#these first days back working during the week have been fantastic

[jonquilyst]

To the guy who got mad at me and said I should “lose my attitude” over a price discrepancy at work today, I hope you come to the realization that maybe the same should be said about yourself.

There was a misunderstanding. I didn’t know that $5.29 was the sale price and not the regular price. I thought the price was supposed to be lower since you asked about it being on sale. So I of course asked if you had a rewards card so we could try to sort this out, but then you got angry and escorted me to the price tag in question, where I realized what was going on and told you the price was correct.

Yes, I was a little firm with you, but that’s because I’m a human being, not a robot. You were raising your voice at me. If you’re gonna be mad to me, then don’t expect sunshine and rainbows in return. Not to mention on your way out you decided to shoot me down over said “attitude” when you could have moved on and kept your mouth shut. Sooo... Maybe you’re the one that needs to chill?

The item in question was a pint of ice cream, btw.

A guy got mad at me over a pint of ice cream.

[camgoloud]

today. i have experienced the HORRORS (opened laptop for morning meeting while seated between boss and coworker; was greeted with ao3 page i forgot to close last night)

[maemelany]

RACING HEARTS - Part 2: MONACO I

Pairings: Lewis Hamilton x reader 

Summary: You and Lewis have been talking for a few weeks now, and he invited you to the Monaco GP. You can’t deny the attraction anymore. 

Warnings: smut – light but still smut 

Word count: 1.5k 

Series masterlist here

part 3 here

A/N: Part 1 of part 2 (I know it’s a mouthful) is here. It’s shorter, but since it’s divided into two parts, I thought it was okay to share it. I hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know how you feel about it and if you want to be added to the tag list. 

Love, Mae. 

You were invited to the Cannes Festival. It was your third year attending, but this time, it felt different. 

The first time, you were scared to make a mistake or fail off the steps. The second time around, you were shocked to still be invited. You had more fun, but that feeling of not belonging was still present. This year, you were just having fun. You felt more confident, and you finally accepted that you deserved it. That your hard work was appreciated and that you belonged. 

It was also exciting because Cannes was not your final destination. You spent the first week there, climbing the stairs and attending a few parties for some sponsors, and then you were off to Monte-Carlo. 

You had not stopped talking to Lewis since the Miami race. It happened naturally, and you talked almost every day about anything and everything. 

You mentioned travelling to France for the Cannes Festival, and Lewis did not hesitate to ask if you would have time to come to his race. 

Of course, you said yes. You had to tweak some things in your schedule, but you could not deny to yourself that you were happy to see him again. 

You went from denying that something could happen to hoping something was indeed happening. 

You’d never been to Monte Carlo, so you enjoyed the view from the back of the car. It was night, so the city was shining, and the view did not disappoint. 

Monaco’s nightlife was known all over the world, but witnessing it was something else. It felt like everybody was out, having fun and wearing incredible outfits.  

Suddenly, you did not feel as overdressed as you first thought when you left your last event in Nice without changing to catch a helicopter to Monte-Carlo. 

When the car left you in front of the marina, you weren’t sure where to go. It was just a line of yachts, and you never asked Lewis where you were supposed to meet exactly. 

“Y/n!” 

You turned around, and there he was. You couldn’t help but smile as he approached you. He hugged you, and you embraced it without hesitation. He smelled so good. 

“I’m so glad you came. You look fantastic,” he said when he moved back 

“Thank you. You don’t look too bad yourself.” 

You weren’t lying. Lewis’s style was implacable and today was no exception. He smiled and extended his hand for you to hold it. You took it, your heart skipping another bit. 

“So, you said it was your first time in Monaco, right?” he asked you 

You nodded. “Yep. I never got the chance or the time to stop here. Plus, I don’t know anyone that lives here, and I don’t speak French.” 

“Now you do. I mean, my French is pretty bad, don’t get me wrong, but I’ll show you around.” 

You simply smiled, not sure what to say. Lewis then stopped in front of a beautiful, greyish yacht.

“I don’t know if you have a hotel room reserved, but we have rooms here if you want. I thought we could anchor out at sea for the night, and I’ll show you around the city tomorrow?” 

You thought about it for a few seconds. You did not have a room reserved, and you felt ashamed to admit it. You left Nice in a rush, and you were too busy during the past week to make arrangements. 

Lewis could see that you were spinning your wheels, so he guided you inside. 

“Let me show you around,” he said 

He showed you the yacht's common spaces. You could tell that he was passionate about it as he talked about how fast it could go and the updates they made to improve the boat.

You did not know much about boats, but his enthusiasm was contagious, and you found yourself asking questions. 

As the evening passed, you became more relaxed and even told him a few jokes about weird situations you found yourself in Cannes. 

There were also subtle touches. Lewis’s love language seemed to be physical touch, as he started to touch your arm distractedly as you two talked. 

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” he asked you again after a peaceful blank in the conversation. 

You could feel your cheeks getting warm despite the fresh breeze on the upper deck. 

“You did, but I don’t mind you repeating yourself.” 

Lewis smiled.“Well, you look beautiful. And you smell amazing; what is it?” 

You opened your mouth, ready to share your perfume’s name, but he stopped you. “Let me try and guess it.” 

Before you could add something, he got closer. You could hear him breathe as his face got closer to your neck. 

“I’m going to say… there’s bergamot in it?” 

“Nope… try again” you whispered 

He got closer, his lips almost touching your neck now. 

“Vanilla?” 

You chuckled. “How do you go from bergamot to vanilla? They’re like, totally opposite.” 

“Hmm…” he said, now leaving tiny kisses on your neck 

You closed your eyes. It felt good. “Try one more time.” 

You could feel him grinning. You knew he would not guess it, but you didn’t want him to pull away.

“What do I get if I guess it?” he asked. 

Your smile broadened. There was no way he was going to guess it. “Anything you want” 

Lewis froze for a second but did not pull away. “Anything? That’s a big bet.” 

“Something’s telling me I’ll win anyway,” you said, your heart beating faster. 

He kissed your neck one more time; this time, you couldn’t help a small moan to escape your mouth.

“It’s musk. And there’s also a bit of Amber. Spices too” 

It was your turn to freeze. You opened your eyes and pulled away from him. The shock must have been plastered on your face because Lewis burst out laughing. 

“I guess I won,” he said when he calmed down 

 “How did you… you said bergamot first!” you asked, still in shock 

His mischievous smile you were growing to love was on. “How about I get my prize, and then I tell you my secret?” 

You almost forgot about that. You did say he could have anything he wanted if he guessed it right. 

“Okay, what do you want?” 

“How about I show you?” he said. “Come here.” 

The tone of his voice left no room for hesitation. You found yourself getting closer until your knees were touching. He was looking at you; everything you needed to know about how he felt or what he wanted was pretty clear. 

“Stop me if you don’t want it, but I’m about to kiss you. And I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.” 

You opened your mouth and then closed it. Nobody had ever been so direct to you. 

“I want it,” you whispered. 

He softly touched your face, and you closed your eyes. You could feel his soft touch on your cheek, and then he stopped at your mouth, opening it with two fingers. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. 

You smiled, but it didn’t last, as you gasped right after. Lewis was kissing your neck again, but this time, it wasn’t soft kisses. You could feel the butterfly migrating to your stomach and then even lower.

“Lewis…” you whispered 

“Hmm?” he said, still giving attention to your neck.

“I…” you wanted more, but you couldn’t say it. Instead, you pushed your hands in his hair, pressing him closer. 

“I won, remember? I’m doing whatever I want, y/n.” 

His hands were everywhere. In your hair, on your face, your breasts. He was teasing you. You wanted him to kiss you. If you were honest with yourself, you wanted more than that. But he was taking his sweet time, working you until you couldn’t stop the moans from escaping your mouth. 

When he pressed your nipples harder, the thin fabric of your dress not posing any blockage, you lost it. You grabbed him closer as you could feel yourself getting closer. 

“Fuck…” he whispered and then made you climb his lap. 

You were still catching your breath when he pulled you up. You were now on his lap, feeling his erection between you. 

“Kiss me,” he said, looking at you. 

You did not hesitate and kissed him. It felt like home. Like you’ve been kissing for ages. It was soft at first but then got more intense as he pressed you closer to him. 

You started to move, straddling his lap as the kiss got deeper. You gasped when he pushed his hand between your thighs, under your dress. Without hesitating, Lewis parted your panties and plunged a finger into you. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered 

“Not him, all me,” he chuckled. “Say it, love.” 

“Lewis,” you moaned his name, gasping against his mouth when he added another finger. 

“That’s it, love, come for me.” 

It felt like it was all you were waiting for, him asking you to come. You curled your toes inside your high heels, squeezed your legs as much as you could and came. 

“Oh my god,” you managed to say in a shaky breath. 

Lewis smiled, softly kissing your temple. You stayed like that for what felt like forever, enjoying the breeze and Lewis caressing your back. 

“I’m taking it you’re staying the night,” he finally said 

You chuckled. You were staying. In fact, you didn’t just stay that night; you stayed the entire week. 

Tag list:

@carelessreadersstuff

[asheepinthenight]

Talon’s End Devlog: October 2024

Happy Halloween and Blessed Samhain to those who celebrate! Somehow, another month has passed, and here we are again! The Hawk short is almost done, but it just wasn't feasible to complete it and have it tested in time for Halloween. It's much shorter than last year's Halloween extra—I just have much less free time this year!

For those of you who only discovered TE recently, I had a pretty major change in my life a few months ago that has resulted in a drop in free time from 1-2 days a week to a few hours (if that!). It's been a positive change for me, but it has hit my writing time pretty hard. I'm still figuring out the best way to balance everything in a way that I'm happy with, but I am still working—TE isn't on hiatus, just a very, VERY slow update schedule! I should have a bug fix update coming next week based on some recent bug reports (thank you!).

Thank you all again for your patience! I posted a short preview from the middle of the werewolf!Hawk extra a couple months ago, but the first few paragraphs (they/them Hawk pronouns, Hawk/MC relationship is romantic) are under the cut:

Hawk's tail thumps the ground as they sit beside you, impatiently waiting for the moon to set. You flip the veggie burgers that you've been grilling, and Hawk responds to the renewed sizzling with a rumbling growl. If you didn't know them, you might have been alarmed, but since you're familiar with the limited vocabulary of Hawk's wolf form, you know that it merely indicates impatient excitement. You scratch behind Hawk's large pointed ears, and their tail thumping increases in enthusiasm.

One would think that spending time with a werewolf during a full moon wouldn't involve mundane things like barbequing a healthy dinner. But these days, with the vampire threat mostly under control, mundane is what full moons usually look like for you. Indeed, one of the primary difficulties you face is that Hawk's vegetarian diet apparently tastes much less satisfying to a wolf palate than a human one, so "dinner" has been relocated to the early morning hours when the full moon finally sets. But judging by the continued low rumbling and the way Hawk is leaning heavily against you, the wait has, as usual, not been a pleasant one. You run your fingers through their thick fur, and golden eyes look up at you plaintively. If you ever called that expression puppy-dog eyes, they'd deny it—but that's exactly what it is. Keeping that thought to yourself, you remove the finished burgers from the grill as the moon continues to sink below the horizon.

Deep in the woods, another member of Hawk's pack begins to howl, and a chorus of werewolf voices follows until Hawk sits up and throws their head back to join in. No matter how many times you've heard it, Hawk's howl still gives you chills. Even with all the strange and fantastical things you've experienced as a vampire hunter, your mate's howl feels otherworldly.

As the pack's howl fades to echoes, the last silver rays of moonlight vanish, and you brace yourself for what's coming next.

[darknights04]

are you still working on the Elijah mikaelson Bridgeton fic?

I'm sorry it took so long 😭😭 Lots of life changes have been occurring. But here it is, a small blurb of what could be the start of a series if you guys like it.

The Social Season

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x reader Summary: The Mikaelsons have returned to London for this year's social season. No girl had ever caught Elijah's eye before, until now. Word Count: 2772 Masterlist

London 1814

The London social season had been in full swing by the time the Mikaelsons had returned to the city during one of Lady Danbury’s events. Elijah and his siblings had barely walked through the doors before ruthless mamas began to smooth our their daughter’s dresses while eyeing them from across the room. Elijah was the prize, certainly, but if any woman was to catch a Mikaelson son at all they would consider it a win. Rebekah had also never had a difficulty keeping her dance card full. 

It was well past the first soiree of the season, but it was the first that the Mikaelson siblings had made an appearance at. The marriage-minded missus of the city (and their mamas) always kept a keen eye out for them. While they may not have had the status of the Duke, the Mikaelson family was both well known, respected, and equally as feared. Not even Lady Whistledown dared to write more than their names. 

“Must we return to this god-awful city every year?” Niklaus groaned as the wave of young bachelorettes swarmed towards them. 

“Speak for yourself,” Kol smiled, watching the ladies with a much different expression. “I rather like being adored.” 

“Mikaelsons!” they all heard coming from the opposite direction. Upon inspection they saw none other than Anthony Bridgerton advancing towards them. Rebekah and Elijah turned toward him with bright smiles with Niklaus and Kol tended to the hoard of ladies with empty dance cards. 

“Bridgerton,” Elijah greeted with a smile, meeting his arm in the middle to shake his hand in greeting. 

“You’ve missed a great amount in the short few weeks you’ve been absent this season.” 

“Yes, well, we had some family business to tie up back in the states across the water.” 

“No matter, you are all here now. You must join our family for a promenade sometime soon so I might regale you with all the happenings from the season thus far.” 

“I’m sure we’ll catch up plenty with a reading of the last couple Lady Whistledown issues,” Rebekah remarked with a small chuckle.

“Yes but surely, sister, as you know as well as I Whistledown doesn’t know everything,” Elijah corrected before turning back to Anthony with a smile. “We’ll be glad to join you, Bridgerton. You shall name the day.” 

“Fantastic! Oh and we must not forget the ball my mother is hosting at our estate in the country. You’d all be welcome there as my guests if you so desire.” 

“I would be honored, my lord,” Rebekah said with a smile, bowing her head slightly. It was no secret that she fancied the man. Her whole family could see it. While Rebekah had no intention of being courted or heavens forbid marrying anyone, she could still dream about the life she might live were she able to. The beautiful family that might surround her. The number of children she and the viscount might have been able to have together. But that was nothing more than a fantasy. Precisely the reason that Elijah was hardly ever seen taking any young ladies to the floor. He felt it foolish to fill them with futile hopes of him proposing. Every respectable lady of the ton desired marriage, children, a real family. Something none of the Mikaelsons would be able to provide. 

Nonetheless, the Mikaelsons always appeared before the ton each year during the height of the social season just long enough to maintain appearances. Not to mention, Kol had not found an easier afternoon snack than that of a young lady hoping for a betrothal. They never killed any of the members of the ton, of course. Such a high standing society member would surely be missed. Nothing a bit of the vampires’ own blood and a little compulsion couldn’t resolve.

“You must meet my dear cousin,” Anthony stated after a brief moment. “She’s come to live with us after the passing of her mother, my aunt.” 

Anthony turned as he beckoned you over to them. Elijah sighed as he looked down at his feet, readjudsting his posture to be more proper as he awaited your arrival. When his eyes met yours, however, his reluctance towards the introduction vanished. 

“Mikaelsons,” Anthony continued. “This is my cousin, miss Y/n Ledger.” 

“A pleasure,” you said with a polite smile and a perfect curtsy. 

“The pleasure is mine,” Elijah replied quickly, offering his hand for you to take. Once you softly placed your hand into his, Elijah brought it ever so slowly up to his lips as he touched the softest kiss to your gloved hand; an action that did not go unnoticed by Rebekah, nor the ravenous mamas behind them. Elijah was not one to give more than a curt nod to young ladies introducing themselves. “Lady Ledger-”

“Just miss Ledger,” you corrected. “Lady Ledger was my grandmother.” 

While the response was simple, it answered many of Elijah’s questions. For one, you were not married. If you had been married you would either hold a title as a lady or hold a different last name than your grandmother. Second, your mother was not married. Had your father been a Ledger himself, your mother would hold the title of Lady Ledger, not your grandmother. As that title is still her grandmother’s to hold, your mother hadn’t married a lord to gain the title herself. Thirdly, she must be related to the Bridgertons through the sister of the current vicountesses Bridgerton. 

“Pardon me, Miss Ledger. Would you care to do me the honor of a d-”

“Y/n, surely you must join me for a cool glass of lemonade,” Rebekah interrupted, linking her arm through yours as she dragged you away to the drinks table. 

Elijah stood dumbfounded as you both walked away. Rebakah knew it was improper to interrupt, but after living for 800 years she couldn’t come to care. Elijah watched your expression closely. He expected a protest, or for you to at least look back towards him. There wasn’t a chance you didn’t catch what he wanted to ask you. Any other lady would have jumped at the opportunity to be led to the floor by a Mikaelson. Especially by Elijah, being the eldest for all intents and purposes. 

As soon as the two of you were gone, Elijah was swarmed by the ton much like his brothers were just moments before. Nikalus and Kol could not agree to another single dance, having agreed to partner with a different lady for each one, so naturally the crowd has turned next

‘’ towards both Elijah and Anthony, knowing this was the season the viscount longed to secure a wife. 

Anthony looked towards Elijah with raised eyebrows as he let out a deep sigh before having to face the wolves. 

--- 

As the week went on, Elijah and Rebekah agreed to join the Bridgerton family in a turn about the park in Mayfair. Rebekah loved their family. She envied Violet’s ability to have so many children. A life she longed for herself. Elijah, on the other hand, wanted to know more about you. 

“Bridgertons,” Elijah greeted the family with a nod as they approached. “Miss Ledger,” he said toward you.

“My lord,” you greeted back with a smile and a small bow.

“Would you care for a turnabout the lake?” he offered, holding his arm out for you. 

“Oh,” you said with a slight tone of surprise, looking back at the Bridgerton family. Before you could find the words to accept or deny, Violet spoke up for you. 

“She would love one,” Violet beamed with a nod, pulling you forward to take his arm. 

You chuckled in defeat as you wrapped you arm around his, hand resting on the crook of his elbow. 

The two of you had barely gotten ten feet from the rest of the family before he bagan to bombard you with questions. You didn’t mind, of course. Most most began conversations this way, especially when “interviewing” their potential matches. 

“So I really must ask,” he began. “How is it that you’re not married yet?” 

You chuckled at his question, one of the ones you expected to hear first. “Well, my mother had me out of wedlock. If it wasn’t for or connection to the Bridgertons then I would be labeled a bastard child and thrown out of society entirely. Instead, my mother trained me from a young age so I could have the perfect match. She was determined. Too determined. Her determination ended up turning away a lot of possible suitors.”

As you spoke, you noticed Elijah was genuinely interested in what you had to say. He wasn’t spaced out as you rambled on, he didn’t seem annoyed or simply waiting for you to be finished. He wanted to know about you. About your life.

“As the seasons past, and I got older, everyone began to lose interest. I’ve been officially put ‘on the shelf’ as they would call it, at the ripe age of three and twenty.”

“Yet you still attend events with the rest of the ton?” he questioned. 

“Living with the Bridgertons comes with a surplus of invitations,” you explained with a smile. “And Eloise needs encouragement through her first season.” 

Elijah let out a laugh at that. “I pity any man who tries to tame her.” 

“Not possible,” you rebutted with a laugh of your own. “Eloise is one horse that cannot be tamed.”

As you continued to walk, you noticed many eyes turned to stare at the two of you. 

“And what of you?” you asked him. It was his turn to answer your questions. 

“What of me?” 

“Surely you have your number of available matches. Why have you gone so long without securing one?” 

Elijah chucked while glancing to the floor, watching your feet walk in sync. “In truth I’ve never had the desire to settle down with anyone,” he explained. “It didn’t seem like the type of life I was meant to live.” 

“And now?” you asked. Both of your steps had halted as you turned to face one another, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the words to answer you. 

“Now…” he began, not truly knowing what his answer was. “Now, I’m not sure what the future holds for me.” 

The two of you stayed in silence you a couple moments longer, stuck searching the others eyes for answers to questions you didn’t know. It wasn’t until you remembered where you were that you tore your eyes from his, clearing your throat.

“We should make our way back,” you said simply. “They’ll be serving tea under the gazebo soon. Would you and your sister care to join us?” 

It was Elijah’s turn tp clear his own throat, facing back towards the path in front of you as he continued to walk.

“Indeed,” he nodded. “That would be quite agreeable.”

After a few moments of silence, you spoke up again. “You must join us in Aubrey Hall next week.”

“Yes, Lord Bridgerton mentioned retiring to the country for a ball his mother is hosting.” 

“He’s invited the Sharma family to join us before the rest of the invited guests arrive, I insist your family do the same.” 

“Are you certain?” he asked with raised eyebrows. “We would not wish to be a burden.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” you assured him. “There is plenty of space and I could use the company while Anthony is busy in his dance of courtship. I shall discuss it with the family upon our return.” 

As the two of you walked back towards the Bridgertons, you felt eyes on you left and right. Both lords and ladys staring at the pair of you with two feelings on their mind. Confusing and envy. 

---

As the Mikaelsons dismounted from their carriage at Aubrey Hall, the entirety of the Bridgerton family was waiting to greet them. 

“Lord Mikaelson,” Violet smiled, greeting him with open arms. 

“Elijah, please,” he corrected, bowing his head slightly towards her. “You’ve invited us to be guests in your home, its only fair that you might call us by our given names. You know my sister, Rebekah,” he continued, motioning towards his siblings. “And might I introduce my brother, Niklaus and Kol.” 

“A pleasure, Lady Bridgerton,” Kol greeted with a bow of his own, followed by Niklaus.

“You have a lovely home,” he spoke up with a warm smile. 

“While you’re here you may think of it as your own,” Violet began before motioning towards the front doors. “Please, we were just about to sit down for tea. The Sharmas should be arriving any moment.”

As the group walked into the house, Elijah’s face lit up with a smile seeing you sitting in the parlor, waiting for everyone else. 

“My lord,” you smiled, standing up to offer a quick curtsy. “I’m pleased you could make it.”

Elijah grabbed your hand before your eyes raised to meet his, bringing it once more up to lightly caress it with his lips. Your breath hitches in your throat as this time, you weren’t wearing your gloves. 

“I wouldn’t miss it,” his said, looking back at you with a smile, you hand staying in his while he looks up at you. 

His eyes held yours for another moment before you heard a throat clear behind you. Elijah turned to see Kol with a sly smirk on his face.

“Ah, yes, miss Ledger allow me to introduce my brothers, Kol and Niklaus.” 

Both men in question smiled warmly as they each gave the the girl a quick bow. 

“Brother,” Elijah continued. “I’d like you both to meet miss Y/n Ledger. Cousin to the Bridgertons.” 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” you said with a smile of your own, giving a small curtsy. 

“Miss Ledger,” Niklaus starting, stepping forward to be next to Elijah. “I hear you’re quite the artist. I myself dabble in painting every now and again, I’d love to see your work.” 

Elijah looked towards his brother uneasily. Anyone who overheard him may have taken his comment as a kind remark, but Elijah didn’t miss the calculating grin on his face. He had an agenda. 

“An artist?” Elijah repeated with a slight tone of surprise. He wasn’t sure how his brother came to know this.

“Yes, brother. I’ve done my research,” Klaus answered back simply. 

“Oh,” you began, a bit take off guard by his knowledge of you. “Well I’ve tried my hand at painting every now and again, but Benedict is the true artist of the family. It’s him you’d be wanting to speak with about it.” 

“Miss Ledger I don’t recall ever seeing you on the dance floor,” Kol spoke up next. “You must allow me to lead you sometime. I am, after all, the best dancer in the family.” 

“Perhaps the best male dancer,” Rebekah spoke up, seemingly appearing beside him. “Both of you, stop overwhelming the poor girl.” 

“Oh, I really don’t mind, Lady Mikaelson.”

“Rebekah, please,” she almost scoffed. “Titles make me feel much too old.” 

“I couldn’t possibly-”

“I insist,” she interrupted. “In any case, we are all most comfortable being called by our given names. When one hears the name ‘Mikaelson’ being thrown from across the ballroom we never know for who it is intended for.” 

“Very well, Rebekah. Then you all must call me Y/n. Especially here in the country, away from the rules of London society.” 

“Lord Mikaelson,” Violet could be heard from behind, approaching the small group in the parlor. 

“Again, Elijah really is fine,” he corrected again with a chuckle.

“Elijah,” she repeated, a warm smile on her face. “You really must allow Y/n to take you on a tour of the grounds. I hear you’re quite the reader and my late husband, Edmund, had quite the collection in his library.” 

“But aunt Violet,” you started before Elijah could give an answer. “I told the kitchen staff that I would assist in serving the tea.” 

Violet waved you off. “I shall send down Eloise to help them. You go on and show Elijah your uncle’s library upstairs.” 

“I would love to see it,” Elijah added, urging you with his smile.

“Very well,” you nodded. Elijah help out his arm, motioning for you to go first, following close behind as you led him up to the Bridgerton’s library. 

“Might they be needing a chaperone, Lady Bridgerton?” Rebekah asked her with a sly grin, catching onto Violet’s schemes. 

“I’m not sure as to who you are referring,” she replied with an innocent shrug, turning back to return to the rest of her family. 

[arabellavernierwrites]

pelvic floor relaxation. s.r.

summary : after sex with spencer , you begin experiencing pain , he helps you through it.

word count : 803

warnings : mentions of sex , mentions of pain after sex , discussion of some female anatomy

a/n : hello everyone ! welcome back ! sorry i’ve been gone for a few weeks , i have been taking summer courses and haven’t had much time to write. but i am still accepting requests and would really love for you all to send some in so please ! send some requests i love writing for you ! and for me. this idea randomly came to me this evening and i wanted to write something small about it for you all to read. i am not a doctor , if you are experiencing pain after intercourse i do recommend speaking with a professional (and always pee after sex like i mention here !). take care of yourselves , i’ve missed you guys , it’s lovely to be back. have an amazing wonderful incredible day ! love you guys !

quietly catching your breath, you swung your leg over to the side, tossing yourself onto the bed from straddling spencer’s lap.

his long arms reached out, pulling you in close as you faced him, “how are you feeling?”

“good. you were wonderful, sweetheart. thank you,” you softly tucked his hair behind his ear, tracing your finger down the length of his cheek, “how about you?”

“great,” he blushed, breaking eye contact and smiling to himself, “thank you”.

he placed a gentle kiss on your lips. admiration was evident in his gaze, it practically dripped from his supple skin.

you and spencer were intimate fairly often. of course he had always been fantastic in bed, but when the two of you first met, he was rather inexperienced. it didn’t take you both long to learn what worked for the other, and after a few more times together, he pleased you in ways that men were not often able to do.

how good he was wasn’t the most important thing, though. it was the care, communication, and gentility that mattered most to you. no matter how many times the two of you had sex, he always wanted to make sure you felt safe, comfortable, and satisfied.

the same went for you. you always wanted spencer to feel good, and found ways to care for him during sex that made the experience even more pleasurable for him.

“i’m going to grab us some water, okay?” he stated quietly, caressing his large hand from your shoulder to elbow.

you nodded, a small smile on your face as you got up to go to the bathroom.

the two of you helped each other into some comfortable clothes, spencer a pair of pajamas, you a t-shirt and some underwear. a quick peck was shared before parting again.

you winced, a tight cramp pulling at your lower pelvic area. on occasion, you had experienced some post-coital soreness, but this sensation was different. feeling your muscles constrict, you bent over slightly to see if it would relieve some of the pain.

you brushed it off for a moment, using the restroom and making your way back into the bedroom when you were struck with a wave of it again.

spencer was placing a glass of water on your nightstand when he looked up, a flash of worry striking his face upon seeing you hunched over, holding your lower abdomen and resting against the doorway.

“are you alright, baby?” he asked, rushing over to you.

“i’ve got this weird feeling,” you spoke as he wrapped his arms around you, helping you into the bed, “my muscles keep cramping, it’s like a really tight, pulling sensation”

you placed your head on the pillow, closing your eyes for a second to focus yourself. spencer brushed the hair off of your forehead, taking a seat next to you.

“have you had enough water today?” he asked sincerely, placing a hand on your side.

“of course,” you replied, nodding your head.

“did you workout?” he continued, ready to get to the bottom of your discomfort.

“yesterday, yes. today, no, i didn’t” you responded.

“did you relax your pelvic floor before we had sex?” he questioned.

“spencer!” you couldn’t help but laugh at his interrogation.

“i’m being serious!” he defended, brushing your shirt off of your lower stomach, massaging circles with his thumb, “it’s important to take time to relax your pelvic floor before sexual intercourse. it can help increase vaginal lubrication, as well as increase blood flow for better orgasms, and reduce the risk of muscle straining”.

“what would i do without dr reid telling me what to do about my vaginal issues,” you grinned, shaking your head.

“i’m not telling you what to do! i’m giving you advice based on my readings,” he shrugged his shoulders as you laughed at his readings, because of course he would have his readings, “don’t laugh at my readings”.

“i’m not, you’re just cute,” you teased, “how would i relax my pelvic floor?”

“if you place one hand on your chest, and the other on your stomach, you can breathe in intervals to help it return to it’s resting rate. there are also a series of stretches and different sets of clitoral exercises that i can walk you through next time if you would like,” he rambled, his tender touch never leaving your skin.

“i might have to take you up on that,” you shifted uncomfortably at the feeling in your abdomen.

“but in all seriousness, what can i do for you?” he asked, a genuine look wiping across his face.

“i think an advil will help,” you placed your hand on top of his, ceasing the moving of his thumb, “and a hug and a kiss when you get back”.

a small, well-meaning smirk graced his lips, “deal”.

[rexobiweek]

Announcing 2024 RexObi Fest!

It's that time of year again where we are on the cusp of everyone's favorite season of relaxation! Think past the spring rains toward the sunny beach days and fantastic adventures of summer vacations! Think of meeting the boy cute as can be, bowling in the arcade, making out under the dock, the summer heat and summer nights. Think of the summer lovin’ Rex and Obi-Wan can have during a vacation over the summer and early fall.

Announcing RexObi Fest 2024!

We are a laid-back RexObi event with no minimum requirements for any fanwork created for the event–so long as RexObi is the focus of your fanwork, anything goes!

The 2024 theme for RexObi Fest is vacation!

As always, our prompts have been set for this event. We have 13 word prompts and 6 image prompts to spark your creativity. Content creators will have 8 weeks to work on their creation(s), so you can do as many, or as few, as you want.

Dates to be aware of:

Prompts will be announced the first week in July (between July 1 and July 5)

AO3 Collection will open in mid-August

Posting week is from September 1 through September 7, 2024

Kick back, relax, take a vacation away from life's stress, and find some summer lovin' with Rex and Obi!

please reblog if you’re interested to help spread the word!

@swfandomevents for visibility! Art by the AMAZING @omaano!!!!

[portlandwithyou]

A Digital Fangirl's Journey into the Analog World

It started with a search, three words typed into the eBay search bar. Due South zine.

I began my fandom journey online when high-speed internet was slowly rolling out in the United States. I've never known a time in fandom when a million search results weren't at the tips of my fingers, and yet I've been nostalgic for a more physical relationship with fandom. Thankfully, the @ds30below fest announcement had a week devoted to history. The perfect excuse to dive into zines for the first time.

Due Frisky #2 is a digest-sized, soft-cover zine held together with staples. This baby fits perfectly in your hand for reading anywhere. The photo doesn't do it justice, but the cover is a pretty pinky-red color.

Inside, there is a table of contents, an editor's note, the stories, and, at the back, a short advertisement for more zines from the same press. Included at the end of each full-length story is a black-and-white photograph from the show that is connected to the story's content. This is an F/V zine from January of 1997, although nowhere do they address or even mention Ray K. Perhaps issue one dealt with that?

As for the content itself, there are four stories and one poetry cycle. I'd especially like to highlight the first story, "Perfection" by Khylara, which deals with Ray V's Catholicism in such a beautiful way that I was practically jumping with joy as I read. Unfortunately, my searches have not turned up this fic anywhere online to share! It's such a shame, too; it's so thoughtful.

Speaking of which, although I can find some of the authors online, I haven't found any of the particular fics from the zine available. Mireille, who people may know from their other F/V works, has the first part of a multiple-part series in this zine. Now, the editors warn you of this in the editor's notes, but I had forgotten by the time I got to this story, and frankly, I am climbing the walls wondering what happens next!

I found reading this zine extremely satisfying. It was wonderful to have some fanfic to curl up with during a spring storm while being beholden to a supercomputer in my hand.

I also loved reading stories that were contemporary to the show's actual airing. I found the language to be just ever slightly more formal than fanfic nowadays, but in a way that was not distracting or detracting.

Another thing, as the title might imply, all of the stories feature sex and sexuality as a topic. Obviously, given my track record, that doesn't bother me. But I could see where that would turn some off from reading. There's drama, fluff, and plenty of other emotions throughout the pieces, but at the end of the day, they will be having sex.

Overall, this was a fantastic zine for a beginner. Every piece was wonderful, and I anticipate reading it again many times.

[jmdbjk]

Looking back and forward.

2023 was one for the books.

It is Thursday, Dec. 7 where I am... Friday, Dec. 8 in Korea.

It is the last Friday for Namjoon, Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook to be civilians. This is their last weekend to spend in their homes, at the company to work, running along the river, doing boxing workouts, ordering delivery food, loving on their dogs, doing the things they've been doing the last over ten years. It will be about 100 days until they get time off and can maybe spend some time back at home.

They are tying up loose ends, getting their shit together, preparing to put their lives on hold.

They will return to us in mid-June 2025.

I've watched their last group live several times after the english subs were up. There were a lot of things I saw and I have a lot of mixed emotions about it all.

None of us know these men, we are observers and all we know is what they choose to show us. Unfortunately, they can't control every single thing and people and the media insist on prying and publishing images and things about them that lead to unconfirmed rumors and misinformation.

In the approximately 38 minutes they shared with us, they conveyed that they are getting ready to go, they seemed in positive spirits. They conveyed that they were still working on things for us (except Jungkook).

They said there was A LOT of content coming, so much... they've NEVER ever reassured us like this before.

They asked fans to NOT show up at the induction site out of respect for the other men and their families also entering the military those days. They explicitly said "we are their face and to do them proud."

During this live, I saw Tae being the fantastically funny guy that he is. Tae was alight with excitement. He was anxious to learn from his fellow soldiers. He is a flower waiting to bloom. And seeing his friendship with Jimin maturing, flourishing, same age friends forever was wonderful.

And Namjoon trying to keep up with the crazy shenanigans of the maknae line. Trying to be the voice of reason: "it'll go by quick, we've left a lot of content. Jin will be back soon. We'll all get strong." But there seemed to be a bit of push and pull between he and Jimin... it was interesting. But he was lighthearted, positive, going into with an open mind. Get in, get out, get back to work.

Jimin, Jimin, Jimin... There was a bit of resignation wrapped up in Jimin's positivity. He wouldn't agree that it would go by fast and he didn't want to show himself with the buzz cut. I wanted to reach through the screen and hold his hand and reassure him we'd be here waiting and that we know it's hard to leave everything right now to do this. This man lives to do work on his passion. He's already had to stop once. Now he has to do it again. I think he is going into his MS kicking and screaming because he does not want to leave his youth behind. It is unfinished.

He said he had been sick. He coughed, sneezed and sniffled the entire live. I hope all of these symptoms have disappeared by Monday/Tuesday. I remember his friend Sungwoon had to delay his enlistment date because he tested positive for covid. Please don't let that happen to any of our four.

During this last group live, I saw a Jungkook that I'd never seen before. His vibe was so in tune to Jimin. I know he's been that way since... 2017? 2018? But this was so in your face I was dumbfounded. Jungkook constantly soothing Jiminie. The things they probably talked about while they were in Japan a few weeks ago, man, to be a fly on the wall.

ALL of those lives he did this past year flashed through my head, how unhinged he was the first few months, falling asleep drunk with the candle, calling out stalkers. ALL those times WE said he was missing Jimin because he was begging him to come eat chicken and drink beer, or come do a boxing workout, or better yet, "let me come over and we can shower together..." No... I meant to say: he can go over to Jimin's and wash up and do a live together. Yes, that's what he said. Beggged him. Tried to use Army as leverage. And all we got was Jimin saying he "can handle it" and "you know how my personality is"...

Jungkook watching all that Jimin content... something happened, some decision was made early in the year. Jungkook embraced it and ran with it.

And to know they are going into the service together, it still has me astonished but it all makes sense now. Y'all... they knew they were going to do this wayyyyyy back, not just in August or September when they applied. Jungkook said back in February (before someone lit a fire under his butt in March to start working on music) that he had to take care of his body for the next year. This has been the plan and Jungkook said "no worries, I got this."

2023 was A LOT.

Jimin, Face: the melodies poured out (as they seem to be free-flowing from him at any given moment) but he had to pry those lyrics out of himself. Jimin achieved a #1 BBHot100. And yes, it appears there were not just one, but TWO of those blasted cakes. I didn't know much about PDogg before Jimin's documentary but now I know how much he supported Jimin during this process.

Yoongi, D-Day: I got to see Yoongi in real life. That weekend flew by for me. One of the best weekends ever. As soon as the concert was over I said out loud, I need to see all seven on that stage. His concert tour filled a void for us. We needed that so bad after last year's gut-wrenching news that there would be no tour. And now he's fulfilling his social service. Let him serve quietly with dignity.

Hobi, Military: after tearfully sending him off, what we hear now is he's cracking the whip, though ever-so empathetically (not to be confused with emphatically) over those new enlistees every day. I need to see his boom chakalaka marching drills. Jimin said when he visited Hobi, he wasn't greeted with his ebullient "Jaman!" but more of a lowkey "oh, you're here."

Jungkook, his solo songs and album: Jungkookie chose to go the route of choosing songs that resonated with him. Over the course of years, Kookie has always shared songs with us. We used to love his song recs and his covers of very poignant songs. He KILLED those songs with his vocals. He did what HE wanted to do. And look how well he did with it, also a #1 BBHot100.

Taehyung, Layover: again, Taehyung did what he wanted to do. Not on his album, but Taehyung singing along with Karen Carpenter was never on my bingo card, ever! (a clip on his Instagram stories where he was singing along to "Close to You")

RM, we kept wondering: why isn't he enlisted yet? Someone had to wrangle the maknae. Not that he ever did that this past year. He cut himself over his left eye and had to get stitches... that's gonna leave a scar. Good thing there are 40 bajillion plastic surgeons in Seoul...

Jin is coming. The Head of Ministry of the Military making the decision that no celeb will be doing anything special, instead they will serve just like regular civilians. Sergeant Kim Seokjin will become civilian Jin of BTS on June 12, 2024.

Their constant looking forward to 2025

Skipping over 2024 for the moment...

BTS has to evolve. They must evolve. They are not going to be a 30 something year old K-pop boy band. Some groups might be stuck but BTS will not stay stagnant, they never have. They have to step forward out of that niche and they have been trying to do that incrementally for a while now. They’ve taken us in baby steps already through chapter 2, and Joon said the REAL chapter 2 will begin when they are back from fulfilling their service.

What will they be like? Will they reinvent themselves? Perhaps, but not overnight. I don’t see any sort of extreme makeover for BTS once they come back together. I do see them addressing more mature topics (as we’ve seen), I do hope we see songwriting from all members.

They don't need to abandon their Korean-ness in order to accomplish this. There is nothing stopping them from being a mainstream artist who just happens to be from Korea and who release songs that are in Korean.

I think the accomplishments that Jungkook achieved will continue to pull BTS out of the K-pop realm and into the main stream Pop music realm. They worked that western market. They got pushback, especially western industry institutions: Billboard and the Grammys. And they learned.

Progress is slow but progress nevertheless. They will cross over to general pop one way or the other. They are not going to stay in the kpop box in the future. Straddle both at the same time. They can do it.

For 2024:

I think comeback/HYYH 10th anniversary reboot is already in the works and has been.

I think PDogg will be working on the songs over the next year. I think they have recorded all this year.

I think when Jin and Hobi get back, they might record their parts. I also am pretty sure we'll see a full-bodied solo effort from Jin and more from Hobi. I think we'll get a ramp up to his discharge with some Hope on the Street content that he recorded before he enlisted.

I think we'll slowly see wheels start turning to get the machine going again much sooner than we imagined.

I think what we see next year will all be primed to pre-promote and whip up the excitement for 2025.

I just feel strongly that Bang PD would NOT have mentioned that specific thing and we would not be hearing the members constantly saying 2025. And especially saying 2025 is not that far in the future and that they are looking forward to the incredible synergy the group will have when they get back together. They've got a lot of work done already. They know already.

They said there is A LOT coming to us.

In about two weeks BTS: Beyond the Star docu-series will begin.

We know we're getting some sort of Jimin and Jungkook traveling content, whether a series or not...I'm leaning toward it being a multi-episode series. Camping? Drinking? Breweries? Beaches? Boating or sailing or both but separate? Fishing? Snow sports? They said it was fun.

We will see activity around all the solo album anniversaries. We still have an RM documentary, a Taehyung documentary and a Jungkook documentary. I bet the latter two will come out towards the end of 2024.

We might have Tae acting, we know he'll be in an IU MV soon.

About aging bangtan ...

Remember when we said this is Bangtan in 20 years?

I joke about it but seriously they are aware that things will be different as they evolve and age as people and as artists.

There are new groups debuting all the time and BTS is aging out of a certain demographic (as they should).

Yoongi saying "cruise with BTS" would be the best case scenario for their future.

I would love to be on that cruise if it ever happens.

[pedal-writes]

Homesick (1)

Summary: What happens when Sam Witwicky's older sister, you, gets wrapped up with the conflict of the autobots and the decepticons coincidentally by visiting your family? Over time, it seems that you and the autobot's leader find out you two have more in common than you initially thought… But it doesn't really mean anything, right?

A/N: Hi everyone! This is gonna be my first actual long fanfic which I'm pretty nervous about (since I always seem to backtrack on the ones I try to write.)

But I recently watched Transformers 2007 and the brainrot is honestly too intense, I had to do something about it so bayverse OP x reader!! It's funny, I've been a transformers fan since 2017 and I've now just got around to watching the movie. I was kinda putting it off since it's not exactly a fan fav among some transformers fans haha. Oh yeah, there are a few scenes from the movie I won't write like the weird bumblebee piss scene and some of the mildly suggestive dialogue considering the other two main characters (besides the reader) are literally like 16 😭. Micheal bay is a freak!!!

Just a heads up, I guess I'm going for a more wattpad-y vibe for this fic considering some of the tropes that I'm using and the fact I'm going directly off of the tf 2007 movie (cause that's like every bayverse op x reader that's on there lolz). Idk Ig I just have a guilty pleasure for corny fics so yeah!!

If y'all want to read this on ao3 or Wattpad, it's in my pinned post :3 Anyways, bye pookies!!

As the moon's reflected light illuminated the dark room, it was quiet besides the occasional shuffling and jolting that came from your sleeping form. Suddenly your eyes shot open. You groaned as you sat up and felt a layer of cold sweat coating your forehead. You shakily got up from the bed and began a walk to the kitchen to get a glass of water. A small creak came from the cabinet and you grabbed a small glass and filled it with tap water, taking a few gulps. After four long years of college, you decided to move away from your hometown and all the way across the country to the east coast. Los Angeles was never your type of city as, in your opinion, it was mainly set up for movie stars and aspiring musicians, not computer scientists. So moving to a completely different city like Philadelphia to pursue your passion sounded like a fantastic idea. But now that you’re here, you’ve felt nothing but homesick.

You’ve always been a family-orientated person, always spending time with your parents and helping Sam, your little brother, with what he needed for school. Although he could be a serious little shit sometimes, the two of you were like peas in a pod, absolute besties! A small smile grows across your face as you think of the times you picked him up from school and took him to the arcade or when you always managed to find tickets to his favorite bands and saw them during the weekends.

A small sigh leaves your lips and you set down your glass on the counter. You walk back into your bedroom and take a look at the calendar hanging on the wall, the month being March. The thought of visiting your family crossed your mind and you could wait a few more months until summer came around but it’s not like you were working at the moment. After you moved, you were working a job as an information security analyst. The pay was definitely above average and it was going alright until an unsavory incident happened with a coworker and you literally couldn’t work there, so you quit.

Alright, I have enough money in my bank account to buy a plane ticket and to sustain me for a few weeks while I’m there. I should probably call mom in the morning and tell her I’m planning on visiting, her and dad will probably be ecstatic. As for Sam…

You opened a drawer on your nightstand and pulled out a piece of jewelry. It was an opal bead necklace you found at the mall one day. It was sort of an impulsive purchase, considering the price, but you thought it would be a nice gift for your little brother because opal was his birthstone after all. You gently placed the necklace back in the drawer and shut it, making your way back to your calendar and writing a few reminders on some of the upcoming days. 

       . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

After all the planning and flying, you were finally back in California. It really was a pain since there somehow weren't any available flights to Los Angeles from Philadelphia so you had to spend the night in an empty airport in Kansas and fly to L.A. in the morning. A yawn falls from your lips as you drive through the familiar neighborhoods leading up to your family's home. You turn on the radio and the latest hit began to play, “Irreplaceable” by Beyonce you thought. It wasn’t really your type of music but it’s Beyonce.

A few minutes passed and you heard your phone ringing. You turned down the radio and grabbed it from the passenger seat, flipping it open and putting it against your ear. “Hello?”

‘Hi honey.’ It was your mom. ‘How far out are you?’

“Oh hi mom. I’m not that far, just give me a few more minutes. You don’t have to call me when you know I'll be there eventually.” You chuckled, gently pressing the brakes as you stopped at a red light.

‘I know, I’m just excited to see you!’ Her voice buzzed excitedly. ‘I’ll be waiting outside for you, see you in a bit.’

“See you in a bit.”

A few moments later the familiar layout of your house came into view and you couldn't help but feel a bit giddy. You saw your mom, Judy, excitedly waving next to the frontdoor, you smiled to yourself. You pulled your car into the driveway and got out of it, Judy pulling you into a tight hug, swaying you from side to side slightly. "I'm so happy to see you, honey!" 

She said sweetly, pulling away while holding both of your hands. "How’s my little genius been?"

Your smile turned into a small frown. "Oh I've been doing... alright for the most part. I had to quit my job recently because of a bad experience I had with a coworker. I’ll tell you about it later but it really sucks, I liked that job." You grimaced slightly at the memories of the not-very-pleasant experience, Judy patting your back in a comforting manner. "Anyway, say, where's dad?" You abruptly changed the subject.

"Oh, your father had to run some errands, but he'll be back soon. He's been so hellbent on making his grass perfect. I think he's starting to go a bit crazy." She said, doing a swirly motion around the side of her head.

You chuckle as you walk back over to your car to retrieve your bag and suitcase. You and Judy walk into the house, an excited mojo greeting you by jumping up and down in that typical chihuahua fashion. "Aw, hi mojo." You cooed, leaning down and petting him near his ears. "I missed you too." Your eyes drifted down to his coller, seeing the jewelry wrapped around his neck.

“Is this your doing, mom?” You laughed.

Judy simply shrugged. “I think it looks cute on him. Oh yeah, Sam's upstairs doing his whole eBay thing, I'm sure he'll tell you all about it when you talk to him." Judy said, walking towards the kitchen and preheating the oven. "Do you need help with your bags?"

"No I'm alright mom, thanks though." You say, walking towards the staircase with your bags in hand.

"Alright honey, make sure to tell Sam I'm making lunch."

"Will do!" You holler from upstairs.

You head towards the rather empty room that used to be yours and set your things down, looking around at the empty walls where posters used to hang and the still neat bed, feeling a little nostalgic. You exit your room and head right to Sam's, ignoring the do not enter sign and opening the door. You see your brother’s hunched over figure messing around on his computer and shake your head, knocking on the door frame to alert him of your presence. Sam jumped, turning around suddenly. "Jesus! You scared the shit outta me. I didn't know you were here yet."

"I can't believe you didn't hear me. Come here, give me a hug dude." You said, spreading your arms in an inviting motion. Sam rolled his eyes and walked over and hugged you. You gave him a small pat on the back and pulled away from him, giving him a small grin. "So how are things? How's school?" You asked.

"It's good, pretty good. I've been trying to get this whole eBay thing running. Oh yeah, and dad made a deal with me and soon I’ll have my own car. I just gotta get an A on this history project coming up." Sam replied, turning around and typing a few more things into his laptop before closing it.

“Wow, that’s awfully generous of him. I’m excited for you though.” You chuckled, leaning against his door frame and crossing your arms. "Anything new with that one girl… What was her name?"

"You mean Mikaela?”

“Yeah Mikaela, The girl you’ve liked since forever and is totally not out of your league.” You said sarcastically.

"What??" Sam exclaimed, whipping his head towards you. "She is not out of my league! She is really gorgeous and stunning in every single way, and she would totally give me a chance. I just gotta… ask her.”

"And when will that be, Casanova?" You laughed.

"Soon! Really really soon. When I get this car next week, and I will get that A, then I’ll have a chance! Any girl loves a guy with a nice car." Sam said, a cocky tone in his voice. 

"Oookay, I hear you... oh yeah! Hold on, I got something for you, give me a second..." You walked into your room and rummaged through your purse, pulling out the necklace. You walk back into Sam’s room and excitedly give him the piece of jewelry. “I found it while I was shopping at the local mall a few months ago. Since Opal is your birthstone, I thought you’d like it. And it’s also not a super girly necklace, you’re welcome by the way.”

Sam took the necklace from your hands and admired the carefully strung together beads in the sunlight of his window, the beads glimmering a variety of colors. “Wow this is really neat. Thank you but y’know, I'm not really much of a jewelry guy." Sam said a bit nervously.

"Oh come on, wear it!" You pat him on the back reassuringly. "Girls love guys who are comfortable with their sexuality, it shows maturity. Besides, you'll look like one of those... surfer guys. You know what I mean? When they wear those small necklaces.”

Sam frowned and gestured to himself. "Do I look like a surfer guy?"

"I’m just trying to be supportive!" You said, making your way out of the room. "By the way, mom's making lunch. Make sure not to get too engrossed in your master plan of getting with Mikaela and actually put some meat on those bones." You commented teasingly.

Sam groaned and waved you off dismissively, sitting down at his desk again. You chuckle and walk into your room, crouching down and pulling a few essentials out of your suitcase. Now that you’re back in Cali, you were excited to see a few of your friends that you’ve been friends with since high-school. Funnily enough, you managed to become friends with the “popular girls” solely because you helped a few of them with their math and science work and now they deemed you besties for life.

Which you didn’t mind honestly.

Most of these girls were rich and actually really nice despite what people stereotype “popular girls” to be. The person that comes to mind is your friend Felicity. She’s probably the one you would call your “top tier bestie”, the girl that constantly came over to your house when you were a teenager (annoying your brother immensely), the girl that called you like every single day you were away to college since you two went to different ones. She was super duper excited when you called her, telling her how you were gonna be in town for a few weeks.

Of course she had plans for you two to go to the spa and then go to the beach and blah blah blah. It would be nice to get out of the house every once in a while to catch up since Sam's gonna be in school most of the time. You put your laptop down on your bed and was about to sit down before you heard your mom yell for you from the kitchen.

“Hey sweetie, can you come down and help me?”

“Oh– Coming Mom!” You quickly got up and left your room, heading downstairs. You couldn’t help but look forward to the next few upcoming weeks, knowing it’ll be the most eventful and actually fun thing you’ve done in months. 

[shewrites444]

ghost [xavier plympton x reader]

[ inspired from ahs 1984, and of course written by me. super cheesy smut fic since i wrote this over a year ago and it has been sitting in my drafts, but why not post it for my ahs lovers. enjoy! ]

word count - 2.4k

[summary: the reader is a counselor at the former camp redwood, now camp meadow, and meets a very friendly, yet also flirtatious ghost during her first night.]

[warnings: dirty talk, oral, unprotected sex]

regardless of how much my mom and i argued, i continued to deny her stupid reasons to not work at camp meadow the summer. the second massacre of 1984 was not even in the current century, so i knew not to overreact about any possible harm coming my way. i loved a good thrill anyway, so maybe some stupid kids pretending to be the night stalker or mr. jingles would be the most enjoyable portion of the long week anyway.

after finally convincing my friend [y/f/n] to come with me, i was felt my decision was for the best. the drive was a few hours long and once we arrived, we were able to meet our fellow counselors and the head counselor, who seemed nice enough, and not very strict whatsoever.

"i'm going to try my hardest to make this week enjoyable for not only the kids, but the counselors as well." miss thompson smiled at us, nodding her head with respect towards the young group. "i know this place has a lot of bad memories, but with a new name, new cabins, and much more, we can make newer, better memories. if you guys have any concerns or questions, please let me know. i'm available anytime."

[y/f/n] nods, then raises her hand, which miss thompson acknowledges immediately. "what about showers? we haven't gone over that yet."

miss thompson told us we had to shower before midnight, to make sure we had hot water the next morning for the kids, in case they needed a bath or anything of the sort.

after taking turns one by one, i was last in line for my shower. i decided to wait until it was dark, so i didn't have any concerns about my friends coming to prank me with stupid, useless scares. they were all tired, cuddled up in their bunks and ready to prepare for the next morning, which would be extremely busy with the amount of kids the head counselor said we were expecting.

i grab my towel and a change of clothes, along with my razor, and made my way towards the showers. i set everything down before stripping off my baggy, light washed jeans and plain black crop top, then turn the water on, waiting until it's hot enough to step into.

i close my eyes, humming quietly to myself as i wet my hair, reaching over to grab the shampoo bottle. i squirt it into my hand, then sigh upon realizing it's all out.

"just fucking fantastic." i scoff, setting the bottle down and just deciding to shave instead. i grab the bar of soap and lather my right leg up, grabbing the razor and sliding it against my skin.

while doing so, i feel a cold gust of wind against my heated, wet skin, looking up with confusion as it suddenly stops. i shake my head, ignoring the situation and going back to my legs. after shaving, i set the razor down and glance to the shower next to me, seeing there was no shampoo in there, either. i really preferred to wash my hair tonight, knowing that it would be funky the next day, since we were expected to take the kids in canoes and swimming.

"looking for this?" i hear a low masculine voice, making me jump and squeak in surprise, turning around to see a blonde boy, dressed in a pair of white khakis and a teal sweatshirt, with a pair of white high-top converse. he had one silver cross earring, which hung on his right ear and shook as he stepped closer, holding a small shampoo bottle in his hand.

i blink numerous times, trying to fathom the fact that the boy was really there. he looked like he belonged in a different universe, or era, to say the least. i step closer and grab it from him, squeezing it in my hands to assure what was happening was actually real. i realize that if this is real, i'm bare ass naked in front of this random guy.

i snatch the towel from the sink, holding it over my body as my cheeks begin to heaten, and not just from the hot water. "who the fuck are you? and why the fuck are you in here while i'm showering?!"

he ran his fingers through his blonde highlights, laughing to himself, as if the situation was amusing. "well, i actually live here. i heard you and your buddies talking about the massacres that took place here earlier today. kinda disappointed you don't recognize me."

i wrap the towel around myself, stepping closer to him, and crossing my arms in complete confusion. "i'm sorry, but i don't think anyone just casually lives at camp meadow. this is like, a summer camp. i don't think it's legal to live here unless you own the camp, and the person who owns this place is a woman. so, i ask again, who are you, and why in the hell should i recognize you?"

"i'm xavier!" he yells in frustration, seeming offended i didn't know this infamous name. "xavier plympton. i was one of the few who were killed here in the '84 massacre. you haven't read up on the conspiracy there's ghosts here? you're looking at one from the 80's." he winks, watching as my eyes widen in shock.

"there's no way." i shake my head, looking at him from head to toe, completely flabbergasted by his unrealistic explanation. "ghosts can't just live here on earth forever, right? i thought you guys would at least go to heaven or hell, or something. not that i believe in that shit, but you'd at least go somewhere other than here."

xavier shrugged, taking a step closer to me, reaching his hand to my bare, wet shoulder. he smiled, sighing as he felt my skin. "i wish i felt like this again. being a ghost sucks sometimes. i feel so empty, so inhuman. i haven't felt someone so warm, so human, in years."

i pull back, pushing his hand off of me. "okay, um, xavier plympton. sorry to disappoint, but you probably won't be feeling this human ever again. now if you'll excuse me, i really need to wash my hair. thank you for the shampoo, but i seriously need you to leave."

he sighed, crossing his arms and lightly tapping his foot in annoyance at my resistance. "come on, [y/n]. i'm the whole reason you can even wash your hair. one more touch please, maybe on your face or something? it makes me feel normal again!" he whines, making a pouty face towards me.

"how do you know my name, weirdo?" i ask, looking at him with annoyance and a bit of confusion. "and no, you can't touch my face. if anything, that's the farthest from feeling normal. that's just being a creep."

xavier walked closer to me, "i do my research. i have nothing else to do around here, so why not eavesdrop on the new counselors before they're here forever like the rest of us, hm?"

my eyes widen as i walk back, hitting the shower water with my back, and feeling the towel begin to get soaked. i gulp, trying to scan him for any potential weapon. "well, if you kill me, then you won't be able to like.. touch my shoulder or whatever.. i thought you wanted to feel what it was like to be human, remember?"

he laughed, reaching to tug the side of the towel, biting his lip and looking up to meet our eyes. "i wouldn't hurt you or let anyone else do so, [y/n]. you're not like everyone else around here. you seem different, like you aren't afraid of a fucking stick breaking when you walk at night like those other pussy counselors. i mean, you came out here at almost midnight and showered all alone, so it's like you were practically begging me to touch more then just your shoulder.."

i blush, crossing my arms to make his fingers break from the fabric, breathing in and out rather heavily, as i felt my stomach turn at his words. "what would ever make you think i'd want you to touch me? maybe that's your brain, just because you've only had ghost pussy for like twenty years."

"maybe, instead, it's because you excite me." xavier snaps back with a flick of his pink tongue. he grabs the towel, slowly pulling it back off of me, then tossing it to the wooden floor. he grabs the shampoo, squirting some into his palm before lathering it up, gesturing for me to turn around. he sinks his fingers into my hair, beginning to wash it with soft, relaxing strokes from his fingertips. i close my eyes, practically melting at his touch and feeling my legs quickly drench with pleasure as he begins to kiss down my wet neck and soon to my bare shoulders.

this goes on for a few minutes, when he then helps to wash the shampoo out of my hair, and turns me back towards him. i watch him strip of his clothing, except for his light blue boxers, which showed off his stiff, hard length, poking directly towards my wet pussy.

i chew my lip, looking down at his length, before locking our lust-filled eyes. he moves closer to press his lips against my cheek, then smiles seductively.

"if i'm going to fuck you, i'd like to do so in a place more, comfortable. for the both of us, of course." he explains, taking my hand and pulling me away from the water. i look to him, raising a brow, and watching as he hands me the towel.

i follow him outside, as he walks towards an empty cabin, several down from the one i was staying in. i let him sit me down on the bed, where i pull the towel off of myself and set it on the dresser. i lay on my back, spreading my legs in his direction as he pulls his boxers down. he looks at me with a grin, chuckling as he walks over to shut my legs, making my sit up with complete confusion.

"thought we were going to have sex, xavier. not play games, right?" i chirp, looking at the blonde as he sticks two fingers in his mouth, then pins me back down, sliding them to my clit, answering my own question. so no sex yet, only some foreplay so far, which was absolutely fine by me.

he came off as a man who wanted to skip the foreplay, but the second he pumped his fingers inside of me, i was thankfully my interpretation was wrong. i gasp, letting out a loud moan as he began to finger me, curling his digits inside of me with each thrust, in and out.

xavier leaned down to latch his lips to my nipple, sucking softly for a minute before pulling his head up. he looks down at me, pleased with my moans, while he reads my lustful expression.

"the minute i saw you walk into this camp, i knew you'd been needing a good dicking, [y/n]. the way you looked at those other counselors when they were introduced to you.. you've been wanting someone inside of you for awhile now, and who better then me, hm?" he talked into my ear, his hot breath against my skin as he worked his magic inside of me. "i could fuck you so hard tonight you'd never wanna leave camp, baby. you'd be begging for my cock from when you wake up to when you go to sleep. i can already feel how good your pussy is, so i may be begging you for the same later.."

i glance up at him, then down to his hand, as he rapidly finger fucks my insides. i'm dripping at his touch, my juices sinking between my ass cheeks and his fingers, visibly noticeable as he pulls out of me, moving his index and middle fingers to my throbbing clit.

as he rubs, i moan loudly, my eyes shut while he motions himself in front of me. he kneels on the bed, using his free hand to line up his length with my pussy. he pushes himself in slowly, as a way to warn me of what's to come. he was big, and it was now very obvious as he had already filled a substantial portion of my insides with not even half his cock. i nod with reassurance, allowing him to push himself into me, so deep his balls were pressing against my folds.

xavier begins to thrust, pulling his hand away from my clit and taking a hold of my own hand, lacing his fingers with mine. he smushes our lips together, the kiss entrancing the both of us as we become one through a sinful, yet so beautifully pleasurable act.

"you feel so good, [y/n]... dead or alive, this is the best pussy i've ever had in my life.. i never want to stop fucking you, baby.." xavier compliments me, giving me a wink as he raises himself back up. he keeps our hands together, thrusting himself inside as he lets out small moans, and continues to speak his sexual, dirty words to me.

he looks down at me, watching as my tits bounce with each one of his rapid, fast-paced movements. "how do you like this cock, sweetheart? so thick and long for you, hmm? you make me hurt with lust, babygirl. you make me want to cum deep inside you."

"please, xavier. please cum inside me.." i moan, nodding as i look up at him, my mouth hung open as he rocks my body in the bed. "that's all i want right now, for you to fill me up so good.. i need you so bad.. i need you to fill my pussy.. fuck.."

"and that i fucking shall." xavier pushes inside of me with one last deep thrust, filling my walls with his warm, thick seed. he pulls out, a small portion of white trailing from his head and to my pussy lips.

i sit up, panting as i pull myself off the bed, leaning down onto my weak, shaking knees. i place my lips on the tip, sucking the excess down my throat. he shivers at my touch, moving one hand to cup my cheek and insist i stand back up.

"maybe tomorrow night you can reward me with head, baby. you've got a big day soon." he pecks my lips, handing me the towel off the floor. "so why don't you go clean up, again, and i'll see you soon."

i smirk, nodding as i wrap the towel around my top. "xavier, please join me. maybe i'll wash your hair this time." i wink, watching him pull his boxers up.

he laughed, shaking his head. "i hate to reject the offer, sweetheart, but i need my beauty sleep, too. go get some sleep, because tomorrow night will be far longer than tonight's."

i turn around, my cheeks burning as i open the cabin door and shut it behind me, walking back to the showers. i couldn't believe i had just let a ghost fuck me, and that ghost being the xavier plympton. maybe i'd have to stick around camp meadow for longer than this week after all.

[ a/n - i did want to mention i will be writing much more in a few weeks - finals and college/work in general has been consuming a lot of my time lately, but i am hoping to find some inspiration for new fics soon! ]

[sukibenders]

consolation

FEATURING: percy jackson x reader

summary: y/n has been cooped up in their cabin for days, only leaving to attend breakfast and lunch at their siblings' insistence. it's not that they mean to, it's just that their art is doing anything but coming together as of late and it's making them doubt their abilities. good thing for them that their fantastic boyfriend is there to save the day!

contents: soft!percy, cute couple moments, possibly some angst in regards to self doubt but mainly fluff in the end, references to passing of time, worried!percy, gn!reader, no stated cabin or godly parent but mentions of siblings, percy referring to you as 'babe'

note" this is my first actual piece of written work on here, and it seemed fitting that it would be pjo related. I'm so nervous about it, so please be kind and give this some love! it's stated that the reader is in an art slump, and that's for the sake of the plot behind this so sorry to all those who aren't interested in the arts or things like that!

You would say that it wasn't a normal occurrence for you to compare yourself to others to anyone who asked, but you yourself knew that that simply wasn't true and, in this moment, were being proved wrong as you stared at the messy array of art supplies circling around you--from crumbled papers of failed sketches to messy rags layered with dried paint. While the mess was contained to your side of your cabin, you were sure that your siblings cautious of just how long that would last.

Your appearance faired no better. Your camp shirt was littered is paint marks from sloppy movements of your hands, the orange holding more life to it than the fresh canvas in front of you. Three had laid crestfallen along the floor, thrown down carelessly during fits of frustration after another failed attempt tallied in your mind. Just when you thought things where going to go smoothly, fate had other plans and took another direction. Maybe this was a sign of the Gods punishing you, but for what? You couldn't figure out.

The more you stared at the blank canvas, at the mess around you, the more dishearted you felt. Your mind wandered to a group of kids that you had seen at the arts and crafts center last week, some Apollo campers you had assumed, albeit bitterly, when your eyes fell on their stunning art pieces making it hard for you to look away. They were so beautiful and held your attention longer than you'd hope to admit outloud. You had desired to master a similar affect with your own piece. That did not seem likely.

"But they did it so perfectly," you muttered to yourself (more like growled), hands gripping your paint brush tightly to the point where you were sure that the wood would snap under the force. "I'm sure they didn't have to go through all this." Your brows furrowed and you were just about to give up when a familiar voice spoke up.

"Man, it looks like a hurricane rolled through here." You looked up and were met with a pair of sea green eyes, of which held a mirth to them that only increased tenfold when they landed on you. "Maybe I should take you to seek shelter, just to be safe."

This caused you to snort. "Haha, very funny. I know that, if ever in a hurricane, to simply call out your name and you'll be there to save me, won't you?"

"Always!" A toothy grin broke out over Percy's face and it was almost enough to draw you back from your creativity haze. But when your eyes drew back to the blank canvas, the sense of dismay returned. Subconsciously, your shoulders sagged in response, but you were none the wiser. Percy, however, being the attentive boyfriend that he was, took notice. "I take it things aren't going as planned?"

You shook your head. "That's an understatement. This is my third attempt so far, and I can't even put paint to the material. At least with the others I could say that."

Percy shifted forward, reaching for one of the lone canvases and studied it with interest. "This one is nice," he said honestly. "Why'd you stop?"

"Because it's bad." You answered simply.

But Percy didn't believe that. "No it's not, you're just being hard on yourself." Like always hung in the air, but it was moreso a thought of your own rather than Percy's himself. The inky haired boy gave you a brief once over, brows furrowed with tinges of worry. "When was the last time you took a break? Stepped outside for something other than going to the dining pavilion?"

You blinked for a moment, attention slightly divided between your boyfriend and the work before you. "Uh, I think it was like...yesterday, one of my siblings dragged me out to the strawberry field with them." Or, at least you thought it was yesterday.

But Percy shook his head. "That was Tuesday, babe, I asked one of your siblings. Today's Friday. We need to get you out of this cabin, doing something other than painting."

Slightly shocked by clarification, you body tensed at the thought of being pulled away from your workstation, especially so prematurely into your journey. If you stopped now, what was to say that you would ever finish? Or that this was possibly your last chance at recreating and if you left now, all that went down the drain.

"I can't." You sighed weakly, hurriedly drifting your eyes to your boyfriend, who you had just discovered, that you hadn't spent much time with at all during this week. "If I don't get this piece right now, I might never-"

Percy raised a brow in response of you cutting yourself off. "You might never what?"

With a frustrated and embarrassed sigh, you explained to him your dilemma and the set backs it had provided you, refraining from looking at him the whole time. A part of you had fear some sort of mockery or lack of understanding that conjured up a simple dismissal without actually helping. You had grown accustomed to that after a few occasions and, while you didn't believe Percy to be like, it still hovered in your mind.

To your surprise, though not really, a pair of strong arms wrapped around you so gently yet fiercely that you felted tethered and set free all the same. Your face subconsciously pressed into Percy's bicep and you inhaled his scent, feeling the burdens of the weight you had placed on yourself slowly slipping away one by one. Faint tears welled in your eyes, but he made no move to comment on them.

"I wished you'd came to me sooner, I could've helped you. While not with anything art related, because it would have ended poorly for the both of us, I could have been here to keep you company and show some support."

A small sound that was a mix between a cry and laugh bubbled from your throat. "I don't think I would have been much fun."

Percy snorted. "Please, we would've had the time of our lives here. You're siblings would have kicked me out and banished me from ever entering." While this drew another laugh from you, it wasn't hard to notice the seriousness enveloping the boy's tone. "I think you need a break, for real this time and with no objections."

"But-"

"This piece, can wait. You can't. So what if some other camper made a cool piece, that doesn't mean anything. It especially doesn't mean you're a bad artist just because you're having trouble recreating it." When you fell silent at his words, he rested his nose against your temple, breathing you in. "You're very talented, and that shouldn't be doubted."

A part of you wanted to argue, to say that he was only telling you that because you were dating, but the more you thought about doing anything other than laying in your boyfriend's arms, the more exhausted you felt. Maybe it was your sudden drop in weight, but Percy had maneuvered you around until you were far from the canvas that had been torturing you for hours and closer to your bed.

"Let's get you some rest, babe." He moved to lay you down when your hand reached out, stopping him. "Babe-"

"I got paint on your shirt." You said simply, eyeing how your, still paint riddled, fingers smeared over your boyfriend's tee from his abs to his side. You had been so wrapped up in savoring his embrace, that you had forgotten about your own mess clinging to your frame.

Rather than wallow in the new stain, Percy reached for a damp, less paint splattered cloth and held it to your face. "It's no big deal, but it will be if you get paint on your sheets. Let's get you cleaned up."

By the time he was finished, you were already dozing off no matter how much you tried to fight. Your body rocked and swayed softly, and the action only made Percy laugh even more. Resting you gently on to your bed, head braced against your pillow, the inky haired boy moved to stand when your hand latched around his wrist.

"Stay," You whispered, eyes hopefully. Even with how busy you made yourself, you had missed him deeply.

"I gotta clean up around here. Wouldn't want you to trip in this mess, now would you?"

This caused you to wave him off. "Ah, well you'll simply just have to take care of me again, which seems like a win if you think about it."

Percy chuckled. "Yeah, it does. And maybe I'm so inclined to be against it." He patted your side. "Move over, babe, I'm coming in."

You cheered softly, doing as told just enough for him to rest his frame an inch away from you before you practically melted into him, arms wrapped around his waist and face tucked under his chin. You could feel Percy's chest rumble in satisfaction before he followed a similar manner. The two of you laid like that for a few minutes before you whispered.

"I'm sorry for not spending time with you these last few days." You apologized. "I was just...so wrapped up in this project and my own thoughts that I lost track of time. It's no excuse, but-"

"It's all right," Percy cut in, shushing you softly as you tried to protest. He was in no mood for you to get worked up, especially over something that was so easily fixed and could be settled even further once you were rested. "I understand, and I'm not uupset. I missed you, for sure, but we'll find a way to spend time together later, once you've had a decent amount of sleep."

You nodded in agreement, a yawn pulling from your lips. "I propose a date, anywhere you'd like and we can do whatever you want. You deserve it."

"I don't think taking care of my partner necessarily guarantees a reward," Percy commented, watching with mirth as you sent an eye roll his way. "But I'll hold you to that deal later. Love you."

"Love you, too."

[gavisuntiedboot]

Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)

Part 6

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue

Warnings: Some subtle smut!! Dubious consent!!! Please don't read if you're uncomfortable with unclear consent. Crying during intimacy. Profanity!! Swearing!! Ferran and Martin!!!!!!!!!! ESP MARTIN!!! I'm sorry

Word Count: 11.0K

A/N: please be nice about this one. Is it fantastic? I personally don't think so. But the story needs to progress somehow. God I want to be asleep.

Also, I just want to say that I have taken some, ehem, artistic liberties with time and space in this story. Did you guys know that Real Sociedad is like 5 hours from Barcelona? I didn't. So I don't want to hear any "This is unrealistic because-" shhhh. I know there was a WC this year - I'm pretending there wasn't. I know the Ballon D'or ceremony is in October - surprise, now it's at the end of July. I know it doesn't make any sense for Martin to live next to Gavi because his club is based on the other side of Spain, but for this story, they're neighbors because I said so. Just live in imagination now and suspend your disbelief. Please and thank you <3

"You should start sleeping here."

You looked over your shoulder in confusion, still in the process of tying your shoes.

"What?"

You had never expected Martin to proposition you like this. For the first couple months of you relationship, he had been distant, kind of aloof, just happy to be there, but never exerting much effort into you. The relationship was, for lack of better terms, convenient. But something in him changed when you told him that you had been taking Gavi home. Suddenly, he was ready to become a doting boyfriend. He offered to drive you to work, to bring you lunch, to pick you up from games. If you declined these offers, then he was messaging you, sending you pictures, and he always, without fail, called you on your drive home. You had on multiple times asked him to stop this embarrassing behavior, but it had fallen on deaf ears. He would call you to tell you how much he missed you, how much he wanted to hold you, begging you to come over, all while Gavi squirmed uncomfortably in the passenger seat. Whenever you dropped Gavi off, you would get suggestive text messages, detailing all the things Martin wanted to do to you. Whenever you replied that you weren't in the mood, that you would rather just cuddle and go to bed, you always got the same response:

[Martin]: maybe u should just go home then. come over when ur not tired.

You had now driven Gavi home for 15 days, and Martin was getting stranger and stranger with each passing day. And now, he had gone from seeing you maybe once a week to wanting you to spend the night? You knew jealousy when you saw it, and it was getting on your nerves.

"You drive little Gavi home every day, and then you have to go all the way back to your place. I care about you so much, and I don't want you driving that late at night. So when you leave late, like on match days, you should just spend the night here."

You stood up, moving to grab your coat. You liked Martin, you liked spending time with him, but the idea of spending the night at his place weekly made your stomach uneasy, and you were hit with a wave of nausea.

"I don't know Martin. It's a really sweet offer, but I have a lot of things at my house. It would be a hassle to store scrubs and toiletries and makeup here, and-"

He held his hands up in an 'I surrender' motion, cutting you off.

"Listen, Barca has a game at home this week, don't they? Spend the night here after - try it out. If you don't like it, you can stop." He said, looking at you expectantly. A knot formed in your throat. You wanted to protest, but didn't know how. Martin liked you and put up with you. He was nice to you and was now offering to take your relationship to the next level. So how could you tell him that the idea made you want to throw up?

"Um, yeah, sure. I can do that. I... I need to go now. I'll see you in a few days?"

"Drive safe, baby. I'll text you when I get back from Madrid." He stood from his seat, walking over to you and pulling you into him, placing a deep kiss onto your lips. You returned the sentiment, trying as much as possible to rekindle the spark you felt for Martin when you first met. It was now a dying ember, but one you were desperately trying to keep alive. As weird as he made you feel at times, anything was better than the days when you were alone, sleeping in a cold bed with only the company of the TV and your house plants.

You closed Martin's front door, walking to your car quickly to avoid the bitter winter chill. As soon as you shut the driver door, you pulled up your contacts, looking for Angelika. If you were honest, Martin's overbearing nature had been causing you extreme bouts of anxiety, preventing you from sleeping, causing you to bite your nails bloody whenever the thought of him saying the L word ever crossed your mind. Would you say it back?

You called Angelika, the dial tone ringing throughout your car as you started to drive. After about 4 rings, the line connected.

"Hey, what's up?" She asked, rushed and out of breath, a hint of irritation in her tone.

"Nothing much," you replied, thrown off by the harsh answer. "Are you okay? You sound annoyed."

"I am annoyed. Our model casting director is so fucking incompetent that he thought he could book models for fucking fashion week the week before. So now, all the girls we usually work with and have the measurements for are booked. Taken by Balenciaga and fucking Paco Rabbane."

"I didn't know Balenciaga still showed at Barcelona fashion week." You replied, deciding to park your car on a side street. You slumped back in your seat.

"They don't. Our equally as incompetent head designer failed to mention we had been invited to show in Paris. So now we have no models, no measurements, and we are showing at Paris Fashion Week. I've been sleeping on the couch in the studio all week remaking and altering garments."

"But it's only November. You don't show in Paris until the end of February."

"You think any of the idiots that work above me are going to work from December 15th until January 15th? I need to get everything approved to be part of the collection before they go on vacation or I'm fucked."

"I'm so sorry Ang," you said softly, frowning slightly at your phone. You resonated with her pain - it was soul-crushing to put your best efforts forward and have it hindered by others more powerful than you. You knew how hard she had worked, and how much of a dream PFW had been - now it was becoming a borderline nightmare.

"It's fine, I'll get through it. Did you call for something? Or just a check-in?" She asked, her voice muffled slightly by the whir of the sewing machine. You brought your nails back to your lips, biting down on the surrounding skin.

"Just checking in," you lied, swallowing back your own frustrations, "I hadn't heard from you in a while, so I wanted to make sure you're okay. We should catch up when everything cools down, yeah?" You spoke softly, scared that if you raised your voice any higher you would cry. You felt like you were drowning, overwhelmed by everything going on in your life, crushed by the thousand feelings going on at once, but that was your burden - not Angelika's. You would deal with it by yourself like you usually did.

You exchanged goodbyes with your friend, hanging up the line and then slamming your head into the steering wheel, not caring about the potential bruise that could be forming as a result. The tears were flowing freely now. Your breath was ragged, coming out in short sobs and hiccups as you let out your frustration. The more you thought about the last two weeks, the more it felt like your throat was closing up. Your vision was completely blurry, your knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

Your memories went back to that God forsaken meeting. The one that followed the last home game at Camp Nou, after Ferran had proclaimed rather loudly that you were creating an uncomfortable situation in the locker room. You had arrived at work at 7:15 that day, unable to sleep the night before, spending over an hour in the shower trying to was Martin's grabby touch off your skin, and staring at the ceiling in fear of your reprimanding. You had looked perfect - hair pulled back, uniform scrubs and shoes immaculately clean. You were expecting to be called into Dr. Gonzalez's office some time around 10am, after the players had already began morning training. Rather, you received a sharp knock on your office door at 7:45. Dr. Gonzalez stood there, stoic as usual, and uttered the most terrifying sentence you had heard in recent memory.

"Mister Xavi wants to see you in his office."

You walked behind him like your legs were made of lead. Several of the players greeted you as they passed, but you returned none of it. Your head was swimming in fear - how bad was it that you needed to be in Xavi's office before morning training. As you knocked on the office door, your mouth had gone dry, and you were shaking like a leaf.

"Enter."

Gavi watched your face pale as you entered the room escorted by Dr. G, and he felt a pit form at the base of his stomach. He knew it wasn't necessarily a positive thing for Ferran to have complained about you, but he never thought that the repercussions would be this severe. A meeting in Xavi's office before morning training often meant a firing. He was frozen in place, unmoving long after the office door had shut, the shove from Pedri being the only thing to make his feet move forward.

You and Dr. Gonzalez were instructed to sit in front of Xavi, one of the assistant coaches leaning on the wall behind him. The crossed hands and deep silence sent a chill through you that you couldn't shake from your bones. You had never been in a position like this before: you were the good kid. The kid who never went to speak to the principal unless it was to receive an award. You had been the perfect teacher's pet, who got along with every authority figure you ever encountered. But now, the face of deep disappointment staring at you was one that you had never encountered before.

"Ms. L/N, I believe you understand why you are in here, but I will explain it plainly. I heard that yesterday before the game, there was a situation in which you were escorted from the locker room because o the complaints of a player. I have spoken with this player, and he has informed me that this is not the first time you have made him uncomfortable. In fact, he attributes his worsening performance to discomfort that you have caused."

Your face was pale. You were holding back tears and vomit. You tried to slow your breathing and heart rate, because the last thing you needed was to have an anxiety attack.

"Obviously, this is not a good look. You are a new hire, and we cannot have the auxiliary staff impacting the players. The assistance coaches, Dr. Gonzalez and I all had an extensive conversation about terminating your program contract."

Your heart beat was in your ears, the bile rising in your throat, suffocating you slowly. This was your dream job, in your hands, and it was quickly slipping through your finger tips because one of the players couldn't stand you refusing to sleep with him. The tears were flowing at this point - it was beyond your control. Everything you had every worked for was disappearing before your very eyes.

"However, Dr. Gonzalez and assistant coach Marco here advised me against it. They instructed me to speak to several players, all who had nothing but glowing praise to say about you. Balde said that he would refuse to play if anything were to happen to your job. So, we have decided to keep you here with us. However, we wanted to take this as an opportunity to remind you: players are the priority. You'll be out of the locker room until further notice. If we get any further complaints about you calling issues, we'll have to consider other people. And your pre-work sessions with Gavi? Those will have to stop. Favoritism doesn't contribute to a positive work environment."

You nodded, tears burning your skin as you tried to maintain some semblance of composure in front of the man keeping your job safe. Dr. Gonzalez stood to leave, and you followed him silently. Xavi called to you before you left his office.

"It's your good work that kept you here. But it won't be enough to keep you here."

You slammed your head against the steering wheel again. What else could you do besides be a had worker? The fact that you could no longer meet with Gavi early in the morning also burned a hole in your very being. Though it would never be admitted out loud, it was the only time you felt like you were genuinely needed. A throbbing pain radiated around your head, blurring your vision further and making it even more difficult to see. Your sobs were loud and desperate, the only way air was entering your lungs.

A sudden knock on your window startled you, causing you to turn in fear towards your left. Through teas, you stared at the figure of a man knocking on the window, saying something to you, but the sound was drowned out.

"Get away from me! Leave me alone! Help!"

You screamed at the top of your lungs. You were fully panicked, as the door began to open, you screamed even louder, kicking at the door and the person on the other side.

"What the fuck, Doctora! Stop screaming and stop kicking me!"

The familiar voice made you stop your movements. The blur from your eyes was rubbed away, and Gavi stood before you, a trash bag in one hand and his phone in the other, speaking inaudibly. The sight of a person had never brought you this much intense relief. Instantly, you were more calm, breathing slowing enough for you to hear what he was saying.

"-not safe out here at this time. Are you even listening to me?"

The glow of street lamp light made Gavi look like an angel. His brown locks were shrouded in a golden haze, light eyes piercing into you. Jaw hanging slack, you just stared back at him, face still burning from the salt water on your cheeks. You bit your lip, staring up with still watery eyes, body shivering from all the energy exerted. The fatigue was settling deep in your bones, and you were sure that you looked like a frightened child. Gavi instructed you to stay put, running to throw his trash away before returning to you.

"Doctora, you should come inside."

It wasn't a question. Gavi was leaning over you, turning off your car and taking the keys. A hand reached out before you, gently and waiting for you to accept the invitation and follow him inwards. You looked up at him, the look of concern foreign on his face. Gavi had never seemed this seriously worried or scared before. You gathered your strength, placing your delicate hand in Pablo's. He gripped you firmly, tugging gently to escort you out of the car. Once it was locked, he turned to you again. There was a tension between the two of you that no one could pinpoint. Your heart was hammering against your ribs, so loud you were sure Gavi could feel the thrum through the skin of your palm. Maybe you should have stayed at Martin's. But something in you whispered that you were so, so happy to be standing here with Gavi.

Moving on their own accord, you pulled your hand away, and your arms wrapped around Gavi, embracing him tightly. The boy tensed, not expecting the sudden display of affection. He stood there for a moment as you clung to him, arms shaking, breath slowing down as he held you. As you calmed, Gavi's heart rate increased steadily. As your friendship continued to grow, the two of you had become more comfortable with things such as fist bumps. But this was entirely new. He brought his arms up and pulled you into him, biceps enveloping you, and chest providing you comfort. As your head rested against the soft fabric of his sweatshirt, you took a deep breath, smelling in the scent of Gavi, showered and faintly fragranced after practice.

You had scared Pablo half to death. All he wanted to do was sit and relax. He had seen you before you went into Xavi's office, face looking like you had seen a ghost. He had worried about you all practice. Normally you were glowing: smiling at everyone in the early morning as you sipped your coffee and finished the notes. Sometimes you even danced through Camp Nou, playlist keeping yo hyped despite the early hours. But recently, it felt like Pablo was watching you wither away. You smiled less, you came in with darker circles, and you looked like you were consistently on the verge of tears. He wanted to blame Martin, but he knew that working with the team played a big part of it.

After Ferran's complaint, he had run to the assistant coaches, trying to figure out what the repercussions could be. He was frazzled in practice, wondering if he and the boys had done enough to prevent you losing your position. Gavi became more aggressive. He starting losing his footing more, slipping and falling more frequently, and pushing the boundaries with his teammates. So what if he broke Ferran's kneecap? It's not like he would be debilitating a phenomenal contributor to the team. Lewy spoke to him multiple times, telling him to take it easy, because the aggression did nothing but make him look bad. Pedri told him that hurting Ferran would not erase his complaint against you. But it didn't matter. Gavi still pushed.

This was the first time he had seen you since you walked into Xavi's office. You had sent him a text telling him to find other arrangements for getting home for the next couple of days. This led to some embarrassing shots of him leaving Camp Nou in a taxi, and Pedri took pity on him, driving him home the following day. All his check-up texts had gotten curt responses, and he felt an ache in his chest that he didn't understand. Ever since his little self-love session, he had slowly but surely come to the realization that he wanted to be more than just friends with you. He had tried to keep this information to himself. Gavi knew what his friends would say: he was just being horny and 18, falling for the first girl that had given him a little attention. But he knew that wasn't the case.

Gavi had been around girls. Growing up, his sister's friends talked to him like a little pet. They let him hang around, allowing him to get closer to a lot of the prettiest girls in the town. The older he got, the easier it was to get girls. I'm in La Masia, I'm on the Barca B team, I play with Pedri. Now it was easier than ever. Models, actresses, singers, and other pretty girls threw themselves at his feet, in person and through DMs. There were hundreds of women willing to give him attention. But you? Oh. You were someone he wanted to chase. Someone who made him excited to wake up in the morning, someone that made electricity dance across his skin every time you touched him. You were ambitious and confident and determined. He didn't just like you. He respected you. He desired you. He craved you.

It had been no easy thing confessing this to Pedri. Gavi looked at his loosened laces the entire time, avoiding Pedri's smirk. He had known for literal months that Pablo wanted you. It was obvious to anyone who had seen the two of you interact. He told Pablo as much, making the younger boy blush and cross his arms over his chest. After the teasing had died down, the serious talk began.

"You can't do anything until she doesn't have a boyfriend anymore."

Gavi had texted you that night about meeting him for an early morning session, inventing a new slew of muscle discomforts.

[Doctora]: Can't do before work meetings anymore. Xavi's orders. Come in at 8am exactly if you're in pain.

To say he was crushed was an understatement. Over the past two weeks that you had been driving him, he had gotten closer to you. He learned about your favorite things to cook, about your relationship with your parents, and about what high school was like for you. He has learned that you frequently stopped at the drive-thru to get a post-practice hot tea and a muffin. He found out that you had given up drinking for good. Over two weeks he had watched the string connecting the two of you grow brighter. Now it was being snipped before his very eyes. It felt like he was losing you.

"Let me know if our little nurse likes fucking in the front or back seat more, Pablito. So I know whether to pick her up from Martin's in the two-seater or the SUV. He said he'd be willing to share with me when she finally gives it up. He'd probably let you get a slice of that ass as well."

Ferran couldn't react before he was slammed up against the locker. The sound reverberated around the room, alerting the two or three other boys who were also slow to change after training. Gavi's forearm was pressed into Ferran's throat, making the older boy go pink in the face and claw at his arm for air.

"If you say one more nasty thing about her, as God is my witness, I will dislocate both of your hips from their sockets regardless of who is watching. I will kick you in the teeth so fucking hard your grandchildren will need extensive dental work. Now shut the fuck up, get changed, and go home and jerk off to your own Instagram selfies."

Now he was standing under the street lamp beside his house holding you in his arms. The string was stronger and brighter than ever, wrapped around the two of you. Seeing you slam your head against the steering wheel concerned him, and having you kick and scream at him made you think you were at the end of your rope, terrifying him. Now he brought you closer to his heart, clutching your shaking frame, breathing in your shampoo and the relief that you were okay. He didn't know if he was capable of letting you go. He swallowed the large knot forming in his throat.

"Did... did you come here to see me?"

You looked up at Gavi, arms still around him, albeit shaking.

"I..." You weren't sure what to say. "I just left Martin's house. I was feeling overwhelmed and I just ... started driving. Guess it was muscle memory that brought me here."

You watched an unknown emotion fill Gavi's eyes. Was he annoyed that you came to his street? The closeness of your bodies registered in your brain, and you took a step back, looking awkwardly at your feet. No matter how comfortable he made you feel, there was a line you shouldn't cross. Not only were you two coworkers, but you had a boyfriend who you knew would not be happy if he ever found out about this "under the street light" 40's movie embrace.

"I should probably go home. Um, sorry to bother you."

"No wait-" Gavi said, grasping your arm once more. He stopped you in your tracks, keeping a firm hold on you. He couldn't let you leave. Not now. Not while you were like this.

"You're obviously distressed. I don't want you to drive home right now."

You shook your head, but made no effort to remove his hand from you.

"No no, I'm fine. I should really-"

Gavi shook his head viscously.

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

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

"Leave my house. Just come inside."

His hand traveled from your bicep to your hand, holding it and tugging you behind him towards the house. You followed him silently, allowing yourself to be pulled into Gavi's orbit. The dim lighting of the house and the sounds from the TV made you feel more at peace. Despite it being a bachelor pad, you felt like you were walking into a home.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." You said softly as you moved to slip off your shoes, stopping mid way. Gavi turned around, raining an eyebrow at you bent over in contemplation as he kicked off his Nikes. Your eyes widened in awe.

"You take your shoes off inside?"

"Yeah? Why wouldn't I?"

"Martin told me I was weird for taking off my shoes indoors. He said it's not a thing in Spain."

Gavi barked out a dry laugh, walking to his kitchen and switching on the lights.

"So it's a Spanish thing to track mud and dirt into the house? Take off your shoes, Doctora. Make yourself at home."

You smiled to yourself, brushing your hair behind your ear and unlacing your shoes. You watch Gavi pick up a shaker bottle, hopping onto the counter and and taking a sip. It was your turned to be confused.

"A protein shake? At this hour?"

"Yeah. It's my dinner. Want one?"

"Pablo!" The disbelief was evident on your face and in your voice. You had been working with the nutritionists recently to revise the daily calorie intake for all the players. Gavi needed about 4000 a day. There was no way he was drinking all of them in shakes.

"You need to have a proper dinner! No wonder you're always blowing your muscles out. Where is the dietary fiber? Where are the fats? Do you even have food in the fridge?"

He takes another swig of his protein shake, hopping off the counter. You open the fridge, scanning the shelves. He stands behind you, His chest mere inches from your back.

"Yeah, someone drops groceries off every couple of weeks, but I'm a shit cook. But if you want something for dinner, I can try. Wouldn't want you to go hungry."

You turn to face gave, your faces close enough to feel each others' breath. It was ironic that at this time, a thought crossed your mind: Martin, despite bragging about his cooking skills extensively, had never even fried you an egg.

"I'm a pretty good cook. Want to eat something other than protein powder this evening?"

Gavi looked into your eyes, noticing the redness that lingered from crying. He nodded his head slowly, then looked at your forehead. There was a red spot that had formed with a slight bump from where you hit the wheel. He brought one hand up, caressing the spot with his thumb. It sent a shock through your system. Why was Gavi's touch having such an effect on you?

You spent the next half and hour cooking, with Gavi sitting on the counter, making idle conversation. He loved watching the way you moved, the way that your eyes narrowed in concentration. When you were finished, you picked up both the plates and moved in front of the TV. He followed you like a puppy, watching as you sat on the couch with your feet beneath you. You rubbed your arms together, trying to create some sort of warmth. The exhaustion of working and cooking (with a breakdown in the middle) had set in, causing a chill to wash over you. As he moved to take a bite of the arroz con pollo that you had cooked up, he looked over at you, watching you shiver slightly.

Your eyes followed Gavi as he put the plate down, running to his bedroom, re-emerging with a black hoodie.

"Here, put this on. I don't want you freezing in my home."

You took the garment from him and looked at it. The material was soft in your hands, the smell of Gavi making its way to you. You slipped it over your head, feeling warmth instantly, both internally and externally. It wasn't much - just a hoodie. Any decent friend would have given you one in the cold. But it was more than that. It was that Gavi wanted you to be safe and fed and warm. It was that he was always looking over at you, noticing things without you asking. Maybe this was close friendship, something you were lacking at the present moment. But something felt different. None of your other friends made you feel this way. You never felt a longing to see them like you did with Gavi. You never felt a hold in your chest and an emptiness in your life when they weren't around. So what was it about Gavi.

The two of you ate in silence, watching the show that Gavi had playing on the TV. It was an old Spanish telenovela, something from the early 90s, where a girl from the farmlands moves to the city, and she is caught in a love triangle between her childhood friend and the CEO of a major company in the city.

"Is this show not a little... feminine for you?"

Gavi rolled his eyes at your teasing. "It's the only thing on when I'm home. It's so predictable that it doesn't matter if I miss an episode, because I already basically know the whole show plot."

"Oh really mister psychic? What's going to happen in the show then?"

You placed your plate on the coffee table, leaning back onto the couch, pulling Gavi's hoodie tighter around you. He grabbed a blanket from beside him, draping it over the two of you.

"She thinks that she's not good enough for Xavier, the CEO, so she's going to go back to farm boy Matthias and be with him. But she's going to realize that she's not happy with Matthias because he wants her to be this woman that she's not. So she's going to run from the farm back into Xavier's arms and kiss him, telling him that he accepts her for who she really is."

Your jaw dropped slightly, looking at Gavi in awe. You had never seen a teenage boy so invested in a TV romance. He looked over at you, suddenly shy under your gaze.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because... how do you know that's what's going to happen?"

"Besides the fact that this telenovela has been out for like 20 years and it's cliche as fuck? Because it's obvious. Matthias keeps making all these little comments and asking Dorinda to change all these things about herself. A relationship can never survive if they don't like you for you, ya know?"

You muttered out a slight 'mhm' before pulling the blanket higher up and turning back to the TV. Gavi sat back as well, and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, you curled up in a ball, him with his arms draped over the back of the couch, distance just big enough between the two of you to be respectful. As you waited for the next episode to begin, Gavi shifted to look at you.

"So... are we going to talk about the breakdown you had in your car? Or we can pretend it never happened. That also works."

You looked at Gavi, who stared at you with genuine concern and sympathy. His features were soft, eyes scanning you with concern.

"I don't want to burden you with my woes, Pablo. I was just having a moment. I'll get over it eventually."

"You could never be a burden, doctora. Now that we're friends, we get to talk to each other about stuff besides my tight hamstrings. What's going on? You've been... different lately. Ever since your meeting with Xavi."

Gavi watched you bite your lip, fiddling with your fingers in your lap. You took a deep breath before recounting what occurred during the meeting. You watched Gavi grow more and more angry, the heat radiating from his body.

"I just..." The tightness in your chest was so overwhelming. You were done holding back everything you had been feeling. You look up at Gavi, eyes wide and desperate and watery.

"I have been told my whole life that I had to work hard and I would get what I wanted. Just study hard in school and do well in university and do your job well and you'll get everything you dreamed of. But it's not true. I worked my ass off in school and university, and still they only wanted me to intern with the women's teams. I kill myself at this job every day, balancing this with my schoolwork to get my license, and do I get any recognition? No. I get mocked and harassed. I get called a nurse. And my boyfriend..."

You trailed off, and Gavi waited for you to continue. He didn't want any of this to weigh on you any longer. With a sigh you kept going.

"My boyfriend is telling me I'm delusional for being upset. On the rare occasions that he lets me complain to him, he tells me it's my fault. My scrubs are too tight, so Ferran has every right to grab my ass."

"Wait, he's been touching you? I'm going to kill him."

Gavi made a move to get up, but you leaned over, crossing your arm across his chest and keeping him seated.

"You don't have to protect me Gavi. I can handle it."

"How? How can you handle it? One word from fucking Ferran almost got you fired! How are you supposed to get him to stop groping you. And more importantly, why is that your job? You have a man in your life who is supposed to protect you and make sure no harm comes to you. But your sorry sack of shit boyfriend is too busy sucking Ferran's microdick to take care of his girl." He said, face red as he leaned back on the couch with his arms crossed over his chest.

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

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

You couldn't say anything. No one had ever spoken to you the way Pablo did. No one - not your family, not your friends, not your boyfriend - had ever taken the time to remind you that you were worth of love. The warmth in your chest you had felt all night started spreading through your veins, making its way through your whole body. You felt safe. You didn't trust yourself to speak, so you got up from your seat on the couch and walked to Pablo, leaning over and hugging him. This time he reacted much quicker, welcoming the embrace, rubbing your back softly. You separated and sat next to him again, this time much closer. Close enough for him to pull you into his side if he wanted. His left arm erupted in goosebumps as he resisted the urge.

The silence remained comfortable as you two watched the telenovela, four or five inches all that separated Gavi from your touch. As the night dragged on, your eyelids felt heavier, and your blinks got longer as sleep overtook you. You didn't even feel it when you dozed off, your body slumping sideways. But Gavi felt it as you fell onto his shoulder, breathing deeply. He spoke your name quietly, gaging your consciousness. When you didn't respond, he made a move to look at you, but your soft groan made him sit back. You were asleep on his shoulder.

The weight on his shoulder felt like nothing as he watched you sleep. The TV light was illuminating your features, bathing you in a soft ethereal light. Your hair fell in front of your face, and he moved it gently out of your way to make sure you weren't bothered in your sleep. You snuggled deeper into him, and in doing so, resting your head by his neck. Gavi tried to breathe softly, his whole body tense as to not disturb your sleep.

He tried to convince himself all week that you were just hot. You were just good looking and he wanted you physically - nothing more. But he couldn't because when the thought of you, it was rarely in a sexual manner. He was always imagining situations like this: you cooking with him, cuddling with him on the couch while watching TV, taking naps with him. He was imagining the domestic bliss that all his teammates gushed about. He was imagining waking up to you in the morning and kissing the sleep from your eyes. He dreamed of brushing his teeth beside you as you both messed around before bed. He wanted to look by the stands and point to you, letting you and the whole world know that everything, all of it, it was all for you.

An hour later, when he was sure you were asleep, Gavi tried to shift you slightly. His shoulder began to ache, and he wanted you to get a decent night's sleep. He lifted your head gently, but you stirred in your sleep.

"Pablo... are you leaving?" You mutter, eyes still closed.

His heart felt like it could burst. You looked so small and innocent, so helpless, that Gavi wanted to pick you up in his arms and protect you from the entire world. He never wanted to let anything or anyone, not Ferran or Martin or even Xavi, come near you again.

"Of course not, doctora. I'll always be here for you."

You groaned again before laying down, this time draping yourself across Gavi's lap and cuddling into his thigh. Gavi surrendered, understanding that he would be sleeping on the couch with you on his lap, because in all honesty, it was the only place on Earth that he wanted to be. He set an alarm for 5:30am, and then laid back, one hand rubbing your back as he prepared to dream about you.

You woke to the sound of a phone alarm. The warmth all around you was inviting you to stay asleep, but you opened your eyes nonetheless, coming face to face with a pair of Barca shorts. You shot straight up, looking at Gavi, who was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Good morning."

You opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water. You had fallen asleep in Gavi's house. In Gavi's clothes. On Gavi's lap.

"I have to go. I'll see you at work."

You grabbed your phone and keys and ran for the door, not even waiting for his response. You drove to your house, going to jump in the shower to reset before work. This had happened before. You had slept next to Martin, coming home the next day and scrubbing your skin off in the shower, wanting to rid yourself of the night before. But as you looked down to strip, you saw Gavi's black hoodie, which you had been too rushed to give back, and you didn't want to take it off. It felt like warmth and safety and something else that you couldn't name. But you removed the garment carefully, folding it on your bed, and treating your skin gently, like a thing to be preserved.

~~~

You wore Gavi's hoodie for the rest of the week. You put it on before you left the house, and left it in your car before walking into work. You put it on once again when you got back to the car. Gavi mocked you for it on the first day, teasing about how you couldn't live without him. You just looked away in embarrassment, unable to admit that, now that your morning sessions were gone, wearing his hoodie on your drives made you feel connected to him in a different way. It secretly made Gavi swell with pride. It scratched the possessive part of his brain, the one that wanted you to just be his. You always made sure to hide it before driving over to Martin's. You had been bickering more recently, and you didn't want to do anything else to set him off, because you knew he would never even attempt to understand that you wearing Gavi's clothes wasn't a romantic gesture.

It was match day at Camp Nou, which usually brought you excitement, but not today. No, today was the fated day that you would have to choose between your team and your boyfriend: It was Barca vs Real Sociedad day. You had been anxious since the previous evening, wondering how it would be for Martin and Gavi to be on the field together after their falling out many weeks ago. The nerves had shaken you so much that your (Gavi's) black player hoodie remained on. You ran around all morning, doing muscle and flexibility tests, and setting up your station on the side of the field. As the players lined up in the tunnel, you walked through, making sure that everyone was taken care of. You approached the front where Gavi stood, but before you could say anything to him, a voice called out to you.

"Baby! What're you doing in the tunnel? Shouldn't you be in a clinic somewhere?"

Despite him trying to put on a cute tone, you couldn't help but be offended by Martin's words. He was essentially calling you a nurse once again, this time in front of two major La Liga teams. The snickers were not lost to you. You turned around and smiled softly at Martin, greeting him. He tried to pull you in for a kiss, but you flinched away.

"Martin, not here, carino. I'm at work." You tried to leave, but he grabs your wrist, stopping you. His fingers dug into your wrist, causing pain to shoot through your arm. You turned to look at him, unable to tug your arm away.

"Not going to wish me good luck, sexy? Maybe after watching them practice you don't think I need it."

"He who talks shit first, eats shit first." Gavi's voice said behind you. You leaned into Martin, giving him a kiss on the cheek, and wishing him good luck. He pulls on your hoodie, which you had forgotten you were wearing until it's between his fingers.

"What's this? Isn't this for players? Why are you wearing this?" He asked, eyes dark with anger. He looked at the pocket and noticed the '6' embroidered into the fabric.

"Oh, they had a few made for the staff as well. I need to go and set up by the field." You scurried away from Martin, trying to avoid the stares of everyone around you. You needed to focus on doing your job, not on your relationship drama.

Despite your exit, drama was still bubbling in the tunnel. Martin and Ferran stood next to each other, talking rather loudly to Gavi's dismay. They recapped their boring and alcohol-fueled lives, and Gavi tried to tune them out, getting in the headspace for the game, until they mentioned you.

"You hit yet? Come on, hermano. She sleeps next to you all the time. What are you waiting for?"

"I'm trying. I think I'm going to seal it tonight - no matter what I have to do. She doesn't do booze anymore, so it's been harder than usual. If we win tonight, it's going to be the icing on the cake."

Gavi felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face Pedri, who looked at him disapprovingly.

"Whatever you do, don't get a fucking red. We play Madrid soon."

The game began, and it was rough from the first whistle. Sociedad was playing extremely rough, getting 17 fouls in the first half alone. They were not being merciful in the slightest. Martin and Gavi were on each other on the front left wing, slamming into each other at every opportunity. You rushed on the field for a few head collisions, but otherwise, you spent the game on the sidelines. In the 78th minute, the score was 1-0 to Barca, and they were about to take a corner kick. Martin was on Gavi, with Ferran occupying close space in the box.

"Get out of the way Pablito, the big boys are playing." Martin taunted in his ear. Gavi shrugged off the comment, tracking the movements of Frenkie, who was about to take the kick. That was until he felt himself be shoved in the neck. He turned to Martin, who was staring at him smugly, before shoving him back. Hard. Sociedad and Barca players start to crowd around the two, who are up in each other's faces, inches away from blows. The teams are trying to hold their star players back.

"What the fuck is your problem, cabron? Can't score a fucking goal, so now you want to wrestle?"

Martin breaks free from his teammates, grabbing Gavi by the neck. Ferran watches the two, not interfering as the referee ran towards them, blowing his whistle like crazy. You watch from the sideline, biting your nails to the beds.

"I want you to fuck off and stop eye-fucking my girlfriend. She won't touch your baby dick, Pablito."

The ref is the one to pull Martin off Gavi's neck, presenting him with a red card and sending him off.

"I'm never going to hit you on the field Zubimendi. So you better avoid me when we're not on grass, because I'll knock your fucking teeth out."

Gavi turned to Ferran, who was still watching the interaction. "You've got no fucking loyalty, Torres. And it will bite you in the ass one day. Soon."

~~~

Your drive home with Martin was silent. You didn't know what to say to him. You were terrified to utter Gavi's name, because you knew it would open up the topic of the hoodie again, and you weren't ready to be yelled at. At the end of the game, you kissed Martin on the cheek. You looked past him and saw Gavi, celebrating with the rest of the boys with faint bruises on his neck. You wanted to run over and apologize, but you couldn't, because the man you should be caring about was dragging you off the field.

You unpack your things from your car as Martin walks into the house, not bothering to wait for you. He is eager to get in the shower and wash away the humiliating 3-0 loss he just suffered at the hands of his 'enemy' Gavi no less. You entered the house, staring at the cold, eggshell walls with posters of Martin hanging on them, and a chill ran down your spine. There was something hostile and uninviting about the house. You always wanted to run away, like it was haunted by the spirit of something pushing you out. You changed your clothes, sitting in bed and waiting for Martin to join you. Scrolling through Instagram, you liked all the victory posts on your feed, wanting to support your team, even if you were sleeping with the enemy.

[Gavi]: Hey

[Gavi]: I saw u leave w martin ... hope ur ok

[Gavi]: sorry about fighting on the field

You smiled as you opened the messages from Gavi. Despite their fight, he was still putting aside his hatred of the man to make sure you were okay. Before you could answer, the bathroom door opened, causing you to hastily lock your phone and throw it to the bedside table.

[Doctora]: Read - 11:07pm

Martin approached you in just his towel, still slightly damp. He opened the drawer next to you, pulling out a travel shot of Fireball and throwing it back quickly. He then got on the bed, moving to straddle you, trapping you under his body weight.

"Bonita... you know we've been dating for months now and you still haven't asked me to fuck you?" He said, voice low and sultry. You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. You looked up at him through long lashes.

"I have to ask for you to fuck me? I thought you would be the one to ask if you wanted to do it."

"You don't want to baby?"

You were unsure how to reply. You had never looked at Martin and had the carnal urge to strip him down and have him take you, but sex was supposed to be a normal part of relationships. Maybe you had been unfairly denying Martin of essentially his right.

"I'm... too shy to ask for something like that."

Martin grinned from ear to ear. He licked his lips, bending down and capturing yours in a wet kiss. He was rough and fast, not wanting to waste any time. He tore off the blankets that surrounded you, slowly unbuttoning your shirt. This was the farthest the two of you had gone. He allowed his towel to drop, leaning back to let you admire his already hard cock. You looked at it for a moment before remembering that you should be impressed. You widened your eyes and parted your lips, making a comment about how big it was, and you watched him throb. He stripped you out of the rest of your clothes, kissing your skin roughly. You reciprocated, closing your eyes and sucking on his neck. He moved away, grabbing your chin.

"No markings, baby. You know better."

Gavi sat on his couch at home, TV playing in the background as he stared at the dent beside him. Your imprint was there, although faint. He thought back to that night - the closeness he felt to you, both physically and emotionally. He knew he should have kissed you, confessed his feelings, told you to forget Martin ever existed and be happy with a Barca boyfriend. But he couldn't. He couldn't form the words to tell you that you were the very light that brightened his days, and the cool breeze that soothed him to sleep. He couldn't tell you that every moment he wasn't focused on a ball, he was thinking about you. About the way you laughed and spoke and moved. About the curve of your lips he was desperate to trace with the tip of his tongue. About the way your hair felt beneath his fingertips as he played with it while you slept. He couldn't do it. So he stared at your spot on the couch, glancing over at his phone regularly, waiting for the 'Read' to turn into three typing dots that turned into a little gray bubble filled with your words to him. Just for him.

You lay before Martin completely naked, eyes glued shut. You tried to focus on the feeling more than the person. You let our little moans when he kissed your breasts, trying to encourage him as much as possible so that he would go faster and be done quicker. You heard the sound of a wrapper ripping, and he rolled it on while speaking to you.

"Ready baby?" "Yeah, I think so."

He slipped inside you quickly, groaning into your neck about how warm and tight you were. You kept your eyes shut. You had flashbacks to the couch in the basement. The tears started to prick and burn at your eyes, and you let one fall. He licked it off of you, laughing in satisfaction.

"Is this cock too much for you baby? You crying cause I'm too big? Fuck that's so hot." He said, as he continued thrusting in with no pace or rhythm. You brought your legs up around him, pushing him closer to you, hoping to make him bust quick so that you could go to bed. With eyes still shut, you saw someone else. You saw hazel eyes shining in artificial yellow light, and you clenched around your boyfriend.

"Ugh yeah baby just like that."

The eyes were now replaced by lips, soft and pink, separating into the most captivating smile.

"I'm close baby, so close."

You wished Martin was one of those men who was silent in bed. You wanted to shush him, tell him that the sexy lips in your imagination were about to speak, but you just continued rocking your hips to the makeshift rhythm. The lips parted, a tongue poking out to wet them, before they spoke to you.

"Doctora."

You clenched hard around your boyfriend, pressing him deep inside you, and that was it. He let out a high pitched groan as he came into the condom. He collapsed on top of you, and you allowed your eyes to open, another tear falling, which was quickly wiped away by Martin.

"That was great, baby. Totally worth the wait. Never knew it could be so hot watching you cry."

He rolled off of you and went to sleep, but you were wide awake.

[Doctora]: sorry for the late response

[Doctora]: phone died :(

[Doctora]: yeah im fine

[Doctora]: hope martin didnt hurt u too bad... Sweet dreams Pablo

[Gavi]: Same to u doctora <3

You didn't sleep that night. You watched the clock tick on until 5am, getting in your car and driving to your place. You stripped, throwing everything martin had touched in the hamper. If they weren't your work clothes, they would be in a donation bin. You stepping into the shower and began your hour long scrub. As you moved closer to your upper thighs, tears began welling up again. You didn't regret having sex with Martin, because that's what couples do. But you cried anyways. You cried because you had felt light a fleshlight the way he pumped and dumped in 2 minutes. You cried because he couldn't even ask 'Did you cum?' like some sleazy frat boy who rubbed your left lip vigorously for 15 seconds. You cried because you had sex with your committed boyfriend, and the only way to enjoy it was to close your eyes and think of the boy at your job. You scrubbed your skin raw, pinpricks of blood appearing on your upper thighs.

~~~

Over the next two weeks, you had sex with Martin three more times. Every time, it was the same result. He entered you, you teared up, you closed your eyes and pictured Gavi, and Martin came in under 3 minutes. It had made interacting with Gavi awkward to say the least. When driving him home, you did you best to focus only on the road, trying not to look at his hands or his thighs or his God forsaken lips. After the last game you attended, you were determined not to look at him at all while he was in the car, until he discovered that was your last game before the break.

"You're not coming to our game against Sevilla? Why not? It's the last one before the Christmas and international break."

You had to look at him at this point, but you wished you hadn't. He looked so adorable and pouty, eyes wide with longing. Gavi wouldn't get to see you after this if you weren't at the next game, seeing as he would be going directly from Barca training to Spain National team training.

"My last exam conflicts with it. I'll be able to catch the second half on TV, but there's no way for me to actually go."

"So this is it then? Until January?" He asked, voice low and sad-sounding. He didn't want to let you go. He didn't want to spend the next month away from you. He didn't want to think about the fact that you would be in Martin's arms for the entirety of that break.

"Try not to miss me too much, Pablo. I'll be back before you know it. Kick ass on Tuesday."

He leaned over the dash, hugging you tightly to his chest. You closed your eyes, making sure that you racing heart could not be felt by the boy hugging you tight. Gavi hoped that you would not notice how shaky he was. He didn't want you to know how nervous he was to be initiating a hug with you.

"Oh, before I forget, here you go." You said, reaching into the back and handing him his hoodie. Gavi felt his heart break. For a month you had worn his hoodie almost daily. Why would you return it now? Every time he felt he was getting closer to you, something was snapping the string between you and pulling you away. Did you not want to associate with him anymore?

"I feel bad, keeping your hoodie when it was never given to me. So I wanted to return it to its owner."

Gavi looked at you and smiled. You were so fucking cute. He took the hoodie from you, then reached into his bag, pulling out his body spray. He drenched the hoodie, then folded it back up and held it in front of you.

"I am officially giving you this hoodie. I hope it brings you comfort and warmth. And makes you think of me." He ends with a wink, and you giggle. He leaves your car, sparing you once last glance before waving you off. You left Gavi with butterflies in your stomach.

This is how you found yourself sitting at home, in underwear, tube socks, and Gavi's hoodie, watching the Barca match. You got out of your exam 15 minutes early, giving you enough time to get home and change. You loved watching the games on TV - the announcers made it much more entertaining. You weren't sure if you were hyper-focused on him or the camera just loved Gavi today, but he seemed to be the subject of every zoom-in. He looked so much better from this angle: thick arms wrapped in the tight sleeves of his shirt, sweat dripping from his forehead, hair slicked back and showing off his sculpted face. You pulled up his sweater, breathing in the smell deeply, and subconsciously bringing your thighs together.

The longer you watched the match, the more turned on you became. You started scrolling through Instagram during the game, looking at the fan accounts who posted pictures of Gavi. You stopped on one post in particular. It was a looping video, which showed Gavi on his knees on the field. He lifts his shirt to wipe his face, exposing his V-line. You thought that was the end, almost scrolling before you see it. Gavi runs his tongue across the inside of his mouth, and then proceeds to spit on the field. it was not uncommon for players to spit on the grass, but this was different. The fat glob of Gavi's saliva created a trail from his lips.

You watched the video again. And again. And again and again. You couldn't stop. Your hand traveled down your torso, toying with your nipples, until you reached the hem of your panties. As the video started again, you dipped your fingers past the waistband, feeling instantly how slick you were. Your cheeks burned with guilt - Gavi was your friend. He was someone you worked he. He was several years younger than you. And yet, you moved your fingers against your clit watching him spit on the grass. Your eyes fluttered shut, as you remembered the feel of hugging Pablo, the feel of him against your chest. The beat of his heart. The sound of his voice calling out your name. His raspy 'Good morning'. Would he sound like that when he was struggling to remain in control? You moved faster, soft moans leaving your lips as you worked yourself into a frenzy. You were getting closer, hearing Gavi in your head, until..

Incoming Call: Gavi

You wretched your hand away, embarrassed with yourself for getting off to the thought of your friend, while you had a boyfriend nonetheless. You took a deep breath, wiping your face with your clean hand, and picked up the call.

"Hello?"

"Doctora!! did you see the game? Are you home? How was the exam?"

"Uh... what do I answer first?"

"Actually, you can tell me when you see me. You need to come to Camp Nou."

This made you sit up straight. "I need to what?"

"I need some... emergency care. You need to get here as soon as possible."

You arrived to the stadium frantic, in Gavi's hoodie, some sneakers, and some sweats. You burst into Dr. Gonzalez's office, seeing three doctors all crowded around Gavi. When they parted, you gasped. He had a black eye, dried blood in a streak beneath his eye.

"What the fuck did you do?" You asked, putting on gloves so that you could get cleaning.

"I took a header that was, uhm... kind of low."

You started cleaning with an alcohol wipe, eliciting a hiss from Gavi.

"How low? The grass?"

Gavi went silent, and you groaned and rolled your eyes. You turned to look at the other doctors present.

"Did you guys call me in on my day off to clean up some dried blood and apply a bandage?"

Turns out, you were the only person on staff that could make sure he didn't have any orbital or internal bleeding in his skull. You allowed the rest of the medical staff to take off as you ran tests on Gavi and his swollen eye.

"So, doctora, any plans for the break?"

"I'm probably going to spend it with Martin, since he will be free for all of it."

Gavi scoffed at this. "Right, because he didn't get called for the national team. He gets a month long vacation now."

"He plays the same position as you, Gavi. I knew he would never get chosen over you. You're Spain's golden boy."

Gavi crossed his arms over his chest in satisfaction.

"Damn straight."

~~~

You drove Gavi home, blasting some of your favorite music from college through your car's speakers. You wanted to roll the windows down, but Gavi reminded you that December in Barcelona was not the best time for that.

"LISTEN BABY THIS A LAMBOURGHINI NOT A BENZ, I DON'T EVEN GET THE TIME TO FUCK YOU ON THE WEEKEND-"

"Alright I'm going inside my house I can't stand the yelling," Gavi laughs out as he exits your car. You lower the volume and exit the car as well. You walk over to Gavi, giving him a tight hug. Neither of you wanted to let go.

"Good luck, Pablo. You're going to do amazing. When do you go to Switzerland?" You asked, looking at the pavement rather than into his eyes. You were still embarrassed from your earlier activities regarding picturing Gavi's face.

"We leave in three days, so you don't need to start missing me until Friday night. Until then, you know where I live if you start going through Gavi withdrawals." You both laughed lightly, an awkward silence settling between you two. He was the first to move, lifting a hand to wave and he began walking towards the door. You got back in your car, trying to call Martin. He didn't respond, but you had his location. He was at home according to Find my Friends. You decided to go to his place and surprise him, starting the break together with him. Maybe the two of you could go out and celebrate - him the halfway mark of the season, and you the end of exams.

Gavi sighed when he cam back into his house, slumping onto his couch. He looked once again at the spot where you slept. There was that fucking ache again. He felt a gnawing at his soul when you weren't around - something akin to guilt. It's like the universe was asking him 'why'. Why didn't you tell her that her boyfriend is hot garbage and you could be everything that she needed? Why didn't you kiss her the thousand times you had a chance? He felt a pang from his eye - the ibuprofen must be wearing off. He reached into his bag to find the bottle and pop another, when he feels an envelope. He was instantly curious - when did someone have access to his bag to slip this in?

To Pablo, From Dr &lt;3

He ripped open the top, and out came a letter and a printed photo. It was a picture that someone from the media team had taken when you first started working there, right after the summer international break. Gavi was stretched on the table, with you behind him, helping him stretch out. You both wore deep scowls, your distain for each other evident then. The note was short, and read:

To Pablo G,

Happy Holidays and Happy Break! My salary can't buy you a better gift than you can buy yourself, so here is a picture from the beginning days of our dynamic friendship duo. Maybe we should go back to hating each other - we both look really hot when we frown.

Love, your favorite Physio &lt;3

Gavi, the teenager that he still was, hugged the photo and letter to his chest, his smile so wide it hurt his face. You were thinking about him. You thought about him enough to find a gift, get it for him, and slip it into his bag during his eye exam. Fuck, what should he get you?

His train of thought was cut off by screaming and banging on his door.

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

It was your voice. You were screaming at the top of your lungs, your voice hoarse - like you had been sobbing. Gavi leaped off his couch, running to the door and flinging it open. He felt the wait of you fall into his chest, your body wracked with sobs. Your legs weren't strong enough to keep you standing, so he held up your weight. He clutched you tightly, wanting to keep you safe. He looked up, and he saw who it was you were running screaming from: Martin.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hey y'all!! Hope you enjoy part 6!! Maybe I shouldn't say this because I made y'all wait for so long, but I don't think this part is as good as the last one. Part 7 gonna be a Banger tho. Anyways, please let me know your comments, thoughts, feedback, and theories in the replies or in my ask box!!! I love reading everything you guys think about this series!! Also, I love when people find little details/ easter eggs in the writing, so do w that info what you will. Next part won't take nearly as long. Have a great night y'all see u soooooon <<<<33333

Also please comment if you want to be added to the taglist ok bye

*~*Taglist*~*

@l0verl4ne @vibinwkay @anastasia-nova @mxgvmiii @mads-grace4 @bubblebeep69 @katluckybear @scuderiabarca @alwaysclassyeagle @simpingmyassoff @grlwithprblms @lqvesoph @pink-manz @graziemille @xxenia14 @nngkay @icedlattewithextracaramel @gyusrose @vip-access @julianalvarez9 @lavie3nrose @ge0rg1ewaa @i8yul @lovefordilfs271 @remuslupinluver @thattaylorswiftobsessedbitch @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @kaismybabe @notanenthucutlet @fullsun9890 @venomwh0re @renaissancewhxre @gaviandgrizisgirl

[sirfrogsworth]

It's hard to be nostalgic about Tumblr without remembering my friend Tru.

Truett McGowan.

What a fantastic name.

We met each other because we were both tech geeks following Leo Laporte. He was the very first live streamer. Originally he hosted a TechTV cable show called The Screen Savers. But once G4 took over and focused more on video games, Leo's show was cancelled and he was looking for a new way to broadcast content.

So he built a studio near his home and created his own infrastructure in order to live stream video on the internet. He called his new show "This Week in Tech" or TWiT for short.

Along with his new streaming venture he created a TWiT community using an open source microblogging platform called Laconica. It was a form of Twitter that you could create specifically for a single community. Basically a custom niche Twitter feed. I was trying to be a web designer back then, so I created custom themes for Lacnonica.

This was my own personal theme for a website that I ended up never launching.

Leo called his custom Twitter, "The TWiT Army." And I was his graphic designer and webmaster. I made all of the cute little graphics for the website.

I also did fun holiday themes...

For the Thanksgiving theme, if you hovered over the Turkey it would change to being cooked.

I also took it upon myself to photoshop a little army helmet on the avatar of every single user of the site.

This was the zombie avatar I made for myself during Halloween.

The TWiT Army was also where I started posting my first attempts at Photoshop comedy. Many of them related to The TWiT Army.

And The TWiT Army is where I met Tru. He used a space invader avatar. I made him a couple of different versions.

You may have seen his avatar on the sidebar of my main Tumblr.

We became fast friends. We finished each other's jokes. We talked pretty much all day, every day. He loved Apple back then. I was strictly PC at the time. So we debated about that quite a bit. He would probably be astonished I have a MacBook and that I really love it too.

Our friendship lived in a little text box. We never talked outside of instant messages. But it was one of the most profound friendships of my life. I loved Tru just as much as any friend I've ever known in real life.

Tru started blogging on this brand new site called Tumblr. He reviewed apps for the iPod Touch. Not the iPhone, as that wasn't yet a thing.

I made the banner for his Tumblr.

He kept trying to get me to join Tumblr, but I was busy trying to create my own custom comedy website. But my site kept getting more and more complicated and I could never quite finish it. I was trying to arrange guest authors and create 3 months of content and I was always futzing with the theme and never happy with it.

I was getting frustrated that I could never launch my perfect comedy website and Tru suggested just making a Tumblr and posting funny stuff so I could be creative and have an outlet until my big site was ready to launch.

Little did I know Tumblr would end up being my big comedy website. Eventually I abandoned months of work and just stayed on Tumblr. All of my success here is pretty much because that little space invader pestered me to join when I was being stubborn.

Unfortunately, as some may have figured out already, the story gets sad from there. Tru mentioned briefly that he had a heart defect, but he never said it was serious. He acted like it was no big deal so I never thought too much about it.

We always talked through instant message and email, so we never exchanged phone numbers or addresses or anything like that. Tru was a very private person so he never even published an image of his face online. I only knew him as a space invader.

One day I woke up and sent him a message and got no reply. He usually woke up before me and answered as soon as I said hello. This had been our routine for nearly a year.

An hour went by. Two hours. Three hours.

It was odd for him not to respond for that long. I was really worried but all of my TWiT friends told me I was being paranoid. But there was a huge knot in my stomach telling me otherwise.

But then those hours turned into days. Days into weeks. Weeks into months. My worry grew exponentially as more time passed. I didn't know what to do. I tried finding his family. I even looked into hiring a private investigator. I don't know if I have ever felt a combination of depression & anxiety that intense.

In my heart, I knew what had happened. I knew that heart defect took his life. He was only 26 and it just didn't seem fair. But the not knowing for certain ravaged my mental health. Before all of this I had lost nearly 90 pounds and I gained it all back.

I think maybe a year or so later I found a friend of his who knew him in real life. They were finally able to confirm my suspicions. He passed away from his heart condition. That was my first real experience with grief. But I was so thankful for that bit of closure. I was finally able to let go of my anxiety and mourn him properly.

But Tru gave me such a wonderful gift. He pushed me to just start making things. To stop stalling and just create things to make people smile.

And you all probably know the rest from there.

[anadiasmount]

me and you? - c.p

gif not mine.

Summary: After being invited out to the wedding of his closest friend, some feelings are revealed during the event.

First puli fic! If you have any requests, they are currently open <3

Word count: 2.7k

He props up behind you, offering you a hand with your necklace. “Still can’t do it?” he teases, you nod and grab your hair so it wouldn’t get in the way. You watch as his hands work the clasp so the necklace would stay in place, his fingertips ever so slightly touching the nape of your neck. He sees the goosebumps that arise on your skin, holding himself back from pressing small kisses along your bare neck and shoulder.

He knows he shouldn’t, but you fit into his embrace so perfectly. He knows it's wrong to feel how he does, that it should never have happened because of the agreement always to stay best friends. But you were it for him, the way you hugged him close after a tough day, making those fantastic sandwiches when you don’t feel like making a big meal, always open to watching monsters inc for like the thousandth time.

It could be the little things like making coffee before he leaves, or when you stay the night in the morning you leave little notes rather than a text, when his family visits him you always give him space but his family adores you always making you feel included, you always make time for him even if you're busy or if you're not at you 100%.

But something he will truly never get over is how he is himself without you judging. Even before moving from America, he always dealt with his insecurities and constant judgment from everyone, it always was there. It got worse and he always shut out from the world, not knowing who or how to reach out to.

He doesn't have to be fake happy, or fake a smile, he can laugh loudly not caring if he lets out a small snort. He will often tease you, kiss your head, and hold your hand when you begin to feel nervous if you're out in public. When you tell him you would stay over he is always met with you layed out on the couch with a messy bun and glasses reading a book of interest. “If only you were mine…”

He cuts out of his daze and pays attention to how you turn around slowly, placing your hands along his chest. His eyes link with yours, and Christian smirks too when you let a shudder of air at the closeness of your bodies. “You okay?” he finally speaks, causing a blush to your cheeks when it comes out raspy and deep. You nod and fix his tie which was a little loose, he frowns at your sudden quietness, so he brings your small hands to his lips kissing softly along your knuckles.

“Tell me what's wrong…” Christian pleads, you sigh but smile nervously, “I don’t know how to describe it Chris. I have this feeling in my stomach that hasn't gone away, and before you start no Im not feeling sick,” you cut him off before he could ask you. “It's a gut feeling that hasn't gone away since the morning,” he narrows his eyes and hums.

“If you continue feeling like that during the wedding please tell me. We can come home at any time,” he states. Home. You didn't realize till you were getting ready today that you've been coming to his home for the past 2 weeks straight. Cuddling on his couch, making breakfast before departing ways, having his friends over for game nights, and even sleeping on his bed at night, legs tangled beneath the sheets.

“I might go to my flat tonight…” you say randomly feeling like you've maybe overstayed your original stay. He shakes his head and squeezes your hands a bit tighter, almost as if he was afraid to let go, “Why? I wanted to surprise you tomorrow morning with brunch. Did I do something?” he frowns. “No, no, no! You haven't done a single thing, Christian, just missing the flat a bit. Last time I was there was two weeks ago…” you reveal giggling at his reaction.

He was so used to having you around he almost begged for you to stay, that you could do it together but in the morning, tonight he wanted you here, in his arms, in his bed, with his shirt.

You pull your hands from his and bring them to Christian's cheeks, swiping your thumbs over his freckles and slight stubble, “I promise I’ll be here before you wake up tomorrow, okay? So you can still “surprise me” with brunch,” you fake quote with your fingers. He chuckles and agrees, he hugs you, your scent hitting his senses, “Let's get going? I know you hate London traffic,” he kisses your cheek and interlocks your hands together.

“You look absolutely beautiful Y/n.”

“Likewise handsome…”

– – –

Your eyes did not leave his toned body all night, not even when you stood next together while greeting around. Christian just looked like a good-to-be-true dream, his black suit hugging the perfect places, and the precious black tie causing dirty images in your head. His Daniel Wellington watch on his tattooed wrist, his right wrist wearing your handmade friendship bracelet.

He currently had his left arm wrapped around your waist, his fingertips from time to time drawing small shapes and figures. You had excused yourself to go to the bathroom to touch up your lipstick that had faded after drinking some water and a glass of champagne.

Christian meant the absolute world to you, and the constant fear of losing him if things went wrong always scared you. Were you willing to lose a person who brought you coffee while you studied? The exact person who always greets you with a kiss on your cheek and then who hid their head in the crook of your neck? That person who you randomly danced under the rain the summer trip the year before, almost kissed?

That darn blush that adorned his freckled skin when you complimented even the smallest bit? The one who always bought you and your flat roses? The one who always dedicated his goals to you? You were too attached at this point to let go.

How would you tell him how you felt inside, not knowing if he even felt the same? The feeling of rejection crossed inside your head, the confrontation? Who were you kidding, he felt the same for you. These whole two weeks proved your point. You suddenly felt more confident, sexy even, the bubbly feeling inside you still present.

Before you walked out to the party once again you made sure the lipstick wasn’t smudged or on your teeth. You found his eyes instantly, they were already on you, and so you walked over to the table and sat down next to him. “You really do look stunning Y/n,” said Weston with a slight smirk on his face, you thanked him seeing how Christian clenched his jaw. “Did you just get here or?” he asked leaning over to you slightly.

“No, I arrived with Chris. We’ve been here for a while actually,” you smiled seeing Weston nod. The air felt heavy around the table causing Tyler to abruptly stand up and asks for everyone’s drink orders.

When you declined his offer Christian leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Have something, please. You told me you had a gut feeling, and I want to make sure you're okay,” he pleaded with his gorgeous brown eyes, how could you say no? All you did was nod and listened to Chris order a drink for you and him.

When Tyler returned the mood uplit, everyone laughing and having a conversation, telling stories from each other lives, and those from the US camps. When the lights dimmed and lit up the door entrance you clapped at the bride and groom who walked in with their hand in the air. They each gave speeches, and soon the party began again.

For the first 2 hours, you danced with some of your girlfriends that attended who were there and Christian of course. You took pictures at a booth with him, using the props and sunglasses that were laid there. You laughed at the caught-of-guard pictures that were taken, going for a second round, this time coming out prettier and happier.

“I'll be right back, going to use the restroom and get a drink,” Christian announced quietly to you once you were sat at the table again, you nodded and whispered a quick ‘be careful’. When you looked around you saw Tyler shake his head ‘no’ at Weston who had a mischievous smile on his face, and you suddenly panicked when you read his lips, “let her be, she's here with Pulisic man!”

“Y/n! Have a dance with me! I promise I don’t bite,” Weston said in a joking tone. A slow song played in the back, and you skimmed over to the dance floor which had couples and even the bride and groom dancing slowly. You cursed at yourself for being such a people pleaser, not wanting to make anyone feel upset or left out, you were just like that. “Let's go McKennie.”

He led you over to the dance floor, you finally had a good look at his cream suit and black button-up. Both of your bodies swaying to the music, one of his hands on your middle back and the other interlocked with yours. “Trust me, my intention isn't to hit on you or make you feel uncomfortable. I apologize if I came off that way,” Weston spoke. You furrowed your brows confused, and looked up, “I don’t understand-”

“He loves you Y/n, so much,” Weston said and smiled when he saw you realized who he was talking about. “Christian never stops talking about you, ‘Y/n this, Y/n made these cookies, Y/n was telling me, Y/n is staying over tonight,’ he's utterly obsessed at this point,” he teases. You laugh and continue to dance, “Give him a chance, the two of you were made for each other. Everyone notices besides the two of you. The love and relationship have been there since day one.”

“Never took you as the advice giver Wes,” you said smirking making him laugh. “Well here we are I guess,” Weston shrugged his shoulders and spoke again “Do you plan on telling him? Because if looks could kill, I would be dead by now,” you turn your head at his words and lock eyes with Christian.

He looks down and walks off to the table, his jaw clenching and unclenching, fist closed so tight his knuckles appear white. “Never took him as a jealous type,” expressed Weston. “I wanted to tell him tonight. I don't know I'm tired of waiting and honestly, it feels like we're already together. I didn't realize till today I was there for two weeks straight…”

He suddenly stops dancing, “Be happy with him. You love him dearly. The two of you deserve it. Tell him how you feel Y/n.” At that moment, Christian suddenly appears slapping Weston’s back playfully, a forced and tight smile on his lips, “Tell who what?”

Weston chuckles nervously and quickly retracts his hands back, “Hey man, you're back!”

Christian nods and cocks his head to the side, “Never left Wes”. Weston awkwardly walks off to the table, and you laugh as Tyler ushers him with his hand angrily to come back. You gulp and clear your throat as you observe Christian now with no tie and his first three buttons undone, a full view of his chain and chest hair. “What’s up, you okay?” you ask when you see him take deep breaths, the jealousy still present.

He relaxes when you bring your hands around up to his neck, not holding back and wrapping his arms tight and close to your body. His head rests on the side of your, feeling his nose trace along your jaw down to your neck. Christian presses a couple of kisses along your jaw, behind your ear, your pulse point, all the way down to where your neck meets your shoulder. Testing the water, but he sees how you love it. “I can't hold back anymore longer Y/n…”

You throw your head back at the feeling of his lips again, holding back a moan. “Wh-Wha-What do you mean Christian?” you stutter and then gulp. “Jesus, even the way you say my name makes me feel things you have no idea”. You don't even feel it when Christian starts swaying his body side to side with yours, dancing slowly to the music in the background. “Do you remember when we first met Y/n?” he asks, now resting his cheek next to yours.

“How could I forget? I didn’t know a single thing about you and what you did. You claimed you loved the small tattoo I have behind my ear and bought me a coffee with a chocolate donut” you had the courage to speak and reply. Christian hummed pulling you closer to his body, feeling the muscle underneath, “Can I confess something to you?” he whispers along your ear causing goosebumps to arise. “Anything. Tell me,” you urge.

“Just promise me you won't leave. Leave me.”

“I promise Christian, just please tell me,” you play with the hair on the nape of his neck. “If there's anything certain in my life it's you. I love you, y/n. It's been you always, I love you and your imperfections. I just want you next to me, supporting me at my games, watching the sunset at Jupiter, to do those silly face masks. You treat me so well, and you have no idea of how afraid I get if I weren't ever to have you, one-day pretty girl.”

You gasp at his words, not believing he's actually confessing how he feels right now. He brings his head back to stare at your face, your teary eyes and mouth slightly gaped open. “Say something, please,” Christian begs, and all you can do is chuckle. “Remember when I met your sister that one time by accident at your house?” he looks at you amused yet dumbfounded to see where you were going to take things.

“I knew from that day forward I would be stuck with you forever. That day you lifted the trophy with the US team, I knew I loved you. I love your small pep talks before I leave to take tests, your messy curls in the morning, and the little face you make when you see me wearing your hoodie, but most of all I love the way you love me…”

“Hold me when I'm upset or have just had a shit day, rub your hand on my thigh while I read, when you help me pick out plants for your house even if you insist there's plenty already, your soft eyes even when I blabber the stupidest shit, you playing your guitar… I love you, Christian.”

You stare at his soft brown eyes now filled with tears, one slowly falling down your cheek, you swipe it away with the back of your hand. Christian brings his tattoed hand to tuck your hair back, then suddenly lands on your cheek pulling you to his lips. He kisses you like there's no tomorrow, the sweet taste of your lips makes him groan, now holding your sides with both hands.

Your hands come up to his face, his slight beard tickling your palms but you don't care. You're too into the moment to care, just paying attention to how now his tongue teases your bottom lip to open, and when you do he wastes no time to kiss you deeper. Your hands now slightly tugging his hair. He gulps your soft moans and gasps. You place both of your feet back on the ground after tip-toeing, just smiling along his lips.

“Is this real?” you couldn't help but ask, your thumb swiping behind his ear. Christian nods pecking your lips once more, “More than real, baby. You're mine Y/n, all mine pretty girl.”

“Yours,” you agree. “So this is? You’re finally my girlfriend yeah?” Christian questions, his voice slightly nervous and excited. “Yes, as long as you’re my boyfriend? Forever and ever Mr. Captain America?” you tease him by saying his nickname that everyone love but him at times. “Deal. Still want to stay at your flat?”

“Not a chance. I want to stay next to you for tonight Chris…”

[watchmegetobsessed]

❄️HOT AND COLD❄️

A/N: week 2 of fanficmas yeah!! this was the first fic i wrote, some good ol' college!harry to get you all cozy hehe

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

SUMMARY: You decided to spend two more days at the dorm before heading home to have some peace and work on your assignments. However you didn't expect them to turn the heating off once everyone left. No worries, the hot guy living next door is ready to keep you warm.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

This fic is part of ❄️ FANFICmas 2022 ❄️ Read more about fanficmas here!

You thought staying two extra days in the dorm before going home for the holidays would be a great idea. Have some quiet and peace for yourself, finish some assignments so you don’t stress about them during Christmas. Theoretically, it was a fantastic idea.

In reality? The worst one you’ve ever had.

You didn’t think they would turn down the heating the moment the dorm empties out. Well, it’s a logical thing to do, but it never occurred to you and you only realized it when the temperature started dropping significantly after the last wave of students left in the morning. You went out to run errands and you could feel the change when you arrived back. The hallways were chillier and your room started to feel like a cave. At first you just sucked it up, put on a hoodie, wrapped yourself in a blanket and got down to business. Your uncle always said you can decide whether you’re cold or not, so you kept thinking about hot things to keep your mind off of how freezing it was starting to get.

Hot tea.

Hot chocolate.

A tub of hot water.

Freshly baked, hot cookies.

The hot guy next door.

Wait, what? How did you end up thinking about Harry?

As you sit on your bed with your textbooks surrounding you, an all too familiar voice makes your ears perk up. You’d recognize it anywhere and it never fails to make your heart pitter-patter, but now you’re surprised to hear it since you thought you were the last one left in the building.

Well, you were wrong.

You hear Harry Styles striding down the hallway, singing Jingle Bells without a care. You get out of bed before you could think and throw your door open, catching him by surprise judging from the little jump he does as he turns around.

“Y/N? You’re still here?”

“I was just about to ask the same question from you,” you chuckle, stepping out into the hallway, but your smile soon turns into shock when you see him sporting shorts and just a shirt. “How have you not turned into ice wearing that?”

Chuckling he looks down at himself.

“I have a heater of my own. I could turn my room into a sauna,” he jokes and you can’t help a stupid laugh that slips out of your mouth.

You always lose your cool around him, he’s been your ultimate college crush since you moved in at the beginning of the semester and you usually end up making a fool of yourself in front of him. Whether it’s talking gibberish or dripping eggs when he walks into the kitchen, he has seen you at your worst in these two months you’ve been living next to each other.

“You’re not going home for winter break?” he asks, striking up a conversation and you pray you don’t embarrass yourself this time.

“Oh, I am, but only late tomorrow. Wanted some alone time before going home to the family, study and stuff, you know…”

“Clever,” he nods with a smile.

“What about you?”

“I’m leaving tomorrow too, I was supposed to go home today, but my flight got cancelled.”

“That sucks, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugs. “You’re sitting in your cold room all by yourself?”

“Well, not everyone has their own fireplace,” you snort out a laugh, but it sounded funnier in your head for sure.

“Come over to mine,” he offers and you have to fight yourself not to let your mouth hang open.

You’ve hung out before, ran into each other at parties and while your crush is deeply rooted at this point, you two aren’t exactly the closest friends, you haven’t been in his room before, haven’t even hugged him so entering into his private space is the most intimate you’d ever get with him.

“Um, I don’t want to bother—“

“Y/N, you’re not bothering, I’m just playing video games.”

“B-But still…”

“You’d rather freeze to death in your room than to be around me? I have to say I’m a little hurt.” With a hand over his heart he gives you a disappointed look, though you can tell he’s just teasing you.

“You really don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have invited you over if I did. Come on, bring all your stuff.”

And so you end up moving over to Harry’s room that feels like paradise. The temperature is perfect, you can get rid of your hoodie as you settle on top of his bed while he sits by his desk with his PC, some kind of action game paused on the screen.

His room is oddly tidy for a college boy. The bed was made even before you appeared, there are no dirty clothes on the floor, only in the hamper in the corner, his bookshelf is crowded, but it seems to have a system in it that probably only he knows.

“Is it warm enough?” he asks, settling at his computer.

“Yeah, thanks,” you nod, feeling a bit out of place, but the warmth feels nice.

“Cool,” he nods before turning back to his game and unpausing it.

For the first hour you just coexist in peace. It takes you some time to focus on studying with Harry being so close and also being in Harry’s room, but the feeling wears down and you can finally work efficiently while he keeps himself busy with his game. But then he stops playing and becomes more interested in whatever you are doing.

“You haven’t finished this sheet yet?” he asks, holding up the statistics task sheet you’ve been putting off for over a month now.

“No,” you sigh in defeat. “I’m not really good at statistics.”

“Want me to help? I’m in Dr. Thomson’s Thursday class, but we went over the same thing too.”

“It’s my homework, I don’t want to bore you with it.”

“It’s fine, I actually liked these tasks.”

So then the evening turns into tutoring, Harry sits on the bed beside you, explaining you how to solve the tasks and even shows a better method you understand way more than what you were taught. After that, he just sticks to studying with you, though it slowly turns into anything and everything but studying. He clearly loses interest in helping you, but he doesn’t seem to want to leave you alone and your focus breaks too. Of course you’d rather hang out with Harry than write a paper on Switzerland’s economy!

You’re having a blast. Both of you. It’s the first time hanging out one-on-one, but it’s going better than you imagined. You haven’t made a fool out of yourself, even cracked some jokes that made him laugh, though he is surely the funnier one. He is telling you all kinds of crazy stories from before college and also asks you about your high school years.

“Mm, this was great, though I did not get as much done as I planned to,” you chuckle, taking a look at your stack of textbooks.

“But we had a good time and that’s all that matters,” he grins at you, hugging his pillow.

“Alright. I’ll get out of your hair,” you move to pack your things and return to your room, but then he speaks up.

“What are you doing?”

“Going back to my room.”

“You didn’t think I would let you sleep in the cold, did you?”

“What, you want me to sleep here?” you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Sure. There’s plenty of space for us. You’re sleeping here tonight,” he simply states.

About twenty minutes later, you’re sitting on the edge of his bed in your pajamas, waiting for him to return from his shower.

You’re really about to sleep in the same bed as Harry Styles. Hopefully you won’t kick him in the groin or say something stupid in your dreams or drool on him or—“

“You look worried,” he comments as he walks in, dropping his used clothes into his hamper. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything is fine. Totally awesome and perfect!”

God, you are so awkward!

“Okay,” he smiles to himself. “Take whatever side you want. It’s not a king sized bed, but it’s fine for two people for one night.”

You gulp at the thought of Harry spending the night here with another girl, jealousy bubbles in your chest.

“At least Niall and I survived the time he got locked out of his room,” he adds with a chuckle and you exhale in relief.

You end up taking the inner side of the bed and you lie on your side as he makes himself comfortable on the outer side. It’s really not too spacious, but at least it’s warm and smells like Harry.

“Thanks for… letting me crash here,” you whisper into the silence. Harry turns to you with a tiny, but charming smile.

“I’m glad it’s you I have to share my warmth with,” he cheekily says and heat rushes into your cheeks right away. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Harry.”

 

You knew you’d end up tangled together. It was inevitable in such a small space. But still, your heart starts racing when you wake up and find yourself cuddling Harry, who has his arms around you as well. He’s warm and soft, definitely meant to be cuddled in your humble opinion.

He stirs in his sleep and your heart jumps when his eyes flutter open. He doesn’t move away, in fact, he pulls you closer as he exhales lazily.

“Good morning,” he mumbles groggily.

“Mornin’,” you breathe out, feeling like a giddy little girl.

 “I hope you weren’t cold,” he chuckles softly and you feel his chest vibrating underneath your cheek.

“No. I felt nice and warm.”

“Alright,” he smiles. “When is your flight?”

“Five thirty. What about yours?”

“Six. Want to share an Uber to the airport?”

“Sure,” you nod.

You spend most of your time left together. You grab a late breakfast, then hang out in his room and not just because his room is the only place in the building that hasn’t turned into a freezer. It feels natural to be around each other.

Then you share a ride to the airport, grab coffee and then wait together until it’s time for you to go to your gate.

“Well, have a great time at home,” he smiles at you.

“You too. Thanks for… everything,” you chuckle softly. “I’ll see you after the break and...”

Don’t forget about me, you want to say, but you bite it back.

There’s something hanging between the two of you, something unsaid and you fear you’ll have to leave without changing that.

“Okay, I’ll… go,” you mumble, grabbing your suitcase, but before you could walk away, Harry pulls you back.

“When we come back, do you want to… Do you want to go out? With me?”

You can’t stop your mouth from hanging open this time, his question came as a total shock.

“Honestly, I’ve been crushing on you for a while, but every time we spoke you seemed so frightened and ran away, so I took it as a sign,” he admits with a nervous chuckle. “But I think last night was nice, I liked hanging out with you and there’s a chance you feel the same way, so I thought I would… shoot my shot.”

You open your mouth, but then close it as his words sink in. He thought you didn’t like him. Because you ran away from him. But that was because you were into him. What a mess.

“Yes,” is all that comes out of your mouth at last.

“Yes as in…?”

“Yes, I want to go out with you,” you elaborate chuckling. “And I only ran away because I really liked you and I was too nervous.”

You watch his face light up before he nods.

“Great! I mean, not that you were too nervous,” he grins. “So then… Date. When we come back.”

“Yeah,” you nod, mirroring his widening smile. “I have to… I have to go now.”

“Alright. See you… next year then,” he chuckles and leaning closer he kisses the corner of your mouth before you part ways.

After that, you’re basically glued to your phone, nonstop talking to Harry throughout winter break and you’ve never wanted to return to school so badly before. You text, call and send pictures to each other continuously and you can’t even remember the times when it wasn’t like this.

When you return to campus in January, your excitement is kicking high, though on the day of your arrival, Harry’s responses come way less often than they used to, but you’re not trying to see too much into it.

As you’re unpacking your suitcase there’s a knock on your door and when you open it, your heart skips not just one, but probably several beats when you see him standing in the hallway with a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

“Don’t you feel cold in here? I think you should come over to my room.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!