#i hated my time here so much that i wanted to quit the dream i've been working towards since i was 13 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chuluoyi · 5 months

Text

MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took of his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”

5K notes · View notes

glitterquadricorn · 8 months

Text

Another Leclerc - social media

+ summary: When rumors go around about another Leclerc joining the f1 grid, people automatically assume its Arthur, completely forgetting about y/n leclerc. She'll do anything for a formula one seat. Even if it meant going behind a certain driver's back. +pairing: none. + warning(s): sexism, google translate (I don't speak Italian nor French but if I have something wrong, let me know), like one curse word.

face claim: Lindsay brewer

+ author's note: for a while now I've been wanting to get back into writing, but writing fics stress me out, so I figured making social media/instgram posts will be a lot easier to put together. I've also decided to change how I do social media posts and I'm trying to figure things out, so in the meantime, bear with me.

itsy/nleclerc

liked by charlesleclerc, scuderiaferrari, and 20,102 others

itsy/nleclerc: *insert Sebastian Vettel quote here*

view all comments

charles_leclerc: isn't that my jacket? ⤷itsynleclerc: If I said no would you believe me? ⤷charles_leclerc: give me back my jacket or I'll tell mom ⤷itsy/nleclerc: go ahead and tell mom, you snitch

user1: Charles and y/n is exactly how my sister, and I are whenever she burrows my clothes.

patriciooward: when are you going to let me drive your Ferrari?⤷itsy/nleclerc: never. ⤷josefnewgarden: she won't even let me drive it and I'm her teammate! ⤷12willpower: she's let me drive it ⤷patriciooward: Y/N! I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!! ⤷itsy/nleclerc: other than my beloved Ferrari, I only love my bed and my mom I'm sorry!

user2: this made me feel ✨poor✨

scuderiaferrari: you have great taste, miss leclerc ⤷itsy/nleclerc: thank you! :)

user3: you look real good in red liked by itsy/nleclerc

user4: I so badly want her to race for Ferrari with Charles! liked by itsy/nleclerc

arthur_leclerc: is there something you want to share with the class?⤷itsy/nleclerc: nope 🤐

user5: y/n clearly knows something we don't ⤷user6: you don't think she's the leclerc deuxmoi is talking about, right? ⤷user5: I hope not because Arthur honestly deserves that f1 seat more than her.

ScuderiaFerrari:

liked by itsy/nleclerc, charles_leclerc, f1 and 3,689,758 others.

scuderiaferrari: two-time indy 500 winner & one-time indycar champion and the first woman to be in formula one since Lella Lombardi, y/n leclerc joins Ferrari in 2026!

view all comments

itsy/nleclerc: this has always been a childhood dream of mine to race for Ferrari! grazie per questa sorprendente opportunità! (thank you for this amazing opportunity) liked by scuderiaferarri

carlossainz55: you can't be serious

charles_leclerc: papa and jules would be proud ⤷itsy/n_leclerc: I know 😭😭

pierregasly: Congrats little leclerc! ⤷itsy/nleclerc: thank you, mon frère (my brother)

josefnewgarden: I'll miss having you around ⤷itsy/nleclerc: you and misses are always welcome to come to Monaco ⤷josefnewgarden: we might just take you up on that offer

lewishamilton: hopefully this is a step in the right direction in making the paddock more inclusive and welcoming for everyone! liked by itsy/nleclerc

user1: y/n doesn't belong in formula one. ⤷user2: and the fact that she's replacing someone that didn't need to be replaced is astounding! ⤷user3: the pressure will be too much for her and she'll fail like past women who've tried to make it in f1 ⤷user4: I predict she won't make it to summer break before she quits ⤷user5: why is it so hard for you to comprehend a woman being in formula one? I mean, if you hate women, just say so.

user6: my daughter has expressed interest in karting because of y/n

12willpower: I wish you nothing but the best, kid. ⤷itsy/nleclerc: thanks, old man! 😘

user7: y/n signing to Ferrari is great and all, but I'm over here asking myself what tf is in the water in monaco because it should be illegal to be this good looking! ⤷user8: you're out here asking the real questions ⤷user9: all I'm saying is God bless mama Leclerc

Chili man🌶️ How could do this to me? I thought we were friends.

Mini Leclerc What do you mean?

Chili man🌶️ Don't play dumb, y/n. You know exactly what you did.

Mini Leclerc Yes, I did sign with Ferrari. Yes, I did take your seat. You didn't sign an extension and they reached out to me. I saw an opportunity and I took it.

Chili man🌶️ I was getting ready to talk to Fred about an extension.

Mini Leclerc Early bird gets the worm?

Chili Man🌶️ You're a real bitch, you know that?

Mini Leclerc You think that's the first time a man, much less anyone has called me that? You know as much as I do that Formula one is a competitive sport and in order to get a seat, you may have to do some unspeakable things. Let me ask you a question, though. If the roles were reversed and you were me, would you have done the same thing?

*read*

Mini Leclerc you leaving me on read lets me know you would've. But I'll never apologize for my actions, Carlos. If you have any interest in IndyCar, I can give you some resources to help you out. Good luck in any of your future endeavors, Carlos.

---

thank you to @lorarri and @majaverse for helping me out. they didn't have to do that, but they did, so this is dedicated to them! :)

tagging list:

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @patzammit @yagirlmexic @tinycyberhacker @keenmarvellover @mrspeacem1nusone @lendeluxe @alexxavicry

if your name is crossed out, I couldn't tag you.

I'm going clean out my tagging list again, so if you want to stay on it, let me know.

#f1 x reader #formula one x driver!reader #formula one imagine #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #charles leclerc x leclerc!reader #arthur leclerc x leclerc!reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x driver!reader

1K notes · View notes

arienotari · 5 months

Text

Drowning

Summary: When your worst fear becomes a reality and all you have on the other side is a brown eyed boy.

Pairing: Wally Clark x Reader

Warnings: Death, Drowning, Bullying

Edit: I am terrible at editing, and I tried my best so I'm sorry if you find any mistakes. This is my first full story I am releasing out into the world.

Word Count: 3330

I’ve never liked swimming.

People say it makes them feel free, but I felt anything but free. Every chance I got I avoided water at all costs. It's suffocating. Something about floating in a body of endless water and possibilities always made my skin crawl. One major problem that contributes to my fear is the fact that I can’t swim. I don’t blame anyone for this setback because I've never asked how to or showed interest. My inability to swim didn’t become a problem for me until my senior year of high school. I’ve gotten out of swimming class every year up until now and I had no choice but to take it. I tried to tell the swimming coach and counselors privately that I couldn’t take the class. All they said was I could stay in the shallow end. That I’ll be fine. I believed them.

Word spread quickly throughout my class that I couldn’t swim once they started noticing I wouldn’t leave the 4ft mark. I didn’t really care, all I cared about was getting through the year. I was never really popular which didn’t matter much to me but being in this class never made it more obvious how much I hated it here. I felt eyes on me at all times which only made being in the water worse.

It was March 12, 2015. Only a couple months left of school and then I’d be off to NYU living my dream of being a writer. First I had to get through 4th period swim class of course. I walked into the girls changing room preparing for the next 50 minutes of anxiety as I put my swimsuit on. I folded my dark blue jeans, my gray sweater, and a white tank top with lace on the trim that I wore under the sweater. Making my way to the pool I started putting my hair up in place of a hair cap I seem to have forgotten. Staring at the water I can see the bottom but it doesn’t stop the feeling of wanting to crawl up from my throat. Half the girls were already in the water preparing for a game of volleyball. Step by step down the ladder my hands begin to shake and my mouth becomes dry like I just ate pancakes. I make my way to the back to avoid any confrontation or any chance of being involved in the game. The one thing good about this class is it has a perfect view of the sky. I always get lost staring out at it wondering who’s also looking back. It makes me forget the situation I’m in and my environment. That's until a ball lands in front of me and about 15 girls are looking back at me waiting for my next move. I pick it up with my now calmer hands from before and spike it. Thankfully I made it over to the other side and the girls immediately turned back to the game. Not without some dirty looks but quite frankly I don’t really care. I watch as Mrs. Withers gets a call which seems to be serious as she tells us that she needs to step outside and when the bell rings to just go ahead. It’s only 10 minutes later when the shower bell rings and I feel the crushing weight lift off my shoulders. The other girls split based on which ladder they are closest to heading to the locker room and I help one of the girls get the volleyballs together. Making my way back to solid ground I rush to put the balls away not wanting to be one of the last to leave. I grab a towel on the rack near the other end of the pool as I make my way back seeing the last of everyone leaving. At least that’s what I thought until I heard someone behind me scream “Wait up” before running past me tripping me in the process. Losing my balance I watch as the one who screamed leaves the room leaving me alone. I hit the water with a loud splash waiting to hit the bottom to kick back up only to never feel my feet hit the concrete. I try to reach for the surface but everything I try seems to pull me down further. I panic, feeling my lungs on fire from filling with water. I tried to scream but no one could hear me and no one ever would. Everything was starting to go black and everything was becoming numb. All I could think about was how much I would miss out on. Finally, everything goes dark and I feel like I’m floating but I’m not, I’m being pulled up. I grab onto whoever’s pulling me up as if my life depended on it. Once I reach the surface my lungs fill with air as I begin to cough unbearably with my eyes screwed shut. I feel myself being hoisted up on the ground and out of the water. I’m pulled into the person who saved me as I am unable to move from exhaustion. When the person holds my face to center it I finally open my eyes as I am met with wide brown ones.

“Are you okay”, he’s breathing heavily as I study him blocking out his yell to someone to bring his jacket.

I feel a warm weight on my shoulders seeing its a blue and white letterman jacket out of the corner of my eye.

“Thank you for saving me” I give him a weak smile but all I get in return is an expression filled with nothing but sorrow and guilt.

Still seated on the floor I hear a horrified scream from beside me causing me to whip my head towards the chaos. Suddenly time stops and everything goes silent as I choked out a sob watching as a student and Mrs. Withers pull my body out of the water. The whole class comes to watch as they try to resuscitate me but nothing is happening. I feel the stranger push my head into his chest and I begin to cry harder than before. He repeats “I know’s” and “I’m sorry’s” as my world comes crashing down on me.

Hours later we are still in the same position my hair and clothes dry now along with a tear-dried face. It’s dark outside with only the poolside fluorescent lights to illuminate our two figures. I begin to shiver more and more as the stranger who pulled me out of the water rubs my back and arms.

“We need to get up, you're getting too cold” he whispers, pulling his body to get a better look at me.

I lift myself up getting a better look at him as well as I memorize his long structured face, beauty marks, and brown eyes. After a minute I nod and try to stand up realizing that I’m still exhausted, the position not helping adding to the pain. He helps me steady myself and fully extend as he holds my hands making sure I’m okay.

“You should take a shower and change into your regular clothes, I’ll probably do the same and I will explain everything once we're done. Okay?”, he says softly with an uneasy half-smile waiting for my response.

“Okay,” I whisper back at him not wanting to raise my voice feeling it’ll be too much to handle.

His smile fills out more as he nods and begins to turn away to do the same tasks as me. I begin to turn away as well before I realize I never got the guy's name who pulled me out of the pool and stayed with me for hours.

“What’s your name?,” I said, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away.

He looks down at my hand holding his arm which makes me see I’m still holding onto him causing me to let go.

“Wally, Wally Clark”, he said with a wide smile that made me feel alive again for just a split second.

After warming up from the shower I changed into my clothes from before that were neatly folded. As I begin to walk out of the locker room I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look back at the girl staring at me feeling disconnected from who she was or what she could’ve been. I take a heavy breath before opening the door to leave and face the reality of my situation. Stepping into the hall, the school looked unnatural to me with the lights off. I look over and see a less wet and cold Wally approach me with the same smile as before.

“How was the shower? Do you feel better?”, he asked one right after the other.

“The shower was good and I’m doing the best I can with the fact that I am already dead,” I said, peering up at him only noticing now how tall he really is.

“I know it's hard and I’m sorry it happened this way but I will try to explain everything the best I can.”, he said, extending his elbow out for me to take it as we began to walk further down the halls.

And Just like he said Wally kept his word and explained everything to me that he could. Like how we’ll never be able to leave school grounds unless we pass on. He also showed me all the other kids stuck here just like us and told me how some passed. As well as the weird support group that the kids attend in the gym. Even though he’d joke he never sugar-coated anything, which I couldn't help but appreciate. I won’t lie, the first couple of weeks were rough. I was plagued by the memory of what happened as well as the thoughts of the future I’ll never get. It definitely didn’t help that everyone at school was mentioning it and not in a sorrowful way. During those few weeks, Wally helped a lot with trying to be a distraction so I wouldn’t focus on others. I guess one of the perks of being dead is being able to duplicate belongings so I was able to get my phone and journal. I found the perfect spot on the football field to just listen to music and lie down. I’d close my eyes and imagine what life could’ve been but I knew I couldn’t do that forever, so I started to write more. It was easier to put my wishes and fantasies on pages without having to dwell on them. I usually kept my writing to myself so around 7:30 every day I’d go to my little bubble of solitude on the field and write. It was May now so the sun would start to set around 8 giving me enough light and a view.

“What are you writing?'' I suddenly hear Wally's voice right next to my ear.

“Jesus Christ Wally you scared me to death”, I said, jumping in reaction to the sudden deep voice, placing my hand on my heart and dropping my journal.

“I mean it's a little too late for that someone must’ve beat me to it.”, he said smiling at me as he sat down next to me grabbing my journal to open it.

I glare at him and snatch my journal back.

“What too soon?”, he said with a stupid grin trying to get my journal back.

“Just a little,” I said, scrunching my nose.

“No but seriously what are you writing? You come out here every day and write in that little journal.” He said leaning back on his arms a bit more to get my full face into view.

I try to hide the blush that has crept up on my face when I realize that he’s been watching me come out here. After a moment I brush my hair out of my face and am met with those famous brown eyes. I take a deep breath before explaining to him my reasons.

“I don’t want to stay stuck in the living because all it’ll do is bring harm. All I thought about for the past couple of months was what I’ll miss but I never stopped and processed my death. I’ve been hurting for all the things I couldn’t change and it caused me to push anything away, even you. So I thought why not write my wishes and wants down so they don’t stay on my mind. At least this way I can close the journal.” I said with a tiny smile looking up at him as he was staring back intently listening.

“Before I died I wanted to be a writer and I had my whole life planned out, I was going to attend—“

“NYU, I know,” he said, finishing my sentence before I could.

I watch as Wally sits up straighter and scooches closer to me before tilting his head. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say because he’s fidgeting with his necklace. I wait for him because there’s no point in rushing, I have all the time in the world.

“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he says with a breath held in waiting for my response.

One of my eyebrows lifts as I tilt my head in response to the slightly weird statement.

“Oh god, that came out creepier than I meant it to. What I meant to say was even when you were alive I knew who you were.” He said laying back fully down in the grass.

I watched as he covered his eyes with his hands with a frustrated grunt like he was trying to revert into a hole.

“What do you mean?”, I said moving towards his laid position to where I’m now bent over leaning towards him leaving my crisscross position to now on my knees.

I grab his hands that are covering his eyes and pull them down to his chest as I hold them to keep him from covering his eyes again. How he’s looking at me I can tell he’s debating with himself. I wait and listen before I watch as he closes his eyes.

“The first time I saw you was during your freshman year in the library. I was looking for something to watch for group movie night. I had Rhonda yelling at me in one ear and Charlie telling me something in the other. I was getting a little annoyed but then I looked between the bookshelves and there you were.” He takes a pause to look at me and I squeeze his hand in return to continue.

“You were tucked into the corner where the bookshelves meet, where no one could see you. In your hands was The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea. I watched as you cried the further you got into the book. After that day I came back to the library every day to see you. I even started picking up some of the books you read, but I couldn't finish half of them though.” He said with a small smile on his face and in his voice.

He sat up which caused him to become closer to me while he took my hands instead of me holding his. He was looking at the grass for a minute while rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. When he looked up I could see that he was tearing up making my heart ache.

“I knew you had anxiety when it came to swim class because you couldn’t swim so I’d go to try and help. Even though you couldn’t see or feel me, I was always there.” He said lifting his hand up to tuck a loose strand of my hair that fell.

His hand stayed in place as he cupped my cheek and I went to ask why he was tearing up because of this before he spoke.

“I watched you die. I was there and I couldn’t do anything until it was too late, that’s why I was there. I had to watch you struggle knowing I couldn’t grab you or even scream for help.” He said with his voice croaking with the struggle of what he’s had to go through.

My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the walls I built up crumble down with one look at him. I never knew he’d been holding in something like this for so long. If I had known I would’ve never tried to shut him out. I was scared of what had happened and how my life had ended but I never thought about him. He was always there and whenever I needed help he was right by my side. I moved from my position pulling him into a soul-crushing hug. It took him a second to respond to the sudden gesture but after a couple seconds, I felt his arms wrap around me.

“Wally my death wasn’t your fault, I need you to know that.”, I softly spoke while hugging him harder, feeling him return it.

We continued hugging for what felt like years but could never be enough for me to be satisfied. One of my arms is coming up from under his arm grappling his shoulder while the other is around his waist. His arms are wrapped around my waist and I can feel his hands rubbing small circles on my back. Looking up from being tucked away in his shoulder I notice the sun is beginning to set. I begin to pull away and when I make eye contact with him again he’s only a mere few inches away from my face. I raise my hand to brush his hair away from his face as it has flattened from the hug. My hand slips down as it trails from the side of his head to where it now rests on his neck. He’s staring at me the whole time while I do this and when I look up to meet his eyes my heart quickens. Well, I imagined it quickened. There’s something about those brown eyes I’ve grown fond of that makes me feel alive again. His eyes flash down to my lips and back up to my eyes like he’s silently pleading. I give into his wants that now become a need for me and all I can do is nod. His hand comes up to my face pulling me towards him as our lips meet. The kiss felt like everything in my little life led up to this moment. Nothing else seemed to matter to me but the boy in front of me right now who just confessed that he’d been watching me for years. Wally’s the one to pull away first. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him wanting to capture this moment forever. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek and giving me a quick peck. I can’t restrain my gleaming smile as he pulls away for the second time.

“Well I’m glad we got that cleared up”, he laughed as he spoke.

I glared at him while punching him in the arm causing him to fall back but not before dragging me down with him. I land on his chest relaxing in his touch like it’s something I've been craving but have been deprived of. We lay in comfortable silence as I felt Wally rub circles with his thumb on my hip.

“I’m glad it was you who found me. I don't know what I would’ve done” I said, being the first one to disturb the still air.

“I am too,” Wally said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head.

We lay there all night even when the stadium lights came on we just talked about everything and anything. Maybe the afterlife won’t completely suck.

#fanfic #wally clark #wally clark x reader #school spirits #television #x yn #Wally Clark fluff #milo manheim #wally clark imagines

657 notes · View notes

adyophene · 2 months

Note

lucifer x husk is something i never knew i needed and as a multishipper im screaming

literally. king of hell x some alcoholic furry guy

i love them i need to know how they wouldve met, fallen for each other and started dating. and how much thatd piss alastor off

Ooh I am so happy other people are enjoying this pair as much as I am! I've gotten a few asks about my headcanons for them, and I am happy to blab on and on. Fair warning. This is gunna be a long and rambling essay.

I'm gunna put it all under a readmore, just cause I want to insert the art I've done of them so far, since I've been half-heartedly trying to tell a visual story through the doodles.

Okay. On we go!

How they met;

We did see them technically meet in the show, where they shared their singular canon piece of dialogue, which was just Husk saying 'hey'. And then in the finale where we see a literal split second moment of Lucifer holding Husk's arm.

(also seeing the sweet looks huskerdust is giving each other here just makes me feel so delulu for writing this all, but crackships are silly by definition, so lets get back to the lucihusk) For me, what I imagined, is after the Hotel is finished its rebuilding, that is when Husk and Lucifer finally actually meet in a proper manner. I think Lucifer would be trying to make a good impression on all Charlie's friends at this point, endeared to all of them from their actions during the finale. Unfortunately, I think he is also the King of Bad First Impressions.

[Note. I think at this point Lucifer wouldn't even remember Husk's name quite yet. I think he would call him 'Keekee' ( by accident) or 'Dusk' (confidently incorrect) or just be like "Hey!.... Uh... You?" until Charlie or Vaggie finally corrected him. ]

Husk, on the other hand, I feel like maybe wouldn't gel with Lucifer right away. Wouldn't hate him, but also maybe not be enamored with him right away. Same as Lucifer, maybe he would have sweetened on him a bit through the hotel's rebuilding, but I think they'd start out at very neutral feelings. Maybe a vague sense of 'He's okay, but I don't know if we will really get along.'

Despite this, Lucifer is persistent, and he's going to be everyone's (except maybe Al, unless they start getting along by s2) buddy. He'd start hanging around the bar and participate in the redemption exercises.

Now, we know Lucifer struggles with depression, and I think he would be trying real hard to mask anything going on during this time. They defeated Adam! They rebuilt the Hotel! He believes in Charlie's dream, and he's more involved with her life and other people than he has been for years.

His only issue being Husk sees right through it, both because Husk is perceptive, but also because even the King of Hell can't help but have a lonely night or two at the bar where he ends up venting about his divorce and subsequent lingering loneliness.

[snapcube ref aside, )I really do think Husk would start to feel more positively toward Lucifer after Luci would drop the act somewhat. That they could bond over feeling both at their lowest of lows, while also being to admit that things seem to be getting better!

This would be about the point that I imagine Lucifer developing more romantic feelings! Husk would be a bit less prickly, and Luci would just absolutely eat up any and all positive interactions they'd have. I like to picture a lot of little shows of care at the this point, like Husk memorizing what Lucifer likes and even making up 'fun' drinks just to try and cheer the guy up. And Lucifer would fun a fun game in trying to get the grumpy cat to smile, and just, lighting up himself any time he was successful.

And that culminating into the two of them making each other laugh, with Alastor being an easy butt of the jokes, and a good way for Husk, himself, to finally get a chance to vent. I think Lucifer would be one of the only 'safe' options for Husk to do that with, in just so far as Al can't really threaten Lucifer, and Lucifer already sees Al as a bit of a manipulative bastard.

Falling for each other; At this point, Lucifer would start being a bit more caring toward Husk, though with that wonderful, oblivious flair of his. I don't think Lucifer himself would realize he'd have a crush up until he'd start feeling protective or jealous over Husk, and it would really throw him for a loop at first.

Because fake dating is one of my all-time favorite tropes, I have always had a idea for a fanfic (or comic) that I haven't gotten around to yet, based around Lilith coming back, and Lucifer panickily asking Husk to pretend to be his boyfriend, so he can appear well adjusted/completely over her. Of course the whole thing would backfire, as Lilith would see through it (as Lucifer wouldn't be as good of an actor as he'd think), and that Husk would end up kind of feeling hurt by the whole thing.

Husk, who'd go along with the plot with an eyeroll, would find himself seizing up through the whole fake date/encounter. Would find weird, sudden emotions bubbling up and absolutely hating it.

I don't think that man would think about the class difference between him and Lucifer up until someone would say something about it, maybe Lucifer himself trying to rationalize the (at this time still fake) relationship to Lilith. Now, Husk feels uneasy about the whole thing and ends up drinking heavily the whole night so he doesn't have to think about feelings. (Blitz and Stolas who? Ahaha. fuck.) Meanwhile, while the date would be fake, I think Lucifer would really rather like having Husk on his arm and feeling like he'd have a love-life again, while also not really getting why Husk's mood would be getting worse throughout the night. I think they'd still end up on good terms, but both of them would have their feelings in a jumble, and Husk would not like it. (he thinks he's lost the ability to love, after all)

I think somewhere at this point, as they are starting to develop feelings for one another, is when Lucifer finally starts really realizing how tied to Alastor Husk is, and he starts to make it everyone's problem. I do think Al and Lucifer would stay snarky at each other this whole time, but that it'd only get worse, as Al would poke back since he'd find Lu's over reactions funny.

I also think Al would be maybe the last person to realize anything romantic would be brewing between Lucifer and Husk, and he'd just think it'd be a purely platonic thing.

Beyond just bitching about Alastor, Lucifer would really be ramping up his attention towards Husk too. Fully in that 'puppylove/crush' stage, and trying his darndest to make Husk feel good and special. Husk would be resistant to it all, thinking it would just be Lucifer rebounding hard, and not wanting to get wrapped up in Morningstar family drama when he could happily (miserably) keep his head down and just keep drinking the days away.

But then Lucifer would find out about Husk's love of stage magic, and his history as a performer, and it'd be all over for the catman. It would become Luci's new pet project to rope Husk into some joyful self-expression, and after a song and dance number's worth of convincing, Husk would start to come around. I have to post all these images now cause- I drew them with the intention of mimicking a musical number! Husk starting off as a bit resistant before jumping in whole heartedly, and Lucifer overexcitedly dragging him along throughout the music number, hyping him up and just all around being smitten.

And this is where Husk would start really falling. Getting swept up in indulging his favorite, least destructive hobby, and having someone who absolutely loves it to bond with. Especially when it would be over. When they would just settle down and talk, and laugh, and bond over what they love about performing. The spectacle, the audience, the love of the craft. Its about the comradery!!!

@belladonazeppole wrote a wonderful series of fanfics based off these pictures, as well as the songs from 'The Greatest Showman' that really fit the ship! I would be remiss to not mention them here, because Bella and their fics are just wonderful!

How they started dating;

Now. Don't think just cause they both caught feelings for each other, that they'd immediately admit to it. No. I think both of them would drag their heels. I don't think Husk would admit to them at all, without some outside force effecting it. I think he'd stubbornly try to ignore the crush or drink it away, rather than let his heart become vulnerable to anymore damage.

Meanwhile, Lucifer would be struggling between his feelings for Husk and Lilith. (In the actual canon, I do think they might try to rekindle things, depending on what kind of person Lilith turns out to be, but I digress.) Part of him would be so swept up in a giddy kind of excitement, while the other would be set firmly in the camp of 'this is a bad idea, this won't work out, just look at what happened to your last relationship'. It wouldn't stop him from being outwardly more and more affectionate, but it would be weighing on him.

I do think Lucifer would end up being the one who would be thinking; "What am I doing. He'd never like me back." While Husk would be just sitting there (echoing what was said in the ask- sorry I went all wild and wrote this much about the ship dear god)- "I'm just some fucking furry alcoholic, what the fuck would the king of hell see in me??? Am I delusional? What the fuck is going on??" And I feel like this stage would go on for MONTHS and drive everyone else nuts. It would be clear to everyone (except Alastor, who again, would be just this meme

Though that wouldn't stop him from getting a little pissy about it) And then it would all come to a head during something benign, like a board game night. There would be flirting, there would be jealousy, there would be arguing, and then finally, loudly and with a lot of feeling, Lucifer would shout his way through asking Husk out on a date. A real Date. A capital 'D' date out on the town, dressed to the nines and a real good time. The board would be knocked over in the fray, game pieces raining down upon them while Husk would just stare blank faced, trying to process what just happened. An awkward half-minute would pass before he'd finally, trying to play it cool, shrug out a 'sure'.

How much it'd piss Alastor off;

In the aftermath, a radio static would just lowly grate everyone's ears as Alastor would be slowly coming to terms on how just annoying it would be to have his friend (/Unhealthy co-dependent pet friend possession??) romantically involved (ew) with the King of Hell (double ew)??? Then, either it would be something light hearted like 'he keeps trying to break them up but failing cause he hates interacting with romance' or a darker route where 'he keeps trying to manipulate them into breaking up by preying on all their worst insecurities in the relationship'.

And that, my friend, is all I have in mind so far for this delusional crackship au! There is more I could flesh out, of course, like Angel's role as a friend or potential third in the relationship, or what I imagine as Husk becoming like a stepdad to Charlie, but I've typed enough for the whole month. Hope any of that was coherent! I did not bother to edit or proof read it. Just pure stream of consciousness.

#not art #this is long #like really long #like don't open it unless you want 25 paragraphs about a crackship that like 12 people ship #royalflush #lucihusk

309 notes · View notes

moooncats · 4 months

Text

✿ Pick A Card ✿

✿ What Does Your Inner Child Think Of You? ✿

•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•

•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○

✿ Pile 1 : Imagination , Chakra Clearing. ✿

Wow! This Pile so far is one of my favorites right off the back. Like seriously I RARELY ever pull out this elusive card and right off the bat.... blam! Haha what incredible energy we have here. So I'm hearing that your inner child is so stinking happy of the person that you've become. They love how you revel in the wondrous, mysterious, most beauteous power of your imagination, and let it whisk you away on a right-brained roomp through all things nonsensical, Suess plays Wonka style. To them, you're an off road adventurer, playing in the upside- down, glow-in-the-dark woods of posibility. There is no "no" here. Only "whoa!". And "flow". And "Holy moly, here we go!". (Hmmm maybe there was something in your brownies? c; ). Your inner child feels heard from you and is attentively hanging out with you feeling affirmed by every journey you set out to. I'm hearing "Your the best friend I could ever ask for." Omg pile 1 this is so effing sweet like seriously, they think you're such a cool, magical person. They wouldn't have it any other way! (:

✿ Advice From Your Inner Child ✿

Chakra Cleansing: Archangel Metatron: "Call upon me to clear and open your chakra's, using sacred geometric shapes. Your inner child want's to make sure that you are taking care of yourself and not over extending your energy ♡. Please make sure to cleanse your aura every once in a while. You can take a bath with essential oils, sage/paulo santo's your body and area, or do a salt water cleanse in a lake or beach. The water can be very cleansing and healing. As a native from Hawaii the beach would be my go to cleanse preference. (✿◠‿◠) 🌊

•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○

✿ Pile 2 : Open Heartedness , Prioritize ✿

Wow pile 2 lemme give you a hug okay? 🫂 Seriously, you have been through some stuff. I'm picking up on heavy energy here. Your inner child is amazed at how unjaded you are. They have seen you go through some people who were absolute bummers. Did that experience make you salty in any way? Heck no. They see you as a strong warriror who always chooses to not let unhappy chapters make you into a monster. They appreciate that so much. If you let negative experiences turn you sour, then the jerks and bully's win. So you move on with an open and hopeful heart, if only because you hate losing to jerks. Pile 2 you are winners. 🏆💗 You kill people with kindness and don't let their bad energies mix in with your pure and thoughtful heart. Your inner child is so sweet, they tell me that they give you hugs and love that you are the person they have become. I'm hearing "We are misunderstood and not everyone will get us, but our hearts are always pure".

✿ Advice From Your Inner Child ✿

Prioritize: Archangel Metatron : "Focus on your highest priorities. I will help you get orginized and motivated". Pile 2, your inner child is amazed at how many ideas that you get from time to time. However, they want you to manifest your thoughts from the 4D and materialize them into the 3D. Proper planning and prioritzing will help you with that. Take out a sheet of paper, and start writing your goals, plans, anything that has to do with your future. They want to make sure that you at least have them written, so you can start "scripting" your dream life. If you don't know what scripting is, it's a form of manifestation that helps you with your ideal dream life. Try it out, it's free and does wonders. Your inner child wants to help you realize your power. I'm hearing your quite popular in the dream realm, you may have astral traveled before or have been looking into it. This is your sign to continue on that path. Congratulations pile 2! This is so far the longest pile that I've done so far. So many messages! ʕ￫ᴥ￩ʔ ♡

•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○

✿ Pile 3 : Honouring Ideas , Clear Intentions ✿

Interesting indeed. This pile I'm hearing unlike pile 2, you are the type to go for your goals. Your Inner child is quite impressed with you! They love how many silly, serious, & whack a doodle ideas you come up with! Lmao, I'm hearing a specific scenario for every event in your life. What an amazing brain you have. This is my pile who always has their head stuck in a book, ears listening to a podcast, and an head full of wonder and ideas. When an idea comes to you, you honor it by doing your best to bringing it into being. You are a master manifestor. Ideas to you, are like children, and you proudly nuture them, knowing they'll grow and develop, and eventually make their way out into the world without ever really acknowledging how much time/money/love you shelled out for them. This is my piles who may be entrepreneurs. Seriously keep that ish up, you are definitely trend setters! Your inner child loves how smart and buisness minded you are. They are definitely proud of the person that you are and have become. (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ♡

✿ Advice From Your Inner Child ✿

Crystal Clear Intentions: Archangel Michael : "Be clear about what you desire, and focus on in with unwavering faith". Pile 3, I'm hearing that any idea you have will be brought into fruition. How lucky! The gods are definitely in your favor when in comes to Manifesting. Please do not stop dreaming, all your dreams will surely come true with the right intentions. 🌌☁️✨️

•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○•○

#baby witch #intuition #intuitive #pac #pick a card #tarot #tarotreading #tarotblr #tarot blog #free tarot #witchblr #inner child #inner child reading #shadowwork #moooncatstarot

362 notes · View notes

gavisuntiedboot · 10 months

Text

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 10

Warnings: SMUT!! and also BAD WRITING!! TYPOS AS WELL PROBABLY!! BUT MAINLY THE SMUT!!!

Word Count: 21.5K (Fun Fact: If you have read all of JP, that's 159 pages single space of reading.)

A/N: Here it is. The finale of my heartfelt daydream, laid bare for you all to see. I hope you've enjoyed the ride: the road ends here.

GIF: @gavidaily (i've been waiting since part 1 to use this mf gif)

Previously on Just Pretend

"Scrubs? You look too young to be a doctor." "You don't look old enough to be let into the club, but everyone is full of surprises."

"You're late. It's 6:45." "Good morning to you too, Gavira."

Gavi found himself glancing at your ass as you leaned over, before swiftly looking away. He did not like you. He had a baseline of respect for you as a young successful professional. Nothing else.

"Are we not friends, y/n?"

"I'm not sure, Gavi. We could be if you stopped hating me."

"I don't hate you. I think."

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

"'m sorry. I won't let him talk to you that way anymore."

"It's okay, Pablo. I can take care of myself." A tear finally rolled down your cheek.

"I know you can, Doctora. I know you could take on the world if you wanted to. But you shouldn't have to. You deserve to be loved and spoiled. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

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

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

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

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

"My heart, doctora. When I give it to you, please keep it. Forever."

Now...

"Miss y/l/n, due to the... historic lack of women in the club, we do not have internal policies regarding relationships between players and employees. We just use the ones that La Liga as a whole have put in place. Those are quite forgiving, in my opinion. You can enter a romantic workplace relationship as long as it is appropriately disclosed, and you cannot be terminated as a result of that relationship ending. I saw the photo of you being pulled onto the field during the final of the Supercopa. Do you mean to tell me it was not with romantic intent?"

You had never experienced more severe whiplash in your life. First, you had been reprimanded for being too close to Pablo, for showing what Xavi classified as 'favoritism', as it hurt the team dynamic. Then you had been ridiculed by staff and players for allegedly sleeping with Pablo, and had been told you could be fire for doing so even if it was a bold faced lie. And now, months later, you were being told that it was not only okay for you to be in a relationship with Pablo, but you literally couldn't lose your job if you did? Someone in the family must have been praying for you. Or for Pablo. Was Pedri religious?

"Dr. Gonzalez, I think there has been some sort of misunderstanding. Gavi and I are just friends. Not even - we're just coworkers that get along well! There was no romance happening anywhere on the field."

And it was true. Well, sort of. You couldn't speak for Gavi's intention, but you would bet that he hadn't meant to do anything that could be perceived as romantic. Not only was he incredibly shy when it came to anything to do with his private life, but moreover, you had started to toy with the idea that maybe you were wrong about Pablo. Maybe you had misread the signs. Maybe Pedri's stylist, who you now also so lovingly referred to as naranja, had only fed into your delusions instead of delivering the hard truth to you.

"He's in love with you, stupid."

That's exactly what she had said to you when you answered the question 'so are you close to Pedri?', stating that the things Pablo did for you were far from the actions of a friend. And she was right. Friends didn't need to be physically touching in order to have a peaceful night of sleep. Friends don't feel the need to always be near the other, unable to focus if one wasn't near. Friends certainly didn't imagine each other in compromising situations: shirtless, panting, trying so hard to control his throbbing- no. Friends certainly didn't imagine such scenes. Most of all, friends didn't find themselves in these intimate moments, the air thick with anticipation, where lips were centimeters from meeting, and seconds away from saying something that would change the dynamic forever. Well, at least that's what you thought. Maybe Naranja would be your friend long enough to see if these were truly just normal hallmarks of friendship (although Pedri might be a tad upset if the two of you started sleeping together). You're glad she offered her cellphone number to you.

But this was not the only opinion that was presented to you. You had been sitting on your couch one night, a rare evening when Gavi had promised to accompany Ansu to one hangout or another, his absence felt greatly. It had been weeks since you had a moment that wasn't filled by Pablo's voice, his laughter, his breathing as you completed an assignment while he scrolled through TikTok. There was an eerie silence to the house now, and you needed something to take your thoughts off of your maladaptive daydreams of Pablo laying on your couch, looking up at you through long lashes with a tender gaze. It was almost as if you could run your hands through his messed up brown locks, watching his eyes close as you massaged his scalp, feeling him lean more into your touch.That's all you wanted. Not even for Pablo to come to you with a grand confession of love, but just to be with him with no boundaries, no fear, no awkwardness. Just love and safety and the freedom to exist as you were. Together.

But there was no idle chatter or TikTok sounds to fill the silence, and so you had to do so yourself. You made yourself a delectable cup of tea, favorite mug warming your palm as you tried to balance your plate of snacks in the other. The camp nutritionists had been testing recipes all week, and had sent you home with some of the best food you had ever had, including a tupperware of cookies that could give those little Nestle birds a run for their money. Comfortable on the couch in that same black hoodie with the embroidered '6', you qued, rather ironically, He's Just Not That Into You (a great romcom, but not for people doubting if they're deserving of being loved). Your phone had lit up with a familiar name that you hadn't seen in months now.

"Angelika! How are you? How was fashion week? I saw the collection on Instagram. It looked stunning!"

Since her announcement about moving to Paris, you hadn't heard a peep from your 'best friend'. A mutual friend you ran into at the market had told you her move had been delayed until after the collection had shown at fashion week since the creative director had surprisingly quit, so everything was on ice until he was replaced. You had seen her collection on Diet Prada, not questioning why you hadn't seen the posts that she had made celebrating her work.

"Oh it was fabulous, and Alessandro just got replaced so Paris must be coming soon. I would have invited you, but I only got 6 invitations, and you're always so busy. Didn't want to have an empty seat."

She knew she had made a mistake when she saw your face on the screen drop. You had been the main supporter of Ang's career since you met her, and yet she didn't even bother sending you an invitation or seeing if you might be able to attend.

"Anyway, how have you been? What's new with you?"

You spoke briefly about school and work, before taking a deep breath and opening up the gnarly can of worms that was you and Gavi's current situation. You had no other people with enough context or who you felt comfortable enough with to reveal all your thoughts on the matter. All your hopes and dreams that he would sweep you off your feet. All your insecurities and fears that you had created something unhealthy, something that would dissolve into worse than nothing. No matter how you spun it, it was nice to have a friend, even if you had to ignore that you were walking a mile to see an inch in return.

Angelika listened rather silently to the entire series of events, asking one or two clarifying questions, but for the most part allowing you to monologue. When you finished speaking, you sighed rather dreamily and fell back into your couch, pulling your (Gavi's) hoodie closer around you. Sometime you forgot how much he had bulked up, until you were drowning in the shirts he had donated to you. Maybe there was something there. Now that Dr. G had confessed he thought you two were already in a relationship, the only missing piece was Pablo. You had tried to hint to him that, if he felt even the slightest affection towards you, he should go for it. Make the shot. The goal was empty - hell, the goalie would even guide the ball in for him. Had you been too subtle with your affections? Or had he purposefully ignored the brush of your lips on his throat in order to preserve your pride?

“Don’t you think you’re being a little bit delusional?”

Angelika’s statement was like a splash of ice water on your warm and fuzzy form. You looked at the FaceTime call like the woman on the screen in front of you had grown horns from her head.

“I’m … what?”

“Delusional. I mean it seems like you’re reading too much into his actions. So he what? Used you as his driver and let you keep a hoodie he got from the staff for free? Nothing super special.”

“But… but it wasn’t just that. He-“ She hadn’t even let you finish your sentence, not so subtly rolling her eyes, like she was so utterly bored with your story.

“Yeah, yeah, he punched your ex boyfriend who cheated on you. But I mean, cmon, you like, refused to fuck him. This is the second guy to cheat on you. Maybe it’s you, ha. And Gavi is literally just a raging teenager who has been looking to hit someone. I don’t think you should fly into your princess fantasies because he he finally lost his shit. And now you’re sleeping next to him every night and he’s waiting for you to give him some pussy. Better melt up quick, ice princess, before he gets tired of waiting.”

There it was again. The nausea. The head pounding. The vision blurring and room spinning. The sinking feeling that you were being betrayed by someone you had let in again. If you squinted your eyes a little, she might have even slightly resembled Martin.

“You… think he’s only being nice to me so that I’ll sleep with him?” You asked, voice soft and slow to hide the shake desperately wanting to emerge.

“Oh, absolutely. It’s not like there’s much else there. Now you look upset, but don’t be. I’m just telling you the truth so you don’t get hurt.”

“No, you’re just being a bitch.”

Your response seemed to have caught the both of you off guard. Your face had gone red with frustration, hands trembling with rage that you were desperately trying to quell. What a funny thing, rage. Feminine rage to be exact. The rage of men is common place in society - sort of like bullets. Everyone has heard a gunshot or seen what a bullet can do, in their personal life or on a screen. Male rage and fury is a normal part of life that everyone expects and respects. People bite their tongues hard enough to draw blood before they dare lash out at a man, fearful of sharp words and blunt fists. But feminine rage wasn’t a real threat. Oh no, it was more of a concept. A black and red Pinterest aesthetic in red and black, with pinups and devil horns and swirling script. It was only a danger to the self; a threat of implosion with no shrapnel to hit anyone else. A star dying, a mind shattering, as entertainment to those around. There was never an expectation for her to lash out and defend herself against those who poked at her until she bled. But should a cornered lioness cower in fear rather than attacking?

“What… what the hell is wrong with you?”

“No, what the hell is wrong with you, Angelika? All I’ve done since the day I met you is try and be there for you. All I’ve done is support you through everything - relationships, family drama, you’re entire fucking career! You had professors tell you that you would be a generic designer for H&M, and I was there for you. I was the only person with you at three in the fucking morning telling you that you could do better, that you could be amazing. I was a pincushion, a mannequin, a personal chauffeur to the fabric store. And I didn’t ever do these things because I wanted something in return. I genuinely cared about you and just wanted to see my closest friend succeed! But you couldn’t even pretend to care about this obviously one-sided relationship. All I ever was to you was a person to use when you needed and thrown away when you didn’t. I was preparing for my dream interview, my biggest career goal since I was a fucking child, and not only did you ‘forget’ to give me one word of encouragement, you asked me to be your fucking ride home! And you know what? I made my peace with it. I came to terms with the fact that you thought I was incompetent at my job because everyone seems to think I’m a physio ditz. But for you to call me the nickname people called me in college to objectify me, and then say all I’m worthy of is sex?!”

Angelika was now teary eyed and red in the face. She was shaking her head, unable to respond, acting like the spitting image of a deer caught in the headlights. She was now stumbling over her words, unable to string a complete sentence together.

“That’s … thats not true I didn’t say that.”

“No, that’s exactly what you just said. Don’t be a liar on top of being a shit person. You just said it was my fault I got cheated on by my last two partners. And now I’ve still decided to give you the benefit of the doubt after you straight up admitted to me that you didn’t think of me as one of the top six people in your happy moments. I’ve poured my heart out to you and you don’t even have the decency to lie! You either said that to purposefully hurt me, or you never cared enough to listen when I spoke. Either way, you’re just the last in a long line of people who I have let walk all over me.”

Your expression was steeled and icy. You hadn’t even raised your voice once during the entire exchange, remaining calm and level headed despite the deep cuts you had made in Angelika’s self-confidence. Your lips were downturned and brows knitted together, looking at her with all the loathing she had caused you to feel for yourself. It was hard to be alone, but it was better than being surrounded with people who convinced you that you would never be enough if you didn’t fit their mold. The girl on the other side of the FaceTime call was clearly experiencing every stage of grief all at once, unsure how to respond. She had gotten through the denial, and was knee-deep in the anger. But anger did not spark eloquence, sparking the simple response of,

“Fuck you. You can go to hell.”

And you could swear you saw genuine fear in her eyes as a bright, beaming smile spread across your face. Maybe you had never seen love, but you had seen friendship. You had seen that there were people ready to carry your entire world on their shoulders. And no matter how slowly, you were working to believe that you could be loved, even by yourself. The rage had evaporated and recrystallized as content. So you smiled sickeningly sweetly at Angelika, and gave her a heartfelt response.

“I’ll see you there, darling.”

Pressing the bright red button to end the call was one of the most satisfying things you had ever done in your life. The headache and nausea and ‘I want to die’ feeling that you usually had after a confrontation was nowhere to be found. Quite the opposite, actually. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Your entire chest felt like it had more room for air. Was this what every day was like for people without anxiety? How glorious. Pressing play on Gennifer Goodwyne’s best work, you made a mental note to speak to a therapist the following morning. This felt amazing. You were genuinely smiling at… what exactly? The loss of a friend? No, no - liberation from someone’s foot on your neck. What new and exciting things could you do with this new found freedom, this fresh lease on life? Naturally, you did your favorite activity: picking up the phone and texting Gavi.

Gone were the days of Pablo wracking his brain for any excuse to email, text, or call you. It was almost funny how much he had to talk himself up, looking at his reflection and reiterating how much of a 'cool, suave guy' he was before typing out a very intelligent and eloquent 'hi'. Watching a series that he had no interest in initially just to have something to talk to you about that wasn't one of his leg muscles (no interest initially - now he was patiently waiting 4-6 weeks for his neon sign in the shape of the House Stark sigil). Now it was you who couldn't leave Gavi alone, using your messages to him as a pseudo journal, spewing your entire stream of consciousness into little blue bubbles.

[You]: PABLO

[You]: YOULL NEVER GUESS WHAT I JUST DID

Locking your phone and resting it on your chest, you refocused on the chick flick illuminating the darkness of your living room, the device vibrating against you less than 30 seconds later. As much as you would like to pretend it was surprising to receive a response so quickly, this was the normal routine the two of you had created. One needed merely call out, and the other would come running.

[Pablito]: whoever u killed they better be small

[Pablito]: bcs pedri doesnt have a lot of space fr bodies in his car

There it was again: the giggling, the lip bite, the stupid half smile that made you look less like Cindy Crawford and more like the Grinch after Christmas was destroyed. But it was the natural way your body reacted to Pablo - like a schoolgirl with a crush on a boyband member in a brightly-colored magazine. Lord, how were you supposed to be normal around him? Oh how wonderful it would be to have even one inkling that Pablo reacted this way when he heard from you. But in your head, he was still Pablo Gavi with capital letters, who was standing ever so coolly with a beer in hand as he laughed with his other hot rich young athlete friends. You could never picture him as he truly was, shy and puppy-like, beer not even touched as he held his phone in one hand and twirling his hoodie string in the other. He bit down on his lip as well, eyebrows together as he waited for a response. Despite the relationship that had grown for the last six months, he still held his breath slightly when he saw the three little 'typing' dots float on his screen.

[Doctora]: i don't think i can convey the full force over text

[Doctora]: i can come over and explain it to you in person tho

"Guys, I think I need to leave." Pablo said abruptly, looking up at the group of boys, causing a record-scratch moment that abruptly ended the conversation. The heated conversation over whether the Drake curse was real had screeched to a halt, and now all four of the young Barca players were staring in disbelief.

"You haven't even been here for an hour. Where the hell could you need to be right now?" It was Alejandro who spoke up, the only one of the four who was not acutely aware of the fact that Gavi was borderline prepared to give up his entire career for you. He only had a mild inkling.

"Um... one of my friends is coming to my house and I'm going to meet them.''

"Who? We know all your friends. Who is coming over?" Ale asked, draping an arm over fellow La Masia baby Ansu, who smirked at the Sevillano as well.

"Yes, Pablito. Who is it? Ilias?" Ansu asked, obviously enjoying the bright red that seeped into Gavi's face.

"Or maybe Alvaro?" Ale seemed to be enjoying this too much, smiling brightly as Pedri tried to sip his beer without suffocating due to laughter.

"If it's one of the boys, then maybe we should come with you! Beers from the convenience store are cheaper anyways."

Pablo was sweating bullets. How could he say that he wanted to run home to hear what might possibly be the most mundane story about keeping houseplants alive?

"No, no it's... someone from back home. You guys wouldn't know her-HIM! You wouldn't know him." That may have been the worst save Pablo had ever made in his life, including the time his friends made his 5'0 self play keeper in a pick up match. Pedri finally lost the battle and spit out his beer, laughing loudly with the rest of the boys.

"Bro, why can't you just admit your massive crush on the doctor already. It's honestly getting a little tiring at this point. You've been in love with her for like three months now-" Ansu started, moving towards Gavi and clapping him on the shoulder before being interrupted by Pedri, who corrected,

"More like six months actually."

"Ah! There is no way!" Now Pablo was being ping-ponged between his two school friends, trying to keep himself from imploding from embarrassment.

"Why haven't you told her yet? Seriously now." Ale asked, pulling up a chair for himself and Pablo, the group sitting back down, conversation topic having changed into something juicier.

"You forget that he like stopped hating her and then she directly got a boyfriend, right?" Pedri said, signalling for another round of stellas to be brought over to the table.

"I don't think we should order another round. I was going to-" Pablo started, trying to nervously get up. Would he be able to find a taxi? Or should he just order an Uber? Neither possibility was explored as Pedri stuck his arm out and pushed him back into his seat, where he was now firmly locked in.

"Spill your guts. The quicker you talk, the quicker you can tell her to come over. I'll drive you home."

"Should you really be driving if you're going to be drinking?" Pablo asked cautiously as the four beers were placed on the table.

"oh, no, I'm done for the night. Two are for Ale and Ansu, and the other two are for you. For, ya know, confidence."

[Pablito]: u wnna met me at my hosue in an hours

The six minute pause between the 'Read' notification and the response from Pablo had worried you slightly. It was just enough time for the anxiety to seep into your bones. Did he find your desire to see him overwhelming and (God-forbid) clingy? Was he showing the message to Pedri & Co., laughing at your desperation? The misspelling made you even more worried. The spiral of thoughts was taking a sharp turn in the downwards direction. Was he even looking at his phone while typing? You didn't want to be a burden to him during one of the rare nights he could enjoy himself.

[Doctora]: are you sure? i don't have to come over if you're busy

"See now she doesn't want to come." Pablo said, now two beers deep with one more to go so that Pedri would let him leave.

"You're so stupid, Pablo. She wants you to want her to come over." Ansu said frustratedly. Pablo was trying to say as quickly as possible in between gulps what was stopping him from confessing his feelings to you. It had gone along the lines of,

"Well, first I thought I hated her, then I realized I was attracted to her as soon as she got an awful boyfriend, then we became like friends, I guess? Then I just kind of never wanted to ever be away from her. I had a hard time picturing a future that she wasn't a part of. Like, it started to make me have this weird aching feeling in my chest. And now I want to tell her all of this but she like, sees me as a friend and has had a shit time with her male friends and I don't want to permanently traumatize someone I love."

There was definitely more beer spit into the air and on the floor than there was in anyone's mouth.

"What did you just say?!" His too schoolmates echoed loudly, while Pedri just stared at him in a shocked state.

Pablo's brain was swimming in beer bubbles, unable to connect any dots and make intelligent, let alone sit and explain the process and intricacies of figuring out that he was, in fact, in love with you. So he ignored the question, asking rather for advice as to how he could get you to come over to his house.

"I don't think she needs that much convincing, seeing as you guys literally sleep beside each other for the majority of the week."

"Pedri, please. Enough details. You're just going to sit here and casually tell us the doctor has been in Pablito's bed repeatedly and he has yet to ask her on a date? I might collapse if I hear another shocking piece of information." Ale exclaimed, one hand over his heart as he leaned over, Ansu above him in what appeared to be genuine distress for his cardiac health.

"Pablo," Pedri started, sitting up in his seat and placing his elbows on his shoulders, obviously meaning business. "Now it's time to exercise that one petite little romantic muscle in your body."

"Isn't every muscle in his body petite?" Ansu braced himself for the punch in the arm that he received, but it was softer than previous attacks. Maybe the alcohol was really hitting him.

"Does it bother you that she asked to come over?"

"No!" Pablo responded quicker than his teammates thought possible. "I always want her to come over. She doesn't even need to ask. I would give her a key to the place if she wanted. Hell, I would sign the house over in her name. Do you think I could ask her to move in with me as friends?" His foggy brain registered the laughter, but didn't quite understand it. He would love for you to be in his house, walking through the door with you every evening, eating on the couch, fighting over the comforter and cuddling in the cold.

"See now that's... kind of a lot for a girl who doesn't know you have feelings for her. Which is a whole separate issue of oblivion that we can address later. Let's edit it down. Hand me your phone."

[Pablito]: never too busy for you. see you in an hour ;)

You stared at the wink on your screen with wide eyes. Had Pablo's phone been hacked? He had sent emojis before, but usually when he was making a cheesy joke or mocking someone else. This was ... well you actually couldn't say. Calling this behavior 'weird' would really make everything you two did, like cuddling and sleeping over and trauma-dumping, seem 'weird' as well. The only time he had ever been so outwardly flirty with you was when...

[Doctora]: Pablo are you drunk?

[Doctora]: I'm coming over to kick ur ass

"I think I got you in trouble." Pedri said, sheepishly handing back the device. Pablo groaned, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol more strongly, head spinning and stomach churning at the thought of getting scolded by you. But something in him also burned at the idea of you getting worried about him when you weren't being paid for it.

"Alright boys, let's head out so Romeo can get back to the castle on time." Pedri ushered the three tipsy boys to the car, Ansu and Ale hunched over and giggling in the back, and Pablo slumped with a cheek pressed up against the passenger window.

"Wait! I just thought of something really important!" Ale practically yelled, leaning against the car in front of his place, Ansu waiting by the door to be let in for their own sleepover and gossip session (which may become a breakfast and gossip session given their current state).

"If the doctor tries to kiss him, will Pablo have to get on his tiptoes?"

The uproar of laughter was so loud it could be categorized as a public disturbance. Ale stood, mind foggy but genuine, watching Pedri clutch both the steering wheel and his ribs. Ansu was worse for wear, falling to his knees and gripping the sidewalk for dear life, all while Pablo gripped his head in pain and embarrassment.

"Ale, please, please open the door. I'm going to piss myself laughing from the mental image. Please, Ale."

"I'm actually taller than she is, just for everyone's information." The rebuttal was coupled with crossed arms and a pout.

"With or without shoes?" Ale's follow-up question set off another round of rambunctious laughter. Pablo was now properly tipsy and overly sensitive, and was ready to go home. Ale finally let go of the coop, preventing Ansu's public urination, and Pedri could finally make his way to Pablo's place. The green vehicle pulled into the driveway, and you followed just minutes later.

"Pedri, I'm worried."

The Canarian stared at the boy beside him. That's still what Pablo was. At his young age, he was bearing the back-breaking pressure of being the best right out of the gate, and soul-crushing weight of being in love. It was more than Pedri knew himself and many of his friends able to withstand. And though he understood the sentiment clearly, he asked anyways.

"What're you worried about?"

Pablo was many thing when he had a few drinks. He was noticeably louder, more vibrant and talkative. His usual shy self loosened up, and he was much more vulnerable. He did whatever he felt like: danced, flirted with women, made bets - anything he could imagine that would make him feel alive before the liquid courage wore off and he was back to silencing the bickering voices in his head.

"I'm worried that I'm going to say something stupid and scare her off."

"Ignore what people say online, hermano. You're not actually that scary." The giggle in return allowed Pedri to breathe a little easier. He tried to push away the twinge of guilt that reminded him he had been the one to pressure Pablo to drink, and he had been the one shoving this relationship forward at a faster pace than the participants may have liked.

"No I mean... even if the 1 in a million occurs and she gives me a chance, what if I come on too strong and kill it instantly? Can you come with me?" The request and the puppy-dog look both worked to catch Pedri off guard.

"Come with you to hang out with your girl?"

"You don't have to sit with us. You can fire up the PS5 and do whatever you want. But I won't tell her I want to grow old with her like the couple in The Notebook if you're in the house."

"You want to live out the plot of The Notebook with the doctora?"

"How did you know that?" Pablo asked with wide eyes, fully convinced that the older had read his mind.

"You just told me! How much alcohol did you actually have?" Pedri was now concerned. Could he not count? Pablo had only had three beers. He didn't remember him being such a lightweight, but it probably would explain a lot.

"Ugh, see! Pedri please, I need you. Just come with me!"

Before Pedri could protest again, a small knock was heard on Pablo's window, causing both the Barca boys to jump slightly.

"Ugh, fine. But only because your gameshock controller has never been thrown into a wall."

As the two stepped out of the car, your nose was instantly assaulted with the scent of alcohol and smoke. Pablo looked at you with a red face and slightly unfocused eyes.

"Doctora! Hey!" As he moved in to give you a hug, you stepped back from him, covering your nose with the sleeve of your (Gavi's) hoodie. You looked harshly at the boys, glare flipping between the two boys.

"I can't believe you asked me to come here while you're wasted. And you! What the hell do you think you're doing driving drunk?" You yelled, and Pedri ran forward to prevent the neighbors from hearing your misconception.

"I'm not drunk! I had one beer and waited more than an hour before driving. Pablo had three beers. We smell like shit because a waitress spilled a tray full of shots at the table. Let's continue arguing inside."

You looked at them skeptically, trying to find a smidge of deceit in either of their faces. Pablo approached you and draped an arm around your shoulder. Pressed up against you, it seemed like the smell of liquor dissipated, replaced by the last traces of his cologne and his own signature scent. Leaning down slightly, his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, sending shockwaves throughout your nervous system.

"Come on, Doctora. You know I'd never lie to you. Come inside now. I need to get in the shower."

Speechless and wide-eyed, you were helpless to do anything but nod your head and be lead back inside the house that you had come to know so well.

"I'm going to get in the shower. I think it will help me sober up a bit. And help me stop smelling like Kettle One."

"Oh."

"Don't seem so disappointed, Doctora. I'll only be gone for five minutes. You can wait for me on the balcony; you won't even miss me. Or if you really can't be without me for a single moment, I have a very large shower."

You had stared at Gavi in shock for the umpteenth time that evening, unable to process how he was being so... unadulterated with you. It reminded you of that very first night in the club, when he had stared you up and down and commended Angel on his ability to pick girls.

"Wait you have a balcony?"

That's what lead to your current situation: sitting with your knees pressed to your chest, breathing in the early April Catalan air, and staring at the beautiful view from the window. The street was illuminated in a soft yellow glow, people roaming with hands held and laughs exchanged. The moon was full, shining its beauty down onto the street, painting everything a soft silver color that contrasted with the hazes of gold. It was one of those moments you wish you could trap between plates of glass and visit at a moment's notice. One of those moments that reminded you how far you had come. That dream, that life you had worked, cried, and prayed for - you were in it right now.

The glass door slid open behind you, ending the trance as Pablo stepped out with more blankets over one arm and two mugs in hand. You took them from him, hands warmed as he draped a blue and red blanket (his favorite, unbeknownst to you) around your shoulders. He wrapped himself in a pale yellow one and took his seat next to you, legs also by his chest as he retrieved his steaming mug. Taking a sip, the thick liquid coated your tongue, sweet and rich and reminiscent of childhood.

"So you can't even boil an egg correctly, but you know how to make perfect Chocolate Caliente while tipsy? How does that make any sense?"

Turning to you, he took a pause. The wind gently pushed your hair back, allowing the moonlight to fully illuminate your eyes, and his already hazy mind struggled not to just let himself drown in them. He was beginning to sober up, but it was nowhere near how he wanted to be in your presence.

"It was my favorite breakfast as a kid. My dad used to take Aurora and I to have them for breakfast on the weekends. When I came to Barcelona, I didn't really have anyone to take care of me like that anymore, so I learned to make it myself." Pablo hadn't meant for this to be a sad story, but apparently his tone came across as such, demonstrated by your scooching over to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. No matter the cause, he accepted the invitation to lean against you, sharing your body warmth.

"Must've been hard for you, moving here alone." Your voice was far off, as if spoken to a different person and in a different time. Flashes played in your mind of teary goodbyes and security gates, only one of your parents caring enough to drive you to the airport.

"You know what it's like," Pablo responded. "You did the same thing." He wanted to life his head and look at you, but you move first, resting your temple against his, slotting perfectly together like a teacup that had found its saucer.

"Yeah but I was 18. You were what? 11?" Your voice is still heavy with a burden that Pablo can't understand. His parents had gone with him when he first moved - and you knew that. They had only gone back to Sevilla when Gavi, shy and petite little thing that he was (and remains) told them he was fine to stay in the dorm. He had made friends quick and been praised for his football skills quicker. His parents were only two hours away, and visited semi-frequently. Life at La Masia had been Disney Channel-esque. So why did you speak about it with the same somber tone as old war stories?

"I hate that you say 'I was 18' like it was a thousand years ago, Doctora."

Pablo could feel your cheeks form a wide smile, and wrapped an arm loosely around your waist as you leaned deeper into his orbit. Of all the times the two of you had been cuddly, this was quickly becoming his favorite. Because he wasn't holding you like a secret, in the dark of night when all you wanted to do was pass out. He could see you, here in his arms of your own free will, not running away, but rather leaning in. He got to sweep the hair from your eyes, and if he focused hard enough, the dull beat of your helping the tension dissipate from his bones.

It was moments like these when Pablo knew that he was wholly and completely in love. His heart didn't race around you anymore. It wa quite the opposite now: only when he was around you could his heart beat like it was intended. It felt full. Otherwise he was walking around with this tugging in his chest, begging him to drop everything and run to wherever you were. And once he arrived, he would tear the beating organ from his chest for you upon request. It was your property, anyways.

"But I was 18 like a century ago. I'm old and withered now Pablo. What you're doing now is taking care of the elderly."

His laugh in response made him fall forward, burying his head in your lap as you blushed profusely, laughter light and breathy as to not draw attention (or get him to move). His face pressed against one of your thighs, giggling a bit too hard at a very generic joke without a singular care in the world. He leans back slightly and places a kiss to your thigh, so quick and delicate you almost missed it.

"I'll always take care of you, Doctora. As long as you let me."

You couldn't bring yourself to speak at that moment, opting to instead bring a hand up to play with his hair. Gently, you wove your fingers through the locks, softly scratching at his head like the sleepy puppy he resembled in that moment.

Several minutes of comfortable silence elapsed before he spoke again.

"Remember the first time we met?"

"Vividly." The response came quickly and honestly from you, and you were banking on Pablo's slightly incapacitated state to prevent him mocking you. But it was one of those moments seared into your memory. The lights, the sweat, the deep urge to pull Pablo against you and kiss him until that perfect pout disappeared.

"You didn't think I was 18 then. It was a hard blow to my ego. I didn't want a pretty girl to think of me as a child. But now, I'm glad we met when we did."

Soft music floated in the air towards the balcony, the performers a few streets over finishing off the night with something soft and romantic to tug on the heartstrings of passing couples in hope of separating them from some Euros. Gavi lifted his head, body following shortly as he stood. He held out a hand to help you to your feet as well. "Come and dance with me." Rising, Pablo never released your hand from his, pulling you in as close as possible, keeping you pressed to him with one arm. He began swaying and you followed his lead, now your turn to rest your head on his shoulder and simply enjoy the euphoria of being in his arms. His breath was next to your ear, raising the flesh on your neck with every exhale, before finally saying,

"Because in the future when we're real senior citizens, I get to tell people I've known you my entire adult life."

You faltered slightly, stopping Gavi in his tracks as he met your eyes. God, those eyes. If only you knew the power they had over a certain Sevillano.

"You think I'll still be around when you're an old man?" You asked, trying to stay light and airy and nonchalant as your heart hammered against the confines of your ribcage.

"Of course, Doctora. Where else would you be other than beside me?"

This was it. This was the moment. You were dancing on his balcony in his hoodie as he told you that he never wanted you to leave his side. This was the time to agree, to jump and have those strong arms catch you as you said those three words that could show you the gates of heaven or the depths of hell. You traced shaking fingers down one of his biceps, eyes meeting as with ragged breath you began.

"Pablo..."

The response was the sound of the glass door being shoved open, causing the two of you to jump a foot apart. Pedri stood there, cheeks flushed like when Xavi played him all 120 minutes.

"Pablito!! You had a case of beer in the fridge to reward me for being the DD!" This man was on another planet, bringing you back down to earth.

"You should get him to bed. I need to get going anyways."

"No!" The protest was louder than anticipated, startling both you and Pedri, who had gotten bored of playing sober FIFA and may have over-indulged when Pablo's balcony date with you entered its second hour.

"I mean, I'll get him to bed. You haven't told me your story yet. I would hate for you to leave without finishing the reason why you came. Wait for me on the couch, I'll be five minutes."

There was a pause, almost a reluctance from you to break the strong eye contact. He knew that there was something else you wanted to say. There was always something left unsaid between the two of you. He watched your form disappear down the stairs as he guided Pedri to his room (he didn't want his soon-arriving sister to sleep on dirty sheets). "You have the worst timing imaginable, hermano." Pablo muttered out, blood boiling at how the evening had gone from 200 back down to zero in a matter of seconds. When did he even put a case of beer in the fridge? Neither of you were drinkers. His fridge was always stocked with every delight and craving you had mentioned in passing.

"You told me to make sure you didn't say anything stupid." Pedri responded, making Gavi squint at him in suspicion. He must have not as been as out of it as he let on.

"Yeah but I think she- nevermind. Go to sleep."

"Calm down Pablito. It's not like I interrupted your first kiss."

Forcing himself to take a deep, self-soothing breath, Pablo turned from his inebriated friend and shut the door.

Making your way to the living room, you once again filled your senses with the boyish football decor of the living room. Checking to make sure he wasn't coming down the stairs, you sped over to the front door. The pictures on the wall remained as they were previously: childhood, family, football. Your heart sank slightly at the thought of your Christmas present sitting ripped and crumpled at the bottom of his club-issued backpack. You turned back into the living room, making your way to the couch.

Flopping on the soft material, you kicked your feet up on the table, glancing over to look at his obnoxiously large Barca book. And there, sitting on top of it, was a simple black frame, slightly dented in one corner like it had been dropped. The frame held the two of you, angry and standoffish and forever frozen in that moment before the floodgates had been irreversibly opened. He had framed it. Pablo Gavi, the busiest boy in football right now, had decided you were worth the frame and the position front and center on his favorite book.

"So, what was so groundbreaking you needed to see my reaction in person?" His question snapped you out of your trance, and you sprung up from your place on the sofa, needing to get the photo out of your field of vision for your own sanity. Making a B-line to the fridge, the cold was inviting to your flushed face. Fruit, bread, cheese, cold cuts - no Spanish boys here. Just the comfort of food.

"Do you want a sandwich?"

"There's no way you said that to her! Who are you and what have you done with the Doctora I know?" Despite his reprimand, the beautiful boy before you joined in the fits of giggles that had taken over you. Having deprived yourself of a decent meal for the last week due to work (they had finally handed over all of Antonio's medical notes and they were in shambles), you fixed yourself and Pablo the most impressive sandwich you had ever conjured in your adult life. After filling his arms with every possible accompaniment, he plopped himself beside you on the couch, crossing his legs so his knee rested against yours. Before he got comfortable, he jumped up, stating he had forgotten something.

"I got these for you." The jar he placed on the table was filled with green liquid, and as you leaned in closer to inspect the label, your eyes lit up.

"You... bought me a jar of pickles?"

"Yeah. Remember one time you said you liked them so I got these. They look like the same jar." That's when you let yourself burst into tears.

The hour following had been you and Pablo in various states: his arm around you as you cried into his shoulder about how shit the people in your life had been, then hunched over plates stuffing your faces and joking around, and finally the current one of eating pickles and chips and whatever else was on the table as you recounted your demonic phone call.

"I did but like I've wanted to say it to her for months now! You don't understand, Pablo, because you're friends with the amazing, caring, thoughtful being that is me." More giggles as he shoved a pillow into you, smile so bright it could light up the entire first floor. He was never afraid to be like this around you: silly and playful and just comfortable.

"La la Doctora, ladies shouldn't use such foul language." It was your turn to shove his shoulder, probably causing you more damage than him due to the rock-solid muscle.

"Thanks papa, appreciate the advice. But like seriously, she asked me to drive her to Madrid one weekend - as in like Madrid five hours away - to go to a specific store. You know what she bought there? Buttons. 10 hours of my life and a hell of a lot of gas so she could get buttons! And it's not like I expected anything in return-"

"No of course not. It's just when you do nice things for people and are kind to them, you want them to act the same. Treat others how you want to be treated." Pablo bit his tongue there, scared he would sound immature or stupid. You were several years his senior in age and education, and the last thing he wanted was for you to water-down your feelings because you thought he wouldn't understand.

"Right?! See, you get it! And I just, ugh, I feel kinda bad because like she didn't really do anything directly. Like yeah her show and stuff but there wasn't really a moment or like a fallout." You moved towards Pablo, leaning on his shoulder as the moment took a more serious turn.

"But that's the whole point isn't it? That she didn't do anything, she was just kind of there and reaping all the benefits of friendship with no effort. And-"

"Doctora, can I interrupt you for a minute?" You felt Pablo's shoulder dip slightly, and disappointed as you were, took the sign to lift your head.

"Sorry I didn't mean to take over your personal sp-"

"Ay shut up about my personal space. I'd handcuff you to me if I had the chance." He quickly looked away from you, processing his comment after he had said it. Nice one Gavito - real friendly. He moved some of the cushions to the end of the couch by the arm rest, kicking off the more decorative ones and leaning down. Honey eyes looked at you between thick lashes, and patted the narrow sliver of space beside him. Rolling his eyes at the confused raising of your brow, he verbalized his request.

"Come lay next to me while you rant."

Oh. Oh. Had he ever asked you outright to cuddle with him? The first time, you had been the instigator. You had taken that leap off the bridge - no, the cliff - and yet there he had been, warm and welcoming, catching you with grace. Ever since then, there had really been no words. Talking about his desires and feelings didn't come naturally to Pablo, and so he steered clear of them all together. It was always something unspoken: he would be at your apartment and just follow you down the hall when you declared it to be bedtime. Or when you had spent too much time at the Gavira house watching reruns of the same telenovela, and Gavi just switched the TV off and guided you up the stairs. No matter the location it was always the same. Him on the right side, you on the left, but both magnetically drawn to the center and one another. You slotted into his side, head on his heart, and stabilized by his embrace. Sometimes he wore a shirt - most times he didn't. He hugged you a little closer whenever you were in his clothing, trying to dispense his scent onto it anew and make sure you would think of him whenever there was a breeze. But there were never words. Only feelings and longing gazes and that same settled silence.

"You want me to?"

"Why would I ask if I didn't want you to? Last time you fell asleep on my shoulder you almost broke your neck. Now if you fall asleep you will only be semi-sore in the morning. I mean you don't have to if you-"

"No. I mean yes. I mean no I don't not want to do that."

"Is your Spanish getting worse or did that make no sense?"

You sighed in defeat, laying beside Pablo on the couch, sinking into the fabric and into him. One of his arms was acting as your pillow, and his hand made its way upwards to softly play with your hair, an instant soother. Body turning inwards toward him, your arms were up and palms gently pressed to his chest.

"Am I too close?" You asked, Pablo's previous comment about wanting to be physically attached to you seemed to have evaporated from your mind. His second arm fell around your waist, pulling you closer in. Your thigh was now pressed between his legs, and you both seemed to hold your breath for a moment. The alarms went off in his brain while his eyes held yours. He just stared at you. That's all he ever really wanted to do nowadays. He unfroze and shook his head before prompting you to continue your story.

"Oh, right - where was I?"

"She never put any effort into the relationship."

"Oh, right." You sat up to grab one of the blankets, draping the warmth on the tangled mess of limbs, and laying back down. It was not lost on you that Pablo, despite all the jokes, had listened intently to every word you had said. Nothing Pablo did, from the way he shifted his misaligned hips to his soft breathing to the way his fingers traced shapes in your side, was ever lost on you.

"So..." and on continued your rant for about an hour. It was a different kind of catharsis to speak about your pain and receive empathy in response. To be told that the feelings poisoning your spirit were ones that had been planted and could be weeded out. It was a relief that also brought about a tiredness, where once your emotions were freed, your eyelids grew substantially heavier. But the fingers remained soothing against your hair, twisting and smoothing the locks. He pushed a few stray pieces from your face, smiling at the sleepy state on your face.

"Excited for this last month of the season?" The short international break had allowed for the season to be neatly wrapped up by the first week of May, with the Champions League final and awards ceremonies following directly after.

"Mhm," you hummed back, eyes now fully closed and cheek pressed against Pablo's warm skin. "But it's not really a month for me. It's more like a week left of the season. Copa Del Rey in three days, then you score a screamer in the net at home to win La Liga three days later. Once the season is decided, I'm back at school for practical exams." The vibration in his chest reverberated throughout your entire being, and your semi-sleeping form nuzzled deeper into Pablo, which neither of you thought possible. Fingers tightened around the semi-exposed skin of your waist, and he felt a sensation akin to weilding fire at will. Knowing full well the flames could engulf him in a torturous inferno, but oh how beautiful to hold and let dance at the tips of his fingers.

"So we have two more matches with you?"

"Three if you choke again and let the other borderline relegation team score three goals." He tugged lightly at your hair as a reprimand, your smile spreading against his neck.

"I wasn't even on the field for the full 90 minutes last game. Don't worry, we're bringing home both trophies this week. And you're getting that screamer of a goal. Make sure to record it so I can gloat forever." A gentle nod and a hum, but the sleep was slowly seeping into your senses.

"So after that, what? What's next?"

"Well you already know that Xavi offered me a permanent position for when I graduate next year. So I'm at the club on automatic placement renewal. He he I was the first one in my class to get it."

"Of course you were, Doctora. You're the best there is." Warm cheeks yet again. Pablo must think you're a natural furnace, not realizing that his sticky sweet compliments were always triggering the "Heart Overheating" alarms in your mind.

"You think too highly of me. I'll see you when you come back for preseason medicals and training. They might let me run it this year. Oh, and at the Bondor. I'll be there, too."

"At the what?"

"The Bondor." You repeated, unaware of how much you were mumbling as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

"Slow down for me, Doctora. One word at a time. Where will I see you?"

"Ballon. D'or." You repeated for the third time as slowly as possible. It was too hard to stay awake now, and let yourself slip fully into the depth of relaxation, tangled in a web of warm Pablo, basking in this moment where you could just rest contently.

Pablo on the other hand was now on high alert. There had been a lot of commotion in the club when the nominations were announced. Pedri had pulled up the livestream on the projector, the entire squad waiting with baited breath for the categories of interest. There mutters all around about how the whole ceremony was a scam and had royally screwed over Robert, but who was going to turn down the honor? You had seen the stampede (led of course by Luca, who was always at the head of any effort to get out of doing his job) and followed quickly, afraid someone else had passed out. The players had been pushing themselves to stay miles above Madrid in the league, and it was taking a real toll. You looked up at the ceiling as you speed-walked, praying that everyone (especially Dembele) was okay. You would really like a calm week.

"Now, the nominees for the Kopa Trophy, awarded to the best player under 21 years of age..."

Ansu caught your eye as you entered and waived you over, instructing you to sit with him and the other young Barca boys. Gavi had been given a seat in the middle, the throne of the meeting room, as the murmurs circulated once again. You hadn't been aware that Pablo was a contender for this award - not surprised, but your schedule didn't allow you to keep on on Twitter as you once had. You wrung your fingers, heart hammering as the presenter spoke with that slow TV drawl that made everyone want to commit arson.

"Jude Bellingham, Jamal Musiala, Bukayo Saka, Eduardo Camavinga, Gavi-"

You were sure there were other nominees, but the shouts of joy and thunderous claps on Gavi's shoulders prevented any more information from entering your ears. The coaching staff and older players commended him on the achievement, and you had to wait until the room was essentially cleared to stick out your hand and offer a congratulatory message.

"Are we doing handshakes now?" He asked, eyes flitting between you and Pedri's gossip circle occupying the far corner.

"It feels more professional. This is a professional achievement after all."

""I haven't achieved anything yet." He said shaking your hand firmly and lingering much longer than was appropriate for the workplace (and 'friends').

"What are you talking about? You've been nominated! That's huge in itself given that a lot of your teammates also qualify for that award."

"Yeah but Pedri snatched it last year. They won't hand it over to the same club two years in a row."

"Doesn't Messi have like 27 Ballon D'ors in a row?"

"Please don't use Leo as an example. I am just a regular human being." As the two of you made your way into the hall, out of the line of sight of Pedri's tea spilling team, the laughter and teasing died down. You turned to Pablo, bringing one hand to rest on his arm, smoothing the fabric of his training jacket with your fingers as you looked up at him.

"You're a brilliant player, Pablo. One of the best this club has ever seen. You are incredible and have the brightest future ahead of you, and I just hope I get to be a part of it. That award it yours - I can feel it. But even if it isn't, don't sell yourself short. You amaze me every day."

This was the best news since his promotion to the first team. He had been pushing the Paris trip to the far recesses of his brain, a bout of nausea and anxiety striking him every time he conjured the thought of walking down that carpet or speaking on stage. But now you were going to be there. You would see him in the finest suit D&G would lend him, hair perfectly gelled down (he would need a trim). And he let himself ever so briefly entertain the fantasy of you watching him win. Of the announcer calling out his name, the crowd rising to their feet in deafening applause as he accepted the trophy from Pedri. He would look out into the crowd and see you there, sending a wink your way before thanking everyone who helped him achieve this, especially the medical staff. He drifted off to sleep replaying this scenario in his head, a trophy in one arm and the girl of his dreams in the other.

Pedri woke up with a minor headache in the morning, sunlight pouring through the large windows directly into his eyes. He would be buying Pablo some blackout curtains for Christmas. Descending from his place, he walked across it: a real sight to behold. You and Gavi were tangled together on the couch, legs an absolute mess with the blanket pooled around them. Your head was on his chest, face nuzzled upward into his neck. Your hands were fisting his shirt, as if afraid someone would rip him from your clutches. Pablo wasn't much better. He had his arms wrapped around you, one on the back of your head and one around your waist. He had managed to pull you on top of him in the night, his back flat on the sofa and your weight pooled on his chest and bringing him tranquility. His lips rested against your forehead, his face perfectly positioned with yours. He held you tight against him, and your unconscious form rose and fell with each of his deep and even breaths. Despite his best efforts, Pedri couldn't stop himself from snapping a picture of the moment. Thank God his ringer was always off. He did have enough self restraint to prevent him from sharing the photo with his group chat with Ansu, Ale, Eric, and surprisingly Robert (he just likes to be included). The name had changed numerous times in the last several months, and was now simply called "friendship" my ass for obvious reasons. He knew this would be a picture Pablo and you would look back on fondly when one was finally courageous enough to just let go. But until then, it sat safely in his hidden folder, and he tiptoed out the door, sparing one last look at the pair of you, sleeping more deeply than well-fed toddlers. The tension in Pablo's face was gone. Pedri hoped it would stay that way.

"And we are just minutes from kicking off what could be the league-winning match for Barcelona here in Spotify Camp Nou! Set to be an exciting game against Atletico Madrid, and the crowd is absolutely on fire."

"Just as well, Peter. I mean Barcelona have the ability to make this an incredible three trophy season right here today. They're coming off a massive win against Sevilla in the Copa Del Rey final, at home for what could be the league winner, and the performances we're going to see today are going to be full energy full power now that the Ballon D'Or nominee list has been announced."

"That's right we have Robert Lewandowski shortlisted for the titular award after two incredible seasons at Bayern Munich. We also have Pedri potentially passing the 'Golden Boy' torch onto his fellow midfielder Gavi, who has had an absolutely stellar season."

"Who can forget about that performance in the Supercopa, Peter. Three goal contributions in a Classico no less, the likes of which we haven't seen since Leo Messi stepped up to the plate, and we all know how that played out. He's really been putting in amazing performances week after week, and the most surprising thing is the level of health Barca have been able to maintain. For a team riddled with injuries all of last season, it is a miracle turnaround. Kick off right here after the break."

The tunnel was always busy right before kick off, but today it was quadruple-fold. You weren't sure if Barca was just extra confident in a victory today, but the media passes had tripled, and everyone was eager to get candids of the young blaugrana boys. You were pushing through people's shoulders, 'excuse-me' shifting very quickly into 'get out of the way' as you made your way to the players line up to adjust resistance tape and back braces. You were in the official physio uniform today, Nike jacket hugging your skin and tucked neatly into your trousers. The entire staff had been gifted with a new pair of cleats with the date on one side and a number of their choice on the other.

"I'm assuming 6 for you?" You had been caught off guard by the assumption from the brand rep.

"Why would you assume that? Have other players been telling you things about me?" You must have looked genuinely afraid and shocked, as the rep raised his hands in innocence, face going pale.

"No no no. I have absolutely no idea who you are. You have a 6 on your hoodie, so I thought you would want something to match."

It was discreet, a small black number on the back of your heel, and yet it was the only thing that Gavi could see as you worked to adjust Frenkie's shoulder. Did all of you have numbers? Were they in order, yours just happening to fall in the 6th position? Were there even 6 people on the physio team? His eyes stayed on your shoes until they were in front of his. He looked up to meet you raised brow.

"Why are you staring? Your shoes are nicer than mine."

Turning around, he let you test his hip alignment as he allowed himself to speak away the nerves buzzing throughout his system.

"Think we're going to win?"

"I always think you're going to win. I'm just waiting for that incredible goal you promised last week."

"What, the three goal contributions in the Supercopa weren't enough for you? You have high standards, Doctora."

"Of course. That was back in January. It's April now, Pablo. I want you to make my last game good." As you released him from your grip, he turned to face you, putting both hands on your shoulders. A few players turned their heads, but only for a cursory glance.

"If I score today, you let me pick you up as a celebration."

"Are you allowed to do that?"

"Who's going to stop me?"

"One of your fangirls might dive onto the field and tackle me."

"I have faith in you, Doctora. You seem like a fast runner."

"Always nice to have your unwavering support. Deal. Better be a good goal."

"A screamer."

You moved onto Pedri, who was next in the numerical line up, and his eyebrows did all the talking for him. You muttered a quick 'good luck' before continuing your duties in the remaining minutes before they walked out for the match.

"What a friendly little deal you've made, hermano." He leaned over and said, but the players began walking before Pablo could respond. Post -anthem, you took your place on the sidelines, jittery from the electric energy ricocheting around the stadium. No Joao for Gavi to shove around, but Griezmann was going to be a problem. The first half was rough and fast-paced, but remained scoreless. As the players came off for half time, you were instructed to help out the ones with high muscle tension. Passing Pablo, you placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke into his ear, quick and soft: "Looks like I'm staying seated all game."

Pablo turned just in time to watch you scamper off, a smirk on his lips. Pablo loved a challenge, and it was all the better to have it come from you. He had a couple opportunities during the first half, but he was scared of getting fouled too early on. Now was the time were he was able to push, with the anxiety from the beginning of the game shaken off. He tuned back into Xavi's pep talk and instructions for the second half, lips still upturned.

The media was always puffing up players, but it was true that Pedri was a magician with the ball. There was something captivating about the way he calmly danced between players, maneuvering skillfully. A pass to Araujo, then back to him. The roar of the crowd was dulled by the thrum of your heart and the snapping as you bit at your nails in anticipation. The boys had been pressing hard, and a score seemed eminent. Pedri lifted his head, looking for his striker. Lewa was locked up on the right. It seemed the moment to move back, alleviate the press and recalculate. But then a flash of blue and red streaked across his vision and his foot reacted faster than his brain. Minute 85, a scoreless game, and a ball crossed high and fast towards the menace that was Gavi. His foot connected in the far left corner of the box and there it went, screaming past the goalie's fingertips before nestling in the top corner of the net.

An explosion. You were the slowest person to react, slack jawed as the other physios shoved and shook you in celebration. Hands coming to his chest, he gripped the crest like it was a crown jewel, looking right as you as he brought it to his lips, kissing it with a force and passion that had flowed in him since he was 11 years old. He ran towards you, teammates following swiftly, and suddenly there were arms around your thighs as he lifted you. He bounced you in the air as his teammates clapped him on the shoulders, congratulating him and showering him with the well-deserved praise. You looked down, hands rested on Pablo's shoulders. His gaze was locked with yours. you wanted to tease him or commend him but there were no words. He released you, pointing at ou before taking his position.

They lifted the trophy shortly after, the players looking like children as they danced and sang in a circle. The players all took their turns squeezing the living daylights out of you.

"Doctora!" It was Dembele who called out to you, waving you over. Under the watchful eyes of his coaches, Gavi was more careful not to get too close to you (even though he had just Lion-King lifted you during the game).

"Come take a picture with all your patients and their trophy!" The request was made with laughs all around as you stood behind the trophy, Ousmane on one arm and Pedri on the other. Balde and Ansu got into the photo as well, arms all around each other.

"Gavi! Get in here! You're the one with the most clinic hours." Ousmane called out to him as well. He blushed as he walked (waddled) over, stopping to pick up the trophy and dropping it into your hands.

"This is your achievement too, Doctora. You should be proud." Pedri shoved him in beside you, claiming it helped 'balance the photo'. The flash went off twice. Once with Pablo paying attention to the camera, smiling brightly having just won MOTM in their league decider. The second was almost identical, but his head was turned to you. The smile was softer, the eyes kinder. He looked at you like the ultimate prize. As he said his goodbyes to you, promising not to miss you too much in the month you would be seperated, he realized one thing: he was going to need more frames.

@gaviraconcubine: ok i thot it was stupid but maybe gavi is actually w his physio???? just look at them

1,272 Likes 677 Retweets 385 Replies

@blaugranaboy: if you FEMALES knew anything, you would know barca has had shit physios and is always getting injured. since she came on staff they staying healthy. i would pick her ass up to

@barbiebalde: @blaugranaboy *too. Sexist AND bad english? pick a struggle

@88rizzing: ok but theres also pics of her out with pedri at a prada store so idk anymore???????

@gavitaylorsversion: her instagram is private :( can someone drop clearer pictures of her

You had been through some difficult situations in the last ten months, but these practical exams were the biggest challenge you had faced in your existence. 8am to 8pm lectures for two weeks, followed by a week straight of performing concussion protocols, lifting stiff boards, and demonstrating a whopping 6 different types of sutures had finally come to an end. It was May 5th, the final day of your exams, and three days before your flight to Paris for the ceremony. Your phone had been discarded for practically the entirety of the month, logged out of all social media and having your focus set to only let through emergency calls (and, of course, texts from Pablo). They had been less frequent given his understanding of your schedule.

[Pablito]: i know you have stitches today. Good luck <3

[Pablito]: Kounde asked about you today. He hasn't realized you've been missing the last two weeks. He really isn't on this planet

[Pablito]: the finale of our show came on last night. I recorded it so we can watch it together after your exams.

And now the most recent one had come through:

[Pablito]: Congrats on surviving the epic battle of your practical exams. I sent you dinner. Have a great night!

The doorbell rang in some scary accurate timing, and you graciously accepted the package from the delivery driver. Sitting on your couch to watch any comedic show that would help you decompress. The bag was huge, and seemingly filled to the brim with containers. Pasta, pizza, two types of bread, fried chicken, and three slices of cake (chocolate, cheesecake, and tres leches). There was also a bottle of sugar-free soda, for balance apparently. As you picked up your phone to ask Pablo if you were meant to feed the whole building, another text popped up on your screen.

[Santa Naranja]: Hi! I'm not sure if you remember me, but I'm the stylist who worked with Pedro for his Prada shoot? I got this number from him. You should yell at him for giving out your number so easily.

[Santa Naranja]: Anyways, I just got the list for the Ballon D'Or ceremony and I saw your name on there. How exciting! My company is styling Barca for the event, and I wanted to reach out personally to see what you would be interested in wearing.

[Santa Naranja]: Because I'm assuming you don't want to be in a suit? But I could be wrong.

You replied instantly, telling her how grateful you were for contacting you. You had been planning on wearing one of your old wedding-guest dresses, not having the time to go pick up something else. The two of you arranged to meet tomorrow at her studio, and you went back to your original mission: snapping a picture and sending it to Gavi.

He opened the message instantly, feeling all warm and fuzzy staring at the food spread on your lap and his old shirt hanging off your shoulders. You hair was up, face bare, and he wanted to reach through the phone and kiss you on the forehead.

[Doctora]: thanks for the food, pablito <3 see u in paris

"Ouch!" He yelled out, taken out of his daydream by a needle shoved into his wrist. "Pedri! Tell your friend to be gentle."

"First of all, we're not friends-"

"We're not?" Pedri asked the stylist, the smoke practically rising from her ears. She glared at him, looking extra menacing with the pins between her teeth.

"No. We're not. You're only allowed to be here if you're silent, remember? And second of all we are tailoring your suit sleeves. You're going to get stabbed if you keep moving your arms! Now hold still. She's still going to be there in 15 minutes for you to gush over."

"How did you know who I was talking to?" Pablo asked, genuine shock and curiosity across his features.

"Oh please, for the love of God, don't tell me you think you're being subtle?!"

"Hi! Come in come in! I didn't even realize it was raining."

Santa Naranja was, as you had recently discovered, not just Pedri's stylist. She wasn't even a Prada stylist. She was now a senior assistant stylist for Style Di Fortuna, a global firm that worked to style celebrities for different events. Since Herno and D&G started dressing the club, management had received official notice regarding their event attire.

"You should have seen the letter they sent. It was like a scolding from the school principal. 'Players must be formally and professionally styled during all official events as to avoid conflict in brand image and the tarnishing of the brand's respectability. Can you imagine dressing so poorly that you could ruin the reputation of an entire brand? Although I shouldn't expect any less. Pedro's jorts could bring about doomsday."

It was the other girls in the office that had given her the nickname 'Santa' for her saint-like patience in dealing with Pedri for... reasons. She was a completely different person when his cheshire cat smile and bushy brows were not in the room. She was calm and fun and humorous. She scurried around the workshop, pouring you a cup of cinnamon tea loaded with sugar, before running back into a warehouse closet and throwing about twenty garment bags over her arms.

"Did you have anything in mind for your look? I know that the club must have given you some basic guidelines, but what about your personal style?"

"Oh yeah, they came with the invitation. Long skirt, no slit, no trains, no plunging necklines, no open backs, no beading or gems, no appliques, and no bright colors."

The poor stylist stopped in her tracks, returning virtually every dress she had in her hands.

"Okay, let's go to the nun section of the closet. What colors would you like? Keep them boring and muted." You giggled at the remark, rattling off a list of colors. She either hummed in agreement or gave a slight pause, allowing you time to retract the wrong choice. Green, red, and white were all off the table, seeing as the wags had already claimed them.

"What's Gavi's favorite color?" She teased, shoving a garment bag at you and ushering you behind the separator to change.

"Haha, very funny. I'm not going as his date."

"You can add the 'unfortunately' to the end of that. I won't judge you."

"Sure. It's unfortunate I'm not Pablo's date in the same way it's unfortunate that you're not Pedri's."

"Please don't speak such wicked thoughts about me and Pedro into the universe."

After cycling through about 15 dresses, the weight of the event and the pressure of traveling in two days was beginning to weigh on you, a tightness settling into your chest and disrupting your breathing.

"I'm going to look so stupid at this event. Nothing looks good." You huffed as you resisted the urge to face plant into the million euro pile of fabric on the floor. Your companion huffed as well, racking her brain for any guidance on how to dress you without making you look like a churchly sister or a plastic bag.

"Okay. Do you know anything about fashion?" She asked. Her tone was soft and delicate, like a kindergarten teacher asking a poor 6-year old if they knew how to tie their shoes.

"I try and keep up."

"If you could pick any look from the last like 10 years on the runway that you would wear to this event, what would it be?"

"I can't afford-"

"Not telling you to buy it. Just imagine. If you could wish a dress into your hands right now, what would it be?"

You sat and thought for a moment. It had been a long time since you separated yourself from the imposed masculine nature of your job. Your hair stayed up, your nails stayed short, your face always painted naturally (you had gotten dress-coded for winged eyeliner once). It had been years if not a complete decade since you allowed your thoughts to be pink and flowery. You had put girlhood on pause, allowed it to hibernate for the harsh winter war of professional success. But now it was spring, and the blossoms emerged once again. You weren't a physio going for a meeting. You were a princess preparing for her magical night in Paris, your fairy standing before you. This was one of those moments where you just had to take a pause. You had worked to hard to make it here. Now that you were here, enjoy it.

"Well, Viktor and Rolf had the most gorgeous tulle dresses ad fashion week. They were all strapless and tight at the top, and they had these beautiful full skirts and velvet ribbons. If I was a wag or a footballer accepting my own award, I would wear that." You said, still allowing the rose color of your imagination to tint your reality. You entertained the thought briefly that this is the first time Pablo would see you properly dolled up, and it made you want to squeal and kick your feet like a girl waiting for prom.

"Oh my God you're so smart!" She yelled, running back into the dark passage of the closet. She returned a moment later with a black fabric bag, gold filigree embossed onto the material. She hung and began to unzip, unveiling the most beautiful dress you had ever seen in your life. It was a pale nude, almost the color of beach sand, with a fitted corset top that came down to the top of the hip bone. It then flares slightly into a layered tulle skirt, the color solid except for one band of pale blue that wrapped around the skirt, the waist accentuated with a velvet bow in the same dusty blue. You reached out one shaking hand to smooth down the fabric, almost afraid it would disintegrate in your touch. (dress inspo for those interested)

"Bouguessa just sent us this. It's more subtle than the Viktor and Rolf ones, it goes with gold and silver jewelry, won't draw too much attention, and follows that ridiculous novel of rules." She said, hands on her hips behind you.

"I can't wear this." You said, trembling at the very thought of spilling a drop of... well anything really on this dress.

"You can and you will. We had it shorted for some actress wearing it in Cannes later this month, so wear nice shoes. Nothing too tall though - Pablo is 5'7 after all." You turned to her, and the face she had expected to smile back at her held eyes welling with tears. You pulled her against you, too fast for her to process, and let the tears stream down your cheeks.

"I have never had anyone be so kind to me. I can't thank you enough."

"I'm just letting you borrow a dress," she said, arms wrapping around you as well. "Do you not have friends?"

"Let's not open that can of worms."

"Hi, Dr. Gonzalez. You wanted to see me?" Your head peaked in ever so slightly to catch his hand waving you over. Despite knowing on a deep psychological level that he respected you as a professional, he still scared the bejeezus out of you.

"Yes. I forgot to give you your passes for tonight's flight. You'll be able to use this to get directly into the lounge and then on the jet we have chartered this evening."

"The... what?"

"How were planning on getting to Paris exactly, Miss y/n?" He took off his small glasses, a gesture to emphasize how stupid you were being at the present.

"I was going to take the train in tomorrow?" You responded extremely unsure of yourself.

"Take the train in the morning of the ceremony? Oh this generation. No foresight. You'll meet the team in the lounge at exactly 8pm this evening."

"So what I'm hearing is... I'm going on the private jet with Xavi and the squad?"

"Yes."

"And my accomodation..?"

"You will have a room in the hotel on the same floor as the rest of the team. Any other logistical questions? Do I need to explain what the Ballon D'Or is?"

"No, no, of course not. Thank you so much Dr. Gonzalez. I'll be sure to represent Barca well as an organization that loves women!" You got up hastily from your chair, exiting the office with Dr. Gonzalez yelling behind you.

"We didn't send you because you're a woman! Don't say that to any reporters!"

The Barcelona airport was, in your opinion, nothing special. That was until the woman at the check-in desk saw your badge and personally guided you past security and into a private Air France lounge. The room was decked out in plush sofas and chaise lounges, soft spa music bouncing between the walls. Enough food to feed the entire terminal had been laid out on stone and marble platters, and three girls in matching dark blue uniforms strolled around the room, waiting to be flagged down for assistance. This was nice. Maybe gold digging was really the best choice. It's a miracle that not everyone on the quad had Ferran-sized heads if this was the treatment they were used to.

"Ay look who finally made it." The voice greeting you belonged to Xavi, who was the first to stand up and embrace you. You greeted the rest of the group and introduced yourself to both Xavi and Robert's wives, thinking it more appropriate to sit with the other women on the trip. You chatted with them until it was time to board, at which point you could no longer exercise self control. You walked up to Pablo, tapping him on the shoulder.

He couldn't suppress his smile when he saw you, and Anna whispered to her husband how you had not introduced yourself as Gavi's girlfriend.

"Well, they're not together. She's a physio at the club."

"He looks at her like he's in love."

"Yeah. Everyone has noticed except the two of them."

Fighting the urge to stuff you into his hoodie so you could never disappear for a month again, Pablo opted to instead put one arm around you, embracing you in a tight side hug. You two walked onto the plane together, effectively abandoning Pedri, while catching up on everything that had gone on since your last meeting. He sat beside you on one of the couches, spinning around to lay with his legs on top of you, which were swiftly pushed off. The two of you now sat side by side, eating from a bag of sour gummies.

"I missed you." He said softly as you watched Barcelona grow smaller and smaller beneath you. You turned back to him resting your head on his shoulder. "I missed you too. A lot more than I thought I would." There was no more talk after that. No mention of feelings or trophies or anything really. Just sour bears and that telenovela finale he promised to watch with you.

The clock in the hotel lobby read 11:44pm as you fought with Pablo to try and carry your own bag in. Well, fought is a vague term - you tugged on his bicep while he dragged you and your suitcase inside.

"We're only here for two days - what on Earth could you have brought?" He asked, letting out an exaggerated huff as he set it down on its wheels.

"Makeup is heavy, my dress is heavy, my shoes are heavy - society's beauty standards are just weighing me down at every turn." He smiled back at you, your fingers itching to pinch his cheeks and kiss him on the tip of his nose and tell him that he had a smile that could bring cities to their knees.

"Pedri! Gavi!"

You turned around to the source of the voice, watching Pedri embrace a very tall and very familiar Spaniard. As he made his way over to Gavi, he gave you a once over that indicated his brain was still trying to figure out who you were. As his hand connected with Gavi's, it was like the electricity had switched back on.

"Oh, hey! You came and interviewed at Chelsea. Convince her to stay then, hermanito?" he clapped Gavi on the back of the neck.

"No, I didn't have to say anything. She spent an afternoon with you guys and came running back to the better club." You smiled shyly, feeling a little awkward at your once potential club interacting with the one you had chosen to stay at. You stepped to the side, noticing Perdi deep in conversation with someone else. Tan, tall, and beautiful, he turned to you, smiling wide and approaching.

"Ah hello again." You were in a hug before you knew it. You reciprocated, wishing one of the boys would take a photo so you could send it to ever girl in your high school.

"Joao! Great to see you again. How have you been?" He pulled away, hands still on your upper arms as he ranted to you about his difficult second half of the season had been. Pablo sat back, loosely listening to the exchange between Pedri and Kepa, with most of his energy focused on seething at the sight in front of him. Joao had talked to you for what? An hour? Why did he feel so comfortable touching you like this? His tongue found purchase in his cheek, his arms crossed over his chest. Xavi tapped him on the shoulder to hand him the key cards for your three, giving him a perfect excuse to break up your conversation.

"Here you go, Doctora. This one's yours. Doing well Joao?" There was an obvious hint of animosity in his voice that was evident to the both of you. Nevertheless, Joao released you to shake Gavi's hand.

"I saw you on TV the other day getting picked up by this one. Twitter went crazy speculating about you two dating. You guys.. aren't dating, right?" Joao directed the question to you, now fully turned away from Gavi, whose body temperature had exceeded 100 degrees.

"No, no. We're..." your eyes flashes to him, "just friends".

"I guess anyone would be grateful to have someone like you caring for their wellbeing. A shame that you didn't come over to us for this season. But I may get the privilege if I can get Xavi to place a bid on me." Pablo let out a laugh that was too loud and enthusiastic to be polite. If Joao had been offended, he didn't let it on.

"Oh, Mason is here, too! We're going out with him and his friend Jude for drinks here at the hotel bar. You should come with us! You can come too, Gavi- oh wait, are you even old enough to drink?" The question was punctuated with a smirk, an obvious rebuttal to Gavi's humor at him joining the club.

"I'm flattered but I need to get some rest for tom- wait Jude as in Bellingham?" You asked, eyes wide.

"Of course. Know any other Jude's being nominated?" You heard Gavi breathing loud and heavy beside you, taking this as your cue to call it a night. Before you left, Joao grabbed your wrist, taking a look at your card.

"Floor three. Same as us. Maybe we'll see you around." He hugged you once more as a good night, then headed over to Mason, who waved at the group of you with Jude beside him. You made your way to the elevator with Gavi and felt embarrassed. You hadn't even done anything but be polite, but in some way you felt like you had committed a sin in talking so freely with Joao. Engrossed in thought, your face met Gavi's back as he suddenly stopped in front of a door.

"This is my room. I'll see you tomorrow." You stopped him in his tracks, one hand preventing him from crossing the threshold.

"Are you mad at me?" You asked, voice soft and even, trying to disguise the hurt.

"I- no, of course not, Doctora. Just nervous. Didn't think I'd be seeing my competition tonight." You pulled him into a hug, hands around his waist and your head on his chest with his above it. He let out a shaky breath, and all his fears with them. Joao had invited you out and yet you were still here, in his arms and in front of his door.

"Will I see you tomorrow? Before the 'big show'?" He asked, keeping you against his chest, just for a moment longer.

"Staff aren't allowed on the carpet so I'll see you inside the theater."

"Don't sit next to Joao tomorrow." He said with a slight pout, and you wanted to just pull him down and kiss him so hard he lost consciousness from the lack of air.

"I don't think they'll let me sit next to the players. Not important enough."

"You're going to be one of the most important people in that room. And just, don't sit next to him."

"I won't Pablo."

"Promise?" He said, sticking out his pinky. You rolled your eyes and wrapped your finger around his, bringing your conjoined hands upwards. You twisted them so that your thumb was facing him and vice versa. You leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to the skin of his hand. His breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed audibly.

"What are you.. what was that?"

"You have to kiss it to seal the promise."

He brought your entwined hands up to his lips, looking at you once more for any objection, before closing his eyes and kissing your knuckles.

"You have soft lips." You said looking between his lips and his hooded eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Well, I'm two rooms over. Good night, Pablo. Good luck."

He watched you walk down the hall and enter your room, only returning to his when the door clicked shut. He pressed his back to the wood, allowing it to cool the sweat pooling under his hoodie. He was so thankful that he wasn't sharing a room with Pedri, because the feeling of your lips on his skin, soft and plump, had made him so incredibly hard.

"We are here live from the red carpet of the annual Ballon D'or ceremony, and the stars of the football world have come out in full force. On the carpet now Xavi Hernandez and his wife Núria, as well as Ballon D'Or contender Robert Lewandowski and his wife, champion in her own right, Anna. These are the veterans of football, and they should be shortly accompanied by the young trailblazers leading the New Era of Barcelona football."

It was three minutes until Gavi was supposed to step onto the carpet, and he was panicking. His breathing was shallow, his collar felt like it was suffocating him, and he was sweating bullets under his suit.

"Pedri, I can't do this." He said, genuine fear swimming in his eyes as he looked to his friend for comfort.

"Yes you can, hermano. All you have to do is walk and smile. Maybe answer some questions. You can absolutely do all of those things."

"What if I make an ass of myself?" He said, hiding behind Pedri as their handler signalled 30 seconds until they walked.

"You are here being told you are one of the best under 21 players in the world, and then you get to walk into the theater and see the best person in the world."

"I do really want to see her in a dress."

"I was talking about Leo Messi." Pedri deadpanned, and Gavi was shoved on the carpet genuinely laughing, a million bulbs flashing to capture his joy. He was here. He was 18 years old and on his way to shake hands with greatness. He was walking the carpet with his best friend in the world in a five thousand euro suit. He thought to his younger self, eleven years old and hiding behind his mother on his first day at La Masia. All the dreams he had were now the blueprint for his reality. Barca first team player? Check. Goal scorer? Check. Trophy winner? Check. Beautiful girl to share every euphoric moment with? Pending.

He took a few steps forward, waiting for Pedri to be photographed before he walked down to the end of the carpet, taking a group photo and heading to the microphones.

"Gavi! You look wonderful this evening. Are you excited for your first ceremony?"

"Oh, yeah, of course. It's something that I always dreamed about and now that my dream is a reality, I am just trying to enjoy every moment."

"Well you have had an absolutely stellar season playing with the reigning Kopa winner here, Pedri. Is it something you're thankful for, to play with him and to play with Barca?"

He looked over at Pedri, whose eyebrows were wiggling causing his serious demeanor to break.

"I'm absolutely so pleased to work with this guy here. He's just incredible on the field and we work well together. Barca is my lifelong club, and I am grateful to play there, to have them take care of me and keep me healthy." The reporter gave a thumbs up, and the boy stepped to the side to allow Pedri to finish his interview, wanted to have company as he entered the theater.

"Taking care of you and keeping you healthy, hm? Why didn't you just say her full name?"

The theater was glorious, all gold ornaments and plush red velvet, giving it a timeless and glamorous look. He craned his neck, looking around for those familiar eyes and inviting smile that had made his life so much worse and simultaneously so much better.

"Pablo." The voice came from behind him, and when he turned around, the world moved in slow motion. Your dress, pale nude and powder blue, made you look like a Greek deity. You could give the entire Spanish royal family a run for their money with the way the bodice seemed to mold against you, flaring out into a beautiful cascade of material. It ended at the bottom of your ankles, your feet hugged by blue heels, an anklet handing off that Gavi couldn't quite make out. Your jewelry glinted in the lights, the necklaces sitting between your collar bones drawing in the eye to the expanse of your chest and neck, and he had to try so, so hard to tear his eyes from this. He focused on all these details because looking at your face made him go slack-jawed.

Your hair was cascading freely, front pieces twirled away to show off the beauty of your feature. Your makeup was simple - glowing skin with rosy cheeks, black liner framing and highlighting your eyes, and glossy pink lips. Pablo knew nothing about makeup, but he knew for certain that if he got his hands on you, he would destroy whatever you had painted on your lips to make them shine. You batted your long lashes, and smiled shyly as Pedri let out a low whistle.

"Wow, who knew you were hiding all of this? Were you looking for husband tonight? This is the way to get it." He offered a hand, spinning you around so he (or rather Gavi) could get a full look, the blue bow in your hair flowing beautifully.

"You're too sweet, Pedri. I just didn't want to embarrass the club."

"Embarrass?!" They both exclaimed loudly, catching the attention of a few bystanders.

"You're on track to upstage us. They pay you enough to afford Prada?" Pedri asked again, pointing to your shoes.

"Your mortal enemy lent them to me."

A friend of Pedri's came up to whisk him away to another group, leaving you standing with Pablo.

"So, what do you think, Pablo? Too much?" You were nervous, resisting the urge to clench your dress in your fists and scurry off. You smoothed your clammy palms down the fabric as well.

"Doctora, you know I'm not super smart like you. I don't even know the words I want to tell you right now. So I'll use one I know: you look breathtaking." He practically whispered out the last word, causing your head to snap up, eyes meeting. "I think you might be the prettiest girl in the room right now." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, swallowing back his nerves and pride. You were absolutely stunning, and no friendship or professionalism would stop him from letting you know.

"Thank you, Pablo. You have no idea how much that means coming from you." You moved forward, adjusting his bowtie as an usher came to guide him to his seat. You moved to the back with other team staff members, waving to him as he walked off. You were independent and a girlboss and all that, but it felt good to have him think you were pretty.

"And the winner is... Gavi."

The crowd erupted in cheers, the clapping so loud it was deafening. Pedri smiled from ear to ear, watching as his friend came up to the stage to take his place as Europe's shining star, their Golden Boy. Gavi had been frozen in his seat for a second before Robert pushed him up, clapping him on the back and congradulating him. As he placed his hands around the trophy, his peripheral vision registered the people moving from their seats, standing and clapping for his success. Pedri was smug in his congratulations, reminding Pablo he never had a doubt he would be handing off this trophy to him. And as Pablo took his place at the podium, the gold statue adorning his side, he saw you. In the third to last row of the theater, you stood, by yourself in a row full of staff, clapping excitedly for his achievement. Your smile was bright, teeth on full display to convey the level of genuine joy you felt in that moment. You almost looked happier than Gavi himself. And as the applause died down and people retook their seats, he watched you sit back down, hands crossed over your chest in pride and admiration. He looked straight at you, a point of comfort in the large crowd, and only then did he allow the unbridled joy of being the very best to fill him.

"Thank you. I am so proud to have achieved this, to have won such a prestigious award in my first full season with Barca's first team. Thank you to my family for standing by me in the good times and the bad, and for believing in me. Thank you to the club, who gave me every opportunity to play and show my skill this season. A huge thanks to my coach and teammates for helping me succeed. And finally, I want to recognize and thank the Barca staff, especially the physio team, for all their hard work this season. I wouldn't be here without their dedication. Once again, thank you very much for the honor. Visca Barca."

All he wanted was to run off the stage into your arms, to ignore the questions about his season and his success, but there would be time later. You, on the other hand, were trying to recover from the shell shock of Pablo recognizing you specifically during his acceptance speech. Your phone buzzed in your lap at a mile a minute, text messages flooding in from friends and family telling you they had watched Gavi's praise of you on TV. You sat in that same shocked state until the ceremony ended.

Why on Earth did so many people want to talk to Gavi? Sure, he had just won one of the most important awards in football, but they had already played his highlight reel. What else could they want to know that wasn't on YouTube? He still smiled politely, congratulating Luka and Robert on their awards before he was able to catch a spare moment alone at a far table, Pedri pulling up to his side shortly after, also fatigued from small talk. His trophy was in hand, a little less shiny now that every person who greeted him had asked to hold it, the luster dulled by grease and fingerprints. The two stood in a comfortable silence, exchanging remarks about the room or the guests at the function every once in a while.

"Pablo! There you are!"

He looked up at the sound of your voice, but not nearly fast enough as you came barreling into him, arms thrown around his neck and embracing him so tight he thought he might pass out (not that he was complaining).

"I'm so, so proud of you." You whispered in his ear, squeezing a little tighter before releasing him, smoothing the soft material of his blazer to release the wrinkles you caused with your attack.

"I'm so glad all your hard work had amounted to this, and I hope I'm around to see how amazing you'll be in the future." You said, emotion making your voice crack slightly. There was something about Pablo that convinced you, deep in your soul, that you were two halves meant to come together. He was young, passionate, ambitious - a reflection of yourself. And to watch him succeed? To see him soar to heights previously thought impossible? It was something you wouldn't trade for the world.

Gavi's heartstrings were so tight they were ready to snap. He had prayed to hear so many different things from you, but never realized that this recognition, this pride expressed so freely, would be the most meaningful. This was it. This was the moment. Suit on, trophy in hand, this was the moment to express how much needed you in his life in a different way. How much he needed to keep making you proud.

"Y/N! There you are."

Joao's built arm was wrapped around you, smelling slightly of whiskey and Dior Fahrenheit. The anger vein in Gavi's forehead began to make a reappearance.

"Mason had to see you and introduce you to some of the boys." Mason greeted you as well, and called over his 'friend Jude' to be introduced. Jude Bellingham was an absolute sculpture, holding a glass of God knows what in such an effortless manner, his tie also abandoned in favor of leaving his first two buttons popped.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Jude. I've heard about you from this one - thinks you're a medical Godsend." He ended with a wink. Pedri could feel the heat radiating from Gavi's side, and apparently so could Jude, who looked up and offered a wave.

"Congrats, mate. Brilliant speech." He said, raising a glass to help bridge the language barrier. You turned your head, quickly translating the sentiment.

"Oh, you're with them? The super special physio that's gotten praised in his speech? I should've known I was in the presence of greatness." You laughed politely, tucking a loose strand of hair behind one ear.

"I'm really nothing special."

"Oh, well, that can't be true. I'll see for myself when I'm in SPain next year." A wink. Pedri grasped Pablo's arm to prevent blows. "Come with me, I want to introduce you to some of the boys and the staff from City."

You quickly turned around, finding Gavi and Pedri whispering to one another.

"Pablo! He wants to introduce me to some people. I'll come find you!"

Thirty minutes later, Pablo was at a table with his trophy and a scowl, moping on what should be a happy night. After his second turn around the room, Pedri joined him, hoping to alleviate the burden.

"Hermano, are you-"

"Why would she just go with him? Like, I understand not being able to turn someone away when they're in your face, but to go with him?! Why would she do that?" He asked, sounding more and more small and child-like as he continued.

"She was just networking, hermano. Trying to meet people and make connections."

"Connections. Look what her connections have got her. Other guys coming up to her, trying to flirt in the most obvious ways possible. None of them know her like I do. None of them will ever - can ever - care about her in the way that I do. She needs to realize that no one will ever want to treat her right the way that I long to."

"Maybe you need to realize that it's not always the best guy that will get the girl, but the boldest one."

"What?"

"How many opportunities have you had, hm? To tell her you wanted her, to profess your love, to kiss her in her car or under street lamps or in front of the whole world? But you just stay sitting on the sidelines waiting for her to come to you. You know what's happening during that time? A Joao or a Jude or a Martin is taking the risk of telling her she's amazing, and she's going to accept. She's going to accept love that's less than yours because someone else was willing to give it to her, proudly and confidently. And you'll be sitting next to me, twenty years from now when we're both retired, talking about how the love of your life slipped between your fingers. She's here, right now, and you are still waiting. Either take the shot or let someone else shoot."

A fear shot through Pablo that he had never felt before. The idea of you, right now, falling in love with someone else made the bile rise in his throat. He couldn't do it again. He couldn't watch you be with a man who thought you were anything less than the entire universe. It was him. Pablo Gavi was the one meant to have you, to hold you, to protect you from every evil and show you every joy. You were his soulmate, and he would move heaven and earth for his lover who was written for him in the stars.

He stood, scurrying to where Jude and the others had congregated. "Sorry to interrupt, but have you seen y/n?" He asked, trying to keep his voice steady and free from the terror threatening to consume him. He couldn't see your form anywhere in the ballroom.

"Oh," Kepa was the one to reply as the official Spanish speaker, "she went up to her room a few minutes ago. I think Joao took her up."

Pablo nodded before speed walking towards the door, breaking into a full sprint towards the elevators. Please. Please no. Please not Joao. Please not anyone. The ding when the elevator reached the third floor made his blood ripple, and he speed walked to your door, muttering under his breath.

"Please don't be in love with someone else."

He reached the door of your room, paralyzed with fear. He didn't know what he was about to do, but he knew he would implode and self-destruct if he didn't do something.

He lifted his fist, took a breath, and knocked firmly on the door. A moment later, you opened the door, still in the perfect shape he saw you before, but now barefoot on the plush carpet of the hotel.

"Pablo?"

He peered over your shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the room behind.

"Are you looking for something?"

"Please, tell me he's not in there."

"Who, Pablo?"

"Anyone. Please tell me that there is no one in there now waiting on you. Please tell me," he pleaded softly, moving toward you and placing his hands on your shoulder, moving one down to rest right above where your heart beat. "Please tell me there is no one else in here. I have never begged in my life, Doctora, but I'm here now to beg you: tell me who is the one you're reserving a place in your heart for. Because I know, more than I know anything else in this world, that my soul is yours. Everything I could possibly give, I am asking you to take it without a second thought. And I have pretended, for months now, that I don't need you like the very air I'm breathing. But the more I pretend, the more clear it becomes: I have never loved anything as strongly as I love you. It is overwhelming and all consuming the way every heartbeat and breath is just for you. So just tell me how long I will have to wait. Days, months, years - tell me how long it will be until I get to love you, wholly and completely. Until I get to love you as you deserve. Because there is no other choice. There is no moving on. Every angel in heaven knows that I would struggle in vain until my last dying breath trying to get over you."

There were no words. Hell, there was no air. There was only Pablo, breathless and shaking before you, his fragile heart in your hands. Your hands moved to cup his face, and the urge to cry didn't consume you. You pulled him in, lips finally connecting with his, and the electricity that jolted through you could have lit up all of Paris. His lips were slow to react, and as you pulled away he followed, reluctant to stop kissing you in fear he would never start again.

"You, Pablo. My heart is yours. I'm yours. I always have been."

This time it was Pablo who pulled you in, his arms around your waist lifting you into him. He basked in the plump flesh of your lips, the way it felt to hold you in his arms, a million times better than he could have imagined. It was as if your hearts were racing in sync, thumping the same beat that reverberated around the little bubble the two of you were in. You shifted hands from his face to his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. You had craved this, to be so close and connected with Pablo. The kiss was slow, passionate, the kiss to say 'I have waited for you for so long' and the one in return to say 'I'm here to stay'.

Pedri had gone upstairs to look for Pablo, scared he had committed manslaughter, and found the two of you there, kissing in the hallway, arms enveloping each other and lips locked in a soft and tender embrace. He placed Pablo's trophy (his whole reason for finding him on the ground, turning to leave before stopping and performing his duties as a friend: taking a picture. Maybe he should buy Gavi a whole pack of frames.

You finally pulled away, face flushed and lips pinkish and swollen from the liplock. You kept your arms around Pablo, turning your face to hide in his shoulder. You spotted the golden statue on the floor and smiled as you moved to pick it up, stopped by his strong and unfaltering embrace.

"Your award, Pablo."

"You're my real prize of this evening."

"Ugh how corny." You laughed, finally freeing yourself to go and pick it up. You carried it before turning from Pablo to unlock your room door, timidly standing in the entryway.

"Do... you want to come inside?" You asked, cradling his trophy in your arms.

"Do you want me to come inside?" He asked, heart threatening to break his sternum. He had never thought of going so far so fast.

"I mean if you don't want to-"

"No I want to, preciosa. God I want- but I don't want to make you feel like you have to."

"You're not. I want you Pablo. All of you." You opened the door wider, inviting him in. "Dale, campeon."

You left Pablo on the bed while you went to slip out of your dress. As much as you wanted Pablo (in an immediate fashion), you couldn't risk stains or rips on such an expensive lended piece. You re-emerged from the bathroom in a black night gown, a satin slip that came just past your fingertips. Pablo had made himself comfortable, stripping his jacket and shoes, abandoning the bowtie and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. You walked out slowly, standing in front of him shyly.

"What do you think?" You asked, giving a little spin. He reached out a hand, pulling you down to the bed and seating you on his lap.

"I lied before," he said softly. "You weren't 'maybe the prettiest girl tonight'. You're the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. In every room and on every night." His hands found your hips and his lips found yours, and the flames were fanned. He moved with a fervor you had never experienced, like he couldn't get enough of the feel of your lips or the taste of your tongue. He bit down softly on your bottom lip, desperate to illicit every pretty sound he could from you. He nibbled gently, pulling with his teeth and then soothing with his tongue before reuniting it with yours. He gripped the flesh of your hips, and your hands leg his lower, encouraging him to find stability on the flesh of your ass.

"You're perfect." He said breathlessly, moving to kiss and nibble at your neck. You shifted on his lap, desperate for any friction to help douse the flames between your legs. He shifted the two of you so that you were straddling one of his thighs, allowing you rock yourself back and forth as he continued worshipping and lapping at your skin.

"Pablo, it's so good." You whined as he moved down to kiss the exposed tops of your breasts. He looked up at you, asking for permission to remove your nightgown, which you gave with quick enthusiasm. He grabbed at the bottom hem, lifting it over your head in one fluid motion before stopping. He stared at you, moving across your bare chest and down to your nude lace thong.

"Oh this won't do." He muttered while gripping your waist and flipping your positions so that you were laying on the mattress with him above you.

"What?" You asked while your arms moved to cover your chest. He removed them swiftly, licking his lips and giving each breast a kiss, making your nipples harden.

"I need to have you spread out underneath me so I can take in every gorgeous inch of you." He said before he trailed his lips down your entire torso.

"Can't believe someone who looks like you is all mine. I've wanted you for so long." He finished his sentence with a searing kiss to your lips.

"Just wanted you to see how much someone could love you. And I would still love you, even if you want to stop right now and never do this again." He said, pulling back slightly before you threaded your fingers through his hair and brought his mouth to your chest.

"No, don't wanna stop. I want you. I need you Pablo please." You whine out, and hoped he knew that you meant it in every possible way. He allowed his tongue to drag across your nipples before sucking one into his mouth, playing with the other as he watched for your reactions. His cock was straining against his boxers and dress pants, and he rutted against the mattress for any sort of relief.

"Pablo it's too good."

"Always want to be good for you, Doctora. Wanna give you the best."

He moved his hands to the waistband of your panties, moving them down and watching the resistance, seeing how big the wet patch was and how your thighs clenched for some sort of pleasure.

"Open up, pretty girl."

"Pablo, want you. Want you please."

"I'm right here, baby. All yours."

You grabbed on of his hands sucking two of his fingers in his mouth while keeping your eyes locked, tongue circling and his cock now rubbing up on the flesh of your thigh.

"Want you inside me. Please, Pablo."

He rubbed his two wet fingers up and down your slit, teasing and just listening to the way you reacted. The cool air heightened everything, and you could do nothing but squirm in place.

"Love the way you say my name, preciosa. Let me take care of you." He slipped a finger inside, and you both moaned in sync. You at the feeling of finally having Pablo pleasing you, and him at the wetness he encountered. He quickly put in another, lips going back to yours as if they were addictive. He leaned back, slipping out of his trousers and boxers when you put a hand on his chest.

"Pablo. I..."

"We can stop if you want." He said, already making a move to get up and redress despite his cock leaking.

"No. I want this. I want you. I just... promise me something?"

"Anything."

"Please don't leave me after we have sex."

He looked at your hurting eyes and felt his chest squeeze. He cupped your face, kissing your forehead. "I could never leave you, Doctora." Another chaste kiss, this time to the tip of your nose. "You don't have to worry. I'll always be with you. I promise." He brought you in and kissed you, lips slotting together and tongues dancing together as if they had years of practice.

"Always have to seal the promise with a kiss." He said playfully, and you looked away in embarrassment. He spread your legs and found a space between them, tilting your head with a finger under your chin.

"Look at me baby. I want to see that pretty face when I make you feel good. Wanna see how hot you are when you cum all over me. Make the cutest little mess." He said, spitting in his hand slightly and rubbing the length of his cock. You sat up on your forearms, watching the erotic sight as Pablo ran his tip up and down your slit.

"Pablo," you whined.

He lined himself up, lifting you by the back of the neck to kiss you as he pushed in, the stretch causing you to bite his bottom lip harder than expected (he kind of liked it). He stayed for a minute on his forearms above you, hoping that time would allow you to adjust and prevent him from busting on stroke three. He placed his arms beside your head, leaning down and resting his forehead on yours.

"I love you." He said, picking up his pace as he did so. Your whine was high pitched and loud, fueling Pablo's ego tremendously.

"I love you more." You retorted, moving your hips to spur him to go faster. He pulled out of your slowly once again, then re-sheathed himself with force. He was moving slow and taking his sweet time, savoring every delicious second of the evening.

"Not possible, angel." And then pulled all the way out before slamming back in. Pablo was forceful, shifting your body with every thrust. He kissed your lips and neck, purple springs blooming from each spot he touched. You loved the feeling. You belonged to him, body and soul, and you wanted everybody to know.

"Please, Pablo. Faster. I'm begging." You breathed out, and he could do nothing but oblige.

"That's my pretty girl, taking it so well. Feeling so fucking good wrapped around me. So wet and sucking me in. Fuck. You're so good for me."

You had decided to suck on Pablo's neck to prevent you from moaning your heart out to all of Paris. A large hickey was developing just above his collarbone with not one care towards its ability to be covered. You were feeling that familiar buildup in your stomach, and brought a hand down to play with your clit that was quickly swatted away.

"Gonna cum, baby? Let me spoil you. Let me take care of you." He said as he pressed his thumb to your clit and started rubbing circles into the sensitive bud. There was no more suppressing your moans as they emerged full force. It was perfect. Pablo was perfect, telling you how much he wanted and loved you while looking after your pleasure.

"Please don't stop Pablo I'm so so fucking close."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He said, and seconds later, his name was the only thing on your lips as you came, gripping onto his back and trailing your nails down, his toned back the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. He finished a minute after you, rolling over in exhaustion. You expected him to turn onto his side and ignore you like every other man you had slept with. Instead, he got you both under the comforter, laying down and bringing you to lay on his chest.

"You're so incredible, do you know that?" He asked, kissing your forehead gently.

"You're one to talk." There's giggles and comfort despite the lack of clothes. When the high dies down, you turn to his tired form, which is still smiling at you.

"What are you so smiley for?" You asked.

"I'm with the best person in the world. How can I not smile when I'm with you?"

You laid back on his chest, guilt and paranoia seeping in, obvious by the tension building in your form.

"I love you, Doctora. I love you, I love you, I love you. You are worth more than sex. And I don't love you just because you're hot. You complete me, in every possible way."

"I love you more, Pablo."

"As the medical professional, you should know that's not possible."

He released you from his grip to get shirts and underwear for the two of you to sleep in, still not used to Pablo + you + nudity. You laid back down, cuddled into Pablo's chest as you had for months now, and drifted off into the most relaxing sleep. You were in love with a boy. And he was hopelessly, desperately in love with you. And there was nothing else in the world that mattered in this moment except for the way you tangled together to feel safe. Before he could drift off, Pablo heard the ding of his phone. A photo from Pedri of the two of you in the hall.

[Pedri]: congrats on all your wins today hermano

The flight back to Barcelona was nerve-racking for you. You were anxious as to how your boss and peers would perceive your new relationship with Pablo, which he established right away.

"No 'what are we' bullshit'. You're my girlfriend, and that's only because I didn't have a ring on me to make you my fiancee."

His hand was laced through yours the entire walk through the terminal, so proud to show you off to the world as his. As you two boarded the flight, it was Anna who finally asked if something had happened in Paris.

"I asked her to be my girl and she said yes."

There was a round of cheering from those on the plane, and after a swift whatsapp message from Pedri, there were hundreds of messages in the groupchat, from congrats to jokes to utter disbelief. Neither of you looked at any of it. Pablo was too busy counting the stars he saw in your eyes, studying every feature on your face, sneaking in a kiss whenever he could. And you listened to him ramble, intoxicated by the sound of his voice, the melody bringing you tranquility. He was your peace. He was your everything.

"Ah, so you two will be needing these." Xavi said, placing the 'Relationship Disclosure' form and two pens in front of the both of you. "Gavi, don't distract her from her work."

"Hey! Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"No. You're the distraction." You teased, earning Pablo's full attention and wrath.

"I can tell by the way you've been staring at me for two days."

"Oh Pablo, I've been staring at you much longer than that."

"I hope you never stop."

A/N: and there it is folks. Almost 8 months later, here is Just Pretend. There will be an epilogue to this at some point to show what happens with their relationship (and it will have better smut), but this is it for the main story. Please share any feedback you have in replies, reblogs, or in the ask box. Thank you so so much to everyone who has stuck by this story for so long. I love you all.

*~*Taglist*~*

@l0verl4ne @vibinwkay @anastasia-nova @mxgvmiii @mads-grace4 @bubblebeep69 @katluckybear @scuderiabarca @alwaysclassyeagle @simpingmyassoff @grlwithprblms @lqvesoph @pink-manz @graziemille @xxenia14 @nngkay @icedlattewithextracaramel @gyusrose @vip-access @julianalvarez9 @lavie3nrose @ge0rg1ewaa @i8yul @lovefordilfs271 @remuslupinluver @thattaylorswiftobsessedbitch @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @kaismybabe @notanenthucutlet @fullsun9890 @venomwh0re @renaissancewhxre @gaviandgrizisgirl @altgojo @urmomdotcom5678 @eliseline @invidia-of-alhambra @pixwls @stell4rrrs @80sloverry @car1no-xx @mrsgavira @888bear @kylianmbappee @ivyhrry @gaviypedrisbride @grlwithprblms @dessxoxsworld @user6373738 @sideeblogsstuff @halaxxx @berriesaren

565 notes · View notes

lovelettersfromluna · 1 year

Text

You mystify me {Ellie Williams X Reader}

Summary: A new family moves in down the street from Joel, and Ellie just so happens to be home for the holidays. What better way to welcome the newbies than to drag his daughter to their house with a half burnt pie?

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, drug use (marijuana), afab reader, Ellie is horrible with feelings, slight angst if you squint?, Ellie is in college, fingering (r! receiving), scissoring, let me know if I missed anything pleaseee.

an: Hello angels! Welcome to my very first post, it's so nice to have you here. I will admit, I've been going back and forth with my first fic for quite a while now, but I think this may be the one. I don't mention any specific body types/skin tones/eye colors/hair colors/hair types, just to ensure that its inclusive for everyone to insert themselves into. I truly hope you all enjoy, and please feel free to give any tips or pointers for things you'd like to see change for the future. Love, Luna. p.s Happy Pride Month!!!

Word count: 6.7 k

Ellie hated the holidays.

She didn't want to sound miserable, or ungrateful, but she hated everything that came with it. She preferred times like summer or spring, where she could just go home for the break without having anything she needed to be there for. Those times meant she could just lounge around in her childhood home until her dad got home, and they could watch football and drink beers until they both passed out on the couch. No stupid holiday events to attend, no painstakingly long dinners to go to, it could just be them, with no distractions.

But no, the holidays made it painfully aware that those dreams were but a far off memory that she couldn't have for the next five months.

She was home for Thanksgiving break, back pressed up against the soft sheets of her childhood bed as she faced the ceiling, her eyes closed as she inhaled deeply. If she wasn't so miserable over the fact that she was in fact home for the holidays, the scent of warm apples and cinnamon would have caught her attention.

Wait...apples? Cinnamon?

She frowned as she sat up, her soft brown locks brushing against her forehead and cheek bones as she shifted a bit. The kitchen at her dads place went pretty much untouched, seeing that neither of them were great in the kitchen at all. Ellie was raised off of cheap takeout and boxed Mac and cheese, and truthfully she wouldn't have it any other way.

Ellie got up with a low sigh, adjusting the grey hoodie that hung on her skinny frame before she made her way downstairs to the kitchen. The old floorboards creaked underneath her sock clad feet, reminding her of all the times she'd slipped and fallen on the godforsaken floor before.

When she got downstairs, the image of Joel in an apron made her furrow her eyebrows in confusion. He was mixing something in a bowl, his narrowed eyes darting back and forth between the oven and a small timer he had placed next to him on the counter. The sound of the floor creaking caught his attention, and his head shot over towards the direction of his daughter.

"Was just about t'call you down here...need your help with this..uh..." He groaned softly as he motioned towards the cook book he had propped up against another spare bowl he had.

Ellie snorted softly as she pushed herself off of the wall she was leaned up against, watching her father struggle in amusement before she hummed, bringing her attention to the cook book. She squinted a bit as she leaned in, eyebrows furrowing, looking far too similar to her farther before she nodded.

"Apple pie?....Since when do you bake old man?" She teased gently, looking down into the bowl he was mixing. She had to admit, whatever he was working on didn't look half bad. She wasn't exactly an expert, but she had gotten stuck on the cooking channel far too many times when she was too high out of her mind to switch it to something else, and whatever her dad was working on looked....like he was doing something right.

"I don't....not usually at least..." He grumbled out softly, giving the contents in the bowl one last good mix before he squinted at the cook book once again, sighing before he placed the bowl down. He gave the timer one last look before he walked over to the oven, opening it and pulling out the golden pie crust.

"Need you to go and get dressed, you and I are going out" His eyes are focused on pouring the contents into the pie crust, which Ellie had figured out was in deed the pie filling. Ellie frowned as she watched her father work on the pastry, her arms crossed over her chest as her eyes darted up to look at him.

"What? I thought...I thought we didn't have anything to do this week. We were supposed to watch the game tonight, remember?" She practically whined out, sounding far too much like a small child who was not getting their way. This made Joel chuckle softly, because for a moment it reminded him of Ellie when she was much younger, his little soldier.

"Didn't say we weren't watchin' the game kid...just not watchin' it here" He hummed out before he finished filling the pie, and pushed it back into the oven. He took his apron off, hanging it on the handle of the pantry door as he began cleaning up the monstrosity in the kitchen that had came about through his adventures with baking.

Ellie on the other hand, was fuming.

She had a strict 24 hour warning policy before she had to go anywhere, and it was especially important for this policy to be withheld during the holidays. She needed time to prepare, to put herself in the headspace of socializing for the night before actually doing so. It was like she had to charge up her social battery longer than usual for things like this, and it sort of hurt her feelings to think that her dad would disregard that.

Especially when she was under the impression that he felt the exact same way that she did in instances like this.

But instead, he was happily baking a pie for god knows what, with his silly little apron as if he were Martha Stewart herself, and to be quite honest, Ellie was a little pissed off.

She let out an annoyed huff as she circled around Joel, who was leaned up against the sink washing the last set of mixing bowls and measuring cups. She stared at him with pleading eyes, as if begging him to cancel on the ominous force that was pushing them out of their home for the night.

"But you never even said anything about leaving tonight...I...Im not going to Shirley's house again. Her kids look like they fucking bite and her food sucks" She breathed out, causing Joel to laugh softly.

'No. no...I know you're not too fond of her El...." He hummed softly as he turned off the sink, grabbing a nearby towel and drying his hands. He began walking off to his bedroom, to which Ellie promptly followed behind, clearly not done with her whining.

"Then where are we going?" Ellie asked once again, the tall girl leaned up against the entrance door to her fathers bedroom as he disappeared in his closet, most likely changing into a suitable flannel shirt for whoever it was that they so desperately needed to visit for the night. "We've got new neighbors down the street...caught em' movin in when I was comin' home from work last week"

Joel's words made Ellie frown even further, and her eyes trained on him as he moved around the room, grabbing different things from his dresser before moving to the bathroom to continue getting ready. "And? What does that have to do with us"

A low sigh could be heard from the bathroom, the tone in Ellie's voice already letting Joel know that she would not be letting this go without a fight. "It's nice to be neighborly, kid. Plus, it's the holidays....least we can do is bring them somethin' nice". His words were a bit muffled by the towel he pushed up against his face, most likely freshening up a bit. Ellie rolled her eyes, pushing herself off of his door. She was annoyed, she wanted to spend time with her dad, and not some strangers. She knew that moments with him during the fall and winter months were sparse, so she looked forward to them more than she did usually.

She knew there was nothing she could do to convince him to cancel, or to even avoid all of the formalities and let her deliver the pie. And by deliver, she would most definitely drop it at their door step with a sticky note that read "From Joel and Ellie down the street", a sorry excuse of a welcome, but enough so to get the message through to them.

So, she simply turned around and shrugged her hoodie off, stomping her feet against the wooden stairs a bit too loud for comfort to change into something a bit more sensible.

"Your pie is burning by the way" She called out before she slammed her door and promptly began rummaging through her messy closet for clothes.

And thats how they ended up here, at your doorstep with a half burnt pie held between Joel's old, scarred hands. They didn't leave without a small argument, Joel scolding Ellie for giving him a hard time, complaining that she was the one that made him screw up his timer. Ellie would never admit it, but she secretly hoped it would push her dad to cancel last minute.

But it didn't, and she was standing next to him with her fists shoved in her pockets. The fall air had been growing colder and colder with each passing day, and her mouth was already opening to let out another string of complaints to her father about how "fucking cold" it was and that this was "really stupid".

But before she could, you were opening the door. A bright smile splayed across your plush lips that were painted the prettiest deep berry shade. You're shirt was the exact same color, a corset style top that hugged your mid section perfectly, black lace peaking out at the edge of it near your hips and at the top of your cleavage, a simple pair of blue jeans that hugged your hips and ass deliciously, and a tiny blood red heart hung on a thin chain that was around your neck, falling right between your soft tits.

Ellie blinked a few times as she stared down at you, her throat practically closing up, any slick complaints she had ready to fire at her father had died down the second she laid eyes on you. She couldn't stop her eyes from shamelessly traveling down your body, taking in every aspect of your outfit, which caused her cheeks to burn red.

A soft gasp from your lips cut right through her racing thoughts, and you were looking down at the pie that Joel held. "Mr. Miller, I didn't know you baked. This looks amazing!". Despite the state of the pie, you words were genuine, quickly taking the pie from the man and stepping aside so the both of them could step in.

"Your dad mentioned you liked apples...had a few I needed to get rid of....where is he by the way?" Joel mentioned casually, a low chuckle leaving his lips as he thought about the fact that he did in fact make a specific grocery trip just for all of the ingredients for the pie in the first place. He shrugged his coat off, to which you quickly put the pie down in the kitchen before rushing back to the both of them.

You took Joel's coat from him before having it up on the rack. "He's trying to fix a light in the living room, he might actually need your help" You sighed out, watching as Joel nodded before giving Ellie a look, silently urging the girl to introduce herself before he set off to find your father.

You gave her a sweet smile, extending your hand for hers as you gave her your name. "You must be Ellie, my dad said Joel mentioned you when they met the other day. Im really glad you came"

Ellie froze as she looked down at your manicured hand. Your nails were black, and short, painted almost perfectly, a few rings perched on some of your fingers. She swallowed nervously, nodding slowly before she brought a cold hand up to shake yours. "Yeah...yeah im Ellie..." She mumbled out, hating how fucking good your warm hand felt wrapped around your smaller one.

You furrowed your eyebrows a bit at her strange behavior before you nodded slowly, letting go of your hand as she began shrugging off her brown leather jacket. You smiled sweetly, stepping closer to her as you held your hands out for it "Here, I can take that".

Ellie looked down at your hands before looking back into your eyes, her breath hitching in her throat before she nodded slowly, shrugging off her jacket and handing it to you. You gave her a reassuring smile as you hung it up, her eyes following you the entire time shamelessly.

"I don't know about yours, but my dad hasn't stopped talking about you guys coming over all week. I was really happy when he told me Mr. Miller had a daughter, I'd be miserable if I had to listen to them talk about building a deck or mowing the lawn" You huffed out, smoothing down the leather of Ellie's jacket as you hung it up. You turned around, giving her a smile before you nodded your head towards the kitchen, "Well, we might as well head in there, not that they notice us being gone, they were outside for almost an hour when we were moving in" You giggled softly at the memory, trying to ease some of the tension in the air.

Ellie on the other hand, didn't want you to stop talking. The sweet melody of your voice was making her forget all about the irritating rage that was screaming for attention in the back of her head, counting down the minutes until she could leave your house. Now, it was like she couldn't get enough of being in your warm home.

"Tell me about it, he spent the entire afternoon on that damn pie" She sighed out, her hands taking their usual spot in her pockets. You giggled softly, making Ellie's chest burn with pride.

"Is it just you and your dad by the way?" Ellie asked softly as she looked around in your home, looking for any trace of information that revealed any other family members that you may have. You nodded your head as you began walking to the kitchen slowly, leading her behind you.

"Yep. My mom left when I was a baby, so it's been him and I for as long as I can remember" You nodded to yourself, thinking back to your childhood growing up with a single dad. Ellie couldn't ignore the wave of panic wash over her when it began settling in. You were living there now, right down the street from her. You weren't just a hot girl that she could embarrass herself in front of one time and then never have to see again, you were permanent.

Your conversation was cut short once both Joel and your dad caught sight of the both of you walking into the dim kitchen. "There you are, thought you two got lost", your fathers words made you giggle, and you shook your head as you made your way into the kitchen. "Just getting to know Ellie, dad. You had your turn getting to know Mr. Miller, remember?" You teased playfully as you pulled out various dishes from the oven that you had been keeping warm.

Ellie watched as you moved everything to the table, her eyes going wide at just how much you were putting out for them. "Did you make all of this?" She asked quietly in disbelief, to which you nodded with a shy smile on your lips.

Your dad and Joel moved to stand in the kitchen near Ellie, "She takes care of all the cooking, no matter how much I try and help" Your dad chuckled softly, causing you to roll your eyes a bit. "You're just no good at it dad...plus, I don't mind it" You hummed softly as you set the table, stepping back and making sure the placements were enough before you nodded to yourself. "if you two are done talking light bulbs, we can eat".

Ellie couldn't believe she was admitting it, but dinner went well.

She spent the entire night quietly munching on your delicious food, and watching you. Her heart would beat a little bit faster every time you noticed, and gave her a sweet smile, which made her brain short circuit for a few minutes before she smiled back. Both her dad and your dad went back and forth all night about work, their latest projects, and bragging about the both of you.

"Ellie does great in school, she's just started her second year over at UEC" Joel casually bragged, causing Ellie to groan softly. She hated when he did it, regardless of the fact that she knew it came from a place of love. He was always eager to gloat about how smart his daughter is, how much she had achieved and how proud of her he was for it.

Your father raised his eyebrows at Joel's words, the excited expression written all over your pretty face too clear to go unnoticed. "No way, I start my first year in the spring" You smiled excitedly, to which Joel gave Ellie a gentle nudge.

"Would'a look at that, you'll have to show her around, won't you Ellie?". Ellie licked her lips, cracking a half smile as she gave a slight nod, allowing the rest of you to fall into friendly conversation. The familiar sense of panic settling in on her again. Not only would she have to see you every time she was at her dads house, but you would also be fluttering your way around campus. She could only hope she would be able to fly under your radar at least a little bit.

Once you were all finished with dinner, both your dad and Joel had made their way onto the back porch after you had shooed them out of the kitchen, insisting that you and Ellie had everything handled. That's how you found yourself in your current situation, which was Ellie drying the washed dishes, and handing them to you so you could put them away to their correct spots.

"So, how do you like UEC?" You hummed softly as you pushed the last plate into the cupboard. Ellie raised her eyebrows at your question, drying her hands with the towel she had before she hung it on a nearby rack. "UEC is good....pretty chill if you ask me....although im not the greatest person to ask. I only really go to and from class before going back to my apartment and crashing" She mumbled out all too truthfully, which caused you to giggle. "I feel you...im honestly not looking forward to picking up after the break and moving into my apartment."

Your words set off a lightbulb in Ellies head, and before she could even stop herself, she was speaking again. "I could help you move in if you want...Im pretty good with...boxes" She mentally kicked herself for how fucking awkward she sounded, but the excited twinkle in your eye made up for it.

"Really? I mean...you seriously don't have to but...it would mean the world if you did". The soft tone of your voice had her practically swooning, her tongue darting out to lick her lips before she gave you a firm nod. "Yeah, yeah...it's no problem at all. It'll problem even get me out of holiday stuff anyways so...more than happy to" She breathed out.

You smiled excitedly, nodding quickly before you were pulling your phone out of your back pocket, and pushing it towards her. "Here, put your number in. We could hang out or something before break is over". You gave her a reassuring nod before gently pushing your phone towards her once more. Ellie didn't hesitate to type her number in and save it for you.

And no more than a week later, you two were texting every day. Ellie truly could not remember the last time she had been so obsessive with texting someone, the girl always leaving her phone on her bed for hours and ignoring almost every notification that came through to it, either too lazy or too tired to give it any attention.

But now, now she couldn't go ten minutes without rushing to her phone to see if you were messaging her back. Either replying to the stupid TikTok you sent her, or asking her opinion on what outfit you were wearing that day, her phone was glued to her hand. Joel picked up on it rather quickly, the usual whining and huffing that emitted from his daughter every time they had to go somewhere had come to an end, her phone pacifying her completely. He had asked about it one day, curious as to what it was exactly that had her so enamored practically overnight. He received a small mumble of your name, to which her simply smirked and never asked again.

It was another boring Tuesday morning at home, Ellie lounging around her house while her dad was at work, texting you of course. She whistled to herself as she finished making her coffee, until the familiar ding of her phone caught her attention.

ellieeeeee

hm?

whatcha doin today loser

She caught herself smiling softly at your messages far too often

nothin, dad's at work. wbu?

hmmm mine too

wanna come over nd smoke?

Ellie felt herself freeze once she read over your message. In fact, she found herself reading it once, twice, three times, just to make sure she was reading it correctly. It had already been a week since she had been at your house for dinner, and not a day had gone by where she didn't think about you, but she was ashamed to admit that she had been avoiding seeing you in person. She had done a great job so far, finding easy ways to circle around your attempts at bringing it up, but this had been the first time that you outright asked, and she was freaking the fuck out.

And fuck, it wasn't even because she didn't want to, of course she wanted you. She had bee texting you every day since she met you, it was just that...Ellie became so fucking stupid around pretty girls, she always did. She preferred to avoid it if it wasn't in a party setting where it was easy to pretend she was someone she wasn't. But she would be with you, in your home, in your room, and it was pretty damn hard to pretend when it was that....close.

um or not

if ur busy its okay dont worry :P

The next string of messages that came from your end had her panicking, and she knew if she was going to make a decision, she had to make it quick. She inhaled deeply, her thumbs still hovering over the screen of her phone, before she began typing.

nah sorry

not busy today

I can come over now?

plsssss

come come

Ellie let out the breath she had been holding, the air coming out as a loud exhale once she read your responses. She sighed, looking at the time on her phone before she groaned, peeling her body off of the counter and making her way upstairs to get dressed.

Before she knew it, Ellie was at your door.

Her tattooed hand rapped at your door, inhaling the cold air deeply as she promptly brought her hand back to the warm pocket of her jacket. She sighed out, looking down at the little 'welcome' mat that she stood on. She was positive any homey touches were of your doing, and something about that made the corner of her lips tug into a small smile.

When you opened the door, the warmth of your home was wafting onto her freckled face, causing her to audibly sigh in relief. You smiled excitedly up at her, face far too happy and fresh to belong to someone who had been texting Ellie up into the wee hours of the night prior. You quickly grabbed her arm, tugging her inside and out of the cold before you closed the door behind her.

You exchanged little words, eagerly pulling her jacket off and putting it on the same rack that you had the last time she was there. She chuckled softly, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. "Woah, slow down...your practically bouncing off the walls" She chuckled out, which prompted you to huff softly.

"Are you kidding me? You're the first person im hanging out with that isn't my father, you're lucky im not jumping your bones right now" You giggled softly.

Ellie was secretly hoping that you would.

You gave her a moment to gather herself before your hand was wrapping around her wrist and dragging her up to your bedroom, your lips going a mile a minute about all the things you wanted to do with the day that you would be spending with her.

Your room looks exactly like Ellie imagined it would.

She figures that deep, maroon, berry shade might be your favorite, because it's everywhere. It's the color of your sheets, and your curtains, and you managed to only choose band posters that matched with that dark aesthetic as well. Your room smells like you, like vanilla and violets, mixed with the strawberry candle that you had burning. Its warm, and inviting, and it feels like you.

Ellie finds that it's her new favorite scent.

You hummed softly as you crawled onto your bed, turning around so you were laying with your back against your pretty pillows. Ellie thinks she's died and gone to heaven at that point, because your hair looks so pretty splayed underneath you, and your eyes look so dreamy looking up at her, and your cotton shorts are hugging your thighs so well, and-

She realizes you're talking to her, and she hasn't heard a word you've said, because she is gawking at you.

"Huh?"

You giggled softly as you sat up, crawling over to the edge of your bed and grabbing a black box with dark red roses and tiny stars painted all over it. You pull out a neatly rolled blunt, which is of course rolled with none other than rose petals. She laughs, watching in awe as you bring it to your lips, perching it between them before cupping your hand around it, and lighting the end.

Ellie doesn't think she's ever been more jealous of a fucking blunt before.

You sighed softly, crawling over to your window and opening it up before you blew the smoke out, passing the blunt to her before you moved back to your spot on the bed.

"I said, come sit with me. You look like you're gonna cry" You giggled softly, smiling once she took the blunt from your fingers.

She stared down at the girly looking joint, sighing as she shook her head.

She brought it to her lips, taking a deep inhale before she moved to lay next to you on the bed. The heat filling her lungs cleared her head, and in an instant she was already feeling more comfortable around you, less scared of the fact that you'd think she was a fucking pervert or something.

"Girliest fucking blunt I've ever seen man..." She breathe out, smoke clouding her features as she blew out. You scrunched her nose at her words, taking it back and bringing it to your lips. "S'not girly...just..tastes better than regular papers...plus, its way better for you" You nodded to yourself, moving up the pillow and getting in a comfortable spot next to Ellie.

Ellie rolled her eyes, taking it back from you as you both feel into a comfortable conversation.

Ellie isn't totally sure when it happens, but within an hour, you're both high out of your minds.

You were a giggling mess, finding anything that left Ellies lips to be comedic gold. Your legs were splayed over hers, and she had her hand on your thigh, massaging and squeezing the skin ever so often. You'd be lying if you said it didn't feel good, her hands were so warm, and so big, you wanted them all over you.

Once your laughter died down, you hummed softly. Your hazy eyes traced her features, heart fluttering at how fucking pretty Ellie was. It was clear to you that she was pretty when you first saw her, but her hands on your thighs, and the fact that she was sitting on your bed, looking good enough to fucking eat, it was smacking you right in the face.

Your hands traced her tattoo gently, fingertips leaving feathery touches on her skin. “This is pretty…when d’you get it done?” You hummed out, scooting a bit closer to her.

Ellie hummed softly, welcoming your new position closer to her as she let you position your legs closer on her own. “My ex did it for me like a year or two ago..”. The squeeze on your thigh had your heart fluttering, a soft hum leaving your lips as you continued tracing along the intricate patterns of her tattoo.

"You still talk to them?" Your words were breathy, sounding desperate and needy in your head. To Ellie, you sounded dreamy. Your words were light an airy, and she found herself counting down the seconds until you'd speak again, wanting so badly to hear those pretty words fall from your pretty lips.

She shook her head, her eyes focused on the way your lips were swelling up from how often you bit them. "Not anymore...not talking to anyone right now.." she hummed out, giving your thigh another squeeze.

She felt like she had to let you know that there was no one on her mind right now, not when she was in your room, with your legs splayed over hers, squeezing your thighs with every word that she spoke.

Your eyes twinkled a bit as you stared up a her, swallowing down the whine that was stuck in your throat. Your thighs were on fire underneath her long fingers, your mind clouded with a thick fog that made it hard to see past any better judgment. Ellie was in your bed, touching you and making you feel so nice, and she was telling you that she wasn't talking to anyone.

The cloud fogging your brain wasn't thick enough to distract you from how badly you wanted Ellie, your teeth nearly broke the skin of your lips with how much you were biting down into them, the overwhelming need for the girl nagging at your brain with every passing second.

You decided you didn't want to ignore it anymore.

Without another thought, you were crawling onto Ellies lap, your thighs straddling her waist as you pressed your chest against hers. Ellie let out a shaky breath once she noticed that you were moving, fully expecting you to get up and go to the bathroom or something, and not at all to settle your ass against her lap. Despite her surprise, her hands immediately went to rest on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze as she stared into your eyes.

"Fuck..." She breathed out your name, her words coming out mumbled as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. You let out a soft sigh, your fingers going to her neck to toy with the soft ends of her hair as you stared at her lips.

"Is this...okay?" Your words were so soft, barely above a whisper. Ellie felt her core throb at your tone, wanting nothing more than to wreck you completely, turning you into a babbling mess underneath her. Her nod was eager, probably too eager but she didn't have enough in her to even care at that point. Her hands were pulling you closer to her body, desperate to feel more of you. "Fuck...yeah...yeah this is more than okay...Jesus..." She mumbled out quietly, causing you to giggle.

You nodded, humming softly as you studied her face. It was nice to see her this close, taking in all of her little freckles, the little wrinkle in her forehead, you were close enough to even hear the way her breath quickened with you perched on her lap. "Can I kiss you Ellie?..." Once again, your words were soft, and gentle.

Ellie felt like she was going to lose her fucking mind.

She let out a low groan before her lips were pressing against yours, a soft moan leaving your mouth once you finally felt her against you. The kiss was needy, and heavy, and messy and breathy, and it was everything Ellie wanted from you. You simply let her in, letting her kiss you however she wanted, touch you however she wanted, and that stirred something deep inside of Ellie.

Your little whines and whimpers egged her on to do more, touch you more, feel you more. Her long fingers were slipping underneath your t shirt, massaging the skin of your hips as she pulled you in closer. The sounds that bounced off the walls of your bedroom were filthy, low groans and moans and Ellie, breathy little whines from you, and the wet sound of you tongues rubbing together all came together to make the sweetest symphony that was strictly for the two of you.

Your thin shirt did a terrible job at keep your hard nipples discreet. Ellie moaned at the way your tits felt pressed up against hers, and it made her want more.

She broke the kiss, her breath heavy as she pulled your t shirt over your head, and tossed it somewhere else within your room. She sucked in a harsh breath once she caught sight of your pebbled nipples. She immediately pushed you back to lay down, slotting herself between your legs before her wet mouth was wrapped around one of your nipples, and her other hand was rolling the other between her fingers.

Your mind was fuzzy, and she was making you feel so fucking warm. The feeling of her skilled mouth flicking your nipple back and forth with her tongue made all of the blood in your body rush to your core, your pussy throbbing underneath the constraints of your shorts. You whined, your hips moving against her body, desperately searching for some form of friction as your hands came up to thread in her soft hair.

"F-fuck...Ellie..mmpph..ah...need you Ellie...please" You sounded so desperate, so needy, so fucking sweet. It made Ellie smirk against your soft skin, letting go of your nipple with a pop before she looked back up at you. In no time, her lips were pressed against yours again, swallowing your whines as she hummed softly. "Yeah? Need me to play with you baby? Where do you need me, hm? Go on..." She smirked teasingly, her words muffled with her lips smooshed against yours.

Your eyebrows furrowed with frustration as you huffed out, one of your hands coming down to slip underneath her t shirt, tugging at the waist band of her jeans.

"You're so...mmm..fuck...annoying...please fuck me Ellie..." You struggled to speak, especially when Ellie began rocking her hips against you, teasing you with the attention you needed most. You let out a soft moan, giving her shirt one more tug before she chuckled, pulling away so she could pull off her t shirt, followed by her jeans. "So needy...looks like ill have to sort you out then, won't I" She smirked softly as she grabbed you by your hips, pulling you closer as she tugged off your shorts and your panties.

You whined softly as you watched her strip in front of you, feeling the wet spot between your legs grow more and more with every new piece of her that was revealed to you. It was pathetic, how vocal you were being without even being touched, but you couldn't even care, not when she was giving you everything you wanted without so much of a fight.

She hissed softly against your lips, her fingers swiping back and forth between your glossy folds. "Fuck...lil pussy is just weeping for me, huh? Been long since you've been fucked baby?" Her words were taunting, filthy, and they made you huff as your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"Just...come on El....need to feel you.." You whined, tugging her hand gently to pull her back to her spot in between your legs. She smirked softly as she watched you, her hand cupping your cheek gently before she pressed one more kiss to your lips. "I'll take care of you angel..dont you worry" She hummed out before she slotted herself between your legs.

She gripped your thigh in her hands, positioning herself so that her pussy was pressed up against yours. The feeling had you moaning before she could even move, her wet folds pressed up against yours made your eyes roll back, made your back arch, and if Ellie didn't know any better, she'd think you came just from that alone.

"Fuck...feel that baby? Feel how wet you've got me? thats it...thats a good fucking girl.." She moaned out, her words caged behind her gritted teeth as she began rolling her hips back and forth, her pussy gliding across yours, clit bumping against your own in a way that you had never felt before. It was almost as if she was designed for you, and you her, and it had you like putty in her hands.

"Ah!...y-yeah! Right there Ellie, oh my god" Your moans were breathy and needy, and Ellie couldn't help by smirk down at you, enjoying the show you were putting on for her a little too much. It was like a work of art, the way you just let the pleasure take you, the way you let her take you, it had her wanting to do more, go further, bring you the most pleasure you'd ever felt in your entire fucking life.

And you felt it. In the way she began speeding up, your moans egging her on to keep going. Her hand gripped your thigh tighter, giving her a better grip on your body to allow her to go faster. Your moans mixed together, and the wetness of your cores created a pornographic sound that you would most definitely feel embarrassed about tomorrow, but not now, not when you felt this fucking good.

Ellie moaned loudly, her head falling back as she went faster, feeling her stomach coil in that delicious way that she loved so much. And yours did too, you stared up at her in awe as she fucked her pussy down onto yours, and you whined, eyebrows furrowed with utter pleasure.

"Gonna cum...p-please cum with me Ellie..fuck...please" You didn't even have to ask, because Ellie was nodding her head the second she heard the pleas leave your swollen lips. "Yeah...fuck...yeah baby...gonna cum with you...gonna fucking...oh my god!" And as if timed perfectly, she felt white hot pleasure wash over her, and you felt the exact same.

Your back arched almost painfully, hands fisting the sheets beneath you as you came hard, the wet noises of your pussy's amplifying as Ellie slowed down, riding both yours and her orgasm out.

The sensitivity made you whimper, and Ellie breathed hard as she looked down at your worn out body. Your eyes were heavy, and she knew exactly what it meant. She placed her hands on your hips, pushing herself off of your wobbly legs before she walked off to the bathroom, grabbing a wet rag and cleaning herself up before grabbing another and coming back to do the same for you.

When she returned, you had rolled over onto your side, and your heavy eyes were fighting the drowsy, post sex nap that you so desperately needed. She smiled softly as she watched you, spreading your legs despite the soft, sleepy whine you let out. "I know baby...just gonna clean you up, then we can sleep, yeah?". She took the small noise you made as a response before she carried on cleaning you, taking the dirty rags after and putting them in your hamper before she returned to the bed.

She sighed out softly, gently pulling your sleepy form to lay with her underneath the covers, and almost immediately you were hiking your thigh over her leg and cuddling into her body. A soft, sleepy sound left your lips once again, and before she could even blink, soft snores were leaving your parted lips.

Ellie sighed softly as she stared down at you for a moment before she looked up at the ceiling, a familiar sinking feeling settling in on her stomach as she held you close. She decided shed ignore it, and instead focus on the warm feeling that you brought instead.

She would cross that bridge when she got to it.

#ellie x y/n #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x you #the last of us #ellie williams x female reader #tlou #ellie williams x y/n #the last of us 2 #ellie williams #tlou 2 #the last of us part ii

534 notes · View notes

qrevo · 3 months

Text

Was tagged by @humanaaa and @hholandies!! Thanks for the tags ^^

1. Are you named after anyone?

Kinda?? My first and second names are supposed to come from angels of the bible (or as so i was told), but istg the one from my first name DOES NOT exist. I searched everywhere and came up empty-handed lol

2. When was the last time you cried?

Last week when i replayed Adastra. The catharsis was so strong it disintegrated my core being into dust fr fr

3. Do you have kids?

Nope!! And i don't plan to!!

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

I practiced judo when i was very very tiny, but i was too scrawny and clumsy for it. Left before even making it out of the white belt LMAO

Also a little before high school i used to play basketball and swim!!

Now i just bike regularly if that somehow counts SKDJFDKF

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Very very rarely

6. What's the first thing you notice about someone?

Their outfit!!

7. Eye color?

Brown!!

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

C-Can i have both 🥺👉👈

But if i had to choose between them i think i'd go with a scary movie

9. Any talents?

Being good at math counts?? SKJSJSJD

10. Where were you born?

BRASIL NÚMERO 1 CAMPEÃO DO MUNDO 🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷🇧🇷

11. Hobbies?

Since the start of the year i picked up drawing again!! I sometimes play videogames, but i haven't been doing it that much lately. I take walks a few days of the week. I also like watching/reading stuff but that one's a given

12. Any pets?

We have two dogs!! Fiona, the bigger one we adopted, and Moana, the smaller one that adopted us!! (i also wanted a cat but everyone here's allergic and hates them to death for some reason)

13. Height?

I must be between 1.70m ~ 1.72m?? I haven't measured my height in quite some time lol

14. Favorite school subject?

Unsurprisingly, math!!

15. Dream job?

I used to dream of becoming a programmer or a game developer, but i've become quite disillusioned with the industry. Now i really have no idea LMAO

Tagging @not-too-many-eyes @rainbowghostcat @candckirby @seariii @gunsli-01 @roseofcards90 and anyone else that feels like it!!

edit: enough reblogs on this one continue the tag game on your own posts 💥💥💥💥💥

#qrevo.txt #hehe obrigado pelas tags ^^#''i don't dream of labor'' is also so true aretha fr fr

97 notes · View notes

felassan · 1 month

Text

Letters from Lovers

Transcriptions of the letters from the various gear store items. under cut for length.

Isabela:

“My dear Hawke, Do you know anyone with a flock of parrots? I'm trying to cheat on a bet with Varric and the stakes are exceedingly high. If you help me, I shall take you to that breathtaking beach you so crave. Free of ancient horrors, too. I think. I'd hate to take respite from all my adventures, but there are other ways to make the heart flutter. In fact I'm already imagining a few. Aren't you? Sailing there can be fatal, but Admiral Isabela will keep you safe. Are you interested? I would love to see you again. Yours, Isabela”

Morrigan:

“My love, Now before that grin reaches your ears, perish the thought that this letter was my idea. 'Tis Kieran who would not give me peace until I wrote to ask how you are faring. Regale us, if you please, with another of your tales that I might read to him in bed. He is particularly fond of those wherein you spur mischief whilst you save the day. Thank you for your most delightful gifts. I shall make certain to wear them the next time you come home. Dream of me until then, my Hero of Ferelden, and have a care. Morrigan”

Dorian:

“My dearest Amatus, Home is ever as it was: a glittering whirl of dancing, politics, and murder. I'm used to people staring daggers at me - I quite relish it, actually - but the glares seem to possess a new intensity since my return to Tevinter. Do they disapprove of House Pavus freeing its slaves while I work in the Magisterium to end slavery across Tevinter? Perhaps they simply covet my cheekbones, and who could blame them? Real reform will take time, but we're making inroads. I miss you terribly, Amatus, perhaps almost as much as you miss me. I treasure you and your belief in my work here. Yours always, Dorian P.S. I wouldn't take it amiss if you might send me another barrel of that dreadful Fereldan beer?”

Alistair:

“My love, How are you? Is it true that you recently killed darkspawn with only a mean glare and a pointy stick? Ferelden is ablaze with this rumor! You do give people so much hope. Tales of your heroism never fail to astonish me and almost ease the pain of going to sleep without you by my side. Almost. I can't wait to be with you again. I'd bring you some roses, you could give me a tour of the keep, we'd drink with the new recruits and then cuddle in a tent. Without the new recruits! Tent time is just for the two of us. I want to make that clear. Now excuse me while I practice my death glare and rummage through the dog's stash of sticks. I love you. Yours forever, Alistair.”

Tali:

“By the way, I left something for you up in your cabin. Go have a look.” - Tali’Zorah --- “Dear Shepard, As you may remember, I presented this picture frame to you as a gift on the Normandy. It was my way of expressing my admiration for you and our bond as comrades-in-arms. On the back of the metal frame, I've emblazoned a promise that will never fade - 'Shepard, wherever you go, I'm with you.' I know it's not much, but...this is what I look like under the mask. I'm sorry if it's not what you were expecting. I know Quarian faces can be a bit...different. Every time you look at my picture, I hope you will be reminded of our adventures on the Normandy, from our battles against the Reapers to our intimate conversations in the privacy of our quarters. I am not one to express my emotions openly, but thank you for being my friend, my confidante, and my inspiration. I look forward to many more adventures together. Keelah se’lai, Tali’Zorah”

Bonus:

Shepard's N7 acceptance letter, from Anderson:

“N7 Congratulations on your graduation From Captain David Anderson Shepard, When I graduated from the N7 program I had the honor of meeting Admiral Grissom, the man who inspired me to pursue a career in the service, and I never thought I’d feel prouder in my life. I was mistaken. Don’t get me wrong, it was a big day. An important day. But there’s something about welcoming driven young people like yourself into the ranks that’s also pretty damn satisfying. Your distinguished service record may have gotten you into this program - but it was your courage, integrity, and tenacity that’s enabled you to join an elite few. You represent the best of humanity, and I feel certain you’ll make the galaxy a better place. And I’m not the only one who feels this way. Becoming an N7 means the entire Systems Alliance is telling you one thing - we believe in you. Let me end by saying this. Welcome to the team Shepard. We know you won’t let us down. David Anderson Systems Alliance Interplanetary Combatives Academy N7 N7 Acceptance Letter”

#dragon age #bioware #morrigan #queen of my heart #feels #video games #alistair theirin #fav warden #alcohol cw #long post #longpost #mass effect #gpoy #more of these pls 🥺#maybe.. a fenris one...? 👉👈#(if i missed any of these letters #pls let me know)

101 notes · View notes

mcflymemes · 10 months

Text

PROMPTS FROM RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE * assorted (and slightly adapted to suit this meme format) dialogue from the book by casey mcquiston, adjust as necessary

on purpose. i love him on purpose.

i've always thought of myself as a problem that deserved to stay hidden.

i'm going to have you offed. you'll never see it coming.

take anything you want and know you deserve to have it.

get in there.

you're literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state.

before you, i was all right letting everything happen to me.

i can't believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are.

sorry, are we not? did i skip ahead again?

you've been warned.

he died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.

my life is a cosmic joke and you're not a real person.

hey, have i told you lately that you're brave?

i honestly have never thought i deserved to choose.

we're gonna make it work. you and me and history, remember?

if you finish that sentence, i'm gonna spend tonight in jail.

but the truth is, also, simply this: love is indomitable.

i actively wish for the sweet release of death.

yes, good, carry on.

i won't hear a word against it.

we're gonna do it together.

i said you look great, baby!

i meet you in every dream, and when i wake i cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness.

i'm so in love i could die.

you can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse.

i wonder if it's too late to swan dive off the roof.

i'm learning all your hidden depths today, sweetheart.

you must invent an entirely new system.

a curious thing about grief is the way it takes your entire life, all those foundational years that made you who you are, and makes them so painful to look back on.

he's proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is.

i've bloody well had it!

we can unpack the ironic symbolism later.

that's beyond our sense of decorum!

i'm not afraid of anything i feel. i'm afraid of saying it. i'm only afraid of what happens when i do.

aw, you do care.

if there's any legacy for me on this earth, i want it to be true.

straight people probably don't spend this much time convincing themselves that they're straight.

the moment you first called me a prick, my fate was sealed.

you are the absolute worst idea i've ever had.

should i tell you that when we're apart, your body comes back to me in dreams?

can you perhaps stop putting your sodding life in danger now?

what are we even defending here?

history will remember us.

when i sleep, i see you.

i hate this so much.

every person who bears a legacy makes the choice of a partner with whom they will share it with.

we're just gonna fucking fight.

he is my choice.

i can appreciate that maybe this isn't your fault.

i've been gay as a maypole since the day i came out of mom.

when i wake up in the morning, it feels like i've just been with you.

i can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache.

your spine's a ridge i'd die climbing.

for a few moments, i can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all.

the phrase 'see attached bibliography' is the single sexiest thing you have ever written me.

i promise you, one day we'll be able to just be, and fuck everyone else.

give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.

i want to set myself on fire, but i can't afford for anyone to see me burn.

you see, for me, memories are difficult.

never tell me the odds.

i wish there weren't a wall.

jesus christ, it's like they can see into your soul.

you're it, okay? i'm never gonna love anybody in the world like i love you.

i'm finished. i don't care.

god, i want to fight everyone who's ever hurt you.

the whole world watched, and history remembered.

are you quite finished?

just so we're clear. i'm about to have sex with you in this storage closet to spite your family.

you insane, hopeless romantic little shit.

268 notes · View notes

lovely-showtimes · 7 months

Text

out on the balcony . . . ♡

characters - tsukasa, emu, nene, rui.

type - scenario.

contains - gn reader. reader having a nightmare while at a sleepover with wxs and is pretty freaked out by it, but no details of it are specified. reader is stated to be a big fan of jellyfish in rui's so i'm very sorry if you do not like them!

a/n - haven't been having the best of times lately, so i decided to write this. based on a daydream i've been having w/ these 4 ever since i got into project sekai pretty much. enjoy <3

You jolt awake in the middle of the night, your heart pounding in your chest. Your sweaty palms desperately grip your blanket as you try to make sense of where you are and what's real.

That... That was a dream, right? You think, exhaling deeply. I'm... I'm not in there. I'm with my friends now.

Quietly as possible, you roll onto your side to look at the other four. They're all fast asleep, snoring peacefully (some of them louder than others). Somehow, knowing that they're here beside you calms you a little.

But this living room, despite being massive, still felt way too stuffy to you. Making sure to not awaken your friends, you carefully get up and stumble away.

Emu's house was definitely way too large, and even though you've been here a couple times before, you still felt utterly lost. After blankly wandering about for a few moments, you finally manage to find a balcony overlooking the city.

The cool night air hits your face as you step out onto the balcony. It's a little chilly to be out here in only your pajamas, but you don't care about that right now.

Looking up, you can see the stars twinkling high above in the sky. There's something grounding about watching them like this, and you can forget about your nightmare for a while.

You're not sure how long you're out there, it feels like hours and minutes at the same time. Soon enough, however, you hear someone softly call your name from behind. You turn around and...

You're suddenly met with the warmth of a blanket wrapping around your shoulders, immediately causing you to feel warm and snug.

"You're going to catch a cold if you stay out here like this," Tsukasa lightly scolds you. "It's important that you stay healthy! I would hate for you to become sick."

You stare at him blankly for a few moments, shocked to even see him here in the first place (how does he not get lost in Emu's labyrinth of a house??), before realising you should probably say something.

"Um, thanks." You smile awkwardly, holding onto the blanket to make sure it doesn't fall off of you. "Do you just... carry a blanket around with you?"

Tsukasa chuckles lightly and shakes his head. "No, no. When you got up to leave, you accidentally nudged my arm a bit and woke me up. I thought you were just getting a glass of water or something, but you didn't come back for ages so I decided to come find you!"

Tsukasa folds his arms and frowns. "But then I found you out here, and... Listen, if you want some time alone, that's fine! I'll go back to the others! I just didn't want you to be cold, because I could see you shivering..."

You didn't realise you had been that cold in the first place. You barely noticed the cold, you'd been so wrapped up in your own thoughts.

"I'd actually quite like it if you stayed out here with me, if that's okay." You speak softly, gaze averted in embarrassment. It's such a simple request, but for some reason, you feel guilty asking for it.

"Of course that's okay!" Tsukasa declares, placing his hands on his hips with a grin. "I'd be more than happy to stay out here with you for however long you want!"

He strides over and leans on the balcony beside you. You both stand in silence for a few moments, and you wonder if you should say something. Do I tell him about the nightmare? Maybe it's best if I just keep it in...

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, only to notice him staring up at the night sky above. He has a small, content smile on his face as he gazes upwards.

He looks so much calmer than usual. You didn't know he liked stars so much.

Without thinking, you shuffle over and lean your head on his shoulder. Somehow, he feels softer and warmer than the blanket swaddling you.

"Hm?" Tsukasa turns to you in surprise, before he soon relaxes again and wraps his arm around your shoulder, bringing you in close.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips as you relax against him. Being in his presence like this is making you feel so much more at ease than before. Your eyes begin to droop closed as the two of you stand together, your nightmare long forgotten.

"Oh, Emu. Hi."

The short pink-haired girl stands in the entryway, her head tilted to the left ever-so-slightly. She bounces on her feet ever-so-slightly as she rushes to you, skidding to a halt in front of the railing.

"You're awake!" She exclaims, wide eyes studying you carefully. "Aren't you super sleepy right now?"

"Not really." A yawn cuts in between your words, as if to prove you wrong. "I can't sleep."

Emu stays silent for a few moments. You feel like her bright pink eyes are going to stare right into your mind and pluck out your secrets for all to see.

"Okay. I'll wait until you're tired, then." Her forearms come up to rest on the railing, on which she rests her head.

You open your mouth to object, to tell her that it's fine and she should just go back to bed, but you realise you want her company. You turn to face the view once again.

The two of you stay silent for a while. It's not usually like this with Emu - she's always quite talkative. But right now, she's not saying a thing.

She's probably just tired, you reason with yourself. I doubt she's used to being up this late, unlike... some other people I know.

That's when she speaks up again to prove you wrong. You really feel like she's reading your mind or something.

"Do you wanna see something cool?"

You turn your head slightly. "Uh, sure. What is it?"

"Follow me!" Emu beams and takes your hand, leading you off the balcony.

You have to follow her for quite a while. You don't think you'll ever get used to this place, and you have to wonder if Emu ever feels lost in it herself.

Eventually, she starts leading you up some stairs into what appeared to be an attic. Emu hops up some precarious-looking stairs and opens a small window to the roof. She grins, beckoning you over.

"E-Emu, is this safe...?" You question, feeling apprehensive as you cautiously climb the stairs.

She nods enthusiastically. "Don't worry! I've done this plenty of times! You'll be just fine~!"

You don't have a choice except to trust her. You carefully climb the stairs and look through the window, where Emu has climbed through.

You're at a fairly high point of Emu's home, although not quite the highest. You're on a flat roof, with walls surrounding it so that neither of you would accidentally fall off.

"Oh," you murmur, climbing out and standing on the roof beside her.

Emu collapses on a couple pillows and blankets she has positioned on the roof and smiles at you invitingly. "Come sit!"

You take a seat beside her as she lays down and points at the sky. "Look! You can see the stars super well!"

Upon lying down as well, you realise she's right. The stars look even more beautiful from up here, and you love it.

"I wish I knew more stuff about stars," Emu sighs. "One of my friends loves them! I like listening to her talk, but she has such a calming voice that it makes me sleepy..."

You glance at her out of the corner of your eye. "I know a few constellations, if you'd like to learn, maybe?"

Emu's eyes sparkle in joy. "Yes, yes!! I'd love that!!"

You smile softly, before turning your attention to the sky and pointing. "Okay, see those up there? That's Ursa Minor..."

As you start to talk about the different constellations in the sky, Emu's gaze briefly wanders to you, and the content smile on your face.

They don't look so sad anymore, she thinks gleefully as she turns her attention back to the sky.

"Nene? What are you doing awake?"

The green-haired girl hesitates in the doorway, as if she's thinking carefully.

"I could ask you the same thing," she responds. "I just got up to get some water. Why are you out here?"

You feel pretty reluctant to tell her about your nightmare. It sounds embarrassing in your head to tell someone you had a nightmare, as if you were a child. You grow uncomfortable as your gaze drifts to your feet.

"...Can't sleep." Is what comes out of your mouth.

"So, you had a nightmare." Nene cuts in immediately, as if seeing right through you.

You clear your throat in embarrassment and turn away. You didn't expect her to figure it out so quickly. Was it that obvious?

Nene takes a couple steps closer. "Usually whenever I have a nightmare, I like to play some games for a while before I go back to sleep. It helps me get my mind off of it."

You glance back at her, brow furrowed slightly. "Don't you only play those violent shooter games? Wouldn't that just make it worse?"

"N-No," she splutters, cheeks tinged pink, "I-I don't just play those! I play some other things too..."

You can't resist the urge to smile at her embarrassment, which causes her to glare at you and huff.

"Do you want to play a game with me or not?" She demands.

You laugh slightly and nod. "Yes, I'd love to. Thank you, Nene."

She quickly turns around and heads back into the home. She's back soon enough, holding two handheld game consoles - yours and hers - as well as a blanket. She sits down on the ground, before tilting her head up to you.

"C'mon. Sit."

You sit beside her, pulling one end of the blanket around you as Nene takes the other half. You had just realised how cold you were, so you lean against her as you boot up the console.

"So, what do you wanna play?" You ask softly.

Silence. You thought maybe Nene was just thinking about it, but she's just not responding.

"Nene?"

She clears her throat as you prompt her. You catch a glimpse of her red face out of the corner of your eye. "Sorry. Um, I bought this game recently, and I think you told me you liked it...?"

You scan her screen quickly and sit up, beaming. "Oh, that's one of my favorite games!! I'd never thought you'd play it, because it's not really your style. Thank you, Nene!"

She hides her face in her hair as you speak so you don't see how red she's getting. Nene boots up the game as she speaks. "No... No problem, I guess."

You beam and continue resting your head on her shoulder as you open the game as well, eager to play it with your friend.

You come face-to-face with Rui, who's watching you with an odd expression. He's smiling as usual, but you can sense some concern in his gaze.

He walks over and leans on the railing beside you, before tilting his head in curiosity.

"Didn't expect you to still be awake at this hour," he comments casually. "What brings you out here?"

You look away, clutching the railing a little more tightly and bowing your head slightly. "Can't sleep."

"Are you sure? That's all?" Rui further prods, leaning his head on his arms. You feel like his piercing yellow eyes have already seen all your secrets, somehow.

You look away. "...Yeah. That's all."

You know that he knows you're lying, his soft "I see" after you speak tells you that much. You just can't bring yourself to talk about it right now.

You tilt your head down to stare at your hands. You're clinging to the railing so tightly that it's starting to hurt your hands, and you didn't even realise til now. You release your death grip, but continue resting your hands on it.

Suddenly, you hear something... mechanical? It sounds as if something is moving. You glance over to see some kind of contraption balancing on the railing. Instinctively, you put your hand around it, stopping it from falling off the railing just in case that would happen.

"R-Rui?!" You snap your head around to stare in bewilderment at the inventor. "You can't just put these guys on such precarious areas! What if it falls off and gets damaged?"

He only laughs at your fretting. "Its legs can stick to any surface it likes. Don't worry."

As if to prove this, the robot walks around the railing, hanging on underneath for a few moments before walking back up again. It beeps at you proudly.

You reluctantly remove your hands. "...Fine. What does it do, anyway?"

Rui pouts at you in the saddest way he can. "Ah, is walking around and sticking to surfaces not enough...? Don't you love him the way he is?"

The robot lets out a few small, sad beeps. Before you can respond to his antics, Rui's signature smile returns like it never left.

"Anyways, yes. It can create small projections in the air. For example..."

On queue, the circular top of the robot lights up, and a couple butterflies appear in the air, flying around without a care in the world. It was surprisingly realistic, enough that you were almost convinced that there were butterflies in front of you.

"...Woah." You breathe, watching in awe. "You made this?"

Rui nods, smiling warmly as the projections change - this time to a bird flying through the sky.

"You got its movements down so well," you murmur. You carefully reach out to brush your finger against it, but of course, it just goes right through. It is a projection, after all.

It lastly switches to a projection of jellyfish slowly floating through water, which makes you really excited. You love jellyfish, after all! They're just so pretty, and seeing them in front of you like this brings you so much joy. Even if it isn't real.

Rui chuckles at the way your eyes light up. "I had a feeling you'd like that one." He grins and leans his head on his hand as he continues watching you.

"And hey, you're not so down anymore, are you?"

You halt immediately, realising he's completely right. You'd totally forgotten about your nightmare thanks to Rui's little contraption.

"Yeah. Thanks." You offer him a small smile. "If you have them with you, could I see more of your robots?"

Rui's eyes flash with glee at being asked a question like that. "Why yes, of course! I'd be very glad to show you some more!"

He cups his hands and moves closer to you, where you can see a large variety of contraptions, way more than anyone would normally need to take anywhere.

Dumbfounded, you turn your gaze to him. "You seriously took all of these here?"

Rui shrugs, as if it's a normal occurrence for him. "I just enjoy being prepared. Now, look here. First, this one can bring small objects to you if you ask..."

#♡ ~ love letter sent!#project sekai x reader #pjsk x reader #tsukasa tenma x reader #tenma tsukasa x reader #emu otori x reader #otori emu x reader #nene kusanagi x reader #kusanagi nene x reader #rui kamishiro x reader #kamishiro rui x reader #imagines

248 notes · View notes

ever-eilish · 2 months

Note

hi! I'd love to see how you'd write chishiya. :)

If you don't have many ideas--maybe a simple scenario where the reader has night terrors and sleeps better with someone. So, she kinda just knocks on Chishiya's door, fully expecting him to dismiss her but he actually agrees.

If you want to turn it into smut, you do you!

Good night

chishiya x fem!reader

when sleepless nights are more common than usual, a very familiar face helps with the terror that comes when the sun goes down

author's notes: so, this is the very first imagine that l post on tumblr! I'm excited to know what you guys think about it :) thank you so much for requesting, I hope this is what you wanted!!! english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes, enjoy❤️‍🩹

warnings: none! just fluff ;)

Sweat dripped from my forehead and I could feel my heart pounding in my ribcage. Tears were forming in my eyes and my breathing was. heavy. The feeling of exhaustion gnawed at me more and more, but now it was impossible to close my eyes and rest again. Ever since I arrived in this place, I have had dreams - or rather, nightmares - every night. At first, I was able to go back to sleep; but the nightmares are getting worse. What was once just a distant image of all the horrors I've experienced here, are now people screaming and running after me.

"Murderer! Murderer!" They scream as they run towards me, with disfigured faces and bloody bodies.

I can't run, it's almost like my feet betray me and refuse to move. I get up from my bed and walk towards the door. I don't have time to think straight when I stand in front of Chishiya's bedroom door; again feeling betrayed by my own feet.

My relationship with Chishiya is complicated, we don't really like each other. It all started with a stupid game, in which only he and I made it out alive. However, what should be a reason for rapprochement, has become a reason for repulsion.

I don't know exactly why, maybe he just didn't really liked me, but I know that since then we've gone into a strange spiral of competition. In which every time I come back from a game he looks at me with that look of superiority that I hate so much, and acts as if the fact that I survived another game was a surprise; obviously, I do the same to him.

I can't quite figure it out, maybe for a subconscious reason, or maybe because he's the only familiar face on the beach, but now I'm knocking on his door.

I regret my decision the moment I put it into action, after all, it was obvious that he would not open the door.

Or maybe he'd even open the door and when he looked at my face, he'd give another one of his smirks and close the door. Or maybe he would even insult me for waking him up in the middle of the night just because I needed comfort. Maybe I should just go back to my room and spend another sleepless night trapped in my own thoughts. I was going back to my room when I hear the door open.

I turn around again and see the blond-haired man's face staring at me intensely, with a questioning look. An awkward silence ensues as I stare at him wide-eyed.

"I-I..." I can't finish my sentence.

Idiot, idiot, idiot! Why the fuck did I think it would be a good idea to show up at the door of the last person who would want to be woken up by me?

"You...?" he says, raising an eyebrow and looking in my direction. His eyes showed no judgment, but rather pure confusion.

"I had a nightmare, and..." onde again, I was not able to finish my sentence "I'll just go back to my room! Sorry if I bothered you!"

I and turn to go to my room again when I feel a warm hand touch my arm.

Something about that simple touch was different, it was almost as if with just one touch, he could soothe all my demons.

"Come in" he says in an indifferent tone, giving me room to enter his room. With a little hesitation I walk towards the room.

The place smelled of cinnamon, with a slight touch of sweetness. It was organized, and somehow I felt that Chishiya's room was a good representation of his personality; cold and not so cozy, but at that moment, that was all I needed.

"Are you going to stand there, or are you going to lie down?" he says, walking over to his king-size bed in the middle of the room. It was only at that moment that I noticed that he wasn't wearing his usual sweatshirt, but just a black t-shirt and sweatpants of the same a color.

I walk towards his bed and sit on the right side, suddenly feeling that my fingers were much more interesting than staring at the piercing brown eyes that were looking at me curiously.

"I don't bite" he says, again in an indifferent tone, and I look in his direction, noticing that he was now lying on his back "you can lie down, you look tired"

So I do as he says and lie on my back as well, staring at the dull white ceiling. The situation should be uncomfortable, and I should be wishing I could get out of here as soon as possible, but instead, I felt comforted by the warmth emanating from the body of the man lying just inches from me, and I wondered how long it had been since I felt such comfort.

"So, nightmares, right?" he asks and turns his head in my direction

"Yes, I guess"

"And may I know why you chose to come here?" he asks me.

His tone was not accusatory, but curious. What am I supposed to answer, anyway? I'm not even sure what I'm doing here.

"I have no idea" I answer honestly, and hear a faint laugh from my side, still refusing to look into his eyes. The room is silent again and I feel him moving on the bed to turn off a simple lamp with yellowish light arranged on the small table next to him, a lamp that I didn't even notice was on.

Now, with the total darkness, I can't help but feel more comfortable, my eyes heavy. It was suddenly, so suddenly that I almost couldn't believe it, that I felt Chisiya's arm go over my shoulders and pulling me slightly closer; Now, my head is millimeters away from his chest, and his arms are clinging to me, with his hand making small circular motions on my forearm. I don't dare say anything, I just let myself relax, snuggle into his embrace and focus on the circular drawings he made with his fingers on my skin, as I feel my eyes close and my body fall into a much-needed sleep.

Maybe it's the only time l've really been able to sleep well since I've been here.

Little did I know, that this was also the only time Chishiya had been able to sleep well since arriving in this hell.

#fanfic #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #chishiya x reader #write #aib chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya x you #chishiya x y/n #chishiya x fem!reader #chishiya fanfic #nijiro murakami #alice in borderland #alice in boderland x reader

79 notes · View notes

dialoguestetatet · 3 months

Text

Hwangyeon Choi x fem!reader

Fluff

OOC? OOC! But I don’t give a fuck, I had to write it, otherwise I would have gone crazy. Yes, I'm his hater, but I've always been attracted to the "enemies to lovers" trope, and that's exactly what happened to me and Hwangyeon. He's my pathetic little meow meow from now on

masterlist

The idiot in love pt.1 (part 2 is here)

Hwangyeon Choi was confident, he was cool, in fact he was cocky, everyone knew it and hated it. But around you? Oh my, he was a mess, blushing, stuttering, bashful boy with sweaty palms.

How much Hwangyeon wanted you to smile at him with such a beautiful and gentle smile, look at him from under your eyelashes, and even blush a little. He wanted to hear your voice, addressed to him, and not furtively catch snatches of phrases from conversations with your friends. And your ringing laugh, Hwangyeon would give anything for you to laugh at his jokes. He only heard you laugh once, but that's when he realized he had a little crush on you.

Yeah, it's a small crash, nothing more, he wasn't in love or something like that.

He's definitely never stared at you so hard that he flew face-first into a wall.

Hwangyeon definitely didn't try to approach you, but in the process, he tripped over his own foot and fell into the bushes.

He definitely never daydreamed about you, that his friends had to shake him by the shoulders so that he would finally answer what kind of coffee he wanted.

He had never even dreamed of you in such warm and tender dreams that when he woke up, he almost cried with disappointment.

Hwangyeon just wanted to talk to you, take your hand, hug you, kiss you, hold you as close as possible, stroke your waist, smell your hair, nuzzle into your cheek, go down on your neck, nibble your skin there, leave a hickey and run his tongue over the mark, kiss his way down to your collarbones, and stroke your lower back with his hands and go lower and lower and ...

Stop. He wasn't a pervert (maybe a little). Why did God give his toughest battle to his weakest soldier? The first step was to finally gather his courage, come up to you, flirt, and find out your phone number. He usually never had any problems with this, or rather before he met you. And your first meeting was like a cliched drama. Hwangyeon was walking home and saw how the guy who infuriated him (and who didn't infuriate him?) was trying to hit on the most beautiful girl in the world (you), but after receiving a no in response, he still couldn't fuck off and kept bothering you. So Hwangyeon walked up and shooed this guy away, and then time stopped. You looked into his eyes and smiled so sincerely that it took his breath away. Then you said, "Oh my God, thank you so much, you just saved me! This guy has been bothering me for several days now. I'm sorry, I have to run, we'll chat later, see you!" Then you ran your hand over his forearm, and his whole skin was covered with goosebumps, and his cheeks were flushed. He couldn't even utter a word in response. His heart skipped a beat, and then began to pound, the world around froze as you walked past him, still smiling. After standing there for a few more minutes, he walked on, trying to figure out what had just happened and why he felt like he had just had a heart attack.

You've been waiting. You've been waiting for a long time, but Hwangyeon never came to you. After he helped you, you found out his name very quickly. You would've approached him first, thanking him again and casually mentioning that you don't have a boyfriend, but you were hesitant? More precisely, you lost your confidence when you heard that he was quite straightforward, and when he liked a girl, he easily came up for her number. Once, you even thought that Hwangyeon had finally decided to approach you and mentally prepared for an invitation to coffee, but he seemed to have evaporated. You looked down for just a couple of seconds to straighten your clothes, and when you looked ahead again, he was nowhere to be found. Later, you heard that someone fell into the bushes, but you were not up to this poor guy, you finally lost hope of a date with Hwangyeon. So the days went by, you saw him all the time, but he didn't seem to notice you. It was sad and a little hurtful, but it's impossible to make a person like you.

Today was the day. Hwangyeon gathered his strength and went straight to you. It seemed like a tank was coming at you. You're holding your breath, did he really make up his mind after all? After stumbling only four times, he came up to you, and there seemed to be a halo of romance around. He looked into your eyes and drowned in them, so sparkling, so clear, as if you were looking right into his soul. Fluttering your eyelashes, you smiled softly and said, "Hi." Hwangyeon died and came to life, fell into the abyss and soared into the sky, felt agony and absolute happiness. At that moment, he could say the only relevant phrase, "I'm in love with you." And finally he heard your soft laugh and the answer, "Let's start with a date, okay?"

And Hwangyeon Choi realized that he would do anything to keep you in his life forever.

#windbreaker #windbreaker x reader #Hwangyeon Choi #hwangyeon x reader #Hwangyeon Choi x reader #windbreaker hwangyeon #windbreaker webtoon #wind breaker x reader

137 notes · View notes

r4d1c4lw31rd0 · 13 days

Text

Unseen Grave (Yandere!Venture x Reader)

My first post and it's about Venture LOLZ- I've never used tumblr before, I kinda just skim through here on occasion for cool art, writing for some of my favorite characters, and headcanons- Sorry if this is bad- This is also on AO3! I don't mind any requests either, can't promise to get to them quickly though-

CW: Minor Character death, implied/referenced past non/con, dead dove kinda, stalking, non graphic violence, skippable NSFW (This isn't non-con), a kinda abrupt ending, OOC Mauga, No use of Y/N, Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Your POV

Where did all of this go wrong? You only ever wanted to live a normal and happy life. Forced into a world of crime, you made it your mission to get yourself and your comrades out of this hell hole. This slimy, sludgy pit you all had seemed perpetually stuck in, but you knew there was better out there. You could all live that lavish and carefree life you always dreamed of, you just had to claw your way to it. So when Mauga approached you, you saw it as an opportunity. Talon spotted your talent, your knack for creating poisons and toxins capable of killing or simple paralysis. Why they sent this big brute you’d never understand.

He held his hand out to you, that devious smirk on his dashing features captivating you like no other, drawing you in like a fly to a honeypot. You couldn’t see the web just inches from it though, nor could you see the spider eyeing you and waiting patiently for you to get stuck in its home. He gave you an offer you simply couldn’t ignore. A whole new identity and payment beyond what you could fathom, more than petty pocket change for simple side hustles, no you’d be playing in the big leagues. If you impressed Doomfist himself enough that is. All you had to do was complete a rather simple task and the position was all yours.

Despite what you’d heard about Mauga, he was quite tricky and conniving with his words. The smartest? Not by a long shot. He couldn’t quite comprehend the big words you used, but he could read you like an open book, and that was enough for him. The smallest twitch or glance was all he needed to know almost exactly what you were thinking and just how much more persuasion you were going to need. A true predator cornering its prey.

If you knew then what you know now, you never would’ve agreed. Then again, Talon may not have let you off the hook so easily. It may have cost you your life. You agreed to the simple mission, poisoning an important political figure and rendering him desperate enough to turn to Talon for a cure. Your unique little toxins could only be cured by you, considering they were abominations to medical science and were something entirely new and original all together. The mere fact that you only had to change one component to make it cause different effects was something you were proud of.

You didn’t doubt yourself in the slightest, so when word of your success was all over the news you felt your pride and ego swell. Doomfist had introduced you into a new world, one where the pay was greater and the tasks were challenging enough for a brilliant mind like yours. Working alongside Dr. O’deorain was fascinating, considering it was she who had inspired you to push the boundaries of the medical world. At the time, Talon seemed like it would give you everything you needed, but blinded by that desire for more and where it could take you you didn’t see it for what it truly was. Just as much of a hell hole as the rest of the world had been.

They squashed your hopes of getting somewhere, of having peace and calm rather than the hustle and bustle of the streets. No, working for them you never knew any kind of peace. A sense of hate began to form inside of you, alongside resentment. Watching them turn your brilliance into mush and treat it as if it was the common whore was devastating. They had the audacity to demand better from you. Working with Talon, you began to develop the belief that a life of crime and hate was your only option, that staying in this pit was the only option for you. The heinous acts you committed just to gain a lick of fortune was the only thing you’d ever be good for. Of course, you blamed Mauga for all of it. He had gotten you into Talon after all with his stupid face and smug words.

You had found yourself in some kind of relationship with him. He never said you two were together but he surely acted like it, getting irritable when others flirted with you or tried to ask you out. The relationship hadn't been the best nor the healthiest, but at the time you were just happy someone wanted you and didn't view you as a monster because of things you couldn't control. He called you so many sweet names, complimented you when Doomfist tried to put you down and offered you a place to run to in any time of need. It was all for his own advantage of course, but you didn’t know that. You just knew you could be vulnerable with him. You were unaware that you’d finally crept too close to the spider's web. No, he wasn’t a spider, he was a wolf. And you were a lamb, strayed too far from the safety of the herd and right into the wolf’s den.

Needless to say, he took advantage of you and your trust in him. The whole time you two were entangled in your complex relationship, he was almost always borderline violent with you and was very hot and cold with you, treating you as if you were some kind of dog that needed to be trained. You complied with almost everything he asked of you, and even when you didn't he forced you to anyway. Countless nights you lay next to him feeling used like some cheap toy for a rabid animal, and yet you stayed. Because Talon was all you had. Because he was all you had. No one was coming to save a monster, especially not one as sneaky and atrocious as you.

In the end, when you finally had enough, Mauga broke you down and ripped your heart to shreds. He called you so many awful names, told you how much he despised you and watched you crumble with disgusting glee. It hurt. Even though he had treated you so poorly, you were still so distraught by his words and callous behavior. The fact that you were readily available for him was the only reason he kept you around, to be a punching bag and plaything when he felt like it. His betrayal fueled a kind of rage you didn’t know you were capable of feeling, and made you realize for the first time that this world was cruel no matter where you looked at it from and you were stuck in an echo chamber of miserable people. Maybe that's why they let you spiral. Used that rage and hurt against you, and made you numb to everything because it was just easier that way. It kept them from picking at your vulnerability any longer, from seeing you as weak..

You weren’t cared for in the slightest at Talon and you were just fine with that. You didn’t need to be babied or coddled anymore than you had when you were first introduced to this raunchy life, especially not by people who were as disingenuous and callous as your “co-workers”. The only one who showed a hint of sympathy or empathy was Dr. Kuiper and Sombra, probably some of the only people in that place capable of expressing such a thing.You couldn’t complain. You still made money so long as you did what was asked of you and didn’t retaliate when you were degraded for your progress or your work. You were pretty sure things took a turn when you met Sloane, who at the time was “Venture” to you.

Pesky, annoying, and constantly getting in the way of your mission to find some artifact for Doomfist from some kind of ancient gravesite. The two of you were naturally enemies, being on opposite sides and all. And yet they intrigued you. Their happy-go-lucky manner and their quippy remarks as they effortlessly kicked the asses of your useless “assistants” you didn’t understand why Doomfist bothered sending. Truthfully, you could’ve accomplished the mission just as well on your own. You probably would’ve killed them too if Overwatch hadn’t shown up. Just as annoying as ever, they helped finish off the rest of your shitty squad, leaving you running off to hide like a dog with its tail between its legs. That mission you had been left behind, abandoned like an injured pup and left to fend for yourself. Badly injured, you would have cared less if you died. Sitting and stewing in your own misery had made you indifferent to life or death.

Doomfist didn’t want to lose you as an asset, but your location didn’t provide him any opportunity to send you an escape route, so you were stuck slinking about the Petra ruins, avoiding the ever-watchful eyes of Overwatch and the Wayfinders as you waited for your wounds to take you out. You’d only been caught because that insufferable archaeologist found you. You were dehydrated with infected wounds, and even then you still bared your teeth at their approach. They had been on guard at first, but seeing you in such a pathetic state had made them take pity on you, something you hadn’t been gracious enough to receive since you were a child.

Taken to the on-site medical facility, you were put under watch but nonetheless you were cared for. You were unfit to go to jail and serve for your crimes right away, so you were stuck there with the Wayfinders, under their care until you could be sent off. For whatever reason, Venture had stuck with you whenever they could, offering short conversation that was mostly one-sided. You didn’t talk much and only glared, uncomfortable with the hospitality. You would’ve preferred if they were rude to you. It was what you were used to. Three days was all it took for you to finally crack. Three days of consistent visits and kind words. Naturally, you were hesitant. Last time you had opened yourself up you were burnt terribly, and had been several times before. Kindness was a poison to you, and yet they made it so desirable. Their genuinity with it and the way they handed it out so easily had you craving it.

After about a month you had completely recovered, well enough to finally go serve for your crimes. The last day you and Venture spent together, you had taken their hand, feeling its warmth as you pressed a small kiss to the back of it. Their flustered reaction made you laugh for the first time since becoming what you were, and it was warm and joyous.

“Thank you, Sloane.” You whispered, refusing to look at them. You didn’t want them to see you cry. “You’ve been so kind to me, even though I’m so undeserving of it. I wish things were different. I wish we’d met before . . . everything.”

“Not everyone deserves a second chance.” Their words stung, making you shrink in on yourself slightly. “But, you’re . . . different. I don’t think you ever really wanted to do the things you did.”

You looked up at them. They saw you, truly saw you, what you were beneath the muck that had clung to you and thickly coated your skin. Something about the way they looked at you gently made you want to melt and embrace them, but you didn’t, still too timid to trust completely.

“You’re not a bad guy, you were just forced into a shitty situation. Try not to be so hard on yourself.” Their smile wasn’t as wide as it usually was, but it was still filled with just as much charisma and warmth.

Looking back on it, you believe it was this small interaction that led to the actions after. That simple and innocent act of gratitude. If not that, then you weren’t sure what, but you could recall that new glint in their eyes when they watched you get taken away. The way their gaze lingered far longer than it ever had. The way they subtly caressed the hand you kissed.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Your time in jail wasn’t bad, made better by the fact that you received letters and small gifts and pictures from Sloane. The letters were innocent to you at the time, but thinking back on it the signs were there. You wrote back, sent small handmade gifts of your own, and kept every picture and ecstatic letter they sent you from each of their journeys that they shared with you. Unfamiliar with the whole concept of having someone truly care about you, you didn’t notice anything weird. You fought a bit with the other inmates who tried their hand at intimidating the newbie, especially with how widespread your reputation had become working with Talon. You had believed yourself doomed to rot there, considering you had attacked several political figures, harmed many innocents, and stolen that much more. You’d also broken Hippocratic Oath and used your research for worse.

But like some unwanted blessing, you found yourself hightailing it out of there early. Talon had come back for you, after abandoning you for months, and before you would’ve run back to them with open arms. Things were different now though, you had changed for the better and knew going back promised nothing but misery. You ran the second you could, barely escaping but escaping nonetheless. Hiding in a sewer wasn’t ideal but it helped you get away from that prison and away from Talon. The one good thing they could’ve done for you, and probably the last. You knew now though that they would be looking for you. Doomfist would be pissed, knowing he wasted valuable time and resources trying to get you out of prison just for you to run off, but that was his own problem. You never asked for his help, perfectly content with rotting in a cell but now gifted a chance of freedom. With nowhere to go though, you turned to the only person you felt you could trust. The one person who made you feel some sense of normalcy.

Going to Sloane was a huge gamble, considering that you were still a wanted criminal and they were pretty much some kind of vigilante hero type. It took you forever to get to Petra, but you managed, lying in wait until you could talk to Sloane again. In the dead of night, you startled them awake, covering their mouth to prevent them from shouting.

“Shhhh. It’s just me.” You whispered, letting their sleepy eyes adjust to the dark, watching them widen at the sight of you. “Follow.”

The simple command was all they needed as they trailed after you, the two of you finding a quiet little spot away from the dig site to speak freely. Sloane was dressed in a form fitting tank top, allowing you to see the various tattoos that decorated their muscular arms, but you tried not to oogle too much.

“W-What are you doing here? I thought you were in prison? . . .” Sloane spoke slowly, voice still laced with the smallest inklings of sleep as they yawned, pushing stray strands of hair from their face.

“Talon came for me.” You saw them tense, scrambling to finish explaining. “I ran though. They don’t know I’m here, but they are searching for me, and I-” your voice caught in your throat as you swallowed thickly. “I can’t go back.”

You never told Venture the full story of your time at Talon, just that it was awful. They didn’t know about Mauga, didn’t know what was said to you, or any of what you had experienced. It was difficult to bring up. What they did know was that you weren’t treated kindly, and that was enough for them.

“I just need somewhere to hide so I can create a new identity for myself. I just want to live a normal life. That’s all I want.” You stumbled forward, taking a hold of their hands, steady in your trembling ones. “I can’t trust anyone else to keep me hidden. Please, I promise you’ll never have to hear from me, I won’t cause anyone any harm, I just-”

Your desperate ranting was cut off as they pulled you into a tight hug. Their scent was calming, earthy and refreshing. They held you gently, a solid rock amidst the swirling storm of emotion you felt. You weren’t sure how to react, arms shaking as you cautiously hugged them back. You felt safe. Accepted. Warm. You began to hitch as your legs buckled and gave out, taking both of you to the ground as you buried your face into their shoulder. How long has it been since you allowed yourself to cry like this? Ugly sobs wrench their way free from your body as they hold you, rubbing slow and calming circles between your shoulder blades.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to be afraid anymore. You’re safe with me, I promise.” They spoke in a hushed tone, accepting you as you were. “You don’t gotta explain anything to me right now, all that can come later.”

They shifted so that they could hold you more comfortably, letting you cry into them without complaint. When you calmed down, you leaned back, their arms slowly falling from you as you stared down at your lap, furiously wiping away tears. You sniffled slightly, before their hands came into view, holding yours.

“You’ll rub your face raw if you keep doing that, it’s okay to be not okay, camarada.” They were gentle with you, scooting closer to you. “I’d be happy to help you out, especially if it’ll bring you some peace. You deserve at least that much, and you’ve more than proven that you deserve it. Apologies won’t make up for much though, there’s only so far words will take you. You gotta make an effort to do better.”

You looked up to meet their gaze, warm brown eyes scanning your face. You didn’t feel judged, and instead could feel that love and care you always so desperately searched for. You did have a long way to go if you even wanted to atone for a fraction of what you had done, but you were aware no amount of repenting would fix anything. You still did what you did, and there was nothing you could do to fix it. And yet, here in Venture’s arms, you felt so sure that things would get better, especially with them at your side. So distracted by your thoughts and their comfort, you barely registered the way they looked at you with a burning possession and the way their smile slightly faltered when you removed yourself from their hold.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Venture POV

Six months. For six, sweet months Venture had you all to themself. It was a miracle of some kind, it had to be. When the two of you had been separated they could hardly stand it, they wanted to go to you and take you from that prison themself. Hide you away from the world where only they could find you. But they had a reputation to uphold, and they wouldn’t be doing anyone much good if they were in prison with you. When you had first arrived all that time ago, Sloane had thought of you as a bad guy working for talon and nothing more, but when they talked to you in the infirmary, they could tell you were different. When you kissed their hand so sweetly, holding back tears, they felt their heart nearly explode.

At first they were scared and confused. These feelings were new and foreign, they’d never felt this way about anyone else before. But you . . . you lit a new fire in them they didn’t know existed, and they wanted more. They wanted you, but you were gone, so they made do with letters and sending you gifts. They remembered when you finally started writing back they could hardly contain themself, not to mention when you sent the little gifts you made by hand. Countless nights Sloane had spent thinking about you, depressed by the thought that they’d never get to touch or hold you. They tossed and turned dreaming about what it would be like to have you next to them instead, but it did nothing to soothe the growing flames of their obsession with you.

And then right out of thin air you appeared, needing them. It had to be fate, the way you came back to them like a lost dog, dependent upon them and their helping hand. Talon had finally done a good thing for them, and that was bringing you two together again. They had been more than willing to do anything for you, but you were so shy and timid. They had to be careful, or else you’d run off and never come back. They had to put on a facade, but was it really a facade when it felt so genuine with you? Because they did care about you, they’d go so far as to say that they loved you. However, they knew you were fragile, knew that this pillar of trust they had built up could be snapped in an instant if you caught a whiff of how they truly felt, because no matter how right this felt to Venture, they knew it was wrong . They had to do this the right way, and that meant keeping their feelings for you a secret.

At first, there wasn’t much to worry about. They had you all to themself by default, considering if anyone saw you they’d send you right back to prison. As they had promised, they kept you hidden away from the prying eyes of everyone at the dig site, whisked away where they wouldn’t find you while they helped you rebuild. They helped you change your appearance, making you look different than what you were before but still vaguely the same. They gave you a place to rest your head, and provided you with food and water. They took care of you, like any good partner would. You probably didn’t see it that way, but Sloane had convinced themself you would with due time. You’d recognize their effort and fall into their arms. You’d let them touch you more, and you’d open up to them and share all your secrets like good partners did. But you didn’t.

No matter what they did, you always seemed to be so far from their reach, withdrawing from their attempts to touch or soothe you when you clearly needed it, and each time they respected that boundary, though patience was wearing thin. You were so close, how could they not want to touch you? They always made due with taking things of yours. Articles of clothing in particular that smelled strongly of you. They loved your smell. It was a unique scent, and they always felt so perverted sniffing your shirts in private. The shame fueled their hunger though, and occasionally they’d get bold enough to take your underwear. Not often, but when they really wanted to.

When you finally cultivated a new identity, they helped you get a job at the Petra site, if only to keep you closer to them. You may have been part of the bio-archaeology team, but you were still theirs. They had been concerned at first, afraid that someone there might catch your eye and take you away from them, but you did wonders in keeping people away. The others might have called you ‘rude’ and ‘scary’, but Venture knew the true you, them and them alone. You kept the rest of the world at bay, and kept them close.

If it wasn’t obvious before, it was now. The two of you were clearly meant for each other, and everyday that passed that you still treated them as a simple friend pained them more and more. Why couldn’t you see what the two of you had? You still tortured them, tempting them to get closer, close enough to touch. Sloane was content playing a well-behaved best friend, but they couldn’t explain that aching desire for more that coiled in their gut as time ticked by.

Despite their own turmoil, you were happy and that was all that mattered. As upsetting as it was seeing you start to open up with others, they couldn’t deny that the look on your face was worth it. Nothing compared to what they could make you feel, but it satisfied them knowing that you were getting what you wanted and what they had promised you’d have. Peace. And they planned on keeping it that way. You believed that Talon couldn’t find you. But the truth was they had, and tried several times to take you away and back into their nasty clutches. But every time, Sloane was there to stop them, dispatching them all with ease. Every time they rammed their drill into a talon goons body, piercing and mangling their flesh, they always thought of you. How this was all for you and only you.

Every bone broken, scream muffled, and skull cracked beneath a boot was all done in your name. These guys wanted to take you back to a place that hurt you, wipe that sweet precious smile off your face forever and undo all of Sloane’s progress. Sloane didn’t feel bad watching their blood stain their clothes because they deserved it, and if they could they would’ve killed every single person working for Talon, but they needed to stay here with you to keep a watchful eye and keep you blissfully unaware. These disgusting bastards wouldn’t ruin you again, not if Venture had anything to say about it.

Tonight was no different as they carelessly tossed more mangled bodies into a ravine, a small smirk of satisfaction evident on their features. How many more would they send before they stopped trying? Then again, it always gave them a rush when they took out these idiots, thinking about how grateful you’d be to them if you knew. Sometimes, when you pulled away they wanted to drag you closer, shake you and confess everything. Confess their love, the things they’d done to those Talon goons who were trying to snag you, maybe then you’d appreciate them. Perhaps you’d even reciprocate their love.

It was becoming too much for them to bear, and as ashamed as they were of the action, they had tried to get closer to you while you were sleeping. They always wanted to consider that it would be the perfect moment to get close to you. They underestimated how light of a sleeper you were though, panicking when you opened your eyes and caught them right in the act. They had to come up with an excuse, one that you surprisingly believed before they excused themself. It wasn’t their proudest moment, but at least they knew not to try it again. You were sleeping now, tired from the day's events, but Sloane lay wide awake in their bed, twitching with anticipation. They hadn’t seen you most of the day, with both of you being busy. As much as they loved what they did, Sloane loved you more.

They wanted to visit you now more than ever, feeling hot and bothered after dispatching those goons, but knowing damn well you wouldn’t allow it. They thought about it several times, coming to you after finishing them off, covered in their blood and giving you a kiss. Your hands roaming them as you praised them for their work. They huffed softly, hands grabbing at their shirt as they flipped over.

~NSFW START~

They were feeling particularly needy tonight, pulling out a shirt of yours they had recently taken. They pressed it to their nose, inhaling deeply and taking in your delectable scent. It still smelled so strongly of you, and it brought them inexplicable joy. They practically salivated over it, breath coming out in whiny gasps. They sat up slightly, taking their pillow and pushing it beneath their body. They let out a soft growl as their hips grinded against the pillow, imagining it to be you instead as they closed their eyes and sniffed again. They shuddered as they let out a breath, whimpering as they continued to grind some more against the pillow.

They thought about how vocal you could be, imaging your hands roaming over their muscles, massaging them as you went. Your legs wrapping around them as they provided you with pleasure, your face contorting in ways they could only cause. The praise you’d give as they followed your every command. Sloane moaned softly as they humped the pillow faster, rougher, free hand curling into the sheets as they pressed their face further into your shirt.

“Joder querido por favor~ I need you~” They whispered the words in a hushed tone, slowing their pace for a moment. “ He sido tan bueno, lo prometo~”

Gods, they could imagine how you would feel, body pressed against theirs, flesh touching flesh as the sound of your love would reverberate through the room. The two of you could care less who would hear, it would just be the both of you in the moment. The marks they would leave on you, nipping at as much exposed flesh as they could, marking you up and claiming you as theirs. You’d beg them for more and they’d happily oblige, giving you what you wanted. They could be gentle, or they could be rough. They could pin your hands and make you squirm and beg for their touch, or perhaps you’d like to be on top, having them worship every inch of you and beg to touch you. Beg you for relief.

“Dios ya no puedo más, te necesito mucho mi amor por favor~” Their voice was high pitched and whiny, desperation laced in their tone. “Tell me how good I’ve been for you~ Fuck ~ You feel so good mi amor~ Tell me how good I make you feel~”

Their moans gradually got louder the deeper into the fantasies they sank, desperately wishing for the real thing. They could only think about how soon enough it could be you, you just needed a little more coaxing and to realize your feelings that you undoubtedly had for them. They could see it in the way you looked at them, feel it when you touched them. Your words were so gentle with them, and you were so sweet. God they couldn’t wait to have you. They’d take it as slow as you needed if only it meant you’d be closer to them. How would your lips finally feel once you let them get close enough? How would you taste?

“Mine, mine, mine. All mine. Only mine.” Their words were muffled, coming out in short growls, matching the pace they had set for themself. “Eres toda mía, mi amor, toda mía~” The words came out in a chant, laying some unknown claim on you for their own sake and sanity.

Sloane slowed their movement against the pillow, thinking about how whiny you’d get when they went slower than you liked, and then picked up again in the same beat to keep you on your toes. Their thrusts got rougher as they groaned, panting desperately as they approached their climax, their last few thrusts desperate as they let out one last cry, sweat dripping from their body as they relaxed, nuzzling their face into your shirt.

~NSFW END~

Sloane instantly felt much more relaxed, feeling the tension leave their body. Such a mess they’d made. They thought about laying next to you, giving you soft kisses and praise as they cleaned you up and snuggled close to go to bed. Unfortunately, they weren’t with you and couldn’t sleep while being such a mess. They lifted themself from their bed, tucking your shirt away again for a later date. For now, they needed to clean themself up, grabbing a towel as they headed for the showers. In due time the two of you would be together. You’d recognize your love for them, and they’d be waiting for you with open arms, no matter how long it took. Until then, they were content just being near you, protecting you from afar.

#writers #overwatch #overwatch 2 #venture x reader #venture overwatch #sloan cameron #yandere

43 notes · View notes