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deal - cl16 (43/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: Getting ready for a party is always fun when the company is good.
Warnings: 18+ (mentions of sex), fluff, tiny bit of angst (body insecurity if you squint), alcohol consumption
Word Count: 3.5k
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A/N: cherry is still sick, but this needed to get out of my head. feedback is appreciated. love ya.
When Kika puts her bag on the living room table, it clinks suspiciously.
“My goodness, did you bring half the supermarket with you?” you ask her with a grin, which develops into a loud laugh when Pierre puts down a huge bag next to the door. ”And you brought your whole wardrobe too.”
“Of course I did,” she smiles, kissing your left and right cheek. ”After all, I don't know what you're wearing, and I thought we could coordinate our outfits a little.”
Pierre puts an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. “I'm glad you only packed one bag,” he says, kissing her temple. “Please pick up the other stuff off the floor tomorrow. The bedroom looks like a battlefield.”
Kika rolls her eyes but snuggles up against him. “You love me.” She looks up at him with her huge brown eyes as he leans down to her.
“I do,” he smiles against her lips, and the moment is so intimate that you leave them alone in the living room.
Charles is standing at the coffee machine in the kitchen and smiles at you as you enter the room. “Everything okay?”
You nod and sit down on one of the stools at the kitchen counter. "How long have they been together, by the way?”
“I think about two years," he replies, leaning on the edge of the kitchen counter behind him with his palms. ”They're cute, aren't they?”
“Absolutely,” you smile. "Almost a little too sweet. I fled the living room when I saw the way they looked at each other, like he was about to propose.”
Your roommate has to laugh. "You should see them together at a Grand Prix. A few drivers – myself included – have a bet on when he'll ask her to marry him.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Did you bet for money?”
The Monegasque raises his coffee cup to his mouth and takes a sip. "Yup.”
“And what was the stake?”
Charles hesitates and avoids your gaze. "100€.”
A grin spreads across your face. ”Can I still join?”
Your friend raises his eyes and looks at you in wonder, but before he can say anything, Kika and Pierre enter the kitchen. Pierre now places the heavy bag, which had just clinked suspiciously, on the kitchen island. Not a second later, the Portuguese woman reaches into the opening and pulls out a bottle of wine.
“Sweet,” she says and holds out the bottle for you to see. The brand doesn't look familiar, but the label is pink and the glass is a mint green, and the way your friend looks at you, you know exactly that you'll like the wine.
You take two wine glasses out of the kitchen cupboard and place them in front of her. “And what are the boys drinking?”
Charles puts his hand to his chest in mock outrage. "Boys? Boys?" He shakes his head. "We're men.”
You wrinkle your nose and grin at him. "Since when?”
Your roommate walks around the kitchen island and wraps his arm around your neck to put you in a light headlock. He presses you against the counter in front of you with his big body and whispers in your ear. “Do you want me to show you again?”
“Please get a room.” Kika grins and pours the wine into your two glasses.
Charles lets his arm slide from your neck to your collarbones, where it then remains. “You're in our apartment. You can just leave,” he replies annoyed, as if your friends' presence were preventing him from dragging you to the bedroom right now. Which maybe it is. But you don't want to think about that.
“Then I'll take this one back with me.” Kika reaches into her handbag again and pulls out another bottle, before placing it in front of you both. "For your beloved Moscow Mule.”
You don't need to look at the man behind you to know that he's grinning. "If you two ever break up, I'll keep Kika.”"
“Ouch,” Pierre says, pouting. "And I thought our friendship was more important to you than ginger beer.”
With his free hand, Charles grabs the bottle and lifts it up before smiling at the Frenchman. "I thought so too.”
“Okay, okay.“ Kika grabs her glass and the bottle of wine before looking at you. ‘You and I are going to get dressed up. You can play video games or something in the meantime." She kisses Pierre on the cheek before heading for the kitchen door. ”You coming?”
You nod, but turn around in Charles' arms to look at him again. “What are you going to wear?”
Your friend shrugs. “I was thinking of a simple black button-down," he replies, raising his hand to tuck a loose strand behind your ear. "Do you already have something in mind?”
You shake your head. ”Not really, no.”
Charles smiles gently at you before weaving his fingers through your hair before they come to rest at the nape of your neck. “You're sure to find something nice. You look perfect in anything, anyway.” He leans forward a bit and breathes a kiss on your forehead.
“You're disgusting!” Kika's voice sounds from the hallway.
Charles flips her the bird before letting go of you. “Go. Before you get into trouble. And let me know if you need anything.”
You smile at him briefly before taking your wine glass and following your best friend towards the bedroom. Once there, you watch as Kika empties her bag, which was just standing in the living room, onto the bed. “I don't want to imagine what your bedroom looks like at your place.”
“Believe me, it's actually better if you don't.” She grabs the clothes and starts sorting them on the bed. "How was your Christmas?”
You take a big gulp of wine. "Good.”
The Portuguese woman looks at you with raised eyebrows. “Wow, you tell it like I was already there.” She matches a white top to a dark red satin skirt. “Tell me. Did you visit Charles Mom?”
“We did,” you reply and sit down on the last free spot on the bed. “I haven't had such a nice Christmas in a long time.”
Kika smiles at you. “Did you two fuck?”
You almost drop your glass. "Kika!" you whisper indignantly and quickly close the door so that the men can't hear you. You lean back against the wood.
“So you fucked,” she grins and raises her wine glass to toast you. When you stare at her, she lowers her glass again. ”Y'all didn't fuck?”
“We didn't.”
“But you did something.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Like a curious little child, she draws up her legs and sits cross-legged, chin resting on her fist. “Tell me everything.”
You have to laugh. ”I thought we had to get ready for the party.”
“Tell. Me. Everything.”
And you do. You tell her everything that has happened in the last few days. About the night you gave Charles a massage and about the night on the boat. That he gave you an employment contract as a Christmas present so that you can be together permanently. About Christmas and last night, when you got closer than ever before. The way he called you “his girl”.
Kika listens intently and asks questions in between, but first and foremost she lets you say everything that is on your mind – and that seems to be quite a lot.
You tell her how confused you are because you don't know exactly where you stand with Charles. But also that it's okay for you, because as long as you can somehow participate in Charles's life, that's enough for you. It's like you're addicted to him – and every little dose you get of him draws you further under his spell.
When the men knock on the door an hour later, you've just finished and are catching your breath for the first time.
“Is everything okay?“ Charles asks, his eyes fixed on you. He seems to ignore the bed's mess – or he doesn't even notice it.
“Everything's fine,” you smile.
He nods and points at Pierre, who is standing behind him. “We just wanted to get pizza so that we can eat something decent before the party. What do you want on it?”
“Just a simple Margarita, please,” you reply, Kika gives the same answer.
Charles smiles at you. “Have you found an outfit yet?” When he sees the empty wine bottle on the dresser, he presses his tongue into his cheek. “Or did you have so much to talk about that you haven't had time yet?” He raises an eyebrow. He knows exactly what you've been talking about for the last hour.
Warmth rises to your cheeks. “The latter.”
Your roommate nods again. "Okay. You still have a little time. We're on our way. See you in a bit," he says goodbye and closes the door behind him.
Kika looks at you. ”He's right. We really should start thinking about what we want to wear.”
As if you were at a fashion show, you try on everything that could possibly go with the club. Dark red dresses, the little black dress, satin trousers and corsets that accentuate the décolleté. But somehow there is nothing that convinces you.
Annoyed, you lie down on the bed with your back on it, the clothes are spread out on the floor of the room. Kika lies down next to you.
“Is it always like this?” you ask her, crossing your arms over your face.
“What do you mean?”
You breathe out loudly. “It's the first time I'm consciously out and about with people who are famous. Is it always so exhausting to find something appropriate so you don't embarrass yourself?”
“I think you get used to it,” the Portuguese woman replies. ”I had to learn that too at the beginning. That there are some items of clothing that suit your figure and some that don't. And just because something looks good on you doesn't mean you feel comfortable in it.”
“And how do you do it?” you ask her, looking at her. "I mean, you're a model. You obviously look good in anything. But – I don't know.”
Kika shrugs. "It took me a long time to feel comfortable in certain things. But most of the time I actually wear things that I didn't have to be convinced of at all. And then I don't care what others say about me. I feel comfortable – and I want to keep it that way.” When you don't answer, she grabs your hand. "It'll get easier. And until it does, you've got me by your side." She nudges you in the side. ”And your roommate, who practically undresses you with his eyes.”
You roll your eyes mock-annoyed. “He doesn't.”
“He does,” she grins. “But that's okay. After all, you're absolutely perfect. You could go to the club in a potato sack and you'd look bombastic.”
“Well,” you say. “Unfortunately, I don't have a potato sack here that I could put on.”
When the door suddenly opens, you both jump. The boys are standing in the doorway, Pierre has two pizza boxes in his hand and Charles a smaller black box.
“Where have you been? It's been almost an hour since you left” Kika asks, getting up from the bed.
“We had to get something,“ says Pierre, motioning for her to follow him. As Kika takes your wine glasses and the two of them leave the bedroom, Charles sits down on the bed next to you.
“I brought you something,” he smiles, placing the box on the mattress between you.
You sit up and examine the box. “What is it?”
Your roommate shrugs. “You asked me what to wear to parties in Monaco, and I still owe you an answer.”
Slowly, you reach for the box and take off the lid. Inside, wrapped in dark red paper, is a dress. Black and long, with thin straps and a low-cut back. As you carefully take it out of the box, you are speechless.
“Do you like it?” He asks and watches you get up from the bed and hold it up properly.
You stare at it, mouth agape. "Where did you get this?" You ask him, holding it up to your body and looking at yourself in the mirror.
“It's not important. Do you like it?“ he asks again, his eyes glued to you.
“It's gorgeous,” you breathe, turning a little to get a better idea of how it would look on you. “I—how much did it cost? I'll definitely pay you back the money.”
“Absolutely not,” he replies immediately and with a tone that allows no argument. "It didn't even leave a small dent in my bank account." He gets up and stands behind you. He's so close that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. "You'll look stunning in it.”
You look at him through the mirror. “And if you put on your black shirt, we'll even match,” you smile, before carefully hanging the dress over the sideboard.
Charles wraps his arm around you to press you against him. You feel his hardness against your lower back as he leans down to you and places feather-light kisses on your neck. “That was the plan,” he whispers, and goosebumps spread across your body where his hot breath caresses your skin.
His hand moves under your sweater and his fingertips slowly glide over your ribs before his thumb hesitantly slides under the fabric of your bra. Breathing heavily, you lean your head against his shoulder and give him more room on your neck as his thumb slowly circles around your nipple.
“Charles,” you breathe softly and arch towards him. You want more. So much more.
When Kika's voice echoes through the apartment, you break away from each other. ”Come on! The pizza will get cold!”
With hot cheeks and wet panties, you let Charles lead you into the living room, where the other couple is already sitting on the couch eating pizza. Another bottle of wine is on the table in front of Kika, who is refilling your glasses.
Although the couch is big enough, Charles pulls you right next to him on the cushion and puts your legs over his lap. For a moment, you wonder if he's doing this just so the others can't see his boner.
“Here,” Kika smiles, handing you a slice of pizza, which you accept gratefully.
The four of you eat dinner together and chat about Christmas, Charles‘ upcoming training camp and New Year's Eve, while the boys’ pizza boxes, wine bottles and drinks get emptier and emptier.
“I was thinking of throwing a New Year's Eve party,” Kika says, putting her wine glass back on the table. ‘You're obviously invited. I wanted to invite a few other friends, but your attendance is most important to me.”
“Well, I'd love to come,’ you smile, looking at Charles. ”Unless you have something else planned.”
The Monegasque shakes his head. “Unfortunately, I won't be back from camp until the afternoon, so we'll probably see each other again at the party first. But until then, you'll be in good company for sure.”
“Excuse me?” Kika says indignantly. “I'm the best company!”
Pierre puts his arm around his girlfriend and kisses her on the cheek. ”For me, definitely.”
Kika leans against her boyfriend before gently kissing him. “I know.”
Charles quickly grabs a pillow and throws it at them. “Please get a room!” He jokes, repeating Kika's words. When she flashes him her middle finger, he can't help but laugh. “Come on, you two. Get ready. We have to leave soon.” He runs his fingers over your shins before smiling at you. “Go put on your new dress.”
You can't stop smiling. “See you in a bit.”
While the men continue to chat, Kika and you get ready. With professional precision, she applies make-up on your face before doing your hair and then taking care of herself. The Portuguese woman decides on a short black dress with pearl embroidery. When she is finished styling herself, she helps you into your new dress.
“Careful with the straps,” she smiles as she pulls it up your body. You put your arms through it carefully so as not to damage it. When you're dressed, Kika looks at you skeptically. "The bra has to go.”
You look at her with a raised eyebrow. "You want me to go out without a bra?”
“Don't you have an invisible bra?” When you shake your head, she purses her lips into a thin line. ”Then you'll have to go out without a bra. Unfortunately, the straps are so thin that you can see the bra underneath either way. But we can tape over the nipples if you like. At least they won't be visible in the cold outside.”
Without further ado, she disappears from the room and while she is looking for something to cover the nipples with in the apartment, you examine yourself in the mirror in your room, but no matter how you turn, it is too small to see you from top to bottom. On bare feet, you walk to Charles' bedroom across the hall, where the new, larger mirror is leaning against the wall.
The satin dress clings to your curves and accentuates your body exactly where it should. There is a slit on the left side that reaches to the middle of your thigh and the back neckline is so low that you couldn't pull your thong all the way up because it would otherwise show.
You examine yourself in the mirror and don't even notice that Charles is leaning against the doorframe until he starts talking.
“Let's stay home,” he suggests, his expression impenetrable. He is wearing his black shirt as promised, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looks wickedly handsome.
You smile at him and try to suppress the dirty thoughts that are trying to take over your brain. “We can't cancel now,” you reply. “First of all, the others are already here, and secondly, Lando is definitely waiting for us.”
“I don't care.” With quiet steps, he moves towards you without taking his eyes off you. Like a predator that stares at its prey before it snaps.
You turn to him. ”You have very good taste, Charles. The dress is perfect.”
He answers without hesitation. “Not as perfect as the woman wearing it." The Monegasque stands directly in front of you and looks down at you. "Let's stay home," he suggests again. His large hands find their rightful place on your hips and pull you towards him. His eyes glow seductively.
“It would be rude to cancel now.”
“It wasn't a request,” he whispers, turning you so that you are standing with your back to him. Once again, you can see him through the mirror. He grabs the flesh of your hip with one hand, while the other hand wanders over your upper body until it rests on your neckline. ”That dress was definitely a mistake.”
You look at him, confused. “Why? I thought you liked it?”
“That's not the point,” he whispers, kissing your bare neck. His stubble scratches a little, but you couldn't care less. "I just don't know how to hold back when you look like this." His teeth graze the soft skin below your ear. ”God, you look devine.”
His hand slides gently into the dress from above and encloses your bare chest. At the same time, a soft moan escapes you. “Charles.”
“Merde,” he curses and presses you against him. “How am I supposed to keep my fingers to myself when I know you're not wearing a bra?”
As his fingers gently play with your nipple, you bite your lip. “Who said you had to?” you tease him, whereupon his other hand gently rests on your neck, though not squeezing. Sadly.
“I can't wait to be back here later,” he gasps and presses a final kiss on your shoulder before taking his hands off you. You watch him fix his erection in his pants so that it can't be seen. But it's there, you know that. And just the thought of it gets your blood pumping. ”And then neither of us leaves this bed until I say so.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?” you ask, tilting your head so he can see the red marks on your skin where his beard has left its mark
Charles suppresses the urge to pull you close and throw you onto the new bed to fuck you relentlessly until your legs give out and you forget your name. He flexes his hand. “Both, mon amour. Definitely both.”
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Seat 332
Summary: The seat he always reserved for you, it's now hers.
Warnings: cursing.
You hug Aurora as the two of you jump happy.
"I'm so happy." Aurora says, tearing up a little bit. "I'm sorry, I need a moment." She says, walking out of the room.
You turn to face Gavi. He has the biggest smile anyone could ever have. He opens his arms, walking over to you.
You carefully hug him, head between his neck and shoulder. "I'm so happy for you, Pablito." You say.
He tightens the hug, kissing your forehead. "I'm happy too." He says. "I can't wait to be on the field again."
Gavi got the green light to start training on the training camp, not like the others, but finally, he's able to run, to juggle the ball, to be out.
"And maybe I'll be able to play against Sevilla." He smiles, a smile that might hurt later. "I can't wait."
You separate from the hug, grabbing his cheeks. "I'm going to be there for you, I'll be the loudest on the stadium when I cheer your name." You smile at him.
He moves his hand and places it on the back of your neck, bringing you in for a kiss. You don't waste one second and return the action.
"I kinda like having my own cheerleader." He smirks. Giving you another peck.
You laugh at his tone, grabbing his hand, walking with him to the living room. His parents and Aurora have smiles and tears.
Finally, after so long and after everything Gavi went through, he was able to go back to the field and do what he loved the most, play.
"We are so happy, mijo." Belen says, hugging him. "You are going back to play."
His father joins the hug. They were telling him how happy they were about his return, even when it was just to training.
It was a big step for everybody. After the times when Pablo didn't want to see anyone and used to cry himself out of the frustration of being in bed while his friends played. Horribly but played. (Don't fight me on this, last season was bad)
His family was grateful for your support to Pablo. You have known him since school, and your support was very important to him and to them.
You and pablo were friends, even when you looked like the typical couple. You never officially become anything other than his friend, and tell people that you were fine like that.
"Let's go out to eat." Pablo Sr. says. "We need to celebrate this big moment."
Pablo pulls you to the front door, intertwining your hands. Pablo asked you what you are eating. Naming you different things off the menu.
"I want a piece of cake." He says, opening the door for you. "Want to share?" He asks, passing his arm around your shoulders.
You nod to him, giving him a kiss. You were careful with the picture and places. You know that since you two aren't labeled, you don't want to deal with the fans.
You were fine letting people think you were Aurora's friend. You were thankful to have some pictures with them from when you were kids.
Fans have seen that and thought nothing of it. So they didn't really care when you were with Aurora at the games.
"We are going to Sevilla this weekend." Pablo says. "Want to join us?"
You shake your head no. "I have a lot of work to do." You explain.
He rests his head on your shoulder. "I'm going to miss you." He says, sighing.
Gavi's parents ask you about college. They were happy that it was going well for you. You wanted to be a physiotherapist.
They wanted you to succeed. They have known you since you were a child, and when you went out of your way to help Pablo during his recovery. They got closer to you and got to know you better.
You became closer to him because you two met up at a common friend birthday party. You told him that you moved to Barcelona to study.
He contacted you over Instagram. You two began talking, and then he invited you to a game. You, as a cule, said yes immediately.
Since then, you got closer and started a small fling. You never cared that it was an in and out situation. He was an old friend and he liked you.
Pablo and you excuse yourselves. He has training in the morning, and you were going to help him with his therapy routine.
"Do you want me to help you with your exercise?" You ask, checking on him as he does what his physio instructed him.
He shakes his head no, trying to act tough and uninterested. "I'm almost done." He says.
You enjoy the show he's pulling. His face went from normal to a red one as he refused to ask for help. All that only to look cool for you.
You can't help but laugh at how his arms are shaking thanks to the effort he is putting into the exercise.
"Pablo, let me help you." You say, getting up and walking up to him. Grabbing the weight he's using. "Let's do it together." You say, kissing his temple.
You work out with him. Doing it slowly and helping him take the proper rest in between sets.
"You see?" You ask him. Leaving the weight on the floor. "A little help won't hurt you."
He chuckles, giving you a kiss. "Want to shower with me?" He asks, hiding his sweaty face on your neck.
You nod, grabbing his hand and walking upstairs with him.
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"Have you noticed that we are always placed in the same seats?" Aurora asks, walking with you around the now empty stadium.
"We do?" You ask, confused. "How do you know that?"
"I was checking the seating on the last few games. Don't ask me why cause I just did it out of boredom."
You turn, looking at where the seats are located. "Never noticed that. We can ask Pablo why is that."
"Ask me what?" Pablo says. He was behind you.
He grabs your arm, pulling you against his chest. You laugh at his roughness. "Pablo!" You say in between giggles.
"Pablo, careful." Aurora warns him.
Pablo shush Aurora, giving you a kiss. You feel him wrapping his arms around you. "What do you wanna ask me, guapa?" He whispers to you before returning to kissing you.
You separate. "I don't even remember anymore." You say, making him chuckle. "Ready to go?" You ask, making him nod.
You were taking them to the airport after the game. Even when he isn't ready to play, he wants you at the games.
He says that it's for you and his family to get used to him playing again. You love it when he includes you into his plans.
"Let's go, lovebirds." Aurora says, walking away from you. "We don't want to hit traffic."
You walk to the car, thanks to the wait in the stadium, there was not much traffic. You needed to pick something at Gavi's house before the airport.
"I'll be quick." Aurora says, running to the house.
Gavi was singing some song he had on the playlist of his recovery. He was focused on his phone.
You then remember what Aurora told you about the seats. You want to ask him, so you turn the music down.
"I just remembered what I wanted to ask you." You tell him, bomping his nose with your finger.
"A ver, dime."
"Aurora pointed out that we always sit in the same seats." You explain. "Why is that?" You ask.
He smiles, getting closer to you and giving you a small kiss. "I memorized where the seat was." He explains. His fingers combing your hair. "That way, when I scored, I know where to look. I know that you'll be there."
You can't help the big smile that you have. He was looking for you after every goal. After every asist, he knows where to look to find you.
"Seat 332" He says. "That's the one I always ask for."
You were about to say something, but Aurora joined the two of you in the car. She apologizes for the inconvenience of having to stop at Pablo's house for her makeup bag.
"Let's go!" She says happy. "I can't wait to be home."
You smile, happy that they got to go home. The rest of the drive consists of Pablo singing every song that plays and Aurora asking you to change the song because Pablo was ruing it.
When you got to the airport, Gavi helped his sister with the luggage. Telling her that he will carry them for her.
"I'll call you when I'm back." He says, putting his head inside the car. "A kiss goodbye?" He makes duck lips.
You giggle, giving him a kiss. "Have fun, bye."
pablogavi added to closefriends
You liked Gavi's story. Answering his dm. He let you know that he was still in Sevilla and that he was having fun.
You forgot to answer him. You were busy with some paperwork you were procrastinating. You needed to finish if you want to see him after he come back from Sevilla.
You tell him that you will be out of the radar for a few days, and when he comes back you will text him when you are free.
You spend your days working and going to uni. You had to study hard if you want to pass with a good grade.
Aurora told you that she gave your greetings to your abuelita and that she sent you something with Pablo.
You thank her and tell her that you'll talk to Pablo to get whatever she sent you. Going back to the books and the studying.
You spend more than you should without reporting you. Gavi went missing in action, too.
You didn't even notice, your phone was running in low battery from all the working and studying you are doing.
You were going back to your place, happy that you finally get to relax and to be free from all the books, all the papers and all the sleepless nights.
You find a very known car parked in front of your house. You get down of your own car, passing beside it like you didn't know.
"Hello, señorita." Gavi says, smiling with such pride. "I'm looking for someone. Maybe you can help me."
"Oh, hi Mister." You follow his act. "Can you describe this person to me?"
"She's pretty." He began, taking his glasses. "Very pretty. She's a very smart girl, with beautiful hair and a very pretty shiny eyes."
You blush with his words. You love it when Gavi talks about you like that. It makes you feel some type of way.
"I might know her." You answer shyly.
He laughs at your red cheeks. He exits his car, walking over to you and hugging you. "I missed you." He whispers in your ear. Leaving a kiss there.
"I missed you too," you say to him. "Let's get inside. It's really hot." You wave air with your hand.
You grab his hand and open your door. You noticed he has something in his hands. You look at him with a doubtful expression.
"Your abu sends you this." He hands you the bag. "She mentioned to me that you need to open it and try it."
You thank him for bringing you what your grandma sent you. You even thank him for going to see her and spend time with her.
You spend the rest of the day with him, cuddle on the couch, and watch his favorite movies. He was telling you about his family reunion, his trips around Sevilla. Everything.
"What if we go out to eat?" He asks, kissing your hair. "I know I shouldn't break the diet, but I just want to go out with you."
You nod, kissing him and going to freshen up. You fix your hair and brush your teeth. Apply more lip oil and reapply perfume.
He drives to your favorite restaurant, he asks for a corner table, not wanting to he spotted or bother when he's with you.
You tell him about your last few days, how stressed you were, and why you didn't answer any of his texts.
He loves hearing you talk about your day, even when it was just a ramble of two things or about the same thing over and over but in different situations.
"Do you want dessert?" He asks.
You shake your head no. You want to even unbutton your jeans because of how full you feel. Even breathing makes you feel fuller.
"Then let me pay, and we are on our way." He says, calling the waitress to pay.
You two walk out of the restaurant. Gavi has a hoodie that he had in his car. He asks you if you want to walk around, you say yes.
"Mom says that when she's back, she will teach you how to make that cake you loved." He smiles, hugging you by the waist. "That way, when you learn how to make it, you can make it for me."
"I will make it for you whenever you want to." You kiss his cheek. "Stay with me tonight, yes?"
He nods, tightening the grip he has on you. You two pass a man selling single roses. Gavi bought one for you. Handing it to you and stealing a quick kiss.
yourusername has added to closefriends.
"Do you want to go out tonight?" Alexa, your friend, asks you.
"I can't. Have something to do." You lie.
That thing you had to do was Pablo coming over to stay inside with you. He called you earlier and asked you to be home.
He was getting food for the two of you and wanted to see this new movie that he was too busy to see.
"Okay then." She shrugged. "If you change your mind, we are going to be at La Bodega. Text me." You nod, saying goodbye.
You drive home, listening to your shared playlist that Gavi created for you. That way, when you were together, the songs you liked were going to mix.
As soon as you get home, you clean the small mess you have in the living room. You take a shower to erase the sweat from the weather.
You decide to watch your show while you wait. Making time for Gavi to get out of whatever he's doing.
After a few episodes, you realize that Pablo was later than what he usually is. You check your phone to see if he texted you or something.
Nothing.
You sent him a text asking if he was okay. You want to make sure that it was just him being late, or maybe he got caught up doing something else.
After the first five minutes, you thought < maybe he's busy >
After ten, you started to worry. < what if during recovery, he hurt himself? >
After more than an hour, you decide to call him. The beeping of the line and the authorized voice of his voice mail made you even more worried.
You tried again. Nothing.
You calm yourself, maybe he got busy with something and couldn't come. Maybe he's in a meeting and you were interrupting.
You continue watching your show, trying to leave the worry away. He was fine. He has to be.
You get up and prepare yourself some instant Ramen. Your plans of waiting for Pablo are now long forgotten.
You didn't understand, but you didn't make it bigger. Two missed calls and a few unread texts were everything you did, and it was enough.
At one time, you turn your tv off. Walking to your room and getting into bed. You check your phone one last time, confirming that Pablo read your texts but didn't answer them.
He was going to explain himself later. It was all okay.
But... was it?
Pablo took not one day or maybe two. It took him five days before he showed up at your door.
You might think that after the texts, the missed calls, after you basically were dead worried about him.He was going to explain himself.
Thar he was going to give you the resume of what happened for him to be ignoring you like that.
But no, Pablo didn't do that.
He even asked you why you were blowing up his phone. HE was confused.
"Gavi, you told me you were coming and when you didn't. I got worried." You tell him, sitting next to him on the coach. "I even thought that maybe something happened to you during recovery."
He opens his eyes. "No, don't say that." He chuckles. "God, no."
"Then what happened?" You ask, hand on his cheek. "Tell me."
He thinks for a while, not sure what to tell you to calm you down.
"Aurora and Javi got into a fight." He says. "And I needed to be there for her. You understand that my sister was in distress and I wasn't going to leave her alone. I'm sorry I got busy, I really am."
You calm down, believing his dumb story. "No, you did the right thing." You say, caressing his skin. "I just got worried, that's all."
He pushed your head towards him. Giving you a kiss. "I'll make it up." He smiles, not worried Bout a single thing. "Now, why don't we watch that movie I told you about?" He asks, kissing you again.
You nod, letting the whole thing slide.
Oh boy, you were wrong for that.
After letting Pablo get away with that, he started to act differently. You blame it on him being stressed about the Sevilla game. Maybe he wanted to train extra hard and be prepared for anything.
You call him out for that. He apologized and invited you out. Insisting on going to dinner as a way for him to apologize.
He asked you to meet there since he was going straight up after training. He told you that the Mister decided for training to be in the evening.
You got yourself ready. Got your makeup on, your pretty hair well done. You got your nice perfume on.
All of that for him to be more than an hour late.
"Hey!" You say calling the waitress attention. "Can I get the check?"
She takes a look at your table, the empty bottle of soda, and your sad look was enough for her to feel bad.
"It's okay." She smiles. "It's on the house."
You thank her, already feeling too embarrassed to fight her for the check. You left some money for her, as a thank you.
You drive home, mad that you let this happen. You were expecting more from him, only to be let down by your own expectations.
You log into social media, trying to forget about your anger at him, only to find out a picture of him from only like thirty minutes ago.
gavirafan06
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gavirafan06 Gavi with a fan tonight.
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ferminxgavi wait is that the girl they are talking about on twitter?
gavirafan06 apparently they were out with his sister and his mom 🤔
masialover10 they say her user is @/antogmz but her account is private tho
He was out with someone else, and his mom and sister were with him.
You were waiting for him, and he didn't even have the decency of calling you and canceled the date.
You throw your phone to the bed. Went to the bathroom and did your skincare. You feel down, Gavi wasn't like that. Not with you.
You give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she was a fan who was casually in the back or someone else.
You don't want to make assumptions. You want him to explain himself. Even when you already decided that he was innocent.
Aurora called you the next day. Asking you if you wanted to go out and have some lunch together. You agreed to meet her.
She asked you to pick her up, thing that you agree with, too. You got ready and drove to her brother's house.
You want to talk with Gavi, ask him why he didn't showed up, but you don't want to look pushy or like a bother.
You ring the doorbell. After a few seconds, you are greeted by Belen. She got happy to see you, hugging you and pulling you inside the house.
You make small talk with her, she mentioned how much she wants you to come over so you can learn those food recepies you always ask her.
"I promise that I'll make time to come sometime around this week." You say, waving goodbye at her.
Aurora and you walk out. She was happy to see you and be able to talk to you. You were happy too, she was an amazing friend to you.
"Are you coming tonight?" She asks casually.
You look at her, confused about what she's talking about.
"What's tonight?" You ask. "I've been busy, and I've been forgetting things, sorry." You say, pretending to understand what she meant.
"Pablo is hosting a barbecue. His friends from Sevilla are in town, and he wants to celebrate with them." She exolains to you. "You remember now?" She laughs.
You nod, smiling at her. You feel your stomach turning. Gavi got the friends you two have in common, invited them, and left you out.
"Aurora, can I ask you a question?" You ask her.
"You just did." She jokes, making you roll your eyes as you chuckle. "Go on, ask me."
"But, promise me you'll be honest with me." You say, frown in your face.
She stops eating to look at you with a serious face. "Of course. What is going on?"
You think the question a few moments. You don't know how to deliver it and make it sound like a doubt, and not like a desperate thing.
"Is Gavi seeing anyone?" You finally ask.
She starts coughing. Lifting her hand for you to give her a moment. "Sorry, I ate too quickly." She lies.
You hand her the glass of water, trying to help her pass the food. "You okay?"
She nods, gaining composure. "Sorry, yes. I am." She says, drinking water. "Why are you asking me that?" She asks back.
You shrug. "He's been kind of ghosting me." You explain. "And I don't want to hurt myself and think that maybe what we have is going to work and then find out that he is seeing someone else."
She softened the expression on her face. "Y/n." She sighs. "Pablo likes you more than he cares to confess." She says, grabbing your hand. "Believe me when I tell you that he only thinks about you."
You smile at her. Happy with her answer.
"He's been busy." She excuses him. "With all the training and him wanting to be as ready as possible for the match, I think he's been out of the blue."
You nod, understanding that he was worried about his comeback. Busy with his own life and trying to make it out as if.
"Well, I'm calmer now that you tell me that." You smile at her. "Thank you." You say, squishing her hand.
You go on with your day, the bright smile you have on your face was something nobody was taking away.
You drive Aurora home, asking her to tell her mom that yoh will be back to learn everything she wants to teach you.
You then drive back home. You need to finish some projects. You texted Gavi, letting him know that Aurora told you Bout the barbecue and asking if he needed anything.
He only texted that he would come over to talk.
You don't pay mind to that. Finishing with your homework and even using the free time to do some upcoming projects.
You don't notice the time passing by, until someone knocks on your door. You check the time. It was 5 pm.
"Hola," you smile at Gavi. Moving to the side to let him in. "Before you say anything, Aurora already told me that you've been busy and very tired and I totally understand why you forgot about dinner."
He frowns, not even understanding what you meant by that. "Okay." He says, shrugging. "Talking about Aurora, you told me she invited you over tonight?" He asks.
You nod happy. "She did. That's why I was asking if you needed me to bring something."
He scratches the back of his neck. Trying to find a way to say what he was about to say.
"Are you oka-" You were asking, until you got interrupted by him.
"You can't come." He says. The serious tone of his voice makes you shiver.
You frown. Looking at him not understanding.
"What?"
He sighs. "You are not invited." He says, looking annoyed. "Aurora wasn't supposed to invite you, and frankly, I don't want you there."
You feel the knife stabbing you in the heart. He didn't want you there. You stayed silent for a few minutes.
He's trying to read your blank expression, but he can't.
Your vision becomes blurry. "Oh." You whisper. "Okay."
He feels bad about hurting your feelings.
"Y/n, list-"
"You should go." You interrupt him. "It's getting late, and you'll have people over." You say, walking to the kitchen.
You don't want him to see you cry, but you can't help the sob that scapes your lips. That makes him feel even worse.
"Preciosa, listen." He tries one more time.
"No, Pablo." You turn around mad. "You need to leave." You say, stern tone. "Now!"
You clean your tears. You refuse to cry in front of him. You don't want to show him how much this situation is affecting you.
"Why are you so mad?" He asks, exasperated. "You act as if you are my fucking girlfriend." He shouts.
You pass from the sadness to anger in one sentence. Your fight mode activates.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Pablo." You say, trying to hide the angry sob that scapes your lips. "I'm sorry that I act as if I'm someone you treat me like. I'm sorry I'm crying because I genuinely thought that you cared about me, and now I'm realizing that you don't. "
He rolls his eyes. That only makes you feel so much fury.
"I do care about you." He says. "But fuck, I never told you we were a thing. You assumed things up, and now you are blaming me for it."
You let out a laugh. "I assumed?" You ask. "I assumed things up when you called me all those nicknames? Huh?" You start pointing out. "I assumed things up when you held my hand, kissed my lips, slept over in my bed? Huh?"
He's silent, knowing that there's no going back from here. "Liste-"
"No!" You shout. "Did I assumed things up when you were fucking me?" You ask, the bitter tone is evident. "I gave you everything, Pablo. And you can't even give me a decent excuse. Are you really blaming me?"
"Did I asked you to give me all that?" He asks.
That simple question makes you understand everything. Your energy got all down. You don't even want to keep talking.
"You are right." You nod. "You can leave now, message received."
He stops the hard frown that's on his face. He softens his look. What he just did was not what he wanted to happen.
He wanted for you to understand that he never wanted something serious, but he let it go for more than he should.
And even when he does like you, he can't be with you like he wants to. He needs to keep his distance, and you are making things more difficult than it should be.
"Go, please." You beg, trying to hold the tears. "Enjoy your party, and I hope you enjoy playing again."
You walk away from him. If he wanted to stand there, you weren't going to see it. You slam the door of your room.
You place a pillow on your face, yelling the frustration on it. Shutting the scream that your heart was letting out.
Gavi left, slamming the door on his way out. He cursed everything that was on his view radar. Blaming himself and his stupid boy mind. But not enough for him to turn around and do the right thing.
You cry into your pillow. You are hurt and confused about why he was acting like that.
He wasn't your Pablo, the one who brings you flowers just because.
He wasn't your Pablo, the one who takes you out on dates and walks after training because he misses you. Even when he saw you before training.
He wasn't your Pablo.
But not even Pablo was your Pablo.
You feel tired and falling asleep during the crying process.
When you woke up with a headache and puffy red eyes, you know it wasn't a dream. Gavi just told you that he doesn't see you the way you see him.
You got up, walked to your bathroom, and washed your face. You shrugged and decided to take a shower.
Your day began good, you even had some fun time with Aurora. Who would've thought that I was going to be the last time you did that.
You slowly do your night routine, trying to feel better. As if that's what you need. You order take out and decide to eat it while watching your show.
When you get tired, you open your Instagram. The first post is a story Gavi posted. You click on it and enter his profile, unfollowing him.
You think for a second. Angerly deciding that you were not only going to do that but also blocking him in the process.
You went then to your feed, refreshing it after a while. It didn't have anything good for you to engage.
You move to Twitter. The first thing you find is a tweet about this girl named Antonella. She apparently was Gavi's new fling.
You read through the tweets, finding out that she was the girl that the Instagram comments were talking about.
You read that someone mentioned her Instagram account. Deciding that it wasn't enough pain for one day, you went back to Instagram. Searching her.
You click her profile, noticing something very interesting. She follows you. You clicked on "follow back" requesting to follow her.
You don't have to wait that long after she accepts your follow request. You go straight to her posts, stalking her like a crazy fan.
You find something very interesting. Gavi liked and commented on her posts. But that didn't really surprised you.
It was Aurora's likes and comments on her page. Commenting like she knew her from all her life. You were closed to the two of them, and you can't remember anyone with that name or that looks.
You click on her story, only to find out why Gavi didn't want you at his barbecue.
antogmz has added to her story
You know Pablo a little too much to recognize him. And even if you have a little doubt about it, the background gives you all the answers.
He was at his house. He threw a party with all the friends you thought you two shared. But they aren't your friends if they know he's with someone else and decide to hide it from you.
You block your screen. Tired of going out of your way to make Gavi someone so on top of everything. You can't keep putting him before you. Not anymore.
What hurt you the most was that Aurora knew about it.
You can't blame her for siding with Gavi. She's his sister, so it was obvious that she was going to prioritize him over you.
But when you asked her if Pablo was seeing someone else, she denied it. Telling you that he likes you and that he only thinks about you.
She lied to you, giving you fake expectations.
You blink the tears away. You don't want to cry. You already feel dumb enough to keep humiliating yourself for him.
After a while, you open your phone again, you don't want to think about him. You start to see the insta stories of your friends.
That's when you see the one from Aurora.
aurorapaezg has added to her closefriends.
You see the tags on her story. It was everyone. The only one who wasn't invited was you. And you can't get mad, the sadness overpowering every feeling.
You tried to distract yourself, checking your feed again to see what's happening. Maybe finding a funny video or something. But no.
You click on that one picture even when you know it was going to hurt.
gavixpedri
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gavixpedri New picture of Gavi and his alleged girlfriend @antogmz in his Barcelona home.
There's rumors that she's going to be at the game against Sevilla. If that's true, then this will confirm their relationship.
Gavi and Anto have been linked up since a few weeks ago. People from Sevilla mentioned that he was seen with her on different occasions.
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gavilover9 I thought aurora's friend was his girlfriend
gavixpedri No 😭 she's only a friend after all
barcamessi10 this is the hardest launch I've ever experienced 😭😭😭 he was in recovery a few weeks ago and now he has a girlfriend
gavixpedri I knowwww 😔 we missed a lot of chapters. I stayed at the one where Y/n and him were allegedly a thing 😭
This was from the same night that he left you waiting on the restaurant. He was with her.
You try to stay as low profile as you could. Gavi tried to contact you over text and tried calling. You left all his messages go to voice mail and made sure to mark as read all his texts.
You were coming back from Uni when you found that particular car parked in front of your house. You take your keys out, walking without stopping.
You were about to walk inside your house when you felt an arm pulling you away from the door.
"Just give me five minutes." He begged.
"No!" You say, stern tone. "Let go off me." You order him.
"Four?"
"Let go off me, Pablo." You say again.
"Only one, please. I'm begging you." He beggs.
Those stupid puppy eyes he has are making the devils work. You can't say no to that, and he knows it.
"I'm counting, so you better start talking." You say, lifting your arm to see your watch.
He let go of your arm. "I'm fucking sorry I ever spoke to you in that way." He says, words coming out of his mouth as if he was rapping some Eminem song. "You are someone I find really important to me, and if I ever gave you the impression of liking you is because I really do. I just don't want to hurt you." He pauses to take a break.
You pull your arm down. "Ironic, cause you did hurt me." You say, trying not to sound so harsh.
"And I really regret everything. You are my friend and I shouldn't have played you like I did. I really want you back in my life. I just don't know how to work as a partner. That's why when you never asked me to label our relationship, I was fine with it because you were too."
"Did I ever tell you I was okay with that?" You ask, interrupting him.
He shakes his head no. "I'm sorry."
"Fine, apology accepted." You say. "Now, your time is over. Have a nice day, Pablo."
You were about to turn, but his hands stopped you. "I have this for you." He says, handing you a pass.
"What is this?" You ask confused, not taking it in your hands.
"It's a pass for tonight's match." He smiles. "I'm finally playing, and I want you there. You helped me in my recovery, and I can't thank you enough." He says, scratching the back of his neck. "I know I'm an asshole, I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry. But please, please, please come to the game." He says, begging again.
You look at the pass in his hand, not sure if you should take it or not.
"Please, at least take it and think about it." He says.
You nod, grabbing the pass from him. You then turn back and walk into your house. You close the door after you.
You look at the pass, it says your number and your seat. < Seat 332 >
Just like always.
You left the pass on your table. Not quite sure if you should go. What if his friends and family looked at you weirdly over you coming to his game?
You shake that idea out of your mind. Gavi's family loved you. Maybe not as his partner, but as the girl who helped him during his worse times.
And that was something nobody was taking from you. Ever.
You try to not think about the pass. You clean your house, you cooked lunch, you watch your show.
You even take a shower, something refreshing.
When you open your closet, you see the jersey. Mayne ut was a sign. Maybe you should go.
You take it as a sign for you to go. You changed into something appropriate for the game. You apply some light makeup and walk out to the stadium.
You were late, and you got into the stadium thanks to Gavi's pass. He asked beforehand for you to be allowed to get in, even if it was only a few minutes left of the game.
A security officer walks you to the vip section. You thank him for allowing you in, he just nodded and left.
You walk into the vip section. Standing over at the doors of the door that's dividing the seats from the lobby.
You noticed that Gavi was about to get subbed in. Everyone on the section was standing and clapping for him.
You can hear people chanting and screaming his name. Everyone was happy about it.
They were all too excited that people didn't really take a seat during the last eleven minutes of the game. That's all that Gavi played, including extra time.
People clapped at the fact that Barca won five to one. You can feel the tears in your eyes.
The longest eleven months of your life. At the same time, those months were short when it came to helping Pablo recover.
Pablo was looking over at the section you were in. People are still up, slowly seating down because it is the vip section. People don't just walk away.
Then the people that left are gone, and people are seated back. You were about to walk into your seat but you noticed something.
She was in your seat.
You look back at the field, finding his eyes on you. You move your eyes from him to the seat. Where she was waving her hand trying to get his attention.
You feel your vision getting blurry. Understanding that it wasn't your seat to take anymore.
It was hers.
🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl 🤍
#football#football fanfic#football x you#football angst#gavi x reader#gavi x you#pablo gavi angst#gavi angst#gavi fluff#gavi fanfic#pablo gavi x reader#pablo gavi imagine#gavi imagine#pablo gavi#barca fanfic#football fiction#football fluff#pablo gavi x y/n#pablo gavi x you#gavi x yn#gavi
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alright got a new bone to pick with an anon who pulled up the tma transcripts as 'proof' Jon is completely celibate and said that people are 'trying to erase canon asexuality'
apologies for bringing up discourse but this person is just so. Noejvneojekjdcmekfv.
anon idk who you are but that. Is NOT the solid, concrete proof you think it is.
like.
out of context, yes, it means Jon doesn't have sex.
however IN context (and even a bit out of, bc of 'according to Georgie') it. Only really serves to gently imply, yes, Jon is ace. And the writers did in fact clarify, yes, Jon is ace, and fans can do with that fact what they please.
And I would like to remind y'all:
Melanie fucking hates Jon around the time this line is said. And she is getting her information from Georgie, who is Jon's EX, who hadn't spoken to him in YEARS.
it's second hand information.
it's not concrete.
hell, if the writers didn't even clarify that Jon was ace people would've probably just. Ignored the line all together bc it's SECOND HAND INFORMATION.
I love the fact that Jon is ace. And I love how a good chunk of his asexuality isn't really explain. Bc then we get to interpret things, and project.
no one is trying to say he's not actually ace. Especially not fic writers. Most smut writers who have Jon in their fics are themselves ace, and are projecting.
Anon, did we even listen to the same podcast? Bc I'm pretty sure a good chunk of it is understood from reading between the lines, and context clues, and understanding not every character knows everything at all times, and to take character accounts with a grain of salt especially when it comes to office gossip and that gossip ≠ gospel.
again, I am not trying to say "this is why Jon is allowed to fuck in fics" no im saying that to try and say these smut fics are erasing a sexuality that is hardly even mentioned and not at all really relavent to the whole story is just wrong. It's incorrect.
people are allowed to write what they write. You don't need a reason. And as readers it is NOT our place to go after creators who are writing what they please, especially when it isn't even in bad faith. It's also not our place to assume and "call out" people on baseless assumptions of them "trying to erase or explain away the TRUTH"
so yes, anon, it IS a vague and ambigouaous representation bc if you took even a moment to look back on s3 you'd realize that EVERYTHING IS VAGUE AND AMBIGUOUS BC WERE LISTENING TO THE VAGYE AND AMBIGUOUS PODCAST
Yes, Jon is ace.
yes, the writers said you can put any acespec label or hc on it, and that such is all valid.
yes, one character one time said Jon 'doesnt'
no, that doesn't mean that all writers or creators or artists or whatever have to abide by "doesn't."
again, mods, sorry to bring up discourse.
.
#thanks anon . i agree ^_^ . as an asexual person especially#magpod confession#tma#the magnus archives#magpod
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What really pisses me off is people insisting the break-up doesn't make sense as its own thing when it's so clearly in-character for both of them
Buck has been in a serious relationship with a man for six months but hasn't said the word bisexual. We only know that's His Label bc Oliver Stark calls him bisexual outside of the show. Buck has had what seemed to be a perfect fairytale relationship with Tommy bc Tommy made him feel so safe and comfortable and taken care of that he just let everything else about his coming out journey kinda simmer on the back burner.
And, hey, there's nothing wrong with taking your time with that. But considering the scene at dispatch where he still couldn't talk about his sexuality in concrete terms, clearly he hasn't processed it much, if at all. Buck is the guy who dives deep into research at the slightest opportunity, him knowing so little about queerness and queer culture six months into a serious same-sex relationship isn't just out of character but a clear sign that he simply hasn't done any work to explore his sexuality for himself outside of his relationship with Tommy. Whether the writers intended for it read like that or not doesn't matter very much, bc that's exactly what I'm seeing here.
And, again, that alone as a reason to break up with someone is extremely shitty but that's also not what happened.
Tommy clearly has a history of isolating. He's been hurt a lot in the past, we don't need to know the details to know he's a deeply wounded man who spent most of his life guarding his own heart from the world. He told Buck and the audience over and over again, "I look confident. I look sure. I am comfortable. But it took hard work. I wasn't like this before. This is new. This is good but this is scary. I'm working on it I'm working on it I'm working."
He can see that Buck views him as something more, something better, than he thinks he is. Buck loves Tommy, Buck was infatuated with Tommy. Tommy was this perfect guy in Buck's eyes. And that scared Tommy. It intimidated him. But he kept going bc it wasn't a big deal and he could always remind Buck that hey he's just a guy, a guy who had done things wrong for a long time. But Buck never fully grasped it either. Likely bc of how good Tommy made him feel, he struggled to fully grasp that things with Tommy couldn't always be so perfect and good and safe.
They don't talk about that but they keep going bc they like each other bc they're falling in love bc until that six month mark they were both still fairly distracted by how good it felt to be together to really, seriously consider the ramifications of ignoring those not-so-little things they didn't want to face right then.
And then suddenly it's been six months and they're clearly both in love and they're both clearly not ready to be acknowledging that at all. It's been six months and they're just trying to match each other's pace but have never talked about what that pace actually is and then suddenly they're talking about how Tommy used to be engaged to the woman who taught Buck what a real relationship meant and they still aren't even ready to acknowledge they're in love but Buck is already asking to move in together and talking about marriage and they haven't even said i love yous and Buck can't even utter the word bisexual out loud but he wants to jump into living together and fusing their lives together.
But he's not ready for that. As far as Tommy can see he's not ready for that. And if he's asking for something so big when he can't even say the word love then maybe, in Tommy's mind, he'll never truly be able to say it. Maybe they'll keep going like this. Living together and being together but Buck can't face his sexuality as its own thing and Tommy can't face how his trauma affects their relationship and eventually it'll be too much and maybe Buck still wouldn't want to say it and Tommy would push him away like he pushes everyone away and then they'll be right back to that moment, weeks or months or years later, with Buck wanting more but not able to say those words and with Tommy wishing he'd left before it hurt so much.
And sure it hurts to leave now but at least now he's early. Now, Buck hasn't wrapped himself around every piece of his life. Just his heart. At least now he'll hurt but he won't have to move just to get rid of the scent of Evan Buckley perpetually lingering in every corner of his home.
Buck loves Tommy so much he can't imagine a future without him. Tommy loves him so much he can't imagine a future where he gets to keep him.
The break-up makes all the sense in the world. It just doesn't make sense that the break-up wouldn't force them to work on their respective issues and bring them back together stronger in the future.
#bucktommy#911 abc#this is an angsty ass will they wont they slow burn endgame in my mind#and if the show fumbles such a perfect romance arc that's on them for being morons#but as far as I'm concerned they're each other's forever#they're just not ready for forever yet
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So because Gwen Stacy is clearly a trans ally in the Spiderverse, people are automatically convinced that she's trans too. Fuck, man the internet will cling to any fucking thing. Until I see clear evidence, I don't believe shit. Not every piece of media needs 'muh representation'. 😒
#controversial opinion?#maybe#don't know don't care#I'm just saying not everything needs labels#agree or don’t#doesn't matter to me
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What if I told you that regression is regression and is all the same whether or not it's "pure" or "impure." What if I told you that trying to reinvent these labels in a way that's supposed to be progressive and inclusive just further alienates those whose regression is a result of mental illness, and that doing so is an attempt at detaching yourself from severely mentally ill regressors that you are much more similar to than people who don't age regress. What if I told you that truly healthy regression is supposed to include being cathartic and experiencing "ugly" emotions and being vulnerable.
What if. Imagine..
#I originally made this post months ago and then shoved it into my drafts because I hate the idea of stirring up drama#in a community where we're all just a bunch of babies#But it's crossed my mind too many times that I just feel like I Should say something about it.#To put it bluntly.. throughout all this talk about how regressors with trauma and mental illness are valid#(which I believe is why the majority of us are here for in one way or another)#a lot of people here do not like to share a space with us and will do everything to detach themselves from us.#I encourage you to truly ask yourself why that is and why you so desperately want to keep reinventing these labels for regression#that quite frankly don't need to be made separate because of the purely psychological nature of age regression.#I'm telling you. Non mentally ill or developmentally disabled or traumatized people are much less likely to regress to a kid or baby#so what good does it do to try and separate yourself from your own community members?#community
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.
#this might be both oversharing and being too vague rn but it's 2am and i'm emotionally exhausted#i can't believe during one of the most traumatic moments i've had in the past year i was lucky enough to have scott as my biggest supporter#the entire time as i was going through it he was so supportive giving me space to process shit and always having my back#and yet there are some people in my life who are always going to villainize him for one comment he said during that time out of context#or even if they're not ''villainizing'' him i now feel like i have to begin every sentence about scott with#''yeah we don't agree on everything but we're still friends and isn't that amazing!''#which yeah that is true and i do genuinely enjoy when scott and i disagree and are respectful about it#BUT WHY DOES THAT HAVE TO BE THE FIRST THING I SAY ABOUT HIM????#and honestly that whole experience made me agree with scott on way more than i started out with#i'm proud of how i was able to grow as a person and for the fact that it brought me and scott much closer together#but that shit i went through at my college was still traumatic. and it did change me as a person#it completely changed my relationship to activism in a way i'm not happy about bc i want to be more of an activist#but when i had someone use social justice language to justify horrible things against me it's hard not to be wary#of how hollow and performative a lot of conversations can be#and like i'll even say it. like people might get mad at me for admitting it#but that whole traumatic situation has irrevocably changed my relationship to gender as well#or at least how i label myself and how i move through these conversations#and in some ways i'm grateful for it bc i do feel like i know myself more and like i don't have to worry about what others' think#or even what other people understand#but it shouldn't have had to go down like that. and as much as the time i got to spend with scott during that time was so much fun#and such a great experience and he was truly the perfect support system during that time#he shouldn't have had to deal with that and neither should i#and the fact that scott somehow got villainized in some people's minds while the person who actually caused that trauma#is instead treated like ''yeah he was a bit misguided and made a mistake but he was probably anxious about it!! he's just a person!!''#that's never going to stop being painful. especially the idea that with the importance people put on labels#i would supposedly have more ''community solidarity'' with that asshole than a cis gay man like scott#idk i think i'm past the timeframe of that traumatic experience bc it's not consuming every day like it used to a few weeks back#but something triggered it tonight so i just need to process it. anyway shoutout to scott for being there for me i really needed it
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What if spade queen didn’t have alcohol
Are you asking me if she never had any to begin with? Or if she immediately quit after years of abusing it?
Because I ought to tell you that in the latter case, it leads to a fun little thing called "the DTs" and requires emergency care.
#haz answers things#haz says a thing#spade queen#i'm not sure if i want her to go sober#it's hard to imagine her without that bottle in her hand :/#dang i might have to rewrite some shit#i didn't think i'd be researching this today...#i guess we can't write everything completely realistically#sorry i got to this after like a year#you're probably not even here anymore#whoopsies 🫠#also if this needs a community label just ask nicely
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idk why but I suddenly remember this morning about talking with sb about how all my muses (at that time) had extreme personalities and they said “yeah Haven is the only normal one” like imagine thinking Haven is normal imagine thinking Haven isn’t extreme
#unable to get angry due to trauma and shame about the last time she did? unable to trust her own decisions? need to philophosize over#everything? driven to needing to heal the world due to her extreme sensitivity to the pain of others overwhelming her since childhood?#I think the thing is#and I may be overthinking it#we only label people as extreme if it's in a way that bothers us#if it's in a way we societally approve of or benefits us#it goes overlooked and even praised or seen as normal#as here#not saying she doesn't deserve praise and her traits aren't good but like#she's not normal and just bc that affects her in ways ppl are going to like#doesn't necessarily make it healthy for her either#and I'm thinking how this shit is a double edged sword#if your issues are like hers they go overlooked esp in women who are expected to be like this and esp woc i think#if your issues actually dare to be difficult you get demonized esp if female esp if a woc#WELCOME TO RATMUN OVERTHINKS AGAIN GOOD MORNING
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At least even when I was a teenager and identified as communist, I was still never a soviet apologist
(And as I got older I came to dislike the USSR more and more and more, also seeing that soviet apologism kinda tended to fuck things up for western communists cause they'd be so busy running defense for people who didn't like or care about them, that actually getting policies passed to help western workers came second to being a tankie)
(Straight up, while I was volunteering in Quebec, one of the people I stayed with had this book by her uncle about being a Canadian communist, and he basically pinned soviet apologism as the whole reason he left the party cause they were more interested is doing PR for the kremlin than they were interested in like... unionizing in Canada)
Anyway, tankies suck, soviet apologism suck, and I'm glad to be able to say that even when I was a communist I didn't fall into that trap... like thank fuck for that, you know?
#honestly my positions as a teenager were more or less what they are now; just not as clear and using different worse terms#these days I'm just so sick of legislating what's socialism; what's capitalism; what's whatever#that it's like man... I think robust social safety nets are good in a lot of ways including for the economy#and I think that probably using currency makes more sense than barter#I just also think strong regulations are important cause otherwise you wind up with rat shit in the food (need stronger than we have)#and I think that handing out that money via welfare is a good way to get people spending and also living decently#so call that whatever the fuck you want; I don't care about the label; I care about achieving those goals or something similar#really just don't like labels these days; like descriptivism where I describe what I am and let other people fill in the blanks#makes for a lot less confusion than post communist when I'd always have to be arguing over what a socialist was#I no longer give a shit; I yam what I yam; and what I yam is someone who likes welfare and making sure people have enough#also fucking over big companies; I'm for that over all#part of the reason I stopped being a communist is I've had this rule for years now that says#'groups of roughly more than 50 people start getting corruption'#communism 100% works on a small scale; most households are communist; everything into the big pot to serve the communal good#my minecraft server is communist; we don't sell each other stuff; all goes into the same pot and we take and share what we need#at a scale of like 10 people communism actually works great; isn't a dirty word at that point#it's chipping in and being part of a community#(you gotta be a real messed up group of people for sharing and pooling resources to lead to mass graves when there's like 5 of you)#but in a big group communism is a great way to have the worst person get absolute power; it just sucks ass and should never be done#wonderful in theory; but doomed 100% of the time in practice; never do communism on a government scale#but anyway; same reason I hate communism is why I also hate mega corps... lot more than 50 people#and what do you know? they're corrupt as shit#other thing about less than 50 people; you can kinda more directly see when someone sucks#and you can kick em out; or you can leave; or you can say 'that small business is awful; I'm never shopping there'#I don't know; I'm just thinking outloud at this point; I can't give you some detailed polisci paper in fucking tumblr tags
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hiiiii I'm new to your page but i would like to ask you what would've happened if simon mail-ordered a bride?
mail-order bride
you stare down at the address on the card, blinking as you reread the house number and look back up at the cottage in front of you. the numbers match, but you just need a few more minutes before you knock on the door.
you're not holding too many things. you have one suitcase with the entirety of your belongings at one side, the cat carrier sitting on top of it. on the other side, you hold a bundle of papers. your immigration papers, all shiny and new, your birth certificate, and your new british passport.
when you look back down, you swallow as you read over your name. it's odd, to see something new in the section labeled SURNAME.
Riley.
you've never met him. this isn't legal, it can't be, to have all of these things. he must be someone important. someone they value. or maybe, they are just too afraid to say no to him.
the front door opens, and you freeze on the spot as you see someone duck their head to step outside. they're wearing a mask, covering their entire face except for their dark eyes, but it's hitched up over his nose as he holds an unlit cigarette between his lips.
he stares as he sees you at the end of the steps. he frowns, looking you up and down.
"weren't supposed ta be 'ere for a few weeks."
your eyes water a little, but you only manage a shrug.
"i-i..." you meet his eyes. "i-i couldn't stay there any longer. i didn't have anywhere else to go."
he tucks the cigarette back behind his ear, slipping the mask off. it reveals a tousled mess of short blonde hair and a terribly scarred face. his eyes dart to the little carrier sitting next to you when he hears a soft meow coming from it.
"said no pets."
your lip trembles.
"please," you whisper, and his lip twitches as he fights off a scowl. you imagine he must not have much practice in hiding his emotions. he comes down the steps anyways, coming closer, and you pick up the carrier as he snatches the suitcase off the pavement, making his way back inside. you follow him, naturally.
when you close the door behind you, you're surprised at how quaint it all is. nice brick fireplace, a soft carpet (no shoes allowed is what he snapped at you), and wonderfully furnished to make the place cozy, warm, lived-in. there's throw blankets and accent pillows. there's pictures on the walls, paintings, yellow corner lights to give everything a soft glow. the kitchen is beautiful, with lovely colored tile and wooden cutting boards, a drip-coffee setup in the corner and worn cookbooks stacked neatly by a stainless steel toaster. there's herbs growing in little pots sitting on the windowsill above the sink, and there's a cast iron pot decoratively resting on the stove.
it's spick-span clean. there's no specks of dust or splatters left over from bacon grease. there's papers pinned to the fridge, lists to remind him to buy whole milk and sliced bread and call about the internet bill being charged twice again.
you set the carrier down on the couch, unzipping the top. a little curious black head pokes out of it, and you reach in and pick the cat up under its belly and drop it onto the floor. immediately, the cat spreads its front paws, claws sticking out as they begin to knead the carpet and use it as a personal scratcher, the prick, prick, prick sound enough to draw the giant man out of the bedroom with a hard frown on his face.
he points at the thing and shakes his head.
"keep tha' thing off the fawkin' counter," he snaps at you. he purses his lips when he sees you still standing there, afraid to even move. he comes closer, the cat scurrying off, and he yanks your coat and scarf off, going to the hang them up by the door. "can unpack tomorrow. need t'make somethin' ta eat."
you move immediately towards the kitchen, hoping he keeps a stocked fridge, but he puts out a big hand and stops you, stepping in front of you.
"the fuck are y'doin'?" he asks, and you blink up at him.
"you said to make dinner...s-sir?"
he tilts his head to the side, narrowing his eyes.
"y'listen t'this," he murmurs. "women don't lift a fuckin' finger in this house, y'hear?"
you nod, and he reaches up and palms your throat, cupping your jaw.
"and my wife doesn't call me sir," he mutters. "it's simon."
you soften a little. "i-i'm sorry, simon."
"don't apologize," he grits his teeth. "did nothin' wrong."
when a fresh set of tears comes down your face, he wipes them away with ease, calloused thumb swiping over your cheeks and quieting you. he puts something into your hands, a velvet box that he must've gotten when he went to put your suitcase away.
"y'r a riley now, yeah?" he murmurs, and you tilt your head at an angle, and your foreheads brush together when he bends low to speak to you. "act like it."
you lean up on your toes (he's so fucking tall), and you kiss him softly beside his mouth. when he moves his head, your lips brush against each other, but he pulls back to make his way to the kitchen. you hear the gas stove light up, and a few minutes later, there's a familiar smell of onions hitting hot olive oil.
you take a seat on the couch, smiling to yourself, wiping your eyes as you curl up there. you flip open the box, sighing shakily when you see the rectangular diamond and matching gold wedding band. when simon comes back in to give you a mug of tea, you take it with your left hand, and his eyes flicker when he notices the new jewelry there, so pretty, so new.
mine.
when he pads back into the kitchen, the cat blinks up at him slowly, green eyes bright as they sit on the counter.
simon walks past it, saying nothing at all.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon thoughts#order up
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it's another saturday left alone with my thoughts and I am having so many big feelings
#thinking about the scale of the universe#and how everything is alive#and how I will be alive even when I'm dead because my energy with live on and become something new#and how my labels mean nothing to me when I'm alone and no one is watching#and how to be happy in this era of humanity everyone says you just need to make money and make a life for yourself#as if the only way to truly live is to contribute to this stupid capitalist society#i can't survive by just doing the things that I love and it's unfair#also I'm thinking about when martin k blackwood said#i believe our experience of the universe has meaning. even if it disappears forever
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Not to sound too boomer but I thought that today's youth pretended to like shitty ass music just to inflate their faves numbers. Turns out they do really like it
#tfw u are one of those older fans who think that old music was better and somehow new 16 yo ones call u names for it#i swear I'm an adult i don't need to fight or make a competition if i don't like an artist they can get fucked they're just clowns to me#yea i could be nostalgic or just older music was better now seems like that the more cringeworthy overproduced or yelled/mumbled the better#so labels keep on doing what sells. imagine having people saying that the best song of ur fave is whack compared to their weaker one almost#oobjectively and saying ChAnGe Is GoOd is it tho?#like idk the foo fighters never really changed and 30 years later they still make amazing music loved by critics and fans#it's about quality not change. u can even like something far from ir tastes like u love metal and u like taylor swift without acting like#everything in ur bubble is great and everything out is trash. i get that parasocial and identity bonds are strong#but i wished your tastes were driven by a tiny bit more of brain idk lol like u like blue and green together ok but are they good i#is red good for a children's hospital floor?outsold? soty?
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I have so many ideas but I'm not a talented writer so here's one
-your logans wife pre striker you get taken by striker after logan gets shot as a way to kinda get back at him. Logan always had visions of a woman that he doesn't remember glimpses of domestic bliss. When striker attacks (in x2) striker name drops or says smth like "your wife has been waiting" as a way to antagonize logan.
Also, a cute detail to add if a fic takes place before he loses his memory would be the reader to call him james
I really love how your reader in has a plant mutation. Everything you write is just so good
I hope I wasn't to detailed feel free to take bits and pieces.
contingency
running through the base at Alkali Lake, Logan stumbles across a top secret room... only to find his whole entire world inside.
CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place during X2, has some elements from X-Men Origins: Wolverine, reader has been through some shit, Logan is so relieved, you don't really need to squint to see the angst, i'm iffy on how this turned out, etc.
'Think, dammit! What the hell was he talking about?'
With a roar of frustration, Logan unsheathed his claws, sprinting around the bend and slicing right through the stomach of a nearby soldier, waiting until the man fell with a disgusting plop before continuing on his way.
Why couldn't he just remember?
He knew that, for whatever reason, his memories had been tampered with, and that he couldn't recall anything about his life before the claws.
But ever since his run-in with Stryker back at the mansion, he couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something especially important.
Something crucial.
"Wolverine..." Stryker grinned, eyes widening stepping forward out of the shadows. "I must admit, you are the last person I'd expect to find here."
Logan's claws revealed themselves with their signature shink, his brows furrowing as he warily stalked closer.
"How long has it been? Fifteen years?"
Stryker let out a small chuckle, but Logan was having a hard time finding what was so funny.
In fact, he was having a hard time with everything about this man—confused as to why he seemed so familiar.
"(y/n) says hello," Stryker goaded, adjusting his glasses. "Or, at least... I believe she would... If I'm being honest, she's feeling a little under the weather at the moment."
A sadistic smirk settled on his lips, his eyes glinting with sick satisfaction.
"But then again... there's seldom a time where she isn't feeling under the weather these days..."
"DAMMIT!" Logan barked, slamming his fist into a wall.
Not knowing was tearing him apart.
Who was (y/n)?
What were you to him?
And how the hell did he end up on the complete opposite side of the compound?
All questions that he furiously wanted to be answered.
Though, somehow—through his fit of blind frustration—he managed to stumble across a door, which had printed in big, bold, yellow letters:
CAUTION: KEEP OUT. HYDROSTASIS IN PROCESS.
"Hydrostasis?" Logan cocked a brow.
He didn't know why, but whatever was housed inside seemed to be pulling him in, silently urging him to open the door and investigate.
'Fuck it.'
Using one claw, he stabbed the retina scanner, the thick lock clicking with a satisfying beep.
He pushed past the door with ease, entering a seemingly large, dark, and oddly cold room, a lamp on one of the workbenches the only thing illuminating the space.
Cautiously, he approached it, sniffing and snapping his head around to make sure he was alone.
Yet he knew he wasn't.
He'd caught whiff of a faint scent emanating from somewhere further into the room, but it was so familiar, it seemed almost instinct to pay it no mind.
For some reason, he knew it wasn't hostile—and if anything, it calmed him, soothing his spiked nerves.
Reaching the table, he found that right next to the lamp laid a file labeled EXPERIMENT 25-8: CLASSIFIED.
He snatched it up with lightening speed, quickly skimming over the latest entry.
EXPERIMENT 25-8 a.k.a Weapon X Contingency
Name: (y/n) (l/n) Age: Unknown Sex: Female Height: X" X Weight: X Rank: Class 5 Report: 25-8 reviles authority. But her connection to Weapon X and general strength makes her a perfect candidate for Project Contingency. Her mutation and overall will to live have rejected all known forms of mind control. Will be kept in hydrostasis until new methods found. Conclusion: Further research required. Could possibly be the only creature known to man that can stop the Wolverine besides the Wolverine himself.
"(y/n)..." Logan tested out the name, confused as to why it sounded so natural.
So home-like.
Looking away from the pages, he glanced down at the table, catching sight of a large switch not too far away.
Without hesitation, he flicked it, the lights in the room suddenly cutting on, along with the lights to your chamber.
And there you were right before him—unconscious and floating in vibrant blue water.
Looking upon you, it felt like he was suddenly hit by a freight train, years of love, care, and warmth flooding his mind.
"James!" you squealed, unable to dim your smile as he hoisted you over his shoulder. "Put me down!"
"Not a chance," he smirked, carrying you toward your shared bedroom. "You know what you did..."
"No..."
"C'mere. I need a taste tester," you smiled, cupping your hand under your fork as you held up a chunk of steak.
He grinned, placing down his newspaper and taking a bite, groaning at the good taste as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
"Well?" you asked, nervous.
"Baby..." he paused for dramatic effect, wanting to see you squirm. "This is the best damn steak I've ever eaten."
"You ass!" you scoffed, playfully slapping him in the shoulder as he laughed, rocking you back and forth.
"I can't..."
"I love you, y'know that?" he asked, holding you close as you both relaxed in the bathtub. "I feel like I don't tell ya enough."
"You tell me every day, baby," you smiled, looking up at him as you rested your back against his chest.
"Well, then," he smirked, his hand rising from the water, holding a beautiful diamond engagement ring. "You alright with me tellin' ya a little bit more?"
Your eyes went as wide as saucers, and you gasped so loud the neighbors (which were three miles away) would certainly hear.
"YES!" you squealed, scrambling to turn around and give him a kiss, the water sloshing around violently.
"Careful, hon! You're gonna knock me out the tub!" he chuckled, steadying you as your lips began peppering kisses all over his face.
"She can't..."
"James," you started, timidly, tracing mindless shapes in his chest as you both laid in bed. "That man you told me about... Stryker... he came by the house today."
Logan tensed at the name, his grip around you tightening.
"He didn't do anything, did he?" he asked, tone rising.
"No," you shook your head. "But he asked for you. Said it was important that you come and talk to him."
He sighed, taking your hand in his, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles.
"I'll go over tomorrow. Straighten everything out," he assured.
"I don't think you should," you quickly denied, nervous. "This man... I don't trust him... He gives me a bad feeling, y'know?"
He cracked a small smile, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.
"I promise you, he can't do nothin' to me that hasn't already been done."
"RAAAAH!" Logan roared, blindly slashing at the table and all nearby equipment.
How could he have ever forgotten you?
Fury consumed his being in every sense of the word, the anger swelling inside him in a way he had never felt before.
Sparks flew as Logan destroyed any and everything in his path, teetering on the edge between rage and regret.
He could remember so clearly now.
You were his world—his reason for drawing breath, his reason for existing.
No matter how bad things got—angry, frustrating, or lonely—you were there.
You were his escape, his safety, his peace.
Comparing his life from before to the current, he couldn't fathom how he'd survived so long without being in your presence.
Through his slicing, he managed to cut something important, a loud warning siren blaring before all the water began draining from your pod, rapidly pouring onto the floor.
With a loud hiss, the door opened, sending you falling out the chamber.
Logan rushed over faster than he'd ever done anything, catching you in his arms and cradling you bridal style.
He looked upon you as if you were a ghost, a figment of his imagination.
After years and years of separation, he was finally allowed a chance to see your face, now able to recall all its fine details with perfect accuracy.
The softness of your cheeks.
The kindness of your eyes.
The plumpness of your lips.
Suddenly, you let out a loud cough, spitting up some water as your eyes snapped open, frantically looking around.
Logan couldn't find the words.
The love of his life was sitting in his arms and after fifteen years... and he had no idea what to say to her.
"James?" you asked, weakly, disbelieving of the sight before you.
That's right!
James!
His name was James!
"Yeah, baby..." he nodded, bitter-sweetly, getting a bit choked up. "It's me—"
You threw your arms around his neck without a second thought, pulling him into a bone crushing hug as tears began pouring down your cheeks, your shoulders shaking with cries of relief.
"I thought you weren't coming!" you sobbed.
Your throat felt swollen as you stuttered, scrambling to say all the things you've been wanting to for so long.
"Oh, God, I love you, Jimmy! I love you so much! Please don't leave me again!"
"I'm so sorry, baby! I'm so, so sorry!" he sputtered, his hand finding home in your hair as he rocked you back and forth, stray tears escaping his eyes. "I shoulda been here! I shoulda protected you!"
He buried his face in your hair, peppering the side of your head with kisses.
"I love you so much, honey... I'm right here. I'm not goin' anywhere."
Suddenly, you went limp in his arms, panic and fear spiking up his spine.
"(n/n)?!" he pulled back, frantically scanning over you to see what was wrong."(y/n)?!"
Quickly, he pressed his ear against your chest, thanking whatever god in heaven that your heart was beating.
'It might be a side effect of the chamber... or maybe she's tired...'
Without warning, the entire compound began to shake, a familiar blue devil popping up next to him out of nowhere.
"Zere you are!" Kurt exclaimed, quickly grabbing onto his friend. "Vee must go! Zee place is goink to flood!"
In an instant, the three were back with the others, the mysterious woman in Logan's arms posing a question to everyone.
"Logan?" Ororo raised a brow, confused, as they began running toward the exit.
"Who the hell is that?" Scott asked, much blunter than Storm intended.
Logan looked down at your peacefully sleeping face, brushing a stray strand of hair out your face.
"She's my wife..."
bonus !!
"SHE'S YOUR WHAT?"
#james howlett#james howlett x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#mcu#mcu x reader#wolverine x reader#x men#x men x reader#wolverine
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What are we?
pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader
summary: After a bittersweet maiden win, Oscar needs his best friend's company. But maybe it's time to put a label on what you two really are.
Since Oscar had other obligations after the race, you waited for him in his driver's room, browsing the internet to see what people had to say about everything that happened today. It was pure chaos out there, and this was a bittersweet win for your friend. He deserved better. Much better than this.
At one point you must have fallen asleep, because you woke up to the bed shifting next to you, and opened your eyes with a short laugh when you felt the newcomer press a kiss on your forehead. “You're done for today?” you asked sleepily.
Nodding, Oscar lied down on his back and put his head in your lap. “I just want some peace and quiet,” he muttered as he closed his eyes. “You weren't waiting for me after the race. I missed you.”
“Didn’t know you wanted me there.”
He opened one eye to look at you. “I always want you there. I need my best friend to be there for me.”
“I'm always there for you, you know that,” you told him with your hand tangled in his hair. “Oh, congrats, by the way. I'm so happy for you!”
To your surprise, Oscar let out a groan. “What a well deserved win, wasn't it?” You gave him a disapproving look that made him reach out to take your hand. “I feel so stupid, I should have refused to overtake Lando when he slowed down.”
“Hey, listen, you were good out there today. You were in the lead until the team fucked you over.” He looked up at you with a sad smile. “You don't believe me,” you said with a sigh.
Oscar suddenly sat up and turned around to face you. “Look, I just… Everyone believes I didn't deserve this win. And it sucks. Last year I won my first sprint race, but everyone forgot about it because Max became the world champion that day. Today I won my first grand prix and everyone's talking about team orders.”
It was easy to spot the pain in his eyes as he watched you, but you had no idea how to make him feel better. He was beating himself up for something that was out of his control, and the sight broke your heart into pieces. He didn't deserve this, he was too nice to go through these emotional rollercoasters.
With a kind smile on your face, you put your palm on his cheek as you leaned closer, letting your lips gently brush against his chin. “You should stop using your brain for a few hours. That would probably help you see clearer later,” you whispered to him.
The corners of his lips curled into a playful smile, and you saw a mischievous glint in his eyes when his lips captured yours in a kiss. People knew you were good friends and that's why you were a regular guest at races, but behind closed doors you were sometimes a little more than that.
It all began around last Christmas, when you visited his family in Australia. His sisters bullied him until he came to let out some steam in your company, telling you about their wild idea that the two of you were secretly dating and he was about to propose, that's why he wanted them to meet you.
Of course, it was stupid, you would never be more than friends. Or so you thought. Because at one point later in the evening, Oscar cornered you in his old room and the two of you somehow fell into his bed. Naked. Happens to the best of us, right?
And ever since then, you were keeping up this friends with benefits situation, having fun occasionally without the commitment of a proper romantic relationship. Although there had been cracks in this setup lately, you knew that deep down. Because when you began flirting with a guy, Oscar became protective and somehow scared him away. You knew it was him. Your almost-boyfriend told you later.
“You should stop thinking too,” he suddenly spoke up as he grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eye. “I can tell your head is somewhere else.”
“I'm sorry, you're right,” you told him with a sheepish smile.
“What were you thinking about?”
You didn't want to talk about that, not now. You'd been avoiding this topic for a few weeks now, today just wasn't the day to discuss this. So you did the only thing you hoped could avert his thoughts, and pushed him on his back so you could climb on top of him.
And yet, despite the lustful look in his eyes, he kept talking. “That won't work on me, baby, spit it out,” he said with a smirk as his fingers dug into the plush of your thighs. You didn't respond, instead you pulled off your shirt and reached up to unclip your bra as well. “Nice try.”
You leaned down to kiss him again as your fingernails gently scratched the skin of his abdomen under his shirt. At first he played along, his hands began to roam your body between sloppy kisses, but just when you reached down to unbutton his pants, he was quick to stop you.
“I already told you what's going on in my head, it's your turn now. I want to hear it, otherwise there's no way I'm gonna fuck you today, no matter how badly I want to,” he informed you.
With a sigh, you steadied yourself by putting your hands on his shoulders. “It's silly,” you began, hoping he would let it go, but he just raised an eyebrow and listened carefully. “What do you want from… this?” you asked with your fingers moving back on forth between the two of you.
“Having fun,” was all he said in response.
You rolled your eyes at him. “Okay, but if it's nothing more but fun without commitments, why did you chase Aaron away?” Oscar tilted his head to the side as he tried to figure out who you were talking about, but then a quiet ‘oh’ left his lips when he remembered. “Yeah, he told me you talked to him. Look, I just want to understand what this is right now. I really liked that guy.”
Oscar reached up to pull your head closer to his. “You like me more, don't you?” he asked, his lips hovering above yours as he waited for your response. “Say it.”
“Don't ruin my relationships. Please, Oscar, give me the chance to be happy with someone else,” you whispered with a quiet sob.
“I don't want you to be happy with someone else. I want you to be happy with me.”
Did he really not understand? “I want to go out on dates, I want to have a relationship that I can talk about,” you tried to make him understand. It's been a conversation that was a long time coming anyway.
He nodded, seemingly understanding what you meant. “Then let's be more than what we are now. I'm ready to make it official.”
This made you freeze. “I'm not,” you admitted, which made him give you a confused look. “People think I'm just your best friend, yet some of your fans are speculating that I just want to be famous through you. Imagine how much worse it would be if we were together.”
“Ignore them. They're just jealous.” When he saw you weren't convinced, he spoke up again. “If that happens, just remind yourself that I love you,” he said. You couldn't believe your ears. Did he just say that? “I love you. That's what caught your attention, wasn't it? Look, it's complicated, I know, but we'll figure it out. I promise.”
You believed him. There was sincerity in his voice as he spoke, and the kiss he gave you was full of raw emotions. “You always get what you want, don't you?” you asked with a laugh, to which he only replied with a laugh and a nod.
#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine
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as time gets close - jude bellingham x reader.
quick sum: almost close to your due date, what is wrong with a late-night grocery trip with your very excited and anxiously waiting fiance?
wc: 1.8k | masterlist | jude's masterlist
psa 🗣️: a little dad! jude blurb bc we haven’t seen much of this on the timeline!! like always hope you enjoy 🤍
"why are you bending down? you know that is bad for you," you rolled your eyes at your fiance's scolding, grabbing the keys from the floor. "i dropped the keys by accident," you say as you pick the correct key that belonged to the lock. jude rubbed your belly, ensuring you were okay before helping you out to the car, the reusable bags tucked underneath his arm.
"did you bring the list?" you ask him seeing as he nods and pulls it out from the pockets of his hoodie. "i did. i also brought you some snacks because you didn't eat much after getting some nausea," you pouted your lips leaning up to peck his cheek thanking him. "what would i do without you?" you tease, a playful scoff falling from his lips.
"what makes you think you'd be without me? i'm attached to you for life remember?" he grabs your left hand kissing over your ring finger as he gives you a knowing look. you feel as he brings your intertwined hands to your belly, "and you're carrying my baby in there."
"really i couldn't tell," you say sarcastically.
"let's make it quick because my feet already hurt and i want to sleep," you advised letting out a tired yawn. despite being close to your due date, you still had some work to do before maternity leave. making calls to set meetings, attending them over zoom, filing paperwork, in charge of making sure the firm doesn't backfire, and planning some stuff out for your wedding.
jude had told you multiple times to take it easy, but placing that aside, he always helped you unconditionally. in the shower, when cooking, taking care of chores, before bed, and attending all your doctor's appointments. he was your personal midwife and wanted to take care of you the most he could.
you remembered to look on his face when you told him you were expecting, the tears on his face as he spoke to your barely bump all night and traced his hands on your belly. singing and humming lullabies and stories about his day. since then he wanted to protect you the best he could.
going to the grocery store at this time was nothing new, in fact, it became so prevalent now that you were pregnant because you craved everything. making jude do a late run to pick up your cravings or groceries for the upcoming weeks. the same store, at the same time.
you placed your purse on the cart, snuggling into your jacket as the cold air inside the store blew you away. you followed jude who picked out veggies and greens for his meal prepping, helping him tie the bags and weigh them on the digital scale that produced labels. you watched in awe as your boyfriend picked out three pairs of different flowers. "what are these for?" you asked, smelling the flowery scent.
"for the house. we need to replace the old ones that dried out," jude says with a shy grin. "you were the one who said plants and flowers bring a sense of home into our house, " jude recalled your words, kissing your temple, pushing the cart since it became a bit heavier. "i did say that didn't i? well i wasn't wrong," you shrug, wrapping a hand around his bicep as he trailed along isles to pick up the different items on the list.
he did all the heavy lifting as you reached and picked stuff up from your level, like spices and eggs. you turn your back for a few seconds to retrieve some milk and coffee beans for the morning, to see the cart filled with pop tarts and other salty snacks. "no no no," you shake your head, as jude whines out protests. "y/n we need them! they're even on sale!"
“jude, i don’t care! we just got some three days ago!,” you say laughing, putting back the box of pop tarts. “y/n i’m telling you right now, in a couple of hours or days you’re gonna have me running back here for them,” jude states following behind you.
“am not!” you quickly defend, bringing a hand to your aching back. “are too! last night you had me running out for cheetos. what’s it going to be today? kettled popcorn? or wingstop?” jude teased making you rolls your eyes and focusing back on to what needed to get done. “don’t forget we need to pick some of that acid reflex stuff for you, to get rid of the heartburn,” jude reminds you, taking the cart and walking out of the pop tarts isle, sneaking a box in for you.
“what’s left on the list?” you ask him, taking out a small snack you had in your purse and offering some to jude. “we need bananas, strawberries, orange juice, and meats for upcoming dinners…” jude reads the list one by one, using his index finger as he goes along.
you pass by an isle grabbing some cereal and granola for your yogurts and bowls. jude insisting he grabs his favorite too since you refuse to share from your part. as you wait by the deli section jude come behind you, grabbing your belly and relieving some of the pressure.
you immediately lay your head back on his shoulder sighing in relief, hearing jude chuckle and place a kiss on your head. “almost there darling,” he whispered running one of his hands along your tummy. “i know what you’re doing jude… and if this baby starts kicking right now i’ll leave you here,” you warn.
“i’m just trying to help you love. doesn’t it feel good?” he reprimanded as you nodded. “yes but not when she starts kicking, i swear she does it on purpose and it’s your fault. like she knows it you,” you said feeling your lower back less tense and heavy. "i kid you not, last night she almost made me pee from this hard kick!"
"sounds to me like we have a mini footballer coming into our lives," said jude continuing to hold your belly since you were tired and your baby was heavy. he had read the method online with other tips and tricks. jude got more into reading when he found out you were pregnant, wanting to know every effect and secret to ensure a healthy and safe pregnancy.
"let's hope not, i don't think i could handle cleaning up broken stuff around the house every day," you sigh, releasing yourself from his hold because you began to get hot. you didn’t understand how your body was so quick to adjust and then de-adjust from hot and cold, but it was so easy and it drove you mad sometimes.
“you okay?” jude softened his eyes as you let out a breath of despair, holding your hand and feeling a sit squeezed tightly against his. “yeah just got a mini cramp,” you held your back and practiced breathing methods you learned, “i’m good, i promise,” you kiss his hand before retrieving the meats from the butcher. "we'll get home soon, and i promise you a warm tea and massage okay?"
"did you want chocolate or strawberry milk?" jude held up the pint containers, "strawberry, we still have chocolate milk at home," you said, jude nodding as he quickly picked the orange juice and your favorite yogurts. "i was never a fan of sweet or flavored milk but these are soooo good," you exaggerated, jude smiling hard down at you.
"never a fan? these were my childhood as a kid! my mum used to buy these or the powder to make it ourselves," jude says recalling a old memory thinking of his babygirl. "you reckon she'll like them too?" jude spoke softly as he saw you give him a fast nod. if there was one thing loved it was discussing his babygirl. he was so anxious and wanted to meet her. the itch in his teeth getting bigger as every day passes.
to hold her while she slept, hug her to keep her warm, coddle her to sleep, feed her. he was ready for it all. he loved to shop and spoil her already. her carrier, crib, different books, toys, and stuffed animals like he had as a kid. she didn't know it yet, but she would be jude's second best friend. firstly you. always you.
they saw if one ever finds love at first sight, and jude definitely did with you. a smile so bright, eyes gleaming with happiness, a stranger who he fell madly with almost immediately after hearing her say hello. through ups and downs, you found your way to each other and since then, it's a love story for the movies. jude had his career blowing, a beautiful fiancee, and now a baby on the way. what more could he want?
as jude helped bag the groceries into the recycled bags you had, you paid and thanked the cashier whom you got close with on nights like these. asking how her day was, about her kids, anything special, always something to distract her. "you two have a safe night!" she yelled as you turned and thanked, wishing her a good night as well.
after you insisted on helping, you carried four light bags as jude carried most bags since he hated double trips. you guys quickly unpacked everything, longing and wishing to get into bed. you ensure the stove and other appliances are off, grabbing your tea and heading upstairs with jude.
"lay here for me," jude instructed, grabbing some cream and begging to smooth and massage out the muscles on your legs and shoulders. "after we have her, i promise i'll return every single thing you did for me while i was pregnant," you say struggled and full pleasure as the tension went away at jude's fingertips. "oh i'm fully expecting the injured boyfriend method again," jude teased as he finished up.
he grabbed a new book, laying on your side as you brushed and played with a few curls on his head, twirling them around your finger as he breathed softly. he looked so gentle and full of excitement like this, reading to your babygirl, who sensed her daddy's voice as she kicked. she knew, she always knew.
he applied your belly oil to prevent any stretch marks and kissed the small ones that formed along the way. jude cherished your body for carrying his baby in there, for being able to give and bring a new life into his and yours. you laid on your side, jude's chest connecting and fitting the crevasse on your back, holding your tummy as in a way to keep it safe.
you placed and locked hands with his, as jude wishing you a goodnight, peering kissed on your shoulders then finally lips, moaning in delight, a tiny groan leaving his lips. "i love you so much darling," he whispered, kissing your temple and snuggling into you more. "iloveyoutoojude," you said fast, with a playful smile on your lips as you felt a familiar sensation of a certain craving. "okay now i do want some pop tarts..."
"are you serious right now?"
#jude bellingham#judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham blurb#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham one shot#football fanfic#footballer#football x reader
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