how stupid he must look, with his sweaty palms and his words falling over each other like goddamn Jenga pieces, in front of a girl that he's been obsessed with for weeks now. Jungkook doesn't normally do crushes, but the more time he spends with you to work on this lame ass paper, the more he finds his mind drifting to you even when you're not in his vicinity.

He thinks you're so pretty when you absentmindedly bite your lip whenever you're concentrating. He thinks you always smell like jasmine, and he's delighted by how your scent lingers on his own clothes after every time you meet, like he's carrying home a reminder of you. He thinks you're ten leagues smarter than him when you text him whole paragraphs detailing how postmodern filmmakers flirt with the concept of identity fragmentation through different types of cinematic manifestation as a reflection of the realistic postmodern person, because what the fuck does that even mean?

"You're not doing a very good job at convincing me you watched the movie," you say.

Jungkook groans internally - and a little externally too - as he runs a hand down his face. "I watched it, I promise," he tells you. "I watched it, and I really liked it. It made me think about a lot of deep shit that I don't normally think about."

"Uh huh," you say slowly. Your frown is still there, but now it's embedded in confusion as you try to understand his dilemma. "Then tell me about that. What was the deep shit?"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

How is he supposed to explain that every single thought he had suddenly grew legs and yeeted itself out the window the second he saw you arrive today, wearing a stunning smile and a t-shirt that says Caution: Full of Shenanigans? Not once in his entire life had Jungkook felt so no thoughts, head empty.

"Because I can't think around you," he settles on being honest. "Because I keep thinking about you when you're not here, yet when you are, I can't even think at all."

It takes a minute for his words to sink into your brain, and Jungkook watches nervously as a blush spreads across your cheeks, so rosy that he just wants to grab your face and pepper kisses all over. For the first time since he has known you, you don't know how what to say.

The sight of you, rendered speechless by him being rendered an idiot, has Jungkook blushing too. Despite the patch of bashful silence that ensues, somewhere outside the metaphorical windows of his and your minds, both your thoughts are riding off into the sunset together, holding hands.

all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 27.05.2023]

#jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagines #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bangtanbathhouse #bangtantheatrenet #btshoneyhive #clubzerooclock #52hertz #fic: daft pretty boys

[gavisuntiedboot]

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 7

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue

Warnings: oh boy okay so Angst! profanity! Violence! Mentions of blood! Injury! Abusive-ish behavior!!! MARTIN!!!!!! Ferran! Blackmail!! Just shitty behavior!!!! pls don't read if you're not comfortable!

Word Count: 14.1k (fun fact! If you've read all 7 parts, you've read 87 pages single space!)

A/N: Guys this is one of the chapters I had planned out from the beginning. I really have poured a lot of my own soul into this, so I hope y'all enjoy! I'm actually so ready to read the reactions to this one lol. GIF by @rubendiasatl

You thought you had met the love of your life in college. He appeared to be perfect. He was the captain of the swim team, rumored to get a national championship that year in the 100m freestyle. He was the secretary of Phi Pi Delta, the largest business fraternity in the region, set to work on Wall Street making $200k right after graduation. You two were the perfect couple: Ryan, with his perfect hair and perfect smile, the sexy, sporty Spanish girl on his arm. You were conquering medicine as he ruled the world of finance. Sometimes on your walk to class, you would daydream about what your wedding would look like.

You did everything that was required of you as "Ryan's girl". You were an academic badass, but in a completely different field, so he could have a smart girl that would never be his competition. You worked as a sports manager, showing that "Ryan's girl" was a powerhouse on her own that commanded respect, but turned into a shy little lamb around her man. You worked hard and played harder, going to every PPD event and mixer. You always drank to show people that you weren't a prude, but you were never the girl hunched over the toilet losing her innards. You were good at beer pong, but only when Ryan was your partner. You played 7 minutes in heaven, but were so cold and intimidating that everyone left with blue balls and a muttering of "what a bitch". For 8 months of your senior year, you were "Ryan's girl", and you were the absolute best at playing the part.

It was a tiring job, but one you balanced with all your other actions. You learned how to get him and his friends basketball tickets mere hours before tipoff. You were an expert at covering hickies, but also enhancing them when he wanted to prove to the guys at a rival frat that he wasn’t soft. You killed your complaints and your gag reflex, knees growing used to the rough carpet of the frat house. You never asked for his location, and never made a face when other girls talked about how much they wanted your man. You never bored him with talks of your futures after graduation. You were perfect.

You looked perfect the day you walked into the frat house, hair pulled back in a slick ponytail to show off the piercings in your ear and the tightness of your polo shirt. Your khakis hugged your thighs, Jordan’s pristine as you slipped them off before heading upstairs. The basketball team had offered you a full time position; you could stay for the next several years if you so chose. Everything was perfect. The sky was the perfect shade of blue. The air was the perfect temperature with a perfect breeze. And as you opened the door to your boyfriend’s room, you saw a bare figure on top of him, connected at their cores, with her mouth shaped in a perfect “O”. And one perfect tear ran down your cheek as you silently walked back down the stairs, ignoring the yells about it not being what it looked like, and left Ryan behind forever.

You hadn’t thought about Ryan in years. But his memory came back to you as you pulled up to Martin’s house and found his car parked out in front of his door instead of it’s usual place in the garage. The Benz stared back at you, looking so different from that first date. It had been bright and welcoming and joyous that very first time it rolled up in front of your building. Now it was different, the blue taking on a more hue, feeling ominous and serious. It was the color of midnight - the color of fear. Why was the precious Benz parked out front? Martin wouldn't even let some valets park his car for fear of it getting scratched. His tires were still turned. The Benz was crooked in the driveway.

You walked up to the door, and you thought about Ryan again. You thought about the countless texts he sent you afterwards, telling you how much he loved you and how he would never do it again. And you read every single one, waiting with baited breath for him to say what you needed to hear: that he regretted it. That he had made a terrible mistake when he was out of his mind and he hated every second. But it never came. He wanted you, but he never regretted that moment with her. He never felt remorse about the moment he decided she was more important than you were. It didn't make you sad or angry - just empty. It was like a hold had been carved out, and it was another reminder that it would never be filled. You would never be the first choice. You would never be that girl that was above it all. You would always be a pretty good girl that needed to be supplemented by someone else.

The hole within you had not been filled, but it started to be covered by some good people in your lives. Your friends at your physiology program made you always feel competent and capable in what you were doing in school. Angelika and your other university friends gave you comfort, covering the emptiness with warm feelings. And now, you had the boys at Barca had worked to cover that hole with positive affirmations, reminding you that you were just as much a part of the team and how much you were valued. And there was a bit of the hole that started to close, one centimeter at a time, every time you looked at your phone and saw that Gavi was checking up on you.

You felt that hole fill with butterflies as you wrote out your Christmas card to him. You hadn't wanted it to come across as cheesy or desperate, despite you reassuring yourself that you couldn't be desperate if you were in a relationship. You had begged the media team for any photo of you and Gavi, knowing how much the sentiment would mean to him. One thing you had noticed during your two brief appearances in Pablo's home was his appreciation for the few pictures he had. They were taped to the wall beside the door: photos from his youth at his La Masia matches, his family on vacation, and a polaroid with a few of the Barca boys. A part of you hoped you would make it onto the wall.

But with each knock on Martin's door that went unanswered, the butterflies disintegrated, filling you with smoke and ash and bile, the hole in your very soul aching. As you turned the doorknob, you felt it give way easily - the door was unlocked. He had come home, car parked haphazardly, with the door remaining unlocked. You braced yourself, not exactly sure for what, and entered the house.

You should have seen it coming. You should have known from his demeanor and the way he spoke to you when you were with him versus when you were away. You should have listened to the whispers on the internet and in the locker room. But you ignored it all, believing that people were inherently good and caring. And now your naivety had all culminated and led to this moment: you standing in Martin's entryway, staring at his hideous brown couch, a trail of clothes leading from your feet to the naked girl perched on the dark fabric. The two of you locked eyes, and her mouth dropped agape. She grabbed the closest piece of fabric to cover her bare form, her pale cheeks turning scarlet from embarrassment.

"Bonita, hurry up so I can call my girl-"

Martin's eyes locked with yours, stopping dead in his tracks and freezing as his girl on the couch did. You waited for either of them to speak. With baited breath you waited for the feminine screams of "you have a girlfriend?" and the begs to provide an explanation. But the air was heavy with nothing but guilt and the disappointment of being caught. As your breath grew heavier, the nausea settled into your stomach. You tried to muster a tear, deciding it would be less embarrassing to cry than to throw up on the tile.

"Bonita, it's not what it looks like. If we could just talk-"

"How are you going to use the same pet name for the both of us?" You asked, patience finally snapping. The emotions from the last four months came flooding through, boiling the blood in your veins. You had cut yourself up and torn your very being apart to please this man. The things you wore and said and did and ate and enjoyed were all altered to fit his impossible standard. You were playing a part again. You had sacrificed so much of yourself for one crumb of affection and security, and once again you weren't enough.

"Just calm down an let me explain."

You tried with every fiber of your being to keep the tears at bay - you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he hurt you.

"All I ever did was try and be a good girlfriend. Do you realize that? Through the stupid dinner dates and your rants about football, I tried to be patient and fun and understanding. I never complained, not once, about your lack of support or how everything you did made it clear you didn't like me. I dealt with all of your cold fronts, your unfounded jealous, your below mediocre sex - all of it, because that's what you do when you're in a fucking relationship until someone finally cuts the cord and frees you both. But you didn't have the decency to pretend." You spat the words out at him, no longer caring about if you cried.

"The least you could do was not fuck anyone else in the house that you asked me to move in to."

Everyone on the room had gone silent, from Martin to his mistress. How could he retaliate? Where could he start? The flood gates had been opened, and the realization of how much this man made you hate your life was flowing freely.

"Goodbye Martin." You turned and walked out the door, your keys in hand, ready to go home and lose consciousness. Tomorrow you would wake up and be as you were - single and free of the burden this relationship placed on you.

"Come back here." You heard Martin's voice shout behind you, before a hand reached out and grabbed you by the wrist, ripping your keys from your hands, cutting your palm in the process. As the red fluid pooled in your palm, you looked up at Martin in shock and fear. He looked back at you, then at your outstretched hand still pooling with blood.

"Shit, I'm- I didn't mean to do that. But you can't just drive away until you let me speak. I won't let you."

"As if you're allowed to decide what I can and can't do. Give me back my keys before I call the police."

"You're not calling anyone or doing anything until I speak to you." Martin said, lunging at you and grabbing the sleeve of your shirt. You cried out and struggled against him as he tried to pull you towards the house, hoping to prevent a scene in front of the neighbors. Martin's side piece stood at the door, now fully clothed, watching silently as the two of you struggled by the entryway.

"Get off of me you cheating sack of shit! I don't want to hear anything you have to say, let me go!" His grip loosened as you pulled away, unable to restrain you with both hands for fear you would take your car keys back.

"Bonita, I'm not trying to hurt you, I love you and I-"

"Bullshit! And stop calling me fucking bonita." You tried to reach for your keys again, but Martin's hand came and wrapped tightly around the collar of your shirt.

"No. You don't get to abandon me without hearing what I have to say. All I have ever done is try and look past how difficult you are to love and be around," his grip tightened on your collar, the fabric now bunching to restrict your airway slightly. "And now that I've made one mistake you think you get to just run? You're not going anywhere until I say you can. If you know what's good for you, you'll just listen."

The bile started to rise in your throat as your heart beat faster. For the first time in your life, you really felt like you were in danger. The sting of your palm was hard to ignore now, the blood nestling into the lines on your palm, dots littered across your pant leg. Once you felt Martin's grip loosen lightly, you put all your weight behind you and shoved him as hard as you could, causing him to fall backwards. You bolted for the door, keys forgotten as you ran at a speed you didn't know you were capable of.

The fall did not deter him for long, as you heard your name in Martin's deep, agitated voice carry to your ears on the night air, accompanied by heavy, fast footsteps. You were being chased. Heart racing, your feet slammed against the pavement, trying to put as much space between the two of you as possible. Your throat started to tighten with anxiety, fight or flight now in full control. You didn't even know where you were going. You took whatever turn felt natural, willing yourself not to turn around.

Martin realized with every step he took that it was too late to turn back. There was now street camera of him chasing you shirtless through the streets of a Barcelona neighborhood. He wasn't even sure why he had done it. By it he meant the chasing - not the sleeping with other women. That part was quite simple. He was 24 now, and it was time he was photographed with the same girl more than once. His club going days had become the topic of every family dinner and every call with his mother.

"Martin, when are you going to stop going to the club every night and actually bring us a nice girl? You're ruining your reputation by taking all these different girls home."

He was nothing if not a boy that wanted to make his mother happy. When he say Angelika in the club that day, he sensed he had been getting close. She was funny and outgoing and actually had a job that didn't involve her sponsoring Bang energy on the internet. But she was still at the club on a Tuesday night, and had flirted her way into the VIP section. Too high maintenance. But then as he left the club, pretty young drunk thing slung over his arm, he got to see you.

Initially, you didn't make a huge impression. Boring looking and kind of loud - not the girl he would usually go for. He was still a little hazy from the club air, sweat and tequila still lingering in his lungs. He had just handed Angelika off to you, before he took a look at the back of your car. A few stickers were there, displaying the name of your universities, and a bright blue one that read 'ask me about ACL tears!'. It sparked his interest - not only that you could afford the car, but that you were obviously decently intelligent to be touting all these universities. It prompted Martin to ask for your number, just as a backup in case finding a "good girl" was harder than he thought.

It was, in fact, much harder than he thought to find a girl to bring home to his mother. All the smart girls tended not to give him the time of day, either taken or too busy. Pretty girl were too expensive and high strung - not what he needed. And those sweet girls that he found at the supermarket and the park? Most of them were ready to live the football WAG life, wanting to go public with him immediately. If there's one thing Martin was sure of, it was that he wasn't ready too commit to just one screw for any period of time. He had a rotation of girls in and out of his bed, shower, car - he couldn't just cut all of them off.

That's exactly what was on his mind when he saw Angelika in line for the club again. She was cute enough to take home that night, but girls usually didn't open up without some conversation. He can't remember how the topic turned to you, but Angelika gushed about how much she adored you.

"But she's just so busy. She's always so focused on work that she doesn't have much time to even process what's going on around her."

Getting you was quite easy after that. He had listened to girls long enough to understand how to keep them happy. It was the lack of instant sex that really hurt his pride. This was not the 1940s - he was not going to wait 3 months, taking a girl out and showering her with love, just to get some pussy. He would just supplement with other women. Ferran was often the person that would help him get girls, as they usually recognized the young Barca bench boy before they realized who Martin was. So they worked as a team: Martin supplying money and alcohol, and Ferran supplying girls.

It was when Gavi started to enter the picture that he, for the first time in his life, felt the angry weeds of jealousy take root in his throat. No matter what he did behind closed doors, you were his, not Gavi's, and it would be a cold day in hell before he let a love-sick teenager take his girl. Now he was chasing you down the street, 10 days before he planned to introduce you to his mother at Christmas, willing all the neighbors to stay away from the windows and ignore the eventual screams they heard from the street.

Your eyes focused, the adrenaline fog leaving your brain as you wildly scanned the street: this was Gavi's neighborhood. Identifying the houses, you made a sharp right turn and ran towards his house at end of the street. You prayed that he was still awake as you got to the door, banging as hard as you could, and yelling out his name.

"Pablo! Let me in! Get the fuck away from me!"

You watched as Martin slowed down, walking towards you cautiously with his hands in the air. He moved his lips to say something, but your heartbeat was in your ears, tears streaming down your face as you kept banging on the door. The slit across your palm seared with pain, and every pang circulated more fear through you. Martin was capable and willing to hurt you.

The door opened, and you caught a glimpse of Gavi's face. That was enough reassurance for your legs to give out from the effort, sobs still shaking your entire being as you fell into his chest. Your palms grabbed at his shirt, needing anything to ground you in reality. Gavi was not a large boy; Martin had 5 inches and 6 years on Gavi, which would make any betting man wary of the outcome if a fight were to break out. But none of that mattered to you. Gavi's arms were around you, holding you up and against him, and you felt safe.

Gavi tore his eyes away from Martin, who was shirtless and frozen in his walkway, to look at you. As he pulled you away from his chest slowly, he felt a warm wet spot spread across his shirt. It was too large to be tears. He wished he hadn't looked down to see the red spot darkening his t-shirt. Grabbing your wrists, he looked at the jagged cut on the skin there, still bleeding freely. Gavi hugged you closer into his chest, one hand around your waist and one by your head, hiding you in his shoulder as you continued to cry.

"What did he do?" He asked, voice tight and strained. You shook your head, crying harder, trying to gulp down any air to stop the light-headedness. You could not see or think straight, the questions too overwhelming.

"Pablito, just let me talk to my girl, and go back inside." Martin instructed, walking towards the two of you slowly, as a hunter would approach a deer. You clung onto Gavi tighter, a shrill 'No!' yelped against his skin, sobs coming back in full force. Gavi couldn't stand it. The blood in his veins grew hotter the longer he held your fragile form. He was quick to anger, but this was different. You had run to his house crying and bleeding because of the vile man you had been dating. On an average day, he was ready to go to blows because of a stray leg in a football match. This was more serious - more sinister. He had hurt you in ways Gavi couldn't fathom a man hurting any woman, let alone you. He turned over the idea of manslaughter in his head as he tried again.

"Please, y/n. Please tell me what he did. Because at this rate, I'm going to kill him. Y/n, please."

Gulping down breath after desperate breath, you muttered out what had happened to Gavi in the best way you could. You knew there was nothing you could say to get Gavi to just walk away, but you couldn't stand the idea of Pablo doing irreparable damage to his future on your behalf.

"Found him... cheating... took my... k-keys.. that's why m-my hand. But I'm-"

"Don't you dare tell me you're okay." Gavi put you down on the ground, resting your back against the wall before he stood. The edges of his vision were dark and red, and in that moment he swore he could have killed Martin with his bare hands. When would this man have taken enough? Martin had snatched you off the market, keeping you hostage in a crumbling, decaying relationship while Gavi fawned over you. Martin chipped away at you soul, dimming the once radiant light that enamored those you encountered. Martin made you insecure and self-hating, all while keeping a line of girls wrapped around his bedroom to fool around with as you chased your dreams. Martin had taken everything Gavi had loved about you and poisoned it, leaving the ashes of a bright young woman in his path. Now he would pay for it.

"Martin, give me her keys and get the fuck away from my property before I make your mother regret the day she lost her virginity." Gavi was seething, You looked up at his squared shoulders and tight face, and couldn't tell if the wisps of smoke emanating from him were real or not. You wanted to stand, block the warpath Pablo was on, and prevent the violence you knew was about to ensue, but your head and eyes felt heavy, keeping you firmly planted to the ground.

"Ay, Pablito, no need to be vulgar. Don't you think it's silly for you to be involving yourself in a little lover's quarrel at this time? Go inside and let me take care of my girlfriend." Martin took a step with every word he said, now less than a meter from Gavi, whose fists were curled and strained.

"Lover's quarrel? She's bleeding and had to run from you screaming. You've stolen her keys and now you want me to let you harass her further? Give me her keys and fuck off, before my patience runs out. Because I've been eager to bash your skull for weeks now."

Martin took another step forward, now on the same plane as you and Gavi. He locked Pablo's vision as he pulled your keys from his pocket, tossing them at your feet. You flinched at the noise scared to look up at Martin. Just the sound of his voice sent ripples through you.

"There, bonita. You have your keys back. Now enough of this nonsense and come with me." A fist curled into your hair and pulled you upwards, causing a scream to release from your throat. Gavi watched all of this happen in slow motion. He took two steps towards Martin, vision now fully red, and connected his closed fist with Martin's lower jaw. The accompanying CRACK could probably have been heard all the way in Madrid. The grip had disappeared from your head, and you used your last bit of strength to push yourself from the floor and run into Gavi's house, keys firmly in your grasp for protection. You peered through the window, catching Martin spit out a large glob of blood, more crimson dripping from his mouth like a dog drooling.

Martin wasn't provided much more time to recover as Gavi grabbed his collar, pulling him in once again, and again cracking him hard right beneath his eye socket. The delicate skin there split, and more blood oozed from Martin. It didn't bring Gavi disgust or joy. There was no space in his entire being to feel anything other than the need to protect you. Moving his grasp from Martin's collar to his hair, he hit him one final time, a bone split and a scream polluting the otherwise silent air of the Barcelona night. You thought to yourself, rather ironically, if the naked girl in his living room knew how to set a broken nose. Pablo pushed Martin to the ground, the older landing on his face sprawled across the concrete of the pavement.

"If you get up and you're not running, I'll break another bone."

Martin struggled to breath, the blood running away from his body in rivers, dripping onto the street.

"You little piece of shit! Just wait till I call the police! You'll be in jail until you're 70. You little cunt." Martin wailed, on his knees gripping his throbbing fractured nose. Gavi approached Martin, picking him up by the collar once again. It was quite a sight to behold: the younger and smaller boy lifting Martin off the ground, blood dripping from a broken nose on to Gavi's tensed forearm, as his hazel eyes conveyed murderous intent.

"In case the blood has already left your brain, allow me to remind you: the cameras saw you chasing a woman through the street. There is a decent amount of her blood on you and at your house. Everything from that moment on is self defense. And I can absolutely afford a better lawyer than you can, little boy. So best run and put some ice on that nose before you become more permanently deformed than you were originally." Martin was thrown to the pavement once again, cries of pain bouncing between the stone of the buildings. He picked himself off the ground, not daring to glance over his shoulder, as he hobbled back home.

Gavi took a deep breath, looking down at his hands in the light of the street lamp. It had been a long time since his anger was allowed to run wild. Usually there was a player (or 6) holding him back from blows. But that was football. Nothing was ever that serious in football. This was different. It was you. And as he entered his home, locking eyes with your huddled form by his couch, the thought appeared in his mind clear as crystal: you were someone he would kill for, and someone he would die for.

But now wasn't the time for such a confession. It was the time for Gavi to step up as your friend and provide you with comfort and support. He walked into the house and started to head for the bathroom before you called out to him.

"Pablo? Where are you going?" Your voice was small and fragile, like that of a scared child when the thunder got too loud. Keys still gripped tightly in shaky hands, you pushed yourself off the floor, and Gavi rushed to meet your stride, helping stabilize you as you stood. You were not close to fainting anymore, but the fear still pumped through you, making it harder to walk at more than a snail's pace. Eyes locking with Gavi's, you brought a hand up to rest on his bicep, squeezing it lightly to provide him with some reassurance that you were okay. Hand trailing down, you wrapped your fingers gently around his wrists, turning his hands over to look at his knuckles. The skin had cracked and burst from the impact against Martin's skull. Bruises bloomed on the high points, droplets of blood - owner unknown - littered his fingers and hand, the scarlet a contrast against his warm tan. As you ran a thumb over one of the open cuts, Gavi hissed, trying to pull away from your touch. You looked back up at him with tears welling in your eyes anew.

"You're hurt." You croaked out, not wanting to continue crying in front of him. He grabbed your hand, holding it against his as he rubbed over the drying cut through your palm.

"So are you. But we'll be okay." He smiled at you, and you could have sworn that there was an actual fist squeezing your heart in your chest. He pulled you towards the staircase with him.

"Come on, we need to wash our hands. You've taught me enough about infections to know we shouldn't wait much longer."

"I obviously haven't taught you enough, because for open cuts like this we need rubbing alcohol and hydrogen peroxide, not water."

Gavi stopped on the stairs, still gripping your wrist as his smile broke out, returning warmth to his face. Even when he had hit Martin, you hadn't feared Pablo. You knew the anger was residual, and he would never turn this harbored rage your direction. It had brought a few baby butterflies to your stomach, knowing that Gavi had thrown his tranquility and caution to the wind just to defend you. But this was the Pablo you liked the most: the one that smiled for you in a way that seemed to appear only when you were around.

"There you go, doctora. Putting that degree to use. I think I have a first aid kit in my room. The medics gave me one to keep after I got my second black eye." The statement, not meant as a joke, allowed a laugh to run through you, cutting through some of the lingering heaviness. You wondered if this experience would forever trauma-bond you to Gavi forever. But you knew subconsciously that Pablo was already bonded to you. You would never be able to look at the Barca crest or the dew on the grass or the chocolate milk in the store without thinking of Pablo. You would never be able to choose anyone else's contact at 2am to send a random text to, because you need Pablo to be the one to send the response. You knew in that moment that Pablo was going to be in your life forever.

Walking into his bedroom, Pablo peeled his blood-stained shirt off, tossing it onto the bed.

"You should..." Your sentence trailed off as Pablo faced you, shirtless with sweats hanging low on his hips, waistband of his boxers tight against the V of his torso. You had seen attractive men shirtless before, but something about it being Pablo, and the two of you being alone in his bedroom, made everything seem more charged and, for lack of a better term, sinful. He tiled his head in questioning, prompting you to finish your sentence. Clearing your throat, you looked at the shirt instead of Pablo and continued.

"You should put peroxide on that shirt now to get the blood out so it doesn't stain."

"I think getting some peroxide on your open wound is more important right now." He said, returning to his dresses to rummage around for his first aid kit. You stood awkwardly against the wall, unsure how to proceed. You didn't feel comfortable enough to sit on his bed, and though it would be weird to seat yourself on Gavi's floor. He turned back around, watching you scan the room and calculate if you should sit or stand.

"You're covered in blood." He said. You looked down at your shirt. You definitely had some splotches, but you wouldn't use the word covered.

"It's fine, I'll change when i get home..." You trailed off again. Your car was outside Martin's house, and there was no way you could possibly bring yourself to go back there tonight. Maybe Gavi would be kind enough to walk over with you in the dark.

"You're spending the night here. There's no way I'm going to let you be by yourself tonight. Let me get you something to change into." He said, moving past you towards the closet.

"Oh no, Pablo, it's fine. I should really go back to my place-"

"Why?" He asked, abruptly turning to face you. He walked towards you, and your heart rate picked up as he stood within your air space.

"Why do you need to go home? We are on international break for the season. I don't start training until next week. You just finished your finals, so you don't need to do anything tomorrow. And, more importantly, the only way to get to your house is to either go get your car from your psycho abusive ex and drive home at this time of night, which is not happening. Or for you to take a taxi home, which is also not happening. I'm not letting you out of my sight." He turned back to the closet, rummaging through his clothes before pulling out a pair of sweat pants and a La Masia t-shirt. Placing them in your hands, he turned back to his mission to find the first aid kit.

"The bathroom is through there. You can go and get changed and wash up. What's mine is yours."

Nodding, you shuffled towards the bathroom. The door was quickly shut and locked behind you, and you stared at yourself in the mirror. You definitely looked worse for wear, mascara smudged under your eyes, which were red and puffy from sobbing. You washed your face with your non-injured hand, thanking Pablo silently for owning a decent face wash. As you stripped off your dirty clothes, you couldn't help the images that flashed in your mind, and the thoughts that seeped through your subconscious. You remembered the daydreams you had for several weeks, bursts of his eyes and lips and hands, and thoughts of all the ways they could touch you. Your cheeks burned as you grabbed a washcloth, running cool water onto your skin to remove the sweat and grime lingering. You thought of that day on the couch, when you had finally entertained the idea of seeing Pablo in a sexually attractive light. Bumps raised onto your skin as you fully wrapped your head around the situation. You were in your underwear in Gavi's bedroom, only a bathroom door separating the two of you.

A part of you wanted to open the door - to present yourself to Pablo, physically and emotionally bare, and tell him your feelings. But what were your feelings? You felt safe with Pablo, supported, and able to be your authentic self. Was this a friendship that you had over committed to? Was Pablo treating you any differently to how he would treat Pedri or one of the boys? You pushed those feelings aside, slipping on his clothes, breathing the scent of his detergent in deeply. You took one last glance in the mirror, reminding yourself that you had a tendency to spontaneously combust when it came to relationships, and you wouldn't allow yourself to do that with Pablo. He was going to be in your life for a long time - you wouldn't accept anything otherwise - but maybe the role he was meant to fill was that of a close friend and never more.

You walked out and saw Pablo rubbing his bare chest with an alcohol pad, cleaning the excess blood from his chest. He had changed into some clean shorts, and turned to face you when he heard the door. His eyes scanned you from top to bottom, taking in the sight. His shirt hung off your shoulders slightly, draped over your frame and covering your form in worn cotton fabric. His sweats hugged your hips, sliding precariously low on your torso and lose in the thighs, just small enough for them to not pool at your ankles. Gavi's mouth went dry as he stared at you. You crossed your arms over your chest, covering yourself with your folded dirty clothes. Gavi caught a glimpse of your bra in the pile. He had no moisture in his mouth whatsoever.

"What are you staring at, Gavi? Close your mouth you'll catch a fly." You said, trying to come across cool and unbothered despite the situation. He swallowed hard, trying to form a single sentence.

"They fit. I'm surprised." That was all he could muster.

"Me too. I thought everything would be too short on me." You teased, and he rolled his eyes.

"Low blow, doctora. come help me with these bandages."

He sat on the floor with the first aid kit, and you joined him on the soft rug, protecting from the chill of the tile in December. You grabbed the different solutions and began cleaning his hands. His hands were rough and calloused to the touch, and you made a mental note to get him some lotion as a late Christmas gift. You moved slowly over each knuckle, cleaning the blood and bruises, gently moving your fingers across Pablo's skin. You heard gentle hisses at the burning sensation from the alcohol, but he kept his protests to a minimum as you worked.

It was easy for Gavi to distract himself from the pain when you were the one sitting in front of him. The burn of his hands was basically forgotten as he traced the curves of your face with his eyes. That familiar look of concentration settled into your features, warming Gavi's heart. You were coming back, in short bursts and fleeting moments, but everything he loved about you was still there. Try as he did, he could not prevent his eyes from moving lower, settling on his shirt draped over you. It was one of his most well-loved shirts - the one that he had gotten when he began playing for La Masia's senior team. This is when he started to bulk up, biceps and pecs stretching out the shirt, creating the baggy look he currently saw on you. The colors had faded from dozens of washes, and it was now pilling and threadbare - really something that should never see the light of day.

But here you were wearing it, and suddenly there was no article of clothing that had ever made a woman look sexier. The baggy fabric moved with you, and when you turned behind you to gram more gauze, it tightened against your bare chest, and Gavi willed himself not to focus on it. He couldn't - not right now. No matter how much he tried to rationalize it, he couldn't describe what about it made the shirt look so good on you. It was just the fact that it was his shirt. You were in his house, in his bedroom, wearing his shirt. You were merging with his space, and in a way, becoming a part of his home. It was the closest you had ever been to being his.

You finished bandaging his hands, looking at your work, and making sure that everything was secure so he wouldn't lose the dressings in his sleep. Engrossed in the moment, you leaned down and kissed the top of Gavi's knuckles, pulling back before realizing what you did. You both stared at each other, mutually deciding it was best not to comment on what just occurred. You quickly cleaned and dressed your own cut, with Gavi's assistance, and once the bandage was secured, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. All the boxes were finally ticked - you and Gavi were safe and clean and dressed, and now your body felt relaxed enough to crash from the exhaustion of the day. Pablo noticed your eyes drooping, and moved off the floor, helping you stand as well.

"Let me go get an extra blanket." He said, moving towards the door. You followed him out of the room, and he turned to you, confused.

"Where are you going?" He asked, arm against the wall and blocking your path.

"The other room?" You said, phrasing it as a question.

"The guest room doesn't have a bed in it yet. My sister is helping me pick one out since she visits the most often."

"To the couch, then." You said, and Pablo's eyebrows scrunched together in frustration.

"You're not sleeping on the couch. You've had a stressful day to say the least. You're going to sleep on the ridiculously expensive mattress and get a good night's rest."

"Then where are you going to sleep?" You asked, heart skipping a beat at some of the possible answers.

"The couch. I want to give you your space. Let me go get that extra blanket - the top floor gets cold in the winter."

You grabbed his arm stopping him from continuing down the staircase.

"You're not going to destroy your back by sleeping on the couch again. You're about to get called up for the national team, and their physios suck. They will replace you with a 3rd tier player before they help you fix a dorsal muscle strain. You have to sleep on the bed Pablo."

"I don't actually have to do anything. This is my house."

You both stared at each other, the two of you unmoving on your position, and both ignoring the obviously solution to your argument. After a minute, it was Pablo who was brave enough to make the suggestion.

"We could always just... both sleep on the bed. If you're comfortable with that. We can made a divider in the middle and everything."

Blushing, you looked at the floor before responding.

"Wouldn't be the first time."

Gavi got into bed, shirtless in a pair of shorts, and beckoned you to join. You walked slowly to the other side of the bed, crawling in and pulling up the covers, body stiff and muscles tense.

"I forgot to get the lights." You whispered quietly, making a move to get up. Suddenly the lights switched off, leaving the two of you in complete darkness, a weak ray of light filtering in from the half-moon.

"Expensive houses have a lot of pointless features, but this one is actually useful." Pablo said quietly, mentally kicking himself for making small talk about a light switch. He curled on his side away from you, uncomfortable but wanting to give you your own space, and let out a deep breath. You peered at Gavi, and then curled the other way, also in discomfort, but too scared to face him while conscious. It was too much. He was so close: enough to hold in your arms, to exchange body heat, to listen to his heartbeat and be lulled to sleep. But it was too much of a leap to take. It was too far out of your comfort zone, and you couldn't risk the delicate relationship with a desperate and ill-timed proclamation of... whatever it was you were feeling.

Pablo's heart hammered in his chest. Though it had been his idea, he had never actually thought it through. You had fallen asleep on his shoulder before, and he had survived, so he figured this experience wouldn't be that much harder. He was so sorely mistaken. The fact that you were laying an arm's length away from him kept his nerves on fire, and he couldn't even keep his eyes closed for more than a minute as the time. Despite the winter chill, his body was on fire, and the lack of clothing didn't help. You had just been attacked by your ex boyfriend, and Gavi wanted to hold you in his arms and protect you from the entire world. Patience wasn't his best trait, but he knew that it wasn't the time to ask you to be his. He needed to wait. He needed to be there for you right now

"Pablo?"

An hour after the two of you had settled, lights off and room quiet, you called out for him. Sleep escaped the two of you, and he turned over almost instantly when he heard you whisper his name. Turning to face each other, your eyes adjusted so that you could look at his features in the dark. He was beautiful. There was no denying how conventionally attractive Pablo was. But there were so many little things that enhanced his beauty, only visible from this close. You wished the moon would shine a little brighter so that you could look at the flecks in his eyes, and count the lashes fluttering above them. His features were relaxed, lids drooping and lips slightly puffed out. The scars and moles on his face were the only markings on the smooth skin, and you longer to run your fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his eyes.

"Can... can we do something? To help me sleep? But then promise you'll forget about it tomorrow?"

Pablo swallowed hard for the nth time that night. He hesitated. There was no way he could promise to forget a single moment of this night with you, but he could control himself from speaking about it, and that was all he really needed to do.

"Anything."

You sat up in bed, moving quickly before your confidence evaporated completely. You moved in to the center of the bed, prompting Gavi to do the same. He moved slowly and warily, sitting shoulder to shoulder with you in the middle of the King-sized island.

"Lay down," You said, voice shaking slightly. You were terrified, but you knew that was the only way you would ever find rest before the sun came up. Pablo laid down, stiff as a board, half expecting you to make a desperate dash for the couch. You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes before you laid down beside him. You turned on your side, resting a hand on Gavi's chest. Pablo's eyes widened as he finally processed what your request was. He raised his arm, draping it over your shoulders, allowing you to cuddle even closer into his side. Your head now laid on his bare chest, his hammering heart loud in your ear. He brought his other arm around you as well, resting his hand over yours on his chest. The two of you held each other close, seemingly for dear life, and finally sighed out in belief.

There was no way to describe this feeling. The feeling of you resting against Pablo, arms and legs tangled together, with his head rested above yours. Your hands together, occupying each others' air. There was no way to describe it except for right. There was no awkwardness or strained breathing anymore. There was relaxation and comfortable silence enveloping the two of you. The rest of the world faded away, and in that moment, Pablo could have sworn that he had ascended to heaven.

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

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

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

Gavi tensed so hard it set off a headache. He couldn't cry, not while you were in his arms. He had always been seen as an asset because of his skill, always being told how valuable he was in that respect. But you saw him as a person, and not only did you tolerate it, but you cherished it. You made him proud to be himself.

"You too, in ways you can't even imagine. Good night, y/n."

~

Despite the way it started, the international and Christmas break was rather uneventful. Your little "sleepover" with Gavi saw the two of you sleeping in until 1pm, a rare occurrence for the both of you. Usually you both had too much going on, both on the schedule and in your minds, to sleep for such prolonged times. Wiser minds might have stopped and questioned why being in each others' arms brought a wash of such immense peace, but alas. There was no such reflection. Only waking up in the middle of the day, exchanging awkward smiled before getting up to change. Gavi had awoken with your leg draped across him and half an erection, causing him to bolt for the bathroom when you turned to check your phone. He wanted to say something - anything - about the night before. But he had promised to "forget", sealing his lips until further notice.

He turned the shower to the coldest setting, trying to stay silent as he killed his hard-on in the least loving way possible. You took the opportunity to slip into your sweats from the night before, and putting Gavi's t-shirt back on. Yours still had bubbled blood from the events and peroxide of the previous night. As you sorted out your hair, Gavi emerged from the bathroom, towel slung around his hips, showing off his toned chest and deep V once again. You lifted yourself and turned to face the wall, looking up at the Lord through the ceiling and asking why you were being faced with such temptation.

"Don't look." Pablo instructed, and you heard the towel thud to the floor. It make your cheeks burn and you crossed your legs tightly. You tried to think of anything else to stop yourself from taking your medical history with Gavi and constructing a complete mental image.

"Pedri is going to ... do you want a clean shirt?" Gavi asked, now in a clean sweatshirt and jeans. There was something about seeing you in his clothes that made him borderline insane. He couldn't tell if he needed you to stop, or needed you to do it every day.

"Oh, no, this one is fine. Thanks again - I'll wash it and return it as soon as I can."

"You can keep it." Gavi replied, turning back to his closet. The last thing he needed was to become aroused whenever he saw the folded shirt in his house. He grabbed a sweatshirt and tossed it to you as well.

"Are you donating clothes to me now? My salary isn't that bad, Pablo." You laughed out as you caught it.

"It's December, doctora. You should know that it's not great to go out in the cold. Your hoodie is still in your car, so wear this for now. Speaking of - Pedri is on his way over. He's gonna drive your car back to your place, and we'll take his. That way you never need to go near that dick's house again."

You slipped the green sweatshirt over your head, and were instantly attacked with the smell of body wash and cologne. Gavi had worn this recently. You brought the sleeves up and took a deep breath again before rushing downstairs to follow Gavi. It was a one time occurrence - you wouldn't allow yourself to get close to Pablo like this again. You were coworkers, first and foremost.

The two of you climbed into Pedri's car, you in the driver's seat and Gavi in the passenger, fingers trembling as you took the familiar turns. You stopped about a block away, dropping Pedri off, and driving off to the café the three of you had agreed to meet at to avoid any chance of being followed. You made idle conversation with Gavi, the two of you feeling the obvious tension. Pedri brought you your car, and you left the boys, giving them both a quick hug goodbye before going home to process the insane 24 hours you just had.

The boys were headed back to Gavi's to pack before heading to Madrid for national team training. On the way home, Pablo bounced his leg, biting his lip and furrowing his eyebrows more than usual.

"Hermano," Pedri started, "whatever you need to say, please just say it."

"But I'm not supposed to."

"Then stop with the fucking anxious ticks! Either speak or stay silent, but don't drive me crazy. It's a long day." Pedri ended his scolding with a light laugh. He knew Pablo better than anyone, and could tell it was only a matter of time before the younger boy started to spill his guts. Gavi wanted to stay strong, holding the promise he made to you extra close to his heart and his honor, and picked up his phone to pass the time. He opened up his twitter, refreshing the feed.

"Oh fuck. I'm in trouble."

Yes, the break was rather uneventful. You filled your time with studying, revising medical plans, and watching the international matches on TV. You tried your best to stay inside to avoid seeing anybody. You were still mourning the end of your relationship with Martin. Despite the confirmation that Martin was borderline clinically insane, it still weighed heavily on you, day by day, that you had once again been cheated on. That you had once again molded yourself into the absolutely closest thing to perfection, and had again fallen short. The winter weather also made you more lethargic, less keen to go outside and interact with others. And finally, you were terrified of anyone on the street recognizing you.

In hindsight, you should have made Pedri just walk and get your car. Or you should have waited until you knew Martin wasn't home and done it yourself. Because the thing about Pedri's lush green mini Cooper was that is was one of the most recognized cars in Spain, and so girls would flock to every single one they saw. His car had been posted enough for the most dedicated to have the license plate committed to memory. So driving around in such a recognizable car with the most sought-after footballer in Spain might not have been the best idea - especially during the day when the window tints weren't as effective. It took less than an hour for you and Gavi's pictures to be circulated around fan accounts, with people commenting on everything. The fact that you were driving, the hoodie you were wearing, the way that Gavi looked at you- the list was endless.

It took another 4 hours for people to figure out who you were. @gaviraconcubine on twitter had thankfully recognized you as one of the physios from game clips, and informed the rest of the rabid mob. Some had been satisfied with the answer, while others believed this an even more damning piece of information.

@gaviraconcubine: ok so the girl Gavi was with in the car is one of the barca physios - all the squad follows her + some shots of her on the field ! Gavi nation we're safe ;P

4,788 Likes 2,003 Retweets 834 Replies

@barcabarcabarca : guys shes literally a staff member???? gavi cant talk to female staff now wtf

@mrspgavira : if he ignored all of us to fall in love with the first ugly ass girl he bumped into at work ill take a swim with a toaster

@88rizzing : so she just started w barca this szn and got gavi? alexa play mastermind

@loonastansbrazil : more drivers for gavi!! she too old to be his girl

Barca staff were on public record, and so by the end of the day, your social media, school, and entire life history had been published on social media for people to scrutinize. It had sent you spiraling, suddenly being at the center of extreme amounts of attention from teen girls and 45-year old Barca stans alike.

[Pablo]: hey

[Pablo]: im rlly sorry about all the stuff online

[Pablo]: it should all die down soon. will be done at 9pm and I can call you

So that's what you did. Cook, clean, study, watch football, and get in disguise if you ever needed to go out. You spent your evenings chatting with Gavi. First it was about the media circus that you two were going through.

"It'll die down eventually. I'll stand too close to another girl and then everybody will leave you alone."

"Or accuse you of being a cheater."

"Has enough time passed for us to make cheating jokes?"

But as your fears started to ease an your mentions dried up, the conversations went back to the casual, playful tone that always filled the air whenever you and Gavi conversed. It was easier to talk to Gavi than it was with anyone else. You still spoke to your other friends, checking in on Angelika periodically over text, but no one could fill an hour FaceTime call like Gavi could, making it feel like mere minutes. Often, the two of you were both lounging, you on your couch and him in whatever hotel bed the national team had provided. As the days went on, you grew more comfortable answering the phone sans makeup, showing the most natural parts of yourself to who was shaping up quickly to be your closest friend.

Returning to work after the break may have been harder than the break itself. The office was abuzz with the rumors about you and Gavi. For the first few days, you ignored all the chatter. You had seen enough online to know that not knowing was always better. You didn't care what anyone said about you, as long as you proved you were an asset to the team. That is until Antonio came into your office one day with a sealed envelope. He was finishing up with some loose ends in Barcelona, before making his way to the UK to start in Manchester after the January transfer window had closed. He walked into your office, a large manila envelope in hand, and placed it on your desk.

"What's this?" You asked, peering at it from behind your glasses. Antonio was not one to make jokes or pull pranks, so it confused you to see him now, giggling in your office like a school girl.

"Oh this? Nothing important. Just a backup plan. Now it's my turn to ask the questions." He said, coming around and sitting atop your desk.

"Is it true that you're sleeping with Gavi?"

~

It had been a long time since you had seethed with this much rage. First, shock and embarrassment flooded your veins, freezing you in place, leaving you like a deer in headlights before the question. Antonio's ringing laugh is what pulled you out of your trance. You quickly denied the rumor, stating that you and Gavi were friends, but everything remained strictly professional.

"We heard you went to his house after the last home game before the break, and didn't leave until the following day, and wearing his clothes as well! You don't have to lie to me, I won't tell Dr. G or Xavi. So how was he?"

You promptly instructed Antonio to get the hell out of your office, and you made a move to head to the practice field. How dare Gavi: tell people you slept together when you did nothing of the sort. Well, you did something of the sort, but not in that way! Your job was already in jeopardy as it was, and it didn't help your case to be allegedly sleeping with one of the players. Talk about acts that increase favoritism. As you turned to corner to head to the field, you were met with a hard chest instead. Looking up, you saw the one face you had been trying to avoid all week: Ferran.

"My favorite little nurse. I haven't seen you since before the break. How have you been?" His arms were crossed over his chest, smirk and arrogance across his face. He blocked your path, and you sighed before responding.

"I don't have time to chat, Ferran. I was headed to the practice field to speak to-"

"Gavi? Yeah, I don't think so. My hamstrings need work. You're coming with me."

You followed closely behind, annoyance bubbling in your throat as you followed Ferran to your office. He laid on the examination bed as you closed the door, using the small sink to wash your hands, and donning a pair of clean gloves as he rolled up his shorts and laid on his stomach.

"So sad to hear about you and Martin, y/n. You two really did make a cute couple. I saw him at the end of the break - he's really looking quite worse for wear."

Uncapping your athletic salve, you started working the mixture between your fingers before moving to Ferran's thigh.

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you're a cheater. Usually quite a deal-breaker in a relationship."

You had resolved no to speak to the striker on your table, knowing that everything he said would only egg you on further, creating more opportunities for you to slip up and be unemployed. But there was something in you that Martin had broken, no, stolen, that made staying silent astronomically more difficult than it had been. So your tongue release from your cheek quicker than you could process, and you steeled yourself once again to work on his legs. What were his legs even tired from? It's not like he was playing regularly.

"You know that there's more than one way to cheat on a person, right?" Ferran questioned, folding his arms to get more comfortable on the table. You shifted your eyes to look at him, one brow raised in confusion. Your lip curled up in disgust, and again your found yourself speaking without intention.

"I don't want to hear about all the different ways he cheated on me. I know you two are friends or whatever, but I'm not interested in the rest of his dirty laundry."

"I'm not talking about Martin. The other cheater in question is you."

Movements slowing, you locked eyes with Ferran, who held your gaze with confidence - like he was holding all the cards, and you were none the wiser.

"I didn't go around sleeping with other people while I was in a committed relationship." You deadpanned, not enjoying how the morning was progressing.

"Right, that was Martin - how unoriginal if you both did the same thing. He went around and slept with a couple other girls to satisfy his base desires. It's bad, but what you did is much worse, little nurse."

You tore your gaze away from Ferran, working his legs with new vigor, restraining yourself from just grabbing onto the flesh and squeezing until he screamed out in pain.

"This is not a professional topic of conversation and you shouldn't bring it into the workplace." You replied, but your voice had started to waiver.

"Oh yes it is, because it revolves around one of your coworkers. While Martin was out working and training an doing other things - or other people - you were also being unfaithful. Sure you didn't sleep with someone, but you were in a 'committed relationship', as you put it, when you started to fall for Pablito."

You pulled your hands away from Ferran like he had spontaneously combust, running from the flames. The look of bewilderment was not one you could suppress in that moment. Your throat had gone completely dry, but you knew the longer you remained silent, the more Ferran would interpret it as a confirmation of his theory.

"That's - it's not true. Gavi and I are coworkers, friends if you really want to push it. It's highly inappropriate for you to assume otherwise. Look I know you want me to lose-"

"Lose your job?" Ferran laughed callously. "Oh no, hermosa. I love seeing you run around here in those tight scrubs, hair pulled back - you're like my own personal masseuse. I just hate when some people get special treatment. And you and Pablito haven't exactly been subtle."

"There's nothing going on between-"

"Bullshit. What kind of employee is willing to come in early and work unpaid hours for just another member of the squad? He's the only one with your personal number. You drive him home after practice. Everyone knows that those hours he spends locked away after national team training, he's talking to you. For fuck's sake, you hadn't even been broken up with Martin for a day before you spent the night at his place!"

Eyes locked with the floor, your breathing quickened as Ferran's words too root in you. Did everyone think this way? Was it a common assumption that you harbored "special feelings" for Gavi? He continued without allowing you to recover.

"So you can get on your high horse and spew your woes about how your boyfriend slept with someone else. But you let little Pablito get access to the deepest, most intimate parts of your soul, and despite having a boyfriend, you let yourself love him. You let yourself love Gavi the night you watched him throw up outside the club, young and stupid and delirious, and yet you let Martin think he had a chance to be your man, your one, your soulmate. That's what most people would call emotional cheating. And it still makes you a shit person."

Your temples pounded, headache coming on from the lack of air in your system. You couldn't do anything, couldn't move, couldn't process the information being thrown at your brain. Had Ferran been present that first night at the club half a year ago? Had someone else remembered you, recounting the details to everyone involved? Did Gavi know that you were there, and had seen him in that state? Antonio's question from earlier flashed in your mind, and though you had assumed Gavi's lips had gotten loose, the real culprit was sitting in front of you buttered like a turkey. Everything else would have to wait - because you might lose your job if you didn't get this question answered.

"Have you been telling people I slept with Gavi?" You asked, the pain in your voice clinging to every word.

"I haven't been telling people anything that isn't true. I may have mentioned to a couple of the second-team players that you and Martin had broken up. I may have also mentioned that when I went to console my physically and emotionally battered friend, I watched you and Gavi leave his house, together, and you were in his clothes. Well, I didn't really need to provide that one, did I? The pictures are everywhere. And maybe there was a thing or two about how Martin has always been wary of Pablito, who seemed to always go out of his way to be at your beck and call. People connected their own dots."

"What the fuck is your problem with me?" You asked, voice desperate as you ripped of your gloves, coming around the table to face the slippery eel that was Ferran Torres directly.

"Why can you not stand the sight of me so much that you need me to lose everything I've worked for my whole life?"

The smirk was glued to his face, and the mal intent in his eyes burned brighter than ever.

"Just because I like watching you squirm. And if they fire you, it's no worry to me at all. The team managers are already embracing this 'diversity' thing, so another bubbly, bouncy little thing in scrubs will be in swiftly to take your place."

Ferran got up, readjusting his training uniform and making his way to the door. You couldn't speak. All you wanted to do was curl into a ball behind your desk. The entire staff thought you were sleeping with Gavi, and the thoughts spiraled onward. Did they think that's why you hadn't gotten fired after Ferran's complaint? Did anyone think you were qualified beyond just a toy for one of the players?

"I would steer clear of Gavi, hermosa. No more late drives, no more sleepovers. Rumor has it, word's gotten all the way up to Xavi. Would hate to have to give him confirmation that you two are more than friends. Because then you'd be looking for physio jobs in the village football teams."

"But we're not." You replied, voice strained and broken.

"Then keep it that way."

~

Since Pedri's nonexistent project with Adidas had ended, he was back to giving Gavi rides. It's not that he minded - the younger boy was always talkative and good company. But It was the waiting around that made Pedri want to scream. For the entire time they had been on international leave, you were the only thing Pablo thought about and spoke of, filling any silent moments sending messages to as a precursor for your nightly calls. Pedri was mistaken in thinking this teenage lovesick behavior would cease once they returned to Cam Nou.

Every day after practice, Gavi would move at the most glacial, snail-like pace just to time his exit with yours, accompanying you on the walk to your car. Today was no different. As Gavi took his time in the locker room doing Lord knows what, Pedri caught a glimpse of you speeding down the corridor. He wanted to greet you, to ask if you were okay, but he couldn't get the words out before you rushed past him. He turned into the locker room and yelled at his passanger.

"Hurry up hermano! She already left!"

[6 Missed Calls]: Gavi

You ignored the buzz of your phone on your table as you curled into yourself, tears streaming down your face. It was beyond what you could bear. You had sacrificed so much throughout your life to get the "dream" you were supposed to be living now: perfect life in a perfect city, with your perfect job and perfect friends. But all of it had been set ablaze. Your apartment had never felt lonelier or colder, as you looked at the chairs that had never been used, the floor that only you walked on. Since leaving America you found yourself with few to no friends. You never went out or saw anyone, dedicating yourself to excelling in your program. The only friend you ever had over was Angelika, and even she had not graced your home for weeks upon weeks. You had isolated yourself from everyone to make sure you were perfect at work - never tired or hungover, never a thread or hair out of place. Now you were friendless and single, curled up on your couch, cursing every decision you had ever made.

The last person you wanted to see or speak to was Pablo. Pablo, who had entered your life so suddenly, and taken up residence in your brain and heart, was the sole common thread between everything crumbling around you. You willed yourself to be angry with him. You tried your hardest to blame him for every misfortune that had come your way. Your lack of friends, many of whom distanced themselves when you started working for Barca under a perception that you were "too good for them". Your waning relationship with Angelika, which began when Pablo started to tunnel his way into your life, consuming more and more of your time. Your failed relationship with Martin, which was perfectly stale and stable before Gavi showed you what it was really like to be made a priority. The current precarious state of your job, it was his fault, because of his consistent fighting with Ferran, which provoked him to file his empty complaint.

You wanted to curse Gavi and the day you had met him, but you couldn't do it. You couldn't bring yourself to even have an ill thought about Pablo. All you could do was curse yourself. You had known deep down for so long how you really felt. From that night you spoke to him in the club, identity yet unknown, but all his vulnerability on display, you had known that there was something pulling you into his orbit. You had known that the hoops you jumped through for him were special, and not inconveniences you would shoulder for anyone else. You had known when you searched for him on the field, in your contacts, in your subconscious that no one would ever bring you this much peace. His eyes, his words, the energy that radiated from him were rarities, seen once in a lifetime, and often squandered by those to late to grab them. And so you sat on your couch, tears pouring down your face as the realization enveloped you, too great to hide any longer: Pablo Paez Gavira was your best friend, and you were heart-achingly, soul-crushingly in love with him, but you would never be able to do anything about it.

Gavi had given up after 6 missed calls and 18 unanswered text messages. He knew that you would call him when you were ready to do so, but the anxiety gnawed at him nonetheless. He couldn't stand the thought of you upset, and would move heaven and earth just to make sure you were doing fine. He was currently checking his phone for notifications ever 30-45 seconds, leg once again bouncing - much to Pedri's dismay. The two of them, accompanied by Alejandro and Eric, were at a restaurant catching up with some friends. Gavi paid no mind to anyone. He was too preoccupied to engage in idle conversation. Rather, he just wanted to hear the sound of your voice -no , your breathing even, to calm his worries.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, tearing his gaze away from the screen. A short blond stood before him - one of Eric's friends - and she spoke directly to him, asking questions about his age and if he also played for the club. Unhappy with the interruption, Gavi gave quick and curt responses, trying to avoid a prolonged conversation. This did not deter the girl, who introduced herself as Jacinta, from getting Gavi's undivided attention, as she sat beside him, legs pressed against each other, and rested a hand on his thigh. Before he could react, he heard the gasp of his name, swiveling around to find several teenage girls huddled by the front of the restaurant, phones out and whispering to each other. Gavi had lost his appetite, excusing himself and taking a taxi back to his, checking his phone frequently as he prayed for you to give him any indication that you were alive.

Your phone rang once again, and the tone echoing through your apartment was one you welcomed eagerly: Angelika's. You had not heard from her in the last month, trying to give her enough space to do her work, while still reminding her you were there for support.

"Angelika! It's so good to hear from you."

"I'm moving to Paris."

Your face fell as you turned the words over in your mind.

"You're...what?"

You sat up on the phone, listening to Angelika explain how she had impressed her colleagues, being promoted to their Paris office to work on more couture and avant-garde looks. She gushed about what an amazing opportunity it was as you tried to stop yourself from throwing up. How was it that you were losing everything in your life all at once.

"That's so amazing, Ange."

That was all you could muster, deciding to be a good friend and leave your worries and fears to the side, letting her bask in the triumph of her accomplishment. You responded with how proud you were, how much she deserved this, and how you knew she would do amazing things.

"Does Gavi have a girlfriend?"

The sudden mention of Gavi's name alone was enough to knock the wind out of you, but the context of the question really threatened to have you spill your guts on the rug.

"Not that I know of." You said, the feeling of dread dripping into your gut like tar.

"One of the Barca fan pages just posted a pic of him with some girl at dinner. Look I just sent it. I didn't know he was old enough to be getting girls like that. You two are friends, right?"

Your eyes were instantly drawn to the blonde girl's hand on Gavi's thigh. She wasn't his girlfriend. If anyone were to know that Gavi were in a committed relationship, it would be you. But this knowledge didn't help the wounded feeling that settled into you. You were home, pining after this little footballer, as he effortlessly flirted with other women. You were once again in pieces over a man that did not think of you the way you thought of him.

"Yeah, we're friends, I guess."

You would never be more than Gavi's physiotherapist and someone he occasionally sent Tiktoks to. Gavi was a deity in his field, a name that struck fear and respect in the hearts of the opposition. He was a symbol of the next generation of football royalty, and a man that could have any woman at his feet with a lick of his lips and a wave of his hand. This is what he was destined for: days in the spotlight, photographs with mysterious beauties, and a loyal fanbase that worshipped his every move. None of that involved you: an employee. Why would he want you? There was nothing you could give him that didn't come in a prettier package. He would never look at you as more than a friend, because you walked with the common crowd, and he was among the elite. Gavi could have any girl that he wants, and it was obvious he didn't want you.

You moved from the couch and walked to your table, waking up the computer that sat upon it. You glanced at the envelope Antonio had slid to you earlier, and thought about his offer. What did you have left? You typed a quick email to Xavi requesting a brief meeting the following morning, before heading to bed, trying to sleep away the suffocating feeling that clung to you.

~

Gavi was at your office door when you walked in the following morning, despite you arriving 20 minutes earlier than usual. His arms were crossed, face scrunched in worry, but his features relaxed when you walked to the door. He tried to help you with your belongings, but you refused. You exchanged a dry good morning before entering your office, avoiding his gaze. He asked how you were feeling, and if anything had happened the previous day. Eyes glued to your computer, you responded shortly, informing him that everything was fine and that you had a meeting with Xavi you needed to prepare for.

"Doctora, did I do something?"

You finally looked at Gavi, taking in his pained expression. It hurt in ways medicine understand for you to be freezing him out like this, and yet, all you could do was think about the image of Gavi coupled with Ferran's words. Was it worth it to risk everything for someone who would never be yours? You shook you head, informing him again that everything was fine. Everything was far from fine: you felt like you had been thrown off a cliff, your sense of purpose and direction and meaning in life shattered. But you didn't want to burden Gavi with this knowledge. So you stood and collected your folders, lips pursed tightly. You would just have to pretend that you weren't desperate to confess to Pablo that he was the reason that you breathed air, and that you were focused on your meeting and nothing else.

He was not satisfied with your answer. Gavi searched for your eyes, trying to understand what he could have possibly done wrong to get you to change on him so quickly - to become so cold. But you refused to meet his gaze, and he was left to his own theories. Had the rumors of you two together repulsed you from him? Were you unable to look him in the eye now that someone had put the thought in your head that you two could be more than friends? Had you finally decided you were too mature and good for him? He had chewed his lips and inner cheek all night pondering these possibilities.

"Please, y/n, if I did something, let me make it right."

"Gavi." Bad sign. You never called him Gavi when you were happy with him. Gavi was his official name in the team, the professional term you addressed him by. His stomach sank, and everything in him screamed to take you into his arms, not letting you go until he once again heard the sweet sound of "Pablo" drip from your lips like honey.

You wanted to grab him and shake him, scream at him, and cry into his shoulder. You wanted to tell him that there was no way for him to make it right, unless he was ready to have you, wholly and completely, never letting you go no matter the consequences. You wanted to tell him the only thing that could fix it was the one thing you could never ask for: his love.

"I need you... to stay away from me for a while."

Gavi could swear e felt his heart crack in two. What could he have possibly done? What heinous crime had he committed that made you need such a high degree of separation. He had been right there: he had you in his arms, laid on his chest, and heartbeat synching with his own. Now, everything was slipping through his fingers like fine sand, and he was watching you disappear before his very eyes.

"Not because I'm angry with you, but I just... need space."

Gavi could do nothing but stare, mouth agape, begging every power that be for this to be a cruel joke. But you continued to shuffle your papers, and the punchline never came. Before he could form a response, a knock resounded from the door, and Xavi walked into the office.

"Gavi, you're here early." He said, eyebrow raised at you in suspicion. The young footballer swallowed this hurt and his pride, clearing his throat to speak.

"Yeah, just came to get some more medical tape. Doctora y/l/n told me we have some in the locker room. I'll be going now."

Gave left your office, shutting the door behind him, but he could not move. He leaned against the wall, trying to fill his lungs with air, but the breaths he took didn't feel like enough. Tears pricked at his eyes, and he was reminded of his childhood, when the other boys would bully him and push him around the field. That was the last time he properly cried of pain. It was happening now, for the first time in 11 years, but this was a different kind of pain. There were needles pricking every inch of his skin, and he could do nothing except let the pain overtake him. What could he have possibly done to push you away?

He was taken out of his thoughts by the sound of Xavi's voice through the door. He knew he shouldn't have been listening, but he needed to hear you. He needed to listen to you speak, hear the normalcy in your voice, if he ever wanted to move from that God forsaken spot in front of your door.

"-a little late notice. You should try and schedule further in advance for coming meetings." Xavi said. It was unusual for Gavi to hear you be scolded. When had you asked to meet him?

"I apologize, mister, but it was all some very late occurrences, and I didn't want to delay."

"Alright then, go ahead."

"As you know, we are about 10 days into the January transfer window, and while players are getting offers from all over, this is also the time when clubs try and change staff."

Pablo put a hand over his mouth to cover any sounds he made and prevent himself from vomiting. He didn't like where this was going.

"Yes, I'm aware." Xavi responded. "Antonio is leaving us during this window."

"Exactly. That's actually what I wanted to speak to you about. Antonio, as we all know, is a very talented physiotherapist and sports medic, meaning he got offers from a number of clubs. He received a position as head of physiotherapy at Chelsea, which he had to reject obviously to join Man City. Yesterday, he graciously got the offer forwarded to me."

"Miss y/n, please clarify your intentions. I am not very good at understanding subtext." Xavi laughed out.

"Yes sir. I'll be direct then: I am considering leaving F.C. Barcelona at the end of the transfer window."

~~~~~~~

A/N: guys pls don't kill me I'm sorry for the end (not rlly lol). I hope you all enjoyed what is officially the longest part of the series to date!! Got close to my 15k goal, but not there yet - maybe in the next part. My hands are actually cramping from all the writing this is borderline self-inflicted torture lol. Did y'all catch the subtle title/ lyric references? As usual, please leave thoughts, feedback, predictions, etc. in the replies - I love reading all of them so much!!! Esp watching the way people think the story is going to progress because sometimes y'all are spot on and sometimes y'all are wayyyy off and I'm like "wait that would actually be a great plot for another series". Anyways love you all and hope you enjoy!! Part 8??? She's gonna be intense y'all.

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

#pablo gavi x reader #gavi #pablo gavi imagine #gavi x reader #pablo gavi #pablo gavi x y/n #gavisuntiedboot #gavi imagine #pablo gavi fluff #gavi fic #pablo gavi fanfiction #gavi x you #fc barca #gavi fluff #gavi fanfic #pablo gavi slow burn #pablo gavi x reader fluff #fc barcelona #pablo gavi angst #gavi angst

[gerryrigged]

wait wdym dc didn't stick with Red Robin for Tim [and the de-aging thing?] what are they calling him if not RR?

He's been Robin again since 2019 😬 it's a bit more complicated but that's the gist of it.

Okay so Tim became Red Robin in the 2009-2011 series of the same name, back in the post-Crisis timeline. He was supposedly 17 at the time, by official records, and I believe he was still supposed to be 17 when the universe was rebooted with Flashpoint in 2011? (Although this doesn't really make any sense with respect to jamming the huge number of events that happened while he was Robin into like four years, if he was supposed to have become Robin at 13; he should probably at least be 18 if not 19-20).

The Flashpoint reboot took us into the New 52 (much beloathed), where nearly everyone was de-aged to some extent to keep Bruce Wayne and his generation from getting ~too old~, and also Tim Drake was mangled into a completely different character who had never been "Robin"; he'd been "Red Robin" right from the start of his vigilante career. He was de-aged to 16 for the New 52 Teen Titans series.

Teen Titans (2011) #0; as you can see, this version of Red Robin kept a version of the bandoliers and gave Tim a fancy new functional wing cape that he could fly around with.

Next, Rebirth in 2016 was a partial reboot that brought back some aspects of the post-Crisis timeline; tbh I'm not an expert on this period. What I do know is that Tim mainly appears in James Tynion IV's run of Detective Comics that ran from 2016 to 2018. During this period Tim was still called Red Robin, but he'd basically reverted to a Robin costume, with only the silly doubled "RR" symbol identifying him as not ~actually~ Robin winkwink nudgenudge, and as I understand it he was mostly back to functioning as Bruce's partner.

Tynion's run ends in Detective Comics #981 with Tim telling Bruce that he's going off to Ivy University. (He's totally lying, as Tim Drake does; Alfred notices that his tracker is going off in the opposite direction of the university, but Bruce is like "I trust him" and turns the tracker off. Yay, I guess?)

Anyway the important bit is this revealing that Tim is 'going-off-to-college' age. Which could still reasonably be anywhere from 17-19, and DC being DC, they ~refuse to confirm~

Tim as Red Robin on the cover of Detective Comics #934 (2016); as you can see, he's pretty much Robin again lol

Detective Comics #968 (2018); another shot of his "basically Robin" Red Robin costume

In 2019 we got the actual return of Tim as Robin (no "Red") in Brian Michael Bendis's Young Justice run, re-uniting the Core Four from YJ 1998.

Young Justice (2019) #1

As you can see, he no longer has the doubled 'RR', and he confirms that he's Robin - "Well, one of them!" I think he's supposed to be filling in as the Gotham Robin while Damian is running around the world having adventures and presumably getting into trouble, as Robins do? idk.

Tim also chases down his erased post-Crisis past at the beginning of this arc, having Zatanna magically restore (most of) his memories of the previous timeline, and, crucially, his forgotten best friend Kon, kickstarting some plot.

Tim, and all of the Young Justice crew, are notably young-looking for almost the entirety of this run. It varies based on the artist, but uh, yeah for the most part they are really damn baby-faced. This is a trend that continues with Tim and his generation of friends from this point onward, so fans have basically thrown up their hands like "is he 17 forever???? is he Edward Cullen from Twilight???? is he aging backward????"

We Just Don't Know

In any case, Bendis makes DC's next attempt to give Tim his own identity in short order, giving us the hilarious, ill-fated, and rightfully short-lived "Drake" identity.

Young Justice (2019) #10

He's back to being Robin by issue #18, hilariously switching costumes from one page to the next, although some time has apparently passed during the scene transition.

Young Justice (2019) #18; Jinny: "Is Drake back to being Robin?" Kon: "I think Batman and Spoiler made him go back to Robin. Don't bring it up. And say thank you because we didn't have to have the Drake intervention we were planning."

And as of the current date (July 13, 2023), Tim is still in the Robin identity, sharing it with Damian ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ God knows how old he's supposed to be right now. I certainly don't.

Batman (2016) #136; the most recent issue out to date, with Tim suiting up as Robin while filling Bruce in after diving into a bunch of parallel dimensions to bring Bruce home.

As you can see, it's a Mess. The Tim Drake's Vigilante Identity question is of course a hotbed of wank and infighting, as people are torn between (a) wanting him to continue as Robin and (b) wanting him to move on and "grow up" into his own identity again (and, importantly, leave Damian as the sole Robin again, lol).

It feels like most people are for option (b), but then nobody can agree on what his next identity and costume should be. Red Robin again?? Some other bird-based identity that doesn't share a name with a major restaurant chain?? Something else entirely??

God only knows what DC is going to come up with, especially after the Drake fiasco.

And there you have it, Anon! Hope that was helpful.

#tim drake #robin #red robin #batman #dc #dcu #dc comics #anonymoose #asks #I've read very very few post-Flashpoint comics tbh so I can't pretend to be an expert but this should be accurate I think #happy for any corrections #I only started paying attention to DC again with Young Justice (2019) #bc MY BLORBOS #so it's mostly that and YJ Dark Crisis (terrible horrible burn it with fire) and now Chip Zdarsky's Batman run #because Tim Tim Tim Tim and also YJ #I'm also about halfway through Tim Drake: Robin #oh and the Mark Waid/Dan Mora World's Finest; which is delightful tbh #I also have some post-Flashpoint Nightwing runs on my To Read list #mostly the Dick & Tim bits bc I am Predictable #gerryrigged

[lexosaurus]

Danny Phantom AUs

Hello I found this list of AUs from @the-stove-is-on-fire and I am copy and pasting it under the readmore.

Edit: Thanks to all the feeback, I've added a bunch more! If I'm missing any other popular ones, let me know!

Actor AU: Danny is an actor on the Danny Phantom show

Ancient Danny AU: Danny is one of the Ancients who sealed Pariah away.

Astronaut Danny AU

Badger Cereal / Daniel Masters: Father&Son Vlad and Danny bonding, can be evil

Banshee Danny AU: Danny slowly loses his color every time someone dies in Amity Park.

Blue Danny: Danny is blue as a halfa/ghost

Cheese Melt: Vlad tries to be a good parent to Dani

Circus Danny AU: Danny never escapes the circus from Freakshow following "Control Freaks"

Clockwork's Apprentice AU

Clockwork is Danny: Danny has Clockwork's role in the show

Clone AU: Danny's just another of Vlad's clones

Coffee Ghost AU: Phantom haunts a college as a tired, caffeine addicted ghost

Corpse AU: Danny Going Ghost leaves behind an actual corpse/Danny is still a halfa but his portal accident left behind a corpse

Cryptid Danny AU: Danny/Phantom is the local cryptid

Cyborg/Halfa/Nanobot Valerie AU: Valerie's ghost turns her into either a cyborg, a part-ghost, or a human with some ghostly attributes

Dani Masters: Vlad decides to raise Dani as his actual daughter 

Danny and Val Swap AU: Danny is the Red Hunter and Valerie is the halfa

Disabled Danny

Dual Obsession AU: Danny has 2 obsessions: usually space and protection

Dragon Danny AU: Danny always has been, or is turned into, a dragon 

Electric Core AU: instead of ice powers, Danny gains electricity powers

Evil Trio AU: Pharaoh Tucker, Plant Sam, and either Dan or Void Danny.

Everyone Knows AU: Everyone knows that Danny is Phantom

Family Breakfast: Vlad/Maddie/Jack

Fantasy AU

Feral Ghost AU: Ghosts are more animalistic than the show depicted.

Fire Core AU: Danny's lab accident gave him a fire core and took place 100 years before Sam and Tucker ever found him. (source)

Full Ghost Danny: Danny fully died in the portal

Full Hazmat AU: Danny half-died while wearing an actual hazmat suit

Full Human AU: Danny is just Some Guy

Ghost Hunger AU: halfas/ghosts must consume ectoplasm

Ghost King AU: Danny (or someone else) is crowned the new ghost king

Ghost Speak: Ghosts speak a language called Ghost Speak

Ghostly Adoption AU: Phantom gets adopted by the ghosts

GIW [character] AU: [character] (usually Danny or Valerie) gets a job with the GIW.

Glowing Freckles AU: Phantom has freckles (can look like constellations) that glow

Good Vlad/Mentor Vlad

Halfa Jack AU: Vlad marries Maddie and Jack is the halfa

Halfa Jazz AU: Jazz was the one who went into the ghost portal

Halfa Trio AU: All three of them got hit by the portal

(Half) Human AU: Danny starts out a ghost and the portal turns him into a halfa/human

Immortal Danny AU: Danny turns immortal/never ages

Inverse Trio: Tucker is the halfa, Danny is the goth, Sam is the nerd

Lab Rat / Dissection: Fentons experiment on Phantom and/or Danny

Liminal Amity Park AU: Citizens of Amity Park gain ghostly characteristics due to ambient ectoplasm

MerAU: The ghosts are actually mermaids

Monster Appearance AU: Danny’s ghost form looks grotesque or like a monster

No One Knows AU: No one knows Danny is half-ghost

Phantom Phamily: Danny (possibly split into Phantom), Dani, and Dan are all living together.

Pitch AU: The show's original pitch. Danny is a human with an owl named Spooky, rides a motorcycle, and has a psychic connection with Sam.

Pitch Pearl/Danny and Phantom are separate beings: Danny and Phantom are separate beings (ship is Pitch Pearl)

Portal Danny AU: Danny is the Fenton Portal

Possessed by Phantom: Halfas are just dead people possessed by ghosts. Ghosts may or may not have their memories.

Reverse Trio: Sam is the halfa, Tucker is the goth, Danny is the nerd

Secret Experiment AU: Maddie and Jack intentionally turned Danny into a halfa

SCP AU: In which Danny is either captured by the SCP Foundation, Fenton Works is a branch of the SCP Foundation and Danny/the other ghosts are SCPs

Space AU: Alien or mass effect style

Undergrowth Sam: Sam keeps her plant powers following the events of "Urban Jungle"

Void Danny: Nocturne gets ahold of Danny (source)

Werewolf Tucker/Witch Sam AU: Tucker is a werewolf and Sam is a witch

Wings AU: Danny grows wings/Everyone has wings

#danny phantom #AUs #HCs #need a full list before I release the dannymay poll

[cleolinda]

A tale retold

I first told this story some twenty years ago, and it happened even earlier than that, so here's the Modern Retelling with Historical Context:

For many years, I had—well, you've heard of naturally curly hair? I had unnaturally curly hair. I had a stylist so brilliant that she was able to give me occasional perms that no one could tell were chemical. NO, FOR REAL, I constantly got compliments on my long, rippling hair. In reality, my hair is deplorably fine and flat, although I'm told I have a ton of it; putting in some wave made me feel better, you know? I just wanted to co-wash, air-dry, and go live my tousled life. But after my spinal surgery, I just couldn't spend 2-3 hours in a stylist's chair anymore. And so, after 20 years of my best Galadriel impression, I've had to make peace with my natural texture, the only thing about me (I realize now) that is actually straight.

But this story takes place back in 1996; I was a junior in high school, and I had the freshest of perms. Just absolutely exuberant. Downright Pre-Raphaelite. It had only been done the weekend before, and it usually took about two weeks for the curls to settle down and look less poodly natural, but I wasn't going to miss Baz Luhrmann's Romeo + Juliet. When I was in grad school years later, my Shakespeare professor went to the mat for this movie, declaring it the best adaptation of any of his plays. And she wasn't a Leo fangirl, either. I tend to agree. And I got to see it on a big screen, opening night, with my best friend and my fresh luscious elbow-length '90s 'do. Banger soundtrack, the big bold visuals that tip over into Maybe Too Much in Moulin Rouge—I'm enthralled, I'm absorbed. Claire Danes is weeping over Dead Romeo, and we all know what’s about to happen in this, a 400-year-old play, but you still hope against hope that somehow it won’t this time. And then I feel something that's not emotion.

Something behind me. In my hair.

It's clammy. This tiny moist hand... creeping... up my neck.

Bear in mind, these are classic movie theater seats, not the big recliners you get now. My head is vulnerable to rear attack. And these tiny fingers, like a gummy little doll's hand, are crawling up my neck, under, through my hair. I am now sitting bolt upright, frozen. What the fuck is going on. It’s still creeping like a little spider up my scalp to the back of my head—put your hand up to yours, get your fingertips to the roots of your hair and really get a sense of what this feels like—

These fingers close, slowly, around the greediest handful of hair they can get hold of, and YANK.

I whip around while Juliet is sobbing—darkness.

To this day, I have no idea who (or what?) that tiny hand belonged to. I mean, you gotta think it was a small child enticed by the siren song of my curls, right? Some parents just didn’t spring for a babysitter on a big opening night, and there’s a Millennial out there with some real interesting core memories, I guess? I couldn't make out anything in the darkness behind me, and we were at kind of a key cinematic moment, so I didn't have time for more than a stern warning glare To Whom It Might Concern. And then I held onto my hair for the remainder of the movie. I chopped it all off within a few months, and went to college with short, straight hair, unable to forget the Cursèd Touch of the Hand. lol jk I just wanted a change and regretted it instantly.

So, happy 20th anniversary to the story I told on the Fametracker forums all those years ago. I can still remember exactly what that hand felt like: tiny. And moist.

#story time with cleo #me for some reason #long post #tiny moist hand #livejournal

[char-shifting]

what if i try to shift first to a waiting room and then to my actual drs?

waiting rooms are already a dr but with less information, mine for example its a bedroom where i look like my cr self and the only extras i scripted is that i have infinite money and im immortal, so its easier to visualize

and my main dr is a whole life, with core memories, friends, family, college so there's a lot to visualize

and each time we shift, it gets easier and easier so later it'll be easier to shift to my main dr

or am i delusional?

#reality shift #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifting #shifting realities #shifters #shiftinconsciousness #realityshifter #shifting tips #shifting community

[zzzennin]

would've, could've, should've.

I haven't written anything in so long I just type vomited here, so no beta read. English is not my first language. Heavily inspired by this song.

TW: alcohol consumption, mentions of infidelity, abuse, age gap (you 18 and endeavor on his 40's) , depression, mention death a couple times too, very indecent relationship, power abuse, virginity loss, Endeavor is the bad guy, he is taking advantage of the reader. lmk if I forgot something.

You were way too drunk to be speaking like this, always being quiet and so private about your life, maybe the silence caught up on you. Maybe was seeing that stupid post on Facebook from that friend from your mom praising that perverted old man for being such an inspiration for the younger generations, a role model as a hero, as a husband, as a father.

If they only knew what a piece of shit Endeavor was.

Fresh 18, your first job was an internship actually but who cares, you were so excited about not only making some cash so you could afford your own place when college started but maybe if you're lucky you could even get a date with that new hero Hawks he was so cute and charming. A hero did actually put their eyes on you, just not the one you expected.

Now, at 27 all those memories feel like weapons pointed at your head, land mines in random places that when you forget about them they explode you back to your younger self, stupid and naive. You would be lying if you said that getting his attention didn1t make you feel important and seen. He was so charming with small smiles and little chocolates he left at your desk, the post-shift he stayed with you when you have to do tons of photocopies Endeavor made you laugh and carried all that paper for your little arms.

He walked you home, he was a hero after all just couldn't let his inter go home by herself the city is so dangerous when the sun goes down. So he took his big fancy car and drove you home listening to soft love songs, he was so handsome. Took you to the diner the first time cause you worked so hard, deserved a belly full of good food, he'll pay. On the way home, he put his big hand on your tight. Your core pulsed.

He's married, older than you, maybe is an old man thing? you thought to yourself.

But soon enough it got clear that he was, in fact, hitting on you, silly you got so happy blushing like a school girl, you were just two years older than his younger son. You wish now that you tasted like poison on his lips every time he kissed you so passionately, he would spit you out and never speak on it again. But you were sweet, a honeypot he couldn't get enough of.

So he started to consume your days, nights and all your thoughts were about him, how to please him, become better for him. And Endeavor loved that shit, the adoration on your eyes. How he got to corrupt you slowly in every single way. You begged for his time, for a drop of love and attention, and got you hooked on him. His smell, his skin, lips, dick and he fucked you so good.

Endeavor was your first, to clear the tears from your face as you lay under him in a love hotel by the beach, your parents think you went with some school friends, but you were in that dirty hotel in a faraway city with a married man taking your virginity.

If there's lucidity in death why this just doesn't die already? He broke you so many years ago and you still mourn the person who you were before him, you still fight him in your sleep in your restless nights. You still regret him all the time. Every second he happens to cross your mind.

He used, abused you, and trowed away like you never existed in the first place.

Many years later you sat in a dirty bar with bloodshot eyes while your fourth drink is in your hand and you just spilled everything out to the random person who happened to sit near you, he didn't know you anyway.

"What a fucker" his deep voice replies and for the first time in what feels like hours you get your head up and look at the man the eyes, bright blue eyes, and dark hair, half his face is burned and you are pretty sure you saw him on the news the other day. You are too tired to care, if he kills you tonight maybe this could be a closure, not a satisfactory one, but still. "you know, I live by one philosophy, think you gonna like it".

He takes a sip from his drink.

"Don't get sad. Get even"

#endeavor #bnha enji #enji x reader #bnha endeavour #endeavour smut #enji todoroki #bnha headcannons #smut #enji smut #endeavor smut #hinted dabi #dabi wants you to burn his father reputation #enji todoroki is an asshole #bnha fanfiction

[busterslefthand]

Good Omens Reverse AU + BoxFly

Season 2 Spoilers

Crowley aka Raphael

• Core Difference: He accepts, even embracing, change. Volunteered to guard Eden after hearing about earth and the ineffable plan. Finds the mystery of the plan fascinating, and has treated it like a puzzle he learns at his own pace.

• Had no intention of actually spreading good, just wanted to see how things would play out first hand.

• Likes to follow and tease Mr Fell for being a bad demon (good person). “No judgement” ass.

• The original van life girlie. Owns a vintage 70s van. While he officially put heaven’s earthly HQ in an apartment, he travels around in his van with his plants.

• Likes to try out different parenting methods on the plants since anger & resentment isn’t fueling his being.

• Reason for saving earth: the idea of ending the world and returning to a stagnant eternity seems awfully boring. He hasn’t even gotten to see humanity’s reaction to seeing his star system. (plus he’s grown fond of the planet and his demon, although it’s hard for him to admit it).

Aziraphale aka Azazel / A. Z. Fell / Mr. Fell (preferred)

• Not very creative with the new name. Clings to his angel name a bit.

• Core Difference: Fell because of his fear of change. Had a whole existential crisis following the ineffable plan that led him questioning God.

• Just a ball of self loathing and identity crisis. Constantly. Blames himself for falling, no ill will towards God. Has really tried to lean into the mean evil demon thing, but is a little too soft for that approach. Is at his best at tempting by either existentially dumping on people or with a “the water’s fine” / gentle parenting approach by spinning it to be a good thing.

• A bit of an agoraphobe and a hoarder. His bookshop is just piles and piles of books.

• Avoids hell as much as possible. Earth is his safe space and comfort planet.

• Reason for saving earth: it has become his home. He’s fallen in love with human things like music, food, and the arts.

• Reason for the s2 breakup: Raphael turns down Metatron’s offer to be supreme angel (and consequently the offer for Fell to become an angel). Raphael still sees the heaven & hell as toxic, but Fell would give anything to be welcomed into heaven again.

Beelzebub aka Jophiel

• Runs heaven like a summer camp with college student camp counselors (go bother someone else mentality). Those in charge are like “Uh, I don’t know. Go cure a kid of cancer or something.”

• Takes the ineffable plan as an excuse to be a laissez fair leader. The ineffable plan is God’s will, and God’s will be done so it’s all fine. It will work out; the angels are just here to see it along.

• Instead of a throne room or an office space, they have more of a spa area with a desk & a telephone for emergencies.

Gabriel aka Baal

• Runs hell like a miserable 9 to 5 cubicle job mixed with the DMV.

• That obnoxious boss that abuses power, and has employees doing things beyond their job description.

• Sent Fell to earth because he was “too depressing” and was “bringing down the energy of hell.”

• He still is the one who runs away from his post and wipes his own memory. Michael (aka Paimon) is no. 3, and is constantly scheming to overthrow Gabriel.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #boxfly #ineffable spouses #good omens reverse au #angel!crowley #demon!aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale #beelzebub #gabriel #ineffable bureaucracy #gos2 spoilers

[hazbinhazbinhazbinreblog]

Okay Radio Guard Charlie deep dive written by a tired, about to pass out college student, wooo.

So this is probs gonna be long so fair warning.

To start off, Charlie, canonically in Radio Guard, barely remembers her mom (yes I am going down the super angsty route since I like to torment myself and it adds extra angst drama flare). As a trade off, Charlie has a better relationship with Lucifer so compared to other Charlies probably.

That said, it did take awhile for Lucifer to come back into the picture, so for a good while, Alastor was her sole caretaker. Like mentioned in a previous ask/lore dump, Alastor was there for a lot of core memories. And because of that, Alastor did influence a lot. Besides the stuff I mentioned before, Charlie grew up learning to play the piano. She also grew up listening to Alastor's radio show, a lot (due to a headcanon that, by Lucifer's permission or not, a study was transformed into Alastor's own personal radio studio in the castle so he could keep an eye on Charlie easier). Because of the radio show, she grew up hearing stories of Alastor's past and what he did, although she only got the full picture when she got older and Alastor felt comfortable sharing the full stories with her (graphic details and all, only if she said she could stomach them). One of the many fond memories Charlie has is falling asleep in Alastor's arms while he was doing a radio show when she was still young and waking up briefly, barely half awake, to hear Alastor speak without his radio filter and how calming and kind it sounded (she also remembers how tired he sounded but how warm his smile was. And while she knows Alastor will deny it, she vaguely remembers Alastor kissing the top of her head like how a father would with his child when she was drifting back to sleep).

Charlie personality wise is pretty much the same. She is still bubbly and happy, but not as naive as her canon self. I think, again with Alastor influence (with some of Lucifer's influence too), I think Charlie knows there are some sinners out there who just, cannot be redeemed to save their lives. It was a hard lesson for her but it was a lesson she needed to learn. I also think in a weird way, Alastor's weird sense of justice probably rubbed off onto Charlie. She doesn't agree with his methods (i.e brutally killing, torturing, and broadcasting a sinner's screams on his show), but like she gets why he does the things he does too. But even then, she still asks him to go easy on people and try to be open-minded (fun fact: the ONLY reason Alastor didn't snap Radio Guard!Vox like a twig in a blind rage when they reunited was because of Charlie asking Alastor to not hurt him and to give him a chance. That is mainly because Charlie was very in the dark about Alastor and Vox's relationship prior, but even if she knew, she would still ask Alastor to give Vox a chance since Vox didn't seem so bad).

Other stuff to note and add to! Like mentioned in a previous ask/lore dump, Charlie knows old songs. The three she remembers the most is: Daisy Bell, The Teddy Bear’s Picnic and Tiptoe Through the Tulips. Daisy Bell is kind of more angsty reason (i.e, it's a song she always heard Alastor sing but never got why he sang it until one day in the hotel she overheard Vox singing a few of the lyrics to himself). She has a record player where she plays a lot of old music or jazz. She does actually have a radio, it's a small little portable one, that is more of a 1940s model then 20s or 30s (she saw it in the window of a store one day and begged Alastor to get it for her when they were going on a walk). For a good bit of time, growing up, she spoke solely in 1920s to 1930s slang. Alastor found it funny, Husk did not. They begged her stop though when she kept demanding giggle juice, as giggle juice is booze and she thought it was just juice that made you happy. (Alastor voice: It does but you are like 9, so, you cant have it. /j).

As for clothing style, if you remember her pilot outfit, the one with the suspenders and that is black and white. Yeah that is just her canon outfit now. She wears a lot of suspenders and more masc 1920s clothing. Alastor helped her pick out the clothes when she asked if she could wear clothes similar to his era and he was happy to help (and he will deny he cried tears of joy, no rosie, you have no photo evidence of that, what do you mean?). She even has a cute little news boy cap to match her outfit! I also think Radio Guard Charlie's hair is either shorter or always in a updo, like a messy bun!

(and smacking this near the end, while writing this, i took a small break and got notified of the fic with radio guard alastor and just, chef's kiss, I love it. 10 out of 10 fanfic anon!)

-⚔️ anon

LORE LORE LORE

Alastor's comment on the "giggle juice" had me laughing for several minutes ngl. I love love love the outfit you've come up with for her too

#ask #radioguard au #⚔️ anon

[triviallytrue]

Genuine question: How does one get good at programming? Like I’m good at math, I know basic C# more or less and I get a lot of the core concepts, but I can’t imagine what it’s even like to be proficient at this stuff. Is there a point where you just “get it”, or do you just have to keep googling why your script isn’t working over and over until you die?

There isn't really any one generalized "programming skill" - it's possible to have a lot of computer science understanding but be completely unable to accomplish specific tasks, or to get very good at accomplishing specific tasks without any real computer science understanding

In college I took a number of CS classes that were mostly language agnostic focusing on broad topics like asymptotic analysis, data structures and algorithms, recursion, and reading/understanding code (and more specific stuff about memory management/how computers work etc)

This core foundation has been very useful to me, but it's worth noting that at the time I graduated college I wasn't really "good at programming" in any meaningful sense - if you asked me to accomplish an actual concrete, useful task, I would've struggled quite a bit!

So how do you get good at accomplishing tasks? Same as anything else, spend a lot of time doing similar things and (ideally) expand your skillset over time. It helps a lot to have a programming job, both because it means you spend all day doing this kind of thing and because you're surrounded by (ideally) good code/tools and people who are more experienced than you

To quote myself on my sideblog:

#coding

[juceynightmare]

dating 101 (18+) part 13 - cody rhodes x reader

my masterlist

dating 101 (18+) masterlist

pairing(s): cody rhodes x reader, roman reigns x reader

warning(s): swearing, all-knowing!ted

genre(s): college!au, slow burn, fluff, angst

|| previous part || next part ||

y/n had made of fool of herself by trying to stand up immediately after cody was finished wiping away at her core and had quite literally fallen on her face. she wanted to be mad at the way cody had laughed at her and teased her with a “i knew i was good, but i didn’t know i was that good.” but she could only laugh alongside him as cody picked her up and steadied her on her feet. the two went off to shower after y/n regained her footing, and despite cody’s suggestive look, she had shoved him out of her shower stall and shut the door in his face to leave him taking a shower in the stall beside hers. even with all the activities that filled her morning, it still wouldn’t be for another hour that roman would arrive.

that left y/n to sit at her desk, munching away on a clif bar while cody was shoving her blanket and bedsheets into her laundry basket. she stood up and walked over to cody, tapping at his shoulder to make him look at her. she held up the clif bar to his mouth, and said, “finish it. i don’t want to get too full before my date.”

cody leaned down, grabbing the clif bar with his mouth and letting out a muffled, “thanks sweetheart.” he dropped the towel he used to wipe y/n and himself off into the laundry basket and grabbed the clif bar with his hand so he could hold it properly and finish it.

y/n threw away the wrapper that cody had left in her hand when he grabbed the bar with his mouth, before walking back over to her desk and opening one of the drawers. she pulled out a box of plan b and a pair of scissors, cutting open the plastic container that held the actual box. “i’m supposed to take only one, right?” she asked.

cody’s eyebrows furrowed as he walked over to y/n, peeking into her desk. “for someone who was a virgin, it’s shocking that you have even one plan b, but i don’t know why you would have a second one in here.” he commented, before grabbing for the other box that sat in the drawer. he read the back before answering, “yeah just take one. you should be fine.”

“they were going away gifts from my friends from high school. you know, the girls, their boyfriends, and then austin.” she answered truthfully, grinning at the memory of her high school friend group gifting her the plan b’s the day before she left for college.

“for when you finally get some in your dorm!” she could hear indi and candice saying to her, while their boyfriends, dexter and johnny, laughed beside them.

“and the second one’s for when you come home and bend over for me.” y/n remembered rolling her eyes at austin’s comment and chasing him around with a lightsaber afterwards.

god, she really missed her friends.

“and i took them because it’s supposedly 50 bucks for one.” y/n continued, holding the pill in one hand while she reached for her water bottle with the other. y/n quickly swallowed the pill, watching as cody gathered up her trash and threw it out for her. afterwards, he reached out and grabbed her container of tide pods, opening it up and taking one out. “you don’t have to wash my stuff, you know. i could have done it when i got back.” she said.

cody shook his head, already walking back over to where her laundry basket was and picking it up. “it’s fine, sweetheart. i also helped making the mess, anyway.” he assured her, already making his way towards the door. “i’ll be back!” he called out to her as he left, making his way down to the laundry room.

y/n stared at cody’s back as he left the room, watching the way his shoulder and arm muscles flexed as he adjusted the laundry basket in his hands. she no longer felt shy about staring, after all, she had gotten the chance to see and feel all of cody. although, that wasn’t the most difficult thing for someone to do. she thought to herself, amused. y/n sat back down in her chair, plugging in her hair dryer and beginning to blow dry her hair.

she hadn’t even notice ted walk into the room, but then again, she was focused on her reflection in the small mirror she had on her desk, and the sound of the hair dryer was far too loud for her to hear ted open his door and walk over to her room.

“you look beautiful, y/n. roman’s a lucky guy.” ted said from behind her, causing y/n to jump in her seat. she turned off her hair dryer and turned her head to where she heard ted, smiling up at him. she reached a hand up, and smacked ted in the chest lightly.

“you could have made a noise when you came in, at least!” she scolded him, before unplugging her hair dryer. ted had perfect timing for when he made his presence known, as she had just finished drying and styling her hair.

“i did! you probably didn’t hear me over your hair dryer, though.” he defended himself, watching as y/n reached for a necklace on her jewelry stand. she held it up for ted to take, before turning around and lifting her hair up for him. “i was just going to sit on your bed in silence until you noticed, but i can’t help but note that one, there are no bed sheets, and two, there is no cody.” he laughed as he bent down slightly to put the necklace on y/n.

“what was that about no cody?” cody questioned as he walked back into the room, placing y/n’s now empty laundry basket back in its place. he looked over at y/n as she let her hair down after ted had tapped her shoulder to let her know the necklace was clasped on.

“man don’t tell me you’re doing her laundry for her.” ted laughed, walking over to cody and placing a hand on his shoulder. “can’t go simping over her when she’s about to go on a date with roman. you’re already too late.” he teased.

cody shoved ted’s hand off of his shoulder, and shot back, “man shut up. i’m not a simp, i’m just helping her out. and you would have done the same for her too. remember when you were literally folding her laundry for her and cleaning her room while she sat there and watched her movies.”

ted gasped, feigning offense. “she was on her period, wouldn’t stop complaining about doing her chores, and i was getting tired of her bitchin’ and complaining. and you could have helped me, but nooo you just had to go get pussy.” ted brought his arms up, and shifted himself so that he was standing in front of cody. the two caught each other in a wrestling lock-up, and pretended to struggle to out-muscle the other man.

it was a sight that y/n had gotten used to, especially once the two men found out they both had a history in wrestling.

“you know, you two already do so much for me as your best friend. the girls have even dubbed it as you two doing ‘boyfriend duties’. your future girlfriends are definitely going to be real lucky to have one of you.” y/n chimed in from where she sat in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest and a wide smile plastered on her face.

“oh hell no.” cody immediately yelled out, breaking free of the hold. “if you think i would ever get cuffed, then you must be in some sort of nightmare. i’m way too good of a guy to be limited to just one lady, there’s plenty of me to go around.” he smirked, gesturing to his upper body while ted simply shook his head and laughed.

“you better not be trying to seduce my date right in front of me, uce. get in the back of the line.” came an amused voice from the hallway. cody, ted, and y/n all averted their gaze to the source of the voice, finding roman standing out in the hall.

the sight of roman had knocked the wind out of y/n’s lungs, and she was certain the world around her had paused to a stop. it seemed that she wasn’t the only one who had dressed to impress, as roman was clad in slacks that hugged his thighs deliciously, and a black button up shirt that y/n could tell could barely hold in the man’s muscles.

“don’t worry, roman. i got enough for you too.” cody jokingly flirted, walking over to roman and greeting him with a handshake. he gestured for ted to follow him out of the room with his head. “have a good date!”

“alright, we’ll get out. have fun you two, and roman, use protection.” ted said his goodbyes to roman and y/n before following cody out of y/n’s room and straight into their own.

ted watched as cody sat down at his desk with a sigh, before shutting and locking the door behind him. “where were you this morning? after you got woken up by a phone call?” ted asked, sitting down in his own chair. he turned to face cody completely, a mischievous smile on his face.

cody shrugged, not knowing where ted was going with this conversation or why ted would question his whereabouts. it wasn’t like ted should care in the first place where cody was. “just a hookup, early morning sex, you know.” cody answered, flipping the top of his macbook open.

ted scooted over, closing cody’s macbook before the man could even type in his password. “hookup? surely not with y/n, right?” he pressed further. ted watched as, for the first time in the short time ted’s known cody, cody tensed up.

“no, not with y/n. where are you going with this? what does it matter to you where i was this morning?” cody suddenly questioned, turning his head to look at ted.

“it woke me up too, you know. the ringer.” ted mused, not faltering under cody’s gaze that had grown so defensive.

“my bad, i guess? i wasn’t exactly expecting to be woken up so early, and with a phone call, for that matter.” cody apologized, although he didn’t ease up. where was ted going with this? he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around it.

“are you sure it wasn’t with y/n? you know, that’d be on brand for you. taking our friend’s virginity the morning before she goes on a date with roman.” ted continued to press, watching the way cody had grown uncomfortable with each question. in truth, ted didn’t know anything besides the fact that yes, cody had gotten a phone call at ass o’clock that woke both him and ted up, and that cody reeked of sex when he returned to the room to grab his shower stuff while ted was still in bed and supposedly sleeping. he also knew that y/n was absolutely glowing when he first laid eyes on her - a glow that ted would dare compare to an after sex glow.

what had really got him to question cody’s whereabouts was the fact that y/n’s bedsheets weren’t on her bed, and cody was the one doing her laundry for her. cody had gotten ted with catching ted folding laundry and cleaning y/n’s room, but that was in ted’s nature to look after his friends.

but cody? cody never even showed interest in doing his own laundry, so why would he suddenly want to do y/n’s?

“dude, how are you not uncomfortable asking about whether or not i slept with y/n?” cody asked, taking a few seconds to think of a way to get ted off of his back. “man, she‘s a fucking virgin. she’d probably want to lose it to someone she trusts and that’d be her future boyfriend or whatever. besides, it’d be like” cody paused for a second, watching the way ted had leaned back in his seat and stared at him intently. “it’d be like fucking my sister.” he finished.

ted visibly cringed at the thought. yeah, he supposes that by now he already viewed y/n as if she were years younger than them and a sister figure to both even though she was the same age and clearly not related to either of them. “ok yeah, i get it. why’d you put that visual in my head?” ted questioned, turning himself away from cody and facing his desk as he turned his macbook on.

a silence filled the room, one that left ted uncomfortable and cody wondering what made ted catch on to him. he knew the rooms were soundproof, and ted clearly wasn’t in the room when cody and y/n had impulsively decided to fuck. cody figured y/n wanted to keep their newfound dynamic under wraps, especially since she’d most likely become exclusive with roman soon.

“what even made you think that the person i hooked up with was y/n?” cody questioned, pulling ted out of his thoughts.

ted shrugged his shoulders. “it’s very vague and i definitely looked too far into it, but i knew you had just fucked someone, you came back to get your shower stuff even though you take showers at night and you reeked of sex, man.” he said, shaking his head at the way cody had chuckled out a soft “my bad.”

ted reached over, nudging cody’s shoulder with his fist as if to let him know that it was all good. “but then i saw y/n, and you had to have noticed it too, but she’s absolutely glowing. i’d even compare it to an after sex glow.” he continued, smiling at the memory of y/n sitting at her desk. “but i guess she’s just that stunning. especially since today’s a special day for her’.”

cody felt his chest swell with pride knowing that he was, in fact, the cause of that glow that radiated off of y/n and not the fact that she had a date with roman. “lucky guy.” he sighed out, shaking his head. “that’s it? just the fact that i smelled like sex and she was glowing that you had to question me like i just committed a crime?”

“the laundry.” ted quickly answered. “y/n and i literally have to drag you out of bed to tell you to do your laundry. but then here you are doing y/n’s bedsheets for her. do you see why i find it suspicious?” he questioned, turning his attention back to cody.

cody shrugged his shoulders, defending quickly, “man i do one nice thing and you take it as me sleeping with our friend.“

without missing a beat, ted laughed and let out a “most definitely.” cody grabbed the nearest item to him on his desk, an empty water bottle, and chucked it at ted’s head.

“i’ve found myself getting protective over y/n lately. i guess it’s obvious now that you mentioned the whole sister thing, but she’s kind of like that to me now.” ted admitted, shaking his head. “sorry about jumping to conclusions, cody.”

“no worries. if i was in your position, i’d probably question the hell out of you.” cody admitted, turning his attention back to his macbook and turning it on so he could get started on work for the day. “you know, especially since you rarely get pussy these days.” he teased, to which ted responded by throwing back the empty water bottle at cody’s head. towards the forefront of his thoughts, cody could hear himself thank whatever power was above them that made sure ted didn’t see the plan b in the trash.

and yet, cody couldn’t help but find it exciting knowing that y/n and him may eventually get caught.

|| next part ||

#cody rhodes x reader #cody rhodes fanfiction #cody rhodes #cody rhodes imagine #wwe fanfic #wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #wwe #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns imagine