#as always no pressure!! anyone who wants to do it you can say i tagged you!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 2 months

Text

Alastor - [ DEVOTION… PT.1 ]

xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx

[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SLIGHT AGE GAP ] + [ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ] + [ BREEDING KINK ] - ( there’s a lot to unpack in this one, I know, but you’ll enjoy it.. also pls kindly lmk the artist for the fanart I used so I can tag them thx! )

xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx

Alastor Hartifelt was a fantastic husband.

No one could deny that.

Especially not his darling wife of one year and counting.

You, his sole companion during childhood, dawning from a rich family that occupied an estate near his family’s plot of farming land, and exceptionally infatuated with him early into your friendship.

From the very first time you met him out in the sprawling green meadows of Louisiana’s swamped countryside you found comfort in each other even amidst being ignored or teased by other children.

Their shared hatred and resentment towards you and the older boy cultivated an odd but strong bond between you two, and soon your strife to fit in seemed less appealing than being his truest friend.

Alastor immediately became protective of you, finding your shy nature welcoming like his own mothers, but also irritated by those who wished you harm for the simple fact that your family was better off than their own.

If anyone dared to pick a fight, tease, or berate you Alastor was right there to come to your aid. You’d tell him time and time again that fighting for you wasn’t worth it, that seeing him hurt wounded you more than their words, but for some baffling reason he’d never head your pleas.

Why?…

In retrospect Alastor wasn’t sure of the reason himself but he was certain it had something to do with the way you returned the favor by protecting him in your own subtle ways.

Your arms remained wide open when he needed an embrace, voice full of tender understanding when the two of you held quiet conversations late into the evening, and generally being his safe place when the rest of the world refused to be.

You were his darling from the very beginning…

His everything…

Yet, Alastor wouldn’t dare say it aloud..,

The two of you couldn’t be more different to those who observed your relationship from the outside. Alastor held an air of confidence wherever he went, suave, and well mannered. He could be cunning when provoked, dangerously charming to get his way, and refreshingly decisive under any amount of pressure.

A man every woman in New Orleans wanted, craved even, but it was well known the famous radio host had you at his side.

You, the city’s undisputed princess, daughter of a wealthy businessman, but regarded as the furthest thing from a ‘spoiled brat’. It was expected for those in higher circles to have sour and condescending attitudes but you proved to be different. Soft spoken, interested in the arts more than being out on the town, and some might’ve considered you ‘sheltered’ in terms of upbringing.

The contrast between Alastor and yourself brought about many whispered rumors and questions.

“How’d a sweet little thing like her end up with him?”

“Doesn’t he want someone better suited? Whats so special about her?”

“I hear, he married her for the fathers money. Don’t blame him for it either…she’s a real peach…”

“A little young for him don’t you think? She’s a lovely broad though…”

You’d heard it all. Every sort of rumor or piece of gossip people had to offer you’d picked up on rather quickly and at first it bothered you, but overtime seeing Alastor act indifferent to the scandalous comments made you less weary of them.

He’d never entertain the scrutiny, choosing to remind you his decision to marry wasn’t fueled by any ill will and as his wife you’d never need to worry about him caring for you.

Alastor’s always had, even when he’d left New Orleans to build his career he still thought of you from time to time, but that’s all he’d ever done.

Cared for you…

Love seemed to allude his spectrum of emotions and vocabulary. Yes, he shows you affection, buying expensive gifts, making sure you never lifted a finger for anything other than cleaning or cooking when needed, and proudly showing you off on his arm at parties and social events he attended.

Yes, he strived to hide his murderous tendencies, taking extra lengths to shield you from his ‘hunting’ escapades by planning them weeks before, and then going as far as discreetly cleaning his bloody clothes and weapons the night he returns while you slept soundly in your shared bed.

Alastor took great care in showing you he cared but defining his love for you was never addressed.

Not even on your wedding day.

It was as if he’d scripted his vows to say nothing of the emotion and even avoided saying “I love you” back when you’d accidentally let it slip out during your own speech for him.

You hadn’t pressed the issue at all, knowing Alastor struggled with concepts of intimacy and devotion since childhood, but the lmawing teeth of doubt pricked your skin harder with each passing day of your marriage.

Had you made a mistake agreeing to marry him?

Was he seeing someone else?

Someone knowledgeable of the world, maybe more experienced in life than you were, or more attentive?

Was she prettier?

Were you not his kind of woman?

Where did he go so late at night, at random times of the month, with a leather bag in his hand and a wide smile on his face?…

Had Alastor been seeing another woman for a whole year and you were just too oblivious or infatuated to notice?

Did he even like you anymore? Could he ever love you…?

Were you not enough for him?

Thoughts plagued your mind constantly, causing you to be quieter than usual, and less receptive to Alsstors lingering presence.

Your back was to him, giving a good veiw of your small frame as you cooked in the large kitchen. The familiar sight brought a smile to Alastor’s face. You were so focused, hair tied back by a white silk bow, and a sheer floor length robe to match.

He’d bough both for you only a week prior, claiming he couldn’t just let the items sit in the display window when you’d been staring at with such bright stars in your eyes, but in truth Alastor had imagined you wearing it just as you were now and couldn’t resist buying it on the spot.

Your husband remained silent as he watched you waltz around the kitchen, chocolate brown eyes peering over the top of his glasses as he did, but his smile faltering seeing the distress in your delicate features.

You weren’t the type to frown often, always emitting warmth and sweetness, so the rare appearance of anguish in your expression perplexed Alastor.

What had upset his darling wife?

Who would he have to kill?….

Asking what was troubling you would surely give him answers to both questions.

He stepped forward, coming from round the corner to enter the kitchen fully before striding over to stand by your side as you began to mix what he assumed was dessert in a bowl.

Albeit, he was probably right knowing you had a vicious sweet tooth.

“Strawberry cake I presume?” Alastor finally speaks, making his presence known with a cheeky remark, and you nearly jump out of your skin hearing his silky voice resonate around the room.

Your head snaps up to look at him, eyes wide with slight surprise, but they quickly soften as he smiles. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as he steps closer, initiating his usual habit of brushing a stray strand of hair from your face before kissing your temple gently, and only pulling away when you squeak out a greeting back to him.

“H-hi Al…you’re home a bit earlier than I expected…” you swallow thickly, staring at him adoringly for a moment before lowering your gaze as tinges of guilt build in you. “I’m sorry dinner isn’t quite ready yet…” you whisper, feeling shameful, and more agitated with yourself than before. Alastor had and would never berate you, unlike most men of the time he saw no benefit in treating his wife like a slave, and made an effort to remind you not everything had to be perfect.

“It’ s alright, darling. You needn’t rush yourself,” his voice is low, simmering with reassurance as he lifts your chin with his thumb and pointer finger. You smile nervously as your eyes meet his again, his touch firm and electrifying all at once, and your tummy doing several flips when he smiles back at you.

Alastor studies your face, attempting to pinpoint the source of your masked sadness, “You seem…troubled, sweetheart. Is there something wrong?” His genuine question brings a shock to your heart, tongue going numb as you race to think of a believable reason for your dampened mood, “I…I just had a little mishap with this cake batter is all!..”

You step away from him, turning to face the semi clean counter with a false air of cheeriness surrounding you. The fear of sounding needy and demanding while telling Alastor the truth keeps you from being honest with him outright.

Fake it.

I shouldn’t worry him with my insecurities or doubts…

It might push him further away…

The whisk in your hand spins in tight circles as you focus on mixing the overdone batter, beginning to thicken itself more than necessary as you kept going, using the task as a distraction from Alastor’s keen observance.

Something was wrong.

He was sure of it now.

His eyes narrowed behind the circular glasses, hands finding your waist as he came to stand behind you, allowing his chest to press against your back, and his head lowering to tuck into the crook of your neck.

A shiver racked your body as he exhaled a long, steady breath onto your skin. Your hands faltered, flurried movements becoming lax as you froze in his embrace, “When’d you start lying to me, ma chère…” Alastor mumbled into your ear. Every nerve in your body was on alert, shocked that he’d went much further than his usual bounds of physical affection, but pleasantly delighted he’d given it to you.

“M’ not lying,..”you try to uphold your lie through rising pants, tempted to moan quietly feeling his lips graze behind your ear, neck, and bare shoulder while your robe shifted lower. You weren’t certain if Alastor was inching it down by his own accord or your subtle squirming against him was to blame.

The ending result was the same either way. Your upper body gradually becoming exposed to his leering gaze and the cool air. Alastor hummed, the sound rumbling deep in his chest and flooding your mind repeatedly as he placed chaste kisses on your neck.

“I wish I could believe you, darling…” he chuckled lowly, hands inching towards the lace ribbon keeping your gown tied shut, and with one gentle tug he rendered the fabric useless. “Al..” you whined in slight surprise as he snatched the ribbon off, letting it unravel into a small pile on the tile floor before sliding his cold hands up the expanse of your heated torso.

Nothing.

You were wearing absolutely nothing underneath the thin robe and Alastor audibly groaned when he realized it.

Had you planned on this?

Were you just waiting for him to venture further with you?

All this time he’d watched you frolic and pace around your shared home, wondering what was hidden under you seemingly modest clothing….just to find you wore nothing at all…

Oh, what a rare occurrence it was for him to be such a blind fool.

Your hands flew to grasp Alastor’s wrists as he held you tighter, kneading your soft flesh lovingly, and taking his time to admire every dip and curve you had to offer him.

“Al…please..” you begged, visibly shuddering as he nipped at your neck and played with your breasts. “I won’t go any further until I hear the truth from that pretty mouth of yours, sweetheart…”

Damn it….you cursed yourself, slowly losing the will to think as his lips found the most sensitive area on your neck, bruising it with his tongue teeth until you whimpered and rushed out a jumbled explanation for your heavy mood.

“I…Imscaredyoudomtlovseme…th-that you d-don’t want me- Ahm…” you soft voice reached a new octave as your husband slid his free hand between your thighs to cup your mound, gingerly kicking your legs apart with a nudge of his foot against your own, and you tensed all over as he did so.

Fuck, he could definitely feel how desperate you were now, essentially a mess already without Alastor doing much of anything, and embarrassingly unable to control your arousal.

“Love, hm? That’s what’s troubling your precious mind?…” Alastor mulls over your confession, able to maintain his composure despite heat rushing straight through him to the head of his cock as he slid two fingers into your dripping cunt. You jolted from the sudden intrusion, head lulling back to rest on his shoulder as he pumped them in and out of you at a leisurely pace, curling his deft digits fowvard every so often to make you shiver.

His thumb found your clit, pressing defined circles into it as he began to ease your worries, “Love, ma chère, isn’t what I feel for you..” Alastor lets out a soft laugh, trying to calm his own mind before clarifying his vague statement all while pushing you near the edge of your first high.

“No….I feel much more than love for you, my dear. Devotion is a better term…obsession at times…” he admits the darker side of his affection through heavy breaths, cock twitching in his dress pants when you mewl in understanding. Your warm cunt suffocates his fingers for a moment, walls fluttering as the knot in your core threatens to undo itself, causing Alastor to sharply exhale from the inviting fluctuations.

Your lips parted to warm him of your impending orgasm but only a strained moan tumbled off your tongue. Alastor needed no other sign to tell if you were close, inwardly prideful he could make you come with ease.

“Go on, come undone for me , darling,” he insists in a hushed groan, his fingers stretching your walls in a fluid rhythm to drag your climax out, and you could’ve tumbled to the floor from the sheer intensity of the knot inside you snapping on his command.

Thankfully his taller frame kept you securely trapped between him and the counter that you soon found yourself sitting on the edge of after Alastor slipped his hand away from your throbbing cunt.

You watched with a dazed eyes as the older man licked a stripe of your cum off his fingers, brown eyes sliding shut as he let out a satisfied grunt before staring at your willing form perched on the counters edge.

The sight drew a his hidden hunger closer to the surface, toying with his self control as he took it in, and urging him to act on a primal instinct he’d only ever describe as “intense affection”.

Was that a flash of red in his eyes just now?

No , it couldn’t be…

You weren’t left much time to decipher the hungry glint in his eyes before Alastor reclaimed his position near you. His slender waist slotted perfectly between your thighs, the robe now draped off your back, and your hair gradually falling loose from its simple updo as his hands traced your sides.

“Love, sweet girl, is for lonesome fools…” Alastor pressed his forehead to yours, letting you chase his lips for one heated kiss after the next, and only denying you another to whisper against your soft and slightly swollen lips.

“Neither of us are alone or fools, correct?” He huffs as you nod slowly, bringing your hands up to undo his tie, and then proceeding to expertly unbutton his vest and dress shirt.

The general charm that Alastor maintained completely dissolved into pining under your gentle fingertips, an almost desperate shot of adrenaline consuming him as you peppered kisses along his jaw and neck.

If what he said was truly how he felt about you…it was enough to stamp out your doubts, allowing the adoring side of you he’d grown familiar with to resurface, “No…we aren’t,” you respond with a small smile.

He tips your chin up, placing a deep kiss on your lips as he shrugs his shirt and vest off, setting his glasses to the side as well before reaching for the leather belt on his waist.

You paid his actions no mind, busy with fighting his tongue for dominance, but admitted defeat quite fast as his wandered your mouth in expert fashion.

Your soft hands passed over his chest, moving up to tangle in his soft curls, gently tugging the strands to earn a groan from him. Alastor pulled back, a single line of spit connecting you two as he did so, and his hair falling in front of his eyes as he stared down into your tear glossed gaze, “You’re mine, ma chère. Til death and beyond…”

You nod, halfway coherent, but mustering the will to answer him with a content smile.

“Til death…” you repeat the phrase, mind reeling further from logical thinking as Alastor hummed hearing your dazed response, head nestled in your neck once more before he trailed open mouthed kisses down the expanse of your trembling frame. He brought himself as close as possible to you, smiling on your skin as you gasp quietly feeling his clothed erection press flush against your bare stomach, leaning further back in his hold embrace him better. You feared making a mess of the counter but as Alastor trailed his lips down your body and kneeled between your legs he gave one swift snap of his fingers to eliminate the obstacle entirely.

What?….How in the world did he do that?…

Your curiosity would’ve prompted you to ask him about the absurd occurrence if it weren’t for the anticipation rushing your blood as he came face to face with your cunt. “Alastor?…” you squeaked his name softly, attempting to close your legs when he sighed out a warm breath on your glistening folds, but he held them open using one hand with ease. The other resting steady on your waist, guiding you to lay back onto the cold marble countertop, and lingering there as you obeyed his wordless command.

“Good girl…” he praised, tone deepening as you whined quietly, the sound morphing into a loud moan as he lazily flicked his tongue over your slit once…twice…and a third time.

“More…” you pant in the midst of moaning, head craning to the side while your back arched and the urge to scream built in your chest as Alastor obliged your request with vigorous intent. He hummed melodically as your taste seeped onto his tongue, walls ever so sensitive as he explored them tirelessly, and a smirk playing on his lips as you writhed in pleasure.

Your face was soon flushed completely, eyes watering as they rolled slightly with each pass of his tongue over your cunt, and your small hands returning to tug at his soft brown hair. Another coil spiraled in your stomach hearing him groan in response, seeming to enjoy how roughly you pulled his hair, and his gaze drifting up for a split second to get a good view of your satiated state.

Seven hells….she looks even lovelier like this…

Alastor unconsciously drags you closer to his face, not caring at all when you lock your legs around his head and cry out from the borderline bruising hold he has on you now. “Oh god!…” you yelp, throwing him a bewildered glance before tossing your head back as he lapped at your clit like he’d starve to death without it, and the relentless attention to your bundle of nerves was the last thing you could comprehend before the knot unwinded itself.

Your vision blurred over, everything starting to spin as your cum gushed into his mouth, and the tears you were fighting to hide slid freely down your face as he downed every single drop your body offered.

It was all too much, the hunger in his eyes, his hold on you, and your high that never seemed to subside even as he broke away from your cunt with a satisfied smile on his face.

It was all too much at once….

Your head buzzed with euphoric afterthoughts, incoherency daring to cloud your senses entirely, but the sound of Alastor’s voice near your ear successfully halted the sensations long enough for you to comprehend what he was saying.

“You taste divine, ma chère…” his musing flusters you, a light shade of pink coating your cheeks as he dips his head to steal a kiss from you, “Al…” you sigh into his mouth, biting back a keen smile, and wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him near.

He chuckles hearing the unsteady tremor in your tone, adding onto his compliment after capturing your parted lips in another deep kiss, “I presume you’ll feel just as wonderful with me inside you, sweetheart…”

His assumption proved true. So much so that the moment his cock passed through your slippery folds a heavy groan of your name was the first and only thing he could manage to say. “Y/n….mon amor…” Alastor held you underneath him, not daring to move without completely relishing in the way your cunt wrapped around him first, and your broken moans dizzying the last bit of self control he was clinging onto.

You tried not to seem overwhelmed, with your legs wrapped around his waist, and your hands cupping his face to keep him as close as possible while your body adjusted to his size. With furrowed brows and a soft smile you praised your husbands well endowed length as he finally drew his hips back, leaving nothing but the head his cock resting in you.

“You…feel…s’good….” You whisper, breathless as he slams back in, swallowing your pleased cries with one tender kiss after the next. He tasted like you, hints of bourbon lingering on his tongue from the drink he’d poured himself before leaving the station, but your essence more prominent than ever.

All that he was, all that he did, and would ever do revolved around you.

His darling wife…

His one and only….

It showed through the sweet phrases he muttered against your lips as he took his time to please you, pace slow and deliberate, but the execution precise and cutthroat.

You weren’t sure when you’d raised your voice, crying out louder as he abused your sweetest spot continuously, and only going silent when a inaudible scream begged to leap from your chest while his cock bullied into cervix. Stars collected in your vision, hands clawing at Alastor’s back as you tried to hang onto reality for dear life, but failing miserably when he sped up his thrusts.

A subtle laugh passed his lips, eyes glinting with greedy lust as your head flew back, exposing all the love bites he’d left on your delicate skin, and the sight caused his cock to twitch inside you.

“F-fuck….Al!” Your eyes watered once more, sliding shut as a familiar pressure built in your core, rapidly gaining density the longer Alastor fucked into you.

He groaned at the sound of you shouting his name in such a twisted mix of ecstasy and anguish. Your soft voice becoming tainted with an edge he’d never imagined it could have. “Close already, my dear?..” he teased you, smile as smug as ever as he stood up straight, hands gripping either side of your hips, and his gaze lowering to where you two connected.

“Look…at…that…” he mused, suddenly slowing his thrusts to a painfully harsh pace, fixated on the way your cunt continuously creamed on his length. Alastor bit his tongue to keep from growling at the view, barely registering your whines and pleads for him to go faster.

“Al…Alastor…please..m’ begging you…please…” you felt your thighs shake as he continued his lazy strokes, clearly wanting to drag the ordeal out for his personal entertainment, and his lack of sympathy for your plight in that moment edged you even closer to cumming.

He knew it too…

That infamous grin on his face as he watched you resort to quiet sobs and desperate moans was a sure sign of the fact…

Alastor knew you needed him, loved him, lived for him..

“Please what, mon chere?” He bit his lip, unhooking your legs from around his waist to push them to your chest, giving his cock a new angle to stretch your cunt with.

You felt like passing out then, all strength evaporating from your body as he reached places inside you that surely didn’t exist before. His taunting didn’t make your dazed state any better, “Please, ruin you? Please, love you?… Let me hear you loud and clear, darling..”

Before you could register the words they flew from you mouth in a hushed flurry of need.

“Please…love me…fuck me like you love me…use me…I don’t care anymore…”

Alastor immediately rewarded your answer, wasting no time as his hips snapped into yours feverishly, flooding the kitchen with the sound of skin against skin.

“Lovely…” he cooed, voice thick with tension as he stared down at your overstimulated form, and within seconds of the praise slipping off his tongue you came undone. He followed shortly after, not caring to ask where you wanted his release, and you made no protest as the warm white liquid spilled inside you.

All you could do was stare, mouth falling open as he fucked his cum deeper, “It’s high time you became a mother, mon chere. You’d like that wouldn’t you?..” Alastor rambled, hardly coherent as his high coursed through him, but his statement crystal clear to you.

“Yes…” you whimper in response, walls clenching his cock as the thought of carrying his child sprung into your mind. “I’d love it…Al.”

His heart nearly stops as a genuine closed eye smile graces your face, a light blush painting your cheeks as he kisses them gently while gingerly slipping his softened cock out of your leaking heat. Alastor then lets your legs fall, lifting you to sit up straight on the counter again before wrapping his arms around your waist.

You hang onto him for balance, feeling entirely small in his grasp, and finding comfort in the embrace as exhaustion trickles in.

Alastor breathed in your sweet scent, beginning to pull your robe back on your tired form before reaching for his dress shirt. He was careful not to stir you away from his chest as he shrugged the clothing back on

“I’d love you and our child more than anything…” he nonchalantly mumbles, kissing the top of your head, and chuckling when your tied eyes go wide with undeniable hope.

“More than anything?…”

“Anything, my dear…” he repeats himself with a soft smile, bringing a hand up to push fallen strands of hair from your face.

That was when it occurred to you…

Alastor Hartiflet could love…

He’d always been able to….

And he loved you enough to share it with another…

How surreal….

xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxxx xxxxxx xxx

This entire 1st part was brought to you by the Great Gatsby movie soundtrack…❤️ you’re welcome… ;)

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

Actually it MIGHT BE 12 inches if we are being honest… ❤️ credits to creator.

#Spotify #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel alastor #human alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #alastor fluff #alastor hartfelt #alastor smut #alastor the radio demon #the radio demon #hard thoughts #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor x oc #alastor human

2K notes · View notes

lecsainz · 6 months

Note

Hi can you please do one about the Travis and Taylor rumours going around. Maybe like your Taylor’s sister dating Travis secretly for awhile now and your pregnant. And like the Taylor concert he went to he was like there with you and the football that Taylor went to she was like there with you. And it all comes out that he’s with you and not Taylor and they find out your pregnant and all and are so shocked and didn’t see it coming. Like if that makes sense 🙂

EVERYONE WAS WRONG

parings: travis kelce + swift!reader

author 🗒️’s: I missed writing smau 😭

summary: where you are taylor swift sister and there’s something with travis but everyone thinks he and taylor are dating.

✩. . . masterlist !

liked by selenagomez, icespice and 1.989.073 others

ynswift can I say I'm cheating on the eagles?

tag: @/taylorswift @/chiefs

see all 65.638 comments

taylorswift still can't believe you made me come to this game

⤷ ynswift didn't force you at all!

user6 love seeing the swift sisters together

killatrav It was nice meeting you, y/n

⤷ ynswift likewise, kelce

⤷ killatrav hope to see you girls at the next game

⤷ ynswift I need to check my schedule

user1 y/n being the cupid of tayvis

user Is it confirmed that taylor and travis are together???

⤷ user4 I think so

user2 she it's me in life: the friend who always couples people up

user5 andrea, please adopt me to be their sister!

⤷ ynswift mom said she'd adopt!

⤷ user5 OH MY GOD

philadelphiaeagles no comments

⤷ ynswift I swear we still loyal to your team

user7 I want a tayvis photo, make it happen y/n!

loading more comments . . .

Y/N and Travis had met during a The Eras concert, what seemed like a normal show turned into something entirely different. Y/N didn't expect it until she literally ran into this 6'5'' tall man. He was so much taller than her that she couldn't help but feel incredibly drawn to the unknown man, so much so that she forgot how to speak when he asked if she was okay.

Travis found the blonde girl utterly charming and just had to ask for her number. However, instead of getting her number, he received a polite but firm "no." That piqued the curiosity of the Kansas City Chiefs' tight end. With determination, he approached one of the security guards to inquire about the mysterious blonde girl. After a bit of investigating, he finally discovered that she was Y/N Swift, the younger sister of the famous Taylor Swift.

Travis couldn't help but be intrigued by this revelation. He felt compelled to get to know Y/N better, despite the initial rejection. It took him over a week to gather the courage to send her a direct message. When he did, he invited her to an Eagles game, which he later learned was the Swift family's favorite team, and having her older brother on the team made it easier to secure a private suite for their date.

As the two of them spent more time together, a genuine connection began to form. Y/N was captivated by Travis's charisma and his down-to-earth personality, something she hadn't experienced with anyone in a long time. Travis, on the other hand, was smitten with Y/N's intelligence, warmth, and her unique ability to make him forget about the pressures of the football field.

One date led to another, and before they knew it, they were deeply involved in a relationship that neither had anticipated. Their connection was electric, and they couldn't get enough of each other's company.

As the days turned into weeks and then into months, Y/N and Travis's bond grew stronger. They had shared dreams, inside jokes, and an unspoken understanding that went beyond the public eye. But their connection was shrouded in secrecy, as Y/N didn't want to overshadow her sister's fame and success.

Despite their efforts to keep things private, the media eventually caught wind of their relationship. Reports began to circulate, with speculations of a romance between Travis and Taylor Swift, not Y/N. The rumors hurt Y/N, as it seemed like her own life would always be overshadowed by her sister's immense fame.

Little did she know that amidst the media frenzy and the complications of their secret relationship, she would find herself facing an unexpected twist of fate – she was pregnant with Travis's child.

As days turned into weeks, Y/N couldn't keep the secret any longer. She knew she needed to tell Travis about the life-changing news, despite the fear and uncertainty that loomed over her. She had never been in a situation like this before.

One evening, she decided it was time to confide in Travis. With her heart pounding, she went to his house, her mind filled with thoughts of how he might react. Would he be overwhelmed? Would he want to be a part of this?

Travis opened the door and smiled warmly at her, inviting her in. Y/N took a deep breath and began, "Travis, there's something I need to talk to you about, something important."

Travis's expression shifted from curiosity to concern. "What's going on, Y/N? You look serious."

Y/N took a deep breath and began, "Travis, there's something I need to tell you. It's not easy, and we didn't plan for this, but..." She paused, her eyes glistening with emotion, "I'm pregnant."

For a few seconds, there was silence. Travis processed the information, and his eyes filled with a mix of emotions, but he didn't look away from Y/N. Then, a gentle smile crossed his face. "Y/N, are you serious? We're going to be parents?"

Y/N nodded with a soft smile. "Yes, Travis. I'm pregnant."

Travis leaned in closer, his face filled with emotion. "That's incredible! I can't believe it. I'm going to be a dad."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she saw his genuine excitement. "I'm so glad you're happy, Travis. I was worried about how you'd react."

Travis took her hands in his and looked deeply into her eyes. "Y/N, I couldn't be happier. This is a beautiful surprise, and I'm looking forward to this journey with you. We'll figure everything out together."

Y/N felt a wave of relief wash over her. She couldn't believe how supportive Travis was being. "Travis, you have no idea how much this means to me. I was so afraid to tell you."

Travis took her hand and said, "Y/N, I care about you more than I can express. In fact, there's something I've been wanting to ask you for a while now." He got down on one knee, pulling a small box from his pocket. "Will you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend?"

Y/N's eyes welled up with tears of joy as she nodded and replied, "Yes, Travis, a thousand times, yes."

liked by taylorswift, annehathaway and 23.366.133 others ynswift & killatrav you said I do and I did too

comments have been limited

taylorswift so happy for you both 🤍 and travis you better take good care of my little sister!

austinkingsleyswift congrats sis!

jason.kelce finally, you guys announced it! I couldn't stand not being able to talk about it anymore. congratulations lovebirds!

chiefs welcome to chiefs family y/n!

donnakelce I'm so happy to have you in the family now y/n! 💕

922 notes · View notes

runningfrom2am · 5 months

Note

Hi, how’s your day been going? Hoping it was amazing. I just saw your post about needing inspo for Coriolanus fics! I’m not sure if you are taking requests but if you are Could you maybe do a touch-starved Coryo fic? Something fluffy/angsty where Coryo can finally fulfill those needs and be himself and vulnerable with the reader. Thanks!

as long as you need me - c.s

pairing: coryo x fem!reader

wc: 1.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, he just needs you and you just want to help.

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav / coriolanus snow masterlist

a/n: ahhh thank you for sending this in! it was so fun to write like stopppp i just want to give him a hug omg. also thought i'd post this to hold y'all off until i post the next part of LTPF. anyway, enjoy!

You had a very stable grasp of the limits of your relationship. What was appropriate, and what was not. You were quite shy, and Coryo always carried himself with a high level of decorum. You would eat together at lunch, and he would walk you home most days. The weekends, your study dates, were always your favourite. He was significantly more relaxed, but you could still tell he was just a little tightly wound. By now, you've just learned that's who he is. Not overly affectionate, but he cares for you and you care for him.

"I can't stay late today, I'm sorry." You said, genuinely feeling bad for having to turn down the request. In your junior year, you started tutoring for younger grades at the academy and it is something you thoroughly enjoyed.

"I have a test tomorrow! Why can't you stay? Just for a few minutes- I just have a couple of questions." The first year, Aelia whined.

"My boyfriend is supposed to walk me home and he has a tight schedule, but I'll tell you what, I can meet you in the library in the morning before class. That way it will still be fresh in your mind, yeah?" You grinned, and she seemed satisfied as you agreed on a time, not knowing that a few of the girls in your grade were listening in.

"Y/N," Clemensia decided to approach you as Aelia walked off, Arachne and Livia following close behind. "Did I catch you telling someone that you have a boyfriend? Did I hear that right?"

"Oh, well, yes." You answered sheepishly, gathering your things to put in your bag before your next class.

"Really?" Livia chimed in, and you just nodded. "Okay, well, spill. Who is it? Do I know him?"

"Um..." You looked around, deciding what to say. You weren't necessarily keeping it a secret, but you just hadn't felt the need to tell anyone you went to school with. "It's Coriolanus. Snow." You cleared your throat, unsure why you even added his last name. It's not like the name Coriolanus was abundantly common.

"Shut up." Clemensia laughed slightly, eyes widening at you. "You're joking, right?"

"No... We've been together for almost seven months now."

"I just... wow. We had no idea. Seven months! I feel like I've never seen the two of you get closer than two feet apart." You weren't sure whether to interpret this response as teasing or genuine shock- so you just gave them an awkward smile and a small nod before walking away.

At the time, you had never considered how your lack of affection in public could be confusing to people- not that it mattered. Rumors had spread quickly after that, which was to be expected when Livia and Arachne were involved. However, PDA just wasn't your thing. General displays of affection weren't really your thing, either. Both of you always had a lot going on, and having been together for almost a year by now, you knew that you loved him and he loved you. You didn't have to prove it to each other or to anyone, there was no pressure for anything to change. On your end, anyway.

Coryo, on the other hand, was feeling something shift. Leading up to the reaping and more importantly, to the prize. You both were in the running, being in the top twenty-four of your class, and you had no doubt that Coryo was a shoo-in, but you didn't know how extremely anxious it was making him. The now constant thrumming of his heartbeat in his chest and his shaky hands were always less around you, and he can only dream of how much better it would be if he could just hold you.

These days, he'd wake up expecting you in his arms due to a particularly calming dream only to be disappointed. He respected you a great amount and wouldn't want to push your boundaries, however unspoken. Still, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go about his day-to-day without testing his theory that holding you could cure his fears, or at least let him forget about them for only a moment. He would happily take just a second of peace.

Coriolanus usually greeted you outside of your unshared classes, seeing that you tended to stay a few minutes late to ask questions or polish off your notes. He couldn't wait to see you, he needed to.

"Coryo." You smile, walking out of your lecture hall to see him waiting.

"Hi, Love. How was class?" Your boyfriend greets you, joining you on your walk towards the exit of the school.

"It was good. Though, I find the topic of the rebellion kind of redundant at this point." You say, books tucked against your chest under folded arms. "Is it not too soon to discuss it in a history class? I mean, I literally remember what it was like to live in a bomb shelter."

Your joke seemingly lands on deaf ears as he just hums, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you out of the building. This wasn't totally unusual, but with the way he was pushing you, albeit gently, was telling you that something was wrong.

"Is everything okay?" You ask him, looking up at the boy next to you as you reach the bottom of the academy's front steps.

"Fine." Coryo nods, attempting a reassuring smile that he isn't aware falls short.

"Okay, well... If you want to talk about anything, I'm here for you, you know. Always."

"I know. Thank you, Love." He drops his hand from your back to hold your free one, turning in the direction of your apartment.

The next afternoon, you're in the same class, one of the rare ones you don't share with Coryo, taking down notes from the lecture when there's a knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. You pay no mind, taking the opportunity to catch up on everything written on the board.

"May I borrow Y/N, please?" Your boyfriend's voice is scratchy and shakey in a way unfamiliar sounding to you, making your head snap up. You'd never seen him cry before. "Only for a moment."

Your teacher dismisses you, likely on account of your and Coriolanus's mutually spotless records and his red-rimmed eyes. Clearly, you were needed urgently. You leave your bag and your books, ignoring the whistles and heckling of some of your classmates as you rush to the door.

Coryo had reached his breaking point. He was writing his third paper of the week, unable to focus on that and get his mind off of how unlikely it was he would get the prize if the Dean had any say. Sitting in the library, the world had started turning around him. People were talking, laughing, even, and he couldn't take it anymore. The floodgates opened and he had rushed out of the room. He couldn't go home, his attendance would be affected and he'd be throwing away the prize most definitely. He had nowhere to go, except for to you.

You close the door behind yourself, thankful that the hallway is completely deserted during class time. "Hey, what's going on?" You ask, and before you can get a good look at him he's pulling you into a crushing hug, shaking around you.

You're shocked for a moment, pulling yourself out of your head to hug him back. Whatever is bothering him must be bad. He'd hugged you before, but never like this. "Hey, it's okay..." You whisper, rubbing his back. "Let's go outside for a second, yeah? Get some air?" You offer, gently prying yourself from his grasp to look at him.

Coryo can't speak, overtaken completely by the tears flowing down his cheeks and the anxiety flooding every inch of his body. He feels like he could be sick, all he knew that he needed was you. He just nods, trying to regain his composure, if only for the couple of minutes it takes to get outside.

"Okay. Let's go." You smile, trying not to show how worried you are as you wrap an arm around his back, still holding him close to you as if he has a broken ankle and you have to carry him. So far, his theory was proving to be correct. Just having you at his side was calming to him, and mentally he's cursing himself for not voicing his fears to you before they broke him.

As soon as the door of the rarely used back exit to the school is closed, he's essentially collapsing onto the ground, tucking his knees up to his chest and crying into his hands. You're quick to join him, draping an arm over his back and trying to grab one of his hands to hold. Your brow is knit with worry, rubbing his shoulder as he allows you to take one of his shaking hands. "Coryo..." You say softly, trying to get him to look at you but he won't. "What's happening? Talk to me, you can trust me. I just want to help."

He sniffles, looking up at you. "What is it?" You ask again, hoping to prompt any kind of information out of him. When he doesn't answer, you curve your approach to yes or no questions, hopefully, to make it easier on him. "Is someone hurt? Is it Grandma'am? Did something happen?"

He shakes his head slightly with every question, once again avoiding your eyes as he looks down at the ground, occasionally trying to cough out the knot in his throat.

"...Do you want to talk? Or do you just need a hug?" You realize, leaning in so he would look at you again.

He pulls you closer, wrapping both his arms around you awkwardly due to the way you are both sitting. "Just need you here." He mumbles, hardly audible as he buries his face in your shoulder and neck.

Relieved to hear his voice again, you place a hand on his hair and on his back, holding him tight. "I'm here, Coryo. As long as you need me."

taglist: @keziahcore, @soulessjourney, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @rororo06, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @slytherinholland, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @darlingisntit, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world,

#tbosas #tbosas fic #thg series #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #coryo x reader #snow lands on top #the hunger games #tom blyth

1K notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 7 months

Text

Bakugo Wants a Reward for Having a Higher Score Than You

Paring: Pro Hero!Bakugo Katsuki x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, fingering, kissing, bully romance, possessiveness, grinding, mention of a hard on, name calling, coming in pants, marking, finger sucking

A/N: Pro Hero Bakugo would 100% hold his placement over your head.

As always, Bakugo knew he'd be a few spots higher than you, and as such his smug grin never left his face, "Can't handle a little competition? Hardly competition for me but you could use it if you wanna catch up. What? Got mad?" He follows you all the way to the main break room, hands in his pockets and that high and mighty walk of his

Possessive and a little bit protective he will scare off anyone else who tries to bully you

Its a weird thing to see Bakugo stand up for you but he always says it's cause you can't do it by yourself

"Don't matter how high you are, you're still below me. Isn't that right? Oh? An attitude with me? Think that's smart?" He scowls at you as he walks you back against the wall, eyes lowering to your skirt, "Wearing that for the award ceremony? At least I had the sense to wear a suit. Why'd you put this on I wonder?"

His thigh slotted perfectly between your legs, the material of your panties slowly getting wet from the friction and pressure applied to your clit

Lower lip caught between your teeth you were able to muffle some of the noise but not all

"Ease of access for me. I appreciate that." His grin spread across his whole face, you wanted to slap it away but you couldn't do anything but grab at his tie and shoulder when you felt his fingers drop under the line of your underwear, spreading your wetness around

Your mouth dropped open in pleasure, the smallest moans falling from your lips, "All this for me. Does it excite you to get fingerfucked by someone so skilled? I'm the best you're ever gonna get, you know that right, you little bitch?"

Your legs spread for him and you found yourself grinding down against his palm, trying to get more friction on your clit

Bakugo wasn't having any of that, "You ain't in no position to take control. When you come it's gonna be because I allow it." His leg moved yours to the side more, panties down your legs, catching drops from his two rough fingers now pushing in and out of your needy cunt

Not that you needed to tell him you needed him, the lustful look in your eyes was more than enough, but a low grunt of his name and an admition of fucking good he is to you still left your mouth

There was a brief look of shock on his face, something almost no one can see, but it was gone just as fast, replaced by his lips on your, "Think I don't know how well I fuck you? Fell what you do to me?" He moved his fingers out of the way and pushed his bulge between your legs instead, "It's hard cause of you. You should feel honored that a Pro like me has any interest in a loser like you." His words were much too harsh for the types of hot, passionate kisses he gave you, moving his head to the side to get his tongue in as deep down your throat as possible but then planting a few quick ones when he moves back for air

He was indeed as hard as a rock, hot as lava and grinding against you at the perfect angle

Your panties were moved to the side, "Leaving my clothes on, can't be giving you my cock when you didn't earn it." His cock as your reward, fuck, it was already good but, inside you it might be too much for your brain to handle

Needing him this badly, wanting to turn around and be fucked by him was wrong but your brain and your pussy weren't on the same page

"You should really learn to shut up when I tell you to. Why do I need to do everything?" His slick covered fingers pushed into your mouth, making you moan at your own taste somehow tasting sweeter on his fingers, "If you like it that much on my fingers imagine how good it'll be when you're cleaning my dick."

Your body went slack with white hot pleasure coiling and finally snapping at your core, only you were left empty, pussy clenching around nothing

Silenced by Bakugo's fingers you could only pull him closer by his tie, hold his head close and ride his clothed cock until he let out a string of curses, leaving a wet spot of his own on his pants

"Damn, need to clean these up." You looked at him wide eyed, stunned by how smug, yet casual he seemed about just making you come all over his pants, "Did you really think I'd risk being late for my own award for the likes of you?" He laughed as he pulled away and cleaned his fingers with his tie, "Tell you what," Bakugo leaned in close, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine again, "I'll let you suck my dick after, that will be your prize. And mine. Loser."

708 notes · View notes

delfiore · 8 months

Text

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (1/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: you were ona’s biggest headache at man united, until you both move to barcelona.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i’ve been watching the men’s game for years but i’ve finally sobered FINAL TODAY LET’S GO ENGLAND LET’S GO SPAIN (MOSTLY SPAIN)

PART II, PART III, PART IV, PART V

It started four years ago when Ona first signed for United. She didn’t notice at first the way you were always gunning for her, she was just doing her job.

But now, you were here in Barcelona with her. As she looked up at you, a soft smile on your face, everything she had buried in the past year all came rushing back.

Everyone was aware of the new signing from the States for her rival club just a couple of weeks before, a dragged-out saga of whether you were going to choose City or United. Unfortunately for her, you chose the Sky Blues.

If things had been different, maybe she wouldn’t have despised you as much as she did.

The first Manchester derby you played, she thought marking you would be easy until you dribbled past her several times to register a goal and assist. She must have been glowering at you when she walked back to the midfield line, because you shrugged before grinning at her, saying: “All in a day’s work.”

“Could I just ask what put Man City above all the other contenders for your signature?” “Well, I mean, it’s a great club with a great history, amazing players too. I’ve spoken at length with the new manager and he gave me a rough plan for next year’s project. So I’m really excited and confident that it’ll be a great destination for me.” “What do you say to the people who think you’ve chosen City for the money?” “People can think whatever they want to think. I’ll just play my game, and they can judge me all they want. It’s all anyone’s good for.” “You’ve just transferred from Portland, you’ve got an enormous price tag for the women’s game, tons of big clubs in Europe wanted you. There’s a mounting pressure on you, it seems. Do you think you’ll be up for the challenge of the Women’s Super League?” “It’s no fun if it’s not a challenge.”

Ona Batlle was what people considered a modern full-back, dangerous in attack just as she was solid in defense. But when playing against Man City, she usually has to stay back to avoid a dangerous winger finding their way into the box; you. It wasn’t her way of playing, and it frustrated her that that was what her role was while her team was struggling to create chances, especially when she knew she could help.

“I want you to stay back and mark Y/L/N. Whatever you do, do not let her out of your sight,” Casey had told her.

She hated you for caging her in, and the worst part was she wasn’t sure if she can stop you sometimes.

The night before her next game against you, she watched how you played the previous match, studied your movement carefully, and took notes. She liked that she had found a pattern. You liked to use your speed, but you also liked to taunt your defenders; a pace of prime Thierry Henry’s, and showboating tendencies like that of Neymar. It’s why you were so entertaining to watch, because every defender you faced ended up a sort of decoration to your parlor tricks, her included.

Ona never liked being second best to anybody, and certainly not to you.

And so when she was on the pitch, zeroing on you like a hawk, there was nothing stopping her from getting away from you. She didn’t need to resort to any risky challenges, she just needed to stick with you, keep you at arm’s length, and stay between you and the goal at all costs.

You may be a skilled player for your age, but controlling your temper is something you haven’t been able to achieve. She heard you cursing a few times, eventually earning you a yellow card when your insults were directed at the referee.

The ball had only left the City’s goalkeeper, Roebuck, yet she already felt you pushing back against her.

The game ended 3-1 for United, but she was secretly much happier that she had managed to piss you off so much, that you didn’t bother shaking hands with her afterwards.

“Congratulations, Ona. A huge victory for United. What do you think went well today?” “I think that our plans worked because we practiced and showed what we’re able to do. We didn’t have a lot of possession, but we focused on the counterattacks, and I think that definitely was a very effective tactic today.” “I have to ask you about Y/N Y/L/N. She’s been a formidable player in the league until now, and notoriously difficult to defend against, but she was practically silenced today on the left-hand side. Do you think you had something to do with that?” “I think what I’ve prepared in defense has worked out, for sure. I’ve also got my teammates to thank for covering the grounds for me. Y/L/N is a good player, and it’s always a joy to play against her.”

Her rivalry with you continued, and soon even the press was picking up on it. Manchester derbies now included Y/L/N v. Batlle, and everyone was predicting what crazy thing would happen next. It wasn’t common for defenders to make waves in the paper compared to superstar strikers or even midfielders unless they were linked with a big move. But soon Ona was reading about herself in the news, how she has defended Manchester United’s left wing with an iron grip, how they started calling her la matadora, for her ability to hold off forwards and tame them like bullfighters do.

One bull remained to be tamed though, and her conundrum continued into her second season at United.

Unlike her, you seemed to take the new breath of fame easily enough. Day in and day out, there were news of you scoring goals and bringing Man City to the top of the table by November.

You were born to be a star.

But Ona knew from shooting stars in the game that burned out too quickly; if you let what’s outside the pitch get to you, you might as well just leave it altogether. You might have been a good player, on your way to becoming a great one even, but you did have a flare for the dramatics which riled up the press quite a bit. If she was lucky, maybe the pressure would take you out of the game before she does.

International breaks were times she always look forward to, being able to represent her country. Even if they were friendly matches, she knew Spain was always being watched, as a team’s form was important on the world stage. The team would play two friendly matches, the first one being against Brazil and the other against the United States. Some friendly fixtures . . .

Brazil was a breeze, mainly because she wouldn’t have to face her biggest adversary. Naturally, you were called up to your national team, and the back-and-forth game persisted.

She had played against you many times at club level, but the way you played for your country was something else. There was more passion to the way you weave your way through defenders, more flare to your shots. It could also be the adrenaline of being called up for the first time, and wanting to prove yourself—she knew that feeling well.

It didn’t come as a surprise, then, that when a long ball was played over the defense line and Marta Cardona was on her way towards goal, you’d be there to strike her down right at the edge of the box. Her teammates appealed, and the referee paused the game, but all Ona saw was red. With a speed she didn’t know she had in her, she sprinted to you and shoved you away as you were bending down in a show of checking on Marta.

“What was that?! You could have broken her ankle, cabrona!”

“Watch it.”

You had never seen her so angry before—her jaw locked as she continued to hurl insults at you. If she wasn’t your mortal enemy maybe you could have found it attractive. So you pushed back, and soon both your teammates and hers crowded around you, trying to separate you. Kelley put her arm around your neck and walked away, telling you to “keep your cool, this is only a friendly”.

Never, you thought. Never while I’m playing against her.

You apologized to Marta eventually, and she was cool with it. “Heat of the moment”, she said, and you were grateful. You never meant to hurt anyone. Sometimes you just couldn’t control your adrenaline spike.

As expected, Ona didn’t even look at you after the match. So you went home with Marta.

The next morning at breakfast, Ona heard laughing from the girls surrounding Marta.

“How was your American late-night snack, Marta?” Leila laughed.

The girl only shook her head with a grin. “It was delicious, alright.”

Ona didn’t know what that twisted feeling in her gut was when she heard what Marta said, as she walked back to her hotel room after breakfast. She just knew that as long as she was alive, you were the most despicable person she knew.

ESPN: Y/L/N-Batlle Feud Continues, Bonmatí Controls Midfield in Spain-USWNT Clash “LOS ANGELES -- Thursday night saw a friendly match between Spain’s women's national team and the USWNT at the Snapdragon Stadium that ended in a 2-2 draw. Several debutants started for both teams, including Man City powerhouse Y/N Y/L/N. After a stunning cross into the box from the left for Mallory Pugh to tap in, a dangerous slide tackle on Marta Cardona ensured Y/L/N to be the heart of a confrontation between several players, including Ona Batlle. It seems their club rivalry persists as they were seen giving each other a very clear piece of their minds, and several clashes succeeded the Cardona tackle. It would have been a good performance for both if not for the slip of attitude. One thing is clear, though; the mentality is there, and it sure is entertaining to watch. […]”

The end of the season was fast approaching, and while you had become a thorn in her side, it came to a point in which she would not think about you until a week before a clash. This one in particular was crucial in the race for a Champions League spot that both Manchester clubs were vying for. She knew what it meant for the club to secure a UCL spot for the first time, and you were not about to ruin it for her.

Tooney and Millie invited her out for dinner the night before the derby, but she turned them down, opting for a quiet night in instead. After a few hours, however, she suddenly felt antsy, the anticipation before the game nipping at her. It was only 7pm when she checked and she decided to go for a run. She followed the familiar path she always takes to the nearby park, and she was glad she did because the sun was going down, leaving a glorious trail of orange in the sky. She loved these peaceful moments, away from adrenaline, away from the constant pressure, away from constantly having to push herself or she’d be called ‘lazy’.

A constant huffing sound appeared next to her, and when Ona looked down she saw an adorable corgi looking up at her while wagging its tail.

“Hello,” she bent down and pet the dog. Loving the attention, the little corgi jumped up in an attempt to lick her face, to which she let out a laugh.

“Bratwurst! Come back here!” She heard a voice call in the distance, which she assumed must have been the owner. “Sorry, he loves people.”

Ona looked up, and her face dropped. You did the same, standing frozen in front of her. Bratwurst was jumping up and down before you, probably excited that he received pets from someone else today.

She had never seen you in plain clothes before. You clearly knew how to dress yourself, because she might have admitted that you looked good if she didn’t hate you so much. But it was difficult to see you as anything else other than Y/N Y/L/N, Manchester City winger, and potentially Golden Boot winner this season by the looks of it.

And yet, she sat down on a nearby bench with you anyway, watching Bratwurst stick his butt in the air, attempting to catch a squirrel.

“I named him Bratwurst ‘cause he’s . . . long, you know?” You chuckled. ”Short form is Brat too, that’s kinda funny.”

In a sea of northern Englishmen, she never got to hear your American accent properly as she’d only heard you speak no more than two words to her, and most of the time they weren’t pleasant.

“How do you have time to own a dog?” She asked.

“He’s a foster. I just got him a couple of weeks ago.” You looked down at your fingers. “It’s nice to have him to come home to.”

The conversation died down, and suddenly Ona felt like this was a mistake. Maybe she should just leave, and continue her run. But she saw a different side to you—a gentler, quieter side unlike the boastful player she knew you as—and she wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not.

“Are you planning on adopting him permanently?”

“Maybe. I just want to make sure that I’m settled before making him move.”

You leaned back, placed your arm on the bench, and closed your eyes.

“You don’t want to stay in Manchester?”

“I don’t know yet. Why, would you be happy if I did?” You smirked, and she saw a glimpse of that player again.

Yes. “Your presence doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t bring me any joy either.”

“Just face it, Batlle.” You turned your body to her. “I get under your skin, don’t I?”

Ona blinked, her jaw clenching. “You don’t intimidate me, Y/L/N. You might be used to people bowing at your feet, but I won’t let you walk all over me. We will win tomorrow, and you might think to show some respect for others in the game.”

“Sorry, Batlle, can’t let you win. We’re playing Champions League next season.” You really enjoyed taunting her.

Ona huffed and stood up. As she walked away, she heard you call out to her. “See you on the pitch tomorrow, la matadora!”

There was nothing you could ever do to make yourself less hateful in her eyes.

It was matchday, kick-off time. Ona saw you on the other side of the midfield line. “Remember what you came here to do, and finish the job,” Marc had told them in the dressing room. He was right. She had a job to do, and she wasn’t about to let you ruin that for her.

They were to play with a high line today, which required Ona to stay near the midfield line and run back, should a forward slip through. About halfway through the first half, she had a startling realization; you were dropping back too, playing a number-10 role. It meant that she couldn’t do what she did last time you met, because there would be a gaping hole where she covers.

United was leading 1-0 by halftime, and while they had the advantage, the fight was far from over.

“Okay, ladies. Have a drink and take a seat,” Marc stood at the front of the dressing room. “We’re doing good, we’re holding them off. Keep up the pressure.”

Ona sat back to catch her breath. You were much more versatile than she thought, and maybe that was her mistake for underestimating you. It seemed too easy that you were giving her exactly what she wanted, playing high at the flank like she always does. There was more to it, but she needed to adapt.

Ona held your gaze for a moment across the field. You weren’t giving up. It seemed you were confident enough in whatever wicked plan you still had up your sleeve, that you sent her a smirk back.

It was the 70th minute of the game and they were so close to achieving it. Katie was looking for a pass, so Ona made herself available.

There was empty space near the side of the box, and she wanted to utilize it but it meant having to get past a couple of defenders.

“Vilde! 1, 2!” She called, passed the ball to her teammate, and started running. Her momentum was halted when Vilde’s ball was cut off and instantly launched forward.

The counterattack came so quickly, it must have been what you practiced. 1-1.

Suddenly, the tides have shifted. The momentum was with City. Time was running out, and the sudden goal disoriented her team. It took about five minutes for everyone to get their head back into the game, but Ona could tell City were used to having possession by then.

And then, in the 88th minute, you were given the ball from the left. Everyone except Alessia had dropped back to defend a series of dangerous balls up until now. You didn’t have anyone to pass to without getting intercepted, and you were outside of the box. So you took the shot. She watched helplessly as the ball flew past Mary into the top right corner.

1-2.

Ona’s body ran cold as she watched you celebrate with your teammates.

When the final whistle came shortly after, she collapsed on her knees.

Some of her teammates were there to console her, but she let their comfort pass through her. She needed to break something.

She needed to get away from everyone and found a spot near the bathrooms where she could catch her breath. Her boots were dangling from her hand by the laces. She slumped against a wall and began to cry, the boots clattering next to her on the floor.

It wasn’t that she was sad to have lost—she blamed herself for letting you get to her head. The interaction of the day before got her thinking what ifs. What if we didn’t meet under these circumstances? What if I could have just gotten to know you without wanting to rip your head off every time I see you?

You heard quiet sobs down the hallway and knew it was her. You had quickly gone into the tunnel when you didn’t see her anywhere on the pitch, but you certainly weren’t expecting to see her cry.

“Batlle?” You called.

She didn’t seem to notice you, sitting against the wall and wiping her face with her shirt.

“Hey, it’s okay.” That was a stupid thing to say considering you just beat her out of a Champions League spot, of course it’s not okay.

“I’m really not in the mood,” she said, looking away.

“You did good out there,” you said, watching her anxiously.

“Don’t act like you care,” she sniffled. “You got what you wanted.”

“I’m not as heartless as you think, Ona.” You quipped back. “I’m not sorry that we won, but I am sorry that you’re hurt.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” She sobbed and glared at you. It sent a chill down your bones. “I wish we had never met.”

How do you tell her that you never meant for things to go this way? That every word you had ever said to her didn’t stem from malice but from fear? You had wished to push her away so that you don’t collide with her head-on. How do you tell her that no matter how hard you tried, you still gravitated toward her?

“I’m sorry.” You repeated, like a fool.

She was hurting because of you.

You snuck a glance at the form of the girl in front of you, like you would be penalized if you were caught looking at her. You took a step back to go, but she held onto your arm and pulled your body against her.

You had been fantasizing about having your mouth against her for months, usually in absurd circumstances, like you two making out in a bed of roses or you giving her a kiss after she, a masked superhero, saved you from danger. Never like this, muscles aching, sweat coating your foreheads, wearing your respective uniforms—being so you doing this.

You wanted to enjoy it. Her lips were soft and salty, and she might have secured you by the waist against her. Your knees trembled as you sighed into her lips, pushing her against the wall gently. Your hesitancy soon turned into hunger, as you pressed your body into hers, desperate to feel her.

Murmurs in the distance snapped you out of it. “Where’s Ona?” You made out one of the voices saying.

You looked back at her, your faces just inches away. You never noticed, but she had so many beautiful freckles adorning her face.

“Ona—“ You said, but she quickly picked up her boots and left towards the voices.

Chest heaving and head spinning, you slumped against the wall with a small grin, bringing your fingers up to touch your lips where she had been.

“Where have you been?” Keira asked in the dressing room, but you just shook your head.

“Just to the bathroom.”

Sky Sports: Man City’s Talisman Y/N Y/L/N Nets Stunning Late Goal Against Man United To Secure UWCL Spot […]

a/n: this gif is so y/n and ona coded

#ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #ona batlle imagines #ona batlle #woso #woso x reader #woso imagines #wwc23 #spain wnt #man united women

1K notes · View notes

loserdiaz · 18 days

Text

seven sentence sunday!

tagged by the lovelies @devirnis @bidisasterbuckdiaz @daffi-990 @bekkachaos @wikiangela

“I just feel we don't hang out as much as we used to.” Eddie murmurs quietly. So quiet Buck almost misses it. “You're always with Tommy, which is— good. You deserve to be happy. And if he makes you happy, then that's… good. It's good.”

Buck wants to argue and say he doesn’t go on dates with Tommy. He did, twice. And then that ended and now sometimes they hang out and Tommy gives him flying lessons or invites him for a drink— most of the time they fuck in Buck’s apartment and then watch whatever's on Netflix and drink beer. Not exactly romantic..

Eddie probably doesn't want to hear any of that, though, and Buck isn't sure how to begin to explain it. Why is it that he doesn't go on dates with Tommy? Why doesn't he want to go on dates with this perfectly fine and nice man that seems like a good match for Buck on paper.

Yeah, that's a Pandora Box Buck isn’t particularly keen on opening over the phone at two in the morning with Eddie drunk on the other line.

“Okay?”

“But I miss you. Miss spending time with just you.”

“I thought you liked Tommy.”

“It's not that I don't like him, it's just—”

“Okay, stop.” Buck snaps and then immediately softens his voice. “Tell me where you are so we can have this conversation in person.”

Eddie mutters something unintelligible under his breath.

“What was that?”

Eddie sighs and Buck can picture it so well, as good as if Eddie were right in front of him and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration and embarrassment. “I'm at The Sanctuary.”

Buck literally hears a disco scratch in his head. “Y-you're at a gay bar?”

tagging (no pressure): @underwater-ninja-13 @father-salmon @spotsandsocks @the-likesofus @eddiebabygirldiaz @exhuastedpigeon @excuseme-greentea @giddyupbuck @bigfootsmom @bi-buckrights @hippolotamus @spaceprincessem @rogerzsteven @saybiwithme @thewolvesof1998 @maygrantgf @loveyouanyway @wildlife4life @fortheloveofbuddie @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @athenagranted @wikiangela @jesuisici33 @daffi-990 @actualalligator and anyone else who wants to do it <33

#my writing #evan buckley #eddie diaz #jealous eddie #buddie #buck x eddie #911 fic #buddie fic #911 wip #my wips #buddie wip #911 abc #911 on abc

238 notes · View notes

moonlight1110 · 2 months

Text

My Best Friend, König

bestfriend!König x reader ; college!au

Your best friend, the person you trust the most in the world to protect you, and most importantly, be there for your needs <3

Tags: afab!reader, König x reader smut, throat fucking, blowjobs n shit, smut to fluff, far from canon König, quick read, college!au, secret lovers, aftercare, no german aside from the petnames bc i dont wanna embarrass myself, not proofread

Notes: exams are done so i can finally shake sum asss 😩, i have so many ideas i wanna write for simon and konig im going insane, but expect that in the next few days or weeks, love yall <3

You were always known as the loud mouth. The most bubbly person anyone's ever met, and it was often meant as a compliment. You always knew how to light up a room the moment you walked in and it just seemed like no one ever had anything bad to say about you.

It seemed like you were able to catch anyone's eye, and that was reflected by the amount of attention you got whenever you would walk around campus. Turning heads and whispers followed you whenever you went, and that was especially true in your classes. But with your extroverted nature, it was a question in everyone's mind why your best friend was the total opposite of you.

König was your best friend, it was like you were both attached at the hip with how you never went anywhere without him to the point that people thought you were a couple. You two would debunk these rumors of course but that just showed how close you two were.

König was quiet, introverted, and intimidating, he was like the perfect bodyguard and that was one of the reasons you loved being around him, because of how safe he made you feel and how he always made sure you were okay, of course it was natural that you'd return the favor.

"K-König... Wait..." A soft moan slips past your lips, you can't hold it in with how good König was fucking you on his tongue right now. He chuckles, humming against your weeping cunt as he pinned your hips down on the mattress, one hand digging into the flesh of your hip as the other rubbed circles right on your twitching clit.

"You want me to stop, meine Schatz?" His voice dripped with desire and cockiness, knowing he was the only one who could see you in such a vulnerable and fucked out position with your legs trembling and draped over his shoulders as he ate you out and fucked you open on his tongue and fingers.

"No... No, don't stop!" you cried out helplessly, tugging at his hair. He growled, sliding his tongue out from your cunt with a satisfied moan from the pressure building in his scalp.

"On your knees, let me fuck that pretty mouth, meine Liebe..." He groaned, gently pulling your hand away from his hair and kissing your palm as he led you off the bed and on your knees in front of him, making space for you between his legs as he stroked himself in front of you. Up and down, slowly.

He was big and it made your mouth water as you inched closer on your knees. You couldn't help the small gasp that slipped when you slowly wrapped your delicate fingers around him.

"That's it... You know what to do..." He chuckled, intertwining his fingers with your hair to encourage you while he looked down at you with a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Scheiße... Such a good fucking girl..." König's voice seemed to deepen at the feeling of your soft hands slowly pumping him, his grip on your hair becoming just a little bit tighter as he moaned your name, throwing his head back in ecstasy.

You could feel the heat pooling between your legs when König looked down at you, his eyes blown out with his lip between his teeth and it was clear he was resisting the urge to buck his hips into your mouth, force his dick right into the back of your throat with the way you were doing such a good job for him.

When you slowly wrapped your lips around him, he moaned breathlessly, his shoulders slumping at the feeling of your warm mouth around him. You couldn't help but close your eyes as you started to take him deeper, it was just too much, but he didn't like that at all.

"No, no... Keep your pretty eyes open... Keep looking at me..." He tugged on your hair lightly, forcing you to wince at the pressure but you followed his words of course. When your eyes fluttered open, you were met with the sight of König's chest heaving softly, his mouth opened just a bit as he groaned.

"Ja, that's it... Good girl..." He chuckled, humming as his grip on your hair softened, replacing it with a gentle massage on your scalp as you took him deeper, keeping your eyes on him the whole time.

Your started to bob your head in a steady rhythm, pumping the rest of the length you couldn't take. König, as much as he tried his best to keep his composure, was a mess for you. His chest was heaving and low growls would rumble from his chest every once in a while when his hips would buck into your mouth ever so slightly.

"Can I fuck this pretty mouth, baby? Please..." He pleaded as if he was even waiting for an answer, almost sounding like a drawn out whine when he started to buck his hips into your mouth, he just couldn't help himself, he couldn't resist you at all when you looked so pretty for him.

Your hands found purchase on his thighs, nails digging into his flesh as your eyes rolled into the back of your head when he started to push his cock deeper into your throat, making you gag on him.

"Feels so fucking good, Liebling... I can't help myself..." He moaned as he threw his head back, he was getting rougher now, giving you his cock deeper and deeper as he whispered his praises, telling you how good you are and how much he'll reward his darling after he's done.

Your jaw was starting to hurt, and despite his early instructions, you couldn't help but close your eyes as he pushed your head down with a deep groan. Your fingers were digging into his flesh that you were certain it'd bruise by the morning, but even with how your jaw was starting to get sore and with how your tears were staining your cheeks, you just fucking loved it.

"Shh, shh... You're doing so good, Schatz..." He cooed with a mean chuckle as he wiped your tears away with his thumb. What a gentle man your friend was, carefully pulling your head from his cock as he praised you. "Breathe, baby..." He whispered as he caressed your cheeks, letting you catch your breath as your hands relaxed on his thighs.

"Sorry... I couldn't stop myself..." He apologized after a few moments, carefully picking you up from the cold floor and onto his lap in a bridal position almost. "Was I too rough, Liebling?" He whispered affectionately, gently caressing your thighs as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as you nestled your head against his shoulder.

"Nothing I couldn't handle" You laughed quietly, relaxing in the warmth his body provided while his hands soothed your thighs and hips.

"You're right... You did so well, like you always do" He chuckled against your hair, kissing your head with a hum.

"Let me take care of you tonight, darling... You deserve it"

268 notes · View notes

venerex · 2 months

Text

show it

pairing: joshua x f!reader

word count: 920

contains: intercourse, breast play (reader likes pain), hand around throat (explicitly not choking)

a/n: just dropping this here and running away. tagging @junhui-recs because i can't think of anyone else who might like this (hi june! your tags are much appreciated :))

“it’s alright, baby. take your time”

joshua’s voice registers your mind through the haze of sensations you currently find yourself in, his tender words both tethering you to reality and threatening to drag you to the edge of it.

in the opinions of people who know you, you’re a take-charge person, marching through actions in life and giving minimal thought to hesitations when it comes to getting what you want. what your acquaintances don’t know, however, is that you’re not this person in bed — in contrast, you’re quite shy, almost unable to ask for what you want.

unsurprisingly, this contrast has led to some tension in your past relationships. your partners expected — not unfairly — the similar forward person during physical activities, and they were disappointed.

they were all nice enough to not say it that way, ofcourse. but you knew, and that made you rather reluctant to be with someone. when you explained to joshua your doubts — on your very first date, no less — his response left you a little breathless.

(“oh? you’re shy in bed?”, a tender smile graced his lips, wickedness hinting in his eyes, “that’s alright, sweetheart. i can be explicit enough for both of us”. his eyes gentled a little at your furious blush, “and i don’t expect you to be someone you’re not”.)

you’ve thought about that response a lot — until the first time you made out with him. then you thought about how joshua is a man of his word.

joshua’s hands gently squeeze your hips, bringing you back to the present, where you sit on his throbbing cock, his face reflecting saintly patience while he waits for you to move. he’s being marvelously accommodating, as always — simply waiting until you feel comfortable taking charge.

his eyes tell a slightly different story, though — still gentle, but glinting with anticipation and a hint of desperation.

you squeeze around his cock and you want to move, you do — but you need something more, you need an edge to slice through your haze.

you know what you want, now you just need to say it.

or maybe not. maybe you can just show it.

your fingers reach down to touch his hand, lightly pulling at his fingers. he gives in easily, letting you place his index finger on the tip of your breast. you move another finger to the other side of your nipple, and press the two fingers together in a clumsy, rather off-place pinch.

but he gets it. the brilliant man — he gets it.

“ah, baby”, his fingers come to life, lightly rolling your nipple while the other hand comes to your other breast, mimicking the motion, “pretty girl wants some pain, mm?”

you bite your lip against a moan that manages to escape anyway, nodding emphatically at his words. he looks the picture of delight as he pinches your nipples — much, much lighter than you want him to — and you whimper out his name, your cunt clenching his cock almost painfully.

he inhales a sharp breath in response, whispering fuck before composing himself and directing his focus to you again.

he pinches again, a little harder this time. at your desperate moan, he murmurs, “harder?”

yes, yes, yes.

he must’ve seen the response on your face, for he does it again — this time holding his fingers, for one, two, three seconds — and then you lose count, lost in the sensation.

“i’m so proud of you, sweetheart”, he murmurs in your ear, lips brushing the corner of your cheek, “such a good girl, telling me what you want”.

he pulls your nipple, maintaining the pressure, and you almost sob out in ecstasy.

“such a good girl”, he twists the sensitive buds, and you almost scream, your clit throbbing from the need to release, “and good girls deserve to come, mm?”

his fingers release your nipples then, and you almost protest at the lack of sensations — before blood rushes into the buds, the pulsing sensations almost as heady as the insistent pinches.

you’re only slightly aware of his hands moving on your body, until they find their intended location — one finger circling your clit, one big hand easily spanning your throat. not applying any pressure, just staying there, feeling your running pulse.

the finger on your clit is insistent on getting you over the edge. joshua knows how to tease you well — he can do it for hours — and he’s not interested in teasing you now.

distantly, you notice his composure fraying as you come apart around his cock, his voice getting hoarse and he murmurs praises in your ear, his muscles straining to stay still as you writhe on his lap.

you’re still pulsing emphatically when he gives in, his hands coming to rest on your hips again as he thrusts his hips up. all traces of finesse are gone now, there’s just desperation as he falls apart in what feels like seconds, his thrusts only extending your orgasm as your combined groans echo through the walls of the room.

when you come back to reality, joshua is slumped against the headboard, his hands resting on your back as your chest rests against his, the familiar scent of sex and sweat and joshua hitting your senses.

he looks at you from under lidded eyes when you pull back to look at him, his face full of adoration and languid satisfaction. you suspect you wear the same expression.

“for someone so pretty, joshie”, you murmur, voice still hoarse from the strenuous moans, “you have a filthy mouth”.

#joshua smut #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #joshua x reader #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #joshua imagines #joshua hong smut

312 notes · View notes

dumbasswithapen · 3 months

Text

can we just listen to Disabled people when they say what accommodations they need??? Like it really isn’t that hard to just take someone’s word on what is best for their own body! Whether it’s more or less or different than what you deem they need it really isn’t your place to say!!!

Sometimes, people need more than they show! Especially if they’re used to being in pain all the time, then they won’t always display that discomfort.

Sometimes the accommodations someone needs are different than what you assume. A friend who struggles with noise sensitivity may ask for you to turn on a different type of music, instead of turning it down, and if that is what they express they need you don’t have to say “oh no I can just turn it down!” and ignore them saying that that isn’t necessary because your idea of noise sensitivity is different than their own experiences and needs.

And sometimes people need less than you try to provide! Or simply don’t want that accommodation at the time! And here’s the crazy part: this applies even if what they say to do could hurt them. Obviously this isn’t a rule for every situation*, but for some it absolutely is. If your friend wants to tag along for, say, a hike, and they have joint pain it isn’t your place to add in “oh no but they can’t do [the hike]! They’ll be in pain! We have to do something else to accommodate them!” If that person expressed a desire to go, especially if offered other options prior that wouldn’t hurt them, let them live. Let them do the thing that puts them in pain, because Disabled people don’t always want to be shoved into a little box of safety. Absolutely sometimes they do, and some might always want to, but if they don’t, then let them make their own choices for their body. Just as anyone else does. You go out and get drunk, even if it gives you a hangover. You go skating even if you’re shit at it and scratch up your knees a bunch. Just because someone is Disabled doesn’t mean that they can’t do the same thing and do that fun thing that hurts them.

I don’t know if I’m displaying my point how I want, so here’s my own example: I am allergic to the cold. Anything below 60 degrees (f) I get hives. Any water cooler than a fucking warm shower I get hives. My joints don’t do great when it’s cold out. This does not mean that when I say I want to go swimming, you can say “oh but you can’t you’ll get hives!” Or “no you can’t do that you’ll be in pain!” Because. I know that. I know that. I know my Disability better than anyone else can, and I can ask for accommodations I need. I am not a child to be wrapped in bubble wrap so I don’t get hurt. My body is my body and I can do with it what I want, and face the consequences. Likewise, just because I said I wanted to go swimming doesn’t mean that when I don’t want to go out and muck around in the snow it is anyone’s right to say “oh but you wanted to swim earlier, so obviously it isn’t that bad for you!” Or “oh it’s fine it’s not that cold! Just wear a sweater!” Because at that time I need and want different accommodations and that should be listened to and considered accordingly, as far as it can be in that situation.

Seriously. Just listen to us. We are in our own bodies. We know ourselves. It really isn’t that hard

*a situation where this point would be null is, for example, a situation where the person has been peer pressured into doing something, or one where you know the person well and know that the endurance of pain is a self-harming behavior

#disability #disabled #information #shi rambles #ableism #accommodation #cold urticaria #chronic pain #Like I get that my mom wants the best for me but I really know myself #If I avoided getting hives I’d be avoiding swimming at all. I’d not be having cold drinks or foods. I’d be not going outside #Even if I’m complaining about being in pain it doesnt mean that I don’t want to do the thing. It just means I don’t want to be in pain.#I know that won’t change but it’s not the change that matters it’s the expression of it #idk #actually disabled #ugh I don’t like wiriting that i feel like a fraud cuz im not disabled “enough”#It’s so fucking stupid I hate my brain

306 notes · View notes

indiaalphawhiskey · 2 months

Note

Oh India, reading your tags for the latest post about Louis´ sexuality -

I think of everyone Louis was the most comfortable with himself the earliest and that confidence is a big part of why *Harry* is the way he is having someone like Louis love and accept you for everything you are so early in life would change anyone and make them confident

Preach!!! I mean I´m not here for that long but I immediately understood that it was Louis, Louis and only Louis who made Harry the way he is now and the way he represent himself, the way he´s comfortable with himself and having confidence to bring some of his most bold and extravagant looks. Because Louis always encouraged him to do it. From encouraging him to paint his nails, to wear a dress if he wants to or that he would look nice even with shaved hair. It just makes me mad that noone *couch couch harries couch couch* knows it by now. He´s the most supportive boyfriend everyone would wish to have tbh.

Honestly, I believe this down to my bones.

As someone who has battled insecurity her whole life, and has Louises in her life, I’m so acutely aware of how that one friend can change your outlook on yourself so completely just by showing up for you and really being like “I love you for everything you are. You can be as weird as you like.”

And that’s platonic love. I cannot imagine the power of having that in a romantic partner and at sixteen no less. That’s the kind of love that makes you invincible, especially if you’re naturally offbeat (which Harry clearly has always been, bless his goober heart). It could have easily gone the other way without that kind of unconditional support and love — really, really easily too, considering management and the pressure Harry was under as a “heartthrob”.

I think what’s especially amazing is Louis was saying things like “just do the whole nail, for God’s sake!” in the early 2010’s, when there was almost zero mainstream conversation about gender expression, and people were still saying shit like “no homo”. And he was saying that at eighteen or nineteen — usually an extremely impressionable age to perform traditional masculinity particularly when surrounded by boys and constantly under public scrutiny.

Thinking about it with that level of nuance and hindsight, you can clearly see that Louis’ confidence and encouragement and love was absolutely extraordinary and waaaaaaaay more mature for, not only his age group, but the time.

In conclusion, Louis is just fucking wonderful, thanks.

Related to this.

#iaw ask #iaw anonymous #louis’ confidence #Louis and Harry

183 notes · View notes

starryeyedjanai · 7 months

Text

need you right here, right now

kinktober prompt: praise kink | 2.4k | explicit tags: good boy eddie, praise kink, public sex (they don't get caught), balcony sex, creampie, they are so deeply in love it's almost sickening

read on ao3

Eddie kind of can't believe they're doing this.

He just needed some air, needed a break from everything - the noise of the party, the conversations and congratulations, the emotions that came with winning his first fucking Grammy.

So he slips outside, hoping to go unnoticed so he can have a breather. He rests his head on the banister of the balcony, the cool metal refreshing against his heated skin, the cooler air out here immediately making him feel better than he had inside.

He hears the door slide open, hears the raging party continuing without him inside, and he prepares to put his smile back on, to push through the overstimulation even though it's almost painful at this point.

He straightens up and tries to smile, turning around and - oh thank fuck, it's Steve. He practically launches himself into Steve's arms, burying his face into his neck where it's safe and warm.

"You okay?" Steve asks, sounding concerned, wrapping his arms tight around Eddie, one hand coming up to grip the back of his neck.

The deep pressure feels good, being wrapped up and feeling taken care of - Steve always knows exactly what he needs.

He nods into Steve's neck and says, "It's just a lot. Everyone talking to me, the noise. 'S a lot."

Steve scratches his fingers through the hair at the base of Eddie's neck and Eddie shivers. It's a little chilly out, the air crisp and dry around them, but he feels warm in Steve's embrace.

Eddie lets himself relax in Steve's arms. He counts the points of contact between them - each of Steve's fingertips on his scalp, Steve's arms around him, his own arms wound around Steve, his lips pressed against Steve's collarbone, his nose nudging into the crook of his neck, Steve's chin resting against the side of his head.

He breathes deeply as he tries to calm himself down, to get the nervous energy coursing through his veins to evaporate.

Steve starts stroking his hand up and down Eddie's back - he's long since ditched his suit jacket, so with just the mesh shirt he was wearing underneath, it's basically like Steve is stroking his bare skin. Steve's other hand which was scratching at the base of his neck is scratching lower now, harder too, dragging the neckline of his shirt down, probably leaving red marks with how hard he's doing it.

And Eddie is having an extremely inappropriate response to it all. His dick is twitching in his pants at feeling so much of Steve's attention on him, a Pavlovian response almost.

He tries to pull back, but Steve stills him, sliding his hand to the side of Eddie's neck and guiding his face up so he can kiss him, the kiss hungry and desperate from the start.

Eddie sinks into it as easily as he always does, opening up for Steve, letting him lick his way inside his mouth, licking back. Steve gropes at his ass through his pants and his dick is getting hard and he wants to keep kissing him, wants to let Steve take him out of his head for a little while, but-

He pulls away.

"We can't," Eddie whispers. Even though he wants to say fuck it, he's very aware of the fact that he's ducking out of a party for him and that people are going to come looking eventually.

Steve presses forward and kisses him again, licking slow and deep into his mouth, almost making Eddie forget about all that.

Steve pulls away and Eddie can't help the way his eyes drop to his spit slick lips. He wants them on him again - he always wants them on him.

Steve says, "Don't worry about any of them," glancing back at the door. "I asked Chrissy to keep an eye out and stop anyone who tries to come out here."

Eddie feels his cock twitch in his pants again. He presses his hips forward into Steve's, rubbing up against him. He loves when Steve comes to him with details already figured out, when Eddie doesn't have to worry about the how's or the why's. Still-

He huffs out a laugh and asks, "What did you have to promise her to get her to agree to that?"

No fucking way Chrissy is just sitting posted at the door waiting for them to fuck without a bribe.

"I bribed her," Steve says grinning at him. "You have to delete twitter off your phone for a month."

Eddie scoffs. "You bribed her on my behalf?" he asks, mock offended.

"You need a social media break. Especially after all this. Just let her coordinate all that social media stuff since it's literally in her job description," Steve says, backing him up until his ass is against the railing. His voice dips lower as he says, "And let me take you apart out here where anyone could look up and accidentally get a peek at Corroded Coffin's lead singer's cock."

Eddie almost whines at the picture that paints. He can't remember what floor they're on, but they're up pretty high, and the balcony isn't facing the street. So theoretically no one should be able to see them, but the thrill is still there. Even with Chrissy guarding the door, if she gets distracted-

Eddie can feel his cock leaking in his underwear.

He whines and nods. He wants- he just wants.

Steve grins at him and reaches down, unbuttoning Eddie's pants. His fingertips press against Eddie's cock through his underwear for just a brief moment, but it's enough to have Eddie gasping in a breath, already overcome.

He pulls his hand away and steps back. Eddie instinctively steps forward, following him.

"You wanna put your mouth on me first?" Steve asks and Eddie tries not to slam to his knees on the hard concrete of the balcony. He's never been one to turn down an opportunity to get Steve's dick in his mouth and he's not starting now.

Steve unzips his pants and gets his cock out, not shoving them down or opening them any more than that - just his cock sticking out through where he's unzipped.

Eddie feels lightheaded.

He opens up wide and Steve guides himself into the wet warmth of his mouth. He sucks lightly for a few seconds before laving his tongue over the head to get it wet. He swirls his tongue along the underside of his dick, just under the head where it's most sensitive.

"You're so good for me, getting on your knees out here where anyone could see you. Getting my cock wet just because I asked you to," Steve says, stroking his hand over Eddie's hair, petting him. "Such a sweet puppy."

Eddie looks up and sees Steve drop his head back as he takes him deeper, swallowing around the head of his cock. He pulls back and licks at the head, digging his tongue into the slit, tasting him.

He sucks him back down again, relaxing his throat around him, tongue moving on the underside of his cock.

Steve's breath hitches as Eddie bobs his head, getting him sloppy with his spit.

He gets a fist in Eddie's hair and says, "I don't want to come anywhere but inside your pretty hole tonight."

He pulls off Steve's wet cock and lets himself be dragged up to his feet.

Steve pulls a packet of lube out of his pocket and Eddie snorts. "Why do you have that?" he asks.

Steve says, "Because I know you. I was expecting a bedroom, but this works just fine."

Eddie looks at him and aches. Steve always seems to anticipate what he needs. He feels seen when he's with Steve. People look at him all the time, but it doesn't ever really feel like they see him or understand him.

The silver in Steve's hair is glittering in the moonlight and Eddie's never felt so in love. He's about to get fucked over a balcony railing and the feelings swirling around inside him are sappy.

Steve looks at him knowingly and presses a chaste kiss to his lips.

He reaches out and slides Eddie's pants and underwear down to his thighs and turns him around.

"Bend over for me, love," Steve says softly in his ear. "Hands on the railing."

Eddie reaches forward, bending at the waist to put his hands on the railing of the balcony.

His brain is already slowing down, a little fuzzy from all of this, so he appreciates the direction.

His breath gets caught in his throat when Steve pets his hole with lube-slick fingers. He presses two inside, curling them towards his prostate and Eddie grips the railing tighter.

Steve fucks his fingers in and out leisurely, like they have all the time in the world, like they aren't a few feet away from a bustling party.

"Please," Eddie says, trying not to let any of the sounds he wants to make out.

Steve presses closer, moving his fingers faster. "Yeah? You want my cock in you?" he asks, like he doesn't already know the answer.

"Yes," Eddie moans.

"Okay, sweetheart. I'll give it to you. You're being so good for me. Asking for what you want, for what you need," Steve says and Eddie whines. That's so not fair.

Steve pulls his fingers free and presses the head of his dick against Eddie's hole. These little packets of lube are usually enough to get Eddie's hole a little wet, but there's not enough to coat Steve's dick fully so he knows going to feel the stretch and ache of Steve's cock splitting him open.

He bites his lip as Steve presses inside slowly, carefully easing his way inside, making his body open up for him. He doesn't stop until he's seated balls deep inside him, the teeth of his zipper digging into Eddie's skin.

He lets out a shuddering breath at the feeling of being so stretched open, Steve's cock piercing into him. Steve gives him a few moments to get used to the feeling before dragging his cock back out.

He can't stop the loud gasp that falls from his lips when Steve pulls all the way out and then slams back in.

Steve keeps going, fucking into him again and again as Eddie tucks his mouth against his upper arm to try and keep quiet. His hands grip the railing even tighter, the metal digging into his palm.

The sound of their hips coming together is loud to his ears and he knows if anyone were to venture out onto one of the neighboring balconies, they'd know right away what they were doing.

The thought makes his cock drip.

He hangs on for the ride and manages to not make another sound until Steve starts grinding his cock right against Eddie's prostate. That's so not fair.

The moans bubble up out of him and he can't even try to contain them. Steve knows how loud he gets when he's playing with his prostate - with his fingers, with a vibrator, with his cock fucking in with short, shallow thrusts.

"Shh, you don't want anyone to hear us, do you?" Steve asks, voice pitched low, like he isn't doing this on purpose.

Eddie shakes his head, biting his lip hard to stave off the sounds.

"Good boy," Steve says, sending a shiver down his spine. "You're my good boy."

Eddie looks down and nearly swallows his tongue. There's a long string of precome dangling from the slit of his cock, ready to drop onto the concrete of the balcony.

"You gonna come for me?" Steve asks. "You gonna be a good boy and come all over the railing for me?"

Eddie nods frantically.

Steve slides a hand around the base of Eddie's throat as he fucks in deep again, pulling him upright and back against him. They shuffle forward and Eddie's cock brushes against the cold metal of the railing.

Eddie can hear people talking inside muffled by the closed door. He can hear Chrissy talking loudly, laughing with someone, and it makes his stomach clench. Steve's words, the adrenaline of this all, and the way Steve is fucking into him with long, deep strokes again is all barreling him towards the finish line.

They're so fucking close to these people that are just inside the door. These people who all want so much from him.

But the only person who gets to have him like this is Steve.

Steve's the only one who gets to press inside him like this, like he belongs there. He's the only one Eddie would trust with his hand around his throat.

He's the love of his goddamn life and fuck. Eddie's gonna come. He's going to come with Steve's name on his lips, his hand around his throat, his cock in his ass.

"Come now," Steve growls out and Eddie does.

He tenses up and comes with a shudder as Steve slams home again, his come decorating the railing and the balcony floor. He shakes through it, whines and moans escaping his lips.

He feels Steve's cock kick inside him as he starts to come too, groaning softly in his ear.

Steve buries himself deep inside and grinds forward as he paints his insides with his come. Eddie lets out a shuddering breath.

Steve strokes his hand down Eddie's chest as they come down, as Eddie comes back to himself.

"You are so good, Ed. You are so good," Steve says in his ear.

Eddie shivers. He says, "You're good too, sweetheart. The best."

Steve pulls his cock out gently and Eddie groans at the loss. If they were at home, he'd ask him to stay inside a little while.

He turns around and laughs when Steve hands him a napkin.

"You're such a boy scout," Eddie says, cleaning himself up and pulling his pants up.

"You love it," Steve says, smacking a kiss to his cheek.

"I do," Eddie says, seriously. He pulls Steve into a slow kiss, licking into his mouth. Steve kisses him back, his hand coming up to stroke his jaw.

Eddie pulls away, feeling more like himself than when he stepped out only the balcony a while ago.

"We should probably clean that up," Steve says, looking at the railing where Eddie's come is shining wetly in the moonlight.

"Ough, we should," Eddie says with a wince.

#my drabble about balcony sex yesterday was not enough so i had to write a whole fic about it #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #autistic eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #janai.doc

344 notes · View notes

rggie · 2 years

Text

< event m.list┆inside their phones

characters: vil, leona, cater

details: gn!reader / i forgot to verify vil sorry T-T

﹫cater diamond

the cringiest but sweetest boyfriend ever. I’M SORRY he’s trying to be the boy of your dreams but he’s flopping. he loves u so much though, so ignore how cheesy he is and appreciate that he’s gotten into all your favourite music artists :(

he adds a gazillion heart emojis by your contact name and it changes everyday because he can’t stick with one

he may be cringe but he is free

anyone who follows him on any sort of social media groans whenever he posts. it’s 99% of the time going to be him gushing about you. at least half of the school know how in love he is with you — his highlights on magicam can attest to that…

he’s the type of guy to share how long your facetime calls are with everyone (they last HOURS.. sometimes you guys don’t even talk, you just like being in each other’s presence. you’re too lazy to go see each other in person)

overall an amazing boyfriend, always making sure you know you’re loved. please do the same for him too!! you know, for when he feels a little low.

﹫ vil schoenheit

subtly flaunts your relationship but nobody knows who you are. it’s like the world’s biggest mystery. “Who Is Dating Vil Schoenheit?” trends online every few weeks

he’s gatekeeping you but he’s also showing you off?? like??? brags about you on his story but doesn’t say enough for anyone to connect the dots

if you eventually make it to his magicam page, just know you have won at life. this will be your biggest accomplishment. he’ll be super serious about the whole situation, since he’s exposing your relationship to a ton of fans; he doesn’t want you to feel overwhelmed or pressured by the exposure

he might start managing your social media account as well. you both have matching themes <3

﹫ leona kingscholar

leona does not use social media.

he’s just terrible with a phone overall, he forgets he has it on him and you guys miss each others’ calls. prefers when you’re with him in person because he can’t use these stupid apps!

in fact, he only made a magicam account so you could tag him in your posts.

people keep thinking you’re single, he got irritated

he also finds himself stalking your page every week or so because he’s wondering why he’s never seen any of these photos you’ve been posting??

and who on earth is taking these photos of you? why isn’t he the cameraman?

denies that he stalks your page even though you’re certain he has post notifications on because he’s always first like. (he doesn’t know any other magicam function)

once you let him on your phone and he accidentally started a live

he was half-asleep and shirtless. he couldn’t find the end live button so he switched off your phone and threw it. it was the talk of the school for a LONG time

trivial things like magicam are just a waste of time for him, he’d rather not

#event・recently deleted 🗑#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst smau #twst texts #twst fake texts #cater x reader #cater diamond x reader #leona x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #🐾・/ rggie twst

2K notes · View notes

bakugosbratx · 3 months

Text

Wrapped Around Your Finger — Eren Jeager x Fem! Reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+Content. Alcohol, cheating, toxic relationship, kinda Stockholm syndrome kinda not, angst, fighting, rough sex, degrading, etc.

Tags: @nymphoheretic @cupids-soul @sickchildren

Words: 2,019

Not beta read

Eren Jeager.

He’s not someone you would want to bring home to your mother. In fact, he’s someone your mother would warn you to remain far away from. If you had any brain cells left in that thick head of yours, you would learn your lesson by now. He was nothing but trouble and some part of you loved that about him.

The way Eren can make up for all those broken promises with just one breathtaking kiss. His tongue dancing with yours as his large hands squeeze your ass, you can’t help but feel intoxicated.

“Miss me?” Eren asked with a devious smirk. Did he actually care if you missed him or not? Most likely not, but it did not matter as you disrobed on your way to your mattress. “Yes, so much.” You breathed. You are quick to forget about your last fight and how you two haven’t talked for a month and a half.

You are quick to help remove his black hoodie, discarding it to the floor with his t-shirt quickly following. Pulling away from your lips, he lays you down onto the bed as he leads your hand to his jeans. You can already feel his cock rising as you palm him with greedily little fingers. Eren’s selfish desires quickly consume you. There is no hesitation about this as you set him free for him to take advantage of your hole.

Eren still had fresh scratches on his chest and back from his last sexual encounter before he arrived here, but you were too much in heaven to care. You could easily ignore the hickeys the last person left just a couple hours before. You have done it so many times before. For now, your focus is on you two.

Eren’s cock is deep into your guts, his long hair out of his hair tie as you entangle your fingers into his luscious strands. You just slide the black hair tie on your wrist while your nails dig down Eren’s back.

“Keep your damn claws to yourself.” Eren growled as he restrained your wrist above your head. “I taught you better than to mark me.”

All you could do is blubber incoherent sentences as Eren’s strokes became too much to handle. Your back arches as your toes curl from the intense pressure. It was a blessing and a curse to be Eren’s favorite fuck toy. The sex was always amazing.

That’s just the honest truth.

Eren knew all your favorite spots. With every thrust, it was a painful yet beautiful bliss. No one else could touch your soul like he can. And he was good at claiming you, though, he was not one who wanted commitment. No one could fuck you, but him.

The negative was, well, everything. Nobody can please you like him. Everything Eren wanted, he got. It didn’t matter how long he was gone for and what venomous words that flew from his mouth; Eren always got what he wanted. The saddest part was that you knew this was going to happen. Eren’s dirty laundry was always the talk of the town yet, here you are, moaning his name.

“Eren, please, I’m going to—“

“You better fuckin’ not.” Eren threatened with a harsh slap to your face. The adrenaline was only bringing you closer to your high. “Y’know you don’t get to cum unless I say so. Don’t fuckin’ act stupid.”

“Y-Yes, sir.” You murmur out as your eyes roll back. Eren’s cock was already leaking pre-cum into your depths, your organs absorbing it like so many times before.

Eren’s eyes remained on you. As much as you loved to be praised, Eren was not the praising type. Especially in the bedroom. Your reward was him. His attention, his presence, his cock deep in you. You should be so grateful to even be used by him. Though, if you only knew that each time Eren abused your tight little hole, his eyes would scan your naked body to make sure nobody else marked what is his.

Sure, you are single. You can date, talk, fuck anyone you want. No one can tell you otherwise. Eren does whatever he wants, why can’t you do the same?

You made that mistake once.

Consumed by alcohol and the rhythm, you swayed your hips right into the hands of an attractive man. A man known as Jean who had the hots for you for as long as you could remember. You have turned him down and his advances quite a few times, but tonight, you felt a bit frisky. Plus, you had to watch Eren flirt, kiss, and so many other things with pretty girls.

Was it out of spite? Potentially. Eren has already told you many times you are nothing more than a fuck toy. You are reminded every time he comes and goes out of your front door yet your heart fell for his beautiful smile that was hardly ever present, his voice that was so cold yet was so hot, and those beautiful green eyes that knew how to look right through your soul. He read every single page of you without you even telling him to.

Eren knew you like the back of his hand. He knew when you were at your weakest for him. Being deprived of his attention for so long made you practically on your knees for him. You would do anything he wanted just for him to stay a little longer.

“So fuckin’ pathetic,” Eren would always remind you as your limp body take more and more of him. You are so tired, mentally and physically, from how much you have been used yet you’ll give up every ounce of yourself to make Eren stay. “You’ll give up your own morals and happiness just to keep me, huh?” He scornfully chuckled. His words had nothing to do with the intercourse, but you both knew he was correct. You would throw away so much just to be with Eren.

It really was so fuckin’ pathetic, Y/N.

And you knew it.

However, your heart forever ached for Eren. Every female he gave attention to that was not you was another stab to your back. So many knives rested in your spine leaving you forever paralyzed in agony. Overtime, it should not hurt as bad, but your pillowcase full of bitter tears and playlist full of sad songs say otherwise. How can someone who can see right through you not even feel an ounce of love for you? Someone who knew your entire soul from just touching your soft skin; how can there not be love present there?

Maybe you were just too cock drunk to see the tiniest glimmers of care in Eren’s eyes for you. You just chalked it up to be all in your head. That��s what Eren made you believe anyways and those glares from across the room whenever Jean’s hands rested on your hips were just the vodka talking. Everything is just an illusion.

As your painted colored lips twirled with Jean’s, your eyes closing in hopes you could imagine it was Eren. You could practically feel his cologne fill your nostrils at the thought only for your orbs to abruptly open. You let out a gasp when you find Jean on the ground and an angry Eren standing in front of you.

“E-Eren—“ you muttered in shock. Eren glared at you. You could not process what even happened when Eren began storming out. You are quick to follow, ignoring the crowd.

“Eren! Wait—“

Eren stopped a few meters ahead of you, his back still turned to you. “What did I tell you, Y/N?” His voice was calm, but you could feel the bitterness coated in the way he spoke your name.

You arched a brow. Eren has told you many things. Many of them were either not appropriate or cruel words you have fought hard to forget. Any instance of sweetness that ever came from Eren was just pillowtalk.

‘I just say it because I know it gets you off,’ he would always shrug along with other similar excuses when you would question his motives. You are just friends with benefits, sure, but the subtle brushes of each other’s hands when you both go to turn up the music in his car send electricity running through you both. And if you two are just friends with benefits, why do you know how Eren takes his coffee and his favorite childhood video games? Oh, and why does Eren, at times, find excuses not to leave? Laying beside you, your head on his muscular chest, his fingers entangled in your hair, your soft snores soothing his rapid heartbeat.

Only for you to wake up all alone.

You always end up alone.

“Can you not hear?” Eren hissed, bringing you back to the question at hand. “I asked you a question. Y’know I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“I’m yours.” You gulped, attempting to swallow the words before they evacuated your mouth. The two delicate words were barely above a murmur between the loud music and drunken chatter, but the frigid air between you and Eren silenced out the world and those two words echoed in each other’s ear drums.

The wind picked up, suffocating you. Eren had so many emotions roaring within him. He will never be one to settle down. He will never be the one to be able to take you on all the lavish dates you deserved. You can lie all you want and claim it does not matter, but Eren knew you deserved that. It’s not from lack of money, status, or time, but rather that is not in Eren’s nature.

No matter how hard he wanted to try, he could not be the man he wanted him so bad to be. He saw how you gazed at him with stars in your eyes and as much as he wanted to match the potential you desperately wanted him to be, he just couldn’t.

Yet, here you two stood. Those two words have such a major effect on each of you. Secretly, and loudly, you have always had a faithfulness to Eren and he feasted on that. He thrived that he could have you hanging on the line while he did whatever he pleased. It was not fair. Even Eren knew that, but his immature ways tend to always win.

Eren gazed over his shoulder, “and don’t you forget it.”

You were frozen as you watched Eren walk to his car. So many questions that remained unanswered all this time later. You wanted to believe this was Eren’s complicated way of displaying his love for you and if you were not manipulated as usual by him, your hunch would have been correct.

You two did not speak about that encounter.

As Eren finished in you, your eyes glossed over in pure bliss. Your leaking hole was always the best. No doubt about it. That’s what he tells himself on the reason why he keeps coming back to you. And that must be the reason why he is crawling into bed beside you, hugging your exhausted body close as you quickly fall into a deep slumber.

Maybe this time Eren would not slip out into the night. Maybe he would let you be conscious enough to hear his heartbeat race while in your presence. Maybe, just maybe, he can stay the night. That is not too much of a commitment, right?

It’s just one night.

One night that was not tonight. Eren caressed your beautiful face one more time before making the difficult decision to climb out of your bed, careful not to wake you, put on his clothing that was still scattered on your hardwood floor, and cover up your naked body with your duvet. Kissing your temple, embracing the beauty you are from the moonlight illuminating your room from the window.

Eren wanted so badly to climb back beside you, hold you and keep you safe, but as always, he sneaked out into the night, leaving you all alone.

#eren #eren jeager #aot #aot eren #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren smut #eren yeager #eren aot #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager smut #eren jaeger #eren jeager x you #eren jeager x y/n

155 notes · View notes