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inupibaldspot · 4 months

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From you, For him

| Part 2 of At him, For him

Note ₊˚⊹♡ : Normal like no curse and stuff AU where Gojo is in love with Geto’s lover but this time he has the chance to change everything. This contains time travel!

I wrote it in a way you can understand what’s happening even if your don’t read part 1 btw

·:*¨༺ Part 1 ༻¨*:·

Gojo Satoru feels as if he can’t breathe.

He inhales. His chest hurts and he has a horrible attempt at keeping his glazing eyes in check as he fakes a smile and claps his hands together; there was a blur silhouette of Geto and you in a distance in tears ,both wearing matching rings.

“Woah—! Congratulations you two.” Shoko smiles wildly as she brings her hands close to her mouth,cheering. She briefly turns to Gojo and looks back at the couple. “Keep it together,Gojo… you’ve done that for years so why bother showing it now.”

Gojo lets out a laugh. “How cruel…” of course Shoko knows he has had this unrequited love for years. He breathes out. “I’ll head out for a second.”

Shoko nods as she reaches out and puts a cigarette and lighter in his pocket. He mutters a ‘thanks’ as he opens the door, cold breeze immediately greeting him. He breaths in again as his hands search for warmth in his pockets, turning to the alleyway.

Once when he is secluded, he brings out the piece of cigarette Shoko handed him earlier as he places it in between his lips, his hands bringing up the lighter with one on the lighter as the other hand wraps to protect the small flame.

He did not smoke often—more like he didn’t even the last last time he did. Gojo sucks in a breath, his throat feels hot but his chest is lighter, no-he remembers smoking back in high school simply because of Shoko and Geto. His only two friends would leave him for smoke breaks and he didn’t want to be left alone so he simply picked up the habit.

Gojo quit after he met you since he didn’t feel the need to tag along Geto and Shoko anymore.

Somewhere in between college,meeting you and now, he didn’t seem to care anymore.

“Hey kid.”

“Fuck!” Gojo jumps, his teeth biting into the cigarette as his eyes glare sharply in the direction of the sound. A man sits along the far end of the alley way, away from him.

The white haired man contains his jumped heartbeat as he walks over the man who called him over. His eyes trail the dress he wore; it was a traditional dark piece of clothing and beads around his hand. This man was cosplaying as a Priest.

He didn’t say the word ‘cosplay’ lightly because first, to begin with, the man in front had a ‘magic ball’ in front of him as if he was waiting for people to share their future and second, he wasn’t too serious because boy—! That monk had thick hair on his head, not the shaven look you’d normally see.

Gojo met scammers; near the shopping center, outside popular restaurant and tourist attractions, by his house ringing on his doorbell and right now, infront of him.

“What‘cha gonna tell me,old man.” Gojo says as he peers in, with also taking in a puff of smoke. “That I’ll be having a wife and two kids in my 30s… If it’s not that, it means one of you is lying.” By ‘one of you‘ refers to the scammer-I mean fortune teller he let in his house because he was bored.

“Hahaha-! That’s not it.” The man laughs as he faces Gojo directly, it was then when he finally notices a stitch mark which stretches across his forehead. “Just wondering if you’d ever regretted things… ‘things’ which you wished you could go back and change..”

Gojo laughs as he drops the half-piece of cigarette on the ground, stomping on it. No long interested. “Of course. I still wish I could go back in time and not erase my answers because my teacher made all the answers to the MCQ ‘c’ just when I didn’t study.”

Fuck—just why did Yaga REALLY do that? Gojo thinks back at the thought.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Gojo turns when he hears the man speak.

The man stands close—very close to him as his hands were making a V-sign (a peace sign) , fingers pointed near his eyes before the old man was stabbed into his eyes.

“Oh my god— shit! That hurt, old man.” Gojo places his hands on his eyes as he tries to soothe the pain from it. “What are you trying to do—huh…?”

He blinks once.

Twice.

He takes a deep breath. ‘It’s fine.’ He thinks to himself. ‘I’ve just lost my mind a tiny bit because y/n and Suguru are getting married.’

Gojo let out the breath and opened his eyes. Same scene. He was by a tree, near a building; he remembered this place being behind the building for the Class 1-3 who were studying the normal curriculum whereas advanced classes of class 4-5 students were in another building.

“What the actual heck is happening?” Gojo grumbles as he looks at the calendar on his phone. He was back in high school. He was sent back in time by about 7 years. “Fuck… I guess that man wasn’t a quack….”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“That’s why I need you to help.” You wiggled your toes in your shoes as you stand, smiling. The teacher,Yaga Masamichi, was in front of you, sitting on his chair as he continued to talk- maybe complain would be a better word- about a certain boy from the advanced class. “The boy is smart but he lacks discipline! He needs someone as hardworking as you and maybe it’ll rub on to him.”

You’ve heard of Gojo Satoru. You’ve never seen him but he was very infamous in high school . First, for being the son of the Gojo Estate. Two, for being a very tall, conventionally attractive boy. Third, for being a delinquent.

And that last part bothers you a lot, you’ve heard him get into fights, rumors of him smoking along the alleyway, ripping love letters into pieces and recently he skipped over all his tests making him fail his mid-terms.

You gulp. Hope he doesn’t beat you up…

Just then the door to the staff room slides open. You see enter, he was tall with white hair and lashes and the eyes in the most beautiful shade. No way this was Gojo right? He was so— beautiful.

Did he just make eye contact with you?

“Gojo come here.” Yaga calls out as he huffs. Gojo clears his throat as he walks to the teacher. When he was close enough Yaga continued. “This is y/n and I’m assigned to be your teacher. She’ll make sure you get all your works done plus make you study for the reassessment for the exam you skipped on.”

You watch Gojo who was towering beside you raise his hands and brought it up to his face, but from the angle you see the upward turn on the corner of his lips. Why was he smiling?

“Isn’t this -he points at you- from the normal department?” You huff when you were referred to as ‘this’. “You sure she is smart?”

“Don’t mess with y/n just because she isn’t from the advanced class— And also! In the last exam she was placed third overall , right below Suguru.” Yaga shouted back.

Your eyes trail back to him when the boy beside you seemed to still, You’ve heard of Geto Suguru too. Apparently a boy from the advanced class who was also popular for his good looks. But not only that— he had a delicate aura around him which makes people like him and to add on he was very much academically smart.

Gojo lets out a breath, as if it were more of an amazement in your opinion. You watch him take a small step back as he turns around and gives you a smile, god was unfair when he crafted this smile. “Then please take care of me, my tutor.” His face was close to yours.

‘My.’ You face almost burst with heat.

“Gojo stop bothering y/n.”

“Ouch—! That hurt sensei.”

Ever since then, once you hear the bell ring indicating school was over for the day, there would be Gojo poking his head into your class with a boyish grin plastered on his face, he takes your book-filled bag, slings it over his shoulder as you guys would walk to the library.

He sometimes passes by your classroom which is in the opposite building whenever he wants to go to the restroom in between classes—I mean he never did specify which restroom, hoping to catch a glimpse of you.

And when he does, his gaze flickered towards you, taking in the way your gaze reflected the warm sun from outside.It becomes clear to Gojo then that even now, despite everything—in between ever but of confusion, anger and guilt, he doesn't actually want to lose you. To his best friend. To anyone else.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Warm.

The way the curtains fluttered from the gentle wind, letting in a cool breeze and a glow of the evening sun and you. You sitting not even an arm's length away and just like the pace of his heart which picked up, pushing every worry he could still have further and further away because there was no space for those in that moment.

There was just you. And he could feel your presence a lot closer now, her warmth not far away from him.

God, you were beautiful.

So beautiful, he would not mind spending the rest of his life memorizing each feature belonging of yours.

“Stop staring at me.” You let down the pen you were holding, looking away from your homework.

“I can’t stop.” He admitted.

You huff, the smirk on Gojo widened as he could see a faint color rush to your cheeks. “Just do your work…” you wave him off as you grumble.

“I’m already done,love.” He continues his teasing.

You pink as you let out a small shriek at the nickname; you rush close to him as you cover your hands on his mouth. “Shut up—Gojo, I don’t want to be murdered by your fangirls because of this.”

He pecks your hands by pursing his lips forward, into the palm of your hands making you shriek once more pulling away.

“Gojo!” You glare at him as you reach your hands out and comically wipe your hands on his blazer as he laughs at your reaction. He leans forward as he looks at your books. “What’s this?” He asks.

“Ah…” you say as you bring out a book closer to him. “I’m studying for my entrance exam for this university.”

“Already?” But that’s like months away.

“Yeah.” Your voice is laced with a smile, gojo almost sees shining glitters surrounding you. “It’s like… kind of my dream as a kid to go here.”

Gojo laughs at how adorable you sounded. “Why that university though?”

“My parents-“ you turn almost too quickly to face him but then you stop yourself as you clear your throat. “My parents went there and that’s how they met and fell in love.”

“Ah…” Just like you and Geto… His heart pains again as he is reminded.

You bend down as you lean your head on the table, letting out a sigh with your hands on your sides. “I hope I get in though…”

“You will.” He says confidently. He knows you will. “Nerds like you will get in.”

“Gojo, I’m not a nerd.”

“Whatever you say, princess.”

“I’m not princess either!”

“Sure thing, love.”

“Oh— Gojo,stop that!”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“I need you to be serious, Satoru!”

He listens to you shout, even without turning to your direction he could basically sense you ‘huffing and puffing’, a habit you took till adulthood. He reaches out into the bushes, pushing the leaves away. “I am—! Sheesh, let me breathe.” Gojo laughs.

You two were currently near the patch of grass by the football ground; you had lost your key to the music club room—a room which was basically unused but you guys needed a room so you two can continue on with your study lessons.

You bend to look over the bushes while Gojo does around the bushes checking every shrub. “Oh lucky— someone’s cigarette and lighter is hidden here.” His smile widens as he reaches out for the gift, someone had kept here. “Satoru, don’t steal others' stash.” He puts it down upon hearing your words.

“So this where you go after classes,Satoru?”

He knew it was inevitable but he hoped he could extend it for as long as he could.

In front of him, holding a key was Geto Suguru, smiling at him with Shoko, a lollipop in her mouth peers over from beside him. “What you doing?”

Geto throws him the key at him which is catches instantly.He wanted the two of his friends meet you but he selfishly hoped it would be after like maybe, after you and Gojo date. Wow—what an optimistic! Gojo gulps, afterall what would he do if the two of you fall in love again?

“You found it!” You jump, unaware that the two figures were his friends. You turn your head to look at him, at him. Despite Geto Suguru standing near you, you looked at Gojo. The white haired boy’s heart pulsed, the slow and steady pump now erratic and heavy with emotions. Just you looking at him with a smile, at him like he was the only one on the planet m. For the first time.

“Who is this?” Shoko says as walks to to the bush and sticks her hands in. You laugh. “That cigarette was yours?” Shoko nods.

“This… this is y/n.” Gojo grumbles, speaking low. “She is helping me with my reassessment.”

“That’s what you get for skipping assignments and test.” Shoko teases.

Geto laughs.

Gojo eyes at your reaction and sighs in relief when you were still acting the same. Thank god, there was nothing of that ‘love at first sight’ going on. “I don’t need to take those test.Even Yaga knows I’m smart.”

Your roll your eyes. “I guess we won’t have those study sessions of now on, Gojo.”

“Wha— no! I need it.” Gojo jumps, as he comically starts shaking you, as if he got the most shocking news of the century. “No- nope! You can’t do that. I need you—!”

“Geto, let’s get going now.” She turns. Shoko looks over to Gojo, they make eye contact and the brown hair girl smiles.

He knows that smile.

That’s the smile Shoko gives when ever she figures out something. And equipped with a teasing look, Gojo is certain she knows that he is in love with you. “Good luck,Gojo.” With his studies or with you? Geto gives you guys a wave as he also turns around and walks way.

From then onwards, it’s as if the friendship which you guys have in the future,college days were happening now. Hanging out, study sessions, sometimes sneaking into parties and café date; the four of you. Just like right now as you’re in Gojo’s room, a flat rented nearby your future college.

“No way.” Shoko starts. “We’re all going to be attending the same college.” Her smile widens when you cheer and jump into her arms, she quickly looks over and sees a fond smile on Gojo’s face…hilarious!

Geto laughs as he takes a sip on his coffee as the two girls snuggle closer to each other. “Did you know about this?” He peers over to Gojo who finally seemed broken from his trance—you.

Gojo nods. “Yeah… I mean I’ve seen her study for her exams.” He clears his throat. “Have you played the new ‘digimon’ game?” He changes topic, whenever Geto speaks of you or to you, it makes him feel small. This isn’t good. He relishes this yet it was suffocation. Gojo would never hate his best friend—never, but sometimes it’s insecurity and sometimes it’s guilt which swallows him whole. ‘Is this okay?’

Shoko breaks away from the hug and she pulls on your cheeks fondly, she thinks you’re the most adorable human as she turns to Geto. “Smoke break.” Geto smiles and nods, following behind Shoko who led the way.

Gojo turns to you, eyes carefully trying to take in your presence that is before he notices something—your eyes are ‘lingering.’ He follows your gaze, carefully in the direction.

You were looking at Geto.

All emotions are wiped from his face. Gojo knew this could happen, you can fall in love with Geto all over again. He was the one who was messing with fate and time, yet— it hurt.

You turn to Gojo, your face tilts up to meet his gaze as your lips turn into a teasing smile which quickly flatters when you see Gojo’s expression. Your heart settles and softens, you relax and reach over the table to grab one of his hands. “…Satoru?”

He turns to you, and smiles. “Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

“No…just thinking.”

You gulp wondering why it felt as if suddenly there was a huge rift when they were barely centimeters apart; for someone as big as Gojo his voice was so—so small. “…About?” You were almost scared to ask.

“Are you in love with Suguru?” Gojo beats himself for this, he has gone and done it now!

You tilt your head. “where did that come from?”

“Friends don’t give each other love-filled lingering looks.” He scoffs. “So tell me-“ no he was being pushy. Gojo felt so backed into a corner for a moment but when he locked eyes with you, he was hurting you with the way he was acting.

He stands up. “I think I need some fresh air.”

“If I did love him, what would you do?”

Were you testing him?

“Please—please don’t fall for anyone but me…” he mumbles.

You watch as he slumps down on the floor, on his knees, burying his face into his hands, curling up almost as if to protect himself. Gojo is no longer confident egoistic boy you know, right now he seemed so weak; as if he was tired after a long journey. “I have surrendered myself to you for all of time; past, present and future I am yours…”

Your head is dizzy with all this information. You need time, you need clarity. Gojo feels like he is losing himself in his thoughts and also rambles with no coherence to what his mind has to say. “I don’t know what do do with this emotion but if I try to stop them they overflow and-”

His heart seemed to thud to a stop in his chest and then start up again erratically, hands seemed to be incapable of doing anything other than hang close by his sides.

“Satoru, I love you…” you whisper and it is only then when he realizes you were also on your knees in front of him, thumbs wiping tears from his cheeks. “I’m sorry for joking— I don’t love Geto. It’s you I love. Don’t hate me?”

How can he hate you when you were still his everything: you were his everything even when you were intertwining hands with someone else?

“It’s me?” He breathes out. “Did you say you’re in love with me?”

You nod.

“Oh wow.” He says which makes you laugh.

“I love you…” He says, years of these words inside the depth of his heart, was dug out. “From the bottom of my soul, I’m head over heels for you, my love.”

You almost cry at his tone, so gentle.

He caresses your hair, tenderly, running his fingers through the soft, silky strands. When he eventually has his hands on your cheeks; your cheeks flushing as he gazes at you, captivated by your presence. Your eyes sparkle with wonder, your lips plush and rosy.

You are flawless, perfect in this moment and beautiful in his embrace.

Gojo didn’t even realize when he started to get so close to you. His lips pressed against her pulse in a kiss before he nipped the skin.His limbs burned where he touched you, you were warm. So it was cold after all, he realized somewhere along the line. His hands were freezing, clinging to your lower back.

Gojo wants to stay like this, holding you for a minute longer or forever.

A whisper in his head was telling him to let go—that it wasn’t right, but Gojo wouldn't. He was hanging onto a life line, it hurt, but if he let go now, he would drown.

Gojo was vulnerable. And you kiss him back. Kiss him till he is fine. Kiss him until all his worries fly— till he understands, you are equally so stupidly in love with him.

Unbeknownst to you two, Shoko peeks over inside the door, a small crack reveals what’s inside “You think they’re done?”

Geto laughs. “Of course not…but give them more time and they’ll be in bed.”

Shoko laughs lightly making sure she isn’t spotted yet as she then peers over to the taller boy beside her. “What about you? You good?”

“Yeah… it was just a crush.” Geto looked at Shoko from the corner of his eyes and his lips curl into a smile. Shoko was always so observant.

Taglist ˙✧˖° 🫧 ⋆｡—I tagged people who voted for time travel! Hope you guys don’t mind: @uuu55r64z46 @leviswifey-act62 @royaleashlyn @bakananya @bejwls @ritsatoru@washeduphasbeen @satorus-babygirl

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sinofwriting · 1 month

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Under His Wing - Jenson Button

Words: 1,177 Summary: Oscar had thought when Mark had taken his sister under his wing that it was a great idea. Turns out it was the worst idea in the world as he stares at a picture of Jenson and his sister kissing. Note(s): Reader is Oscar’s sister. Large age gap between her and Jenson. No part two will be written.

Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund | Part of Sin's 5k & B-Day Celebration

Oscar had four sisters. All younger than him and all equally as annoying and he didn’t have a favorite. It would be unfair really. But if he was to have a favorite sister? It would be Y/N.

They were nearly twins, just ten months apart, but you’d never think so with the way she always tagged along with him everywhere.

When he moved to the UK for his racing career, six months later she joined him. When he moved out of boarding school and into a flat, she joined him. She joined him at races, at pr and press events, she always joined him. And thankfully when Mark became his manager in 2020 he recognized how important she was to him, really how important his family was to him, and as soon as she got her degree she was working with Mark.

Oscar had been beyond grateful, because she loved f1 just as much as he did, she just didn’t have an interest in driving. She did want a career in it and Mark had given her that opportunity without Oscar having to beg whatever team he was a part of to give her a chance or make her an employee of his, which would have not worked for either of them.

He’s beyond grateful for the chance that Mark gave her, for what Mark has done for him, for his career, for taking them both under his wing, but now as he stares at the photo on his phone, he wishes that he never let Mark Webber met his sister.

—

“Jenson.” She giggles as he presses kisses to her neck. He grins at the sound, nipping at the thin skin and reveling in her gasp. “Yes, sweetheart?” Her temple presses briefly against his as she gently shakes her head. “I want a kiss.” He can hear the pout on her lips, the wide-eyed look she has on her face, as she tries to get what she wants. Not, he thinks, that she really has to try and convince him to give her anything.

“Come here, sweetheart.” He murmurs, turning her so she’s facing him and sure enough, she’s pouting up at him, her bottom lip sticking out beautifully. “You want a kiss?” She nods. Leaning down, he kisses her, taking that bottom lip of hers in between his own. “Is that better?” “Much.” She sighs, making him kiss her again.

Releasing her, he watches as she goes over to her bag and pulls out of her phone. A joke is on the tip of his tongue about kids and their phones these days, but his dominant hand is pulling his own phone out of his pants pocket, wanting to check his messages before seeing if he can convince her to join him in the shower, a light sweat clinging to him from their hike.

His eyebrows furrow at the sheer amount of missed calls and texts he has and he quickly answers the next call.

“Mark, Is everything alright?” “Jenson.” “What’s going on?” He asks, shooting a concerned glance at Y/N, whose looking at her phone, confused. “Are you in California right now?” “Yes.” “Are you with anyone?” His eyebrow raises, “no. Why?” “So, Y/N Piastri, Oscar’s sister and my assistant isn’t with you.” Jenson freezes. “How did you?” The older cuts him off. “You two were spotted on a hike, kissing.” “Fuck.” He drags a hand over his face while the one holding his phone, pulls the device away from him ear and mouth a bit. “Sweetheart, we’ve got a bit of a problem.”

“Does the problem have anything to do with why Oscar has nonstop been calling and texting me?” She asks, moving back over to him and he winces as she watches her let another call from Oscar just ring through. “We got spotted on our hike.” He tells her, as he puts his phone on speaker. “Mark called as well.” He doesn’t mention any of the other names he also saw littering his phone screen, that could wait until after. “How bad is it?” “PR wise?” Jenson’s nose wrinkles, face twisting in disgust at how that’s the first thing Mark says, considers, even though it’s his job in some sort. “Not too bad. There’s a lot of shock, questions. It’s more Oscar I’m worried about.” “He’s not happy.” “Happy?” Mark laughs. “He apparently went ballistic seeing the photos. Lily called me, she was with him when he saw. Last update I had from her, he was trying to get Max to give him his private jet so he could come to California to kill Jenson. Since y’know he found out through twitter that his little sister is doing something with a guy twice her age.” “You introduced us.” Jenson protests. “Yeah, because I thought you’d be good friends. Not,” he pauses unsure of what to call it. “Dating?” She fills in for him. “Yeah, dating.” He sighs. “Did anyone know before this?” “No.” They both answer at the same time. Mark sighs again. “Alright, well it’s time to start talking. You need to call your own manager Jenson, Y/N call Oscar, we can handle our side of the PR after Jenson gets his figured out.” “Got it. Sorry, Mark.” “Don’t worry about it, kid.”

Before Jenson can say anything the call is ended and he’s staring at his phone, bemused. “I think he likes you more than me.” She laughs. “Well, do you blame him?” He quickly shakes his head. “No. Be stupid to not like you.” He dips his head down, wanting a kiss, but she steps away, shaking her head. “No, not happening. You can get a kiss after you talk to your manager and I talk Oscar out of killing you.” Jenson winces, that was not going to be a fun conversation. “I’m alright with a bit of light maiming.” “Jenson.” “Sweetheart,” he chuckles at the serious look on her face. “He’s going to want to kill and hurt me. I’m sure your mum and dad are the same way. I’m sure next time I see Mark I’m going to get a nice elbow to the ribs. It’s just what’s going to happen. I made my piece with that after our fifth date.” She pouts and he can’t help but pull her into a hug. “I don’t want you to get hurt and I don’t want anyone fighting about this.” “I know.” He kisses the top of her head. “And we can hope that it doesn’t happen, that it goes more smoothly than how it feels currently, but we both knew that us being together would rock the boat.” “I think we need a bigger boat.” He snorts. “Maybe. Now let's make our calls, get them done and over with yeah?” “Yeah.” She sighs, pulling away from him before smiling and then she’s pouting up at him again, just like earlier. “Kiss?” He shakes his head, but brushes their lips together for just half a second. “There ya go, sweetheart. Little something to tide you over.”

@crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @gothgirlez @namgification @KimmiB13 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou300morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803 @tallrock35 @casperlikej

#jenson button x reader #jenson button imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #the things i would let jenson do to me...#i mean what?#sins 5k bday bash fics

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xqueen-of-disasterx · 10 months

Text

Lonely

Paring: Innocent!reader x dads!friend!Nat

Summery: You looked lonely Natasha could fix that

Warnings: SMUT, pervy Nat, innocent reader, (legal) age gap, masturbation, intersex nat, oral, fingering, p in v, slight degradation, pet names, anal play, manhandling, fluff at the end, implied aftercare,

Word count: 1.8k

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional!

AN: @xxforeverinadayxx it’s a bit late but I hope you like it

Masterlist

ꕀꕀ ─── ⋆⋅ ✨🌞✨ ⋅⋆─── ꕀꕀ

Natasha knew very well how morally wrong her behavior was but how could she help herself when you were this cute. She was aware of the fact that Steve had an adult daughter but until this burning summer in Italy she had yet to meet you. But time came and Natasha found herself living with the most beautiful girl alive. Natasha had tried to spend as much time as she could with you, trying to find out everything about you. She’d take you on cycling trips and read to you your favorite novel while laying in the grass. You had been enchanted by Natashas presence. She was kind and yet smart. She happened to like the same authors as you and treated you like an adult, and not like your father who always shielded you. You didn’t want to accept it but you quickly had a crush on the older woman. In your eyes she was just perfect.

Who could’ve known that all of that was just a facade Natasha had put on to hide her true perverted fantasies. She had wanted you from the moment you first stepped down the stairs only wearing a light summer dress who looked so beautiful on you. She couldn’t flirt with you like she would with any other girl. No. Natasha had to be smart about it. She couldn’t risk Steve picking up on her true intentions with you. Natasha also of course didn’t want to do anything to you that you didn’t want. She might have been a pervert but she wouldn’t step over that boundary. Natasha knew exactly what she was searching for when she forged through your drawer. Her long fingers delicately caressing over the light pink cotton fabric of your panties. Her breathing was heavy as she quickly stuffs the the piece of fabric into the back pocket of her suit pants.

She’d do it like she did many times before on her summer vacation at your fathers mansion. Natasha would take the piece of clothing to her room and deep in the night when everyone else would be asleep her hands would find their way into her boxers. Moving her hand up and down her shaft as she whimpers your name quietly wishing it would be your smaller hands instead. She would grunt and moan muffled by her pillowcase. She’d cum into your panties cleaning her seed from the deep red tip of her cock. The next day while you would be in the garden she would put it back neatly folded hoping you would notice the difference which was a false hope. You weren’t aware why your “fresh” underwear had crusty but you chose to ignore it.

She quickly fled the room through the connected bathroom as she quickly hides the panty in one of the drawers of her nightstand. She moved on her turning to her bed as she grabs some book and pretended to read as she hears your light knocking on her door. “Come in Bambi” you could her her mumble as you pushed the heavy wooden door open. Her nicknames never failing to make you want to melt. Your feet make their way across the floor before you take a seat on the side of Natashas bed. “What brings you here” her voice was husky coming out almost as a whisper. You had your eyes located on your lap as you could hear Natasha move behind you. “I felt lonely” You could hear her chuckle in response as she moves beside you. “Is Steve home” You shook your head “He said that he won’t be home till late at night today”

Natashas smirk was devilish as she knew now was the time she could finally shoot her shoot. “And he left you all alone with me?” You didn’t answer her. The question was more rhetorical than anything. “Tell me pretty girl” her hands moved to your chin making you meet her lustful gaze “Do you feel something 'down there' when I touch you” Your cheeks turned a light shade of red. You were too embarrassed to say it but she was right. You slowly nod and making Natasha the happiest woman alive. “What do you do then” “W-Well I-” Natasha cut you off “No Олененок I want you to show me. Show me what you do to make those feelings go away” Your movements were shaky as you laid your fragile body on her kingsized bed. Your hands had found their way towards the waistband of your shorts as you slowly dragged them down your feminine legs. You had revealed your undergarments, a white pair with flowers on them. Natasha smirked as she saw the pair. She was familiar with it once having right her under her hips as she wished she had you instead. However her time had come, she had finally had you all to herself. You disposed of your panty too as you left your dripping cunt on full display for Natasha who was sitting between your spread ankles. Her breathing got more rapid as she could feel herself het harder and harder. Your hands had found their way towards your clit rubbing the bundle of nerves in tight circles as you kept releasing moan after. Natasha looked at you with a pitiful expression it was clear that you didn’t really knew what you were doing. The older woman highly doubt that you’ve ever managed to made yourself cum judging by your inexperienced movements.

“Let me help you pretty girl” Natasha was fast to strip from her shirt throwing it somewhere behind herself as she moved between your legs. Your legs were thrown over her shoulder as she took a long lick from the bottom of your cunt right up to your clit. Your hands carefully grabbed Natashas hair not wanting to hurt her. Natasha kitten licking between your folds, the taste making her hum deeply. The vibrations making you release soft moans. You tried to buckle your hips making the release seem closer. Natasha responded in slamming her forearm down on your hips grounding your hips. You whimpered and Natasha just laughed “Have you ever tried to you know use your little fingers Зайка” she mumbled against your puffy cunt. Forming words seemed incredibly difficult even through Natasha hadn’t really done anything “N-Never” you managed to get out. Natasha gave you a fake look of pity between your legs “Let’s pop that cherry shall we?” It was again a rhetorical question, how could you ever say no to Natasha. “Will it hurt” I whimpered looking at Natasha through hooded eyes. “Зайка, I’m not gonna lie it will hurt a bit but you will feel so good” She rubbed my thighs trying comfort me into believing her and I did.

“Do it… but be gentle… please” the last part came out mote desperate than you had intended to. “I’ll try Зайка” she whispered against the soft flesh of My stomach kissing her way down again. She carefully inserted one of her long fingers making me groan in pain as she ripped my hymen even drawing a few drops of blood on the white sheets. Natasha groaned as she saw and felt it. She knew it was wrong being obsessed with taking her friends daughters virginity but she couldn’t help herself. “Fuck baby you’re so tight” he breathed out as she can feel your walls clenching around her finger as she pushed it in and out. The pain of her fingers soon turned into pure pleasure as you moaned like a whore in a brothel. She added a second finger on which you clench down even harder sucking her in. “Fuck you’re even tighter then you thought you little slut.” Her movements got faster and rougher having me moan louder as you climax all over Natashas fingers and hand. You eyes are glued shut as you try to calm yourself.

You can feel Natashas strong hands on your hips turning you onto your stomach. Your face is pressed into the pillows as she pushes your hips up your knees touching the soft fabric of the sheets. You can hear the sipper of her pants followed by the sounds of her undressing. Natasha was painfully hard, her large member standing proud as she places herself behind you. Her tip pressed against your clit as you whimpered for her. “Are you ready for the real deal Зайка” She didn’t give you much time to respond as she pushed inside your hole making you scream out only for it to be muffled by the pillow case. She bottomed you out giving you some time to adjust to her girth. She whispered sweet nothings against you back until you gave her the go to go further.

Her pace started out slow not wanting to make you uncomfortable as the wet sound of skin clapping against each other filled the room mixed with both your groans and moans. Natasha pace was steady as the moans you released got louder and louder. Natashas hands gripped the flesh of you ass kneeling it before she got an idea. She spread your cheeks giving her the perfect look at your muscle ring. She spit on it only making you consciously of her actions. “Natty what are yo-” you got interrupted by your own scream as Natashas finger pushed past the ring the spit and your cum making a perfect lube. You clammed down hard in Natashas shaft as you were unexpectedly an anal whore. Your moans turned into screams the mixture of both penetrations making you climax in recored time. “Fuck you dirty slut you can deem yourself lucky I haven’t made you my breeding bitch yet” she mumbled pulling out of both holes before roughly throwing you to your back again. After a few more pumps with her large hands she came all of your stomach before laying down next to you.

She didn’t need long to recover from her high as she pushed some sweaty strands of hair behind your ear smiling like she didn’t just turn you into her whore. “Are you still lonely” you shook your head being too tired to even speak. She finally kissed your lips before picking you up bridal style and caring you into your shared bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up in a nice and warm bath shall we baby” she was just the woman for you.

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff smut #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff

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russellsppttemplates · 2 months

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Can i request Lando with bookworm!reader and he constantly buys books for reader and always takes pictures of her whilst she reads and one day he like goes through her wish list and buys a bunch of books from it to surprise her

note: this is the dream, okay? okay

"Do you remember if I've bought this one before?", Lando asked Max as walked along the bookshop.

"You've bought her so many I can't remember - you posted a picture of her reading in the jpg account, maybe we can check in the shelf?", he suggested, getting his phone from his pocket and zooming in on the pictures.

"Well? Do you see it in there?", Lando asked as he tried to balance the books he was sure you didn't have yet, a little impatient because Max was taking so long.

"It's not easy to go through all the pictures! There are hundreds of them, just this week you posted what? Four pictures of her reading by the bookshelves alone, it takes time to analyse them!", Max defended himself.

"Look how pretty she is", Lando cooed as he looked at Max's phone, "whipped much?", Max teased him, "I don't care what you say, and I'm not seeing the book, so I'm getting it for her", Lando stated.

"Let me take a picture of you and your new book, baby", Lando cooed, kissing up your thighs as you lay on the sofa. He was resting his head on your thighs, one of your hands holding a book while the other played with his hair, all while he was fiddling with his camera and sending the latest photos to his phone so he could sort through them while you read the book that had arrived yesterday in the mail.

"I have no make-up on, Lando, and I'm barely dressed", you blushed, looking at his t-shirt you were wearing along with a lacy number for your panties, "I'll keep everything covered, I don't want anyone to see what's for my eyes only", he smirked, changing the camera settings and snapping a couple of photos of his favourite view.

"Is this Y/N's letter for Santa? It's still a bit early for that", Jon chuckled as Lando asked him to hold his phone with a notes app titled "Y/N's wishlist".

"It's her wishlist for books she wants to read, and I'm surprising her when she comes home today from her work trip!", Lando smiled, "I'll put them in the basket and you'll make them off, okay?", Lando checked before he began looking for the ones he knew by heart.

"You have two books that are the same here", Jon pointed out, "no, it's not", Lando said as his trainer quirked a brow, "it's not like that, that is; this is a special edition one with pretty pages, they have doodles on them and I know she won't buy it for herself so I'm going to", he smiled.

"You'd think someone dating you would ask for expensive jewelry or bags", Jon chuckled, knowing you weren't with Lando for the money, but he couldn't help but diss at some of the relationships he had seen at the paddock over the years.

"Y/N is not like everyone else - Oh, this one is out already? This is going to be an even bugger surprise then! C'mon, Jon, there are still about ten books left to find!", Lando urged him.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#lando norris blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

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kentopedia · 10 months

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hi rylie!! thank you sm for the recs! and since you said your inbox is open …

could i maybe request a fic where nanami proposes to you? like a spur of the moment thing where it’s not really the “right time” but he just springs out the question bc he wants you forever 🥹😮‍💨

thank you a bajillion! <3

my everything

FEATURING: nanami kento x f!reader — wc: 3.1k

SUMMARY: after nanami remembers how short life can be, he realizes he wants to spend the rest of his with you.

CONTENTS: takes place during jjk 0, slight angst per usual, marriage proposals, sorcerer!reader, nanami's pov, happy ending

note: thank you for this sweet request!! i kind of took it and ran w it, but this was so much fun to write :) i hope you enjoy lovely!! <;33

Kento couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so afraid.

The gnawing feeling of dread was as heavy as the ring in his pocket, the one that he now regretted hanging onto for so long. Shinjuku streets were drenched in the blood of so many curses, humans, and sorcerers and it sickened him, reminded him that life could be cut short at any moment. There was a reason that he’d quit Jujutsu so many years ago, and he started to wonder if he’d made the right decision in coming back.

Kento sorted through the bodies, scanned the mangled corpses for any sign of your familiar face. He never spotted you, but he wasn’t certain if it was a relief that you were nowhere to be found.

Satoru stood at the edge of the street, his forehead lined with sweat, the pale bandages falling away from his icy eyes. Briefly, he dropped the façade that always lingered, and it was obvious how tired he was. How much everything had beaten him down in the last decade and refused to let up.

In that moment, Kento felt sorry for him. Then, Satoru resumed his usual air of arrogance, straightened his back, and the natural balance fell between them once more.

In just a few strides, Kento was upon him, his hair unruly, shirt wrinkled as the tie remained still crumpled around his hand. His muscles ached and he longed for a shower—though any of those trivial thoughts were outweighed by his incessant need to find you.

“Where is she?” The words hung in the air before Kento realized they’d left his lips at all.

Satoru hesitated, almost unwilling to hand over his confession so easily. “I sent her back to the school.”

Kento clenched his fists, but Satoru was defending himself before any irrational actions could be taken.

“She insisted, Nanami.”

Still, he couldn’t help but wish that Satoru had ignored your pleas, even if Kento was unsurprised that you’d volunteered to stand by the students’ side. You weren’t the type of person to let a few first and second years go up against a special grade on their own, no matter how strong they were.

Satoru was squeezing Kento’s shoulder before he had even noticed the movement. Something in his expression had darkened, and though Kento normally would’ve shoved him off, put some distance between the two of them, he wasn’t sure he could remember a time when Satoru Gojo looked so somber. “I wouldn’t have sent them there if I wasn’t certain they’d be alright. I’m not as cruel as you might think.”

Kento knew that he had never behaved warmly towards his ex-classmate, but his opinion of the man was not as low as Satoru believed. For better or worse, Satoru loved his students, and though he pushed them, Kento knew he would never put them into an undefeatable danger.

He sighed, dropping his chin to his chest as Satoru’s hand fell away from his shoulder. “Just take me to her, Gojo.”

Satoru nodded, his lips curling down into a frown before he was teleporting them both back to the high school. There, the sight was even more dismal than Kento had expected. Many of the buildings had been destroyed and there were clear residuals from many sorcerers and curses. It was chaos, a grim sight to behold, and they weren’t even past the gate.

The anxiety twisted up in his chest, and inwardly, he prayed, hopeful that you were as fine as Satoru believed. That Geto, in every inch of his darkened heart, would hesitate when it came to killing an old friend.

“Hey,” Satoru said, tying up the blindfold once more, tightening it across his snowy hair. “She’s fine. This, I’m certain of.”

Kento’s lips were too dry to even offer a thank you, even though Satoru probably deserved it, for all the sacrifices he made, all the time. Instead, he nodded, and turned away from the tall man, haunted by a memory of him once as young as the students that had been left behind to protect humanity.

The leaves and gravel crunched under Kento’s feet as he ran up to the school, taking in the sheer destruction that had befallen the place he’d once called home. It made him ache with a longing for a simpler time, even though he could never go back, and the boy he’d been was long gone.

It was a brisk night—the kind of night that you normally would’ve spent bundled up inside, a bowl of hot soup between you, a movie running while you rested your head against Kento’s shoulder, dozing off before the credits rolled.

That’s how his night should’ve gone. Instead, he was searching every crushed piece of building, every pile of rubble in case your body had been caught between it.

Kento knew that the life of a sorcerer was a miserable one, that it was easy to lose the people you cared about, but he wasn’t certain he’d be able to go on for much longer if he lost you.

The ring was even heavier in his pocket, weighing him down, making it near impossible to move. If you hadn’t survived, Kento would never forgive himself for waiting so long to propose.

He called your name, ripping off his glasses in any attempt to see you better, wondering where you could’ve disappeared to, hoping that you hadn’t died alone.

The grounds, it seemed, had been hollowed out completely, and for the first time, Kento wondered if Gojo was wrong about his old friend.

Panic clawed up his chest, scratching at his throat, sending him into an illogical spiral before a small, shaky voice from behind him brought him back to reality, a light that parted through the black night, so sweet and heavenly to his ears.

“Kento?”

He turned, blinked as you swayed on your feet, making your way slowly down the steps of the main building. You walked awkwardly on your ankle, though you pushed on, heading towards him despite the pain.

For a moment, he watched, and then he was upon you without even acknowledging his movements, two long strides that brought him back to his salvation.

Kento pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your hair, breathing in the undeniable truth that you were still alive, even as you winced from his stronghold, your arms limp at your sides.

“Fuck,” Kento said, kissing you on the top of the head, your hairline, forehead. His eyes were glossy with tears that had been held back by his remaining shreds of hope. “You scared me there for a second, sweetheart.”

Your hands were on his chest, tracing his bicep before you curled your fingers around his jaw, bringing his gaze to your own. The touch was light, searching for any wounds that hid under his stained button-up. “I’m okay,” you said, softly, even though your face was bruised, your ankle twisted, and you were bleeding from more places than one. “Are you?”

Kento nearly laughed, wondering how you could even think to ask that question when he was untouched compared to you. Though, the amusement died immediately when you looked at him with so much concern that he melted, and he squeezed your hand in reassurance. “I’m okay.”

You nodded, expression serious as you attempted to ingrain the words into your mind, convince yourself that everything would be alright, even though things hadn’t been that way in nearly a decade. You kept your hands on him, as if waiting for some wounds to appear, for him to start bleeding into your palm, even though his injuries went no further than some sore muscles.

“And everyone else?”

Kento pulled you into his chest, running a hand up and down your back, wishing that he could heal you as easily as Shoko could, that a gentle touch could fix everything that had ever soiled your life. “Everyone’s fine,” he said, and as far as he knew, that was true. “A little beat up, but they’re alive.”

You exhaled, nodding into his chest as you rested your weight on him.

Kento would gladly bear it, would carry you all the way home if need be.

Briefly, you were silent, before you squeezed your eyes shut painfully and grimaced. “I got the students to Shoko, but they were all so hurt, so badly,” you swallowed, digging your fingers into his shirt, and Kento suddenly hated that Satoru hadn’t sent him with you, even if he was needed in the city. “Geto—”

You stopped yourself, and said nothing more, heartbroken by a boy you had too many fond memories of to ever see in a malicious light. It was difficult for everyone who’d ever known him back then, even if he hadn’t been that way in a decade.

Kento swallowed and you pushed away your tears, buried whatever conversation had transpired earlier between you and the dark-haired sorcerer.

Though, you’d resolved to be everything that Geto was not. That, at least, had been one positive outcome of his betrayal. “It’s not your fault, love.”

“I should’ve been more prepared to kill him, Kento. I’m not as strong as him, but I should’ve been able to hold him off until Gojo—” You choked back a cry before standing straight, shaking your head. “I tried too hard to reason with him. I left it to a student, and—”

“Hey,” Kento held your cheeks tight in his palms, forcing you to gain a better perspective of the situation. You looked up at him with soft, lost eyes, and Kento was filled with a swell of adoration for you, for the strength that came with the vastness of your heart.

Despite all you’d suffered, you’d managed a smile, been the light in Kento’s life, even when he’d wanted to do nothing but wallow in his own misery. If not for you, he wasn’t sure he ever would’ve come back to being a sorcerer at all. If not for you, Kento would’ve been lost, without an ounce of meaning in his life.

You were so foolish for thinking you hadn’t done enough, when you’d done more for him than he could put into words. Kento’s love for you was enormous, and in that moment, he would’ve let the rest of the world collapse in on itself if it meant you’d be safe and happy.

“Any of us would’ve done the same. Do you really believe that Gojo would’ve so easily killed Geto without speaking to him first? Would I have?”

The look didn’t dissipate from your irises, but you didn’t disagree with him, and that was enough. Kento kissed you, deeply, putting every ounce of affection into that single touch. Everyone had made it out of the night alive, and you’d been there for the students when it mattered the most. That was more than he could say, at least.

“I don’t want to lose anyone else, Kento,” you said, blinking at him once more with those sad eyes, ones that he never wanted to see on your normally bright expression. “I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t tear me apart.”

“You won’t lose me,” he promised, even though he knew that there was no way he could keep it, an oath that was almost destined to be broken. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You and I both know that you can’t be sure of that,” you said, backing out of his embrace to wrap a protective arm around yourself. The smile that graced your lips was sad, defeated. “Our world is not merciful enough.”

Kento knew that better than anyone, and he’d been reminded of it that evening. Reminded of the loss that befell those who wanted to fight for a better world, and even those who didn’t. Death didn’t give any warning, didn’t choose based off anything more than a random draw. “Then I’ll promise to love you until the day I die. That, at least, is a vow I won’t ever break.”

The ring in his pocket was practically vibrating now, reminding him how little the non-necessities of life mattered to him. All this time, he been waiting for the perfect moment, to plan everything down to the very last detail.

It seemed meaningless now.

You squeezed his hand, your face brightening despite your sorrow, lips tugging up sideways. “I can promise the same.” Kento’s heart swelled, and you kissed his cheek before dragging him a few steps forward so the two of you were walking in time together. “We should go check on the students. I want Shoko to check my ankle too. I’ve suffered worse, but it’s starting to swell pretty badly.”

Kento nodded, though his mind was too busy whirling with fears of a wedding that might never happen, that you might never know he was going to propose if he didn’t do it soon. You could be snatched away from him at any moment, or perhaps, he could leave this world with the ring still in his pocket, and you’d only know once you found it on his corpse.

Kento wouldn’t forgive himself, even in death, if he didn’t do what he’d been wanting to do for months.

With one arm around your shoulder, he reached the other into his pocket, twirling the box. He wasn’t even sure why he carried it with him that night when he could’ve so easily lost it in the middle of battle.

Yet, there it was, lingering, the constant weight in his pocket that rested against his hip. He swallowed, and you looked up at him, your lips falling back once more into a frown.

“Hey,” you said, slowing your pace, concern evident in your expression. “Is something wrong? Did something happen in Shinjuku, Kento? I didn’t mean to just brush off—”

Kento shook his head, shushing you quickly. It didn’t take him long to make up his mind, and he wrapped the tiny box up in his hand. “Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of your head again before holding the box out, presenting it to you calmly, without any spike in his normal tone. “I just was thinking about how I was going to ask you to marry me.”

You stopped completely, your pupils blown wide as you took the box from him with shaky hands, blinking back down at it before meeting his tender brown eyes. “Kento?” you said again, calmly, as if waiting for him to explain.

A beat of silence passed between you. Kento, suddenly, felt nervous around you for the first time in a long while.

“Truthfully, I was going to prepare a long-winded speech and buy you some flowers and take you out for dinner. But,” he cleared his throat, regaining his composure as he flipped the lid of the velvety box, revealing the sparkling ring he’d spend hours searching for. “I love you too much to waste any more time. Somehow, until tonight, I’d forgotten how short life can be. I just want to spend every moment I can as your husband.”

Your eyes became glossy as you stared down at the beautiful gem, lifting the ring out of the box to slide onto your finger. As expected, it fit you perfectly, shimmering in the pale light, the perfect complement to your skin. Kento gently took your hand, kissing the knuckle right below the jewelry.

“I’ll propose again to you properly,” he said, laughing quietly, though if it was because of your silence or the joy lodged within him, he couldn’t be certain. “Without all the blood and the—"

“Kento.” Your lips were on his before he could finish his sentence, harsh and passionate despite your injuries. Fingers curled around his chin, holding him into place, making him forget all the horrors that had occurred that evening. “Don’t be silly. I don’t need a grandiose display to know I want to be with you forever. I love you too much.”

Kento’s chest warmed, that bundle of affection within him bursting, making its way through every ounce of his being. There, you seemed to glow brighter, every day making you more beautiful than before, and he wondered how it could be possible that he could feel so much for one person.

He relaxed, unknowingly tense, and kissed you again on the forehead, his arms around your shoulder once more. “I should’ve done it sooner.”

You smiled and caressed the harsh bones of his cheeks, shaking your head. “It wouldn’t have changed anything.” You laughed, pulling him down by the tie, pressing a kiss between his brows to ease the wrinkle there. “Besides, now you’ve turned this awful night into something special. I don’t have to remember this day with a bitter taste in my mouth.”

Kento returned your smile, but it was still weak, even with all of the adoration he felt for you.

Though, when you beamed at the ring, your eyes soft, all of the previous despair gone, he knew that everything would be alright. Perhaps his timing had been less than ideal, but he would do it over and over again if only to ease away the misery from your face.

“So, then you will marry me?” he said again, wanting to hear the words from your lips, even though there was no doubt in his mind.

You rolled your eyes playfully, noticing his teasing smile and indulged him. “Yes, Kento.” You kissed his cheek, letting out a sharp exhale. “I’ll marry you. I would’ve always said yes, even back when we were silly, lovesick teenagers.” You sighed theatrically, adjusting his tie. “Who knows why. You had such a ridiculous haircut back then.”

Kento’s cheeks grew warm, splitting with the force of his smile, one that only seemed to appear with you at his side. Despite all of the horrible things that had happened in all of your lives, he was grateful that there were good moments too.

“Well, I still managed to win over the prettiest girl in the world, didn’t I?” he said, ghosting the words as he laced his fingers with your own, squeezing tight. “Now I get to call her my fiancée.”

You mumbled something less than kind under your breath, but Kento could feel the warmth on your cheeks, the flush the began from your neck.

He laughed, continuing his path back to the infirmary, where the students were likely waiting for you to return safe and sound. “Come on, I’m taking you to see Shoko. I wouldn’t want my future wife’s injuries to get any worse, would I?”

And though the both of you knew your injuries were minimal, your eyes brightened as the skin around them wrinkled, and Kento knew that whatever happened after this, he would live and die a happy man.

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dollfacefantasy · 5 months

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okayokay so i was hoping you could write something for leon x chubby!reader? i swear there is not enough of that genre out there- i was thinking the reader could be feeling insecure about their weight and leon comes home to them upset on the couch :(( after some comforting and fluffy stuff he CARRIES reader to the bedroom. (as a chubby girl i fold for anyone who can carry me lol) any leon would work for this hes so precious i just wanna keep him safe and sound in my pocket ☹️🫶 anyways i tried to keep this broad enough for you to use your imagination,, i love you writing!! <3

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!chubby!reader

summary: you're feeling down about yourself and leon just can't have that

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), face sitting, features reader's weight insecurities and people being critical of her weight

word count: 3.6k

a/n: thanks for the request! i hope it was what you were looking for :) reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

You didn’t expect today to be a good day, but now, in your position curled up and wallowing on the couch, you wish your intuition had been wrong. You lie on the plush cushions, face pressed against a pillow, limbs retracted and held close to your body. You weren’t crying, but it felt like every couple minutes your eyes began to sting with the threat of tears falling. You tried telling yourself to get a grip, to grow up and just move on. This shouldn’t still hurt you so much.

But, like always, beating yourself up didn’t do anything to improve your emotional state. You continue half-paying attention to the movie you put on. It was your comfort movie, one that you put on whenever you were down. Right now though, it wasn’t helping. Your partially unfocused eyes fixate on the screen and watch the lead actress move about. She looks good constantly, her outfits flatter her figure and flaunt her features. All you’re left thinking is why can’t I look like that?

The story playing out in front of you has a bitter taste this time and only serves to remind you of all the words you heard today. Whenever you were around your family for extended periods of time, the conversation moved in this direction. One moment you’d be laughing over a funny story or reminiscing about the past, and then the next, you were being recommended diets or invited to come to the gym in what was your relatives' version of subtlety. And no matter how many times it happened, it still hurt like it was the first.

Sometimes, Leon could spare you from it. When he came around, all the attention would be on him, a newcomer who they didn’t know so much about. But on days like today, when you had to endure their company on your own, it was bound to happen.

Leon didn’t even know he was protecting you with his mere presence. You’d never told him about the passive aggressive remarks or the whispers across the room. He had enough problems of his own to deal with. You didn’t want to pile on by weeping to him, sounding like some shitty after school special. So instead, you resigned yourself to this, sinking into your self-pity until you were distracted enough to forget about it until next time.

Not much more of your movie plays before you hear the familiar sound of Leon’s keys outside the door. He comes in, offering you a small smile as he takes his jacket off and kicks his boots aside. You straighten up a little bit but not too much. Normally, you’d try to conceal all of this from him, but you were just too worn down today.

He’d been out dealing with some last minute things for work before he got a little time off for a couple weeks. He walks behind the couch to the kitchen, taking a moment to ruffle your hair as he goes by.

“How’s your day going? You had to go to that thing with your family right? Everything went well?” he asks from the kitchen.

“Yeah. It was fine,” you respond simply, “How’s yours? Get everything done?”

“Mhm,” he hums. You couldn’t see him, but he was watching you. He could tell something was up. He takes a few swigs of his drink before heading to the couch and sitting down with you. Glancing over at you a few times, he observes the way you’re watching the movie. The slight frown on your lips, your uninterested eyes.

“Hey, c’mere,” he says gently, “I missed you today.”

With a gentle tug of your wrist, he guides you across the couch. You slide over on the seats so you’re leaned against his side looking up at him. Like always, you put your head on his chest, his fingers find their way to your head and stroke it lovingly. His other hand makes his way to your side, tenderly squeezing your waist, and in-turn, gripping the plump flesh there. You loved the touch, but right now, it further amplifies your self-consciousness. You’re painfully aware of the shape of your body at this moment.

“You feeling ok?” he asks softly.

You simply nod in response, but it’s like he can see the gears turning in your head, cranking out one bad thought after the next.

“C’mon, tell me what’s wrong, pretty girl,” he coos, dragging his thumb over your cheek.

He called you that a fair amount, but in your current state, it just grated on your already frayed nerve endings. You swallow around the lump forming in your throat. “Nothing’s wrong,” you reply.

Your answer doesn’t satisfy him though. He’s not convinced. Any other day you’d talk his ear off about how you couldn’t believe someone did this or how there was no way another said that. You’d be all over him too. It seemed like you could never get enough of kissing his face or nuzzling his neck. But today you were quiet. Quiet and stiff.

“I know it’s something, baby. You can tell me. There’s nothing in this world I’d judge you for,” he murmurs before kissing your forehead.

You really wanna tell him. It shouldn’t be hard. The rational part of your brain knew all he’d do was make you feel better. Give you some smooches, whisper compliments against your skin as his hands rub you all over. The other part of you though, the irrational, scared girl hidden inside, kept you anxious. She kept you believing that this was something you had to bear alone. Even the fact that you were insecure in the first place was embarrassing.

In a move that made you feel overwhelmingly pathetic, you just shake your head. You push your face against his chest and remain silent. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat helps a little to calm you, but you still can’t force the words out.

He only grows more concerned as you shy away. He thought you just didn’t feel good, maybe a little gloomy, maybe had a headache. But this was clearly something deeper. His arms tighten around you, rubbing your back.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” he asks, “Talk to me. Breaks my heart seeing you sad.”

You can’t even stop the hot tears from sliding down your cheeks at this point. Sucking in a harsh breath, you cling to him. He sees you’re crying even though you’re quiet. He whispers a few more reassurances, trying to coax you into sharing what’s the matter.

“It’s just… do you… are you… are you attracted to me?” you choke out. Even the way you phrase it makes you wanna curl up and die.

He’s stunned. Honestly, that’s the last question he expected to hear between your soft gasps.

“What? Of course I am,” he says without a second thought.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to lie to me. I can take it,” you sob, keeping your face shielded against the muscles beneath his shirt.

“Yes I’m sure. Hey, hey,” he says. His tone drips with worry as he guides your face to look up at him, “Where’s this coming from, baby? Did I say something that made you think that?”

“N-no,” you cry, tears wetting his shirt by this point, “I- it’s just… I don’t…”

“Take a deep breath. It’s ok,” he whispers, “I just wanna know why you would be worried about that, babe?”

You follow his advice and get yourself calm enough that you can speak, but again, you can’t actually get the syllables out without losing it.

“Cause just look at me,” you weep and gesture at your figure.

“I am looking at you,” he says, still not understanding the issue.

“You’re telling me this is what you want?” you cry. You say it almost like an accusation. Like the word liar is on the tip of your tongue.

“Yes? I can’t help if you don’t tell me what the problem is, and I’m really not seeing a problem,” he says. He’s such a sweetheart. Doesn’t get defensive with you, doesn’t tell you to cool it. He’s understanding as ever, and it just makes you feel worse about your blow up.

“You really like me even though I’m chubby?” you finally blurt out.

His eyes soften when the words reach his ears.

“Oh, baby…” he coos and pulls you onto his lap. It makes you uncomfortable at first, being on top of him, but he doesn’t even react to your weight on his thighs. “I love your body, every single part of it. You never need to worry about that.”

After that, everything comes spilling out. Every derogatory comment, every side eye, every single condescending smile. You ramble on about all of it through your tears. He nods along and shakes his head in disapproval when you tell him about your cousin’s birthday party when someone asked if you really needed a slice of cake. Or Christmas when your aunt cornered you to sell you on these diet shots her doctor prescribed her and how she could get you some easily.

“I never want you worrying about that kind of shit,” he tells you once it seems like your rant has come to a conclusion.

You sniffle and nod, burrowing into him further.

“I mean it. Cause for one, you're more than that. You’re sweet, so fucking sweet. You’re smart, funny. You’re you, and that’s what I love. I love talking to you, can’t get enough of your voice,” he murmurs as he kisses your cheeks and temple, “I notice all that before I’d ever notice whatever bullshit they tell you to feel bad about.”

“I know,” you whimper. Before you can say anything else, he keeps going.

“And you asked me if I’m attracted to you? That’s an easy answer, babe,” he says. He lifts you a little, shifting you on his lap so you’re straddling him. His hands squeeze your hips and rub up and down your sides. “You don’t understand how attracted to you I am. I cum harder jerking off while I think of you than I ever did fucking anyone else.”

You gaze down at him. Heat rushes through you at that admission. Your crying has come to a halt now as you hang onto each word of his.

“I mean, really honey? What wouldn’t I like?” he purrs, “You seriously believe I wouldn’t love how soft you are? All the curves I feel press up against me when you give me a hug or you wanna cuddle?”

His hands run along your skin with more teasing now.

“Your tummy? Fucking love it. Love how you get all squirmy when I rub and kiss it how you like,” he breathes as he tugs you forward so your front is against his. He kisses your lips softly. “Love feeling those round cheeks covered in tears and drool when you start losing it for me. And your thighs? I can’t get enough of ‘em clamped around my head when I’m eating your pussy. Fucking things squeeze me till I think I’m dreaming.”

Well, didn’t you feel stupid now. As Leon continues preaching about your body like he’s referencing a divine being, his hands roam your body, sending shivers up your spine. His fingers knead the flesh of your ass before coasting around to your tits and taking handfuls of them.

“I can only say so much, dolly. Think you should just let me show you how much I love it,” he breathes against the shell of your ear.

“Ok,” you agree. So simple it draws a small chuckle from his throat.

Without the slightest hesitation, he stands up, taking you with him. He hoists you up and doesn’t even let the smallest grunt slip from between his lips. You let out a tiny squeak which turns his chuckle to a full laugh.

“Leon…” you start with uncertainty.

“Nope. None of that,” he shushes you.

He boosts you up, getting you comfortable in his arms. Your legs lock around his waist just as he starts to move. Padding away from the couch, he takes you to the bedroom. He’s not straining himself at all. He glides through the doorway with you cradled against his abdomen like this was the most natural thing in the world. In all honesty, you weren’t too much for him in the slightest. All the training he did for his government job had prepared him to carry more weight than you.

He sets you down on the bed, crawling on top of you. His lips meet yours as he leans down and connects the two of you in a series of wet kisses. His hands glide beneath the fabric of your shirt, feeling your skin and the warmth of your body. After making out for a while more, he pulls back. He kneels above you, breathing heavily as he peels off his shirt. His toned abs and chest come into view. You’re still taking in the sight of him as he starts undoing his pants. To match him, you slowly begin to remove your own attire.

Soon enough, the both of you are nude. You expect him to get back on top of you and drill you into the bed until you’re seeing stars. But instead, he flops down next to you on the mattress, looking at you with a lopsided smile.

“You want me on top?” you ask as you begin to move yourself into position.

“I do. But not how you’re thinking.”

You pause, trying to figure out what he meant. It clicks in your mind suddenly as you're looking at his smug expression. He wanted you to sit on his face. He’d asked you to once or twice before, but you usually got out of it by playing up your neediness and acting like you needed his cock that very moment or you would explode.

There was no excuse that would spare you from this now though. You look him in the eyes and shake your head. His only response is to playfully nod at you and give your hips a little tug, urging you up his chest.

“Leon…” you whisper nervously. You wanted to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“Don’t give me that,” he teases. His tone transitions to a more genuine one as he says “Let me do this for you.”

You hesitate once more, but another light pull of your hips has you tentatively scooting forward on top of him. You brush by his chest and neck until you’re hovering above his head. He lets out a sigh just from feeling the heat of your thighs on either side of him. His elbows bend around your thighs, keeping you in position. He looks up at you and finds your nervous eyes to give you a comforting look.

“I’m gonna crush you,” you say as if to warn him.

“You better,” he responds.

And that’s all the talking he needs to do before pulling your hips down and mashing your cunt against his mouth. You gasp as you feel his tongue licking you up and down already. He groans when he tastes your slick. Diving in further, his mouth opens and closes as he pleasures you. He sucks on your clit and massages your entrance.

Your arm shoots out to hold onto the headboard for balance. Your hips involuntarily rock back and forth, smearing your arousal over his chin and lips. He keeps you in place for the most part, but he doesn’t restrain your movements. If anything, he devours you with increased fervor.

“That’s right, baby. Ride it,” he mumbles against your folds.

He tightens his grip a bit as he licks broad stripes over your pussy. His nose nudges your swollen bundle of nerves, ripping sharp whimpers from you. You roll your hips into the sensation. He nearly whines while feeling the fluid motion. He keeps lapping at you like it was the task he was born to perform.

Then you feel a thrum on your hip, his fingers tapping. You look down, at first worried he needed you to get off. But looking down, you find his hooded eyes gazing back at you and his index finger gesturing behind you.

You turn to look and see his cock, rock hard, flushed red, leaking a few drops of pre cum onto his abdomen.

“You see how attracted to you I am?” he asks.

You moan loud as he returns to eating you out like it’s his final action. Seeing him so worked up from merely pleasuring you drives you wild and has you gushing all over his chin. You whimper and grind down onto his mouth some more. Your head falls back, your chest heaving and bouncing as you accept the euphoric feeling below. You reach down and tug at his hair. He practically growls and continues to work you to the edge. He pays some special attention to your clit and fucks his tongue into you to finally get you there.

“Be a good girl and cum all over my face,” he commands between licks.

You release with a yelp. Your hips buck as your body spasms. Thighs tremble violently before tensing and pressing against his ears. He smirks against the velvety junction and keeps going through the high.

Once you start to come down, he releases you from his grip and gives you a firm smack on the ass. You slump over and crumple up next to him on the bed. His face is shimmering with your release. His fingers swipe across his chin, collecting your slick that had coated the skin there. He sticks the digits in his mouth and hums in satisfaction as he licks them clean.

“Could eat that pussy for hours, it tastes so fucking sweet,” he says as he starts moving towards you again.

Now, it’s actually time for him to crawl on top of you. He rocks his hips against you as he goes in for more kisses. His cock drags against the smooth skin of your thigh, the sticky tip sliding back and forth. His wet fingers hold your jaw and keep your lips puffed out for him to kiss.

While he kisses you more, he spreads your thighs and slots himself between your folds. He moves himself up and down through the wetness that had gathered.

“Pretty, pretty girl,” he murmurs against your lips, “My gorgeous love doll.”

Teasing himself and you by gliding his tip over you a few more times, he then moves it down against your hole and enters you fully. He moans, his breath hitching as he sinks into your warm, wet embrace.

“Good girl. Squeeze around me just like that. So fucking tight,” he grunts.

He takes a moment to just feel you. Feel your walls pulsing around him. Feel your heated, squishy form against his firm one. But then he starts to move. He slowly works his shaft back. A long drawn out “fuck” leaves his mouth before he whispers a crisp “good god” while pressing back in.

He begins to pump into you with an even pace. He strokes nice and deep, keeping his movements consistent for you. You flutter around him and squirm slightly as he prods at your most sensitive spots. He leans back to look down at the spot where the two of you connect.

He watches his cock slide in and out of you, disappearing into your cunt time and time again. He’s obsessed with how your slick coats his shaft, dripping down to the base. His thumb comes to swipe over your clit quickly and give you some extra sparks of euphoria. You whine and arch your back at the touch.

“I know you have the perfect pussy. Made all for me,” he breathes, grinning as you shiver from the pleasure he inflicts upon you, “So responsive and sensitive just for me.”

You whimper and nod. Your hands claw at his back, digging into the muscles across his shoulders. He keeps slamming into you. His eyes roll back as his release builds. He mutters more praises and collapses on top of you again. He grinds and rolls himself into you rhythmically while you start to cling to him. It becomes harder to keep still as pressure mounts inside you, begging to burst.

“Wanna see my beautiful girl cum for me,” he mumbles while pressing sloppy kisses to your neck.

You pant and nod again. It was impending. All you needed was a few more thrusts. He swivels his hips, angling himself and swiping across more spots that drive you wild. It’s just a few moments later when your body seizes again and you let go with a loud cry. He can’t hold it either as he starts to shoot ropes of cum in you. You’re both shuddering, faces tense with absolute pleasure. He’s softly whimpering in your ear while your nails make deeper crescents on his shoulder blades.

He continues bucking into you, fucking his cum deeper. It’s almost like he can’t stop. It just feels too good. He can’t pull himself away even though the high is over and he’s already started to tumble down. You’re so blissed out that you don’t even complain of overstimulation, just let him go the few extra moments till he’s satisfied.

Once he is sated, he doesn’t pull out. He just stops moving his hips. His arms tighten around you, and he nestles his face in the crook of your neck where he can take in your scent with every breath.

“See what you do to me, baby?” he pants, “Wouldn’t change a thing about you. My girl, think you’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut

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quirrrky · 7 months

Text

—•✦ 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙉𝙀𝙓𝙏 𝙏𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐

KUROO, your business partner and bestfriend, had one birthday wish and that's for you to attend a party as his fiancee, his fake fiancee

3k+ f!reader, friends to lovers, fake dating

ꨄ︎ happy birthday to the male lead of my life! wishing you'd finally show up for real now lmao

“So Kuroo, you’re turning thirty this weekend, right?”

“No, sir, just twenty-nine.” Kuroo gave a stiff and stony grin. Mr. Onitsuka, the CEO of the sportswear company he was trying to get as a sponsor, happened to be a rigid family man.

“Just twenty-nine...” There’s certainly some hint of disappointment with how it sounded from the older man.

Kuroo gulped and bit the inside of his cheeks. This deal was his most important thus far. We’re dealing with one of Japan’s prestigious brands. He couldn’t let this opportunity pass, especially that he just recently got promoted as the Sports Ambassador for the Japan Volleyball Association.

“Well, we can feature our players-”

“You mean athletes.” Mr. Onitsuka corrected.

Kuroo gulped and almost banged his head against the nearest wall. Of course, athletes! Not players.

Not a “player” like...him.

Who would’ve thought that his singleness was not a good credential for the strictly traditional man in front of him? Everyone who’d see the specimen of a man Kuroo was could tell that he had a high market value among the ladies, which screamed one thing. He must be a player!

“Yes, that’s right. Athletes...”

“Look, Kuroo, it’s clear that you had everything well-planned out.” Mr. Onitsuka closed the folder. “But I’m sure you can’t do all this by yourself...”

“I know someone who could cover this partnership.” Kuroo beamed, excitedly. His face lit up like he had the most brilliant plan out of his pocket. “We’ve been together and conquered a lot by now. I would even bet my life to guarantee you that she is the best!” He pronounced, loud and proud.

“I never heard about her before.” Mr. Onitsuka's expression changed into something a bit lighter. “So when did the both of you start together?”

At last! He’s passing the test. Kuroo thought.

“Oh, me and Y/N? We began working on a project about a year ago and we really hit it off so well. Our chemistry’s just...out of this world.”

Kuroo’s phone rang with the Star Wars’ Imperial March, a ringtone you personally assigned for yourself. Mr. Onitsuka saw your name and said, signaling for Kuroo to answer the phone, “Your girlfriend.”

In a slight panic, Kuroo almost juggled the phone in his hand. For a short while, he thought that he was now accepted by Mr. Onitsuka, however there seemed to be a misunderstanding. He wanted to clear it up, but he had to answer you first...

“H-Hello...” Kuroo gulped. “How’s my girl?” He saw a tinge of disappointment on Mr. Onitsuka's face, and he got agitated, mindlessly spouting things off. “How’s my beautiful...” Of course, he couldn’t say girlfriend. “Bride...” Shit! That's too sudden, so he added. “...to-be.” Bride to-be?

Oh crap. He ran his mouth without thinking.

You laughed. “Wait...Are you drunk?”

“Mhm hmmm...so drunk on you, only on you, babe.” Kuroo winked at Mr. Onitsuka, who was obviously enjoying the show he was putting on.

“What have you gotten yourself again, Tetsu?” You cracked up and followed, “Hey...listen, I already reserved the bar for your birthday party. It’s all good now.”

“You’re the best! Wait, love. Just hold on a sec, okay? I’m in the middle of a meeting, but I’ll be there in a heartbeat once this is done.”

You scrunched your face, laughing. “What’s wrong with you? Are you being hit on by an old lady again?”

Kuroo chuckled, genuinely. Oh...that smartmouth of yours...

“Let’s talk about it in a few, alright? See you the soonest, sweetheart. Bye bye, love you.” He hung up and sighed apologetically at Mr. Onitsuka. “Sorry about that. My woman needs me.”

“Then I suggest you go to her right away. You musn’t keep her waiting.” Mr. Onitsuka said, sounding more relieved to have found out that JVA Sports Ambassador Kuroo Tetsurou was a “committed” man. “If that’d be my wife, I’ll be having an earful by now.” The older man oddly broke his rigid exterior and laughed.

“I’ll take that advice to heart,” Kuroo affirmed.

“I’ll be sending the documents with my signature within the week.” Mr. Onitsuka extended his hand and Kuroo shook it. “It was nice meeting you, Kuroo. I’ll see you and your fiancee on your birthday party.”

Kuroo chuckled, nervously. “Can’t wait, sir.”

Now, he’s left with convincing you to be his future wife even just for a night.

⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚

As the new sports ambassador for JVA, Kuroo now carries the image of the sport, well, including its athletes. As much as it’s great to recognize that Volleyball athletes were good-looking, values such as commitment must be reflected as well. Kuroo knew that.

Though he admittedly had a past of dating around and exploring his options, it wasn’t the deal now. Kuroo wanted to commit but...he wanted to be slow and careful...

Opening up the door to the restaurant, he immediately spotted you browsing on your phone. He didn’t miss the look of the man seated beside you on one of the bar stools. He sighed. Another one of those bastards...

Approaching you, Kuroo wrapped an arm around your shoulders and planted a kiss on your forehead. “So, how’s the check-up? Is our little peanut okay? I’m sorry I missed it.” He said, making sure that the man heard.

You subtly rolled your eyes and answered back, “He just kicked inside me now like he wanted to kick you instead.”

Kuroo acted animatedly amused. “Sounds like his mother. That’s too early.” Taking the other seat beside you, he swiveled your chair so you’re facing him.

“Last week you put a ring on me and now it’s a baby.” You snickered. “What’s next, Tetsu? Retirement plan?”

“Come on. I’m just being the best bestfriend there is. Plus, you have saved my ass a million of times too.”

Indeed, you didn’t know when it started but you and Kuroo played as each other’s fake partner whenever you’re both being hit on by strangers you didn’t like.

“Yeah, remind me to pose as your lovesick wife next time.” You joked and Kuroo rubbed his chin.

“Maybe at my birthday party?” He suggested.

You took a sip of your juice. “Yeah, sure.”

“No, seriously, though.” He took your hand and held it firmly. “Mr. Onitsuka...”

“Oh, Family Guy...”

“Exactly! I...” He’s now starting to take out his greatest weapon, his sad boy pout and unfortunate doe eyes.

Oh. “How did you mess up this time?”

His hold on your hand tightened. “I might’ve made it seem like we’re getting married.”

That explained the cheesy lovey-dovey petnames a while ago.

You were speechless. Kuroo’s not the one to lie. He’s always the straightforward guy, so... “How the hell did that...”

“I don’t know. Man, he’s been grilling me with my life plan, my age and all, that I had a slip-up.”

Well, you’ve done this countless times before, but his birthday party was a different thing. His friends and some colleagues will be there. You looked at your joined hands and then back at his troubled expression.

“Y/N, just for my birthday, please...” Kuroo pleaded, “Be my lovesick wife even just for that day.”

⋆ ˚ ꩜ ｡ ⋆୨୧˚

Kuroo leaned on his car as he marveled at you so breathtakingly beautiful in a red dress. Playfully, he whistled. “It might be hard for me to think this is all pretend when you’re doing some serious damage on me with that dress.”

Equally, you admired how handsome he was in that black sweater, and got lost at the sight of him that you almost trip on your wat to his side. Almost.

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you in check.” Lightheartedly, you set an alarm in your smartwatch. “You got me until midnight, love.”

The two of you laughed.

Today’s the big day. Tetsu’s birthday. And yes, the birthday part did get you to agree to his "proposal".

In no time, you reached the little bar you rented. It was cozy and had a little dancefloor and disco lights that could make the activities later on at night extra special.

You assisted in arranging a party for him, inviting his close friends and some colleagues. No lies, you’re a little nervous. This was different from the strangers you’d been fooling.

This is it...

Kuroo pulled you closer to him, grabbing you by the waist. “You got this, sweetheart.” He brought your hand to his lips. You gave him a prim smile and he opened the door for you.

You were welcomed by familiar faces which put you at ease, while he had a hand at the small of your back. All the worries you had earlier dissipated. Having Kuroo right next to you like this made you feel more confident.

Though everyone had their eyes on the two of you, everything about this situation felt natural. The electricity that surrounded you...It was so strong. The chemistry you had the first time you met was glowing in front of everyone right now. You could tell that they looked at you and Kuroo like you’re made for each other.

“Here comes the future Mr. and Mrs. Kuroo,” Kenma welcomed, mischievously knowing fully well what the both of you were up to.

Lev greeted, “Happy Birthday and Congratulations!”

“What? I thought you two are already married!” Bokuto remarked, which shocked the both of you. “I mean... ever since you two got along, Kuroo talked about nothing but you. I even got a little sad because I thought I wasn’t invited.”

Kuroo was just pretending not to be affected by all this, but he’s definitely dying on the inside as Bokuto ratted him out. Slowly, you tilted your head to sneak a glance at your “fiance”.

“W-What?” he asked.

You giggled and teased, “I didn’t know I’ve been on your mind a lot.”

Kuroo just simply scoffed. This was totally not how he planned things to work out.

Mr. and Mrs. Onitsuka finally arrived at the scene. Kuroo squeezed your hand as if you were going to face the biggest challenge of your life.

“Kuroo,” The old man called as he patted Kuroo’s shoulder, “Happy Birthday, boy!”

This was shocking. Mr. Onitsuka went from a scary strict dad to a friendly goofy one. It must be the effect of being with you.

“Thank you, sir. Ma’am,” Kuroo acknowledged Mrs. Onitsuka’s presence, taking her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles.

“Hmm...You sure know your way with the ladies.” The older woman complimented.

“Gives me headache every now and then,” you said, playfully, which made the old couple laugh.

“You must be Y/N,” Mr. Onitsuka shook your hand. “Now, I know why you got this boy to settle down.” He patted Kuroo’s chest twice. “You’re such a lucky man to have someone like Y/N right here beside you.”

“See, even you could tell how bad she got me.” Kuroo glanced at you with an unexplainable softness in his gaze. “So damn bad.”

The way he looked at you, his smile, his eyes, almost stopped your heartbeat. You felt so little...small? Cute? Weak in the knees? Excuse me. You’re probably smiling like a preschooler having a crush right now, but this felt like a fairytale. Someone must stop you.

“You both looked so good together I wonder how you fell in love with each other.” Mrs. Onitsuka mused.

Kuroo confidently replied, “It was love at first sight...”

You choked up a laughter at his statement. Love at first sight? Crazy....

He raised a brow at you with a vexed and hurt expression on his face.

“Hey, now! It sounds like a Hallmark movie. You can’t blame me,” you reasoned out.

“But it was the truth!”

Kuroo took a long and deep inhale. His eyes refused to look back at you as he explained, “When we met for the first time to finalize our partnership for the Volleyball video game project, I really thought you’re beautiful, and as lucky as I am, you’re also smart, funny and someone whom I found comfortable to be myself with.”

Smiling, you recalled that moment. It wasn’t only him who felt that way that day. “Yeah...that’s...” ...what you felt too. You almost forgot this was all just a pact.

The two couples found your bickering very amusing, which roused their curiosity even more. “Well...let’s go to the proposal. How did our lady’s man right here propose?”

“I first asked her to marry me during the successful launch of our first project.” Kuroo shared to spark a memory in you, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck.

“What?”

“You really can’t remember?” He complained.

You explained, “I thought you’re just talking about our next projects to come.”

He gave you a stare of disbelief like you’re the stupidest, silliest girl alive.

You paused for a moment, trying to grasp what happened in the past when Mr. Onitsuka cut your musing with a laugh.

“Those were the days...” Mrs. Onitsuka admiringly commented.

Mr. Onitsuka sighed. “I guess we’ll leave you two alone then.”

You and Kuroo bowed your heads as gesture, watching the older couple take their seats.

A sigh of relief escaped the both of you and you looked at each other chuckling.

“Let’s go?” Kuroo invited, taking your hand to pull you close to him until he had an arm around your waist.

You nodded your head, giggling. For the rest of the night, you did nothing but that. He was greeted from time to time, but he’d always return his attention to you. He pulled your chair close to him and playfully fed you with spoonfuls that had your mouth full—ridiculously full that you were swatting his arm almost non-stop.

You didn’t drink anything alcoholic, but it felt like you were tipsy. You didn’t know where this endless happiness was coming from. It’s that free bubbly feeling that just fizzled out inside you. You were always playful and childlike around Kuroo, but there’s something in this moment that was just different. It was like you were set free–free to express whatever it was you wanted to for a long time.

Kuroo rubbed your belly, “Looks like our little peanut is getting bigger now.”

You both laughed at his teasing. “It’s ‘cause you’re feeding me a lot, dummy!”

“What can I say? I’m just simply being a good provider. Making sure that the love of my life is well-fed and happy.” He boasted and you rolled your eyes.

Kuroo was so close to you, the warmth of his body surrounding you in full as he had you caged all to himself. Your body moved on its own and you laced your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. All of a sudden, you didn’t want to let go.

You didn’t know why, but your heart was about to burst at any moment now. He’s right. You’re... “Happy...” You said with a muted voice. “Birthday, Tetsu.”

Kuroo embraced you back and even tighter, closing his eyes firmly while he was holding you so close like you’re something that could melt away in his arms at any moment. “I’m happy. I’m very very happy right now, Y/N.”

He parted a bit, cupping your face with both hands. You searched for his eyes, and he probed yours. Your gaze shifted to his lips while his did the same thing, lingering a little on yours. You swallowed.

What is this?

Kuroo bit his lip. His eyelids were getting heavy as he was reaching forward. You had your lips parting a bit, just enough so you’re breathing from the space between.

What’s happening? What’re you anticipating?

Slowly, your noses touched.

Just a little bit more...

But the speaker close to you started blaring, shocking you both from your little moment and made you laugh instead.

Kuroo stood up and extended a hand, “Care for a dance?”

You accepted, taking the dance floor with him. He had his hands on the sides of your waist as you both swayed to the music. Your eyes were not leaving each other’s as you both got lost in the moment, cheeks hurting from the smile that won’t just fade away.

“Screaming, I testify that we'll survive the test of time they can't deny our love.” The lyrics blazed all over and you let yourselves loose, singing the song together. “They can’t divide us. We’ll survive the test of time. I swear that I’ll be right hereeee!”

You both burst out laughing at each other with how your voices cracked, failing to hit the high note.

“I don’t know why it feels like I’m drunk right now,” Kuroo pondered fondly.

“Drunk on me?” You teased, recalling what he said on the phone last time.

“Most likely,” he smirked and returned, “You know I didn’t have any alcohol.”

You laughed. “Yes, because that mouth of yours may run some BS again.”

“Oh...” He scoffed and rebutted, “You speak as if my mouth is only good at talking.”

Your quirked a brow up. “What else would it ever be good at?”

You’re really getting him so bad like this, huh.

The look in his eyes turned dark and he bit his lip. He stopped dancing, pulled you closer and whispered, “A lot of things.”

His gaze slickly traveled down your lips thirstily taking in how he wanted them so bad. He grazed back to pin your eyes with a serious stare that showed how he’s already at his limit. You gulped, air got stuck in your chest. You were lost at the sight of his handsome face being accentuated by the colorful lights that you failed to ready yourself when he placed a hand behind your head and brought your lips together. Your eyes automatically closed, arms snaked around his body as he had a hand at the small of your back. Your lips danced, gobbling each other passionately, intensely. You’re taking one another’s breath.

At that moment, only the two of you existed, intoxicated by each other’s taste and fully consumed by the fire inside you that finally came blazing after a long time being kept hidden.

Miya Atsumu whistled. “Man, this got me frustrated.”

“Ugh, get a room.” Oikawa chided, bitterly.

“Just admit you’re jealous nobody wants to kiss you that way,” Iwaizumi rebutted while Kenma had his phone up, streaming the entire show.

Your smart watch started alarming, cutting off your kiss. You glanced. It’s already 12 o’clock, which brought you back to reality. This...This was all just an agreement. An odd stabbing pain hit your chest. You looked around and the Onitsukas were nowhere to be found. They must’ve gotten home already. Your heart was knocking loudly in your ear, and you just looked at Kuroo painfully confused.

All these emotions...

“Excuse me,” you said, and briskly walked outside the hall.

Your hands were cold and trembling as you placed them over your lips. It’s done now. You couldn’t run away from it anymore. For so long, you’d been telling yourself it was all just friendship even if you knew that all this time, the person you wanted to be next to you was just him.

With this heavy feeling in your heart, you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle denying anymore. You love Tetsurou more than just a friend.

“Y/N!” You heard him called out, and you shut your eyes firm.

You’d just end up broken if you’d keep on pretending.

Kuroo held your elbow, and you were swept away when he spun you around so you were facing him. He had you in his arms, with his hands clasped at the small of your back.

“Tetsu...” You placed a hand on his chest, putting up a boundary. “Mr. and Mrs. Onitsuka went home already.”

“And so?” He answered, noting that you’re not pushing him away.

“I-It’s already past 12,” you reasoned out with a shaky voice.

He bumped his head into yours. “We can have it extended, you know?” His tone was almost begging.

You chewed on your bottom lip. “What do you mean?” Your heart stammered so hard against your ribcage.

“The love at first sight, the proposal...they’re all real for me, Y/N.” His voice was staggering that you could feel how nervous and scared he was. Scared of losing you and letting this moment slip away. He might not get another chance. “I slipped up that you’re my bride-to-be because that’s what I’ve been wanting to happen all this time.” He ran the tips of his fingers across your cheek. “I love you, Y/N and should’ve shown you how much a lot earlier”

“Oh, Tetsu...” you smiled at the brink of tears. “You’re such an idiot!” You lightly smacked his shoulder and scolded, “I thought I’m gonna be single forever because of you, dummy!”

You both laughed, finally feeling the freedom of having things all let out in the open.

Leaning close to your face, he teased you with his lips lightly grazing against yours as he spoke. “You’re still not answering me...” he muttered under his breath. “It’s past midnight now. Are we extending?”

You smiled against his lips and asked, “For how long?”

Kuroo grinned, pressing your noses together. “Indefinitely.”

And you answered him with a kiss, knowing that you both won’t have anyone standing next to you aside from each other, indefinitely.

𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 w/ my fellow kuroo babes @mayarii-darling @sookisaurus @tetzoro @shidouryusm @kuroosexuall @jotatetsuken @boosyboo9206 💋

#hubby birthday kuroo ❤️🖤#kuroo x reader #kuroo fic #haikyuu x reader #kuroo scenarios #kuroo fluff #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo x you #kuroo x y/n #kuroo imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff

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carlgrimesenthusiast · 11 months

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saviour! reader x carl where he’s got a huge crush on her and thinks she’s soooo hot so when the two find themselves alone, and she makes a suggestive comment towards him, he begs her to have sex with him

we’re supposed to hate each other…

warnings: swearing, smut.

a/n: i decided to make this into an actual fic instead of just short couple of paragraphs. plus i haven’t written a fic in a long time! i also wrote in capitalisation and didn’t make the writing smaller, thought i would try it out.

also, i made reader negans daughter so it would fit to the title, but everything else is the same!

You heard someone knocking on the door from the other side of the door. “Come in.” You yelled, rolling your eyes. Someone always had to interrupt whilst you were reading a book.

“Alright, pumpkin. Get up, we’re going to Alexandria.” Your father said, after opening the door. You love going to Alexandria, mostly because of a special someone always being there whilst your father went off taking supplies from everyone. You and Carl were supposed to hate each other, at least that’s what you thought.

Whenever you saw Carl, you get butterflies in your stomach but your ignored them. Even if you were supposedly dating, would it really work out? Your fathers hate each other and even thought hate is a strong word, they really do hate each other. You wouldn’t blame Rick, Carls dad, you knew what kind of person your dad was but that didn’t change the fact that you still love him.

“Fine.” You abruptly sat up, removing the blankets off of you and leaving the marked up book onto the bed side table. “When are we leaving?” You questioned, taking your jacket and putting it on.

“Now, all the trucks are outside all ready.” Your father said, waiting for you to hurry up.

“Well, I’m ready so let’s go.” Negan nodded before turning around, opening the door wider and letting you leave first before closing the door and locking it.

You made your way outside, walking past all the workers and taking quick glances at them. You felt bad for them but weren’t they being kept safe? It shouldn’t be that bad, it’s way better then being left outside with all those walkers lurking around. If I were them, I’d prefer to be kept inside, fed and being able to sleep all safely, well mostly safe…

You boarded the car with you dad, not being bothered to buckle your seatbelt because who else would be driving on the road apart from the Saviours? You and Negan made small talk, a large quantity of it being what we would take when we get there and if your dad was going to stir up even more hatred.

You arrived outside the gate of Alexandria, you waited for the Alexandrians to open the gate before all the vehicles made their way inside.

You jumped out the car happily, you loved being here. You honestly wish you were here instead of the Sanctuary. The houses and the trees and the bright sun, everything about it here was beautiful. You were brought out of your thoughts when a certain someone made their way towards you.

“Hey, Y/n, haven’t seen you in ages.” Carl said, hands in his pockets whilst he looked down at you with his eyes squinted from the sun.

“I saw you like last week…” You had an obvious look on his face, did he miss me or something? You smiled at the thought of Carl missing you.

“What you smiling about?” Carl questioned, your smile immediately dropped.

“Nothing.” You folded your arms across your chest, “now, show me something that I might be interested in.” Last week when you came to Alexandria, you met up with Carl again and you told him that next time you’re here, he should show you all the things he found for you that you could be interested in having.

“Alright, I’ll lead the way. It’s in my bedroom, by the way.” Carl nodded before leading the way, you were both stopped by someones voice.

“Darling, where you going?” Your fathers voice boomed out, you turned around to see your dad standing there with the Saviours carrying supplies back to the trucks.

“I’m going with Carl, he’s offering me things he thinks I might like.” You shouted, loud enough for Negan to hear since he was quite far.

“Alright, be back in 10 minutes!” He shouted back, you nodded and held your thumb up to show that you will be back.

“I’ve got some things that you will definitely like to have, hopefully.” Carl whispered the last part to himself, thinking that you couldn’t hear him, but you did.

Carl opened the door to his house and let you enter, you were shocked. Your face didn’t display it but your mind was thinking otherwise. The furniture, the carpet, the lights, the living room. Everything about it is so homely, exactly like it was before the world went to shit.

“Everything’s in my room, come on.” Carl shut the door behind him and led the way upstairs. He opened the door to his bedroom, there was one poster in his room and a ton of shit on his bed. That’s what he was offering, a ton of comics that you wondered where he found them, video games, books, a paint set…in prestige condition as well. You seriously needed to know where Carl found this stuff.

“I want the comics.” You said before making your way to the comics, picking it up from his bed and flicking through it.

“That’s my second favourite.” Carl pointed out, closing the door behind him and walking to stand beside you.

“Oh, well, then I’m taking it.” You smiled, “it’s so hot in here.” You fanned your face before taking your jacket off and placing it on the chair that was in Carls bedroom.

“Be careful, there’s some weird scenes in that one. That’s why it’s my favourite.” Carl joked, you chuckled slightly.

“So what, like sexual stuff?” You asked, he nodded. “Let’s recreate them.” You joked as well. Carl stayed quiet, not knowing how to react. His mind went to other places…he couldn’t help but think about you and him recreating those scenes… “Carl?” You nudged him, bringing him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?” He breathed out, a very obvious rose pink blush spread across his face. “Do you really want to recreate those?” Carl blushed.

“Do you?” You looked at him, he breathed in before nodding.

“I mean, we only have like 5 minutes left…maybe another time.” You glanced down at your watch.

“No!” Carl startled you, your eyes widening at the sudden burst. “I mean, 5 minutes is enough.”

“Are you sure? What if my dad comes barging in the room and sees us?” You feared.

“He won’t, we can be quick.” You looked at Carl unsure, you felt your panties starting to stick to you. “Unless you totally want to, I’m not forcing you. In fact, let’s just forget about what I said. You wanted the comics, here you can have them.” Carl reassured you, he didn’t want to force you to do anything you didn’t like.

You found it cute how he was talking so fast, almost like he was nervous. The thought of Carl missing you and being nervous about you made you wet.

“Alright, let’s go back outside. I bet your dads waitin-“ You cut Carl off by grabbing his face and smashing his lips against yours. He held his hands over yours, you let go off his lips with a deep breath.

“You said we’ll be quick, right!?” You were already removing your shirt, Carl kissed you again before taking taking his own shirt off revealing his body to you. You gasped, running your hands along his body, feeling his light muscles coming out.

You laid Carl down onto the bed, sitting on his lap. He unclasped your bra from behind for you and took id off. He stared at your boob, mouth agape. “Can I?” He looked up at you, needy.

“Of course.” That’s all you needed to hear before his lips wrapped around your nipples. “Fuck.” You breathed under your breathe, tugging onto Carls hair.

Carl let go with a ‘pop’, you stood back up removing your jeans along with your panties whilst Carl did the same, removing his boxers. You straddled Carl again, wrapping your arms around his neck. You pulled him in, your lips made its way to his neck.

“Please, please.” Carl begged, you probably only had about 2 minutes left so you had to be quick.

Carl slowly felt your pussy, “Shit.” he was harder then ever now, he needed you wrapped around him so badly. He slowly aligned himself with your seeping hole. He slowly thrusted into you, letting you get used to the feeling.

“Carl.” You moaned, his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you closer and kissing your neck. You whimpered, feeling Carl sucking on your neck.

“Fuck, next time I see you, I’m gonna take it nice and slow with you. Treat you real nicely.” He groaned, you rolled your hips in sync with Carls thrust.

You felt yourself coming close, “Shit baby, you feel so good.” Carl praised, his praises brought you closer. You bit your lip to suppress your moans.

“Fuck.” You held onto Carl so tightly as you came, Carl kept going to help you through your orgasm. You felt Carl release inside of you.

After you were out of the haze, you began to get redress. You retouched yourself, fixing your hair making sure it looked like it did before, fixing your clothing and soothing your hand over it to fix the creases. “I’m sorry this wasn’t quite the best ever, but I promise you when you come back I will treat you even better.” Carl held your hands within his, kissing each knuckle.

“This was the best carl.” You reassured him, “i’ll see you later.” You giggled, you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before you and Carl made your way outside.

“There you are kid, I was getting worried.” Your dad said, folding his arms and a relieved look on his face.

“Sorry.” You giggled, you got into the car with your dad. Before leaving, you waved at Carl smiling so much.

“Did Carl not have anything good?” Negan asked.

“Nope” You popped the ‘p’.

“Why’re you smiling so much? Never seen you smile this much before.”

“No reason.” You looked back outside the window, he didn’t need to know the reason why you were.

a/n: i got lazy at the end :(( i’m sorry about that, i hope you enjoyed nonetheless! this is the longest fic i have ever written, my hands are very tired… also i just realised the title doesn’t really go with the plot but oh well… hope u enjoyed though!!!

thank you anon for the request!!!

(not proofread)

#carl grimes #carl grimes x reader #the walking dead #smut #carl grimes x you #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes smut #carl grimes angst #carl x you #carl grimes fic #negan smith #twd carl #carl twd #twd #twd fluff #carl grimes twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes fanfic #carl grimes x y/n

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jinwoosungs · 3 months

Text

{ 132 }

crush, crush, crush.

megumi fushiguro x fem.reader

no curses | college au.

{ and i'm like, yeah | everything you heard is true | everybody knows i'm hung up on you. }

much like half of the female population of students that attended this university, you had a crush on megumi fushiguro.

something about him was just so appealing to you (and many others). from his deep, emerald green eyes to the way his spiked hair fell across his pale face.

his full lips were often seen set in a permanent scowl, indicating his absolute disdain for something-

and his deep voice was painted in nonchalant tones, as if nothing in the world could ever bother him-

but it was enough to fuel your desire to get closer to him.

being somewhat of a smart cookie, you ended up sharing quite a few classes with the enigmatic megumi. from ethics to advanced calculus, you were honestly just happy enough to be in his presence.

because you knew that the chances of megumi returning your feelings were slim to none, that didn't stop you from doing something a little silly (and quite stupid, really) to get closer to him.

in your advanced calculus class, you purposely failed a sequence of pop quizzes, each and every one of them serving to be like a test drive before the real deal: the first exam worth nearly 20% of your final grade.

your professor, feeling exasperated on your depressingly low averages, finally decided to enlist the help of the student who consistently scored a 100% on every assignment and pop quiz-

megumi.

she calls you to the front of her desk while stopping megumi from leaving the classroom. megumi's eyes were furrowed in confusion, and you did your best to put on a sad face, jutting your lips out in a disappointed pout and all.

"fushiguro, you're one of the best students in my class- actually, you're the only one who has ever had consistently high scores on my homework and quizzes."

your professor gestures over to you, all while saying your name with a disappointed sigh. "she needs your help. her scores have been embarrassingly low, and i'm afraid if this continues, she will not have a chance to pass this class and may need a retake. so please, when it's still early in the semester, can you help her?"

you take this chance to meet with megumi's gaze, seeing them flash with an unknown emotion for a brief moment before returning back to his blank, emotionless gaze. he places a hand within the pocket of his jeans, looking away from you to see each one of your written quizzes spread out against your professor's desk.

you had to fight back the heat against your cheek when his bored, emerald gaze looked at the 0's written in a deep red ink, the anger and disappointment your teacher felt for you seeming to create a harsh dent, with each bold x seen scattered across the problems on the papers, nearly ripping through each sheet.

"so, as you can see, i don't wish for this student to be a hopeless case. if things go well, the highest grade she can make is a 70. but... i'll allow it if you can help her."

without another word needing to be spoken, megumi gives the professor a stiff nod before collecting your quizzes together in a single, neat stack. he meets with your gaze and says a simple "follow me." before walking out of the classroom.

and despite how you could feel your heart pounding from within your chest, you kept your cool and followed megumi from close behind. you continue to walk in silence for several seconds when he turns around to face you, seeing you standing behind him while letting out a sound of annoyance.

"don't walk behind me like i'm better than you." he gently grabs a hold of your wrist so that you were now walking right next to him. "i hate that shit. we're in the same year, so act like it."

the way your heart suddenly jumped into your throat was enough to make you feel dizzy, and the fact that megumi didn't show any hints of letting you go made it all the more overwhelming for you.

with his hand loosely gripping at your wrist, he leads you to your university's library, the silence was once deafening as you thought that your ears were close to ringing-

but the moment several students laid eyes on megumi holding your hand, you felt all eyes turn on you. their studying all but forgotten as whispers and giggles were heard throughout. seemingly unbothered by the sudden change, he keeps holding on to your wrist before going towards one of the hallways that held several study rooms. the first empty room he finds, he enters it while shutting the door.

in the middle of the room was a large, square table with four seats surrounding it. megumi takes an extra seat and settles it on the same side as him, silently gesturing at you to sit to his left. you nod and heed his words, feeling somewhat shy as you took out a fresh notebook along with some pencils and pens from your backpack.

megumi settles himself beside you and takes out his notebook. as you trail your eyes over those meticulous pages, you saw just how much care and detail he put within them, the black ink seeming to bleed through each page as evidence of his dedication.

he takes one of your quizzes and points to each concept you missed within his notes, and you found yourself following along quite well. you end up completely correcting your errors within 20 minutes, and was simply basking in megumi's presence when a deep chuckle was heard.

"heh, i knew you were suspicious..." megumi had placed his lips against the shell of your ear, tone dripping with an uncharacteristic amusement. the feeling of his hot breath against your ear was enough to make you shiver in response, your wary gaze meeting with his.

"ah... i... don't know what you mean?"

he gives you a scoff, telling you that he didn't believe your bluff for a single minute while shutting his notebook. "you know, professor irie has told me to tutor some of her other students in different classes several times. and i can't tell you how we often spent two hours working on a single problem."

"yet you... you corrected each and every one of your mistakes, redoing all 10 problems and giving me the correct answer within a mere 20 minutes."

you were frozen, eyes going wide, as if you were a deer caught in headlights. a smirk was seen gracing megumi's handsome features when you could feel his large hand against your back, pushing you forward so that you could see your past quizzes. he spreads out each and every one of the pages that averaged a 0, taking his signature black pen as he filled them all in with 100's.

"it takes a different type of genius to purposely choose wrong answers, so tell me... why?"

you begin to blush profusely, unable to meet his gaze as you felt your heart pounding faster with anxiety, nearly coming out of your ribcage. you lost all nerve, unable to even look at him when you shakily manage to tell him.

"i-i think you know why."

"i do, but i'd much rather hear it from you."

you could feel his gentle hands rubbing against your cheek, making you sigh as you relented.

"i-i did it so that i could be closer to you...because i know that you wouldn't notice me otherwise."

"and who says i didn't notice you?"

you gasp upon feeling megumi take a hold of your chin, forcing you to face him as his eyes were shining with a look akin to... adoration for you. he allows the pad of his thumb to trace at your bottom lip before admitting to you, "i've seen the truth of your studious nature and your hard work. and those glances you've been sneaking at me when you thought i wasn't looking... so how could i possibly ignore your presence so easily?"

you watch when he slowly narrows his gaze, suddenly inching himself closer to you as you could taste his breath against your lips, giving you little choice but to cave in to your feelings for him as you met with him halfway.

and as his lips perfectly slot themselves against yours in a perfect kiss, you found yourself sighing, thinking to yourself that failing a few quizzes was completely worth it in the end.

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x you #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro imagine #.stories

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luvring · 1 month

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A LITTLE WHILE LONGER

gn!reader | atsumu parent au, 700 words of silly fluff(?) Unless u think about growing up too much.

“’tsumu? what’s wrong? why’re you crying?” you put your keys in your pocket, eyes focused on atsumu who’s leaning his head back on the couch, blinking away tears and wiping his cheeks.

he huffs, turning away as if you wouldn’t be able to hear him sniffling. “’m not cryin’!”

“makoto,” you call your daughter who’s sitting with her back to you. “what happened—oh my god, why’re you both crying?”

she looks over her shoulder, and you catch her phone and crumpled tissues in her hands. they look at you with the same pout and loud denial—“we’re not crying!”

the echo is an unconventional comfort—‘we’ enough to tell you that nobody’s said or done any real damage. makoto brings her legs up to sit cross-legged in her chair, grabbing the pillow from behind her to her lap, and you look at your husband. “atsumu.”

his still red eyes snap toward you and his jaw drops, voice filled with hoarse betrayal, “what?! why’re ya lookin’ at me? ‘t’s her fault!”

your daughter gasps and throws her pillow at his chest. “dad!”

atsumu catches it with ease. “makoto!”

“guys.”

stopped before one of them can pick up another pillow, the pair sit back in their seats, this time atsumu holding the pillow up to his chin. makoto sniffles as she unlocks her phone. “here.”

when you walk over and she passes it to you, it’s set to the front camera with some sort of filter waiting to start. you furrow your brows and look to her for explanation.

“it’s an ageing filter—dad started crying when he saw what i’d look like when i get old.”

she sniffles once more, and something in your chest softens. you look toward atsumu who, as if he could feel your gaze, looks away from the corner of the room back to you. his cheeks match his eyes, and he tries to stop what he knows is going to happen, “don’t you—”

“awww.”

“babe,” the whine is immediate as he slouches into the couch.

you only snicker as you hand makoto her phone back, and make your way to him with a smile and arms wide open. despite everything, he straightens, leans toward you and your touch. his head rests against your stomach as you run your fingers through his hair. (you think makoto says “ew” behind you.)

“’tsumu, you big softie,” you tease.

he scoffs weakly as he wraps his arms around your waist. “she’s crying too!”

“am not.”

atsumu peaks his head from around you. “are too, y’liar.”

“i’ve never cried in my life,” makoto denies, a rasp in her words.

the blond in your arms scoffs again. “tell that t’me when you were 7 and crying ’cause y’stepped on a ladybug by accident.”

makoto gasps. “her name was milly, you monster.”

you snort, turning to look at your daughter. “sorry to milly, now stop fighting. family hug time, c’mere.”

and even as they stick their tongues out at each other, they both stand so you can wrap your arms around them, and atsumu quietly plants a kiss to both of your heads. you mumble with a smile, “love you guys.”

“love you too.”

“love you. and you are never growing up.”

“biologically impossible.”

“don’t care, you’re eight now.”

“what—eight?!”

the hug breaks, and you sigh dramatically, atsumu pulling makoto into a headlock you know she could get out of in seconds, even while she laughs.

“eight.”

“why can’t i stay seventeen?”

“numbers don’t go that high for ya anymore.”

“then what’re you?”

“a young and handsome twenty-four year old.”

“ya wish, old man!”

walking away, you call out, “i’m gonna get dinner started, don’t break anything!”

makoto’s “thank you!” is followed by atsumu’s “we won’t!”, and the bittersweet ache in your bones at the thought of your family getting older is soothed by the sound of laughter from the living room, a reminder it'll be you all together, for at least a while longer.

girl dad atsumu who loves and spoils his daughter to bits is so real but also It's Atsumu.. The Miyas... i thought it'd be nice 2 see her picking up more of his personality + them being silly 🙂‍↕️ (these kinds of relationships r so endearing 2 me 😭🩷) everypony knows they love each other soo much even while they're 'fighting' and accusing the other of cheating at mario kart or whatever LOL.

was gonna make tsumu point out makoto crying at the thought of Him getting old btw but then i would've taken longer to Pack This Up and also had to deal with ME thinking about MY parents so here we are 🫡

@pelicanpizza @godoffuckedupcats @causenessus @priv_rose @ur-local-simp @respitable haii my tag list i forgot i had u for a while there. and u guys too @reverie-starlight @dira333 haii friends i hope u are all doing awesome! 🫵🩷

#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #haikyuu fluff #atsumu x gn!reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #someone tell me if theres typos in this #wontchrck. byebye

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ryeriy · 1 month

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slipping through my fingers | lewis hamilton

-> summary: Lewis is watching is daughter slip away through his fingers

-> pairings: dad!lewis hamilton x mom!reader

-> a/n: this was a really cute idea in my head but I hope it turns out okay 😭

mamma mia series

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15 years ago, January 29th

It was just a few hours ago that little Savanna was born into this world. She had already been adored by both of her parents that loved her so much in these first few hours.

"She's quite cute isn't she?" Lewis said while looking down at the baby girl in his arms. Savanna was swaddled in blankets and being held by her father. Y/n looked over at Lewis as he held their newborn daughter. Even though y/n was very tired, she couldn't help but to slightly smile.

"Probably gets that from me." Y/n let out a soft laugh. Lewis laughed too.

"I couldn't agree more with that one," Lewis smiled at the baby in his arms that's his.

He couldn't believe that something this perfect and tiny was his. He has a child now and if felt so unreal to him still. It felt like to him it was only yesterday she was showing him the two pink lines on the pregnancy test, now he was holding his baby girl in his hands.

"I wish I could just freeze this moment and treasure it, it's so peaceful."

"Me too..." y/n agreed.

Y/n looked over at Lewis holding their daughter smiling at the sigh of it. They're finally a family after nine whole months of waiting. Their lives couldn't have been any better.

10 years ago, September 1st

"Okay, do you have everything you need Savanna?" Y/n asks as she grabs her daughter's Hello Kitty backpack, putting it onto her back.

The five-year-old nods her head and looks up at her mom. "Yes, mommy, you asked me that before we left the house too!" Savanna giggled in response. "I know, I'm just making sure!" Y/n smiled at her daughter and pulled out her phone from her pocket.

Lewis was standing next to y/n looking at Savanna and smiling at her. He leaned down to kiss her head and ran a hand through her hair. Savanna clung to Lewis hugging him.

"Okay fine...just one more picture though!" Y/n let out a soft laugh opening her camera.

"Mommy! I've got to go!" Savanna giggled again putting a smile on her face. She pulled away from Lewis standing in front of both of her parents.

"Just one more hug?" Y/n asked looking at Savanna getting down to her level to hug. Savanna ran up into her mother's arms embracing her mom. Y/n kissed her forehead and smiled at her. "Okay, okay! Just have fun and we'll pick you up after school?"

"We can even go for ice cream later!" Lewis exclaimed as he kneeled in front of Savanna. Both of them were smiling ear to ear pulling her into a tight hug.

"Yay!" Savanna exclaimed wrapping her arms around Lewis' neck.

Savanna pulled away one last time and looked around seeing other kids laughing and playing. She looked eager to go meet new kids and looked back up at her parents. Lewis and Y/n were standing next to each other. Lewis had his arm wrapped around y/n as they both had their eyes on Savanna. "Go, go have fun!" Lewis said to her and y/n smiled.

Savanna smiled at them and ran off to the entrance of the school where the other kids were. She turned around looking back at her parents, waving to them. "Bye, mommy! Bye, daddy!" She smiled and ran up to a group of kids.

Lewis and Y/n waved back and softly smiled at Savanna. They couldn't believe that she was growing up so fast. It was their daughter's first day of school and she wasn't looking back and rethinking.

8 years ago, July 25th

"You'll do great, sweetheart," Lewis hugged Savanna.

Today was Savanna's first big gymnastics competition. She's had competition before but nothing this big. There were so many other girls her age competing. It was quite intimidating, especially for a seven-year-old girl. Lewis and y/n would be there though to support their daughter even if they had to watch her from afar, they were still supporting her.

"You promise?" Savanna looked up into her father's eyes.

"I promise you, me and mom are going to be in the stans cheering you on the entire time, okay?" Lewis comforted her. He gently brushed a strand of curly hair out of her face.

Savanna hugged Lewis and y/n with a wide smile on her face. She took her water bottle and her bag with her and ran off to go with her team. Lewis held onto her hand until she started to turn away from him. Both parents were proud of their daughter and how far she's come along.

Savanna placed fourth overall in her events. Even though she didn't get first place, she still got a medal and a proud smile on her face.

"Mommy! Mommy! Daddy! Daddy!" The little girl came rushing up to her parents smiling at them. Savanna barely had her bag on her back and her water bottle hanging her tiny fingers. "Look! Look! I got a medal!"

"Oh, look at that!" Lewis looked at her and hugged her tightly. He placed a kiss on her forehead. "You did really good sweetheart."

"We're so proud of you, baby!" Y/n said as she looked at her daughter and smiled.

"Can we get some ice cream now?" Savanna looked up at Lewis and y/n with puppy dog eyes.

"Yes, we can go get ice cream now," y/n laughed softly and kissed her daughter's head.

Savanna smiled widely and let out a giggle. She was so excited to go get ice cream after a well-deserved day full of gymnastics. "Yay!"

Present Day, January 29th

"Happy birthday dear Savanna, Happy birthday to you! Blow out your candles, sweetheart."

Y/n smiled as she took a photo of Savanna, who was sitting in front of her cake with fifteen lighten candles on top of it. Lewis was next to y/n smiling at his daughter as blew out all fifteen of the candles on top.

"God, you're so old now!" Y/n joked as she smiled and looked at Lewis and Savanna.

"It's like yesterday you were in my arms for the first time and your mom was fawning all over you!" Lewis laughed and so did y/n while Savanna cringed.

"You guys are acting like it's a big deal, I'm only fifteen!" Savanna said as she looked at her parents.

Only fifteen.

That was the only thing Lewis could think of. He didn't realize it but his little girl was growing up right in front of him. He remembered thinking back on the day she was first born, when he said to y/n, "I wish I could just freeze this moment and treasure it, it's so peaceful." He wishes he still could.

#ryeriy #ryeriys blog #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton #mamma mia #slipping through my fingers

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houseofanticipation · 9 months

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You're at the club. Your friend has abandoned you to drink alone. You saw her grinding on some guy earlier, and you guess (correctly) that she's off in some corner somewhere getting railed. You sigh, wishing you could be so lucky.

I watch you take a long sip of your drink. Good. The stuff I put in there is strong, but I still need you to take a few good swallows, or you'll just be sloppy, blackout drunk. Still fun for me, but not what I'm looking for tonight. You set the drink on the bar and turn out to the dance floor. Maybe my little cocktail has given you the confidence to shake your ass a bit, or maybe you're looking for some fresh air. It doesn't really matter, because as soon as you try to take a step you stumble and begin to fall. I'm there in an instant, steadying you, holding you upright as your knees buckle, getting your arm over my shoulder. "Hey now," I say, "looks like someone had too much to drink. Let me get you to somewhere you can sit down."

I give your breast a squeeze as I lead you. it's nice and soft, just like I thought it'd be, and you don't say a word in protest. That means it's working. I take you to the back of the club, where the men's bathroom is. By now I'm basically dragging you, your toes sliding along the floor, your head hanging limp in front of you. I have to put you down for a moment to prop open the door, and the sticky, sour-smelling grime of the club floor leaves a residue on your legs and the ass of your dress. That's fine. You'll be a lot messier by the time the night is through.

This particular bathroom is the reason I chose this club. There's an area where two counters of sinks face each other, each with a huge wall mirror above it. I lift you up to sit on one of the counters, propping you up in the corner so you stay upright. I check your eyes—a little sluggish, but responsive. Perfect. I turn your head to face the other mirror. I want you to see everything. I hike up your dress, and I'm surprised to see you aren't wearing panties. Even more surprising, your pussy is already soaking wet. I look into your eyes again, and I can almost imagine there's something in them. Something hungry.

You're more of a slut than I expected.

Not one to pass up an invitation, I take out my cock and begin to fuck you. You're exactly what I needed: tight, warm, wet. You sit limply as I I pound away at you for a while, watching in the mirror as I use you, Unable to look away. I wonder whether you would if you could.

Then the door opens, and a big guy with a protruding belly comes in. He starts when he sees us, looks like he's deciding if he needs to call someone. I wave him over. "Here, I was pretty much done anyway. Why don't you take a turn?" He's all too happy to oblige, and while he's unzipping his pants I take the permanent marker out of my pocket and take a moment to write on your inner thighs. On one side, the word FREE. On the other: CUNT.

The big guy is eager, I'll give him that much. He starts going to town on you like you're his favorite fleshlight, and he hasn't gotten to cum in months. A few more guys come in while he's doing his business, and after a moment's conference they come over to wait their turn. I watch in satisfaction as the big guy throws his head back, moaning and shooting cum into your pink little pussy. He thanks me, and while he's washing his hands the next guy starts in on you.

The word gets around pretty quick. Before long the bathroom is full of guys waiting to fuck you. The demand is so great, I agree to let them lay you on your side so they can fuck your mouth and ass too. All I demand is that they don't block your view of the mirror. That's the most important part, to me. I want to show you what a whore you are. You're no more than an an object, a collection of warm holes to stick our cocks in. The biggest difference between you and a fleshlight is we don't have to clean you up when we're done with you.

I stay there and enjoy the show for a good few hours, but eventually it's time for me to cum. The hard part is deciding where. Your mouth looks inviting, and I'm sure your asshole is nice and tight, but in the end I decide I didn't get enough of your pussy before. And besides, it's not free mouth or ass. It's free cunt. I wait for the guy currently on you to drop his load—I'm nothing if not courteous—and then I step in and take up where he left off. I try to fuck the cum of all these guys deeper into you, imagining it taking root in your womb. And then I feel something. Your pussy twitches, contracts ever-so-slightly around my cock. I look down at your face, and see you closing your eyes, almost as if in pleasure. Looks like it's time to go; my little cocktail is wearing off. I unload my balls into you, the pent-up cum of hours spent touching myself while I watched these strangers rape you. Maybe it's just my imagination, but I'd swear I hear a soft, desperate moan escape you. Hard to be sure, of course; the cock in your throat mostly drowns it out.

I turn for one last look before I leave. The rush has died down by now, but there's still a good number of guys standing around you. I smile. I doubt they'll be going anywhere any time soon. I turn and walk out the door.

As the drugs wear off, you begin to regain some control of your faculties. You wiggle your toes, twitch your fingers. The dull pounding in your lower regions sharpens into a pair of cocks, draining simultaneously into your pussy and your asshole. Your hips gyrate at the sensation, almost outside of your control. You try to lift your head, but the guy fucking your face pushes you back into the counter, your nose in a puddle of cum. He pulls out and ejaculates on your face—not the first guy tonight to finish in this way, by the feel of it.

He lets go and you attempt to sit up again, this time successfully. The party has gotten the hint that you're coming to, and the last of the rapists are filing out now. You sit your bare ass on the counter and look at your self in the mirror. Your face has received so many loads that it's impossible to distinguish them: they run together into a thick coating of cum. Your dress has been torn open to get at your breasts, which are bruised and sore from all the gripping and squeezing they've taken. Your pussy is swollen and red, and more cum drips out of it each time you move. The marker has bled a bit, but the words FREE CUNT are still very legible, and you doubt they'll wash off any time soon.

Cum runs down your leg as you stand. Your dress is ruined. There's no way you'll be getting your tits back into this thing. Best to wait until everyone's gone home, then make a break for it, hope not too many people see you. That gives you a little time.

You wipe a drop of cum that's run down your cheek and now threatens to fall off your chin. You lick it off your finger, almost curiously. Then you lower your hand between your legs and begin to masturbate.

#r@pe fantasy #r@pe kink #breeding toy #cnc drugging #cnc free use #nsft

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fantasticallyfruity4 · 1 year

Text

You know how people have started telling their kids “if you get lost go find a goth/punk person” bc (rightfully so) like this wild cultural shift has led to us being seen as safe, trustworthy responsible ppl?

Okay

Well

It got me thinking about punk Steve (again. Of corse) and this being a single dad! Eddie steddie meet cute.

I don’t know what’s funnier. Eddie telling little Max and Dustin that if they get lost they should look for someone who looks like him/his friends, someone goth/punk/metal. Or his kids doing it on their own volition. Bc the housewives with their little strollers always give their dad dirty looks and mean sneers in the grocery store but the people who look like their dad and his friends are always nice to him.

However it goes, one day Steve’s at the super market and he feels a small hand tug on the bottom of his battle jacket and a small voice say “excuse me mister?”

And he looks down and this little pippy long stockings kid is looking up at him with a wobbly lip and tears in her eyes and he’s like instantly on alarm and panicked.

“Hey friend, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Where’s your mom?”

“I got lost and I can’t find my daddy and my brother”

“Hey, that’s okay, we’ll find them together. Insta gonna be okay. What do they look like?”

“Uuuh. My daddy looks like you. But with more hair”. And Steve snorts a laugh because yup, that makes sense. Usually parents tell their kids to stay a million miles away from him at all times. Corse this kid is a punks baby. “What’s your bother look like? He got hair like you? What’s his name?”

“Dustin. He’s got brown hair and a big dumb hat”.

Steve snorts. “Think your funny?”

And the little girl giggles. Cool. Good. Mission accomplished.

“So we’re looking for dad and Dustin. Dustin’s got a big dumb hat and dads wearing a jacket like me, yeah?” And she nods. Cool. Okay that’s easy to find. “And what’s your name?” “I’m max”. “That’s a cool name max. I’m steve”

And so Steve and the little girl make a couple laps around the grocery store calling out for Dustin, and finally, finally, they hear panting and squeaking rubber and “max! Oh my god max! You scared the crap out of me!” And this- oh. This gorgeous metal head is running up to the girl and pulling her into his arms, mumbling a string of “don’t scare me like that again” and “I’m sorry baby I’m so sorry baby” and “I was worried sick”.

Sure enough there’s a little kid, bout the same height as max in a big dumb hat next to him.

Metal head dilf finally puts max down whose now hugging dustin who looks just as distraught at their dad was, and the metal head finally takes Steve in.

A glint catches in his eyes.

“You find this nice man to help you?” He asks. And she nods.

“Oh man, thank you so much I’m so sorry for the trouble” he apologizes. Steve just chuckles. “Hey it’s okay, I’m just glad we found you guys. Was getting worried for a few there. I’m Steve” Eddie takes the hand Steve extended. “I’m Eddie, I swear to god I don’t usually loose my kids” and steve laughs. “Hey, it happens to everyone, don’t sweat it. She’s okay, you’re okay, everything’s alright, yeah?”

“I still feel so horrible for the trouble. Is there anything I can do? Please let me atleats buy you a coffee”

Steve looks at his watch. He wishes he could. “I’ve gotta get to work, im really sorry, im already cutting it close since, you know” “oh, oh my god im so so sorry”

Listen. Listen. Steve’s no saint. And there is clearly a lack of a wedding band on this guys hand and 99% of the time if a kid is at a grocery store it’s with their mom. And some of those patches-

Steve’s gotta try.

“Hey, I really have to jet but um, here’s my number. Make good on that coffee some other time?”

“Yeah, yeah absolutely! Absolutely. Thank you, so much again. You’re a lifesaver Steve” Eddie smiles taking the small paper Steve just wrote his number on. (A cocktail napkin from a gay club in indie he just happened to have in his pocket, a god ordained way of making sure they were both on the same page.

#punk Steve #steddie #punk Steve harrington #single dad eddie munson

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gavisuntiedboot · 9 months

Text

Just Pretend (Gavi X Reader)

Epilogue

Warnings: Mentions of injury, blood, stitches, SMUT, p in v sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, explicit language, and more that I can't remember.

Word Count: 12.8k (Fun Fact: If you have read all of JP, that's 186 pages single space of reading.)

A/N: Okay y'all, time to finally put this baby to rest. I was going to wait a little bit longer to do this next part, but with Gavi's injury I needed something to keep me off the Emergency Medicine Manual on ear lacerations. And now Joao is here??? It's just the right time. The universe said so.

Gif Credit: @worldcupwinner

Previously on Just Pretend

"She didn't look at the age. She didn't have to. Her eyes landed on the name: Pablo Martín Páez Gavira. One of the best young football players in the world had just used her as a banister. "Now that you know I'm not a kid, next time, you should let me buy you a drink.""

"He tried to think of something sad, something painful, anything besides the fact that you were leaning over him, touching him so gently while he was in his boxers."

""Don't you think it's a little desperate of you to take off work for a date?"

You looked up at him seething. He stood with his bag strapped over his shoulder, hands in his pockets, hood up to cover his wet hair. His eyes were stern and cold, the usual fire behind them having died down to leave frigid disgust. You would be lying if you said you didn't know about how the Barca men got rid of their sexual frustrations.

"Oh I'm sorry. Next time, Gavi, I'll be classy like you and have weekly sex in a club bathroom.""

"It broke him to see you like this - shaking and in tears in a club bathroom, while the man you were trying to impress was probably grinding on other girls. Gavi told himself it had nothing to do with you specifically, just fairness. You were objectively a good person, and you deserved to be treated well by everyone around you. He tugged your shoulder, bringing you in for a tight embrace. You tucked your head into his shoulder, allowing your tears to fall more freely now that he couldn't see you. Something in you began to calm. It was like Gavi had flipped a switch."

""You can yell at me all you want. You can be angry at the fact that I care about you. You can punch me," he hit on his chest, "right here if you want to. But I am not a child. Don't refer to me as one. So you can go an be upset and pretend that everything I do is selfish, but you know deep down that no matter how much you push me away, I'm looking out for your best interest." He opened the door and stepped aside.

"Drive safely, doctora.""

""No I'm serious. You were having a panic attack in your car. At least... At least come inside and eat something. Maybe have some tea? Anything. I just... want to make sure that you're okay before you leave me."

With wide eyes, you looked up at Gavi after this statement. His cheeks burned, realizing he had slipped up.

"Leave my house. Just come inside.""

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

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

"Anything.""

""Don't leave." He said, voice dry and raspy. You weren't sure if he meant now or the club. You moved your hand to join it with the one on your wrist, giving a gentle squeeze of reassurance, as he had done for you.

"Don't worry. I'll be right back.""

""I wish I could go back to then, sometimes."

"Why is that?"

"I had friends back then."

He looked at you in a strange manner, shifting one strand of hair behind your ear.

"Are we not friends, Doctora?"

"For better or worse, you're my best friend, Pablo.""

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.

And now, months later...

The rays of early-morning light danced around the disheveled bedroom, bouncing across t-shirts and socks littering the floor and bedside table. They reflected across the buzzing phone screen, emitting a shrill beeping that disrupted the serenity that accompanied this time of the day. Try as he might to shield his ears with the fluff of his 'cuddling pillow', the sound penetrated through, stirring him from dreams of pretty eyes and soft lips. Squinting, the numbers on his screen prompted him to groan, rolling out of his warm sheets and onto the chill of the tile floor, needing to shower and dress before Pedri began his ritual of calling him on repeat until his butt was seated on the plush leather of the newly purchased Lambo.

The steam rippled off his sore muscles, and he lathered his mint-scented shampoo in his hands, Pablo cracked his first smile of the day at the thought of your hands on his shoulders the moment you got to work, or in the calm hours after. The whole house lingered with traces of you, but the bathroom was the worst. He had slowly but surely photographed everything in your own bathroom, replicating your set up in his much more luxurious marble shower. From hair to body to skincare, he had every bottle perfectly arranged for you to use on those days when the shared warmth of Pablo's body against yours was too much to overcome, and he lead you upstairs for a night in his arms. Or even better (and yet also worse), when the two of you remained entangled on what Gavi referred to as the "love sofa", waking up with muscle aches and bad breath, but always with the upmost feelings of content.

Every step of Pablo's morning had slowly but surely started revolving around you. He was floating, weightless in your alluring orbit. Su Sol. Su vida. The deodorant he rolled on was never out of stock under his cabinet, and it never would be since you cuddled into him and said he smelled like the ocean. He had spent his weeks in America (when not bedridden) searching for bottles of 1 million, the cologne that you secretly sprayed on the pillows before bed and onto every item of clothing you 'borrowed'. The hair gel was at the back of the cabinet, fated to collect dust because of a gentle run of your fingers and a whisper that you loved when Pablo was "all soft and fluffy".

And as he slipped on his training shirt, the ringing started. He knew it was Pedri informing him that he was at the door, and he hurried as much as possible, as to prevent the ring tone from driving him to the brink of madness. He scurried down the stairs, careful not to crack his head open while running in socks (well, not to crack it open again). He grabbed his bag from its hook by the door, slipping on his shoes. Before exiting, he looked at the wall beside the door. He ran his fingers up the taped photographs slowly. They dragged across the young faces of his old teammates, over is mother and father and sister on a white-sand beach, dancing past the collection of pictures from the Supercopa and the Ballon D'or, and rested on the only picture frame hanging on the wall. It was one of those tacky pink ones that stores sold on Valentine's day, with AMOR written in chunky red glitter. He was sat on your chair at work, your stethoscope around his neck and you perched in his lap in your red scrubs. His right cheek was smooshed from the force of the kiss you left on it, bright red lipstick already marking his other cheek and his lips. He leaned forward, placing a swift kiss to the cool glass, before running out the door to finally stop the incessant calls.

"You know if you had been three minutes later, we would have had to skip the coffee shop." Pedri said, pulling out before the passenger door was fully shut.

"I would rather walk to training than skip that."

"How much money do you make to be buying your girl a large coffee every morning?"

"I would sell my house to keep buying her coffee in the morning."

The words 'that's a little extreme' stopped on the tip of Pedri's tongue - if Gavi was not going to be extreme in his love, then who would be?

"And finally, Nicolas, we have the physio who will be overseeing much of your work. I'll be introducing you two now."

It was comforting to know that Dr. Gonzalez was just as dry with everyone. The muffled words came with a swift three knocks at the door, and he peaked his head in before you could release the permission from your lips.

"May we enter, Doctora?"

"Yes, of course, Dr. Gonzalez. I have no players on my schedule until 8:30. Please come in, make yourselves comfortable."

He entered with a tall, muscular boy behind him, his dark curls falling in front of his bright blue eyes. His scrubs shirt puckered in the chest area, in danger of bursting due to a deep breath. He shuffled in awkwardly, opting to stand behind Dr. Gonzalez rather than occupy the seat next to him.

"Now, Nicolas. Before you is a shining example of what the individuals in your program are capable of achieving. This is-"

"Oh! You're Doctora Gavira!"

There was a moment of radio silence that circled the room, before you had the courage to whisper out, "...what?"

"Nicolas, don't interrupt." Dr. Gonzalez decided to ignore what the new kid had just called you. "This is Doctora y/n y/l/n, who many people refer to as just Doctora. Please do not do that without her explicit permission. She joined us a little over a year ago from the same program you are in, and has been an effective technician who has brought medical success to the club. Barring any tragedies like pregnancy, she will become the club's Assistant Head of Physiotherapy. Despite your initial examination being slightly more disappointing than hers, we believe you can excel under her mentorship. You will be fired upon her first complaint. I'll leave you two alone now to be acquainted. Doctora, please allow him to shadow you through the medical examinations happening today. Thank you both."

Nicolas sat in shock at all the insults that had just been so casually shot through him while you smiled sweetly and waived your boss out the door. As soon as the click of the door was heard, your smile dropped and you were leaning menacingly over the desk.

"Okay, confess right now or lose your job: who told you to call me Doctora Gavira"

"What? I- no one! Are you not married to Gavi?"

"Where would you get that idea?" You asked while sitting back down, the visible tremble in the boy before you extinguishing the anger within you.

"Well, I walked into work this morning and you were getting out of your car and I was saying hey to Ronald who I met during my interview and I said 'oh who is that she's really cute' and he was like 'oh that's the Doctora and you should be careful saying stuff about her because she's Gavi's girl and he will rip your throat out and then she will sew it back into your body' and so after that I just assumed you were his wife because like footballers aren't usually that serious about their girlfriends and I follow a bunch of Gavi fan accounts and none even said that you were his girlfriend because there's this other girl who is actually kind of awful-"

His tangent was only interrupted by a soft knocking at your office door. You yelled for whatever angel to enter, grateful from the save from the worst verbal diarrhea you had seen in years. And it was the sweetest angel of all who poked his head through the door, hair freshly washed and frizzing slightly in the August humidity. He held a large chilled coffee in one hand, using the free one to rest his weight on the back of your chair. He leaned down to complete his routine with a good morning kiss, but the look you gave Pablo over the rim of your glasses made him hesitate. It was then that he noticed the individual sat across from you. Locking eyes with him, Pablo opted for a kiss on the crown of your head, muttering a gentle “Bon día, mi doctora.”

Nicolas' eyes followed the way your hand smoothed over Gavi's bicep in the most obvious way possible, and it had the young Sevillano tensing.

"Pablo," you started before he could come up with his own conclusions, "meet Nicolas. He's going to be training under me for his work placement."

"Nice to meet you, Pablo!" Shooting up out of his chair, he extended a sweaty handshake that was left hanging in the air.

"Gavi."

"Huh?"

"Call me Gavi."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought because-"

"You want to call me the same name my girlfriend does?" A smile played across Pablo's lips: he was obviously joking, but the intern before him shook like a leaf and sweat bullets, hand still frozen in the air. Letting out a soft laugh, Pablo took his hand, embracing the new intern and reassuring him that he wasn't about to be slaughtered.

"All the boys call me Gavi - don't want you to feel out of place. Welcome to the club. You have the best teacher - I would know."

"Right! Because she's you're girlfriend!"

"Because she's the physiotherapist that's been working on me for the last year..."

Silence once again.

"Nicolas, maybe you should go watch the warmups. I'll be out in a few minutes. Field is out the door to your left."

The boy sent you a look of gratitude to be freed from ... whatever that was. He all but ran out the door, leaving it slightly ajar as Pablo watched him turn the corner, finally having enough privacy to capture you in the delicate kiss he had been waiting for since he saw you a mere 10 hours ago.

"Bon dia, Pablito. Did you sleep well?"

"Not as well as when you're next to me."

Despite asking the same question for weeks on end, he always gave the same answer. It was about a month into the two of you officially dating when he asked you to move into his place. Of course you vehemently declined, citing reasons such as not being able to break your lease and not wanting to intrude on his space. But deep down there was the unspoken truth. Every day you held your breath waiting for Pablo's answer to change. To tell you that he had slept just fine on his own, and that he may sleep even better beside someone else. The day had yet to come, and a small part of you dared to hope it never would.

"That sounds rough. Any way I can make it up to you for going home?"

"Here? In your office? I mean if you insist..."

You smacked him playfully on the arm as both of your giggled filled your office space. Pablo was acutely aware of the fact that every time he spoke to you about the subject, it was in vague terms and half truths. Pablo wanted you to move in more than he wanted almost anything else. In his mind it was the perfect scenario: he would wake up with you enveloped by his arms, breathing rhythmically against his skin. You would get into the shower, hot water rolling down your spine as he laid out your scrubs (the red and black ones were his favorites). He would make you a coffee on the ridiculously expensive espresso machine that would be arriving in 7-14 business days - right after your school and work joint evaluation. The drive to work would be filled with soft melodies and hushed conversations. The drive home would be more vibrant, with Pablito on the AUX and the windows rolled down. And then he would get to come home and help you make dinner, trying not to burn or spill as he set two porcelain dining bowls on the coffee table, under the watchful, scowling eyes of the two of you frozen in a photo. Then he would lay his head back on the couch, his chin on your crown, running his fingers up and down your back to trace your spine. The TV would be playing reruns of the same show for the thousandth time, but it didn't matter. It was the best possible feeling Pablo knew: familiarity.

It was hard being a generational talent. Sure, it came with tons of admiration and praise, but it was also riddled with constant change. Changing your hometown for a big new city. Trading your neighborhood full of friends for an academy of classmates, who you were always reminded were your competition. Exchanging hugs from mom and home-cooked meals with yelled instructions and drills in the rain. Even now, after years of playing with the first team and reaping the success, Pablo couldn't help but think about how nice it would be to stay in one city all the time, taking one set of roads that he could memorize.

But now he had you. And not in the same way as before. In a sense, he always had you. No matter how much you were irritated with the boy, you were always a phone call away. You were always ready to help heal his ailments, despite the eye-rolls that came with it. And when he had come to you at his most vulnerable, trembling hands and open heart, you had been as you always were: ready to take him as he was and treat him with delicacy and love.

No matter where Gavi went, there was still something familiar with him. When he was on a red-eye to Madrid, he could lead against the curve of your shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of your hair and feeling the warmth of your skin. On a tiring night after training, he could always come home and be beside you, tracing the curves of your body that he had memorized, every mark and dip on your skin a landmark that reminded him he was home. The sound of your voice was melodic and soothing, and he could never get enough of the way you said his name.

"Mi Pablito."

Now was no different. The sound of your scrubs shifting, the chill of your coffee against his palm, the way your lips moved against his, so soft with delicate pressure - all of it he already knew, and that was the best part.

"Are you going to come over tonight?"

He always asked. Again, he knew the answer was going to be a huff followed by a shy 'of course', and yet he asked anyways. He loved the stability and the routine. He loved hearing you say that he was the person you preferred to spend your time with.

"Mm of course, mi Pablito. But I might be a little late. I have a lot of paperwork."

"Late? As in, you wouldn't go home with me?" Pablo's pout was adorable, puffy and pink and complemented by his beautiful brown eyes that reflected the fluorescent lights.

"I'm going to try my best not to be here too long, but it's looking like I'm going to be a while. I have to finish the reports about your improvement over the last year for my evaluation next week, do the medical examinations for the new first team members, and now I have this new kid Nicolas."

"First team players? Iñigo and Oriol finished their exams weeks ago. Besides, tomorrow is deadline day. Why would they leave the medical exams until now." Pablo was already stripping off his shirt and laying in your table, ready for you to help with his persistent back pain. You had initially thought he was lying, searching for any reason to have your hands on him during business hours. But then you actually felt his latissimus and erector spinae, and they were so tensed that for a moment you thought about injecting a relaxer into his lower back. So every morning he came in for tension relief at your magical fingertips. But the coos of "aw poor baby" and you leaned over him for half an hour every morning was definitely not going to illicit any complaints.

"Oh, well, there's still more medical procedures to be done. Fermin and Lamine have to be re-examined since Luca forgot tests 12.4 and 17.1. And Joao needs to get his examination." You placed your hands on Pablo's back, apologizing softly for how cold they were. Your first session after the two of you had gotten together, he threatened to burn every latex glove in the club. He hated the way they felt, and now that he was having a lot of skin-to-skin time, he felt that the gloves were pointless.

"Oh, I forgot that Cancelo had flown in. He's going to do wonders for our defense. Just like you're doing wonders for my back, mi amor." He allowed his eyes to flutter shut, breathing deeply and focusing on the feeling of your fingertips. Looking over your shoulder, you ensured the hallway was empty before leaning down to kiss the gentle dip where his spine was. It released a little giggle from Pablo, who tutted and said that you were trouble.

"Just relax. You think I would ever get you in trouble?"

"Oh I was in trouble the first moment that I saw you, mi Doctora."

Before you could respond, your office door swung open, and Nicolas' worried face was staring back at you.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Doctora!! I should have knocked! I didn't realize you were... occupied."

"Why did you pause before- you know what, I don't want to know. What's up Nicolas?"

"Mister Xavi wanted me to tell you that Joao is here on the field, and that he should be examined as soon as possible so he can join the morning training."

Your fingers stilled and your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Gavi felt your shift but remained silent. When the two of you first started dating, he had been very protective, borderline your official spokesperson in the club. He would tell the other players you couldn't meet with them when he knew you had paperwork, and would react harshly to those who questioned your medical decisions. It had gotten you reprimanded by Dr. G, who had reminded you that your relationship should not interfere with your work. And you didn't need to be a genius to know that the players being too intimidated to get physiotherapy was 'interference with work'.

"I had him on the schedule for later this afternoon. I guess Mister wants him training earlier. I have 10 minutes left with Gavi, and then we'll both be out on the practice field."

Just as Gavi's eyes began to droop and his muscles relaxed enough for him to drift into a peaceful sleep, you were by his ear whispering for him to wake up.

"Come on, mi campeon - you have to go to training."

"Mm I don't want to," he mumbled as he rolled over, abs on display as he smiled up at you. "It's so nice and comfortable here."

You rested your hands on his hips, tracing them slowly up his slow stomach, leaving a trail of heat in your path. They continued upward until your palms lay flat on his pecs, and you leaned in to place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose.

"Stay here then. Take a little nap while I finish the medicals. In the meantime, they'll have Fermin take your place, and then he'll win the Golden Boy next year, and maybe he'll fall in love with his physio on the sidelines..."

"Ah yes, I can see it now," he said, "the beautiful story between Fermin and his physio... Nicolas."

You both burst out laughing at the mental image of the tall Nicolas sweeping Fermin into a homoerotic, Mbappe-Giroud embrace after he scored a goal. You walked over to the chair, tossing Gavi his training shirt and watching it slip back over the defined, rippling muscle, remaining taunt against his biceps. He opened the door for you, placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the field. The 9am sun was beaming on the late August grass, reflecting the dew on the grass and the beads of sweat glistening on the boys that were running laps and stretching (some better than others - you made a mental note of who you would probably be seeing later). Pablo shot you a quick wink before scurrying off towards his peers.

"Bon dia, Doctora!" The yell came from across the pitch, and was accompanied by the excited waves from Fermin and Balde, who were having the time of their lives making fun of their whipped friend. Pedri had been part of that group initially, joining in on the taunting before games about how he was looking for injuries just to have her run onto the field. He had lingered with the other boys in the locker room to point out any bruises or scratches that Pablo had acquired, teasing him about 'finally getting some'. But since you had become best friends with his crush/ nemesis, it had become a lot harder to make fun of the younger boy without repercussions.

The older players had been overjoyed for the two of you, especially uncle Lewy. His bond with Gavi was special to him, and far surpassed just their relationship on the field. He saw his younger self in Pablo, and couldn't help the feeling he got watching the boy fall in love. The way that Gavi was fiercely protective of you, so excited to watch you shine, reminded him of Anna and all the light she brought to his life. It was a sight that made everyone's chest swell - watching the two of you interlock fingers and walk to your car every evening, smiling sweetly and leaning against each other. Robert hoped that the happiness Gavi felt was lifelong.

"Bon dia, Mister." You approached the coach and he met you with a smile and a clap on the shoulder.

"Doctora, always a good morning when we have you with us during practice."

"I'm flattered, coach. I heard from Nicolas that you wanted me to do Joao's medical now? I was scheduled to oversee morning practice and complete his medical this afternoon. Has there been a change in what needs to be done today so I can adjust the schedule?" You asked, watching the players do their drills.

"Oh, I guess we didn't send out a memo. Not surprising, because the deal was finalized last night. You're correct, Cancelo is going to arrive within the hour and be examined in the afternoon. However, Joao had already arrived and is currently changing. I think his exam should go quickly, given that you can work off of his previous La Liga paperwork, which should be in your email. I would really appreciate if you could complete it now so that he can join the second half of this morning's training."

If the confusion wasn't evident across your face, you decided to vocalize it.

"Sorry, Mister, but isn't Cancelo Joao? Is there something I'm missing?"

"Oh," he laughed out, "my apologies. I announced it before warm-ups began, but you were still in your morning session with Gavi. The club has secured a loan deal for this season for Joao Felix from Atletico. He should be waiting for you in the hall by your office."

Gavi watched the color drain from your face from across the field, and you couldn't help the feeling of anxiety that flooded your system. If you hadn't heard the announcement, then neither had Pablo, and given your track record with Felix, you knew that it wasn't going to be his favorite news.

"Ah, that's great news!" You tried to sound as enthusiastic as possible. "I just need to get Nicolas so he can shadow me and give the boys some stretch instructions before you get started with the team drills. Do you mind?" Xavi indicated for you to step on the field, and you all but sprinted over to Gavi and his teammates. Nicolas stood there, trying his best not to die of anxiety while chatting with the players and taking notes on the specific stretches that each one of them has been assigned by you.

"Hi Doctora." The greeting came from Ferran, who, after several weeks of therapy, had reached out to you to apologize for his behavior. He was keeping his relationship professional, and the personal growth you had seen was surprising. It didn't erase the hurt he had caused you, but allowed you to work with him without wanting to punch him in the face. Maybe after some more time (and therapy), you could be as friendly with him as the boys were.

"Hi Ferran. Looking good, boys. Pedri, that right hamstring needs more work." You quickly shot out, receiving a sigh as he worked out his leg for the third time. The rest of the boys looked like they were ready to engage in small-talk, but you beat them to it.

"So, are you guys excited about the new signings coming in today?" You asked, bouncing on one leg to the other.

"Very. I think Felix is going to be a fantastic contribution to the last third of the field. Will really help our attacking power." Pedri said absent-mindedly, grimacing at the effort necessary to help release the tension in his thigh.

"Felix?" Gavi was obviously confused, eyebrows stitching together, making him look even more angry bird-like than usual.

"Oh, right, you weren't here." Fermin said, turning to his childhood friend. "They finalized Joao Felix. He's arriving today and training with us after his medical exam."

"Which I'm about to go do right now." You added on quickly, hoping to rip off the Band-Aid.

"You're going to be alone with Felix?" Gavi asked in what was probably a louder tone than intended. Pablo would never describe himself with the word 'jealous'. Why would he be? He knew what he brought to the table. He was cute, successful, and was absolutely head-over-heels in love with you in a way that bordered obsession. He knew that the Portuguese playboy had nothing on him in that respect. But whenever he thought back to the stories you had told him about your first meeting with Felix, or back to the Ballon D'or when he had so effortlessly wrapped himself around you, it made the bile rise in his throat.

"Well," you tried to ignore the looks of the players around you, with their ears pricked up and waiting waiting with baited breath for your response. "Not alone. Nicolas is going to be there."

Silence. A beat passed. The another. Then another and another until the silence grew almost unbearable.

"Alright, mi Doctora. See you during the break, then." Pablo's soft eyes reached yours, and you unexpectedly found not a singular trace of negative feeling. Not one heat flare of jealousy or anger crossed his features, and it was borderline unsettling.

Pablo's eyes remained trained on you as you re-emerged, Nicolas to your left and Joao flanking the right. The three of you spoke freely and lightly, and Gavi strained his ears to try and listen in on what had the trio giggling. As Nicolas departed to report back to Dr. G, you continued towards Pablo with Joao by your side.

"I know you two have met and shoved each other many times," You said, extending your hand to help pull Pablo to his feet. "But I thought it was time to introduce the two of you on friendly terms. Pablo, this is Joao Felix, our new striker. And Joao this is Gavi, our brilliant golden boy midfielder and," you waved at him to lean in closer, "my brilliant boyfriend." The wink you shot him had Pablo blushing like a schoolgirl, and Joao clapped him on the shoulder affectionately.

"Ay, look at that. Always the winner, irmao. The doutora was actually a big part in helping me come to the club of my dreams, so I'm really thankful for her."

"Really?" Pablo questioned.

"Remember? I told you I was reviewing his health profile. We did it together actually when I was over for-"

"For when Aurora was in town. You're right."

You left the boys shortly after, sitting at your desk anxiously. You knew that Gavi's reaction was... uncharacteristic at best. He had been very unhappy when he found out that you were reviewing his file for a transfer. Help was also a relative term...

"Mi vida, you can't be serious!"

"Pablo, they didn't ask me for my personal opinion on the matter. They sent me the medical profile of a player for a injury probability analysis and fitness examination. They didn't even include his full name."

"Right. J. F. from Atletico Madrid. What a mystery!"

Pablo flopped onto the bed, arms crossed and pouting as he got under the covers. He looked down at his lap, praying that you didn't use the J-word. He wasn't jealous. He wasn't. Feelings like jealousy and insecurity never found their way into his system. But he just... didn't like it. He didn't like the idea that someone was walking around thinking about you in a sinful manner. He replayed over and over in his head your account of the first time you had met 'Portugal boy'. How he 'hoped to see more of you'. Sick bastard. Your sweet, innocent mind had let the comment slide quickly, interpreting it as him wanting to see you around. But Pablo, who had spent the last year of his life trying to protect you from creeps and weirdos (his colleagues), he looked into it more deeply. See more of you meant see more of you, aka your body. Now Pablo was in bed seething at his own theories. Of Joao flirting with you, getting you alone, getting hard from your gentle touches as you simply did you job, and then...

"No. I don't like it. Just lie and say that he's too mentally ill for the club. We already have Ferran and Pedri - the club therapists are overworked." He pulled the covers up to his chin and turned his back to you, and you could tell that he was genuinely distressed. You crawled under the covers as well, your nightgown shifting up around your legs.

"Aw, lito, come here." You slid into the space behind him, tugging on his arm lightly to get him to unravel. He let himself go slack, allowing you to pull him into you. You turned him to lay on your chest, shell of his ear tuned into the rhythmic breathing of your heart. You pulled his arm around your waist, and he couldn't resist the urge to cuddle closer into you. One hand came up to gently rake your nails through his soft locks. The pressure of your lips on his crown allowed him to release a shaky breath. "Talk to me."

"I just... I don't know. When you bring him up it just turns my stomach." The pout could be heard in his voice as he brought the rest of his body into your side.

"Are you jealous?"

"No of course not." He breathed out all at once. "I would like to think our relationship is stronger than your old celebrity crush working with you." He felt the vibration of your chest as you giggled, and it lightened up the heavy feeling in his core. "But it just... doesn't feel good. Knowing there's someone else who wants you and gets to be so close to you."

You refrained from telling Pablo that was the literal definition of jealousy. And simultaneously, he refrained from telling you that a small, very very tiny part of his brain wasn't sure that you wouldn't leave him for Joao. The man was beautiful, there was absolutely no denying it, and had experience being in a long term committed relationship. It certainly didn't help that Joao was two years your senior. Pablo's insecurity around his age fluctuated in intensity, but was persistently present. It had gotten worse the more strangers found out about your relationship. When he told his friends back in Sevilla, he was met with wolf whistles and encouragement to 'improve quickly' before you left for someone more 'experienced'.

And now Pablo's brain was moving rapidly, thinking about all the small jabs his friends had made about your sexual life. "Just make sure she isn't faking it." That particular one had come from Pedri of all people, who rapidly realized his attempt at a harmless joke had sent the younger boy spiraling. Were you faking? Did you want someone who had slept with more women? Were your instructions about where he should move or how hard he should go normal? Or was that a product of sleeping with someone freshly 19?

"Do you wish I was older?"

Pablo had asked this question often, but always got the same answer. He always got the reassurance that you knew he needed in difficult moments.

"Of course not, Pablo. I don't wish anything about you, or about us, was different. Except maybe I wish we would have gotten together sooner." You punctuated the sentiment with another soft kiss to his head, cradling him close to your chest. He didn't relax this time, however. He followed up with a question that had been plaguing him since the two of you got together, but that he never had the courage to know the answer to.

"Do you... wish I was better at sex?"

You were frozen as Pablo buried his burning cheeks into your side, embarrassed by the way he had decided to phrase his query. You brought your hand up to grasp his chin and turn him to meet your eyes.

"Why would you ask that?"

"I don't know, it's just... something I've been thinking about."

"Has the sex not been good for you?"

"No! No of course not," he sat up on one elbow, trying to quickly remedy the situation so that you both wouldn't stay up until the early hours riddled with anxiety.

"I've just been thinking because... well one time me and the boys were talking..."

"Oh no here we go."

"And Pedri mentioned how it kind of takes a long time to get girls to finish."

"Mhm..."

"And then Fermin agreed."

"I can't believe you guys had this discussion in front of baby Fermin." You clasped a hand over your mouth.

"He's older than I am and that's not the point. Focus, mi doctora. So they were talking about things to make a girl finish faster and naturally I was confused because you don't take that long to finish."

"Pablo please tell me you didn't-"

"I obviously didn't say 'oh my girl cums in under 5 minutes', but I just disagreed with them." Your head was in your hands as he continued his story.

"So then they were like no no it takes forever, especially the first time. And I said that the last time I had sex with a new girl, it only took me like 10 minutes." You were bright red, unable to respond to the news that the team was hearing how long your average orgasm took.

"And then Pedri said that you might be faking it and that's why it didn't take a long time. And then I asked why a girl would fake it and he said because when the guy can't lay pipe well the girl gets bored and fakes it so the sex can end faster. And I know that I really like having sex with you but I don't know if you like having sex with me so-"

You interrupted Pablo by grabbing his chin and pulling him towards you, kissing his pouting lips mid sentence. It was too much - too adorable for you to control yourself.

"Pablito, I love you." You held his face in your hands, just watching the way his beautiful eyes reflected the low light of the bedside lamp.

"It's okay, you can tell me if I'm bad." He said softly, genuinely waiting for his feelings to be hurt.

"You're not bad, Pablo. Not even close. You're actually... okay don't start dancing when I say this but you're the best sex I've ever had."

You could feel the blood pool to his cheeks and the muscles tense to repress a smile.

"Is that so? Please feel free to elaborate." You rolled your eyes, knowing you were feeding his ego, but knowing he probably needed it in that moment.

"I've had sex with other people and none of them... well they never got me to finish, you know? I didn't even think I could finish during sex before you."

Pablo's head dripped to rest against your chest, face nestled in the valley of your breasts, breath labored against you. Your words were most certainly turning him on. He brought his hands to your thighs, playing with the hem of your satin slip, and you knew you were not going to be sleeping for the foreseeable future.

"Can you... can you keep talking, mi amor?" Who were you to deny your baby?

"You know it's not just the way you move your hands," you started as the material began to rise up your legs. "It's just you, Pablo. Just the thought of you gets me ... soaking." He let out a strangled moan against you, your words obviously having the desired effect.

"Sometimes I see you when we're at work, licking your lips or wiping your sweat with the hem of your shirt and I have to look away because otherwise," You stopped to let out a shaky breath as his hands rested on your hips, fingers ghosting the hem of your dampening panties.

"Otherwise I would have to lock my office door for a suspicious amount of time."

It was your turn to moan softly as he started kissing down your sternum, hands also moving your panties down to expose you to the cool air and Pablo's hungry eyes.

"Have you," he paused to kiss your ankle, the charm that hung there teasing him. He had seen it after your first night together, the blank tag hanging on the interlocking chain. He had stolen it one day after you look it off to shower, getting a stethoscope engraved into one side and a football onto the other. His favorite sight was to watch it dangle by his ear.

"Have you... ever," another kiss, up by your knee, "thought about me," kissed to your inner thigh now, "when you..." he trained off, hands reaching up to gentle massage your boobs while he centered his face, labored breathing hitting your soaking pussy.

"Yeah..." you breathed out, almost to the point of vibrating when he placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Tell me about it." He said, looking up through gorgeous lashes as he poked his tongue out, the tip teasing your clit in soft, delicate kitten licks.

"There was this one time... before we," you moved a hand to your breast, placing it over his. You needed the contact, needed more of Pablo. "Before we got together."

"Oh?" His verbal response was short, but the admission made him use the rest of his tongue, still licking slowly and deliberately, but now capturing more of you with his perfect mouth.

"I was watching you in- ah - in a match," he moved his hand off your chest to lace his fingers with yours. "And you wiped your brow with the hem of your shirt and- ah fuck Pablo." He was now flattening the length of his tongue against you, the soft pressure making you want to buck your hips up into his gorgeous face.

"I really want to hear this story, mi sol. So if I need to stop.."

"No!" You said while shooting up, tightening your hold on his hand. He resumed his pleasurable ministrations and you tried your hardest to form words.

"I saw the bottom of your abs and thought about what it would b-be like if I was on top of you..." He was getting more deliberate now, moving his tongue in figures and slipping it into you occasionally, which made your back arch off the mattress.

"And then you- fuck! You spit on the field and I just.. I.. I had to...Pablo fuck I can't!"

Your eyes were shut now, unable to do anything but whine as Pablo sucked on your clit, rolling it in his mouth before releasing it and fucking you slowly with his tongue. He pulled away completely, kissing you once before he came up to meet you at eye level.

"What did you do, mi amor?"

His eyes were looking at yours with such a delicateness that you almost came on the spot. He looked at your swollen lips, your blown out pupils, the way your chest heaved, and he was ready to pledge his life to worshipping you. He looked at you the way people looked at paintings of angels: in admiration of a beauty too great to be human. He kissed you slowly and deeply, fingers circling your slick entrance.

"It's okay, tell me."

"I... I got off on my couch to the thought of you spitting on me. Or, doing anything to me actually. You don't understand how much I love you, Pablo. Everything you do sets me on fire."

With that, he captured your lips again, swallowing the high pitched whine he elicited by slipping in his fingers. He pumped you slow and hard, making sure to feel every ridge within you, taking his time to find that one magic spot that would return the angel underneath him to heaven.

"I love you more, mi vida." He brought his lips down to your neck, kissing you sweetly, before moving his lips to join his hands. Suddenly it was all too much. His plump and swollen lips sucking on your clit as two of his fingers pumped in and out of you and a merciless pace, and moments later you were grinding onto his face, cutting off his air, and whimpering out how much you loved him and how good he was to you. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your body arched so far off the mattress you were sure you were floating. When you came down from your high and regained your vision, you brought Gavi up to you, kissing him passionately.

"You're amazing, Pablo. You're always so good to me. So, so good I love you."

"Yeah?" He was leaning over you now, watching you fight sleep while recovering from the power of the climax you had just reached. He kissed your neck sweetly, sucking gently on your throat to leave a beautiful bruise at the base - enough to be visible the next day, but not dark enough to where it couldn't be covered with some makeup.

"Yeah. You're so good, Pablo." You ran your fingers through his hair for the millionth time, keeping him pressed against you, the electricity running through you. You moved one hand down to Pablo's boxers, rubbing his weeping member over his boxers, making his movements falter. His breathing was heavy against you, and you felt his hips move to rut against your palm.

"If you're tired," he panted out, "we... we can stop. I don't want you-"

"No," you moved to sit up, pushing Pablo's shoulders so that your positions were reversed, with his back against the headboard and you straddling his hips. You moved down, lips on his pulse point while your hands helped him removed the boxers caging him in.

"I want to make you feel good, mi Pablito. Let me show you how good you are."

Your naked pussy, still slick from your arousal and Pablo's spit, moved against his leaking cock, the friction driving both of you crazy. You continued to suck on his neck, moving from behind his ear down to his collarbone, and making your way back up to his Adam's apple. It was romantic and slow and sensual, the way his shaft rocked back and forth between your lips.

"Mi amor, so good, I- fuck." It was his turn to be left speechless as you slowly seated yourself on the tip of his dick. Your forehead was pressed against his, and he opened his eyes to gaze into yours as you seated yourself fully. Hands met his hard chest as you struggled to breathe, the stretch too pleasurable for you to want to move an inch. Grabbing at your thighs and leaning back against the headboard, Pablo began lifting you up and fucking into you, slow and hard and deep. He was in 7th heaven, watching the way your eyes watered from the overwhelming feeling of being so full.

"You're so good lito - the best. Fuck, fuck, no one can fuck me like you can."

"Ay mi amor," he sped up, the praise going straight to his libido, "going to cum."

"Cum inside me. Please, Pablo. I'm yours. Make me yours."

He encircled the back of your neck and brought your lips together in a harsh clash of tongue and teeth as he came, moaning into your mouth. He brought a hand down to finish you off as well, forcing his eyes open to capture yours screwing shut in pleasure.

As the two of you laid down for bed, exhausted and ready for sleep, Pablo took his normal place on your chest, bringing up your leg over his waist. He loved to be this close to you.

"So, lito, you think those were real?"

"Your words can lie, mi Doctora, but you of all people should know that you can't fake that death grip. That was definitely real."

It had been a week since then, and the new season was three games deep. Gavi had his insecurities quelled slightly by your consistent affections (and after ensuring he could make you cum), but it didn't make him like Joao any more than before. He still harbored negative feelings towards the Portuguese player. To the other club members, it was understood that Gavi was upset over his childhood friend Ansu being replaced. But to you and his closest friends? It was evident that he wasn't happy with the immediate comfort Joao felt towards you.

"Good morning, doutora! Thank you so much for that late night session - you really worked out my thighs like magic."

"Oh, are you coming out with us to the club? You should - I want to see how you look when you're not all professional."

"The boys from Chelsea say Hi, doutora. They're all telling me how lucky I am to be working under you."

All these comments had gotten under Gavi's skin in the days they were training, and today was no different. While Gavi was running drills, Joao found you on the side of the field and began a conversation with you about F1.

"Oh yeah, it sucks sometimes, but I can't be anything other than a Ferrari fan. I was able to get Pablo into it as well because of the Netflix show."

"Oh, is he also a Ferrari boy?"

"Oh, well he is, but I think he just does that for me. He's secretly rooting for Hamilton every race."

And despite not knowing the topic of the conversation, it absolutely boiled Gavi's blood to watch you talk and laugh so freely with this man who so obviously wants you. His frustration came out on the field, gaining him swift corrections from Xavi to think with his brain and not whatever was angering him at that current moment. When training concluded, he stood near Joao in the locker room, listening to his conversation with Cancelo and Ferran. When the Portugese boy noticed the small Spaniard's stare, he turned to him.

"Great job in training today, Pablo."

"Gavi. Only my parents and my girlfriend call me Pablo."

"Ay, sorry, Gavi. Must have gotten confused after taking to y/n."

"Are you trying to fuck my girlfriend?"

The question sent a shock around the locker room, and suddenly, there was silence. Everyone waited with baited breath to hear the response to the question and the subsequent aftermath.

"What?"

"You have like forty guys on this team that you could be working to get closer to and yet at every opportunity you're beside my girlfriend. So, are you trying to fuck her?"

"No, of course not! I-"

"Then what are you doing?" Pablo knew he was making a scene and that he would be told off for it later, but at the present he didn't care. All he wanted was to understand the plot of his new teammate and potentially his girlfriend's new man.

"Gavi, can we step outside?" Joao's maturity was showing in this moment. He was not about to start a scene two days before he was meant to step on the grass of one of the best clubs in the world. Gavi angrily followed him out of the locker room, prepared to throw insults or punches: whatever the situation called for.

"Okay, Gavi. I'm going to be honest with you because we're teammates and I think we could end up being friends. And because I feel like there's no point in lying. When I first met your girl in London, I thought she was gorgeous."

"I don't know why you thought this would help you build a friendship with me." Gavi deadpanned, anger rising to his throat. His new teammate had 30 more seconds before he lost it completely.

"No I- what I'm trying to say is yes, I did have a crush on her. You're not delusional."

"I already knew that."

"Let me finish!"

"Talk faster!"

"I had a crush on her but then Kepa told me she was with you and I laid off but then I saw her at the ceremony and she said she wasn't dating anybody so then she said her feet hurt from the shoes and she wanted to go back to her room so I walked her there and I asked her out and she said no and I was confused because she was single and she said she was waiting for someone and I just kind of figured it was you because you're the only thing she talked about that entire night and I am very happy for the both of you but feelings don't just disintegrate and I don't want to be a douche who has feelings for your girlfriend so please just tolerate me until I get over mu crush!"

Joao yelled out his entire confession in one breath to answer Gavi's request for speed. It threw the younger boy for a loop, and he was silent for a long moment while he processed what he wanted to say in response.

"So.... you asked out my girlfriend and got rejected?"

"Yes, but before she was your girlfriend!"

"So when my girlfriend was single, free from the guilt of cheating, you asked her out and she rejected you because she was waiting for someone else?"

"Yes."

"Yes let's go!"

Joao was utterly confused by the reaction of the boy. He was ready for yelling, maybe to run for his life, but he never expected Gavi to be smiling, punching the air and celebrating. He turned back to Joao, pulling him into a tight hug and smacking him on the back with strength that bordered on malicious, and then beamed up at him.

"Oh we're going to be just fine. Welcome to the team."

It was the stuff of dreams and fantasy. You couldn't believe the scene before you. On the sidelines at the home game in a full Olympic stadium, the fans shouting at the top of their lungs. Barca had just scored the equalizer against Osasuna, and they were coming off the field, little blobs of neon teal ready to prep for the second half. Felix and Cancelo were stretching, ready to make an appearance. A streak flew towards you, and in the tunnel you were met with a grass-stained Gavi, who hugged your middle and kissed you passionately on the cheek.

"You're doing wonderfully, mi Pablito." You said as you walked towards Ilkay to re-bandage his fingers.

"So are you, mi Doctora."

"I haven't really done anything yet." You said as Gavi moved towards the huddle to hear the second half strategy from Xavi.

"And let's please keep it that way! Don't get blood on your new kit."

And it was almost like you had spoken it into existence. There was an electric energy on the grass in the first half, but when the Joaos came on, it was like something just clicked. There was magic dancing through the air, and it seemed like the ball never left Barca's last third. It was just a matter of getting the timing right. And God, was it breathtaking. The midfield was moving like shadows, unstoppable as they fed the ball to Felix. He worked with Balde on the left, lighting fast reflexes that had you on your feet in an instant. It was an impeccable cross, soaring high above the defense line and meeting perfectly with Gavi, who had somehow levitated a foot in the air, and then was catapulted into the far corner of the net. The roar of the crowd was deafening, and you grasped Nicolas harshly and shook him, nearly throwing him to the ground as you screamed with excitement. Gavi had just scored the goal that put them ahead with an assist from Joao. Twitter was going to go insane.

You jumped on the sidelines, hands digging into the pockets of your jacket. You had finally taken what you see as a rather bold step and gotten yourself a Barca kit. Not just any kit - a home kit with 'Gavi 6' in bright white lettering on the back. You had yet to show it to him, wanting it to be a surprise reward. And there was no more perfect time than today. You daydreamed about his reaction, seeing his name on you. You dared to picture a wide smile, and him pulling you close, whispering in your ear how sexy you looked telling the world you were his.

You exited your daydream in time to witness the horrific scene on the pitch. Osasuna were obviously not happy with the performance of the team, and as usual, Gavi got the brunt of the emotionally charged response. They were shoving him, triple-teaming him, using every opportunity to get him on the ground. As Gavi moved into the penalty area, one of the opposing players decided that he couldn't, under any circumstance, let him score again. His arm went up, and his elbow collided directly with Gavi's right ear. The rest was in slow motion - much like the day Gavi took a knee to the groin. You watched the blunt force cause his skull to recoil, and he fell rather limply to the grass. His teammates gathered around, but you weren't going to wait to be called cover. You grabbed you bag and began pulling on your gloves, but a yell caught your attention. It was Joao's voice that got through to you, and over the roar of fans and coaches and disgruntled teammates, you made out the word 'blood' on his lips, and watched as he pointed to his ear.

You sprinted. Nicolas tried to follow, but even with his long legs he couldn't keep up with your speed. Gavi was on the ground. One arm across his eyes, and you could hear him whimper in pain. You looked around his head and saw them: the bright red drops on the grass, all stemming from the side of Pablo's head.

"Pablo, where are you-"

"Ear. From my ear."

You grasped Gavi's hand, wanting to move his arm so you could see, and he moved his hand into yours so that he could clutch it, squeezing hard because of the pain. You soon saw why. You suppressed your gasp as to not spark fear within him. His ear had been split clearly, the blunt force trauma rupturing the skin and causing heavier bleeding than you had seen in a long time.

"You need to come off, Pablo. You're bleeding badly."

"I want to stay on. It doesn't hurt terribly."

"Pablo-"

"Please. Help me stay on."

You nodded, deciding it was better to act fast than to argue. You sat him up, getting the saline and irrigating his ear from the blood. The cut was worse than you had previously anticipated, as you saw cartilage peak through before for the crimson returned once again. You continued to quickly clean and clear blood, a small mound of blood and iodine soaked gauze forming beside you. There wasn't enough time to give him stitches- even the continuous ones would be too slow. Gauze and medical tape would certainly not be enough to keep his ear covered and clean for these last 15 minutes. And plus, his cartilage was oxidizing quickly. You needed to close the cut, and given the circumstances, there was really only one way to do it.

"Can you handle a little bit more pain?" You met Gavi's wide eyes, and he gave your hand a rough squeeze and nodded gently, trying not to move his head too much. You went to pull your hand from his and were met with resistance. He wasn't able to let go.

"Nicolas, gloves on and hand me the stapler."

He handed you the machine and you instructed him on how to place his hands, closing up the flesh and overlapping the skin. You lined up the gun and repressed the urge to close your eyes. You placed four quick staples in his ear, closing the cartilage in a quick way, heart aching at the sounds he made when each one pierced his skin. You cleaned out the blood one last time, and helped him rise to his feet, met with the cheers of 80,000 culers.

"Come on - you need to be seen by Dr. G on the side before you can continue playing. Make sure they didn't crack your skull."

As you ushered him to the sidelines, the penalty review completed and granted to the blaugrana. Dr. G looked over your work, nodding to Gavi that he could go back onto the field.

"Good work, doctora. He will need reinforced stitches after the match concludes, but you're more than capable."

"Of course, sir."

The boys were all aggregated around the penalty box, clapping Gavi on the shoulder as he returned. Lewy raised an eyebrow in his direction, and Gavi gave him a thumbs up in response.

"Don't worry about me - worry about scoring." He called, falling into place beside Pedri and Joao. His Canarian friend placed an arm around his shoulder, bringing him in silently. It was a nasty hit, one of the worst in a long time, and seeing the blood stop dripping onto Gavi's jersey allowed him to finally breathe more easily.

"You okay?" Joao finally asked, eyes still trained on the preparation for the penalty attempt.

"I can still hear, so I guess I'm fine." Gavi replied, arms crossed over his chest but tone remaining light.

"Scars are sexy anyways." Pedri added, sending Gavi a suggestive look.

"Yeah, Van Gogh didn't get any bitches until that ear was gone." Joao's comment caught the Spanish boys off guard, causing them both to double over in laughter. Gavi gave him a playful elbow to the side as Pedri praised is comedy, and from the sidelines your relaxed slightly, watching your Pablo bond with his teammates. The penalty was brilliant and efficient, and after 15 minutes of you clenching Nicolas' arm and watching for a sprouting of red to emerge on Pablo's head, the final whistle sounded, and the boys approached the crowd to celebrate a hard-earned victory.

The players all shuffled into the tunnel, and Gavi quickly found you, walking with you off the field and placing a hand on the small of your back.

"I'm sorry, mi Doctora - I got blood on my kit." He said softly as the two of you walked through the tunnels, and you couldn't stop yourself from throwing both arms around him and kissing his soft pout. As you moved your arms away, you noticed the red droplets littering the light material of your staff uniform.

"It's okay, mi Pablito, looks like I did too. I can do you stitches at home, but blood is a biohazard, so we need to put this with the medical laundry before we leave."

The two of you walked to the locker room, walking into a closed area just behind that was used for medical exams.

"Can you turn around?" You asked, and he raised an eyebrow at you.

"What haven't I seen before?" He asked cheekily, and you rolled your eyes as you pushed his shoulders to make him face the wall. He peeled off his own stained shirt, toeing off his boots and rolling his socks down to relieve the pressure on his calves.

"Can I turn around now?" He asked almost mockingly, and after your agreement, he turned to face you, but meeting your back instead. It took him a moment to understand what was going on, opening his mouth to ask what was going on, but his eyes focused and the words died on his tongue. In bright white text, the saw his name curved around your shoulder blades, his number sitting perfectly in the dip of your back.

"You... my shirt?" He couldn't bring himself to articulate his question more clearly. You knew what he meant, looking over your shoulder, and Pablo was absolutely certain his brain was going to short circuit. It was like there was a halo of light surrounding you, your soft eyes behind beautiful fluttering lashes. Pink lips peaked from above your shoulder, your hair gathered to keep your back exposed. You were wearing his name. You were at work wearing his name, about to walk outside and proudly show off that you were Gavi's. And despite him saying it repeatedly, that was the moment it really clicked in his head. He had you. We were his.

And while he was lifting you up to kiss him, hands harsh on the soft fabric inscribed with his name, people were a step behind, speculating about you being Gavi's as well.

@88rizzing: ok i finally beat @/gaviraconcubine to it - look at these videos from gavis injury. is he holding the girl doctors hand??

412 likes 8 retweets 17 replies

@bigbootybarca: ???? does it just hurt that bad or are they f*******

@alanaTV: yall he's literally getting his ear STAPLED let the man hold onto something

@marcusrashfussy: isnt this the one who ppl posted after the bdor? like the one who hugged gavi?

@gaviraconcubine: ok u got me w that one @/88rizzing but have you seen them walking into the tunnel with gavi on her waist???

881 likes 37 retweets 262 replies

@88rizzing: are you fucking kidding me

@v1scab4rca: AYO??? GUYS ITS PABLO GAVIRIZZ

@4rmy-gyal-4: the bath is ready someone hand me the toaster

@arabianmadridi: at least hes not with the zionest god bless

@loonastansbrazil: @/88rizzing @/gaviraconcubine i got both of yall. i got this pic of them walking out of the stadium.

9,907 likes 424 retweets 1455 replies

The photo was one of the worst quality things on twitter. It was blurry and crooked and extremely zoomed in, but there was no doubt about the subject. Gavi was in his training shirt and his grass stained shorts, socks rolled down to his ankles and Nike slides taking the place of his usual dripped out sneakers. His head was turned to the left, his entire side profile visible. The smile that spread across his face was blinding even in the photo's limited pictures, and his fingers were threaded between those of another person. Your face was turned towards Gavi as well, distorted by your hair on your shoulder. But your back, turned squarely to the camera, was clear as Day with the large '6' contrasting the stripes. The internet was going wild at the thought that he young football star had bagged his doctor.

"Not to be the bearer of bad news, mi doctora," Pablo started, laying on your couch with his head on the pillow, injured ear in the air, "but Twitter found out that you're obsessed with me."

Your laugh was faint but audible, and your footsteps coming swiftly down Gavi's staircase. The sutures and other medications were in your hand, and you moved to sit on the couch, laying the pillow and Pablo's head across your lap.

"Well, took them long enough. I've been publicly thirsting over you forever now." You picked up your gloves and tweezers, about to begin the painstaking process of pulling out the staples so that you could drain his ear.

"Can I grab something before you start?" He said, and you paused midair. "Alright, but quickly. I don't want the numbing cream to wear off. I'm tired of you crying on the pillows."

"That was only one time!" He yelled over his shoulder, running up to his bedroom despite your please for him to not run in socks on the tile. He came back downstairs with a large book and a paper bag from the supermarket. He laid back down on your lap, snuggling his cheek into the pillow.

"Okay, I'm ready. Rip my ear open."

You pulled the first staple and watched for his reactions. of which there were very few. You took this as a sign to continue. As you pulled out the second staple, struggling not to tear his skin because it was wedged under the third, you asked.

"When did you start reading, Pablo?"

"Don't worry, it's a picture book." He giggled slightly and cracked open the book. On the first page, sprawled in boyish handwriting and black sharpie, was the title: My Precious Moments.

"What is this?"

"Keep working, mi doctora. I'll read it to you."

He hissed slightly as you pulled out the final staple, and you began the process of cleaning. He turned the first page, and you let out a laugh that surprised even yourself. The first page was your official school photo that Gavi had printed out, your wide smile and white coat looking crisp. He had surrounded your picture with red hearts, a thousand of them all over the page.

"This is Doctora y/n y/l/n," Pablo began reading, and you gently moved the iodine across his skin. "But we never call her that. We call her Mi doctora. She's the most wonderful beautiful sexy fantastic amazing girl, and she's dating you, her Pablito."

He turned the page as you threaded the nylon thread into the needle to begin closing him up. The next page was a collage of newspaper and magazine clippings of Gavi's best moments.

"This is you, footballer Pablo Gavi. Handsome, talented, and always a winner."

"You forgot humble, mi amor." You said with a smirk.

"Oh, you're right. I'll have to add that in later."

He flipped the page once again, and it was a copy of the photo you gave him for Christmas. Around it were several post it notes taped to the pages. They all said various things in Pablo's signature handwriting: 'doctora number - DO NOT LOSE!', 'see girl dr tmr morning for leg stuff', 'doctora coffee order', etc.

"This is you and doctora before she liked you. We definitely already liked her, but we're kind of stubborn."

"What are those? You asked while never taking your eyes off of them.

"They're all the notes I have about you. The ones that I kept around so I wouldn't forget."

You tried to keep the tears out of your eyes, needing one more stitch to be done with Pablo's ear. He turned the page again, and it was a collection of photos of the two of you from the Supercopa, with you and Gavi both holding onto the trophy.

"This is after doctora broke up with her crusty boyfriend. look at how happy everyone is!"

You laughed once again, having to put down the needle and just let out the joy, allowing it to take over your entire body. You picked up the stapler again, placing four quick staples in his ear as he flipped the page again. You pressed onto the newly patched ear, applying gentle pressure. The pages were filled with printed out photos: the sunset over the sea, a bush of bright pink flowers, a fluffy dog smiling widely. An array of beautiful, ordinary things.

"These are all the things we took pictures of while thinking about the doctora. The sun, the moon, bracelets on street stalls, dogs at the park, butterflies on the football field. All the beautiful things that you wanted to capture and give to her. You just didn't know why, yet."

You tapped his shoulder, indicating that he could sit up. He rested his back across the couch, lifting one arm to invite you to lay against his chest. Nuzzling into his side, your head rested against the dip connecting his shoulder to his collar. The next page was from the end of the league, all the stupid selfies the two of you had taken with the La Liga trophy.

"This is when doctora decided to stay in the club. We're so lucky that she decide to do that, because it gave us the time to grow some balls and confess to her. And also, your first La Liga win (in general and with this hottie)."

You kissed Pablo's cheek, whispering how amazing he was against his skin.

"Hold on, I'm about to get more amazing." He said, turning the page. It was only two pictures. The first was a picture of him on stage holding his Kopa trophy, smiling brightly at the crowd. The second was the one Pedri had took while you two were preoccupied with your first "I never want to let you go" kiss. The two of you were wrapped around each other, lips locked, and Pablo's trophy sitting in the bottom of the frame.

"This is the day that we finally became a man. You got a cute award, and you got the love of your life. And we better not be sitting over this and reading it because we fumbled her. Break your face before you fumble Doctora. She'll fix it for you."

The tears were flowing freely now, and you hugged closer against Gavi. You had never been treated so specially by anyone in your life. And here was Pablito, so busy and occupied with being a world class footballer taking the time to make a scrap book of you. He turned the page one more time, and it was a collection of selfies that you had taken with him at home, all cut into hearts and stick on haphazardly. But to you it was the most stunning sight in the world.

"And here you two are. In your favorite place in the world (at home on the couch) with your favorite person. In love in a way that would have made you nauseous last year. So here is a place for you to keep all the precious moments of the two of you, so that you can never forget how far you have come."

He placed the book in your hands, and moved to get up, grabbing the bag he brought down earlier. Your tear-stained cheeks were rosy, and you couldn't even begin to articulate how you felt. He sat back down, pulling you into his lap and cuddling you in his arms. His head was resting against your shoulder, peppering soft kisses to your neck.

"I know it's a little obvious now, mi doctora, but I love pictures. I don't think I ever realized how much pictures meant to me until you gave me one. But when I look at you, I wish I could photograph you every second and then play back every moment. I wish that we could be frozen in these moments, happy and feeling like there was nothing in the world besides each other. But then I realized that no matter the moment, that's how I feel. Every time I'm with you, I feel invincible. I feel like I'm at the happiest I will ever be. And it's all because of you. You are what I want beside me, forever."

He placed the supermarket bag in your hands. You reached in, pulling out a pale blue jewelry box. Your eyes widened, and you swiveled around to face your love.

"Pablo... is this... I look terrible."

"Don't worry, mi amor. It's not a ring. Not yet anyways. We can't get married while you're still in school, cause I don't want our wedding to overshadow your graduation."

"You've thought about a wedding? Our wedding?"

"Of course." He placed a long kiss to the side of your neck. "I've thought about our wedding since before we got together. We're going to get married in the summer, of course. So that we can be tan and gorgeous - not that you're not always gorgeous, but you'll just glow against the white. Like an angel. Or a princess. Or both. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but in my little fantasies before I go to sleep, you're in this long white dress, like something from Disney. And then it would be between seasons, so I can take you on a proper looong honeymoon. Four weeks in a private beach where you pack only bikinis and lingerie. Now come on open it - I got this weeks ago when we were in Madrid and you had to stay for an exam."

You opened the box slowly, not knowing what to hope for exactly. In front of you was a traditional Spanish necklace, almost resembling a rosary. It was silver and pearls chained together, ending in large silver heart with filigree etched into the metal. The lines formed into a cursive 'P' in the center.

"P for Pablo?" You asked with sniffles and tears.

"Yes of course. But that's not even the best part." He whispered, hands coming up to join yours. He grasped the heart and pulled until you heard a faint click, and it was only then that you noticed the hinges. It was a locket. You gently separated the halves, and staring back at you was a black and white photo. It was of you and Pablo, one night when you were laying on his couch like the two of you somehow always did. You were trying to fix yourself in your camera, and Pablo pulled your chin down to kiss you, and you hand snapped a picture. For a few weeks, it was his lock screen, and you had to admit you were disappointed when he changed it to a different photo. But now, seeing it here, feeling the gentle touch of his fingers against your skin as he placed the necklace on you, you had never felt more loved or in love.

"I love you, Pablo. I love being with you. I love being yours."

Those were the only words that felt appropriate at the moment.

"I love you more, mi doctora. I feel like I'm going to love you forever. And that thought used to terrify me. But now, it's something for me to look forward to. Waking up every day to love you."

He reached back into the back, pulling out a small suede pouch in the same light blue. He placed it in your hands as well.

"You're spoiling me now Pablo."

"That's my job."

Pulling the strings, you opened the pouch, reaching in and feeling metal. You pulled on the chain and it slowly rose, ending in a silver key. It was also engraved with the words 'el hogar' on the side.

"I know that we talked about you moving in, but I never want to make you uncomfortable. So for right now, this is just a necklace with a key as the charm." He hooked it around your neck, and it sat beautifully above your pearls. "And when you want, you can use it as a key to your boyfriend's house, for whatever you want really." He turned you to face him, pressing his lips right between your collar bones. "And when you feel like you're ready, it can be a key to our house."

"Our house. I like the sound of that."

His smile was infectious. "So do I."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N:

And there it is!! Just Pretend, signed sealed and delivered for your pleasure! I am really happy with how this came out tbh, and hope you all enjoy. I have exams and school for the next two weeks so I might be MIA from writing, but I should be back soon. Please if you feel so inclined leave a comment, a reblog, or a message in my ask box about your thoughts/ feelings, and see y'all soon!

*~*Taglist*~*

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