#what did erling do to you

[premleaguehigh]

what's erling's favorite subject?

[taetaespeaches]

Chapter 2 is getting wilder each day like, if you told me we'd hear Jungkook sharing his tattoos's stories or we'd have Hobi in purple long hair last year, I'd chuckle in scepticism.

No seriously they were not joking about this chapter 2 shit. We are in a different era of bangtan and it's literally whiplash and shock every day. Imagine telling us years ago that this is how it would be. Like 2017 liv would have been like 'lmao you're fucking insane shut up'

[norrisainz33]

Cover girl || LS2

☆ summary: logan’s dating a rather famous singer who isn’t your typical wag

☆ pairing: logan sargeant x reader

☆ fc & warnings: billie eilish and suggestive with mild haters. you are responsible for the content you consume

☆ requested: yes!! i’m sorry this has taken so long. thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

ynuser has made a post

liked by logansargeant, yourbff, ynupdates, alex_albon, yoursibling, arianagrande and 987,213 others

ynuser: life’s been real good recently

view all 922 comments

user1: LOGAN SPOTTED

user2: mother is mothering so hard

user3: still gutted that she’s dating that man

user4: and i’m gutted he’s dating her 🤢

user3: nah i know you didn’t disrespect her like that

yourbff: give me my hat back!!!!

ynuser: no :) it’s mine now! hope this helps

ynupdates: new music when?!

logansargeant: my baby girl 🤤

ynuser: my baby boy

user4: logan blink twice if you need help

user3: YOU need help user4

user5: i was at that show!! you slayed so hard, i sobbed my eyes out

user6: no it was literally everything i love her. did you see someone who looked like logan dancing around in the vip section or was it just me

user5: NO I SAW HIM TOO BUT I WASNT SURE

user6: ugh i love them

logansargeant has posted to his story

view all story replies

ynuser: omg what a great story logan!

logansargeant: yea i wonder who posted it 🙄

ynuser: wrong answer

logansargeant: best content i’ve ever posted 😍😍😍 prettiest girl in the whole wide world 🤤🤤🤤🤤

ynuser: better 😘

user99: y/n/n not dressing like a teenage boy challenge failed

lilymhe: y/n!!!!!!!!! 🤍🤍🤍🤍

logansargeant: lilllyyyyyyy!!!!! - y/n/n

ynupdates: our girl 🫶🏻

alex_albon: when u coming to a race fr

logansargeant: the second im allowed to physically fight will**ms - y/n/n

alex_albon: whelp fair enough… guess i’m not seein ya

logansargeant: are you guys not coming to my show in milan anymore?! -y/n

alex_albon: we are im just being dramatic

user20: how logan bagged this baddie…. i will never know

logansargeant has made a post

liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri, yourbff, ynuser, ynupdates, user22, user2, user3 and 345,137 others

logansargeant: another race weekend in the books! p.s swipe for a surprise

view all 258 comments

user22: solid race weekend logie bear

user2: sargenation loves you so very much logan, i hope you know that

ynuser: he does bb 🫶🏻

user2: ogmgogmogkgogmgbakfg YAY

ynuser: vroom vroom 🤤

logansargeant: let’s ride 😏

user20: charli mentioned 🫨

user43: y/n i’m begging you to make an appearance in the paddock

user34: the paddock could never handle the brilliance of y/n plus i think she’d have words with j****

user43: and i’m absolutely begging her to tell the lot of them off 😭😫

oscarpiastri: solid surprise! thanks for sharing!

logansargeant: 🤔

ynuser: osc are you still mad at me for taking your girl out on a date?

oscarpiastri: 🙄 no

user18: 🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸🦅🇺🇸🦅

user52: so close to loints! we are proud of you logan

ynuser has made a post

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, yourbff, ynupdates, lilyzneimer, and 1,246,018 others

ynuser: surprise! i’m on the cover of vogue and my new album comes out in exactly 1 month from today 🤍

view all 999 comments

user22: i am looking 🫣 respectfully

user54: holy moly i knew she was a baddy but WOW

lilyzneimer: hottest vogue cover i’ve ever seen

ynuser: it’d be hotter if you were on it

user33: i am better than no man

user55: logan sergeant you lucky lucky lucky man

sabrinacarpenter: i think im in love with you

ynuser: 🤭 don’t make me blush

logansargeant: my girl is gorgeous god damn

ynuser: your girl 🤍

logansargeant: i cant wait for everyone to hear your new music baby

ynupdates: this is not a drill !!! i repeat this is not a drill!!! we are getting new music!

user54: and you been hidin allat????

erling.haaland: 😍

user66: now what in the world are you doing here erling

user55: the duality of this woman is insane

logansargeant has posted to their story

view all story replies

lilymhe: yes

lilyzneimer: yes

yourbff: yes

iamrebeccad: yes

user23: my god yes wtf

user85: yea 😔

alex_albon: MY EYES 😭

logansargeant: stop looking at my girlfriend!!!

alex_albon: mate you were the one who posted it

logansargeant: blah blah blah

user38: damn she is eating this up

ynupdates: i’m not sure if i want to be her or you more but yes i am jealous

ynuser has made a post

liked by logansargeant, yourbff, lilymhe, ynupdates, sabrinacarpenter, landonorris, and 1,234,019 others

ynuser: award szn with my best friend 🤍

view all 978 comments

user77: i feel like im interrupting something with that second pic

user66: that dress is absolutely gorgeous

lilymhe: very demure, very cutesy, very mindful

ynuser: you get me

logansargeant: black looks good on you but i look better 😏

ynuser: you know it 😍

alex_albon: get a room 😭

ynupdates: mother you amaze me. the body is tea

troyesivan: you are my idol

ynuser: stop it bb you’re mine

user55: serving BODY

julianalvarez: hermosa

user88: ok ms girl is in her serving body era i see

user99: i love you both so dearly

logansargeant has made a post

liked by ynuser, yourbff, iamrebeccad, alex_albon, kyle_kirkwood, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 445,123 others

logansargeant: summer break vibes

view all 342 comments

user87: mr americana

user66: forever jealous about how logan gets to see a different side of y/n than all of us

kyle_kirkwood: hot boy summer

logansargeant: you know it

alex_albon: why aren’t you texting me back

logansargeant: man i texted you back a couple days ago

user43: logan sargeant the man that you are

user68: loints incoming , mans is well rested and happy

ynuser: my favorite frat boy

logansargeant: 😉

user98: logan being happy is all that i ever wanted

ynupdates: thanks for the y/n content logan!! you will forever be my favorite vroom vroom guy

user46: RAHHHHHH. so excited for you to race again after summer break!!

ynuser has added to their story

view all story replies

user2: thank you for the sign of life y/n

user87: we miss him so much already

user27: where he goes we go

kyle_kirkwood: i hope you both join us in milwaukee this weekend 🫶🏻

alex_albon: i love you both no matter what

user37: i’m glad he’s got you

lilyzneimer: sending lots of love my dear

ynupdates: we love you logan. y/nnation is behind you every step of the way and is riding at dawn to take down will**ms

oscarpiastri: take care of him

user65: sargenation stands by logan no matter what

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! i’ve been struggling with writers block and have lost steam but will do my best to keep getting through the requests!! also i am gutted for logan , i miss him already

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform

[whorekneecentral]

Christmas On The Farm

Erling Haaland x Fem!Reader

Warnings: family christmases, stealing a tree, use of an axe, getting caught, soft boyfriend erling, a few cheesy moments, fingering, oral (f!receiving), overstimulation kinda, penetrative sex (p in v), nipple sucking, creampie, getting caught in a different way :)

Word Count: 2,357

Author's Note: omg it's the big mannnn, anytime I think of erling, I think of the farm so here we are lmao - also this is for pookie too sorry lmao all her bfs are in here

merry smutmas series

--

Erling takes you home to spend the holidays at the Haaland Family Farm and you two end up being the only ones there. 

"Are we going the right way?" You look over at your boyfriend, the man driving through the snow.

Erling nods, "I promise I know where I'm going." He laughs, the wind shield wipers make a squeaking sound, brushing the snow away as he slowly makes his way up the road. He turns into the driveway, the snow really coming down as he parks the car.

"It's freezing!" You shouted, running up the front porch stairs to unlock the door. Erling rolls his eyes at your theatrics, getting the bags out of the car before following you into the house.

The door shuts behind him, Erling shaking the snow off of his hoodie.

The two of you had ventured up to the Haaland family farm for the holidays. His siblings and parents were supposed to meet you guys there but due to the snowstorm, their flights were canceled. They would be arriving on Christmas Eve rather than the 18th like the two of you so that left it up to you to get things ready for the holidays.

It takes the two of you an hour to defrost and get comfortable, Erling rearranging things to his liking and you were relaxing on the couch, finally glad to have your boyfriend to yourself and not have to fight for his attention during the season - though you had to give it to him, he balanced everything in his life perfectly.

"We should decorate," he announces, coming into the living room from the kitchen. You look at the man over your book, "okay, with what?"

Looking around, the house lacked Christmas spirit big time.

Before you could gather yourself, Erling's got you over his shoulder as he walks down the hallway. "I can walk, you know!" You say through the giggles, holding onto him.

He smiles, putting you down at the end of the hallway. "Where's the fun in that?"

You roll your eyes at his childish ways, letting him walk into the room first. The room was used for storage, all sorts of things packed away in boxes and containers. You flipped the switch, turning on the light as he looked around. Eventually you two found the boxes marked for Christmas - ornaments, garland, lights etc.

One by one you moved the boxes into the living room and you started on your tasks.

Erling braved the cold; something that never really bothered him - having his Norwegian blood and all - and strung the lights around the porch railing and roof.

You were working on the inside; wrapping the staircase in garland, changing the curtains to the red and green ones, hanging mistletoe, replacing the regular throw pillows for the holidays ones and things like that. Eventually Erling came back in, helping you with the rest of the tasks, a few miscellaneous things to do here and there around the house.

There was one box left, the big label on the top read ornaments.

"We need a tree," you looked over at him, your hands on your hips.

Erling smiles, "you look.. very wife like."

"Thank you, I guess," you laughed, "but we still need a tree. Do you guys have one somewhere? Did we forget it in the room?"

"You mean like.. a fake one?"

"Yeah, duh." You looked at your boyfriend, the look of confusion on his face. "We don't have one in the house but there's one outside."

"Okay where is it? In the barn or?" You trailed off, waiting for an answer.

"No, we can just cut one down." He says, tossing your hoodie to you. The sweater lands on your face and you move it, looking at the man like he was insane. "I'm sorry, we can.. what?"

"Cut the tree down. There's a few at the back of the property. It stopped snowing so we can make it and be back before it gets really dark."

You put your sweater on, looking for your coat. "Have you ever cut a tree down before?"

Erling shakes his head, putting his own coat on. "No, but it can't be that hard."

He was out the door before you could protest. You really had no choice now, did you? You followed the man to the barn, he pulled an axe out of some trunk and handed you a giant torch light. It was the blind leading the blind, the two of you trudging through the snow to find a Christmas tree.

Sometimes you really wondered what went through this man's head. Then you wondered if you were right in the head, following him through the snow in the dark to find a tree.

You find a few, settling on the biggest one you could get without it being too heavy to carry or too big for the house, and Erling started swinging the axe.

You took a step back; you trusted him but not when it came to chopping a tree down in the dark.

It reminded you of when you were a child, your father yelling at you to hold the light one way while he's doing something and you held it a different way.

So there you were, dragging a Christmas tree through the snow with your boyfriend. "Move faster," Erling says and you grumble.

"We don't all have superhuman strength, you know."

"Just hurry up, babe," he told you.

You grumble again, trying to move a little faster but between the thick snow, the heavy tree and holding the light, it was a little hard to do.

"What's the rush anyways ?"

"Well," he starts and you know that tone; something was wrong. "It's actually the neighbour's tree."

"WHAT?" you stopped, turning to face him. "WE STOLE A TREE?!"

He laughs, nodding for you to keep walking. "It's not that serious babe, just keep walking."

Sometimes you really wondered how you ended up with him as a boyfriend, but the fact that he made you an accomplice to Christmas tree theft is outweighed by how good of a boyfriend he is.

Despite all your huffing, you help him get the tree into the house in the snow off of it. It took about an hour of sorting for you two to settle on a theme for the tree; the classic red, green and gold. The ornaments hung off the branches, Erling strung the lights around the tree before finally plugging it in.

The two of you admired your work, his arms wrapped around you as he hugged you from behind, his chin resting on your head.

Your own hand rests on his, "I cannot believe you made me steal a Christmas tree."

Erling laughs, "is it really stealing though ? The tree is out in the open sooo.." He trails off, making you laugh. You turned to face him, your hands holding his jaw, "you're ridiculous."

He leans into you, kissing you softly. "'Tis the season for giving, baby."

"Yeah, sure."

"Speaking of gifts," he starts, his hands moving to rest on your lower back, pulling you flush against him. "I have one for you."

You brows furrowed, "it's the 18th, babe. You're a whole week early." Your head tilts to the side as you look at your boyfriend. The man smiles, shaking his head as he leans down to kiss you.

It clicks, you realize what his gift is.

"Oh," you giggled, the two of you shifting to the floor. "I like this kinda gift," you whisper, his lips moving to your neck.

"I knew you would," he mumbles into your skin, his cold hand slipping under your shirt. "Erling!" You shrieked, wiggling away from him.

The man smiles, "sorry."

He sits against the couch, watching as you undress in front of him. The leggings sliding down your smooth legs, pooling by your ankles before you step out of them, you pull off the sweater and that leaves you in the same blue set Erling loves so much.

You reach behind to unhook your bra but he stops you, “leave it on.” 

He pulls you by your waist back to him, his hand slipping down to rest on your ass before giving it a smack. You’re quiet, looking down at your boyfriend on the floor. 

“I like this,” he tells you, fingers rubbing over the blue lace. 

You smile, “I know.” 

He pulls you to lay on the floor, he’s sat between your legs with one on either side of him. You’ve propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him. Erling pulls the panties to the side, his eyes fixed on your pussy and he gives you no warning, pushing his fingers into you. The sound leaving your mouth was like heaven on earth to him. 

His fingers curl upwards, your back arching at the feeling. 

“Baby, please.” your hand reaches down to wrap on his wrist but he swats your hand away, managing to pull both to rest on your stomach and his free hand over your hands, pinning them to your stomach. 

You try to wiggle your hands away from him, trying to grab on something. “Behave.” He tells you, adding another finger.

You subconsciously spread your legs, giving him more room. Erling's cheek presses to your inner thigh, watching as your face twists, pleasure all across it and your hands stop wiggling, he smiles, satisfied. 

Erling can feel your eyes on him, he reaches for the blue lace you’re wrapped up in and tugs it down your legs, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothes.

He shifts to lay on his stomach between your legs, leaving a trail of kisses as he works his way up to your cunt. 

Your eyes meet his, he knows you’re looking. He wants you to look at him. Your hips buck when you feel his tongue against your clit, your hand gripping on his hair. 

He knew you like the back of his hand, gripping your thighs to keep them in place as his tongue lapped your clit. Your hips buck, your way of saying you want more and Erling gives in - he always gives into you. Two fingers in you and he glances up to see your head tossed back onto the pillows, eyes fluttering shut and your free hand groping your tit. 

Between his fingers and his tongue, your orgasm was teetering on the edge; he knew that much. 

He pulls his hands away, the sticky fingers on your thighs. A whimper leaves your lips at the loss of fullness. 

“What- why’d you stop?” You asked, pouting at your boyfriend in disapproval.

Erling sits up, patting his lap. “C’mere.” 

You manage to pull yourself up, your legs feeling like jelly as you move yourself onto your boyfriend’s lap. Erling's hands resting on your lower back, fingers dancing up and down the curve of your spine. They run up once more before they stop on the clasp of your bra. 

He unhooks it, letting the straps slide down your arms and land on your lap. He brings his hands around to your stomach, once again his fingers slide up your soft skin before resting on your tits. 

“Erling,” you call, eyes fixed on him.

He hums, his focus on your tits rather than anything you had to say. Gripping his chin between your fingers, he finally looks at you. 

“Please,” you mumble, the desperation all over your face. Erling smiles, there's a look you've seen a million times over on his face.

You’re up on your knees, hovering over his lap, your hands under you as you undo his pants. Erling helps you, pulling them down enough for you to sink down onto him. Your hand rests on his shoulder, giving you a moment to gather yourself before starting to bounce on his lap.

You look at your boyfriend, watching as he kisses down your chest, over your tits before his lips wrap around your nipple, tongue lapping over it. Your hand tangles in his hair, his name falling from your lips.

Your back arches a bit, pushing into Erling. His hand moves from your hip to your other tit, fingers pinching your nipple, twisting and rolling it softly between his thumb and index finger. 

“God,” you breathe, a hand raking through Erling's blonde hair. 

You rock your hips forward and Erling's head drops back into the couch, his eyes fluttered closed.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” His hand pats your hip, “made just for me.” He tells you, your lips on his neck -- a trail of marks and sloppy kisses being left along his neck.

Erling can feel the way you were clenching around him and he knew you were close; you knew he was close, his eyes closed and head back.

His hand reaches between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit once again. “Oh my god,” your hips bucked, his fingers matching the pace of his hips, your body rocking back and forth to get the most out of your boyfriend. 

“C’mon sweetheart, want you to cum for me.” He says, knowing it won't be long more. 

He knew you like the back of his hand, every look, every touch, every movement, he knew you.

Between the two, he pushes you over the edge. The knot in your stomach comes loose and your boyfriend watches as you cum. The wetness wrapping around his cock, and with a few sloppy thrusts, Erling follows behind you. 

The two of you are holding onto each other like the other is going to disappear, giggly and love drunk. Your boyfriend peppers kisses all over your face, your arms wrapped over his shoulders.

It wasn't until there was a knock on the door that you two froze, looking at each other. "Erling?!" The voice calls from outside.

His hand covers your mouth, your brows furrowed and eyes widen as you look at him. His lips are by your ear, "it's the neighbour."

You move his hand, whispering back to him. "The lights are on."

"Shhh, they'll go away if we're quiet."

You look at your boyfriend, lips pressed together in an attempt to muffle your laughter. He really did make you wonder sometimes.

--

taglist: @nosugarallspice  @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16  @books-and-netflix-pls  @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade  @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22

[amirasainz]

Hello. I've put ina fee requests because I love you writing. Would you be able to write one where baby sainz is in a relationship with Erling Haaland and the boys absolutely dislike it and but there is Actually nothing they can do or stop it. Thank you 😊

So, I honestly know nothing about him, so I kind of improvised. Enjoy reading and send some rquests -XoXo

Prince Charming

Why does this happen every time? First it was Dominik, then it was Paulo and now this idiot. Erling Haaland. With his stupid blonde hair and stupid football job.

The drivers were sat grumpily around the room. Each one of them had try to scared him away Individual. For example:

"Woah, ohh no. I'm so sorry" said George. But heavens sake he was anything but sorry. However when he saw Haaland waiting for Amira in front of the Ferrari garage, he knew he had to do something. So with his nice and warm tea, he "accidentally" tripped right on Haaland's shirt. "Oh no. Your shirt. Maybe you should go home and never come back" George said it so quickly it came out like a witch curse. "Ah, don't worry mate. Nothing that hasn't happened before. Thankfully, I always keep an extra shirt in my bag in case of something like this" Haaland replied nicely. "Yay" George muttered sarcastically.

Or the one time where Yuki had to throw knifes during cooking and he nearly cut of Erling's head. But not even that made him stop hanging around Amira. The only thing he said was: "I think you dropped this, mate" picked up the knife and gave him a friendly smile. Yuki only glared back at him.

And let's not forget Lando's attempt at starting rumours about him. That one was a bit extreme. But luck seemed to be on Haalands side. Because no-one, really no-one cared in China about a man called Erling Haaland.

The drivers truly tried everything to get rid of him, but he was like an evil cough. "I tried to convince my father that he was bad news for Amira" Carlos admitted. "What went wrong" asked Daniel quietly, almost as if he was afraid about the answer. "He told me that my abuela like him. And what my abuela says is law in our home" he said defeated.

"Did-Did we truly just los her on a boy that runs after balls like a dog" Charles asked. He looked really traumaticed. The only thing Max did was lay a hand over his shoulder, a silent form of comfort.

Erling Haaland. The man that bagged Amira Sainz. Number 1 enemy at the paddock

[insanescriptist]

Cremation is just another fun(erl) service

So blaming random 4am thoughts that have been plaguing me all day for this

----

Jason woke to a bright room, thin sheets and the smell of a hospital embedded in his body.

First as always, assess. Hospital. No affiliation printed on the walls or anywhere. Private room, but small. That door looked like it led to a private bathroom. Generic flower picture, a mounted screen turned off. Really fucking bright sunlight from the windows.

There was no fucking way he was in Gotham then. Everything was too nice. Normal by standards outside of Gotham. There were blinds, not metal shutters. The walls were cleaner than Gotham allowed outside of Downtown and he could see greenery through the window.

Okay. So what had he been doing? Jason remembered and then wished he had his Jerichos to shoot himself with. Mystic Shit™. Okay. Okay. That was not one of his better ideas, but if he's recovering in a hospital, it worked. World saved.

So recovery. How fucked was he?

His skin looked so fucked. Which meant he had been worse. He's had time to recover and lose muscle tone in, going by how twiggy his arms were. His hands looked good. Clearly someone knew he cared about those if they went through the effort of restoring those.

Hmm, that was odd. No matter how much Jason hated the Lazarus Pits and all its by-products, it would have been a faster and more simple way to recover from near-death than the long incarceration in a hospital for a John Doe.

Jason wasn't sure if he'd been abandoned yet again by those who called themselves his family because he could, "take care of himself," or if he had been written off dead. Again.

Hospital beat the coffin by a long shot.

And it was with that cheery thought, a nurse -obvious meta human nurse- came in and burst into excited Japanese, because that was of course, his luck.

It's after the nurse and doctors leave that Jason loses his shit.

It looks like he's sulking in bed, but mentally everything in his head is exploding. Imploding.

Three. Fucking. Years. Coma.

Burn victim so bad they not only expected him to die in the first couple of days, but still expect it because of the infection risk his fucked up skin represents.

Still the conversation with the medical staff -of varying degrees of bizarre- was enlightening.

No, he has no idea who he is. Did he ever get anyone visit? How did he get here?

Of course some amnesia is to be expected. No, some of the nurses visited. No one knows how he got here.

Does he know what his quirk is? Uh?

Trauma blocked amnesia, the doctor mutters.

What's the last date he remembered?

Saturday. Maybe? The last year? No, I'm pretty sure my memory is shit and I'm trying hard not to freak out over not knowing anything. So could I get the year number?

And then there's the fucking year number. Once he got it translated into more normal terms.

Mystic Shit™ said fuck you to the future.

Except Jason knows this is not his future. Again, if it was, this would have been treated as a fucking inconvenience. Effective skin restoration goop -the proper name escaped him- was easily available to those with the right connections. A normal baseline human with 2nd and 3rd degree burns would be fine in less than two weeks with it, with nary a trace to show for it.

Thanks to the three year coma, his muscles were all atrophied as fuck, despite their best attempts at physical therapy. Because of all the burns and later burn scars and infections making it basically impossible to actually do fuck all about maintaining muscle tone until he was basically burnt skin and bones anyway.

He was so fucking weak now. It wouldn't last forever. He'd escape this hospital before he was discharged, before whatever "benefactor" showed up for whatever "purpose," he was suppose to serve now, as they had the medical debt over his head or was threatening his loved ones or whatever. If one didn't show up in the next week, he was losing his genre-savviness, because shitheads always wanted to claim shit, if it looked useful.

And Jason was used to looking useful, until he was no longer useful and they just didn't care. The amnesia made him less shiny, but Jason couldn't pull off the brain dead zombie imitation without actually being a brain dead zombie crawling up out of his grave.

So under the thin hospital sheets, Jason twitched his muscles.

Two weeks of emotional freak outs, watching the news, physical therapy and drugs Jason had had enough.

And he broke out.

----

Yeah, he regretted it almost immediately. Hard not to in the stupid paper gown, barefoot and bare ass.

Thankfully people were people, even with the plethora of meta humans he had seen, so it actually wasn't hard to find clothes. Someone left a hoodie in their car and Jason broke into said car. Put on the hoodie. Hotwired the car and drove off.

Somehow for being in the fucking future by two centuries and change, cars really hadn't changed. More evidence of Mystic Shit™ slamming him sideways.

He drove to the next town over, picked another direction, drove some more. Parked the car near what looked like a chop shop, negotiated the car for some money. He probably got ripped off, but better than nothing.

He walked to a corner store, bought some flip-flops after bullshitting an excuse that his had broken. First aid stuff. You know, for his feet. Hair dye in three different colors, because Rose Wilson could pick out a bad dye job at a hundred meters and so Jason learned how to dye his own hair properly so as to avoid her mockery, only to get mockery (affectionate) anyway.

It was a mix of instinct and lifelong observation that let him find an empty apartment quickly. He stole some sweatpants and passed out on the bed.

----

The thing is, Jason doesn't regret his crimes like Bruce thinks he ought to do, with a massive pity party and flaming self-hatred and punching criminals instead of shooting them. He hates the necessity of doing crimes, even if that crime is a net gain to society, but that's why all his serious crimes are premeditated. He's homicidal, not a psychopath.

Not Pit-mad either, no matter what the rest of them might have thought.

Again, he's homicidal, not a psychopath. And when he doesn't have to be some sort of costume soldier to be discarded by family for the disgrace of disfiguring the memory of a dead boy? He's actually chill and boring.

That is to say, he crashed at that apartment for three days, felt progressively more like himself, especially after the dye job -white hair all over, now a solid and boring black- but it still didn't change all the other issues the Mystic Shit™ inflicted on him.

This body isn't actually his. Too young, scars not right where the burns didn't fuck him over. Thankfully his existing coping mechanisms for dysphoria work and it's shoved to the side.

It's also a shit body. Not even a month out of a three year coma with inadequate -by his standards- of medical care. It's weak and building muscle to do everyday civilian shit, is going to take months to do. Pushing as hard as he did during the escape wrecked him the next three days. Jason may not know what's going to happen, but with his luck, it's going to suck and training is preparing to make it suck less. The only certainty he's got is that his skin or lack thereof is going to kill him from infection if he doesn't fix it.

He's got no legal identity here. Which basically puts him back onto familiar ground of legally dead.

Beyond the lack of paperwork, he's got a lack of funds. He also has no easy target to steal funds and equipment from, even just for fun.

For more disadvantages, he's in a different country, with different laws and a whole different culture. He would be climbing on board a fucking plane to Gotham, if it existed in this world, for some familiar ground.

He really is the unluckiest Robin. It also means he is also the most prepared Robin.

---

The first six months after waking up in this mockery world of heroics were the absolute worst.

He started at one foot in the grave and crawled out of it before the casket could really eat him alive. Jason had experience in casket busting. He didn't wanna repeat it.

He still didn't know who he was -in who was he inhabiting- but it wasn't like Jason had a lot to go on. 'His' quirk was thermo-manipulation, most obviously in the blue fire he could call to his hands but he could do some ice too; it was thanks to Duke's light and shadow manipulation that he had even tried for the duality. He had white hair. Presumably Japanese heritage but quirks had really erased or blurred a lot of racial lines. Also presumed dead and young.

Access to the Quirk Registry took some doing, but again, not everyone followed basic computer security, much less what it took to keep someone bat-trained out of their systems. Again, for nearly two centuries in the future, a lot of the technological development had stagnated. Searching through the Quirk Registry hadn't yielded any result but none of his other methods had struck anything either. And he had looked at the recently dead and/or presumed dead. Sure, he had some leads that looked viable, but he wasn't going to follow those up yet.

He had fixed a few of his most pressing issues the past six months. His ignorance of the local area, the local and national politics and so on. This world supported and had an entire industry catering to making child soldiers and sell their image and reputation to make money and more child soldiers that called themselves Heroes.

His weak ass body no long cried doing daily tasks and only hated him after working out. Yes, Jason was pushing it but he was well aware of how months of preparation could mean shit in the face of seconds.

His infection risk was severely reduced after quick research bender let him make the most generic knock-off brand of the skin restoration goop in a shitty homemade lab. Did it fix his skin being patchwork fucked in places? Some. He wasn't going to get feeling back properly, but at least he looked more normal. Maybe with enough moisturizing he might look a little less Frankenstien's monster.

He also had a cash inflow. It wasn't great, but it supported his apartment. And the second set of papers. And the 2nd apartment.

Which meant in grand old tradition for Jason, time for him to bounce to the next apartment and come up with a new name.

[fanficgirlysmhh]

Insta jealousy

Summary; When a flirty influencer's obsession with Kylian Mbappe gets out of hand, his girlfriend (y/n) uses a viral Instagram reel to teach him a lesson

Pairing; Kylian Mbappe x reader

Word count; 1281

Warnings: fluff, jealousy, relationship

The tension had been building for weeks. Every day seemed to bring another post or interview from Brenda, the influencer who couldn’t stop talking about how much she adored Kylian Mbappe. Yesterday, she’d taken it a step further, openly declaring in an interview that she loved Mbappe and wanted him to follow her on Instagram. To your dismay, Kylian had obliged. Now, they followed each other, and Brenda liked and commented cheekily on every one of his photos, completely ignoring the pictures of you two together.

You were trying to stay calm, but it was getting harder every day. Fans were tagging you in Brenda’s videos, filling Kylian’s Instagram with questions about your relationship status. You knew you needed to do something before you exploded.

One evening, as Kylian scrolled through his phone, chuckling at something Brenda had posted, you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. "Really, Kylian? You think this is funny?"

He looked up, surprised. "What are you talking about, y/n?"

You crossed your arms, the frustration bubbling up. "Brenda. She’s everywhere, always talking about you, and now you're encouraging her by liking and commenting on her posts."

Kylian sighed, putting his phone down. "It's just harmless fun. She’s just a fan."

"A fan who wants more than just an autograph," you shot back. "And it’s not just her. Her followers, your followers, they all keep tagging me, asking if we’ve broken up. It’s humiliating."

He frowned, the humor fading from his eyes. "I didn’t realize it was bothering you that much."

"Well, it is," you said, the tears of frustration welling up. "I feel like I'm competing for your attention."

Kylian stood, walking over to you. "You don’t have to compete for anything. You're the one I love."

"Then show it," you whispered, the fight draining out of you. "Because right now, it doesn’t feel that way."

Kylian pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "I’m sorry, y/n. I’ll fix this. I didn’t mean to make you feel like this."

You nodded against his chest, but the seed of an idea had already taken root. You would make him see what it felt like. The next day, you called your friends and set your plan in motion.

That afternoon, you and your friends gathered in your living room, ready to film the Instagram reel. You’d found a filter that showed pictures of footballers, allowing you to rate their hotness on a scale of 1-10.

"Alright, ladies," you said, starting the recording. "Let’s rank the hottest footballers."

The first picture that popped up was Jude Bellingham. "Ooh, Jude is definitely a 9," one of your friends said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Those eyes are killer," another friend agreed, giving Jude a high score.

Next up was Erling Haaland. "Haaland’s got that Viking look. Solid 8," you said, laughing as your friends nodded in agreement.

When a picture of Hugo Lloris appeared, your friends went wild. "a total 10!" one of them shouted.

You smiled, ready for the next photo. "And in second place," you said, glancing at the camera with a smirk as a picture of Marcus Rashford appeared, “is someone I’ve had the biggest crush on forever. He’s just... perfect. Definite 9.5.”

Your friends gasped and giggled. "Ooh, tell us more!" one of them teased.

"Maybe later," you said, winking at the camera.

That evening, Kylian came home, his face a mix of confusion and irritation. He held up his phone, the reel paused on the screen. "Y/n, what is this?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, though your heart was racing. "Just a fun reel with my friends. Why? Did it bother you?"

Kylian narrowed his eyes, a hint of jealousy flickering in them. "You didn’t even put me on the list, and you ranked guys who look like me. And what's this about a long-standing crush on Rashford?"

You crossed your arms, trying to maintain your cool. "Why does it bother you? You find it cute when Brenda fawns over you in every interview, and you even follow her back and like her pictures.“

Before Kylian could respond, his phone buzzed again. He glanced at it, his eyes widening slightly. "Rashford... he commented on your reel."

Your heart skipped a beat. "What did he say?"

Kylian read aloud, "‘Always knew I had a secret admirer! Thanks for the love, y/n.’” He looked up, his jealousy now unmistakable. “And he put a winking emoji.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Well, can you blame him?”

Kylian didn’t seem amused. Instead, he quickly typed a reply, "‘Back off, mate. She's taken.’”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his protectiveness. "Feeling a bit jealous, are we?"

Kylian sighed, pulling you into a hug. "I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I thought it was just harmless fun. But seeing you talk about other guys... yeah, it made me jealous."

You looked up at him, your resolve wavering. "I just wanted you to see how it feels."

He sighed, pulling you closer. "I’m sorry. I didn't think about how it would affect you. You know you're the only one I care about, right?"

You melted into his embrace, feeling the tension ease away. "I know. I guess I just needed a little reminder."

Kylian kissed the top of your head, holding you tight. "I promise, I'll be more mindful. And for the record, you’re way hotter than any influencer out there."

You laughed, feeling the last of your jealousy slip away. "And you’re way hotter than Haaland."

Kylian chuckled, lifting your chin to look into your eyes. "Good to know. Now, how about we take a break from social media and spend some quality time together?"

You nodded, smiling up at him. "Sounds perfect."

As the evening wore on, you and Kylian put the drama behind you

---

The next morning, as you cuddled with Kylian on the couch, you had an idea. Grabbing your phone, you set it up to record another reel. Kylian watched curiously as you began.

"Hey everyone," you said with a grin. "After yesterday's fun, I realized I missed someone very important. So today, I'm going to rank the hottest footballer, and honestly, there's no competition. The number one spot goes to..."

You turned the camera to Kylian, who smiled sheepishly. "Kylian Mbappe," you said proudly. "No one even comes close."

Kylian laughed, pulling you into his lap. "You're just saying that because you have to."

You shook your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "No, I'm saying it because it's true."

As you posted the reel, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Within minutes, comments started pouring in, and fans were tagging Brenda, mocking her obsession and praising your sweet relationship.

Kylian glanced at the screen and then back at you, his expression softening. "Thank you," he said quietly.

You smiled, leaning your head against his. "Always, Kylian. You're the only one for me."

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

Mbappe x reader where haaland tries hitting on reader and mbappe gets jelly ?? Fluffy and sweet 😇😇😇

Jealousy, Jealousy

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — The one where Kylian gets jealous.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 1.5k

Warnings! Fluffity FLUFF, tiny bit of angst (just a smidge), Swearing (barely), Love bomb.

Kylian doesn't get jealous.

At least that's what he's telling himself as he stands by the snack table watching Erling Haaland flirt with you.

He knew he had no right to be. After all, it wasn't your fault that he wasn't man enough to ask you out. But that didn't stop the green-eyed monster from possessing him.

It should be him.

Him making you laugh, whispering in your ear, holding your hand. If only he had the courage to talk to you. But how could he? You were so out of his league.

You look beautiful, wearing a green dress, the silk hugging your curves in all the right places. Your skin glows radiantly under the soft glow of the chandelier, accentuating your beauty. The emerald shade of the dress compliments your eyes, making them shine even brighter, even from all the way he's standing.

You're beautiful.

His grip tightens around his wine glass as he watches you tip your head back in laughter at something he says. His eye nearly twitches when he sees Haaland place his palm on your shoulder, almost caressing you. It should be him.

And it will be.

Taking one last swing of his champagne, he clears his throat and marches over.

"So, what are you doing after this."He overhears Haaland ask once he's close enough.

"Um..."

"Y/N." His breath hitches as you turn around, your usual smile lighting up your face, melting his heart. He swears he almost faints when you reply to him in that soft, sweet voice of yours, the sound sending shivers down his spine.

"Hey, Kylian."

He has to take a moment to compose himself, subtly wiping his moist palms on the pants of his suit. "Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?" From the corner of his eye, he sees Haaland stiffen at him being here, clearly threatened by his presence. And the thought brings a small satisfying smirk to his face.

"Yeah, sure. Um, Erl, can you excuse me for a second." He hates the way you have a nickname for him. But his heart flutters at how polite you are.

You were by far the kindest most gentle person he had ever met in his life. Even on your worst day, you still managed to show kindness and compassion towards people. The good and the bad. It's why he fell and continues to fall in love with you every day.

Now, if only he could say that out loud.

I will. He thinks to himself, determined.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about." You ask once you guys are away from the crowd, tucked in a little corner beside the chocolate truffles. He watches with amusement as you grab one and stuff it into your mouth. Completely unapologetic.

Another thing he loved about you. You're never afraid to be yourself, but not in a weird way. In a way that makes people comfortable around you.

He remembers the day he first met you. At this children's charity football match that you were helping organize. His manager had asked him to surprise the kids after many of them expressed their wish to meet him. And he had agreed.

Little did he know.

He was dribbling the ball, showing off a bit for the kids, when he spotted you across the field. You were there, cheering like crazy, smile shining brighter than any stadium light he had ever seen. You were a sweaty mess, hair tangled and sticking to your forehead, surrounded by kids. But you didn't seem to care.

And for a moment he felt like the universe paused.

It's been two years since then, but his heart still skips a beat every time he sees you, thinks about you. You're like a drug that he can't get enough of. Getting high every time he takes a hit.

Now you guys are friends, have been since that day. But he wants more. More of you.

He knows that risking the friendship you have built is risky, but he can't ignore this anymore. No matter what happens, he's glad he's had you in his life.

Besides, the worst you can say is no. Right?

With a deep breath, he musters all the strength in his body, feeling like his knees are about to give out from under him. "Y/N," He starts his voice shaking slightly, "I've been thinking..." The rest of the sentence dies in his throat as he looks into your eyes.

Fuck.

Just say it, Kylian.

Your curiosity grows as you wait for him to continue. The bright light of the chandeliers above seems to dim around you, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of his vulnerability.

You furrow your brow when you notice his hands visibly shaking, now a bit concerned by his serious tone and nervous behavior. "Kylian, what's going on? You're starting to worry me."

The way you're looking at him takes his breath away, so much warmth in your eyes and something else, and he can't stop himself from blurting it out.

"I love you."

Time stops. You blink, processing his words, as the words hang heavy. Kylian's heart pounds in his chest as he waits for your response, palms clammy with fear. The silence stretches on, leaving him feeling insecure and exposed.

The vulnerability in his eyes tugs at your heartstrings. And you put him out of his misery.

Without saying a word, you lean in and kiss him. It's slow and passionate, a culmination of all the emotions that have been building between you. You taste of chocolate and champagne , a sweet intoxicating combination that leaves him craving for more.

So he takes. Deepening the kiss, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. The world around you fades away as you both lose yourself in the moment, savoring every sensation.

The kiss speaks volumes, confirming what words alone cannot express—your love for him too.

It lasts for a minute but feels like an eternity, as if time has stopped just for the two of you. When you finally pull away, you both are left breathless, your hearts pounding in sync.

The intensity of it all lingers in the air, crushing you under the weight of your newfound bond.

It's a feeling neither of you want to forget.

"I love you too." You whisper softly, your voice barely audible amidst the background chatter

Kylian is speechless as he looks into your eyes, his crinkling with how wide he's smiling. Then he's kissing you again, this time with more fervor. And you lose yourself in him, the taste of him, the feel of him.

Him.

Your back hits the wall and you snap back to reality, realizing where you are. The last thing you wanted was for this private moment between you to become front-page news tomorrow.

You're hidden by the large curtains that surround the secluded corner of the room, but you don't want to risk someone seeing you.

"Kylian," you mumble breathlessly, breaking away from the kiss. But he won't let you, going back for more. You almost melt into it but the sound of footsteps approaching causes a surge of panic to rush through your veins. And you push him away.

Kylian looks at you with confusion and concern, a bit hurt, but when Erling Haaland rounds the corner, he quickly understands.

"Y/N! Y/N. There you are. Where did Kylian g-?" Erling's voice trails off as he takes in the scene before him. Your lipstick is smudged and your hair is disheveled, and Kylian stands a few steps away from you with red-stained lips.

Kylian steps forward, a smug expression on his face as he stares at Erling. Erling's eyes flicker between the two of you, his confusion turning into a smirk. "Well, well, well," he says teasingly. "Looks like you've finally done it."

Kylian's slight smirk turns into a frown and he crosses his arms defensively. "Done what?" he asks, his tone defensive. Erling chuckles and nods towards you. "Ms, girl over there has been crushing on you forever," he replies, a playful glint in his eyes as his eyes fall on your cowering form. "Erling, I love him but I don't know how to tell him." He does an exaggerated high-pitched imitation of your voice and your face flushes with embarrassment as you avoid making eye contact with Kylian.

"Stop." You reach over and playfully swat Erling's arm, trying to hide your embarrassment with a smile. Kylian watches the whole interaction with a smile. Kylian's smile widens, and he takes a step closer to you. "You love me." He singsongs, placing a soft peck on your lips.

Erling gags beside you causing you both to giggle.

Kylian shouldn't get jealous. Because you were his all along.

-Bianca🌻

[libraryofloveletters]

Can’t Get Away From You

Erling Haaland x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: a mini fight, some shouting, one mention of throwing something at someone, your boyfriend is attached to your hip and follows you like a puppy, power outages, jumpscares, some swearing, stuck in the middle of no where. 

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: okay I lied, I know I said no fics but this was in my drafts and I had the urge to finish it :) also this was a random idea that @themandaloriansdiaries​ and I came up with on ft many many nights ago

-- 

"Why do you always do this?” You shouted at the man across the room from you. 

Your boyfriend stares at you like you had gone insane and sometimes he thought you were, but tonight’s shouting was justified.

The two of you were supposed to go to your sister’s surprise birthday party but big shocker, Erling chose to stay back and kick a ball around for another 2 hours. Their training session was already done, he had no reason to stay back and yet he did. You were waiting for him so you could go together opposed to taking two cars because he kept telling you 10 more minutes and he’d be home, but you ended up being two hours late to your own sister’s party.

“I said I was sorry, didn’t I?” He looks at you and you can’t help but roll your eyes. 

“Yes, because that makes up for the fact that I was late to my sister’s party. You’d never do that to your sister, would you? And you know I would never do that to her either. I actually care to show up when I say I will.” 

“Y/n, you're overreacting. She didn’t even care that you were late.” He huffed, sitting on the couch. 

You cannot believe him; he was late, had the audacity to tell you she didn’t even care and now he can't even stand up so you can shout at him? You were sick of his shit, you needed to leave before you threw something at his head. 

The man watches as you grab your purse and phone, storming out of the front door and letting it slam shut behind you. He gets up, following you out the door.  

“Where are you going?” He shouts from the porch, you don’t answer but instead get into your car and back out of the driveway. 

You had no idea where you were going but you needed to be anywhere but there. 

You drove for what felt like hours before you finally stopped in some random parking lot off the side of the road; you had driven out of the city and into the countryside. Hunger was kicking in and you tumbled through your purse for a mint, a piece of gum or literally anything edible. Eventually giving up on the tumbling, you dumped the contents of your purse into the passenger seat and switched on the light. 

There’s a set of keys staring at you, a bright blue man city key chain hung on the bunch; the keys to the cabin. 

Shortly after you and Erling began dating, the two of you decided you needed a place to go when you wanted to be away from the city. That’s how you ended up with a cabin 3 hours outside of Manchester. 

The sky was varying shades of the black and the once viable moon was now blocked by clouds. You figured since you were closer to the cabin then you were home, you might as well spend the night there. 

Another hour and you pulled into the muddy driveway, it seemed to have rained at some point during the day. You silently thank your boyfriend in your head for putting in sensor lights, otherwise you might have just slept in the car. The yard was pitch black and the Remingtons, the couple who owned the house across from your place, were away for the summer which meant you were all alone in the middle of nowhere. 

The thought freaked you out, but not enough to make you turn back and go home. 

You shoved everything back into your purse, slinging it over your shoulder as you avoided the puddles of mud on your way to the front door. The look clicked as you turned the key and you sprinted into the cabin, shutting the door behind you. 

A hand dragged across the wall, feeling for the light switch and you pressed it, lighting up the place. You also turned on the light in the kitchen, bathroom and bedroom because you were alone.. not because you were scared or anything like that. 

The cupboards were pretty empty, anything of substance was eaten the last time you two were there because you didn’t want it to go bad. The only things were a few boxes of mashed potatoes, a can of corn and one can of sliced pineapple. 

You couldn't be bothered to cook so you pulled the pineapple can out and was about to crack it open when there was a knock on the front door. 

It was safe to say your blood ran cold. 

The Remingtons were gone, you were certain of that because they told you to check on the house when you come down if you did, which meant they weren’t there. 

No one else lived around here, and you can’t just say no one is home because you switched on every light possible. 

Setting the can down, you slowly made your way to the door. You waited to hear if there’s another knock, you peeked out the front window in hopes of catching a glimpse of whatever was outside. 

“Babe!” The voice called, startling you. “Open up!” 

You groaned, the voice belonging to none other than your boyfriend. You opened the door, unfortunately, and found your giant of a boyfriend standing there with a bag in hand.

“Are you gonna make me stand in the rain?” He asks, the hood over his head blocking the water from his face. “I figured you didn’t eat dinner, so I brought you something to eat.” He stepped into the house; he was so big, you couldn’t really stop him if you wanted too.

“When the rain stops, I want you out.” You turn to him and he smiles, nodding. 

He handed the bag over to you, the smell of Chinese food filling your surroundings. You refused to cave, holding your ground and staying mad at him. He shut the door behind him, turning the locks. 

“What the fuck man? How’d you know I was here?” You handed the bag over to him, acting like you didn’t want it. Erling shrugged, taking the bag back and going to the kitchen. 

He unpacked the boxes, setting them on the counter. “You left your location on.” 

You groaned quietly, cursing yourself for leaving it on. Erling ignores your theatrics and puts some food on a plate for you, bringing it over to you and setting it on your lap. He knew you well enough to know if he offered the plate to you, you’d refuse and you needed to eat; part of why you were so snappy with him was because you were hungry. 

He can’t help but notice how you un-tense now that he’s around; it brought a smile to his face but he didn’t dare say anything. 

Erling sat beside you, eating quietly.

“Can we play a board game?” He asked, setting the plate on the coffee table. 

“No.” 

Erling hummed, going to dig the monopoly box out from the tv stand drawer. He set up the board, all the little pieces, the cards and the dice and began playing by himself. 

You ignored the man, trying not to laugh as he screwed him over on one of the places he wanted. He rolled the dice, counting out the places he needed to move when the lights shut off. 

The sound of thunder startled out, causing you to jump slightly. 

“Babe, you okay?” He called, getting up. “Ow fuc-” he groans, probably stepping on one of the little pieces. 

“I’m fine,” you get up, walking to the kitchen to get your phone off the table. It wasn’t pitch black, you can still make your way around the house so you searched through the kitchen cupboards for some candles, anything that can give you light for the time being. 

Erling had gone quiet, you were about to turn around to see where he was but a hand on your shoulder caused you to drop your phone and let out a scream. 

“It’s just me,” he laughed and you smacked his arm. 

“What the fuck man! God, you are so- ugh.” 

You sit at the table, phone back in hand as you called the power company. They finally get to your call after an hour on hold and let you know that the power won’t be turning back on until tomorrow morning. 

The phone dropped on the table, your head tipped back as you groaned. 

Erling reaches for the candles on the top shelf and lights them, setting them on the table. He sits across from you quietly, the two of you listening to the rain until the sound stops, the last flash of lighting strikes and it goes quiet. 

He looks out the window and back at you, the soft orange glow of the candle light reflecting off of your skin. “I should head out,” he says, pulling your focus to him. 

“What?” 

“The rain.. it stopped. You said leave when it’s done raining.” He reminds you, standing up. 

“Oh.. right, yeah. Okay, go ahead.” 

Erling kisses your head when he walks past you, telling you to call him if you needed anything but you ignored him, still holding out on being upset even though you weren’t anymore. 

The door shuts, you move from your spot at the dining room table to the couch but before you could sit down, the doorbell rings again. “What?” You shouted, walking over to see what he wanted. 

He smiles at you when you open the door, pointing to the tree that’s fallen and blocked the driveway. “I’m stuck.” 

“Use that viking strength of yours and push it away.” You shut the door again and went back to the couch. 

You felt a bit bad, the guilt of him sitting out in the rain sunk in, even more so seeing that you had nothing to distract you. You pulled yourself off the couch and opened the door again, assuming you’d see his car on and him in it but it was off, the driveway was dark and the tree was still there. 

“Erling?!” You shouted in the emptiness, “where are you?!”

There’s no answer but what are you supposed to do? Stand out in the rain or maybe go looking for him in the dark? 

You shut the door, turning back around to see him sitting at the kitchen table.

“WHAT THE FUCK ERLING?!” You screamed, your heart jumping out of your body momentarily. You let out a breath, hand pressed to your chest. “How the hell did you get in here?” 

“The back door was open.” 

“Why are you lurking at the back- wait, it was unlocked?” Your brows furrowed, looking towards the back door. 

Erling nodded, “yeah, I wasn’t lurking though. I went to check if the generator would turn on.” 

“And it did?” You wrapped the blanket from the couch around yourself. 

Erling looked up at the light that’s yet to turn on. “I mean, obviously not.” 

It was freezing in the cabin, considering that the power had shut off and it was raining, it only made it colder. 

“C’mere,” Erling calls for you, his arms opened as he waits for you to come cuddle up next to him. You shook your head, waddling your way to the bedroom. Your boyfriend follows you, watching as you dropped on the bed and pulled the comforter up on top of you. 

You can feel the cold running up your spine, the cold air creeping along your skin despite the two blankets and the giant man in the room lifting the blanket wasn’t helping. 

“What are you doing?” You grumbled, not turning around. 

Erling slipped into bed next to you, pulling you flat against his chest. His body was like a heater, the man wrapping his arms around you and kissing your shoulder before fixing the blanket. 

You tried to wiggle away but he held you firmly in place. “You can stay mad but I'm not letting you freeze.” 

You let your boyfriend hold you, simply because it's cold and not because you were mad at yourself for being mad at him for no reason. At some point, the two of you must've dozed off.

-- 

The lights were what woke you up; bright white lights shining down on you from the ceiling and the fact that the curtains were still open didn't help your eyes that were now adjusting to being open again. 

There’s some heavy on you, you can’t even pull yourself up and you’re almost certain you know what it is. You look down to find your giant of a boyfriend on top of you. His arm tossed over your hip, face smooshed against your stomach as he snored quietly. 

You smiled, forgetting all about last night as you pulled the hair tie from his hair. He stirred, settling moments later when you passed your hand through his hair. Your fingers rubbed along his scalp, massaging his head. 

“Morning,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your stomach. He kicked the blanket off of him, “it's hot.” 

“Power turned back on.” 

He shifts, laying beside you and pulling you into his side. “I’m sorry about last night.” 

“Mhm hm, I know.” Your fingers dragged along his shirt. Erling looked down at you, “are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Sorry,” he says, like it's obvious. 

“No,” you joked, smiling at him. Erling knows you were, you don’t really do emotions or say sorry but he knows you are. 

He laughs, kissing your forehead.“Shall we go get breakfast?” 

You groan, burying your face in his side. “We have to take two cars.” “Oh and move the tree.” He reminds you, making you groan again. 

--- 

taglist: @thesnailus @alwaysclassyeagle​ @kylianswag​

add yourself to the taglist! 

[kalembappe]

do with that what you will | j.b. 5 (feat. e.h. 9)

a/n: remember when I wrote? back in June? Time flies. Also hi anon who req'd this forever ago, title's yours. also proofread! but don't hold it against me, english is a hard language. wordcount: 4501 nsfw under cut! minors dni 18+...pwp(very little plot), choking, oral(m receiving), public(?), unprotected p in v sex, overusing of italics

You were moody today. He could tell by the way you avoided his eyes to how you’d only talk when acknowledged (by someone else) but not before plastering that scrunched smile that only he could tell was fake. It’s not like your reasons are invalid, if anything he was the one to blame for this but he doesn’t have time for your petty squabbling, you’re in public and you’re both adults. You know well enough that you should act like it.

At least that’s what he thought until he saw his old friend, the one that just completely bodied his team 14 hours prior to tonight is now standing next to his girlfriend, you’re talking with that pretty smile that was the death of him, easily would be the death of anyone else.

He looks like a lamppost, he observes the man dressed in all black; a complete contrast to his bright platinum hair slicked into its normal bun.

You looked more at ease now that you were talking to him, you both did. Compared to your stiffness to other people, you seem to warm up to him. You were so comfortable that you even let him stand by you with your arm pressed against his broader one.

Not as broad as mine, but you know I– Again, he catches himself. He should stop. That’s his friend too. The interaction unfolds, what should be friendly, is anything but to him. To him. He should look away, but he can’t.

This isn’t supposed to bother him. It wouldn’t bother him as much as it does if he didn’t know that Erling used to pine for you. Grovel at your feet even. He remembers that boyish grin he makes every time you would interview them post game or before. People would point it out online, saying things such as you favor the Dortmund players or that you’re so critical but praise Erling like he was god and even thought it was funny at first knowing he himself made you see god.

It’s unfair that he suddenly wanted to show Erling his place, he isn’t even sure if he knows that you and Jude were a thing at all and maybe only now had he suddenly found the confidence in himself to finally talk to you; but that was never a priority in his brain when he boils catching sight of a hand that isn’t his resting on your back.

Jude set the shot glass down a little louder than normally, clinking against the marble of the table. He picks up another one, it’s his third…or fourth. Actually, He isn’t sure, he lost count and he doesn’t leave his place. He doesn’t move when Erling’s pinky taps on your back, his patience runs thinner by every inch that finger dips lower than where it’s welcome.

The only thing that breaks Jude from his reverie is when he catches your eye as you turn back for the shortest moment, droopy and paired with a lazy smirk. He didn’t care much until he realized what it implied; you’re tipsy, not enough to be too vulnerable, but enough to let yourself be reckless to do something you shouldn’t. You wink, solidifying his conclusion–you know what you’re doing.

Before he knows it, you’re back to entertaining his “friend” only this time you’re a lot more confident, talking louder, smiling wider, even grabbing his bicep as you slightly tilt your head back from laughing. It irks him, but he’ll play your game. He wonders if Erling knows he’s playing too. *

You’ve been avoiding him all night. Even at home– his home you mean (where you luckily had some appropriate clothes), dodging kisses and pretending like you don’t feel his stare at the back of your head just like he was doing now; seconds before Erling asks you to go dancing. A bit of a surprise since you thought he only approached you to ask where the toilet was and now you’re dancing? He had to lean down to your height to be audible over the music. The question hangs in the air–Should you? Probably not.

“Sure.” It comes out before you realize, but the acknowledgement in his face tells you that you indeed said it out loud.

You have to stop yourself from turning back too fast when you feel Erling’s palm rest lowly on your back, he says something you don’t listen to– he’s getting himself another drink(looking back, his intentions were obvious if he started drinking right after he asked where the restroom was). His attention shifted long enough for you to finally steal a glance at Jude, who’s shot glass threatened to crack between his fingers. He liked to pretend it was Erling’s pinky, grip tightening as he watches it brushes on your back. His stare follows as you take the initiative of walking Erling to where the people are drunk and dancing.

From anyone’s point of view, it seems like the next story on Hello! Magazine, awaits Erling, but contrary to how it appears, your mind was occupied completely and utterly of Jude. How much you hated him, how he looks like sitting with his legs spread, wondering how far you could press till he cracks. It’s all fair play though, he out of anyone should know.

He promised himself that after the game, you would get to hangout. You were excited, you thought maybe you’d go out for dinner, do something intimate; just the two of you, but after a day’s rest (that you so generously granted him) he says he needs to attend a party, for old time’s sake.

You didn’t know how to react at first, should you be mad? You started to feel so, but thought to yourself; do you even have the right to? You shook that thought off your head. Of course you did! You let your insecurities go before settling on disappointment. Jude saw this, thought it’d be better if you spent what could’ve been your date together at the party. With his friends. Might as well bring his mum, she’s better company anyways.

Call it what you want, maybe It’s a bit childish how you hated the thought of sharing Jude to anyone, a bit possessive; but it’s hard having to arrive at a party together only to split up and socialize with other people so you can keep things hush, water down suspicion. You understand why he does it, you think it’s best too. But just for tonight, you hoped; you didn’t have to share him with the world. Alas, another day goes where you have to. Anyway, if he liked to do it so much then he shouldn’t mind if you share a little too.

The music changes once your heels click on the dance floor, the song’s slower. Erling’s stills, “I’m not good at this” Hands hover over your body, he didn’t know where to place them. He’s antsy, it’s cute–you won’t deny that; the drinks wear off when you’re nervous. Suddenly he’s aware that you’re dancing with him. You feel a little bad knowing you’re using him, regardless, he’s still a nice guy. Always thought he was a little sweet. Your eyes crinkle as you smile, watching him blush. Confidently, you push down the hands onto your hips before adding a firm pat to reassure him. “Keep it there.” You sound more serious then you’re supposed to, it makes Erling gulp. All his confidence may have just been the alcohol talking, and if he were being honest, he wished he drank a bit more.

Jude watched as you giggled–he scowled, you’ll have nothing to laugh about if you keep this up. If he was jealous when Erling put a hand on your back, he was livid when he watched you laugh with Erling, like you’re actually enjoying yourself. He’s not one to be insecure, he’d never even entertained the thought but that seemed to change when this jealousy turned into something worse. He couldn’t put it into words. It boils in him as your hips sway, you’re too close to each other, but he’s rooted where he stood. He’s mesmerized and enraged, but he won’t go down without a fight.

Minutes pass and Jude finds himself seated next to his friends, he figured he needed to let loose, maybe people were getting suspicious with how he’d only kept his attention to that girl dancing with Erling Haaland. Gio yells over the music, “did you order this?” his eyes shift to his friend, confusion replacing Jude’s then blank face. He almost said no before catching a group of girls giggling to themselves. Just as Gio was about to return them back, Jude tapped his shoulder, “I’ll be back.” He didn’t wait for a reply, already trekking his way to his next mission.

Erling’s let’s his limbs set loose, even if he’s just jumping to the music, you’re jumping with him. It’s dark, but it was lit enough that he could make out the shape of your jaw and the curves of your body, he doesn’t know why he hasn’t noticed but it drew him in even more. He spins you, back resting on his front, hands are on your hips as you sway to the rhythm. For the first time tonight, Jude was the last thing on your mind.

But from where you stood, you felt eyes on you; consciously, you opened yours only to get a glimpse of something that made your blood cold. Hands were on him. Everywhere. He’s got his arms out with two girls wrapped on him like he was a tree. The music tunes out, the hands on your body disappear, and it’s red. You see red. It makes your fingers twitch. He catches your eye, how your movements slow until your whole body’s rigid, and thought to himself; I’ve won. He grins, satisfied with your reaction. But if anything, you’re the stubborn one in this relationship.

Erling’s voice is soft on your ear, polite as he is. “Are you okay?” You don’t look his way, you’re busy making sure Jude’s watching. You trail your eyes back to Erling with a smile that fooled anyone.

He’s upside down from your point of view, the outline of his jaw more prominent under the shadow. The stare you give makes his cheeks hot. He’s about to say something but the words get caught in his throat when the feeling of your hips grinding back at him registers in his brain. He short circuits, forgetting every word he’s known.

Jude’s smirk leaves as soon as it arrives, dropping and taken over by his wide eyes–ironically mirroring Erling’s expression who’s grip lands on your hips for leverage. Your eyes look blown under the light, big and innocent like you don’t know what you’re doing–but Erling knows, they both know you do. You’re close to his face, enough that he could see the remnants of gloss on your lips.

It happened quickly, someone spilled liquid on you, mostly your shoes but also a little on your dress. It’s beer. You look up, both of you pulled away. Maybe you should’ve cared that you ruined it, the shoes that Jude bought you. Jude. Fuck. You look up, he’s already leaving sans the two girls he had all over him. Maybe you overdid it this time. Taking a quick glance at Erling, he’s occupied with the person apologizing to him, reassuring the man. He’ll be fine on his own, you think to yourself. When Erling picks his head up, you’re already gone.

You follow him amidst the sea of sweaty drunk people, shoving, and pushing. You think of what you want to say, apologize? That’s completely unfair. It’s not like you were gonna actually lean in and he shouldn’t have ditched you in the first place or canceled last second– And where does he think he’s going?

You curse this world for giving him long legs, walking two steps at a time. Everything just decides to be an inconvenience to you today. Your voice is dry with alcohol and the lack of use, but still you yell over the unnecessarily loud club music.

“Jude! Can you please– slow down! Asshole...” You say the last part in a normal tone only to realize you’ve said it loud enough for him to hear. There’s a cold breeze on your shoulders that tells you you’re at the exit, the door’s open and it’s quiet. Jude turns slowly, a more than displeased expression on his face.

“Me? I’m the asshole?” He scoffed.

“Yes. You ditched me!”

“And you seemed to find great company.”

A scowl disturbs your features, “You were doing the same thing!”

Before he responds, he pauses, Jude does something you both have been avoiding all night. He takes a deep breath, recollecting himself. His voice is steady, “Look, I can tell you’re upset about tonight,”

“Wonder what gave that away–”

“Let me finish.” You cross your arms on your chest, mumbling to yourself. Jude takes a step in your direction, enclosing your figure on the wall but (as much as you’d hate to admit) it isn’t suffocating, he’s warm and the scent of his clothes are comforting. His fingers stroke your arm up and down till they reach the space between your neck and your shoulder. They linger for a moment before softly brushing the hair clinging to your skin.

“I know why you’re mad, okay? I get it baby.” You sigh when his head ducked to your height. His voice is so soft on your ear that you can’t help but sink into the wall, his body pressing flush on yours. Lips graze the shell of your ear, leaving a soft peck on the sensitive skin. Jude… dazed, you whine his name. “I know you can’t help it..” He continued, “I know you can’t because,” fingers stroke your throat. “Well ‘cause you’re a whore.”

As soon as your eyes open, there’s a grip that tightens at the sides of your throat, squeezing out a strangled noise from you. A whimper or a moan, You aren’t sure anymore. There’s a pause in the air, he waits for you to say something. You don’t–no, you can’t. The damp spot on your underwear strengthens his claim. Heat rushes to your cheeks, you want to tell him off at least, leave a snarky remark but embarrassment floods in your stomach and his hold on you is immovable. His eyes speak for himself, Look at me–it read, but you never had the strength to look away in the first place.

“You think I’m gonna let you off easy? You’re used to that aren’t you. ‘Cause I spoil you too much, isn’t that right?” His tone is sweet, his hand brushes your temple gently, but it isn’t real–the only thing you could register with a lack of air in your brain. Your body shudders when the stroke of his hand travels lower, the one on your neck slacking but he still keeps you between him and the wall. So close that you could feel his breath on your cheek, his knee taking place between your legs and pressing slowly, you gasp.

“Jude not– here.” You curse at yourself. It was supposed to come out firmly, a command, rather it sounded like a meek plea. Jude’s leg bumped against your clothed front like he was playing with you, your thighs tried to shut but it only made things worse. “Please we’re in public–” He paused his movement before scoffing at your words.

“Really? You didn’t seem to mind while you were fucking around with Erling. ‘In public’, for someone in the media, you could lie better than that.” You wince when you recall the events earlier tonight and how he spat your name out in disgust. “Maybe I should just keep you on a short leash so you don’t hump on people like a bitch.” The words are shameless, and the lack of a better term, fucking vile that it makes you squirm. You look down, unable to meet his eyes.

“Why are you so bothered? Thought you liked this...? So open for everyone to see…” His hands massage low on your back, reclaiming what’s his. Jude’s tone was frustratingly cocky that you almost rolled your eyes if his knee didn’t come up and down again to get your attention, a surprised whimper escaped from you. “Hey, Don’t cry for me yet, I’ve barely started.”

Your hands press flatly on his chest, “Jude, can we just– let’s do it somewhere more private.” You do your best to coax the man with eyes he normally can’t just say no to, thinking that seemed to soften him just a little.

He takes a step back, enough that you can breathe your own air, albeit keeping you from sinking to your knees with his hands on your waist. He sighed, “You’re right.” *

Tears prick the corners of your eyes, the mascara that you meticulously applied earlier although waterproof is probably running down your cheeks. Drool gathers around your lips, he thumbs under your jaws; a reminder to keep it slack. Jude’s torturously slow with his movements, making sure that you take all of him. You do your best to do the complete opposite and take him in eagerly, the head of his cock reaching the back of your throat causing both of you to moan. Jude, having none of it, sinks deeper in response, causing you to flinch your head back in a fit of coughs. He wipes your swollen lips of the liquid that gathered with a dumb grin on his stupid face, enjoying the sight of you on your knees.

You swallow back spit to clear your throat, holding onto his thigh so the strain on your knees wouldn’t hurt as much. Catching your breath, you glare at him, “Dick.”

He flashes a smile, “Yes, what did you think it was?” He looked completely unserious, relaxed even, bringing down one of his hands to his side. He tucks your chin between his fingers, “Come on, angel. The faster you get me off, the faster it is for you to get up off your knees.” Lightly, he slaps the head of his cock on your cheek. The pout you make is endearing, a glimpse of your usual adorable self that he’d nearly ruined by slotting himself between your lips. “Unless…you want to keep at it till someone walks in and sees the Fox sports journalist giving head to a Dortmund player? I can already see the tabloids– fuck.”

The sound is enough encouragement, Jude’s cock twitches as he watches you (all he ever does) your pink tongue licks a stripe up his length before you suckle on the tip, cheeks hollowing, sealed tight, taking your time. Your answer is clear, Jude doesn’t know whether to celebrate or crumble. His grunts are short and restricted, yet they echo in the wide restroom that you were dragged to on a whim, how you got here happened in flashes of red lights that disappeared when you heard the door shut, unsure if he locked it–you know you didn’t but it adds to the thrill, the thought makes your stomach swirl and your knees shut.

You’re kind enough to sink your mouth deep till you're half way. Slowly, you pick up the pace. The rise and fall of his chest accelerate, gasps turn into moans. His hips meet yours, although his movements were careful, he was desperate. It didn’t help his resolve when your eyes fluttered at him, all pretty even with you gagging on his dick. His hands absentmindedly found their way to the back of your hair, finally letting himself yield and start fucking your throat. You try your best to catch up even if you’re no longer moving in your own accord and just making sure to breathe through your nose. Just as his moans turn ragged, he pulls you off, leaving you gasping for air. He lends you a minute, tilting your chin up at him to meet his eye.

“All good?” he waits for you to nod–you do, still trying to breathe. He strokes your lips with his thumb, wiping it dry. You look up at him, eyes hazy and blown. “Get up.” He commands, tone stripped of all its grit. You’re a beat too slow that Jude forces you up your shaky knees himself. You have to hold onto him and lean into his body. He’s just as wobbly but he tries his best to be steady for you both.

You’re close enough that he could steal a chaste kiss. What was an intimate exchange turned greedy. You’re on your tiptoes to reach him, but you’re not close enough, urging him to lean to your height, his palm traveling from your spine to the back of your head. He needs to feel your body and engrain the scent of your perfume on his. He flips you over, back now on the wall, hands greedy on your skin like he doesn’t know where to with your body. You nibble on his bottom lip a tad too hard that it makes him hiss. You kiss it better, sweet for a moment before swiping your tongue across it. He takes the hint and deepens the kiss and slips his tongue in exchange. You part, he leaves a peck on your forehead, drawing his lips to your cheek then to your neck

You’re getting impatient. Your body’s a lot more fidgety, writhing with every press into you. “Jude can you- I want-”

“Be quiet.” His tone was cold, still he kisses you dumb, he has the lips for it. It’s physical and intangible. He draws you in and lures your soul out, it makes your knees weak and turns you breathless. Your arms settle on his shoulders–they’re taught and big, your clothed cunt brushes against his dick—it makes you dizzy, sinking further into the wall.

He shifts your leg up on his hip, the other following naturally. You breathe heavily, his hands are impetuous on your body while he hikes up your dress roughly, settling for the fabric to hug your ribs. He pushes the flimsy material of your knickers, groaning as he sees you clench on nothing when the cool air meets your throbbing cunt, shiny with arousal. Fuck, baby. He mutters, voice above a whisper, you can’t tell if he meant to say it out loud.

He strokes himself on your clit, rubbing with his cock, goading needy little moans out of you. You feel like crying when his tip finally stretches your hole. You’re loud enough that Jude has to silence you with his lips as he fully fits the head of his cock in. He catches your whimper in his open mouth, gasping together when he places you higher on the wall, pushing deeper. You’re tight with the lack of prepping, but you’re wet. So deliciously wet. Taking him in like butter on a hot knife. He presses his face against your neck, grunting and breathing heavily. You’re left in an even more muddled state, spilling incoherencies, trying and failing to hold in your noises. You’ve completely given up on the silence, fuck it.

A grip on your face stills you, it’s then when you recognize the familiar callous hand covering your mouth–your noises. You don’t have enough time to tell him off, you couldn’t if you tried. His eyes burn on your skin, the warmth in your neck gone, you feel the tightness of his muscles in every buck of his hips, slapping against your skin. His stare is heavy on you– that alone flushes your cheeks. You push his hand away, instead tucking your head in his neck to muffle yourself , holding on for dear life while he thrusts faster and faster still.

  Your alternative catches your noises, poorly at that. Your eyes are shut, meeting his movements as you focus on the heat building in your stomach. He’s driving into your pussy like he’s trying to fuck you into the wall. Each word that tries to escape is garbled in your pipes, strangled and aching for release.

“You gonna come? Already?” He mocks you. “Come on, let me see my dumb girl.” Your grip softens around him, Jude maneuvers your face with his hand before fixing his palm to rest on your throat like he does although now looser. “What a mess…” You’re close, he can tell. Your stomach tenses, clenching onto him as if you’re dreading the second that he’ll pull out. He laughs, unsure of why but he tightens his grip, one that’s become so familiar on your neck that it’s grounding. The lack of air and the heaping pleasure turns your brain into a puddle, everything around you clouds, your own voice and the muffled music louder than it was, bouncing off the walls.

It’s when you open your eyes that your stomach drops, it’s a second that slips as soon as it passes. Your legs shake, thighs tensing around Jude. The same eyes you spent looking at the entire night stares back at you, wide and struck. Erling stands there, tense in his spot, taller than the space between the open door, music leaks in, almost blending with your high moans but the sound bleeds into his brain. He can’t describe what he felt strongest; jealousy, shock, or the tightness in his slacks. For now he swallows his own spit, the picture of your writhing body ingraining itself in every memory he has of you. Ruined. You’re completely ruined.

“Oh my–Erling–”

Jude smirks, “No, It’s Jude.” He teased, loud enough that all three of you could hear.

“N–no, I mean– It’s– Fuck. Oh god!”

“Yeah, that one works too.” It’s embarrassing how slippery you are inside, Jude rocking in and out of you like a piston with the stamina of an athlete.

Erling’s planted on the floor, it feels like he’s holding in a breath that’s stuck in his lungs. He should look away, but he can’t.

“Go ahead,” He whispers between thrusts, holding you against the wall. This time his words are close, only for you to hear. You have no choice, unable to utter a word, gasping, forced to take it. “Come for me while you look at him.”

It’s pathetic how you follow, eyes fixed towards the door when your orgasm crests in an explosion that leaves you shaking and trembling, legs wrapping tighter around Jude’s waist. Ultimately, you fail the task at hand, eyes nearly rolling back when your mind goes blank, the sensation tingles all the way to your satin shoes, throbbing and pulsing. His grunts turn into gasps, nails digging into your thighs when he climbs his own high, finally spilling into you.

You recollect, breathing heavily against each other. The last thing you saw were a pair of icy blues. As soon as you pick your head up from Jude’s neck, they’re gone.

[applejuicefruit]

erling Haaland just loves the readers boobs, always wants to sleep on them, suck them, motor boat, titty fuck

Me, as a person with big 🍒 I say yes to this!

tw : smut, you must be 18+ to read this!

Erling Haaland x reader

Cherries

Growing up you always felt insecure about your body. You’ve always seen petite girls with small boobs and a flat chest and you were so jealous you couldn’t have that. You were too young to understand but boys used to call you a whore just because you had more boobs than your friends. They used to make not so funny jokes that always made you uncomfortable and self conscious about your look.

But when you met Erling everything changed. He was so in love with you, all of you. Your mind, your personality, your kindness, your energy, your look, your body, your eyes, your boobs. Especially your boobs.

He always told you how much he loved your chest, his personal cherries as he would say. He helped you gaining your confidence back, especially when you were naked, knowing that having big natural boobs meant also that they were heavy and they weren’t stuck in position as they were supposed to and you always felt so insecure about that. But he simply loves them.

He taught you so many things. About your breast. Taught you how to valorise them when you dress, taught you how to take care of them when you were on your period, taught you how you could pleasure him using only your boobs and how he could pleasure you with just his hands on them.

One night after training he couldn’t wait to go back home and spend all evening with his head on your chest.

“Hello my love” he said once he opened the door.

“Hi baby” you said from the couch. You were currently wrapped up in a fluffy blanket and you were watching some crime documentary on netflix.

He sat next to you in just two seconds.

You already knew what he wanted but you loved teasing him a bit so you pretended to be clueless and continued watching the documentary.

After a few minutes he became more insufferable and all he wanted to do was having his face on your boobs.

“Babe…” he called you and you looked from the TV to him.

“What?” you asked him.

“You know what…please” he begged and you loved hearing him beg.

“You have to speak up baby…I can’t read minds” you joked a bit and that only irritated him more.

“Please…” he said turning off the documentary you were watching and throwing the remote on the other side of the room. His hands grabbed your hips and helped you laying down on the couch, in a more comfortable position.

He removed your t-shirt and bra in just two seconds and his huge hands went straight touching your boobs. You left a soft whisper, sign you were getting slight turned on.

“How I missed my cherries. My babies” he said while his hands continued massaging your breast, his fingers slowly touching your nipples just to tease you more.

He took his time, watching how your face was contoured by pleasure. Your eyes closed and your lips between your teeth.

He took your left nipple in his mouth, gently sucking and biting it. Your soft moans became a bit more louder.

After a minute he switched nipple, doing the same to your right one.

“Please baby…” you moaned.

“What?” he teased you and he knew how much you hated when he did it but he just couldn’t help it.

“Touch me…there” you told him and he smirked at you. Removing your leggings and underwear in just one swift move, his fingers brushed gently over your clit but you were already so sensitive that you couldn’t contain your moans.

His middle finger pressed gently against your clit while his lips were back on your boobs, biting, leaving marks and sucking every inch of skin he could find.

It didn’t took you too long for you to cum with a silent scream, tears on the corner of your eyes from the over sensitive pleasure and Erling who wouldn’t leave your nipples.

“Baby…too much” you told him and he looked at you with puppy eyes.

“Another one?” he asked you but you had no energy for an other orgasm.

“Tomorrow…I promise you…I’m too sensitive now…” you said softly and he gave you a reassuring smile.

“Okay baby let me help you…” he said while standing up and getting a warm washcloth from the bathroom and one of his hoodies that you loved.

He cleaned you and out some cream on your breast, admiring his work of art, your skin turning slightly purple, his teeth still present on your flesh and your nipples becoming more sensitive and red from every touch.

Once he was done he put his hoodie on you and let you rest on his chest.

It was his time to help you relax now.

He put a blanket around your bodies and, while he turned on the TV again you dozed off to sleep. He smiled looking at you thinking about how much lucky he had been for finding someone like you.

[fallinforerling]

the pinterest board - eh

A/N: this is so silly and stupid, i love it so much. i dunno why i thought about this, but my pinterest boards for erling are very specific, and yes, i do have a board for his short hair era. i still miss it. love you guys xx

ೃ⁀➷ erling’s masterlist 

ೃ⁀➷ erling's taglist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

It was unusually quiet around the house, and Erling wondered what could be causing that. There weren't many moments throughout the day where you weren’t doing some type of activity that caused noise. From playing music, to cooking or practicing your pronunciation in Norwegian, you were always making your presence known.

So when he finally arrived from practice, it felt odd to find a very silent living room, with no sight of you anywhere. He peeked through the kitchen door, hoping to find you with your headphones on, but it was as empty as the previous room. Then he thought that maybe you went out, but you rarely did that without giving him a heads up.  

So where were you?

“Baby?!” He shouted, still not getting any response. 

He was starting to get worried. While making his way to the bedroom, he got his phone to call you. Only when he reached the door, he realize he did heard your voice. And you were giggling. But it wasn’t your usual laugh; it sounded like the giggly laugh you made when he kissed you behind the ear or when you saw him shirtless. 

You were giggling because you liked whatever the hell was happening. 

Of course he wasn’t thinking about cheating or anything related to that matter, but something clicked in his brain. He made sure to open the door as quietly as possible, sticking his head just enough to see you resting flat on your stomach, seeming to scroll through your phone. 

Your smile was so big and mesmerizing that he took a moment to openly stare at you, finding your happiness contagious. It lasted a few seconds, because you giggled again and then he remembered wanting to find out what you were looking at.

“What are you doing?” He murmured, smiling when you visibly jumped on the spot. You turned and smiled at him, but your eyes were full of panic as one of your hands hid the phone deep into the pillows. 

“Babe! Hey, I didn’t see you there. How was practice?” You fixed your hair behind your ears, something that you only did when you were nervous. You were hiding something. And now he was determined to find out what. “Wanna have some dinner? I prepared that liver you like so much.” 

“Sure, sure. Thank you, honey.” He discarded his training bag on the floor, still standing at the door. “What were you watching?” The playful smile never left his face as he leaned on the doorframe, not letting you get out. 

“Me? Nothing—I was just, you know, checking out Pinterest. Typical stuff! Anyways, back to the liver? Pretty well seasoned, let’s go make it! My big guy needs to eat!” You let a nervous laugh out, hitting his arm with no actual force. You were so nervous, it was killing him. 

“I’m sorry, baby. Don’t hate me for what I’m about to do, okay?” 

You seemed confused for a few seconds, and that was enough for him to grab you by the waist and practically kick you out of the room. He made sure to quickly lock the door, making a little run to the bed to get your phone before it was too late. He could hear your muffled screams as you banged on the door, begging him to stop being so noisy. 

The problem was that the noisy monster he is today was created by you. 

Once he got a grab on your phone, he thanked every god available that it was still unlocked. As he stared at the screen, his mouth opened in a silent laugh as his thumb kept scrolling through the content. There were hundreds of photos of him at literally every stage of his career. Then, he noticed that you didn’t lie about the Pinterest thing. There were boards dedicated solely to him. Once he had finally seen it all, he opened the door, still laughing a bit as you stared at him with hatred. 

“Seriously, baby?” He still held your phone at his face level, so you weren’t able to reach it. “Short-haired Erling? There’s a specific board for that point of my life?” 

“Give me my phone back!” You said instead, taking it roughly from his hands. “And yes, I have a Pinterest board for photos of you with short hair, so what? You looked stunning.” You turned around, and started to walk towards the kitchen. 

“Hey! What’s wrong with my long hair?” He touched the man-bun he had going on hesitantly, following you. “You don’t like it?” 

Then it was your turn to laugh as you turned again to face him. 

“Of course I do.” 

“Oh, but you don’t love it.” He didn’t even know why it offended him so much. “You don’t like it enough to make a Pinterest board. huh? Are you trying to say that I don’t look stunning in it?” 

“Oh, c’mon! I didn’t say that!” 

“But you’re not denying it!” He was getting worked up for no apparent reason, but it was mortifying to think that his own girlfriend didn’t like his hairstyle. “That’s it— I’m chopping it off!” 

“Erling! It’s not that big of a deal! You do look stunning with long hair!” 

But he didn’t let go for at least another two hours. Dinner got forgotten as he went off about how you loved his past-self more than his current one. You had to make sure to create a new Pinterest board with recent photos of him in front of him, and just after that, he seemed convinced enough that you liked the long hair as much as his short hair phase. 

Talk about unnecessary drama queens.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * ERLING’S TAGLIST

@questionable-behaviour | @koufaxx | @xjval | @nikki01234 | @evarasworld | @kynykyny | @alleyahah | @444pantheress | @football4life9 | @f1lover55 | @frankcastleonlyfans | @ironmaiden1313 | @pizzapie349 | @may-machin

[riahollywood]

angsty argument with erling? 🥺

sorry looks like I’m incapable of writing angst without a fluffy ending 🫶

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

“maybe if you had actually bothered to support your boyfriend for once, this wouldn’t have happened!” erling exclaimed, his voice getting louder and louder as the argument continued.

you scoffed at his emission. “well I’m sorry for not being your little lap dog and following you around 24/7! you know I do work an actual job, unlike most of the guys’ girlfriends?” you snapped back, not at all appreciating his comment.

“yeah, because it must be so tiring sitting at a desk all day.” erling rolled his eyes.

you shook your head, shocked at the words that were falling from his mouth. “you really are unbelievable, you know that?”

erling stepped forwards, towering over you. his usually bright eyes had darkened as he shouted at you for the first time ever in your relationship.

“i pay for everything, buy you everything you want and you can’t even turn up to one of my games?”

erling was right. he did pay for everything, he bought you everything you had ever wanted and more… but that was his decision. you had always offered to pay for things and insisted he didn’t buy you extravagant bags, clothes, shoes… but he chose to, and that was on him.

“that’s your choice, erling! I’m sorry you can’t seem to grasp the concept that normal people can get tired from jobs where they don’t get paid thousands of pounds a minute!” you shouted back, getting annoyed at his accusations.

he reached his hand up to run it thought his hair but as it glided just a few cm’s away from your face, you flinched, immediately turning your head and stepping back from erling. from the man who had been nothing but a total sweetheart to you throughout your relationship until today.

erling’s features immediately softened as he realised what had happened.

“oh, sweetheart.” he shook his head as the seriousness of the situation finally set in.

your eyes filled up with tears. of course deep down you knew he would never lay a hand on you, but the severity of the situation had got far too much, and him shouting at you had become overwhelming.

you looked down from his gaze and when he reached his hand out for you to grab, you took a few steps back in an instinct reaction.

“fuck, y/n, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” he spoke, voice cracking on the second sorry. you looked up and noticed his eyes were now gleaming in the low light.

erling felt awful, he was overtired and worn out from all the games and he had taken it out on the thing he loved the most, you.

“baby, you know I would never hurt you.” he pleaded. “you know that, don’t you?”

you had never seen him look so emotional. the bags under his eyes were prominent as he struggled to keep his emotions at bay.

“I know.” was all you could muster out as you wiped your tears away with your sleeve.

he reached a hand out to replace your with his and he wiped at your tears with his thumb before holding your face in his large hand.

“i’m sorry for shouting at you… i’m just so tired, it’s not your fault, I’m so sorry baby.” he babbled on, desperate to make things right.

you grabbed his other hand in yours and held it tightly, letting him know that you understood.

for the rest of the evening, erling was desperate to make it up to you, insisting you watched your favourite show and going out to get you your favourite snacks.

you were cuddled up to his chest with his hand stroking your hair, lulling you into a sleepy state. you had closed your eyes when when you heard him break the silence in the room.

“you know i didn’t mean any of that, right?” he asked, voice quiet as he continued to stroke your hair.

“i know.” you replied, nuzzling your head further into erling’s chest.

“really, i’m so proud of you, baby. i love showing off how intelligent my girlfriend is and i wouldn’t have it any other way.” he kissed the top of your head and you smiled, soon falling asleep and back to feeling safe as ever wrapped up in erling’s arms.

- - - - -

send me a request here!

[darlingjude]

you guys complaining about jude focusing on Real Madrid (the football club at which he currently plays !!) instead of showering Borussia Dortmund with love and affection 24/7 is crazy i’m sorry😭 turning this into a “oh he doesn’t care about bvb” or “he thinks he’s too big now” is absolutely insane and ur only adding to this arrogant narrative that the media is trying to create with him, which is what they’ve done with so many up and coming black players.

it’s so embarrassing to see cuz wdym “he didn’t post about reus leaving :((“ DID MARCO POST WHEN JUDE LEFT??? like yeah if jude was still at bvb and didn’t post that would be sketchy, but this boy is at a whole different club. i didn’t see u complaining when erling haaland didn’t post (maybe he did idk but i didn’t see anything from him). also considering that german media ran a whole “EVERYONE AT BORUSSIA DORTMUND HATED JUDE BELLINGHAM” agenda against the second he left then yeah maybe it’s wouldn’t be shocking if he didn’t want to talk about Dortmund publicly anymore.

he called gio his best friend the other day and u guys are acting like he threw all his ex teammates in the bin. he still interacts with them on social media, and considering they don’t post “i love you jude” every day idk why y’all expect him to do that for them. it’s so fucking weird, u guys need to learn to let black men be successful and stop trying to find the negativity in every innocent thing they do.

[melanieph321]

Erling Haaland x Reader - The Confession Part 1/2

I never thought that I'd find myself in this predicament. 😭 I'm actually quite embarrassed. But it's the gif that inspired me to write this fic so thank you @ruben-dias, for posting it.

Part 2

Summary - Erling has had a crush on Reader for a long time, but Reader is clueless about it since she never thought a guy like him could like a girl like her. Nevertheless, the truth unfolds when Erling gives Reader a ride home after a lake party with their friends.

Enjoy!

Summer in Norway was cold. Sure the temperature in the air was warmer than in the winter. But there was no way that your friends could convince you to get in the water with them.

"Come on Y/N. It's not that bad. You just gotta get through the first chock. Your body will get used to the temperature once you're in the water."

"Yeah, no thank you." You said.

There was no such thing as a first chock where you came from. Where you came from the water was swimable right away. You were fine where you were, sitting on the bank of the lake, watching your friends splashing away.

At one point you had gone to lay down, basking in the warmth of the sun. When suddenly, a large shadow was casted over you, blocking the light.

"Hot dog?"

You removed you sunglasses and was forced to tilt your head all the way back to meet the height of, "Erling?"

His eyes squinted in the sun, hair dripping wet with lake water. In his hands he carried two hot dogs coated with ketchup and mustered. "This one's for you." He said, offering you a hot dog.

You eyed the ketchup coated piece of meat, trying not to grimarce at the stench of it. "Oh, that's very sweet of you Erling, really. But I don't eat meat."

"No?"

You shook your head. "No, sorry. It was very kind of you though."

You watch Erling pull back his offering, a slight dent between his brows. "Well, can I get you something else then?"

"Huh?" You had put your shades back on, preparing to lay down again. However, Erling still stood by your side, blocking the sun.

"Can I get you something else?" He shrugged. "Maybe something to drink?"

"I don't drink."

"Not even water?" He frowned.

"What, no. I do."

"You do. Great! Water it is."

"Erling, no." You stopped him from retrieving a bottle of water from the cooler. You didn't mean to come off as rude as you did. However, water dripping from Erling's hair was dampening your towel.

"Not water? How about a soda?"

"No, Erling." You sighed. "What I was meant to say is that I'm not thristy or hungry at all. So please keep your hot dogs and leave me alone."

Erling's expression faded, like a puppy dog denied of a treat. "Right, sure." He nodded. "I'll leave you alone."

"Thank you."

You fell back onto your towel, hearing how Erling's footsteps made their way back to the lake, to the others. You wouldn't have made much of your encounter if it hadn't been for your friend, Nicole, pulling you aside at the end of the day, while everyone else helped carry things back to the cars.

"What have you done to Erling?" She asked.

"Pardon?"

"Don't act dumb Y/N. I saw the two of you talking on the beach earlier. What did you say to him?"

"What do you mean?" You thought back to your brief and quite pointless conversation. What had been so sagnificant about it?

"Look at him." Nicole said, and nudge you in the direction were Erling was helping the others load things onto the cars. But unlike the others,  Erling wasn't loading things onto the cars, he was throwing them. It was impressive. How he carried an entire BBQ over his shoulders just to throw it onto the flat bed of your friend's car.

"Careful with that." You friend hissed, displeased with Erling who muttered to himself as he stomped away.

"Do you see now?" Nicole said.

"What, that Erling almost damaged Tim's dad's BBQ grill? Yeah, that was pretty foul of him."

"No, Y/N." Nicole groand. She put her hands on your shoulders, attempting to shake some sense into you. "Can't you see what mood Erling's has been in ever since the two of you talked?"

"So? What does that have to do with..."

"Because he likes you, Y/N. He really likes you and apparently you told him to leave you alone."

"I....what?" It was a little bit hard to comprehend, Erling Haaland, into you? Since when?"

"He's had a crush on you forever." Nicole explained. "But apparently everyone knows accept for you."

"Accept for me..." You mumbled, glancing towards Erling's. You saw the damage you had caused, how his usually contagious smile was totally wiped away, replaced by a deep frown that didn't really suit him.

"You should talk to him. Maybe apologize."

"Apologize?" You frowned. "But I didn't...."

"At least set things straight." Nicole nodded. "If you don't like him back at least be honest about it, maybe then he can move on."

"Right. Move on." But how the hell would you do that?

Part 2

[femme4ngel]

can you pleaseee do a story about haaland being insecure about something while looking at himself in the mirror and y/n enters the room and comforts him then they end up making out

i hv an exam tomorrow but this inspired me hope u like it <3

erling haaland x fem reader

it wasn’t like him to feel down at all. usually he felt full of power and confidence, he believed in himself and couldn’t care less about what others said about him. he was the strong, norwegian viking after all.

but today was different and you noticed it. he did poorly in the match and although city still won, he’s rating was low and his failed shots were posted all over the internet. you felt his sadness and disappointment, the way he walked out of the changing room, the way his usual bright smile faded away. he could take all the criticism about the way he played, he could take it when it was about his talent or the lack of it, but he couldn’t deal with criticism about his looks. you told him not to go on instagram, to not open comments but he couldn’t stop himself. he sat in the changing room for a good 30 minutes scrolling nonstop, every rude comment, every mean word about his face seeping into his mind. he suddenly felt small and uncomfortable in his own skin, and all he craved was your touch and kind words. you noticed immediately as he walked besides you on your way to the car, his fingers holding tightly onto yours, his golden hair laying on his shoulders, his eyes fixated on the floor. he needed soft touches and sweet words whispered into his ears, a hug and kisses all over his cheeks.

and you knew exactly how to make him feel better, how to make the sad pout disappear from his face.

- hey baby what about a bath when we get home? i got a new bathbomb yesterday, its strawberry and vanilla scented. - you look over at him in the car, his eyes are sad and his fingers viciously gripping the wheel but he seems to like your idea a lot, his face lighting up, his cheeks blushing.

you took baths together whenever either of you was feeling down, the bubbles, the relaxation of the warm water and the closeness of your bodies cheering you up instantly. so as soon as you get home you tell him to go and get out of his clothes and wait for a little in the bedroom while you start the bath and collect all the stuff you want to put into it. you eventually gather all of your things, and with the bathbombs and gels in your hand return to the bedroom. you find your boyfriend staring at himself in the mirror, theres a frustrated look spreading across his beautiful features, his eyebrows are furrowed. he looks like he might start crying and you feel your heart breaking by the sight. you walk up to him, hugging him from behind, your smaller frame disappearing into his. your fingers are running up and down on his torso, caressing his skin, drawing circles on his waist. your cheek is resting against his back, hes warm and he smells like him. like erling, like soap and grass and his lingering parfume. you want him to know how beautiful he is, how his touch lights your skin up, how his eyes mesmerize you, how it feels to call him yours.

- can we take the bath and then watch a dumb movie? im so tired, im sorry..- he asks, theres some shame in his voice as he stares at his reflection.

- of course baby, lets go, i think the water is already perfect.- you grab his hand as you guide him to the bathroom, holding him close and tight, wanting to show him how beautiful he truly is.