#insane pre match
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INSANE CHARACTER TOURNAMENT: PRE-MATCH IV
[ID: Background is a gradient of blue, purple, and pink. On top, there's the pictures of the contestants, separated by a “VS” sign. Above it, reads “PRE-MATCH IV” in bold black letters. /End ID.]
#jevil#deltarune#midari ikishima#kakegurui#kakeguri anime#insane character poll#i hope i did the image description well bc you cant edit polls#tumblr bracket#tumblr polls#tumblr tournament#polls#poll#character tournament#insane pre match#insane character poll poll
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hi so I am extremely soft for Sun basically being all-hands-on-deck for assisting Y/N with outfits, Moon wanting Y/N to be comfortable, and Eclipse being all here for nice textures
how would the boys react to Y/N asking them (independently) to help them put together an outfit (something complicated that needs an extra pair of hands with buttons/zips). can be pre/post-reveal depending on desired fluff content - @clxckwork-sun-n-moon
(:
Pre-reveal:
Sun: Flattered beyond compare - them asking means they trust his judgement enough to put their outfit in his hands! For a peacock like him, who's job is reliant on looking the part, that's a big thing. There's also, uh, the thing about having to go up into their room, their private space, to maybe survey what they have? The thought will fluster him enough to fumble, and ask if they have a few things in mind already, and ends up moving the fashion show downstairs. Just take anything that could come in handy to the living room, he can work with that! Would love to take his time and invite them to a shopping trip, but feels like that might just be too much and sticks with what's available. Will however gladly offer to lend things to them - perhaps a specific tie would match better, or a certain set of cufflinks...
Very gentle, but focused while working with buttons and zippers. He takes pride in being asked, so he won't risk damaging anything or hurting them by getting distracted. By the time he's finished the bitter pang of knowing this outfit isn't for him comes back to punch him square in the face, and he's lucky he's always smiling because otherwise it would be hard to keep up. Y/N doesn't miss the way his expression twists, and can't quite make sense of it before he leaves with a quick, but genuine compliment.
Moon: So you have chosen violence. Given that this is reverse coded, you have the shy boy, who is awkward af around the nice landlord already, who has no clue about fashion as his only focus is "dark color scheme and good to move in." He near panics, but agrees to help in any capacity he can - then follows Y/N into their home while just listing off disclaimers about how he's really not that knowledgeable and doesn't know what he's doing with outfits half the time, but if they're really sure -
Ends up being the one giving the least "advice" because Y/N could try on anything and he'd say they look great, with that earnest expression that just makes it impossible to be mad about it. Y/N can try the process of elimination, and he does a lot better answering "this or that" questions. The living room ends up a mess by the time he's actually starting to help, almost hesitant to make contact. His gaze keeps flitting up to their eyes, checking in with them if things are still okay and he's good to continue. Ends up losing his anxiety by the end of it, giving them a couple earnest compliments. But once he's out the door and back alone he realizes that's it, that was his role in this and that's what it'll always be, and that does sting a good bit.
Post-reveal:
Sun: And here you have chosen death. No longer concerned about propriety and overstepping, because now boundaries are all in the open and secrets no longer exist, he's very eager to show Y/N the full extent of his knowledge. Will no longer be too shy to go into their room, either, and Y/N will have some mild regrets over him judging what they have available. Will also be much less coy about sharing his own wardrobe, and given that he wasn't shy about it before there's just a lot waiting for Y/N.
Will still be focused during the actual buttoning and zipping, but his touch will linger longer when he draws his fingers back down the line of clothing he just closed up. God help them when it's at their back - you know what you do when there's sudden pressure drawn down your back? You arch into it, and Sun is living for it when Y/N just moves with his hand, maybe eliciting a small gasp... "There, all set" - and his grin is entirely too innocent when they turn to glare at him. Maybe missing the touch already, which is exactly what he intended <3
Moon: A little less violence, good for him. Given the lack of secrets Moon is much more comfortable explaining that his sense of fashion is very much just "I need to work in it and not get killed by Sun if he happens to switch into it" which will make Y/N laugh and set the tone for the rest of the little fitting. He'll be much more of a menace, pretending to contemplate and at times even impersonating Sun and trying to mimic his speech patterns just to make Y/N crack up as they hold different shirts in front of their body.
But when he asks them to "Come here?" with that gentle smile, they don't even hesitate for a second. He's much more confident, maybe even letting out an appreciative hum as he works the buttons/ zippers. Of course, he'll want to look at his handiwork, and helps them turn with his hands on their sides, before grinning like a Cheshire cat and asking if they'll need help getting out of it later, too? Earns him another laugh and a playful smack to the face, but he only laughs too knowing that he will get to help them get comfortable after, too <3
Eclipse: (though not for AU!Y/N, and more a s/o)
Eclipse: Oh, he wants to have fun with this! He'd love to start from scratch, and start it all off with a shopping trip to just look around! If the energy is there, he'd love to go to multiple stores and compare, mixing and matching whatever you like, and looking for accessories in the same go! (or another go. multiple trips is also fun, he just gets excited! online shopping he's also definitely open for, if that's more comfortable - he just likes the added bonus of exploration)
The actual putting on he'll be quieter, but still giddy. Torn between reverent staring, excited noises and hand clapping, and actually helping, he's a bit of a scatterbrain about it, but it's okay! Just take enough time to get ready! Very, very careful and gentle with any buttons or zippers - he doesn't want to pinch you, or break anything, and animatronics are strong enough for a mindless little tug to end with a loose button or damaged zipper. With four hands he's got a good advantage though, and two can take care of buttons and zippers, while two can hold the rest of the fabric in place. If that happens by having his hands rest on your shoulders, sides, hips, or even all of the above depending on where he's currently zipping/ buttoning, that's between him and you!
Will shower you in compliments as soon as he's done, before quietly asking if you like it, too - because he knows that's the most important part, and if he hasn't helped you before and/ or you have very different tastes in fashion, he'll want to check in that everything went well and you're satisfied! <3
#answer let luce#clxckwork sun n moon#accidentally undercover#I feel like I make a lot of jokes abt sun and his fashion so i had to emphasize again#his job *requires* him to look good in a suit and he puts a lot of effort into matching the occasion#him ending up liking suits was more of a coincidence but he likes the ego boost it gives him#this isn't even 1.2K in total so not too insane but yknow. snipe the simps#tried to keep the length roughly balanced bc im normal about being fair#it's a pine forest pre reveal and the boys fancy a good long walk in there#i got so distracted from this im so sorry LMAO#enjoy!!
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Consider a multiverse fic in which canon! Q and Bond find themselves in our universe. I normally don’t like this trope because it almost always ends up feeling too gimmicky, but James Bond is such a cultural institution with an equal amount of cultural baggage that you can just about pull it off I think. And the angst potential is exquisite.
Above and beyond the getting yanked bit, they can tell something is wrong in this new place the moment Bond uses his classic intro—”the name is Bond, James Bond”—and gets a hearty chuckle and a ‘good impression daniel craig lookalike’ in return.
(Bond could actually sense it a little earlier when Q saw him and pulled him into a bruising hug as if he’d seen a ghost. ‘What year is it for you?’ Q asked and looked puzzled for the briefest moment when Bond said 2019 though he quickly replied it was the same for him too and he had no idea where this 3 year gap came from, where in this new place it’s 2022.)
And this new place is full of ghosts—Eva Green looks exactly like Vesper, Judi Dench exactly like M and DCraig and Ben Whishaw, all of them actors, exactly like the two of them and so on.
Still, when they get DVDs of the films, they expect them to be wildly inaccurate—isn’t that always the case with movies based on ‘real stories’?—even though they hope they might contain some clue as to how the hell they get back home.
Except they start CR and according to Bond, every single detail spot on from the make of the car he drove to what he wore—
I just think you can do so much with taking someone as private and cagey as Bond and turning his life (his grief) into mass entertainment, you know, and how dehumanising and bewildering it must be for them both to find out your life is a story as far as a whole universe is concerned with narrative choices and plot points, and them finding out that Bond is this symbol of ultimate masculinity to so many men.
And it would also offer this intrusive but super interesting window into the bits of each other’s lives they were never a part of (Q suggesting they don’t have to watch CR when he realises what’s going on and what’s coming or at least that he doesn’t have to be there only for Bond to make it a point of pride and doom them both) and it would also be a tale of grief—not only for people Bond lost along the way but for Q too; Q who very much so is from 2022.
I just think of them reading the commentary from the cast and producers around NTTD alone, that the best ending for Bond was for him to die for the people he loves the most, that Madeleine was the love of his life etc. and I break my own heart, man.
#00q#james bond#fic ideas#also AUGH Q tearing up when Bond tells Vesper all those things at lake como#and being swiftly and cruelly told off#vs Q breaking down at the end of NTTD and running away#into the bathroom only for bond to come sit with him and hold him while he sobs#idk man it is SUCH a dumb idea like i said earlier#but you can do so much with it#so much character meta it's insane...#anyway this was a great distraction for pre-match nerves#also this story would have a happy ending#bc by nature nttd is not canon compliant for bond etc etc#so he has the power to go change things! rewrite his own ending!!
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ok let messi statpad first then we have a deal
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HII UHMM I KNOW I KNOW BUTT CAN YOU MAKE ANOTHER JEALOUS CHRIS ONEE.. LIKE I LOVE IT SM . AND I KNOW THE BF AND THE READER BROKE UP BUT PLEASEE.
texts w/ jealous! chris (p3)
chris sturniolo x reader
warnings: smutttt, masturbation, use of dildo, cursing, reader is in a toxic relationship, squirting
**could be cheating depending on how you view it. i’m not promoting cheating in the slightest, this is fiction. please do not cheat on anyone.
a/n: previous part
CHRIS’S POV
i stared at the set of numbers in confusion.
why did she send me her birthday?
once i saw the text she sent after that, it clicked.
she gave me her my eyes only password.
my fingers moved quicker than my mind could process, as i logged into her snapchat account.
once i was granted access, i immediately swiped up, clicking on my eyes only.
i typed in the password, and the sight i was met with made my eyes widen.
i clicked on the first picture, eyes immediately being drawn to her body.
at first, the pictures weren’t too crazy, just her in slightly revealing clothes.
they still drove me insane, though. her face was turned into a slight smirk, as though she was taunting me.
her clothing hugged her curves perfectly, showing off a minimal amount of skin.
with the next swipe, my heart dropped at the sound of a moan.
“fuck” a sweet, low moan fell from her glossy lips.
the camera only showed her face, but the sounds of her fingers pushing in and out of her wet pussy could be heard.
the noise immediately went to my dick, making my already semi-hard on worse.
“oh shit” she bit her lip as her face scrunched up in pleasure.
i began to palm my dick as i listened to the moans that fell from her mouth, wishing it was my name that she was moaning instead.
“yeah? wish that pretty dick was inside of me, huh?”
“fuck, yes” i whispered in response, as though she could hear me.
my hips jerked up into my hand when my tip brushed against the fabric of my boxers.
“wish you were buried inside of my tight walls baby, i’d milk that cock for all it’s worth”
“oh my god” i moaned out.
seeing this side of her was shocking, and it made me want more.
“fuck, i’m so close!” she moaned out as the wet sounds increased in frequency.
her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her mouth hung open as she let out a pornographic moan.
just as the camera began to pan down, the video cut off, not allowing me to see anything further.
i swiped again, and this time, she held up a pink dildo.
my eyes widened and i immediately pulled down my pants and boxers, letting my dick slap my stomach.
she spit onto the toy, and took it into her mouth.
she pushed it in and out, moaning around it while staring at the camera.
she propped the camera up, allowing me to see her matching set.
it was a lacy, bright orange that made her skin glow.
she was sat at her desk chair, and quickly stuck the bottom of the dildo to her seat.
my hand wrapped around my dick, spreading the pre-cum around my tip.
i began to pump myself as she moved her panties to the side and sat on the dildo.
“holy fuck, holy fuck” i groaned out.
i watched her boobs bounce in her bra, as she leaned back against the chair and grabbed them.
“fuck, you feel so good buried inside of me like this”
she spoke to the camera as though i was in the room with her, fueling my imagination.
i barely allowed myself to blink, not wanting to miss a single one of her movements.
she let out several choked out moans as she stuck her hand in her panties, rubbing her clit.
“ughhh” i groaned out as thick ropes of cum flew up and onto my stomach.
suddenly, she lifted herself off of the dildo.
“want a better view?” she asked before she turned around, straddling the chair.
i kept my hands at my sides, gripping onto my chair in shock.
she moved her panties once again, before sinking onto the toy again.
she left me mesmerized, mouth hung open as i watched her ass move.
she lifted herself up and down, ass jiggling with every movement as her moans got louder.
“chris! chris! i’m gonna cum”
she moaned my name.
not her boyfriend’s, mine.
she continued to moan my name as she lifted herself up and squirted onto the chair.
squeals and screams rang out from my phone as she gripped onto the chair, while her body shook uncontrollably.
i quickly swiped out of my eyes only, going back to the camera.
i started the timer for the video and propped my phone up against my desk.
i started to stroke myself again, picturing her face as she finished.
the only thing that could be seen in the camera was my face and the movements of my arm, as my dick was hidden under the table.
i looked at the camera, beginning to speak, “you really think you can tease me like that and not receive any type of punishment?” i groaned out.
“such a fucking slut, screaming my name like that” i spoke as i sped up my movements.
“couldn’t even send it directly, had to make me find it ? if you want me, i wanna hear you beg for it ma”
i let out a long groan of her name as my cum shot out of me, coating my hand.
i brought my hand into view of the camera, showing off the sticky substance.
“look at what you do to me, baby. if you want me, all you have to do is ask. you know where to find me” i spoke before ending the video, and saving it to my eyes only.
when i finished cleaning up, i sent her a text.
check your my eyes only, baby.
make sure you’re alone ;)
——————-
hope u like <33
masterlist
tag list: @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnsdior @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @abbie13sworld @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @sturns-posts @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn
#🌷#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x you#chris x reader#chris sturniolo texts#chris sturniolo fic#sturniolos#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo fic#smut
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more rich boy alhaitham pls🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽i love the concept and how u wrote it😭🙏🏽😭🙏🏽😭🙏🏽😭🖤
cw. ⪩⪨ fem! reader, rich boy au, rich boy alhaitham, process of falling for you HARD, a little possessive again because I cannot help myself, rough sex & very messy
whether you believe it or not, rich boy alhaitham has never been in love before— and the scribe thinks about one specific kind of love here, one you read about in books, one you can evidently witness between two strangers while crossing the street.
essentially, he was attractive and he knew it, a man blessed with extraordinary intelligence and talent, bringing to mind that he was exceptionally wealthy as well.
so, speaking from an outer perspective, those factors certainly couldn't be the reason as to why he was unlucky on finding his perfect match— in fact, no one could ever deny how greatly alhaitham was being admired by the people of sumeru.
or was he?
or perhaps, they really don't often pay attention to him, because you see, he doesn't want them to.
he purposefully keeps a low profile, with a veiled identity and ulterior purposes hidden right beneath, so that he could rest easy and indulge in a comfortable life— with his wealth continuously growing, yet no specific target on what to do with it, or on who to spend it on besides himself.
yes, it was true, he sometimes catches himself getting lonely.
but in spite of that, after he meets you it's different, because suddenly alhaitham finds himself in trouble without noticing how the feelings of love were already coursing through his veins.
how unnoticeable falling in love was, snap and it's over, it's astonishing how he just needed to get closer to you.
you swallow thickly, and it was foreseeable that you ended up in his bed again, it's on the point of each night that it ends the exact same way now.
both of you knew why you were sharing a bed again— lewd and lustful traces curving over the slopes of your body and stimulating your needs— how utterly interesting how fast someone's mind could simply switch off and decide that you were in love now.
just from a simple look, and alhaitham was yours.
and he never would've let this happen to himself— the stress on how to navigate through an emotion such as love, especially since there wasn't a rational answer behind the multiple explanations he read about in the past, nor could you buy real, pure love with money.
if it were for anybody at all, he would just brush it off or at least try, but you just had to be so cruel and invade his mind.
you feel his gaze on you now, and it's the way his breath tumbles over your parted mouth that you know he's done for— his tongue driving between your lips before lapping over your pink muscle as his hips leisurely push into you.
it drives alhaitham insane, no amount of money could even come close to this feeling of pleasure and genuine lust, it's like a heavy drug someone would grow addicted to in the twinkling of an eye.
you squeal when he bites down on your bottom lip, your trembling frame teetering on the edge of a rapid sensation while every slap of skin turns the bedroom aflame, until the pleasure goes straight to your puffy clit, overflowing your belly with butterflies.
a burning pressure pricks at your spongy walls as his cock repeatedly crowds you, giving your hips a good squeeze as alhaitham presses you back into his length, making sure you're taking him all at once.
your arousal was clinging to his toned abs and turned the view before you all the more sinful, your soft pussy glistening with your slick and his pre when he uses it as a natural lubricant to make it pleasurable to the both of you, hitting your aching spots just like that.
alhaitham can hear how much you're enjoying this and he hopes he doesn't give away how much he has been enjoying this as well. of course, it's much more evident in your case, precisely from the way your moans trembled and your hips stuttered and flinch into his dripping dick, your body attempting but ultimately failing to meet his thrusts half way as you're struggling to find any strength to lift your hips up.
alhaitham sees it's too much for you by now, he can also feel it in the way you're clamping around the base of his erection with dripping heat, until he was all soaked and wet in your oozing arousal.
needless to say, the wealthy man placed a mental note into the deepest depths of his brain for later— to, as one might expect, treat you to a glorious shopping spree with a luxurious dinner waiting for you afterwards.
basically wherever you wanted to go to, he would make it possible, because obviously he will make it happen just for you! and wether the feelings he was encountering right now were pure and good ..
.. alhaitham would do anything to keep you, and he won't ever lose you.
©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham smut#al haitham x reader#al haitham smut#genshin x you#genshin Impact x you#alhaitham x you
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INSANE CHARACTER TOURNAMENT: PRE-MATCH VIII
[ID: Background is a gradient of blue, purple, and pink. On top, there's the pictures of the contestants, separated by a “VS” sign. Above it, reads “PRE-MATCH VIII” in bold black letters. /End ID.]
#ben linus#lost tv series#lost abc#kristoph gavin#apollo justice ace attorney#ace attorney#apollo justice#insane character poll#i hope i did the image description well bc you cant edit polls#tumblr bracket#tumblr polls#tumblr tournament#polls#poll#character tournament#insane pre match#insane character poll poll
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you know how cats like when you scratch above their tailbone
that but with lee know, like
if your fucking him from behind, just scratch and stroke over his tailbone, its enough to get him coming untouched
and the way he mewls like a kitten...
kitty~
lee know x reader
warnings: dom reader, sub lee know, reader fucking him though could be w a strap or a dick, cumming untouched, kitty lino, idk what else
a/n: help, help, help, anon you are 😵💫🙏, this is really short and kinda shit bc i haven't written in forever but found this in my inbox and couldn't resist
it happens when you're fucking into him, ass up and head buried into the pillows bc poor baby is too embarrassed to let you hear the downright slutty whines and pleads dripping from his lips one after another as you ram into prostate over and over.
any other day you'd tug him up by his hair, wrap your hand around his throat and pull his back flush to your chest. making his head spin by placing your lips beside his ear, teeth nipping at his earlobe while you whispered such dizzying things to him.
but you're feeling nice today-or cruel.
with you, he finds that the two are often intertwined; one and the same really. able to bring him to the brink of insanity, leaving him drowning in the pool of your desire.
mercy is delivered in the form of sweet words and honeyed praises that seep into his skin, making him delirious like venom. and mercy is injected into him in the cruel way you thrust, pulling hoarse whines from him with every jolt of your hips: rough, demanding, animalistic, just the way he likes it.
"oh kitty~" you coo, and he mewls, proving the point you've made. "so pathetic." and you were right. you make him feel like he's melting, drooling into a puddle for you to mold and remake into whatever you pleased.
you sigh, "so messy," another truth, you were almost worried for your sheets with the amount of pre-cum he was leaking. "you gonna purr for me next? like a good kitty?"
he clenched around you, delightfully so.
he just looks so much like a cat right now.
the cat ears you had so lovingly placed in his hair, matching in colour so well they fit in seamlessly they might as well be real.
the way his hips sway, grinding back onto you to match your thrusts. you swear if he had a tail it would be flicking back and forth. wrapping around your thigh or ankle, trying to find some form of holding onto you- stay sane in the depths of this haze.
you were sure if he could purr, it would be loud enough for you to hear no matter how much he'd try to hide them. you could still hear his muffled mewls and cute hiccupy gasps even now.
just like a cat.
your pretty kitty, your lino.
and maybe...just maybe...
experimentally, cautiously (because much like a cat, you knew he didn't need to be provoked much to bite) you pressed your hand, lightly against his tailbone.
his reaction was immediate, and obvious, startlingly so.
his back arched. his thighs trembling, keening as he pressed back against you, grinding needily, like he couldn't get enough, like he could never get enough.
so you pressed slightly harder, rubbing small circles to the area, ripping high desperate mewls as he spasmed around you. unable to help his head snapping back, looking at you with wide, watery eyes as he came, dirtying the already ruined bedding with his spend.
you couldn't bring yourself to care at this point.
and he couldn't either.
you hummed, amused as you watch him slump onto the dirtied sheets, completely boneless. a quiet cry following when you slipped out of him.
"well that's something new~"
"-you...-you are never doing that again." he huffs, quietly, with little deliberation. with just enough force, in a way that you know he's going to be begging for it in less time than one may think with a stubborn, steadfast man such as your lino.
you only laughed and he shuddered at the sound.
"we'll see, kitty."
a/n: please, please give me a little slack if this is awful-the thoughts took over i wrote this in like half an hour in a moment of weaknessssss😫 i can't control them anymoreeeee
also ik i have a taglist i'll prolly get that out later today if i ever get it out at all😭
#inbox💌#hard thoughts#dom reader#stray kids smut#stray kids x reader#sub stray kids#stray kids hard thoughts#sub lee know#sub kpop#sub idol#lee know x reader#lee know smut#minho x reader#minho smut#sub minho#sub skz#sub!minho#sub!skz#sub!stray kids#dom!reader
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CAR SHOW
chris smut, ANOTHER DREAM COME TO LIFE (y’all i had real bad writers block after the bad turn out with my marathon)
dom!chris • poc!reader friendly
not proofread
contains: missionary, making out in an elevator, couch sex, public foreplay, oral (fem!recieving), fingering, pet names, missionary, no use of y/n, lots of touching/groping, BOLD CHRIS
word count: 1.4k
the smut starts off at a car show in chicago (obviously) very crowded and the whole nine, js telling y’all
Surrounded by all my girls and my hood, the streets were filled with people admiring and betting on the cars, you could guess this is would be straight out of fast and furious.
Slipping between people packed like sardines, Teanna and I searched to find Wicked. We approached the brown-skinned completely tatted up man with the blunt between his lips “Wicked, how much for that uhm— blue car ova there” I pointed even though there was people surrounding the car so you couldn’t even see it anyways.
“G, which blue car? There’s that mo’ fucking teal one, the navy one…” he went to list all of them then asking for the model of the car.
The navy hellcat began to backfire and I specified it putting in 500 hundred and Teanna went against my bet for the opposite bright-green car. We dapped up Wicked leaving the spot going towards our friend group but recognised an unfamiliar faces. I brushed shoulders with one of the boys and he looked back with him catching a glimpse of his glimmering blue-irises before his lips curled into a slight smile.
I tugged on Teanna’s matching jacket to mine to see if she noticed them “Where he from?” I singled him out.
“I don’t fucking know” I constantly went to glance back to him as he got farther til he was beyond me. Or not. He walked up to me about half an hour later already noticing those eyes from under the street lights “What car did you bet on?” He asked me semi-yelling over the loud voices around us.
“Navy blue— half a band” I answered pausing between my sentence “What’s your name” I quizzed “Christopher, and you?” He gazed out to search for what I was looking for when I wasn’t staring into his eyes.
“Sweet mama” I said jokingly cracking up between the syllables, he chirped his head towards me before scrunching his face and laughing his ass off. Christopher’s laugh was contagious as he held his stomach trying to calm himself down. He licked his lips with that cocky smile still plastered on his face “It’s just a nickname or whateva”
I choose not to tell men my name up in these places because I usually just have flings here and there and I didn’t want guys hitting me up after getting good pussy for the first time in they’re lives.
“Where’d you get 500 bucks to bet on cars?” Now he getting too curious but I couldn’t take my eyes off Chris’ handsome ass face, nose—so rideable, lips—so kissable, cheekbones—insanely sharp and eyes—so lustrous. “Are you from here? I ain’t never seen you out here” I averted the conversation while I analysed his build, he caught me wandering around inappropriate places “Nah, I’m from LA”
I stand correct, climbing closer to Chris’ body to feel the heat emitting from his body “I’ve never fucked no LA boy before”, we laughed together once again just chatting and our conversation escalated quickly as the pre-game alcohol I had began to flow throughout me.
At this point we were only waiting for the race’s to start but Chris was getting impatient as my back was facing him with him forearm cutely wrapped around my neck to pull my ass upon his crotch.
He discreetly parted my thighs that were before meshed together and started to move his hand up my skirt, his middle finger grazing the wet part of my panties. “You’re already soaking for me” Chris’ plump lips were felt on my ear as he whispered into them. Sliding a finger past my slick cunt, I whimpered quietly as if somebody could hear us. Chris teased my clit between his now two fingers until he removed them to slip them into my mouth making me suck my wetness off. “What are you tryna do mama” His sultry voice sung music in my ears.
“My penthouse is right back here” I pointed to the luxury apartment across the street not even five minutes away from where we were. I gripped on his wrist trudging through the large crowd, pushing everybody in our way including Wicked.
“What the fuck is you doing with LA” Referring to Chris I just rolled my eyes continuing to weave around people. Quarter past we finally got to my complex and our arousal peaked as he was stuck kissed at my neck while tightly holding my waist until we saw the elevator open in-front of us.
Chris and I climbed in as I groped his bulge through his black tinted jeans, palming him while the elevator doors closed slowly. He let his groan leave his mouth when the doors shut and we continued to mesh our lips, sloppily touching each other until he looked up at the elevator camera in the left corner then brushing it off gripping my breasts from under my skimpy tube top.
Not wasting time before the door opened, I pushed up knee to create friction against his bulge earning desperate moans from him. Chris’ lips lapped with mine, he grasped my neck drawing me in closer. “I need to taste you mama”
I hummed but the ding sound of the elevator arriving at my floor stopped me, Chris lifted me with ease and I helped him by wrapping my legs around his waist and I directed him to my door.
Dropping me once we got inside my place he locked the door behind him, getting back to me quickly tearing of my jacket to then stripping off my clothing, starting with my tube top—down to my miniskirt making me close to nude. Left with my lacy patterned bra and basic black thong (I knew I was getting dick tonight).
Chris laid me down on my back onto my L shaped couch, he split my legs, propping them up to yank off my thong to apply his face near my heat and licking at my clit. Sucking on it Chris eyes were one mine as his tongue danced along my warm folds taking off my wetness and replacing it with his saliva. “Chrissss”
His name dragged throughout my lips while Chris used his two finger to spread my sticky folds and inserting his index pushing it knuckle deep into my pussy. “You taste so sweet mama” Chris held my hips down because I was rocking them up too desperately for the warmth and plumpness of his lips. He separated from my cunt adding another digit in to stretch me out and prepping for his cock.
Abruptly pulling his fingers from my cunt and dragging me closer up to his crotch, Chris unzipped his jeans teasingly removing them. Fuck.
Chris’ cock was thick and lengthy making me shocked but not surprised. “You’re gonna take this dick like a good girl for me” I nodded in anticipation, watching him jerk his length on my entrance before leaning into me and inserting it leisurely as my eyes began to well with tears “So fucking tight, Shit”. Attempting to blink them off, the feeling of being stretched to my limits started off uncomfortable until Chris bent down to kiss the tears from my cheek while slowly sliding in and out of me.
Wet from my last orgasm he quickly adjusted in me with his hands were carefully held my waist. Beginning to pick up his speed, my body jerks along with Chris’ cock rubbing against my insides, pushing in harder and deeper with every thrust he took. Using his grip over my hips to brush my g-spot, I yelped loudly with the sensation it gave me “Right there Chris! Don’t stop— Yes!”
His groans got louder as my walls clamped around his length that was twitching inside of my pussy. The waves of pleasure shocked through my spine causing my back to arch fiercely along with my orgasm chasing me.
My moans and screams told Chris I was close “Cum with me baby, cum all over my cock” his lewd words drove me over my climax, my body trembling beneath him as he caressed my stomach alongside his length bulging out and the feeling of the warm liquids filling me up before he pulled out and the fluid spilled from my pussy and he pressed it back in.
Chris licked off the remaining moisture from the inner-thighs, piercing me with his icy blue eyes as he did it “I should stay for the night” Chris insisted. “But the show” I reminded him
“I can give you a show mama”
tags: @lunariaxzz @thesturniolos @angelic-sturniolos111 @littlebookworm803 @chrissturniolosbitch @leahsbussy @luv4kozume @alinaa131 @sturniolopowers @mattslolita @sturniofilmd @sturnioloooooo @mattsneezing @muwapsturniolo @idkwhosnyla @strniohoeee @iiheartstef @nonamegirlxsturniolo @ka1nani @1800chokedathoe @fuzzycupcakebeliever @mattgirly @mattslutt @nicksmainbitch @luhsexcbihh @hearts4chriss @riasturns
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fluff#sturniolo triplets#hoesformatt#fan fiction#fan fic#riyahspeaks#hoesforriyah#riyahsbadnessmarathon#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#Spotify
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ chaebol!jungkook (4) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*
series m.list // taglist closed.
note: have safe sex & don’t be like these two <3
🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @pamzn @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @kekerrreke @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo
monday
jungkook comes home around lunch time. no words can describe how happy he is to see you half asleep on his couch with bam curled up with you. it's weird. his heart has never matched the pace of his dick before.
he wakes you up by joining you. as he lays his body on top of yours, you wrap your arms around him. he snuggles in closer, leaving kisses on your neck. "what'd you tell your husband?" he murmurs. you sigh as you play with his hair. "told him i went to visit my cousin, jiun."
he nods along, "that makes sense. didn't she just give birth like three months ago? three months is a good time to visit a new born." you're shocked by his memory. "how'd you remember—"
jungkook laughs hearty as he sits up and pulls you with him. "you wouldn't let me cum in you for like two weeks then. got all paranoid about having my baby or some shit."
you shrug. "having your baby wouldn't be so bad."
jungkook's eyes dim. "if you didn't have a husband, right?"
tiptoeing, you plant a kiss on his lips. "aren't you my husband?"
that night, jungkook fucks you like you're the only thing that matters to him. he missed you so much that he had no time to buy condoms. his heart goes on overdrive when you tell him it's okay. you say, "you can fuck me raw. i wanna know how you feel... give this to me, okay? give me all of you."
so he does. in so many ways, he gives you himself.
tuesday
the morning starts off with sex.
the coffee you brewed for the two of you goes cold as it sits on the nightstand, untouched. tangled in his bedsheets, you can't help but giggle at every gentle touch he places on you. it's different. sex with him has never felt like this before. it feels like lightning.
jungkook shoves his cock inside you for the nth time, causing you to squeal. as he towers over you, you moan at the sight of his chain dangling. you feel every inch of his cock pump inside of you, each stroke hitting your g-spot. it's so insane. like, you've never liked sex so much before this. before him.
in the back of your mind, you wonder if you can ever let this go. could you ever forget about this? how tuesday morning sex feels like with the man that you're practically forbidden to be with?
it doesn't matter.
right now, it's him. he's the only thing you see and feel... and he feels like a dream.
as the day goes on, jungkook does a lot of sweet things you never expected him to do. he helped dress you. he started you a bath. he made you lunch. he asked you a lot of questions about your family, ultimately trying to get to know you more. at one point, he looks at you a little too fondly.
"what's with the look?" you ask, hiding your face with your hands.
jungkook moves them, bringing them to his lips. kissing your hands, he looks at you with the sweetest eyes. "you're... evergreen. you know that? you blow my mind. that's all."
you cover up the fact that your heart melted by smirking and taking his hands back. "yeah, yeah... you know what else i can blow?"
wednesday
jungkook can't say he hates this.
you tied him up and spent the past hour edging the shit out of him. between you two, your sweat and pre-cum could fill buckets. he loves the way you're out of breath. he loves the way you're gliding your pussy against his dick, struggling not to cum.
"j-just put it in, wifey." you feel shivers go down your back as he calls you that. "fuck me like you love me."
you freeze.
"like i what?"
jungkook hisses. "s-shut up."
you shake your head. "no. say it again."
jungkook struggles with the rope. "untie me."
"no. say what you said again."
"why don't i show you instead?"
that's all it takes. you untie him and he fucks you like he loves you. as you cum and feel him throbbing inside of you, you want to say it. you want to make a confession. instead, you mumble his name in between kisses and hope he simply knows.
thursday
jungkook spends most of his day at work. he textes you a million times, acting all clingy. you text him back with the same energy and enjoy your day with bam. you clean his penthouse a little and start on dinner.
you make his favourite.
when he comes home, his fatigue posture goes away the instant you greet him at the door. "jungkook?" you peer out of the corner, bam following you.
"hey," he smiles, collapsing into your embrace. "d-did you cook? it smells like—"
"yeah," you flush. "i did. i also made seaweed soup."
"it's not my birthday," he laughs, taking his shoes off. he holds you by the waist, guiding you to the kitchen. over the stove, he watches as you lift the lids off the dishes.
"i saw your calendar when i was tidying your study. your birthday was a few months ago but the date was empty? you didn't celebrate with anyone, did you?"
jungkook blinks at you.
"so i made you seaweed soup. at the very least, we can celebrate together. i hope that's okay—"
jungkook kisses you.
then, he fucks you against the kitchen counter. against his kitchen island, he has you bending over. at one point, you jump on him, legs wrapped around like it belongs there. he brings you to his couch, and lifts your legs. jungkook eats you out for a good hour. he plays with your pussy, switching from fucking you to fingering you until your squirt. when you do, you stain the cashmere throw blankets he has on his couch. it's okay. he'd display them if he could.
jungkook has your legs in the air for so long, they hurt so bad. to soothe them, he runs you both a bath. sitting in his bathtub together, you two giggle uncontrollably over the bubbles and bath salts. you two are so close. so intimate.
he kisses your shoulders. he kisses behind your ear. he kisses every part of you that he can.
by the time you two clean up, the meal you prepared is cold. as you put on your pjs, jungkook reheats the food. you join him by wrapping your arms around him, hugging his back. his heart is filled with so much love as you two sit down and eat together. you feed him a few bites of the soup, sing him happy birthday, and cuddle him to sleep.
that night, he hates your fiancé the most.
friday
jungkook invites his friends over.
at first, you're nervous. completely confused why he would do such a thing, but when you meet them.. you get it. they're all so funny and sweet. it confuses you how jungkook has such a douchey personality when he has such amazing friends.
"i've never seen him like this," his friend jimin comments. "he explained the whole thing to us... and obviously, we've been begging him for months to give up and stop bothering you... but after meeting you; i get it. if i were him, i'd hate your husband too."
you don't know what to feel. a part of you is upset that jungkook would talk about your life with others but another part of you can't help but feel flattered.
when his friends leave, you pick a fight.
jungkook doesn't yell. he apologizes instantly and tells you that he would kill his friends if they ever outted you. you take his word for it, but still hate the feeling.
"make up sex?" he suggests.
you roll your eyes and shove his chest. "get over yourself, you big mouth, ignorant chaebol kid—"
jungkook grabs a hold of your wrists and pulls you close. he throws you over his shoulders and takes you to the bedroom where he shows you just how sorry he is.
you accept his apologies 5 orgasms later.
saturday
jungkook makes an effort to make sure you aren't seen exiting his penthouse. he hires security and makes sure your husband isn't around. for the first time ever, jungkook takes you on a date.
he brings you to an outdoor movie. it's set up on this little hill that overlooks a field of flowers. he tells you that it's his grandmother's field. that he grew up running through them with his brother and one time, he got stung by a bee. he refused to come back ever since.
"why are we here then?" you ask, feeling a little bad at the memory he has.
"they're pretty," he answers simply. "you're pretty. it made sense."
you smile at him. tilting your head, you kiss him. he chases your lips when you pull away. moving closer to him, you lean against him. he holds you as close as he can, watching the sunset and wondering if this is how it will feel like forever.
if every flower field and every sunset from here on out will remind him of you.
sunday
he was dreading for this day to come.
he hoped the world ended by now... because it will. the moment you walk out his door tonight, it will.
jungkook is an angel the entire day. you two wake up slow as the sun shines through his curtains. you two have a quickie in bed. you make brunch together. lazily cuddle on the couch and watch each other's favourite movies.
just like that; it's over.
he looks for every excuse in his head. he wonders if he should just print the divorce papers for you already—but that didn't make any sense. you weren't even married to him yet.
he still had a chance.
jungkook thinks fast. he wonders if he should do it. if he should take his grandmother's ring out from his nightstand and offer it to you. he should, shouldn't he?
then, just as he's about to excuse himself to get the ring—your fiancé calls. you pick up after the second ring.
"hey, love..." you say gently, offering jungkook a smile and excusing yourself to his study.
he curls his fists and wonders just how selfish he could be. he concludes that it doesn't matter. if he could have you—he'd give everything else up. he'd do it. he really would.
but when you come back, your warm eyes break his heart.
"what'd he say?" jungkook asks, breaking the silence.
"he asked how my trip was going. he asked when i'd be coming home... and if we could move the wedding up."
jungkook's heart breaks.
"up by how much?"
you gulp. "next month."
he has no words. all he does is nod and back away. you move forward, wrapping yourself around him.
"we have a few more hours left," you comfort him. "let's be together for a little longer.. okay?"
he looks at you, utterly conflicted.
then, you kiss him and his mind clears.
you'd win.
no matter what he says or does, you'd win. you'd win him, you'd win your fiancé. but fuck that because it doesn't matter who you choose. you'd always have jungkook.
he kisses you until you're out of breath. he fucks you in such a fulfilling way, you swear you see stars. it's so different from the other times. it's loving. it's wishful. every handful of your breast he squeezes, every lick of your pussy, and every thrust he shoves his cum in deeper inside of you—it's mesmerizing. it's unforgettable. it's everything you've ever wanted and ever thought to want.
jungkook gives you everything. every plea you whimper, every kiss, and every touch in between you two—he tries his best to remember.
jungkook fucks you like there's no tomorrow.
because there isn't one.
this was the end.
#bts smau#bts scenario#jk cheater#jk x oc#jungkook smut#bts smut#bts cheating au#bts ceo au#jungkook ceo
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a thousand faces in a thousand places
synopsis: the housewardens with a Sparkle (from honkai: star rail) reader. (headcanons)
gn!reader + reader is not yuu
RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
uhm! 😨 (scared)
there is not a single universe where this man, pre-overblot, did not hate you.
so, how did you two meet? considering your mysterious, yet still childish personality- you probably got sorted into heartslabyul!
you’re basically like alice but.. so. much. worse.
pre-overblot he’d, most likely, be very cross with you.
do you know how many times you’ve been off-with-your-head-ed? because it’s happened a LOT. and i mean, a lot a lot.
you were in and out of everywhere, were rather cryptic, and had a strong mischievous streak.
how could he NOT be annoyed? smh.
though, post-overblot, i think he’d be more relaxed.
of course, he’d still be exasperated, but not to the level of annoyance he had before. progress, woop woop !!!
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
i am still scared. not for you, but for leona.
he’d be annoyed, i suppose. you’re like a creepy, more out there, more literally insane version of ruggie.
so, how did you two meet? it’s similar to how yuu and the lion met, actually. except.. there’s kind of a difference.
whereas yuu stepped on his tail (by accident!), causing leona to go “ooh i’m gonna eat you” like a shark on steroids, YOU were the one who.. tried to eat him.
picture this, leona sleeping on the botanical garden, you seeing his tail and immediately going
how romantic a meeting! be still, my heart! meetcute who?
you immediately started laughing hysterically when his startled awake gaze met your terribly amused eyes, so the impression you left to him.. eh.
you probably started a “Call Leona ‘Unca Weona’” trend on MagiTok (that cater undoubtedly joined in on), so he’s probably pretty annoyed at you.
— you’ve also probably used his money to fund some performances.
AZUL ASHENGROTTO
“you have bewitched me body and soul. 🤩” “HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY HOUSE”
he’s probably mildly terrified of you and your absolutely horrendous schemes.
so, how did this lovely pair meet? WELL.
azul, doing paperwork in his office or whatever he does, looking like he sniffs lint, jolts when jade enters abruptly.
it’s unlike the eel’s usual respectful manner, so he’s pretty confused, immediately going “what is it?”
a sheepish jade smiles awkwardly and goes to say something like, “blah blah vanished into thin air before they could pay.”
azul is BEWILDERED. vanished??
so, obviously, righteously wanting his money, he tells jade and floyd to go look for you.
they did not find you.
fun.
KALIM AL-ASIM
he has a new bestie now!
you two are great friends, your chaotic (one more so than the other) tendencies and fun-loving personalities make you a great pair.
jamil would say otherwise.
you two go on happy little excursions around the campus, terrorizing a few people here and there, and honestly just having the time of your lives.
he was so glad you weren’t his friend just for his wealth, but because you liked his personality as he liked yours.
though, you, as someone who can only have their interest piqued by amusement, didn’t understand why he’d think you were using him.
you wear the most stupid matching shirts (that kalim bought and jamil tacitly approved) and walk around, happily playing and leaving only destruction in your wake.
VIL SCHOENHEIT
you’re fashionable, he likes you.
with your skill in acting, you’re probably in the film studies club, which is most likely how you two met.
he admires your.. cough, dedication. and he also thinks your personality is a bit (is it?👀).
“your dedication to being you is admirable.” “hehe thanks but wtf🥰”
as literally everyone is, kalim not included, he’s pretty exasperated by your chaos-causing tendencies and unhinged personality.
illusion magic is your jam, so just imagine how shocked he was when looking into his mirror and seeing your evilly-grinning visage instead of his own face.
(rook approves.)
talking about rook, a curious vil had asked the hunter to.. stalk you for a while, because he was confused if you were really the person you portrayed yourself as.
a laughing rook gave the report that you had found him out and asked if he was close to his housewarden because he stripped himself naked and apologized for his crime of liking neige.
vil is flabbergasted.
IDIA SHROUD
on one hand, he’s terrified, and on the other- he thinks you’re funny.
you come up with the most unhinged insults, and you always get the last word- he thinks you’re admirable.
your level of extrovertness is shocking to him.
first kalim, now you? he is Shaking His Head™.
how you first met doesn’t matter, what matters is what he accidentally said when first meeting you and having a good short chat.
“mesugaki..” he mumbled in the middle of your sentence.
your ears were good. his ears were working well enough to hear his own damn self.
he wants to cry. he wants to dig a hole in the ground and bury himself in it.
“hikikomori.” you immediately responded.
critical hit! idia will have to stay inside his room for three weeks, tell ortho he loves him..
you’d say you two get along well, idia would say otherwise.
MALLEUS DRACONIA
he enjoys your rambunctious personality. he’s normally chilling quietly in the corner, so having you drag him around probably does wonders for how people see him.
he approves (sebek does NOT).
he’s sometimes concerned. he knows humans don’t live long, will you Doing What You Do somehow make your lifespan even shorter?
you’re just being you and he’s standing menacingly right beside you. imagine how that looks to other people.
your local terrorist gremlin and THE malleus draconia. standing next to eachother. chilling.
you probably call him “that guy with the horns”, or something more animal aligned.
like “ram horns boy”.
lilia probably laughed at it, silver didn’t know if he should’ve felt offended for malleus or if it was a friendly joke, and sebek is going to use it as a horror story for the future generations of his family.
you’re just causing chaos and he’s there like 🧍😄
#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst#twst x reader#heartslabyul#riddle rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#savanaclaw#leona kingscholar#leona kingsholar x reader#octavinelle#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#scarabia#kalim al asim#kalim al asim x reader#disney twst#disney twisted wonderland#pomefiore#vil schoenheit#vil schoenheit x reader#ignihyde#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#diasomnia#malleus draconia#malleus draconia x reader#“he is half of my soul.” ; my writing
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୨୧ BF KAISER
ft. michael kaiser
tags. gn!reader, a bit of cussing, all fluff ! / author's note. I HATE HIM!!!!!! (affectionate) also kaiser with a man bun *FOAMS FROM MOUTH*
sleeping with him is the absolute worst. either he will be all over you and squeezing you tight or stealing the blanket from you, there is no in between.
he loves having self care nights with you!! insists to put on face masks and wash your face for you. totally not to just touch you
ALWAYS has his hands on you one way or another. whether it be holding hands, an arm around your shoulder, or leaning on you, he is touching you.
since he normally wakes up before you, he likes watching you sleep, not in a creepy way he thinks you look absolutely gorgeous in your sleeping state.
loves staying up late with you and doing random stuff. talking about random stuff, binging a show/movie, or simply just cuddling with you in silence he enjoys it so much. i firmly believe he prioritizes his quality time with you.
his hugs are the best!!! he's so warm and he doesn't squeeze too tight or too loose, it's just right!! if he doesn't see you for like a few hours though he squeezes the shit out of you
surprisingly a good cook. you constantly wake up to breakfast in bed, your favorite lunch meal, and a 5-star dinner. he has some corny ass apron that says: “mr. good lookin' is cookin” and you can't help but giggle every time you see it, and he's so confused.
WILL give you his jacket if you're cold. it does not matter if he feels like he'll freeze to death too, he will give you his jacket.
has you set as his phone wallpaper. one week it's a pretty candid photo of you, and another week it's a silly off guard photo he has of you. whenever you think you look bad or not, kaiser thinks you look absolutely gorgeous in all of the photos he has of you.
shares a spotify account with you to see what you listen to and what time! if he ever sees you online at ungodly hours of the night he sends you a ‘go to bed already!!!’ text. he's totally not awake either
swings your hands when you two are walking and holding hands. (24/7 basically) he will only start to swing them a little more if you try to stop him.
he unconsciously smiles whenever he sees you smile. he doesn't even realize it until you or someone else points it out, and only drives him more insane because of the effect you have on him.
gets matching necklaces for the two of you with each other's initials. he wears it 24/7, only taking it off before showering. he loves when someone points it out, and starts rambling about how amazing you are.
remembers all of the important dates. your birthday, anniversaries, you name it. he would rather die than forget an important date.
speaking of birthdays, he is always the first one to send you a birthday text the second the clock hits midnight. he pre-types his long paragraph talking about how grateful he is for you and such a week in advance and adds to it on the days leading up to your birthday.
his feet are always cold and it is the worst in the winter because he wakes up and decides to be annoying and puts his cold ass feet on yours. he then looks at you with a smile as if he hasn't done anything wrong ever.
loves going shopping with you!! he loves the way your eyes light up and lips curl up into a small smile when you see something cute. he loves the mini fashion shows you give him when you try on stuff. he will hold all your bags and pay for everything. he is hopelessly in love with you.
pridefully hands you his hoodies to wear because he wants to see you wear it. he giggles in his head when someone points it out because he's happy people notice you wearing his hoodie.
has the iphone sci-fi ringtone as his alarm. he set it one day as a joke and now he doesn't have the heart to change it. despite waking up to it dozens of times, you physically cannot get used to it. he claims he can't change it because of a emotional connection to it now, but you feel other wise. just to annoy you
soo good at flirting it's actually annoying. he's a natural smooth talker and knows exactly what makes you flustered.
#blue lock x reader#kaiser x reader#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser#blue lock#blue lock fluff
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Steve and Robin get drunk one night at a modern college party and are left unattended for a few minutes while Eddie and Chrissy, who are crushing hard on the pair, go get more snacks and drinks, and pause to commiserate about how cute the others are.
They come back to find the two of them crying, nearly bawling, and when they ask what happened, get told that they're upset cause they can't detach Steve's dick and let Robin use it with her crush. That's obviously an insane people sentence, so Eddie and Chrissy kinda go Hwah? and hope for clarification.
But it makes perfect sense to Stobin, because Steve slept with Robin's crush a few years ago, and they know she liked Steve's dick, she said so, so if Robin could just borrow his pre-approved penis, then she'd be so much more confident asking the girl out. Again with the insane people sentences.
Which is not helped by Chrissy informing them that you can order a kit and make a mold so you can make a dildo duplicate of someone's dick. Robin and Steve immediately order one online, start crying again, from joy this time. Eddie and Chrissy make the executive decision that the pair has had enough to drink and get them home.
And a few months later, they've all figured themselves out and are happily dating. One day, when Eddie is hanging out with Chrissy, and Robin left some of her stuff from the night before, Chrissy has to make the unbearably awkward choice to pull out the dildo that wrecked her last night, and get confirmation that, yes, that is, in fact, a match for the one that wrecked Eddie last night, but in purple.
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BABES IM ON THE FLOOR 😭 I watched this Price Voice Lines Video and my god 🫠 His voice is so deep im litrally insane. Could you maybe do something with his lines around the 13:35 mark, where he’s being a self-sacrificing jerk? 🤭 Maybe the Reader is with him on a mission or something and like their both super protective and trying to save eachother or something ❤️
All, Most, Some, None
PAIRING: John Price x F!Reader
SYNOPSIS: Snow melts in the heat of blood.
WORDCOUNT: 2.4k
WARNINGS: Angst, major character death(s), some fluff in the beginning, protective!Price, pre-relationship pining, obliviousness, blood, bullet wounds, hurt/no comfort, etc. no happy ending
A/N: You know I have to finish out my requests with just pure heartbreak.
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
You look out over the dark landscape and take down a breath as the atmosphere of the camp behind you murmurs like a warm drink. Night had fallen swiftly two hours beforehand when you’d first volunteered to take watch, your smile bright and eyes eager. Snow was just beginning to slide down from the gray sky, thick clouds hanging like a navy cloth—splotch marks of yellowish stars a far-off glimmer of infinity.
When the footsteps echo out, coming to your position, you already know the weight and pace of who it belongs to; can trace the way his feet will conform to the dirt and the crunch of white powder. A grin flickers your lips easily but you don’t bother looking over your shoulder.
John huffs as he takes his place beside you on the lookout, crossing his arms over his chest. In the corner of your eye you spy on his loose yet measured face, that authoritative edge that seeps into his skin at times.
For a long moment, the two of you look out over the earth, studying the dips and drags of the Northwest Territories of Canada in early winter. While cold, the jackets the both of you wear take the chill off well enough. Along the body of your MK14 EBR, your fingers rest casually—no need to be tensed and ready. Your sharp eyes hadn’t spotted anything for eons.
“Sitrep, then, Sol?” You hum under your breath as John looks over at you with a raised brow.
“Rabbits and Caribou, Sir.” Your voice goes teasing, “I think we’re boxed in from all sides—I suggest immediate evac.”
A low chuckle and a firm shake of a beanied head, a puff of condensation as the darkness seeps over all to be seen. John glances at you with a smirk.
“Unfortunate, seeing as we just got here.” You smile and laugh deep in your throat. It was at moments like this that you thanked whatever deity was out there that Captain Price had seen your potential all those years ago.
He’d handpicked you when you were nothing but a Private—brought you up with knowledge and stern, yet gruffly companionate, assistance all the way to Lieutenant. You don’t know the exact moment when you started to get flustered around him.
Your chest is tight right now, fingers that were once cold going clammy as you twitch them. Inside your chest, your heart pounds blood into the thin drums of your ears like boot-thumps. Clearing your throat, you shift your feet and push out, “Did Laswell get in touch?”
“Ah,” John shakes his head, taking a breath as he says, “Negative. We’re on our own for this.” He turns his head fully to you and for a moment you’re enraptured by the shine in the depths of his blue irises. Teasing, “Think you can handle it, then?”
You turn away quickly, face burning.
“Doubt me?” Matching his jab you smile widely. John chuckles and jerks his shoulders, grunting as his chin tilts.
“Never.” Hiding the violent burn of your cheeks, you look at the landscape quickly, nails tapping the metal of your gun.
“Sol?” John speaks after a moment of tight silence. You blink over with an interested look, cocking your head. The Captain had shifted to fully face you, and one of his hands itches at the side of his finely-trimmed beard. Fast eyes glance over your form like a studious teacher—your lungs still inside of your ribs. John mutters, “Stick near me tomorrow, yeah? Want you on my six.”
Touched, your brows still furrow with confusion.
“Don’t…you need me to lead Unit Two?” John’s already shaking his head, gritting his teeth. It’s like something’s bothering him.
Feet taking you forward, you grab onto his bicep and stare into his tense face with slight concern. “John?” You ask, lids narrowing.
The man stills at the sensation of your touch, even separated by the layers of his gear and jacket. Eyes slip to yours and lightly soften, the edges easing in their relentless wrinkle of dark thoughts. Like the star that your codename emulated, you seemed to be a ray of illumination for the Captain, and John’s nose twitched before his eyes quickly looked away from your open face.
It wasn’t right to think the way he did about you.
“Just have a feeling, Love,” he shakes his head slightly, clearing his throat. Your hand drops from him and he stops himself from snatching it back.
You smile at him, huffing a laugh.
“Well, who else’ll be able to take my place, then, seeing as you’re so eager to have me by you?” Gazing behind you into the small camp, John grunts, keeping his eyes on you. A small smirk slips over his lips and pulls his beard back.
“Daniels has got it…copy?” Your throat hums in consideration before you nod in a firm flinch of your head.
“...Alright.”
“Good.” The Brit shifts his feet and the snow squeals. Snowflakes collect on the top of your head, sitting atop your scalp like tiny insects as the swell of your mouth goes back in a grin. John blinks at you, and before he knows it, he’s extending his hand up to his beanie with little thought beyond how lovely you look like this.
He plops the fabric down on your head and you snap a hand up to press into it in shock. The man’s large frame slinks back as he takes his leave with you looking back at him; his feet make tracks, leading away to mirror the ones that came before.
“Don’t get a cold, eh? I’ll expect you to be back in your tent within the hour, Lieutenant.” Face burning, you can’t answer.
Blue eyes peek over a wide shoulder. Something sparks in those met gazes, a pinprick of wonder and deep affection. Perhaps it was even love.
The snow falls faster, and as John disappears into the darkness the chill of the open ridge suddenly seems less violent than your pulse as it thumps to the humming of the earth. Hiding a giddy smile, you look back out and rub at your neck; hat upon your head perfectly ingrained with a scent of charcoal and pine.
—
“Leave me! I won’t make it!” The words made your stomach drop through your intestines. Shouted over the open line John’s voice barks the order like a knife with break-neck efficiency. No hesitation.
It had all gone to shit in a matter of hours. The sun was just on the horizon, spreading its hands of dawn over the camp that was awash with blood and bodies. Enemy soldiers, the ones that your squad was tasked with taking out within the next day, had killed the next sentry on duty after you and stormed your position.
To think you were minutes away from being that very sentry was mind-numbing. But now the real problem was the state of the camp.
John had been hit through the right thigh.
Taking cover behind a large pine tree, you dart out at every other interval to fire rounds into anything that dashes like a wild animal into the open. Most of the squad was dead—the rest scattered in the sparse cover that was offered or in the process of dying. Snow melted in the heat of crimson fluid.
Spying the downed figure of your Captain, you growl and sprint out before you can talk yourself out of it, taking the recoil of your MK14 EBR into your shoulder and teeth gritted. John writhes on the ground, trying to maintain control over the remaining forces as his leg is limp and useless. He growls out in pain as his head hits the ground behind him.
“Fuck!” He shouts. You feel a bullet whizz past your head as you skid down to your knees beside him.
“Sol!” He glares at you as you survey the damage quickly, ducking when the metal projectiles get gradually closer and closer. There’s shouting in the far treeline; death cries. “What the hell are you doing? Get out of here!”
“You’re stupid if you think I’m about to do that to you!” You yell, jerking your gun up to release three bullets into someone who had burst out with a raised assault rifle. Pain flares in your left bicep, but you barely notice it beyond a strained, instinctual, whimper. “I’m getting you out of here.”
Panic had gone as deep as your DNA, seeing the large pool of blood around John, his venom-laced words that stem from agony.
“Leave! Fucking hell, Lieutenant, that’s an order!”
“John,” you shout, “shut the fuck up!” The man’s eyes go wide with shock. It wasn’t often that you swore at him.
Making your hands dive under your Captain, you loop your hands behind his shoulders and latch at his armpits. With all of your might, you shift and begin dragging him backward into the trees; gritting your teeth at his pained yell and the bare of his own pearly whites.
Moving like this was stupid, you wouldn’t be able to take out your gun without dropping John—and you certainly weren’t going to do that. Not on your life.
“Christ,” the Brit groans, and you frantically watch the blood trail he leaves behind along the ground. Like a rabbit who’d gotten his leg bit off by a wolf but was still trying to run.
There was too much blood.
Agony explodes in your side, but you keep dragging backward with a new hitch in your lungs; eyes awash with tears before the air leaves you with a ragged and violent gasp. The sounds you hear from all around are horrible—the screams and the popping of rapid-fire shots. Sucking down oxygen with a vile cough, you get John behind a cropping of rocks and have to settle him down as you hack into one of your arms; chest shuddering.
There is a pressure inside of you that digs into your flesh, but the adrenaline floods your brain over the alarm bells, drowning them.
You pull back your arm to see blood. But it doesn’t matter—not now. Not with John like this.
Looking down, you stare into his eyes while you get to your knees by his side. His gaze is wide and stuck at your abdomen with panic, where you already know the damage a bullet can do.
“Love…” he begins, but his fingers curl into fists of pain instead. John breathes heavily, and when you look down to his thigh you find far more than one bullet.
There were three, all spaced out in an arch. One at his thigh, one up on his pelvis, and the other directly in his stomach. Your eyes widen with mute horror, mouth stuttering as your throat closes.
“Yeah,” blood bubbles from John’s mouth as he chuckles in quick gasps. “No good, eh?”
Tears build in great waves, but you force out, “No,” growling, you feel your own blood stain your gear and clothes. No exit wounds for either of you, you can already tell. “No, John—not like this.”
“Sweetheart,” he tries, but you grip the beanie on your head and shove it into his stomach, pressing on the wound there as he wheezes and you sob.
“No, John!” A large hand finds the back of your hair, and you shake your head wildly.
Blue eyes stare with regret and torment before darting back down to your wound. You can feel it—you already know; knew the moment the stray bullet hit you.
The both of you…
“I’m sorry,” he says, quietly so that you have to strain to hear it above the noise. “I’m sorry, Love.” With a shiver of intense throbbing, the strain growing, you dart forward with waning strength and place your lips to his.
Bloody hands grip his cheeks, slipping over his beard in fruitless desperation. Blood coats your mouths, but the moment of pure love and tenderness takes over. For a minute you can both forget the chill of metal and the blood pooling to the ground. The shaking in your muscles.
You can forget that the both of you are dying.
John keeps the back of your head to him as strength begins to slip. When you pull away with quivering limbs, his thumb weakly brushes your undereye to dispel the bitter tears. He hums with wet eyes.
“I never got to take you out, did I?” You slip down beside him, shivering and losing heat not only because of the snow. Limbs grow heavy and in the back of your mind, you know you should be afraid—terrified. Maybe you were.
The comment makes you want to scream and rage and wail.
“No,” you instead say, laughing through a sob at the cruelty of it all as you latch onto him. “No, you didn't, John. But I’m here now. I’m right here.”
Eyes slide over your face as you stay near him; waiting. A tiny smile as his bloody fingers brush your cheek.
“When we get back I’ll show you ‘round Hertfordshire,” you both know that will never happen. His forehead knocks against yours. “You’ll love it, Sweetheart. Know you will.”
“I will,” you promise, knowing you can’t. The world besides both of your eyes swirls. “Anywhere with you, John, is worth going.”
It’s obvious what you mean.
John presses his lips back to yours with one last whispered breath of his vow. “I’ve loved you since I first saw that beauty of a smile.”
The two of you whisper promises and secrets as the gunfire dies down, lips making up for all of the times you should have kissed before and now don’t have the time to. Eyes don’t leave each other as the blood keeps flowing into two large pools of crimson sin. You’re drowned in it—flooded in it.
You should have told him sooner.
“I’ll find you,” you whisper, eyes fluttering. But the body is long cold.
You let your muscles loosen as the last of the fight leaves. Content, even in this, but for the simple fact that John’s arms are around you forever in this moment of endless infinity. The sky rolls back, and your last view is of him.
—
In the snow, preserved by the elements even weeks later, they would find your bodies, curled amongst themselves as if to protect one another. They would say that it had been because you were cold, freezing, and bleeding out from your wounds that you’d huddled for comfort. But that wasn’t the truth.
The two of you had never been warmer than when you were with the other.
What they couldn’t account for were the twin smiles on frosty lips.
TAGS:
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#cod#cod x reader#cod x you#cod mw22#mw2#call of duty#mw2 2022#call of duty mw2#x female reader#john price fic#john price#captain john price#captain price#cod mwii#john price x you#john price x reader#captain johnathan price#call of duty x reader#call of duty x you#cod fanfic#cod x female reader#mw2 fanfic#cod mw2#cod john price#modern warfare 2#modern warfare x you#modern warfare x reader
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The Object that stood in the way of a World Cup epilogue
Hi. So here is the epilogue to the story. These are 10 snippets of R and Ona's relationship. They do go in order, but they don't really have a set timeline (beyond the first 2 taking place in the 24/25 season); the idea is that they just happen over a few years. Also shout out the anon who guessed that yes, R does eventually know some Catalan
Ona Batlle x Reader
Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Epilogue
TW: Suggestiveness, Smut (that isn't really smut but it's slightly more than suggestive if you get what I mean), mentions of previous mental health issues, Injury
Description: 10 moments throughout R and Ona's relationship
Word Count: 6.8k (I'm sorry it's so long but I hope you enjoy it)
First Match of the New Season
“Hola. Bon dia. Hey. Good morning. Bon dia.” Greetings were called as you walked into the building. You passed the media people, waving as you saw the camera pointed in your direction.
“Morning, kid,” Lucy said as you sat your stuff beside her. It was the first game of the season, and you were excited. You were told to be used as a sub around the 60th minute for the first few games, gradually building your strength and stamina. At first, you were a little annoyed. Still, after talking to the coaches, you knew they had your best interests at heart – come back from an injury that had you sitting in the stands for more than a year, not to mention the mental health issues that you had experienced – they wanted to ease you back in, see how you’d cope.
“Morning, Luce.” From the corner of your eye, you spotted Ona walking through the door, chatting away with Ingrid and Mapi. Even in a simple hoodie and cargos, she looked fantastic, with hair in that messy bun that drove you insane and a soft smile as she made her way to her cubby, greeting people as she went. Your match day fit wasn’t too dissimilar to hers; it was hers. You had swiped a faded sweatshirt from her cupboard this morning, kissing the corner of her mouth gently with a cheeky grin.
“I want that one back, you know,” she said teasingly, pushing a finger into your chest as she came to rest by your side.
“And you will … once it stops smelling like you,” you answered cheekily, grabbing her hand and laying a kiss on her palm.
“Ew,” Lucy commented, straight-faced.
“Excuse you, the number of times I’ve been subjected to your nastiness with Keira,” you scoffed. Whilst Lucy wasn’t a big fan of PDA in public, as soon as she knew there were no cameras, she was the biggest cuddler known to man.
“Yeh, yeh. Doesn’t mean I need to see … that,” she shuddered.
“Well, then look away.” You stuck your tongue out at her as you pulled Ona closer, kissing her softly.
“Aye, aye, aye!” Patri whistled across the room, “There are children present here, people.” You laughed as she covered Vicky’s eyes.
Everything was like old times as you went through your pre-match routine. You did a pitch walk with Ona, pinkies intertwined as you wandered around, and a warmup with Lucy, laughing excitedly as you reminisced over the summer. As you walked down the tunnel, you felt familiar arms pull you back.
“Can I do your hair?” She asked. It had been routine for you back in Manchester for her to help you pull your hair back into a bun. She had watched you do it twice before taking pity on you … and your scalp.
“Absolutely you can.” You beamed at her as you gathered your stuff, sitting down in between her legs. She was so much gentler than you as she brushed your hair up and out of your face. She kissed the back of your neck as she finished. You smiled, loving that your little ritual was back. You thanked her and quickly sprayed some perfume before slipping your bib on and heading to the sub's bench.
Unsurprisingly, Barcelona started the season off with a bang, making it obvious that this team meant business once again. It was a solid 6 – 0 win, with the fans going crazy for each goal.
“Vamos!” Patri shouted as she stuck a phone in your face. You cheered with her – your happiness was visible to everyone.
“Mi amor,” Ona called as she motioned for you to come over to her. You started to make your way, stopping and shaking hands with players as you went. You were intercepted by the media team asking for a video about your return.
“Hola culers. Gracias por apoyarme en todo. It’s been a long year, but we’re starting it how we want to continue. Vam-,” you were cut off by a body jumping on you from behind. The warm, sweet scent that engulfed you told you exactly who it was. Ona squealed in your ear as you spun around, her clinging to you, both laughing loudly. You caught a lot of people’s attention as you ran around, dodging through the team and being tracked by a camera.
-------------------
The International Call Up
It was the last international break of the year. You had been doing well, starting games regularly and, more often than not, staying on for the full 90 minutes. Sarina was due to be making phone calls to the squad tomorrow. She had asked for your weekly schedule a few days ago so she could avoid calling you during training … if she was going to call.
You hadn’t received a phone call for the last break. It had stung that you hadn’t even received an email from Sarina or the England team, but having spoken to Leah privately and set up a call with Sarina, they had both reassured you that it was nothing sinister. You had barely returned to the starting XI at Barca, so they thought it best for you to sit this break out. But the seed of doubt had been planted. You saw what happened to Steph when she got injured, and she was the captain, could they be doing the same thing with you? You successfully kept the voices in your head at bay for about an hour before Ona caught on.
“Mi amor, estás bien?” She had asked you when you were lying in bed. It was usual for her to lie on you, her ear pressed to your chest, the methodical beat soothing her before bed. It was strange, therefore, when you denied her from cuddling up to you. She was about to protest when you pushed her to lie back on the pillows somewhat forcefully before diving on top of her. She recognised this behaviour; you wanted comfort and security before speaking your mind. She allowed you to rest your total weight on her, her nails scratching at your scalp and a hand rubbing soft circles on your back.
“What if she doesn’t call?” Your voice was quiet and full of uncertainty. It was muffled; her neck was your hiding place for the moment.
“I know you're anxious about this, mi amor, but she will call. She asked for your schedule, didn't she? She didn’t do that last time.” That was true. Ona knew you needed cold, hard facts—something you couldn’t dispute. “You’re in the starting XI at Barca pretty much every game. And if you aren’t, then you’re a sub instead. You’ve been named in every escuadrón del día del juego across all competitions.”
“But … what if she doesn’t call? It’s been so long since I last wore an England shirt. What happens if she thinks I’m not good enough for it? What if I –” You were panicking more now, sitting up to look in her eyes.
“I’m going to stop you right there, mi amor. I know you are worried about tomorrow, but you need to calm down. Getting histérica won’t help anyone. Deep breaths.” She went through the routine your therapist had set out for you. You had asked her to come to your next appointment after the lack of a phone call. You had scheduled one for the next day, recognising the signs of needing help to process the rejection. She had sat in on the final 20 minutes, taking in all the recommended ways to help you should you ever feel like the world was becoming too much for you. Eventually, you calmed down enough to discuss what was in your head. With each negative thought, she had asked you to either change it into a positive or think of something that challenged it.
“I love you,” she had whispered as you snuggled down for sleep. “So, so much. Whatever happens, that will never change,” she vowed.
“Yo también te amo mucho,” you whispered back.
The next morning, Lucy came into the gym beaming; she didn’t need to tell you that she had been selected. Keira was also softly smiling after lunch, so you gathered she had also received the phone call. So that just left you.
“She does it randomly, recordar?” Ona had rubbed soothing circles into your back when she noticed Keira’s smile.
You were in the changing room waiting for Ona to finish when your phone buzzed.
Sarina: Hi. Are you free for a phone call?
This was it.
Y/N: Hi. Yes, absolutely. Please call whenever.
You barely pressed send before your phone started ringing. The conversation was short and sweet, just like always. She asked if you wanted to join the team, and you accepted instantly.
“So?” Lucy was the first one over to you. The slight smile told you everything she needed to know. She cheered and launched herself at you, knocking the wind out of you.
“Careful, Luce. We do need her for the games.” Keira laughed, joining in on the hug.
“Qué está pasando?” Alexia questioned, frowning slightly at the noise you three were making.
“Sarina phone.” You explained. She knew how much it meant to receive the first phone call after an injury. She surprised you, however, by joining in on the hug. You were still in the middle of the group hug when Ona walked over from the showers. Her hair was wet, and she wore a sports bra and joggers with a small United logo and your number.
“You got the phone call!” She smiled. She wasn’t asking. She knew you’d get it. She had absolute and complete faith in your abilities.
“I got the phone call!”
-------------------
Ona Gets Injured
It was a nice day in late spring when it happened. It was the final game before the international break. You were leaving for England the day after next, being expected at St. George’s Park the following morning. You had 5 minutes left of normal game time; you and Ona had played the full match, legs burning with lactic acid and faces red from the effort. You were winning, but it had been an effort. The first half had ended goalless for both teams. It had been excellent goalkeeping and general defence from them; none of Barca’s shots had been put in the back of the net. Thanks to Patri and Salma, you were now 2 – 0, but it had been a struggle to get there.
You watched, waiting to see if you were needed, as Ona tackled the defender. It was a fair fight; neither was willing to give up the ball easily. As Ona finally freed herself with the ball, a second pair of boots joined the mix. You didn’t see which one did it, but suddenly, Ona was on the floor clutching her ankle.
“Merda. Merda. Merda. Tu gossa. Ai, ai, ai.” Ona rolled around, the swearing sounding wrong coming from her usually innocent mouth.
“Oni… Oni, mi vida.” You scratched along the letters on her back, hoping to comfort her. “Necesitas una fisio?” You asked her. She nodded, her eyes still tightly shut. From behind you, you could see Alexia, Marta, and Patri surrounding the Ref. You stuck your arm in the air, waving the medics over. “What is it?”
“Tobillo. Sus tachuelas atraparon mi tobillo.” You nodded as you rolled her onto her back.
“Let me see those pretty eyes, Oni,” you kissed her forehead as the medical staff appeared.
The game continued after Ona was carried off the pitch. She had adamantly refused a stretcher, but she couldn’t put weight on her foot. You prayed it wasn’t serious, but the grim faces of the medical team told you otherwise. You had sped through the post-match handshakes, catching Alexia’s eyes as you slipped away.
Ona was on one of the beds in the medical room, her ankle wrapped in ice.
“Qué decía? Esta roto? Necesitas ir al hospital? Qué ocurre? Qué tan malo es?” You bombarded her with questions. You had never seen her injured like that before. In Manchester, when she had a concussion, you were an absolute mess – this time was no different. She didn’t answer you, just shook her head, reaching out for you. You ran to her side as you watched the tears fall. With every passing cry, your thoughts started to spiral into worse and worse scenarios.
“Hey, hey. It’s ok. Whatever the doctors said, you’ve got this. Nosotras tenemos esto. You aren’t going to be alone, prometo.” You cradled her head as she cried.
“It’s … I’ve … She …” Ona was trying to tell you what happened but couldn’t catch her breath. She had never been injured like this before.
“Oni, deep breaths for me. In … and out.” You did the same thing she did when you felt overwhelmed, hoping the familiar routine would soothe her more. Buena niña,” you said when she was calm. Now, what did the doctors say?”
“I’ve maybe got a … I don’t know the word in English.” She started to panic again.
“That’s ok, say it in Spanish, mi vida,” you kissed her knuckles gently.
“fractura capilar. I’ve got to go in for scans in the morning. Either way, I won’t be playing in the international window … or for the next month or so, tal vez más si realmente está roto.” Potentially broken. A month or so out, minimum. You know from personal experience how much this is going to hurt Ona.
“That’s okay, mi vida. It will be hard, sí. But I believe in you one hundred percent. We can set up appointments with the therapist again?” It was a strange role reversal. Usually, you were the one panicking and crying, and Ona was the calm, unmoving force in the raging storm.
“And maybe missing the international break isn’t as bad as you think?” Ona started to protest. You once thought like she did, football was your world. It still was in so many ways. But since your injury … and her re-entering your life … things had shifted slightly. You recognised the importance of taking breaks a little bit more seriously now. “No, hey. Listen to me.” You moved to press your forehead against hers. “You’ve been going non-stop for so long. You have also achieved so much under the conditions you were in. I know it’s not ideal, but take the next however many weeks as a chance to properly rest.” You leaned forward a little more and kissed her gently, both of you melting into each other. “Plus, I want a WAG cheering me on,” you added, making her laugh wetly.
-------------------
Going to Ona’s Home
It was a warm day in early spring as you drove down to Vilassar De Mar, the wind whipping gently at your hair. It was Ona’s Abuela’s birthday, and you were spending the weekend with them as it coincided with a rare free weekend. You had slipped away from training, driving to Ona’s family home.
You loved it here; you could happily roam around the streets for hours with the ever-present smell of the sea and saltiness in the air. The first time you had come here was on a similar weekend – her brother’s birthday, you think. You had spent time relishing in the happiness of a regular family, one that made the good kind of loud, full of laughter and love. It made Ona happy to see how easily you fit into her family, playing football in the garden with her cousin’s children, joking around with her brother, helping her mother prepare the food, and chatting animatedly with her father.
“Hola, Àvia,” Ona said as she entered the living room.
“Hola, Néta,” Her grandmother said as they kissed each other’s cheeks. “On és la meva neta encantadora?”
“Todavía no puedo hablar catalán.” You laughed as you hugged the woman tightly. You didn’t know what she had asked Ona, but judging by the blush, it had something to do with you. “Hola, Abuela. Te he extrañado.” Ona loved when you came to her home. Her parents had taken her aside after the second time she’d brought you, asking when she would make you their daughter-in-law. At the time, she blushed profusely, telling her parents she wanted to take it slow but promising that she would make you officially at Batlle one day. But she was beginning to think that day was growing closer and closer with each visit.
“Mi amor, let’s go for a walk, sí? We could go to the cafetería and pick up some Crema Catalana?” Ona said a little while later, already leading you to the door. You loved the little coffee shop with its patterned flooring and twisting vines. The pair of you walked, hand in hand, the short distance to the shop, stopping to take pictures and videos on the way. The fans and the team were going insane at the little snippets of your relationship that you showed online. Everyone loved your love so much that they couldn’t help it.
In this particular video you shared on your Instagram, you had propped your phone up on a bench. As you were busy pressing play and ensuring the phone stayed where you wanted it, you missed the adoring look Ona gave you. Whilst you may not have seen it, the camera most definitely picked it up. You rushed back to Ona’s side, taking her hand and using it to spin her around. You cupped her face as you let your eyes travel across her face. She was so beautiful, God’s gift on earth, you think … no, you know.
“Te amo,” you whispered to her, pecking her lips two, three times. The camera didn’t capture your voice, especially since you muted it and added a song instead, but no one could deny the rosy hue that spread across both your faces. She had pushed her arms around your waist and buried her head in your neck as you rocked gently side-to-side.
You had cut the video for social media there, but on your camera roll, the heavy make out session that followed had been videoed for your eyes only. You had been glad that it was an empty street on a quiet Sunday afternoon. You had pulled away and was greeted to the sight of a dazed Ona, lips kiss-swollen and slightly out of breath.
-------------------
You’re a WAG
For once, your schedules meant you could see Ona play for Spain in person. Usually, you were forced to watch each other’s matches at the hotel, sending each other a steady stream of texts for the other to catch up on after the game. But finally, your matches had aligned in a way that meant you could go to Ona’s match in person. You had just played against the Netherlands, and Spain was playing France. The day after your match, you bid the Lionesses goodbye and headed to the airport. You were so excited when you got the confirmation from Sarina that you could leave camp a day earlier than you were supposed to. You had lied to Ona – it hurt your heart just a little bit when you saw the sadness in her eyes despite the brave smile she put on. You knew it would be worth it, though. You had asked her brother to help secure your tickets, explaining what you wanted to do. He had jumped at the chance, knowing how sad his sister was when you couldn’t make her games in person.
Lyon was loud and busy, with both Spanish and French fans swarming the walk to the stadium. You eventually met Ona’s family, successfully surprising her parents as well. It had been a while since you had seen them.
“Hola,” you said as you sidled up to the small group. Ona’s mother turned, letting out a short, shocked scream before engulfing you in a warm hug. Was the ability to give great hugs genetic?
“Qué estás haciendo aquí? Ona lo sabe?”
“No, es una sorpresa.”
The match was a good one. France put up a fight, but this Spanish team was something else. The way they moved with the ball, the seamless connections, the complete trust – it was something to be admired. You hadn’t really watched the ball, but rather Ona. It had been a while since you could actively watch her in a match. She looked so sexy. What you wouldn’t give to run your hands over those ripping muscles, make her whine and whimper. No, stop! You’re with her parents, you reminded yourself. Later, you promised.
It ended with a respectable 3 – 1 to Spain, with the girls on the pitch cheering and celebrating as they clapped for the fans. You slipped away as the game came to an end. You had spoken to Lucía the night before, asking her for a way to get you onto the pitch. The security guard looked unimpressed, but you pointed your name out on the list of people allowed into the back of the stadium and showed him your ID.
“Será mejor que te apresures y propongas matrimonio. Te ves demasiado bien en rojo para mantenerte como una Lioness.” Lucía called as you hugged her tightly.
“No chance. Putting this thing on was a struggle.” Slipping the red jersey over your head felt wrong, but you couldn’t deny that you liked having Batlle printed across your back.
“Let’s get you to your girl, sí,” She smiled, nodding your head in the direction of the pitch.
You hung back by the tunnel's entrance, some of the Barca girls smiling and waving at you. “Ona, tengo una entrega especial para ti. Ha recorrido un largo camino, así que ten cuidado, sí.” Lucía shouted. You could see the moment Ona spotted you. Her tired eyes lit up, and a smile instantly came to her face. She barrelled into you, arms going around your neck as you lifted her from the floor.
“Déu meu, què fas aquí? Déu meu.”
“Stop speaking Catalan; you know I can’t understand you.” You laughed as you supported her thighs, the other hand running up and down the length of her back.
“You said you couldn’t leave camp early. Me mentiste? If you did, that was very mean of you.” She was still clinging to you, and you made no effort to put her down.
“Technically, sí. I did lie to you. But it was for a good reason, no? Congratulations, by the way. You looked so sexy out there, mi sexy defensora. And that yellow card …” You could feel the heat in her cheeks.
The next day, you woke up to the Lionesses and Spanish football Instagram pages tagging you both in a photo; the moment she ran up to you was captured on video. You looked down at the sleeping woman beside you, her hair a mess, hickeys bitten into her neck, still kiss swollen lips, gentle puffs leaving her mouth. You knew you would marry her.
-------------------
Sant Jordi
Sant Jordi. St. George’s Day. A chance for you to show even more love to Ona. Whilst this wasn’t your first Sant Jordi together, you still wanted to make a big deal of it. In the week leading up to it, you made no effort to remind her of it; yesterday, you had lied when she asked where you were going. You said you were meeting up with Lucy and Keira, knowing they’d easily cover for you. You were actually buying a bouquet of red roses, a single red rose and a handful of books. You knew it was customary for guys to get books and girls to get roses, so you thought it would be best to get both. You didn’t know whether to only get one rose or a bouquet, so you got both instead.
Thankfully, the day also fell on an off day, meaning you had the whole day to shower Ona with your affection. You were taking this day more seriously than Valentine's, determined to exhibit your love to her. You knew she would tell you; you didn’t need to. She knew how much you loved. You showed her every day with the way you gently woke her up to kisses because you knew how much she hated the harshness of an alarm. You showed her every day with your touches; for her, touch was a natural, normal part of the day. Being Spanish, she’d grown up in a touchy environment. To you, it was much more of a conscious decision. You didn’t like physical touch … until she arrived. Once she had very quickly taken hold of your heart, touch had become essential to you. You would gently push her hair back off her face, you would interlink your fingers as you walked, you would stand with your pinkies laced together, you would sit with an arm around her waist at the lunch table as she stood between your legs, you would trace lines up the backs of her thighs if you stood between hers, you would fiddle with her hair. You showed her your love every day by doing the dirty washing, a task she knew you both hated.
You tried to slip out of bed without waking Ona as you woke up. But that girl had a built-in Y/N proximity detector.
“No, d'hora. Tornar a dormir,” She said in Catalan.
“Still don’t know what you’re saying. But I just need to loo; I’ll be back soon, ok.” You laughed as you kissed the back of her head, pulling the duvet around her once more. You raced around the flat, placing the roses in vases and resting them on the table, you stacked the books neatly next to them and your little card on top. Cute and respectable, but not over the top.
“Took too long,” Ona grumbled as you slipped back into bed. Although you had only been gone five minutes, it felt like a lifetime to both of you.
“Lo siento, Oni. Pero ya estoy de vuelta.”
-------------------
Winning Champions League
3 minutes. 2 minutes. 1 minute. 30 seconds. 10 seconds. The final whistle blew. The cheers were so loud as you all bundled on top of each other. Shouts of ‘Campeones de Europa’ echoed in your ears. Barcelona were Champions League winners once again. This feeling would never get old.
“What the fuck!” Keira shouted in your ears, laughing as you hugged each other tightly.
“Holy shit!” Lucy screamed as she landed on top of you both.
“What numbers this one, Luce?” You asked as she squeezed you so tight it almost hurt.
The hugs were sweaty, the screams were loud, and the energy was electric. And you wouldn’t have had it any other way. “Lo hicimos. De nuevo. Juntos,” Ona said as you finally walked into her embrace.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Oni.” You said as you pressed a string of kisses against her forehead.
The party was one for the history books. Music boomed, drinks flowed, and laughter was shared.
“Oni, let me take you home,” you mumbled against her lips. With every drink, your inhibitions were lowered; with every kiss shared, you wanted needed her more desperately.
As you walked back to the hotel room, you couldn’t help but let your eyes and hands explore. The top she wore hugged all the right places; the jeans made her arse look even better. It would be wrong not to push your hands along her waist. It would be criminal not to let your thumb brush her ribs, just under her bra. It would be illegal not to let your fingers drift under the waistband of her trousers. She wasn’t much better. As soon as you entered the lift, she was sucking a dark hickey into your skin, her hand coming up to palm at your breast. You couldn’t tell what mood she was in. When you were at the club, she had seemed so innocent, wide doe eyes that told you she wanted you to absolutely ruin her. But now, with the way she pinned you against the wall, you think she might want to have you underneath her. You didn’t mind either way, knowing you would both be more than satisfied by the night's end.
You got your answer as she laid down on the bed, her jeans in a puddle to the side, her shirt following quickly after it.
“Si us plau.” She only used Catalan when she wanted you to have her in any and every way you wanted.
“Oni, how can I know what you want when you speak a language I don’t understand?” You said, watching her writhe with want as you traced lightly along her body – up her arm, cross her collarbone, skirting around her chest, smoothing across her waist as you came to a stop at her hip, opting to rub maddening circles into her skin.
“Por favour,” she whimpered again.
“Much better, my good girl.” You chuckled lowly as you finally touched her where she wanted.
-------------------
Ona surprises you at Camp.
It was your birthday, and you were on International duty. You had wanted to be woken up to a lovely birthday kiss from Ona, greeted with a wonderful sight of her in an old T-shirt of yours and nothing else, and able to have your way with her in every way she allowed. Instead, you were woken up by a grumpy Leah who had used all the hot water.
It wasn’t all bad; you were greeted at breakfast to a chorus of happy birthday before being given a single muffin with a candle in it.
“No cake?” Tooney moaned as you all tucked into you breakfasts.
“Not allowed. According to Leah, anyway,” you grumbled.
“Bitch,” Tooney muttered under her breath.
“What was that, Ella?” Leah asked as she came to sit beside you. Ella shook her head, flustering at her skipper. “That’s what I thought.”
The day was fairly normal. Sarina let you call out teams and make the groups as a ‘birthday present’. It was a bit of a shite one, but the sentiment was there. One person still hadn’t called you … or texted you. You knew Ona was busy. She was also on camp. But you had hoped she could at least have messaged you quickly. You tried not to let it get to you.
“Hey, Y/N, can you go grab me some more cones?” a trainer asked. I thought I had picked up enough. They should be in the storeroom right by the door.” You nodded, shuffling away to do what was asked.
“Feliç aniversari,” a very familiar voice called out to you. Now, before you say anything that means ‘happy birthday’ in Catalan,” you were frozen. How was she here? She should be in Spain, not in England, not standing in front of you. She could see your shock and took pity on you. “I took a flight this morning, lo siento, I couldn’t text or call you earlier.” As she touched your cheek, you jolted back into reality.
“How? What? But? What?” She laughed that wonderful laugh, finding you short-circuiting at her presence amusing. You were quick to snap her up into a hug. Her comforting smell washed over you. Apples, cocoa butter, and Ona. Home.
“Oni, you’re really here?” You whispered, still in shock
“Sí, amor, I’m really here."
-------------------
The Proposals
You both knew the other one wanted to propose. You had discussed as much over a shared bowl of ice cream.
“Do you … I mean … would you ever … could you ever … maybe … one day ... I don’t know … get … married?” You had stuttered and stumbled through the sentence, blushing profusely as she took your face in her hands. She had waited until you had met her gaze before saying earnestly.
“I have never wanted anything more than to be able to say that you are my wife.” Your heart swelled. How was this fantastic, incredible, stunning, beautiful, funny, kind, wholesome woman letting you love her?
“Would you … who would … do you … ask?” She wasn’t confused by your incomplete sentence; she had known you for long enough that you got like this sometimes, especially when things were important to you, but you didn’t know how to say it.
“Who would propose to who?” she asked for clarification, shifting over to sit in your lap. Her hands fiddled with your fingers as your other hand automatically came to draw shapes on her back.
“I mean … Ale told me that she and Olga agreed they would propose to each other. We could do something similar. That way, we both have rings, if that’s something you want, and we both get surprised, and neither of us feels like it’s all on the other or them.” God, she was so smart. This had been on her mind for a while now, but she didn’t know if you wanted to ask or be asked. She didn’t know if she wanted to ask or be asked.
“I like that idea.” You said quietly, smiling shyly at the thought of marrying Ona.
“Then that’s what we’ll do, sí. We both get rings, we both ask, and we both get asked. It’s a win, win, win.”
You didn’t tell her that you already had a ring tucked away in your locker at the training centre, and she didn’t tell you she already had a ring buried in the bottom of one of her drawers.
You didn’t have a big plan for asking Ona to marry you. You had fallen in love with her all those years ago in the comfort of your own home, so that’s where you wanted to do it. You had fallen in love with her in the mornings when you both had bedheads, big T-shirts on, and sleep in your eyes. Of course, you had fallen in love with her in many other ways at many other times, but this was an Ona only you got to see.
It was a rare weekend off. You had stayed up most of the night laughing it away, tracing shapes onto Ona’s back as she pressed kisses on your neck and jaw. The morning light woke you up, Ona still tightly in your arms, and you knew you would propose today. You had already been told by her Abuela to hurry up and marry Ona before she died. You could feel when Ona woke up; her breathing shifted as she snuggled further into your neck, always desperate for more sleep. You stayed like that until 10, no longer able to put off the allure of food.
“Oni …” you handed her a plate of pancakes and turned back for her mug of coffee. The ring in your other hand. Everyone had said they were nervous about proposing, yet you only felt love, happiness, and excitement for the next chapter in your lives. “Et casaràs amb mi?” You asked as you opened the box. She blinked – a slight flicker of doubt crossed your mind. Maybe she didn’t want this after all? She tackled you, instantly snapping you out of your worry. The force sent you both to the ground. “You just asked me to marry you.” She called out happily. “In Catalan.” She added, making you both laugh. She kissed every part of your face she could reach.
“I’ll take that as a yes then?” You asked.
“Sí, sí, sí. A thousand times, sí.” You pulled her down to you, pouring your emotions into a kiss.
After your proposal, Ona was really thinking hard about what to do. She knew you didn’t want something big or public; she didn’t want that either. But she wanted to do something special, something meaningful and heartfelt. Your proposal had been the most perfect thing: unexpected but brilliantly capturing the essence of your relationship. She decided to wait a little while, allowing the suspense and surprise to build.
It was a cold day in Manchester when she decided to pop the question. The pair of you were visiting for the Derby Day match, flying out immediately after your game yesterday. Where better to do it than where you fell in love? She had told Leah her plan ahead of time, knowing she was the most likely to keep her mouth shut. She asked her to call you both onto the pitch and keep everyone out of the changing rooms while she asked.
After watching a rough match, Manchester could be officially named Red again. As you cheered with your United friends and laughed at those from City (kindly, as you kept reminding them), Ona knew she was making the right decision to ask you now. So much had transpired between you two, most of it here in Manchester. At Old Trafford, you had become in-synch on the pitch. At Old Trafford, you had taken those first tentative steps towards something more than a friendship. At Old Trafford, you had witnessed your love grow together.
“Hey, amor. Let’s go wait for the others in el vestuario, si? I want to see if anything’s changed.” She smiled as you nodded, fingers interlinked and arms swinging between you. You had wanted to keep the engagement quiet, at least until she had asked you back, but that didn’t stop her from wearing her ring on a necklace (except when she was at training – she left it, pride of place on her bedside cabinet), carefully tucking it under clothes, letting it dangle close to her heart.
“It’s strange how familiar this all feels. We haven’t played here in years, and yet you and I are walking down the tunnel at Old Trafford with a Manchester painted red. It’s strange but in a good way,” you said as you pushed open the door, guiding her through with a gentle hand on her back like you always used to do.
“Entiendo. But this is where it all started. Where we started.” It was the perfect segue to her asking you. “Mi amor, turn around.” She said as she sank onto one knee. You did, frowning slightly as you weren’t met with those gorgeous eyes.
“Oni,” you gasped as you took in the sight in front of you.
“Mi amor. I have loved you every day for years. I will love you every day for the rest of my life. Et casaràs amb mi?” Her speech wasn’t long or complicated. You knew how much she loved you, and she knew that.
“Oni, I don’t speak Catalan, remember?” You teased, eyes fogging over with unshed tears.
“Oh, no, you don’t. You don’t get to use that excuse with me anymore.” She laughed, standing up and holding onto one of your hips. “Will you marry me, amor?” Her voice was so soft and gentle.
“Yes,” you laughed as she slipped the ring onto your finger. “A thousand times, yes.”
-------------------
Telling Lucy
You kept the engagement to yourself for a week. Neither of you wanted to hide it anymore; you wanted to proudly wear your ring. It was a random Tuesday morning as you walked in, hand-in-hand. You pressed a kiss to her temple as you drifted over to Lucy.
“Morning, Luce,” you said, acting as if you weren’t going to get married to the love of your life.
“Morning, kid. You alright?” She asked, clearly distracted by something Keira was showing her.
“Yeh, not bad. I got my nails done after training yesterday. Do you like them?” You stuck your hand under her nose. Keira was the first to spot it. The dainty ruby winking at here even in the fluorescent changing room lighting. Her eyes shot to yours before she looked at Ona, who was standing with Aitana. Ona had chosen a ruby for the stone (she had told you it was because Manchester was red, but she knew it was your favourite), and you had done a similar thing, picking an emerald that stood out against her pale skin.
“You haven’t even looked at them, Luce” Keira helped. God, Lucy could be so thick sometimes.
“What, oh, yeh they’re really …” She trailed off as you wiggled your fingers. “Holy shit.” She shouted. “You’re getting married?”
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I'm sorry it's long, but I just couldn't figure out which bits to cut and whatnot. Anyways, that's the end of the story. I hope you guys enjoyed it. And thank you for supporting me - it means a lot <;3<3<3
#woso#woso community#woso x reader#ona batlle#ona batlle x reader#woso image#woso blurbs#woso soccer#woso oneshot#barca femeni#barca femeni x reader#fc barcelona#manchester united#man utd#man utd women#lucy bronze#alexia putellas#lionesses#lionesses x reader#woso fanfics
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