#pitch perfect fan drive

[b14augrana]

‘Lacy’

Fridolina is perfect in your eyes. Too perfect, actually, and it drives you crazy.

Fridolina Rolfö x reader

masterlist

Warnings: jealousy and reader lowkey has issues

A/N: i’m the biggest frido fan on this planet so this sucked to write ily frido 🙁. i wrote this at 12:30 am so it’s not very good + not proofread and i’m very sorry in advance

You grew up loving Spanish football.

The technicality of it was your favourite thing and later on, you tried to incorporate it into your own play style. It set you apart from your teammates and made you stand out… until she came along.

The Swedish talent, incredible defender, the attacking fullback of everyone’s dreams. Fridolina Rolfö. You had played against her a handful of times and she was nothing short of talented; she was probably the first fullback you had seen that dribbled so high up the wing with so much confidence and actually managed to make something out of it.

Your usual position was in the midfield, but when your starting right back got injured, you found yourself shoved into a completely new position. You loved carrying the ball up the field and creating plays or dictating the game, but from the back, you could hardly do that. Due to the lack of real opportunities to let yourself shine, Fridolina got all the attention. The more goals she scored, the more assists she got, the more headlines she made in German sporting media.

The worst part? She was genuinely nice, so you had no proper reason to hate her besides being extremely jealous. She was kind and always complimented you during training and encouraged you during every match.

Your transfer to Barcelona couldn’t have happened at a more convenient time. Just as you were nearing your breaking point with her perfectness, your contract expired and you signed with the Spanish club. You had no intention of renewing with Wolfsburg, not while she was there. You wanted that fresh start, you wanted to thrive in a completely new place and finally learn the Spanish way of football first-hand.

The first season was amazing. You were breaking personal records and putting up performances for your new club, solidifying yourself as a starting player. You made friends and learned many things both on and off the pitch, and on top of that, you won your first couple trophies outside of Germany. You were at the peak of your happiness.

Of course it had to be ruined by a certain Swede arriving at the club only a season later. “(Y/N), it’s such a coincidence! I loved playing with you, so I could never turn down the contract they offered me,” she happily said to you on her first day. You smiled back at her despite wanting to bash your head against a wall, because you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mean.

She stuck with you during her first couple weeks at the club until she got familiar with everyone else; to you, those were the worst weeks of your life as you were forced to confront the reality that she was perfect as ever and you were sickeningly envious of her.

Over the course of the next season, it became harder to understand how she had almost no room for imperfection. Her only flaw was something stupid like not being able to bake which was something you couldn’t do either, so that didn’t make you feel any better.

Everyone in your team loved her. She was a good player, an excellent one even. She was soft spoken and respectful, and a team player who fit right in almost immediately.

She loved cafés and coffee, like Ingrid. She enjoyed kayaking and swimming, like Lucy and Ona. She loved dogs, like Alexia. She liked to travel, like Aitana.

She was everything you wished you could be, and it made you curse her name in the dark emptiness of your bedroom after hours. It made you watch her for a second longer during training, even while you’re on the other side of the pitch. It made you smile at her in the changing room and ask her how she is.

She didn’t even have to try to be adored, whereas it felt like you had been trying to catch anyone’s eye since the beginning of time. She breathed and the media was all over her.

As the season progressed, the envious feeling became a regular thing when you were around Fridolina, so you had gotten used to it. You felt bad for feeling such a way but your heart overpowered your brain and the feelings persisted.

You were having the best season of your career so far, between qualifying for a Champions League semifinal and becoming a league champion once again on top of winning the Copa de La Reina and Supercopa.

During the second leg of the semifinal against Chelsea, you were taken out inside the box, granting your team a penalty. You stepped up to take it with the chance to put you and your team ahead, but before you could even walk up to the spot, blonde hair swished past you and before you could process anything, the ball hit the back of the net and you saw Fridolina running away to celebrate it. You couldn’t even afford to be angry on the surface, because then everyone would know something was wrong and you’d have to come clean and hurt Fridolina and say something that would surely upset her so.. you celebrated with your team. Like anyone in your position would.

That was your breaking point though — her being under the spotlight once again, proving that she’s so magnificent and better than you and perfect.

Perfect, once again.

The worst part was, even as you sat in the changing rooms on your own, fighting back tears, you knew you couldn’t entirely loathe her out of any amount of jealousy. You couldn’t loathe her more than you loathed your own mind, which betrayed you by worshipping her like some sort of idol.

The rude awakening that you worshipped her settled in as you tried to ignore the fact she was the type of person you prayed to be like, to a god you barely believed in.

Fucking perfect angel Fridolina. Damn you.

[hauntedchoso]

GROUPIE LOVE *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It’s so sweet swingin’ to the beat when I know that you’re doin’ it all for me…

How the JJK men fuck you after a show ft. [gojo], [geto], [toji], [choso], & [nanami] x [fem reader] nsfw warning. mdni. minors and ageless blogs will be blocked for interacting. cw: breeding in gojo’s, daddy kink, semi-exhibitionism, choking, degradation, name calling. established relationships in all despite the title! a/n: this is a repost from my old blog, which used to be a side blog.

Gojo is the singer. His icy white hair and electric blue eyes are quick to capture the hearts of his screaming fans—but those eyes only search for one person in the crowd. Your heart skipped a beat the moment he stepped onto the stage, and when he finally sees you, he flashes you that award-winning smile, bringing the mic up to his perfect lips. “How are we doing tonight, everyone? We’re going to play a song we’ve never performed live before…”

His presence was magnetic, attracting the attention of hundreds of screaming girls as he sang romantic melodies into the mic. You watched his Adam’s apple bob with each word and the way the veins on his hand stuck out as he clutched the mic tightly. Every lyric he sang told a story, and you knew better than all the other girls in the room—he was telling your story. The story of your sweet nights together, the nights you spent gazing into a sea of cerulean blue behind white eyelashes while basking in Gojo’s presence and the beauty of his voice. It was absolutely beautiful, the sweet vibrato’s and clear pitches that escaped his lips as he serenaded his crowd—but it didn’t compare to the beauty of his voice when he was underneath you. 

“Fuck, baby—just like that…haah, god damn. You’re so damn tight,” he moaned, unable to keep up with the way your ass slammed down on his thighs. The harder you rode him, the more undone he became underneath you—such a stark contrast to the confidence he always held when he took the stage. His long, pretty cock stroked against your gummy walls, his mushroom head grazing your g-spot when you raised yourself high enough, driving you crazy. 

“Satoru,” you mewl, absolutely loving the way his hands grip your thighs for dear life. You guys didn’t have much time; it would only be a few minutes before the rest of the guys returned to the tour bus, where you were holding Gojo as your hostage on the bench-couch in the small kitchenette. You ignored the burning in your muscles as you urged yourself to go faster, not giving him a chance to run away as you brought yourself down repeatedly on his warm cock that was throbbing so deliciously inside your clenching cunt. “Cum in me, daddy, I need it—“

“You better fucking watch it,” he moaned through clenched teeth, frustration seeping into his tone, the grip on your left thigh becoming harder. He couldn’t control how his cock throbbed inside you when he heard the word daddy, and it didn’t help that your luscious tits were bouncing so beautifully in his face. If you weren’t moving so fast, he’d have a nipple in his mouth, swirling his warm tongue around it. Quickly becoming overwhelmed by the way your tight cunt clenched around his raw dick, he squeezed his eyes shut, silently willing himself to last longer than he knew he would. He knew you weren’t on birth control, and if you continued to call him daddy in such a slutty tone…well, you’d probably make him a daddy. 

His frustration only egged you on more. “I want your cum in me so bad…haah, please…I’m such a little slut for you, daddy. Don’t you wanna fill me with your seed—“

Before you could process what was happening, Gojo had your back flat against the couch, nudging your thighs back apart as he slid himself inside you again, a hand wrapped tightly around your throat. “You want my cum, you fucking slut? Want me to breed you like a bitch in heat? Fine, you better lay there and take everything I give you.”

Geto is the guitarist. The way his gorgeous black hair falls around his face as he slings his guitar strap over his shoulder is mesmerizing. His gauged ears are sporting their usual shiny black plugs, which catch the stage lights with each turn of his head. You watch from the side of the stage, hidden from the view of his fans, as his fingers pluck his lucky guitar pick out from between his perfect teeth, bringing the pick down to play a warm-up riff. He gives you one last sly smile, and a sweet, sexy wink before he starts the opening riff to their first song. 

He played his guitar like it was an extension of himself. You watched as his palm slid up and down the instrument’s neck as he followed along to the score, making hundreds of screaming girls howl as he paused and swung it harshly to his right side, flipping it over his neck and catching it again. There was something different about hearing him play the same riffs on stage that he would practice with in the comforts of your shared bedroom, lounging lazily in your queen-sized bed as you close your eyes to the quiet strumming. No, hearing it on a stage was way more exhilarating—he might have thousands of fans in front of him, but you know he’s only playing for you. Watching his long, beautiful, skilled fingers tap away at the neck of the guitar, eliciting different melodic tones and notes when he strums gently. It almost reminds you of the noises his fingers elicit out of you. 

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. Is this all for me?” He purrs into your ear. The same hand that was gently choking you was also keeping your back pinned to the wall as his other hand, shoved deep past the waistband of your skinny jeans, toyed with your weeping folds and rubbed gently against your clit.  He smiles down at his lucky guitar pick resting comfortably in your cleavage, loving the way the lacy shirt he bought you accentuates your beautiful body. 

“You looked so fucking hot on stage tonight….” You manage to whine out. Your heart was racing out of your chest, eyes darting all around the room that today’s venue designated as the band’s dressing room. A music tech, security guard, or even one of Geto’s band mates could barge in at any given moment, but his fingers were relentless as they slipped into your core. 

Your eyes rolled back as you felt your pussy welcome in his digits and clench around them. The hand around your neck slid up to your jaw, gripping your face and turning you to face him again. “Yeah? If I’m so hot, why are you looking away from me, pretty girl? My eyes are right here.”

He emphasized his words by curling his fingers against your g-spot, cutting off your mewls of pleasure with his lips and immediately sliding his tongue inside. You were so drunk, so intoxicated by his lips that you felt your eyes rolling back again before shutting and moaning into the kiss; a kiss that was way too short-lived. “Just one, baby. Cum for me just once, and I’ll dick you down the way your little cunt desperately needs it.”

You complied, reverting all your focus to his fingers until you finally came all over them with a loud, slutty moan. 

He whipped you around almost immediately, pressing your chest to the wall, pulling your hips out, yanking your pants down and unzipping his own before slapping his hard cock on your ass. “Say please, baby,” he whispers in your ear, taking note of the way you press your ass eagerly against him. 

“Please, daddy. I want you to fuck me so bad—!”

And before you could even finish your sentence, Geto was pushing into your warm pussy, using small, gentle thrusts to ease himself in until he was bottomed out. You could feel your walls sucking his hard cock in when his thrusts became deeper; sharp, percussive moans leaving your mouth with each slap of his hips against your ass. His pace was fast and mean, and you were completely enamored with the feeling of his balls slapping your clit. 

“Suguru—!” You could feel your orgasm approaching, your walls contracting and clenching around his pulsing cock, but that only made him go faster. 

“Dirty little slut. You love when I use you like this, don’t you, angel? Taking my cock like the sweet little slut you are…haah. Letting me use my pussy the way I want, wherever I want…”

Toji is the bassist. The long-necked guitar always looked so small and draped so beautifully across his large, muscular frame whenever he played—so different than the way it looked against your naked body on those nights he was in the mood to snap some photos of both of his beauties. His eyes met yours under the black fringe of his bangs, the scarred side of his mouth curling up into a smirk as his fingers found each string and plucked. 

You watched as his fingers danced across the four strings, mindlessly plucking at the four strings, amazed at the way the colorful stage lights were gracing his face and muscular arms. His bass lines were so effortless; he didn’t even need to look down at his hands while he played. His eyes would instead scan the crowd, casting uninterested glances at all the fans screaming his name, and occasionally coming back to meet your own, always accompanied by the sweetest, sexiest grin that reminded you that he was yours. The deep notes that harmonized with Geto’s guitar reverberated off the walls of the concert hall; they shook the speakers, the shook the barriers, they shook your core. But his deep bass lines were no match for how deep his cock always reached inside you. 

“Toji! Ah—fuck!” You choked out, tears streaming down your face as the tip of his cock repeatedly mashed against your cervix. “I’m gonna cum! Ah—please! Daddy! I’m really gonna cum!” You warned. 

“Yeah? Fucking cum then, slut. I’m not fucking this cunt for nothing.”

When Toji invited you to shower with him after the show, you weren’t expecting him to shove you against the shower wall and fuck you like a wild animal from behind as soon as the water hit your hair. While your showers together always ended in you two fucking, you never thought he’d choose a place so public, a place that puts you both at risk of being heard by your closest friends. This seemed to be the last thing on Toji’s mind as he continues to bully his mean cock into your aching pussy. His eyes remained on your ass, watching his cock pistoning in and out of you while your plump cheeks jiggled with each mean thrust. He knew you got loud when you came, and while it was something you were trying to suppress in order to save face from any of his band mates or techs that might be lingering around outside the bathrooms, it was his one and only goal. 

And you did. As soon as he reached his hand down to rub your sensitive clit, you clenched hard on his throbbing cock. Your back arched deeply against him as you squirted hard against the shower wall, a loud squeal leaving your lips. 

He grabs your wet hair, turning your head to the side so he can silence you with a bruising kiss. “Gonna do it again, mama? Gonna cum all over my cock again?” He whispers evilly against your ear once he pulls away, quickening his pace. His hips slap hard against the globes of your ass, the loud clap clap clap echoing off of the insulated shower walls. 

“Y-yes, daddy, I wanna cum again—“ your words were cut off when he slid two fingers into your mouth, groaning when you bite down on them. 

His thrusts were unforgiving, pulling out far enough so that his fat mushroom head pressed harshly against your g-spot when he thrusted forward and hit your cervix. You were so cockdrunk, Toji could sense your oncoming second orgasm before you could by the way your walls were clenching down so hard on him. Before you knew it, you were squirting again, this time pulling a louder, sluttier squeal from your lungs. 

“Good girl,” he praises, a wide smile spread across his face as he continued to pound you into overstimulation. “Music to my fucking ears.”

Choso is the drummer. You loved the way those spiked pigtails bounced in the wind as he head banged along to the loud thumping of his drums. His chocolate brown eyes would occasionally meet yours through the band’s set, peaking brightly above the black stripe across his nose, the purple stage lights reflecting across his irises. During the bridge of a particularly romantic song, he cast his gaze towards where you stood side-stage. With a drumstick tipped in your direction, he made sure your eyes were on him as he shot you a wink before his drum solo, as if to say, “this one’s for you.”

Choso pounded on his drums as if he hated them, shaking the stage and speakers so intensely with his mean percussion that you could feel your throat vibrate. You didn’t care what anyone said, Choso controls the show; he counts everyone in, he sets the tempo, he decides how hard his band plays by how he wants to play—and boy, does he play hard. He was often breaking his sticks and putting dents in his drumheads, going through countless numbers of each with every tour he went on. Everything about Choso was hard—the way he plays, his toned muscles, his thick cock, the way he fucks you. 

“Ch-Choso! Haah…h-oh my god, you’re so-!” Your hands clutched at everything they could grab so that you could hold on for dear life—the cymbals, the casings on the side of the drums, the drum stands themselves—but to no avail. “Fuck, you’re so deep!”

Choso snickered at your pathetic attempts to stabilize yourself, the sight only driving his hips against your ass even harder. He had you bent over his drum set, the harsh slaps of your skin-on-skin contact echoing throughout the empty concert hall. He purposely made sure to leave his drums on stage as he helped tear down the rest of the set, waited until his band mates disappeared, and ushered every tech, security guard, and janitor out before he stalked and captured his prey, dragging you back to his den. “Don’t run from my cock now, princess. Isn’t this what you wanted? You were giving me slutty bedroom eyes throughout the whole show.”

He paused his violent thrusts for a moment, driving his hips backward to slowly brush the tip of his cock against your g-spot. He marveled at the way your pussy fluttered and clenched around him as he teased your sopping wet core. 

“Yes, baby…” you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the delicious stimulation. 

His hips jerked forward, meeting your ass with a singular mean thrust. “I’m sorry?”

You yelp at the sudden jolt of pain and pleasure, eyes snapping wide open as his fingers dig deeper into your hips. “Daddy! Yes, daddy! I want you! Please!” you babble desperately. 

Choso gave your ass one harsh smack before pounding into you again, settling on an unforgiving pace. He loved fucking you hard. Your walls always clenched him so tight, and he loved your cute little squeals you’d let out whenever his cock kissed your cervix. He loved how hard you always came from it, too—it only made him want to fuck you impossibly harder and deeper. His balls slapped against your clit with each thrust, and he admired the way your ass jiggled each time he slammed against it. The sound of him fucking you created its own erotic percussion that you both somehow loved more than the actual sound of his drums. 

“I’ma cum, ohmygod! Ch-Choso…daddy, fuck! I’m cumming!” You whine, unable to focus your gaze as fat tears blur your vision and spill down your face. 

“Good girl. Cum for me, pretty baby,” he moans, rubbing your clit in gentle praise as you spasm all over his throbbing length. “You’re so fucking pretty when you’re all fucked out and dumb on my cock.”

Nanami is the manager. His blond hair was always combed into a perfect style, and his soft, brown eyes focused on his surroundings as he effortlessly orchestrated the commotion around him. There was a certain calmness that surrounded him as he guided the band through every moment of post-concert teardown. Every once in a while, his eyes would land on you, where you sat quietly on one of the speaker cases backstage, ignoring his gaze with a small pout across your lips. 

The guys in the band would sometimes get a little too crazy after shows or on days off, and they have proved time and time again that they needed someone to keep them in check. Whether it’s passing out drunk outside of local bars, damaging and losing their gear, showing up late to sound checks, or simply being divas with attitude, Nanami swore that he was in charge of a bunch of children, and that you—his perfect girl—were the only one who could do no wrong. Even on nights like tonight, when you were upset with him for reasons that were beyond him, he was happy to pull you aside and get you in check as well.

His lips were on yours, tongue swirling around your mouth as he drank in your moans with fervor. His fingers laced through your hair, resting against the back of your head and using that placement to press your lips more firmly against his as his other hand pressed you against his body. He breaks the kiss for a moment to suck small hickies into your neck. 

“What’s got you so worked up tonight, my angel?” He murmurs against your neck, his hot breath sending goosebumps down the length of your spine. “I let you ignore me all evening, but you can’t hide from me now.”

“Kento…what-what about the guys?” You ask innocently, a small gasp leaving your lips as his teeth nip the skin over your pulse point rather hard. 

“Let’s see; Suguru’s in the dressing room, Toji and his woman are putting on a second concert in the shower, pretty sure I saw Satoru sneak onto the bus…” Nanami uses a finger to tilt your chin up, your eyes meeting his, “and Choso’s slutting himself out on stage. Where does that leave me to take my girl, hmm?”

Before you could even answer, he’s kissing you again, whisking you through a side door that exits outside behind the concert venue. Your eyes snap open as you feel a sudden breeze hit your skin, causing you to break the kiss. 

“Out here? But-“

He silences you with a hand to your throat. “Yes, pretty girl. Out here. Now tell me what you need, okay?”

Your eyebrows pinched in frustration. His strong hand choking you only aroused your needy cunt. You were supposed to be upset with him for being too busy for you that day, but the sultry tone in his voice was making you horny. 

“I need you…please, daddy. I missed you so much today. I need you to fuck me so bad.”

And before you know it, he has your feet off the ground, legs wrapped around his hips and your back against the hard brick wall as he bullies his cock into your cunt relentlessly. Your moans echo into the night sky, surely being heard by anyone lingering outside the nearby bars and restaurants as Nanami’s balls make harsh contact with your ass with each unforgiving thrust. “You like being a brat? Hm? Knowing daddy will fuck you nice and hard? I didn’t know my perfect girl was such a needy little slut.”

“Yes—yes! Right there, daddy!” You cry, pure ecstasy making your legs shake as his fat, veiny cock brushes the inside of your walls. “Haah—nnggh fuck, I’ma cum…” you slur, drool escaping from the corner of your lips as your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“That’s right, princess—give it to me. Give me everything. You like when I fuck you dumb, don’t you, baby? You’re so cute when you’re being a brat. Next time, though, I won’t be as gentle.”

BONUS FOR MY METALCORE GIRLIES

gojo's vocals / geto's riffs / toji's basslines / choso's drumming

please keep in mind that I block minors and ageless blogs. mdni.

please do not steal my work.

[wsoc-gay]

World Cup Results

Ona Batlle x Reader

Summary: It seems as though you and Ona make big decisions after big matches.

(This was originally going to be longer, but then it became too long. So, instead, I am breaking it into two parts, second will be out soon.)

You and Ona had met during her time playing at Manchester United while you were still at Arsenal. Arsenal was your childhood club you had made your way through the youth system until you finally made your full-team debut at 16. As growing through the Arsenal ranks you also were an up-and-coming player in the England youth system making your international debut at just 17. 

You met Ona when you were 18 after she had first arrived to United, one of your best friends from the National team, Alessia, introduced you two after a match. From that day forward you two were nearly inseparable. For your years in England, it was a relationship full of afternoon drives after training and early morning goodbyes to be back to London in time for the next, but nevertheless you two did it because you truly fell for each other fast.

It was three years later that Ona decided she wanted to return to Barcelona, she wanted you to come with her, but you were hesitant at first. Your whole life was in London all you ever knew was Arsenal, but also you two weren’t public and you weren’t sure about the swarm that would come from it. Your families and friends knew about your relationship, but with how young you both were you wanted to keep it out of the spotlight, you didn’t want the media focused on your relationship over your football. However, after a year of playing in two different countries you decided you had enough a followed her to her home.

You were one of the best players in the world at the time, so it did not take a lot for you to get a contract from the Catalonian club. While you still weren’t saying anything about your relationship to the public fans quickly started to notice the undeniable connection between you two, the walks into matches, the looks during training, Ona always being your first hug after scoring, and everything in between. You slowly started to be less secretive about your relationship until the only thing keeping fans from knowing you were dating was a kissng photo. 

It now was the 2027 World Cup final; you and Ona had been together for 7 years and were now meeting for the second time in a World Cup Final. You hugged and placed a kiss on the short Spaniard’s temple during the prematch pitch inspections, but then went on your way as you both were here for business.

You scored early into the match, just a mere 15 minutes in is when you broke the deadlock. It was a brilliant through ball from Kiera that you were able to calmly finish past Cata, you immediately ran towards the corner flag to celebrate in front of your country’s fans as your teammates chased after you.

It wasn’t long after that Aitana scored the tying goal and brought the game even going into halftime. The speeches weren’t long, both teams knew what they had to do going into the second half. It was tight for the majority of second half, Spain doing what they do well and passing around your team, but you and Kiera used what you’ve learned there to hold them. 

It was the 87th minute that La Reina, herself, scored the winner for Spain. The English team and fans could do nothing but tip their hats to the Spanish captain as it truly was the perfect goal to win a World Cup with, a beautiful passing display starting with their backline which found their captain sitting alone at the top of the box and hit a first time shot perfectly into the top corner. 

As soon as the whistle blew you fell to the ground with your head in your hands sobbing, severely disappointed for now the second time. So close to being on top of the world but failing right at the summit. 

Ona knew better than to come comfort you right away, in the years of you playing together and against she learned that more than comfort at first you simply needed time to yourself. If she were to come over to you now you would’ve just shoved her away and told her to go celebrate. 

It was after the medal ceremonies when she came and found you sitting on the turf knees tucked tight against your chest. She sat down next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders to pull you against her chest, “I’m so proud of you, mi amor,” She kissed your head.

Whenever you lost to the brunette, she always followed it up with this comment. She knew better than to apologize for winning as you would never take this from her. You let out a light chuckle, clearly still emotional, “Still can’t quite beat you, can I?”

Ona let out a breath when she heard you laugh, she was hoping to lighten the mood a bit, but didn’t expect for your comment to be the one that did it, “You’ll get to try again in four years, don’t worry.”

You sat up straight and turned so that you were facing he Spaniard, “You know if I can’t win them, I’m glad you’re the one beating me.”

She smiled and her cheeks reddened slightly at the comment. It was true if you weren’t the one winning you were glad the love of your life got to accomplish what was both of your dreams, “I take home the World Cup medals you bring home the Ballon D’ors.”

You laughed again, “I’ll see what I can do about that.” At just 26 years old you had won the last two Ballon D’ors, but you knew as well as anyone that after a World Cup year it would almost inevitably go to one of the winners.

“I think I know what could make you feel better,” You gave her a suggestive look, she leaned into whisper in your ear, “Vamos a tener un bebé.”

You couldn’t believe what you just heard and leaned back in shock, “What did you just say?”

Louder and in English this time, “Let’s have a baby.” 

The comment was dropped slightly to the Spaniard’s own surprise. She wasn’t expecting to say it at this time, but she had been thinking it for a while now. It slipped out in the moment of pure joy for her, and she couldn’t imagine a time better than coming off a World Cup win to start their family.

The topic has come up many times throughout your relationship, but always ended on saying that it was something for the future. Ona knew she wanted to carry for you both, but you always settled that it was something for the future, you didn’t want to interrupt the Spaniard’s career. However, there simply was nothing more than either of you wanted than to have a family one day, to get to see your love encompassed into a family. Both of yours love for family was one of the reasons you first fell in love, nothing came before family for either of you and that would one day include a family of your own. 

The conversation on the field quickly was pushed aside as you joined Ona and some of her Spanish teammates on their post-World Cup holiday. It was a vacation full of boats, sun, and many, many, drinks. You all had all agreed it was one of the nicest holidays and breaks from football you had in a while.

After returning from you holiday you both returned to your normal lives of training and preparing for matches. The topic still hadn’t been brought back up until one day after returning from training you noticed Ona was a bit quieter than usual at dinner.

“Is there something bothering you, mi amor? You’re quieter than usual.”

 “No, nothing is wrong,” Ona looked down at her plate as she spoke, in the tone reserved for when she was upset over something. It was quiet, slower, and slightly sharper causing her accent to come through a bit more in her English words.

“Babe, I can tell something is wrong, please tell me,” You were nearly pleading with her now, as your eyes searched her expressions for any details and as your mind raced through the contents of your day in efforts to find what had upset the short brunette.

She continued to look down at her plate, “It’s nothing I promise.”

Ona stood up from the table and collected the plates before walking into the kitchen and over to the sink. She began washing the dishes as you followed her to the kitchen. You stood a few feet away leaning against the counter, you didn’t want to startle the smaller girl by touching her, “Talk to me please, I want to help.”

She kept her focus on washing the dishes and spoke softly as if she was worried for your response, “I just thought we would talk about starting a family soon, but you don’t seem like you want to.”

Ona didn’t look towards you, but saw you freeze as soon as the words left her mouth. She was worried about your response so continued cleaning the dishes as if she hadn’t just dropped the one thing that hadn’t left your mind since the final. 

You walked over to her and gently reached for her chin to turn the Spaniard to face you, “What did you just say?” You said hushed, but sternly.

Ona’s cheeks flushed under your hand, “It’s just that you seemed excited at the final when I brought up having a baby, but you haven’t mentioned it since and I seriously meant it,” She began rambling when you suddenly cut her off with a soft kiss to her lips.

You leaned back slightly enough that she still felt your breath against her lips, “Sounds like were going to have a baby then.”

The shorter woman placed a hand against her chest and leaned back slightly with a big smile plastered against her face. Your free hand found its spot wrapped around her waist you hold her upright, “Really? You want to have a baby?”

You moved your hand holding her chin to the small of her back and pulled her flush against you, “Of course I want to have a baby with you, I didn’t want to bring it up because I didn’t want it to seem like I was pushing you. I don’t want you to feel like you have to put your career on hold for this.”

Ona’s hands found their place around your neck as she leaned into place a kiss to your cheek, “I don’t want to tell our kids stories of us playing, I want them to be able to be there, to be able to experience it themselves.”

You leaned in to passionately kiss her then pulled away with a gleaming smile, “Sounds like were going to have a baby then.”

You began the reciprocal IVF process almost immediately, both of you getting tested and screened to make sure that you both were in good enough health to begin the process. These thankfully all came back with positive results allowing for you to continue forward. 

There was worry and stress looming throughout your house during the early stages of the process. Many nights spent talking through fears and uncomfortable conversations which always ended in you both feeling more optimistic and hopeful.

Ona was there to hold your hand for every injection you took, and you were helping her with everything in the house to give her as little stress as possible. For every appointment she had you were sat right there next to her just as she did for you. You both knew that no matter what you were there for each other, and you’d be okay.

The egg retrieval day was stressful, you were worried about the procedure and weren’t quite fully sure what to expect, but as always Ona was right there for you calming you down as your leg bounced in the waiting room. Once you were in the room and the doctor walked you through what would happen you were much less stressed and more excited than ever to get further in the process.

After the first implantation you had to wait two weeks for the blood test to find out if it had stuck. It was a very anxious two weeks for you two full of trying to find ways to distract yourselves, and of Ona claiming she had symptoms even though you both knew it was too early for that. 

On the fourteenth day you were sat in the waiting room with your knee bouncing like there was no tomorrow. You wanted to be strong for Ona, but you knew you both were just as nervous as one another. The Spaniard was brough back alone at first to get the blood draw, but then was led to the room where you’d wait for the doctor.

Once you were brought back into the room you walked beside the bed your girlfriend laid on and took a hold of her hand. 

You brough the back of her hand to your lips to lay a kiss before you stood to look at her, “If we don’t get the news, we’re hoping for we’ll be okay. I’m still so proud of you and it won’t be your fault.”

Ona had a slight pout on her face and looked up at you with those deep brown eyes you had fallen in love with all those years ago, “I really hope it worked.”

You let up a small smile at her as you leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, “Me too baby, but it’s rare it sticks on the first try. We’ll be okay no matter what, we can try again whenever you’re ready if we have too.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you-”

You cut her off before she could finish, “You could never disappoint me, mi amor. I love you no matter what and I’m right here through it all.”

You both felt like you were drowning under the weight of the anxiety in the room but knew that no matter what either of you would say in that moment nothing could quite calm the nerves you both were feeling. 

You could’ve sworn time had never moved slower, as you stood there waiting for the doctor. There were so many times in your life, on and off the pitch, that you have wished to be able to freeze time and stay in those moments forever, but now more than ever you wished time would pass by sooner. You both wished to escape the anxious feeling deep in your bodies and for the doctor to come in and tell you the words you’ve been awaiting since beginning the process.

You were beginning to zone out, imagining a future with Ona and your family, when suddenly a slight knock on the door led in a woman dressed in a white coat holding a folder, with what you assumed were the results.

You were stood there trying to read the expressionless face of the doctor standing before you, trying to gauge any sense of what she was about to tell you both. “Are you both ready?”

Ona looked up at you, “God, I don’t know if I’m ready.”

You moved your hand to rub it along the side of Ona’s face when the doctor spoke again, “Trust me you want to know.”

Ona’s head whipped around back to the doctor, you swear she could’ve gotten whiplash, “What?”

“Congratulations, you’re officially two weeks pregnant.”

Ona collapsed back onto the bed as tears immediately filled both of your eyes. You had a hand covering your shocked expression, and Ona had one covering her tearful eyes. 

You leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple, “You did it, mi amor, we’re going to have a baby,” You whispered through tears.

She looked up at you with matching tear-filled eyes, “Lo hicimos, hay un bebé ahí adentro,” You hand found its place on the side of her face as the other one still hasn’t let up its grip on her hand. 

Once you both were recovered enough to refocus on the doctor, she explained further into what expect for the coming weeks and advice on keeping Ona as healthy as possible for the baby.

You listened as closely as possible as you knew you were going to do everything you could for them both, starting now.

[tired-teacher-blog]

Characters : Hawks/ Fem reader

Warnings and Genre : NSFW/ 18+/ Bondage and Blindfolding (light)/ Oral Sex (Fem receiving)

Notes : I guess it has become customary for me to write a little something about Hawks on my birthday 😆

Masterlist|Second Masterlist|Third Masterlist

_ "Fuckin' perfect." a low growl left his throat as the bed creaked under his weight, your breathing was labored and body was tense while you feebly tugged at the black fluffy handcuffs around your wrists.

Your eyes moved frantically under the silk blindfold, striving to catch a glimpse of the man responsible for this.

_ "Don't struggle gorgeous, I don't want you getting hurt." it was pitch black all over, but your heightened senses were picking up his every move.

A fluffy wet feeling pecked at your belly, moving lower and lower until reaching the delicate lace trim of your panties.

_ "Wait.. Keigo." the clinking of the chain connecting your wrists was loud and piercing, but for some reason did not overpower the chuckle he let out from between your legs.

_ "What is it beautiful? Am I not allowed to express my love?" his warm breath fanned over your burning skin as he teased you again.

You shook your head fervently and arched off the bed in a pathetic attempt to get him to carry on, and the muffled laughter leaving his throat was now vibrating against your concealed pussy as he pressed his lips there.

The tension was already building up in the pit of your tummy, and you almost cursed out the delicate garment still separating you– had you trusted your voice at all, but you didn't.

_ "Okay princess, I get it." and he waisted no time stripping you off of the remaining piece hiding you away from his eager eyes.

Your skin tingled with anticipation as he kissed along your inner thigh, and even with your eyes covered, you could still imagine him perfectly: a smug smirk slapped across his face, an intense stare in his blazing golden irises, feathery blond hair in an unruly mess, and thick eyebrows knitted in concentration as he pleasured you.

It's the same face he makes each and every time he goes down on you, one that makes you wonder if he's doing it for his own pleasure or yours.

_ "Please hurry, Keigo." you could no longer hide your impatience, neither did you care to do so.

He hummed in compliance before licking a teasing line along your slit, and the unmistakable feeling of his slick tongue shook you to the core while his name left you in a strangled moan.

The bruising clutch on your thighs kept them apart as he delved in like a starved dog, sucking the sensitive clit into his mouth and growling in pure bliss.

_ "Keigo not so hard please! I'm losing my mind!" you tilted your head back while he licked his way into your throbbing walls, struggling through the fluffy restraints as you needed to lay your hands on him already.

Your body reacted on its own towards his relentless teasing as you blindly, and shakily, reached out to your beloved, one hand bumping into his shoulder while the other rested on his head, grabbing onto his thick hair before shamelessly pushing his face deeper against you, an action that seemed to drive him further to madness.

_ "Fuck, I just can't get enough of you princess." and his slurred statement was laced with obscene slurping noises and satisfied hums that vibrated deep within you.

He was barely holding on to his sanity already, and you could tell from the sound of his fluttering crimson wings as he squirmed and fiddled around while lapping up your swollen love bud and nibbling on the reddening lips surrounding it.

You ached for him, for a peek at the man doing wonders to you, but knew that you weren't allowed until he says so, after all, that was the rule of this little game of yours.

His warm hands released your thighs to slide along your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they caressed you gently.

_ "Delicious." his playful remark tickled your weeping cunt, and your trembling legs strived to encase him between them while his tongue carried on moving deep and slow within you.

_ "Keigo keep going please, please." your heart pounded harshly in your chest as you uttered the demand, and the chain rattled obnoxiously as your body jerked with his every thrust.

His fingers roamed your whole body, kneading and squeezing your flesh before slowly moving down to join his mouth, and you knew what that meant, though you weren't sure if you'd be able to handle any more of his taunting behavior as you've just about reached your limit.

_ "I'm so close!" you wished he would at least remove the blindfold so you could see his face while cumming, but you knew he wouldn't, that was the rule you agreed upon.

Your breath got caught in your throat as he retracted his tongue and kissed your clit, rubbing two fingers along your wetness to slowly ease them past your welcoming slit.

You were a wreck, shattering and twisting uncontrollably under his brute dominance as his fingers took control, and he loved having you under his mercy.

His lips kissed along your trembling thighs, and his long digits curled up to stroke that one particular sweet spot he knew too well.

_ "Wait.. please, that's too much! Keigo!" and you finally found your voice, crying out a warning followed by his name as you gave in to a splintering orgasm, shuddering violently and coating the fingers still moving inside of you before relaxing at last.

Your ears buzzed and your whole body tingled as you were still surrounded with total darkness, but then a clicking sound announced your release from the confining cuffs as they were finally unlocked.

_ "That's my girl, you've done a wonderful job sweetheart." and it was time for the blindfolds to go, leaving you facing a tantalizing view that you regretted missing this whole time.

Your boyfriend was mere inches away from you, messy hair after all you've done to it, pink cheeks that hinted at his own unfulfilled arousal, majestic wings spread out in a menacing way, and glossy lips covered with your fresh essence, a view that stirred you up and simply mesmerized you.

_ "So how's my princess feeling?" his sweet smile coaxed your own to appear.

_ "Perfect.." and you breathed out drowsily, eyes already half closed.

_ "Well I hope you're not trying to sleep already, because we have just begun." he chuckled delightfully while pressing his stiff bulge against your thigh.

You've had your fun already, and it was time for him to have his own..

Dividers by : @/cafekitsune

[alotofpockets]

Soft spot | Daphne van Domselaar

Pairing: Daphne van Domselaar x Nedwnt!Reader

Summary: You're known as a tough person but Daphne is your soft spot. [requested]

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

Over the course of your career you had built up a reputation as a tough person. The reputation had started on the pitch, the fans always seeing your ruthless defending, searching for the limits with every tackle and shove you handed out. The reputation grew when the team started sharing more behind the scenes with the world. Most of your teammates were very touchy and always hugging in one way or another, while you were not a fan of physical contact.

There was just one exception to your toughness, and that was Daphne van Domselaar. She brought out your soft side, more often than not. You were a whole different person when you were around her. So, it was no surprise to your Dutch teammates when the two of you had started dating. 

You walked into the conference room where you were meeting with the team before your match tonight, going over the tactics one last time. “Here you go.” You say as you hand Daphne a cup of coffee, and sit down next to her with your own. “What about me?” Daan asks. You shrug, “You know where to find the coffee machine.” The girl simply rolls her eyes and gets up to grab her own cup of coffee. 

After the meeting everyone heads to the bus where you take your usual spot next to Daphne. Your pre-game bus ritual consisted of listening to music with your headphones on, Daphne didn’t mind the quiet bus partner, she knew by the end of the drive you would either be cuddled up against her side, or laying with your legs over hers. The latter was the case today, she smiled when you shifted in your seat and looked up at her to silently ask if it was okay. Daphne nodded, and went on with her conversation with Jackie who was sitting in the row next to you. You put your legs over hers and closed your eyes again.

Like usual, you threw everything at the match, making many clean tackles left and right. Your high pressure defending had helped turn the direction of play many times, always being able to send the ball forward to one of the midfielders. The team had worked hard on quick turnovers during training, and you were putting all that hard work to practice during this game. 

Your opponents were rushing forward with the ball, and you were defending the player with the ball. She had some fast footwork but you weren’t fooled by her fancy tricks, and managed to kick the ball through her own legs. You smirk as you pick up the ball on the other side of the player, and shoot it to Jackie. Jackie was able to run through the midfield without many players on her and was able to pick out Viv in front of her, delivering her a perfect ball, which the striker shot beautifully into the far corner. 

The match continues, and your opponents are even more fired up now as they are behind a goal. Sherida made a hard tackle on her end of the defense line, trying to stop the opposing player from moving forward but was carded for a foul, and a free kick was given.

The free kick was taken and the ball curled around the wall, the ball landed in the crowded box. An opposing player got to it first, effectively turning, and trying a shot at goal. Daphne had to fully extend her arms to block the shot from going into the bottom right corner. She managed to stop the ball from going into the goal, but since it bounced off of her, the ball was back into play. You run to the left side of the goal, knowing that if they shoot in that direction, Daphne wouldn’t be able to make it in time. The keeper is up by the time the shot was taken, but still on the wrong side of the goal. You quickly put your arms behind your back as the ball comes flying in your direction. You jump up as they are going for the top right corner, and manage to head the ball over the goal post. 

Daphne jumps into your arms in celebration, and you hold her tight. “That was incredible.” She spoke into your ear, loud enough to be heard over the crowd that was still cheering. “You were pretty incredible yourself.” You kiss her cheek quickly, before you part ways for the corner kick to be taken. A few of your teammates pat you on the back as you walk past them, showing their appreciation for your quick thinking. 

The match continued and your team eventually won the match with a score of 0-1, Viv’s goal giving you the win. The score also meant that Daphne was able to keep a clean sheet. An accomplishment that she was proud of but knew she also had you to thank for. So, she posted her celebration with you to her story.

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daphnevdomselaar just posted to their story

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To celebrate the win, you and Daphne went out for dinner. Since you were away with the whole team a lot, you and Daphne had decided to go out for dinner with just the two of you in every new place that you visited for a match. It was a nice way to spend more time together, as well as explore the places you stayed in. 

Daphne loved documenting her life through photo dumps on her Instagram, your camp date nights had gotten their own special dump.

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daphnevdomselaar just posted

Liked by daniellevddonk and others

daphnevdomselaar: another camp, another date dump. You know the drill :)

Load more comments

daniellevddonk: SOFTIE ALERT

↳ y/n_y/l/n: shut it

jackie_groenen_14: Cuties

y/n_y/l/n: Why are you exposing me like this...

↳ daphnevdomselaar: 😘

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You might act as if you don’t like her exposing your soft side to the world but in reality you didn’t care what the world thought. Daphne was your soft spot, and you wouldn’t change that for the world. You loved her, and wanted people to see the love that the two of you shared.

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💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[forsaire]

How Ghost and Soap demonstrate the five love languages to each other. They don't have just one as they will shower each other in love in every single way they can 😊😊

Physical Touch

Ghost loves touching Soap’s face. He’ll gently cup the side of his face and let his fingers trace down his chin, cheeks, and lips until he’s memorized every mark and feel even with his eyes closed. Ghost revels in the way that Soap looks up at him with complete trust and feels privileged he’s able to look into those beautiful blue eyes for one day more.

Ghost can’t get enough of Soap’s strong thighs either, their size just perfect for grabbing onto. He’s also quite the fan of a cheeky little ass grab when he’s feeling particularly frisky.

Soap loves touching Ghost’s hands and hair. Soap has gotten into the habit of absentmindedly playing with Ghost’s fingers when they sit together for meals, talk, watch a movie, or even rest their eyes in bed before falling asleep. He loves these hands that Ghost so often says are killer’s hands. But they feel so soft under Soap’s touch as Ghost allows them to be controlled so easily and maneuvered without fear.

Soap will also curl his fingers through Ghost’s hair, gently tugging at the strands and scratching his scalp in the way he knows Ghost likes. He usually tends to do this in the evening or when Ghost can’t sleep. Under his soothing touch, Ghost will quickly relax and soon be overtaken by sleep once again.

Words of Affirmation

Ghost hasn’t always had the most eloquent way of speaking. Words don’t necessarily come easy to him and he struggles with the awkward feel of them in his mouth some days. Often times, the words that Ghost expresses have deeper meanings that they both understand.

“Stay sharp.” – Stay safe. I can’t lose you.

“Do you want something to eat?” – Let me take care of you.

“I’m with you.” – I love you.

He way he speaks Johnny’s name is so tender and sweet that it can convey everything he ever wanted to say.

Soap on the other hand doesn’t have the same troubles with his words. He’s like a bull in a china shop in a sense. He has no reservation to say he loves Ghost’s. But one of his favourite things to do is pepper Ghost’s cheeks with kisses and softly whisper how beautiful he is into his skin. He’ll do it over and over again until he’s rewarded with a faint blush that spreads across Ghost’s cheeks.

Quality Time

Soap is an avid football fan and loves to watch the games on TV, getting very animated and passionate when he does so. Ghost isn’t that interested in the sport, but he still enjoys sitting next to Soap while they’re happening. He finds great entertainment in watching Soap’s face light up with happiness or fall in despair. Soap is also so passionate when he tries to tell Ghost who all the players are, what teams to root for, and even all the drama that has unfolded off the pitch. Although Ghost was never a huge football fan when he was younger, he recently found himself cheering for an amazing save alongside Soap during one of playoff matches.

Ghost is a fairly decent cook, having had to teach himself at such a young age, while Soap tends to like things that are done fast and easy. They enjoy cooking together, even if Soap just acts like an assistant the whole time. At first Soap was only allowed to cut certain vegetables and stir but the two of them have enjoyed learning together.

They both love going for drives and being outside when they’re on leave together. They’ll plan to enjoy the fresh air of a hike, climb, or swim when they get the chance. They’ll be out for 12 hours a day and come home exhausted to fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Acts of Service

With Ghost having overused his body as a weapon for so long, he tends to get sore nowadays. When Soap notices one of these days, he will happily provide Ghost with a massage, especially around his shoulders and back. Rolling out the knots and pain, Soap will watch as Ghost melts under his firm and delicate touches.

Ghost also tends to forget to charge his phone at night, so Soap will do it for him. Usually Soap will find his phone buried in the bedsheets and put it to charge after Ghost has fallen asleep or he’ll remember to do it in the middle of the night. Ghost’s phone has never run out of battery but not for a lack of Ghost trying. To this day, Soap thinks Ghost still doesn’t realize.

Ghost will clean Soap’s weapons and sharpen his knives whenever he is doing his own. He always makes sure to take extra care with Soap’s belonging because it could be a matter of life and death. And Ghost is going to make sure they both come home at the end of the day.

Ghost also doesn’t mind cleaning, the monotony and routine of it comforting in a way. He never thought he would get the chance to do domestic things so it welcomes it when he can and enjoys the feeling of being “normal”.

Gift Giving

Neither of them tend to give each other many gifts and only do it occasionally. Their lives in the military have taught them to be able to pack light and move fast. Both of them find that no object can ever replace the excitement and joy they get from just being together.

After they get married, Soap gifts Ghost a set of dog tags engraved with Simon MacTavish. Professionally, Ghost still answers to Riley – they learned this the hard way with a couple of mishaps and callouts to the wrong person while on a mission which led to undue confusion. Therefore it made sense to keep separate names while on a mission. But everywhere else in Ghost’s life, he is a MacTavish through and through.

Ghost always knows when Soap is nearing the end of his notebook and gets him a new one before its done. He will also give Soap a new set of nice pencils to work with as well.

But the most important gift they ever gave each other was their simple, gold wedding bands that lay proudly on their hands.

[macabr3-barbi3]

loved this one WHEW 💕🥵

Tags: Daddy kink, that's it, that's the whole fic

🩵❤️🩵❤️🩵

The first time Vox calls himself ‘Daddy’ while you’re fucking him you freeze up so immediately that he thinks he’s done something wrong. “Fuck, baby, taking Daddy so well,” he had muttered in your ear, and the sharp, sudden swoop of arousal in your gut had caught you off guard, moan choking off into a high pitched whine as your body went still. He looks down at you, expression twisted in concern as he realizes what he had said and blushes, pixels going pink. “Sorry, sorry,” he mutters, and resumes railing you as normal, hand slipping between your bodies to rub at your clit. You bite your lip as you cum to hold back the title, head thrown back while Vox finds his own release and you wonder what to do with this new information.

You keep your distance for a few days, keeping occupied with busy work- you paint the living room of your shared floor in Vee Tower, offer to help Velvette with one of her shows, make sure that Valentino’s actors have a steady supply of food and drink in the studio. You don’t let Vox touch you for a week, despite your obvious need and his growing frustration. Finally on Sunday, when he lets Katie Killjoy take over the evening news, he comes home to the trap you’ve set. As soon as you hear the elevator door open with a ding you let out a loud moan from the bedroom, a siren call for Vox to come in and see you spread across the sheets of the bed you share, skin bared and your fingers working tirelessly between your legs. 

“H- hey baby,” he manages to get out, a glitch flashing across his screen as he approaches, fingers reaching for you before he’s even close enough to the bed to touch. “Fuck, look at you- soaked and ready for me, huh?” He slides a hand down the length of your thigh towards your core, swearing under his breath when you grab his hand and guide his fingers to the slick folds of your cunt.

“Please, Daddy,” you whine, and his fans let out a wheeze in place of an actual breath as he crouches over you, his screen dropping for a moment so you’re looking at the back of it instead of his face. 

When he looks back up to you his eyes are narrowed, mouth hanging open and his tongue out- he drags it up the length of your body from pelvis to tits, letting his sharp teeth scrape the sensitive nipple before he pulls off. He presses a finger into you, then a second when he finds that you’re already open and desperate. “Goddamn, doll, you didn’t have to blueball me all week for this,” he mutters. “You could’ve just asked- Daddy’s gonna give it to you either way.”

There’s the feeling again, that sharp shock of pleasure and arousal at the term, pussy clenching hard around his digits. “Please, I need it,” you whimper, and he pulls his fingers from your body and curls his tongue around them, using his other hand to line his cock up with your dripping slit and pushing in with a sharp thrust. “Oh fuck-”

“That’s right, sweetheart, Daddy’ll take care of you,” he growls, hooking his arms under your knees and dragging you further towards the edge of the bed. “So fucking perfect for me, taking my cock- you like that?” He slams his hips into you, fucking you with the conviction of a man possessed. Your fingers fly down to the bed, digging harsh lines into the sheets with the pressure from your claws.

“God, please,” you beg, already close on your own, the hard length of him spearing you hurtling you ever closer to that edge. “Daddy- Vox, please,”

He snarls, sharp teeth snapping as he leans in closer and folds you nearly in half. “Should’ve known- I thought you froze up ‘cause you were didn’t like it, baby, didn’t realize you were embarrassed by how much you fuckin’ wanted it.” He angles your hips, drives himself into you harder, faster, the sounds of skin slapping echoing in the room along with the groans and whimpers that he’s drawing from you.

“Fuck,” you whine, the words tearing from your mouth- you can almost feel the wave behind your eyes , waiting to crest, searching for that final shove to break the tension. “Fuck, gonna- please, Daddy, I need it-” Every time you say it his hips jerk, shoving more forcefully into your wet cunt, claws digging into the flesh of your hips.  

Vox’s left eye swirls, no power behind it, just showing how overwhelmed he is as well when he lets go of your leg on one side to rub forcefully at the bundle of nerves above your drenched pussy, where he’s got you stuffed full of him. “Go ahead, beautiful, cum on Daddy’s cock, show me how pretty-”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, your keening cry as the pressure inside of you releases, drowning him out. Your soft walls clamp down on him, the rippling muscles pulling at the rigid length of his cock inside of you, coaxing him into his own orgasm right behind you. Your mind is fuzzy, but still aware enough that his grunts of “fuck baby, take Daddy’s cum, good girl” light up the pleasure center in your brain as he floods you in long pulses. His hips jerk and stutter against you until he finally collapses against you, screen pressed gently into your bare chest and leaving little kisses on your skin.

“Fuck me,” he says, and you can’t help but giggle, running your fingers over the little ports on the back of his head, relishing in his shiver at the touch. “Why didn’t you just tell me you liked it? You didn’t have to spring a trap.”

“God forbid a woman have hobbies.” He pulls out and flops onto the bed next to you, allowing you to roll and rest your head on his chest. “Besides, this was more fun.”

“You should greet Daddy like this after work more often then, doll-”

“Don’t fuckin’ push it,” you tell him, and his rumbling laughter where you’re pressed against him is relaxing, wrapping his arms around you in a firm, secure embrace.

[lettersofgold]

-> a glimpse of us | jules kounde

jules k. x wife!mom!back!reader

genre: fluff - warning: loosely edited

authors note: couldn’t get this out of my head so i decided to share it with my jules girlies. he would be the sweetest boy dad.

“he’s the sweetest baby, mi amor.” inĩgo’s wife fawned over your baby boy, emile, who stumbled around the pitch, waving and shouting excitedly at anyone who looked his way. he loved to bury himself in your legs when a woman smiled back at him, finding it so comical that they noticed him as if he hadn’t been trying to get their attention all along. he placed his small hands on the ground to steady himself as he plopped down onto the grass - he began to squeal at the feeling of the pitch underneath his fingers. emile loved to touch whatever was near him - from his bucket hat, to pulling out the laces of his shoes, emile kept himself distracted. the amount of kids screaming and running around the pitch alongside the fans shouting to grab the team’s attention as they walked out onto the pitch would send most babies into a panic. laurent wasn’t most babies, though. he was a perfect mix of you and jules.

“gracias.” you beamed. you couldn’t remember your life before your husband jules and emile. without jules, you wouldn’t be in this gorgeous place feeling so loved and cared for. “he’s so precious, i feel so lucky to be his mama.”

jules took his time getting to the middle of the pitch. he allowed himself the time to snap a few photos with fans and sign autographs. there was nothing you loved more than seeing him interact with his fans, so you snapped a photos of your own before tucking your phone away. as he headed in your direction, your smile grew bigger at the change of proximity, unable to fight the excitement that rushed through you. he was only a few steps away when ran into him and congratulated him on the team’s victory , showering him with compliments and “i love you’s.” jules eyes were red from the champagne showers and tears of joy. the last time you saw him cry was when he held your son in his arms for the first time after hours of labor. jules told you that he had fallen in love with you all over again during your labor and his heart was so full that he wanted to have another baby, soon.

“où est mon petit garçon?” (where’s my baby boy?)

jules turned before he crouched down to pick up his son who was just as eager to see him, wrapping his arms around his jules’ neck. emile buried his head into his dad’s nape, his sneaker clad feet wiggling the entire time. jules was naturally rougher with emile, tipping him backwards and upside down just to hear his laugh echo through the air. it never failed to make you stress seeing jules rough house with despite knowing jules would never let anything bad happen. it was the part of being a mom no one warned you about: your husband carrying your baby in the most absurd ways and earning nothing but giggles in return.

“as-tu vu papa?” (did you see papa?) jules asked, receiving an eager nod from the toddler.

“coup, coup!” (kick, kick) emile exclaimed. his vocabulary was expanding each day but his favorite words seemed to revolve around football, much to jules delight. jules was certain that emile was going to take the entire football industry by storm, despite the boy having barely kicked a ball.

“oui, coup.” (yes, kick.) your husband peppered him with a few more kisses before letting emile go and join the rest of the kids on the pitch mimicking the last minutes of the game, falling over one another to get to the ball. emile ran behind the group more than he actually played but he was happy with that, clapping and yelling “coup, coup!” to the other kids.

“comment te sens-tu?” (how are you feeling?) you asked, placing your hand on his back. his eyes crinkled as he smiled down at you and your heart fluttered at the eye contact. jules had not slowed down for a moment since he became a father - his drive for success only doubled with the arrival of your son. you were scared it was going to be too much for him to handle but in the end, after endless sleepless nights, sacrificing his sleep for yours despite having to be up early, he was a champion once more.

“mon corps me fait tellement mal, si je suis honnête.” (my body hurts so fucking bad if we’re being honest.) jules laughed. you rubbed his back affectionately and made him promise to actually rest for once in his life. you were looking forward to slow mornings with the sun on your skin, with him in your arms.

“are you going to take me on that vacation you promised me?” you moved to stand in front of him, resting your arms on his shoulders and crossed your wrists behind his head.

“are you going to give emile a sibling?” he smirked bringing his face closer to yours.

“mmm, we can definitely practice. emile is just a baby.” you countered.

“the closer the better, no?” jules countered, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“déjame tomarte una foto, vamos, muévete.” (let me take your photo, c’mon, move.) inĩgo’s wife ordered the two of you and you followed her instructions. a few of jules teammates whistled and cheered teasingly. the two of you were among the youngest of the team but were a main staple of keeping the friendships alive between everyone. you couldn’t count the amount of times you hosted people at your home in the countryside, opening your doors for the rookies and veterans alike. even the coaches dotted on the two of you. the wags threw you an entire baby shower outside of the one your family and friends planned.

as you held on to your husband, all you could think about was the fact you had been there for him for years - praying and fostering his success. you’d learned so much about yourself in the process. emile didn’t let the two of you hold onto each other long without interrupting, asking to be held. you had so much love in your life you weren’t sure what to do with it, but as jules cooed and directed emile’s eyes towards the camera it all seemed to fall into place. you wanted another baby and wanted an entire lifetime with your little family. with the glimpse of the future in your eyes, you smiled even wider.

jkey14: all for you, all for us 🖤

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 3)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (3)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Jordan had a big smile on her face when she saw YFN. She pulled over at the front of her hotel and put the window down.

“Allo mate, need a lift?”

“I don’t have any money, sorry.”

Jordan opened her mouth in an amused and fake offended ‘O’. “You’re takin’ the mick.”

YFN laughed and slid into the passenger seat. “Do you charge by the hour or…?”

Jordan laughed loudly and slapped her arm. “Too expensive for you, mate.”

She began driving. YFN loved seeing this side of Jordan. The side that seemed much more natural, and much more of the Jordan that Lucy was describing last night.

“Wherrrrrre are we going?”

“I was thinking coffee and then shopping? Also, I’m assuming you don’t have any football gear to wear to the game tomorrow?”

“Hm, you are correct there.”

“Oh, Lucy is going to love seeing you in a Bronze jersey.”

YFN blushed and looked over, surprised.

“What? She loves seeing people in her jersey. Plus, you don’t know anybody else on the team, do you?”

“That’s a negative, and what number is she?”

“2.”

“Oh, my favourite. Okay, let’s get a Bronze jersey. Should we get the home or away kit?”

Jordan laughed. “Wow, look at you! Someone’s been doing their research!”

YFN grinned. “I love blue but the internet says something about it being a bad luck kit…?”

“Oh poppycock. Blue would be perfect with your eyes.”

YFN laughed. “Oh, and I also want an Australian flag.”

Although they only planned on a few hours, the two spent all day together. The atmosphere was great, they both bantered like they’d known each other for years. They wandered around town with iced drinks, stopped for breakfast, then lunch, and Jordan even taught her how to kick a soccer ball on an empty pitch, as well as teaching her some rules. YFN did try to incorporate some tackles to which Jordan gave her red cards for. They collected some free merchandise for the game from people in the club who Jordan knew and managed to find an Australian flag also. The day was fantastic, and of course they ended it on the beach with some fish and chips, Jordan making YFN try it with curry sauce. It confused the hell out of her, but she admitted it was decent.

The next day Jordan picked up YFN again early and they went for lunch. They had decided the day before that they wanted to catch up earlier before they headed to the game. At lunch, Jordan asked YFN about her job and what she did. She was a writer and loved to write fantasy. She’d been working for a newspaper before she left and had a very popular daily column with a lot of fans, but she left because she lost her passion for it. And so, she decided to travel to gain inspiration and get back into writing fantasy with the hope of publishing and travelling the world. Jordan was wowed by this and admitted to wishing she had the creativity for it. About five minutes later though, it seemed she had completely forgotten the conversation though, and had to ask again. YFN laughed, this had happened a few times with her the day before and so she lovingly gave Jordan the nickname ‘Dory’.

The seats for the game were in the perfect spot, just adjacent to where the team benches were. The two were dressed up, laughing at their awkwardness as they made their way down to their seats with arms of popcorn, hotdogs, and drinks. They reached their seats and were greeted by a loud man and his adorable family. YFN didn’t need a degree to figure out who it was. Jordan introduced him as Jorge Bronze, Lucy’s big brother, and his family. He gave Jordan a hug and kiss, and she picked up the kids and gave them kisses also. Jorge dragged YFN into a strong hug they took their seats next to them. It felt like a huge family affair and made YFNs heart swell with happiness. Her family life was not so joyful, and so this was a happy change. A few other friends came over to say hi to Jordan and she introduced them to YFN. They were friends, other football players, or partners of friends.

Shortly before the game, the teams ran out onto the field to warm up. The crowd seemed to yell extra loudly as Lucy came out onto the field, Jorge was the loudest of all. One kid in his arm and a drink in the other, he yelled at the top of his lungs “LUCYLUCY. LUCYLUCY.” Many people were yelling it like a chant, and Jorge recorded it for his social media. YFN couldn’t keep her eyes off of Lucy. She oozed confidence. Her dark hair was up in a messy bun, and she looked a bit different without her glasses, but a good different. YFN bit her lip, thinking her football gear was a welcome sight. She couldn’t help but see the muscles through her clothes, particularly the thigh muscles when she walked. Lucy jogged around without a care, chewing gum and laughing with her teammates. At one point in time, she even sat on a football and just watched as the others warmed up.

“Hey Dory, what’s she doing?” YFN asked Jordan.

Jordan leaned into YFN to yell over the crowd. “Who? Lucy? Oh, her knee is really bad. Like really, really bad. She’s had a lot of surgeries and she’s always in pain. She just tries to keep off it before and after games really.”

As if Lucy had heard them, she looked up and caught sight of her group. Her eyes wandered along her family who were crazily waving until she reached Jordan and YFN. She grinned when she saw YFN wearing her jersey with that little dimpled smile on her face. It suited her, she thought. Being in the crowd with her family and friends, wearing a Bronze jersey, and holding an Australian flag with pride. She and Jordan had painted the flag on their cheeks also, fully supporting their friend. Lucy wanted nothing more than to walk over and talk to them, but she knew she was supposed to be warming up. She settled for a big childish wave and re-joined her team.

Ten minutes later they left the field, Lucy waving at her section and grinning from ear to ear as she left. Soon enough after, the crowd roared as the teams entered the stadium, holding hands with their mascots. Lucy was last in line, swinging arms with her little mascot. They stood for the national anthems and after a quick team photo, the game was underway. YFN couldn’t tell if she was just biased, but it was pretty obvious to her that Lucy was the most intelligent on the field. When she didn’t see an opening she liked, she passed the ball back to the defender next to her who Jordan said was “Millie Bright – acting Captain.” She pushed up the field hard during the first half of the game, and very nearly scoring on several occasions.

“Wow, Lucy is ON FIRE today! LUCYLUCY!” Jorge shouted. “THAT’S MY SISTER!”

“I haven’t seen her play this good is a while!” Jordan shouted in YFN’s ear.

A long shot came towards the goal and Lucy was sprinting from nowhere, her speed was incredible. She leapt, heading the ball and the goalkeeper tipped it. The ball hit the crossbar and bounced back into play. One of Lucy’s teammates were in the perfect position for the rebound and struck the ball, side-netting it. The crowd groaned loudly.

“COME ON LESS!” Jordan yelled encouragingly.

“COME ON RUSSO! WHY IS LUCY OUR BEST STRIKER!” A yell came from behind them in the crowd.

YFN was confused. Jordan saw her confusion. “Lucy is a defender, not a striker. Not even a midfielder. She shouldn’t be the most dangerous striker for us today but she’s just playing so well. The other girls aren’t doing well enough to be honest.”

That made sense to her. Lucy was compensating for her team. All of her discussions with Jordan the day before about Lucy being overly competitive and not liking to lose were becoming more obvious. YFN loved it and joined in on the shouting for England’s number 2.

The whistle blew to signal half time and the scores were still 0-0. During the break the pair took Lucy’s niece and nephew up to the bathroom and brought back more snacks for the Bronze family. They settled back down when YFN noticed that Jordan was tense and uncomfortably shifting.

“What’s the matter?” YFN asked.

Jordan leant over to talk in her ear, not loud enough that anyone else would hear it. “My ex is here. A few rows behind us. She waved at me.”

YFN pulled back with wide, worried eyes. “Oh Jordan, are you okay?”

“I don’t know. We’re still friends and I think she’s a lovely person, but I just feel so uncomfortable right now. She going to want to try and speak to me after this.”

“And you don’t want to?”

“She going to try and speak to me like everything’s normal when it’s not. I don’t think I have the capacity.”

YFN put her arm around Jordan and pulled her close. “You need to tell her that you need space. Because right now, even though you’re replying the bare minimum to her, it’s still coming across like you’re okay to casually chat to her when you know you need your space to heal.”

“You’re right.” She groaned. “I just don’t want to come across nasty at all. She’s such a good person.”

“Protect yourself first. Heal a bit. And only then can you try to have normal conversations with her, hm?”

The teams came back out then, and the second half began. Jordan’s mood picked up as she was lost again in the screaming, but unlike YFN, she was yelling their names.

Lucy played even better the second half, giving so many chances to her teammates to score. She went down, hard at one point, literally tumbling over like a gymnast and the crowd seemed to think this was normal.

“NEVER A GOOD GAME UNLESS LUCY IS FLYING!”

“LUCIA!”

“LUCYLUCY!”

“BRONZEYYYYY!”

She got back up and jogged back over to her spot a bit stiffly. YFN was in awe of her resilience. Eventually the 90 minutes were up and they were given +2 minutes. Just when all seemed like it was about to be over, Lucy scored. And it was beautiful. Just like last time she came sprinting from absolutely nowhere however this time she volleyed the ball into the net, hard. So hard the net must have broken. The stadium erupted, they all leapt to their feet screaming at the top of their lungs. Jordan and YFN grabbed each other, jumping up and down. Popcorn flew all around. Lucy was bombarded by her teammates leaping onto her. Looking up at the big screen, YFN could better see the massive grin spread across her face. Of course she scored.

“GOAL FOR ENGLAND NUMBER 2, LUCY BRONZE!”

The stadium erupted again.

Play resumed for the last 20 seconds, and the whistle ended the match to a stadium still cheering for Lucy.

Jorge was again filming on his phone, kid in one arm and phone in the other. “AW TOO BAD SO SAD.” He cackled as he filmed the other team. YFN laughed at the absurdity of it. She looked around at the packed stadium. It was all insane.

“AND YOUR PLAYER OF THE MATCH IS… LUCY BRONZE!”

Lucy received even more yelling and applauses. She shook hands with both teams and then was dragged into an interview on the pitch while her teammates signed autographs and gave out some of their match worn gear to the crowd. When Lucy finished the interview, she immediately hobbled over to her section and jumped up to lean over the barriers. Jorge and her family got to her first and pulled her into big hugs and kisses. They took some selfies and then Lucy moved over to grab Jordan into an all-encompassing hug.

“I’m so proud of you.” Jordan cried, tears welling. Lucy grinned and pulled back, looking at YFN and opening her arms cheekily. YFN laughed and wrapped her arms around her in a tight, warm hug. Of course, Lucy’s hugs were amazing.

“I’m sorry, I probably don’t smell the best right now.”

“You smell like success to me.” YFN kept holding tight for as long as Lucy was, though Lucy was doing the same. They both gave up eventually so as to not give any wrong impressions to photographers or the crowd around them.

“Nice jersey. Would you like me to sign it?”

“Depends, how much would it be worth?”

Lucy rolled her eyes and took a sharpie from her brother. She shifted YFN’s hair back gently to sign her jersey over her collarbone. She couldn’t help but notice YFNs perfume. The same perfume that was on her hoody when she had given it back a few days before. A shiver went up her spine as she tried to focus on writing neatly.

“Mine too please!” Jordan quipped. Lucy signed her jersey also.

“Oh, and this please!” YFN held up her Australian flag. Lucy grinned, rolling her eyes again and signed her flag. YFN couldn’t help but stare at her, the big grin taking over her face, her hair curling at the sides where she’d been sweating, and those big green eyes. They locked eyes for a moment but both broke contact almost immediately as it affected them both so intensely. No way would they be able to keep it normal in front of so many people. They felt each other shiver and saw each other smile. Nobody seemed to notice.

“I hear there’s a dinner party tonight!” Jorge almost yelled.

“Ohhhh yeah. Family and friends. I told them you’d all be there. You’re all coming, right?” She looked at Jordan a little worried, presumably because her ex would be there.

Jordan looked at YFN. “Stuff it. Yeah, we’ll be there.”

[gavisfanta]

CELEBRATION - PEDRI

summary: headcanon of id imagine pedri celebrating winning laliga if you were his gf

warnings: nonee, english is non-existent in this... idk what i was doing sorry. not proofread

You would be at home with all your wag friends, watching the game against Espanyol anxiously. Pedri wanted you to travel with him and he would've been ready paying for all the costs but you declined his offer.

All the wags stayed at home and since you were a new wag they told you to just stay here and wait until they come home. If they really win Laliga that game, you all would've gone to Esportiva and waited for the bus.

Pedri wasn't exactly happy with your decision because he wanted to have you there but you assured him that it would be fine. So as he traveled on the bus with the team he talked to Ferran and Frenkie.

"It's probably better that they're not here" Ferran told them to which Pedri was a bit shocked but he understood what Ferran meant after he explained himself.

"Listen if we win, we'll have some time to celebrate with the team only, at home you will have time to spend time with her all you want." Frenkie agreed to what Ferran said so Pedri went on with that motivation.

As soon as the final whistle was blown, Pedri ran to hid teammates to immediately celebrate the victory of his first ever LaLiga title. While the Espanyol fans were booing the Barça players, you at home were happily smiling at the tv.

He would celebrate a lot on the drive home in the team bus but he was also excited to celebrate with you.

So as soon as the bus arrived and he was allowed to leave, he went over to his own car which you were standing in front of. He ran over to you and pulled you into a tight hug.

"There's my champion." You'd say and he just smiled, it didn't even feel real to him that he was able to celebrate his first league trophy with you.

But you two went home and you both drank some wine on the balcony while talking endlessly about the things he experienced in that short period of time.

He told you about the fans running onto the field, about Marcos Alonso almost getting into a fight with a fan, about Araujo provoking a fan and how they celebrated inside the locker room. Laporta's speech together with Xavi was also a highlight. He also told you about the bus ride home, when Gavi was unusually quiet while he ate his pizza, you watched Balde's live so you saw a bit of it, but of course it was different when Pedri told you.

Then the next game at Camp Nou, after the final whistle was blown Barça celebrated the Laliga title and the families were allowed to go onto the pitch to take a picture with the players.

You of course went to take a pic with Pedri and the trophy. His parents and brother were also there, so you asked Demebele to take a picture of the five of you. In the middle Pedri, on his left wrre you, his arms wrapped wround your waist while his brother was on your left. On the other side were his parents, happily smiling about their sons victory.

After you two arrived home that night Ledri hugged you in the bedroom while he whispered. "I'm afraid that it'll be over." He mumbled and you cupped his face while looking up at him.

"It will be, but that's okay, because not everything can be perfect forever." you told him and he smiled a bit while pressing a long kiss on your lips.

"You're right"

[chlerc]

player ten ; charles leclerc

— summary; in which Charles find himself in at the San Siro stadium but his eyes are on you. Donning a number 10 jersey, which left Charles to wonder if you’re that player’s girlfriend. It’s still worth a shot, right?

pairing — charles leclerc x f. reader ( third person story )

word count — 925.

content — strangers to lovers, okay more like Charles one sided thing he has for you, or so he thought. You might be that footballer’s girlfriend but hey was he ever going to pass up on a girl like you?

NAVIGATION + author’s note: to thank the Monaco charity football match for captain charles ( future ballon d’or winner who fell head first! ) and that one picture he’s holding the barça jersey just got this idea, more like drabble, going. we deal with this until i finish the mason mount fic hehe 😓

The football pitch was millions of perfect grass strands as eager for the start of play as the fans who brought the stadium to light. Two armies of eleven walked onto the green to pitch war in the way civilised societies have come to.

The cheers warm the air as much as any sun ever could and rise around the San Siro stadium as bubbles in invisible champagne. Charles is right there by the VIP section of the stadium, in his customised AC Milan jersey he had just received from the team.

San Siro stadium was where he found himself with Joris, on a day without a packed schedule and stimulator drives. Football has always been his thing and he’s got a special knack for it, or he thinks so in that way.

His eyes are trained on following each Milan player as they played against Sampdoria yet the person on his left, an empty seat between them, had been pissing him off, which he embraced silently. Holy shit was she loud with all those jarring noises she had been making.

Charles cranes his neck a little, sneaking a glimpse at the lady who has been all but silent throughout the match. But to be fair, who would be quiet at a football match? Realising he had made the mistake of sneaking a glance, because hell was she so breathtakingly gorgeous. She’s so fucking beautiful it almost hurts to look at her.

Her face to his eyes was all the beauty a woman can possess, not for her features, yet for the light in her eyes and the gentle warmth of her soul. She has the rosiest cheeks and a pointy nose anyone could ever ask for. There was a warmth her brown hair brought to her features, a simple frame for that smile and eyes. The hue altered as the strands curled and moved, as free as autumn leaves playing in the dayshine with the evening wind picking up its pace.

One last glance, Charles had promised himself and swore to stick to that and so he did sneak another glance. Rookie mistake, she was donning the AC Milan jersey just like every other home supporter there, but shit she had a number 10 and the name Brahim printed on the back.

He recognises the number and name was actually a player on the pitch and not a customised jersey like his. VIP seats, a player’s jersey and cheering for him. Charles pieces his observations together, coming to a conclusion that she might actually be Brahim’s girlfriend.

Okay. It wasn’t like he was planning on hitting her up anyways, she was too noisy to be his type. But then again was he lying to himself, because hell who would actually pass up on a gorgeous woman who happened to love the same sport as him? On another note, she could just be a devoted fan, a girl can have her fantasies wearing the jerseys of the players they love.

It was the 63th minute where Brahim sent the ball to the back of the net, chants erupting throughout the stadium and a shout piercing through the left side of his ear. Fuck maybe she was his girlfriend afterall, there was no way was he making a move on her now.

He watches her every move as she looks for her phone in the beige bag sitting on her lap. With her phone in her hand, the screen lights up and he almost felt sanguine in this situation. Maybe he still had a chance after all, right? It definitely means something if he’s the person on her wallpaper, right?

Which is exactly why he slides over to the empty seat, settling down next to her. “Good game eh?” Charles finds himself striking a conversation with her, hoping she’d notice him. “Huh? Yeah yeah, really good game.” Her cheeks were the blush of roses, that peak of champagne pink. The colour infused cheeks dimpled with the blossoming smile

She wished she didn't blush so fast, that she had some ability to keep her emotions to herself. In an instant, her cheeks were rosy and Charles saw her feelings as if she wrote them in little notes and handed them out to him. “So…Brahim, your boyfriend? He’s really good with Milan, he’s adapted to the team well.”

“No no, not a boyfriend but yeah he’s really good.” He licked at his lips subconsciously, thanking every god for his fate of meeting the gorgeous and single lady right next to him. “Not a boyfriend eh? You’re in his jersey and all that.” She only lets out a giggle at his comment, Charles thought it was strange that she’s acting like she didn’t know him. “Loyal supporter is what I’d call it, been by him since Madrid.”

“My teammate’s a Madridista, you’d love him.” The ends of her lips lifted up into a smile so sweet, her eyes creasing into crescents. “I’d prefer the one who supports AS Monaco.” She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, mumbling meekly. “What’s that?” Charles questioned, not managing to catch what she had said but it wasn’t meant for him to hear anyways.

“Nothing important.” He nods curtly at her reply, sliding a piece of folded and crumbled paper he had tucked in his pockets earlier. She eyes him warily, taking the piece of paper in her grasp.

“I might have a knack for football but I’m better as a driver and we can take a picture to replace that lockscreen. Mia cara, call me yeah?”

[emwheezie]

Who are you choosing if my characters were in a dating sim?

Lennon:

Gremlin mode

Daddy issues

Bad hair

Musical/Creative genius. Perfect pitch

Ambitious

Doesn't shower

Ate a lasagna once

Doesn't know how to use his words

Fights drywall

Movie watcher

Chicken addiction

Street smart

Closeted Weezer fan

Dunkin Donuts

Shoes on the bed

Green Day

Might be silly

Goes up the stairs on all fours

Stressed/depressed/poorly dressed

PBC singer and lead guitar

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

Tony:

Purple

Crazy driver

:3

Mall pretzels

Catholic school survivor

Emotionally smart/book smart

Stressed/depressed/dressed to impress

Afraid of getting old/ugly

Wants to fight the MBTA

Might be delusional

throws up from anxiety

Redbull and Taco Bell

Loves dogs

Green Day

Poetic

Saw Moses (biblical) in the woods while high with Theo

Bisexual

Lactose intolerant

Finds meaning in everything

Always in a relationship

PBC bassist and "manager"

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

Enzo:

Evil

Might have killed a man

Man Bun

Posts on DeviantART

Loves dragons

whispers and shakes

Future tattoo artist

Movie connoisseur

Might be a furry...?

LOVES the Saw movie franchise

Protective and loyal

Street smart

Stays up all night in the dark

In an online relationship

Does what he wants

Doesn't waste time

Sparkling water enjoyer

Tea drinker

Never listened to a music in his life

Guitarist in a band (PBC)

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

Theo:

From New Hampshire

Asexual

Golden retriever personality 

Grew up with 8 siblings

Joined the military after High School

Eats Oatmeal?

Doesn't wear a seatbelt

Outdoorsy/hiking adventures

Works at a club/bar with his wife, Gia

Is a cinnamon roll

Emotionally smart

Saw Moses (biblical) in the woods while high with Tony

Calls music his "funky jams"

Forgets his shoes

Mtn Dew

Forgetful

Kidney Stones

His appendix exploded once

PBC drummer

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

Park:

Loves alcohol

Hates the government

Hates the IRS

Has never paid taxes

No sense of personal space/very touchy

LOUD

Climbs things

Grilled cheese enthusiast  

Dunkin Donuts manager

Aliens are 4 realz

loves video games

Wicked smart

Goes to MIT for like space engineering or something idk

Makes monkey noises

"I have to be both the sexiest and most mentally challenged person in the room at all times"

Obsessed with skin walkers

Conspiracy theories

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

Oli:

Photography/cinematography 

Graphic design

Urban Explorer

Abandoned things

Summer time vibes

Lives in sleeveless shirts

Black coffee drinker

health freak/gym rat

Smokes cigarettes (hey we all have our vices)

Secretly gay

Chronic complainer

Works at zumies

Does graffiti 

Runs from his problems

Travels for work

Drives a modded Subaru

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

Alyssa:

Preforms unethical experiments in the sims 3

Loves cows

So many many plushies there's no room for her in the bed

weezer fan

Talks a lot

Lots of keychains/charms

Maximalism!

Assertive

Good listener

Workaholic 

HAS to be the BEST at anything she does

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

Rosie

Grew up with strict parents

Working too many hours at Dunkin Donuts

Former ballet/dancer

Likes to bake and really good at it!

Compulsive liar

"I have a twin sister who goes to another school"

Gets jealous easily

Body image problems/eating disorders :(

Emotionally Immature 

Spider eyelashes

A nose ring is "rebelling from my parents"

Currently in college

Afraid of change

Emotional support eldest daughter

Loves to sing

[barcalover86]

Hiiii today is my Birthday!!!!

I was wondering if u can write something special for me please<3 if you can’t it’s really not a big deal but thanks a million if you do!

Ready to win? - Pablo Gavi

First of all, happy birthday, sweetheart!!!♥️

I wish you the best day and go make some memories! This one is for you!

------

You were packing your things quickly while talking to Pedri on the phone.

"Thank you so much for the help, you really saved me!"

"No problem, hermanita. You know I'll always be there for you."

You met Pedri while dating Gavi, but he was so nice to you since the first time he saw you. Being good friends, you begged him to help you make a surprise to Pablo, telling him that tonight, you wouldn't be able to go to his game.

You didn't remember what excuse you used, not being able to memorize everything now in such a hurry, but you knew you convinced him.

Pablo was sad that he won't see you today, being almost 3 weeks since he last saw you face to face. You talked on the phone, but obviously it wasn't enough for both of you.

You went to see your family, missing them terribly, and with Gavi's busy schedule, you couldn't find a day for you to meet.

The game had to begin in 4 hours, and the players were already at camp nou, so yours and Pedri's plan didn't go too well.

First, you had to meet him in the changing room to surprise him there, but now, being late, you had to figure out another idea.

"You'll still manage to surprise him, y/n. Don't worry." smiled Pedri on the phone before you hung up, hurrying to your car to drive yourself to the stadium.

The traffic was insane and when you arrived there, you still had to wait for almost 1 hour to get into the vip section. You could have gone through the crowd because there were a lot of people that know you as Pablo Gavi's girlfriend, but you knew it wouldn't be fair, so you remained at your place.

You texted Pedri, telling him that you had arrived. The game had to begin in 2 hours, and the footballers were already warming up in the waiting rooms.

You found your seat and began to think about how you could surprise Gavi. You really wanted this to be a special moment, you missing each other badly, but it felt like no idea was coming into your mind.

You checked your phone for Pedri's reply, but you saw your boyfriend's text.

Hola, how are u cariño? Will you be able to watch the game? If not, go sleep, your healthy is more important anyway. Wish me good luck. Te amo !

Oh, so you told him you were sick.

Thank you for your concern, Pablo. I'll watch you play tonight. Go get the ball! Yo tambien te amo!!🙌

You were so thankful for him. Gavi was the best boyfriend, you just couldn't ask for more.

While you were looking at your phone, an idea came into your mind. It was the perfect one to surprise Pablo!

You rushed to Barca' stuff and begged them to help you with it. They were happy to hear your idea and agreed to surprise Gavi.

When you saw the footballers coming to the pitch to warm up, you hid so that they couldn't see you. You only waved to Pedri who smiled, happy to see you there.

Now, 5 minutes were left until the game had to begin, and you slowly went in the middle of the pitch. First, Gavi didn't see you, and you were dying to see his reaction.

He knew it was time that someone had to pass him the ball so that the game should begin and you were the special fan from tonight. When he first saw your body, your back was on his front, him being able to see his jearsy on you.

He was surprised that someone could look so much like you from the back, but when you turned around, ready to pass him the ball, he was socked.

"First pass will be made by y/n y/l/n"

So, yes, Pablo wasn't dreaming!

He smiled widely when you gave him the ball, before hugging you.

"I can't believe you just did that! Yo te amo muchisimo, señorita!"

"Ready to win?"

"More than ready, amor!"

You quickly kissed his lips, while all the cameras were on you, before running to your seat to watch the game.

Pedri gave you a small wave and you could read from his lips that he thanked you for showing up.

The game was a whole victory and you couldn't be more proud of your team.

Everyone came to you and hugged you while telling you how much they missed you. When Pablo came to you, he kissed your lips with so much love, that you felt you were the luckiest girl.. not that you wouldn't be.

"Thank you.. thank you so much!"

"You know I'll do anything for you, mi amor!"

He smiled and kissed you once again, before taking your hand and walking around the stadium, talking about nothing and everything at the same time.

You really love this boy and every sacrifice that you did, do, and will do.. you know he deserves them.

How was this?? Tell me your opinion if you'd like!

Again, happy birthday to you, anon!!!!

[gravehags]

ghouls/ghoulettes with ghoul bicycle reader in a sundress (nsfw)

because you know they'd be feral about it

dewdrop - big fan of the drive-by ass smack but when he sees reader bent over with the hem of her dress riding up her thighs he goes fucking turbo. i'm talking biting the lip, deep breath, slap her ass so hard he sends her falling forward and cussing, not knowing what hit her. hurricane dewdrop, if you will. when her head whips around as she's on her knees on the floor, looking for the culprit, he stands above her sliding a hand in her hair and showing her exactly who did it and what she does to him. she might use a little more teeth when she slides her lips over him than she normally would as revenge but that's part of the fun, right?

mountain - tries so very hard to be respectful but when he sees how plump and bitable her exposed legs look it makes him a little wild. definitely corners her when they're alone and cages her in (he knows she goes crazy for it) his hand trailing along the hemline and up to the juncture of her thighs. he growls as reader blinks up at him with those wide not-so-innocent eyes, hauling her up and wrapping her legs around his waist. practically fucks her through the wall with the force of his thrusts, so desperate is he to watch her fall apart speared on his cock while looking so pretty.

swiss - will creep up behind her and full on grope her with both hands so ferociously she falls backwards into his grasp. he just stands there with palmfuls of reader, kneading her ass with a shit-eating grin as she looks up at him bewildered. he's got that look - the one reader knows all too well - and she grins back, pushing off him and taking him by the hand to his room. the dress comes off...eventually...but not before he stretches out on the bed and watches reader bounce on his cock, looking like the cat that ate the canary.

cumulus - loves to see reader feeling confident so when she shows up in the kitchen one morning with a short little floral sundress, cumulus is absolutely beaming. doesn't mean she's not horny about it though and she lets reader know by pushing her firmly against the counter, slotting a thigh between her legs so she can watch the dress ride up and expose more of her. cumulus mouths at her bare collarbone, telling her about all the ways she intends on having her that day. reader loses count of how many way cumulus makes her cum in different places throughout the den, content to be fucked dumb by the air ghoulette.

cirrus - does a double take when she sees reader in the hallway looking so pretty in a cute little dress and when she passes her grabs her by the arm to pull her back to cirrus' front. cirrus gets filthy with it, grinding against her ass, holding her close by a splayed palm on her lower belly that slowly slides further south. hits her with a few choice pet names and promises as she digs the heel of her palm into the heat of her, delighting as reader molds her body to her touch. when reader's little whines drive her to the edge of her patience, she bends down and hauls her over her shoulder to her room. she intends on showing reader exactly what pretty girls deserve.

sunshine - two words: goblin mode. catches reader outside one day wandering the orchards and pounces on her, pinning her to a tree trunk. giggles uncontrollably as she peppers reader's face with kisses and falls to her knees in front of her, pushing the dress up and mouthing at her clothed cunt. she's proud of being able to get her off with the underwear still separating them, and drags her down to the grass to see how many more she can get. if any siblings on the grounds hear her high-pitched moans, they know better than to seek out the source and face sunshine's wrath.

aurora - will eye her all day, quietly admiring the view and waiting for the perfect opportunity. when she catches reader alone in a chapel at the end of the day, golden hour filtering in through the stained glass, she pushes her against the wall and grins at her all sharp and predatory. aurora wastes no time sliding her fingers in the skimpy underwear reader wears, kissing her soundly as she toys with her clit. when reader cums (for the first time that evening) her moans and whimpers are pushed into aurora's mouth, their tongues sliding against one another.

aether - big sexy seeing reader in a pretty little dress is enough to send him into his rut if he isn't already in it. stalks her around the abbey all day just to catch a glimpse of her and the way the dress moves with the sway of her hips. when he finally can't take anymore torture he comes up behind her, pressing his hard cock into the curve of her ass. she throws a little grin behind her and asks if he intends to do anything with it and oh does he. he likes her bent over and tells her not to strip - he wants to corrupt this sweet little thing just as she is. reader is more than happy to play along.

rain - he wants to draw her, compose songs in her honor, worship at her altar when she walks into the living room the first warm day of the year wearing a sweet little dress. but he'll settle for pulling her down into his lap to straddle him as she giggles and pretends to fight him off. her hips start making tight little circles over him and his mind goes fuzzy, jaw hanging open as she takes control and sucks at his neck. dew walking in on her riding his cock only makes him more wild and when the fire ghoul saunters over to grip her by the hair and tilt her head back for a messy kiss? rain comes undone

phantom - sweet bug is floored the first time he sees her in a sundress. she looks so pretty and perfect and soft and...he's immediately hard. he knows he can't have her yet so instead he edges himself all day, palming his cock through his pants whenever he gets a private moment, whimpering her name. he's distraught when he's gone too long without seeing her and retreats to his room to find relief. but - what do you know. she's waiting for him on the bed in that pretty little dress, ankles crossed and smiling at him. he doesn't last long, not with her looking like that, but she doesn't mind. he's got plenty of opportunities to make it up to her.

[valyrfia]

would you be willing to rec your favourite fics with the low kudo stats you just talked about? would love to be the one to add one more kudo to the tally!

yeah for sure!

even a Mouse by @ficster-28 - 19.7k, T, no pairings

Charles was fifteen when his dæmon settled. It was a perfectly average age to settle, and it happened so quietly and naturally that neither he nor Moira even noticed at first. They had other things to think about: today, they were aiming to beat out Ben Barnicoat and Max Verstappen at Val d’Argenton. It wasn’t until they were getting into the kart that they realised. Moira normally transformed into an insect to race, something small enough that she could crawl inside Charles’s race suit and be protected as he drove. Today, she didn’t even try to change; they both just looked at each other, and knew. “A mouse,” he said.

I don't even know where to start with this fic. It is by far my favourite F1 fic and is probably actually one of my favourite pieces of literature I have consumed. The whole fic is basically an exploration of sacrifice in motorsport in the form of a Dæmon AU. I read this early on when I was only reading Max/Charles stuff (you may recognise this author from their brilliant Lestappen fic in translation which ALSO haunts me, especially as a francophone) so I was a bit hesitant at first and it was only my love for His Dark Materials (dæmon AUs source material) that made me click on it. I have never been more glad. Please just take a leap of faith and read this.

melepathic. or something. by Anonymous - 8.5k, M, Lando/Oscar

It starts in Miami. It probably shouldn’t — Miami is far from amazing. Oscar’s brake issues and battery harvesting are laid out in the debrief like a wet sock. Lando doesn’t have much to add. What would he even say? The car was too slow. No shit. Anyway, it probably would’ve made more sense in Baku. Baku wasn’t bad. But it happened in Miami. Maybe because it wasn’t good, regression to a mean and all that as Jon likes to say. They filmed their final goodbyes for UNBOXED, had hot cocoa (Oscar) and a strawberry protein shake (Lando) in the canteen to put something of a bandage on the weekend. Oscar licked foam cream off from around his mouth. Lando found himself following the movement. Thing is, NDAs suck. They’re annoying, they’re nitpicky. If he’s in the mood and he has to go out, find someone, then whip out a biro and a legal threat, it kind of sucks. And not the good kind of sucking.

I'm pretty sure I've been insane about this fic on this blog before, but it's just such pitch-perfect characterisation of both Oscar and Lando that bleeds through perfectly into the prose as well, not just the dialogue. As a result, the end product is SO MUCH FUN even if the fic itself is kind of half crisis half FWB. It's a masterclass in characterisation and writing style, and I really wish there was more by this author to consume. It is THE best landoscar fic out there, and I think will be really difficult to top.

all that blood was never once beautiful by actparci (@sunshineyoujustwait) - 1.4k, T, Charles/Max

There are moments when Max gets it. He remembers Charles illuminated against the Monza sunshine, tall and proud, looking out over a sea of red. A king surveying his kingdom. a.k.a Max loves Charles, Charles loves Ferrari, Max struggles with the latter

A perfectly crafted character study of BOTH Charles and Max's characters that changed my brain chemistry in less than 2k words is all I have to say about this one. It's short, if you're Lestappen inclined there is no excuse to not have read this, the prose is GORGEOUS and the imagery is something else, and I'm always a fan of the Inherent Catholicism of Driving for Ferrari.

[riaraa]

Analyzing the Kiara and Rafe Moments in "Outer Banks: Dead Break" by Jay Coles

Over the weekend, I read the book Outer Banks: Dead Break by Jay Coles. I bought this book because I was happy to see that we would be getting a story from Kiara’s POV and I found early excerpts for the book that name-dropped Rafe as one of the competitors in the surf competition that Kiara signs up for. As a riara shipper, I had to read it to see if there would be any interactions between them (and I was not disappointed)! 

Fellow riara fans, enjoy!

This post is GIANT, so everything is below the line!

Summary of the Book from the Dustjacket:

The waves are off the hook, and Pope and the other Pogues are betting big on Kiara blowing the Kook competition out of the water. What could possibly go wrong? It's summer in the OBX, and a big surfing competition is bringing in pro surfers from around the world to Kildare Island, along with plenty of Kooks and tourists. Meanwhile, a storm has delivered massive waves, making for perfect—yet challenging-surfing conditions. But Kiara, who has been training, is up for the challenge. As for Pope, he just started his summer internship at the city morgue—his dream job! When Kiara strikes up a flirtation with one of the pro surfers, Pope, John B, and JJ can't help but get a little jealous at the attention she receives. Meanwhile, the visiting surfers are treating Pope's dad, Heyward, like some kind of hero, but he won't explain why. When one of the professional surfers washes up dead on the beach, everyone assumes he got crushed by a wave. But Pope, Kiara, and the rest of the Pogues aren't so sure…

Quoted Moments and My Thoughts:

“The sound of heavy metal rips through the air. Rafe Cameron drives onto the sand in his expensive Jeep, multiple surfboards hanging out the back. I shake my head as he parks, pulls his t-shirt off, and heads toward the water, board at his side.” (Page 32)

Rafe's first mention is during Kiara's POV when she is at the beach with a professional surfer named Gabriel who came to OBX for the surfing competition. Is it now canon that Rafe is a heavy metal fan? Because I was NOT expecting that, but I totally love it. I like that the author wrote that he drives a Jeep, because that's what I have him drive in my riara fics (I can't remember if it's canon in the show or not). Kiara doesn't say much about Rafe in her thoughts during this moment but she saw him shirtless (which he only is once in the show I think), so a win is a win in my book.

“I’d heard that Rafe was planning to enter the competition, too. Ward has probably bought Rafe lessons with the best surf instructors money could buy from the time he could walk. He’s a decent surfer, but next to Cole [a professional surfer who is in OBX for the surf competition] and Darren [a professional surfer who is in OBX for the surf competition], he looks like a littel kid beside giants. I hope that’s not how I’ll look next to the pros in a few days. Unlike Rafe, I am entirely self-taught.” (Page 32)

I find this moment interesting because despite both being rich and living on Figure 8, Rafe and Kiara live very different lives. A big plot point in this book is how her parents don't support her dreams of becoming a professional surfer and I find it interesting that Ward is supporting Rafe's because that doesn't seem like something he would do in the show. It makes me think Rafe wasn't as bad at this point with his mental illness and drug abuse. I also like that the author used Rafe as a talking point for Kiara to compare herself to, no matter how small (we are hardly scratching the surface here), because I think there is a lot to compare between them as characters.

“I see Ward and Rafe Cameron saunter in [to The Wreck, where Kiara is waitressing] and join Darren and Alan’s [Darren’s manager] table. By the time I bring Alan and Darren their (raw) oysters, Ward is deep into his pitch for Alan to take on Rafe as a client. I try to listen in. I gotta admit, I’m jealous [...] it must be nice to have a parent who supports your dreams.” (Page 43)

This paragraph expands on my above thoughts. I find it super interesting that both Rafe and Kiara have dreams of becoming professional surfers. The rest of the Pogues aren't the same way. JJ even states, "This is why I don't think surfing should be competitive. It's all about the experience, not the medals." (Page 8). Which makes Kiara and Rafe the two competitors of characters we know that have the same dreams with surfing, and Kiara even states that, knowingly. It's also fascinating to me that Kiara would admit to being jealous of Rafe and his relationship with Ward, because once the canon of the show begins, we definitely know that would all go down the drain.

“Not only do I feel like a failure, but I also embarrassed myself in front of everyone: Gabriel, my friends, Sarah, Rafe and people from school. The entire island just saw me royally screw up. They all saw that my parents are right, surfing is a waste of my time. I’m no better than Rafe, another Kook wannabe who’s never going to travel the world surfing professionally.” (Page 86)

This moment takes place after Kiara falls off her surfboard during the competition. I just like that she name dropped Rafe, because you would usually think he is irrelevant to her, but right now, it matters to her that he saw her wipe out. AND THEN, she compares herself to him. Although, this comparison confuses me. She calls Rafe a Kook wannabe, when he is the Kookiest-of-all-Kooks. Does she think on some level he is pretending with his life status, like she is? And then she groups herself in with him, never going anywhere with their shared dream of becoming professional surfers.

And later on, in Pope's POV, JJ texts him saying, "Rafe fell almost as soon as he stood on his board. He drove off so fast he left his fancy surfboard behind." (Page 92). This makes me wonder why the author had Kiara and Rafe parallel each other even further by having them both fall during the competition and then storming off in anger over their failure.

“Rafe is here for questioning. He’s under eighteen, which means the police aren't allowed to ask him anything without a parent present.” (Page 121)

This moment is from Pope's POV, but I thought it was interesting enough to note. He says Rafe is under eighteen years old, but this since this is the summer after Kiara's Kook Year where she was a freshman at the Kook Academy, that means Rafe is either a school year younger in this story compared to show canon, or his birthday is really late in the year for his age. So, I am assuming he is seventeen in the current timeline of this story, while the Pogues are fifteen. Although John B is old enough to drive the Twinkie, so it must be passed July for him to be sixteen. Overall, this make's it a canon timeline where Rafe and Kiara's age difference is two years, instead of three.

“Kie’s the sort of person who gives everyone the benefit of the doubt, who believes that deep down, no one is beyond redemption.” (Page 128)

This is another moment from Pope's POV that I thought was really sweet. I think it is a great note about Kiara as a character. Pope later then notes that Kiara is looking at Sarah like she did something horrible (the Pogues don't know what happened between them, like in the show) and despite what Sarah did, Kiara forgives her. It makes me wonder how her and Rafe's relationship would pan out if they talked more.

On Page 154, when the Pogues (plus Gabriel, the surfer who Kiara has a crush on) are trying to figure out what happened to Cole (a professional surfer who was found murdered and also Gabriel's best friend), Kiara simultaneously defends and condemns Rafe when they look into going to him for answers since he was at the beach where Cole got murdered the morning before it happened. Rafe had gone to the police with Ward to tell them everything he knew and Pope overheard, but the Pogues think he is hiding something.

Defending: “Unless [Rafe] was lying," I interject. "Think about it: Ward was trying to get Darren’s manager to represent Rafe. Ward would never let Rafe say anything that might turn Alan against him—and implicating Alan’s star client [Darren] in a murder is hardly a way to stay on Alan’s good side.” Condemning: “In fact, maybe that’s why Rafe told the police he’d been surfing at the Evergreen Bayou to begin with—so that he could specifically say that he hadn’t seen Darren there. Maybe Rafe thought that protecting Alan’s star client would get Alan to rep him, despite his mediocre surfing skills.”

The way Kiara phrases how Ward and Rafe went to the police is important and shows she is much more observant than she thinks. She says that Ward would never let Rafe say anything. She has already noted the control Ward has over Rafe. She defends Rafe in this moment saying he might have not been able to say anything that he knows because Ward is more worried about his shot with Alan as a manager.

She then gives Rafe the power in the scenario by saying he might have thought that protecting Darren would give him a shot at having Alan as a manager. I find it interesting that she thought of Rafe in both ways.

Pages 174-185 are a GOLD MINE for riara shippers. During this sequence, Kiara infiltrates a Kook party to find Rafe and lure him outside so that the Pogues (and Gabriel) can interrogate him about the murder of Cole. I have noted my favorite passages:

“Okay, then how’re we going to get Rafe?” “We’re not going to get him,” I correct. “I am.” (Page 174)

The Pogues had pulled up to a party where they know all the Kooks are, but haven't figured out how to get Rafe. When JJ asks how they are going to do it, Kiara volunteers herself. When I tell you I almost passed out when reading this moment because I was so excited! So dramatic!

“The fact that this party is exactly the same as the one I went to months ago means I know exactly where to find Rafe. Rafe doesn’t go for plastic cups and cheap beer. He’ll be upstairs, in Ryan’s dad’s study. Last fall, Ryan called it the ‘inner sanctum’ and invited Sarah and me there.” (Page 176)

Once again, Kiara keeps noting things about Rafe that you would think she wouldn't care to remember. To me, this shows how observant of him she was during her time at the Kook Academy. And I want to know what happened when Kiara and Sarah would party alongside him!

“But at least tonight, I'm turning the power dynamic around, using the fact that [the Kook guys at the party] see me as an object, as pleasing to the eye as wall sconces and chandeliers against them. I’m using it to get what I want. And what I want is for Rafe to leave with me. Just the thought—I want Rafe to leave with me—is enough to make me gag…” (Page 179)

And what I want is for Rafe to leave with me. I AM SCREAMING, WHAT IN THE FANFIC. I love how disgusted over it Kiara is. She is a girl on a mission.

“I see Rafe and walk over to him. I can already smell the alcohol on him, like a strong odor, which tells me he’s been drinking for a while. It’s not unusual for Rafe; I’ve known him long enough to know that this is how he forgets he is Ward’s son.” (Page 179)

This paragraph made my jaw DROP. First off, it's sad to see how drunk Rafe is and then KIARA SAYS WHY HE DRINKS LIKE HE DOES. It's because of Ward and he wants to forget. She knows this information about him and I want to know how and why! It shows even further how observant she is of him. She has noted things that others fail to see. And this is why I think their relationship dynamic is important and interesting.

“Hi, Rafe,’ I say. “Hi . . . Kie,’ Rafe says (well, slurs).” (Page 179)

HE CALLS HER KIE! But, what was that pause? Did Rafe need a moment to remember who she was? Or was it surprise at seeing her? I NEED TO KNOW. I am interpreting it as surprise at seeing her and this part also emphasizes even more how drunk Rafe is; if he is slurring a simple "hi" and name.

"I sit on the shiny leather couch beside Rafe and ask if I can have a sip of his drink. He hands me a crystal tumbler etched with diamond shapes. I take a sip of the brown liquid, recognizing the flavor of good Kentucky bourbon, but I act like I’ve never had something so strong before. Rafe laughs as I pretend to have trouble swallowing. "We can get you something more your speed, little girl," he promises.” (Pages 179-180)

Rafe is WHIPPED. Immediately handing over his drink when she asks? Also, how cute, they have the same taste in alcohol lol.

AND THEN HE CALLS HER LITTLE GIRL? LIKE SIR WHAT? I seriously need to know what was going through the authors mind when he chose that pet name. In this story, Rafe is at most 2 years older than Kiara so it's not like he is way older than her or something.

“Then he literally snaps at a girl sitting on the other side of the coffee table to pass me her drink.” (Page 180)

Like, damn Rafe show your favoritism some more, please? LOL. So demanding when Kiara is in need (and this is demonstrated in show canon, too, with the entire trapped in Singh's mansion plot-line).

“I sip my sticky drink and lean into Rafe, sneaking a peek at his hand. He has two pair. ‘Fold,” I whisper. “Why?” I nod at Ryan across the table. “Ryan’s got something big.” “How can you tell?” “See the way he’s tapping his thigh?” Rafe nods. “He did it in algebra last semester when he cheated on his test. He knew he was going to get an A no matter what.” Rafe looks at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. I can feel his gaze taking in my tank top and short shorts.” (Page 180)

This is like the longest and most normal conversation Rafe and Kiara have and it literally melts my heart. They are just playing poker together and THEN we get the trope of character A looking at character B and seeing them for the first time after a pivotal moment in their relationship?? Thank you Jay Coles (author)! Also, Rafe is turned on by a smart woman, confirmed!

“Whatever the lady says,” he promises, placing his cards facedown on the table. When Ryan reveals a full house, Rafe gives me a high five.” (Page 181)

Can you see Rafe initiating a hive five with anyone? This is so heartwarming to me that he wanted to high five her out of genuine excitement. I would love to see Drew Starkey and Madison Bailey act of this entire scene, it would be so entertaining.

“Looks like I found my lucky charm,” he says. “Kiara Carrera, the half-Kook wonder.” I pretend being called a half Kook doesn’t offend me. That’s how Rafe and his friends thought of me for the year I went to school with them: not entirely a Pogue or a Kook.” (Page 181)

First off, it's so cute that he calls her his lucky charm. BUT THEN I like the deep dive into Kiara's character here. I'm surprised she is offended by something Rafe said, but it goes to show how the half-life she is living really effects her. She is adamant she is a Pogue, yet still feels in-between. And it's interesting that she notes that Rafe had previous thoughts about her. Did he explicitly tell her this, or was this something she concluded based on his actions? I wish she expanded more on her thoughts to give concrete evidence. Because that means that she and Rafe must have communicated at least a little bit during her Kook Year and I want to know it all!

“I advise Rafe for a couple more hands. But on the fourth hand, when he has three of a kind, I tell Rafe, “Go all in.” He grins at me. “Whatever my lucky charm says.” I have to keep myself from shuddering when he refers to me as his anything. Rafe pushes all his chips into the center of the table. Ryan calls. Rafe doesn't notice that Ryan's tapping his thigh again.” (Page 181)

Rafe is so oblivious to Kiara's actually feelings and I think it's so funny. He is just having a good time. Also, I love that it's canon in the show and this book that he grins at Kiara. I also think it's interesting how Kiara makes note that Rafe isn't noticing the clues she pointed out earlier. Is it because he is drunk?

"Crap!" Rafe shouts, throwing his cards down. He turns to me angrily. "Why'd you tell me to go all in?" I swallow the urge to point out that he has no right to be angry at me. I was just giving him advice; I'm not actually a magic lucky charm. But instead I say, "Look on the bright side." "What bright side?" Rafe pouts. “Now we can get out of here.” Rafe’s scowl twists into a smile as he catches my meaning. He grabs my hand and pulls me up to stand, like I’m a prize instead of an actual person.” (Pages 181-182)

I honestly wish Kiara could have called him out, because I would love to know his reaction, but I understand she had to keep playing along to accomplish her goal. BUT! We have a full confirmation that Rafe has the hots for Kiara!!!

“No way,” I shake my head. “I’m not hooking up where anyone could walk in. Your sister’s around. You know what she’ll say if she sees us together?” I make a face like I’m horrified. “I don’t care what she says.” (Page 182)

I think it's an interesting note that Rafe doesn't care about Sarah's thoughts on him and Kiara.

“I lead Rafe down the stairs and out the front door, rolling my eyes as soon as my back is turned. Boys like him are so easy.” (Page 182)

In this entire book, I do not remember a time where Rafe's love life is brought up. The Pogues joke about Topper and how he messed around with every Kook girl before getting with Sarah, but Rafe is a mystery. And, there is no mention of any girls sitting near him when Kiara found him in the study. It makes me wonder how much of this is that Rafe is easy, or that if he actually just really like Kiara.

“Where are we going, gorgeous?” Rafe asks. He holds my hand, his fingers playing on my inner wrist in a way I’m sure he thinks is sexy and suggestive. “You’ll see,” I promise and Rafe grins, his teeth white in the moonlight.” (Pages 182-183)

RIARA HOLDING HANDS!

JJ stuffs a rag in Rafe’s mouth to keep him from shouting. “Where’d you find that?” I ask. “The floor of the Twinkie,” JJ answers, which is almost enough to make me feel sorry for Rafe. I don’t think John B has ever actually cleaned the van.” (Page 183)

Kiara expresses no regret or guilt over kidnapping Rafe except that he might have a dirty ass rag in his mouth lol.

“And also? Don’t be so stupid as to leave a party with a girl who’s inexplicably interested in you after never having given you the time of day.” Rafe’s eyes go wide as it dawns on him that my flirting was all an act.” (Page 184)

Rafe has literally been gagged and thrown into the Twinkie. Is being held by Pope and JJ and JUST NOW REALIZED THAT THE FLIRTING WAS ALL FAKE? Oh yeah, he is down bad for Kiara.

"Rafe continues, his breathing slowing. “He said there wasn’t enough money in the world for him to represent me. I didn’t want my dad to know that I couldn’t close the deal with Alan.” (Page 191)

This is from Pope's POV as they interrogate Rafe, but I thought it was interesting to note that we can see bits and pieces of how much Rafe looks up to Ward and doesn't want to disappoint him, which will eventually lead to their turbulent relationship in the show.

They like to complain that I left them for Kook Academy last year (as if my parents gave me any choice in the matter), but the truth is, when they saw that I was actually making friends with some of my classmates, the guys pulled away from me, not the other way around.” (Page 194)

THIS MOMENT. This is probably the most important one in this entire book because it completely contradicts the show canon. In the show, we are meant to believe that Kiara left the Pogues in favor of her Kook friends and that is what caused a rift between them and explains why she is so loyal to them, to make up for leaving them. But, NO they left HER. This will change how I look at all of John B, JJ, and Pope's interactions with Kiara when I watch the show. She had wanted to kill herself over being at the Kook Academy, and now I wonder if she felt this way after the Pogues cut her off? My heart breaks for Kiara. Her best friends she grew up with turned their backs on her when she was forced into going to another school and happened to be friends with some of her classmates. Nobody wants to be alone at a new school. And it's probably why her relationship with Sarah hurt so much, too. Because Sarah had been her one true friend at the time, and Sarah left her, too. It changes how I view all the show dynamics, now. I wish we could dive more into Kiara's Kook year because it's such a pivotal part of her character but we only get glimpses (in the show and the book).

“[Pope] wasn’t holding Rafe tightly on purpose. He didn’t want to hurt him. Realizing that makes me love Pope more than I already do.” (Page 195)

This moment is definitely meant to focus on how Kiara admires how good of a person Pope is, but I think it can also be viewed that she didn't want Rafe to be hurt, either. And it's interesting because JJ loved hurting Rafe in this scene stating "I can do this all night and all day." as he laughs (Page 190), which probably explains why Rafe has it out for JJ n the show which leads to them fighting.

“Thanks to Rafe...” (Page 196)

This moment is so small and means nothing, but I just thought it was funny that Kiara would ever be "thanking" Rafe.

"And I'm not here to debate the finer points of toxic masculinity--" “That’s a first,” I interject, yawning. She’d somehow managed to fit in Rafe’s kidnapping.” (Page 201).

This is from Pope's POV after Kiara as snuck through his bedroom window. I just think it's funny that Kiara did use Rafe's kidnapping to give the Pogues (and by proxy, Rafe) a lesson on toxic masculinity lol.

“Tonight, I was barely home long enough to take a shower and change my clothes—my tank top and cutoffs need to be de-Rafed in the washing machine, ew…” (Pages 209-210).

AND this is the last mention of Rafe in the book and it's the funniest.

Conclusion

This book was a MAJOR win for Rafe and Kiara lovers because it confirms Rafe's liking for her further. It also gives us background on their relationship. Rafe still likes her after she lied and kidnapped him? This man is in love with her. This book further proves that the creators/writers/showrunners of OBX just love having Rafe and Kiara interact! They must see the potential if they keep teasing it! We can only hope for more moments in s4!

Let me know your thoughts! ❤️