#forgot colours. were real

[uss-genderprise]

torchwood cats!!!

these have been sitting in my drive for ages but i decided i had to redo john and ianto so i put off posting for ages. these are some of my earliest digital drawings. also they're all based on real possible cat colours :3

[ilikeevilblondes]

Wide Open

18+ MDNI!

Summary: After a long day of work, Joel expects nothing more from the evening than getting some shut-eye. Fate has other plans, however, because the daughter of the family next door forgot to close her blinds again and is putting on quite the show.

TL;DR: Joel gets off watching you get off.

W.C: ~2.8k

Warnings: pervyneighbour!joel x reader, he's a tiny bit of a creep, accidental voyeurism (kind of…), mutual masturbation, dildo usage, lowkey a tiny breeding kink, implied age gap as per ushe (late-40s, early-20s), (no outbreak!)

Note: this is your daily reminder to close your blinds, y'all. unless joel miller is your neighbour. then maybe don't, and fuck with him.

Part One | Part Two

Joel always said he’d retire ‘soon’. 

Though as the years flew by, ‘soon’ remained ambiguously distant.

Presently, he had just come home from an unnecessarily hard day at work where some Einstein had misread the blueprint and cut every single piece of lumber half an inch too short. 

Joel was pushing fifty now. If asked toward his earlier adulthood, he’d have claimed that fifty-years-old balanced right on the precipice of retirement. And by sixty, he’d be golfing daily, attempting to read something other than the backs of DVDs, and not worrying about stupid shit like redoing an entire section of framing because of Romero’s shitty-fucking-eyesight.

“Fuckin’ Romero,” Joel mumbled to himself as he locked the door behind him and tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter.

With heavy footsteps, he ambled toward the fridge, praying he had the foresight the night before to leave a can or two of Modelo for his future self.

The unwelcoming sterile glare of the fridge light greeted him as he yanked open the door. Worse, it greeted him with its contents, or lack thereof.

No Modelo. 

Not even a lone, pitiful can of Keystone Light that Joel may have bought in desperation as a crappy substitute for literally any other beer.

Making a mental note to pick up a six-pack sometime tomorrow and, further down the line to maybe cut down on the beer, Joel trudged up the stairs to his bedroom.

His bedframe whined with a metallic creak as he sat on the edge, rubbing his hands down his face and feeling the scrape of his overgrown stubble on his worn palms.

Joel was more than ready to call it a night, he thought, as he leaned over to draw the curtains.

But he froze upon seeing you.

The two-story craftsman next door, formerly a ‘fixer-upper’, had been home to you and your parents ever since you moved in from the city a year ago. Your parents were mild-mannered neighbours who sent the street Christmas cards and kept the porch light on and took part in the neighbourhood watch patrol.

And you? You never made your bed, always had a book in your hands before sleeping, and more importantly, had a very noticeable habit of neglecting to close the blinds of your bedroom window.

Joel knew this, of course, because the bedroom of the two-story craftsman facing his house just so happened to belong to you.

“Shit,” Joel heaved a heavy sigh, still clutching the drawstring with notable tenseness.

Your cream-coloured blinds were slanted completely horizontally, allowing a direct view into your bedroom. And Joel found himself helplessly entranced, watching the back of your silhouette pull your shirt over your head and fling it across the room.

Fuck, you were very possibly wearing his favourite bra. The lacey ones that pushed your tits up real nice–

No. No, Joel, didn’t have a favourite bra of yours. What kind of neighbour would keep track of the family next door’s daughter’s bras? 

You turned around and, to his delight, confirmed that you were wearing the exact pair.

Him, evidently.

Joel squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back, running a hand through his greying hair and letting out a deep exhale.

You continued undressing, seemingly oblivious to the state of your blinds and the lack of privacy that state entailed. And further, oblivious of the old man next door watching intently as you unzipped your jeans and stepped out of them.

A thong. You had chosen to wear a thong that day. Because, of course, you had.

Bright red and stringy and covering virtually nothing, which left no part of your lower half to the imagination and Joel was able to see most of your perfect fucking pussy from the house over—

“The fuck am I doing?” Joel mumbled to himself and decidedly tore himself away from his window.

What was he doing? 

It wasn’t like you were strangers. He knew you. He came over to barbecues hosted in your back garden, fixed the leak in your kitchen sink when your dad had called, and watched the Superbowl in your living room that one year.

And, as much as he may have indulged in watching you before, he had never lingered as much as just did. Usually, he’d be sated with a few seconds of your half-dressed state, and would only later conjure up that image in the shower to fuck his fist to.

The tightness in his pants seemed to disagree with that plan, and Joel was overcome with an overwhelming need to settle his problem down south immediately.

Joel turned back to his window, determined to draw the curtains shut once and for all and then quickly jerk off to the mere thought of you (not that that was a noble action in and of itself), when he, for the second time that evening, froze at the sight of you.

Your bedroom was furnished in a way that had your bed facing your window. So, your wonderfully respectful neighbour could easily have direct views of you lying on your bed chatting on your phone, or reading, or spread out and running your fingers through your slick folds.

If Joel thought he was hard before, he was definitely, painfully, rock-hard now.

As careless as you may have been in the past, you have never forgotten to close your blinds to this degree before.

And, owing to that logic, you would never slip up like this again.

So, one would be incredibly stupid to not take advantage of this rare opportunity.

“Fuck it,” Joel inhaled sharply.

He scrambled to undo his belt and unzip his jeans and pull them down just enough to tug his raging erection out of his briefs, all while desperately keeping his gaze set on you.

Bracing one hand against the wall, he let the other wrap around his cock, fisting it leisurely as he watched you take open-mouthed breaths while your fingers traced up your seam to rub at your clit, your thong haphazardly pushed to the side.

You looked so pretty like that; lying on your bed and touching yourself as if you had pent-up emotions of need you desperately ached to satisfy.

You went slowly, dragging your fingers down along your wet cunt and against your throbbing clit, likely savouring the intensity.

Joel matched your pace, his fist sliding in a lazy tempo around his aching member.

Fuck, he’d do anything to grind his cock against your pussy; feel it shiver and clench around nothing and coat his length with your seeping slick. He’d bet all his money he could make you come without even putting it inside, too. Needy fucking slut.

And then you dipped a finger inside. 

Then another. 

God, with the way you seemed to be shaking around two of your own slender fingers, Joel was sure you’d be a mess riding his. 

Fuck, he’d even give you a third just to see you lose your fucking mind.

Maybe you’d beg him to stop, crying prettily and gasping in pitchy breaths that you just couldn’t take any more. But Joel believed you could, and he’d tell you so as he slipped his index finger to join the other two, feeling you clench around them—

Joel’s dick twitched in his hand and it was all he could do not to come early and let the show go to waste. Instead, he adopted a faster tempo, trying his damnedest to follow yours, however erratic it was.

Your mouth opened in a silent moan and you tossed your head back against your pillows as your fingers sped up in their ministrations.

Shit, you probably sounded real fuckin’ sweet, all overwhelmed with pleasure.

Again, your mouth parted, letting out a syllable of something Joel couldn’t hear, your tongue flicking out momentarily as you sounded it out.

Maybe it was Joel’s twisted imagination, but he was somewhat sure you had just moaned his name.

You probably didn’t, but it was a nice fucking dream, anyway.

He’d do just about anything to hear his name on your lips, whispered like a prayer or screamed like a plea as he relentlessly pounded into your tight fucking pussy. And, if given the opportunity, he’d fuck you so hard, a slurred babble of name would be the only thing you could say.

A familiar warmth began to pool at the pit of his stomach and his cock tensed even more.

Fuck, he was close.

And, he assumed you were, too, owing to the sheen of sweat on your body glistening under your lamp and the giant breaths you were heaving in.

“C’mon, babygirl.” He encouraged aloud despite being a good distance out of earshot, his voice coming out raspy and low. “Come for me,”

He watched you carefully, waiting for the moment your eyes fluttered shut and your hand stilled so he could close his eyes and imagine fucking his load into your spent cunt.

But no such series of events occurred.

Unexpectedly, however, you pulled your fingers out and flopped over on your stomach to reach for the bottom drawer of your bedside table.

What… the fuck?

Did you come already? Without Joel noticing? Shit, he definitely was too cocky in his familiarity with the female body if he didn’t clock your orgasm.

“Goddamnit.” Joel sighed, his hand coming to a complete stop.

Maybe it was better this way. 

Maybe Joel could still salvage what little morality he retained and beg for forgiveness from the higher powers above—

And no, actually, he couldn’t because, being the dirty fucking whore you were, you pulled out what he recognised to be a dildo from your nightstand.

You stopped fingering yourself to get a dildo from your nightstand.

“Filthy girl,” Joel tutted through a depraved smile, watching with hazy, lust-flooded eyes as you sat back down, spat directly on the tip of the sex toy, and positioned it in front of your weeping pussy.

Who knew that the sweet girl next door, the one who always offered to help carry groceries or to water his plants while he was away, kept a thick fucking dildo near her bed.

Not just any dildo, either, Joel realised.

It must have been his lucky fucking day, because, upon squinting at the unholy sight, Joel discerned that the shade of which the toy was painted almost exactly matched the rich tan of his skin tone.

In other words, it was now going to be much easier to imagine himself fucking you when a close replica of his cock was pistoning in and out of your pretty cunt.

“You gonna put it in, sweetheart?” Joel sighed, his grip tightening around his length as he watched your dawdling.

Fuck, he was going to get humanity’s worst case of blue balls if you stretched this out any longer.

“C’mon, baby. Jus’ put it in. ‘S not that hard,” He all but whined.

He, a man pushing fifty, basically whined. Good lord, what kind of fucking temptress were you?

Thankfully, it seemed as though you heard his words, because right after, you had slid the first few inches inside your walls, gasping at its girth.

“Yeah, there you go.” Joel sucked in a sharp inhale as he thrust up into his fist. “That all? Oh, babygirl, you can give yourself more.”

As if reading his mind, you slowly began feeding yourself the rest of the tanned dildo, throwing your head backwards and chanting that syllable that was so dangerously close to Joel’s name.

For the purpose of that night, Joel took the liberty of imagining it was, in fact, his own name as he fucked up fully into his fist.

When you finally took the toy to the hilt, its fake carved balls pressing against your ass, you started moving it in and out of your drenched seam at a steady pace.

Joel let out a string of incoherent curses under his breath, which quickly turned into strained groans as he mirrored your rhythm, practically feeling the way your pretty pussy clenched around that fake dick.

Your chest was expanding and contracting frantically now and you were no doubt releasing breathy moans from the sensation of fucking yourself with those eight generous inches.

Joel wished he was in that room with you to give you the same and then some. 

He’d kiss his way down to your tits and take a nipple into his mouth, tasting the sweetness of your skin as he bent you in half and made you see stars.

He wouldn’t even have cared too much if you passed out, as long as, when you woke up, he was still driving into you and kissing your cervix with each thrust, sending you barrelling into orgasm after unbound orgasm.

He’d hold out as long as it took to get you completely sated, and even a little more after. Maybe he’d even pop a certain little blue pill just to watch himself fuck his come deep inside you again and again after rounds of laborious exertion.

Joel’s dick twitched again at the mere thought.

And again, upon seeing the sight of you pulling the soaking dildo out of your tight hole and manoeuvering yourself to hover above the thing like you were about to sit on it.

Christ alive. You were going to ride your dildo.

“Shit,” Joel breathed, his eyes widening slightly. God, this would be a treat to watch.

Worrying your teeth on your lower lip, you began to slowly sink down on the toy, a silent scream leaving your parted lips as you steadily took it all the way to the fucking hilt.

Joel, he imagined you to have mewled. Joel, you’re so fucking big.

“‘S okay, sweetie, you’re doin’ real well.” Joel sighed, watching you adjust to the size. “Brave girl, doin’ so good. Now, go on and ride that cock. C’mon, baby.”

And so you did.

Bouncing up and down on the toy, your mouth opening in a steady stream of what seemed to be expletives, and your tits springing from your efforts.  

Fuck, in his forty-something years of life, Joel had never seen such a pretty sight.

And, there you were, repeating that mystery syllable like your life depended on it.

Joel, Joel, Joel, he envisioned you whimpering.

You were close again. He was sure of it. If it wasn’t already painstakingly obvious from the way you were eagerly swiping at your swollen clit.

And so, he finally gave in and began fucking up into his fist—his hips intensely chasing his hand—at the ferocity at which he dreamed to ram inside you, dragging against your velvety walls and feeling as you shivered uncontrollably around him.

He was close, too. Very fucking close.

“Come for me, sweet thing. C’mon. Be a good … fuck, be a good slut for me and come around that cock.” Joel breathed, eyes glued to the display of you feverishly riding the toy.

Then, suddenly, your mouth opened in a long scream as you nearly went cross-eyed.

Shortly after, your face scrunched up in pleasure and your body fell still on the dildo, the only movements being small rolls of your hips against the rubber length as your breathing began to even.

You came.

Fucking finally. 

Joel shut his eyes and pictured driving into your throbbing, dripping cunt, hearing your pitchy whines as he shushed you with little follow-through.

Gonna come inside, he’d tell you in between heavy, strained breaths. To which, you’d frantically alert him of the fact that you weren’t on the pill and the two of you had chosen to forgo the assistance of a condom.

But Joel’d come inside you anyway. Mark up his pretty girl with pearly ropes of his come. And he’d keep you filled up as long as he fucking could.

Before he knew it, Joel was coming hard and fast into his fist, wildly jerking in and out of his grip as he rode out his high.

It took a few more moments for him to slow down, and a good number more for him to stop fully.

“Fucking hell,” Joel sighed as he took a seat on the edge of his bed, reaching over to a nearby table and plucking a few pieces of tissue out of its box to clean himself up with.

Satisfied, he crumpled up the tissues, tossed them into a nearby trashcan and gently tucked himself back in.

His head hung low as he caught his breath and tried not to linger on the dubious ethics of what had just transpired.

While that had possibly been the best jerk in his life, it was undoubtedly very non-consensual. At least, on your side.

After all, you hadn’t explicitly given him permission to fuck his fist to the sight of you doing… whatever fucking marathon that was.

At least, he didn’t think you did.

Until, bing!

Joel angled his head to catch sight of his phone lighting up with a recent notification.

Unsure of who could be texting him at that hour, Joel took it in his hands and unlocked it with a quick swipe of his passcode.

It was a message from you.

You: you gonna keep jerking off across the street or are you gonna come over?

Joel’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. 

So, you had seen him. Possibly even orchestrated the whole ordeal; neglecting to close your blinds on purpose, wearing that bra, and, well, fucking yourself right by your window.

Shit. Well, he couldn’t just come over and fuck you silly … could he?

Then, another text came.

You: home alone.

Joel never put on his shoes faster.

[mclager]

Better in colour | Charles Leclerc x Alexandra Saint Mleux x writer!reader

Face claim: Hailee Steinfeld

Ynforreal

Liked by Charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and others

Ynforreal Somebody tell Charles Leclerc I'm single! Edit: Just discovered he's not, I'm very much sorry, Alexandra!

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User16 she's so real for that!!

User55 Alexandra reading this 🤣

User67 this is actually funny lol

Alexandrasaintmleux You're forgiven!

User81 NOT ALEX COMMENTING

Charles_leclerc 😂

f1wags

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f1wags Alexandra Saint Mleux, Charles Leclerc's girlfriend is seen with romance writer y/n, at the paddock in Imola. All of this after Y/n attempt of flirting with Charles via Instagram.

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User16 Alex is really a great person, I would want this woman far from my man!

ynforreal

Liked by Charles_leclerc, Alexandra Saint mleux and others

Ynforreal Forza Ferrari sempre!

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User5 what?

User98 Alex is a Saint

Alexandrasaintmleux ❤️

User9 What can I say? Go bestie!

Alexandrasaintmleux

Liked by charles_leclerc, ynforreal and others

Alexandrasaintmleux 🌻

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Charles_leclerc ❤️

Ynforreal I need to match your aesthetic more to be on your Instagram, I feel like I'm killing the vibe

→ Alexandrasaintmleux You're perfect to my Instagram don't worry!

→ Charles_leclerc Says the woman that didn't post her own boyfriend because he DIDN'T MATCH THE AESTHETIC!

→ Alexandrasaintmleux She is more aesthetically pleasing!

→ Ynforreal This is real love ❤️

User66 NOT THE GIRL WHO WAS TRYING TO FLIRT WITH CHARLES!

Ynforreal

Liked by alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc and others

Ynforreal I cried a little bit, congratulations @/charles_leclerc ❤️

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Charles_leclerc Thank you ❤️

Alexandrasaintmleux You were more nervous than me!

→ Ynforreal I was!

Charles_leclerc

Liked by Alexandrasaintmleux, Ynforreal and others

Charles_leclerc Great weekend thanks to Ferrari and the best company I could ask for!

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Ynforreal YOU PROMISED I WOULDN'T POST THIS PICTURE

→ Charles_leclerc ops?

→ Alexandrasaintmleux That's what I have to deal with, amor, you need to get used to this now

User16 Alex calling Yn AMOR? If my Spanish 101 is working doesn't this mean LOVE?

→ user89 it does, but can we talk about Alex saying that Yn needs to GET USED TO CHARLES BEHAVIOR??????

→ user55 I say one more CAN WE TALK ABOUT THIS PICTURE?

→ user14 YN AND ALEX LAYING ON CHARLES LAP LIKE ?????????

Ynforreal

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Ynforreal Literature, art and adrenaline

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Charles_leclerc A book about a good looking Ferrari driver from Monaco when?

→ Ynforreal is in the making, but I have to finish the one about a pretty art history student first

→ Alexandrasaintmleux I'll be reading the second one!

User7 Fanfic is getting way too far

Charles_leclerc and 2 others

Liked by Alexandrasaintmleux, Ynforreal and others

Charles_leclerc The answer was yes!! @/Ynforreal is now in the Leclerc Familly! Thank you for telling me you were single in a random Instagram post, and then proceed to steal Alex's heart, you're the best thing that happened to us is a long time. ❤️

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Alexandrasaintmleux I loved every single moment with you two till now, and I'll keep loving you both forever, I'm sure of that! My two Ferrari obsessed lovers ❤️

Ynforreal I have so many feelings that one comment couldn't reflect it, but I can show you both when we're together for the rest of our lives, I love you!

→ Charles_leclerc love you more!

→ Alexandrasaintmleux Love you so much!!!

user7 HOW CUTE IS THAT CHARLES PUT THE PINK FLOWERS THAT MATCH ALEX'S FEED FIRST? THAT'S FUCKING LOVE!

user83 That's something

user92 Kinda ship it?

user90 YES!

user22 Leclerc Familly... That's the cutest shit ever

user12 WHERE IS LEO?

→ Ynforreal He got scared when I started to jump and scream, I'm sorry

→ Alexandrasaintmleux That's a good explanation, but forgot to mention that me and Charles were also jumping and screaming! (Charles was crying too)

→ Charles_leclerc I was

→ user12 That's so cute I'm good cry too...

Scuderiaferarri ❤️

[sillymommy6969]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝖄ES, SUGAR ♱ ℳ.𝓢.

✵ ❪ 𝒚𝒕 𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒐 ❫ ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ms x f!r, katseye 7th member!au, fluff ── disclaimers: jealousy, ya’ll know the drill atp we three chapters deep (read in dark mode!) enjoy xx

ℭatalogue, pt one, two

MEGAN NOT PLAYING AROUND ABT Y/N (PER USUAL)

21.2k likes | 433k views | 19th Mar, 2025

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Clip one: [ TIKTOK + WEVERSE LIVE ] n/nlarz live

“Here in Katseye, we believe in starting strong. No beating around the bush, no stupid sub plot-lines, and definitely no bullshit when it comes to making our fans happy, because that is our number one priority. We make music to make you guys happy, and in turn, that makes us happy. You crazy kids always find a way to entertain us, so we do our part to entertain you.”

user01 omg this hoe is really tokyo drifting circles around the elephant in the room right now

user02 or team really said let’s get our very own shakespeare

user03 not eyekonville successfully cyber bullying y/n into addressing the tiktok yall this fandom is not real

“Oh my God, you’re stalling the hell out of this right now,” Lara snorted, head resting against her fist. The two of you sat at Lara’s desk, the violet LEDs on in the room with the older’s rnb playlist playing softly through her speakers.

You clasped your flushing cheeks into your hands, groaning. “Well, I’m not exactly excited to talk about this!”

Lara scoffed, raising an eyebrow and eyeing the live, as if sharing a knowing look with the fans watching the both of you at home. “You guys really thought you could put something like that out and not spark hellfire in Eyekonville?”

“It was so long ago! I didn’t think it would blow up like that.”

Two years ago, you posted a tiktok on your personal tiktok account of a challenge you and Megan did during your Dream Academy days. It was before the group was formed, and you were kindly instructed to remove it after your debut, but some fan who’s been following you since your predebut days seemed to have reposted it on twitter. The tweet gathered a total of 53M views and 1.2M likes from both eyekons and those unfamiliar to your music. Now fans shamelessly bombarded you with questions about it any chance they got.

The tiktok in question was the two of you doing the lipstick trend to the song “Appcalypse” by Cigarettes After Sex.

You appeared onscreen first, putting on some red lipgloss before the phone panned to black-haired Megan, staring at you, the camera going unnoticed by her dreamy eyes as she stared at you with a gentle smile. Every visible inch of skin littered with a variety of smudged or clear red lipstick marks.

[ holy fucking shit i did six backflips when i saw the tiktok ]

user04 they fr hard launched during da and forgot abt it

user05 deadass i always knew megn/n wasn’t just a figment of my imagination they been sus since da

user06 guys she’s abt to hard launch again act surprised

“You posted it during mission two?” Lara stared at her phone, definitely watching the video once again online. She shook her head, “Damn, I forgot ya’ll were rooming together.”

“Okay, before any of ya’ll put on your tinfoil hats and make up conspiracy theories about this, it was just a trend. Nothing more. We spent a lot of time together during training and we did a lot of challenges like that one, okay?” you stammered, clearing your throat. You thanked all the Gods the room was coloured so the fans couldn’t see your flushed cheeks. “Megan and I are friends—and now roommates, but that’s it.”

user07 oh yeah cuz i do couple trends w my friends too

user09 so this convinced a total of negative a trillion people

user08 i think doechii wrote a song about you honey

Lara giggled at the comments clocking your lies, glancing at your disapproving gaze as she fell back into her swivel chair. You sighed, shaking your head. “Guys, I swear on my mom, it is not what you think! We were just doing a tiktok trend!”

[ y/n baby you’re talented at a lot of things… just not lying ]

“Yeah, guys, come on, she’s being so for real right now…” Lara added in a monotonous tone of mockery. “You wouldn’t want everyone’s favourite Katz to get in trouble now, would you?”

“I do that with all the other girls too—How about this, if I promise to post this video of Sophia and I doing a couple’s yoga trend that was all over tiktok like two months ago, will you guys believe me?” You desperately sought to keep things tame, not wanting unnecessary trouble with your management team. Though, all press is good press, and the 63k people watching you try and make a bad case against dating rumours with your fellow bandmate would attest to that.

user09 kissing all over is different from doing poses tgt

user10 honey we saw the marks leading down meimei’s neck into her shirt you did not have to do allat for a casual trend

user11 i’d never let my bsf kiss me like that even for a trend

[ the look megan gave her though?? how is that platonic??? ]

“That’s the best answer you’re gonna get from my girl,” Lara chuckled, winking at the camera, “If y’all really wanna know what’s up that bad… guess you’ll have to stick with us.”

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Clip two: [ TWITCH ] d4vd x katseye streamathon

“No, have you seen this girl’s roblox avatar? She got that drip. She’s a certified gamer!” Daniela nodded, pursing her lips and giving D4vd an ‘mhm’ as his jaw dropped.

Serves him right for doubting your gaming skills. Silly D4vd.

You held your hands up as he let out an ‘ooh’, crossing your arms. “What can I say… I’m always on that bloxburg grind.”

Lara rolled her eyes playfully, “I’ll say, this bitch will stay in her room and never come out if she didn’t legally sign a contract. y/n and Megan are the most loser-coded, discord server npcs I have ever met. Like all they need is each other and their ipads.”

“Hey, why am I catching strays right now!” Megan whined.

You chuckled, a hand lifting to stroke the small of her back. She readjusted her beanie, leaning forward with a pout. She read the chat’s amused comments on Lara’s words, glancing back at you. “Are you just gonna take that?”

You shrugged, “To be fair, we are pretty addicted, Mei.”

[ it’s giving gentle husky x orange cat duo and im here for it ]

“Yeah, I know y/n’s the boss at dress to impress, we should get her on this.” Daniela moved away from the centre of the frame to make space for you. You slipped between her and the desk, grabbing the ipad from Lara. Daniela’s hands slipped up to grip your hips, locking you in place as she continued to banter.

Sat to the side just a little bit behind Daniela, Megan couldn’t help but eye the both of you every couple seconds.

The chat pointed out how she was doing her signature “laugh then lock in” bit, but in a more “show jealousy then remember she needs to lock in” way. Her eyes would linger on the two of you, on Daniela’s hands caressing your waist, a little too long with her eyebrows slowly furrowing and her smile fading. Then she would remember she was on camera.

user01 ooh somebody’s lookin a little jealousssssss

user02 megan forgot she needs to stay employed for a second

user03 bro’s fr getting war flashbacks rn

user04 what a good day to be a dann/n defender ;)

“Somebody asked if Daniela and y/n are bread and peanut butter, ‘cuz Megan is exactly the jelly they need right now,” D4vd read aloud, eliciting laughter from everybody in the room but a stunned Megan. She sometimes forget Twitch was an American platform and they were allowed to say more things they weren’t allowed on Korean ones like Weverse. But even you seemed to be going along with the teasing. D4vd sighed, “Oh my God, that’s gold, you guys have the best fan base.”

“Oh, Mei, I’m sorry for hogging the ipad. Here, you and I are both experts, if we work together, we should be able to beat these hoes at their own game.” you scorched over, peeling yourself from Daniela’s greedy fingers to make room for Megan. The redhead slid in, indirectly pushing the blonde out towards the edge of the frame, finding herself behind you.

[ y/n is so cute and oblivious oml but she loves megan sm ]

She internally cooed at your blissful ignorance, melting at you doing your best to include her. She’ll take what she could get, her mood immediately lightening up upon taking Daniela’s spot behind you, looping her fingers into the belt hoops of your baggy jeans. You two fell into your own little world, choosing outfits on the game as the others gave you input.

user05 megn/n pda i repeat MEGN/N PDA

user06 girl ain’t nobody looking at the stupid game screen rn

user07 they’re really making the most of the american rules

user08 ah yes there’s my daily megn/n fix

“So are we gonna say anything, or…?” Lara mouthed towards Daniela. She sat to your left, leaning back to gesture at the blonde so the two of you wouldn’t see. Sucked in your own world, on the virtual runway, you and Megan were too entrapped with the game and your fans to notice.

Daniela gave D4vd a look, who didn’t really know what to say. He was pretty entertained by the two of you’s intimate stance.

The blonde eventually shook her head, waving a hand. The three of them moved on to play the game with you two too. Slowly, you moved to sit on Megan’s lap, her arms around your hips and her head over your shoulder.

[ god i’ve never felt more single in my sad and lonely life ]

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Clip three: [ TIKTOK LIVE ] @meretmanon

“I think the plan is. we wake up at 6:30, we get downstairs at 7, get a coffee and maybe a pastry for breakfast, then get in the van and head for the hotel we’re getting ready at.” Manon was gathering her makeup, listing your schedule. She had decided to go live, having nothing to do as she does her makeup to ready for the seven of you heading to Sophia’s family home.

Everybody was gathered in Daniela and Manon’s room, waiting for their eldest member to finish getting ready.

The tiktok live went viral on tiktok after it ended for a couple moments in the background. This was during a time when the company was trying their hardest to manage the group’s image after some threads on twitter with the tag “#megn/n” had gotten out of hand with some unwanted attention.

You were clearly perched in the right bed behind Manon, Sophia, Lara and Yoonchae spread on the other. You rested against the headboard, entranced by the phone in your hand as the other three watched TV.

“Oh my God, don’t even talk about the early morning tomorrow, I’m absolutely dreading it.” Daniela groaned, emerging from the bathroom to stand behind Manon, gazing down at the comments flooding the chat. She caught sight of you sitting in the background, eyeing Megan, who, unknowingly appeared on camera, sauntered her way around the bed to lean over you. The blonde quickly moved to stand in the way of the view, blocking the ordeal from the live.

user01 i saw that. I SAW THAT.

user02 WAS MEGAN LEANING DOWN FOR A KISS WTF

user03 nah they trained daniela to be on it fr

user04 this is some pazzi shit all over again (pls get the ref)

user05 hold me down cuz im abt to go feral

Manon and Daniela shared a look, but neither of them dared to address the compelling topic of discussion amongst the fans.

Later on in the livestream, Daniela eventually moved off to take a call from her parents. Scurrying off, she left Manon in front of the phone, sitting on the floor in between the end of both beds. Lara was laying over the edge of the left one, talking about how excited they were to see the Laforteza’s.

Megan’s feet poked from the right side, hanging off the side of the bed. She suddenly propped herself up, laying on you, who moved just into frame as you laid on the pillow.

Knowing the group had been briefed about keeping the whole megn/n thing under tabs, Sophia nudged Manon, who then moved so her body would cover the two of you once again.

user06 show it to me please SEND IT TO ME RACHEL

user07 oml the gate keeping im foaming at the mouth

user08 so where are all the megn/n deniers now huh??

user09 nah yall can’t cover that up we saw that kiss jn

[ no cuz why were they working so hard to cover things up that live, it’s so funny cuz sophia and the girls were fighting for their lives but megn/n did not gaf like at all ]

When somebody would say things about y/n having a girlfriend or Megan having a boyfriend, Lara would very unsubtly make a face; most of the time it would be a smirk with a raised eyebrow at how ridiculous the comment was.

“y/n, somebody said they want to take you to breakfast,” Manon read aloud, not bothering to even look at your reaction.

A small, mumbled, “better not” from Megan could be heard once the fans enhanced the audio.

[ y/n definitely keeps this girl in check… ]

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Clip four: [ WEVERSE LIVE ] solo mei for the win ;)

“I wish I could read, I’m dyslexic,” Megan cackled, setting her makeup bag down. “I love audio books though, if you guys have any recommendations, I’d love to try them out.”

A knock sounded, Megan’s head snapped towards the door. “Somebody just knocked… hello?”

The door creaked open, and you popped in. “Baby, you forgot to grab your id this morning—!” The way Megan’s eyes widened, you knew you had fucked up on some level. It was only then did you notice the phone and ring light in front of her, and the extremely cautious “oh shit” look on her face.

user01 “BABY”??????????????? HELLO??????????????????

user02 IM FUCKING OVULATING DONT DO THIS TO ME

user03 oh nah oh nah i’m folding hard asf rn

user04 EVERYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP ITS HAPPENING

user05 that has to be y/n l/n i recognize that voice

You thanked God you were still out of frame, setting the id down on the table and gesturing for you having to leave. She doesn’t react or address the situation, clearing her throat. “Anyway, I love audio books. I’m actually better at math than english, so if you guys need help with homework, I’m here.”

user06 nooooo bring y/n back we’ve missed her :(

user07 not megan acting like we didn’t just catch them

user08 WHY ARE YOU ALL SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS???

[ love how they just never talked about this after but i just know they got their ass beat by their pr team ]

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Clip five: [ COSMOPOLITAN ] Katseye Q&A

“y/n, you’ve been known to have a more impulsive tendency, and you’ve mentioned before you love getting impromptu tattoos. What’s the most recent tattoo you’ve gotten, and why did you choose to get it?” The interviewer questioned, the shot quickly cut to the seven of you. In the back row, sat Sophia, Yoonchae, you and Lara, in the front, Daniela, Manon and Megan. Six pairs of eyes turned to you.

“Oh, I, uh—” Caught off guard by the sudden spotlight burning you in place, you shifted, chuckling awkwardly. When you blanked, you began internally panicking.

You hated talking about your tattoos. It made you nervous because you’ve gotten a lot of criticism for it in the media.

“Actually, y/n and I got tattoos together. We wanted to get something that symbolized Katseye’s debut, so she got a (your charm), and I got a dual cherry on the inside of our left ring fingers.” Megan flashed the tattoo towards the camera, the editors zoomed in really quick.

You played along, showing yours as well.

“Oh, wow, that’s really cute!” The interviewer chuckled, “So will this be a ‘all seven of you’ kinda tattoo, or will this stay just the two of you for now?”

Lara groaned, “Oh, girl, trust I will be tatted the hell up in the future. I will be getting my key sooner or later.”

As the conversation shifted, you could feel Megan’s hand slide behind Manon’s to give your thigh an encouraging squeeze. It was a small gesture, but it eased your nerves. You glanced at her, and she shot you a quick wink. It drove megn/n truthers up the fucking wall. Your hashtag trending on Eyekonville.

The interview continued, but in that moment, fans knew, even if it wasn’t plastered on billboards preaching about it, the little relationship, whatever it may be, between you two was sacred.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ ❪ 𝖈alliope 𝖘peaks! ❫ 。 writing this had me giggling and kicking my feet… anyway BREAKIN DISHES PART 4 COMING SOON TO THEATRES NEAR YOU!! keep sending in suggestions and ideas i dont reply to all of them but i read them all! i love you all, happy reading! xx

@sillymommy6969 ©

[illwilledomen]

At the Riverbank

Steve raised his axe high in the air, and with a swift, clean swing, one piece of wood became two. He chucked the two small pieces into his pile, which had grown to a considerable size as he had worked through the morning. Winter was coming soon. The Stonemason family’s eldest daughter had just had a little baby, and Steve wanted to make sure they stayed warm. 

The soft trickling of the nearby creek beckoned Steve over to take a break. He did just that, throwing his axe aside and plonking himself down into the soft riverside grass. He closed his eyes and listened to the water for a moment. 

It was time to practise.

My name is Steve. I live in the village of Creek-in-Meadow. I like the colour blue. I am something called a person. 

Steve opened his eyes again and frowned. Other villagers could say so much more in an introduction, but Steve knew very few things about himself. 

He tried again, gleaning his mind for any information that he was certain was true.

My name is Steve. I live in the village of Creek-in-Meadow. I like the colour blue, and my favourite flowers are poppies. I am something called a person, and I am a Man.

No, he wasn’t sure if he was a Man. He didn’t really know what those were, or how they were different from Women. 

My name is Steve. I live in the village of Creek-in-Meadow. I have a horse named Butterscotch. I like the colour blue, and my favourite flowers are poppies. I am something called a person–

A branch snapped, and Steve shook himself awake. He looked around for the source of the noise. 

For a split second, he saw a pale, freckled face watching him from behind a tree, before disappearing with a frightened gasp. 

The water trickled on, and Steve carefully averted his eyes from the tree.

The face peeked out again. Steve slowly looked back, and once again the blur of white and ginger ducked behind the tree trunk. He decided to fix his gaze on the riverbank below them.

Steve felt a little nervous, but not scared. He had seen them before. Not all too much of them, they were awfully timid, but he’d known they were there.

“Hello.” Steve tentatively called out. “It’s a nice morning.”

The face slowly peeked out. It was rounded and thin, framed with fiery red hair, with big green eyes and freckles. Their nostrils flared with nervous breaths as they clung to the tree. 

“Do you live here?” Steve asked. The face didn’t respond, they only stared, flinching a bit when he spoke. 

“Um… My name’s Steve. I live in– I live in a village, and my favourite horse– My fa– Um, I have a horse.” Steve cursed himself for messing up his carefully planned introduction. “Do… Do you know what a horse is?”

The face seemed to have relaxed a tad, and moved out further from behind the tree. Steve could now see their hair was long, tied into a braid. They also wore a stained green tunic. 

“...You can ride them. Horses.” Steve swallowed nervously. “I don’t live here. I live in a village. In case you forgot.”

The face and body was now a person, standing with only their hand on the tree. They watched Steve curiously, their fear ebbing away slowly but surely.

Steve slowly looked back up, and this time they didn’t flinch when their eyes met. 

“My papa is a cleric. He’s not really– He didn’t get married or nothing, but he found me. I’m not a cleric. My profession is doing things for people. I, um, I like to help. I can make… I can make things too.”

Steve rummaged around in his pockets, before procuring a little wooden statue of a villager. Steve held it out for the visitor to see. “You see it? I made it.”

The figure craned forward, before they crouched down for a better look. They looked back at Steve with a blank expression, though Steve sensed no displeasure. 

“I can make other things too. Like houses. I am real strong. I can make things without getting tired. I dunno why, I was born in a funny way. That’s why my nose is small, see.” Steve pressed a finger into his nose. The figure furrowed their brows in intrigue. They lifted a finger, and pressed it to their own.

“Hey!” Steve grinned. “You’re like me.”

The person’s lips twitched with the ghost of a smile, and they nodded ever so slightly. They glanced to the side, a hint of trepidation in their movement, before they sucked in a breath and pointed to their chest. Out came a toneless, croaky voice, wavering and whistling as if it had not been used for a very long time. “A–leks.”

Steve furrowed his brows. 

“A… Alex. Name is Alex.”

“Oh!” Steve paused, and nodded in understanding. “Hello, Alex.” 

Alex sniffed, nodding back, before pointing at Steve. “Stefe.” 

“Aye! That’s my name.” Steve beamed. “Are you a person?”

Alex nodded. “Yes.”

“So am I. I didn’t know there was anyone else like me.” 

“Me as well.”

“Where’d you come from?” Steve bit back his questions though his mind was on fire. He wasn’t alone! He wasn’t alone!

“Nowhere.”

“Nowhere? Me too. I was found.”

“By village?” Alex glanced to the side nervously.

“Yes. And they are very nice to me.”

“Hm.” Alex trailed off, hunching their shoulders. “Good.”

“Do you want to meet them?” Steve asked, sitting up at the idea. 

Alex shrank back a bit toward the tree. They glanced to the side reluctantly and shook their head. “No.”

“Oh.” Steve hung his head. “Are you sure?”

Alex nodded their head vigorously, their eyebrows knitted together in a fearful expression. “I can’t.”

“Can I still see you, Alex? Outside of the village?”

Alex thought for a moment, before nodding. “Yes. Here.”

Steve’s smile returned. “Okay. Here. I’ll meet you here tomorrow.”

Alex nodded, smiling a bit themselves. “Tomorrow.”

“Goodbye, Alex.”

“...Goodbye, Steve.”

The two departed, having arrived as halves and leaving as whole. They were not alone.

[lamentfulwarbler]

‘Unfortunately more of the wip will not be posted bc blah blah blah’ I AM A LYING LIAR WHO LIES. HERE.

All you need to know about the writing idea that inspired this art wip is that the title of the note i’ve written it down is, and I quote: “AU where the ghosts/spirits/whatever of Jiang Yanli, Mo Xuanyu and Nie Mingjue follow the main cast through their journey from Mo Village onwards”.

I swear I have reasonings for it being these three beyond ‘my blorbos 🥺’— I would never lie to you, people of tumblr— don’t read the top of this reblog I am a very honest man!

This is only being shared in the reblogs of the og post bc I am a wuss. A coward. Last time i posted two of the characters in this together I got a hate comment when my post (which was a fanart of a headcanon btw — not meta) had literally 0 notes and I still have not emotionally recovered.

Edit: Made a comic set in this au because I am A Fool!

Adding a read more because turns out I had a lot to say. Doesn’t always work on mobile apparently, bc of the inherent read more thing they have. So here’s your Yap Warning mobile users!

Explanations time bc I dream to yap.

UH. TW FOR TALK ABT CANONICAL DEATHS (AND HEADCANONS ABOUT SAID CANONICAL DEATHS). TURN BACK NOW IF YOU’RE SENSITIVE TO THAT KIND OF THING!

Of the three, in this piece at least, Jiang Yanli’s status as a ghost/spirit/whatever is the least clear.

THEY ARE NOT VISIBLE TO THE MAIN CAST BTW. THEY CAN TECHNICALLY KINDA SORTA INTERACT WITH THE WORLD AROUND THEM, BUT THEY ARE PRIMARILY JUST WATCHING THEM GO AND YELLING AT THEM IN THE WAY A GROWN MAN IN A FOOTBALL JERSEY YELLS AT THE TV SCREEN WHEN HIS FAVOURITE TEAM MAKES A MISPLAY!

Okay. Now that’s all cleared up!

So. Jiang Yanli is least obvious as a ghost here, simply bc her wound is like. Hidden behind her arm. Not much I could do about that. Honestly she was always going to be the least obvious, simply bc the other two got fucked up during/post death— blame jgy and the soul sacrifice ritual not me! (She is in her regular outfit bc I say so. No rules saying ghosts can’t have different outfits to the ones they died in 🙏)

If you knew the idea but couldn’t see the art, you could be forgiven for thinking Nie Mingjue would be the most visibly ghost. You know. Since he got chopped up. Even in the wip, you can clearly see his neck scar!

You would be mistaken. Why? Because Mo Xuanyu stole the show with his death via

*checks notes*

Being ripped out of his body by resentful energy that was supposed to tear him apart to return him to the earth! 🎉🎉🎉

As seen in the wip, he is just. Constantly surrounded by resentful energy. Not much he can do about that, but hey! It comes with a cool power at least! (It’s not that cool — he can just call small amounts of resentful energy to his being, which will assimilate with the energy already there which may or may not be the Only Thing holding his soul together :D)

That power is actually how Nie Mingjue joins the group btw. Jiang Yanli and Mo Xuanyu were already there (Jiang Yanli was the first there, following Wei Wuxian bc Holy Shit Someone Just Revived Him What The Fuck—, and Mo Xuanyu was there bc. Well he died there. Wanted to watch his revenge in 4k ultra hd I guess), and they noticed that ‘Hey that arm that just killed Mo Xuanyu’s abusers—‘ (thank you nmj, you’re a real one) ‘—has a weird mass of resentful and spiritual energy following it! Huh!’ (The mass also had little wisps trailing off in the directions of Nie Mingjue’s other. Parts. But i didn’t know how to fit that in. So.) Mo Xuanyu, who discovered his resentful energy powers about 0.5 seconds ago, makes the genius decision to pull the mass towards him. The resentful energy doesn’t budge.

The spiritual energy, however, does.

Not only does the spiritual energy separate from the mass of resentment and drift over to them, it is soon joined by spiritual energy from the directions the wisps were trailing. You can imagine jyl and mxy’s shock when the spiritual energy forms into none other than a Royally Confused nmj.

They do not get much time to think on it however, as the arm (which had just gotten finished with Madam Mo) suddenly goes berserk. Turns out that leaving a powerful fierce corpse arm to be controlled only by a high concentration of resentment is a Bad Idea™️.

Anyway I am going to stop yapping now. I promise. I am just,, very normal about this idea.

Don’t ask why Mo Xuanyu is the only one who has filled in hair— i was not about to leave it blank when his other eye would be visible. It would bug me so bad T^T

(Okay. One last yap. Abt the powers.)

Jiang Yanli - is able to interact with the living, but only for brief flashes. Like to, say, push someone out of danger :)

Mo Xuanyu - is able to manipulate small amounts of resentful energy. Only to draw it to himself (stabilising his soul so it doesn’t literally crumble to pieces and Return To The Earth), he can’t use it to harm anyone.

Nie Mingjue - is able to be heard by the living, only for a brief moment, and only if he yells. This one is the least connected to his death, but I think it fits the cruel irony thing considering his death was at least partially caused by nobody listening to his concerns about everyone’s favourite Customer Service Sect Leader.

OH YEAH. THE REASON MXY MY BELOVED IS ABLE TO EVEN BE HERE IS BC JYL WAS THERE WHEN HE PERFORMED THE RITUAL, AND, NOT KNOWING THE FULL TERMS OF THE THING, PULLED HIS SOUL TO SAFETY — IN PART BC SHE THOUGHT THE DESTRUCTION OF HIS SOUL WOULD MAKE THE RITUAL NOT WORK. EVERYONE SAY THANKS TO JYL 🙏

Jiang Yanli is so fun to draw actually— I feel like I’ve reached enlightenment— WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME SHE WAS SO FUN TO DRAW??? T0T

[p0orbaby]

leah and her pregnant wife playing a game with their unborn son or daughter by poking wife’s belly and seeing if they would kick back

and leah and her wife’s son or daughter at one point kicks back so strongly that wife winces

so of course leah makes a remark about them playing for arsenal

-

“Again,” Leah says, deadpan, already smirking, her index finger jabbing your stomach like she’s checking a melon for ripeness. “I think I felt a flutter. Or it was your lunch fighting for survival.”

You swat her hand away, lazy. Not hard. She does it again.

“You’re not a midwife,” you tell her. “Stop poking me like I’m a farm animal.”

“You literally made me watch three hours of midwife TikToks last week.”

“That was educational.”

“You said you were going to start a doula business called Push It Real Good.”

You don’t deny it. You just grin and lift your shirt so the stretch mark oil can breathe. The one that smells like warm almonds and moral superiority. It’s from Liberty, of course—Leah bought three glass bottles, a sort of artisanal bribe after she flew to Hilversum for a Nike shoot and forgot to tell you until she was already boarding the plane. Said it “slipped her mind.” Like The Netherlands is a quick stop on the District Line.

She pokes again, gentler this time. You shift, propped on a stack of cushions that cost more than your entire sixth-form wardrobe. Two of them are covered in Liberty print, one’s vintage Hermès you found on eBay, and the last is technically from Homebase but you told Leah it was Scandinavian minimalist and she bought it because she trusts you.

There’s a pause.

Then it happens—sharp, violent. A thump from the inside, like your unborn child is trying to escape through your abdominal wall with the kind of aggression you usually reserve for group chats where someone says “this could’ve been an email.”

You flinch. Visibly. Involuntarily. Like someone’s kicked you in the stomach from the inside, because, well, they have.

“Jesus,” you breathe. “What was that?”

Leah leans in, eyes wide, like she’s listening for a bomb.

“I told you. Playing for Arsenal. That’s a left foot, that. That’s not a normal kick. That’s a Katie McCabe trying to get sent off kick.”

You laugh so hard you wheeze. It feels good until it doesn’t and you wince again, reaching for the water bottle you pretend is just for hydration but is actually to fend off the acid reflux that now has a habit of cropping up every 45 minutes. You read somewhere that heartburn in pregnancy means the baby will have loads of hair. You tell Leah this. She looks at you like you’ve joined a cult.

“What if it’s true?” you say, defensive. “What if they come out like a tiny hairy Gallagher brother?”

“If our kid comes out looking like Liam Gallagher, I’m leaving.”

“Which one’s the hot one again?”

“They’re both shaped like someone drew a face on a brick.”

You both pause.

Then Leah pokes again. Another kick.

“She’s got my attitude,” you mutter. “That’s payback for yesterday when I called her dramatic.”

“You were crying because the Deliveroo driver forgot your peri-peri mayo.”

“It’s hormonal.”

“You called it ‘betrayal of the highest order.’”

“Well. It was.”

You pull your hoodie back down—it’s one of Leah’s, oversized and worn soft at the cuffs. There’s a faint smell of her perfume on the collar, which is either comforting or makes you want to sob, depending on your mood or how many almonds you’ve eaten that day.

“She’ll be a striker,” Leah says. “I’ve already decided.”

“She?”

“Well, she just kicked you like she was making a point. That’s a woman, babe.”

You tilt your head, raise an eyebrow. “Bit sexist.”

“She can play up front for Arsenal. Score last-minute goals. Rip her shirt off in the rain. People’ll write poems about her ankles.”

You stare at her.

“You’ve got a plan,” you say.

Leah shrugs. “I’ve got a spreadsheet.”

Of course she does. You’ve seen it. It’s colour-coded. It’s titled Little W. It includes hypothetical kit sponsorships, birthday party themes, schools in North London with elite girls’ football teams, and a three-tab list of names that have been thoroughly vetted for potential playground nicknames. Nothing that rhymes with ‘fart’ or ‘snot’. Nothing too posh. Nothing you can’t shout across a park without sounding like a knob.

You lie back, the baby kicking again, this time with less venom and more rhythm. A sort of steady tap-tap-tap, like someone knocking on a wall three floors down.

“She likes that,” Leah says, ear pressed to your belly like she’s tuning into pirate radio.

“Maybe she’s communicating.”

“What, Morse code?”

“She’s asking for peri-peri mayo.”

You both laugh again, the kind of laugh that aches a little in your ribs now, because everything aches. You don’t remember what it’s like to stand up without grunting. You’ve lost sight of your feet. The last time you shaved your legs, you nearly blacked out. And yet Leah still looks at you like you’re the best thing she’s ever seen.

She strokes your stomach again, softer now.

“I love her already,” she murmurs. “Even if she plays for Chelsea.”

You gasp. “Take that back.”

“I won’t,” she says, smiling. “I’d still love her.”

“Even if she supports Spurs?”

Leah pauses.

“Let’s not joke about that.”

The baby kicks again. A little nudge. A reminder.

“She agrees,” Leah says. “Definitely Arsenal.”

You glance down at your belly, where your hoodie is stretched taut like a drum.

“You’re all on the same team now,” you say.

Leah kisses your stomach once, then your cheek. You can feel her smile against your skin. She says it again, under her breath this time, like a vow: “Definitely Arsenal.”

And you don’t say it out loud, but you believe her.

[darling2411]

Whatever it takes

Jason Todd x Reader

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Oh how the tables have turned. 

Instead of him watching you your eyes are currently attached to him and every little movement he made. You are extremely aware of everything he does and how much space he seems to take up in your tiny apartment. 

Everytime he shifts on your couch you can see his muscles ripple. Has your sofa always looked this small ? Not only was his presence a constant reminder that an incredibly hot guy was in your apartment, but his sheer size made it impossible to ignore him. It wasn't really bothering you though, looking at him didn't hurt. His face was extremely handsome. Sharp jaw, full kissable lips and eyes that were made for falling in love. And his body? He looked like one of these statues of greek gods but better because he was real and laying on your fucking couch waiting for you to finish making food so you could talk some more. 

Shit you totally forgot the food with the way you were ogling him. 

‘I wouldn't mind eating him for lunch’ the thought races through your mind, wow that was not, you- alright time to calm down.

He was a stranger, a handsome one and he safed you but this was inappropriate. How would you feel if he was staring at you and imagining all the ways he could manhandle you with that strength he sure as hell held, judging from the size of his biceps? 

The answer is great, you would feel great. You definitely wouldn't say no, if he decided to press you against a wall. 

Alright, dangerous territory. 

You have to steer your thoughts to safer waters if you don't want your panties to be completely ruined.

Ugh, even the back of his head is attractive. 

Alright, too much staring, back to making lunch.

Jason could feel your eyes on him. And he isn't complaining. 

He is attracted to you, that much is clear as hell from the way he was following you around for weeks and watching you intensely. He noticed everything you did, everything you wore. And there was never something he didn't like. 

All of you in every shape, form or colour was appealing to him. And he wanted it all to himself. 

He wants to get lost in your perfect body. Spend hours worshipping at the altar that is your hips and get lost in the religion on your lips. 

But he also wants to take care of you. Protect you and make sure you are okay and have everything you need. He wants to hold you and dance with you in the refrigerator light. 

He wants you and he is going to do everything in his power and beyond to get you.

Whatever it takes. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Taylor Swift references anyone ?

[leclerity]

just another stranger

Charles Leclerc x Ex-Girlfriend!Reader count: 1.4k words summary: After Charles's win in Monaco, he seeks you out, to mend things. a/n: everybody cried at the monaco gp but let's cry some more! (happy ending)

He wins in Monaco. You knew he would—it was only a matter of time—but you always thought you’d be by his side when he won.

Yet here you are, in your friend’s apartment, watching him as if you were just another stranger to him.

“He won,” your friend says, a moment too soon, and then: “CHARLES LECLERC WON IN MONACO!”

The room erupts into cheers and you’re watching half the race playing on the TV, half the track from the window, hearing the roars of the audience match those of your heart. Your friend hugs you and the rest of your friends are screaming, popping champagne as if they were the ones in the car, not your ex-boyfriend.

You feel an arm around your shoulders – it’s your best friend. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure?”

“Promise,” you lie. “I’m fine.”

She goes away and you lean out of the window, hoping to catch the sight of his car passing by. If he drives slowly enough, if he remembers that this is where your best friend’s apartment is, if he looks up… You tell yourself not to hope, but your heart thumps in your chest, anyway.

The roars of the crowd come before the car, and then you see him – the striking red car with 16 stuck to the front. You’ve been here before—in Monaco, with him, in the paddock—yet now you’re watching him from a distance. It was his choice, all those months ago, but your final word.

He doesn’t look up.

Not that you see, anyway.

The victory lap finishes and your friends all rush to the couch to watch the podium, even though you can just about see if from the window. It’s not close enough to see anything more than tiny figures, dressed in splotches of colour, but it makes it just a little more real.

The podium comes and goes. You tear up, on the balcony, shifting between looking at the events in real life and on the TV. There’s the tiny voice in the back of your head, wondering if he’s wondering about you, too, but you try to push it down.

Still, on the podium, even with tears of joy in his eyes, you see him searching the crowd. They’ve already shown his family and most of his friends are down there and he knows it, and the voice suggests he might be looking for you, too.

“Let’s go out,” your friend says. “Celebrate.”

“I think I’ll sit this one out.”

“You don’t want to meet him by chance? Congratulate him yourself?”

You give her a look that tells her it’s just about the last thing you want.

Eventually, your friends leave, and you’re left by yourself, scrolling social media. He’s everywhere—all your friends from Monaco are posting about it, even those you haven’t seen since you moved away—and his face stares at you, guilt brewing in your stomach.

You’d made him choose.

He didn’t choose you.

When the door buzzes, you think it’s your friend who forgot her key—they’ve been out for a couple of hours now and they’d be at least a few drinks down—yet when you buzz them up and open the door…

It’s he who stares back at you.

“Hi, Y/N,” he says. “Can we talk?”

You let him in. He sits on the couch, still wearing his Ferrari shirt,

“I thought you’d have gotten changed by now.”

Charles shakes his head. “I, uh… I came straight here.”

You sit down, opposite of him. Through the open window, you can hear life from the streets of Monaco – loud, drunk people, celebrating the win as if it were their own. Your friends are there, amongst those people, but you…

“Why?”

“I know you moved away,” he says. “And I remember where your friend lives. And I hoped…”

He doesn’t finish. You see the cogs turning—the words flying around his brain, refusing to come out—and you smile at him. “Congratulations.”

He sighs. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“You’re not happy?”

“No.” Charles looks at you, his eyes crystal clear, and you know exactly what he’s going to say. “How could I be, without you?”

“Charles—”

“How many times have we spoken about this? About the win, at home, with you by my side?”

Your body shudders as memories flood you: the nights spent together, whispering about it in the dark… The dream of him driving up the car and running up to kiss you, knowing that you made it… The promise of being there to watch him step on the podium as the anthem is played…

The guilt grows bigger, and you stifle a sob.

Charles shakes his head. “I wish you were there. I wish I hadn’t pushed you away. I wish I’d appreciated you more.”

But you didn’t, you want to say, but you don’t.

Old you would. Old you wanted to be the first, the priority, the number one to the great Charles Leclerc – only to always fall second, behind racing. Behind the car. Behind practice. Behind excercise. There was less and less time made for you, until you told him to choose.

He puts a hand on your knee. “I know this isn’t fair, but it’s been nearly a year, and I… I was wrong. I was wrong, okay? Coming home to an empty bed, not knowing how your day’s been, not seeing you in the paddock every race, Y/N, it’s killing me.”

It’s killing me, too, you want to say, but you don’t. You can’t—won’t—admit that out loud.

Someone’s laughter pierces through the night. Charles’s eyes dart to the window before they’re right back on you and he moves closer, and the part of your thighs touching shocks you to the core.

You try to remind yourself you’re just another stranger to him. You weren’t worth more than racing to him then, you’re not worth—

“You’re everything to me,” he whispers.

A tear falls down your cheek – he wipes it away before you can, and then he’s looking at your lips with water welling up in his eyes, too.

“Charles…”

“I wish I could—I want to go back to a time before it was too late. I want to fix things. I want to do it right, and not be a damn fool again.”

His hands are on your cheek and you can feel his breath on your lips – all it would take is for you to lean in. Just a little movement, just a little show of faith. You whisper his name again, this time no more than a breath.

You feel him sigh. “It’s not winning if it’s not with you.”

Your lips are on his, tentative then desperate, trying to make up for all the words you can’t bright yourself to stay. His hands are on your cheeks, then your waist, then your back, and you feel like he’s touching you all over just to make sure you’re real, that he’s truly holding you, and not a dream.

You don’t say that the past few months have been the worst of your life. You don’t say that you were selfish, and that maybe you failed to account for who he is, and always will be—a racer—and maybe you were the one who was asking too much from him. Maybe you’d rather be second to him, than be anyone else’s first.

And maybe you’ve known this all along, but admitting it was too much – until today.

Until now.

The kiss comes to a close and Charles pulls you into him, skin on skin, and you’re melting into his arms. He places kisses all over your hair, your face, your neck and your chest, not letting go of you even for a moment.

Later in the night, when you’re lying in your friend’s spare bed, you see the winner’s smile for the first time as he kisses you yet again. Monaco is alive outside, with the night still a long way to go, but partying couldn’t measure up to the electricity surging from his touch.

“Y/N,” he says.

“Mhm?”

His thumb traces your lips. You’ve been here before—a million times—but this time, it’s different. It’s old and new, fresh and familiar, and just a little, you start letting yourself hope again.

“Now, I feel like I’ve finally won.”

[miley1442111]

birthday fights & other lies- a.hotchner

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

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

summary: aaron forgot your birthday which spirals into something much deeper.

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem baureader

warnings: cheating, panic attack, fighting, no happy ending :(

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

12:08. Your birthday was over. 

And Aaron hadn’t said a thing. 

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

1pm that day

“Happy birthday Y/n!” Spencer smiled, handing you a small cupcake with a lit birthday candle on it. The icing was pink, strawberry, your favourite. The cupcake was vanilla, with little sprinkles in it that made it all the more colourful. 

“Thank you,” you chuckled as he pulled you into a hug, his long arms and tall stature dwarfing you in his hold. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Well, I wanted to,” he shrugged. “I have tickets to a play this weekend, it’s in the Ford’s Theatre so it’ll be a bit of a drive but-”

“I’d love to go. Thank you Spencer,”  you smiled. “When is it?”

“Tomorrow night at 7pm, we can get dinner as well, my treat.”

“Thank you Spencer,” you smiled and hugged him again. 

When you’d woken up that morning, you’d been alone in your bed, despite it being full of two people the night prior. Aaron had come over, as he usually did on Thursday nights. He’d get off work late and something in him made him drive to your small townhouse, and fuck you in your bed. He’d spend the whole night convincing you he loved you, only to pretend it never happened the next day. It was like clockwork. 

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

3pm that day

“Happy birthday sweetheart,” Derek smiled, placing a card and a gift box on your desk. 

“Thanks Derek,” you smiled and hugged him close. Earlier Penelope, Jj, and Emily had dropped off gifts at your apartment this morning, and you all had plans to go out to dinner tonight.

David had mailed you a gift, and an invitation to his home for Sunday with the rest of the team. Everyone had accepted, apart from Aaron. 

When you thought about it, you didn’t know much about the unit chief you served under, in more ways than one. You knew he was kind and tender, but only behind closed doors. You knew he was intelligent and pragmatic, good at his job, and logical.

But what was he really to you? Fuck buddies? Friends with benefits? Was this a power imbalance? Were you doomed to never know?

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

Your phone dinged and you turned it on, tired from the night with the girls. 

Are you awake? Aaron asked.

Not for you.

What do you mean?

I don’t know if you noticed but it’s kind of an important day. 

What do you mean?

I’m 24 now. You missed my birthday.

He didn’t respond for a few minutes. 

I’m sorry. 

I don’t care. Don’t call or text me again. I’m not just your fuck doll, I’m a real person. 

I know that.

Then act like it Aaron. For fuck’s sake. 

I love you.

No you don’t. 

I’m coming over.

The door’s locked.

We have to talk Y/n.

Read 12:14am

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

Knock, knock, knock.

“Fuck off,” you called from your kitchen, ignoring the banging on the door. 

“We have to talk,” he demanded. 

“No we don’t. We’re not anything anymore.” 

“Please Y/n,” his voice sounded a lot more… emotional than you were used to. Raw and unusually soft. Aaron did everything he way he led the team, with confidence and strength, that included your sex life and relationship. Not once had he been vulnerable the way you’d been. You’d spent nights thinking about your future together and the way you’d tell the team. He’d been asleep beside you, or in his own bed. 

You unlocked the door and he came barging in, engulfing you in an all-consuming kiss. For a moment, you allowed yourself to be swept up in the moment, imagining this is what he’d wanted to do all day but he couldn’t, the team didn’t know you two were together. You pulled back and crossed your arms. 

“Hi,” you sighed, trailing back into the kitchen with him hot on your heels. 

“Hi my darling,” he smiled softly. “I’m so sorry I forgot about today, I just… it slipped my mind, it’ll never happen again, I swear.” 

“Aaron, it really hurts that you just… forgot about today. I’m not asking for a gift, I just wanted… acknowledgement. Is that too much to ask?” Your eyes trailed down to his hands where his fingers played with a… wedding ring? 

What the fuck? Aaron had never spoken about being married. He’d never told you he was married. You would never, ever be the one to break up a marriage. Ever. 

“Are you married?!” You shouted. Anger bubbling in your stomach like bile. “You fucking asshole!”

8 months of your life, wasted. Someone else’s entire marriage ruined. All because of his selfish actions. 

“What? No,” he shrugged, then realised his fuck-up. His hands solidified themselves in his trouser pockets and he started. “I thought-”

“Are you separated? Who is she? Did I really just become a homewrecker?!” 

“Baby please-”

“NO! Do not ‘baby’ me! Tell me everything about this woman right now! Do you two have kids?!” 

“Yes,” he answered and you genuinely stopped breathing. 

“W-what? So- so this entire fucking time y-you’ve been mar-married,” you panted, a hand over your chest to try and make yourself breathe, but you were. You were having a panic attack. Aaron could see the signs. He walked closer but then noticed the way you were shielding yourself from him, making your body smaller, leaning down, and ultimately ending up on the floor as you shut your eyes and tried to focus on breathing.

“Yes.” 

“Why didn’t y-you tell me?” you rasped. 

“We’re getting a divorce.”

“What!? I ruined a marriage? Y-you’re getting a divorce? Is it becau… because of me?”

“Yes and no,” he answered, just observing you, his voice calm and assertive, like it always is. 

“What the fuck does that mean!?” you shouted. Thank god your walls were thick and the neighbours next door wouldn’t hear a thing. This would’ve been awkward to explain at the next neighbourhood meeting. 

“I didn’t tell her… about you. She asked for a divorce on her own terms, but we were already separated the first time me and you had sex.”

“So then how is this about me?” you were calming down, Aaron could see it. It fucking hurt that you were anxious of him like that. That he’d set off a fucking panic attack and you wouldn’t even let him within meters of you. 

“I signed her papers the day she sent them over. Because I’m in love with you.”

“Aaron, what the fuck? Me and you aren’t in a relationship, you’ve made that very clear. The only thing we do is fuck in my house! We don’t go on dates, we don’t celebrate each other’s birthdays, as you’ve so kindly demonstrated, and we aren’t ‘together’. You aren’t there when I wake up every morning, and you don’t come home with me from work in the evenings. You keep telling me that you love me but where is it? Where is this supposed love? I don't see it, do you?”

“I love you. I love that you call me out on all of my bullshit,” a step closer. “I love how smart and driven you are,” another step closer. “I love the little notes you leave on everyone's desks,” his hands wrap around your waist. “I love how good you are at your job,” a small kiss over the fabric of your jumper. “I love how you care about other people,” a kiss to your neck. “I love the little things you do to make me laugh throughout the day,” a kiss to the cheek. “I love everything about you,” a kiss to the lips. “And I’m so sorry that I ever made you feel like I wasn't completely and utterly devoted to you.”

“I don’t trust you at all,” you admitted, a sad smile on your face. “I’ll never trust you again.”

Aaron’s heart broke, but he understood. He’d been lying to you for months, what did he expect? He didn’t tell you he was a father, a husband. For god’s sake he’d take his ring off in the car every morning. It’s not like him and Haley weren’t rocky. Had this divorce been a long time coming. Had he only been served the papers two weeks ago? Yes. Had he and Haley just separated? Yes. Did he still live with her and Jack? Yes. What was one more lie if it meant he got to keep you? Lying to you was killing him, but it was also saving him, because it meant you were his. His girlfriend, hsi love, his everything.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” he promised. 

“I don’t want to see you again,” you sniffled, small tears running down your cheeks. 

“Please-”

“Just leave. Like you always do.”

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

And Aaron did. When you showed up to work the next week, it was Spencer who was clinging to you like a lost puppy. 

Something must’ve happened at the play.

Now Aaron had truly lost you.

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

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[jisungchan]

i'll like you!

pairing/au: yunho and afab/fem reader, nonidol! au general content/summary: unspoken romantic feelings, tension, years of no contact, strained childhood best friends, friendship rekindling, childhood home town, NO race specific descriptors (skin colour, hair texture, etc.), NO body type specific descriptors (size of reader body parts, weight, etc, BUT reader is alluded to being smaller than yunho in terms of general height.) genre: childhood friends to lover's trope, some angst (a stretch tbh), some fluff, smut

⚔︎ sexual content warnings (explicit): bigdick!yunho agenda, raw sex (do NAWT do this), he does pull out (AND THE PEOPLE CHEERED), riding, f!receiving and m!receiving oral, marking and biting, soft dom!yunho, kinda sub!reader, pet names, lmk if i forgot anything :D 

~5k word count nets: @mirohs-aurora-society and @illusionnet

a/n: secret santa event for @mirohs-aurora-society. this piece is dedicated to @kpop---scenarios , i hope you enjoy being wrecked (no pun intended) by yunho! <3

a/n2: i most def forgot to put a page break when i first posted this SORRYYY

the train ride going from the city to your hometown was always a peaceful one. hours sitting in the cushioned seat, stares between the landscape out the window and the book in your hands. sure, in reality the chairs weren’t that comfortable, and the scenery was sometimes dreary and grey, but lucky days like this… it’s perfect. 

even though it’s just a short, few hour trip to your countryside hometown, it’s still a journey you rarely take. with your life finally settling in the city, you hardly find the time to carve out of your busy schedule to visit your family. for the holidays this year though, you managed to take a week off for christmas and new years. this was time for you to fully relax away from all your responsibilities and spend some much needed time with your family back home.

when you finally arrive at the train station, you stand up to stretch your stiff limbs, idly standing to wait for the rush of the passengers to get off the train first. once the train cleared out, you stepped into the aisle, reaching up high to get your luggage store in the overhead. 

before you could even stand on your tip-toes to reach a bit higher, you felt a large presence behind you, grabbing your luggage before you could even react. and just as quickly as they came into your space, they left. 

shaking off the interaction, you wheel your suitcase off the train, stepping down onto the platform to be met with a warm, strong hug from your mother.

“y/n! i’ve missed you so much sweetie.” she says, grabbing your face in both of her hands and giving you a kiss on your head. you cover her hands with your own as you smile at her, 

“i’ve missed you too mom.” 

your mother drives you back home, to your real home. the house you grew up in from when you were born, to when you moved away. the oh-so familiar drive of snowy streets and dim light poles shines in your eyes as you approach your childhood home. you get in, put on some warmer attire, and decide to go for a walk. riding on a train in the same small seat for hours makes you want to reconnect with your limbs. 

you take the same route you used to when you were a child. weaving through the small, quaint neighbourhood you run into some familiar faces, all of which are more than happy to see you. it wasn’t until you reached one house in particular that your body froze up, despite all of your bundled layers. 

outside of the perfect, white picket fence house was none other than the very woman who has ran it, the very woman who raised the kid you used to be inseparable with, the very reason why this was your go-to favourite route. 

“y/n, i didn’t know you were back home too!” she waves for you to come closer as she hurries down her driveway to envelop you in a hug, similar to your own mother’s gestures earlier. 

“hi ma, it’s nice to see you.” you giggle, and then you remember her choice of wording, “wait, what do you meant, ‘too’?” 

“oh, you didn’t know? yunho just got back home today too! he went out somewhere with his father, he should be back soon.” she smiles, and right on time, the old 1950s cadillac pulls into the driveway as ma pulls you closer toward the house. 

“why don’t you come in and have some tea? we can all catch up!” she says excitedly, then rushing to go greet her soon, leaving you with no time to deny her offer. 

and there steps out yunho, your childhood best friend. the kid who taught you how to ride a bike, then a skateboard, then drive a car, likewise the kid who would make fun of you for being terrified of all three of those activities. also the same kid who dragged you out of the house at 2am to satiate his foodie cravings. while there are many fond memories of your friendship, there are also some more unpleasant ones. 

before you could think further about your history with yunho, the very man was standing right in front of you. you quickly greeted his father as he and ma went into their house, leaving you and yunho to bask in the awkwardness in the air.

“y/n…”

“yunho…” 

all it took was a strained muttering of each other’s names for the fog of tension to strangle around your throat, feeling the pressure of what to say next heavy on your chest. your mouth opened again to speak, but nothing came out. it seemed even yunho was speechless, which itself was a rare occurrence. 

“ma invited me in for tea.”

“is that so?” he questioned, looking you in the eye with a million and one thoughts in his mind, many of them questions unanswered. 

“yeah, can you just– can you just tell her i’m tired? that i’m heading home?” you pleaded, exhaustion becoming apparent on your face as your features sunk. the exhaustion was a mental one though, just a few minutes back in yunho’s presence and feelings you buried years ago are being unwillingly dug up from the depths of your heart. 

“no.”

“no…?” you confusingly utter back, a bit startled at his brash response. for all the years you’ve known yunho, you have never known him to be unmoving, even toward those who may have deserved it. you stutter over your next words, letters strung together to bind an incomprehensible sentence of mashed up words. this dazed thinking around him started once your friendship dwindled down into missed calls and hurried ‘heys,’ no longer sharing that same excitement around each other as once was. 

“just come in, y/n. don’t make things weird, okay? it’ll be fine.” and so you went, yunho ushered you to go in first as you made the stroll to his porch. the same decorations hung up from all those years ago, back when the world seemed so big. 

walking into the home also felt the same, the jeong’s signature house scent of warm sandalwood and vanilla hit your nostrils, as well as the aroma of freshly brewed tea sitting at the kitchen table. shimmying out of your shoes and bundles of warmth, yunho graciously took your coat and scarf to hang them on the rack. when you turned to start walking toward the table, you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders, forearm firmly resting on your collarbones, holding you in pace. honestly, he could have just brushed his fingertips along your arm, and you would have stopped dead in your tracks. 

frozen in place, you feel the blush rise up your body, spreading across your cheeks in a pinkish hue. the way he stills behind you feels eerily familiar, but when he places his hand atop of your head to pull your hair off, all tangible thoughts leave your mind. and when he smooths out your hair from your hat, it takes everything in you to keep a straight face as his parents are in front of you, mindlessly chatting away. finally, he releases you, and only when he comes from around you to loop his hand around your wrist do you move, pulling you to take a seat at the table. 

“i made your favourite tea, y/n! i remember how much you loved it, and i would make a fresh pot every time you came over.” ma giggles as she kindly pours the steeped hot water into your teacup, the same one which has been delegated as yours. 

“thank you, ma. it’s even better than i remember.” you smile as you sip the warm-hot tea, letting the mixture coat your throat in a soothing stream. his parents engaged you in a simple conversation, asking what you’ve been up to, your job, where you’re staying, and all of the other catch up questions. 

some time passes by, tea is long gone, and yunho has barely spoken a word. it’s mostly you and his parents conversing back and forth, with him sitting back and observing. as you’re busy in the mixed feeling of the nostalgia of your childhood and the excitement of your new life, yunho is stuck in the past. his own mind is filled with thoughts of you when you both were young, carefree, and only focused on the feeling of sneaking out late to go on a drive. yunho still remembers the way your hair would flow in the wind when you would stick your head out the window. you let the breeze flutter your eyelashes like butterflies and hair cascade back even more beautifully than a waterfall, even all the way back then yunho saw you as his world. in his eyes, you were so perfect that even god up above took inspiration from your beauty, creating the world from your very image. nothing or no one can compare to you, especially now as you sit, catching up with his parents as if they were your own, which they practically were. he adored the way his mother doted on you, and how his father saw you as the daughter he never had. his whole life was in front of him, and he wanted to take it all in to never forget it. he hasn’t seen you in years, who’s to say the next time you’ll sit down in his home, let alone see you again?

losing track of even more time, you glance down at your watch to see the time has quickly passed. look out the front room window, you see the night has turned pitch black. you get up, mentioning how you better get home before it gets too late and your mother worries too much. his parents stand with you, walking you toward the food as you put your belongings back on, preparing yourself for the still and chill of the late, snowy night. 

“yunho, walk her home! it’s too late for a lady to walk by herself!” ma says, pushing yunho by his shoes, ushering them to quickly put them on to get you home. all that comes from him is a small chuckle and an “okay, mom,” completed with a playful eye roll. after your final goodbyes to his parents, along with a (forced) promise to see them again before you go back to the city, you and yunho embark on your 30 minute walk back to your home. 

for the first 15 minutes, there was silence. not a word had been spoken directly to each other since you first saw him in his driveway. at this point in the walk, you pass by a convenience store, you tug on yunho’s sleeve and motion toward the store. you both turn to walk into the shop, still silent, enveloped in a stiff warmth and fluorescent lighting. 

you head in and grab some of your favourite snacks, making sure at least one is hot to munch on for the rest of the way back home. you meet back up with yunho at the register, where he wordlessly pays for your snacks. you thank him as you both take a seat at the bench in the front of the store, opening the bag to eat. 

all that could be heard was the crunches and swallows from the break, you and yunho are separated by the ‘thank you’ bag between you two on the bench. eventually, you decide to break the silence. 

“yunho, what have you been up to?” albeit, you were a bit nervous asking, he has barely spoken to you, but it’s also been years since your last encounter, and you can’t really blame him for acting a bit distant, especially since you are too. 

back before you left, your friendship with yunho was already near its end. the future you both always dreamed of for yourselves was coming near, and so it lessened the time you spent together. when you were kids, the world was nothing but your toy to play with, you both would do whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted, with no thoughts of what the next day would bring. with age though, comes time to think a bit more about your future. as things in each of your personal lives got more serious, your bonding time took a huge hit as there was just not enough time in a day. what yunho didn’t know was your underdeveloped feelings for him. it wasn’t until you moved away when you realised that everything you did together in your mind was romantic masked as platonic. the way you would go out of your way to include him in everything, even your own celebrations did not feel complete without him by your side. the way you immediately felt at ease near him, whenever you had a tough day, you could count on going over to yunho’s to lay on the couch in his basement, feeling the tension leave your body the moment you felt his arms around you. the way when he got his first girlfriend you had an overwhelming sense of dread and jealousy, feelings you thought were just because you didn’t want to be seen as the stereotypical girl best friend in love with her best friend. 

well, his relationship with her didn’t last long. you weren’t sure why, but you didn’t question it when yunho called you over to hang out as soon as they broke up. 

so to go from unplanned hangouts to barely being able to spend 15 minutes alone together is a big difference, and both of you were feeling the weight of it. 

“i moved to the city, got into the career field i always dreamed of, got my own place, my own car. living the dream i guess you could say.” he gives a half-assed smile as he looks down at his hands. to anyone else, he’s right that he’s ‘living the dream,’ but you know it’s far from what he wanted when he was younger. 

“you don’t sound too sure, it’s okay to still want more, or even something different.” you offer as a small piece of condolence. 

“hah, it’s okay… i’ll be complete soon now.” he finishes his sentence as he looks up from his hands. his eyes want to meet yours, but he can’t bring himself to do it. you both get up, stuffing the plastic bag with the wrappers and leftovers from your small snack. the rest of the way back to your place is still quiet, but the comfortable silence you once shared before the reality of the world settled in. it was nice to be back in yunho’s presence, and you could have sworn he’s walking a bit closer next to you.

finally arriving at your own driveway, yunho stands at the edge, seemingly waiting for you to get in the house before he walks off back to his own. 

“come in, i’m sure you’re hungry.” you smile as you tug his arm in a similar way to how he looped his hand around your wrist, dragging him to your front door.

after getting in and removing your outerwear, you find a note at the kitchen counter. 

“i had to run out for a bit to pick up some stuff for your stay. i’ll be gone for a few hours, there’s plenty in the fridge to make yourself something to eat! love, mom.” 

you chuckle as you show yunho the paper, he sits down on a stool opposite of you. 

you start rummaging through the fridge and pantry, eventually finding all the right ingredients to make yunho’s favourite dish. 

“how about that, remember how you used to eat an entire pot of this?” you laugh, reminiscing about him forcing you to make this meal on cold nights like this. 

“yes, and now i can’t wait to do it again.” he laughs back, getting up to help you in the kitchen. he goes to the sink, rolling up his sleeves to wash his hands. you can’t help but watch as the water flows down his palms, dripping off the tips of his fingers. he turns to dry his hands as soon as you snap your head the other direction, suddenly very interested in the produce in front of you.

the faint sound of music playing from a record player fills the gaps between your banter and the chops and plops of cooking. it doesn’t take long before everything is done, and all that is left is to let the meal simmer for a bit in the oversized pot. you tell yunho you’ll be back, deciding to run into your room to change as you’re still in your travel clothes. 

yunho makes himself busy in the kitchen, he hears the shower start and finally settles on sitting at the couch. on the coffee table in front of him lies a few photo albums, and he flips through them. among the family photos are countless with him in them. every birthday party, he was right next to you as you blew the candles out your cake. when you got the decision email from your dream school, which you got a scholarship to, he was right next to you, his hand over yours on the mouse. when your favourite aunt got married and he went as your date, your attire matching as you danced together on the dance floor. every moment of your life where he didn’t belong, you made him belong. 

back in your room, you’re still draped in a towel as you search through your drawers to find some comfy clothes to wear. you’re dressed in your underwear, preparing to put on some lotion, when you hear a knock at the door that startles you, causing you to drop the jar in your hands onto the floor. then, yunho bursts through the door. 

“are you okay?” he asks worriedly, scanning around the room until his vision lands upon you, in just your underwear sitting on the foot of your bed. he darts his eyes downward, now landing on the jar of lotion, laughing as he puts it together that he was worried over just a jar of lotion.

he gets down on one knee before you, gently placing your leg atop his thigh. he picks up the jar to take a scoop out and spread it over your shin, massaging the shea butter into your freshly showered skin. 

you stammer, again trying to conform sounds into an understandable sentence, but nothing comes out. this time, yunho takes note of your speechlessness. 

“it’s okay, this is the least i can do for you.” 

he finishes moisturising your right leg, and switches its place with your left leg, similarly working the moisture in. as he reaches up toward your upper thigh, it’s ever so prevalent on your body the toll it's taking from him being so close to you, especially in your current state. 

“you know, i’ve been meaning to apologise to you for so long now…” he sighs, now. he’s massaging both of your thighs as he speaks to you. 

“for what?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“shhh, it’s okay. just let me talk to you.” and you don’t need to be told again, so you let him speak his mind.

“i’m sorry for not reaching out to you all these years. i’m sorry for letting our friendship go when i could have saved it. and i’m most sorry for not making you my first girlfriend.” his words are filled with genuine angst, but his eyes can’t help but swirl with something you can’t quite decipher. 

“it’s okay, yunho, but i’m not quite sure what you mean.” this time when you speak to him, he looks up to meet you in the eyes. and now, you can clearly see how he is feeling:

he’s yearning.

you know yunho inside and out, you have been able to read him like a book for your entire life. you know what he looks like when he’s feeling upset, angry, even blissful. however, you have never seen him with such a deep feeling of want and desire, let alone for someone, especially that someone being you. 

“all these years, all those years, i dreamed about you being by my side.” he gets up from his knees, hovering over you before leaning back down to trap you between his arms. 

he crawls the both of you further back onto the bed as he continues to express his feelings.

“earlier, when you asked me about my life?” you nod, watching as his breath grows heavier, his silver cross dangling above your face. “with you by my side, i’ll be complete, my ultimate dream will come true.” 

you shudder as his sudden and heavy confession settles into your mind. all these years, he’s felt the same as you, if not even stronger. all the past few years of yunho’s absence is starting to dissolve, and you’re brought back to your younger self who was in love with him, she still lives inside you as the feelings are lit aflame. 

“please, y/n, tell me you love me too.” he pleads, his face now mere inches above yours, you see his eyebrows lightly furrowed and the look of pure desperation on his face. 

“i’ve loved you since then, and i’ll love you forever.”

that was all yunho needed to hear before finally closing the gap between your lips and his. all the daydreaming about how his lips would feel are put to shame as you now have the real thing. he takes one of his hands to hold your cheek, his large hand covering the entire length of your face. his kiss is littered with little nips and tongues rushing to explore each other. you feel his weight shift as he places a knee between your legs, pressing against the seat of your underwear. you gasp slightly as he applies even more pressure, grinding small movements making you squirm. he leans back from the kiss to swipe your bruised lips with his thumb, pushing it past your slightly parted lips. you circle around his thumb as he keeps pushing it in further as you suck and lick at it playfully. he watches your movements with a soft groan, holding himself back for the moment being. 

but, feeling as inpatient as you were, you push his face back into yours as you swat his hand away, going back to an even more heated makeout session. you arch your back further into his touch, allowing him to reach behind you to unclip your bra. the once very calculated yunho turns inpatient himself, moving his knee back and flipping your positions. you find yourself sat on top of his lap, quickly feeling his hardon pressed perfectly between your folds. you lean forward to kiss him again, this time reaching your hands down his shirt to lift it off him, only taking a brief second to go back to tasting his lips. your nails run up and down his torso, lightly scratching his chest and abs as you wander further down to the button of his jeans. as you unzip his pants, his hands go under your panties to feel your hips, showing his strength as it only takes him a light tug to rip your underwear in half, he throws them off to the side to leave you completely bare on top of him. 

he finally gets hold of his own waistband, he helps you pull his jeans and boxers down in one go as he dick springs up to slap against his stomach. he’s sat up against the headboard, hands lazily rubbing your hips and pulling them forward. his lips are swollen and his breath pushed through his parted lips. his eyes are heavy with desire, hair messily tousled across his forehead. you take in this sight before you, one you could have only imagined in your wildest dreams. but now, those dreams are becoming a reality. 

you sit up higher on your knees, grabbing yunho’s throbbing red-hot erection and hovering over it. you slowly start to sink down, body filled with excitement and a bit of nervousness. yunho lets you go at your own pace, allowing you to go at your own pace and not rush you. eventually, you bottom out, leaning forward to the crook of his neck to breathe properly. he rubs your back and soothes your breathing.

“you’re doing so–hah–so good.” he tells you, but you can feel him starting to get antsy, and so are you. 

you sit back up, placing your hands on his shoulders as you start to slowly bounce up and down on his cock, feeling his long shaft and veins drag up and down your walls. you feel the tip gently graze and poke every time you sink down further and further. getting used to the initial stretch, you start to move a little quicker, and are motivated by the grunts coming from yunho underneath you. 

“fuck, y/n, just like that.” he groans out, his hands on your hips now bouncing you faster and faster and faster. 

“yu, you’re so big.” you cry out, head falling in his chest. he takes control again and starts thrusting up into you. all you can hear is the slapping of your skin together and the squelch coming from your arousal mixing. you start to clench as you feel his movements picking up speed and force. 

“you feel so good, baby, better than i ever imagined.” you moan as he punctuates the remark with an especially hard thrust up, making you choke out on your words. 

you sit back up again and start to match his motions, adding in small grinds in desperation to feel some friction on your clit. seeing your efforts, yunho moves one of his hands to it, circling in firm shapes to expedite your pleasure. he leans up to kiss love bites all over your neck, shoulders, and chest. marking you blue and purple for people to see for days. 

“you’re mine, y/n. you-you know that right? i can’t let you go again.” yunho almost whimpers out. you can hear the yearning in his voice, and it makes you even wetter to see the man himself so desperate for you.

all you can manage to do is nod your head rapidly as you feel your own release nearing. the way he’s moving so constantly with both his hands and his dick, along with his newly confessed feelings still weighing on your mind, makes your head spin and clit throb. 

“need to feel you cum around me, can you do that for me? i’ve waited so long, wanna feel that pretty pussy when she cums baby.” your eyes hit the back of your skull when the right combination of his motion, friction, and words hit you. you clench around him and feel a gush of your arousal come out. you moan out as your release hits you, riding out your orgasm as yunho uses all his strength to hold back.

though it hasn’t been long for either of you, all the years of longing and hidden feelings make the experience ten times more intense. 

when you’ve come down, and just as he’s close, yunho pulls you off of him, even though your mind is clouded with lust, he still has some sense of reality as he tries to finish himself off. you replace his hands with your own, swatting them away as you stroke his length. you spit on the head, watching it mix with his precum and ooze out down his shaft. you bury your head down to give kitten licks at the slit, making him hiss as he tangles his hands in your hair. you let him control your head movements as you feel him push down down down. 

his tip pokes at the back of your throat as you’re determined to take all of him. he doesn’t really give you much choice in the matter as he’s so caught up in the warmth of your mouth to think about anything else. you run your hands back up his abs and caress his stomach as you feel his ragged breathing.

“fuckfuckfuck,” was all the warning yunho gave you before finally releasing in your mouth. you feel his seed sticky down your throat, and as you start to pull him out he sputters more in your mouth. you stick your tongue out and slap the tip against it, he has a few more pumps spread across your lips as he finally calms down. you lick your lips clean and swallow the rest in your mouth, albeit a little sore. 

yunho is quick to recover, laying you back down on the bed, and crawling down between your legs. 

“let me return the favour, pretty.” he dives between your legs with full force. he wastes no time on teasing as he indulges in the taste of you. he tongue moves from licking your clit to prodding at your clenching hole. his lips wrap around your throbbing bud in haste as he sucks and nibbles lightly. 

you look down just as he takes his hand to join his mouth. he expertly pushes two fingers in, immediately causing you to moan out as you feel him all over. he takes his free hand to push your hips down, locking you down on the bed. 

his lips continue to lick up everything you have to offer, and again it does not take you long to have your second orgasm of the night.

yunho climbs in bed and pulls you onto his chest, and again, no words are spoken, none need to be. everything which has been bubbling up for your entire lives has been dealt with now. you both were once kids with no thoughts for the future, but for the first time since you have met, you anticipate tomorrow.

[wetpussyju1ce]

retired!John Price and the ghost girl living in his sea side cottage. 

he didn't even know the house was haunted when he bought the place. it's not like the owner of the cottage would've told him. and in this time and age, not a lot of people really believed in ghosts, heck he didn't believe in them either. 

well, maybe that's a bit of a lie. he doesn't believe in actual ghosts appearing and knocking shit over just to mess with the living. but he's been long enough in the military to know that every man and woman have their own ghosts they carry around. heck, even some bases are worse than others, sometimes when the wind blows hard and runs in the corridors, it sounds like souls out of hell, coming back to haunt the ones still alive, telling them their time was counted for. 

But this type of ghost, the type that's absolutely shit at being a ghost, John thought it was a house squatter, a homeless person using the cottage because it was empty for a very long time, that's what the owner told him. When he first saw her, she dashed past the door, fast enough that he couldn't exactly see who it was but slow enough that he could tell it was a person. 

then she'd follow him around, she wouldn't make any noise of course, but he could sense her presence and see her in the corner of his eye. He thought maybe it was his old age getting to him. because no matter how hard he looked there was no evidence of human presence, other than himself, of course. he catches himself staring long and hard at his cigar, getting suspicious of his own tobacco, if he'd somehow mixed some cannabis in it and forgot. But no, she was there, and very real. 

The longer he stayed in the house, cleaning, dusting, moving things and unpacking, the more he could see of her, just glimpses here and there. And for a reason completely unknown to him, he wasn't scared. why would he? if she wanted to hurt him she would've done it by now? plus, she doesn't look as scary as someone would think. John knows that she's barefoot, wears a light pink dress and her flesh looks of normal, if faint, human colour. It doesn't look rotted or grey. 

John hasn't told anyone about his little ghost roommate, and probably won't because they'll definitely drag him to a retirement home if he does. So he keeps his mouth shut and tries to catch this little ghost, or at least get a look at her face, speak to her, ask her what is she doing in his house. 

That day came sooner than he thought, where she was creeping behind him, it was comical how John immediately knew what she was doing, saw her in the reflection of his glass of water. then walked out of the kitchen, slowly at first, when he turned the corner he booked it for the other kitchen door, getting in and there he saw her, slowly creeping to the door he just exited out of. He wanted to laugh at how bad she was at being stealthy but held it in, then he creeped behind her, then pounced, wrapping his arms around her. 

She shouted and he gasped, hearing her voice for the first time, she was cold, and soft. when it finally registered in her head that the human man was touching her, she froze, and when she did, John couldn't feel anything anymore. She was still there, looking down at his arms that were now floating inside her. John moved his hands around, eyes wide and she shuddered, stepping away with her shoulders hunched. 

John felt bad for scaring her like that so he cleared his throat, “Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,”

She didn't move for a minute, her back to him, and then slowly looked over her shoulder, blinking her wet eyes at him. She was scared and his heart twisted in his chest at the youth etched in her skin, at her hunched shoulders and trembling lower lip. 

“I'm sorry, darling, I didn't mean to scare you,” John quickly apologised again, this time trying to whisper, his hands in the air, trying his best not to scare her away. 

Her body slowly turned around, levitating and floating, then he could finally see all of her, including the marks wrapped around her neck in the shape of fingertips as she stared at him, shaking. John never thought he was capable of scaring a ghost, if anything he should be the one terrified out of his wits. This wasn't normal.

“I'm John, John Price,” John introduced himself, “I bought the house a month ago, as a retirement present for myself…” Price explained as if she would care why he bought the house. 

“You can see me?” She asked, her voice just above a whisper and Price nodded, eyes wide. 

“And you can touch me?” She asked again, fingers grabbing hold of her dress, pulling at the fabric and toying with it.

John nodded again and she looked down, confusion written all across her face. 

“Are you a ghost too?” She asked, hopeful and Price’s small smile fell, did she just ask him if he was a flipping ghost? 

“Am I dead?” He repeated and she nodded once with a grimace.

“Well, I hope not,” He awkwardly laughed, running his fingers through his beard, thinking hard if he could've lost his life in the battlefield, a bullet to the head or something. 

“Are you sure?” She asked and he frowned, was he sure? 

“What's something ghosts can't do and living people can?” John asked and she tilted her head to the side, thinking. 

“Well, I can't leave the house…” She shrugged and he nodded, that's it, all he has to do is leave the house and he'll be sure he's actually not dead.

John walked to the door, turning the key and looked over his shoulder, “I'm doing it!” Then he put one foot outside, then another, and nothing happened, “See! I'm not a ghost,”

She frowned in confusion, “If you're not a ghost, then why can you see and touch me?”

John walked back in the house and locked the door behind him, “I don't know, you're the first ghost I've ever talked to, I'll tell you that,”

“Really?” 

“Yes,” John smiled a little, “Are there others in here or is it just you?”

“Just me,”

“Alright, will you give me a hard time?”

“No!”

“Good, then why don't you make yourself useful and help me pick a new wallpaper for the hallways,”

[meowstri]

you could wipe my mind, i'd still be stuck on you

tags: peter parker x fem!reader, tooth-rotting fluff, college/university au, lots of sarcasm, 1k words synopsis: while going out shopping to buy snacks for movie night, your bf, peter parker, tries to convince to you to let him get a new video game. chaos ensues. a/n: wow hey welcome to my first fic posted on here... sorry if this seems rushed haha. tysm @103rafes for helping me with the ending, ily man. reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated!! title is from stuck on you by grentperez

"alright, i think we've got everything!" your eyes scanned through the various assortment of junk food in the grocery cart. "movie night is gonna be awe-" You turned to face your bf only to find no one standing near you. "ugh... where is that idiot?"

walking around the store, you find your boyfriend of 1 year, peter parker, in the electronics section. of course he was. you thought, he probably even forgot what they were at the store for.

he was staring intently at the newest spider-man video game. Spider-Man 2, it had came out just last month and everyone was going crazy over it. he had a scrunched up look on his face, studying the cover of the game in the clear display case.

as you walked up to him, his senses picked up on your location and he turned his head around, quickly glancing at you before turning his head back towards the display case. "i still can't believe they make video games of me. they really captured my likeness" he let out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "i am so going to get this."

rolling your eyes, you sighed. "no we're not mister. c'mon its time to go home." you tugged on the sleeve of his sweatshirt, but Peter still didn't move an inch.

"please y/n... ned has the game! so does everyone we know!"

"why don't you just go over to ned's house and play it?" you suggested, rolling your eyes once again. "yeah, keep rolling your eyes. it'll be stuck like that soon enough." he huffed with a pout. "if you let me get it i'll let you pick the movie tonight. i know you love those cheesy hallmark movies..." peter said in a sing-songy voice. he leaned in to give you a small peck on the cheek and looked at you with his chocolate puppy-dog eyes.

"your silly antics don't work on me." you can't help but let out a giggle as buried his face into your neck and kissing every expanse of skin on it. peter wrapped his arms around your waist hugging you close. "but no. out of the both of us, you're the worst at managing your spendings and we need the money."

he hummed. "but mr. stark gave me my paycheck on monday, its more than enough to buy the game and put away some of it in our savings..."

"you mean your allowance?"

"hey! i may not be an avenger, but i still work for one of the richest people in america" he laughed, messing up your hair. "so... can i still get it?"

you hesitated for a moment, doing some calculations in your head. the two of you lived together in a dingy apartment and did extra jobs on the side to keep the both of them afloat. you knew peter worked hard a lot, trying to keep his grades up while maintaining his life as the city's spider-man so maybe he did deserve something nice for himself.

the corners of your mouth lifted in a small smile. "well..."

—

“did you see that! i beat his ass so hard.” your bf laughed. you watched intently at the screen trying to decipher what was going on but all you could see were bright flashes of colour.

“you already beat ass in real life. don’t understand why you need to buy this game just to play a virtual version of yourself.” you said jokingly while eating from the bowls of chips and candy you bought earlier that day. you grimaced as you peter took a large handful of m&ms and popcorn, shoving them into his mouth.

“true, but this is more fun.” he said between mouthfuls. “plus i don’t get hurt.” he gave you a dorky little grin.

well there was no denying that, you thought as you smiled back. as much as peter tried to argue, you insisted on paying for the game as a gift. just seeing peter smile over some silly game made you fall in love with him all over again. it was surreal, dating the spider-man. the same one that appeared on the news 24/7. the same one that made you worry for days wondering if he might come back from saving crime.

but he wasn’t just spider-man. he was just plain old peter parker. the boy from queens that you met all those years ago. the boy who was practically an academic genius and the best boyfriend you could ever ask for.

interrupting you from your thoughts, peter wrapped his arm around your shoulder and held you tightly. he had already finished playing the game but he still grasped the controller in his hand.

“what are you thinking about?” he asked quietly, playing with the strands of hair falling on your shoulders. he smelled like fresh laundry and a hint of butter from the popcorn.

“what?”

peter chuckled. “you were staring at me with that look you get when you’re thinking really hard. like your nose scrunches up a bit and you have this wide smile on your face”

“oh… i wasn’t really thinking about anything.” you locked eyes with him, staring into his big, doe brown eyes. you shimmied closer to him and rested your head on shoulder. “just thinking about how great you are.”

“thanks for feeding my ego— ow!” you punched him on the arm but there was no anger to it. “im joking, im joking. you’re great too.” the smile lines on his face deepened.

peter leaned his head against yours. “thank you for getting me that game by the way. i love you.” he pressed his lips against your temple, making a line down towards your cheeks, then ending at your lips. they were soft and warm, and he tasted like slightly like chocolate.

“mm, love you too spidey-boy. now play your game, i didn’t spend 90 dollars on that for nothing.” you giggled lightly.

unable to pull away from your face, he grumbled. “okay, okay! way to ruin a moment with my lovely girlfriend…”

“does this spider-man have a girlfriend too?” you nodded towards the screen.

“you’re better than any video game girlfriend i could have as spider-man”. you couldn’t help but let out a string of laughs as he pulled you in again, planting kisses all over your face.

fin.

[predestinatos]

CHALLENGERS — CL16 & MV1 🏓

summary: the line between rivals and friends was blurred. and then you came. MINORS DNI!!!!

word count: 3.5k

tags: charles leclerc x fem!reader x max verstappen, implied cheating, flirting, them being horny boys, 3some vibes, heavily inspired by challengers.

warnings: smut (no sex but... everything else) dirty talking, cheating, cursing.

note: yes i've been obsessed with challengers and i thought the dynamics would look rlly fun on a fic!!! am 100% invested on making this a series! also i'm aware those are padel things in tbe picture but this is just for the cover aesthetics okay!

12:52AM

“You know I can beat him, right?” Charles’ voice sounded rough as he stood against the doorframe, confident smile spread across his lips, arms crossed against his chest, making his muscles stand out. You looked at him then, from your lying position across the hotel bed – one you shouldn’t be on – and shrugged. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

The defiance in your tone registered like a cold breeze across his skin, causing him to shiver slightly yet not break his demeanour as he moved towards you silently, lowering himself towards you on the bed now, face inches away from yours. “I didn’t know you still needed convincing.” Charles noticed how you licked your lips as you stared at his, how for a quick second you almost forgot what you were talking about as your breaths melted into each other. His throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed, both of you so silent it could’ve been a scene from a nature documentary: prey seducing predator, but which is which?

“You asked” you replied, refusing to break the distance first, wanting to prove that you were stronger than he thought, that he needed something from you which he couldn’t possibly get, not anymore at least. You looked at his eyes, its bright colour now so darkened by something close to thrill over what was going on in that moment, a thrill you wanted to suppress. “Just wanted to see how good of a liar you were” Charles bit his lip, smile now growing slightly. Maybe it wasn’t thrill. Maybe it was actual amusement.

“You’re unbearable” you said, now turning your face away from him, rolling your eyes at his sheer arrogance. “You want me” he got up from bed, taking off his t-shirt as he searched for his pyjamas. His back flexed with every movement, muscles stranding out in his glistening skin. He smiled knowingly, because although he could not see your face, he knew you were looking. He always knew.

“Brave of you to think so” you shot back, getting up as well, grabbing your bag from the small armchair placed in the corner of the room. Rushing towards the hotel door, his frame stood between you and it – the ability to breathe, the absence of guilt, the absolution of uncommitted sins. “See, you’re still a bad liar” his bare chest rose and fell in front of you and Charles wished he could say he wasn’t about to crumble before you but that wouldn’t be true either. His confidence was only partially real, for he did not have the strength to do more than this, to test you and push you only this far – part of him knew you couldn’t resist, but he was never entirely sure.

YEARS EARLIER

The country club was boring. You didn’t know why your family insisted on going apart from trying to prove how rich they were, something which got exhausting too quickly. Sitting at the table, you played with the olive in your martini as your dad talked about “business” and your mom laughed about something.

The sun warmed your skin as your bare legs welcomed the heat gladly, the only source of some amusement in that place. It was tiring. Your brain felt like it could explode from lack of stimulation. Minutes passed at the speed of years. You had to do something, quick, or else- “I’m going for a walk” you said suddenly, or a voice said, part of your brain who was even more tired than you thought. Your family stood, staring at you briefly before nodding and continuing their tasks, like robots who were well instructed to continue their mission but not used to abnormalities.

Max was sweating. We would feel disgusting, unclean, even, were it not for how focused he was on the game, on his friend – rival, for a few minutes – in front of him. The tennis ball travelled from his racket to Charles in something near to slow motion for him.

Charles was amused. He always was, for he loved playing almost more than winning. He loved getting under his friend’s skin, seeing how hard he tried to beat him while his careless attitude ate him with each hit he took. There was something god-like about his commitment, his seriousness, that Charles admired, if not even envied. He couldn’t care as much about things the way his friend did – he was passion, Max was reason. That’s the way they always worked, and you could see it in the way they played, hear it in the way they grunted as they hit the ball with their utmost force.

“Okay let’s take a break” Charles said, throwing his racket carelessly on the floor as he walked towards the end of the field, towards his water bottle. Max stood in place, looking at his friend, wondering if he looked as disheveled as him – dark hair glued to his skin, cheeks red and a constant frown on his face from the sun’s insistence on affecting them. “It’s 30-all! You can’t just ask for a break when it’s 30-all!” his complaints were dismissed with a shrug of shoulders. “I just did”

Max inhaled heavily, used to this behaviour yet not immune to how much it annoyed him, and on his exhale, he felt his friend’s hands on his shoulders, massaging them gently. “Relax, don’t be so tense all the time,” Charles whispered, slight irony laced in his tone as he buried his hands in his friend’s warm shoulders from the heat.

“Don't stop now, I was enjoying it” your voice broke through them unexpectedly, causing them to turn their eyes towards you simultaneously. Max stared at you, his eyes locked on your teasing ones. But it was Charles who spoke first, in an attempt to match your tone. “And who are you, exactly?” Though you answered his friend, your eyes remained on Max's green ones, on the shy smirk growing slowly across his lips. The hands previously on his shoulders fell across them, brushing his back and finally leaving him altogether, as if melting from the heat. He barely noticed. Maybe he didn’t notice it at all. “I'm Charles” he walked towards you confidently, leaning against the railing that separated the court from the bleachers, one eye closed in a permanent blink due to the sun. You got up, looking, for the first time, at the dark haired man closer to you. Moving slowly towards him as you climbed down the stairs, you felt his defiant gaze, so different from his friend’s yet equally as alluring to you. Now as close to him as you could, your hand on the railing, mere inches away from his arm, you spoke. “And your friend over there?” Charles looked back, as if trying to recall who you could be referring to, prolonging a moment unnecessarily, only to allow his arm to brush against your hand as he turned back towards you, head tilted. “Why do you want to know?” Max’s racket felt cold against his burning skin, the image of his friend's toned back and tanned neck directed towards you, with a short skirt and tight top, causing him to wonder if he was hallucinating, overheating, going crazy. “Charles, she wants us to play more.”

10:45PM

He liked watching you, how you moved so softly, hands caressing your legs as you applied mosturizer. It was almost religious, how your breath guided his unintentionally, how he forgot everything for a few seconds, maybe minutes, maybe hours.

He leaned against the bathroom sink as you placed your foot on top of the toilet seat to better access some parts of your skin you could not otherwise reach. You felt his gaze, still so similar to the one he first used when he first layed his eyes on you – the same intensity, mind over matter debate circulating through his mind as he analyzed every inch of your skin.

“I’m going to win tomorrow” Max said from behind you; a certainty in his voice that made you chuckle with something close to frustration. You muttered an ‘okay’ as you continued your movements, your bracelets clinking against each other. “I’m serious. You know I’m serious” he repeated, frustrated at your nonchalantness, at your dismissal of his convictions.

“Don’t be patronizing” you finally said, turning around as you spread the remains of the cream on your arms and hands. Though you were in underwear and he was clothed, he felt vulnerable in front of you. The ring adorning both of your fingers didn’t make your presence any easier to bear over the years, despite his attempts at pretending it did.

“What do you mean?” he asked, eyebrows now raised, turning his head to follow your frame which walked towards the hotel bed. “You know what I mean, Max” your voice was stern, your head always high despite you being shorter, as if he was the one who had to look up to you, though he hadn’t, not really.

“You weren’t like this with him” he looked down now, his profile outlined by the bathroom lights. You admired his attractiveness, his intentional care to be clean, precise, as close to perfect as he could. You admired how his expressions never oscilated between extremes, or at least how he managed to hide it so well if they did.

“You don’t need me to tell you these things the way he does” you sighed. You had had this conversation, or something close to it too many times to count. “You have the girl, you have the championship, what else do you want, Max? You want me to constantly tell you you’re a winner, you’re a big fucking boy who’s so so good?” you continued, more aggressively than you perhaps intended, though it did not matter, not really, at least.

He looked back at you now, though he dare not move. His throat bobbed up and down now, and you noticed how his knuckles whitened slightly as he held the sink tightly. “Maybe I do” it was almost a whisper, the way he said it, trying to hide from the attention he so craved, his body manifesting more than he wanted to show.

You looked further down his body, to where your words seemed to affect him most, though he remained looking at you. You admired his silent boldness in contrast to Charles’ loud one. "I chose you, Max" your voice sounded velvety to him, almost driving him insane as he felt his cock hardening. He felt ridiculous. Maybe he was; his obsession with your approval was also an obsession with beating Charles' appeal to you. He might have won many battles but Max had won the war.

YEARS EARLIER

Charles was better - better looking, better skilled, and effortlessly so. Max thought all of this as he stared at the back of his friend's slightly burned neck, standing behind him in front of a bedroom door.

"Ok so, let's not fuck this up" Charles said, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a match. "She clearly wants us"

"Us?" Charles turned around at the question, incredulity written across his face. "Yes, us. Now which one she wants more... We'll find out"

Before he could protest at his friend's unapologetic confidence, the door opened. You stood there, oversized t-shirt being worn as a nightgown, smiling at the two boys.

Both of them frozen, lusting over you so obviously it was almost insulting, were you not turned on by the way their gaze explored your body. Charles had a signature smirk that did not care to hide where his imagination was roaming as he stared at your bare legs; Max, on the other hand, was overcome by a darkness that almost intimidated you, studying every inch of your body hungrily.

"You're just going to stand there?" you asked, half laughing, waking the boys up from their trance. They both rushed inside excitedly, causing you to giggle subtly. It was flattering, how much they seemed to crave your sheer attention.

“So…” you asked, moving to sit on the carpeted floor, trying to make them comfortable – which didn’t need much effort, as they seemed to make themselves at home promptly, Charles’ unbuttoned shirt exposing his chest to you, and Max’s own t-shirt was so tight it left little to the imagination.

“You liked to see us play” Max started, a newly found confidence reaching him, a smile matching it perfectly. Maybe you were the one to give it to him, your eyes landing on him as if daring him to speak, him specifically. Charles’ opened up a bottle of a cheap drink he found at the liquor store they had ran to just hours before, as they realized they might actually have a chance with you.

“I did” you answered with a nod, now looking at Charles, who offered you a glass, your fingers brushing his purposefully.

“So much that you wanted more” Max continued, so factual it could pass as arrogance – though it resulted in a blush from you. You admired his sudden calculated boldness, the way he brought the cup to his lips after saying those words, as if he had commented on the state of the weather.

“And you gave me more” you replied, trying to match his – maybe their – tone.

“Oh, we haven’t given you nearly enough” Charles now stepped in. He couldn’t help himself, not with you in front of him, not with the small room closing in on him as he felt your need grow along with his, along with Max’s, along with the cups and the drink and the sheets and the carpeted floor.

“You two do this a lot?” you asked, daringly, though the question had crossed your mind throughout the day. Was this enticing to them? Sharing a woman, pleasuring her together, driving her mad with their games, their touch and words?

They let out a soft laugh together, almost synchronized. They were both beautiful, though in opposite ways – Max’s features were hard despite his soft, quiet demeanor, while Charles’s were softer, more carefully sculpted despite his own careless behavior.

“What, go after the same girl?” Charles asked, looking at Max, who looked at him as well. They found it amusing and rather ironic, really. Everything was a competition to them, even if nothing got in the way of their friendship. What made you especially exciting was how they both wanted you, and how both of them were aware of that fact. They both know the game was on the minute you showed up, like a match they fought in the court.

Upon your nod, Max decided to speak up. He had to; it was somehow agreed and decided who would say what, an unspoken rule he seemed to have made with Charles but couldn’t quite remember. “No, not at all” he laughed, cup now empty as Charles grabbed the bottle and filled it some more.

“What he means is… You’re just that attractive” the brown-haired man spoke. Was he flirting with you, or were they both doing so, even if it came only from his voice? You couldn’t help but feel your whole body responding to how they looked at you, how they seemed to crave you with indescribable need.

“What about you two?” you asked now, blaming the alcohol – though you had barely drunk anything. Their eyes went from you to each other again, awkward and rapidly, as they blushed slightly.

“No, I mean… no we haven’t” Max said, causing a soft chuckle to come out of Charles, his friend’s shyness over the topic making amusing him. It’s not like they haven’t thought about it – not at all – but they hadn’t told each other this. This concept lived in their heads, and none of them dared to bring it up, though they had seen each other naked and crossed lines most so-called friends probably wouldn’t. But neither of them had the conversation about what it meant, or what it could mean, because they didn’t feel the need to. Not until now.

You shrugged it off, finishing your drink in a single gulp. Looking at those two men, you realized you couldn’t quite decide what to do next – you wanted to do so many things that felt too forbidden to speak.

You looked up at Max, his eyes so needy it made your blood pulsate in your veins, the certainty that he would do anything for your touch right in that moment causing you to shiver. Slowly, you moved towards him, his face so close to yours that he dared not move, not until your hands reached his neck and pulled him towards you, kissing him.

That seemed to shift something in him, his own arms holding you as if scared you’d leave, as if wanting to consume you all, taste all of you. His hand instinctively grabbed your waist, though you knelt on the ground and couldn’t – wouldn’t – go anywhere.

“Oh, fuck” Charles said, looking at the both of you. The sight should make him jealous, but it did quite the opposite. He felt aroused, more than he wanted to admit, watching Max controlling your body and movements, eyebrows furrowed from pleasure, as your own lips moved messily and erratic against his, not caring about how it looked. You were putting on a show for him as you savored all of Max – Max was simply savoring all of you, for he had forgotten his friend was even there.

You pulled away, however, now deciding you had to try the other man, who seemed to be in a state of pure bliss over you, your attitude, your movements. You barely moved towards him – you didn’t need to – as he rushed towards you his hand resting on your thigh and grabbing it tightly. He was more aggressive, more assertive and confident in his kiss. He didn’t let go of himself the way Max did, but then again he barely held himself back at all when it came to you.

Max was staring. He knew he was staring but he couldn’t look away. The sight was erotic, something out of his deepest, darkest fantasies – your hair being slightly pulled by Charles’ strong grip, your own hands on his cheeks as his tongue travelled across your mouth. Suddenly, his kissing went down to your neck, and you held him there as you looked directly at Max.

Just your look could have driven him insane, right there and then, but he wouldn’t let it happen. He was hungry for more of you, more of whatever was going on, wanted it to last as long as it possibly could. “Come here” you called for him, who obliged immediately.

At first, he mimicked Charles, but soon his mouth was on yours again and you felt both boys’ mouths on your body, the amount of sensations fogging your mind as you let them both consume you. You pulled Charles mouth to yours, joining the kiss you were sharing with Max. The three of you kissed – messily, sloppily, completely letting the primal, animalistic part of you loose.

You wanted to touch yourself. Wanted them to touch you, feel how wet you were, savoring all of you. You wanted them to touch each other for you – for your gaze, for your entertainment and fulfillment, the way they were doing so now, as you pulled away and watched their own mouths against each other.

Max was hard. He couldn’t think anymore, dizzy from the caresses he was feeling on his body, from the insanity of the moment, from everything and nothing. Charles was drunk – drunk on the intense rush flowing through him, from how hard he knew he was, from how fucking spectacular everything seemed in that moment.

You were in complete bliss. The two men before you were in absolute awe of you, yearning for you with fervent need, letting themselves go to the point where they even yearned for each other. It was time to stop it.

“Okay” you said, snapping both of them back to reality instantly. Both Max and Charles were shocked at how they felt nothing close to shame over the moment. In fact, they felt exhilarated, ready to keep going, to prolong the moment with each other, with you, forever. “It’s time to go” you continued, watching the glow disappear from their faces as they breathed hard, chests falling and rising rapidly. “What?” they asked in unison, something close to innocence returning to their faces.

“We’ll do this again, right?” Charles asked, getting up after you did, with Max following. He was aware that he was hard, his cock rubbing against the fabric of his boxers and shorts uncomfortably. And he was also aware that you were turned on, though he could only imagine how soaked you actually were – a picture that didn’t help his situation.

“Sure” you answered, seeing their gleeful faces one last time before adding, as you walked them to the door “one of you will. The one who wins tomorrow”, closing it on them before you could see the smile turn into a frown.

[cats-spilled-wine]

"But now in the western battle Fingon and Turgon were assailed by a tide of foes thrice greater than all the force that was left to them. Gothmog, Lord of Balrogs, high-captain of Angband, was come; and he drove a dark wedge between the Elvenhosts, surrounding King Fingon, and thrusting Turgon and Húrin aside towards the Fen of Serech. Then he turned upon Fingon. That was a grim meeting."

~ Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad, Ch. 20, The Silmarillion ~

WHY my drawings on tumblr are posted in such poor resolution is still beyond me... either way, here's Fingon the Valiant, High King of the Noldor. Precisely the moment he saw Gothmog coming. I tried to make him look both scared and determined, and I think I did a pretty good job with that; feel free to zoom in on the face. The hand could've been better, but overall... I FINALLY am almost completely satisfied with something I drew! Success!

Also, I forgot to add a circlet, but I think it looks better this way. And I didn't forget to add a helm; I just didn't. In fact, this was mostly done so that I could get rid of my irrational phobia of drawing - painting - faces and skin in general. At the moment, I think I came out victorious, but... we'll see.

Meanwhile, below is the sketch. I fixed and altered it so many times; mostly just minor details. As you can see, it's underwhelming. It doesn't even look good. In fact, I have no idea why I'm even sharing it in the first place... maybe as proof that "trust the process" is a real thing? Also, all of this was done entirely from head; no reference photos, no net inspiration, no colour palette inspiration, no searching of poses on pinterest.

I forgot where I was going with this.

So, um... enjoy, I guess.

[pitchsidestories]

under the mistletoe II Ellie Roebuck x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 2032

summary: With a little help of Ellie's and Reader's Barcelona teammates a near kiss on Ellie's return to the pitch turns into a real kiss at the team's Christmas party.

author's note: Dear readers, we hope you had a wonderful Christmas, whether you celebrated it or not. Enjoy reading ! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

19 months had passed since Ellie had suffered a stroke, there were days the English goalkeeper believed she wasn’t able to make her return in goal, but her will was stronger and tonight marked her emotional return.

Ever since the blonde joined Barcelona in the summer, you witnessed her achievements as well as her struggle first hand. Both of you were in recovery together for different reasons, yet it made you bond over the similar situation.

As the season changed from summer to autumn, you went from being regular teammates to friends. Now that winter had arrived in Spain, you wondered whether the two of you could be more for each other.

The football game against Real Betis turned out to be a solid win for Barca with Esme, Caroline and Ona scoring.

Much to your own dissatisfaction, Pere substituted you at the end of the game. He told you he didn’t want to risk anything after your recent comeback but was happy with your performance. 

The words of your coach calmed you down a bit while you sat down to watch the rest of the game including the only goal from a Sevillian player. The team celebrated it like their own little win, immediately your eyes went to look for Ellie’s reaction who was clearly frustrated by it.

Nonetheless, it was a win that meant so much more because the goalkeeper had returned to the beautiful game she loved so much.

After the game officially ended you immediately ran on the pitch to jump into Ellie’s open arms. “Congratulations, babe. We're all so proud of you,’ you whispered in her ear, ignoring the fact that your lips were almost touching her in a perfect kiss.

The English woman beamed at you: “Thanks.”  Her face literally lit up and competed with the beauty which were the glowing and colourful windows inside the Sagrada Família. For a moment both of you forgot you were still surrounded by people until Kika reminded you.

“Move over, we want to hug Ellie too!”, the Portuguese forward chuckled amused.

Slightly embarrassed, you release yourself from her embrace, feeling your cheeks turn fiery red at her comment.

Many team-mates followed the striker and hugged the goalkeeper, who responded with a warm smile and said thank you, girls.

” You’re welcome, we've been waiting for this moment, and it hasn't disappointed us”’ replied Kika in a friendly tone

Curious, Keira asked her friend, whom she had known for so long at this point: “How does it feel to be back?”

“Unbelievable. I'm glad I can share this with you in the team too”, Ellie replied gratefully, hugging her sideways, knowing that the older midfielder wasn't so keen on physical affection.

Nevertheless, Keira was incredibly touched by the significance of the moment they were able to experience together: “You deserve to be here on the pitch again after all you’ve been through.”

“Stop it, Keira, or I'll cry”, the younger English woman warned the older one, tears of joy already forming in her blue eyes.

“Oh, sorry, don’t cry, please.”, the midfielder begged.

To save this situation, you suggested: “What about a group hug and no more tears for tonight?”

“Promise.”, Ellie said as the team hugged each other tightly to celebrate her return once more.

“Good.”, you nodded satisfied.

The wholesome moment was only interrupted by Mapis voice: “Girls? Don’t forget about the Christmas team dinner!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be there.”, you promised as you all finally started to let go of Ellie again.

The blonde goalkeeper smiled: “Yes, I will convince Keira to join us.”

Her lionesses teammate cringed at that: “I hate Christmas parties.”

“But you love me, so…”, Ellie blinked at her innocently.

Keira knew she couldn’t disagree so she just groaned: “Ugh.”

“Count us all in.”, you laughed before you all started heading towards the dressing room to change. One by one, they all started to leave the stadium until only Mapi and Ingrid were left.

“Ingrid, you noticed that earlier too, right?”, Mapi asked impatiently, once the door fell shut behind Irene.

The Norwegian nodded: “Of course, amor.”

A smile spread on the Spanish defenders face: “I have a plan.”

“You do?”

“Oh yes.”

“Tell me.”

Mapi just shook her head with a conspiratorial smile: “You will see. Let’s go buy some mistletoes for the Christmas dinner.”

“Mistletoes? I think I know what you have planned now.”

“It’s the season of love after all.”, Mapi winked.

“And we saw that they almost kissed on the pitch.”, Ingrid added.

“Exactly. Now let’s go, we have to prepare everything.”

When you arrived at Mapis and Ingrids apartment, the Christmas party had already started. Most of your teammates were already there, standing in the middle of the room with drinks in hand. It looked like Mapi and Ingrid had to move some of their furniture to accommodate the number of football players they hosted.

You immediately spotted Ellie standing to the side, talking to Kika.

“Hi.”, you greeted your teammates.

The goalkeeper quickly pulled you into a hug: “Hey. You look pretty.”

“Thank you. I love your outfit.”, you replied politely but truthfully.

“Thank you.”, Ellie smiled back. “Who hung up all those mistletoes?”

You followed Ellie's gaze to the ceiling, where sprigs of mistletoe hung at regular intervals.

“Mapi? Ingrid?”, you suggested with a shrug but you also couldn’t hide how impressed you were with their decorations. They really went all out for the Christmas dinner.

As if she had been waiting for it, Mapi appeared on your side with a smirk: “Oh, don’t you two know what tradition wants from you?”

“We do but we’re not standing under one.“, Ellie replied laughing.

You nodded in agreement: “Exactly.“

Mapi raised one eyebrow at both of you: “At least you know, in case you find yourselves under one.“

Keira stood with her back to the wall, studying the parasitic plants above her with wide eyes: “I’ll make sure I won’t move for the entire evening to avoid standing underneath them then!”

“And how are you going to get your food?”, Ellie asked, her warm laughter filling the air.

The English midfielder replied with an embarrassed smile: “Well.”

“I can bring you some.”, the goalkeeper offered then gave her an encouraging pat on the shoulder.

Thank you,’ Keira muttered, incredibly grateful for their friendship, which has lasted since their time together at Manchester City. 

Still smiling the blonde answered: “You’re welcome.”

“When’s the dinner ready? I’m getting hungry?”, Kika changed the topic swiftly.

“It should be done by now.”, Mapi and her girlfriend quickly left their seats and went into the kitchen to fetch the festive meal that everyone was waiting for. Inside there was a buffet there every guest could get what the heart desired.

Just outside the door, the Spaniard stopped and looked up at the ceiling with a dreamy expression on her face. With a mischievous grin on her lips the defender added: “Oh, look, Ingrid. A mistletoe right above us.”

Ingrid’s green eyes lit up with amusement: “You’re such a dork, Maria.”, the Norwegian mumbled into the older woman’s ear before kissing her despite the teasing comment.

 “You love it.”, Mapi observed confidently.

Her younger girlfriend admitted: “Maybe a little bit.”

“Want to get some food too?”, Ellie turned her face towards you beaming.

You nervously push a loose strand of hair behind your ear before answering: “I do, but the mistletoe.”

“We can avoid them.”, the blonde offered conspiratorially with a wink.

“How boring!”, Mapi threw in.

 Ignoring her teammate's words, Ellie stood up and took your hand as you followed her: “Come on.”

“You can go first and then I’ll follow you. Oh, uhm sorry.”, you apologized with heated cheeks while you stumbled into the goalkeeper who caught you without a problem, but now the mistletoe was hanging right above you, waiting for the next act to unfold.

You both didn't see that Keira was the one who was inconspicuously pushing you. Later in the evening the midfielder would explain her reasoning behind it to bring you figural speaking closer together.

In the present moment Keira waved it off nonchalantly: “Don’t worry about it.”

“‘Well, you know the tradition, I guess we...”, began Ellie, her cheeks colouring slightly pink as she felt all her teammates’ eyes on the two of you.

A gentle reminder came from your lips: “I mean no one’s forcing us to.”

“I’m aware of that, but what if I want to do it.” Much to your own surprise, she made this quiet confession, which rekindled the sparks between them.

“Maybe, I want it too.”, you agreed flustered.

A shy smile spread on Ellies face: “Close your eyes.”

Without hesitation you did as you were told, waiting patiently for what would happen next. You almost flinched when Ellies lips lowered down on yours with the softest touch. You didn’t dare open your eyes, in case she might stop.

Only when Ellie finally pulled back after what felt like minutes, you finally blinked and found yourself too close to her face. She studied you in anticipation but you had no words except for: “Oh wow.”

“That was…”, Ellie started, clearly unsure how to put her own feelings into words.

“Absolutely delicious. Can I have another taste?”, you asked with an innocent smile.

The goalkeeper nodded happily: “Yes, maybe in the kitchen without all those eyes staring at us?”

You couldn't help but notice the slight blush on her cheeks.

“Okay.”, you agreed and followed her into the kitchen, ignoring all the other mistletoes on your way.

“Ellie, don’t forget my plate!”, Keira called after the two of you.

The goalkeeper shrugged and continued her way: “Sorry, I have to go.”

Keira pouted from the other side of the room: “Rude.”

“Young love, what are you going to do about it, right?”, Mapi grinned as she joined the midfielder leaning against the wall.

Ingrid appeared on Keiras other side, handing her a drink: “Thanks for your help, Keira. They really needed that push in the right direction.”

“You’re welcome.”

Kika held a plate out to her: “Here, Keira.You can have a bit of my food so you don’t have to starve because of those two lovebirds.”

“Thanks, Kika.”, Keira smiled, gratefully accepting the offered food.

“No worries.“

While your teammates stood outside gossiping, you and Ellie were alone in the kitchen. Every surface was covered with food or bottles but you didn’t mind. It was just you and her and no one else.

“So when did you first-…”, you started but stopped immediately when you realized that Ellie said the same thing at the same time.

“No, you go first.”, she insisted.

You cleared your throat before replying: “I’m not sure when it was. But I like your vibe and how positive you are even with everything going on.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“I just have so much… love and respect for you.”

“And I loved that you didn’t pity me. You just welcomed me with open arms. And I like that you don’t hate it when I take photos of everything and that you’re able to just enjoy the moment as it is.”, Ellie answered, surprisingly passionately.

“You’re so sweet, Ellie.”

You watched her face suddenly light up with a smug smile: “And you know what they say about me. I’m a keeper.”

The joke came so unexpected that you started to giggle: “Then I’d like to keep you in my life.”

It was Mapi who softly knocked against the kitchen doorframe to receive both of your attention. “Hey, just letting you two amantes know that we’ll start playing games soon.”, she informed you with a wide grin on her lips.

Ellie quickly promised: “We’ll be there soon.”

“Perfect.”, the Spaniard nodded in satisfaction.

Innocently, you placed a finger under the taller woman’s chin so that she had to look into your eyes when you said: “You know, Ellie, I think there’s another mistletoe right above us.”

“Looks like I’ve to kiss you again.”, the goalkeeper replied happily.

Her lips felt incredibly soft against yours as they met in a tender kiss.  Warming both of your hearts on a cold December evening.  

Christmas/Winter Oneshots

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