#x men fc

[flastar13]

I don't know why so many fanfics go out of their way to portray the female version of Charles Xavier as tomboyish or looking like a grandmother. The Charles Xavier of the movies is a dandy who cares about his hair (when he had it) and is always well dressed. If I were Charlotte, I imagine her swapping cardigans and pants with elegant suits or dresses, in shades of grey, blue, pink and violet, just like the canon male version of her, depending on the scene and her mood. I imagine her a bit like Sandie from Last Night in Soho, but instead of murders, she is a scientist, telepath and lover of cardigans on lazy days. Parties are catnip for telepaths.

[leilohsstupidgaystuff]

It's New Year's Eve, and Erik thinks Charles is going to kiss Moira on midnight, and he's already drinking a lot because of it, but Charles takes his glass away because he "doesn't want him vometing before they kiss" and Erik just stops working.

[wishchip106]

guess what i’m missing!!! 🤩🤩🤩

FUCKKK WHERES THE X-FAMILY CONTENT WHEN I NEED IT 😭😭😭😭😭

bro why couldn’t i just get a whole movie of them being silly and happy together.. ☹️

gawddamn IM STARVING, I AM FAMISHED, I AM DYING OF LACK OF NUTRIENTS HELP MEEE

guys give me fic recs of them being just domestic and having fun i don’t know what to search up 😿

[leonsgotit]

x-men as text posts

[lothris]

besties, I am so fucking unwell. I need him so goddamn bad!

[riceandcurry3]

Every time Charles is mad he just kinda....waits for Erik to look at him before he becomes mad. Bro wants his husband to know. There's probably more instances but. it's a lot.

He waits for Erik to realise he's mad and then Erik's gotta be like "ah man I made him mad didn't I, probably should talk about it or he'll explode me with his eyes"

This just proves. Charles is sassy. (Especially the second gif)

(also the last gif is just more proof they are basically eye fucking every chance they get)

[lustrexia]

im definitely interested in the Jude and Pablo drabble... please post it😫

tw: nsfw, size kink, hate sex, rivalry, rough oral sex, minors dni.

— “Size does matter” Jude Bellingham and Pablo Gavi

It’s probably not his fault. Not entirely, anyway, it’s just that it’s too obvious. Too noticeable.

Pablo, he means. Barcelona’s golden boy. The title didn’t mean too much to Jude, he already won that award last year, pretty easily so if his ego permitted him to admit. Madrid’s marketing did really go far long, didn’t it?

But that wasn’t really what made Jude feel bad, really. It’s Gavi’s height. And his body. And everything.

It became almost overwhelming to him when he noticed it; Pablo was really small. Hell, he could totally beat him up and the guy wouldn’t stand a chance, but that’s not what he really wants to do with him.

It’s almost funny, Jude notes. He’s so small, but so full of energy and will, it’s like his body was made of seventy percent determination and twenty percent water, albeit one or two percent of that had a little bit of poor emotional regulation.

Maybe that’s what made Gavi so endearing to half of the population. That he wore his heart on his sleeve, that he presented himself quite authentically, just as he was on the interior.

His chest too small for his big heart to fit into. It’s not saying much though, Jude snorts dryly, Gavi was really small. Wasn’t even like the guy was skinny or anything, the barcelonista stole the attention of his eyes plenty of times, his body was toned and his skin seemed just so soft.

But he wasn’t thin at all, even Pedri was way thinner than him.

Maybe he’s overthinking. Obsessed with the entire image of Pablo’s body even. He shouldn’t even be thinking about another man like that, he’s got a career and priorities that he has to take care of, like his younger brother throwing a little bit of a fit because of some girl. Or the fact that he just lost the European Championship to Spain.

He can’t. He can’t stop thinking about it. Because that’s all his male brain spits at him when he sees Pablo at the other side of the stadium, celebrating his win.

Smiling, like he ever did something to deserve that happiness.

He avoids Cole Palmer’s look when the blond straight up ignores his handshake. He’d talk about it later, when his own emotional block stops and he can start actually feeling anything other than ‘void’.

Jude walks just beside the trophy, that’s already decorated with Spain’s ugly colors, just tacky red and yellow. His steps feel heavy, even breathing is hard for him. He can sense his own lungs contracting and letting loose one again.

Losing takes the form of a bitter taste on his tongue. It’s ugly, it’s accompanied of despair and it’s everything he didn’t plan for.

It’s everything that Pablo Gavi isn’t feeling at that moment. He can almost taste the victory from the pretty boy’s mouth, and now he’s getting closer and closer. Jude feels in a trance, he can’t make something of whatever Pablo is saying at him, some bullshit about second place in Spanish, probably.

He doesn’t care. He never cared for what being a madridista meant for the blaugrana men. He’s English, he recognizes that he doesn’t feel the rivalry as his own, but he can empathize with the fear of losing, so there’s that.

And it’s so stupid, how Pablo looks at him triumphant, like this is such an important moment for him, like this means something. Like he’s Cristiano at forty with his career ending right now. He’s not. He’s a talented twenty something with lots of projection for the future. Gavi is a failure of La Masía, injured and barely walking like a normal person.

Jude is getting mad, mainly at himself for not hating the gorgeous boy that’s looking at him through his lashes, teasingly demeaning him with an adorable Spaniard accent. He should be disgusted, should push him to the green hard ground of the field.

He doesn’t. Jude looks at him in the eye, with curiosity, like he’s watching some scientific experiment with a really stupid rat lab, fixating on every move that Gavi makes.

“And you’re second! I can’t believe it! Joder, que te hemos ganado!” He says, his hazel eyes glowing in the artificial light of the stadium.

Jude feels drunk in a bad way, time is slowing down like he smoked something thirty minutes ago and Pablo’s monologue is getting slurred.

He can’t stand it. Not like this. Not with how easy he could grab Pablo’s arm and throw him around like he deserves to. Jude’s sanity is clearly disappearing, he can feel it sliding down his spine, pinching him. Gavi’s densely annoying rich boy accent doesn’t help him either.

It’s not his fault. Pablo is annoyingly pretty, and totally crushable, like some insect he can get rid off easily with the sole of his expensive sneakers. It’s childish, but the need is clearly there.

So he indulges into it, posing his big hand on the back of Pablo’s neck, pushing him to walk forcefully at his side, like they were friends; resembling a bond that was not there, just for the cameras.

He could see how Gavi tensed and changed his facial expression to something a little bit uncomfortable, his eyebrows were almost knitted to each other and his lips formed a nervous curved line.

And it was exactly as he thought so, Gavi was weaker than him, couldn’t fight or back off even he was in serious danger.

“M’sorry” Gavi said, “I was just teasing, it’s just banter, sorry”.

Fucking brat, Jude didn’t respond. He just continued to guide Gavi’s body towards the hallway of the stadium, searching for somewhere more private.

The cameras didn’t even flinch at them disappearing, the public was more focused on celebrating the win or just taking pics of the actual players on the pitch.

Jude scanned through the doors and stairs of the space, finding in some barren corner a door with the ‘storage’ sign in a foreign language. Fucking Germans and their weird wording.

He lowered his hand now that the cameras weren’t looking, placing his calloused fingers on Gavi’s waist. So tiny. Jude heard the other man’s breathing hitch almost whimper airily.

So this was affecting Pablo at the same intensity as it was affecting him. News flash. The insanity of this exclusive situation altered the cute midfielder too.

God, so maddening. He squeezes the curve of his waist, reminding him of how useless fighting back is going to be. Someone of his size couldn’t possibly get him off in a real struggle. Gavi whimpers, biting his lip.

“Whore” He whispers into Gavi’s ear, his hot air hitting him. “I’m going to break you in half”.

He’s almost sure Gavi is pretty entitled and possibly did refuse to learn English in the past, but he can see that he understood what Jude told him right there. His face, now totally bewildered, exploded in pretty pink colors. He was blushing.

They entered the storage room, it was small, closet-like, just enough space for the two of them to breathe in each other’s faces. He pushed Gavi’s body towards the cold surface of some shelf, looking down at him, noticing just how frail he really was.

It made him so hungry. Like he was king starved and now there was a big plate of his favorite meal in front of him, just waiting to be sexually cannibalized on. The air hung heavy on them, the realization of what they were really going to do was now crawling under their skins.

He pushed through it, through whatever this meant for Pablo. It wasn’t his place to care for it, he just had an itch he needed to scratch badly.

“Take your jersey off” he commanded to him, already pissed off at how red looked amazing on Gavi.

White would look more elegant. More classy.

Gavi did, he took off the garment, not breaking eye contact if possible. Venomous.

Jude aggressively took his own jersey off and grabbed Gavi’s neck with just one hand. His long fingers made a good collar for the barcelonista’s neck, pressing lightly. Pablo moaned, his eyes half closed, full of incomprehensible lust.

“Put it on, quickly”.

He released his grip on Pablo’s neck and threw the shirt at him, watched how Gavi’s pathetically small hands trembled while putting the piece of clothing on.

Holy shit.

“¿Qué?” Oh, maybe Jude said that out loud.

“Nothing,” Jude went back to his stoic look, “White looks good on you”.

Pablo’s look, full of empty hatred fueled his own lust. Culé at heart dressed in white. Humiliation must be burning in his stomach.

But Pablo was hard, the tent of his shorts showed him just that. Was he really into the whole being the bitch of a madrid player thing? That was a new low, it made Jude smile.

Gavi was just as pitiable as he thought. Could bark and try to bite as many times as he wanted to, that wouldn’t change the fact that he’s weak in physicality, biologically inferior.

“Get on your knees”.

Jude didn’t wait for Gavi to move, he shoved him down, using little force. Pablo’s little prince hairstyle was now messy, his curls running wild because of the new hot boiling temperature. He was sure Gavi could feel how warm his bulge felt, even when his face was pressed against it with shorts on.

He couldn’t possibly get harder, the view was amazing, Pablo’s face length matched the length of his clothed dick, that Gavi was caressing with his cheek.

“You’re so big, joder, qué pollón” Gavi whispered, and for some reason, Jude thought that would probably be the dirtiest thing that someone could ever be able to say in Spanish.

Goosebumps ran all through his pelvis, electricity burning high. Not wanting to wait any longer, he pulled down his shorts and boxers, his cock jumping back lewdly to his stomach hung heavy.

It’d be impossible for Pablo to take it all in. It was probably like nine inches. Almost as long as his face. He compared the size of his cock to Gavi, pleasantly surprised about how pliant the man was being with someone who was spreading pre cum on his nose and cheek.

“Yeah, fuck that’s it, lick it. That’s what you want, right? Some good dick to keep you calm” He groaned, rubbing the fat tip of his cock into Gavi’s mouth.

Pablo gave his dick kitten licks, almost scared of the girth. It was so thick, Pablo would have to open his mouth completely to take it in.

Jude was not a patient man with people he hooked up with. He opened the other’s lips with his middle finger, forcing him to suck on the metaphorically offensive digit. Once he got tired of the sight of Gavi’s little mouth struggling, he lined up his cock with his mouth, grabbing Pablo by the back of his head.

There was no running back now.

Not when Pablo had his shirt on, looking absolutely oversized on him, with a hard on between his legs just by the proposition of sucking some madridista off in a storage closet.

Slut.

“Wait, no, it’s not going to fi-” Gavi choked on his cock, closed his eyes and tried to get Jude to back off.

He couldn’t. Bellingham was already fucking his mouth now.

Pablo’s mouth was hot and wet, his tongue laid flat at the bottom, just taking that dick like he could. His lips were made thicker rounding the thick girth of him, stretching his jaw painfully.

Jude sighed blissfully, the tight feeling felt amazing for him, like he was consumed by a pool of wet heat. Inch by inch, he pushed his cock inside, deeper and deeper, totally fixated on how overwhelmed Pablo appeared below him.

Where he belonged.

Pablo’s little hands rested on his thighs, trying to push him back. Didn’t work, he was already swinging his hips back and forward, chasing the high of Gavi’s mouth.

Gavi was gagging, making choked sounds every second, and his eyes were crossing towards his the bridge of his nose, disassociating a little.

Was he passing out? Jude could not care less. Maybe he’d use his mouth better that way. He looked dumb and out of it regardless.

But now that Gavi’s characteristically present strength was just shining by its absence, Bellingham could force him to deep throat, feeling his nose brush against his lower stomach, making it even harder for him to breathe.

Jude fucked his mouth roughly then, not pulling more than one inch out of his mouth, content on how Gavi’s uvula grazed his cock. The back of his throat felt amazing.

Gavi was struggling, trying to pull back, but Jude didn’t let him, cupping the back of his head forward with his arm.

“Take it, shit, don’t fucking pull back, yes, that’s it, good boy” He praised when Pablo stopped moving his head back.

Tears were forming in Pablo’s eyes. But he didn’t look sad, his honeyed eyes were full of lust, apparently he did have a thing for praise.

Something hot boiled inside of Jude exponentially, growing more and more, tensing the elastic until it was just about to snap.

He was so close. Gavi was now looking up at him, wet lashes, face dirty with pre cum and drool, tears too.

Every time Pablo moaned the vibrations went to his dick, stimulating him more and more. He wasn’t fighting anymore, his arms, like some sex doll, went down, letting Jude do whatever he wanted with his mouth.

Jude let out a grunt, rapidly increasing the rhythm of his hips moving, just abusing Gavi’s mouth. Pablo’s gagging sounds echoed on the walls, lewd symphony that Jude loved.

Loved how this was the right sequence of events that should happen. This was what he needed. To remind Pablo what he was really useful for, instead of some stupid tournament where he didn’t even play.

So, so close, he could almost taste the glory that was robbed out of him before on the pitch.

Jude Bellingham felt his orgasm all through his body and right out of his dick, felt how the cum spilled out of him in the most intense way that he ever experienced. The elastic band snapping inside of him, leaving his legs feeling like jelly.

He rode his climax with his cock bottomed out in Gavi’s mouth, his cum spilling right inside of his throat.

He quickly pulled out of Pablo, letting him finally breathe. The blaugrana player coughed roughly, almost throwing up all of the cum that he had inside of his stomach now, hands resting on the ground, not looking at him. Still coughing, tears came out of his eyes, Gavi was crying.

“Thank you, thank you, mnh” Pablo tried to say, his voice was completely destroyed and he was still almost about to vomit. He didn’t, he swallowed most of Jude’s cum back.

Pablo was a mess, his face full of fluids, puffy eyes and a fucked out expression, he was totally out of it.

Jude pulled his pants back up, grabbed a pen that was on the shelf and wrote his phone number on Gavi’s arm.

He took Pablo’s Spain jersey, put it on, and left him, to be found in that state.

(…)

A/N — Hi! I hope you liked this! I usually don’t write a lot in English because I don’t feel confident enough so I’m really hoping that this felt natural! If you have any feedback please let me know <3

[blackgirlwhowrites2k23]

Wusyaname? - Pablo Gavi

Summary: You were beauty personified; He just had to get your name.

A/N: Uploading multiple stories at once because I'm not on here as much as I want to be. Anyways, made it to med school! Sorry for taking so long, but the bills had to be paid😭. DC @cisqueenin

Trigger warning: Usage of Y/N 💀 --------------------------------------------------------------------

Camp Nou was alive. The rumbling, raging chants of "Barça! Barça!" roared through the stands, thunderous in a way that shook the entire stadium. Gavi jogged off the pitch, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. The air was electric, buzzing with the energy of all their fans celebrating Barcelona’s decisive 3-0 victory. He was basking in the glory of it all—three points secured, one thanks to himself, his team soaring in the league.  

But something was off.  

He felt it throughout the game, but now he could focus more on finding the source. 

As his teammates jogged ahead, laughing and slapping each other on the back, Gavi found his thoughts drifting. It wasn’t like him. Usually, he was so so laser-focused after a game, replaying key moments in his mind or thinking about how he could improve. Yet, as he neared the tunnel, something tugged at him—a strange, unexplainable pull that made him turn around.  

His eyes wildly scanned the stands, now a sea of red and blue with flags waved high, their vibrant colors flashing under the floodlights. Fans shouted, their voices hoarse from screaming all the screaming they were doing. He was always so grateful for the support he received; he literally bled red and blue and thankfully, so do they. Some leaned over the railings, the rails seeming to mold under the force of the fans,  while others snapped pictures to immortalize the night.  

And then, he saw her.  

She wasn’t waving or calling out, yet he still felt like she demanded his attention. Instead, she stood in the midst of the crowd, near some familiar faces, her laughter carrying over the chaos. It was a deep, uninhibited laugh that sent a wave of electricity through him as she playfully shoved the shoulder of a friend beside her. Her radiant skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, and the way she carried herself—calm, seemingly untouched by the frenzy around her—grabbed his attention and left him a little breathless. More so then he was after playing a 90 minute match, if you would believe it. 

She wore a Barcelona jersey (thank God!) that draped casually on her body, paired with some equally loose fitting jeans that she wore amazingly (simple; but Kounde would be proud). She wasn’t trying to stand out, but somehow, she was the only thing Gavi could see. Her smile lit up her entire face, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she tilted her head back in amusement.  

Gavi blinked, completely caught off guard. He wasn’t the type to get distracted—especially not by strangers in the stands. It was rare that he even paid attention to the crowd at all. But there was something about her. Something different. Cliche, yes. But man was it true.  

His chest tightened, and he felt an inexplicable need to keep looking, to memorize the curve of her smile, the way her hair framed her face like a halo. She seemed so... alive, so full of energy and joy. So- 

“Yo, Gavi!”  

Balde’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Gavi blinked and turned, his heart racing as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. It’s not illegal to look. He has eyes, he planned to use them.

Balde jogged over, a grin already forming on his face. His gaze followed Gavi’s line of sight, and the smirk deepened. “Ah, can’t say I’m surprised. That’s my girl’s best friend. They practically grew up together”  

“What?” Gavi’s cheeks heated instantly, and he quickly looked away, trying to act casual as he brushed the hair out of his face and then placed his hands on his hips. Real casual like. “I wasn’t staring.”  

“Sure, man.” Balde chuckled, his tone laced with mirth as he looked over Gavi. He clapped Gavi on the shoulder, the gesture light but teasing. “You’ve got good taste, though. My girlfriend is amazing, and you know what they say: birds of a feather flock together." He pauses to send Gavi a look as he rubs his chin, "I wonder what it says about me that we hang out together.”

Gavi rolls his eyes so hard that they almost roll out his skull. Maybe if they fall near her, she’ll help him put them back. “Ale, you’re hilarious. I’m surprised football is what you chose as a career and not comedy.”

Balde gives him a bright smile before he gets serious again. “She’s really cool. Not as cool as my lady, but her name’s [Y/N].”  

Y/N. The name lingered in Gavi’s mind, rolling around for a bit before settling into the back of his mind for later.  

“She’s not...” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence without sounding like he was definitely staring.  Which he wasn't.

“She’s single,” Balde answered, clearly reading his mind. “And no, she’s not like a crazy, obsessed fan, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  

“I didn’t ask that,” Gavi muttered, flustered.  

Balde shrugged, still grinning. “Come on, we’re heading out tonight. You should join us. We have an amazing win to celebrate.”  

Gavi hesitated. He wasn’t usually one for post-game outings, preferring to recharge alone after the intensity of a match. But it’s not like he had anything better to do. 

“Yeah,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Okay.”  

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next evening, Gavi found himself sprawled on Balde’s couch, a PlayStation controller balanced in his hands. The apartment was a whirlwind—conversation echoed off the walls, the soft hum of music played in the background, and the faint scent of takeout wafted from the kitchen.

Balde and his girlfriend, Nia, were cozied up on one end of the sofa, a blanket draped over their laps as they shared whispered jokes. Every now and then, their quiet laughter would bubble into something louder, making Gavi sigh dramatically.

Going out the day before hadn’t been as eventful as he had hoped. He had hoped to run into a certain someone, but of course he wasn’t so lucky. 

“Man, every time I hang out with you two, you guys make me feel like a third wheel,” he said, tossing the controller onto the couch seat next to him with a huff. “It’s like you’re doing this on purpose.”

Nia  tilted her head innocently, though her grin gave her away. “What do you mean? We’re just sitting here, minding our business.”

Gavi shot her a pointed look. “Oh, sure. Yeah, yeah. Can you maybe try a little harder at looking less in love,” He gestured vaguely at the two of them. “You’ve got a girlfriend, Pedri’s got a girlfriend, even Fermin is seeing someone. Meanwhile, I’m over here just... existing. Is it too much to ask for you guys to practice social distancing sometimes? At Least while your wonderful, single friend Gavi is over?”

Balde smirked, clearly enjoying his friend’s irritation. “You sound jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Gavi shot back, sitting up straighter. “I’m just stating facts. Being the only single one here is starting to feel like a full-time job.”

Across from him, Balde’s girlfriend laughed, nudging Balde playfully. “Poor Gavi. Someone needs to get this boy a date before he loses his mind.”

“Don’t look at me,” Gavi said, throwing his hands up in mock defense. “You’re the ones rubbing your picture-perfect relationship in my face.”

Her grin widened, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well,” she said slowly, dragging out the word as if she were revealing a secret, “since you brought it up, I might actually know someone.”

Gavi froze, immediately wary. His eyes narrowed. “Oh no. Whenever either of you gets an idea something always goes wrong. I don’t trust this. At all.”

“Relax,” Balde chimed in, leaning forward to grab his drink from the coffee table. “She’s cool. And I know you’ve already seen her.”

“What?” Gavi’s brows knit together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Balde’s girlfriend leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm as her grin turned downright devious. “The girl you just couldn’t stop staring at last night. You know, the one in the stands at Camp Nou?”

Gavi stiffened. His heart skipped a beat, and a flicker of embarrassment crossed his face. “I wasn’t staring,” he said quickly, his tone defensive. 

“Sure, Gavi,” Balde said with a knowing laugh. “We believe you. Totally.”

Gavi gives him a heat glare. “ And I can’t believe you told her I was staring.”

“He didn't have to tell me. I saw your love-struck puppy eyes from where I was sitting. You know, right next to her,” Nia corrects.

“ Yeah they were kind of hard to miss,” Balde adds, nodding sagely.

Ignoring Balde, his girlfriend continued, her voice warm and teasing. “Her name’s [Y/N]. She’s a good friend of mine. And, fun fact, she thought you were cute.”

Gavi blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “She... what?”

“She thought you were cute,” she repeated, her grin widening. “When I told her I knew you, she might have mentioned you seemed... interesting.”

“I’m not interesting,” Gavi muttered, though his attempt to brush it off lacked conviction.

Balde’s laughter grew louder as he draped an arm over the couch he and Nia shared. “You’re making this too easy. Look, just come out with us tomorrow. We’re all going to that spot downtown. No pressure or anything. Just a chance to hang out, get to know her.”

Gavi hesitated, chewing the inside of his cheek. He wasn’t sure if it was nerves, curiosity, or a mix of both, but the idea of seeing her again stirred something in him.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “What if it’s awkward? What if she’s nothing like what I’m expecting?”

“Then it’s awkward,” Balde’s girlfriend said with a shrug. “But I don’t think it will be. She’s great. You’ll see.”

Gavi groaned, leaning back against the couch as if the weight of their suggestion was too much to bear. “Fine,” he said after a long pause. “But if this goes horribly wrong, I’m blaming both of you.”

Balde grinned triumphantly. “You’ll thank us later.”

Gavi wasn’t so sure. But as he sat there, pretending to focus on the video game in front of him, his mind wandered back to Camp Nou, to the girl with the radiant smile and carefree laugh. Maybe—just maybe—this wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

The trendy bar in the heart of Barcelona was alive with energy, its dim lighting and pulsating music creating an atmosphere that was kinda relaxing. But Gavi was anything but. He trailed behind Balde and his girlfriend as they weaved through the crowd, the mingling scents of cocktails and cologne filling the air. Despite his usual confidence on the pitch, he felt a twinge of nerves creeping in. His palms were sweaty. Knees weak. Something about Mom’s spaghetti. This wasn’t a stadium full of fans or a post-match interview—this was different.  

“There she is,” Balde’s girlfriend murmured, tilting her head toward a corner table.  

Gavi followed her gaze, and for a moment, his breath hitched. You were even more stunning up close. You sat with an effortless grace, your fitted blue dress hugging your figure and accentuating your skin. Your curls framed your face in perfect harmony with your glowing smile, which lit up as you laughed.  

“Annnnnd, you’re staring. Nia, I think we lost him, babe,” Balde teased in a low voice, nudging Gavi.  

“Shut up,” Gavi muttered, his face warming.  

“Come on,” Balde’s girlfriend urged, pulling him forward with a grin that said she wasn’t going to let him back out.  

As they reached the table, the laughter faded, and you glanced up. Your eyes met Gavi’s, and for a heartbeat, the bustling bar seemed to melt away. There was a spark in your gaze—a warmth that felt both inviting and disarming.  

“Y/N, this is Gavi,” Nia said, beaming.  

“Hi,” You greeted, your voice smooth and confident, carrying just enough intrigue to make Gavi’s pulse quicken.  

“Hey,” Gavi replied, feeling uncharacteristically tongue-tied. He extended his hand, and your grip was firm yet soft, grounding him in the moment.  

Her lips quirked into a teasing smile. “You play for Barça, right? Small club or something?”  

Gavi chuckled, the icebreaker easing the tightness in his chest. “Yeah, something like that. You’ve probably never heard of it.”  

You laughed, a sound so genuine it sent a strange flutter through him. He heard it being caused by others. But now it was caused by him. He definitely wanted to hear it again.

They settled into seats, the initial awkwardness dissolving as the conversation began to flow. To Gavi’s surprise, you weren't just witty—you were sharp, quick on your feet, and unapologetically yourself. You asked him about his career but didn’t linger on it, seamlessly shifting the topic to music, travel, and your own passions.  

Hours passed like minutes. The hum of the bar became a distant backdrop as they found themselves engrossed in their own world. At one point, you tilted your head and smirked. “So, do you always stare at girls from the pitch, or was that a one-time thing?”  

Gavi felt his cheeks flush, his laugh betraying him. “I wasn’t staring,” he protested weakly, though his grin gave him away.  

“Right,” you said, your tone dripping with mock disbelief. “Well, either way, I’ll take it as a compliment.”  

Your playful confidence was refreshing, and Gavi found himself smiling more than he had in weeks. With you, he didn’t feel the need to impress or filter himself. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt seen—not as Gavi, the footballer, but as just Pablo.  

—-------------------------------

As the night wound down, the energy of the bar mellowed, and the group began to disperse. Gavi instinctively offered to walk you to your car, feeling reluctant to let the evening end. The streets outside were quieter now, the cool night air carrying a hint of the sea as they strolled under the glow of Barcelona’s streetlights.  

“Thanks for tonight,” You said as you both stopped beside your car. Your voice was softer now, yet still laced with that same effortless confidence.  

“No,” Gavi said, his sincerity catching even him off guard. “Thank you. I’m really glad I came.”  

You smiled, your gaze lingering on his for a moment longer than felt casual. “Maybe we’ll see each other again?”  

The hope in your voice mirrored the flutter in his chest, and Gavi found himself nodding, a rare shyness creeping into his expression. “I’d like that.”  

As you climbed into your car and drove off, Gavi remained on the curb, watching the taillights fade into the distance. A small, unshakable smile tugged at his lips. For the first time in a long while, he felt a new sense of anticipation—like he’d found something worth chasing, both on and off the pitch.  

[churchcrabs]

the first rule of fight club is gay sex

[thatwusialakid]

hey, here is grumpy pre euro wusiala, enjoy <3

[cuntycassandra]

Always thinking about their reunion <3

[xxplastic-cubexx]

When I watch X-Men First Class and see Cherik. For some reasons that idk why even. Please Please Please of Sabrina Carpenter suddenly their my theme song to them. Random but it is what it is 😭

yk if it was any time after first class i could see it ....... divorce and the cycle of breaking up and getting back together and all ....... the denial etc etc .....

[the-x-ladiesofnyc]

Learn Dominican Phrases with Eva. V 🇩🇴📕📖📓

What’s up? -> Qué lo que?

That way! -> Just point with your lips in a certain direction bro

I don’t know about that… -> Bueeeno…

A little -> Un chin

Thing -> Vania

You messed up/You fucked up -> Te jodiste

Bro -> Manín

Fine -> Ta bien

Awesome -> Jevi

Stop being annoying -> Para de joder

Something smells or Ew! -> Fo!

Getting hit on the head -> Cocotaso

~~

Those are just a few! Let me know what you think 💭

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @missstrawbs2001 @cherrysft @starkleila @buckysteveloki-me @ximehs @parisparker269 @yetanotherwells s @daughter-of-melpomene @fototingobug @ocappreciation @ask-starrk @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @wizzzardofoz @thechoooooosenone @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh @marvelsfavoriteuncle @elzabeth-stark @jackiequick @blueboirick @gcthvile @cherrysft @meiramel @trulysummersprivate @ethan-lensherr

[wishchip106]

i’m still just thinking about how in apocalypse the thing that stops magneto from destroying the world is an edit of charles just seeing the good in him.

🤨

not even his DEAD wife and daughter?

or maybe mutants from the brotherhood?

nope. charles

[eddysocs]

In Good Hands — Charlie Harper x Alan Harper x OC

Summary: While staying at Charlie's while she has a cold, Tessa gets the ultimate relaxation treatment from Charlie and Alan.

Word Count: 628

Warnings: Vague insinuation towards sex

Tessa had been crashing at Charlie’s house for a few days now. She wasn’t feeling well, and despite her protests, Charlie, wanting to make a good impression, had insisted she stay until she felt better. It was an offer Tessa couldn’t refuse, considering the cozy Malibu beach house and the company of both Charlie and Alan, who always knew how to make her laugh.

She lay sprawled out on the couch in the living room, a blanket pulled up to her chin. Her eyes were closed, trying to block out the headache that had been gnawing at her all day.

Alan wandered into the room, concern etched on his face when he saw how in pain she looked. “How are you holding up, Tessa?”

Tessa let out a heavy sigh, wishing this illness would just go away. “My body is one big ache,” she told him.

Alan frowned, sitting down at the edge of the couch. “Maybe you should see a doctor.”

Charlie sauntered into the room, a smirk on his face as he heard Tessa’s words. “Or,” he drawled, leaning against the wall with that familiar cocky grin, “I’ve got another solution that might help.”

Tessa opened one eye to look at him, already knowing where this was going. “Charlie…”

He shrugged, completely unfazed by her exasperation. “Hey, it’s a proven method. Endorphins, oxytocin, you name it. A little… exercise might be just what the doctor ordered.”

Alan rolled his eyes, shifting closer to Tessa and ignoring Charlie’s usual antics. “Or,” he said, “we could try something less… invasive. How about a massage?”

Tessa’s eyebrows raised slightly. “A massage?”

“Yeah,” Alan said, a little too eager. “I’ve picked up a few tricks over the years. You’d be surprised how good I am.”

Charlie snorted. “You actually believe that?”

Ignoring his brother, Alan gently took Tessa’s hand, his expression softening. “Come on, Tessa. Let me help you feel better. Just relax.”

Tessa hesitated but eventually nodded, too exhausted to argue. “Okay… but no funny business.”

“Scout’s honor,” Alan said with a small smile.

She cast the blanket aside for the time being and turned onto her stomach, adjusting the pillow beneath her head. Alan started with her feet, his hands surprisingly gentle as he worked through the tension.

“You are actually good at this,” Tessa murmured, surprised.

“See? Told you,” Alan said, a hint of pride in his voice.

Charlie watched them from the side, his smirk fading slightly as he realized he was being left out. He wasn’t one to back down, especially when he could tell Tessa was starting to relax under Alan’s touch. Without a word, he moved over to the couch and knelt down beside her head, his hands finding her shoulders.

“Can’t let Alan have all the fun,” Charlie muttered, starting to work his own brand of magic on her tense shoulders.

Tessa sighed softly, sinking further into the couch as both brothers worked together, surprisingly in sync. The combination of Alan’s meticulous attention to detail at her feet and legs combined with Charlie’s dexterous hands on her shoulders started to melt the aches away little by little, leaving her in a state of contented relaxation.

“This… this isn’t so bad,” Tessa admitted, her voice softening as the tension drained from her body.

“Not bad at all,” Alan agreed, his focus shifting now from her feet to her calves.

Charlie grinned, his hands still skillfully kneading out the knots in her shoulders. “See? Told you I had a solution.”

Tessa couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound muffled by the pillow. “You’re both insufferable.”

“Maybe,” Alan said, smiling, “but at least we’re helping.”

Charlie leaned down, whispering into Tessa’s ear with a playful tone, “Don’t worry, Tessa. You’re in good hands.” And she was.

For @sicktember

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @kmc1989, @curious-kittens-ocs, @fanficanatic-tw, @gcthvile, @kenjioharashotspot, @immyowndefender

[tl-trashtalk]

let me love you while the moon is still out

Relationship: Conor Bradley/Bobby Clark

Additional Tags: First Kiss, Hotel Sex, Shower Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Neck Kissing, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Smut, Fluff, Smut, Body Worship, Liverpool F.C., Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Summary:

“We won,” Bobby whispers, his blue eyes piercing. Conor has to look away. He turns his face back to the mattress, letting out a whooping sound, “We won!” Conor mimics. or the one after the win at Wembley.