#this can't be how everyone else is experiencing life. surely
Text
Love the fact that I find people who aren't cruel about mental issues people tend to be cruel about and then I befriend them but instead they just so happen to be cruel about all the ones I have and they JUST SO HAPPEN to only show it after we're friends. I'm so done.
#red rants#can't I just meet ONE PERSON who is normal both about narcissists and people with anxiety.#literally. i meet someone cool about people with personality disorders and I'm like fuck yeah! finally a sensible person#and then they start spouting about how people wih anxiety have to get over themselves#and how people pleasers are so annoying and hurt everyone else around them all the time.#like. wow. way to be a hypocrite.#“do it scared” “do it alone” FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU#haven't you ever experienced fear so intense you were practically frozen by it? that's everything. all the time for me.#no i cannot just “do it scared”#“do it alone” I've been handheld for so long in my life that being alone scares me half to death and I'm extremely dependent on others#but thanks whatever. that'll surely fix me.#“it's so insulting when someone copies me” I don't have a personality outside of other people cause I'm so dependent on others#so I'm always copying people cause I literally can't be anything otherwise. but thanks for implying I'm a bastard that#crosses your boundaries just by existing#how nice to know I'm nothing but a nuisance in so many people's eyes#literally thinking about unfollowing so many people just cause this shit triggers me so fucking bad and they won't stop posting about it
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dan Heng NSFW Alphabet
Synopsis: let's take a peek on how your lover is in bed, shall we?
Character: dan heng.
Warnings: afab!reader; reader is part of the astral express but isn't the trailblazer; spoilers about dan heng's past and his companion mission.
A/N: in celebration for dan heng imbibitor lunae release (finally!!), i give you all this! may our dragon boyfie come home to all who wants him <3
(p.s. that mf made me lose the 50/50 💀 his light cone better come home 😭.)
(edit: IT WORKED HIS LIGHT CONE CAME ON THE 31 😭😭😭😭)
This work has sexual themes and is not suitable for minors. If you click on read more, I am not responsable for any discomfort you may feel reading this. You have been warned.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Dan Heng's nickname in Belobog's fight club may be "Cold Dragon Young", but he's anything but cold to you especially after sex.
After your sexual lives began, Dan Heng made sure to always have a box of tissues, a towel and a bottle of water at hand's reach.
He prefers to do the deed in your room instead of his since, you know, it's the Express databank...
Therefore, those things are usually inside a drawer of your nightstand for easier access to the both of you.
Also cuddling is a must for him.
On days Dan Heng is feeling particularly clingy, he will wrap his arms AND tail around you, not minding the feeling of your sweaty and sticky bodies.
But don't worry, he will take you to the bathroom to clean you and him in the shower/bath, before returning to bed.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
If someone had asked him that before he got together with you, he wouldn't know what to answer.
Now, however, he'd answer his hands.
Curiously enough, you've always been fascinated by Dan Heng's hands.
You loved holding it, playing with his fingers, saying they were so soft, even softer than your own!
You also loved dragging him to the sleepovers in March's room, which you would paint your boyfriend's nails while March would do the Trailblazer's.
Now, about his favorite body part of yours, it's an easy answer: your neck.
It goes hand in hand with his kink (or rather, instinct) of marking you.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He cums an embarrassing (to him) amount.
Although the Vidyadhara can't have offsprings, they still are a dragon species and, considering Dan Heng has a much closer conection to the water dragon he controls, his instincts are stronger than others of his kin.
Yes, this is just a roundabout way to say he has a breeding kink
It's usually thick and gooey, but when he's in heat, it becomes more watery.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
When you joined the Astral Express, you were sure Dan Heng disliked you.
Although he was never outright rude to you during the (very few) interactions you two had in the beggining, he would never be in the same room as you.
Himeko assured you that the young man was just shy, but even she was at a loss at that unusual behavior of his.
Dan Heng was avoiding you, yes, but it wasn't because he hated your guts or anything.
It was because your scent was driving him crazy.
The second he landed his eyes on you, your scent invaded his system and every single fiber of his being was being pulled to you.
But he couldn't, he shouldn't. There was too much danger in his life.
But by the Aeons... He had to do something, or else he might lose his mind.
So, when everyone in the train was asleep, Dan Heng would let his thoughts be consumed by you and guide his hand to his shaft...
He would rather go through molting rebirth again than admit he did such debauchery to you.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
My guy has been in the Shackling Prison ever since he was born and after being banished from the Luofu, he had to keep looking over his shoulder for a psycho who's out for his blood.
It's suffice to say that Dan Heng doesn't have any experience in relationships or sex.
Please have patience with him, he will fumble but he really wants to make you feel good :(
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
I believe Dan Heng would prefer positions which he can see your face, be it directly or through a mirror's reflection.
What he must have, however, is access to your neck, his favorite body part of yours as mentioned on B.
So, if you do positions like cowgirl/reverse cowgirl, you can expect to have a restless (dragon) lover under you, squirming for wanting to have you closer in order to mark your pretty skin.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He's definitely not one to be funny in bed... intentionally, that is.
Have you seen him throwing peace signs when the Silvermane Guards were pursuing the trio in Jarilo-VI?
Or him doing that when March took a photo of him next to the High Elder statue on that short animation?
Or even the things he says with the most poker face ever?
Anyway, what I mean to say is that Dan Heng is funny without trying to and that (unfortunately to him) sometimes happen in bed.
He will huff while you're giggling with yourself, before bringing you back to the right mood with a searing kiss.
What were you laughing at again? I don't know, maybe you should focus on those hypnotizing eyes darkened with lust staring down at you.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
As said on E, Dan Heng doesn't have much experience in relationships, therefore never really worried that much about pubic hair.
After joining the Express and having a safe place to be, he would groom himself and trim a bit just so it wasn't too much or too long.
Now that he's with you, he likes to keep his bush small and very well groomed, so it won't bother your nose when you suck him off.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
His draconic instincts aside, Dan Heng really, really, REALLY enjoys keeping you in his arms.
99% of the time you guys "make love" instead of fucking.
This is the first time in his life (as Dan Heng) that he feels utterly safe and conected with someone in so many different aspects.
When he says "I love you" during the deed, it comes from the deepest, most precious part of his heart.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Honestly, he used to masturbate more before you two got together.
Again, he will never tell you that or, at least, not any time soon...
Now? It's rare for him to do it.
If he's in the mood, usually you are as well.
Sure, mutual masturbation is hot and all, but he'd much rather be inside your warm and inviting pussy.
The only time he'll jack off is when you are away from each other in trailblazing missions.
You know Dan Heng will try to hold off touching himself until he can go back to the Express, but he becomes soooo snappy and with a permanent frown on his face.
So, please, send him some photos of you or audios to break his resolve and make him relax a little until he returns to your side.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
As mentioned in the very begginning of the list, I am 100% sure Dan Heng has a breeding kink, even if he can't procreate.
It's such a filthy sight, your hole fluttering after he pulls out, your mixed fluids leaking from it... A voice, primal, in the back of his mind telling him he should push it back inside or, even better, stuff you with his cum once again...
He can't get enough of it.
Also, you won't leave the bed without at least a dozen marks on your skin.
Bites, hickeys, marks of his fingers for gripping you too tightly... You'll see all of that and more on the morning after.
Your boyfriend is considerate enough to not leave them on places you can't hide with your clother or make up.
...Unless you made him jealous on purpose or has been teasing him throughout the day.
I guess scent kink is also a thing for him.
You almost make him delirious with lust when you're on your ovulating period.
Praise your guy to your heart's content, it works wonders when you want Dan Heng to let loose and fuck your brains.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
No matter how horny he is, Dan Heng will only touch you on the privacy of the bedroom.
Preferably yours since he doesn't really have a bed on the Data Bank Archieves.
Which is fine, considering he basically moved to your room.
The reason for that is the comfort and sense of security the private space gives him.
He doesn't have to be on alert for any kind of danger and can give you his undivided attention.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Call him corny, but it's when you show him you love him.
For most of his life, he has been followed by the shadow of Dan Feng and his deeds, both good and bad.
Even after Jing Yuan revoked his banishment from the Luofu, there are still many people, especially the Vidyadhara, who look at him with contempt.
Not to mention Blade hunting him through the universe to make him pay the price for his Dan Feng's sins.
So, when you cup his cheeks, stare at his eyes so softly and tell him you love him for who he is, not the shadow of his precious reincarnation...
His heart can't barely handle all the feelings that well up inside.
Dan Heng tries his best to show you how he feels by the breathtaking kisses and relentless pace of his hips snapping with yours, with chants of your name like a devotee does to their beloved deity.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
If you enjoy feeling a bit of pain in bed, I'm sorry to tell you, but Dan Heng refuses to do anything that may cause even the tiniest bit of pain to you...
Okay, it's not like he'll NEVER do it if you do enjoy it, but it'll take a lot of coaxing and reassurance.
His worst nightmare is to hurt you in any shape or form.
One thing that he will not do, no matter what, is share you.
So no threesome with Blade, sorry.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
I see Dan Heng as the giver type, to be honest.
Not that he dislikes you sucking him off, far from it!
He just adores being nestled between your thighs, your drooling cunt on his mouth...
And if you convince him to eat you out on his Imbibitor Lunae form? It's a sure way to send you to heaven.
Grab his horns like your lifeline, it will make him moan into your folds and grind his cock onto the bed.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
On normal days, the pace is slow but deep.
No matter how much you ask, beg, demand for your lover to go faster, he won't and it drives you crazy (in a good way).
He's addicted to the way your core tightens around his member like a vice when you're so close to the edge.
Only then he will concede to your wishes, so you can cum together.
When he's in heat? Good luck walking tomorrow soldier 🫡
Each of his thrusts are so deep, so fast, so hard, but never deep enough, never fast enough, never hard enough to satisfy his desires.
I hope your bed is strong enough to survive the whole night.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Doesn't like it.
To Dan Heng, being physically intimate with you requires a process, a moment when the two of you tune out the world and just focus on each other.
Like I said on P, he likes to take his time with you, to really feel every single inch of you.
Sure, there are times when both of you are too horny to wait until you are in the comfort of your bedroom and there's too little time to spare.
Even so, quickies don't satisfy him completely.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Another thing that he doesn't enjoy it.
Dan Heng is a bit self conscious about the thought of other people hearing or, Aeons forbid, see you two doing it.
A spoiler for the V part, but this guy isn't exactly quiet during the fun 🤫
That's one of the reasons why doing it on a public or semi-public place is a no for him.
Using a vibrator though, especially on him, now that's something that may happen.
Again, it'll take some coaxing from you, but there's a bigger chance of him agreeing in the end.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Even when Dan Heng is in his human form, his stamina is above average.
When he's in heat? Again, good luck walking tomorrow.
If it was up to his draconic desires, he would go all night without a break.
Fortunately for you, he can hold on to his senses enough to remember that you would not survive if that happened.
You'd die happy, but he doesn't want to lose you.
On the morning after, you two are "gently" reminded by Himeko and Welt that there are other passengers on the Express and everyone would very much like to sleep in peace ✨
Poor March had to sleep over with the Trailblazer in their room, which was the furthest from yours.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Our boy knows what a dildo and a vibrator are on theory, never tried them himself.
You'll have to be the one to introduce them in the relationship, if you want to.
I see Dan Heng as a switch, leaning to the sub side tbh.
With that in mind, I believe the toys are used more frequently on him than on you.
His favorite is those vibrators that can be controlled by a phone app, it's discreet and you can keep your partner on their toes.
His collection isn't big, maybe he owns two or three at max.
His first sex toy was one of those male masturbators, a gift from you.
Poor guy was so confused on what the hell that thing was (totally understandable, some of those look like a blender???).
Needless to say that his face turned red in no time after your explanation.
It doesn't come close to your hands and mouth, but it does a good job when you two can't be together for whatever reason.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
If there is someone who loves to tease to hell and back, it's you.
You can't help it! Dan Heng looks sooooo adorable, trying his hardest to keep a straight face while a pink tint warms his cheeks.
Your teasing can go two ways: you may have him whimpering and begging for more under you OR he will retaliate and have you whimpering and begging for forgiveness under him.
In any case, you see it as a win in your book ✨
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
*Me, speaking into the mic.* Dan Heng is a whimperer and whinier.
*The crowd boos and I leave with my head down.*
She's right! *There is a yell coming from the back.*
*It's you, with Dan Heng dying from embarrasment next to you.*
Jokes aside, I do believe our Cold Dragon Young isn't loud per se, but a whimperer for sure.
He's embarrassed by that, so he does all he can to keep his sounds at bay.
When he's in Hot Dragon Young mode, he'll do a 180°.
Embarrassed? Shy? Quiet? Not Vidyadhara Dan Heng.
He growls, he moans, he curses, he straight up purrs the more he pounds and bullies your pussy with his cock(s).
Yes, he has two, it's a consensus between writers and artists.
Please gift everyone in the Astral Express ear buds, they will need them.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Despite having a breeding kink, of course Dan Heng is aware his species isn't fertile.
He knows there are no chances of him creating a new life by the conventional means of procreation.
And yet... Watching you interact with Hook and the other children of Belobog... Watching you hold Bailu in your arms...
He can't help but daydream of the 'what ifs' and 'would be'.
If he could, he wonders what would your child be like?
Would they look more like you? Or him?
Would they have similar personality to you or him? Perhaps a mix of both?
Would they inherit his draconic features?
...Would they have a long life span like him?
...Would they still be by his side, after your passing..?
...Will he even be able to handle to live a life without you once again...?
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
I am terrible at describing things, let alone dicks of fictional characters, so bear with me OTL
Okay, so, it's been established that Dan Heng has two cocks. Good? Good.
I like to think that they also change when he turns into his original appearance.
Human Dan Heng: only one dick, but still has a bit more length than average, on the thiner spectrum, slightly curved upward
Imbibitor Lunae Dan Heng: two dicks, a growth in girth to leave you full but not stuffed, the veins are more proeminent.
How does one describe a pretty dick? Idk, but it's the first thing that comes to mind when you see it.
He's a pretty guy after all.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
I know I've talking about his heat period like a broken record, but that's because watching aloof characters becoming crazy with lust makes me absolutely feral 🥴
But honestly? Among all the Honkai Star Rail men, I see Dan Heng with the lowest sex drive.
Not that he isn't interested in you physically, far from it! He adores your body and when you show it off to tease him, it's always very effective.
It's just that I see he has bigger emotional needs than sexual needs in the daily life.
Lover boy can go two, three days without having sex with you just fine.
It depends more on how is your sex drive.
If you ask him, he'll gladly go down on you whenever you wish.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Dan Heng will only fall asleep after you do.
It comes from a desire to protect you from anything and everything.
He won't allow himself to completely rest until you are fully comfortable and in deep sleep.
Only then, he will kiss you on the forehead and bring you into his arms, giving you a sense of security you won't be able to find anywhere else in the whole universe.
#blue.writes: honkai star rail#blue.writes: dan heng#blue.writes: smut#honkai star rail x reader#dan heng x reader#dan heng smut#honkai star rail smut#minors dni#not suitable for minors
623 notes
·
View notes
Text
struck by the idea where, For Reasons, plan saddest desert hermit doesn't get off the ground and team proto-rebellion have to pivot and pivot fast.
chucking the conspiracy equivalent of a uey at 100mph on the highway, and everyone involved is sleep deprived, stressed as fuck, and experiencing y'know, several levels of Devastating Grief.
the person with the brain cell is bail organa, a man who in canon spends like 20 fucking years playing ding dong ditch with a genocidal psychic space wizard and his boss, an even more genocidal space wizard. This man is not lacking in gumption, one can say. he is possessed of life threatening amounts of chutzpah, one might also say, except that he spends twenty years winning the ding dong ditch match with, again, a genocidal fascist dictatorship which includes two genocidal psychic space wizards who literally know he was in tight with the genocided group of space wizards plus the [mumble] number of other murderous genocidal space wizards, plus the rest of the non-space wizard space fascist cohort.
So. What does a man with a spine of steel, a heart as big as a planet, and more gumption than anyone should possess do, when plan 'split up the kids and hide the most famous man in the galaxy on the saddest hell planet' is a no go?
lie. lie like a fucking rug.
What's palpatine going to do? day one of the empire, his super awesome chosen one space wizard makeover project is still in progress and not yet wheezing his way into the galaxy's nightmares, and bail fucking organa strolls into the imperial senate with:
one (1) baby (female)
one (1) baby (male)
several (~20+) aides and various hangers on, including;
one (1) brown haired blue eyed man who could, if you squinted a bit, probably get third place in a general kenobi lookalike competition, were those now not super duper illegal
Sidious, of course, could be like A JEDI KILL HIM TRAITOR ETC, but, crucially, his wheezing attack dog is still on the lab table getting seven inches added to his height and cup holders installed, or whatever the fuck skeevy sheev added in as extras. Palpatine is an old guy who is still trading on being A Beloved Grandfather who was Reluctant To Take The Throne, and is still easing the galaxy into the whole, y'know, we're a fascist empire now, kneel or perish.
Palpatine, on day one of the empire, can't point at bail fucking organa and be like HABOURING A TRAITOR unless he is really, really sure, like 110% sure, because it's bail fucking organa and every goddamn senator will baulk like a horse at a plastic bag if he accuses, again, the senator of alderaan of high treason on day one of the empire.
A secret rebellion is fine, if not ideal; you can theoretically stamp it out, and, also, it's small, percentage wise.
The entire fucking galaxy thinking that, hey, if the guy in charge is going to go after fucking alderaan, what's to stop him going after us? bigger problem. huge problem. original trilogy kinda touched on that one. Day one of the empire, everyone is still basically on war footing, and fuck man, if alderaan is copping it....maybe this empire isn't great after all. maybe we can make our OWN empire, with a different emperor.
Would palps win? eh maybe. would it destroy all credibility forever and ever amen? yeah. the difference between a 'legally installed emperor' and 'a dictator we must overthrow' is how willing the galaxy is to lick boot, and there's not yet the fear of The Empire black bagging you to keep those tongues going.
so. palpatine can't say shit. palpatine can imply shit, palpatine can get his lackies to say shit. but, crucially, palpatine himself can't say fuck all about the goddamn kenobi lookalike that is now following after organa and wiping his kid's little butts and playing gofer and whatever else.
and what's more believable? bail fucking organa is hiding a traitor, or bail organa and his wife have a situationship with a guy who looks sort of a bit like a former general? the same kind of situationship that like, half the senate has had at one point or another with a guy (or guys) who looked sort of a bit like said ex-general. go to any high level business and/or political building, you'll find half a dozen guys who look vaguely like said hot ex-general, and many of them will have a more or less (often less) accurate coruscanti-ish accent. or will develop one.
(hey, it's a niche. gotta pay the bills somehow, and if you get the job because you dyed your hair and grew a beard, well, you're still using your political science degree, right?)
of course, that only holds for so long, but by that point it's been, y'know, a while. and that looks worse in a different way -- what, kenobi was fucking walking around in front of the whole imperial senate, and none of them noticed? absolutely not, all credibility is gone forever.
which means. that palpatine and the organas are stuck in a full on staring match about this guy who is 100% for sure not kenobi, because -- well. he can't be kenobi. becuase that would look bad. but also. it's kenobi. but also. it can't be kenobi.
(vader takes one look at this guy who looks like his master kenobi and then rolls his eyes, because he has already met aproximately 90,000 people who look vaugely like his master and he got very good at picking out how the newest one was not kenobi his master by the time he was a senior padawan.)
#bail organa#star wars#bailbrehaobi#like. implied#sort of.#star wars crack#coats originals#the plot here is not thought out. if you are like BUT THIS WOULDN'T WORK sssshhh it's for the bit#the bit of bail organa making skeevy sheevy's life miserable#bail like what're you gonna do. arrest me? for having a kenobi fetish? you gonna arrest half the galaxy too?
906 notes
·
View notes
Text
Possibly a hot take, but I think the Tartarus trip actually helped Will a lot. Obviously I have my disappointments with the book, but we do not only see Nico healing from the copious amount of trauma Rick fit into him; we get to see Will come to terms with darker parts of himself.
It's canon/very heavily implied (I can't remember and don't feel like looking it up) he came to camp at a very young age, younger than campers that aren't deemed "powerful" or have a strong scent. Despite Will thinking he isn't strong, he is the best healer Camp Half Blood has seen in, what we can assume, at least a century. He's a year-rounder, so he hasn't experienced life on the outside in years. Hell, until Trials of Apollo, his godly parent hardly took notice of him.
His older brothers and other siblings were his biggest supporters and motivators. They looked out for him and took care of him in place of a parent, specifically the older kids (Lee and Michael.) And he lost them during the Dark Prophecy - less than 2 years apart from each other. He didn't even get to search for Michael because Percy took him for a joyride across Manhattan on a motorcycle to help Annabeth.
Even after all of that, its implied/seen that he's someone who is always looking on the bright side of things, never making anything about himself, always helping others, etc. He's a ray of sunshine in everyone's life, never allowing himself to show anyone that he's hurting or suffering because he feels like he just can't. After all, he's Will Solace. He is the head medic, the infirmary can't just stop running. He's the counselor for cabin, his siblings need him to be strong.
He represses his negative emotions, even admits to it in Trials of Apollo. I think he represses them to a point he can avoid/ignore them or pretend they aren't his. It's easier to be a ray of sunshine in people's lives if the negativity and darkness you feel are projected onto someone else.
These tendencies are also something that causes strain in Nico and Will's relationship, because Nico doesn't understand how Will can't see how hypocritical he is. When in reality, Will does know, but it's easier if he avoids it. Ignorance is bliss after all. This doesn't mean Will doesn't work on trying to let Nico in, because he does, sort of.
On bad days, the days when he wakes up and wants nothing more than to curl up in the arms of his older brothers, he would go to Nico's cabin. However, his only explanation would ever be, "im tired." It frustrated him just as much as it upset Nico. He wasn't even sure if his boyfriend could tell. (Nico could, but that didn't mean it hurt any less.)
In Persephone's garden, he was forced to face the fact that there is darkness/negativity/hurt inside of him. He can't deny it when it's right in front of him, so he finally has to stop repressing everything, stop running away, and face his pains.
#tbh i cant tell when this went from character study opinion to headcanons#i just start typing and words show up#im proud of this though#will solace#nico di angelo#solangelo#pjo#percy jackon and the olympians#the sun and the star#heroes of olympus#persephone#trials of apollo#michael yew#lee fletcher#apollo cabin#percy jackson#annabeth chase
295 notes
·
View notes
Text
01/15/2024 Crew Recap
Hey all, today has been a very very very long day. I’m typing this with my eyeballs glazed over and half open. However, so much has happened in such a little amount of time I wanted share a few things before I pass out I know a lot of you are in different timezones, are busy with life, and taking a break, so maybe this will help with parsing through some of the crazy stuff the crew has been up to.
The petition hit 50K, and is at 52.5K at the moment
Fundraisers: I didn’t even realize there were two different fundraisers for Palestine/Gaza going on but we blew both out of the water. (Note: the second picture is from a November campaign but I think its just as important to highlight— ty for the correction anon!)
The Emmys hashtag turn out was great tonight. There was some pretty amazing and creative stuff going on across all the platforms. Some can be seen on IG, but if you wanna see the majority of it, check out twitter #SaveOFMD #75thEmmys
---We have new ways of protesting and advocating for our show, see here for the thread on tumblr (from twitter):---
And to support that @saltpepperbeard was kind enough to put together a wonderful guide on how to Call It Through as a Crew: Alleviating Some Phone Anxiety which as someone who is socially anxious and sometimes verbally vomits on people when on the phone, is AMAZING and thank you so much for doing that to help.
-- > There is also this new thread on some new places to call into. Don't quote me on that being an official thing we should do, I'm sure @renewasacrew and others will have more in the AM, I just wanted to share it so people could follow if they wanted to.
------------------
New Articles!
Our Flag Means Death: Here’s why season three deserves to be aired
Petition to save BBC show with rare Rotten Tomatoes score gets 50,000 signatures
------------------
There's so much more that's happened today-- but I can't write it all down because my brain is couscous.
<---So instead, I'm going to use this last part to gush over you all and your amazing contributions in all your unique ways. The community support the last few days has been SO INCREDIBLY UPLIFTING.-->
I saw (and experienced) people reblogging asks where random followers, anons, and mutuals just reached out and sent love because they could tell people were struggling.
I've seen comments all over the place on Tumblr, IG, Twitter, and Facebook where each and every person is encouraging each other to speak their mind, or complimenting their artwork, encouraging them if they were feeling uncomfortable with things outside their comfort zones, coming up with new and exciting ways to fight back, people reaching out to the cast/crew just to say hi and remind them we love them.
I've seen Self-Care checkpoints all over, reminding people to drink water, take a break, block your notifications for a while, not engaging in negative behavior.
I've seen people being so nice on instagram posts that the people who were being dicks about all our comments turned around and decided to watch OFMD!
I saw so many people doing new analysis of scenes and characters, and having really deep and friendly discussions that make everyone think in new ways.
I saw people digging through old tumblrs to bring life back to old posts and artwork.
I saw so much NEW artwork, new FICS! New GIFS! So much new art and love!
I could literally go on and on, but I've just...I had to dump this out of my brain otherwise I'd explode. I've just seen so much today that continues to make me so proud of our little safe space ship and so happy to be apart of this community.
You all continue to be the best of the best of humans, and I am so very grateful to get to witness and be apart of it. Rest up lovelies and have a good day / night, wherever you may be. May you dream of sexy middle-aged gay men kissing, or hugging, or whatever else you want them to be getting into.
#ofmd#our flag means death#stede bonnet#gentlebeard#edward teach#renew as a crew#rhys darby#blackbonnet#save our flag means death#save ofmd#ofmd s3#renew our flag means death#renew ofmd#ofmd daily recap
337 notes
·
View notes
Text
Afab!reader x Abby Anderson
CW: NSFW, Masturbation
/ / /
Can you imagine being Abby's first gay sexual awakening? She started dating Owen because she felt like 'she had to'. He was her best friend, a person she trusted and cared for, and everyone else their age was starting to get their first romances, experiencing their first kiss so it was only natural that she felt like she also had to do the same thing.
And Owen was always there for her, especially after her dad was murdered, he was kind and took care of her when she was left with no one, so when he kissed her, she kissed back, obligation eating her alive. It was engraved in her head that she owed him at least that even if she didn't get all these butterflies and excitement the other girls were talking about.
There were no sparks, no feeling your knees getting weak, no thinking about it all the time. At first, she truly believed that that's how romance was supposed to be experienced. Then her first time happened and she thought that maybe something was wrong with her. Not only she wasn't enjoying it, she couldn't wait for it to be over. Again and again. It was purely just for Owen, for always being there.
When they finally broke up, she felt guilty for feeling relieved because she truly loved him and cared for him. It just felt.. different. She didn't want to lose her best friend or for things to get awkward, and so she thought that it was what people call a 'heartbreak'. She couldn't understand, though, why not spending the nights with him felt like a cure to an everlasting sickness.
And then you came along. It felt like she was living in a dark room her whole life, and you just walked in with your soft skin, eyes radiating warmth and flipped the switch. Suddenly, she could see crystal clear what it was.
The butterflies abruptly made their appearance, and it was all because of you. At first, she wasn't sure if she liked this change. How her confidence came crumbling down whenever you two were patrolling together, turning her into a mass of nerves. How she could feel her cheeks fill with blood, fighting with all her being not to blush but failing whenever your skin brushed hers. How her core pulsed with anticipation whenever she could steal a look at your cleavage or bare legs whenever you put on a skirt.
Ultimately, she experienced the craving to touch herself alone at night when she was laying between the sheets, caressing her skin softly, dreaming it was your hand instead. Improper thoughts of you started clouding her mind, desire filling up her body, feeling her core pulse and twitch as her fingertips find their way down to her clit and she wondered.. How would your touch feel, how would you do it.. or if you would let her do it to you instead.
Soft whines escaping her parted lips, her movements picking up the pace, making her hips back up and down against the bed, craving friction, craving you with every fiber of her body, mind and soul.
She can't help but say your name breathlessly, sucking on her own finger before slowly bringing it down to wet her nipple, sending a shiver down her spine as she drags her fingertips through her own slick arousal.
There wasn't a moment in her life so far that made her feel like such a mess. Suddenly the cool temperature of the room turned into unbearable heat, sweat dripping down from her forehead, brown hair messy against her pillow as she bucks up her hips against her palm, biting down on her bottom lip in an unsuccessful attempt to be quiet but as she gets closer to her climax, she can't control it.
Suddenly it's hard to breathe, her thighs start to tremble whilst her fingers stroke her clit faster, she can feel it coming. It's an unprecedented sensation, sending her body in trance. The thought of you kissing her, touching her, brings her finger back into her mouth, wetting it with the tip of her tongue. Would you let her do that? Stuff her long fingers in your mouth while she's grinding her hot core against yours? A soft moan fell from her lips at the thought of it, pinching her nipple, her eyelids fluttering to the sensation.
For Abby, it didn't occur to her along with an existential crisis. She expected a thousand powerful waves crushing down on her like they do when there's a storm. That never happened. To her, it felt like the calm that follows after.
#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson smut#abby tlou#abby the last of us#abby x reader#the last of us#tlou2#abby anderson x y/n#ellie williams smut
872 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kiss it Off Me
CHAPTER 5
Chapter Summary:
The farmer have the knack to be in the right place at the right time.
And apparently, Haley just happens to be there—
All the time.
Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer
Disclaimer: I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.
Warning: alcohol
Gif by LoucoMarx's Artwork
If anyone told Haley she'd grown fond of you at the beginning of the year, she'd probably laugh at their faces.
It's weird.
How you become a constant presence in her life right now that it would be weird not to see you even once a day.
It had been apparently a routine for you, and unfortunately (fortunate) for her, that you'd drop by the 2 Willow Lane every morning as long as it's beyond 8am to have breakfast with them.
Emily is more than willing to accommodate you, saying along the lines "Haley's a little calmer when you're around, Y/n/n."
Ridiculous.
Of course Haley had to be on her best behavior. You didn't need to see her and Emily squabble for the second time around. That would be embarrassing.
Well... that's what she likes to think. What she allows herself to think.
Because why else would you even stick around with someone as mean as her and give her all these gifts?
And why the hell is Haley even putting up with this?
She'd like to think it's because you want to get something from her. Let's say an ulterior motive.
But deep down she knows it's simply because you're just nice.
At first, you looked like you're trying a little too hard to be liked by everyone else. Why else would you give almost everyone gifts instead of actually selling them and make profit? It just doesn't make sense.
But the moment Haley experienced your kindness firsthand, she knew to herself that there's really no other ulterior motive behind all the easy smiles and gifts you were giving Haley.
So, even though she tried not to like it, she found herself actively looking for your presence.
Luckily for her, it just so happens the farmer also have the knack to be in the right place at the right time.
Surprisingly this time, Haley doesn't seem to mind.
Spring 17
This damn thing.
Haley let out an exasperated sigh as she stared at the stubborn jar in front of her, glaring it with such hatred she hoped it might open itself from the pressure. Her hands were already starting to hurt from trying to twist the lid open.
Can't she have a break? She just wants to cook breakfast today since Emily's out and all, and Haley can finally show you some of her cooking skills at home.
Yeah, sure she can be absolutely lazy with household chores but cooking is actually something she loved to do.
"Come on, just open already!" she exclaimed through gritted teeth.
Haley tried to use all her strength to open the jar, letting out a loud grunt as she felt her palms tingle with pain. But no matter how hard she tried, the stupid lid just wouldn't budge.
She was so busy trying to open the damn thing that she didn't noticed your presence behind her with an amused grin plastered all over your face, clearly finding humor at her antics.
"You need some help?" you voiced out behind her.
"Ugh," a flash of surprise flickered on her eyes when she turned around and locked her eyes with you before her face morphed into a mock scowl. "How does it feel seeing me in pain?"
You chuckled at her exaggeration. "Aw, does the baby needs help?"
"Hmp." She squinted her eyes at that. "I was about to cook breakfast for us but now I don't feel like doing it."
She crossed her arms in mock anger for good measure.
How dare she calls her baby? And for the wrong reasons, too!
The nerve!
"Alright, alright, miss sassy pants. Come here," Haley's frustration quickly turned into surprise as she felt you tugged her by the loop of her belt, pulling her close to your body. The heat that radiates from your skin ignites a fire in Haley's belly.
You reached over and snatched the jar out of Haley's grip, flicking it open with a simple twist of your wrist. You then swiftly returned it to Haley's hand and gave her a look that could only be described as smug.
"Piece of cake," you bragged with a grin.
Haley cleared her throat, masking her embarrassment as she playfully shoved you away. "Hmp. You're stronger than you look."
You narrowed your eyes at her, and Haley caught a mischievous glint in your gaze.
"What do you mean, 'stronger than I look'?" you retorted, a hint of challenge dripping in your voice. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve, you know?"
"Oh, really now?"
As if to prove your point, you rolled up your sleeves up to your shoulders, flexing your muscles just long enough for Haley to appreciate how farm works definitely did wonders to your physiques, not that you weren't already toned before, but you're definitely becoming a little buffer.
Those farmer clothes just hid them all this time.
Haley's mouth went dry. "Y-yeah, yeah, show off."
It's amazing how Haley still manage to act like this when a simple act of flexing had her gotten her hot and bothered.
She's never been one to swoon over muscles before (Alex's muscle only made her gag most of the time), but there's something about the way you look right now that has her feeling all kinds of things.
She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts of any impure ideas.
She didn't want to give you the satisfaction of stroking your already growing ego. Haley' sure that you are well aware of your effect on her, and if she let it show, you would only be so smug about it.
Sometimes, Haley regrets letting you be friends with Alex. Clearly, he's rubbing off you already.
"I wonder how many other ladies have been lucky enough to see that impressive display."
"How many are you?" you readily quipped.
Haley suddenly choked on her own spit as heat rose to her cheeks at your sudden boldness. (What the hell? What the what?)
"I'm gonna hit you," Haley threatened half-heartedly as she tried to regain her composure (and dignity.)
She has to make this stop or else everything will be too much for her. Which was a frequent occurrence nowadays when you're near her.
"Okay, okay!" you barked out a laugh, seemingly oblivious to your effect on Haley, much to her relief. "I'll help you cook, alright?"
"Fine. But you're going to boil the pasta. You suck at making the sauce."
"Yeah, yeah, M'lady. Let's do it your way."
Yeah, you definitely had the knack to be in the right place at the right time.
And probably say the right things at the least opportune time.
Does Haley mind?
Definitely not.
Spring 20
The Flower Festival is in four days, and Haley will be damned if she'd be anything but flawless.
Currently lounging on her couch, Haley was draped in a flimsy white towel, the only piece of cloth covering her body besides the face mask she had just applied, and a soft towel wrapped around her hair to soak up some excess water.
She had already finished exfoliating her body, scrubbing away all the stresses and strains of the past few days. Of course, she can't forget moisturizing, too. Despite her naturally flawless skin, it took loads of branded lotions, scrubs and moisturizers (so worth the money) to keep it this perfect.
In short, it's her pampering day.
Haley was a true believer in the power of self-care, and she spared no expense in ensuring that every inch of her body was pampered to perfection.
And she can't afford to be stressed today.
Surprisingly, the day went by without a hitch.
Emily's usual nagging was nothing more than a minor annoyance that she brushed off without a second thought. And Alex, bless his heart, had the good sense to steer clear the moment he laid eyes on her with her bag of beauty essentials in tow.
He's also been kind enough to pass the message to you. Saying he'll just ask you to play ball with him or whatever to keep you busy earlier that morning.
Nothing, she repeats, nothing could ruin this nigh—
Her phone ringing was absolutely the least she expected to hear.
She was tempted to not answer, assuming it will be Emily on the other line. She doesn't call often during her shift, but if she does, she would occasionally ask Haley to bring either her apron or her shoes.
So, Haley's a little bit apprehensive about answering.
There's no way she's gonna be waltzing around outside just to give Emily her damn apron when she just finished her self-care!
Curiosity got the best of her though. With a deep breath, she swiped the answer button, hesitantly bringing the device to her ear.
"What?" she snapped, a little irritated at the interruption.
"Thank Yoba you answered. I was beginning to think you wouldn't." Emily babbled on the other line.
"Just spit it out, Em."
"Um," Haley can hear her hesitation. "Y/n/n's a little out of it and I kind of need help to get her home."
Haley sat a little bit straight at the mention of your name. "What do you mean she's out of it?"
"She's drunk."
For the love of Yoba—
What the hell are you thinking getting your ass drunk like that?
"Hay, are you still there?"
Haley has to literally calm herself down before speaking again. "I'm sorry but I can't. I just finished applying my face mask!"
"I see, I just thought since you're close with her and all..." Emily sounded a bit disappointed but didn't pushed it further. "I may just have to ask Penny to get her hom—"
"Be there in 5," was all Haley said before going to her room to get dressed.
She's going to kill you.
****
In no time at all, Haley arrived at the Saloon in her pajamas, hair damped and bare faced and everything.
She saw Emily waiting outside, a visibly worried expression etched on her face. "Where is she?" Haley asked, her tone urgent.
Emily motioned towards the Saloon's door. "She's inside."
Normally, Haley wouldn't be caught alive inside her sister's workplace but that's the least of her concerns right now. "What the hell happened?"
"Since it was Shane's birthday and all. Y/n/n kind of bet with him who could drink the most beer without getting drunk. Safe to say no one won, huh?" Emily had the audacity to sound so sheepish.
Haley nodded absentmindedly and took a deep breath before pushing open the door.
Sure enough, you were there, slumped over the bar with a couple of empty bottle of beer beside her. Shane's there too, but he's unconscious on the floor with Marnie trying her absolute best to wake her nephew up.
Haley wanted to be mad at you. You literally made Haley walked across town with nothing but her pajamas! She also never go out without makeup and especially when she has just finished her skin care!
But what the hell.
Her heart could only flutter at the sight. How can someone be an idiot and cute at the same time?
She strode over to you and placed a hand on your back, careful not to startle you. "Y/n, come on. Let's get you home," she chided softly.
You groaned softly, lifting your head slightly at the sound of her voice, your eyes bloodshot and unfocused. "Hay..? Is that you..?"
"Yeah, it's me," Haley answered, helping you to your feet. She took your arm and wrapped them around her shoulder, while her other arm secured its place on your waist to keep youfrom falling. "Come on, let's go."
Having the inability to stand by yourself, Haley found you leaning almost half of your weight on her.
Yoba, you're quite heavy.
"You smell geurd..." you slurred more.
Haley tried to fight herself from flushing at the comment. It did not help that your face is practically buried at the side of her neck.
"I know," Haley tried to retort. "And you smell like beer." She wrinkled her nose in mock disgust.
On the contrary, you actually smelled like freshly picked lemons and mint apart from the subtle scent of beer. It seemed that you prepared for this occasion and showered accordingly.
Haley briefly nods in approval. You didn't smell as bad as she expected, you weren't even sweaty, too compared to Shane here.
Haley stole a quick glance at him, noting his unruly stubble, tattered hoodie, and unkempt hair.
It was evident he hadn't exactly prioritized cleanliness lately. Haley couldn't help but be grateful that you were the complete opposite. But she decided not to dwell on it. After all, it was Shane's birthday, and he was entitled to be himself, even if it meant being his usual slightly musty, emo self.
"Even in my prime years I wasn't able to drink that much beer!" Pam cackled at the background, catching Haley's attention. She's clearly only tipsy despite the massive number of empty bottles in front of her. "Kids these days, really." She shook her head before turning to Emily. "Kid, can you give me some more mead?"
"Sure, Pam." Emily looks at Haley apologetically. "Sis, can you—"
"I got it. It's okay."
Leah, who had been eyeing them from the table decided to make her way towards them. "Do you need help?" before adding jokingly, "I didn't know Y/n/n was a drinker."
"Well, at least she's a lot calmer than Pam." Gus chimes in. "And a whole lot lesser violent than Shane here." He added as he eyed Shane on the floor with a couple of empty bottles beside him. Marnie is still trying to wake him up.
Haley raised an immaculate brow.
If Leah wanted to help maybe it would have been useful a couple of hours ago if she stopped this dungus from doing a stupid bet. Haley didn't dare say that though, and bit her tongue to stop saying something foul, instead, she opted with a strained, "thanks, but I got this."
"You sur—"
The door of the Saloon swung open once again, and another redhead came straight to them. "What happened?" Penny asked in urgent. She's clad in her pajamas as well and her usually immaculate hair was down, which tells she's also ready for bed. "Mom called that Y/n/n was dru—"
"Kiddo, you're here!" Pam cheered loudly, Gus can only grimace at her antics. "I was just saying here that Y/n definitely won the bet!"
"Mom..." Penny sighed. "You should have stopped her. Y/n has work tomorrow."
"Hmp. It wouldn't hurt to have fun. Let the kid get loose a little. She's already been working hard."
Knowing it's no use to argue with her drunk mom. Penny turned to Haley, giving her a polite smile. "Do you need help taking her home?"
"Yeah!" Leah agreed beside her. "My cabin's near her farm, it would be no problem at all."
Haley tries to mask the sudden annoyance she feels at the women in front of her, and as well as the struggle she's feeling under the weight of the farmer. But she stood her ground stubbornly. She fakes a smile. "I got this."
"Are you s—"
"I got this." She repeated, this time firmly.
****
She definitely did not got this.
You were thoughtful enough to stay still while Haley guided you out of the Saloon. But once they took a turn near 2 Willow Lane, the farmer started wriggling against her grasp.
"W-where... we going..?" you asked, slurring.
"I'm taking you home," Haley replied in between grunts.
What the hell is she even thinking?
She should have accepted Penny's help— hell, even Leah's help would be also appreciated but Haley just didn't like the idea of having those two around you.
Yeah, she knew you're friends with these two girls but Emily called her first, right? Never mind that she declined it first but Haley didn't want to be a bad friend letting you slumped all night long over that greasy bar.
"Yoba, just how many beers did you drink? Surely, you're not that much of a lightweight."
You narrowed your eyes at her, holding up three fingers, "I had 9. Shane I think..." you held out a finger to her chin, "had 7."
Haley couldn't help but snort in amusement. "I'm pretty sure I'm not that dumb to count 3 on your fingers."
"It's 3 times 3."
"Yeah, sure."
"Yeah! And I'm completely sober," you declared, as if your words alone were enough proof. But your actions told a different story, as you stumbled once again, prompting Haley to exclaim, "stay still, you dungus!" before you manage to free yourself away from Haley's arms. "See?"
"Clearly." Haley answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she approached you. You were swaying dangerously and on the verge of collapsing over Marnie's fence.
"Oops—" You flashed a stupid grin as Haley caught you just in time, preventing you from face-planting into one of the feces of Marnie's cows. "Thanks, babe."
Haley almost dropped you at the unexpected endearment.
Her cheeks flushed deeply, and she internally debated whether to abandon you here or let her own remaining shreds of dignity vanish into the night.
She coughed awkwardly, trying to regain her composure. "Wow, you sure are flirty tonight. You sure you're sober?"
"I don't know," You answered truthfully, sounding strangely sober. You came to a halt, causing Haley to stop as well. "The only time I allow myself to be this close to you without my heart pounding in my chest is in the reality I've created in my dreams. So, tell me, Haley..."
Under the moonlight, your eyes held an intensity and softness that seemed almost impossible.
"Am I sober, or is this just a dream?"
****
Next
Notes:
I absolutely adore all those who left some comments from the past chapters. Thank you so much!
Alsooooo, I know it's a bit overdue buuuut
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 1K LIKES AND 100 FOLLOWERS! I didn't really expect this account to blow up like this but I really, really appreciate you guys and your patience for me.
I am so sorry for the delays as well. I just have a lot of things happening at the same time, you know, with uni and everything.
And I feel like I owe you guys a chapter. So here ya go!
254 notes
·
View notes
Text
open the door, mr. choi!
synopsis: going up to yeonjun's dorm, the man you believe to be a complete tool, and asking to use his shower isn't very fun.
genre: one sided enemies to lovers, fluff, angst??
pairing: yeonjun x f!reader
warning: very unrealistic writing of living on campus (i'm manifesting here..), a curse word here and there
author notes: this is so incredibly short but i like writing banter so..lol this really is just banter. reblogging is appreciated!
Transferring to a different college mid semester for better opportunities proved to be that mistake. The mistake you realize is going to be hard to top, the biggest one you've made in your entire life.
In addition to losing daily contact with your friends, you were in a complete foreign city, practically stranded. You had zero relationship with your professors, there were completely different material you had to learn to pass exams, and you had no time to make any friends. even after you decided to go through the on-campus housing route, You were only on friendly speaking terms with your roommate.
You wished you reviewed the dormitories, but you hadn't which then cost you to learn that the girls dormitory had constant complaints about water supply; it was either the sink, the toilet, or the shower — it would just decide to stop working.
Thankfully, the time you've spent living with your roommate, you only experienced one — the sink. There were problems with it practically every other day, ten times more constant than everybody else. Which caused you to naively believe it canceled out all the other occuring problems everyone else had.
So, imagine your surprise when you walk in under the shower head, butt naked, with not one drop coming out on your hair.
"Yunjin!" you yell out, panicking as you adjust the diverter still with no sign of water. "Yunjin is the water out!?"
You sigh when you can't hear a response through the door, and opted to step out the shower, and carefully walk towards the door. You slightly open it, making sure to only poke your head out as your eyes wandered around the dorm.
Great, there's no sign of her.
When you get dressed again, you throw yourself on your bed, staring at the time on your phone. 8:39PM.
Your roommate had helped you out with getting a blind date, in hopes of "putting yourself out there". Though at the time you didn't meet her with much excitement, pretending to despise the idea—Currently, you were practically a few seconds away from pulling out your hair at the thought of missing it.
For god sake, you haven't been on a date since, what, two years? And even worse, when you finally got a chance, you weren't ditching the date on your own accord, but because you couldn't shower!
"I'm gonna fucking sue them!" you shout, directing your pit of rage at your ceiling. Though, right after, you bury your face in your pillow, groaning like a little child, knowing that no matter how many complaints you submit, there would be zero response. So, at the moment, it felt like the best thing to do was give up.
Give up and ...reschedule.
No, you can't—you won't. You have to go on the date—today. An adrenaline-like surge of determination motivates you to shoot up from your bed, and quickly head to your bathroom again. You will go on this date, you owe it to Yunjin—and also, to yourself.
When you look at the counter, you immediately spot the magic wand practically ogling at you, begging you to use it. Your deodorant.
What other option did you have? When you pick up the deodorant stick, you shut your eyes, praying that the combination between deodorant and perfume could manage to make you smell good enough. You exhale, the gross thought making it hard for you to even lift your shirt.
You hear a ping of your phone, quickly opening your eyes, dropping your hand, which in turn also gets your hand off the piece of fabric you were holding.
When you look at the notification, you exhaustedly exhale, your shoulders dropping. It wasn't surprising to see it was him. Yeonjun—the guy you've been working on a project with for the past few months.
And also, the guy you've been trying to avoid ever since you got assigned the project. He was practically a mosquito, buzzing near your ears every waking moment of the day. It was easier for him when he got your number, as per your professor's request. According to her, it would be easier for you two to communicate with each other's contact numbers.
But you begged to differ, especially after these tortuous days of having your phone go off randomly throughout the day. All it did was tear away your focus from more important matters.
You opt to ignore the text, like you always do— and focus on your preparation for your date. That is, until a light bulb lights up above your head, halting your movement, as you furrow your brows in thought.
The boy's dormitory never had an issue with water, it was a usual complaint you'd overhear girls around you say in your morning classes. Their issue was odor. Which you would bet a few cents that that was specifically the consequence of the herd of men living in one space, but you digress.
Sure, you aren't very fond of the idea to go up to the man you find pretty repulsive—in terms of personality, repulsive. He was the walking definition of a douche, but you just got a date, in two years! Who knows the next time you'll get the golden opportunity again? So, you grab your towel and head out the bathroom.
You only hope that your lack of answering back texts wouldn't backfire on you.
Though it took him a few knocks, Yeonjun finally opens his door. His jaw slacks a little and brows raised, clearly taken back by your sudden visit. You wait for him to say something—or rather, you take the time to study his figure for a good second; your eyes instinctually taking in how...good he looks. His dyed hair subtly spiking his eyes, his lips looking a little more pink than usual, and the flowy dress shirt being down two button, exposing his chest—
"Y/N checking out Yeonjun part, what, a hundred?" he stupidly grins, leaning on his door frame with his arms crossed.
"Part zero." you deadpan, he was back to getting on your nerves.
"Right..." he purses his lip, which earns an audible scoff from you, his confidence was astoundingly high. Normally, you'd think it was a praiseworthy trait, confident people are cool, but Yeonjun was something else.
"Okay—look, I have no time to waste. I need your help." you say, cutting to the chase.
"Clearly..." Yeonjun says, his gaze falling to the towel hanging on one arm, and a plastic bag tight in your hand.
"First, sorry for coming here so unexpectedly—"
"Hold on," he raises up a hand to stop you, which is an annoying thing he's been doing to you lately. "Did you just apologize? To me?" he then puts a hand on his heart, pouting like a child.
When you try to open your mouth again, his finger was on your lips in attempt to shut you up — he was getting dangerously confident. You glare at him, which sends the message loud and clear as he drops his hand immediately.
"Look, if you're here for the project, I can't. I actually have a bedtime I have to follow through."
You furrow your eyebrows in disbelief. "A bedtime? What are you? Twelve?"
He clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval. "Damn it Y/N, this was the part where you were supposed to prove to me that you're worthy of me letting you in my dorm."
"I'm not here for the project, Yeonjun." you sigh, your energy drained from all his talking.
"Then what? It's like—" he raises his wrist to take a look at his watch. And to your dismay, his smug smile prepares you for some more teasing. "My, my, my. Coming to my dorm at nine? So I see it you changed your mind about, you know..." he puckers his lips in attempt to make smooching noises, which only earned a judgemental stare from your side.
"We're never going to have sex—ugh, I just came to use your shower, the one at my dorm stopped working." you've learned to stop yourself from engaging with his antics, it only cost you more social battery after all.
"Ah." he says, biting his lip as he appears to think more of your request. "I'm sorry, can't." he concludes.
"Huh? Why?" you ask then immediately groan at a thought, "God, do you have a girl naked in there?"
"You don't realize it sometimes Y/N, but you are a slut shamer."
You deadpan, letting out a long sigh. "Are you calling yourself a slut?"
"Frankly, for your information, I don't have a girl in there. She actually left a few minutes ago." he says ignoring your question, though he couldn't be happier from the annoyed reaction he got out of you— which he was quick to love and appreciate the more he got it.
You roll your eyes, "So, why can't you?"
"Glad you asked," he says, reaching in his pockets to dig out something. He faces his phone to you, your messages open, only blue texts being on the screen. "You've been ghosting me for like, two weeks."
So your lack of replying back is biting you in the ass.
You didn't have time, dropping the plastic bag full of your date clothes, reaching out to your pocket to get your phone.
You quickly type up an 'okay' without reading the text, and hit send. When you hear the sound of a notification from his phone, you put up a tight lipped smile as you shove your phone in your pockets, picking up your clothes and pushing yourself in his dorm.
Yeonjun broke into a smile you don't catch, as he looks back to you. "Breaking and entering is a felony Y/N!" he yells out.
You ignore him, your attention more focused on how weirdly neat his place was. Was he a fast cleaner? Tidying up the place this fast after sex?
You guessed that was what a long duration of experience gives you — the ability to clean up in minutes. But then you noticed a computer open, with the desk it's on being surrounded with crumbled paper.
Odd.
You hear the door shut, guessing it was Yeonjun, which snaps you out of your thoughts as you immediately head to the bathroom. If you stayed a second later, there was a 50% chance he would've stopped you to ask questions.
When you enter the bathroom, and lock the door behind you, you're pleasantly caught by surprise.
The smell—the smell wasn't foul. You hate to admit, in the back of your mind, you'd always have this image of Yeonjun—a player who was gross.
You don't exactly know why you held onto it for so long since there were multiple, multiple times you got close enough, that your nose could pick up his cologne—it smelled really good, not too strong, just enough.
And when you stand there in his bathroom, weirdly finding yourself inhaling the scent of the air—it smelled pretty fucking good.
A loud knock on the door your back is leaning on startles you, making you jump. "Hey, hurry up! I'm giving you fifteen minutes."
Fifteen minutes? What a psycho.
You shake your head at your own ungratefulness—he was letting you borrow his shower, which you genuinely appreciated, so you undressed quickly in hopes of showering forty minutes max.
You didn't pick up your hair brush with you, so consequently you were spending a great deal of time untangling your hair with your towel—which wasn't very..effecitve.
You already changed, obviously, but your makeup was undone. Just lipgloss was all you had time to do, you thought in your head, disappointed.
Not to forget—Yeonjun has been talking to you through the door the moment you shut the running water—not proving the mosquito reincarnation theories you've been holding onto, to be wrong. He was driving you very close to the edge of insanity.
"You're taking so long." he whines for the hundredth time. "I have to show you something."
You groan, walking towards the door. You were clothed now anyway, if opening the door would finally fix Yeonjun's mouth being a broken record, you would happily do it.
He shuffles away from the door when you push it open, flustered as he clears his throat.
Was he leaning on the door?
"What do you want?"
You think you see his eyes scanning your outfit for a second, a hint of confusion overtaking his expression but he turns away to walk towards the computer—the one that was previously surrounded with balled up paper, so you ignore it. "You look hot but I'll decide to ignore that. I have to show you something."
You exhale, your hair still pretty untamed. "Alright, I don't have that much time though."
He let himself fall on his spinning office chair, as he gestures his hand for you to sit at the edge of his bed.
You clear your throat, waiting for him to stop stalling through his spinning.
And he does.
"Okay." he exhaled, a little shakily. Which was weird. "So, remember the text you sent okay too?"
"Yeonjun...that just happened. Like an hour ago."
"Yep, yeah. Cool, cool, cool." he repeats, opting to spin once more. You raise an eyebrow, is he trolling you?
"I didn't like—you know, read the text. I mean, I can."
"You didn't read it? You should. Actually—nope, no. You shouldn't. You should. Yeah, you should."
You knit your eyebrows together at his odd speaking patterns. Reaching for your phone, you click on the message icon—until a number pops up, calling you.
All of a sudden, you get nervous. Your hand getting all clammy as you swiped right on the call.
"Hi." you breath out, biting your lip in eagerness to hear your date's voice.
Yeonjun only watches you, cocking his head at the sudden mood change. No—he was tilting his head because of all of that. Your dress, the matching bag, your lipgloss.
He furrows his brows, still watching you stutter on the phone, and practically making a fool of yourself with the way you were stupidly, prettily smiling ear to ear.
You never did that with him. Okay, sure, he likes seeing you roll your eyes or scoff at his antics— it brings him pure joy! But god, thinking now, he would appreciate it a hundred times more if your reaction to him was a smile—that smile instead. Or a laugh. Or a hug, maybe a kiss—
Time didn't wait for anyone—connecting the dots unfortunately only happened the moment you hung up the phone.
"Sorry, that was my date. I really have to go. What do you want to show me?"
"Um—uh...gross!"
You scrunch up your face, taken aback. "What?"
"You—you have, like, spinach stuck between your teeth."
Your eyes widen in shock immediately getting off the bed, but then you halt, turning to look at Yeonjun. "But I didn't eat spinach today. Or yesterday." you mumble.
"Well, I'm sorry I'm not a professional chef that can tell what that nasty piece of green leaf is in between your teeth."
"God, is it that bad?" you ask in horror, not waiting for his reply as you burst into the bathroom.
Meanwhile as you check your teeth in the mirror, Yeonjun immediately grabs the phone you left on his bed, which was still open—letting him breath in relief.
He immediately went on to his name on your phone to open the messages between you two—it was ridiculous but a smile still tugged on his lips for a split second when he noticed his contact name was the one he typed in a few months ago, still 'hottest man alive'—he took it a sign you didn't disagree... or it could be that you were too lazy to change it.
But he immediately shook his head out of the thought — doing his job of deleting the message that you sent an okay to.
"What the fuck are you doing?" you say with wide eyes, snatching your phone away from the boys hand.
"Just checking the time." he says with an awkward smile, a little startled of your sudden presence.
"On my phone? You literally have a watch." you say, your tone laced with confusion.
Which signaled Yeonjun to shoot up from his bed, pushing you out towards the door—there was no way out of this but to push you out, and hopefully the date being horrible enough for you to forget about confronting him about this tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow. Preferably, for the rest of his life on Earth.
"Time for you to leave!" he yells, finally getting you out of his dorm, and now out in the hallway.
Before you could say anything—for example, reminding him that 90% of the stuff you brought was still in the bathroom—he slammed the door right in your face.
When you recollect your shock, you scoff, your annoyance through the roof.
What was he looking at in your phone?
You open it, hoping to find the answer.
But you're only confused as you only see your chat with Yeonjun open.
And even more confused when the text length of the message before your 'okay' was way shorter than what you remember.
Meanwhile, Yeonjun was sitting on his desk chair, biting his lip as he hesitantly hit the delete button on the music project he's been working on.
ending a/n: i think i'm allergic to ending a fic with the two pairings getting together cz tell me why this was deadass just enemies to ????? T_T
#txt x reader#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun x y/n#tomorrow x together#choi yeonjun x you#choi yeonjun tomorrow x together#txt#txt imagines#txt fics#yeonjun imagines#yeonjun fic#txt fluff#txt angst#yeonjun angst#yeonjun fluff#txt headcanons#txt smut#yeonjun smut#txt x you#moa#txt moa#kang taehyun#soobin#beomgyu
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)
Part 10
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Epilogue
Warnings: SMUT!! and also BAD WRITING!! TYPOS AS WELL PROBABLY!! BUT MAINLY THE SMUT!!!
Word Count: 21.5K (Fun Fact: If you have read all of JP, that's 159 pages single space of reading.)
A/N: Here it is. The finale of my heartfelt daydream, laid bare for you all to see. I hope you've enjoyed the ride: the road ends here.
GIF: @gavidaily (i've been waiting since part 1 to use this mf gif)
Previously on Just Pretend
"Scrubs? You look too young to be a doctor." "You don't look old enough to be let into the club, but everyone is full of surprises."
~
"You're late. It's 6:45." "Good morning to you too, Gavira."
~
Gavi found himself glancing at your ass as you leaned over, before swiftly looking away. He did not like you. He had a baseline of respect for you as a young successful professional. Nothing else.
~
"Are we not friends, y/n?"
"I'm not sure, Gavi. We could be if you stopped hating me."
"I don't hate you. I think."
~
Gavi stopped thinking. He acted on impulse only. He tugged the wrist that was in his hand, pulling you in. Your head met with his hard chest, and you felt one arm circle your shoulder. You remained like this for a long moment: up against Gavi, his arm pressing you into his chest, his shirt soaking up the wetness on your cheeks.
"'m sorry. I won't let him talk to you that way anymore."
~
"It's okay, Pablo. I can take care of myself." A tear finally rolled down your cheek.
"I know you can, Doctora. I know you could take on the world if you wanted to. But you shouldn't have to. You deserve to be loved and spoiled. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
~
"You saved me Pablo." You whispered out against him, needing to tell him someway, somehow, how much you appreciated him.
"Anyone would have interfered, doctora." He whispered back, being bold and caressing the skin of your arm that he encased with his.
"Not just today. In general. Since I met you, Pablo, you've made my life better. I just wanted to let you know. Good night."
~
"Because from the moment I laid eyes on you, I felt like I knew you. I don't know if I saw you on the street or in a dream, but a part of my brain recognized you, and since then I've been in pain. Pain that you can't even help me with. Nobody can. It's so hard to watch everyone take advantage of you all the fucking time. It tears me apart constantly. But it let me get closer to you. You let me get closer. And I tried so hard to keep it at bay, to be the friend that you need."
~
"My heart, doctora. When I give it to you, please keep it. Forever."
~
Now...
"Miss y/l/n, due to the... historic lack of women in the club, we do not have internal policies regarding relationships between players and employees. We just use the ones that La Liga as a whole have put in place. Those are quite forgiving, in my opinion. You can enter a romantic workplace relationship as long as it is appropriately disclosed, and you cannot be terminated as a result of that relationship ending. I saw the photo of you being pulled onto the field during the final of the Supercopa. Do you mean to tell me it was not with romantic intent?"
You had never experienced more severe whiplash in your life. First, you had been reprimanded for being too close to Pablo, for showing what Xavi classified as 'favoritism', as it hurt the team dynamic. Then you had been ridiculed by staff and players for allegedly sleeping with Pablo, and had been told you could be fire for doing so even if it was a bold faced lie. And now, months later, you were being told that it was not only okay for you to be in a relationship with Pablo, but you literally couldn't lose your job if you did? Someone in the family must have been praying for you. Or for Pablo. Was Pedri religious?
"Dr. Gonzalez, I think there has been some sort of misunderstanding. Gavi and I are just friends. Not even - we're just coworkers that get along well! There was no romance happening anywhere on the field."
And it was true. Well, sort of. You couldn't speak for Gavi's intention, but you would bet that he hadn't meant to do anything that could be perceived as romantic. Not only was he incredibly shy when it came to anything to do with his private life, but moreover, you had started to toy with the idea that maybe you were wrong about Pablo. Maybe you had misread the signs. Maybe Pedri's stylist, who you now also so lovingly referred to as naranja, had only fed into your delusions instead of delivering the hard truth to you.
"He's in love with you, stupid."
That's exactly what she had said to you when you answered the question 'so are you close to Pedri?', stating that the things Pablo did for you were far from the actions of a friend. And she was right. Friends didn't need to be physically touching in order to have a peaceful night of sleep. Friends don't feel the need to always be near the other, unable to focus if one wasn't near. Friends certainly didn't imagine each other in compromising situations: shirtless, panting, trying so hard to control his throbbing- no. Friends certainly didn't imagine such scenes. Most of all, friends didn't find themselves in these intimate moments, the air thick with anticipation, where lips were centimeters from meeting, and seconds away from saying something that would change the dynamic forever. Well, at least that's what you thought. Maybe Naranja would be your friend long enough to see if these were truly just normal hallmarks of friendship (although Pedri might be a tad upset if the two of you started sleeping together). You're glad she offered her cellphone number to you.
But this was not the only opinion that was presented to you. You had been sitting on your couch one night, a rare evening when Gavi had promised to accompany Ansu to one hangout or another, his absence felt greatly. It had been weeks since you had a moment that wasn't filled by Pablo's voice, his laughter, his breathing as you completed an assignment while he scrolled through TikTok. There was an eerie silence to the house now, and you needed something to take your thoughts off of your maladaptive daydreams of Pablo laying on your couch, looking up at you through long lashes with a tender gaze. It was almost as if you could run your hands through his messed up brown locks, watching his eyes close as you massaged his scalp, feeling him lean more into your touch.That's all you wanted. Not even for Pablo to come to you with a grand confession of love, but just to be with him with no boundaries, no fear, no awkwardness. Just love and safety and the freedom to exist as you were. Together.
But there was no idle chatter or TikTok sounds to fill the silence, and so you had to do so yourself. You made yourself a delectable cup of tea, favorite mug warming your palm as you tried to balance your plate of snacks in the other. The camp nutritionists had been testing recipes all week, and had sent you home with some of the best food you had ever had, including a tupperware of cookies that could give those little Nestle birds a run for their money. Comfortable on the couch in that same black hoodie with the embroidered '6', you qued, rather ironically, He's Just Not That Into You (a great romcom, but not for people doubting if they're deserving of being loved). Your phone had lit up with a familiar name that you hadn't seen in months now.
"Angelika! How are you? How was fashion week? I saw the collection on Instagram. It looked stunning!"
Since her announcement about moving to Paris, you hadn't heard a peep from your 'best friend'. A mutual friend you ran into at the market had told you her move had been delayed until after the collection had shown at fashion week since the creative director had surprisingly quit, so everything was on ice until he was replaced. You had seen her collection on Diet Prada, not questioning why you hadn't seen the posts that she had made celebrating her work.
"Oh it was fabulous, and Alessandro just got replaced so Paris must be coming soon. I would have invited you, but I only got 6 invitations, and you're always so busy. Didn't want to have an empty seat."
She knew she had made a mistake when she saw your face on the screen drop. You had been the main supporter of Ang's career since you met her, and yet she didn't even bother sending you an invitation or seeing if you might be able to attend.
"Anyway, how have you been? What's new with you?"
You spoke briefly about school and work, before taking a deep breath and opening up the gnarly can of worms that was you and Gavi's current situation. You had no other people with enough context or who you felt comfortable enough with to reveal all your thoughts on the matter. All your hopes and dreams that he would sweep you off your feet. All your insecurities and fears that you had created something unhealthy, something that would dissolve into worse than nothing. No matter how you spun it, it was nice to have a friend, even if you had to ignore that you were walking a mile to see an inch in return.
Angelika listened rather silently to the entire series of events, asking one or two clarifying questions, but for the most part allowing you to monologue. When you finished speaking, you sighed rather dreamily and fell back into your couch, pulling your (Gavi's) hoodie closer around you. Sometime you forgot how much he had bulked up, until you were drowning in the shirts he had donated to you. Maybe there was something there. Now that Dr. G had confessed he thought you two were already in a relationship, the only missing piece was Pablo. You had tried to hint to him that, if he felt even the slightest affection towards you, he should go for it. Make the shot. The goal was empty - hell, the goalie would even guide the ball in for him. Had you been too subtle with your affections? Or had he purposefully ignored the brush of your lips on his throat in order to preserve your pride?
“Don’t you think you’re being a little bit delusional?”
Angelika’s statement was like a splash of ice water on your warm and fuzzy form. You looked at the FaceTime call like the woman on the screen in front of you had grown horns from her head.
“I’m … what?”
“Delusional. I mean it seems like you’re reading too much into his actions. So he what? Used you as his driver and let you keep a hoodie he got from the staff for free? Nothing super special.”
“But… but it wasn’t just that. He-“ She hadn’t even let you finish your sentence, not so subtly rolling her eyes, like she was so utterly bored with your story.
“Yeah, yeah, he punched your ex boyfriend who cheated on you. But I mean, cmon, you like, refused to fuck him. This is the second guy to cheat on you. Maybe it’s you, ha. And Gavi is literally just a raging teenager who has been looking to hit someone. I don’t think you should fly into your princess fantasies because he he finally lost his shit. And now you’re sleeping next to him every night and he’s waiting for you to give him some pussy. Better melt up quick, ice princess, before he gets tired of waiting.”
There it was again. The nausea. The head pounding. The vision blurring and room spinning. The sinking feeling that you were being betrayed by someone you had let in again. If you squinted your eyes a little, she might have even slightly resembled Martin.
“You… think he’s only being nice to me so that I’ll sleep with him?” You asked, voice soft and slow to hide the shake desperately wanting to emerge.
“Oh, absolutely. It’s not like there’s much else there. Now you look upset, but don’t be. I’m just telling you the truth so you don’t get hurt.”
“No, you’re just being a bitch.”
Your response seemed to have caught the both of you off guard. Your face had gone red with frustration, hands trembling with rage that you were desperately trying to quell. What a funny thing, rage. Feminine rage to be exact. The rage of men is common place in society - sort of like bullets. Everyone has heard a gunshot or seen what a bullet can do, in their personal life or on a screen. Male rage and fury is a normal part of life that everyone expects and respects. People bite their tongues hard enough to draw blood before they dare lash out at a man, fearful of sharp words and blunt fists. But feminine rage wasn’t a real threat. Oh no, it was more of a concept. A black and red Pinterest aesthetic in red and black, with pinups and devil horns and swirling script. It was only a danger to the self; a threat of implosion with no shrapnel to hit anyone else. A star dying, a mind shattering, as entertainment to those around. There was never an expectation for her to lash out and defend herself against those who poked at her until she bled. But should a cornered lioness cower in fear rather than attacking?
“What… what the hell is wrong with you?”
“No, what the hell is wrong with you, Angelika? All I’ve done since the day I met you is try and be there for you. All I’ve done is support you through everything - relationships, family drama, you’re entire fucking career! You had professors tell you that you would be a generic designer for H&M, and I was there for you. I was the only person with you at three in the fucking morning telling you that you could do better, that you could be amazing. I was a pincushion, a mannequin, a personal chauffeur to the fabric store. And I didn’t ever do these things because I wanted something in return. I genuinely cared about you and just wanted to see my closest friend succeed! But you couldn’t even pretend to care about this obviously one-sided relationship. All I ever was to you was a person to use when you needed and thrown away when you didn’t. I was preparing for my dream interview, my biggest career goal since I was a fucking child, and not only did you ‘forget’ to give me one word of encouragement, you asked me to be your fucking ride home! And you know what? I made my peace with it. I came to terms with the fact that you thought I was incompetent at my job because everyone seems to think I’m a physio ditz. But for you to call me the nickname people called me in college to objectify me, and then say all I’m worthy of is sex?!”
Angelika was now teary eyed and red in the face. She was shaking her head, unable to respond, acting like the spitting image of a deer caught in the headlights. She was now stumbling over her words, unable to string a complete sentence together.
“That’s … thats not true I didn’t say that.”
“No, that’s exactly what you just said. Don’t be a liar on top of being a shit person. You just said it was my fault I got cheated on by my last two partners. And now I’ve still decided to give you the benefit of the doubt after you straight up admitted to me that you didn’t think of me as one of the top six people in your happy moments. I’ve poured my heart out to you and you don’t even have the decency to lie! You either said that to purposefully hurt me, or you never cared enough to listen when I spoke. Either way, you’re just the last in a long line of people who I have let walk all over me.”
Your expression was steeled and icy. You hadn’t even raised your voice once during the entire exchange, remaining calm and level headed despite the deep cuts you had made in Angelika’s self-confidence. Your lips were downturned and brows knitted together, looking at her with all the loathing she had caused you to feel for yourself. It was hard to be alone, but it was better than being surrounded with people who convinced you that you would never be enough if you didn’t fit their mold. The girl on the other side of the FaceTime call was clearly experiencing every stage of grief all at once, unsure how to respond. She had gotten through the denial, and was knee-deep in the anger. But anger did not spark eloquence, sparking the simple response of,
“Fuck you. You can go to hell.”
And you could swear you saw genuine fear in her eyes as a bright, beaming smile spread across your face. Maybe you had never seen love, but you had seen friendship. You had seen that there were people ready to carry your entire world on their shoulders. And no matter how slowly, you were working to believe that you could be loved, even by yourself. The rage had evaporated and recrystallized as content. So you smiled sickeningly sweetly at Angelika, and gave her a heartfelt response.
“I’ll see you there, darling.”
Pressing the bright red button to end the call was one of the most satisfying things you had ever done in your life. The headache and nausea and ‘I want to die’ feeling that you usually had after a confrontation was nowhere to be found. Quite the opposite, actually. It was like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Your entire chest felt like it had more room for air. Was this what every day was like for people without anxiety? How glorious. Pressing play on Gennifer Goodwyne’s best work, you made a mental note to speak to a therapist the following morning. This felt amazing. You were genuinely smiling at… what exactly? The loss of a friend? No, no - liberation from someone’s foot on your neck. What new and exciting things could you do with this new found freedom, this fresh lease on life? Naturally, you did your favorite activity: picking up the phone and texting Gavi.
Gone were the days of Pablo wracking his brain for any excuse to email, text, or call you. It was almost funny how much he had to talk himself up, looking at his reflection and reiterating how much of a 'cool, suave guy' he was before typing out a very intelligent and eloquent 'hi'. Watching a series that he had no interest in initially just to have something to talk to you about that wasn't one of his leg muscles (no interest initially - now he was patiently waiting 4-6 weeks for his neon sign in the shape of the House Stark sigil). Now it was you who couldn't leave Gavi alone, using your messages to him as a pseudo journal, spewing your entire stream of consciousness into little blue bubbles.
[You]: PABLO
[You]: YOULL NEVER GUESS WHAT I JUST DID
Locking your phone and resting it on your chest, you refocused on the chick flick illuminating the darkness of your living room, the device vibrating against you less than 30 seconds later. As much as you would like to pretend it was surprising to receive a response so quickly, this was the normal routine the two of you had created. One needed merely call out, and the other would come running.
[Pablito]: whoever u killed they better be small
[Pablito]: bcs pedri doesnt have a lot of space fr bodies in his car
There it was again: the giggling, the lip bite, the stupid half smile that made you look less like Cindy Crawford and more like the Grinch after Christmas was destroyed. But it was the natural way your body reacted to Pablo - like a schoolgirl with a crush on a boyband member in a brightly-colored magazine. Lord, how were you supposed to be normal around him? Oh how wonderful it would be to have even one inkling that Pablo reacted this way when he heard from you. But in your head, he was still Pablo Gavi with capital letters, who was standing ever so coolly with a beer in hand as he laughed with his other hot rich young athlete friends. You could never picture him as he truly was, shy and puppy-like, beer not even touched as he held his phone in one hand and twirling his hoodie string in the other. He bit down on his lip as well, eyebrows together as he waited for a response. Despite the relationship that had grown for the last six months, he still held his breath slightly when he saw the three little 'typing' dots float on his screen.
[Doctora]: i don't think i can convey the full force over text
[Doctora]: i can come over and explain it to you in person tho
"Guys, I think I need to leave." Pablo said abruptly, looking up at the group of boys, causing a record-scratch moment that abruptly ended the conversation. The heated conversation over whether the Drake curse was real had screeched to a halt, and now all four of the young Barca players were staring in disbelief.
"You haven't even been here for an hour. Where the hell could you need to be right now?" It was Alejandro who spoke up, the only one of the four who was not acutely aware of the fact that Gavi was borderline prepared to give up his entire career for you. He only had a mild inkling.
"Um... one of my friends is coming to my house and I'm going to meet them.''
"Who? We know all your friends. Who is coming over?" Ale asked, draping an arm over fellow La Masia baby Ansu, who smirked at the Sevillano as well.
"Yes, Pablito. Who is it? Ilias?" Ansu asked, obviously enjoying the bright red that seeped into Gavi's face.
"Or maybe Alvaro?" Ale seemed to be enjoying this too much, smiling brightly as Pedri tried to sip his beer without suffocating due to laughter.
"If it's one of the boys, then maybe we should come with you! Beers from the convenience store are cheaper anyways."
Pablo was sweating bullets. How could he say that he wanted to run home to hear what might possibly be the most mundane story about keeping houseplants alive?
"No, no it's... someone from back home. You guys wouldn't know her-HIM! You wouldn't know him." That may have been the worst save Pablo had ever made in his life, including the time his friends made his 5'0 self play keeper in a pick up match. Pedri finally lost the battle and spit out his beer, laughing loudly with the rest of the boys.
"Bro, why can't you just admit your massive crush on the doctor already. It's honestly getting a little tiring at this point. You've been in love with her for like three months now-" Ansu started, moving towards Gavi and clapping him on the shoulder before being interrupted by Pedri, who corrected,
"More like six months actually."
"Ah! There is no way!" Now Pablo was being ping-ponged between his two school friends, trying to keep himself from imploding from embarrassment.
"Why haven't you told her yet? Seriously now." Ale asked, pulling up a chair for himself and Pablo, the group sitting back down, conversation topic having changed into something juicier.
"You forget that he like stopped hating her and then she directly got a boyfriend, right?" Pedri said, signalling for another round of stellas to be brought over to the table.
"I don't think we should order another round. I was going to-" Pablo started, trying to nervously get up. Would he be able to find a taxi? Or should he just order an Uber? Neither possibility was explored as Pedri stuck his arm out and pushed him back into his seat, where he was now firmly locked in.
"Spill your guts. The quicker you talk, the quicker you can tell her to come over. I'll drive you home."
"Should you really be driving if you're going to be drinking?" Pablo asked cautiously as the four beers were placed on the table.
"oh, no, I'm done for the night. Two are for Ale and Ansu, and the other two are for you. For, ya know, confidence."
[Pablito]: u wnna met me at my hosue in an hours
The six minute pause between the 'Read' notification and the response from Pablo had worried you slightly. It was just enough time for the anxiety to seep into your bones. Did he find your desire to see him overwhelming and (God-forbid) clingy? Was he showing the message to Pedri & Co., laughing at your desperation? The misspelling made you even more worried. The spiral of thoughts was taking a sharp turn in the downwards direction. Was he even looking at his phone while typing? You didn't want to be a burden to him during one of the rare nights he could enjoy himself.
[Doctora]: are you sure? i don't have to come over if you're busy
"See now she doesn't want to come." Pablo said, now two beers deep with one more to go so that Pedri would let him leave.
"You're so stupid, Pablo. She wants you to want her to come over." Ansu said frustratedly. Pablo was trying to say as quickly as possible in between gulps what was stopping him from confessing his feelings to you. It had gone along the lines of,
"Well, first I thought I hated her, then I realized I was attracted to her as soon as she got an awful boyfriend, then we became like friends, I guess? Then I just kind of never wanted to ever be away from her. I had a hard time picturing a future that she wasn't a part of. Like, it started to make me have this weird aching feeling in my chest. And now I want to tell her all of this but she like, sees me as a friend and has had a shit time with her male friends and I don't want to permanently traumatize someone I love."
There was definitely more beer spit into the air and on the floor than there was in anyone's mouth.
"What did you just say?!" His too schoolmates echoed loudly, while Pedri just stared at him in a shocked state.
Pablo's brain was swimming in beer bubbles, unable to connect any dots and make intelligent, let alone sit and explain the process and intricacies of figuring out that he was, in fact, in love with you. So he ignored the question, asking rather for advice as to how he could get you to come over to his house.
"I don't think she needs that much convincing, seeing as you guys literally sleep beside each other for the majority of the week."
"Pedri, please. Enough details. You're just going to sit here and casually tell us the doctor has been in Pablito's bed repeatedly and he has yet to ask her on a date? I might collapse if I hear another shocking piece of information." Ale exclaimed, one hand over his heart as he leaned over, Ansu above him in what appeared to be genuine distress for his cardiac health.
"Pablo," Pedri started, sitting up in his seat and placing his elbows on his shoulders, obviously meaning business. "Now it's time to exercise that one petite little romantic muscle in your body."
"Isn't every muscle in his body petite?" Ansu braced himself for the punch in the arm that he received, but it was softer than previous attacks. Maybe the alcohol was really hitting him.
"Does it bother you that she asked to come over?"
"No!" Pablo responded quicker than his teammates thought possible. "I always want her to come over. She doesn't even need to ask. I would give her a key to the place if she wanted. Hell, I would sign the house over in her name. Do you think I could ask her to move in with me as friends?" His foggy brain registered the laughter, but didn't quite understand it. He would love for you to be in his house, walking through the door with you every evening, eating on the couch, fighting over the comforter and cuddling in the cold.
"See now that's... kind of a lot for a girl who doesn't know you have feelings for her. Which is a whole separate issue of oblivion that we can address later. Let's edit it down. Hand me your phone."
[Pablito]: never too busy for you. see you in an hour ;)
You stared at the wink on your screen with wide eyes. Had Pablo's phone been hacked? He had sent emojis before, but usually when he was making a cheesy joke or mocking someone else. This was ... well you actually couldn't say. Calling this behavior 'weird' would really make everything you two did, like cuddling and sleeping over and trauma-dumping, seem 'weird' as well. The only time he had ever been so outwardly flirty with you was when...
[Doctora]: Pablo are you drunk?
[Doctora]: I'm coming over to kick ur ass
"I think I got you in trouble." Pedri said, sheepishly handing back the device. Pablo groaned, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol more strongly, head spinning and stomach churning at the thought of getting scolded by you. But something in him also burned at the idea of you getting worried about him when you weren't being paid for it.
"Alright boys, let's head out so Romeo can get back to the castle on time." Pedri ushered the three tipsy boys to the car, Ansu and Ale hunched over and giggling in the back, and Pablo slumped with a cheek pressed up against the passenger window.
"Wait! I just thought of something really important!" Ale practically yelled, leaning against the car in front of his place, Ansu waiting by the door to be let in for their own sleepover and gossip session (which may become a breakfast and gossip session given their current state).
"If the doctor tries to kiss him, will Pablo have to get on his tiptoes?"
The uproar of laughter was so loud it could be categorized as a public disturbance. Ale stood, mind foggy but genuine, watching Pedri clutch both the steering wheel and his ribs. Ansu was worse for wear, falling to his knees and gripping the sidewalk for dear life, all while Pablo gripped his head in pain and embarrassment.
"Ale, please, please open the door. I'm going to piss myself laughing from the mental image. Please, Ale."
"I'm actually taller than she is, just for everyone's information." The rebuttal was coupled with crossed arms and a pout.
"With or without shoes?" Ale's follow-up question set off another round of rambunctious laughter. Pablo was now properly tipsy and overly sensitive, and was ready to go home. Ale finally let go of the coop, preventing Ansu's public urination, and Pedri could finally make his way to Pablo's place. The green vehicle pulled into the driveway, and you followed just minutes later.
"Pedri, I'm worried."
The Canarian stared at the boy beside him. That's still what Pablo was. At his young age, he was bearing the back-breaking pressure of being the best right out of the gate, and soul-crushing weight of being in love. It was more than Pedri knew himself and many of his friends able to withstand. And though he understood the sentiment clearly, he asked anyways.
"What're you worried about?"
Pablo was many thing when he had a few drinks. He was noticeably louder, more vibrant and talkative. His usual shy self loosened up, and he was much more vulnerable. He did whatever he felt like: danced, flirted with women, made bets - anything he could imagine that would make him feel alive before the liquid courage wore off and he was back to silencing the bickering voices in his head.
"I'm worried that I'm going to say something stupid and scare her off."
"Ignore what people say online, hermano. You're not actually that scary." The giggle in return allowed Pedri to breathe a little easier. He tried to push away the twinge of guilt that reminded him he had been the one to pressure Pablo to drink, and he had been the one shoving this relationship forward at a faster pace than the participants may have liked.
"No I mean... even if the 1 in a million occurs and she gives me a chance, what if I come on too strong and kill it instantly? Can you come with me?" The request and the puppy-dog look both worked to catch Pedri off guard.
"Come with you to hang out with your girl?"
"You don't have to sit with us. You can fire up the PS5 and do whatever you want. But I won't tell her I want to grow old with her like the couple in The Notebook if you're in the house."
"You want to live out the plot of The Notebook with the doctora?"
"How did you know that?" Pablo asked with wide eyes, fully convinced that the older had read his mind.
"You just told me! How much alcohol did you actually have?" Pedri was now concerned. Could he not count? Pablo had only had three beers. He didn't remember him being such a lightweight, but it probably would explain a lot.
"Ugh, see! Pedri please, I need you. Just come with me!"
Before Pedri could protest again, a small knock was heard on Pablo's window, causing both the Barca boys to jump slightly.
"Ugh, fine. But only because your gameshock controller has never been thrown into a wall."
As the two stepped out of the car, your nose was instantly assaulted with the scent of alcohol and smoke. Pablo looked at you with a red face and slightly unfocused eyes.
"Doctora! Hey!" As he moved in to give you a hug, you stepped back from him, covering your nose with the sleeve of your (Gavi's) hoodie. You looked harshly at the boys, glare flipping between the two boys.
"I can't believe you asked me to come here while you're wasted. And you! What the hell do you think you're doing driving drunk?" You yelled, and Pedri ran forward to prevent the neighbors from hearing your misconception.
"I'm not drunk! I had one beer and waited more than an hour before driving. Pablo had three beers. We smell like shit because a waitress spilled a tray full of shots at the table. Let's continue arguing inside."
You looked at them skeptically, trying to find a smidge of deceit in either of their faces. Pablo approached you and draped an arm around your shoulder. Pressed up against you, it seemed like the smell of liquor dissipated, replaced by the last traces of his cologne and his own signature scent. Leaning down slightly, his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, sending shockwaves throughout your nervous system.
"Come on, Doctora. You know I'd never lie to you. Come inside now. I need to get in the shower."
Speechless and wide-eyed, you were helpless to do anything but nod your head and be lead back inside the house that you had come to know so well.
~
"I'm going to get in the shower. I think it will help me sober up a bit. And help me stop smelling like Kettle One."
"Oh."
"Don't seem so disappointed, Doctora. I'll only be gone for five minutes. You can wait for me on the balcony; you won't even miss me. Or if you really can't be without me for a single moment, I have a very large shower."
You had stared at Gavi in shock for the umpteenth time that evening, unable to process how he was being so... unadulterated with you. It reminded you of that very first night in the club, when he had stared you up and down and commended Angel on his ability to pick girls.
"Wait you have a balcony?"
That's what lead to your current situation: sitting with your knees pressed to your chest, breathing in the early April Catalan air, and staring at the beautiful view from the window. The street was illuminated in a soft yellow glow, people roaming with hands held and laughs exchanged. The moon was full, shining its beauty down onto the street, painting everything a soft silver color that contrasted with the hazes of gold. It was one of those moments you wish you could trap between plates of glass and visit at a moment's notice. One of those moments that reminded you how far you had come. That dream, that life you had worked, cried, and prayed for - you were in it right now.
The glass door slid open behind you, ending the trance as Pablo stepped out with more blankets over one arm and two mugs in hand. You took them from him, hands warmed as he draped a blue and red blanket (his favorite, unbeknownst to you) around your shoulders. He wrapped himself in a pale yellow one and took his seat next to you, legs also by his chest as he retrieved his steaming mug. Taking a sip, the thick liquid coated your tongue, sweet and rich and reminiscent of childhood.
"So you can't even boil an egg correctly, but you know how to make perfect Chocolate Caliente while tipsy? How does that make any sense?"
Turning to you, he took a pause. The wind gently pushed your hair back, allowing the moonlight to fully illuminate your eyes, and his already hazy mind struggled not to just let himself drown in them. He was beginning to sober up, but it was nowhere near how he wanted to be in your presence.
"It was my favorite breakfast as a kid. My dad used to take Aurora and I to have them for breakfast on the weekends. When I came to Barcelona, I didn't really have anyone to take care of me like that anymore, so I learned to make it myself." Pablo hadn't meant for this to be a sad story, but apparently his tone came across as such, demonstrated by your scooching over to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. No matter the cause, he accepted the invitation to lean against you, sharing your body warmth.
"Must've been hard for you, moving here alone." Your voice was far off, as if spoken to a different person and in a different time. Flashes played in your mind of teary goodbyes and security gates, only one of your parents caring enough to drive you to the airport.
"You know what it's like," Pablo responded. "You did the same thing." He wanted to life his head and look at you, but you move first, resting your temple against his, slotting perfectly together like a teacup that had found its saucer.
"Yeah but I was 18. You were what? 11?" Your voice is still heavy with a burden that Pablo can't understand. His parents had gone with him when he first moved - and you knew that. They had only gone back to Sevilla when Gavi, shy and petite little thing that he was (and remains) told them he was fine to stay in the dorm. He had made friends quick and been praised for his football skills quicker. His parents were only two hours away, and visited semi-frequently. Life at La Masia had been Disney Channel-esque. So why did you speak about it with the same somber tone as old war stories?
"I hate that you say 'I was 18' like it was a thousand years ago, Doctora."
Pablo could feel your cheeks form a wide smile, and wrapped an arm loosely around your waist as you leaned deeper into his orbit. Of all the times the two of you had been cuddly, this was quickly becoming his favorite. Because he wasn't holding you like a secret, in the dark of night when all you wanted to do was pass out. He could see you, here in his arms of your own free will, not running away, but rather leaning in. He got to sweep the hair from your eyes, and if he focused hard enough, the dull beat of your helping the tension dissipate from his bones.
It was moments like these when Pablo knew that he was wholly and completely in love. His heart didn't race around you anymore. It wa quite the opposite now: only when he was around you could his heart beat like it was intended. It felt full. Otherwise he was walking around with this tugging in his chest, begging him to drop everything and run to wherever you were. And once he arrived, he would tear the beating organ from his chest for you upon request. It was your property, anyways.
"But I was 18 like a century ago. I'm old and withered now Pablo. What you're doing now is taking care of the elderly."
His laugh in response made him fall forward, burying his head in your lap as you blushed profusely, laughter light and breathy as to not draw attention (or get him to move). His face pressed against one of your thighs, giggling a bit too hard at a very generic joke without a singular care in the world. He leans back slightly and places a kiss to your thigh, so quick and delicate you almost missed it.
"I'll always take care of you, Doctora. As long as you let me."
You couldn't bring yourself to speak at that moment, opting to instead bring a hand up to play with his hair. Gently, you wove your fingers through the locks, softly scratching at his head like the sleepy puppy he resembled in that moment.
Several minutes of comfortable silence elapsed before he spoke again.
"Remember the first time we met?"
"Vividly." The response came quickly and honestly from you, and you were banking on Pablo's slightly incapacitated state to prevent him mocking you. But it was one of those moments seared into your memory. The lights, the sweat, the deep urge to pull Pablo against you and kiss him until that perfect pout disappeared.
"You didn't think I was 18 then. It was a hard blow to my ego. I didn't want a pretty girl to think of me as a child. But now, I'm glad we met when we did."
Soft music floated in the air towards the balcony, the performers a few streets over finishing off the night with something soft and romantic to tug on the heartstrings of passing couples in hope of separating them from some Euros. Gavi lifted his head, body following shortly as he stood. He held out a hand to help you to your feet as well. "Come and dance with me." Rising, Pablo never released your hand from his, pulling you in as close as possible, keeping you pressed to him with one arm. He began swaying and you followed his lead, now your turn to rest your head on his shoulder and simply enjoy the euphoria of being in his arms. His breath was next to your ear, raising the flesh on your neck with every exhale, before finally saying,
"Because in the future when we're real senior citizens, I get to tell people I've known you my entire adult life."
You faltered slightly, stopping Gavi in his tracks as he met your eyes. God, those eyes. If only you knew the power they had over a certain Sevillano.
"You think I'll still be around when you're an old man?" You asked, trying to stay light and airy and nonchalant as your heart hammered against the confines of your ribcage.
"Of course, Doctora. Where else would you be other than beside me?"
This was it. This was the moment. You were dancing on his balcony in his hoodie as he told you that he never wanted you to leave his side. This was the time to agree, to jump and have those strong arms catch you as you said those three words that could show you the gates of heaven or the depths of hell. You traced shaking fingers down one of his biceps, eyes meeting as with ragged breath you began.
"Pablo..."
The response was the sound of the glass door being shoved open, causing the two of you to jump a foot apart. Pedri stood there, cheeks flushed like when Xavi played him all 120 minutes.
"Pablito!! You had a case of beer in the fridge to reward me for being the DD!" This man was on another planet, bringing you back down to earth.
"You should get him to bed. I need to get going anyways."
"No!" The protest was louder than anticipated, startling both you and Pedri, who had gotten bored of playing sober FIFA and may have over-indulged when Pablo's balcony date with you entered its second hour.
"I mean, I'll get him to bed. You haven't told me your story yet. I would hate for you to leave without finishing the reason why you came. Wait for me on the couch, I'll be five minutes."
There was a pause, almost a reluctance from you to break the strong eye contact. He knew that there was something else you wanted to say. There was always something left unsaid between the two of you. He watched your form disappear down the stairs as he guided Pedri to his room (he didn't want his soon-arriving sister to sleep on dirty sheets). "You have the worst timing imaginable, hermano." Pablo muttered out, blood boiling at how the evening had gone from 200 back down to zero in a matter of seconds. When did he even put a case of beer in the fridge? Neither of you were drinkers. His fridge was always stocked with every delight and craving you had mentioned in passing.
"You told me to make sure you didn't say anything stupid." Pedri responded, making Gavi squint at him in suspicion. He must have not as been as out of it as he let on.
"Yeah but I think she- nevermind. Go to sleep."
"Calm down Pablito. It's not like I interrupted your first kiss."
Forcing himself to take a deep, self-soothing breath, Pablo turned from his inebriated friend and shut the door.
Making your way to the living room, you once again filled your senses with the boyish football decor of the living room. Checking to make sure he wasn't coming down the stairs, you sped over to the front door. The pictures on the wall remained as they were previously: childhood, family, football. Your heart sank slightly at the thought of your Christmas present sitting ripped and crumpled at the bottom of his club-issued backpack. You turned back into the living room, making your way to the couch.
Flopping on the soft material, you kicked your feet up on the table, glancing over to look at his obnoxiously large Barca book. And there, sitting on top of it, was a simple black frame, slightly dented in one corner like it had been dropped. The frame held the two of you, angry and standoffish and forever frozen in that moment before the floodgates had been irreversibly opened. He had framed it. Pablo Gavi, the busiest boy in football right now, had decided you were worth the frame and the position front and center on his favorite book.
"So, what was so groundbreaking you needed to see my reaction in person?" His question snapped you out of your trance, and you sprung up from your place on the sofa, needing to get the photo out of your field of vision for your own sanity. Making a B-line to the fridge, the cold was inviting to your flushed face. Fruit, bread, cheese, cold cuts - no Spanish boys here. Just the comfort of food.
"Do you want a sandwich?"
~
"There's no way you said that to her! Who are you and what have you done with the Doctora I know?" Despite his reprimand, the beautiful boy before you joined in the fits of giggles that had taken over you. Having deprived yourself of a decent meal for the last week due to work (they had finally handed over all of Antonio's medical notes and they were in shambles), you fixed yourself and Pablo the most impressive sandwich you had ever conjured in your adult life. After filling his arms with every possible accompaniment, he plopped himself beside you on the couch, crossing his legs so his knee rested against yours. Before he got comfortable, he jumped up, stating he had forgotten something.
"I got these for you." The jar he placed on the table was filled with green liquid, and as you leaned in closer to inspect the label, your eyes lit up.
"You... bought me a jar of pickles?"
"Yeah. Remember one time you said you liked them so I got these. They look like the same jar." That's when you let yourself burst into tears.
The hour following had been you and Pablo in various states: his arm around you as you cried into his shoulder about how shit the people in your life had been, then hunched over plates stuffing your faces and joking around, and finally the current one of eating pickles and chips and whatever else was on the table as you recounted your demonic phone call.
"I did but like I've wanted to say it to her for months now! You don't understand, Pablo, because you're friends with the amazing, caring, thoughtful being that is me." More giggles as he shoved a pillow into you, smile so bright it could light up the entire first floor. He was never afraid to be like this around you: silly and playful and just comfortable.
"La la Doctora, ladies shouldn't use such foul language." It was your turn to shove his shoulder, probably causing you more damage than him due to the rock-solid muscle.
"Thanks papa, appreciate the advice. But like seriously, she asked me to drive her to Madrid one weekend - as in like Madrid five hours away - to go to a specific store. You know what she bought there? Buttons. 10 hours of my life and a hell of a lot of gas so she could get buttons! And it's not like I expected anything in return-"
"No of course not. It's just when you do nice things for people and are kind to them, you want them to act the same. Treat others how you want to be treated." Pablo bit his tongue there, scared he would sound immature or stupid. You were several years his senior in age and education, and the last thing he wanted was for you to water-down your feelings because you thought he wouldn't understand.
"Right?! See, you get it! And I just, ugh, I feel kinda bad because like she didn't really do anything directly. Like yeah her show and stuff but there wasn't really a moment or like a fallout." You moved towards Pablo, leaning on his shoulder as the moment took a more serious turn.
"But that's the whole point isn't it? That she didn't do anything, she was just kind of there and reaping all the benefits of friendship with no effort. And-"
"Doctora, can I interrupt you for a minute?" You felt Pablo's shoulder dip slightly, and disappointed as you were, took the sign to lift your head.
"Sorry I didn't mean to take over your personal sp-"
"Ay shut up about my personal space. I'd handcuff you to me if I had the chance." He quickly looked away from you, processing his comment after he had said it. Nice one Gavito - real friendly. He moved some of the cushions to the end of the couch by the arm rest, kicking off the more decorative ones and leaning down. Honey eyes looked at you between thick lashes, and patted the narrow sliver of space beside him. Rolling his eyes at the confused raising of your brow, he verbalized his request.
"Come lay next to me while you rant."
Oh. Oh. Had he ever asked you outright to cuddle with him? The first time, you had been the instigator. You had taken that leap off the bridge - no, the cliff - and yet there he had been, warm and welcoming, catching you with grace. Ever since then, there had really been no words. Talking about his desires and feelings didn't come naturally to Pablo, and so he steered clear of them all together. It was always something unspoken: he would be at your apartment and just follow you down the hall when you declared it to be bedtime. Or when you had spent too much time at the Gavira house watching reruns of the same telenovela, and Gavi just switched the TV off and guided you up the stairs. No matter the location it was always the same. Him on the right side, you on the left, but both magnetically drawn to the center and one another. You slotted into his side, head on his heart, and stabilized by his embrace. Sometimes he wore a shirt - most times he didn't. He hugged you a little closer whenever you were in his clothing, trying to dispense his scent onto it anew and make sure you would think of him whenever there was a breeze. But there were never words. Only feelings and longing gazes and that same settled silence.
"You want me to?"
"Why would I ask if I didn't want you to? Last time you fell asleep on my shoulder you almost broke your neck. Now if you fall asleep you will only be semi-sore in the morning. I mean you don't have to if you-"
"No. I mean yes. I mean no I don't not want to do that."
"Is your Spanish getting worse or did that make no sense?"
You sighed in defeat, laying beside Pablo on the couch, sinking into the fabric and into him. One of his arms was acting as your pillow, and his hand made its way upwards to softly play with your hair, an instant soother. Body turning inwards toward him, your arms were up and palms gently pressed to his chest.
"Am I too close?" You asked, Pablo's previous comment about wanting to be physically attached to you seemed to have evaporated from your mind. His second arm fell around your waist, pulling you closer in. Your thigh was now pressed between his legs, and you both seemed to hold your breath for a moment. The alarms went off in his brain while his eyes held yours. He just stared at you. That's all he ever really wanted to do nowadays. He unfroze and shook his head before prompting you to continue your story.
"Oh, right - where was I?"
"She never put any effort into the relationship."
"Oh, right." You sat up to grab one of the blankets, draping the warmth on the tangled mess of limbs, and laying back down. It was not lost on you that Pablo, despite all the jokes, had listened intently to every word you had said. Nothing Pablo did, from the way he shifted his misaligned hips to his soft breathing to the way his fingers traced shapes in your side, was ever lost on you.
"So..." and on continued your rant for about an hour. It was a different kind of catharsis to speak about your pain and receive empathy in response. To be told that the feelings poisoning your spirit were ones that had been planted and could be weeded out. It was a relief that also brought about a tiredness, where once your emotions were freed, your eyelids grew substantially heavier. But the fingers remained soothing against your hair, twisting and smoothing the locks. He pushed a few stray pieces from your face, smiling at the sleepy state on your face.
"Excited for this last month of the season?" The short international break had allowed for the season to be neatly wrapped up by the first week of May, with the Champions League final and awards ceremonies following directly after.
"Mhm," you hummed back, eyes now fully closed and cheek pressed against Pablo's warm skin. "But it's not really a month for me. It's more like a week left of the season. Copa Del Rey in three days, then you score a screamer in the net at home to win La Liga three days later. Once the season is decided, I'm back at school for practical exams." The vibration in his chest reverberated throughout your entire being, and your semi-sleeping form nuzzled deeper into Pablo, which neither of you thought possible. Fingers tightened around the semi-exposed skin of your waist, and he felt a sensation akin to weilding fire at will. Knowing full well the flames could engulf him in a torturous inferno, but oh how beautiful to hold and let dance at the tips of his fingers.
"So we have two more matches with you?"
"Three if you choke again and let the other borderline relegation team score three goals." He tugged lightly at your hair as a reprimand, your smile spreading against his neck.
"I wasn't even on the field for the full 90 minutes last game. Don't worry, we're bringing home both trophies this week. And you're getting that screamer of a goal. Make sure to record it so I can gloat forever." A gentle nod and a hum, but the sleep was slowly seeping into your senses.
"So after that, what? What's next?"
"Well you already know that Xavi offered me a permanent position for when I graduate next year. So I'm at the club on automatic placement renewal. He he I was the first one in my class to get it."
"Of course you were, Doctora. You're the best there is." Warm cheeks yet again. Pablo must think you're a natural furnace, not realizing that his sticky sweet compliments were always triggering the "Heart Overheating" alarms in your mind.
"You think too highly of me. I'll see you when you come back for preseason medicals and training. They might let me run it this year. Oh, and at the Bondor. I'll be there, too."
"At the what?"
"The Bondor." You repeated, unaware of how much you were mumbling as you drifted in and out of consciousness.
"Slow down for me, Doctora. One word at a time. Where will I see you?"
"Ballon. D'or." You repeated for the third time as slowly as possible. It was too hard to stay awake now, and let yourself slip fully into the depth of relaxation, tangled in a web of warm Pablo, basking in this moment where you could just rest contently.
Pablo on the other hand was now on high alert. There had been a lot of commotion in the club when the nominations were announced. Pedri had pulled up the livestream on the projector, the entire squad waiting with baited breath for the categories of interest. There mutters all around about how the whole ceremony was a scam and had royally screwed over Robert, but who was going to turn down the honor? You had seen the stampede (led of course by Luca, who was always at the head of any effort to get out of doing his job) and followed quickly, afraid someone else had passed out. The players had been pushing themselves to stay miles above Madrid in the league, and it was taking a real toll. You looked up at the ceiling as you speed-walked, praying that everyone (especially Dembele) was okay. You would really like a calm week.
"Now, the nominees for the Kopa Trophy, awarded to the best player under 21 years of age..."
Ansu caught your eye as you entered and waived you over, instructing you to sit with him and the other young Barca boys. Gavi had been given a seat in the middle, the throne of the meeting room, as the murmurs circulated once again. You hadn't been aware that Pablo was a contender for this award - not surprised, but your schedule didn't allow you to keep on on Twitter as you once had. You wrung your fingers, heart hammering as the presenter spoke with that slow TV drawl that made everyone want to commit arson.
"Jude Bellingham, Jamal Musiala, Bukayo Saka, Eduardo Camavinga, Gavi-"
You were sure there were other nominees, but the shouts of joy and thunderous claps on Gavi's shoulders prevented any more information from entering your ears. The coaching staff and older players commended him on the achievement, and you had to wait until the room was essentially cleared to stick out your hand and offer a congratulatory message.
"Are we doing handshakes now?" He asked, eyes flitting between you and Pedri's gossip circle occupying the far corner.
"It feels more professional. This is a professional achievement after all."
""I haven't achieved anything yet." He said shaking your hand firmly and lingering much longer than was appropriate for the workplace (and 'friends').
"What are you talking about? You've been nominated! That's huge in itself given that a lot of your teammates also qualify for that award."
"Yeah but Pedri snatched it last year. They won't hand it over to the same club two years in a row."
"Doesn't Messi have like 27 Ballon D'ors in a row?"
"Please don't use Leo as an example. I am just a regular human being." As the two of you made your way into the hall, out of the line of sight of Pedri's tea spilling team, the laughter and teasing died down. You turned to Pablo, bringing one hand to rest on his arm, smoothing the fabric of his training jacket with your fingers as you looked up at him.
"You're a brilliant player, Pablo. One of the best this club has ever seen. You are incredible and have the brightest future ahead of you, and I just hope I get to be a part of it. That award it yours - I can feel it. But even if it isn't, don't sell yourself short. You amaze me every day."
This was the best news since his promotion to the first team. He had been pushing the Paris trip to the far recesses of his brain, a bout of nausea and anxiety striking him every time he conjured the thought of walking down that carpet or speaking on stage. But now you were going to be there. You would see him in the finest suit D&G would lend him, hair perfectly gelled down (he would need a trim). And he let himself ever so briefly entertain the fantasy of you watching him win. Of the announcer calling out his name, the crowd rising to their feet in deafening applause as he accepted the trophy from Pedri. He would look out into the crowd and see you there, sending a wink your way before thanking everyone who helped him achieve this, especially the medical staff. He drifted off to sleep replaying this scenario in his head, a trophy in one arm and the girl of his dreams in the other.
Pedri woke up with a minor headache in the morning, sunlight pouring through the large windows directly into his eyes. He would be buying Pablo some blackout curtains for Christmas. Descending from his place, he walked across it: a real sight to behold. You and Gavi were tangled together on the couch, legs an absolute mess with the blanket pooled around them. Your head was on his chest, face nuzzled upward into his neck. Your hands were fisting his shirt, as if afraid someone would rip him from your clutches. Pablo wasn't much better. He had his arms wrapped around you, one on the back of your head and one around your waist. He had managed to pull you on top of him in the night, his back flat on the sofa and your weight pooled on his chest and bringing him tranquility. His lips rested against your forehead, his face perfectly positioned with yours. He held you tight against him, and your unconscious form rose and fell with each of his deep and even breaths. Despite his best efforts, Pedri couldn't stop himself from snapping a picture of the moment. Thank God his ringer was always off. He did have enough self restraint to prevent him from sharing the photo with his group chat with Ansu, Ale, Eric, and surprisingly Robert (he just likes to be included). The name had changed numerous times in the last several months, and was now simply called "friendship" my ass for obvious reasons. He knew this would be a picture Pablo and you would look back on fondly when one was finally courageous enough to just let go. But until then, it sat safely in his hidden folder, and he tiptoed out the door, sparing one last look at the pair of you, sleeping more deeply than well-fed toddlers. The tension in Pablo's face was gone. Pedri hoped it would stay that way.
~
"And we are just minutes from kicking off what could be the league-winning match for Barcelona here in Spotify Camp Nou! Set to be an exciting game against Atletico Madrid, and the crowd is absolutely on fire."
"Just as well, Peter. I mean Barcelona have the ability to make this an incredible three trophy season right here today. They're coming off a massive win against Sevilla in the Copa Del Rey final, at home for what could be the league winner, and the performances we're going to see today are going to be full energy full power now that the Ballon D'Or nominee list has been announced."
"That's right we have Robert Lewandowski shortlisted for the titular award after two incredible seasons at Bayern Munich. We also have Pedri potentially passing the 'Golden Boy' torch onto his fellow midfielder Gavi, who has had an absolutely stellar season."
"Who can forget about that performance in the Supercopa, Peter. Three goal contributions in a Classico no less, the likes of which we haven't seen since Leo Messi stepped up to the plate, and we all know how that played out. He's really been putting in amazing performances week after week, and the most surprising thing is the level of health Barca have been able to maintain. For a team riddled with injuries all of last season, it is a miracle turnaround. Kick off right here after the break."
The tunnel was always busy right before kick off, but today it was quadruple-fold. You weren't sure if Barca was just extra confident in a victory today, but the media passes had tripled, and everyone was eager to get candids of the young blaugrana boys. You were pushing through people's shoulders, 'excuse-me' shifting very quickly into 'get out of the way' as you made your way to the players line up to adjust resistance tape and back braces. You were in the official physio uniform today, Nike jacket hugging your skin and tucked neatly into your trousers. The entire staff had been gifted with a new pair of cleats with the date on one side and a number of their choice on the other.
"I'm assuming 6 for you?" You had been caught off guard by the assumption from the brand rep.
"Why would you assume that? Have other players been telling you things about me?" You must have looked genuinely afraid and shocked, as the rep raised his hands in innocence, face going pale.
"No no no. I have absolutely no idea who you are. You have a 6 on your hoodie, so I thought you would want something to match."
It was discreet, a small black number on the back of your heel, and yet it was the only thing that Gavi could see as you worked to adjust Frenkie's shoulder. Did all of you have numbers? Were they in order, yours just happening to fall in the 6th position? Were there even 6 people on the physio team? His eyes stayed on your shoes until they were in front of his. He looked up to meet you raised brow.
"Why are you staring? Your shoes are nicer than mine."
Turning around, he let you test his hip alignment as he allowed himself to speak away the nerves buzzing throughout his system.
"Think we're going to win?"
"I always think you're going to win. I'm just waiting for that incredible goal you promised last week."
"What, the three goal contributions in the Supercopa weren't enough for you? You have high standards, Doctora."
"Of course. That was back in January. It's April now, Pablo. I want you to make my last game good." As you released him from your grip, he turned to face you, putting both hands on your shoulders. A few players turned their heads, but only for a cursory glance.
"If I score today, you let me pick you up as a celebration."
"Are you allowed to do that?"
"Who's going to stop me?"
"One of your fangirls might dive onto the field and tackle me."
"I have faith in you, Doctora. You seem like a fast runner."
"Always nice to have your unwavering support. Deal. Better be a good goal."
"A screamer."
You moved onto Pedri, who was next in the numerical line up, and his eyebrows did all the talking for him. You muttered a quick 'good luck' before continuing your duties in the remaining minutes before they walked out for the match.
"What a friendly little deal you've made, hermano." He leaned over and said, but the players began walking before Pablo could respond. Post -anthem, you took your place on the sidelines, jittery from the electric energy ricocheting around the stadium. No Joao for Gavi to shove around, but Griezmann was going to be a problem. The first half was rough and fast-paced, but remained scoreless. As the players came off for half time, you were instructed to help out the ones with high muscle tension. Passing Pablo, you placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke into his ear, quick and soft: "Looks like I'm staying seated all game."
Pablo turned just in time to watch you scamper off, a smirk on his lips. Pablo loved a challenge, and it was all the better to have it come from you. He had a couple opportunities during the first half, but he was scared of getting fouled too early on. Now was the time were he was able to push, with the anxiety from the beginning of the game shaken off. He tuned back into Xavi's pep talk and instructions for the second half, lips still upturned.
The media was always puffing up players, but it was true that Pedri was a magician with the ball. There was something captivating about the way he calmly danced between players, maneuvering skillfully. A pass to Araujo, then back to him. The roar of the crowd was dulled by the thrum of your heart and the snapping as you bit at your nails in anticipation. The boys had been pressing hard, and a score seemed eminent. Pedri lifted his head, looking for his striker. Lewa was locked up on the right. It seemed the moment to move back, alleviate the press and recalculate. But then a flash of blue and red streaked across his vision and his foot reacted faster than his brain. Minute 85, a scoreless game, and a ball crossed high and fast towards the menace that was Gavi. His foot connected in the far left corner of the box and there it went, screaming past the goalie's fingertips before nestling in the top corner of the net.
An explosion. You were the slowest person to react, slack jawed as the other physios shoved and shook you in celebration. Hands coming to his chest, he gripped the crest like it was a crown jewel, looking right as you as he brought it to his lips, kissing it with a force and passion that had flowed in him since he was 11 years old. He ran towards you, teammates following swiftly, and suddenly there were arms around your thighs as he lifted you. He bounced you in the air as his teammates clapped him on the shoulders, congratulating him and showering him with the well-deserved praise. You looked down, hands rested on Pablo's shoulders. His gaze was locked with yours. you wanted to tease him or commend him but there were no words. He released you, pointing at ou before taking his position.
They lifted the trophy shortly after, the players looking like children as they danced and sang in a circle. The players all took their turns squeezing the living daylights out of you.
"Doctora!" It was Dembele who called out to you, waving you over. Under the watchful eyes of his coaches, Gavi was more careful not to get too close to you (even though he had just Lion-King lifted you during the game).
"Come take a picture with all your patients and their trophy!" The request was made with laughs all around as you stood behind the trophy, Ousmane on one arm and Pedri on the other. Balde and Ansu got into the photo as well, arms all around each other.
"Gavi! Get in here! You're the one with the most clinic hours." Ousmane called out to him as well. He blushed as he walked (waddled) over, stopping to pick up the trophy and dropping it into your hands.
"This is your achievement too, Doctora. You should be proud." Pedri shoved him in beside you, claiming it helped 'balance the photo'. The flash went off twice. Once with Pablo paying attention to the camera, smiling brightly having just won MOTM in their league decider. The second was almost identical, but his head was turned to you. The smile was softer, the eyes kinder. He looked at you like the ultimate prize. As he said his goodbyes to you, promising not to miss you too much in the month you would be seperated, he realized one thing: he was going to need more frames.
~
@gaviraconcubine: ok i thot it was stupid but maybe gavi is actually w his physio???? just look at them
1,272 Likes 677 Retweets 385 Replies
@blaugranaboy: if you FEMALES knew anything, you would know barca has had shit physios and is always getting injured. since she came on staff they staying healthy. i would pick her ass up to
@barbiebalde: @blaugranaboy *too. Sexist AND bad english? pick a struggle
@88rizzing: ok but theres also pics of her out with pedri at a prada store so idk anymore???????
@gavitaylorsversion: her instagram is private :( can someone drop clearer pictures of her
You had been through some difficult situations in the last ten months, but these practical exams were the biggest challenge you had faced in your existence. 8am to 8pm lectures for two weeks, followed by a week straight of performing concussion protocols, lifting stiff boards, and demonstrating a whopping 6 different types of sutures had finally come to an end. It was May 5th, the final day of your exams, and three days before your flight to Paris for the ceremony. Your phone had been discarded for practically the entirety of the month, logged out of all social media and having your focus set to only let through emergency calls (and, of course, texts from Pablo). They had been less frequent given his understanding of your schedule.
[Pablito]: i know you have stitches today. Good luck <3
[Pablito]: Kounde asked about you today. He hasn't realized you've been missing the last two weeks. He really isn't on this planet
[Pablito]: the finale of our show came on last night. I recorded it so we can watch it together after your exams.
And now the most recent one had come through:
[Pablito]: Congrats on surviving the epic battle of your practical exams. I sent you dinner. Have a great night!
The doorbell rang in some scary accurate timing, and you graciously accepted the package from the delivery driver. Sitting on your couch to watch any comedic show that would help you decompress. The bag was huge, and seemingly filled to the brim with containers. Pasta, pizza, two types of bread, fried chicken, and three slices of cake (chocolate, cheesecake, and tres leches). There was also a bottle of sugar-free soda, for balance apparently. As you picked up your phone to ask Pablo if you were meant to feed the whole building, another text popped up on your screen.
[Santa Naranja]: Hi! I'm not sure if you remember me, but I'm the stylist who worked with Pedro for his Prada shoot? I got this number from him. You should yell at him for giving out your number so easily.
[Santa Naranja]: Anyways, I just got the list for the Ballon D'Or ceremony and I saw your name on there. How exciting! My company is styling Barca for the event, and I wanted to reach out personally to see what you would be interested in wearing.
[Santa Naranja]: Because I'm assuming you don't want to be in a suit? But I could be wrong.
You replied instantly, telling her how grateful you were for contacting you. You had been planning on wearing one of your old wedding-guest dresses, not having the time to go pick up something else. The two of you arranged to meet tomorrow at her studio, and you went back to your original mission: snapping a picture and sending it to Gavi.
He opened the message instantly, feeling all warm and fuzzy staring at the food spread on your lap and his old shirt hanging off your shoulders. You hair was up, face bare, and he wanted to reach through the phone and kiss you on the forehead.
[Doctora]: thanks for the food, pablito <3 see u in paris
"Ouch!" He yelled out, taken out of his daydream by a needle shoved into his wrist. "Pedri! Tell your friend to be gentle."
"First of all, we're not friends-"
"We're not?" Pedri asked the stylist, the smoke practically rising from her ears. She glared at him, looking extra menacing with the pins between her teeth.
"No. We're not. You're only allowed to be here if you're silent, remember? And second of all we are tailoring your suit sleeves. You're going to get stabbed if you keep moving your arms! Now hold still. She's still going to be there in 15 minutes for you to gush over."
"How did you know who I was talking to?" Pablo asked, genuine shock and curiosity across his features.
"Oh please, for the love of God, don't tell me you think you're being subtle?!"
~
"Hi! Come in come in! I didn't even realize it was raining."
Santa Naranja was, as you had recently discovered, not just Pedri's stylist. She wasn't even a Prada stylist. She was now a senior assistant stylist for Style Di Fortuna, a global firm that worked to style celebrities for different events. Since Herno and D&G started dressing the club, management had received official notice regarding their event attire.
"You should have seen the letter they sent. It was like a scolding from the school principal. 'Players must be formally and professionally styled during all official events as to avoid conflict in brand image and the tarnishing of the brand's respectability. Can you imagine dressing so poorly that you could ruin the reputation of an entire brand? Although I shouldn't expect any less. Pedro's jorts could bring about doomsday."
It was the other girls in the office that had given her the nickname 'Santa' for her saint-like patience in dealing with Pedri for... reasons. She was a completely different person when his cheshire cat smile and bushy brows were not in the room. She was calm and fun and humorous. She scurried around the workshop, pouring you a cup of cinnamon tea loaded with sugar, before running back into a warehouse closet and throwing about twenty garment bags over her arms.
"Did you have anything in mind for your look? I know that the club must have given you some basic guidelines, but what about your personal style?"
"Oh yeah, they came with the invitation. Long skirt, no slit, no trains, no plunging necklines, no open backs, no beading or gems, no appliques, and no bright colors."
The poor stylist stopped in her tracks, returning virtually every dress she had in her hands.
"Okay, let's go to the nun section of the closet. What colors would you like? Keep them boring and muted." You giggled at the remark, rattling off a list of colors. She either hummed in agreement or gave a slight pause, allowing you time to retract the wrong choice. Green, red, and white were all off the table, seeing as the wags had already claimed them.
"What's Gavi's favorite color?" She teased, shoving a garment bag at you and ushering you behind the separator to change.
"Haha, very funny. I'm not going as his date."
"You can add the 'unfortunately' to the end of that. I won't judge you."
"Sure. It's unfortunate I'm not Pablo's date in the same way it's unfortunate that you're not Pedri's."
"Please don't speak such wicked thoughts about me and Pedro into the universe."
After cycling through about 15 dresses, the weight of the event and the pressure of traveling in two days was beginning to weigh on you, a tightness settling into your chest and disrupting your breathing.
"I'm going to look so stupid at this event. Nothing looks good." You huffed as you resisted the urge to face plant into the million euro pile of fabric on the floor. Your companion huffed as well, racking her brain for any guidance on how to dress you without making you look like a churchly sister or a plastic bag.
"Okay. Do you know anything about fashion?" She asked. Her tone was soft and delicate, like a kindergarten teacher asking a poor 6-year old if they knew how to tie their shoes.
"I try and keep up."
"If you could pick any look from the last like 10 years on the runway that you would wear to this event, what would it be?"
"I can't afford-"
"Not telling you to buy it. Just imagine. If you could wish a dress into your hands right now, what would it be?"
You sat and thought for a moment. It had been a long time since you separated yourself from the imposed masculine nature of your job. Your hair stayed up, your nails stayed short, your face always painted naturally (you had gotten dress-coded for winged eyeliner once). It had been years if not a complete decade since you allowed your thoughts to be pink and flowery. You had put girlhood on pause, allowed it to hibernate for the harsh winter war of professional success. But now it was spring, and the blossoms emerged once again. You weren't a physio going for a meeting. You were a princess preparing for her magical night in Paris, your fairy standing before you. This was one of those moments where you just had to take a pause. You had worked to hard to make it here. Now that you were here, enjoy it.
"Well, Viktor and Rolf had the most gorgeous tulle dresses ad fashion week. They were all strapless and tight at the top, and they had these beautiful full skirts and velvet ribbons. If I was a wag or a footballer accepting my own award, I would wear that." You said, still allowing the rose color of your imagination to tint your reality. You entertained the thought briefly that this is the first time Pablo would see you properly dolled up, and it made you want to squeal and kick your feet like a girl waiting for prom.
"Oh my God you're so smart!" She yelled, running back into the dark passage of the closet. She returned a moment later with a black fabric bag, gold filigree embossed onto the material. She hung and began to unzip, unveiling the most beautiful dress you had ever seen in your life. It was a pale nude, almost the color of beach sand, with a fitted corset top that came down to the top of the hip bone. It then flares slightly into a layered tulle skirt, the color solid except for one band of pale blue that wrapped around the skirt, the waist accentuated with a velvet bow in the same dusty blue. You reached out one shaking hand to smooth down the fabric, almost afraid it would disintegrate in your touch. (dress inspo for those interested)
"Bouguessa just sent us this. It's more subtle than the Viktor and Rolf ones, it goes with gold and silver jewelry, won't draw too much attention, and follows that ridiculous novel of rules." She said, hands on her hips behind you.
"I can't wear this." You said, trembling at the very thought of spilling a drop of... well anything really on this dress.
"You can and you will. We had it shorted for some actress wearing it in Cannes later this month, so wear nice shoes. Nothing too tall though - Pablo is 5'7 after all." You turned to her, and the face she had expected to smile back at her held eyes welling with tears. You pulled her against you, too fast for her to process, and let the tears stream down your cheeks.
"I have never had anyone be so kind to me. I can't thank you enough."
"I'm just letting you borrow a dress," she said, arms wrapping around you as well. "Do you not have friends?"
"Let's not open that can of worms."
~
"Hi, Dr. Gonzalez. You wanted to see me?" Your head peaked in ever so slightly to catch his hand waving you over. Despite knowing on a deep psychological level that he respected you as a professional, he still scared the bejeezus out of you.
"Yes. I forgot to give you your passes for tonight's flight. You'll be able to use this to get directly into the lounge and then on the jet we have chartered this evening."
"The... what?"
"How were planning on getting to Paris exactly, Miss y/n?" He took off his small glasses, a gesture to emphasize how stupid you were being at the present.
"I was going to take the train in tomorrow?" You responded extremely unsure of yourself.
"Take the train in the morning of the ceremony? Oh this generation. No foresight. You'll meet the team in the lounge at exactly 8pm this evening."
"So what I'm hearing is... I'm going on the private jet with Xavi and the squad?"
"Yes."
"And my accomodation..?"
"You will have a room in the hotel on the same floor as the rest of the team. Any other logistical questions? Do I need to explain what the Ballon D'Or is?"
"No, no, of course not. Thank you so much Dr. Gonzalez. I'll be sure to represent Barca well as an organization that loves women!" You got up hastily from your chair, exiting the office with Dr. Gonzalez yelling behind you.
"We didn't send you because you're a woman! Don't say that to any reporters!"
The Barcelona airport was, in your opinion, nothing special. That was until the woman at the check-in desk saw your badge and personally guided you past security and into a private Air France lounge. The room was decked out in plush sofas and chaise lounges, soft spa music bouncing between the walls. Enough food to feed the entire terminal had been laid out on stone and marble platters, and three girls in matching dark blue uniforms strolled around the room, waiting to be flagged down for assistance. This was nice. Maybe gold digging was really the best choice. It's a miracle that not everyone on the quad had Ferran-sized heads if this was the treatment they were used to.
"Ay look who finally made it." The voice greeting you belonged to Xavi, who was the first to stand up and embrace you. You greeted the rest of the group and introduced yourself to both Xavi and Robert's wives, thinking it more appropriate to sit with the other women on the trip. You chatted with them until it was time to board, at which point you could no longer exercise self control. You walked up to Pablo, tapping him on the shoulder.
He couldn't suppress his smile when he saw you, and Anna whispered to her husband how you had not introduced yourself as Gavi's girlfriend.
"Well, they're not together. She's a physio at the club."
"He looks at her like he's in love."
"Yeah. Everyone has noticed except the two of them."
Fighting the urge to stuff you into his hoodie so you could never disappear for a month again, Pablo opted to instead put one arm around you, embracing you in a tight side hug. You two walked onto the plane together, effectively abandoning Pedri, while catching up on everything that had gone on since your last meeting. He sat beside you on one of the couches, spinning around to lay with his legs on top of you, which were swiftly pushed off. The two of you now sat side by side, eating from a bag of sour gummies.
"I missed you." He said softly as you watched Barcelona grow smaller and smaller beneath you. You turned back to him resting your head on his shoulder. "I missed you too. A lot more than I thought I would." There was no more talk after that. No mention of feelings or trophies or anything really. Just sour bears and that telenovela finale he promised to watch with you.
The clock in the hotel lobby read 11:44pm as you fought with Pablo to try and carry your own bag in. Well, fought is a vague term - you tugged on his bicep while he dragged you and your suitcase inside.
"We're only here for two days - what on Earth could you have brought?" He asked, letting out an exaggerated huff as he set it down on its wheels.
"Makeup is heavy, my dress is heavy, my shoes are heavy - society's beauty standards are just weighing me down at every turn." He smiled back at you, your fingers itching to pinch his cheeks and kiss him on the tip of his nose and tell him that he had a smile that could bring cities to their knees.
"Pedri! Gavi!"
You turned around to the source of the voice, watching Pedri embrace a very tall and very familiar Spaniard. As he made his way over to Gavi, he gave you a once over that indicated his brain was still trying to figure out who you were. As his hand connected with Gavi's, it was like the electricity had switched back on.
"Oh, hey! You came and interviewed at Chelsea. Convince her to stay then, hermanito?" he clapped Gavi on the back of the neck.
"No, I didn't have to say anything. She spent an afternoon with you guys and came running back to the better club." You smiled shyly, feeling a little awkward at your once potential club interacting with the one you had chosen to stay at. You stepped to the side, noticing Perdi deep in conversation with someone else. Tan, tall, and beautiful, he turned to you, smiling wide and approaching.
"Ah hello again." You were in a hug before you knew it. You reciprocated, wishing one of the boys would take a photo so you could send it to ever girl in your high school.
"Joao! Great to see you again. How have you been?" He pulled away, hands still on your upper arms as he ranted to you about his difficult second half of the season had been. Pablo sat back, loosely listening to the exchange between Pedri and Kepa, with most of his energy focused on seething at the sight in front of him. Joao had talked to you for what? An hour? Why did he feel so comfortable touching you like this? His tongue found purchase in his cheek, his arms crossed over his chest. Xavi tapped him on the shoulder to hand him the key cards for your three, giving him a perfect excuse to break up your conversation.
"Here you go, Doctora. This one's yours. Doing well Joao?" There was an obvious hint of animosity in his voice that was evident to the both of you. Nevertheless, Joao released you to shake Gavi's hand.
"I saw you on TV the other day getting picked up by this one. Twitter went crazy speculating about you two dating. You guys.. aren't dating, right?" Joao directed the question to you, now fully turned away from Gavi, whose body temperature had exceeded 100 degrees.
"No, no. We're..." your eyes flashes to him, "just friends".
"I guess anyone would be grateful to have someone like you caring for their wellbeing. A shame that you didn't come over to us for this season. But I may get the privilege if I can get Xavi to place a bid on me." Pablo let out a laugh that was too loud and enthusiastic to be polite. If Joao had been offended, he didn't let it on.
"Oh, Mason is here, too! We're going out with him and his friend Jude for drinks here at the hotel bar. You should come with us! You can come too, Gavi- oh wait, are you even old enough to drink?" The question was punctuated with a smirk, an obvious rebuttal to Gavi's humor at him joining the club.
"I'm flattered but I need to get some rest for tom- wait Jude as in Bellingham?" You asked, eyes wide.
"Of course. Know any other Jude's being nominated?" You heard Gavi breathing loud and heavy beside you, taking this as your cue to call it a night. Before you left, Joao grabbed your wrist, taking a look at your card.
"Floor three. Same as us. Maybe we'll see you around." He hugged you once more as a good night, then headed over to Mason, who waved at the group of you with Jude beside him. You made your way to the elevator with Gavi and felt embarrassed. You hadn't even done anything but be polite, but in some way you felt like you had committed a sin in talking so freely with Joao. Engrossed in thought, your face met Gavi's back as he suddenly stopped in front of a door.
"This is my room. I'll see you tomorrow." You stopped him in his tracks, one hand preventing him from crossing the threshold.
"Are you mad at me?" You asked, voice soft and even, trying to disguise the hurt.
"I- no, of course not, Doctora. Just nervous. Didn't think I'd be seeing my competition tonight." You pulled him into a hug, hands around his waist and your head on his chest with his above it. He let out a shaky breath, and all his fears with them. Joao had invited you out and yet you were still here, in his arms and in front of his door.
"Will I see you tomorrow? Before the 'big show'?" He asked, keeping you against his chest, just for a moment longer.
"Staff aren't allowed on the carpet so I'll see you inside the theater."
"Don't sit next to Joao tomorrow." He said with a slight pout, and you wanted to just pull him down and kiss him so hard he lost consciousness from the lack of air.
"I don't think they'll let me sit next to the players. Not important enough."
"You're going to be one of the most important people in that room. And just, don't sit next to him."
"I won't Pablo."
"Promise?" He said, sticking out his pinky. You rolled your eyes and wrapped your finger around his, bringing your conjoined hands upwards. You twisted them so that your thumb was facing him and vice versa. You leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to the skin of his hand. His breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed audibly.
"What are you.. what was that?"
"You have to kiss it to seal the promise."
He brought your entwined hands up to his lips, looking at you once more for any objection, before closing his eyes and kissing your knuckles.
"You have soft lips." You said looking between his lips and his hooded eyes.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Well, I'm two rooms over. Good night, Pablo. Good luck."
He watched you walk down the hall and enter your room, only returning to his when the door clicked shut. He pressed his back to the wood, allowing it to cool the sweat pooling under his hoodie. He was so thankful that he wasn't sharing a room with Pedri, because the feeling of your lips on his skin, soft and plump, had made him so incredibly hard.
~
"We are here live from the red carpet of the annual Ballon D'or ceremony, and the stars of the football world have come out in full force. On the carpet now Xavi Hernandez and his wife Núria, as well as Ballon D'Or contender Robert Lewandowski and his wife, champion in her own right, Anna. These are the veterans of football, and they should be shortly accompanied by the young trailblazers leading the New Era of Barcelona football."
It was three minutes until Gavi was supposed to step onto the carpet, and he was panicking. His breathing was shallow, his collar felt like it was suffocating him, and he was sweating bullets under his suit.
"Pedri, I can't do this." He said, genuine fear swimming in his eyes as he looked to his friend for comfort.
"Yes you can, hermano. All you have to do is walk and smile. Maybe answer some questions. You can absolutely do all of those things."
"What if I make an ass of myself?" He said, hiding behind Pedri as their handler signalled 30 seconds until they walked.
"You are here being told you are one of the best under 21 players in the world, and then you get to walk into the theater and see the best person in the world."
"I do really want to see her in a dress."
"I was talking about Leo Messi." Pedri deadpanned, and Gavi was shoved on the carpet genuinely laughing, a million bulbs flashing to capture his joy. He was here. He was 18 years old and on his way to shake hands with greatness. He was walking the carpet with his best friend in the world in a five thousand euro suit. He thought to his younger self, eleven years old and hiding behind his mother on his first day at La Masia. All the dreams he had were now the blueprint for his reality. Barca first team player? Check. Goal scorer? Check. Trophy winner? Check. Beautiful girl to share every euphoric moment with? Pending.
He took a few steps forward, waiting for Pedri to be photographed before he walked down to the end of the carpet, taking a group photo and heading to the microphones.
"Gavi! You look wonderful this evening. Are you excited for your first ceremony?"
"Oh, yeah, of course. It's something that I always dreamed about and now that my dream is a reality, I am just trying to enjoy every moment."
"Well you have had an absolutely stellar season playing with the reigning Kopa winner here, Pedri. Is it something you're thankful for, to play with him and to play with Barca?"
He looked over at Pedri, whose eyebrows were wiggling causing his serious demeanor to break.
"I'm absolutely so pleased to work with this guy here. He's just incredible on the field and we work well together. Barca is my lifelong club, and I am grateful to play there, to have them take care of me and keep me healthy." The reporter gave a thumbs up, and the boy stepped to the side to allow Pedri to finish his interview, wanted to have company as he entered the theater.
"Taking care of you and keeping you healthy, hm? Why didn't you just say her full name?"
The theater was glorious, all gold ornaments and plush red velvet, giving it a timeless and glamorous look. He craned his neck, looking around for those familiar eyes and inviting smile that had made his life so much worse and simultaneously so much better.
"Pablo." The voice came from behind him, and when he turned around, the world moved in slow motion. Your dress, pale nude and powder blue, made you look like a Greek deity. You could give the entire Spanish royal family a run for their money with the way the bodice seemed to mold against you, flaring out into a beautiful cascade of material. It ended at the bottom of your ankles, your feet hugged by blue heels, an anklet handing off that Gavi couldn't quite make out. Your jewelry glinted in the lights, the necklaces sitting between your collar bones drawing in the eye to the expanse of your chest and neck, and he had to try so, so hard to tear his eyes from this. He focused on all these details because looking at your face made him go slack-jawed.
Your hair was cascading freely, front pieces twirled away to show off the beauty of your feature. Your makeup was simple - glowing skin with rosy cheeks, black liner framing and highlighting your eyes, and glossy pink lips. Pablo knew nothing about makeup, but he knew for certain that if he got his hands on you, he would destroy whatever you had painted on your lips to make them shine. You batted your long lashes, and smiled shyly as Pedri let out a low whistle.
"Wow, who knew you were hiding all of this? Were you looking for husband tonight? This is the way to get it." He offered a hand, spinning you around so he (or rather Gavi) could get a full look, the blue bow in your hair flowing beautifully.
"You're too sweet, Pedri. I just didn't want to embarrass the club."
"Embarrass?!" They both exclaimed loudly, catching the attention of a few bystanders.
"You're on track to upstage us. They pay you enough to afford Prada?" Pedri asked again, pointing to your shoes.
"Your mortal enemy lent them to me."
A friend of Pedri's came up to whisk him away to another group, leaving you standing with Pablo.
"So, what do you think, Pablo? Too much?" You were nervous, resisting the urge to clench your dress in your fists and scurry off. You smoothed your clammy palms down the fabric as well.
"Doctora, you know I'm not super smart like you. I don't even know the words I want to tell you right now. So I'll use one I know: you look breathtaking." He practically whispered out the last word, causing your head to snap up, eyes meeting. "I think you might be the prettiest girl in the room right now." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, swallowing back his nerves and pride. You were absolutely stunning, and no friendship or professionalism would stop him from letting you know.
"Thank you, Pablo. You have no idea how much that means coming from you." You moved forward, adjusting his bowtie as an usher came to guide him to his seat. You moved to the back with other team staff members, waving to him as he walked off. You were independent and a girlboss and all that, but it felt good to have him think you were pretty.
~
"And the winner is... Gavi."
The crowd erupted in cheers, the clapping so loud it was deafening. Pedri smiled from ear to ear, watching as his friend came up to the stage to take his place as Europe's shining star, their Golden Boy. Gavi had been frozen in his seat for a second before Robert pushed him up, clapping him on the back and congradulating him. As he placed his hands around the trophy, his peripheral vision registered the people moving from their seats, standing and clapping for his success. Pedri was smug in his congratulations, reminding Pablo he never had a doubt he would be handing off this trophy to him. And as Pablo took his place at the podium, the gold statue adorning his side, he saw you. In the third to last row of the theater, you stood, by yourself in a row full of staff, clapping excitedly for his achievement. Your smile was bright, teeth on full display to convey the level of genuine joy you felt in that moment. You almost looked happier than Gavi himself. And as the applause died down and people retook their seats, he watched you sit back down, hands crossed over your chest in pride and admiration. He looked straight at you, a point of comfort in the large crowd, and only then did he allow the unbridled joy of being the very best to fill him.
"Thank you. I am so proud to have achieved this, to have won such a prestigious award in my first full season with Barca's first team. Thank you to my family for standing by me in the good times and the bad, and for believing in me. Thank you to the club, who gave me every opportunity to play and show my skill this season. A huge thanks to my coach and teammates for helping me succeed. And finally, I want to recognize and thank the Barca staff, especially the physio team, for all their hard work this season. I wouldn't be here without their dedication. Once again, thank you very much for the honor. Visca Barca."
All he wanted was to run off the stage into your arms, to ignore the questions about his season and his success, but there would be time later. You, on the other hand, were trying to recover from the shell shock of Pablo recognizing you specifically during his acceptance speech. Your phone buzzed in your lap at a mile a minute, text messages flooding in from friends and family telling you they had watched Gavi's praise of you on TV. You sat in that same shocked state until the ceremony ended.
~
Why on Earth did so many people want to talk to Gavi? Sure, he had just won one of the most important awards in football, but they had already played his highlight reel. What else could they want to know that wasn't on YouTube? He still smiled politely, congratulating Luka and Robert on their awards before he was able to catch a spare moment alone at a far table, Pedri pulling up to his side shortly after, also fatigued from small talk. His trophy was in hand, a little less shiny now that every person who greeted him had asked to hold it, the luster dulled by grease and fingerprints. The two stood in a comfortable silence, exchanging remarks about the room or the guests at the function every once in a while.
"Pablo! There you are!"
He looked up at the sound of your voice, but not nearly fast enough as you came barreling into him, arms thrown around his neck and embracing him so tight he thought he might pass out (not that he was complaining).
"I'm so, so proud of you." You whispered in his ear, squeezing a little tighter before releasing him, smoothing the soft material of his blazer to release the wrinkles you caused with your attack.
"I'm so glad all your hard work had amounted to this, and I hope I'm around to see how amazing you'll be in the future." You said, emotion making your voice crack slightly. There was something about Pablo that convinced you, deep in your soul, that you were two halves meant to come together. He was young, passionate, ambitious - a reflection of yourself. And to watch him succeed? To see him soar to heights previously thought impossible? It was something you wouldn't trade for the world.
Gavi's heartstrings were so tight they were ready to snap. He had prayed to hear so many different things from you, but never realized that this recognition, this pride expressed so freely, would be the most meaningful. This was it. This was the moment. Suit on, trophy in hand, this was the moment to express how much needed you in his life in a different way. How much he needed to keep making you proud.
"Y/N! There you are."
Joao's built arm was wrapped around you, smelling slightly of whiskey and Dior Fahrenheit. The anger vein in Gavi's forehead began to make a reappearance.
"Mason had to see you and introduce you to some of the boys." Mason greeted you as well, and called over his 'friend Jude' to be introduced. Jude Bellingham was an absolute sculpture, holding a glass of God knows what in such an effortless manner, his tie also abandoned in favor of leaving his first two buttons popped.
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Jude. I've heard about you from this one - thinks you're a medical Godsend." He ended with a wink. Pedri could feel the heat radiating from Gavi's side, and apparently so could Jude, who looked up and offered a wave.
"Congrats, mate. Brilliant speech." He said, raising a glass to help bridge the language barrier. You turned your head, quickly translating the sentiment.
"Oh, you're with them? The super special physio that's gotten praised in his speech? I should've known I was in the presence of greatness." You laughed politely, tucking a loose strand of hair behind one ear.
"I'm really nothing special."
"Oh, well, that can't be true. I'll see for myself when I'm in SPain next year." A wink. Pedri grasped Pablo's arm to prevent blows. "Come with me, I want to introduce you to some of the boys and the staff from City."
You quickly turned around, finding Gavi and Pedri whispering to one another.
"Pablo! He wants to introduce me to some people. I'll come find you!"
Thirty minutes later, Pablo was at a table with his trophy and a scowl, moping on what should be a happy night. After his second turn around the room, Pedri joined him, hoping to alleviate the burden.
"Hermano, are you-"
"Why would she just go with him? Like, I understand not being able to turn someone away when they're in your face, but to go with him?! Why would she do that?" He asked, sounding more and more small and child-like as he continued.
"She was just networking, hermano. Trying to meet people and make connections."
"Connections. Look what her connections have got her. Other guys coming up to her, trying to flirt in the most obvious ways possible. None of them know her like I do. None of them will ever - can ever - care about her in the way that I do. She needs to realize that no one will ever want to treat her right the way that I long to."
"Maybe you need to realize that it's not always the best guy that will get the girl, but the boldest one."
"What?"
"How many opportunities have you had, hm? To tell her you wanted her, to profess your love, to kiss her in her car or under street lamps or in front of the whole world? But you just stay sitting on the sidelines waiting for her to come to you. You know what's happening during that time? A Joao or a Jude or a Martin is taking the risk of telling her she's amazing, and she's going to accept. She's going to accept love that's less than yours because someone else was willing to give it to her, proudly and confidently. And you'll be sitting next to me, twenty years from now when we're both retired, talking about how the love of your life slipped between your fingers. She's here, right now, and you are still waiting. Either take the shot or let someone else shoot."
A fear shot through Pablo that he had never felt before. The idea of you, right now, falling in love with someone else made the bile rise in his throat. He couldn't do it again. He couldn't watch you be with a man who thought you were anything less than the entire universe. It was him. Pablo Gavi was the one meant to have you, to hold you, to protect you from every evil and show you every joy. You were his soulmate, and he would move heaven and earth for his lover who was written for him in the stars.
He stood, scurrying to where Jude and the others had congregated. "Sorry to interrupt, but have you seen y/n?" He asked, trying to keep his voice steady and free from the terror threatening to consume him. He couldn't see your form anywhere in the ballroom.
"Oh," Kepa was the one to reply as the official Spanish speaker, "she went up to her room a few minutes ago. I think Joao took her up."
Pablo nodded before speed walking towards the door, breaking into a full sprint towards the elevators. Please. Please no. Please not Joao. Please not anyone. The ding when the elevator reached the third floor made his blood ripple, and he speed walked to your door, muttering under his breath.
"Please don't be in love with someone else."
He reached the door of your room, paralyzed with fear. He didn't know what he was about to do, but he knew he would implode and self-destruct if he didn't do something.
He lifted his fist, took a breath, and knocked firmly on the door. A moment later, you opened the door, still in the perfect shape he saw you before, but now barefoot on the plush carpet of the hotel.
"Pablo?"
He peered over your shoulder, trying to get a glimpse of the room behind.
"Are you looking for something?"
"Please, tell me he's not in there."
"Who, Pablo?"
"Anyone. Please tell me that there is no one in there now waiting on you. Please tell me," he pleaded softly, moving toward you and placing his hands on your shoulder, moving one down to rest right above where your heart beat. "Please tell me there is no one else in here. I have never begged in my life, Doctora, but I'm here now to beg you: tell me who is the one you're reserving a place in your heart for. Because I know, more than I know anything else in this world, that my soul is yours. Everything I could possibly give, I am asking you to take it without a second thought. And I have pretended, for months now, that I don't need you like the very air I'm breathing. But the more I pretend, the more clear it becomes: I have never loved anything as strongly as I love you. It is overwhelming and all consuming the way every heartbeat and breath is just for you. So just tell me how long I will have to wait. Days, months, years - tell me how long it will be until I get to love you, wholly and completely. Until I get to love you as you deserve. Because there is no other choice. There is no moving on. Every angel in heaven knows that I would struggle in vain until my last dying breath trying to get over you."
There were no words. Hell, there was no air. There was only Pablo, breathless and shaking before you, his fragile heart in your hands. Your hands moved to cup his face, and the urge to cry didn't consume you. You pulled him in, lips finally connecting with his, and the electricity that jolted through you could have lit up all of Paris. His lips were slow to react, and as you pulled away he followed, reluctant to stop kissing you in fear he would never start again.
"You, Pablo. My heart is yours. I'm yours. I always have been."
This time it was Pablo who pulled you in, his arms around your waist lifting you into him. He basked in the plump flesh of your lips, the way it felt to hold you in his arms, a million times better than he could have imagined. It was as if your hearts were racing in sync, thumping the same beat that reverberated around the little bubble the two of you were in. You shifted hands from his face to his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. You had craved this, to be so close and connected with Pablo. The kiss was slow, passionate, the kiss to say 'I have waited for you for so long' and the one in return to say 'I'm here to stay'.
Pedri had gone upstairs to look for Pablo, scared he had committed manslaughter, and found the two of you there, kissing in the hallway, arms enveloping each other and lips locked in a soft and tender embrace. He placed Pablo's trophy (his whole reason for finding him on the ground, turning to leave before stopping and performing his duties as a friend: taking a picture. Maybe he should buy Gavi a whole pack of frames.
You finally pulled away, face flushed and lips pinkish and swollen from the liplock. You kept your arms around Pablo, turning your face to hide in his shoulder. You spotted the golden statue on the floor and smiled as you moved to pick it up, stopped by his strong and unfaltering embrace.
"Your award, Pablo."
"You're my real prize of this evening."
"Ugh how corny." You laughed, finally freeing yourself to go and pick it up. You carried it before turning from Pablo to unlock your room door, timidly standing in the entryway.
"Do... you want to come inside?" You asked, cradling his trophy in your arms.
"Do you want me to come inside?" He asked, heart threatening to break his sternum. He had never thought of going so far so fast.
"I mean if you don't want to-"
"No I want to, preciosa. God I want- but I don't want to make you feel like you have to."
"You're not. I want you Pablo. All of you." You opened the door wider, inviting him in. "Dale, campeon."
~
You left Pablo on the bed while you went to slip out of your dress. As much as you wanted Pablo (in an immediate fashion), you couldn't risk stains or rips on such an expensive lended piece. You re-emerged from the bathroom in a black night gown, a satin slip that came just past your fingertips. Pablo had made himself comfortable, stripping his jacket and shoes, abandoning the bowtie and unbuttoning the top of his shirt. You walked out slowly, standing in front of him shyly.
"What do you think?" You asked, giving a little spin. He reached out a hand, pulling you down to the bed and seating you on his lap.
"I lied before," he said softly. "You weren't 'maybe the prettiest girl tonight'. You're the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. In every room and on every night." His hands found your hips and his lips found yours, and the flames were fanned. He moved with a fervor you had never experienced, like he couldn't get enough of the feel of your lips or the taste of your tongue. He bit down softly on your bottom lip, desperate to illicit every pretty sound he could from you. He nibbled gently, pulling with his teeth and then soothing with his tongue before reuniting it with yours. He gripped the flesh of your hips, and your hands leg his lower, encouraging him to find stability on the flesh of your ass.
"You're perfect." He said breathlessly, moving to kiss and nibble at your neck. You shifted on his lap, desperate for any friction to help douse the flames between your legs. He shifted the two of you so that you were straddling one of his thighs, allowing you rock yourself back and forth as he continued worshipping and lapping at your skin.
"Pablo, it's so good." You whined as he moved down to kiss the exposed tops of your breasts. He looked up at you, asking for permission to remove your nightgown, which you gave with quick enthusiasm. He grabbed at the bottom hem, lifting it over your head in one fluid motion before stopping. He stared at you, moving across your bare chest and down to your nude lace thong.
"Oh this won't do." He muttered while gripping your waist and flipping your positions so that you were laying on the mattress with him above you.
"What?" You asked while your arms moved to cover your chest. He removed them swiftly, licking his lips and giving each breast a kiss, making your nipples harden.
"I need to have you spread out underneath me so I can take in every gorgeous inch of you." He said before he trailed his lips down your entire torso.
"Can't believe someone who looks like you is all mine. I've wanted you for so long." He finished his sentence with a searing kiss to your lips.
"Just wanted you to see how much someone could love you. And I would still love you, even if you want to stop right now and never do this again." He said, pulling back slightly before you threaded your fingers through his hair and brought his mouth to your chest.
"No, don't wanna stop. I want you. I need you Pablo please." You whine out, and hoped he knew that you meant it in every possible way. He allowed his tongue to drag across your nipples before sucking one into his mouth, playing with the other as he watched for your reactions. His cock was straining against his boxers and dress pants, and he rutted against the mattress for any sort of relief.
"Pablo it's too good."
"Always want to be good for you, Doctora. Wanna give you the best."
He moved his hands to the waistband of your panties, moving them down and watching the resistance, seeing how big the wet patch was and how your thighs clenched for some sort of pleasure.
"Open up, pretty girl."
"Pablo, want you. Want you please."
"I'm right here, baby. All yours."
You grabbed on of his hands sucking two of his fingers in his mouth while keeping your eyes locked, tongue circling and his cock now rubbing up on the flesh of your thigh.
"Want you inside me. Please, Pablo."
He rubbed his two wet fingers up and down your slit, teasing and just listening to the way you reacted. The cool air heightened everything, and you could do nothing but squirm in place.
"Love the way you say my name, preciosa. Let me take care of you." He slipped a finger inside, and you both moaned in sync. You at the feeling of finally having Pablo pleasing you, and him at the wetness he encountered. He quickly put in another, lips going back to yours as if they were addictive. He leaned back, slipping out of his trousers and boxers when you put a hand on his chest.
"Pablo. I..."
"We can stop if you want." He said, already making a move to get up and redress despite his cock leaking.
"No. I want this. I want you. I just... promise me something?"
"Anything."
"Please don't leave me after we have sex."
He looked at your hurting eyes and felt his chest squeeze. He cupped your face, kissing your forehead. "I could never leave you, Doctora." Another chaste kiss, this time to the tip of your nose. "You don't have to worry. I'll always be with you. I promise." He brought you in and kissed you, lips slotting together and tongues dancing together as if they had years of practice.
"Always have to seal the promise with a kiss." He said playfully, and you looked away in embarrassment. He spread your legs and found a space between them, tilting your head with a finger under your chin.
"Look at me baby. I want to see that pretty face when I make you feel good. Wanna see how hot you are when you cum all over me. Make the cutest little mess." He said, spitting in his hand slightly and rubbing the length of his cock. You sat up on your forearms, watching the erotic sight as Pablo ran his tip up and down your slit.
"Pablo," you whined.
He lined himself up, lifting you by the back of the neck to kiss you as he pushed in, the stretch causing you to bite his bottom lip harder than expected (he kind of liked it). He stayed for a minute on his forearms above you, hoping that time would allow you to adjust and prevent him from busting on stroke three. He placed his arms beside your head, leaning down and resting his forehead on yours.
"I love you." He said, picking up his pace as he did so. Your whine was high pitched and loud, fueling Pablo's ego tremendously.
"I love you more." You retorted, moving your hips to spur him to go faster. He pulled out of your slowly once again, then re-sheathed himself with force. He was moving slow and taking his sweet time, savoring every delicious second of the evening.
"Not possible, angel." And then pulled all the way out before slamming back in. Pablo was forceful, shifting your body with every thrust. He kissed your lips and neck, purple springs blooming from each spot he touched. You loved the feeling. You belonged to him, body and soul, and you wanted everybody to know.
"Please, Pablo. Faster. I'm begging." You breathed out, and he could do nothing but oblige.
"That's my pretty girl, taking it so well. Feeling so fucking good wrapped around me. So wet and sucking me in. Fuck. You're so good for me."
You had decided to suck on Pablo's neck to prevent you from moaning your heart out to all of Paris. A large hickey was developing just above his collarbone with not one care towards its ability to be covered. You were feeling that familiar buildup in your stomach, and brought a hand down to play with your clit that was quickly swatted away.
"Gonna cum, baby? Let me spoil you. Let me take care of you." He said as he pressed his thumb to your clit and started rubbing circles into the sensitive bud. There was no more suppressing your moans as they emerged full force. It was perfect. Pablo was perfect, telling you how much he wanted and loved you while looking after your pleasure.
"Please don't stop Pablo I'm so so fucking close."
"Wouldn't dream of it." He said, and seconds later, his name was the only thing on your lips as you came, gripping onto his back and trailing your nails down, his toned back the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. He finished a minute after you, rolling over in exhaustion. You expected him to turn onto his side and ignore you like every other man you had slept with. Instead, he got you both under the comforter, laying down and bringing you to lay on his chest.
"You're so incredible, do you know that?" He asked, kissing your forehead gently.
"You're one to talk." There's giggles and comfort despite the lack of clothes. When the high dies down, you turn to his tired form, which is still smiling at you.
"What are you so smiley for?" You asked.
"I'm with the best person in the world. How can I not smile when I'm with you?"
You laid back on his chest, guilt and paranoia seeping in, obvious by the tension building in your form.
"I love you, Doctora. I love you, I love you, I love you. You are worth more than sex. And I don't love you just because you're hot. You complete me, in every possible way."
"I love you more, Pablo."
"As the medical professional, you should know that's not possible."
He released you from his grip to get shirts and underwear for the two of you to sleep in, still not used to Pablo + you + nudity. You laid back down, cuddled into Pablo's chest as you had for months now, and drifted off into the most relaxing sleep. You were in love with a boy. And he was hopelessly, desperately in love with you. And there was nothing else in the world that mattered in this moment except for the way you tangled together to feel safe. Before he could drift off, Pablo heard the ding of his phone. A photo from Pedri of the two of you in the hall.
[Pedri]: congrats on all your wins today hermano
~
The flight back to Barcelona was nerve-racking for you. You were anxious as to how your boss and peers would perceive your new relationship with Pablo, which he established right away.
"No 'what are we' bullshit'. You're my girlfriend, and that's only because I didn't have a ring on me to make you my fiancee."
His hand was laced through yours the entire walk through the terminal, so proud to show you off to the world as his. As you two boarded the flight, it was Anna who finally asked if something had happened in Paris.
"I asked her to be my girl and she said yes."
There was a round of cheering from those on the plane, and after a swift whatsapp message from Pedri, there were hundreds of messages in the groupchat, from congrats to jokes to utter disbelief. Neither of you looked at any of it. Pablo was too busy counting the stars he saw in your eyes, studying every feature on your face, sneaking in a kiss whenever he could. And you listened to him ramble, intoxicated by the sound of his voice, the melody bringing you tranquility. He was your peace. He was your everything.
"Ah, so you two will be needing these." Xavi said, placing the 'Relationship Disclosure' form and two pens in front of the both of you. "Gavi, don't distract her from her work."
"Hey! Shouldn't it be the other way around?"
"No. You're the distraction." You teased, earning Pablo's full attention and wrath.
"I can tell by the way you've been staring at me for two days."
"Oh Pablo, I've been staring at you much longer than that."
"I hope you never stop."
~
A/N: and there it is folks. Almost 8 months later, here is Just Pretend. There will be an epilogue to this at some point to show what happens with their relationship (and it will have better smut), but this is it for the main story. Please share any feedback you have in replies, reblogs, or in the ask box. Thank you so so much to everyone who has stuck by this story for so long. I love you all.
*~*Taglist*~*
@l0verl4ne @vibinwkay @anastasia-nova @mxgvmiii @mads-grace4 @bubblebeep69 @katluckybear @scuderiabarca @alwaysclassyeagle @simpingmyassoff @grlwithprblms @lqvesoph @pink-manz @graziemille @xxenia14 @nngkay @icedlattewithextracaramel @gyusrose @vip-access @julianalvarez9 @lavie3nrose @ge0rg1ewaa @i8yul @lovefordilfs271 @remuslupinluver @thattaylorswiftobsessedbitch @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @kaismybabe @notanenthucutlet @fullsun9890 @venomwh0re @renaissancewhxre @gaviandgrizisgirl @altgojo @urmomdotcom5678 @eliseline @invidia-of-alhambra @pixwls @stell4rrrs @80sloverry @car1no-xx @mrsgavira @888bear @kylianmbappee @ivyhrry @gaviypedrisbride @grlwithprblms @dessxoxsworld @user6373738 @sideeblogsstuff @halaxxx @berriesaren
#pablo gavi x reader#gavi#pablo gavi imagine#gavi x reader#pablo gavi#pablo gavi x y/n#gavisuntiedboot#gavi imagine#pablo gavi fluff#gavi fic#pablo gavi fanfiction#gavi x you#fc barca#gavi fluff#gavi fanfic#pablo gavi slow burn#pablo gavi x reader fluff#fc barcelona#pablo gavi angst#gavi angst#gub just pretend#gavi smut#pablo gavi smut#pablo gavi x reader smut#gavi x reader smut
555 notes
·
View notes
Text
I really want to see more low/no empathy characters (NOT antagonists/villains) in books. Especially as protagonists, rather than side characters. I want to see characters who react with practicality after a tragedy. While everyone else is mourning, they're immediately thinking "how can we fix this / how can we make sure it doesn't happen again." Or alternatively characters who don't even react "reasonably". Who see tragedy and their first thought is "Well, at least we don't have to worry about X anymore." Or who sigh in relief that "at least it wasn't worse" while looking at the worst thing that's ever happened in their life.
I want to see characters who don't know how to react when their companions are experiencing strong emotions. Who try their best, but sometimes their best is a really awkward pat on the back or thumbs up. Or alternatively characters who avoid people who are experiencing strong emotion because the awkwardness and uselessness they experience is so uncomfortable for them.
I want to see characters who misread the room and crack a joke too soon, or try to offer a distraction when people don't want to be distracted. Characters who mean well, but act outside the "norm".
And I want to see characters who aren't villainized for it. I want to see characters whose friends say "It's okay, I know you're not good with this stuff." Or who make sure that their low-empathy friend has an important job to do to keep their mind busy, because just because they don't have empathy doesn't mean they can't be traumatized.
#I'm saying all this as a low/no empathy person btw.#this is the kind of representation I want personally.#and a lot of it is based on my experiences or desires.#morrigan.text#character inspo#writing autistic characters#writing low empathy characters#writing no empathy characters
609 notes
·
View notes
Text
There's an incredibly fucking interesting contrast between how kind and benevolent Theresa is and how fucked up what she did to Amiya (in choosing to pass the Civilight Eterna onto Amiya).
Almost everyone who is In The Know thinks that Theresa is so fucked up for doing this, for being the reason why Amiya is forced to shoulder the entire weight of Sarkaz history and to be uncontrollably overwhelmed by other people's emotions and feel them as they die:
Shining sees Amiya and feels a pang of compassion:
Warfarin thinks it's better to just let Amiya die in her sleep and thinks that, in a moment of desperate, misguided hope, Theresa condemned a little girl to a horrible fate:
Kal'tsit really doesn't want Amiya to fight or lead the Chernobog operation because fears that she will suffer the same fate Theresa did, smothered out by the cruelty of an uncaring world (but at the same time, she also believes she has the right to choose for herself):
Even Amiya's potential token is (what seems to be, to me) a plea for forgiveness from Theresa:
But the thing is, Amiya doesn't think this. She has absolutely every reason to hate Theresa, to despise her for showing her love but taking her life into her hands and saying "my path is now yours," but she doesn't. In fact, Amiya is more grateful than anything else that Theresa has given her the Crown, and with it, the power to change things (but at the same time, even that is called into question. Remember that one conversation between Amiya and the Damazati Cluster as Bill in Episode 10?:)
There's this one scene in Episode 8 in particular that really gets me, where Rosmontis asks Amiya that shouldn't they hate the people that turned them into the monsters they are, but Amiya can't agree:
Even if Theresa was the monster who made sure she could never live a normal life and the reason for the suffering she's experienced, she was her mother, how could she agree? She was her mother, she loved her and Amiya could never bring herself to hate her.
#arknights#amiya#amiya arknights#theresa#theresa arknights#i hope this gets explored in the main story more#it's something that's like very much there in the background but hasn't come up in a while and i hope we get to see more of amiya's#messy feelings regarding theresa#there's a lot of interesting stuff about amiya and kal'tsit's relationship i want to talk about in a future post...
154 notes
·
View notes
Text
┗━⌜ALL I WANT IS FOR YOU TO BE HAPPY⌟━┛
✎ Life with the Archons
(Venti, Zhongli, Raiden, Nahida and Furina)
VENTI - Videtis illam spirare libertatis auram
.ೃ࿐ Having you by his side, sleeping all so peacefully in his arms puts him at ease. Knowing you trust him makes him feel all warm in his heart-
.ೃ࿐ It's not like he would ever hurt you, it's quite the opposite. But knowing that you are just as comfortable around him as he is with you is enough to make him fall in love with you all over again
.ೃ࿐ would he tell you this? Yeah sure! But not without a little teasing and playful nagging when he sees a flustered or touched reaction on you
.ೃ࿐ your days together are mostly spend with you both doing literally anything that come to mind
.ೃ࿐ ideas like trying out Dionas newest creation or seeing who eats the most dishes at good hunter come mostly for your lovely bard
.ೃ࿐ he just wants you both having fun! Thinking about sad things all day would only crush someone, and he would never want to see you in a pain he has experienced
.ೃ࿐ I think everyone said it at least once, but yes he would write songs about you. Stories of you and your great adventures, how strong, generous and kind you are.
.ೃ࿐ and how kind you are always picking him up from angel's share when he lost both track of time and amounts of liquor he already drank
.ೃ࿐ he does feel guilty tho, but you know he is sorry and it's not like it happens so often. Just when it does, it reaaally does. But everybody got their flaws right?
.ೃ࿐ not you tho, not his beautiful Windblume (basic ik but as a German its so cute to me :))
.ೃ࿐ once he tried cooking your favorite dish. You were busy all day with missions form the adventurers guild and came back all exhausted and hungry....and to Venti desperately trying to put out the little fire that he started with his vision....the fire only got bigger
.ೃ࿐he claimed it was still edible. He's not wrong it was, just not tasty at all. Not him being banned from the kitchen now, nahhh
.ೃ࿐ he was super sad tho he wanted to fo something good for you and messed it up cause he looked away for a few seconds by preparing something else
.ೃ࿐ also, one thing he definitely loves and can't be without, besides you, is having you present beside him when he sleeps.
.ೃ࿐ you are there, and save, I his touch so he knows you won't be gone
ZHONGLI - if fairness is lost, then the contract shall become proof of one's deception
☄. *. ⋆ wakes up at the ass crack of morning, makes himself a tea and watches the sunset paint you like a deity sleeping in bed while sitting down on some chair to appear even more like a love sick grandpa
☄. *. ⋆ and if you do feel eyes on you, he greets you with a deep "Good morning my beloved, I hope this night gave you the best rest" and then let's you wake up slowly while he also makes you a tea, or coffee what you prefer
☄. *. ⋆ he'll always question himself, does he even deserve you? Yeah, yeah he does obviously but...why does it always feel so surreal having your pure soul around him????
☄. *. ⋆ hes in love let him be, I really like to think of him in a relationship as this really gentle,like and caring "grandpa" who's stuck in time. Like a guy you'd see in a historical romance book
☄. *. ⋆ going out with him is....something. he either fully forgot his wallet or is just a few mora to short for the groceries. But that's not everyday tho it happens here and there, the people are also used ro it like no one is surprised-
☄. *. ⋆ he just makes a contract with them that he will bring the rest money tomorrow and boom, done everyone happy---he is a man of his words
☄. *. ⋆ looooves walks with you, either hold his hand, the hand that is ready to do everything for you. Or link arms together like whatever you like baby ❤️
☄. *. ⋆ when you agreed to be in a relationship with him he promised you to take best care of you and that there shall be no worry left in your head
☄. *. ⋆ he does hold this promise (with maybe a teeny tiny contract, maybeee) and that also includes dinner. He knew you'd be home on a short while and completely forgot to prepare anything to eat, neither did you think about getting food home either
☄. *. ⋆ then Zhongli made a mistake of agreeing that Hu Tao helps him get some food on the table. And food on the table there was cause she did something. What it exactly is, nobody knows, how she exactly did that, a mystery. But it was good, and it made Zhongli realize how much of a good friend he had awwwww
☄. *. ⋆ a little friendship appreciation cause it's cute---
☄. *. ⋆ oh and grandpa goes to sleep exactly at 9, maybe at 10. On his rebellious days it can be at 11. Like on date nights he just says, eh fuck it I spend more time with my beloved, and goes to bed when you do. And also loves to do your night routine like you, skin care or not, he does it. To feel both closer and more connected with you and make you realize you mean a lot to him
☄. *. ⋆ being open to your things is a way of him telling you, hey, you're great yk that? His love language is acts of service cause, jsnwkajqks
RAIDEN - This body's purpose is to withstand wear and tear, that the one within might achieve Eternity
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ she would eat cake for breakfast if you would let her. Sweet things make her happy, youre sweet, you make her happy
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ "I love you...Y/N, for eternity" - 😐
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ give her time to show emotions, she can do that much better with words and actions
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ wake you up like a mom tho, like you both sleep together and suddenly she rips open the curtains and is like "Rise and shine" at 7am summertime where the sun is exactly where you dont want it to be
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ pls don't let go over her hand. In public she'll always have a hand on you, she's scared you'll leave if she doesn't. But she slowly but surely realizes that you won't, you would never
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ like, imagine you see this cute ass cat or dog and you smile so bright and she's giving this bombastic side eye bitch look. Goals I'd want that
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ yes but in reality she'd want to pet it. Pls keep asking for you both to adopt a pet so she doesn't has to ask-
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ yeah uh you cook, or you both cause her alone is a much known disaster. But she is ready to learn and is ready for the baby steps. She really does listen and learns fast. Her cooking now is simple, but edible and improves with every new try
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ thanks to your help obviously. And if you're just as bad, don't worry. She's happy you both can learn something and spend more time together. She really does enjoy your company, it keeps her at ease and let's her have a clear mind. You most definitely are her comfort character haha
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ but she's not only the love of mine and your life, she's also super protective of you. Getting fo a point where not even the waiter is allowed to speak the most necessary words to you. She is an Archon and should obviously be respected, like anyone else, but also you as her partner should also receive the same respect
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ falling asleep with you is easy, falling asleep without you difficult. You both need each other, but as stubborn you both are, you are the only one who can admit it truly. She also lets it slip but not in a "I can't sleep without you" more in a "Where in a relationship aren't we, so we should sleep beside each other" looking for excuses. She's my everything pls
NAHIDA - I might look like a child, but don't be fooled: I understand this world much better than any grown-up. (PLATONIC)
༊*·˚ she's the best to live with. She'll wake you up with her gentle words and quietly opens the window so a breeze can go inside and wake you up even softer
༊*·˚ sometimes she'll join you in bed when the time allows it she listens to you talk about your dreams and how you slept at night
༊*·˚ she makes sure you know that's she cares about you like duh you're friends
༊*·˚ breakfast is the absolute healthiest of them all, you have such a variety of fruits and vegetables to pick from, different kinds of bread and toppings. And a good smoothie, or maybe you want some tea?
༊*·˚ you both always eat together, she loves spending time with you. Especially the relaxing ones. But also, one of her favorites is going out with you helping the people. She has a very good understanding of humans and their emotions after all, and since shes so caring she loves to help around
༊*·˚ if you're not busy you're always free to join her
༊*·˚ loves to see you smile and be happy. She did live for 500 years but compared to the others its almost nothing, so you are her first true friend and she is greatful you let her discover friendship with you
༊*·˚ since shes super smart she teaches you a few things and is happy when you remember some of the things she said
༊*·˚ before you both call it a day she loves to sit in her swing, or you sit in her swing and you both gentle push each other while watching the stars
༊*·˚ sometimes you both even sleep together, cuddled up while reading together till one falls asleep first and puts the book away. Or you both simply talk about your day, your little adventures and what you both discovered
༊*·˚ she is all in all the most chilled person to be with like, pls----
FURINA - Her eyes... they're like the darkness at the bottom of the ocean
*ೃ༄ being with the hydro Archon is definitely...something?
*ೃ༄ she's super clingy in the morning, both wanting so spend all day together outside or in bed. It's hard decision for her...you do it pls
*ೃ༄ your at almost EVERY trail, sitting beside her. And honestly, with just your presence it's not boring anymore, or almost. She truly is less lonely with you around and feels more alive
*ೃ༄ it makes her all giddy inside and proud having you as hers. And because of this she will always gift you the most beautiful things! It's always something new everyday. Waking up and knowing at some time of the day she will surprise you with something new and exciting is worth going out of bed
*ೃ༄ you both also always eat out together, it's rare anyone of you cooks and eats at home. She'll always drag you to the fanciest restaurants to eat in pure elegance and flamboyance (Tengen that you?)
*ೃ༄ btw hugs make her feel better :)
*ೃ༄ if she ever notices you not paying attention, she'll lightly splash your face "Hehe, now you're awake again, so where we're we.."
*ೃ༄ I said she's clingy in the morning, but at night she holds her distance, till you both sleep and she unconsciously scoots closer till she cuddles you. Throughout the day she holds distance but somehow can appear clingy but not? She's a mystery, but she's your mystery
#genshin x reader#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin venti#venti x reader#genshin zhongli#zhongli x reader#genshin raiden#raiden x reader#genshin nahida#nahida x reader#furina x reader#genshin furina
296 notes
·
View notes
Text
You sat on your bed and let the silence envelope you, the scrunched up piece of paper in your hand giving you some peace of mind but at the same time, if you took the offer, everything you knew could be changed forever. It was hard to focus on anything, not when the smile of that handsome stranger was still fresh in your memory like it was yesterday. A few weeks ago, you went on vacation to Japan for a week or so and it was by far one of the most magical things you had experienced. It was not because of the food, it was not because of the culture or anything related to that.
The absolute highlight of your trip was a mysterious man named Dazai Osamu.
Your meeting with him was accidental but he called it fate. After saving him from a near drowning incident the man stuck by your side like glue, regardless of the dirty looks your family gave him. He proclaimed himself as your make shift tour guide, claiming that who else was better qualified to show you all the amazing sights in the city than a hot blooded local?
There really was no beating that logic.
In the end, Dazai spent the week with you and your whole family as bonus baggage. Whenever he could, he would take you all for himself and have long talks, many of which were an odd combination of silly and soul touching. The man was strange, jumping from silly antics to a profound man who had seen all of the pain and suffering in the world who just wanted to give you some (perhaps not necessarily) helpful advice and show you a good time.
"I see that look in your eyes." said Dazai on your last night in Japan. The two of you were walking and stopped to rest near the river he almost drowned himself in.
How poetic.
You remember turning to him, confusion written all over your face but Dazai's gaze was focused elsewhere. His tone was flat, but not unkind.
"Tired. You look so, so tired."
That summed up your situation quite well. You were tired. Everything, everyone, it was just so much. No matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed to be going your way. College was giving you a massive migraine, in your head the upcoming exams were less like pieces of paper and more like massive tsunami waves, ready to destroy you right where you stood and leave nothing behind. Your social life was no better, having lost a good chunk of friends due to either life getting in the way or you simply drifted apart. Some things just weren't meant to be and that was okay.
When was it all going to end though?
When were you going to be allowed to finally breathe?
Your family was of no help either. The constant fighting and shouting, their words cutting deeper than knives. "You are a failure."
"You are not trying hard enough."
"Why can't you just do better?"
Without warning, you felt the soft touch of Dazai's bandaged hand on your cheek.
You didn't even realize that you had started to cry.
His soft brown eyes held nothing but pure sympathy for you, the thin smile on his lips causing the flood gates to burst wide open as you threw yourself into his arms, full on sobbing into his coat as the man said nothing. One of his hands made its way to your back while the other was still on your cheek, the wetness of it staining his white bandages but he didn't mind. He wasn't going to tell you, but you were pretty like this. In tears, broken, weak.
...In his arms.
He did not know you for long but Dazai grew fond of you over the past week. Was it love? He certainly thought so! Or, at the very least, the beginning of love. He wasn't sure what he was feeling but one thing was for certain - he wanted you to stay.
The universe was kind to him, giving him an angel whose wings were already so damaged. The moment he saw you, he knew that all you wished for was to flee and never return, to move somewhere no one knew you and start fresh, away from everything and anyone that ever hurt you.
Dazai saw the opportunity. He siezed it like a true devil would. He planted the seeds inside your head and you had no clue.
"You know, you can always just stay here." said Dazai, a slight smile on his face. "My workplace is always hiring and I'm sure you would be perfect."
Was this even real? His kindness was otherworldly.
Even so, hesitation ate you up like nothing else before. Do you choose to fight your demons head on or will you run away into the unknown? The paper in your hand was a letter of recommendation which Dazai had written for you, all that needed to be done was for you to commit to the bit.
With feeling as if there was nothing else for you to lose, you grabbed your phone and dialed the number that was written on the other side of the paper. At almost lightning speed a cheerful "Hello!~" greeted you on the other side.
With a deep inhale, you said three words which would change the course of your life from that moment forward.
"Take me away."
You couldn't see it but Dazai was grinning on the other side of the phone. With a click of his tongue, all he said was:
"Consider it done."
You hung up, a smidge of relief washing over you. You were more than ready to leave the demons which haunted you right here, in your old home.
And yet, you had no idea just how horrible the next demon which was going to follow you around was actually going to be.
🥀 TAGS: @yanroma, @oneoftheprettynerds, @misdollface, @sxy0ung, @rosemary108233, @c4xcocoa, @gettinshiggywithit, @ophticcus, @lakxcpsta, @ranposgirlboss, @robinaxolotl, @acornwinter, @enomane, @ishqani, @satohruu, @bluepeanutharmony
#this is a partial vent piece#I've not been doing well lately#yandere#yandere x reader#yancore#yandere imagines#yandere x you#yanderecore#yandere aesthetic#yandere scenarios#dazai osamu x reader#osamu dazai x reader#bungo stray dogs#bungo stray dogs x reader#yandere dazai#yandere dazai osamu#yandere bungo stray dogs#yandere bungou stray dogs#yandere bungo stray dogs x reader#bsd#bsd dazai#bsd dazai x reader#yandere bsd#yandere bsd x reader#yandere male
383 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can we get the dorm leaders reaction to s/o telling them that Twisted wonderland is a game in her world? She gave them plenty of proof and even showed them the game on her phone.
Riddle's confused and extremely intrigued from this piece of information
Though he's more on the confused side of things. He's not so acquainted with technology so it's a hard time for him to discern what's true or fake
And honestly, your claims are so absurd it easily slips on his side as a prank. He'll be polite and look interested the whole time, but his brain is racing against time to make reason of it all
"Cater always tells me about this 'effects' things you can add to photos and there are plenty apps for image manipulation"
Dismisses all the proof you show him as a very dedicated prank of yours, because how could he be merely an AI when he very much feels very alive? Bullshit.
He lays down on his bed for a few nights with a deep sense of dread, being unable to sleep from all the doubt that creeps on his mind. He wants to believe that it's all just a lie, but what if it isn't?
Sleeps through half your essay about how everything he knows is a lie, growing in boredom as you stubbornly shove evidence, talking like some scientist presenting a thesis
Honestly half your argument has already gone through his head at some point so he's not truly impressed
Plays it cool saying you're gone nuts and that all this magic stuff fried your brain
"Geez easy now herbivore, nothing you're blabbering about makes sense", and he looks absolutely unnafected, shrugging it off
He can't help but dwell on it for some time though, but he'll never show it on your face or hesitate for even a moment in front of anyone
No, you are the crazy one, he's very much real. His pain is real, or else all the things he feels deeply rooted on his heart wouldn't hurt this much... right?
At first he's skeptical and scoffs off at your attempts at making his mind around your little antics
He's got the mind of a businessman, he's not falling for such childish pranks, no matter how well made that photoshopped image looks. Oh, wait, it's an app? Well, you're probably just teaming up with Idia to piss him off
His interest is piqued the moment he sees the cards with his face, and as you tell him it's a gacha game, his features light up for a fraction of a second - but then he remembers that you're trying to shove some absurd nonsense down his throat. No, it's not the time for profit thinking
Though you sure did gave him an idea, and he'll be sure to talk it out to Idia some other time
Azul keeps on a composed and rational feeling to him, one he pridefully shows to everyone around him, but he's got his insecurities and doubts, and now you just sparkled something inside his heart
He can't quite grasp it, but it always leaves him choking and uncomfortable, something alike to fear and anxiety, something he used to feel when he was the pathetic little octopus with too much time alone
For the first time after many years, he finds himself pondering about life, questioning everything he knows, a sense of dread tugging at the confines of his mind. He didn't like to think that maybe you were right, that everything he might have experienced was nothing but a cruel lie
Kalim can't quite grasp the concept of his existence being literally a video game, but he's the first one to not treat it like a joke
He's very interested on everything you says naturally, but he's very impressed to know that there's a game where he is a character!
"But... y/n, how could I be a literal game character when I'm right in front of you? Doesn't that mean that you are ficitional as well?"
He laughs light-hearted, taking things surprisingly well - because he can't understand he's not truly real. No matter how many screenshots you show, his wiki page, his cards, not even playing through the whole Scarabia arch will suffice to convince him
He just thinks you're a very talented person who made the game as some kind of diary or something, being inspired by everything that happened in Night Raven College
Eventually Kalim just convinces you to brush your point off, seeing how happy and entertained he looked. Maybe it's for the best to just allow him to eat up that lie
You wouldn't want to make Kalim sad now, would you?
Vil looks at you like you have just insulted his whole bloodline and then threw all his makeup on his face
Stands there in awkward silence, processing all the information and carefully picked proof, snatching your phone to look through it
By the end of this tense moment, he shakes his head, laughing out as if finally understanding that everything was merely a joke.
But you don't laugh back, instead looking him dead in the face
Vil's unsettled by everything, from the way you look at him and the new, hard to swallow information
He asks you to go to therapy and says that he'll be more than happy to accompany you, sincerely worried about you
He doesn't want to believe the things you showed him, so just like the others, he'll just settle on the idea of you playing a prank on him for the sake of his own mental health.
Idia.exe has stopped working
"I KNEW IT!!!!!!!!!!!!" shouts out once he snaps out of his paralyzed processation so loudly you're sure everyone at NRC could hear him
He looks mortified and equally thrilled as he goes on blabbering about some underground government bullshit
Red and blue pill kinda shit, you know? Talks about simulations and how he dreamed saw the walls around his room glitch for a moment while gaming (he's sleep deprived)
Shut him up or else he'll be wailing in his fake existence and talking to you about some conspirational theories he formulated with the source of his own brain
Malleus is eerily silent as you present him with all the information you have, a perfect display of your confidence and everything that just fell right like puzzle pieces
When you're done and looks up at him, expecting an answer, he stares back, his emerald eyes deep and piercing, silently rummaging through your features though his gaze made you feel like he was reaching directly for your soul
"I know," he responds simply, an amused smile creeping between his lips
With a nod of farewell, he turns on his heels and simply leaves, unbothered to give any kind of explanation
Malleus leaves you with an existential crisis, hanging where you stood without understanding a thing
He knows? How can he know? Is he programmed to say that? Is he truly an IA?
You're not sure and will never be, because Malleus never gives you an answer eveytime you poke at the matter, simply smiling warmly before resuming to his tasks
#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twst#twst imagines#twst scenarios#twst x reader#diasomnia#pomefiore#heartslabyul#ignihyde#savanaclaw#scarabia#octavinelle#riddle rosehearts#leona kingscholar#azul ashengrotto#kalim al asim#idia shroud#vil schoenheit#malleus draconia#twst malleus#twst idia#twst riddle#twst kalim#twst azul#twst vil#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader
277 notes
·
View notes
Text
not that i truly care what rando losers on tumblr dot com think about me but i did just get an obnoxious as fuck message telling me about how internet activism and sharing things online isn't actually activism, trying to shame me into not posting as much or "torturing myself" by watching and sharing pictures and videos of what's going on in gaza. and it pissed me off enough to say this:
One, Palestinians have asked people to share and boost their content. That is a direct fucking ask from people in Gaza and Palestinians around the world. I will keep watching and sharing these photos and videos because it is what we have been asked to do by the people who are themselves experiencing genocide. Yes, it is depressing, yes it emotionally and mentally fucks me up. 100%. But i will keep doing it.
Two, literally none of you have ANY fucking idea what i am doing in real life to fight for Palestinian liberation. I don't need anyone on tumblr dot com's validation or approval and i'm certainly not stupid enough to dox myself online when every zionist shitbag, the police, and every employer out there is already trying to do that. but believe me when i say i have dropped pretty much everything else in my life to fight as hard as i fucking can to stop this genocide and work towards the Palestinian liberation.
Three, everyone needs to be doing shit in real life to fight to end the genocides going on right now. Only posting online does not count as activism, true. So take your conversations offline as well. Talk to people you know about Palestine, Sudan, and Congo. Read books and learn the histories. Write to and/or call your elected officials and government leaders and even the fucking bureaucrats. Join local solidarity and action groups working towards Palestinian liberation: Dissenters; DSA; JVP; SJP; AMP; IfNotNow are all US based groups that have local state chapters (idk too many groups outside of the US, sorry international friends). Participate in BDS, personally boycotting brands yourself, demanding your schools, workplaces, organizations, institutions, and governments divest from Israel. Attend rallies and protests and disruptions and vigils. Write to your local, state, and larger newspapers and demand they cover this genocide without bias, call them out for their shitty zionist reporting; write op-eds and letters to the editors. Sign up for webinars. If you can't leave the house or attend in-person events, you can make signs and banners for people and groups who can go. Start or join a campaign to pass a ceasefire resolution in your town/city; testify at town/city council or public comment about it & write to your local elected leaders. Donate to Palestinian and and relief orgs and charities if you can. And yeah, keep fucking sharing and uplifting and boosting Palestinian posts and voices online. The media is trying to repress the fuck out of them, so you we need to do our part to make sure their voices are seen and heard as widely and as loudly as possible.
And four, don't be a pretentious dick to strangers on the internet. You don't know shit about what people are doing in their real lives. This is just common fucking courtesy
Free Palestine 🇵🇸
#free palestine 🇵🇸#free palestine#palestine#free gaza#gaza#gaza genocide#eyes on sudan#congo genocide#free congo#free sudan#from the river to the sea palestine will be free#🇵🇸
115 notes
·
View notes
Text
"It's safe to say that no matter what kind of sex we're having, with who, or at what time in our life, sex is always an experiment. In other words, we can never know for sure or guarantee that everyone will get off or even will enjoy themselves. Sometimes people orgasm and sometimes people don't, even when they're doing something they have reached orgasm from before in the exact same way as they did it when they got off the last time. Sometimes people have a good time and sometimes they don't, even when they're having sex with the same person, doing things they have enjoyed before.
It's great to want everyone involved, including you, to feel good -- emotionally and physically -- with and during sex and to experience pleasure and feel satisfied. Aiming for that is always the way to go, and by all means, sometimes everyone does reach orgasm and does have a great time. But if we feel like we desperately need that, and feel super-uncomfy with the possibility that orgasm or pleasure might not happen at any time, that can clue us in to some possibilities.
For example, it might be that you feel like orgasm is something you feel insecure or unvalidated without, whether that's about proving something to yourself or to a partner. It might be that you feel emotionally able to be with someone experiencing pleasure, but feel clueless or freaked about how to deal with it when you or someone else find something doesn't feel good or you or they don't feel good about something, which is understandable, since it's way easier to deal with everyone feeling great. Sex can be a place where we feel pretty vulnerable, including around what we can and can't offer someone else or they can or can't offer us, and what we or they feel our sexual value is. So, it's pretty easy to have insecurities around those things triggered when we have sex, especially if we're doing it for iffy reasons, going into it before we really feel emotionally ready for the good, bad and the completely-embarrassing, or are trying to prove something to ourselves or someone else. If any of those things feel true to you, it may be you need some more time to feel more secure in and confident about yourself, more time to feel safe and comfortable with that other person or to be with a different person altogether, some more education on what's realistic to expect with sex and sexual response (which tends to be very different IRL than in the movies, books or on TV) or even may just need to talk this stuff out with a partner for a while first."
From Sorting Maybe from Can't-Be: Reality Checking Partnered Sex Wants & Ideals by Heather Corinna
168 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
ladytective
be empty of worrying
k12academics
K12 Academics - Everything Education!
ladytective
be empty of worrying
baekabao
BAEKABAO
lastregasenzasorrisodimilano
BENVENUTI NEL MIO MONDO