#writing with lia

[stellylee]

WHO: Stelly & CLOSED!

WHERE: The Fun Spot, suburbs

WHEN: February 24, 2024

Volunteering to work the entire week after getting back from New Orleans had one major perk: the weekend off. And truly, there was nothing better to do on a Saturday night than hanging out at The Fun Spot. Pushing open the door, Stelly let out a laugh, looking over at their partner in crime for the evening. "It makes me feel like a kid all over again, coming here. Not that I grew up here, but just being around all the flashing lights and dinging sounds," not to mention the smell of nacho cheese and, well... beer. "What do you think, where do you want to start? Bowling? Roller-skating? Hit up the arcade?"

[liabugs]

that anon has me thinking what are the boys’ favorite positions to eat the cat

YES i have thought about this many times before

18+ MDNI SMUT AHEAD 🩷

Xavier — laying down

i love the idea of Xavier eating you out while you're lying on your back, and he's on his stomach with his arms wrapped around your thighs. your hands in his hair and his arms wrapped your thighs, keeping your legs open for him while he sucking on your puffy clit.

he def would grind his cock on the mattress... he can't help it, your taste makes him so hard it's painful :(

Rafayel — 69

as much as Rafayel loves pleasing you, he also loves receiving pleasure the same (if not more)

so with you lying on top of him, sucking his cock while he devours your little cunt? that's a one way ticket to rafayel cumming down your throat >.<

Zayne — on all fours

he loves when you get on all fours and he eats it from the back !! he will hold your legs to stop them from moving, your shaking when he starts to tongue fuck you... his nose nudging your swollen clit while your slick drips onto his lips

he would have you cumming on his tongue in a matter of minutes, rubbing circles on your hips for comfort :(

Sylus — sitting on his face

sylus just wants you to use him. he loves the way you think you have complete control over him, grinding on his face while he laps at your cunt. but he's not afraid to put you in your place !

he'll hold your hips in place while he makes you cum on his mouth over and over again, you would be so overstimulated :(

Caleb — on the edge of the bed

caleb loves to drag you to the edge of the bed when he eats you pussy, your legs folded so your feet are right at the edge. he loves when you squirm, but if you even think about bucking your hips into his tongue... slap! right to your clit.

because good girls have patience, and you're his good girl right?

[aethelwyneleigh27]

What they do while you get ready (Scenario)

TF-141 as your boyfriends

Simon "Ghost" Riley who's the type of boyfriend to love watching you do your makeup, your hair rolled up in the curlers while you finish up putting on some lip gloss. You'd look back once in a while to see him staring intently. He definitely plans more date nights out where he knows you like the food. Adores it when you leave kiss marks but would grunt and try to hide it, you know he loves it, he can never hide the slight lifting of the corner of his eyes. He doesn't have the heart to wipe it off unless you tell him to. His heart warms up whenever he sees an elder couple, hoping that one day, that would be you two.

John Price who's the type of boyfriend to be absolutely clueless about makeup but is extremely competent when you ask him to get something. He's a little ashamed to be asking the salesladies for anything the first time but would grow accustomed and finds that it makes it much easier. Genuinely loves buying things he thinks would look good on you and see you try it on. Like Ghost, he likes it when you leave lipstick marks, specifically in darker colors that pop against the skin of his neck. Doesn't care if his knees would give out, he'd help you put on your heels, kissing your knee before he does.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick who is the type of boyfriend to hype you up, he has a sassy mouth so expect him to give you the biggest hype anyone can ever do. He's also a go-with-the-flow kind of lover, he wasn't into skincare but was into a little haircare before you but now whenever you do your skincare, he joins in. The type of man to tease and laugh at you for wearing a clay mask then sulk if you put it on him too. He kisses you even if you whine and say you just put on lipgloss, promising to buy you more if you let him kiss off the rest. He helps you style your hair especially if you curly it.

John "Soap" MacTavish who is the type of boyfriend to be going in completely blind when it comes to anything that's on your vanity, but the thing is, he's willing to learn and hear you so passionately talk about what oxidizing is, cool and warm tone and other things you've said. He has this sketchbook dedicated only to sketches and art of you, his muse. He finds himself making them while you're doing your makeup, a peaceful pastime while his girl is dolling up. His favorite sketch of you was you with hair curlers messily clipped up in your hair while you put the last touch of lipgloss on your lips.

A/n: Hello my loves, guess who's back? 😉

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @duck-a-doodle @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @poohkie90 @drewsmusee @aleixis @yveevie

[goatsghost]

pros and cons of writing fanfiction:

pro: personalized fic right there, exactly fit to your specific tastes and headcanons

con: you have to write it

[pitchsidestories]

Drunken confessions II Katie McCabe x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1562

summary: After Arsenal’s UWCL win, Reader and Katie celebrate privately. But at the fan celebrations, a drunk Katie announces their relationship to the world. requested

author's note: hi everyone, this will be our second last fanfic about the UWCL final, after that there will be another one with Renée Slegers. Enjoy ! 🤍❤️

disclaimer: everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality.

The final whistle echoed through the stadium. Players dropped to the ground, whether it was from exhaustion, relief or frustration. The Arsenal fans erupted into deafening cheers. Their team had just beaten Barcelona in the Champions League Final.

You stood frozen in the middle of the pitch, catching your breath, barely able to comprehend what had just happened. Suddenly, you were sandwiched in a tight hug between Lotte and Alessia.

“I can’t believe it! We won! Against Barcelona!”, Lotte shouted, bouncing with excitement.

Alessia, on your side, added with a beaming face: “We did it!”

You shook your head in disbelief, trying to take everything in.

“Everyone was unreal today.”, you agreed, ecstatic.

Lotte grinned and ruffled your hair: “Especially you.”

“Honestly!”, Chloe chimed in, appearing out of nowhere to squeeze you from behind.

“Stop, girls. You’re making me blush.”, you protested with a laugh, wriggling out of their arms.

But Chloe just shot you an evil grin: “Good.”

“Good?”, you echoed, pretending to be offended.

Chloe smirked: “Yes, you look pretty with a blush and tonight you’re in need of a good fu-…”

She didn’t get the chance to finish. Your jaw dropped in shock, and you let out an embarrassed squeal.

“Chlo, not in front of the children!”, you hissed, nodding toward Rosa and Katie Reid who were just strolling past you arm in arm.

Chloe rolled her eyes: “They don’t know what I’m talking about.”

You quickly changed the topic, nodding toward the rest of the team as they moved toward the stands to thank the fans: “It’s time to celebrate now anyway.”

Subconsciously, your eyes scanned the pitch, looking for one particular person.

The celebrations on the pitch were incredible, but after the medals were awarded, the party moved inside the stadium for your own private party as a team.

Jess Glynne was performing, and you were dancing with Alessia, both of you buzzing with adrenaline.

“This is so fun. I still can’t believe it.”, you shouted over the music.

The striker nodded: “Me neither. One of the best nights ever.”

She turned to Lotte, waving her over: “Lotte, come and join us.”

“Coming.”, Lotte called, setting her glass down on a table and joined your little circle.

“Perfect.”, you grinned at her.

Until someone tapped your shoulder.

You turned around, suddenly standing face to face with Katie.

The Irish woman’s lips formed a perfect pout: “Hey. I didn’t get to celebrate with you at all tonight.”

“Sorry.”, you said.

While Jess sang Hold My Hand, Katie leaned in and whispered: “Let’s leave.”

“Yes, please.”, you replied, already smiling.

She laced her fingers through yours and pulled you from the crowd: “Come on.”

“Coming.”, you responded, letting her lead the way.

A laugh slipped out as you both ran through the hotel corridors. You tightened your grip on her hand: “Someone’s in a hurry.”

“Yeah, I am.”, she wasn’t shy to confess this, breathless and grinning.

“Lucky for you, love, you don’t have to wait any longer.”, you murmured, swinging open the door to your room.

Katie stepped inside and spun towards you, pressing a hungry kiss to your lips. She smiled against your mouth: “Good.”

You matched her kiss with growing heat, hands roaming instinctively to her waist.

The door clicked shut behind you.

You didn’t bother with the lights.

Her fingers found the hem of your shirt, slipping underneath as she pressed herself closer. Her breath was warm against your cheek as she mumbled: “Missed this.”

You smirked into her kiss: “Then don’t wait.”

You stumbled back towards the bed, tangled together in touches and low laughter, clothes gradually giving way to skin. The air between you grew heavier, charged. Her mouth was everywhere, slow, deliberate.

You gave in to her, to the moment, to the way everything else faded when it was just the two of you, celebrating the biggest moment of your careers together.

But the celebrations didn’t stop there, they had only just begun.

By Monday, your team was celebrating the trophy win with thousands of fans outside the Emirates Stadium. A sea of red and white stretched out before you. The air buzzed with chants, cheers, and the hum of pure, unfiltered joy.

Your heart melted at the sight of children in oversized jerseys, some bearing your name, other your teammates'. Their smiles were as wide as the banners waving above them.

You burst into laughter when you spotted Renée striking her iconic pose: cigar in mouth, just like that old photo from her Rosengård days.

“Oh my God, Renée.”, you called out, grinning.

“That’s our coach!”, Katie shouted, practically bouncing on the spot. She was living for this , the noise, the people, the madness, the life of the party in human form.

You smirked: “It is.”

“Fuck yeah!”, your girlfriend added, eyes gleaming with pride and maybe still a little drunk. You weren’t sure she’d sobered up at all since Saturday night.

But the crowd adored the brunette for it. And honestly, so did you.

Admittedly, Katie brought the party to the stage. But you had to intervene when she leaned over the barricade in front of the stage, letting the trophy dangle precariously in front of the fans.

“Katie!”, you shouted, immediately grabbing her arm and forcing her to pull the trophy back on stage.

“I’m good, I won’t drop it.”, she only laughed, completely unbothered.

“Sure.”, you said, raising your eyebrows, slightly relaxing now that the trophy was safely back on stage.

Katie turned to you, still grinning: “You can fucking trust me.”

You ignored her, placing the trophy into the safe hands of one of your goalkeepers. But when you turned back around, Katie had somehow gotten hold of a microphone and was now yelling something at the fans.

You cringed but let her continue for a few minutes.

“Okay, that’s enough. Let me hand that to another girl…”, you said gently, reaching for the microphone after another display of how drunk she actually was.

Katie shielded it quicker than you expected, shaking her head adamantly: “No. Let me talk to them!”

With a sigh you lifted your hands in defeat: “Okay, fine. One last song and then Lee will get the microphone, do you hear me?”

Leah just smirked from behind you: “Let her have fun.”

“But she’s so drunk. It’s a bit embarrassing.”, you laughed.

“Now everyone listen up!”, Katie suddenly yelled into the mic, way louder than necessary.

“Oh god.”, you muttered under your breath.

Leah shrugged: “It’s better than her trying to wrestle Kim.”

You chuckled: “Good point, poor Kimmy.”

You looked over to your captain but thankfully, she seemed to be enjoying herself.

“Y/n, come here!”, Katie’s voice suddenly rang out over the mic.

You froze: “What? Why?”

“Just come here.”, she urged again.

Slowly, you made your way over to her. “Okay?”

She wrapped her free arm around you, pulling you in close and shouted into the mic: “This is the girl that I love. My girlfriend!”

She planted a kiss to your cheek while your heart dropped for a second, like you missed a step on a staircase.

It went quiet for what felt like an eternity, only broken by the gasps of fans and your teammates alike. Until suddenly, the crowd bursted out into cheers.

You could feel the blood rushing into your cheeks.

You slapped her lightly on the arm: “Katie!” Not sure if you were actually mad at her or not.

She looked way too pleased with herself and handed the mic off: “Now Leah can have the mic.”

“You definitely had enough drinks to last days,” you said, suppressing a smile.

Your girlfriend chuckled: “For days? Don’t be dramatic. I’m Irish.”

“Yeah, I saw you and Emma proudly declaring your love for Ireland at the party.”, you recalled. The former goalkeeper had been a mentor to the defender for a long time now and was someone she now called a close friend.

Theatrically, Katie pressed a hand to her heart and solemnly declared: “Ireland, Arsenal, and you.”

At that moment, you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole. “That’s it, we’re going straight home afterwards.”, you muttered.

The Irishwoman rolled her eyes: “Boring.”

Her declaration of love hadn’t gone unnoticed by your teammates, who were burning with curiosity.

It was Leah who spoke up first, demanding answers: “No, first of all, you need to tell us everything! Why didn’t you tell us you were dating?!”

“You lot are noisy and annoying.”, Katie muttered.

“And you’re a lightweight. I’m never letting you live that cheesy line down.”, the blonde shot back.

Calmly, Lia looked up from her phone: “I don’t think you’ll have to. It’s already all over social media.”

Katie grinned, clearly pleased with herself. She tightened her arms around your shoulders: „Good, because this girl here belongs to me.” “I think we all got that now.”, Leah remarked, smiling.

That evening, your bedroom was filled with laughter and low light from the fairy lights. You turned to meet your girlfriend’s gaze: “I love you, you annoying idiot.”

“I know.”, she answered smugly.

Your lips met in a kiss, from which you broke away, swearing: “Jesus, you need to brush your teeth again!”

Katie just laughed, pulling you back in: “Get over it, you love me.”

And, despite everything, you really, really did.

[chocolate-mallowmelt]

god i hate writing fic, like what do you mean i’m now researching the history of bible translations in the 19th century midwest, i just wanted the blorbos to kiss

[hoon4lia]

Jealousy , Jealousy

paring: meandom!jungwon x bratty!sub!reader

synopsis: You went to a team dinner with your boyfriend, Jungwon. It should’ve been a fun night—but instead, he barely even looked at you. He was too busy talking to everyone else. So, if he wasn’t going to give you attention, maybe someone else would. And what better choice than the one person Jungwon can’t stand? A little harmless flirting never hurt anyone… right

warnings: oral sex, unprotected sex, jungwon is mean at first… but becomes nicer! finger sucking, size kink, overstimulating, praise kink, jungwon calls reader princess, baby, angel (ok this is where it goes downhill) slut, whore, and bitch, jungwon kinda slips the word mommy towards the end, riding, spanking, mentions of eunseok from riize, jungwon is mean when talking about eunseok (calm down this is all fake)

wc: Tbh idek

authors note: since this won the poll here you guys go! I might do a jay fic next or jake… ANYWAYS I’m very sick and I’m traveling so please excuse my writing <3 also this is not proofread (got inspired by two authors.. sadly I don’t have their @ I’m very sorry :()

enhypen taglist: open!!! send an ask to be added

The restaurant was loud, full of laughter and clinking glasses, you sat beside Jungwon, close enough to feel the heat of his arm, but not his attention. His focus was everywhere but… you. He was too busy talking to the others; joking with his teammates, throwing his head back when someone said something funny, like you weren’t even there. Your food untouched, your mood sinking by the second.

The past couple of days, he wouldn’t even talk to you—just short, cold replies. It felt like you were invisible. You get that he’s busy with work, but this wasn’t that. This was him choosing to act like you didn’t matter. Like you were nobody.

You tried. Tried touching his hand under the table, tried leaning into him when you spoke, but it was useless. He nodded, gave you a short smile, and turned back to the group like you were just another plus-one.

Fine.

You stood quietly, smoothing your dress, your eyes sweeping the restaurant until they landed on the bar. The bar was off to the side, lit by soft lights.. Without saying a word, you walked away.

You needed a drink and maybe a little attention.

Sliding onto a barstool, you caught the bartender’s eye, ordered something sweet and strong, and let your shoulders relax for the first time that night. You felt someone sit a few stools away, but didn’t look… until you heard the voice.

“Well, this is unexpected.”

You turned your head slowly, already knowing who it was.

Eunseok.

Of course it had to be him. Jungwon’s least favorite person. The tension between them was no secret; colder than ice in meetings, fake smiles during games, jabs passed off as jokes. You always stayed out of it. But right now? You didn’t mind stepping in.

“Is it?” you asked, swirling your drink as you looked him over. “I figured you’d show up eventually.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning in just a little. “Didn’t think I’d find you alone.”

You smirked. “Neither did I.”

The corners of his mouth lifted, just slightly, and that’s when you knew: he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asked.

You just nodded, knowing you never let anyone buy you drinks unless it’s Jungwon.

And across the room, you didn’t have to look to know Jungwon had finally noticed.

You took a slow sip of your drink, eyes still on Eunseok. He didn’t look away either.

“You’re really just gonna sit here alone?” he asked, voice low. You gave a small shrug. “Better than sitting next to someone who doesn’t notice I’m there.” you said with a frown.

He smiled at that. Not a wide grin, just enough to show he understood. Or maybe enough to show he enjoyed hearing it.

“Jungwon’s a fool,” Eunseok said, turning his glass in his hand. “I would’ve noticed you right away.”

Your eyes narrowed, but your lips curled up anyway. “Would you?”

He nodded, still watching you like you were something interesting. Something worth seeing. You didn’t respond. You just let your fingers trace the rim of your glass, slow and soft. You could feel it; Jungwon’s stare from across the room. And maybe it made you feel a little guilty. But maybe it also made you feel seen.

Eunseok leaned in just a bit closer, like he had something more to say. “You know… if you’re bored, I could help with that.”

You laughed under your breath. “I bet you could.”

5 minutes past by, you were wondering why jungwon hasn’t said anything or dragged you out the bar.

So.. you went a little far and let Eunseok touch you a little—his hand on your shoulder or on your thighs while you guys laughed and giggled.

Behind you, a chair scraped loudly against the floor.

You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

You didn’t turn around right away.

You just took another sip of your drink, keeping your eyes on Eunseok, who was clearly enjoying this more than he should.

Then you heard the steps.

Slow. Heavy. Getting closer.

Eunseok looked past you, smirk widening. “Looks like someone finally woke up.”

You turned slightly on your stool, just in time to see Jungwon stop a few feet away, jaw tight, eyes locked on you like you were some kind of puzzle he didn’t like the look of.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice low. Calm, but sharp. You gave him a sweet smile. “Getting a drink.” you answered softly. Jungwon frowned, “With him?” You raised your eyebrows. “You seemed busy.” His eyes flicked to Eunseok, then back to you. “So you ran to him?”

Eunseok sat back in his seat, looking way too pleased. “She didn’t run. She walked. Calm, like she had a reason.”

Jungwon’s eyes darkened. “No one asked you.”

“Didn’t have to,” Eunseok said smoothly, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Your silence said a lot.”

The tension was thick now, heavy in the air between all three of you. You stayed quiet for a moment, then stood up, fixing your dress with one quick motion.

But Jungwon had enough.

You barely made it two steps before you felt his hand wrap around your wrist.

Firm. Yet gentle. No words, just action.

“Jungwon—” you started, but he didn’t let you finish.

He pulled you with him, past the bar, past the tables, past the team pretending not to watch. His grip wasn’t rough, but it was tight. Like he couldn’t trust himself to let go.

The cold air outside hit you fast. The sound of the door slamming behind you echoed through the quiet night. He didn’t say a word as he walked you across the lot, straight to his car.

He opened the passenger side and looked at you. No anger. No smile. Just eyes full of something sharp, wild, and unreadable.

He didn’t have to say anything.

You got in.

Because how could you not after seeing him like that?

He slammed the door shut and stormed around to the driver’s side, yanking it open and sliding in beside you. His jaw was locked, his hands gripping the wheel like he might snap it in half.

You just sat there, legs crossed, not a care in the world.

“Gonna drive or just sit there all night being jealous?” you asked, eyes wide with fake innocence.

He didn’t answer.

So you smiled. “Or wait, are we just gonna sit here in silence while you try to figure out how to tell me you’re jealous without actually saying it?”

His head turned slowly, eyes sharp.

You tilted yours, biting your lip. “You looked cute back there. All grumpy and quiet while I laughed at Eunseok’s jokes.”

He didn’t say anything, but the muscle in his jaw twitched. Losing his tie.

You leaned closer, voice sweet but sharp. “Didn’t like that, huh? Didn’t like seeing me talk to someone who actually looks at me when I speak?”

Still nothing.

So you giggled. “You’re mad, but you’re the one who ignored me all night. I just got a little bored. Is that a crime?”

Finally, his voice came low and tense: “You want attention?”

You shrugged, smiling way too wide. “Mhm. And I got it.”

He stared at you, breathing a little heavier now.

“You want attention?” he said again, voice low, like he was warning you.

But you just smiled, leaning back in your seat like you’d won.

“Mmhm. Thought I made that clear,” you said, dragging out the words, smug. “But if you need me to spell it out for you—”

He suddenly unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned across the center console, fast.

Your breath hitched.

His hand caught your chin, tilting your face toward him, not rough, but not soft either. His eyes were dark, focused, and way too close.

“You think this is a game?” he said quietly. “Flirting with Eunseok, laughing in my face, acting like I wouldn’t do anything about it?”

Your lips parted, but no words came out.

He let out a small laugh, cold and sharp. “You’re so damn proud of yourself right now, aren’t you?”

You blinked up at him, still trying to play tough. “Maybe. You never seem to care unless I act like this.”

He leaned in closer, voice brushing against your skin. “That’s because you like pushing me. You want a reaction? You like when I get like this.”

You swallowed, heart racing. Still refusing to back down. “And what if I do?”

He smirked, hand still on your face. “Then you better be ready to deal with what you started.”

Jungwon held your gaze for one long second, eyes dark, jaw tight, then let go of your chin without a word. He leaned back, clipped his seatbelt into place, and started the car.

The drive was dead silent.

You didn’t say anything. You knew better now.

He didn’t even glance your way the whole ride. Just one hand on the wheel, the other tapping lightly on his thigh like he was trying to keep himself in check. You shifted in your seat, legs crossed tight, eyes fixed out the window, but your stomach flipped every time the car turned.

When he finally pulled into the driveway, he cut the engine and stepped out without saying a word.

Your door opened a second later. His hand reached in.

“Out,” he said, calm but sharp.

You got out.

He didn’t give you time to play this time. Just grabbed your wrist again, tight, certain and led you inside.

The door slammed shut behind you.

Still silent.

No lights on except the faint glow from the hallway.

You didn’t even make it five steps into the house before his hand left your wrist and found your waist instead, steering you fast, straight toward the bedroom.

He sits on the edge of the bed while you stand in front of him. “Strip.” his voice low, giving you goosebumps. “W-what” you replied, blushing like crazy. “I said fucking strip.”

Your fingers fumbled at the zipper of your dark red dress. But your hands wouldn’t work right…not under the weight of his stare. You tugged at the zipper, frustrated, and let out a small huff.

Behind you, Jungwon stood up.

You didn’t even need to turn to feel it—his presence, his heat, the way the air shifted the second he moved.

A scoff.

“God,” he muttered, voice cold. “You can’t even do one thing right?” Before you could shoot back, he was already in front of you—hands on your hips, spinning you around with ease.

Then one hand slid up your back, smooth and slow, and you felt his fingers grab the zipper. He pulled it down in one slow motion. The sound filled the silence.

His breath hit the back of your neck, warm, heavy, and you couldn’t stop the shiver that ran through you.

You stayed still. Quiet. Waiting.

“Sorry,” you whispered, not turning around. “But you didn’t seem to care when I did—”

Before you could finish Jungwon cut you off, leaning in to your ear, as you dress dropped to the floor, leaving you in your bra and panties. “Oh, trust me,” he said low, voice brushing your skin. “You’re about to find out what happens when you do.”

He sits back down on the bed, looking up at you. “Get on your knees.” And you did… cause how could you not when he looked like that.

“Fucking slut.” He muttered. “Letting other men touch you, mm?” your hand land on his thighs, eyes looking up at him. “Take it off” he whispered. You unbuckle his belt and then take off his pants along with his boxers. The clothes joining your dress, somewhere on the floor.

You grab his cock in your both your hands. He was leaking with pre-cum, making your thighs squeeze together. You give it a little kitten lick, but he wasn’t having it.

“You wanna tease me? After all you did tonight?” He scoffs. “Your fucking asking for it” he grabs your hair into a ponytail “Open that filthy mouth, princess”

He forcefully pull your head down his length. Not allowing adjust to it. Jungwon begins to face fuck you. Moving his hips back and forth, pushing his cock down your throat as far as it could… and he was fucking huge. You gagged, tears threatening to fall already.

“Making me look like I don’t have good dick” he voice deep. He was pissed. “So fucking needy for my attention, you needed to find new dick?” He groans when you try to move your head away. “Mmm!!” You try to speak but you can’t due to his dick stuffed in your mouth “What’s that baby?” He lets out a laugh.

You tap his thighs trying to get out of this. He keeps moving his hips back and forth while you clench around nothing. He hits the back of your throat, releasing his load in your mouth before letting you fall back to the floor.

“Swallow” and you for surely did.

He grabs your wrist, pulling you up. “Get on the bed” all you do is nod, following his order

You were sitting on top of him, your back on his chest. He takes off your bra, and panties, as his fingers slide across your folds. “W-won!” You squeeze your thighs together with his hand in between. “Uh-ah. Open your legs, angel”

He grabs your thighs, ripping your legs open. “Be a good girl for me” he starts drawing circles on your clit. “Fuck, w-wonnie” but that lasts one second before he grabs your chin and kisses you. The kiss was full of each other saliva and heat. “You’re so fucking hot” you moan out in the kiss. He smiles against the kiss, kissing you even harder.

His finger slide into you making you moan out loud. You pull away from the kiss looking at him. “Tell me baby” he mutters “are you wet because of eunseok, mm?” you shake your head, not trusting your voice. “Use your words, angel” you whimper when he goes faster “fuck! N-no.. only wet for you!” you manage to say. “Good”

Right when you were about to cum, he pulls his fingers out. “Jungwon!” you whine, when he put his finger in your mouth, making you taste yourself “You didn’t think I’d let you cum that easily?” he laughs at you.

Your hand goes down to your pussy, rubbing circles on it trying to make yourself cum but jungwon stops you. “Did I say you could cum?” You look up at him and shake your head.

He flips you over.

Face down ass up.

He lines up at your entrance.

Pushes in… but stops

“Fuuuuckk” he moans out. “So fucking tight.” “W-won.. please f-fuck me.” he smirks

“Beg.”

You whine, when he grabs your arms and places them on your back, one hand on your wrists. “Fucking beg for it like you were begging for my attention earlier” he says but you were still quiet—whimpering.

Then he pulls out, tapping his dick on your ass. “I said beg” his voice in an annoyed tone. “Please.. fuck! Please wonnie! Fuck me.. fuck my hole please” he smirk against your begging “Want me to fill you up?” He asked “Yes, breed my hole” he scoffs, thrusting into you again, slapping your ass.

The room filled up with your moans, jungwons groans, the sound of skin slapping.

“God, fucking love cute little pussy” he drags his cock through you. “Such a fucking bitch for talking to him. His nothing compared to me, you know that” you scream when he goes even faster then ever. “Quite down, angel don’t want people complaining about us” He hits your g-spot. “Fuck! Right there won!” Another slap goes to your ass.

“Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” you nod fast and he scoffs. “Doing so good for me, love you so fuck much” he says against your ear.

“Your fucking mine.”

“This pussy is mine.”

“Your mine to touch, to feel, to fuck, to kiss”

“You understand?”

You nod against the mattress. Jungwon grabs your wrist pulling it up, holding on to you while he pounds into your pussy.

“Who do you belong to you?” his voice low and steady. “Hurry up and answer.” He moans when you clench around his cock. “And maybe I’ll let you —fuuckk— cum”

“You! I belong to you!” you replied. “I’m all yours!”

Jungwon picks you up making you sit on top of him. You slide down on his dick.

This time he fucks into you, like he never did before. He was fast, his eyes darkened—never leaving yours. But you couldn’t help but blush and look away when he stared into your eyes. “Look at me, baby” his hands find your tits, his grip gentle. He sucks on one of your nipples while his other hand played with your other one. All while splitting you open.

“You gonna cum?” he said against your breast. your hands in his hair “yes, please can I cum..!” He moans when you said that “such a good girl for asking” he looks up at you with his eyes while licking your nipple. “Oh my god jungwon!”

“Cum for me, baby” and you most definitely did. Moaning so fucking loud when he bit your nipple when you came. “Shiiit” you whined. But it didn’t stop there. Jungwon came back up, his hands finding your hips.

You fall on your back, his cock slipping out of you. “Too much won” your legs were aching but jungwon was still hard.

“Gonna cum again, with me this time okay?” He said, tilting his head like it was a question even though you knew he was gonna make you, no matter what.

“T-too much, won..” you manage to say your voice cracking. Jungwon pouted “but baby.. you’re gonna either way” he let out a little laugh, his knees in the mattress, spreading your legs and pushing back in.

“Jungwon I can’t!” you screamed “Yeah you can, baby” he says softly “Take it. Take it like the slut you are” he fucks into you, like he never fucked someone. Your moans stuck in your throat, you lips were parted but nothing came out.

“Nghh” jungwon whimpered “g-gonna cum in you.. gonna breed this pussy gonna give you all my fucking babies, make you the best mom ever” you giggled when he started rambling. “Fill me up, wonnie” that was his cue. You both come together.

He fills your walls up with his white warm liquid. Every drop of his cum. “I love you mommy” you choke on you spit “w-what?” Jungwon lifts his head “fuck- I’m so sorry” you giggle “shh, it’s okay, lay on mommy”

He drops down on top of you.

His head was in your neck, whimpering like a puppy in heat.

“your mine.. ngh” his cock twitched in you “Eunseok doesn’t deserve you…” you giggle “I’m all yours baby I promise” he looks at you, and you put your hands on his cheeks. “Don’t do that again, if you want my attention just ask” you nod, laughing. “noted” you say and kiss his lips.

——————

v sorry for the delay <3 enjoy!

[sjywrites]

༊*·˚ FIGHT OR LOSE LOSS

𝓖enre. angst. 𝓢ypnosis. fighting with some of the aot characters over something stupid before leaving for a mission, but never getting the time to clear it up. 𝓒𝓦 . major character death.

𝓝ote. I wrote for some of the other characters too but I can only add 10 pictures :( lmk if you want those!

--_'°~=-.--

this is so bad and probably has a gazillion spelling mistakes but I had some inspiration to write and I feel like I have starved you all for soooo long so it was about time I posted something 😓

[nr1chaedickrider]

"you're taking it so well for me, baby."

she emphasizes the petname in a teasing tone, praising you as you grip her shoulder, your nails digging into her skin.

the burning sensation your nails leave on her skin turns ryujin on even more.

the back of her head hits the wall as she looks up to you.

"you look so pretty for me"

"on my lap like such a pretty girl"

you let out another moan, getting used to the stretch as you finally start moving.

"mhm fuck-" you moan out, not being able to keep eye contact with her as you throw your head back.

it all started with a simple photo yuna posted.

which turned into a steamy make out on the couch.

and now you're riding her strap.

she still has her jeans on, the black adidas sports bra fits tightly on her chest.

"look at me my love" she whispers, placing soft kisses on your neck.

you move your head to her command, looking at her.

she starts grinning, her hands on your waist.

"god you're so pretty"

"kinda wish i could show you off to everyone."

she thrusts her hip up, making you scream a little.

"fuck ryu- im gonna-"

"gonna cum for me my love? come on, do it. wanna see you finish all over me."

you keep riding her, nails still scratching her, for a moment you even think you saw some blood.

you lean forward and kiss her, moaning into her mouth as you cum all over her.

"maybe we should finally take this to the bedroom, hm?" she whispers.

[sweetsbylia]

cruel world

pairing: finnick o’dair x district12!victor!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of: forced prostitution, violence, and death but not described, established relationship, kissing, pet names (sweetheart, love, honey etc.), one slightly dirty joke, other characters mentioned, usual thg stuff, set in catching fire

a/n: uhhhhh i’ve been writing this for two weeks now, just couldn’t get myself to finish it, it’s here now tho so enjoy!!! ALSO IM THINKING ABOUT MAKING THIS A SERIES WHAT DO WE SAY?? (divider by @dollywons)

word count: 4.6k

finnick o’dair thought that he will never feel worse than when he was reaped for his games, barely at fourteen years old having to fight for his life in an arena with twenty three other kids. when he won his games and had to live with the heavy weight of the lives he took or when he was being sold and used by the capitol ever since he was fifteen.

that all changed when finnick met her. the love of his life with the same fate. a victor that was desirable for capitol’s citizens. a big mistake. he felt horrible whenever she was pulled from his arms to be used by violent, greedy men.

the feeling that beat those was when the quarter quell was announced. finnick he was the only male victor in district four and when mags, his mentor, volunteered as tribute for his friend annie cresta it was even worse.

finnick put on the typical mask of arrogance and pride, smiling into the cameras while his eyes hid fear and worry, his mind begging for his girlfriend not to volunteer, as he watched the screen from the justice building in his district.

“as always ladies first.” effie said into the microphone, cameras pointing at her face as they finally streamed the last of the twelve district. it was different this time, sadder. everyone was confused, heartbroken and angry.

katniss’s name was called and before anyone had the time to process it, the only other remaining female victor immediately raised her hand.

“i volunteer.”

finnick’s vision went black, he suddenly felt nauseous and sick. he didn’t know if he wanted to strangle her or hold her and never let her go. probably both.

the train ride was a lot less calmer than two years ago, when you were reaped at sixteen years old, as a tribute for your district.

the setting was quite familiar, really, haymitch was trying to drink himself into oblivion as always, effie was speaking about manner and being a team, peeta was quiet probably bracing the probability of death more than last year and you were thinking about finnick. what he’s gonna say, what are you gonna say, everything.

you wouldn’t really blame him if he was gonna get mad at you. you would too. you had the chance to not go back, yet you decided you will. although, you knew finnick would do the same in your place, katniss had a family she had to take care of, you had only finnick and friends, that all were going to the arena as well, making you wonder, how could anyone think you’d stay home and just watch? a lot of people would, but not you.

the train finally stopped in the capitol and from the window you saw people on the station, screaming and cheering and waving, greeting you and peeta. you just gave a fake smile, before disappearing behind the curtains again and following after effie to the exit.

deep breaths. in and out. your brain repeated to you, as you walked through the familiar hallway, hand in hand with peeta, showing each other support, through a little gesture.

“they all know each other, have been friends for years which gives you two a disadvantages since y’re newbies, try to make a good impression and allies, that is the most important.” he warned looking straight at you and not at peeta at all.

“but- that makes no sense, getting too close to them will just give them an opportunity to kill us right away.” you argue with your mentor.

“sweetheart, if you two stay alone, they’re gonna hunt y’ down, immediately. say what’cha want but i know these people.”

“how can we even trust them?” you throw your arms defensively, sitting on the chair, in between your blonde friend and effie.

“hey, c’mon…” peeta tried to convince you. of course he thought that your trust issues were valid, but he also understood that if you wanted to live at least after the bloodbath, you’d have to make alliances with some of the other victors.

“it’s not about trust it’s about staying alive.” haymitch gave you a strict, pointed look, ending the debate, placing the empty glass that smelled of whiskey, back at the table.

after the talk with haymitch you both were send to your quarters before your prep teams would call you and discuss the opening ceremony.

the elevator felt too small, too slow and too hot to keep your nerves in check. you knew you wouldn’t be able to calm down until seeing finnick, yet everything around you was making it even more unbearable, the feeling of being pressed together into a little ball, like the walls would close around your body, squishing you together.

“see you later?” your blond district partner’s voice echoed in your ear, taking you out of your thoughts and you give him a brief nod of agreement as an answer. if it was not for him maybe you wouldn’t even notice that the elevator’s door clicked open at your destination.

walking into your room, you slump on the bed, diving back into your restless mind. the room was just so capitol like. modern and luxurious, brightly coloured. a king sized bed places in the very middle of the chamber, a lone painting of the city’s skyline hung on the wall, soft carpet covered the first three feet of a measure from the edge of the bed so coldness of the floor would not be the first thing waking you up in the morning as if to make up for the coldness of the room on it’s own. there was nothing personal, nothing idiosyncratic that would make it imperfect, that would make it human and feel like home.

the swirls of your own brain would maybe swallow you whole if there was not a knock on the door and then a face of your district’s escalator appeared.

“sweetie, be ready in few down at the hall, pleas. also, special someone is waiting for you.” effie smiled, and her eyes held a sparkle of mystery. oh, how much she rooted for you and finnick, how much she rooted for katniss and peeta. she tried to hide it, but you were an observant person and the lessening ignorance from her was just making you like her more but you understood the importance of keeping up a mask.

“thank you, effie.” sparing her a small smile, watching her leave, you walked toward the mirror that decorated one part of the wardrobe’s door. you fixed the mess your two braids had become and tied the bows of ribbon on each side again. it was there to ground you. maybe you were crazy, but that little flashes of colour in the grey and dusty district you grew up in, were giving you hope. hope that not everything was black and white and that there was a way out. you hoped they would work the same in here. to remind you where you’re from, that fighting is a second nature to you.

impatiently stepping, from foot to foot, in the elevator you waited for it to get to zero. you didn’t know why you felt so sick. you did this before. you can do it again, right? maybe if finnick’s fallen, worried face wasn’t the first thing you saw when the elevator let you into the lobby, where prep teams were supposed to pick up their victors in no time, those affirmations would’ve been more affective. just maybe.

puffing out your chest, straightening your back, and walking towards the group of much older and skilled victors with confidence seemed like a good idea second ago, the other second when enobaria pierced through you with her gaze, not so much. you had a deep respect for that woman.

swallowing down you walk up to the other duo standing there. you counted five victors in total, which was not much, but you assumed others were or requested to be escorted from their private rooms. few meters from the career pack, there was no one other than finnick with mags next to him.

finnick chatted with his career co-victors for a while, trying to appear as indifferent and as charming as he always is. there was no way for him and you to be in a public relationship, no. it’s been just a secret between you and your closest friends. you did try to hide it from snow, but he found out in a matter of weeks anyway. surprisingly he let it slide, a thought forming in his head how great of a extortion method this could be for him.

“i won’t look into what you do in private, but for everyone else, you and her have to appear available and willing, mr. o’dair.” snow’s voice ringed in finnick’s head often, killing him from the inside like a parasite.

a good way to describe president snow, who always found ways to hurt and destroy more and more. increasingly often you and finnick found yourselves escorted at the capitol from your districts, to satisfy the greedy clients that simple objectified and violated you, leaving you feel used and dirty.

finnick had a comforting arm around mags’ shoulders, few moments after excusing himself from the conversation with the other careers, waiting for their prep teams. a familiar sounding footsteps echoed through the room, familiar scent lined through the air as you neared him, finnick adverted his eyes from mags’ looking up so he was met with a warm, soft but confident gaze of his lover.

he wanted to run to you, take you into his arms and kiss you senseless. instead he just gave you that warm smile, waiting. he was still upset about earlier events but also incredibly understanding and content to see you alive.

giving a brief nod of acknowledgment to the careers you hurried to hug finnick, while trying to make it look like he wasn’t the love of your life or something.

“finnick.” you breath out loud in relief almost, leaning up to wrap your arms around his neck, feeling his muscular arms envelop you once again after all the long weeks of being out of reach, just relaying on a belief the other one was safe.

“my love…” he whispered softly, almost inaudibly so no one would hear, but you did and that was enough.

he didn’t wanted to pull away from you, almost felt like he physically couldn’t until you did, leaning back, taking away the warmth you provided for the brief moment the embrace lasted.

“hi mags.” you greet mags, the wonderful old lady you’ve grown so much to, finnick’s mentor and the female tribute for district four. she returned your hug, giving you a smile, her gentle motherly hand brushed your cheek.

the next day the training began, you were given your training suits and alongside peeta, you walked into the training room. so similar to how you remembered it. the survival stands, fighting matts and of course simulators, for archery, knife throwing, sword fighting and much else.

you part ways with your district partner, for now, walking around slowly, trying your hardest to smile at the other occupants of the room, but most, just hissed or glared at you, until by the corner of your eye, you caught those crazy geniuses from the third district or whatever haymitch said, struggling to make a fire.

“you should move your hands downward and faster.” you try to advice putting a smile on your face, as you tried unnoticeably take a closer look at the pair, sitting down next to them, watching beetee try again.

“a little brutal force..” wiress gasped as she saw the smoke coming out of the wood.

“is always helpful. thank you.” beetee finished the line for his district partner and smiled at you, pushing his glasses back on his nose.

“by the corner of the table.” the female tribute whispers mysteriously, making you look up at the balcony, the gamemakers watched you from like hawks analysing their preys. you squint your eyes trying to figure out what was wiress talking about, so you ask.

“plutarch?” the head gamemaker had talked to you, at the victor’s party very briefly, few momths ago, but wiress shook her head and beetee seemed to be only remaining from the trio to catch on what his co-victor was talking about.

“force field.”

“how do you know?” you ask curious, scanning the area, but you just didn’t know what to catch onto.

“the shimmering. top left side.” beetee explained lightly turning your head towards the imperfect edge of the figurative border, “you see it?”

you nod along, fascinated by the occurrence. “almost like glass.” you commented.

“it separates them from us.” wiress sighed and you frowned knowingly.

“i know who’s fault that is..”

“electro-magnetic.” beetee stated after analysing the force field for few another seconds.

“how can you tell?” you ask again, confusion settling in your expression a they laughed. “is it obvious or something?” you pout almost as they giggled some more while you were trying to figure pit if there was something you were missing.

“they might as well put a sign there.” wiress laughed some more as beetee tried to explain it to you.

“look around, the holograms, the lights, every once a while, they flicker. why?”

“because the force field is taking up too much energy.” you answer, nodding understandingly, feeling a little better after seeing his pleased smile at your correct answer.

“there’s always a flaw in the system.”

and that made you think for few seconds, just about how true that was, but before you could dive too deep into those waters, by the corner of your eye, you caught mags, making fish hooks. you excuse yourself politely, from the district three victors and made your way towards the eldest mentor and this years tribute.

your gaze scanned over her creations. you knew how to make those, because finnick taught you some time ago, it came in handy a lot, you just wanted an excuse to talk to her.

“volunteering for annie was really brave.” you say standing next to her, giving her a soft encouraging smile.

mags just shook her head, her gentle hand touching your chest, which was your answer. you knew what she meant. that she admired your bravery to volunteer for your best friend instead.

before you had a chance to say anything else, finnick appeared behind you with a trident and a rope in his hand, grinning, like he was having the time of his life.

“you know this is the best knot you can know in the arena.” the blonde said hanging a noose around his neck.

you just gave him an unimpressed look but barely could fight back the smile as you were looking at him, knowing full well that was his only intention beside showing off.

“don’t look at me, look at the knot.” he chuckled as he tried to lecture you, dramatically tugging on the end of the rope, towards you.

“hilarious.” you comment, crossing your arms over your chest, but an amused smile was plastered on your face, reaching your eyes even.

“do you wanna take me for a walk?” finnick cocked his eyebrow, while keeping his tone light, his bronze waves already were a mess after his training, and maybe you even would if it wasn’t for the given circumstances so you just roll your eyes over him coyly, walking past him, for your chosen weapon to train more your skills.

“oh, really?” you heard finnick’s voice call behind you and you just had to smile for yourself before focusing on the task at hand again.

“good news.” haymitch walked into the lounge room of their floor that peeta and you were occupying, stopping right in from of the couch you were sitting on.

“more than half of the tributes want you as their ally.” haymitch said, arms folded over his chest, but what he said, was meant as a praise, he was relieved you made a good impression.

“well they saw her fight.” peeta said, standing next to haymitch, mentioning how you left everyone speechless at the training earlier today after showing your chosen skill in full swing.

“well sweetheart, who’s your pick?” haymitch asked expectantly before muttering under his breath. “beside o’dair of course..”

“i want wiress and beetee.” you say without much thinking, blinking as you saw haymitch’s expression shift ever so slightly.

“johanna calls them nuts and voltes.” your district partner comments, not so sure with your choice of allies.

“well honey, who’s else?” haymitch tried again, his last hopes mirroring in his eyes.

“mags.” you shrug softly almost pouting at the looks you have gotten from your mentor and co-tribute.

haymitch swallowed, hard. looking at peeta who was right now rethinking all his life choices before looking back at you.

“i’ll tell them y’re still makin’ up your mind.” he settled on before walking back towards the elevator.

soon enough the prep teams plugged out their victor, to make them look as significant as attractive and as glorious as they can. you were waxed off of all your additional body hair beside those on your head. they bathed you, scrubbed and soaped up your body with the expensive products that held rich scents of vanilla, strawberries and sweet cakes.

it didn’t take more than hour before cinna walked through the door of the room where you were supposed to wait for him.

“cinna..” you hug him, your hair still wet. he was the first person from the capitol, you ever trusted. he was a great stylist and even greater man. as a stylist for district twelve, he dressed both you and katniss for your games.

breathtaking, mesmerising, magnificent, enchanting and just simply beautiful. all those words could describe the dress you wore. white, wedding like, but incredibly revealing even if they were floor length. that’s how you first would call it, they wanted you to be desirable. you knew why. you knew it was all president snow, teasing, poking and provoking. it was just so him.

“and if i die in that arena, my last thought will be of your lips.” you watched finnick say on the stage, next to caesar flickerman, and god did it sounded so fake. the audience swooned, some of the other victors beside you made disgusted faces and you, you were the only one in the room, knowing it was real.

flickerman sent him off the stage with a laugh, and called the female tribute from district five on the stage. the victors kept changing and before you could listen more to johanna’s screaming, finnick’s voice stole your attention away.

“break a leg, or whatever you say in twelve.” the typical arrogant smirk decorated his perfect face as he snickered, throwing yet another sugar cube into his mouth, you knew it always did ease his nerves.

“maybe johanna will break his leg.” you mutter adverting your gaze to johanna mason, raging on the podium. when finnick introduced you to her first, you found her hard to trust, but soon enough you got used to her unpredictable, fierce nature. your calmer and rational thinking was a great contrast to your friendship.

the observation earned a chuckle from finnick as he took a little step closer to you, looking at you with his sea green eyes, for a long moment as if complimenting your beauty with just the look on it’s own. finnick had his way with words, there was no discussion about that, but his eyes always spoke for him first.

“see y’ later, honey.” his thumb ever so gently brushed against your chin, as he turned to walk to the other already interviewed victors.

“peeta.” finnick acknowledged your district partner with a brief nod, and he got one back, from the younger blonde.

“finnick.” peeta muttered, walking up to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder briefly before he saw haymitch nearing both of you with effie trying to keep up with him on her dramatically tall heels.

“you know what to do?” haymitch switched gaze between his protégés, before sipping some alcohol from his flask again, to make sure they understood. earning a nod from both you and peeta he sighed, for now leaving it to the fate.

“it’s time.” effie chimmed when your name was called and started lightly pushing you towards the staircase leading up the podium.

“our lovely girl, all the from twelve, doesn’t she look beautiful?” caesar gushed putting a hand over his chest, while holding the microphone in the other. the audience cheered, they loved you here, you were such an interesting victor to the capitol.

“tell us, did you leave a special someone at home? i don’t believe you didn’t.” laugh erupted from the crowd but everyone awaited your answer.

“thank you, caesar. what a..nostalgic feeling to be here again., but i didn’t, really.” you smile sweetly, your eyes searching for a head of bronze waves underneath the podium but the moment of silence flickerman left you was way too short, for you to be successful. and also technically, you weren’t lying. the special someone was there with you.

“unbelievable. such a beautiful young lady. ain’t i right gentlemen.” the crowd cheered once more before caesar asked you other number of questions.

“you did good, now you two should get some rest, the raiting starts early again tomorrow.” haymitch said as he walked with you and peeta to the elevator after introducing you to his friends, seeder and chaff, the victor tributes from district eleven.

you gave a hum in an answer, leaning against the glass wall of the lift while it gone up, not paying attention to the conversation haymitch had with peeta, getting lost in your thoughts once again before johanna’s loud voice pierced through the compressed space.

“care to unzip?” she grinned at peeta which you just rolled your eyes over, until by the corner of your eye you caught familiar tall frame that stepped in just behind johanna. finnick.

“haymitch.” the victor from district four cocked at your mentor, who just gave him a nod, brief annoyance flashing over his expression, just before johanna completely stripped off her clothes having all of the three blond’s eyes on her.

“thanks. lets do it again some time.” she called over her shoulder winking at you, before walking away into the hallway of the seventh floor where her quarters were.

“thank you.” the oldest member of the group answered and finnick threw a smirk at you making you roll your eyes once again, not even noticing haymitch’s judging look thrown into your boyfriend’s direction.

“not tired, o’dair?” your mentor uttered indifferently, looking everywhere around just to not catch your gaze.

“ve got a great stamina.” the younger blond mused while peeta just shifted awkwardly not comfortable in the position between the two older victors.

you just fake coughed lightly into your fist, reminding everyone of your presence so all the male victors around went quiet rather than being scold for the childishness of their arguments.

“twelfth floor.” the voice in the elevator announced and peeta was the first one to get out just to disappear into his bedroom, wanting to leave you and finnick some space, knowing he will talk to you later, but mainly wanting to get away from any other possible drama.

haymitch almost lazily shuffled out, into the hall, drinking the liquor from his flasks once more, before turning his head to look at you, making that disapproving face.

“use protection.” he just muttered before getting lost as well, before you had any chance to yell something back at him.

“are you even allowed to be here?” you turn to finnick, before he led the two of you slowly to the balcony railing, his hand holding yours.

“i didn’t ask.” is your answer from him along with that charming, kind smile of his. finnick leaned against the railing, reaching his free hand out to cup your face, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

it was more than comforting, to after weeks of loneliness, spent the night in finnick’s warm, loving embrace, his presence always had the charm to keep the nightmares from haunting every minute of your not so peaceful sleep.

the four days went even faster than it did last time. the individual rating was something that went completely around you and your brain wasn’t able to process much of the given informations, when it was occupied by the thoughts of what is gonna happen tomorrow and if you will live to see what happens after tomorrow.

“pst. hey, hey baby.” the familiar gentle voice took you out pf your thoughts and you turned around to see finnick standing at the doorway of your bedroom. for tonight, you had agreed to sleep separately, so you’d be strong and fully rested at the dawn.

“finnick!” leaping into his arms you take the feeling in, as if it was the first and last time, you ever get to feel his love and care.

finnick smiled, holding you close to his chest his arms supporting your weight as he leaned his head down, kissing your lips gently. then again, and again.

“i’ll see you in the mornin’ m’kay, sweet girl? ‘s all gonna be okay.” he gave you a reassuring look pecking your forehead.

“yea, in the morning.” you mumble, just clinging close to him, not being able to say much right now, feeling your insides being tangled in a one knot and squeezed tightly.

“good night, my love.”

“good night, finn.” unwillingly you let him go only comforting thought being that it all, might soon be over.

[surqrised]

It seems impossible that you can love one person so much, no matter what happens, no matter what they do.

Francesca Lia Block, Pink Smog

[liabugs]

Caleb’s the type to practice kissing with you for your “future boyfriend “

cw: reader is portrayed as naive or inexperienced, full nelson, not profread dubious consent, just caleb being a freak LOL

He would!!! He just wants to help you! After all if you want a boyfriend you need to learn how to kiss right?

You would ask "but wouldn't that make you my first kiss?" to which he would say: "noo, just don't tell anybody, it's not like we're boyfriend and girlfriend or anything..." with a smirk.

And then, his lips are on yours. He bites your bottom lip and you moan. You feel a warm feeling in your stomach, whimpering, trying to put away. "I feel weird caleb... I think we should stop-" He pouts, “c’mon pips, promise nothing bad is gonna happen, ‘kay?”

You press your lips in a thin line, you think, well Caleb has never steered you wrong… So what’s different about this time?

So you go with it. And before you know it, He’s got you in full nelson, split open on his big cock. Cooing at you when you whine from the pain, “It’s okay princess, ‘promise it will feel good soon..” then he kisses your cheek.

When you get used to his size he’s moving in a slower pace than expected. But that doesn’t last long before he’s pounding into you, you’re so much better than the other girls who look like you. Caleb realizing that the real deal is so much better than he could ever dream of.

It’s a good thing Gran isn’t home because the noises you both are making are loud and desperate. Caleb praising you for how good your taking him,

“Takin’ me s’well pips, mmph fuck!”

“yes yes, atta girl, just like that, mhmm…”

“s’good baby, yer soo tight princess.”

then your coming around his cock, throwing your head back on his shoulder with a squeal.

And fuck, Caleb thinks, he might have to let that boy know what’s his. And Caleb doesn’t take kindly to another guy touching what’s his.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Villain!Ghost x Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Synopsis: Your husband wants your company..

A/n: GUYS OMG, I know it's been 1 month and a little more since my last official work. I've been procrastinating on this for so long since I only have less than a week till school again.. Also everyone I love on this app is just disappearing, like @ghost-cyphera just deleted her account 4 days ago and I got the notif but didn't see it in time, I didn't even get to say goodbye. Just wanted to apologize to you guys after being gone for so long as well. Also, another villain!Ghost drabble? 👀

Finding it difficult to walk was one of the least things you've suspected you'd be concerned of upon conceiving, always needing your handmaiden's help in such a mundane task was shameful to say the least but your husband insisted.

If it hadn't been the hand maiden then it would've been him instead, you couldn't keep him from his duties from the kingdom as he carried even yours. Wanting you to turn your attention to the health of the babe growing in you and especially yourself..

"My lady.." you were pulled out of your thoughts by the voice of your handmaiden. You took in a breath from the cool air that blew on your face as you stood by the stone railing..

"Yes, Leticia?" You turned to her..

"The prince consort has requested your company.." Leticia announced, you nod as you removed your hand from the cold stone. You glanced once more to the people of your kingdom, going about their day and life before gently lifting yourself off from leaning on the stone.

Leticia offered you her arm to help you walk more efficiently..

...

"You sent for me..?" You asked your husband, he was sat and signing another set of documents and scrolls. You closed the door, palms gently pushing till you heard it click.

"No, I told them to announce my arrival to you. How dare they exert my wife by giving her false instructions.." he huffed to which you laughed. He wouldn't do anything violent about it, as he so usually does with staff that don't comply but he knew it'd upset you if anything gory were to happen to them.

"I am quite alright, I need to move around too. It's proven to be good for our child." You said, sitting next to the graciously comfortable chair next to his working desk that he had someone make for you.

You felt relief from the pressure previously on your back, hand on the bump of your stomach and with that a sigh came from your lips. Peacefully watching your husband, the sound of the satisfying scratching of the quill on the crisp papers.

You felt his hand grasp yours, he pulled it, lips resting on the back. His affection made your heart beat faster and he felt it, the pad of his index finger on your wrist. The thumping made him chuckle as you smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder.

"You should rest for a while, my love. You'd work yourself to sickness at this point." You kiss his cheek softly. He put his quill down, "If that's my wife wants.." he said.

He wrapped his arm around you, the other hand placed on your baby bump. His thumb gently rubbing, you jolted a bit feeling a strong kick..

It made you groan, how restless the rascal is. Your husband adjusted his hand to feel the next kick.. he'd swear it was a girl, not that he'd care for that sort of thing. He'd kill for them either way, especially for you. He could stare at you all day, swollen with his child.

How glowing you looked wrapped in the finest silk and the gold and jewels in your hair and body clicking upon contact with another piece, he wished he could tell you how utterly speechless you'd leave each man by just walking passed them but to him no word is enough to describe you.

At least he could spend these small intimate moments with just you and you alone, free of the world for even just a few minutes as he needed a break from the work he very much was eager to do to be able to receive praise from his wife..

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo @duck-a-doodle

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: put your hand on my heart

pairing: micheal townsend x reader

synopsis: you know you’re panicking but you can’t stop it and nothing is helping. the last person you want to see you like this turns out to be your saviour

warnings: panic attack, overwhelming anxiety, dark thoughts

a/n: thanks for reading 🤍🤍

taglist: @inmyheaddd @midiosaamor @lyrakanefanatic @aleatorio1234 @maybe-dj124 @book-nerd-emi @maybxlle @foreverwinter22 @sweetreveriee @hermesenthusiast @shattered-glass-roses @gandergaal @sheisntyou @arias-archive @lila-77 @downrightbooks

Please, please, please. Not again. Not this again. I stumble into the bathroom making sure the door shuts behind me, hastily trying to reach a source of water. My finger shake as I turn on the bathroom tap, they can barely grasp the metal. I wait for the cold water to run before splashing my face three times. It’s meant to be a shock tactic, it’s meant to pull me together, it’s meant to help, but it isn’t doing what it’s meant to, it isn’t doing anything. It never does anything.

I try to swallow but it feels like I’ve forgotten how. It feels like my trachea is slowly constricting, the walls on either side slowly closing in creating a claustrophobe’s nightmare. My throat aches as my mouth fills with saliva that I’m desperate to get rid of. I touch my neck, my fingers scraping against the skin. I want to pry it open. Maybe then I’ll be able to breathe, be able to swallow.

I glance up at myself in the mirror and don’t recognise the girl staring back at me. Her eyes are rimmed with thick black smears, her lips are dry and cracked, there are red streaks of art winding down her neck and her face is a sickly pale colour. I’m but living in the shell of body that used to be mine. The things that made me myself are long gone, a ghost of a whisper living somewhere deep within my veins. I don’t know what parasite has infiltrated my body, all I know is I want it out. I want it gone.

But some things you can never kill, so long as they live in your mind, you’ll never truly be rid of them.

Panic wraps bony fingers around my ankles and yanks me into murky waters, Fear holds my head under and makes sure I can’t scream for help. Is this how you felt mum? Is this how you felt when they drowned you? My lungs burn, scream, beg but I already know I won’t ever get to grace them with oxygen again. My hands and feet are bound with thick rope that cuts deep into my flesh. They tied you up too mum. Why? Did you even fight it? I glance at my captors with pleading eyes, they only laugh. Amused by the emotions that fed them running riot through my soul. Did you look at them like me mum? We always had the same eyes, that’s what everyone said. Did they laugh at you too mum?

I feel my body grow weak, I watch as the world spins and I grow dizzy. I’m lost in a state between life and death, beneath this ocean of panic. My body is still trying to fight for survival even though I want to give up. You never wanted to give up, did you mum? But you had to, they forced you to. Panic gives me one last gift, placing something heavy on my chest. It crushes my rib cage but there’s nothing left in me to cry out. No one would hear anyway, I was underwater. No one heard you, mum. I didn’t hear you either. The weight pushes me down further and further from the surface and slowly, slowly it all grows black. Is this what you saw mum? When your body sunk to the bottom? Were you plunged into the darkness the same way I am?

I’m gasping and spluttering. My chest is in agony, red hot pain prickles over my torso. I want to rip my skin off, claw every inch away with my nails. I throw my sweatshirt over my head so the cotton of my shirt was the only thing touching my upper body. I look back to the stranger in the mirror and prod my face with unfamiliar fingers. The veins under my skin throb, almost like my pulse is so fast it might burst them altogether. Part of me hopes they might, at least I’d be rid of these feelings.

My heart thumps loudly through my ears, each boom more demeaning than the last. It feels like the organ pulsating out of my chest each time it beats. A torturous, monotonous thunderstorm that I can’t avoid.

“I don’t like the thunder,” I tremble in my mother’s arms, clinging to the soft fabric of her shirt as if my life depends on it.

“It can’t hurt you little one,” she whispers, stroking my hair with her tender touch, “but don’t fret, you’re safe, I’ve got you, it’s okay, I’m here.”

I don’t like thunderstorms. I never have. But my mother’s arms aren’t here to be my refuge, all I have are these four bathroom walls.

I try and will myself to cry but there are no tears. My face isn’t damp and my eyes don’t water. They refuse, my mind too stubborn to give me an outlet for my pain. I should be crying, I know I should, it’s unnatural not to, it’s not normal.

But I’m not normal.

I feel the dreaded panic attack me again. It’s like a million tiny bullets are being fired at my body all at once. I can’t avoid a single one, I’m stood in no man’s land. And yet despite being shot so many times, I don’t seem to be able to die. Only writhe in my own agony.

My breathing quickens still, which by now I’d thought might be medically impossible. I wish for Sloane to be here to give me a statistic about breathing or wallabies, I wish for Lia to tell me the lie that I would be okay a thousand times over, I wish for Cassie to hold me until I stop shaking looking at me with her kind eyes, I wish for Dean to help me understand why I’m like this and I wish for Micheal to never, ever see me like this.

My wishes don’t come true. Wishes usually don’t for girls like me.

I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have control of my own body, of my own mind, thoughts and feelings. They’re constantly hijacked by a stronger power. A power that comes dressed in black hood and carries weapons of destruction. Though he doesn’t always use them, not straight away. He presents them first, the fear of the threat. Then at the moment of his choosing - the middle of the night, when I’m out shopping, the early morning, in the middle of a case - he would use them.

I have become a prisoner to the man in my mind.

He remembers everything. My mother. He knows all. She was kind and smart and funny and passionate and bold. The details I wanted to forget. Her cold dead body, hauled from the bottom of a lake. Blue skin, closed eyes, hair plastered to her forehead. The things I’d left in the past. She used to tell me I could do anything, be anything. That I was something. That I was special. Brighter than the stars. All that I’d blocked out. The killers that I couldn’t find, that I’d failed to find.

Another overbearing wave of panic crashes into me and my legs begin to feel unsure of themselves adopting an unnatural wobble. Sure I might fall, I sink to the floor in a helpless heap of heavy breathing and blurred thoughts. The cold tiles that press against the back of my thighs are the only thing to remind me that I can feel.

I need five things. What can I see? What can I touch? What can I hear? What can I smell? What can I taste?

I pry my eyes back open. I can see the bathroom door, it’s white with a golden handle. Two towels hang on a hook from the back of it. They’ve been recently used and are still a little damp. The smile on my mum’s face.

I can touch the fabric of my shirt. I play with it between my fingers. It’s soft, it’s smooth, it can’t hurt me. Her fingers weaving a braid through my hair.

I can hear my heart. No, I have to hear past it. I strain my ears. Talking, I can hear my friends talking in the room next door. Sloane, Cassie, Lia, Dean and Michael. I can hear Sloane’s voice most immediately, then Lia’s. The words are blurred, a soup of sound, too overwhelmed by the pounding in my chest. The hum of her sweet song, the one she wrote just for my name.

I can smell bleach. It’s strong and sterile. The bathroom has been recently cleaned. Rose water and buttermilk. She always smelt of rose water and buttermilk. As long as I could remember.

I can taste nothing. My throat is dry, my lips are dry, my tongue is so dry it’s stuck to the roof of my mouth. The honey sweet syrupy liquid she often gave me before I slept.

I lean back further into the wall and close my eyes again. Is it working? Is it helping? I’ve listed the five things, my task is done. Why do I still feel the same? I shouldn’t still feel the same. It’s not working, it never works, I don’t know why this time I thought it might. I’m an idiot. I always have been.

“y/n? Are you in there?”

I know that voice and I know I don’t want him anywhere near the door. I know I’ve forgotten to lock it and I can’t move from the position I’m in. I know I need to tell him I’m fine, that it’s okay. I know that I should then explain I need Lia to get me a tampon to scare him away.

But I can’t speak, I can’t answer him. When I try I end up gasping for air like a fish out of water. I grip the side of the sink, my knuckles going white, trying to hoist myself up. He can’t see me like this, out of everyone it can’t be him. The moment I get myself to stand, my legs give way and I fall back to the floor. They’re too weak to support me anymore.

I’m too weak.

I land with a crash, sending a shooting pain up my back. I wince and make some sort of strangled sound, a scream but with no breath to make it sound like a scream. Immediately he bursts in, uninvited in classic Micheal style. Though he might be the emotion reader of the two of us, I see the worry on his face, through his eyes. I try to glare at him but can’t even muster that. I know there’s no getting out of this now, the moment he lays eyes on me he knows exactly how I feel. Even if I were Lia I don’t believe there’d be any lie good enough to cover up my situation.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he rushes, dropping to his knees immediately, “hey, it’s okay, I’m here.”

“It’s okay, I’m here.”

My mother’s words echo through my mind. His hand settles on my thigh. I don’t need you here’ I wanted to scream. I need Sloane, Lia, Cassie, Dean, Judd, heck even Briggs just anyone but him. He shouldn’t know that this is the real me, that this is the kind of relationship he is really getting into.

He sees it. He sees my fear, my desperation, my panic, my worry, my pain, my anger. He sees it all in technicolour.

Micheal takes my face between to soft palms, “breathe with me, sweetheart,” he says very slowly, “I need you to breathe with me.”

I can’t even talk. I try to reply, but I physically can’t.

“Don’t try to talk,” he tells me gently, “it’s not going to help you. I need you to try and breathe with me.”

I can barely hear him over the sound of my heart raging through my ears yet manage to shake my head vigorously. I need to explain to him that it won’t work, that it never works.

“Try,” he murmurs, understanding, “with me. In… and out…”

Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth. Nothing overtly complicated. Yet it feels like the most difficult task I’ve ever had to do in my life.

“In…” he guides me, steadily, “…and out.”

One. I do it once.

My breathing is still rapid, I am panting like a dog but I did it. Once. He sits down beside me, interlocking his hand into mine. A constant, a rock, he’s telling me he isn’t leaving. His back is up against the cool tiled wall. Gently he puts his hands on my hips. I don’t shy away from his touch, I don’t flinch, I don’t slap him away. I want his hands on me. I want him to distract me.

He pulls me between his legs. I lean on him pressing my back up against his firm chest. I need to feel something, someone, anyone. I need to know that I’m not alone. I want his lips to transport me somewhere else, I want his hands to make me forget everything. I tilt my head so ours eyes meet. I plead silently. I know he can read what I want, what I need. I know he can see it all displayed on my face.

“You have to get your heart rate and breathing back to normal,” he says, “a distraction won’t help that.”

“Need,” I choke, through loud gulps of air.

He presses a kiss to my temple, “breathe, my love, you’re safe, I’ve got you.”

“You’re safe, I’ve got you.”

I see my mum’s face. I roughly grab onto his legs, clawing at the material of his trousers, digging my fingernails in, like some sort of scared animal. I feel his hands on my waist as my chest heaves up and down, still uncontrollable. The untameable beast in my brain still a torrent of darkness.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” he repeats, his voice so smooth, so soothing. I want to believe him, “focus on me…”

I do. I’m focusing on his breath I can feel tickling the back of my neck and his outstretched legs I can see in front of me. I’m focussing on the shade of blue the sweatshirt is and how he smells of that fancy cologne he insists on buying. I’m focussing on the tingling sensation his lips let behind on my temple and the warmth of his body against mine.

“My voice…”

It’s low and even. Steady and constant. The words he says are sweet and soothing and kind. He wants to help me. He cares enough. They’re said softly, gently, tenderly, calmly. He wants me to know I’m safe. He wants to fight the man in my head as much as I do.

“My touch…”

His fingers are delicately wrapped around my waist, but one hand is drawing slow, light circles on my stomach. I feel the shape spiralling in and then back out again. The muscles in his upper arms are against the muscles of my upper arms, they brush together. His heart is beating a little faster than usual against my back.

I think about Micheal. I focus on what he tells me to. Each time I take in oxygen it gets the slightest bit easier. I inhale and I exhale. He waits and he listens and he draws circles on my belly. Sometimes he talks and sometimes he stays silent. But we stay like this until my breathing is only a little worse than normal. The breaths are still short and jagged but they’re less of a gasp, less of a prayer for air.

“You’re okay,” he repeats, “I’ve got you, you’re safe, I’m here.”

I twist my neck to meet his eyes. He looks like he’s in pain. I never meant to cause him pain.

“I’ve got you. Can you feel me?” he whispers, “I’ve got you in my arms. That means you’re safe.”

Safe. Would I ever really be safe when my biggest enemy lived in my own mind?

“I… need… touch…” I tell him, through little breaths.

I haven’t heard the man in my head since Micheal got here. I know this will help. I know I need it. He can make things go away, he can help me, he can keep me safe. He’s got me in his arms. That means I’m safe.

“Okay,” he whispers.

His hand slowly moves from the tight grip on my waist to the bottom of my shirt. It slips under the material, slowly trailing up the bare skin of my stomach. His fingertips skim over my bra and find their way to just below my collarbone on the left side on my chest. He flattens his hand against my heart, pressing down firmly. It’s warm in contrast to the coolness of my skin.

“Breathe again love,” Micheal says in my ear, his voice in the back of his throat, “breathe for me.”

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Do it again. Do it again. Do it again. It’s getting easier. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Do it again. It’s getting easier. It’s getting easier.

I can feel him, only him. Micheal Alexander Thomas Townsend. My heart thumps against his palm. I close my eyes and rest my head back onto him. I feel it, as he presses the lightest of kisses onto my face, first my forehead, my nose, then my lips. Him, it’s all him. He can take this away, this darkness, this sickness, this disease in my mind. He can make it leave.

After what feels like a while, I’m somewhat what I was before. I can’t say things are back to normal because I am not normal. But I can breathe again, my chest doesn’t hurt, my heart isn’t the only thing I can hear and the man in my head has left. For now.

I realise for the first time how Micheal has seen me. This isn’t the me he’s used to. I take his hand from my shirt and move away from his touch. I stand up shakily and he’s quick to follow, ready to catch me should I fall. I lean against the sink, breathing deeply in and out. I can’t rely on him,I can’t afford to. The last person I relied on was my mother and look where that got me.

“You weren’t meant to see that,” I say, my back still towards him. I can’t bear to look him in the eye, not even for a second.

“It’s not a crime to panic,” he tells me slowly, there’s something tentative in his tone.

I turn around to face him, “yes. It is.”

I’m no emotion reader but something in his face looks scared. I had been taught long ago that I had to stay in control. That if anyone saw me out of control, unnatural, disobedient to the requirements set, that I would be less of a person. A nothing in this world. I’m not going to let this make me nothing. Not after I’d been something for so long.

Something to my mother. Something at school. Something to Briggs and his colleagues. Something to the Naturals program. Something to the friends I’d made here. Something… something to Micheal.

“I’m strong Micheal,” I say trying to steady my shaky voice, “I’m strong, I don’t break,” I falter as tears fill my eyes, I haven’t cried in so long, “I’m not like this, it’s not me.”

I meet his eyes again. He can see all of it, the emotions I show him and even the ones I’m holding back. I’m like a naked body in a room full of mirrors.

“Oh sweetheart,” he says, reaching out to take me in his arms once more.

And as much as I want to, crave to, yearn to, I don’t. I jerk away from his quickly, hitting my hip on the corner of the sink. The porcelain sends a sharp jolt of pain through my body. There will be a bruise tomorrow. He immediately backs away, a concern I’m not used to seeing rippling through his features. He could hide it if he wanted but he’s choosing to show me. He’s showing me he cares.

“Don’t pity me Micheal,” I try to snap but instead my voice strains and instead sounds like I’m in pain, “please.”

‘I’m not pitying you’ the unspoken words hang in the air but never reach his lips.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks instead.

“I don’t know,” I whisper, fumbling over my words, “I don’t know.”

“Come here,” he says, opening his arms again. This time not reaching out for me, this time letting me choose to come towards him.

And I do.

I fall into his arms and melt into his touch. When I feel him around me, everything falls silent, the noise, the stress, the expectation. It’s only him and me. Him and me.

“You are still strong, even after breaking,” he says into my ear, such power in his words but gentleness in his voice, “because you haven’t broken completely, you’re still here,” he murmurs, “and that’s the strongest thing someone can ever do.”

There isn’t any words to reply and he knows that. I let him hold me for a long while before finally, finally I let myself cry.

ahhhh this is my first naturals fic so I’m lowkey nervous… i try and avoid y/n at all costs but I felt like it was sort of needed here. anyways i hoped you liked it and let me know if you want to be on the taglist :))

the natural’s masterlist

[pitchsidestories]

¡vamos! II Laia Codina x Arsenal!Reader

GIF by idontknowwfc

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 1528

summary: amid the joy and chaos after the final whistle in Lyon, Laia wasn’t just capturing the moment with her camera—she was capturing your love too. requested

author's note: hi everyone, this video was our inspiration for the fanfic. We can't wait to hear what you think ! 🥰🥰

disclaimer: everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality.

Excited, Laia turned the film camera towards herself, her grip steady as she smirked at the lens, promising: “I’m going to film everything. Don’t worry.”

“Who gave you a camera?”, Katie raised an eyebrow, half-amused, half-bewildered. The Irish woman hadn’t noticed when one of the staff had handed the Spanish defender the small, portable device.

The atmosphere was electric. Arsenal had done what few believed possible at their chaotic start of the season. Now, as the final whistle pierced the air of the Lyon stadium, the players seated on the elevated bench began to rise, one by one, drawn to the pitch by sheer disbelief and joy.

Laia didn’t so much as blink at Katie’s question. She was already on her feet, swept up in the tide of teammates spilling down the steps.

“¡Vamos!”, she cried, beaming as the spring sun which bathed the pitch in golden light.

“Did she just fucking ignore me?”, Katie shook her head.

Chloe, hearing her, turned with a lifted brow and a flicker of amusement dancing in her eyes: “She really does film everything, doesn’t she?”

“She doesn’t even know what she’s filming anymore. Laia’s just carrying that cam like it’s glued to her hand.”, Katie observed.

Up ahead, players surged towards their coach. Renée stood on the touchline, arms wide open, her face lit with pride and wonder. They vaulted the barrier in a blur of movement, laughter spilling out, boots thudding softly against the green grass, tears mingling with shouts of triumph.

“Laia!”, Mariona’s voice rang out, trying to flag her down, remind her, maybe, of what the camera might catch.

But Laia didn’t hear her. She had turned already, her eyes scanning, searching—until they landed on you.

The camera hung loosely now, forgotten at her side. Her whole face lit up, transformed by that unmistakable smile, the kind only meant for you.

You were standing with Alessia and Leah, all three of you suspended in that strange, shimmering moment after victory.

“Hi.”, Laia said, simply.

Mirroring her smile, your cheeks still flushed from the match, you answered softly: “Oh, hey.”

“You were great.”, she whispered into your ear, her voice low, proud.

Your face turned redder, but you smiled wider: “Thank you.”

“Y/n, they want to do a double interview with you and Lessi.”, Renée’s voice cut gently through the moment.

“Coming.”, you assured her, then turned to Laia, ready to say goodbye, but before you could move, she reached for you, tugging you in. Her arms wrapped around you.

And then she kissed you fiercely, without hesitation, like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Laia stood there for a second after your lips separated, a huge grin plastered across her face. She just nodded and said, “Okay, cool.”

You winked at her one last time before heading to your interview.

While you mentally prepared what to say, Laia continued across the pitch. joy radiating from her as she made her way to Arsenal’s captain.

“Kimmy!”, she called out, pulling the smaller woman into a tight hug.

Kims eyes widened with surprise. “Did you just kiss her on the mouth while recording?”, she asked, half incredulous, half scolding, as she pointed to the camera still in Laia’s hand.

Laia followed her gaze and flinched: “What? Shit!”

“It’s fine. I’m sure they can cut it out before posting.“, Lotte said calmly as she joined them. Then, with a crooked smirk, she added, “Unless you want to go public with it.”

Laia shrugged: “I guess I’ll have to talk to her about it.”

“You should.”, Kim agreed with a firm nod.

“I will. But first I have to make more videos.”, the defender said, already raising the camera again and heading off to film more celebrations.

Meanwhile, you and Alessia were standing side by side at the interview area. Multiple microphones and a camera were pointed at you both, but you could barely take any of it seriously. You were still exhilarated from the game, the performance and the end result. It all felt like a dream.

So when Alessia was asked how she felt after the game and replied: “Yeah, we’re obviously buzzing.“, you couldn’t hold it together anymore. Her go-to word even made an appearance after such an important game. You had to fight to keep from bursting out laughing, though a little snort still escaped.

Alessia elbowed you in the side: “Y/n, stop laughing.”

“Sorry, Lessi.”, you coughed to cover your smile and trying to compose yourself

Alessia professionally ignored you and continued to reply to the question: “Everyone was just incredibly today.”

“Agreed, it was truly a masterclass from the team on and off the pitch.”, you added, pride clear in your voice.

“It really was.”

Just as the young journalist opened his mouth to ask another question, Katie appeared out of nowhere, grabbing both of you by the arms.

“Time to party!”, she announced as she dragged you off.

The reporter could only watch one as you were swept away and you almost felt bad for him. But celebrating this milestone with your teammates seemed much more important than answering a few more boring questions.

 “Follow us, we’re celebrating.”, you called out as soon as you spotted your girlfriend.

Nervously, Laia cleared her throat and pulled you into a quieter corner. “Amor? Can we talk?”

“Of course.”, you replied, though her sudden seriousness left you puzzled. Where had the cheerful Spaniard gone?

“So... I accidentally filmed our kiss and unfortunately, we look very cute on camera.”, the defender confessed, offering a charmingly shy smile.

It was clearly not the explanation you had expected; a disbelieving laugh escaped your lips: “Wait, you did what?”

“Yes?”, the brunette replied, her chocolate-brown eyes sparkling with amusement.

You both jumped slightly as Daphne’s voice chimed in: “I told you, you two look great on film. I still have those photos from our last day out.”

For a moment, you closed your eyes, recalling the picnic the goalkeeper had mentioned, one of those first warm days in a London park when everything felt lighter, the sun warming the grass beneath you. It had been clear then that you and Laia were in love. The memory brought you a sense of calm.

“What do you think, amor? Should we post Daphne’s pictures of us before the video comes out? No more hiding.”, you proposed your idea.

Your girlfriend agreed: “I think we should.”

On the flight home, night had already fallen, and the lights below twinkled like stars. You settled into your seat beside Laia, who was rewatching the video she’d recorded earlier.

“We have to save this, so our future children can see how cool we were.”, the Spaniard suggested with a grin.

Mariona, seated directly behind you, immediately protested: “You two might have been together longer than Lia and me, but you’re far too young to be thinking about kids!”

Her Swiss girlfriend nodded in agreement, chuckling: “Yes—no baby talk on this flight.”

“Alright, alright, we hear you. Katie, hand us the drink.”, you requested with a mischievous smile, glancing over at the Irish defender.

She shook her head and protectively covered her champagne bottle. “Nope, it’s mine.” “Katie.” “You girls can have it, she’s clearly had enough already.”, Caitlin cut in, smoothly taking the bottle from her girlfriend’s grasp.

“Rude.”, Katie muttered, pouting.

“Gracias.”,  Laia said brightly as you both took a sip of the golden liquid.

Smiling, Mariona raised her own glass:” Cheers, chicas.”

“Cheers,” Laia replied.

Suddenly, you stood up, your voice thick with emotion as you lifted your glass for a toast: “To a day we’ll hopefully never forget.”

“We won’t! This is historic!”, Leah yelled. Earlier, in the post-match huddle, she’d reminded everyone just how special this moment was for Arsenal.

Kim’s eyes glistened once more. She had given nearly seventeen years to the club when the midfielder first arrived, memories of their last European Cup win were still vivid. And now, they’d done it again.

“We made history today.”, she murmured softly.

Beth quickly pulled her into a hug.

“Don’t start crying again.”, she laughed.

“Shut up, Beffy. I’m not crying but you and Leah are.”, the captain protested, pointing at the two players.

Beth didn’t respond, just wiped at her glazed-over eyes.

Katie interrupted, raising her glass solemnly.

“Now it’s my turn. Tonight, we won through the power of friendship and lesbianism!”

It was such a ridiculous toast that the whole team burst into giggles. “You can’t say that!” Kim scolded with a smile. “Yes, I can,” Katie shot back, completely unfazed.

You knew they’d be bickering about this for a while, so you turned to Laia.

Her face was soft and full of love as she watched the other players.

“Our team…”, she whispered.

You smiled at her: “Yeah, I know. I love them too.”

“Yes,” Laia said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “But I love you the most of all of them.”

You smiled against her lips, knowing this night would live in your heart forever, not just for the history you made, but for the people you made it with.

[reminiscingtonight]

Guilty

Lia Wälti x Russo!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Tis the season for sequels. Featuring a lot of Kyra and Alessia and not so much of Lia

[The Thing About Families Masterlist]

You should have known better than to trust her. 

There’s a reason Steph’s always more than happy to drop Kyra off on your doorstep whenever camp’s over.

There’s a reason Mini looks like she’s gained five years every time the younger girl has been granted privileges to “babysit” her two kids. 

You have a million reasons to not trust her yet you did. 

Why did you trust Kyra with the ring?

Your knuckles are nearly white as you drag the young girl into a nearby unoccupied conference room. Kyra’s looking apologetically guilty, but a delirious haze is starting to take over you. It’s a mixture of horror and disbelief, but at the bottom of it all, you feel beyond stupid.

“What do you mean you lost it?!”

Kyra looks like she’s moments away from crying, but you can’t find it in yourself to be compassionate. You can console her later. Right now you need to get to the bottom of this and try to salvage your relationship with your girlfriend first. 

“I swear it was stashed at the bottom of my drawer but it just wasn’t there when I looked this morning.”

“Well where did you put it?”

“I never moved it! Someone must have taken it.”

You pinch your eyes shut, praying to whatever soccer gods that are above that this was just a cruel joke. This wasn’t really happening and you weren’t about to postpone all the plans you’ve spent months working on. “Kyra, I am begging you not to do this. What am I supposed to do? The dinner’s been booked! The restaurant knows I’m proposing!”

“We can get you a new one! I’ll front it, I swear.”

Forget Kyra crying, you’re going to cry. 

“Unless you’re willing to shell out five grand in the next few hours, I don’t think ‘buying me a new’ one will work.”

The young Australian’s eyes bulge out at the sound of how much you spent on Lia’s ring. 

It’s not a well kept secret that you were going to propose. You and Lia have been together for years now, married in every way except for the official one. Wedding plans have already been discussed, from venues to food to the invitation list. The last thing you actually had to do was the actual proposing and getting married parts.

Though with the ways things are going, you’re not sure you’re going to get married anytime soon. 

There’s a knock on the door but you ignore it, pacing back and forth as your mind races. There’s not really much you can do at this point. The place you got Lia’s ring custom made at is already closed at this time of day, and your girlfriend deserves something better than a last minute generic engagement ring. 

A flash of blonde enters your peripheral just as you make your decision.

“Okay. I think I’ve got a plan.”

“Oh I’ve been looking for you guys--”

“Now’s not a good time, Less,” you wave your sister off, not even bothering to pay her any attention. “Okay Kyra, listen closely because I won’t repeat myself.”

The younger girl nods, determination painted all over her features. 

“I’ll cancel the reservations. That’ll buy me a couple days.”

“Guys--”

“Less. Not a good time,” You repeat, shuffling to turn your back to her to ensure Alessia can’t interrupt again. “The jeweler still has the plans I sent him. I can probably get Gio and Luca to lend me some money, but you have to find where you stashed that ring, Kyra. It wasn’t cheap.”

“About the ring--”

“Not now Alessia!” This time your and Kyra’s voices blend together, neither of you willing to give Alessia a minute of your days. 

She lets out an offended huff and you have half a mind to just strangle her right here and now, your mother’s feelings be damned. 

Gritting your teeth you turn around, not really happy to have to find out what your sister wants. She has free reign to bother you at any minute of any day but why was she so insistent on doing so right now? “What could possibly be so important, you impatient piece of--”

You cut off suddenly, eyes doubling in size when you look down at her hands. 

There’s a velvet box clutched between her perfectly manicured nails, the tiny thing sitting there like it’s mocking you for losing your temper earlier. 

“That’s my--”

“The ring! But-- but--”

“Where’d you find it?”

“Oh god, Lessi I could kiss you, you just saved my ass--” Kyra breaks off, something clicking in her brain. “Wait, where did you find it?”

There’s a slight pause as you wait for Alessia’s answer. 

“Err… so funny story.” She blows out a breath of air, trying her best to look nonchalant. “I might have been-- actually Kyra hid…” Alessia fidgets, not liking the crease that was growing deeper and deeper between your brows. “IwantedtoprankKyraaftersheprankedmesoItooktheringthelasttimeIvisited.”

She slams her mouth shut the second the words are uttered, but no one says a word. 

An uncomfortable tension settles into the room and Alessia does her best not to wilt to the ground. 

You stare at her.

Kyra stares at her.

Alessia stares at a spot past your faces, nervously shuffling under the weight of your gazes.

There’s no mistaking icy stare or the clenched jaw that proved you caught every word of her fastball confession. 

“You… What?” There’s an edge to your voice, a tone Alessia rarely was at the end of growing up, but one that she recognizes all the same. The order there is clear, but Alessia’s not so sure she wants to repeat herself out of self preservation.

She shrinks, suddenly wishing she wasn’t so tall. “Um. Well. So Kyra hid my earrings the other day, and I, uh, I thought hiding this would be a funny way to prank her back?” Alessia cringes, not liking the way this all sounds now that she’s saying it out loud. “But judging by the looks on your faces, I’m going to say otherwise.”

Your nose flares but that’s the only response she’s given. 

Kyra looks grumpy, probably the result of taking your misplaced anger from earlier. 

You hold out your hand.

No words are exchanged but Alessia is quick to drop the box into your hand. 

Just as quick as she darts forward to do so, she jumps back, shoving her now empty hands into her pockets. 

“See, no hurt no foul, right?”

Crickets. 

That’s all Alessia hears as she nervously chuckles. 

Neither you nor Kyra have moved, faces giving nothing away. 

At least not until you call the Australian’s name calmly, eyes never leaving your sister’s.

Alessia watches as the two of you slowly peel away from each other. Her eyes keep darting between the two of you, feeling more and more like prey that’s being stalked as the seconds tick by. “Guys, c’mon–”

“Remember how I told you to play nice with my only sister?”

Kyra’s frowning. It’s probably supposed to come off frightening but she looks too much like a kicked dog for it to really do too much.

But the look on your face… yeah, that was intimidating enough for the two of you.

“Forget everything I’ve ever said. I don’t have a sister.”

Alessia gulps.

“Get her.”

She bolts.