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shotmrmiller · 2 months

Text

pornstar au

f!reader x ghost x price :)

2.7k words

tw: teacher-student scenario again, just for the sake of the porn. also, DP. first time writing it, so be NICE!

big thanks to @waves-against-a-cliff for reading what i won't

You sat on Professor Riley's lap after class, his rigid length smearing precum in between your soft, bare thighs as he fucked them. His large hands curled around your waist, long fingers creating tiny dents where he dug them into the supple flesh.

His breath warmed the delicate skin of your throat, as pants escaped his lips. You deliberately pressed your legs closer together— hoping that it provided enough amount of friction for him to finish.

You need this extra credit, after all.

Ghost inhaled sharply when you did, the grip he had on you almost painful.

"Fuckin' hell." His rich groan resonated in your chest. The gusset of your knickers was damp with arousal, both yours and his. The languid drag of his cock against your clothed pussy was so tantalizing, your core ached to be filled.

You were about to urge him to forget intercrural sex— to undress and fuck you already when a sharp knock on the door cuts through the fog in your head; a sudden rush of clarity pouring over you like a bucket of ice-cold water.

Shit.

Your back straightens at the interruption and quickly move to get off of Ghost's lap when he wraps an arm around your middle, keeping you firmly in place. A strangled noise claws up your throat. He cannot be serious.

"Come in," he calls out.

"No. No no no, you can't— you'll be fired, I'll be expelled, Professor Riley, please—" your voice warbles in your panic. His hold on you is as strong as steel, leaving no room for escape or resistance. You're helpless as the doors creep open and Professor Price steps in.

Of course, it's the most pretentious asshole teacher in existence.

"Hey, Riley, have you gotten the ema—" he trails off. His striking blue eyes flick down to your legs. Or more precisely, to what's still in between them fully erect.

"I was unaware you were busy with a...student." The sound of his footsteps draws closer. "Is this what you call detention?" Price leans on the desk with his hip, eyes never straying from you.

Ghost stifles a laugh. "Ask a better question, Price."

Heat licks up your jaw and cheeks when he resumes his thrusting as if there isn't another whole grown man in the room— one who can potentially ruin both his career and your collegiate one.

"Like what, Riley? Want me to ask if I can get a taste?" You look at Price and notice that his eyes are dark, limpid blue rings around the edges— knuckles stained white with how tightly he's clenching his hands. "You've never been a sharing type."

"Well, this sweet toy of mine loves being shared, doesn't she?" Swiftly, Ghost lifts you, his manhood now nestled against the curve of your back. His clever fingers move to your covered center, and draw featherlight circles on your hood, right above your clit. A whimper falls from your lips at the feeling.

"Answer him, pet. Tell Price ya don't mind gettin' this pretty pussy licked by him." He presses down on your bundle of nerves firmly with the pad of his thumb when you take a second too long to answer.

"I, I don't," you hiss when he rubs, "d-don't mind." Ghost gives your cunt a gentle tap.

"Don't mind what?" You swallow the lump lodged in your throat.

"I don't mind getting my pussy licked by Professor Price." His teeth tenderly graze the shell of your ear, followed by a small nip.

"Good girl," he mutters into your hair. Then directs his attention to Price, who's biting his bottom lip— the look he's giving you making your head swim. "She answered, so get down here or get out," he commands.

Ghost clasps his hands under your thighs and lifts until your feet rest flat above his knees. He hooks a finger into the sodden fabric of your knickers and drags it to the side, baring your glistening slit to the cold air of the room, erupting your heated skin in goosebumps. "On your knees, old man, unless they're too creaky to handle this."

Price's lip curls with unveiled amusement. "I was simply admirin' the view, Riley. Don't get your pants in a twist." He lowers himself to the floor smoothly until he's kneeled within inches of your exposed sex.

His prickly beard tickles the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and his mouth is warm and wet as his tongue slides between your folds.

Another former industry giant devouring your passion with the hunger of a starved man at a lavish feast. Each stroke of his tongue spreads the warmth in your stomach, a pressure slowly rising, building—

"Sit her on you," Price mouths against your cunt.

When you find yourself wedged between two burly men, there's not much you can do except surrender to their wishes. That means being lowered onto Ghost— instinctively closing your eyes as you savor the stretch and biting the inside of your gummy cheek at the mildly uncomfortable burn.

Gravity does most of the work as you sink into him in one gentle stroke.

And without reprieve, Price dives right back in. The dull ache from where Ghost's tip presses into the plug of your womb, to the pleasure coming from the attention given to your swollen bundle of nerves.

An intoxicating mix of bliss with pain furling at the edges.

It's so good, teetering on the edge of too much, but when Price sucks lightly on your clit, your body seizes. You scrabble to grab his dark brown hair, blunt nails biting into his scalp as your shatter around Ghost's cock and Price's mouth.

Ecstasy pulses through you like the steady beat of your heart, white-hot euphoria coursing through your veins. There's a ringing in your ears, shrill and deafening, and your breathing comes in ragged pants as you come down from your high.

Your face glistens with sweat as droplets trickle down your temples, hair plastered to your forehead.

Jesus.

Price lapped at the arousal that dripped down Ghost's length, softly groaning at the taste before giving you a wolfish grin behind his coarse facial hair that was damp with your desire.

"Welcome back, sweetheart," he murmurs.

You relax the tight hold you have on his hair as he tenderly kisses where you and Ghost are joined.

Ghost nudges your ear with his nose, and his deep voice rolls over you like a wave. "Greedy little cunt jus' about cut off my circulation, pet." He shifts under you, sliding even deeper than before, a hiss escaping from behind your teeth.

"I think Price is feelin' a little left out, don't you?" With a shaky nod and a quiet mhm, you feel his lips press against the side of your neck.

"Think you can take us both?" It feels more like a warning of what's to come than a genuine question. The idea of being stuffed by both of them sends a thrill up your back.

Price sits back on his haunches, palming himself from outside his trousers. "Think so, sweetheart?" He rises to his feet and promptly sweeps away everything from the wooden desk, scattering them across the floor. Taking a seat on the desk, he positions himself comfortably, his legs slightly bent and his feet firmly touching the ground. How unfair.

With a hand, Price beckons you to him.

Your legs tremble almost comically after having them in such an unnatural position for so long; tingling when you finally stretch them out in front of you. Ghost's hands at your waist help you stand, wincing when he pulls out of you unceremoniously.

Under his breath, he apologizes and gently nudges you towards Price by pressing his hand on your shoulder blades. "Go on, it's rude to keep him waiting." You're then guided forward as warm hands wrap around your biceps, leading you to stand in front of Price.

You drag your eyes from his down to his groin, where his erection is confined behind the strained zipper. Suddenly, Ghost's toned arms surround you, his hands eagerly reaching for the button on the front. "Lemme help ya out, love."

In seconds, Price's heavy manhood bobs as it springs out, ruddy tip hitting just below his navel. Simon firmly grabs your hand and swiftly turns it, exposing your palm. Without warning, he shamelessly spits on it before wrapping it around Price.

A guttural noise escapes him when you squeeze the thick of it tightly. He bucks his hips in a deliberate rhythm— taking hold of your wrist, ensuring your hand remains in position as he continues to thrust upwards until his cock is slick with his precum.

You can't help but rub your thighs together in hopes of getting some of the friction you're desperate for.

"Not gonna come already, are ya Price? We haven't even gotten started." Ghost ignores his scoff, rapping his knuckles on the desk. "Knickers off and climb up, pet."

You hastily tear off your smallclothes, shucking them to the side with your foot before hopping up on the desk, one leg at a time. Price steadies you with his hands on your waist. As you straddle him, your muscles ignite with a satisfying burn as they adjust the expanse of his thighs.

His voice is soft, gentle even, when he whispers into your ear. "Good?" You gasp sharply when Ghost spanks your arsecheeks before nodding at Price. "Jus' like we practiced, yeah?"

Yeah, just like you practiced. The plug you had to wear throughout the week whenever they both weren't tearing you in half should be more than enough prep. You hope.

Ghost taps the side of your thigh. "Cockwarm him while I get this perfect arse ready."

The stretch is intense as you lower yourself on Price— his cock thicker than Ghost's just not as long— it pushes the air out of your lungs. He bites his lip til it reddens, his eyes fixed onto where he disappears inside of you, fingers digging into the meat of your waist.

Your eyes flutter closed when he finally bottoms out, his girth splitting your swollen walls apart mercilessly.

God, he feels so good.

And then the sting of one thick, lubed finger pressing into your tight ring of muscle smothers some of that pleasure.

"Hey, hey. Look at me." Price tips your chin up with his hand, your eyes meeting his. "Good. Breathe for me, sweetheart." He leans forward to place open-mouthed prickly kisses on your neck. "Breathe, love. You've already taken us before. You did beautifully then, and you'll do beautifully now."

He distracts you from the discomfort by suckling on your skin, leaving red little love bites behind. Then, a second finger, so much bigger than your own. Price hisses sympathetically when you do— a tiny whimper coming from the back of your throat.

This time it's Ghost that breathes into your ear. "Doin' so good f'me."

Then he works a third finger in, and your back arches at the jolt of pain that licks up your spine.

Words of praise fall upon your ears, syrupy and saccharine, dulling the ache. He scissors and stretches gingerly, as he's always done. Ghost takes his time, curling his fingers inside— a slow and steady in and out that eventually has you clamping around Price.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth when you do. "So bloody tight."

"Alrigh' Price." Ghost takes you by the hips and cants them forward slightly, a cry falling from your lips at the change in angle. "Hold her open f'me."

He does just that; rough, worn hands spreading you open almost embarrassingly. There's a hot and heavy weight tapping your arse once, thrice— and then there's a blunt pressure pushing into your other much smaller hole. Your spine bows at the thick invasion, it burns, it throbs, but smart fingers find your neglected pearl and start to circle it.

The pain is merely physical, it can be overcome. Focus on the touch on your clit, focus on the hands that hold you, the heat that radiates from both of them. The harsh breathing of the man behind you as he fights to keep himself from fucking himself into you unfettered. Strained noises spilled from Price's parted lips as he felt your channel constrict, your sex beginning to get slick with your desire.

Ghost hilts, leaning forward until his barrel chest hits your back, a strangled groan coming from him. You felt unbearably full, about to tear at the bloody seams. Every single nerve from your navel down to the tips of your toes was on fire. You felt a throbbing sensation radiating from the back of your skull.

It was scalding hot, searing. The thin membrane that separated them felt stretched beyond its limit.

"Y'okay?" You can't even tell who asked you that past the rushing of blood that's in your ears. Your head feels too heavy on your shoulders, letting it lull forward until your forehead rests on Price's collarbone.

Ghost's chest vibrates as he speaks, the low rumble sinking into your skin, warming you from the inside. "Breathe for us, love. Deep in, slow out."

Right.

You remember what Price had said the very first time they fucked you. 'Breathing helps to process any pain and supports the nervous system.'

As you inhale deeply, your lungs expand to the point where you can feel a twinge of discomfort. But as you exhale, the tension in your body melts, your muscles gradually slackening.

Ghost undulates his hips once languidly, and while the ache flared back to life, below that was the pleasure you've become well acquainted with, desperately clawing its way to the surface.

A moan slips out of you unbidden.

"Perfect. So fuckin' perfect." Price's praise makes you dig your fingers into his broad shoulders, nails biting into his skin.

Then you're lifted by two sets of hands— one on your hips, the other on the underside of your thighs and brought back down. Fuck.

"Tha's it, love. Takin' us both so well," Ghost murmurs. When you begin to mewl, a clear sign of pleasure, Price plants his feet on the floor, and snaps his hips up. Black spots dot your vision, a euphoria shooting through your veins.

God, you hope your hips hold out.

They begin to move in tandem, one pushing in completely, while the other pulls out until just an inch stays inside.

It's sublime, obscene squelching coming from both your front and back. Once your body gives in to their assault, everything starts to blur at the edges, from your sight to your thoughts. You melt in their hands, softening under their touch as they take their pleasure from you.

They begin to fuck you in earnest, breath punched out of you with every thrust, and when Ghost takes control by grabbing a fistful of your hair, it sends waves of something through your stomach. The loud whine that comes from you is filthy.

"Always meltin' into a puddle over a firm hand, pet. Isn't tha' right?" He asks you as if you could even dream of answering. Your tongue is heavy in your dry mouth, and throat like sandpaper.

"Ready to make Price come? Choke his cock with tha' vice-like cunt, love. Wrench it outta him, take every drop of his cum, and then take mine."

Who are you to disobey such an edict?

The snarl Price lets out is animalistic when you squeeze him snugly, his thrusts turn jarring as he swells and stills— twitching inside of you, warmth pooling in your belly.

Only to realize that Ghost finished simultaneously.

There's a joke in there somewhere, about a couple finishing together, but you've been thoroughly fucked stupid.

Cut.

Simon takes you home— his home, and soaks you in a warm, bubble bath that smells like something he shouldn't have.

"I bough' it for you," he hums.

His callused palms knead into your sore calf muscles, hand making its way down to press into the arch of your foot.

"Don't go makin' those noises, love."

Eventually, you address the elephant in the room, and his answer makes your pulse race. "Gotta create a soft safe place f'you to land after somethin' tha' intense. Ya need to wind down, catch your breath."

He says it so casually as if it was common sense.

"Here. Drink your water." The bottle in your hands is room temperature, just how you like it.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john price #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #john price smut #john price x reader #simon ghost riley x you #captain john price x reader #pornstar!au

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ineffable-gallimaufry · 5 months

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if they made a homestuck movie:

VOICEOVER: it's coming...

*two drum beats*

JOHN EGBERT: *puts the disk for sburb into his computer* i'm in

VOICEOVER: this summer

*two drum beats*

ROSE LALONDE: *rolls eyes* john, stop goofing around

VOICEOVER: prepare to be stuck...

*two drum beats*

JADE HARLEY: *wakes up and looks around*

VOICEOVER: at home

*two drum beats*

DAVE STRIDER: *spins record* woah, this is off the wall, yo

*shitty orchestral cover of sburban jungle plays*

ROXY: but you don't understand! this game is dangerous!

*cut to dave leaving his clone behind at his quest bed*

DAVE: i can't do it... i just can't kill another me...

*bec noir appears next to alt dave*

ALT DAVE: he's right behind me isn't he

*fades to black as bec noir slashes a sword at alt dave's neck*

*text on screen reads "ASCEND"*

*cut to rose in her shed*

JOHN: rose, the meteor's gonna hit!!

ROSE: *grabs computer* *rolls eyes*

*text on screen reads "DESCEND"*

*cut to scenes of the war on the chess field*

*text on screen reads "RISE UP"*

*cut to john, running out of his kitchen*

JOHN: these imps are everywhere!!

*text on screen reads "ABSCOND"*

ROSE: it's all over...

*cut to the various sprites being sprited*

*cut to jake kissing dirk's head*

DIRK STRIDER: *standing nearby* *coughs* awkward...

*cut to terezi and john after game over*

TEREZI: john, 1t's 4ll up to you now...

JOHN: *gasps*

*cut to john and dave hugging*

NEPETA: *grins* :33< i ship ittttt

KARKAT: *facepalm*

*cut to terezi and vriska facing off*

TEREZI: vr1ska, you c4n't do th1s!

VRISKA: watch me!

*montage of vriska doing a bunch of random and cool stuff*

VRISKA: i can do anything!!!!!!!!

*cut to grimdark rose and dave*

ROSE: to win... we're gonna have to blow up the sun

DAVE: awww snap

*text on screen reads "NIC CAGE"*

JOHN: and i mean, of COURSE con air is the best movie ever!! what other movie would you even suggest

*text on screen reads "LIL NAS X"*

DAVE: man, this isn't even the best song in obama's whole rap career

*text on screen reads "AMANDLA STENBERG"*

ROSE: *rolls eyes* whatever, mom! i'm summoning cuthulu!

*text on screen reads "ZENDAYA"*

JADE: *petting bec* oh, who's the best dog! is it you?

*a bunch more celebrity names on screen*

*text on screen reads "BASED ON THE WEBCOMIC BY ANDREW HUSSIE"*

ANDREW HUSSIE: *sitting in chair* wait, am i still in this movie? do i still die?

VOICEOVER: yes

HUSSIE: oh poop

*text on screen reads "HOMESTUCK: THE MOVIE"*

JOHN: we're gonna save the world... or die trying

*quick montage of every single death scene*

DAVE: i think we're gonna die trying

JOHN: daaaaveeee

*text on screen reads "COMING THIS SUMMER"*

*cut to dave beatboxing*

KARKAT: CAN YOU SHUT UP?!

DAVE: are you gonna make me?

NEPETA: :33< ooooh—

DAVE and KARKAT in unison: DON'T SAY IT

NEPETA: :33< ship it

*they both sigh*

*cut to black*

#homestuck #sorry this is horrible i didn't mean to bring it into the world #john egbert #rose lalonde #dave strider #jade harley #vriska serket #terezi pyrope #roxy lalonde #jake english #dirk strider #karkat vantas #nepeta leijon #this would be hilarious though because i don't even know HOW they would fit homestuck into a two and a half hour long movie #it would be impossible

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steddielations · 14 days

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nsfw, actor eddie, hair and makeup artist steve, sub top

The downside of Eddie having a bunch of tattoos is that he has to sit in the makeup trailer longer than anyone else getting them covered, along with his character’s makeup.

The plus side is he gets more time with Steve.

They have this game. It started on Eddie’s first day. He was all wired up with nerves because it’s his first time in a lead role on a big production like this.

Every nightmare scenario of how he could screw up was running through his mind. He couldn’t sit still enough for Steve to give him the wavy hair and facial scars that his character has.

Eddie kept apologizing and Steve was great about it. He asked Eddie about the heart on his arm with “Wayne” across the ribbon and distracted Eddie from over-practicing his lines, busy telling Steve all about his uncle who raised him and where they’re from.

Eddie killed it on set that day, and pretty much every day since then. He loves acting, he loves fully immersing himself in the story he’s telling. This role is the biggest of his career so far, but it’s not even about that, he loves the character he’s playing, he meshes well with the director and has chemistry with his co-stars.

But Steve is his favorite part of this whole deal.

Eddie ran out of tattoos for their little game of telling Steve the story behind a different one every day. They never ran out of things to talk about though.

But Steve takes his job seriously and he’s good at it. He explained once why he likes doing this. It’s an art, getting the right look for the right character, or the right person, connecting with and taking care of whoever’s in his chair.

He explained it all while he was running his fingers through Eddie’s hair in those perfectly practiced strokes. Steve’s very good at his job, that’s why it feels so nice when he touches Eddie, even if it’s just work, because Steve cares about this. That’s why it’s easy for Eddie to be lulled into bliss when Steve’s fingers are so gentle on his scalp.

And, okay Eddie’s not made of stone, and he has eyes so he has a thing for Steve. A crush, but there’s a line there. This is work. They’re co-workers, despite how many pretty smiles and lingering looks are exchanged. Eddie won’t cross that line.

Until he does.

It’s an accident. He never would have done it on purpose.

Steve’s fingers are just so talented. Eddie’s eyes are closed, he was having another fit of nerves earlier so Steve took extra time with his hair. It put Eddie in a space so relaxed that he feels like he’s floating when Steve’s hand twists in his hair with the perfect amount of tension. It feels so intentional. The moan just slips out.

Eddie apologizes like crazy afterward, he feels terrible. Steve is a picture of professionalism, he’s charming and fun but he runs the makeup trailer like it's the navy and he takes his shit seriously and Eddie crossed a line.

But Steve just shushes him, guides him to sit back in the chair and says it’s alright.

Eddie blinks in disbelief but Steve just looks at him.

It’s a look.

A look that Eddie can’t stop thinking about for the rest of production.

It’s a look he sees again on his last day on set.

Eddie already shook everyone’s hands and said his goodbyes. He's just stopping by his trailer one last time to make sure the assistants got all his stuff cleared out.

When he opens the door, his stomach flips, finding Steve waiting inside for him.

“You wrapped filming today,” Steve says in place of a greeting. But his smile and the way his arm is languidly stretched over the back of the couch is inviting.

Something tells Eddie to lock the door before he goes over to sit next to Steve.

His gaze is even more intense up close. Eddie feels Steve’s eyes on him everywhere, like he’s just eating Eddie up.

“Yeah, I did,” Eddie says, a tad nervous.

He doesn't want to make a move he can’t take back in case he’s wrong about why Steve’s in his trailer looking at him like that. He doesn’t want to be one of those douchebag movie stars that assumes everyone wants him and he has a free pass to hit on the crew. He’s sure Steve’s had enough of that bullshit.

“We don’t work together anymore,” Steve simply states.

“I know, it sucks,” Eddie laughs a bit sad because he really is, “Sorry if it’s weird to say, but I’m gonna miss you.”

Steve’s eyes shift between Eddie’s and then down to his lips, making his heart stutter in his chest.

“No it’s a good thing,” Steve says and Eddie’s brows knit in confusion. “It means I can do this finally.”

Eddie thinks he’s watching his daydreams play out the way Steve starts leaning in.

It’s only real when Steve’s lips press softly to his.

Just once, so light, long enough for Eddie to catch on that it’s happening, then Steve pulls back before Eddie can reciprocate.

Steve chuckles faintly at the dramatic frown Eddie’s pulling.

Then Steve’s hand cups Eddie’s cheek, his thumb stroking Eddie’s face as he tells him, “We can stop there and keep it professional and say our goodbyes. Or I can climb on your lap and give you something to remember me by.”

Eddie gulps. Steve’s offer and his silky voice and his perfect touch that Eddie’s already so addicted to is such a heady mix, making it hard to form words. “Yes, climb me— I mean, option B.”

“Yeah, honey, you want that?” God, Eddie always blushed hot when Steve called him that casually in the makeup trailer, now he’s melting hearing Steve say it like this. “Well, go on and take your pants off for me.”

It happens in a syrupy warm blur. Eddie sheds his jeans and underwear like he’s told and he’s rewarded with a gorgeously naked Steve Harrington in his lap. He’s allowed to touch, only after Steve has threaded his fingers through Eddie’s hair more reverently than any time before, like something precious in his hands, and kisses Eddie deep and hard.

Then Eddie gets to nuzzle the chest hair that’s been driving him crazy peeking out of Steve’s shirt every time he leaned over. Eddie gets to touch Steve’s soft strong thighs, feeling the smatter of hair leading up to his ass that’s been driving Eddie even more insane trying not to stare at. Then he slips his fingers in and moans into Steve’s mouth when he feels the hard bulb of a plug nestled inside Steve.

Steve pulls back from the kiss, smiling and smearing his thumb over the spit on Eddie’s lips. “Yeah, I’m so ready for you, Eddie, baby, you have no idea.”

Eddie’s practically drooling watching Steve take out the plug and get a bottle of lube from between the cushions and a condom, oiling up his hand. When his fist wraps around Eddie’s cock, Eddie helplessly bucks into it, but Steve’s solid thighs pin him down. That makes his mind lust-foggy and his eyes flutter up at Steve, who bites his lip watching Eddie as he lines up to his hole.

“Mm... you know how bad I wanted you?” Steve sounds relieved as he sinks down on Eddie’s cock. “You know how bad I wanted to climb on your lap when you were sitting in my chair. You know how starry-eyed you get when you’re drifting? Just from me touching your hair, so fucking cute.”

Eddie’s just a mess of moans, Steve is so hot and tight around him. It’s too much with all the sweet praise to really comprehend that Steve knew all those times he was getting spacy.

“It’s so easy to put you down.” Steve’s breath comes harder, not letting Eddie move as he starts to roll his hips. “Such an actor, high strung all the time but that’s okay. It’s your passion. That’s sexy. Been dying to hold you down and ride you until you can’t think about anything but me, though.”

Eddie gasps out a groan when Steve tugs sharply on his hair, being right about everything that Eddie’s into so far. It’s no secret that Eddie’s intense, just a different kind of intensity in the bedroom than with his craft.

Steve seems to get it, seems to know that Eddie needs everything hard and relentless with the way he’s bouncing on Eddie’s dick. He can feel the strength in Steve’s hips, dying to feel them fucking into him too, mouth watering at the sight of his thick cock jumping with all the movement.

“You’d let me tie you down and use you, hm?” Steve asks, drawing Eddie by the hair into a biting kiss that just barely grazes the surface of what Eddie would let Steve do to him. “I know. I’d fuck you up so good if we had time, baby.”

“Steve, holy shit,” Eddie practically sobs, fingers digging into Steve’s ass.

“You close, honey?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

Steve suddenly cups his face, just a tad rough and Eddie thought— hoped for one hot moment— that Steve was going to slap him. Just the thought is enough to make him do what he's supposed to, “Can I?”

“Mh-hm just keep looking at me,” Steve strokes Eddie’s face as he circles his hips and takes Eddie deep. “Wanna see those pretty eyes when you come inside me.”

Eddie does as he’s told, his gaze falling half-shut as he lets go, spilling into the condom like he’s pumping Steve full.

It’s the hottest thing that’s ever happened to him, followed by the second hottest thing when Steve kisses his slack mouth as his warm heavy spurts of come land on Eddie’s belly.

While Eddie’s coming down, he lets Steve shift him onto the couch. He gets some tissues and then pulls Eddie to lie on his chest because of course he would, he’s Steve.

“Was that enough to remember me by when you get all big and famous?” Steve asks after a while, trailing his knuckles down Eddie’s bare arm.

Eddie looks up, seeing the first glimpse of hesitance in all of Steve’s practiced smoothness.

So Eddie leans in and assures him between pecks on his lips that slowly turn to smiles pressing together. “Nope, think we gotta do it again. And again. And again.”

#here's some sub top eddie from yours truly #also i've talked about actor eddie before but we need to talk about him more plssplss #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie smut #subeddieweek #sub eddie week #famous eddie munson #hairdresser steve harrington

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maevesheart · 4 months

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only angel (2)

FINNICK ODAIR X FEM!READER

note: wasn’t originally planning on making a part two to this but it just seemed so unfinished??!?! and i love ruthless reader idk she’s a queen

summary: through your alliance with katniss, you and finnick rekindle some buried feelings.

wc: 5.2k

tw: violence, death, brutal!!reader, blood, allusions to forced prostitution

only angel (1)

SEVEN YEARS EARLIER, THE 68TH HUNGER GAMES

Brutus and Enobaria sat in front of you and Mace, your district mate.

They reminded you of strategies that you had been taught your whole life, ensuring that as long as you two played into the Capitol’s hands, you’d get plenty of sponsors and come out alive.

Mace and you had never been close back home, but you saw him in the shopping centers, had some mutual friends. It was someone familiar, and even though your two mentors spent more time perfecting your wielding of knives and crocodile tears, you hoped Mace could somehow make it far in the games. Like you knew you would.

Enobaria and Brutus had introduced you to the various other Career Tributes, taking their time to butter up the other mentors, ensuring a ticket for your survival.

You were small compared to the other tributes, even the girl from Twelve was bigger than you.

But you trained, and you trained hard, showing off the various knife and sword tricks that had been engraved in your brain since you were a child.

Enobaria helped with your endurance, shocked by how fast you were. She had instructed you to not show that off to the other tributes, don’t give too much away.

After the private sessions with your mentors, you were stronger, faster, and more agile than Mace could even dream. You almost felt bad, the way Enobaria and Brutus were setting him up for death.

But, at the end of the day, only one can make it out alive.

Enobaria was strategic, determined for you to win. She instructed you to not show too many strengths in the private session with the Gamemakers, just enough to get a respectable score for someone from a Career District.

You followed her instructions to a tee, refusing to be one of the 23 fallen.

For the interviews, Ceasar laughed at your innocent comments and jokes, complimenting the head piece you wore, noting how it looked like a halo.

“Beautiful, like an Angel,” he smiled, the crowed cheering in agreement.

You giggled, smoothing down the uncomfortable golden dress they had sewn you into.

The crowd roared with your unwavering confidence, the arrogance paired with your baby-face and innocent smile was enough to send them into a fit of convivial.

It was just too easy.

The night before the games you had snuck out of the floor for Two, going up to the rooftop in hopes of having a moment to yourself.

You perched on the ledge, a small nightgown barely covering your shivering body.

You closed your eyes to relish in what could possibly be your last moments of peace, before being snapped from your trance by footsteps echoing.

You whipped around, teeth barring and senses on high alert. You were already acting like the wild animal Enobaria had been training you to be.

“Not in the arena just yet,” a smooth voice sounds out, a boy a few years older than you coming into view.

You recognized him as Finnick Odair. He had won a few years back, and was now returning as a mentor.

You ignored him, turning back to the outline of the Capitol.

He approached you slowly, leaning his body against the glass railing you were propped against.

You looked up to him, tired-eyes meeting his, somehow seemingly sparkling.

“Unfortunately,” you spoke, your mouth in a straight line. Enobaria had introduced you to him during the parade, but his tributes were not ally-material.

He laughed at your response. You stared at him, unamused.

“Feisty,” he smirked, watching you look away from him and back to the skyline.

“Not really in the mood to talk about my fate,” you said, his eyes still burning two holes into the side of your face.

His smile dropped slightly, having once been in your position himself.

He reminded himself you were only 15. A year older than he was when he won.

He had only won 3 years ago, and stood on this same rooftop. Looking out on the same city skyline.

Your peripheral vision caught him lean both his forearms onto the glass, shifting closer to you.

“Is it just as scary as it seems?” You ask. You were a child. A child that had been trained to hunt and kill. But deep down, you were just a scared kid. How would you kill all those people?

Finnick hums, acknowledging the same question that wracked his mind the nights before his games.

“It is,” he recognized your fear, but refused to give you false hope that it wouldn’t be as brutal as it truly is.

The words Enobaria had spoken to you earlier bounced around your brain, it’s just killing. Self-defense. All of it. Don’t be scared to kill someone who isn’t scared to kill you.

You let out a long breath, closing your eyes.

“I don’t want to die,”

It was quiet, but Finnick heard it, head perking up and turning to stare at you.

The role as a tribute was meant to bring great honor to someone from your district, but you were terrified. You were young, passionate. You had so much to give and so little time to give it all.

“Enobaria told me to hide my strengths, and I did. I’ll be able to kill them, once it comes down to it. But how will I live with myself?”

Finnick asked himself the same question everyday. How did he kill all those people? Sure, it was survival. Him or them. But how do you continue your life, pretending like you hadn’t murdered people on live national television?

“I—“ Finnick fell short, eyes still watching the side of your face.

“How do you cope with it all?” You finally turned to him, salty tears on your cheeks.

He knew you were preparing yourself for the inevitable. He had heard Enobaria boast about you, and had seen you in training. Other tributes would be frightened to get close to you.

He didn’t answer, swallowing thickly. You would soon understand, you would be in his position.

You choked out a sob, hands wrapping around your body.

He watched with wild eyes, before pulling you into his warm chest, head burrowing in his body.

You made no move to remove yourself from his body, and his arms were snug against your back.

“Kill as many as you can, as soon as you can. Then lay low, hunt. Don’t fall for any of that ally-bullshit.”

His voice was rushed, eyes filled with emotion. He felt for you, a scared child. He remembered his fear all too well.

You sniffled in his chest, hands balling at the thin fabric of his top.

And you listened to him.

In those next few hours, during the bloodbath, you killed two, both with knives to the chest. The Capitol citizens cheered as your face reflected the highest kill-count. You knew it was nothing to be proud of.

That next evening, while the rest of the Career pack slept, you stole the boy from One’s — Yves — backpack, shoving their weapons into it as quietly as possible.

Your small size came handy, being able to stealthily move around them, you were lucky the arena was a desert, sand not making a noise.

The girl from One — Aithon — began to lightly stir, and you knew it was now or never. Finnick’s words from the night before mixed with Enobaria’s, and that was all you needed to take a sword in each hand and take down the two tributes from One.

Their deaths were quick, the canons sounding out and Mace waking up, his laying figure looking up at you. Small but powerful.

You stood over his body, one foot on each of his arms, keeping him from reaching up to you.

His face twisted in confusion, looking over to the blood pouring from Yves and Aithon, each who had just been sleeping soundly next to him.

Your knife neared his face in milliseconds, and you had to force your arms down as he began to scream.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could whisper, guilt beginning to cloud your senses.

But you pushed past it, knowing you had to come out alive. No other option.

“Y/N! Please!”

And then there was silence.

He wasn’t anything special, but he was from home.

You held in tears as the canon sounded, running from the three as quickly as you could.

Whilst you hid behind one of the large cacti around the arena, Enobaria grinned as Capitol citizens celebrated her and you, her star tribute.

Finnick watched, heart tugging, knowing that he had encouraged the killings, he had told you to trust no one. And you had listened.

And from then on, you became the Capitol’s angel, their winged symbol of purity, despite the blood and deaths of many on your hands.

When Snow placed the crown on your head, you smiled, naively, and thanked the crowd. Thanked them for their donations, and their belief in you from the beginning.

But that’s all you were to them: a spectacle. A little girl who killed five in one day, a little girl who’s life had been dedicated to these games, to win. A little girl who would never get her purity back, never get to sleep without seeing Mace’s terrified face before she killed him.

He didn’t deserve it, none of them did. But it was life or death. And there was no way you were going to die.

PRESENT DAY, THE THIRD QUARTER QUELL

Your group continued up to the Cornucopia, you and Finnick taking the tail.

Peeta and Finnick drew a map in the dark sand, you leaned against the side of the metal Cornucopia, Johanna plopping down next to you, and Katniss on your other side.

It all happened in a blur. One second, Wiress was singing her song about a mouse and the clock, and the next, Gloss was on top of her, knife straight into the heart.

Katniss’s arrow struck him, you grabbing your swords to get Cashmere who was standing behind him.

Finnick rushed after you. He knew you could take Cashmere, but what happened if Brutus appeared? Brutus had never been kind to you, and it was doubtful he would start now.

Your sword stuck Cashmere in the leg, and she screamed, falling onto the little amount of ground that the middle sector offered.

She turned over, knife in her left hand, grazing your ankle slightly. Luckily your stylist had dressed you in thicker socks; she had been an absolute idiot about most things, but at least she had your back in the arena.

Your thigh was still slightly burning with pain, but you pushed through it, sticking both your swords into Cashmere’s chest, a strangled gasp leaving her lips and her head falling back against the ground.

The canon sounded out, but you continued to pull your swords out and drive them back into her chest, more blood pouring out.

You were grunting now, mind hyper-aware of your actions, but refusing to stop.

You kept driving the sharp tools into her chest, her body slightly moving up when you retracted the metal, and then caving in as you pushed them back.

You weren’t going to die; you refused to.

Hands were on your shoulders, pulling you backwards, and you turned, swinging.

Finnick let go and backed away, hands held up. He knew you’d never hurt him, but once you’re in the killing mindset, it’s very hard to break it.

You dropped the weapons to your side, a long breath leaving your lips that you hadn’t realized you’d be holding in.

Finnick pulled you along with him, hand on your side as he brought you over to everyone else.

All of them were staring with wide eyes — besides Johanna of course.

Katniss knew you were brutal, but she didn’t realize how quickly you did turn into the angel of death. One second you were smiling, laughing at something Johanna had said.

Then your eyes were lit with a fire, teeth out, and running, faster than Katniss had ever seen someone move.

She had watched you kill Cashmere in seconds, continuing to drive the weapons into her, sounds of exasperation leaving your lips but you were unrelenting.

You felt like you were fifteen again, scared and angry, brutal to anyone who crossed your path. Your swordsmanship was uncanny, and Katniss dreaded the moment that she had to try and kill you.

And then the Cornucopia began to spin, extremely fast. You grabbed onto Finnick, a sword sucking down into the water, your other tight in the palm of your opposite hand.

You and Finnick fell to the ground, grabbing at the hard rocks to keep from flying to the water.

And then you heard Peeta scream Katniss’s name, and the two of you both yelled a loud, “shit!”

You pushed off the hard ground, crawling to the side of the island, hand reaching down to grab Johanna’s axe and try to hoist the two of them up.

You grunted, holding onto a small portion of the metal that wasn’t sharp. Your feet dug into the ground, sword shoved into the rock to keep you grounded.

You watched as Katniss went flying down, and then Johanna was on top of you, the two of you gasping for oxygen when the spinning stopped.

You and Johanna were back on your feet, rushing to help Katniss out of the water.

You all made your way back onto the sand, where it was relatively safe.

You discussed strategy, your fingers tracing different shapes into Finnick’s thigh.

“Who’s left then?” Katniss asked, eyes flickering between you and Johanna, the two of you having a conversation with your eyes.

“Brutus and Chaff, I think that’s all,” Peeta announced, all eyes shifting to you at the mention of your district-mate.

“I get Brutus,” you spoke clearly, eyes hard.

“Y/N…” Finnick spoke, hand smoothing down your arm.

“Just… I know him. I can handle it, I swear,”

He had helped train you, of course you would know his methods like the back of your hand. You had been seeking revenge for years, waiting for the day you could get him back.

What had the games done to you? Fantasizing about killing someone?

And then you were back there, back to the moment your life really ended.

You were dressed in clothes Snow had picked out, a hairstyle Snow had picked out, makeup Snow had picked out. You were his newest doll, malleable to his every demand.

It was your victory tour, and Enobaria and Brutus were accompanying you, helping you with speeches and coming to terms with your new life as a Capitol pet.

You were finishing up in the Capitol, the final destination. Snow had laid out his conditions for you: your pride and body now belonged to the Capitol, and with it, they could do what they pleased. Your company came with a high price.

He had threatened your family back in Two, describing in detail what would become of them if you didn’t comply with his wishes.

You had gone back to the train and told Enobaria and Brutus, eyes spilling hot tears when Enobaria pulled you into her arms, hands stroking your hair. At least she was kind.

Brutus, however, was not.

His boisterous laugh rang off the walls of the train, your eyes peeking out from Enobaria’s embrace to glare at him.

“Let me know when you start, sweetheart,” he smirked, a scowl overtaking your features.

You had been waiting to get him back, to show him that weren’t a little slave for his disposal. Finnick understood your rage, more than any other person could.

He wanted to kill Brutus just as badly as you did.

No one else asked any questions, and for that you were grateful.

And then the screaming started, and you jumped to your feet, eyes frantic and scanning the area.

Whoever it was, they were screaming for Katniss, and rather brutally as well.

And off she took. You were the fastest, so you caught her first, arms around her shoulders to steady her, but she kept moving, screaming back to the voice.

She stopped abruptly, and shot an arrow into a large black bird that was flying over your heads.

The screaming stopped immediately. And then it began again, this time, it was the voice of Mace. And you felt the blood drain from your entire body, legs suddenly shaking and threatening to go out.

The words he had screamed to you before you had slit his throat were wrapping around your body, swallowing you whole.

“Y/N! Please! Y/N!” You were running then, the screaming getting louder and louder, tears streaming down your face as you tried to escape it; the horror that would haunt you forever.

“It’s not real, they’re jabberjays!” Katniss assured you, running behind you, trying to catch up.

You saw Finnick and Johanna’s faces ahead through your blurry vision, and you sped up, Finnick’s arms wide for you to run into.

But it was a force field, and you collided right into it, falling to the ground in a heap of tears and painful memories.

You covered your ears, head digging into the ground to stop the noise, but it wouldn’t stop. You wailed, and Finnick was hitting the force field, which he was standing on the direct other side, but there was no avail.

He was screaming for you, to look at him, listen to his voice. But the field was soundproof, and he had to watch with a heavy heart as you sobbed, the sounds of the person you betrayed all those years ago the only thing you could focus on.

Finnick’s hands were all over you, smoothing down your hair, checking your face, helping you stand.

Peeta was doing the same with Katniss, the both of you having tear-stains down your cheeks and dirt smudged into your cheeks.

You were frozen solid, eyes big and wide, legs slightly shaking. You had never felt worse about something than what you did to Mace that dreadful night. His screams haunted your dreams, and to have the Gamemakers play into that weakness reminded you just who the real enemy is.

“Y/N, look at me,” Finnick’s hands were on the sides of your face, pulling you closer to his protective figure.

“It wasn’t real. It wasn’t him,” he shook his head lightly, your lips still quivering from fear.

You could only muster the strength to simply nod, telling him that you knew, but the Gamemakers were cruel, so cruel, and they had hit you right where it hurt.

Just as you were beginning to regain your usual automatic-kill mindset, a small box flew down, straight into your hands.

Everyone gathered around you, curious as to what could’ve been sent.

You knew Enobaria would have your back, and considering the sponsors this year were based upon what you had left over from your games, you were lucky. You had a large pot of donations under your name, not needing much assistance when you were in your first games.

You screwed off the top, being met with a small vile of Crave Cure, the very concoction that she had sent you during your games. It came with a note reading: remember who the real enemy is. I’m always rooting for you. - Baria

That assured you of Enobaria’s stance, likely scheming with Haymitch and Plutarch behind the scenes, ensuring your protection by Thirteen.

Finnick smiled next to you, Johanna calling out with happiness.

“Finally!” Johanna cheered, axe thrust into the air.

You even broke a smile, suddenly distracted from the traumatic experience you had just endured.

You looked up, seeing the confused looks on Katniss and Peeta’s faces.

They would’ve never heard of Crave Cure, it was the most expensive thing a mentor could send their tribute, and required many sponsors. It was usually only sent to the Careers, both you and Finnick had received it during your games.

“Crave Cure,” you spoke, Katniss’s eyes meeting yours.

“One drop on your tongue and it cures hunger for 12 hours,” you smiled to them, picking up the vile.

“Enobaria is a saint,” Johanna spoke, watching as you dropped a tiny bit of the brown liquid onto your tongue, a content sigh escaping your lips.

Beetee went next, then Finnick and Johanna.

Katniss and Peeta stood awkwardly to the side, not knowing to approach or not.

“Oh, enough of that! We’re allied, aren’t we? Take a drop,” you urged, placing the vile into her hands.

Peeta nodded, and that seemed to be all the convincing Katniss needed before mimicking your action and gagging when she tasted the fluid.

You laughed at her expression, a light-hearted tease. “Not the best, but it does do its job,”

You figured you had really won her trust, considering how she walked next to you during the hike to the big tree.

The two of you talked about your families back home. You complimented her dedication, to protect her little sister.

She had killed your Cato and Clove; the two you had spent hours coaching, assuring they’d be okay in the end. Words you had needed so badly during your games.

Through talking with Katniss, you realized no one deserved to win as much as she did. She was selfless, willing to sacrifice herself for both her sister and Peeta, placing herself as a protector, not a victim.

And then the peace you had all been building crashed down, Katniss suddenly retreating from the trust you all had built after Beetee offered she go with you and Johanna.

“Why can’t Johanna and Y/N go? I’ll protect you with Peeta,” she spoke, and you met Finnick’s gaze. You read the fear in his eyes, knowing this the was now or never moment.

“Katniss,” you spoke, hands resting on her shoulders.

“You know who the true enemy is,” you whispered, holding her intense eye-contact.

Her eyes softened at your words, everything seemingly clicking into place. With a nod, you grabbed her hand, and pulled her with you and Johanna.

A look over your shoulder to Finnick, and a nod. Your eyes said it all: I love you. I’ll see you soon, once we are safe and out of the Capitol’s hands.

You and Johanna halted your movements, stopping Katniss as you did.

“Stay down,” Johanna instructed Katniss, grabbing her arm.

“What-“ Katniss was about to scream, and you could not let that happen.

You grabbed her face with your hands, eyes frantic for her faith.

“You can trust us,” you whispered, barely loud enough for the cameras to pick up on.

But the raw emotion in your eyes calmed Katniss, giving Johanna the opportunity to cut the tracker out, Katniss’s arm beginning to bleed heavily.

“It’s alright,” you soothed her, your arm out to Johanna, waiting for the inevitable sear of pain.

And then it came, and you placed your body over Katniss’s not allowing her to get up and try to attack.

But then you spotted Brutus over the rock, his hard eyes staring straight into yours.

“Y/N,” Johanna warned, watching the familiar fire begin to brew.

You were up in seconds, sword in one hand, knife in the other, running up the rocky hill. The pain in your arm was masked by the rush of adrenaline you ran high off, killing spree — if you will.

Johanna grunted in anger, but she knew not to expect anything different from you.

“Do not move,” she instructed Katniss, picking up her axe to follow you.

You had reached Brutus quickly, pouncing onto his back and driving your sword straight through his abdomen.

He cried out in pain, blood soon coating your legs that wrapped around his waist.

You pulled the sword out, taking the knife to his neck. He was dead in seconds, the familiar canon sounding throughout the arena.

After registering what you had done, images of Katniss flooded your mind and you internally cursed yourself, rushing back to the spot you had left her and Johanna.

Johanna was back to your side, but Katniss was no where to be seen.

“Fuck!” You cursed, sprinting back towards the tree where Beetee, Finnick, and Peeta were.

She had likely gone back to protect Peeta and kill Finnick, and you were not about to let that happen.

Johanna tried to keep up with you; but even with a gushing arm and slit leg, you were fast. Much faster than anyone else.

“Finnick!” You screamed, feet pounding against the hard ground, propelling you towards the tree, where you watched Katniss aim her arrow straight at Finnick’s head.

Beetee was on the ground, and you crouched, feeling for his pulse. His heart was still beating and you hovered over him protectively, in case Katniss decided to turn around and fire at you too. Which seemed very likely.

You watched as Finnick said something to Katniss, obviously resonating with her, the bow slightly lowering.

“Johanna! Give me your arm!” You swung around, panic-struck and searching for the familiar face.

And you saw her a few feet below, trying to climb the vines you had mounted with ease.

You looked between Finnick and her, torn as to which to try and protect. You knew Finnick would hold his own, so you turned back around and began to move for Johanna, quick feet avoiding possible injuries.

But just as you were in grabbing-distance of her, Finnick’s voice rang out, screaming, “Get away from that tree!”

A crack of something echoed around you, and you turned wildly, trying to figure out what had just happened.

Then you understand what Finnick had meant, a loud crack of lightening rained down and sent you flying, reaching for Johanna as you flew past her, her terrified eyes meeting yours.

The last thing you remembered was being pulled up into the air by a large claw, head and limbs limp as you were hoisted up; sword still secure in your palm, a protection habit you had picked up since your games. You always needed to be armed, after all, life was the arena.

You awoke to the sound of a heart monitor, steady beeping lightly calming your high-alert nerves.

You winced sitting up, large bandages wrapped around your forearm and thigh.

You inspected your surroundings, two empty mats in front of you, and Katniss sleeping to your left.

You stood, hushed voices on the other side of the door that reached the ceiling of the craft you were on.

You looked for a weapon of sorts, not willing to go in unarmed. On the other side of the empty room was your sword, glimmering and coated in blood.

You walked over to it, legs sore and aching, the familiar metal calming against your palm.

The door immediately opened as you approached it, Haymitch and Plutarch’s widening as they spotted your weapon of choice clutched in your ruthless hands.

But it dropped to the floor with a loud clatter when your tired eyes met Finnick’s, a relieved smile coming over your features.

You rushed to him, throwing yourself into his arms. His lips met yours halfway, melting into his strong hold around your body.

The two of you fit together perfectly, like you had been made in the same mold.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him tighter to your already close bodies.

You poured all your pent up feelings into the kiss, all the feelings you had suppressed since the fight that had ended your relationship.

It was the most relaxed you had been in the whole week, since your name was plucked from the bowl of living victors.

His lips moved against yours as he squeezed your hips, hands feeling everything they could, to ensure that it was in fact you, and you were alive and safe in front of him.

You pulled a part, a grin across your small face.

He smiled back, but your bliss was interrupted from the clearing of a throat behind you. You spun around, eyes meeting the expectant ones of Haymitch, Plutarch, and Beetee.

The look on your face said it all. And Haymitch nodded, validating all the thoughts that had been running through your head.

You were safe, headed for the secret hideout of Thirteen. All was okay.

You almost began to laugh thinking about how the Capitol would react, their Angel and Darling being two of the biggest conspirators in a rebellion. How ironic.

And Katniss was on the ship, you had successfully carried out your tasks.

“Where’s Johanna?” You asked, a smile still dotting your face.

Finnick’s composure broke, and your heart dropped, realizing the obvious.

“No, no, no, no,” you began to back away, spine hitting the hard metal of the table.

“I went after Brutus, I didn’t cut the tracker… fuck! Oh my god, Finnick, oh god,” you began to dry-heave, accepting her capture as your fault.

Finnick’s hands were on your biceps, steadying you and pulling you back into his chest.

“Johanna and Peeta are in the Capitol,” Plutarch spoke, your worst fears being confirmed.

“It’s all my fault,” you groaned, head in your hands. You had killed, hunted, and tortured. But the idea of a friend’s death being on your hands hurt more than any of those ever did.

Haymitch spoke reassuring words behind you, but Finnick’s hold and the idea of betraying Johanna was all you could focus on.

How would she forgive you? Was she alive? How would you ever cope if she wasn’t, and it was all your fault? Of course, you let the murderer take over, and went after Brutus.

Finnick’s arms soothed down your back, keeping your grounded as you were flooded with grief, with the heavy weight of betrayal.

Johanna and you were close friends, you were supposed to protect each other in the games. She had protected you, always by your side, and you neglected to do the same.

“We’re going to try and rescue them as soon as we can,” Haymitch said, even though you all knew that might be an impossible task.

And then Finnick slipped his hand into yours, fingers curling around yours and softly rubbing your knuckles.

You composed yourself, closing your eyes as you took in a deep breath, regaining focus on just your interlocked hands. Finnick always knew how to relax you.

All you had wanted initially was to get out of this quarter quell alive, to return home to your big mansion and family. To hug them again, to prove to the Capitol that they could take everything from you, but they couldn’t kill you.

But now, you realized that all had been in vain. Where you really belonged was here, holding hands with Finnick, discussing how you were going to break your friends from the Capitol’s mean grip.

You’d die for him, for them. You’d flap your wings once more to ensure they’d all live.

When Katniss first volunteered for Primrose, you hadn’t understood how she would sacrifice her life for another.

But now you knew, and you knew you’d do it too.

You finally had something to live for, someone you loved, who understood all that you had gone through better than anyone else.

Life was the arena, and if it came down to it, you knew the angel would sacrifice herself for the darling.

#imagine #angst #maeve writes 🎀#finnick odair x you #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair #thg finnick #finnick odair x reader #catching fire

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the-90s-music-colosseum · 5 months

Text

Quarterfinals, Match 2

expand to see all propaganda received! (wall of text warning oh my god this is a severe cautionary message)

Lauryn Hill:

"she paved the way and was hot as fuck the whole time"

"Girl c'mon. Look at her. You're gonna try and tell me that isn't the most beautiful and attractive person alive? Okay. You're lying but okay."

"if u freaks don't give ms. lauryn hill the respect she deserves..."

"actually one of the prettiest women ever I'm such a lesbian for her. like irl I'm already a lesbian but she is helping"

Damon Albarn:

"Don’t think Damon should be here? Why don’t you get your head checked by a jumbo jet? Maybe you’ll feel heavy metal and calm down."

"If Damon is in the “some guy” category, he’s the heavenly and heartbreaking version. Damon is the sort of significant stranger I’d see on the train out of Colchester but could never speak to, just a face seen in passing yet too radiant to be real. I’d fall in love for an hour and carry the ache for a month."

"Damon sets the standard for me. I think he’s the most fascinating man alive. What I find attractive in Damon is not just his gorgeous bone structure and boyish charm, but how wholly he’s committed himself to music. Damon is an artist who walked the walk: in one of his roughest years with some of his rawest songwriting, he said he was no longer excited by anything except the creative process. He was disillusioned with the celebrity of it all, with his relationships suffering for it, and only wanted to make art: nothing more, nothing less. He would go on to compose film scores, write operas and stage musicals, produce other artists’ records, form collectives to fulfill his passion for world music, and create some of the most globally successful music of his career in a completely innovative format that placed him as the phantom behind the characters. Whenever one band takes a break, he makes a solo record or puts together a supergroup to stay busy. He’s uniquely collaborative and still writes personal letters inviting artists to record with him, and yet can function as a one-man show, acting as a multi-instrumentalist, a singer-songwriter and a producer. He’s been a constant voice of bringing British music to the world *and* bringing world music into Britain. Sure, he’s won Brit Awards and a Grammy among others, but he also has a Guinness World Record and was named an Officer of the British Empire for his services to music; his long work with Africa Express earned him respect even from peers who’d previously dismissed him, and his commitment to support his Malian collaborators in the face of violence earned him the title of Local King in Mali. There is so much talent in the world, but there is truly no one else with a career that looks like Damon Albarn’s. Damon is far more than just a prettyboy to look nice on a magazine cover, but looks are the ultimate point of this tournament, so make no mistake: he was terribly, terribly pretty. You watch him performing in the 90s, you sift through photoshoots and interviews and documentaries, and it feels *cruel* how beautiful he was. If his talent was god-given, so was his face. To put a bow on this thesis: I don’t know if Gorillaz and Damon’s musical universe would be the experimental, globe-trotting, boundary-pushing community affair it is if Blur hadn’t become such a central figure in Britpop and if Damon had not been made such a media spectacle, and I don’t know if Damon would have been that spectacle if he wasn’t so ungodly pretty. The domino effect is that Damon’s cherubic face launched a thousand multimedia art school projects for decades to come."

"I wish I was basically any bloke in the 90s so I could tongue Damon Albarn down. Damon will see a man and ask “is anyone gonna kiss that?” and not wait for a response."

"I have a pillow with his face on it. I sleep with it every night 😊"

"“I’m more homosexual than Brett Anderson, always have been. As far as bisexuality goes, I’ve had a taste of that particular fruit, or have been tasted you might say…” is just the rawest most Shakespearean statement ever"

"he is the ultimate Pretty Boy ™. his glorious golden locks, his electric blue eyes. he is if Princess Diana was a Britpop Dude. he is the Regina George of Britpop. he is if Aphrodite took male form. Zeus would come down to earth to fuck him if he knew. he is a caffeinated orange cat let loose. he is deranged. he is unhinged. you never know what will come out of his mouth. he had sexual tension with every single man who knew him. he pulled justine fucking frischmann. his aura knows no bounds. he is a siren. he is a weird guy. but being so gorgeous stunning ethereal didn't stop him from also being one of the most prolific songwriters of his generation"

"THE MAIN BLUR"

"literally where do i even begin. i could write entire essays on this man. a good place to start would be the beetlebum music video, i suppose. i'll never forget the first time i watched that music video. something in me changed, my brain chemistry was altered, my life was never the same, i view the world a lot differently now. and a lot of the viewing i'm doing is of pictures of damon albarn's face because of boy do i have a lot of those saved. every time i try to look for a photo of something on my phone i can't find it because there's so much damon. okay that's maybe an exaggeration but this man has the most unfathomable beauty ever. his eyes? HIS EYES. god dammit i love his eyes i want to stare at them until the end of time like nothing else exists. i'm so normal about this man (lying) and while i'm usually very shameless about my interests i'm actually incredibly glad this propaganda is anonymous because otherwise. yeah. but the world deserves to see damon albarn's beauty and also hear his fantastic voice because what the fuck. his voice is literally the most gorgeous sound ever produced like bro sounds like that and expects me not to fall in love? i want this man to sing his silly songs and talk absolute nonsense to me until the sun eventually blows out and the world ends. cmon damon girlies let's demolish this tournament i know there are a lot of you."

"He’s beautiful. He’s a little rat. He’s a sweetheart. He’s a dickhead. He’s a musical genius. He’s a dumb bitch. He’s a jock. He’s a weirdo. He’s real. He’s an illusion. He’s everything. He’s just Damon."

"DAMON DAMON DAMON where do I begin oh jeez I've hyperfixated on this man for a solid 4 years and still going strong. Damon makes me wish that British people are real. That says A LOT. This man created a whole ass ANIMATED BAND WITH A SHIT TON OF LORE as a SIDE HUSTLE??? Not to mention, what other man has collaborated with Stevie Nicks, MF DOOM, Del the Funky Homosapien, Snoop Dogg, AND Beck?! People, we're literally in the presence of a god. And he's STILL GOING. Anyways, TL;DR, damon is so so so neat and cool and he should definitely win this competition. Thank you."

"Okay 90s Damon is The Perfect Boy yes yes, but the people who parrot the Daily Mail and say "he's ugly now" will never understand. I would still suck every drop from him on his deathbed."

"Vote for whoever you want to. But Damon is so pretty."

"i did not spend hours admiring this beautiful man's face on pinterest just to see him lose."

"Damon Albarn just brings me joy. When I'm watching him perform, following along as the camera lingers on and adores his pretty face, I get butterflies like I'm 15 again. It's nice to still feel that totally unguarded giddiness sometimes."

"God let the intrusive thoughts win making Damon. What if he's a beautiful blond twink with eyes like saucers and dick to his knees, he reads Herman Hesse and plays footie and is insufferable about both, he'll be the most prolific musician of his generation and write operas and seminal albums in 5 different genres and also he's gonna be the dumbest bitch alive? He'll also be kinda bi, but only kinda. And send."

"when i found out about his existence, my life was changed forever. i wish i could use him like the hannah montana boot milk pillow and chuck him at the wall so he makes a loud thud"

"Think of the drama and anon fights it'll cause if Damon wins it all! And think of how quiet it'll get after Damon's out. You'll miss him when he's gone, like memories of a noisy house years after it's grown silent. Choose Damon, and keep the messy train chugging."

"Even the Gallagher brothers have the hots for him."

"Kiss kiss I love him also you can't vote for any of the Seattle men they're literally copy and paste it's not fair. We need Brit representation"

"I want to take care of him, I want to provide for him. I need to gauge his baby blue puppy dog orbs out to I can clean them with wood varnish, paint shades of Pantone 320 C in his eyes, spray eau de parfume by dior in them and sew it back into his eyes like that scene in Toy Story 2."

"Seeing as simply filling the page with ‘Damon’ written 10000000 times isn’t going to cut it 😅 may I admit/submit: I DO have him tattooed on my being (no descriptive, is this anon?); he’s inspired somewhat unhinged late night/early morning fandom conversations in which I’ve served as ‘parish’ priest hearing confessions from all manner of folk about what they’d like to do to him/receive from him; sadly I lost an essay where I detailed why the letters that make up his name suit him so well, and described him as the hot caramel sauce to Graham’s cool vanilla ice cream. He’s a faerie princess with a nose that makes people weep and a voice that feels like the warmest home and he gives amazing hugs. He loves trains and chickens and his tuxedo cat. He’s annoying and sweet and somewhat unhinged and his music saves people and all this is on top of that fantastic dick. He’s a dream yet very real and we’re fucking blessed to be on earth at the same time as him, amen"

"Damon Albarn was a beautiful, beautiful boy. The world saw that, regardless of if every individual reading this has the same taste in men; it felt like a truth of the universe at the time. They don't make celebrities that angelic in face and erratic in personality anymore."

"I need to touch his eyebrows, nose and prostate just one time JUST ONE TIME COME ON"

#most attractive 90s musician #poll #polls #lauryn hill #fugees #damon albarn #blur #90s music #tournament

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bluejutdae · 2 months

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• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Jisung x you

genre: friends to lovers, romance

warnings: none

The guy is boring, misogynistic and keeps talking about his job like it’s the best thing in the world. He’s a banker, for fuck’s sake. How exciting can it be?

What did Hannie mean with “play along”? You smile thinking about your best friend. You have been friends for years now, and you’re convinced he’s your soulmate. Maybe he feels the same, but he’s unyielding in his idea of needing to be alone, to only focus on his career and not let romance distract him. You love him, but who are you to try to convince him he’s wrong? So you keep your feelings in line and don’t let them overflow.

“Oh, my love, please forgive me! I know I made a mistake but take me back!” A loud voice interrupts the umpteenth story about bankers. Jisung is in the restaurant now, hands clasping over his heart and his big boba eyes on you. “I can’t lose you, you’re the best thing in my life.”

Oh, so this is what he meant by “play along”?

“Sung”, you start. In a very dramatic manner, he interrupts you, a finger on your lips and unshed tears in his eyes.

“No, don’t talk. Hear me for a moment, I have to ask you this, even if it’s the last thing I get to say to you”.

You repress the instinct to roll your eyes. To your right you can hear a confused “what the fuck is happening?”. Jisung’s voice is loud again, tho, and he’s suddenly on his knee, looking up at you with a teary smile. “My love, would you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” He has a ring in his hand. Where the fuck did he find a ring? Does he go around with an engagement ring in his pockets? Well, this is your best friend. And he’s fucking crazy.

You almost throw the napkin on the plate and get on your knees in front of Jisung. “Yes, yes, of course!” The smile on your lips is one of amusement, but for everyone is the smile of a newly engaged girl.

A round of applause fills the room and soon there’s a chanting of ‘kiss, kiss, kiss’.

The thing is: Han didn’t think this through. Did he stop at a street vendor's stall to buy the prettiest (fake) ring for this? Yes. Did he plan this whole farce in his head to have fun? Also yes. Did he put his fingers in his eyes so he would tear up? Sadly, yes. Did he stop for a second thinking about the fact that newly engaged couples kiss? No.

Jisung looks at you with comically large eyes and his mouth slightly agape and you take pity on him. Suppressing your laughter, you cradle his face into your hand and kiss him. It’s just a simple peck: your lips on his soft, pretty lips; your hand covers the most of the kiss from the guy you had a date with, but it’s the least of your worries now.

It’s just a simple kiss, chaste and functional to the farce, but it’s something you’ve dreamt for a while. The minutes following are a blur in your mind: you left your share of money on the table, apologized quickly to your date and grabbed your coat, leaving the restaurant hand in hand with Jisung.

You’re running on the empty sidewalk, still holding hands, laughing loudly when it starts to snow. It’s so intense and so beautiful, you both go quiet and stop. You love the snow falling: it’s so peaceful and beautiful, the snowflakes dancing in the hair, light and frozen. Seen from the outside, you’re just another couple holding hands in the streets, looking at the snow falling. For a moment alone, you let yourself daydream.

You let yourself imagine it’s real, that you’re a couple holding hands and walking home where you’ll get cozy on the couch, under a blanket, to watch the snow from the window. You’ll kiss again, you’ll make love, you’ll live your lives together and you’ll love each other forever. God, you’re so dumb. Why are you hurting yourself like this, now? It was just a fake kiss.

“So… we kissed.” Han says in a low voice. You can sense he’s looking at you, but you’re not ready yet to look at him and break the calm bubble you created around yourself.

“It wasn’t a real kiss.” It can’t be. Otherwise you kissed your best friend, who you’re in love with, and if it’s true then you can already see the floodgates crack under the pressure.

“It was for me.” The air is cold and it’s freezing your nose, but the shock of his words makes you forget all that.

“Uh- what?”

“The kiss. It was real for me. I know it wasn’t a big kiss but it was real. And I’ve thought about kissing you millions of times but this time it wasn’t a dream and it was real and I don’t think I can go back to when we hadn’t kiss and I don’t wanna ruin our friendship but now I know how your lips feel on mine and-“ he stops and takes a deep breath, looking down at his shoes.

“I’m sorry. I- I don’t really know what to say.”

“Do you really think it wasn't a real kiss? Does it… does it really mean nothing to you?” He asks, and you’re not sure why but you can feel your heart aching. Why does it feel like you’re rejecting him? He’s the one who doesn’t want a relationship, he’s the one who banned love from his life. And you tell him so.

“You said there was no place for anything that wasn’t work in your life.”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

He turns completely towards you and you can barely see the redness on his round cheeks, but it’s there. “Before you kissed me and suddenly I realized how stupid I’ve been all this time. I know you’re the perfect girl for me, but I was too convinced I couldn’t handle a relationship. But why do I have to deprive myself of something I know would be good?”

“Don’t do that, Hannie. Don’t say this if you’re gonna change your mind later. You’ve repeated the same thing for years, and now suddenly you want more?” You can endure the idea of just being friends even if you’re in love with him, but you won’t let yourself get too hurt. And you’ll get hurt if he wants something now that he’ll change his mind about later.

“I’ve always wanted more. But I didn’t realize exactly how much I was giving up!”

“Tomorrow, you’ll change your mind.”

“I won’t.” Jisung lounges and grabs your hand. When did you let go of each other’s hand?

“You say that now, but tomorrow or in a week, you’ll be tired and stressed over work and you’ll decide you don’t want another commitment…” You feel like an asshole, but you’re just trying to protect yourself from an even worse heartbreak. His face shifts, and you remember that it’s your best friend the one you’re talking to, that no matter what he’ll always love and protect you from harm.

“Do you trust me?” You nod, fingers squeezing his.

“Then trust me I won’t change my mind. I won’t hurt you, I promise.” You bite the inside of your cheek, considering his words.

“I want more. I want to be able to kiss you everyday, I want to be able to call you my girlfriend. I want to be by your side on the days I’m stressed and on those I’m happy. I want to be by your side anytime you’ll let me.”

“Promise me you won’t regret it.” How can you say no to him? You’re scared he’ll break your heart, but it’s true he never broke a promise.

“I won’t regret it.” Again, it’s you who kisses him. This kiss is nothing like the previous: it’s hot and his lips are immediately moving under yours. You can feel his breath on your lips and it’s a heady feeling and you want more and more and more.

You want to know what he tastes like and how his tongue feels on yours, so you’re quick to prod at his lips, demanding entrance and licking into his mouth. The sounds Jisung makes are the best sounds you’ve ever heard, and all your worries dissipate.

Kissing your best friend under the snow wasn’t how you expected the night to go, but you’re not gonna complain…

#stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #bluejutdae #skz #jisung x you #jisung x reader #jisung fluff #jisung fanfic #jisung texts

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ceesimz · 1 month

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Golden Key To The Sweet Life

There was something intoxicatingly endearing about the way Alexia interacted and whole-heartedly cared for her family and friends' children. Not to say you expected anything less, but you had been addicted to seeing it when you first met her and you are still addicted to it, if not more, now that you were a good few years into your relationship with her. Everytime you saw her with another's child, or when she would visit the Barca youth teams, or simply just talk with a young fan who gazed up at her like she was the Queen of the world, something ignited in your heart. Something strangely akin to the feeling of being homesick.

Over the course of your relationship, you two had had countless conversations about having children in the future. However, it was always ended with you both saying 'one day', it was never a concurrent topic. It was a dream, an ideal, never a reality.

But you just could not get it out of your mind anymore; the thought of her with your own children infiltrated your mind everytime you looked at her.

"Ale, I think I would like to have children soon."

It was blurted out whilst you both manuevered around the kitchen as you made a birthday cake for your friend's son and Alexia prepared some other small dishes to take along to his party. You saw the taller woman freeze in your peripheral vision but you were too nervous to look at her, so you continued mixing the ingredients in the bowl, acting as if you hadn't just said the words she'd secretly been thinking recently too. Then, to your surprise, she marched over, took the wooden spoon from your hand, placed it back in the bowl, and tenderly cupped your face.

"What do you mean?" She asked in an odd tone, scarily similar to the one she used when you would argue. It was hushed, flat, low, and slightly strict.

"I, um... I think we should talk about... us having kids together. Soon." You replied, your cheeks red under her hands. Her nostrils flared and her eyes went slightly wide.

"You mean that?" The look in her eyes was almost pleading, and it gave you a bit of hope.

"Yes, I do." You cover her hands with your own. "I really want to at least talk about it, properly, with you. Not right now, but soon. Please."

She stays silent for a few more moments. You both just look at each other wordlessly, but you are frustratingly unable to understand the countless emotions in her eyes right now. That is until she moves suddenly, picking you up and hugging you tightly, burying her face in your neck and releasing a shaky breath. There are words being mumbled into your skin but you can't hear them too well, too busy focusing on the feeling of her around you and the prospect of the future you'd dreamed of since you were young happening sooner than you thought it ever could.

"Ale, I can't hear you." You laugh lightly, but then your breath catches in your throat when she moves her head back to look at you with tears glistening in her eyes. "Oh, Ale."

"Yes, yes, yes. I want children with you, soon, I really do." Alexia whispers as she presses her forehead against yours, her eyes squeezed shut to keep in her emotions. "Nuestros propios hijos pequeños. No se me ocurrió nada mejor." (Our own little children. I couldn't think of anything better.)

That was the moment that decided it all, the moment that sealed and stamped your future. A few months later and you had gone through the early processes of reciprocal IVF. Your individual health screenings had thankfully given positive results that would ensure your plans for the process could go ahead.

It had been a worry for both of you, admittedly more for you, and there had been multiple sleepless nights and midnight discussions to quell your worries. Your decision to carry wasn't one out of convenience for Alexia's career, it was something you were certain on since you had your first thoughts of being a Mother, but that didn't stop Alexia from worshipping the ground you walked on at the selfless decision.

As Alexia had been there to comfort you, listen to you, and reasurre you when you had appointments and insecurities, you were there for her and squeezing her hand during every injection she had, as well as her egg retrieval appointment. She had been worried for quite some time about it, but in the room, she felt quietly excited. All the moments she'd imagined of herself with children of her own felt within reach now. The tears in her eyes weren't from discomfort or pain, they were from hope and excitement of what was to come.

Unfortunately, the first transfer didn't result in a pregnancy. It was heartbreaking of course. You both knew the chances of it working first time weren't that high, but that didn't soften the blow any less. It took about a week before the melancholy lingering in the air of your home left, but after spending crucial time together to come to terms with the news, you were both ready to begin the process again.

This time around, on the 11th day after your second transfer, you woke up with a strange, knowing feeling in your gut. Alexia had left some time ago for morning training, she had woken you up briefly with softly whispered words and a kiss to your forehead, before you fell back to sleep. But as you properly woke up, a thought immediately washed over you. It caused a little bit of anxiety and you probably should have waited until Alexia got home, but you had to find out before you got her hopes up. You bet that she hadn't properly let you in about her heartbreak the first time so you wanted to do everything to prevent her from feeling how you guessed she did.

So, throwing caution to the wind, you went to the medication cupboard and grabbed an emergency box of hCG urine tests before rushing off to the bathroom. You hadn't checked your phone at all this morning, you hadn't eaten or drank anything, you didn't even know what time it was. There was one thought and one thought only that consumed you.

Once you had prepared it all, you set the strip down on the counter and washed your hands. You sat in unbearable silence for about twenty seconds before you heard the front door open. A shocked gasp left your mouth before your hands could cover it and stop the sound.

"Just me, amor!" Alexia called out softly in case you were still asleep.

She headed straight to the kitchen for a snack, not knowing the huge secret you were harbouring just metres away in the downstairs bathroom. You figured there was no escape now, you just had to bite the bullet.

"Alexia, come here please!" You shouted in an unsure, breathless voice, unable to move from your spot on the bathtub rim with a shaking hand over your mouth still.

Alexia frowned at the slightly panicked voice shouting her, so she quickly made her way to the room you were in, chewing through half a mouthful of banana as she went.

"Sí, bebé, estoy aquí, what's wro-" She cut herself off when she noticed you and the test on the counter. Her eyes widen, causing you to panic.

"I am so sorry for doing it without you, I just had a really weird feeling and-"

Alexia shushes your tearful ramble and sits beside you, wrapping one arm around your back and ushering your face into her chest with the other that she places on your cheek.

"No, no, no apologies, I am here now. No apologies, just calm down." She whispers gently as the hand on your back slowly rubs up and down. Her eyes stay wide and focused on the strip on the counter, unsure of how long it's been there but she dispels her anticipation and focuses on you. "You say you felt weird, in what way?"

"I, I don't know, I... I just woke up with a strange feeling in my stomach, like in my gut. I had to do a test, even just one of these ones and not even a proper pregnancy test, I just had to know." You speak anxiously, moving your face back from her chest to wipe at the tears on your cheeks.

"Okay, that's okay. This feeling, is it like a sick feeling or a thought?" Alexia questions, tucking some hair behind your ear.

"A thought, a gut feeling." You sniffle, resting your forehead against her neck.

"Okay. I want you to know I'm not mad or anything like that. I'm just happy to be here with you for this." She reasurres you, pressing a firm kiss against your hairline.

"I am too. But... if it hasn't worked again, I didn't want to disappoint you." You mumble insecurely, fresh tears falling again.

"Hey, no. Don't think that. I could never be disappointed with you, I would only be disappointed with the world. Not you, never you. Never ever. I promise." Alexia responds in a stern but soft voice, squeezing you tight against her.

"Thank you. T'estimo, Ale."

"I love you too, so much." She smiles at you when you look up at her again. Quickly, she kisses you lightly once, before grabbing the box of tests off the counter. "How do we read this? What number means pregnant?"

You grab your phone and get up the screenshot you'd taken minutes earlier of which measurements meant what.

"Twenty-five means pregnant." You show her the image and she reads it carefully, over and over and over, giving you insight into how desperately she wants this.

"How long has it been going?" Alexia asks, her leg beginning to bounce as the nerves creep in.

"Maybe two minutes or more? But I think we should wait a bit longer to make sure whatever the result is is certain." She nodded in agreement and put the box back down, gently using a hand to tilt your chin to look up at her.

"Remember, amor, whatever this result is, it is still early. It has only been eleven days, there is still a chance, okay? If it's good, that's amazing and we will ring the nurse to try and get an earlier blood test. If it's not good, it's okay. We will deal with whatever happens." Alexia softly reminds you, a reminder for her too, to not get too disheartened (though that it is impossible in such a situation).

"I know. I have to be though." You say the last sentence ever so quietly, but Alexia catches it. She has no more words to say though, still so unsure what the 'right' way to go about this new life experience is.

Silence falls over the room, settling heavy over you both as you hold each other and think through your individual prayers to the world in your minds. It's not until Alexia grows impatient that she stands up and takes a deep breath, standing in between your legs and cradling your head.

"I adore you, guapa. Whatever this little thing says, I will still adore you. I will probably love you more after this no matter what the result is." She states.

You nod, tears still present in your eyes, and stand up beside her. With one arm wrapped around each other, you both smile, before turning your attention to the test on the counter. The air is still in the room, the world paused and faded, all the attention on this tiny strip that held the most important information in the world.

"Twenty-three." You mumble dejectedly. Alexia grabs your phone and gets up the screenshot.

"Mira, bebé, it says anything here is a 'grey area', it's still higher than we would expect and we are doing this early. I think that could be good news." Alexia explains shakily. Once you've read through the information on your phone, your head whips around to look up at her. She meets your gaze, a small and positive smile gracing her face. "I do think we should ring the nurse."

"Really?" You choke out with a quivering bottom lip, desperately trying to suppress the wave of hope that washed over you at Alexia's words.

"Yes, really."

"Oh my." You breathe out, knocking your phone out of her hand carelessly as you hug her tightly. "I might be pregnant."

"You might be pregnant." Alexia repeats in a shuddery voice, eyes stuck staring at the small test on the counter that might just have changed her world for the better.

Thankfully, to prevent days of anxious anticipation, the nurse agrees to carry out a blood test the following day. It's a game day for Alexia but luckily it's at home and later in the evening. She could be going into it with the excitement of an expecting mother, or she could be filled with suffocating disappointment. It's a contrast she doesn't want to think about, the game later that evening the last thing on her mind as her hand holds yours tightly on the drive to the appointment.

Her hand doesn't leave yours unless it's absolutely necessary, and even then she's very hesitant. But, as you lay on the bed with a hand over your eyes whilst the other is still held by Alexia, a heavy feeling of dread and doubt settles. The past 24 hours had been overwhelmingly positive; neither of you allowed a moment to think anything negative. Maybe it was naïve to do that, but the prospect of it all was so utterly exhilarating that you hadn't allowed yourselves to think of the next mental steps if it you weren't pregnant.

Now though, you were drowning under the weight of it all. Alexia had noticed, of course she had, but she was suffocated by her thoughts too. There was nothing either of you could say, it was simply just a waiting game.

Waiting, waiting, waiting, the ticking of the clock on the wall being a constant reminder of the meaningful depth of the moment. Time was a precious thing, of course, but right now it felt like the biggest dampener of all.

Neither of you knew how long you had been sitting silently for, plagued by the scale of the event, but then the nurse walks in and announces she has the results, causing you to snap out of your mindset.

"Are you ready to find out?" The nurse asks, offering no hint of emotion.

"No." You whimper almost silently. Alexia turns to you and goes to comfort you immediately, but she's interrupted.

"It's good news."

Your hand falls from your face as you sit up fully, eyes wide and tearful. Alexia can't tear her eyes away from you until you nudge her, bringing her back into the room.

"I can confirm you are indeed pregnant."

Your body collapses in relief and you fall back against the bed, hands covering your face again as you sob happily. Alexia rolls you onto your side and rests her forehead against yours, tears also falling from her too.

"Tienes un bebé ahí dentro, amor." Alexia cries, almost in relief. One of her hands is on top of your head whilst the other rubs up and down your side comfortingly. "Nuestro pequeño bebé. We are a family now."

You both relish in the great news until you calm down enough to allow the nurse to give you advice on ensuring your health is as best it can be for your pregnancy to go as smoothly as possible.

Later that day, when Alexia scored in her league game at the Johan, you shook your head disapprovingly when Alexia surreptitiously rubbed her hand over her stomach whilst gazing at you in the audience as she walked back to her position. Nobody knew about the news, nobody could know for weeks, and Alexia was pushing her luck with the celebration. You couldn't stay angry for too long, never towards Alexia, and all thoughts of irritation were forgotten when, at the end of the game, she ran up the stands, enveloped you in a tight but sweaty embrace, and whispered the most heart-warming words you'd ever heard her say in your life. People gave you puzzled looks when you pulled away from her with tears in your eyes, but that didn't matter. The bubble that the two of you had was perfect.

Alexia took the advice of the nurse a bit too literally. As if she wasn't doing it already, she did everything possible for you. Cooking meals full of the right nutritions, buying the best pregnancy vitamins, trying to do all the house chores herself (you couldn't let that one slide though), and sometimes literally carrying you whenever she could. On a bad day, did it wind you up? Yes, but she had the best intentions and when the hormones weren't overriding your mind, you appreciated every single act of care and kindness from her.

As you got closer to the 7 week mark when you would have your first scan, your anxiety grew tenfold. You were a stickler for doom scrolling, and varying websites and forums had argued a thought that was the root of your worry: the chance of miscarriage was higher with IVF. Alexia of course tried to dispel your concerns, but unfortunately this was one of them things that you just couldn't get over.

So the relief you felt at the first ultrasound when it was confirmed your baby was growing strong and healthily, was overwhelming. And as soon as you heard the heartbeat, you were a goner. Whether it was the hormones or just how much this meant to you, the overjoyed tears didn't stop all day. Leaving the building with a recording of the heartbeat and a strip of ultrasound photos, neither of you can recall a time where you were happier.

Keeping such a huge secret felt impossible. You had told your parents and Alexia had told her Mum and sister a few days after you found out just so you had a support system in case anything went wrong. The senior staff of the team at Barcelona also knew in case Alexia had to put everything on hold in case of an emergency, and it was the same with your work. But other than that, everyone else was none the wiser.

At least, that's what you thought.

"Amor, I have something to admit." Alexia sighed as you both climbed into bed one night during your eighth week of pregnancy.

"Hm?" You hummed, laying down and resting your head on her shoulder.

"Don't be mad." She grimaced, one arm behind her head as she stared up at the ceiling. You frown and hold yourself up on one elbow, your other hand landing on her cheek to turn her face to look at you.

"Tell me. I doubt I'll be mad." You told her softly, and your smile automatically decreases her worries.

"Well, Mapi was the one who helped with my injections whenever I was at training." You nodded affirmatively. "I may have told her... today, at training, that you are pregnant."

"Ale, when are you going to tell me about this geeky smile that hasn't left your face?" Mapi teases her best friend as both of them tidy up the field after training.

"There is nothing, Mapi." Alexia argues, but the aforementioned smile graces her face as she does so.

"Come oooon! Tell me, I think I have a guess, but I want you to say it." Mapi grins, throwing an arm around Alexia's shoulders and nudging her in the ribs.

"I can't tell anyone yet." Alexia mumbles.

"Say it, Ale." Mapi sings in her ear. "I will not tell anyone, I promise."

"You tell anyone and I will kill you, María." Alexia says sternly, standing with her hands on her hips and glaring down at her.

"No, won't tell anyone." Mapi puts on an innocent face as she holds her hands up in surrender.

"Vale." Alexia sighs, looking down at the ground for a moment before turning back to Mapi with the biggest smile she's shown to her. "We are almost eight weeks pregnant."

Mapi screams out of pure excitement and jumps onto Alexia, the taller woman not expecting it which led to them both toppling to the grass in the middle of the empty pitch.

"I knew it!" Mapi shouts, shaking Alexia's shoulders which makes her laugh, pushing Mapi off of her hips so that they lay beside each other. "You are going to be a Mamá!"

"María! ¡Calláte! What did I just say?!" Alexia shushes her desperately, slapping her shoulder.

"You said you're having a baby! I'm gonna be a tía!" Mapi laughs giddily, kicking her legs like a child.

"I should never have told you." Alexia grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest to try and convey a stern, angry look, but it's completely futile.

"I am so happy for you. Nobody deserves this more than you." Mapi rolls onto her side to look at her best friend. "How is she doing?"

"She's so great. So happy. A little bit sick, but handling everything so well." Alexia closes her eyes as she thinks of you and the strip of ultrasound photos hanging on your fridge.

"I have no words, Ale. You both deserve it so much, to be this happy. I'm so proud of you." Mapi states, pushing away her childish side to try and have a proper moment with Alexia.

"I didn't do anything, it's all her." Alexia jokingly deflects, not wanting to get emotional when anyone could walk out and catch them.

"Ay, I didn't stab you at training for nothing." Mapi grins again.

"Sí, I guess." Alexia murmurs with a shy smile. "I am so excited. My own lit-"

"¿Qué están haciendo ustedes aquí?" A voice shouts from the door of the main building.

"Vamos. You both invite me around for dinner soon so we can celebrate and talk more, sí?" Mapi suggests, leaping up and offering a hand to Alexia who nods and stands. "¡Capi va a ser Mamá!"

You tilted your head at Alexia and smiled widely at the adorable story.

"I don't mind, Ale. She's one of your best friends, and she did help us get pregnant, technically." You told her, placing a reasurring kiss to the corner of her mouth. "But that girl cannot keep a secret. I bet Ingrid already knows."

"I knew she would tell Ingrid. But if she tells anyone else I will strangle her." Alexia grumbled with a disapproving look on her face to which you quietly laughed at.

"No you won't. I can't have my baby mama in prison for attempted murder." You joked, poking at her cheek to get her to smile, which you succeeded at.

"You are right. Por supuesto." Alexia whispered, leaning up to meet your lips in a gentle kiss. When she pulled away, she gazed at you so lovingly that it took your breath away. "Venga, lay down and get comfy. You need sleep to look after our chiqui."

You smiled bashfully and lay on your side facing away from her, to which she shuffled up behind you and draped an arm over your side. Her hand settled on your stomach of course, a new gesture you could never get over, so you covered her hand with yours and squeezed it.

"You are going to be the best Mami, Ale." You whispered, Alexia immediately smiling into the back of your neck and placing a few kisses there.

"Tú también." She mumbled, speaking her beliefs whole-heartedly.

Due to Alexia's busy schedule and her understandable defiance to miss an appointment, you both didn't have an aligned day off together for another scan until the fifteenth week of pregnancy. In the past two weeks, you had both told everyone in your life that you were expecting a baby. It was difficult to do since Alexia had to travel a lot, most of the time it was you meeting up with family or friends with Alexia on a FaceTime call, but it was still incredibly special nevertheless.

Today though was an important day; not only a check-up for the baby and yourself, but it would also be the day to found out the gender. You weren't too fussed about finding out or not, but Alexia was not a very patient person, she would plan out every step of her life if she could. So it was an easy decision, you would have the check-up scan, do a blood test, then go about the rest of your day whilst waiting for an email from the nurse.

Seeing the baby much more developed and bigger was of course an emotional moment, nothing in your life so far could compare.

"Míralo, dios mío. Mi bebé." Alexia said quietly, clutching your hand as she gazed at the screen showing the ultrasound. "I am so glad it is just one."

You laughed and shook your head at her comment, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel the same.

"They have your legs, Ale." You smiled softly as you watched your baby kick their legs away on the screen. It wasn't possible to feel yet, but you knew in a few weeks time you would be in endless amounts of pain as the aforementioned legs kicked at you all over.

"They better like football." Alexia stated, again making you laugh.

"If they don't, you can't walk out on me." You warned her teasingly, but she took it too seriously.

"No, never, amor." She frowned, lifting your hand and pressing a firm kiss to the back of it. "They will just have to live with their Mami shouting about it every week."

"By the time they're born, it'll probably be the only sound that soothes them to sleep." You said.

The thought of that makes her smile and she falls into a daydream about it - her baby laying on her chest whilst she watches a football game, dressed in matching Barça shirts, desperately trying to keep her running commentary quiet for the baby and for you who was sleeping in the bedroom, and-

"Okay, let's do the blood tests now."

An hour later and you both were walking around Barcelona, looking at the city you love and where your family would grow. It was a waiting game now, you could get any email any second. Your plan was to wait for it to be sent, then go into a bakery and show the worker the email who would be able to give you some kind of baked treat with either blue or pink in it. Simple, yes, but it would be a moment for just the two of you (and the baker, you supposed) that you would remember forever.

So, some time later when Alexia's phone pinged with the email notification and she confirmed who it was from, you both smiled excitedly and immediately began heading towards the bakery. You picked up the small cake, thanked the baker who congratulated you many times, before heading home.

Once you were in the comfort of your own kitchen, you grabbed a fork each and sat down at the island, unable to keep your eyes off each other.

"Whatever it is, I am so happy to be doing this with you." Alexia states softly, taking your free hand and holding it tight on top of the counter.

"There's no one I'd rather do it with." You respond matter-of-factly.

"Me too." Alexia murmurs, raising your hand to her mouth so she could kiss your ring finger. "Ready?"

"Yes, come on, let's do it!" You urge her excitedly, unable to contain yourself.

"Vale, vale." Alexia laughs. "I count down from tres, sí?" You nod, a nervous smile on your face. "Tres... dos... uno."

Both of you dig your forks into the cake, cutting a chunk out to reveal that it's-

"¡Chiquitita!" Alexia shouts, jumping up from her chair. You grin at the news and at her reaction, but rather than reacting like Alexia, you simply eat the forkful of cake. "Bebíta, why are you not excited? We are having a baby girl!"

"I am excited, but I have cake in front of me, I'm not gonna just let it sit there." You say, to which she laughs and comes over to wrap her arms around your neck from behind. "A little girl, hey?"

"Sí, una niña pequeña." Alexia sighs happily, tears in her eyes as she rested her forehead on your shoulder. "I can't believe it. It feels a bit more real now."

"It was very real for me when I was throwing up every morning." You scoff, Alexia laughing again. "I get what you mean though. It feels different now that we know it's a girl. She."

Alexia hums in agreement, smiling when you offer her a forkful of cake. She accepts it and nods approvingly at it, making you grin again.

"What is that thing people say? When they have a baby and they want it to be a footballer? I think it is... project Putellas."

"Well, if she wants to be a footballer, she literally has the best person in the world to learn from." You tease, raising your free hand that wasn't devouring the small cake to rest on her forearm. "You just might want to start off by differentiating between an actual football and the shiny gold ones on display in the lounge. I have no doubt a small and excitable toddler who has a Mami kicking football around the house all day will find a golden ball very fascinating."

"I will make sure. But she can kick them all she wants, I will just get my revenge when she wins one in the future." Alexia grins, making you giggle as you squeeze her arm. "If she doesn't like football, I will only be upset for a tiny bit of time. I would just want her to be happy of course."

"She'd still go to every one of your games and would want to go with you when you aren't playing. Just like you and your Papi." You remind her gently, to which she smiles a little sadder this time, but nevertheless hums in acknowledgement.

"Ah... she. I cannot believe it." Alexia slides one hand down to rest on your ever-growning yet still small stomach. There was a bump, but in the majority of your clothes it wasn't quite visible yet.

"Now we have to start thinking of names." You say, finally turning your attention away from the cake and spinning around in the chair to face her. She groans and pulls you to stand up, then taps the back of your thighs to urge you to jump into her arms, to which you do. "What's up with you?"

"Names is the hardest part." She grumbles, leading you to the bedroom where she places you down gently on the bed before cuddling up next to you.

"Well, get thinking, guapa. We have a little girl on the way!"

At the 24 week mark, you both decide it's time to announce it to the rest of the world. It's been amazing having it be a secret purely between you and the people you love most, but your bump is getting a bit more noticeable now and you want to be able to go out without covering up so much.

Alexia posted a simple picture to her social media of the baby's cot in the nursery, along with a tiny Barcelona shirt in it of course, and tied it off with the most recent ultrasound photos set beside the jersey. She wasn't one for sharing much of her private life, so that's all she gave. No date, no gender, no confirmation of how far along you were, and to some people it wasn't even clear if it was you or Alexia who was pregnant. The media's reaction was funny to sit back and watch as you lay in bed together that night, and it made to be even more entertaining when Alexia told you she had been lightly scolded by the club for the lack of context, but her argument was that people should know she wouldn't be playing if she was pregnant. This social media speculation was followed by a post from Barcelona making it clear that Alexia wasn't pregnant, putting all the rumours to bed at the expense of the Barca PR management who had possibly grown a few more grey hairs after the whole fiasco. But it was funny to watch and it made for a great memory, you wouldn't have it any other way.

Now, the baby has started moving more, so much so that Alexia can feel it when she holds her hands against your bump. From the moment you first told her you could feel the baby moving, she had desperately wanted to feel it too. There was a worry in the back of her mind that she wouldn't bond with her baby like a second parent figure should, considering she wasn't the one carrying. Even though the baby would genetically be hers due to the type of IVF you chose, you would bond with the baby on a whole other level that she wouldn't experience.

So, she was desperate to feel the baby move against her hand because it would be her first chance of physically experiencing the baby, unlike you who had been through that from the early days of pregnancy with the typical early-stage symptoms. When she did, when she felt the first tiny but powerful kick against her, she immediately began to cry. She didn't really clue you in on why she had such an intense reaction, not that you discredited it of course, but you had an inkling that it meant much more to her than she would ever admit.

It was rare for pregnancy to be so smooth-sailing though. As the weeks went on and your baby girl grew bigger and stronger, all whilst the both of you remained healthy, it was like the doubtful and anxious thoughts slowly left. Until you noticed something.

You were sat at dinner with your friends before all of you were due to watch Alexia and the team play a Copa del Reina game at the Johan. You were taking a backseat from the conversation for a few minutes when a frightening realisation hit you. You frowned, holding your hands against various places on your bump, looking for a major sign that you hadn't felt in... how long? You couldn't even remember. And that was when it felt like your heart stopped.

"Chica, ¿estás bien?" Your friend asked quietly from beside you, thankfully nobody else taking notice.

"Yeah. I... I don't know." You answered shakily, hands unmoving from your stomach as you closed your eyes tight to concentrate.

"¿Es el bebé? ¿Qué ocurre?" She questioned in hushed tone.

"I... I can't feel her move." You mumbled, trying to suppress the tears already brewing. "I... she's normally moving all the time. But I haven't felt her move... at all today."

"Vale, vale. You want to go to the bathroom, somewhere private?" She suggested, to which you nodded desperately. "Okay. Let's go."

You both stand up, you still in your panicked daze as she comes up with a reason for you both to be excused, before quickly leading you to the individual bathroom at the back of the restaurant.

"I'm scared." You admitted to her, hands still firmly planted on your lower stomach where the baby normally would kick.

"It's okay, tell me what's wrong, yeah?" Your friend said, her hands on your shoulders to try and keep you grounded.

"I was just sat there and then, then I realised my baby hasn't, I haven't felt her move for a while. And now I can't remember the last time she moved. I was really tired yesterday and normally before I go to sleep she starts kicking a lot, but I don't think she did it last night because I fell asleep really quickly when her kicking usually keeps me up for a while and now-"

"Ay, calm down, chica. Take some breaths, do it with me, you need to calm down." You nodded and began to do as instructed, easing your breathing but not your anxiety. "What would you like to do? Don't feel like a burden, this is your baby you're talking about and if you are worried about her health then you must do whatever you feel you need to do to ensure she's safe."

"I... I need to talk to Ale. But she has an important game, I-"

"Alexia would want you to tell her. Forget her work, this is family. This is her little girl too, she would never play football again if it meant you and your baby were safe. Wouldn't she?" You nodded reluctantly, the tears now falling uncontrollably. "Sí. Will she be at the stadium yet?"

"Um..." You got your phone out to check the time, seeing a text from the woman mentioned who confirmed she was at the stadium without you even asking. "Yes, she's there."

"Okay, chica, I could drive you to the nurse now and you call her in the car, or I drive you to the stadium so you can be with her. Whatever you prefer, sí? Anything."

You forgot the rest of the world around you outside this one bathroom, possible solutions and outcomes passing by so quickly and convoluted it was almost impossible to land on one. Was it serious enough to pull Alexia out of a game? Were you just overthinking? Or could this be a genuine problem with the baby?

Ultimately, this was not a risk you could take.

"I need Ale. I need to talk to her." You decided, focusing on your breathing again to try and quell the nausea your anxiety was causing.

"Okay, I will drive you to the stadium. You take the keys and go straight to my car, I will tell everybody else that the plans are cancelled."

From that moment on, it's like your mind goes into shock. Everything is a distant blur, even the feeling of Alexia's arms wrapped tightly around you and Eli and Alba's hands on your back when you meet them at the stadium. You give a stuttered explanation to them, which makes Alexia's heart drop and she squeezes you tighter. She whispers words of comfort and reassurance of course, but if someone held a gun to your head and forced you to recount what she said, you'd be screwed. For all you knew, she could have said anything in the world, and you'd have no idea.

Eli and Alba drove you to the hospital whilst you and Alexia sit in the backseat, no words exchanged (or at least that's what you remember). The cityscape passed by fast as you stared blankly out the window, the moment feeling so surreal it felt as if you were living a nightmare. Your hand clutched tightly onto Alexia's, the only feeling that kept you in touch with reality as every memory you have so far of your unborn child played out in your head like a montage straight out of a film.

Images of you and Alexia in the bathroom with the test strip, you both at the blood test finding out you were 100% pregnant, having the first scan, telling your loved ones, finding out it was a little girl-

She doesn't even have a name.

She can't slip away without a name. That's unfair.

She cannot be taken away from you before you have even met her. Is the world that cruel?

"Amor, we are here." Alexia's hand leaves yours to brush away a few tears you hadn't even realised were falling. "How do you feel?"

"How... how am I supposed to feel?" You reply, almost in a whimper, and Alexia immediately understands what you mean.

"I know." Is all she says, unbuckling your belt for you.

"We will wait here." Alba smiles reasurringly at you, squeezing your knee then Alexia's.

"No hay mal que por bien no venga." Eli states, and that ignites a tiny spark of hope inside of you. (Every cloud has a silver lining.)

Hand in hand, you and Alexia walk into the Maternity ward and explain the situation to the receptionist who tells you again and again that the right thing to do was come in for a check-up. Alexia guides you over to some seats, her eyes constantly searching over your face as her arm wraps around your shoulders.

"I love you." Alexia whispers the only words she can think of right now, because what else is there to say?

She kisses your forehead before letting you tuck your face into her neck, and that's how you stayed the whole time waiting. Just in each other's arms, knowing that you had each other no matter the result of the day. The rest of the world went away; the confines of the hospital, the endless electrical sounds of machines and technological devices, people walking back and forth down the corridors, the sound of doors opening and closing, everything slithered away until it was just the two of you. No thoughts about anything else - football, family, media - solely just the two of you in this white sterile room, waiting on news that would shatter your world or paint it gold.

When your name was finally called, some unknown amount of time later, you shared a glance with Alexia, both of you holding an elixir of emotion in your eyes, before following the midwife to a patient room.

Again, you explained the situation to her whilst Alexia sat on a chair in the corner of the small room, the taller woman fidgeting anxiously as she can't be beside you to hold your hand. The midwife explained that she would do a number of tests on you first to ensure you are healthy, before doing an ultrasound for the baby.

Alexia watches with tears in her eyes as your tests are done, feeling somewhat relieved to hear there is nothing wrong with your health. Though her dread increases tenfold when the midwife brings out the ultrasound, and due to it not being a purpose-built ultrasound room, there is no large TV screen for her to see. It's only a small screen for the midwife to view, which makes her feel even more ill if that was possible. She subtly takes a few deep breaths to control herself and the nausea plaguing her whilst the midwife sets up the small machine and spreads the gel on your lower stomach.

The seconds leading up to the probe being pressed against your skin seemed to stretch indefinitely, like the laws of time bent just to purposely suspend the moment more. She held her breath, hands clenching and unclenching on her thighs as her eyes focused on you, her heart poised on the edge of a cliff between joy and utter despair. Every moment of her life so far felt like it had been built up just for this one moment here, like some sick trick of fate, until-

"And there is your baby girl, her little heart beating away happily."

There she was on the sonogram screen, perfectly fine, just getting on with her life like she hadn't caused the single most panic and fear either of you had ever felt, the tiny being causing a whirlwind of emotions before she was even born.

You broke out into deliriously relieved laughter, head thrown back against the bed as tears fell, whilst Alexia put her face in her hands and cried silently.

"Ale, come here." You plead, looking at her broken figure in the corner of the room.

Alexia instantly jumps up from her chair and goes over to you, cradling your face and ushering mumbled and scattered words of affirmation and reassurance. You both break indefinitely more when your baby's heartbeat echoes through the room, almost like her way of announcing herself and saying: 'I'm here to stay!'

The midwife explains that the reason for not feeling her move is because your placenta is positioned at the front of your stomach, meaning little girl is moving against that which subdues the feeling. But, you rest assured, because you both leave the hospital with a new and stronger recording of her heart beat and some updated photos of her. Eli and Alba spot you both heading back to the car with huge, relieved smiles on your faces so they jump out of the car to greet you. You can tell from the way Alexia deflates into her Mother's arms that the day had exhausted her just as much as it had you, and that plants a seed of doubt in your mind.

Alexia notices this as you both sit in the back of the car on the way back to the stadium, a frown forming on her face as she squeezes your hand.

"Why are you sad, amor?" She whispers to make sure only you hear it. You shake your head and look out the window, now a little embarrassed about the whole day. "Tell me, please."

"I just feel ridiculous. I pulled you out of your game for no reason." You mutter, humiliation settling in your chest.

It wasn't just Alexia who you had disrupted, it was her family, your friends, the whole of the Barça team and staff, their fans, and so many other people around the world who had been left disappointed and confused as to why she had suddenly pulled out of the match day squad. You let your anxieties get to you and ruined what was meant to be a good day for you and many other people.

"No. You had every reason to be worried. And I am so relieved you told me so that all three of us could be there for you. It is so important that you did that, no matter if the baby is healthy after all." She raises your hand to her mouth so she could kiss it softly, before placing it on your thigh and covering it with both of hers. "The fact you dropped everything and focused on our daughter is already a sign of an amazing mother. You both are so much more important than any game of football - league game, cup game, champions league final or world cup. I would do anything to make sure you are both safe, and that's what you did. As soon as you noticed something could be wrong, you did everything to keep her safe and find out she is healthy. I could never thank you enough for that."

She squeezes your hand periodically as her wide eyes assisted her in getting her point across - there was layer after layer of love present in them and when she looked at you like that, you could never doubt her.

"I really was worried. For like two weeks straight, she's been moving and wriggling in there constantly. And then all of a sudden she stops, I didn't feel a thing. Not even hiccups. It was terrifying." You say shyly, Alexia nodding in understanding. She goes to say something, but stops herself when Eli starts.

"Trust me, chiqui, I am proud of you. Ale is right, you are already displaying amazing habits of a good madre. You did the right thing and we are all so proud of you and happy that you spoke up about it. We would do anything if it meant my hija en lay y nieta pequeña were safe and healthy."

Is there any higher praise than that from a great mother already? That meant the world to hear from Eli. It almost entirely dissipated the regret you felt. You did the right thing.

"Mami is right. You are part of this family now." Alba adds, Alexia gazing at you proudly.

"Grácies, us estimo a tots." You reply confidently in Catalan, hoping it conveyed how grateful you were for them all.

Unbeknownst to you, that day plagued Alexia for almost two weeks. She thought about it every night before she went to sleep even when you were in her arms, she thought about it during training, when she stepped on the pitch, but she suppressed it. You had so much to focus on and worry about, you were growing a human for heaven's sake, she had to be strong for you and show that you can rely on her when you need it.

But, that all came falling down one night.

She had one bad game, missed one penalty, and it destroyed the demeanor she'd worked so hard on building. They didn't even lose the game, they drew 1-1 with the chance of bettering themselves for the second leg a week later, but no words could be said to make her feel any better.

The moment the final whistle blew, her face remained stoic and free of emotion. It remained that way in the changing rooms, when she met you and her family after the game, on the drive home, and all through her nightly routine. It killed you to see her like this, knowing in her mind she was reducing herself to something so miniscule and inadequate, you had to at least try and get through to her.

"Ale?" You whisper as you lay beside her on your side. She's in the same position but facing away from you, and you know it's another attempt at keeping the world locked out of her mind. "Alexia, talk to me. What do you need?"

"Estoy bien, vete a dormir." Alexia mumbles, lightly squeezing your hand that rested on her waist.

"No. Look at me, Ale." You demand gently, pulling on her hip so that she lays flat. She averts her eyes away from you, but you notice that they are bloodshot red, like she'd been silently fighting off tears. "What's going on in that mind of yours?"

"I... uh, maybe... maybe a lot." She chokes out, resting her forearm over her eyes, her final attempt at fighting this losing battle on her own.

"Let me in." You urge her, taking her wrist and moving her arm away. "Come on. Tell me what's wrong."

"There... there is too much." Alexia says, almost in a whimper. "There is so much happening in my head."

"We can try and unpack it, hey? You're not going to be able sleep like this, you never do, so let's try and sort through some of your worries." You sit up against the head board and move her so that her head rests on your thigh. You recognise that she needs a few moments to collect herself, so you let her do that, silently combing a hand through her hair until she was ready.

"Well, first, I played like shit." She chuckles in spite of herself, making you smile sadly and lean down, despite the awkward angle and your bump, to place a kiss on her temple. "But... I can't change that now. That... it caused me to feel like this, but I'm not really thinking about that anymore."

"What are you thinking about, my love?"

"I... the baby." She sighs, bringing a hand up to her face as she turned to hide in your leg.

"What about her?" You probe carefully, your free hand subconsciously falling to your bump.

"We thought... we thought we lost her."

That statement breaks her, her first time saying it out loud, and now her body shakes as broken sobs rip through her.

"I know, Ale, I know." You shift back down the bed so that you can hold her. She tucks her face into the space between your neck and shoulder as her tears wet the pillow. The arm of yours she wasn't laying on wrapped around her, holding her tight against you, turning to place kisses under her ear. "She's okay, we saw her and heard her, she's healthy. In fact, I can feel her wiggling around in there. Here, give me your hand." She leans back so that she can see you place her hand over where the baby was moving at the side of your stomach. You pause for a few moments, Alexia waiting with bated breath, desperate to feel her daughter once more. "Oh, there she goes!" You smile brightly as a hard kick hits against Alexia's hand, who laughs breathlessly at it. "See? She's alright, isn't she? If you listen closely, you can hear her saying 'Mírame, Mami, I'm okay! Don't cry!'"

Alexia laughs again, though it sounds more like a choked sob, and buries her face back into your neck.

"You..." Alexia breathes out, smiling again when she feels another kick. "You are both perfect."

"Mm, I think you're pretty great too." You tease, nuzzling your cheek against her hair. "Is there anything else you're worried about?"

"Y-yeah." She mutters, her thumb stroking over your skin. "There's just so many worries I have. Not about her, not really, but... what if I'm not good enough?"

You'd be lying if you said you weren't shocked to hear that. And it breaks your heart.

"Ale, look at me." You place a hand on her cheek when she moves away to meet your eyes. "Why do you think you won't be good enough?"

"I can be a mess. I get frustrated easily and I have no idea how to care for myself, how can I care for a tiny, innocent baby?" She spits the words out like she's disgusted at herself and it's almost unbearable to hear.

"Alexia, you are being unfair to yourself." You state, hearing her sigh frustratedly. "I can be a mess too, I get angry too, you're only human, Alexia. You know how to take care of me, you do it so well, no one has ever treated me better than you do. You have so much love to give and I cannot wait to see you become a parent. I wouldn't want to have children with you if I didn't think you were good enough. In fact, I think you're going to be an amazing parent. Every step along the way already, through my pregnancy and the process of getting pregnant, even before that, I knew you were going to be great. And that belief only grows stronger whenever I see you with other children, like Mateo or my friends' kids. I don't have a single doubt about you, not one."

"But what if I don't bond with her?"

"Love." You sigh, holding a firm kiss against her forehead. "You will. I know I'm the one carrying her, but she's your baby just as much as mine. She's got all your genetics, of course you're going to bond with her." You poke her in the side teasingly, pulling a half-hearted chuckle from her. "I know she will adore you so much. She'd be crazy not to. You do realise you're gonna be the cool parent out of us two?"

"What?" She asks humourously.

"You're definitely the cooler parent out of us, think about it! Imagine her seeing you play football on TV every week, people with your name on their shirts, whole stadiums chanting your name, trophies and medals all around the house, she's gonna go to school and be like 'My Mami is famous!'" You grin whilst speaking, delighted to her Alexia laugh like she normally does.

"Stoooop." She groans, but you know it's in good nature. Another sigh leaves her lips, but this time it's a little less heavy and a bit more content. "You will be cool too."

"Thanks." You laugh and from that you feel her smile into your skin. "Do you feel a little better, cariño?"

"Sí. You are magic." Alexia responds, her head a lot less clouded. Now, it's filled with pictures of her little family of three, and it cheers her up more than anything ever has. "I love you. Thank you for... for everything, amor. Seriously."

You roll back onto your side, Alexia doing the same, and your hand falls to her neck. Your foreheads rest against each other, Alexia's hand still lingering on your bump, and you smile at the lighter look in her eyes.

"You don't have to be strong all the time. You can let go- you need to let go sometimes." You remind her, and when she goes to reply to that, you speak before she can as you know what she's going to argue. "Ah, no, I'm not hearing it, I know what you were going to say. And it's not true, it's not fair on you. I'm your partner after all, Ale. Yes, I'm carrying a baby, but that doesn't lessen any of your problems. I will always have time for you, Alexia, whatever you need, whenever you need it."

Alexia finally backs down and allows your words to mend the cracks in her mind, getting rid of that doubtful devil on her shoulder.

"Thank you. Just... thank you." Alexia mutters, seemingly allowing her post-match exhaustion to overpower her.

"Anytime, I promise. Now get some sleep, alright? You've kept me awake past my bedtime, even little one has stopped her night-time kicking now." You joke, glad to see she mirrors the smile you have and her body relaxes, the tension from the match and the past weeks finally leaving her. "Te amo. Siempre."

By the time June came around, Barça had basically wrapped up every single competition, it being yet another clean sweep for the record-breaking team. That included the Champions League, to which you had to almost force Alexia to go out and celebrate with her team, your argument being that it would be the last chance she got before her life was filled with baby bottles and diapers instead of shot glasses and night clubs.

It was fortunate that the team had done what they did when they did, because it was like once the clock struck midnight of the month of June, your baby girl had decided she'd had enough of her comfy little home and wanted to see what the real world was like. One minute, you were using the bathroom in the middle of the evening at home, the next minute you were in a patient gown on a hospital bed clutching Alexia's arm with one hand and some gas and air with the other.

There were thirteen hours between your waters breaking and the first cry of your daughter. Alexia had tears in her eyes the moment you stepped into the hospital room, but that was nothing compared to the tears that fell like a waterfall when your baby was placed on your chest. She rested her temple against yours and gazed down at the tiny being that you both had created. In her mind, she knew there was no better sight.

Once the initial check-ups were done for both you and your daughter, the business calmed down and it allowed for Alexia to hold her for the first time. Your little girl weighed a mere 6 pounds 11 ounces, but those numbers didn't do it justice - she looked miniscule in the arms of Alexia.

"Hi." Alexia croaked out in a tearful voice, making sure her arms were steady and that her little girl was positioned correctly. Yet to have her first sleep, the baby's brown eyes stared widely up at her Mami.

"Suits you." You commented tiredly, thoroughly exhausted but there was no way you could rest right now when this sight was beside you. You wouldn't miss it for the world.

"Bon día, A-" Alexia glances up at you briefly. "Are we still choosing that name? I think it's perfect for her."

"Yes. So perfect." You smile at your two favourite people.

"Bon día, little Anaís." Alexia whispers, using the back of her index finger to run it ever-so-gently along her daughter's cheek.

It's such a sacred moment for Alexia, like it would be for any parent, as she cradles her new little bundle of joy against her chest. Being able to put a face to the name you'd chosen a few months ago now, putting a face to the offender of the brutal blows her Mummy had been subjected to for two months, and finally bonding with her child - it was all overwhelming in the best way possible.

The weight of her daughter in her arms brought a greater comfort than anything in her life. Every tiny feature, from the delicate curve of her little button nose to the hands that fidgeted delicately against Alexia's chest, is a glorious sight to behold. Alexia feels her heart grow impossibly bigger as she traces the outline of Anaís' face with trembling fingertips, already trying to commit every detail to her memory.

You watch along in silent awe, your eyes glistening with unshed tears at the sight you'd been desperate to see for so long. There is so much admiration and wonder in Alexia's eyes, and you felt your love for the two humans in front of you reach limits you never thought it could.

"Come here." You say, shuffling over to one side of the bed and patting the free space now available. Alexia nods, eyes unmoving from the baby in her arms, and moves slowly and carefully to lay next to you. "Oh, look at her, Ale."

"You did amazing, amor. So strong and so incredible. Look what you did." Alexia praises you and kisses your forehead for what must be the thousandth time that day. You smile and lean your head to rest on her shoulder, one of your hands coming to rest on the back of Anaís' head. "Our little chiqui. Dios mío, she is so small."

"I can't believe those tiny feet almost broke my ribs." You say, giggling along with Alexia as she laughs too and holds both of Anaís' feet in the palm of her hand.

"I love her already." Alexia states, able to stroke one thumb over both of her feet.

"Me too." You hum, adjusting the small knitted hat that covered her head. "She has your eyes."

"Mm, those are definitely Putellas eyes." Alexia grins, gasping quietly when Anaís' tiny fist curls around her pinky finger. "Amor, mirar."

"I see." You watch the interaction in awe, feeling so blessed in this moment. "I told you she would adore you. She's so at peace with you."

Alexia smiled tearfully in reply as Anaís' eyes slowly fluttered shut in her arms.

"I adore her too." Alexia whispers, then she turns to look at you. "Thank you for giving me the greatest gift of all. I'm so proud of you. So so proud."

You smile bashfully at her words and turn to hide your face in her shoulder, stifling a yawn. The exhaustion was really hitting you now, but who in their right mind would pass up a moment like this?

"Thank you for being the best partner I could ask for. I wouldn't have gotten through it without you." You mumble into her jumper, wrapping a hand around her upper arm and settling down more.

"We must dress her in the Barcelona onesie when we take her home." Alexia states with a smug smirk, causing you to laugh and shake your head a little.

"There's no point even arguing, is there?" You say, giggling when she hums a polite no. "Fine, I'll allow it."

"We have to teach her early, amor." Alexia argues.

"Of course we do." You say sarcastically, a yawn slipping out of you.

"You can rest now. I will take the first shift, hm? You sleep as much as you can." Alexia suggests, glad to see you nod. "Want me to stay here?" You nod once more, and a content smile settles on her face. "I love you, rest well."

It takes a little while for you to fall asleep, not able to get fully comfortable as you harbour a lot of pain and achiness, but you eventually do and it warms Alexia's heart to see. Anaís had fallen asleep too, taking her first ever nap in her Mami's arms, and Alexia doesn't think she's ever felt such peace.

She takes the opportunity to photograph the occasion with a selfie of the three of you, before sending it to various people: Eli and Alba, your family, your closest friends, and lastly her teammates who were currently at training. They must have all seen it at the same time as her phone immediately started blowing up at the influx of overjoyed messages. Each one is filled with so much love and delight for you both, and that paired with the messages from Eli and Alba cause her to tear up once again. She wasn't sure how she had any tears left to be honest, it had been an emotional day and it seemed like it wasn't ending anytime soon.

The next day, after getting the all-clear, you were allowed to take Anaís home for the first time. Eli and Alba had been there waiting, making sure the house was tidy and cosy so that you and your little family could live as stress-free as possible (if that was a thing with a newborn) whilst you adjusted to your new way of life.

You settled on the sofa beside Alexia's mother as the now-abuela held her granddaughter for the first time. The look on Alexia's face as she placed a sleeping Anaís in her arms was one you'd never forget. It was priceless, there was so much pride present in her eyes and you were so glad for her sake that Alba was filming the moment. Next, it was Alba's turn to hold her, who also shed a few tears when she held onto Anaís for the first time, joking that she was glad she put no makeup on otherwise her mascara would stain the soft white blanket wrapped around the baby. Unexpectedly, as Alba cradled your daughter and conversed quietly with Alexia, Eli shuffled closer to you and hugged you tenderly, whispering the sweetest words you'd ever heard from her into your ear. There were so many core memories being created at once it was near impossible to keep up with everything, but you realised in a quiet moment in the middle of it all that you had finally achieved the life you wanted. This was it; you'd done it.

You stayed in your social media free bubble for a week, until you and Alexia decided it was time to confirm what everyone thought anyway. It was the same day that Barça had their penultimate Liga F game, the first game for the club since Anaís was born. As there would only be more speculation when Alexia wouldn't be named in the match day squad, both of you and the club decided today would be the best day to do it. When you were pregnant, you made an agreement that Alexia would continue playing until the baby was born, where she would take however long she wanted off to be with you and your daughter. And in the end, that agreement worked out perfectly.

So, Alexia posted yet another simple photo to her social pages, this time a selfie of her exhausted smile and the back of Anaís' head as she slept on her chest, the little girl of course adorning the Barça jersey featured in the initial pregnancy announcement photo. She did caption it this time, writing 'Nueva mascota del Barça' meaning Barcelona's new mascot, followed by two red and blue love hearts. You smiled when you saw the online reaction, sitting and scrolling through it whilst you fed Anaís and Alexia napped on the sofa beside you.

Throughout the week that followed, you both thought it was time to allow people outside your immediate family to visit. That meant that almost everyday there were new guests over. The most excitable one was of course Mapi, it was hard to keep her calm and quiet enough to let her hold Anaís but once the baby was in her arms, she immediately fell silent as she simply admired her. You, Alexia, and Ingrid all shared shocked looks at the scene in front of you.

"Buena, Ingrid, there is your solution to her constant talking." Alexia joked with a grin, making Ingrid roll her eyes.

However, Mapi's reply caught everybody off guard.

"Sí, elskling, we will talk about it later."

You had to hold back the laugh that threatened to burst out when Ingrid and Alexia's eyes widened so much that they almost popped out of their head. It would only be a matter of time before those two had children anyway, you secretly knew it. Anytime one of their friends announced they were having children, you could see the desire for the same thing in their eyes grow everytime. Whether they both knew they felt the same or not, you definitely could picture it in their near future.

Alexia missed the final game of the season too of course, but with it being a home game at the Johan, you urged her to go and watch it so that she could be part of the post-game presentations and celebrations. She was reluctant to do so, she hadn't really left your side for long since before you gave birth, but the smile on her face as she got ready to leave let you know you'd made the right decision.

"Say bye-bye to your chiqui." You say quietly, presenting a sleeping Anaís to Alexia where she was waiting to say goodbye at the front door. She smiles brightly and wraps an arm around you, looking down at your daughter's face that seemed to change everyday.

"Adiós mi niña, volveré pronto." Alexia whispers, leaning down to press a very light kiss to her forehead. "And you, I will be back as soon as I can."

"I'll be okay, Ale." You giggle, Alexia grinning and hugging you into her side. "Enjoy it. Promise me you'll make the most of it?"

"Eh, I will, but I don't want to be out too long." She shrugs a shoulder, leaning down to kiss you softly.

"Why not?" You wonder with a frown, and from that Alexia can spot the speckles of insecurity in your eyes.

"Because I just want to be with you and Anaís. I'm not worried about leaving you with her, not at all, but there's nothing better than being with you both at home. I love it." Alexia admits, washing away any doubts you had and replacing them with the most adorable confession. "It's true. I will be gone for only a few hours but I will miss you both so much."

You gaze up at her, your heart so full, and lean up to peck her lips softly.

"We will miss you too." You tell her, watching on adoringly as Alexia raises a hand and gently takes hold of one Anaís' tiny hands. The difference in size is so big that it's absolutely adorable, making you smile and lean your head into Alexia's neck.

"Mi familia perfecta." Alexia murmurs, stroking her thumb over Anaís tiny fingers and kissing your forehead. "I don't want to leave."

"We'll be right here when you get back. Go celebrate you and your team, it was another amazing season and they'll want to catch up with you. We've kept you locked up here long enough." You joke, Alexia smiling and shaking her head.

"They won't want to know about me, I will just get a million questions about you and Anaís."

"We both know you'd happily sit there for hours talking about me and Anaís, it's all you do." You catch her out, but she just shrugs and smirks.

"Why would I want to talk about anything else?" She says smugly, but she means it genuinely. You are the best things in her life. "But fine. I guess I will go. If anything happens, please ring me immediately?"

"Yes, Ale." You roll your eyes and kiss her quickly once more. "Now go. Alba will be here any minute, I'll be okay."

"I know you'll be okay. Love you." Alexia smiles, opening the door but lingering in the doorway as she stares at you lovingly.

"I love you too. You look beautiful." You tell her, smiling humourously when a light blush covers her cheeks.

"This is what I look like when I can shower and I'm not covered in baby sick, if you remember." She winks.

"I remember it very well." You smirk, stifling a laugh when she grins knowingly. "Now go, you'll be late."

She puts on a very dramatic sad frown and steps out of the house backwards, turning around just as Alba pulls up and presses her horn.

"Alba! Anaís is sleeping, are you stupid?" Alexia snaps quietly at her sister who jumps out of her car with a grin.

"She's still asleep, stop stalling and go." You tease, ushering her away with one hand as Alba skips over and completely disregards Alexia in search of you and Anaís.

"Where is my favourite sister with my favourite baby?" She grins, shoving past her actual sister and walking straight over to you.

"Nice to see you too, Alba." Alexia grumbles, though there is a tiny hint of a smile on her face as she watches you three.

"Have fun at your game, Tata." Alba waves behind her dismissively and embraces you carefully, kissing your cheek before turning to Anaís. "Hola, belleza. Oh, she is so cute."

"Alexia, you're gonna be late." You laugh as she comes over to join you, standing behind you and Alba and wrapping an arm each around your shoulders.

"But this is so much better." She groans. "I have been to plenty trophy celebrations, what is one more?"

"That's so humble of you, Ale." You scoff jokingly, grinning at the disapproving look on her face and kissing her cheek.

"Mami will be mad if you stand her up, Tata. Now go. Angry Mami is scarier than you when you are angry."

That seems to shift Alexia into gear as she begrudgingly pulls herself away from the mini group hug and walks with a childish pout on her face back to the door. You wave at her as she walks out and she blows a quick kiss at you before closing the door gently behind her.

Alba kindly offers to look after Anaís so that you can take a relaxing bath before the match kicks off, and afterwards you feel ten times more refreshed and calm. When you're finished, you join her on the sofa and chat with her whilst Anaís sleeps peacefully in the space between you both. You feel completely content there, catching up with Alba whilst your baby snoozes away and Barcelona score what seems like goal after goal. Every so often, the broadcast will show Alexia sat in the stands and you have an inkling that she's overcome with the same feeling you have as she sits there calmly with a hint of a smile on her face instead of the stormy and stoic look she normally wears whilst watching a game.

Once the match ends, the players celebrate on the pitch for a little whilst the ceremony gets prepared. Various awards from the season are given out, Alexia receiving a few as expected, but what you don't expect is the large hamper of baby supplies and other things such as clothes or sweets treats that is handed to her. She laughs at it and holds it up in front of the camera for a photo, but underneath the mask for the camera you can see the pride in her eyes and the utter joy on her face at the acknowledgement given to her.

"Did you know about that?" You ask Alba, who grins slyly at you.

"It was Mapi and Jana's idea." She tells you.

It's a wonderful surprise nonetheless, and from the quick glance you get at it, it looks like it contains genuinely useful stuff along with some treats that you'll devour once Alexia brings it back home.

Shortly after that, the trophy ceremony commences and you beam as Alexia collects her medal before picking up the trophy and taking it over to her teammates. You'd seen her do this multiple times, and of course she obviously seemed overjoyed each time, but as you watch this particular celebration, there's a new, unrefined look on her face, almost like she's letting her happiness consume her instead of dimming it a little to keep her persona.

When she comes home later, an endless amount of gift bags in her arms, she frowns at the unexpected silence of her home. She thought she would walk into the sounds of you and Alba laughing and chattering away like you often did together, so the stillness of the house comes as a surprise. Dropping all her bags off in the kitchen, she wanders into the lounge that was lit up by one lamp in the corner of the room. She squints a little, her eyes adjusting to the darkness, and spots you lay on the sofa with a blanket over you as you sleep.

"Hola Tata." Alba smiles at the sight of her sister in the doorway of the living room. "She fell asleep after the broadcast ended, so I took Anaís to her nursery and stayed in there so she could rest."

"Is she okay?" Alexia asks, concerned, happily accepting a restless Anaís when Alba offers her.

"Sí, sí, she is fine. Just tired. I think chiqui needs feeding, I changed her diaper but she is still a bit unsettled." Alexia nods in agreement and grabs a fresh bottle from the steriliser. "Would you like me to do anything? I have dinner with friends later so I will need to leave soon."

"No, it's okay, Tati. Thank you for coming over today and keeping them company."

Alba watches on in astonishment as Alexia expertly prepares a bottle of formula for Anaís with only one hand.

"Of course. It was so fun spending time with your girls." Alba states, pausing for a moment before walking over to her older sister and hugging her tightly from behind whilst being mindful of her niece.

"¿Tas bien?" Alexia frowns, leaning her head against Alba's when the younger woman rests her chin on her shoulder.

"Sí, simplemente estoy orgulloso de ti." Alba tells her, Alexia chuckling shyly. (Yes, I'm just proud of you.)

"Grácies, Tati." She mumbles, smiling down at Anaís when she mewls quietly.

"I was going through some old photos before and I realised that this little chiqui looks just like we did when we were babies." Alba reveals, lightly tracing her finger over the curve of Anaís nose.

"Really? You have to send me them." Alexia says as the timer goes off, telling her that the bottle was ready. "Put your hand out." Alba does as she says and laughs quietly when Alexia tips a few drops of the milk onto her hand. "Too hot? Too cold?"

"Just right, I think." Alba shrugs, unattaching herself from Alexia. The older woman presses the lukewarm bottle to Anaís' lips, a tiny proud smile growing when she immediately settles and starts drinking. Alba can't help but be fascinated again. "I can't believe you're a Mami now."

"Me too." Alexia mumbles, eyes unmoving from her daughter who seems much more content now that she's being fed. She glances up at Alba, a little confused when she sees her eyes have turned glossy. "Tati?"

"Papa would be so proud." Alba blurts out, a down-turned smile on her face due to the array of emotions overcoming her.

"Alba." Alexia smiles sadly, finding herself beginning to react exactly the same as her sister. Her eyes glimmer in the light of the room when she looks back down at the little girl in her arms. "I wish he could meet her."

Alba sniffles and walks back over to Alexia, slinging an arm around her shoulder and kissing her cheek.

"He would have been an amazing abuelo, right?"

"Sí." Alexia whispers breathlessly, looking up at the lights for a moment to blink away her tears. "Go to your dinner, Tati, stop making me cry."

"Vale, I'm going." Alba laughs, giving her another cheek kiss and squeezing her side tightly before stepping away. "Te veo pronto."

"Buenas noches, disfruta tu velada." Alexia follows her to the hallway and watches her leave, smiling brightly as she steps out of her house and closes the door.

That smile stays on her face as she walks silently back to where you slept in the lounge, then sits down carefully next to where your head lay as Anaís carries on feeding. You had your face buried in the couch cushions, a blanket pulled up to your shoulder and your hands tucked under your chin. Alexia sighs contently, maybe a little too loud, as it seems to wake you.

"Ale?" You rasp, leaning your head back a little to glance up at her through one eye.

"Sí amor. You can sleep more if you would like, I have the baby." Alexia whispers. There's a piece of hair that's fallen onto your face that she would swipe out of the way for you if her hands weren't full with a tiny feasting baby.

"When did you come home?" You wonder, rubbing your eyes.

"Not too long ago. Alba left just now."

"Oh god, I can't believe I fell asleep while she was here." You groan, a little embarrassed at the fact you had just abandoned her for sleep and left her with your baby.

"No, it's okay, she was more than happy to look after Anaís. She said she took her up to her nursery and just relaxed in there with her." Alexia tells you as you hide your face back into the sofa pillows. "If you fell asleep, that means you needed it. It's absolutely fine, amor, don't be embarrassed."

You nod and rest there for a few moments, before deciding to sit up and snuggle into Alexia's side. She smiles down at you and kisses your forehead, the pair of you sitting in silence for a little while as Anaís drinks.

"Did you have fun today?" You ask, fiddling absentmindedly with the hem of Alexia's shirt.

"I did, it was very fun. I got a lot of gifts from fans and the staff for Anaís. Also a lot for you, not many for me though." She frowns and you laugh at the sight as well as the disheartened tone to her voice.

"I guess you're just not so popular anymore." You tease, kissing her jaw just as Anaís finished off the bottle. You took it from Alexia's hands and placed it on the floor so that she could burp Anaís, watching on as she carefully positioned her so that she was sat up on her thigh with a hand holding her front to support her and the other gently rubbing up and down her back. "Remember when you thought you wouldn't good enough? You're a pro, Ale."

"Hm. I still worry that sometimes." Alexia admits sheepishly.

"Why?" You wonder quietly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezing once.

"I think it is just a general worry. But you do a great job of telling me otherwise. We don't know much about her personality yet but you and her make being a parent easy." She states softly, glancing down at you with a blissful smile on her face.

Out of all the places she's been, all the things she's seen, everything she's achieved and the once-in-a-lifetime experiences she's lived, these moments right here could never be topped.

"That's very adorable of you to say." You murmur, forever enamoured by how soft and affectionate she can be with her words. "I can't wait to see what she's like when she grows up."

"Me too, but she can't do it too fast." Alexia grumbles, once again making you laugh as you quickly wipe a bit of spit-up away from Anaís' mouth. "Before we know it she will be moving out."

It's said with a dejected sigh, and this time you laugh at Alexia instead of with her.

"You do realise she's not even three weeks old? She's not gonna be packing her bags and leaving next week, Ale." You say with a grin, giggling as a small smile breaks onto Alexia's face despite her trying to stop it. "We have at least eighteen years before we need to worry about that."

"I know, I just don't want it to happen ever."

You hum in agreement, before noticing the slight redness to Alexia's eyes.

"Have you been crying?" You ask her, sitting up a little more so you could look at her properly.

"Only a tiny bit, Alba made me cry before she left." Alexia chuckles lightly.

"What do you mean?"

"Ah, she... she started talking about our Papi and... how proud he would be now that I have you and Anaís." Alexia replies, the same feeling from before taking over her. You smile sadly and wrap an arm around her shoulders, kissing her cheek.

"He really would." You whisper.

It falls quiet again, the only sounds being the tiny burps that Anaís lets out every so often, you and Alexia laughing quietly everytime. She grows tired after a little while, so Alexia cradles her back into her arms and you both watch as she quickly falls asleep in the company of her parents. It's a sight you don't think you could ever get sick of; it's perfect.

"It was nice seeing you so happy today." You say quietly to Alexia, not wanting to wake Anaís up.

"I am always happy, amor." Alexia replies in a confused tone.

"I know, but just seeing you at the game earlier, you seemed a different kind of happy."

"Because I have everything I have ever dreamed of now."

You might not have believed her at first - did she not already have that with all she's accomplished with football? But the way she looks into your eyes as she says it with so much earnest and love and a thousand other emotions swirling in her hazel orbs when she gazes at you, you might just believe her.

And two years later as you bake another cake, this time for Anaís' second birthday, a past memory - which seems incredibly distant now - washes over you. You mention it to Alexia, who's eyes light up instantly, though she doesn't immediately say what's on the tip of her tongue. You manage to coax it out of her, and this time around it's your turn to be completely caught off guard.

"I think we should have another soon."

You look up at her, surprised but completely on board with the idea. You say just that to her and afterwards, it goes quiet again as you stand doing your individual baking jobs with shy, excited smiles on your faces about the prospect of being parents again and growing your family. Anaís was such a happy and easy child, of course you'd have another if the next one turned out to be anything like her. And seeing Alexia with a newborn again? Absolutely.

However, you recognise a pattern in your family decision-making process.

"If we only want two kids though, we should probably stop baking cakes."

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas one shot #woso #woso x reader

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alwaysbewoke · 5 months

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One of the first things that Andre Braugher said to me when he arrived to set for this shoot was that this was his very first solo magazine cover. I thought surely he had to be mistaken, even though he would know his life best lol. I’d been watching Andre on my screen for what felt like my whole life, playing some serious curmudgeon or some police figure. How could he have never been given a solo magazine cover? We talked at great length about this and about how completely ordinary it is for Black artists across all genres to be snubbed and denied such opportunities. However, having been recently nominated for an Emmy for his role on @brooklyn99 , he was having a moment and he was excited. Before the shoot, I went into his dressing room and met @stricola and we talked wardrobe. I was madly in love with this particular sweater that she pulled for the shoot. Andre, not so much, but he was game to try it on. The shoot took place during the summer of 2020, protests over the murder of George Floyd were still globally unfolding. Andre and I disagreed on some things but I really appreciated the vivid, lively conversation. Even with the tensions we had a wonderful time. Lots of jokes, lots of laughter. Andre’s laugh was booming and filled the studio with his gorgeous tenor. At the end of the shoot, he expressed so much gratitude. I was so proud to have been able to celebrate him during such a special moment in his career. He was unbelievably kind and I just wanted to make an iconic image of this under-appreciated gem of a person. When the magazine came out I was told that he really loved the images and that he thought sweater was an excellent choice, iconic being the word he insisted upon. He didn’t win that Emmy, which would have been his third, but I’m happy that he got that moment. I’m still so sad that it took so long. Rest well, Mr. Braugher!

#Andre Braugher #rip

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wonderlandwalker · 4 months

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Living Nightmares | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick wakes up to find you slipping away from him. As he tries to get help, he loses track of you, only to find you in the hands of the careers. The situation seems to get worse before he finally thinks he's at peace, but you're there to remind him to keep going.

Content Warnings/Tags: angst, a whole lot of it, fluff at the end though I'm not a monster, mentions of blood, hypothermia, violence

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: I've been obsessing over our boy Finnick so here's a fic full of angst, because apparently that's the only thing my brain can think of. Dividers by @chilumitos

This wasn’t exactly where they had thought they’d be at the moment. It all started during the second day in the arena, they had the allies, they had the supplies, and they thought they had the advantage, but worry took over as they started losing sight of each other in a chase, and they tried to find the others, only to end up in a new part of the arena. It was dark, cold, and they had lost their supplies, and there was no food or water source nearby.

Neither of them was really to blame. It had been a long day, and the surroundings didn't inspire much hope. So, both of them had fallen asleep on some of the leaves that covered the ground. The cold air was still blowing around them.

But at least he wasn't alone, two sets of minds were better than one, at least he still had you.

The rising sun urged him to open his eyes, and he stretched out his arms, which had become stiff from the cold. It was only when he sat up and ran his hand through the hair that had fallen in your face that he noticed how cold you were. He quickly got up from behind you, pulling you into his lap, tilting your head up a little. Your skin was almost as white as snow, and your lips were starting to turn blue. The colour that once held so many fond memories of the ocean and the sky, now being replaced by fear and panic. He shook you lightly, trying to wake up as if you were just sleeping deeply. When you didn't react, he called out for you, his voice laced with concern.

“Y/n? Come on love, wake up.” But the only movement that came from you was your arm falling from where it was, the harsh thud to the ground reinforcing his fears.

“No, no come on. This isn't happening, wake up” Finnick had thought about this happening, how could he not when it was the basis for most of his nightmares? But he always woke up from those to find you resting in his arms, your soft breathing comforting him back to sleep. This time he didn't wake up, and he didn't hear your breathing to soothe him. He checked your pulse for a heartbeat, but all he could feel was his own heart racing in his chest. He looked around him as if there would be someone there to help, but you were alone.

He started CPR to try and quicken up your pulse, to get you to breathe again, and while he knew you probably couldn't hear him, he had to try.

“Do you remember when you came back from your first games, I really thought that had been the scariest moment of my life. When I survived my own, at least I knew you were alright at home. When you came back, I thought it was over, I wanted to see the positive side, but you seemed so weak, and having watched you, I knew how bad of a state you were in. It tore me apart to have to see it and not be able to do anything." His voice cracks a little, his head starting to swim with more thoughts.

"I won’t do this without you. You can't leave me now, not like this." He pushes a little harder on your chest while doing compression. He's sure if he does so anymore, he will crack one of your ribs.

"I imagined us getting married. I imagined proposing to you by the lake, that little spot you showed me, I know how happy you were in the middle of the field of dandelions. Every worry seemed to slip away from you, like a little hideaway from the horrors of the world. That's how you make me feel every time I'm with you. It's like there is no one in the whole world except us. And I know how cliche that sounds, I know you never liked cliches, but it's true, you are my world, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for you.”

Right as he was about to pour out more of his heart to you, he heard a noise coming from the distance. The steps were too heavy to be coming from a small animal, but his instincts also told him that whoever it was, they weren't there to help.

He knew he had two options. try and fight off whatever was coming while carrying the love of his life with him. Or keep you hidden, try and fight while distracting them away from you and coming back when the coast was clear. He tried his best to hide you underneath a blanket of leaves, making you disappear into the surroundings, he gave you a light kiss on the forehead, scared to get too close and feel how cold your skin still was. He heard the footsteps come closer.

“Just hold on a little longer darling, I’ll be back before you know it.”

And so he turned around, grabbing his trident a little harder than normal, and came face to face with one of the careers. Finnick's muscles were still sore from the night, but he was ready to run. He had to get away from here before the tribute started to wonder if he had been alone.

He ran towards a clearing, making the tribute follow behind him. He ran to a split in the path, which gave him two options, left or right. He heard rustling coming not far behind him, and his instincts told him to go right, so he did. He ran for a while until he reached a dead end, the line of trees becoming so dense he couldn't get through anymore. The tribute was still on his heels, and Finnick had to think fast again. He saw a body of water nearby and decided that diving in, despite the creatures that might be in it, and the chilling temperature it must be, would be better than certain death. He knew he would be able to outswim the career, it luckily being one of his strengths. He started to run towards it, and when he got to the edge, he jumped like his life depended on it, but it still wasn't his life he was worried about, it was yours.

Once he got to the other side of the water, he looked back, and the tribute was nowhere to be seen, probably having decided that the risk of the wild waters wasn't worth it. Finnick wasn't thinking about the relief of escape, all he was thinking about was how much time you had left.

It was by some sort of miracle he found Peeta, Johanna and the others on a small beach nearby, and he practically ran straight into them at full speed without even announcing himself. Once the others had realized it was Finnick, and he was not a danger to them, they calmed down, but the state of despair he was in did alarm them soon after

Peeta looked up at him, he was completely out of breath from how fast he had run.

“Sit down Finnick, try and catch your breath” He told him, while placing an assuring hand on his shoulder.

“There’s no time to sit down, I need to go back.” He spoke with such certainty it startled the others.

“Go back where?”

“ To the clearing, I don't know where it was, but I remember how to get there.”

“Why do you need to go back?” Johanna asked him, seeming confused.

“Because y/n is still there, and she doesn't have long”

The others didn't need to hear more, and started to pack up the things they had with them to follow him.

When they had made it back, Johanna was in front with Finnick, she wouldn't care to admit it out loud, but she was worried about you as well.

“Where?” She asked him

“Over by the cut-down stumps, next to the maple and the oak tree.” Finnick had memorized the entire area in order not to lose track of you, and with Johanna being from the lumber district, he knew this clue would be the most helpful to her.

“There’s no one here” she said, looking back at him frustrated.

“There has to be, she was right there when I left.”

“She might have been, but unless hypothermia comes with the power to turn invisible, she’s gone.”

“Well, she couldn't have left by herself” His mind was reeling with all the possibilities, each one more horrible than the last.

“Well then who took her, there are no drag marks, it wasn't any kind of mutt.”

“I don't know, maybe-” his eyes fell to the mud next to the fallen leaves, the ground here was in permafrost, it couldn't have come from here. When the tribute started chasing him he had already put distance between where you were and where he was going. They must have gone back after he went into the water to try and see if he had any supplies, and have found you. But your body wasn't here, that was a good thing, that means you must be alive, why else would they have taken you?

“They’re at the swamp”

“How are you so sure?”

“The career, he was alone when he chased me, he has to have set up camp somewhere with the others, it can't be far from here otherwise he wouldn't have carried her.”

“Alright, but we don't even know where that is, the swamp must be massive, they could be anywhere, we can’t just run in without a plan.” Johanna tried to reason, looking over to Finnick, only to realise he was no longer there.

“Where did he go?” Peeta asks her.

“Probably to the swamp, probably without a plan.” She sighed, she was annoyed, but couldn't say she was surprised, she knew he would do anything for you, including laying down his own life.

“How do we find him, we don't even know where the swamp is, y/n and Finnick were the only ones who crossed it.”

“You don't happen to have a map, do you?” Johanna asks, sarcasm heavy as usual.

While the others were trying to figure out where exactly Finnick had run off to, he himself ran into some trouble. He knew it was his fault for going in without a plan or any backup, but he had listened to his heart, not his head. His heart convinced him he had to find you, telling him that if he didn't find you and wake you up, he’d never be able to see your eyes looking back into his. His heart was telling him to go and save you, even though his head was telling him it was probably already too late anyway.

He wasn't paying close attention to his surroundings as he should have been, trying with all his might to find you. They had found him when he was distracted and from that moment on they kept trying to break him. He was tied with his back against a tree, most of his body covered in blood and a little dizzy from the loss of it.

“It’s very easy to figure out what makes you tick Odair” the district one tribute spoke to him. He couldn't see very far ahead of him, and he couldn't see you anywhere.

“What’s that supposed to mean” He was confused and angry. Confused about what they meant, why they hadn't killed him. Angry they kept him from finding you, from holding you.

“Don’t worry, you'll find out soon enough.”

And as if it was planned, right after the career had spoken, a loud, soul-cracking scream echoed around him. Finnick immediately recognized it, how could he ever forget? It couldn't be real, it had to be a trick, jabber-jays, something. But there wasn't a flock of birds around, and nothing would be able to replicate such a crushing sound. He tried closing his eyes, but when he did his imagination ran wild with images and scenarios, and it only made it worse. The only thing he could do to calm down was tell himself it wasn't real, even if he didn't believe it, repeating it like a mantra over and over.

“It isn't real, it isn't real, it isn't real.” It was nothing more than a whisper and most probably only a mumble of incoherent words.

“Oh but that's the best part Odair, it is real, and it's not gonna stop until you give us what we want. to know.”

“You’re lying” He spit out, barely able to say the next words without falling apart completely “I saw her die.” A single tear makes its way down his face as he tries to keep his composure, cracking now wouldn't do him or you any good.

“Are you willing to take that risk? She’s pretty feisty, I'll give you that, but if you don't crack soon and tell us where your friends are, she's not gonna make it.

He tried ignoring it, trying to listen to his head instead of his heart, but once again the attempt was futile. All he could hear was the screaming, even when he was sure it had actually stopped, the sound still lived in his head. It was hard to say which was worse, the deafening screams, or the silences in between.

He tried to think with his head, tried to think what you would say to him. It would probably be something along the lines of ‘don’t do anything stupid when I'm not there.’

It was far too late for that.

When the career returned, he had a smile on his face that seemed way too happy for the situation they were in.

“She’s strong, that girl of yours, that much is true. The question is for how much longer, everyone has a point of no return, and I have a feeling she’ll cross it soon, But you can make it stop, tell us where your friends are, and it’ll stop.” The tribute had bent down so he was face to face with him, and by the look in his eyes, he now knew for sure this wasn't a bluff.

Finnick didn't know where they were, they wouldn't have stayed at the beach where he found them or at the clearing where the two of you had slept for the night. And maybe it was for the best he didn't know, because right now if he was honest with himself, he would have told them anything he knew if they wanted it. He would do anything to get to hold you again, to feel the warmth of your body against his, to feel your lips pressed against his own. But the careers weren't stupid, he had no reason to believe they would actually let you go, and even if they did, he knew a part of you would never forgive him for what he would have done.

“This is a waste of time.” He screamed, silently hoping you were close enough and conscious enough to hear his voice, hoping it would be enough to tell you not to give up. He pulled at the ropes tying his hands together with all the strength he had left, knowing it would likely not achieve anything, but hoping for it nonetheless.

But it didn't make a difference, your screams didn't stop, and his heartache didn't stop. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours, up until a point where Finnick couldn't tell how much time had passed. It was difficult to keep track of time when you kept blacking out, but it was peaceful in the most morbid way. He didn't sleep, he lost consciousness, so he didn't dream. When he blacked out he had a moment of peace, a moment where he didn't hear your screams echoing around in his head. But he would always wake up and have to face reality again.

He couldn't hear his heartbeat anymore, he couldn't hear his breathing or his thoughts, all he could hear was the screaming and the cries, even though he wasn't sure if they were there or if his mind kept playing tricks on him. He had always feared this, but he didn't think that his worst nightmares would actually come true.

He looked down and saw a puddle of his blood staining the ground and the leaves he was sitting on. The last thing he heard before he blacked out again was shouting coming from the distance.

When he wakes up he can't see much, his eyes heavy and his body tired. But he can feel his cheeks getting wet, it’s a heavy liquid and he guesses it's his blood until he opens his eyes far enough to see you kneeling in front of him, your hands cupping his cheeks to lift his face while you're silently crying, the tears creating a clear path down the grime on your face.

“y/n?” His voice barely reaches a whisper, but you look up into his eyes immediately.

“Finnick, oh god, please wake up we have to get out of here.” Your voice sounds strained, and Finnick isn't sure if it's because of all the screams that must have taken a toll on you, or if the sounds have damaged his ears, he hopes for your sake it's the latter.

“No we don’t” He says with a sense of peace that doesn't match up with the predicament you're in.

“What do you mean?” You ask him, while trying to remove some of the blood stains from his skin, but failing miserably.

“We’re in heaven, aren't we, that's why you're here, I was hoping I would see you.” A sob from your throat almost interrupts his whispering, and he looks up to you again.

“Why are you covered in so much blood” He reaches out to touch your face ever so gently, as if he's scared you're only a figment of his imagination, and you could disappear anytime.

“It’s nothing, I’m alright, I’m more worried about you, you look like you could open your very own blood bank with how much you’re losing.” Your voice is shaky, and it matches the tremble of your hands.

“No need to worry about that, You're here to bring me to heaven, we’ll be together again, it’ll all be perfect.”

“Finnick listen to me! I’m not here to take you to heaven, I’m real and I'm right here in front of you and I need you to stay awake!”

Only he’s not responding to you anymore, his eyes closed again.

“Goddamnit”

You tried to lift him off the ground, but almost fell over once you got him upright. You weren't in your strongest state, and Finnick not being in any conscious state wasn't helping, his whole body weight leaning on you. You put your arm around his shoulder and put the other around his middle, trying to keep him standing so you could move. But with your hands busy trying to keep Finnick upright, you had no way to defend yourself. All the commotion must have alerted other tributes, but you didn't know how many there were to begin with, or who even started the disturbance that allowed you to break free. You thanked whoever was listening that the two of you made it out of the swamp without running into further trouble, and entered an opening of trees that finally allowed bright sunlight to touch upon your skin. You can hear footsteps close by, and prepare for the worst.

“We need to get the two of you back to the others” A familiar voice enters your ears, and you didn't know you could ever be so grateful to find Beetee.

You make your way to a lake not far away. When you get there, you refuse to leave Finnick’s side when Beetee had insisted you needed tending to as well. It was like an unspoken rule. Whenever one of you was hurt, the other didn't leave their side until you were sure they were going to be okay. But you weren't sure, and you weren't leaving him. So you lay down next to him, and the others knew it was useless to try and separate you.

After some time had passed, Finnick started to softly grunt and woke you up with him. Your face contorted in a mix of anger and pain. You leapt up into his arms. It hurt him a little with how tight you were holding him, but he didn't dare let go. Still a little afraid it wasn't real. But he could feel your breathing against his neck, hear you crying in his ear, and hear your heart beating in your chest, in sync with his, you were here, and you were okay.

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