#descarada!!!

[fangirleaconmigo]

Modern AU where Jaskier posts all of his song to youtube. He doesn't have very many hits so he doesn't think much about taking them all off one day when he is rethinking his social media strategy.

He is shocked when his handsome but introverted neighbor (Geralt is his name) calls him at one am panicking. (The man has never even used his number. Jaskier came up with some painfully transparent excuse about a neighborhood watch just to get him to take it.)

Geralt's daughter Ciri has woken up with a nightmare and apparently the only thing that gets her to sleep is Jaskier's singing. However, Geralt is panicking because can't find his videos. He rambles about not being able to find them anywhere and he feels stupid, bad at social media, he shouldn't have called, etc.

Jaskier is intrigued. "I didn't even know you knew about my music."

"You mention it every time I see you in the hall."

"Oh, you are unbearably blunt. Touche, touche. In my defense, I didn't know you listened when I rambled on."

"I do." His neighbor sounds affronted.

"Alright then."

"Is that a yes? You'll sing to her?"

Jaskier isn't done questioning him. "You really play her my music?"

*Pause*

"She hears your music."

"How."

"I might listen to your music at night. To wind down. She just overhears. She's gotten used to it."

Jaskier feels quite smug. "Well alright. Anything for my fans. Put the little one on."

Geralt rolls his eyes but smiles and puts the phone on speaker. Ciri shrieks with delight to hear Jaskier's voice. After she falls asleep, Geralt sneaks out of her room whispering a thank you.

"You know," Jaskier says playfully. "My voice is better live. I could come over sometimes to sing you lullabies in person."

Geralt is glad you can't hear a blush over the phone.

"Yes. Ok."

"Yes?" Jaskier crows.

"Yes. I'd like that."

--fin

Inspiration

[bambinamoon]

Tan descarada soy, que me siento a tu lado aún sabiendo que no me soportas.

BambinaMoon

[rosecrystal]

who remembers her…

[malefashiontrends]

(vía Francisco Marques posa en una visión del street-style para el lente de Jonathan Martin)

[isadoras]

      ˏˋ 𓂃  @vekemvns​​  𝐞𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐨́  #SALA COMÚN.  

“sabes, ahora que te veo con zapatos━” suelta nada más encontrarse con la rubia en la sala común de crimson, sin atisbarse en ella una pisca de vergüenza por lo ocurrido entre las dos. “pienso: si bajaba un poco, me daba cuenta que estabas descalza y habría sabido que eras tú...” palabras salen a borbotones en lo que se siente junto a ella. “y eso no me hubiera detenido.”

[skezzzoutofservice]

heyy guys y'all should follow me in bluesky heh yea cuz I'm so cool and yeh heh he.ehe teehe :3

[elaprendizdecinico]

La madre del chico de la película se lo vendió a su padre por un apartamento, un simple trueque, el le cedió los derechos sobre el apartamento y ella al tiempo le entrego el hijo, el tipo se llevó al hijo y nunca lo regresó, pero ella nunca puso un denuncia, ella no fué a fiscalía, no hay documentos que prueben tal cosa, mayor prueba era el el hecho de que el tipo no tenía denuncia, ni auto de detención, no orden de captura, nada de eso. Se corrobora el trueque, allí, en el apartamento, vivió con su hija vaginal (hija querida), lo vendió y compro en otro lugar, siempre con la hija vaginal .... Mientras tanto el hijo anal, les lleno de traumas, se crió en una soledad terrible, sigue viviendo, pero ya nada lo conforma, todo es amargura, con nada es feliz .... Maldice más bien toda la mala suerte. MALDITO DIA DE LAS MALAS MADRES

[pirulesenvinagre]

Ahí ahi, con un diente de ajo en primer plano ¿Que va a ser lo siguiente, una estaca estofada? ¿cruces al horno?

[adribosch-fan]

Javier Milei y la descarada campaña de manipulación de los 'ultraperiodistas'

Una campaña que deja en evidencia el sesgo ideológico de muchos medios Vosotros sois muy jóvenes, pero hubo un tiempo en el que en la política había derecha e izquierda. Hoy sólo hay izquierda y ultraderecha. La victoria de Milei en Argentina y los titulares que deberían avergonzar a ciertos medios Los medios que han etiquetado a Milei como ‘ultraderecha’ La idea de que el mapa político ha…

[fangirleaconmigo]

Geralt x Jaskier Geraskier First kiss, friends to lovers

Geraskier Dancing

When Geralt of Rivia was a child, he begged Vesemir to teach him the kind of dances they performed at court. The answer was always no, but he kept trying.

After the trials, when Vesemir seemed so affected by his eyes, Geralt would widen them and look up at his tutor, pleading.

After all, Geralt thought, what if he rescued a fair maiden, and she demanded that he accompany her to a party? Perhaps she would drag him, giggling and flushed, onto the dance floor. He would be her noble savior, and she would be his grateful maiden.

He didn’t tell Vesemir his reasoning of course. He said that it might be important for royal courts, with kings in them. Wouldn’t it be best if he could fit in? Fencing was similar to dance, so surely Vesemir could handle teaching it.

Vesemir sighed and gave him the same speech he always gave.

"Geralt. You are not training to be a knight. Put that out of your mind. You are a professional. A working man.

Further, you are a mutant now. You will not be greeted with gratitude. You will be lucky to be greeted with the cash that you are promised."

Geralt felt stubborn. Furious. But he knew when to drop the subject.

Vesemir would pat his shoulder and offer him a sweet bread. His eyes always held regret.

Geralt understood him now. After years of hard lessons, he understood. When he thought back on his youth, he felt like a dolt.

The women he saved were traumatized. He was meeting them during the most terrified, violent moments of their lives. They screamed, bled, and threw up. And they all ran. With his bloody sword and ashen skin, he looked little different from the monsters he fought.

At least to them.

And yet?

He still learned how to dance, despite having given up the dream.

It started with Jaskier of course, like most misadventures and novel undertakings. The young bard had just shown up in his life one day and sort of just...never left.

His enthusiasm, energy, and optimism infected Geralt's life, as did the handsome twinkle in his eyes.

One night, after several glasses of wine they shared their most ridiculous childhood dreams. Jaskier admitted that he wanted to publicly rub his success in his family's face, to make their rejection sting less. So Geralt admitted that he'd always stupidly wanted to woo a grateful damsel on a dance floor.

He thought they were just talking nonsense, so he was startled when suddenly, Jaskier was on his feet, woozy and holding out a hand.

"C'mon. Lesgo." Jaskier jerked his curly, disheveled head towards an empty spot on the tavern large enough maybe for one large man.

Geralt refused at first. It was silly. Besides, They were both men. Who would lead?

But Jaskier simply grabbed his hand. When they touched, Geralt found that all of his resistance dissipated like a magic spell. He found himself standing and allowing himself to be dragged. And after they moved a few tables, he found himself touching the small of Jaskier's back and swaying with him.

Why didn't it feel odd? It should have felt odd.

It probably felt fine because they were alone.

They always danced alone.

They would be in a bar that was emptying out, the last drunkards stumbling home. Jaskier would be inviting, leaning against him, words slightly slurring.

Geralt selfishly loved him like that, not because Jaskier would lose his inhibitions, but because Geralt would. Plausible deniability.

"No one is here, Geralt. You won't ruin your fearsome rep--rep--pox on it. People won't see you." Jaskier waved dismissively as he dragged him.

The bard's lips grew pinker when he drank, and his cheeks flushed when they danced.

So Geralt let himself be led into the middle of empty bars, dance halls, and sometimes even just under the stars near a campfire.

"Y'need this for" *hiccup* "d'plomacy." Jaskier tugged him this way and that.

Despite the slurring, Jaskier always moved gracefully, like a swan. He'd sing to himself, lost in the music, touching Geralt with surety, guiding him. His body would be warm and little puffs of his wine soaked breath would drift towards Geralt. The witcher would inhale and try to control the surge of something primal in him awakening from a terribly long slumber.

Jaskier always led.

"I thought you were teaching me to dance with ladies," Geralt complained playfully one night. Jaskier was leading him in a lazy circle under some street lanterns on an abandoned street. Trash and litter was everywhere, left over from the spring festival. Their feet crunched on discarded candy wrappers as they moved.

"I am," Jaskier huffed indignantly, eyes hazy. "You must charm these noble ladies. It's not easy, you know. You must practice."

Geralt bit the side of his mouth trying not to smile. He didn't want to ruin the moment. He was so close to Jaskier, the closest he ever got to stand. "But I'm not learning to lead."

"Oh, s'fine. You'll just," Jaskier gestured, twirling his hand in a circle, "turn it all round." Then it was a rolling motion. "Flip it. Change it backwards. You know what I mean. They'll love it."

It was quiet for a moment, Geralt turned his head and crept closer, so he could secretly smile to himself.

"You already complain they simper around me," he murmured near his friend's ear. "You want to make it worse?"

Jaskier snorted loudly. "They're just trying to get to me, Geralt, you know that. Price of fame!!"

Then he spun Geralt, and all the while, Geralt grumbled, purposely moving stubbornly. "I don't twirl, Jaskier."

Jaskier was wobbly and dismissive. "Y'doing great."

Geralt really did learn during those nights. But they never spoke of it in the morning. Those nights were sacred and untouchable lest they shattered in the light of day.

But one day, they finally, truly paid off.

Geralt wanted to run and tell Vesemir. He'd been right. He had needed to learn the skill after all.

Because one spring day he rescued a beautiful young woman, and she was grateful. She was lovely, truly. Her auburn hair cascaded down her back, caressing her delicate waist.

She had been menaced by a werewolf and run screaming into Geralt's arms, invitation to a ball at the ready. It was just like in his youthful dreams.

The werewolf wasn't such a bad guy to be honest. His name was Gil. And he wasn't so much menacing her as he was trying to say hello and simultaneously coughing. But it was an unpleasant sound to be sure. It was a hacking cough.

Geralt had intervened, having been sent there on an errand by Jaskier. The witcher took Gil aside to speak to him. The werewolf was moving on, anyway. He'd just come to see a picnic of beautiful women that Jaskier had told him about, thinking he would say hello.

Geralt wanted to shake Jaskier. Gently of course. To tell his friend that yes, he had needed help with dancing, but certainly did not need help with finding ladies to rescue. They were lying about everywhere there were monsters. Jaskier wasn't around though, he was nervously flitting around at fittings and lute tunings, preparing anxiously for the dance.

It was silly of course.

And to be honest, the young woman hadn't needed much rescuing. Gil's nose was still sore where she had hit him with her bag.

But nonetheless, when she'd seen Geralt she'd sighed and pretended to be quite helpless.

Geralt carried her to safety on Roach, and she had invited him to a dance that night. They were in Lettenhove, and the dance would be packed with nobles. It was the perfect setup.

Geralt got ready with trembling fingers. He laced on his best armor and slicked down his hair. His stomach was weak just to think of it.

When Geralt arrived, the maiden was there in a stunning gown. She arrived breathlessly, ready for her dance. She batted her eyes and curtseyed.

Geralt bowed slightly, and led her onto the dance floor. After a few moments, her raptured attention began to cool. She was well educated and polite, but Geralt caught her regretful glances towards the handsome young nobles in the corner.

He didn't blame her. He was not a small man, and he was stepping on her toes.

The bloom was very quickly off the rose for the young maiden.

"I'm sorry. My mistake." Geralt muttered at every wrong turn.

If you had asked Geralt as a child, whether the disappointment of a maiden would sting, he would have imagined so.

But it didn't. This was not what he had come for. This was not why his stomach had done somersaults as he had laced on his armor. It was because this party was not just packed with nobles, but very particular nobles from a very specific family.

Geralt glanced up to find him.

Jaskier stood off to the side, close by, clutching a glass of wine, and staring daggers at his cousin across the room. His cousin was a handsome man, if you went in for that kind of thing, though not as handsome as Jaskier. But he was holding court with several ladies.

Geralt excused himself with the relieved young lady who tried to look as though she were not fleeing.

Geralt came up behind Jaskier, and touched his back.

Jaskier did not jump or startle. He must have known Geralt's touch and scent by now. He simply turned and smiled.

"You're here!" Jaskier looked behind him. "And Juliet?"

Geralt shrugged. "I never actually learned to lead."

Jaskier's face fell. "I'm sorry, I-" he looked mortified, "-I don't actually know how to teach dance. I only know how to dance. I was just-"

Geralt cut him off by pulling him into his arms with an 'oof'.

Jaskier startled, leaning eagerly into the embrace. But then he remembered himself and looked around cautiously.

"I don't care if they see," Geralt whispered. "I want them to. Let the miserable bastards gossip until their throats are sore."

The widest, brightest grin he had ever seen blossomed on his handsome bard's face. "Well then." Jaskier straightened his shoulders and cleared a catch in his throat. Let me do this properly."

The bard gently detangled himself from Geralt's arms. Then he bowed at the waist and held out a hand. "Geralt of Rivia? May I have this dance?"

Geralt nodded and straightened his jacket. "You may, Viscount Julian of Lettenhove."

Jaskier held his hand with both of his, but he shook his head and whispered. "No. Viscount Julian is theirs. I am Jaskier. I am yours."

Geralt's heart melted. He did not know how to cope with that, so he just nodded.

The music fell silent, and a new song began.

The witcher and the bard were the first couple out on the floor. It may have started as a way to help Jaskier rub his success in his family's eyes. But almost instantly they forgot all about that. They lost themselves in the movement, the laughter, they only saw each other.

But Jaskier's family saw. His mother. His father. His envious cousins. They all saw that he was loved. That he was talented, famous, and loved.

Geralt didn't think a whole lot about Vesemir that night.

He simply danced. And when the last note on the last song died out, he touched Jaskier's chin. His love's eyes lit up with hope. Geralt didn't want to draw out the suspense, so he pulled him in for a kiss. It was tender and they were sweaty, their hearts beating in their chests.

It felt right. And not because they were alone. It was because they loved each other.

When Geralt visited Vesemir during the winter, he brought up his childhood dream. He would tell the old witcher that he understood now.

Love wasn't something you earned through daring acts. It wasn't something you extracted from terrified women as the price for their safety.

Love was a bard who tried his damndest to fulfill your dreams at the expense of his own.

Love was taking him in your arms and fulfilling his.

Well, Geralt tried to say all that. Perhaps it didn't come out the way he meant. Perhaps he stumbled over his words and grunted some.

But when he pulled Jaskier into the room to introduce him to Vesemir, the old witcher understood.

[virtuallghosts]

Tá sentadinha com as pernas cruzadas.

— De uma desgraça dessa a gente só pode rir mesmo.

[fangirleaconmigo]

Ok I’m taking the first one for Geraskier.

“You’re lying on the floor of the movie theater crying, and I’m the employee who has to tell you another movie starts in five minutes so you have to leave and I'm really sorry but I'm also confused why as to why a documentary on lightbugs affected you so much AU"

The man was lying on the ground with his limbs splayed out into the aisle. Geralt could hear his soft sobs as he crept towards him.

He cleared his throat, looming over him. "Is everything...alright? Are you injured? Do you need help?"

Geralt's eyes were fully adjusted to the dark, so he saw the man shake his head. He was young, probably in his twenties.

"No, I'm not alright. I am emotionally devastated."

There was a little slur in his voice, indicating that perhaps he had taken advantage of the half price wine bottle specials.

Geralt knelt, and used his flashlight to gently and awkwardly pat the man on the shoulder. "There, there."

The man rubbed his eyes. "Thank you, kind stranger."

Geralt had to get him out within five minutes, but if the man had just gotten news of a death or something tragic, he didn't want to be a dick about it.

"Did something happen?"

The man sobbed softly again. "Yes! A movie! That you showed me! You did this to me!" He rolled onto his side, then as though the movement offended him, he flopped back onto his back.

Geralt knew that the documentary on fireflies played in this theater, but for a moment he doubted his own sanity. Maybe it was that tearjerker where the beloved pet died at the end. Maybe he had gotten it confused.

"Was it....the...fireflies??"

"Yes!" cried the man. "Obviously!"

Geralt sat back on his haunches and thought for a moment. "What is so sad about that one?"

The man made an incomprehensible sound of frustration. "Are you serious!?"

"Well. Yes. But you should sit up and tell me. The carpet is filthy."

The man reluctantly pulled himself up to sit. Geralt was one stair lower than him and he peered up at him.

"You have popcorn in your hair."

The man ignored that. "They are so trusting!"

"The fireflies?"

"Yes!!" The man's hands flew out, making expressive loops in the air. "The fireflies!"

"And this is...a problem?"

"Yes!! People trap them! They put them in jars to perform for their benefit. They take their freedom! They even let them die like that! Abandoned and suffocated in a fucking jar."

Geralt shook his head. He hadn't thought about that. "Tough way to go."

"Exactly! And yet they still alight on our fingers and just sit there comfortably for ages. They share their light! Their miraculous light! With us shitty humans. They're entirely too trusting. And small. And defenseless. And it isn't fair!"

Geralt thought about it some more.

"You know, they aren't entirely defenseless."

The man rubbed his nose. "No?"

"No. Did you know? Their bodies contain steroid pyrones, which is a poison. And they are bioluminescent, which is basically a warning signal to predators. They are actually pretty badass little creatures. Maybe they sit on our fingers because they like taking chances. They like taking risks. Or. Or, maybe the time they spend on the fingers of people they like is worth the risk that some people will harm them."

Geralt had said too much. He would have felt foolish, but this other man was obviously, far more foolish than he was. There was something incredibly liberating about that.

The man hiccuped. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

Geralt nodded and stood, offering his hand. The man took his hand and pulled himself up. This close, Geralt could see that the man was arrestingly handsome. He was a hot mess. But he was hot.

"I'm sorry, but I have to let the next group in."

"Yes of course. Thank you---what's your name?"

"Geralt."

"Jaskier. Pleasure to meet you. You have been so kind. I supposed I'm taking this breakup a bit harder than I wanted to admit."

He squeezed Geralt's hand gratefully. Geralt felt warmth trickling into his stomach.

"We have coffee at the bar outside. Maybe it's time for a cup."

Jaskier smiled brilliantly, despite the tear streaks on his face, and the popcorn clinging tenaciously to his hair. "I'd love that, Geralt. You are my knight in shining armor tonight."

Geralt felt himself grow pink. It was a good thing the theater was dark.

He led Jaskier out of the dark theater to the bar, and didn't let go of Jaskier's hand, not even when they passed the waiting patrons in the hall.

They ended up talking all night. It seemed quite clear to Geralt that this Valdo Marx had never deserved Jaskier in the first place. It didn't sound like love to begin with. He sent Jaskier home with his phone number, in case he ever needed to talk again.

He didn't hear from Jaskier for a few weeks, and thought that might have been it. That should have been fine, but Geralt couldn't stop thinking about him.

When the documentary left the theater, and a new one came in, this one about whales, he thought it was time to let go of hope.

But on opening night, when he was working the till, an arrestingly handsome man made an appearance at his window.

"Hello Geralt."

His heart thudded. He was even more gorgeous than he remembered.

"Hello Jaskier."

"I know they say that you never get a second chance at a first impression, but I'd really like to try it anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'd like to prove to you that I'm not always a hot mess, only on occasion. And I'd like to try dating someone who is actually incredibly kind and is the sort of man who is patient with a bawling mess of a man rambling about fireflies."

Geralt nodded, and felt himself grin. "Yes. Ok."

"Yes?" Jaskier's eyes lit up.

"Yes."

"Then let's watch the whale documentary. I love it when you tell me facts about animals."

Geralt nodded. He printed out the tickets, and stood up to hand them to Jaskier. Instead of taking the tickets, Jaskier took his hand, pulled him close, and he kissed him.

It was their first date of many. Sometimes they even did things other than watch documentaries.

modern AU geraskier. jaskier is a part time musician part time 3-other-jobs mostly holding his own in a high up crappy apartment, geralt is a witcher who is down on his luck and really needed a nap

[malefashiontrends]

(vía Francisco Marques posa en una visión del street-style para el lente de Jonathan Martin)

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚂𝙴𝙲𝚁𝙴𝚃𝚂

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴

description: ona was finally where she had dreamed, she was back at barcelona with her best friend and loving every moment. only problem? she's dating her captain's younger sister, you.

And now, Alexia knows...

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ona batlle x putellas!reader

part one here

part two here

part three of the 'hidden' universe - ona's version

mapi leon x bronze!reader here

disclaimer: this is all fiction do not take any of this seriously !

warnings: swear words - smut - no under 18's - reader giving! reader fingering (like slightly) reader eating Ona out, cunnilingus, fluff, and a shorter ending :) Oh also google translating to Spanish so apologies in advance xx

SMUT AT BEGINNING

MINORS DNI

18+

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y/n squeaked as two hands squeezed at her waist, her mind having been completely focussed on making the pancakes she was baking perfect.

"Bon dia, carinyo." Ona hummed softly.

Good morning baby.

y/n smiled as the girl pressed multiple kisses against her cheek, the sweetness making the actress laugh as she shook the girl off slightly so she could focus on not burning the pancakes.

"Fa olor meravellosa." Ona whispered and y/n chuckled.

Smells amazing beautiful

"Blueberry and banana pancakes. Just how you like." y/n promises, and a wide smile breaks out on Ona's face.

Ona takes the plate off y/n, a soft kiss being pressed on y/n's cheek in thanks as Ona moves to the fridge, instantly grabbing some smoothies which were in there and setting them out on the table.

Ona watched as y/n hummed to herself as she tidied the dirty pan into the dishwasher, a soft smile on her face as she grabbed her own plate and the whipped cream which she had bought.

"Tú y esa crema batida." Ona says with a chuckle.

You and that whipped cream.

y/n giggled at Ona sticking her tongue out at her, her eyes sparkling as she watched the footballer with nothing but pure admiration as they shared a soft smile.

"¡Me gusta!" y/n defends herself.

I like it!

y/n then squirts a large swirl of the cream on her pancakes, before squirting another small bit toward Ona who shrieks and curses out at y/n who laughs.

"¿Qué haré contigo mi niña descarada?" Ona asks lowly, her voice suddenly shifting to a more gravelly pitch.

What will I do with you my cheeky girl?

y/n can't help the way her stomach swirls with the way Ona's voice had dropped and her flirty smile had grown.

"Todo lo que quieras, mi amor." y/n says, her voice silky and low - combatting Ona's flirt.

Anything you want, my love.

y/n smiles when Ona gulps, trying to contain her emotion as she took a bite of her pancakes, shaking her fork at y/n as the girl chuckled.

"Te amo." Ona says softly.

I love you.

y/n grinned leaning over and pressing a kiss against Ona's lips making the girl hum lovingly.

"Yo también te amo, Oni." y/n promises and the two share a smile.

I love you too, Oni.

The two finished in silence, Ona taking the plates to the sink to wash them, where y/n stood wrapped around her from behind.

"¿Cómo te sientes al contarles?" y/n asks her as Ona turns in her arms to face her.

How are you feeling about telling them?

"Orgulloso. Esa mi niña, es la más guapa." Ona says, pressing a soft kiss to y/n's cheek.

Proud. That my girl, is the most gorgeous one.

"Flirt." y/n chuckles, knowing she was feeling the same as she mentally tracked Ona's freckled nose in her head. Trying to commit the patterned spots to memory.

Ona leans forward, connecting their lips softly so y/n can take the lead, sucking the footballer's tongue into her mouth and pushing her up and onto the counter top.

y/n made quick work of sliding her underwear off and away, throwing it somewhere behind her, which she planned to worry about another time.

The two's mouths continued to dance together while y/n did this, tongues intertwining, Ona's hands nestled tightly in y/n's hair, her grip tensing further when y/n's hand drifted up her tanned thighs.

y/n watched, a glint in her eye as Ona's head tipped back, her chest stuttering at y/n's pawing hers which squeezed the inside of her thighs, growing higher, before sliding back down to her knees.

y/n's lips ran a path down Ona's neck, wanting to so desperately to nip at the skin there, but knowing that her sister would find that too far.

So y/n settled for licking a stripe back up Ona's neck, making her gasp before sinking her teeth into the top of Ona's ear, the woman moaning at the action.

"Qué ruidos tan bonitos. Que chica tan bonita. Todo mío." y/n said into Ona's ear, the brunette nodding along.

Such pretty noises. Such a pretty girl. All mine.

y/n's hands squeezed at the top of her thighs, the grip almost bruising as her thumbs ran down the soft skin. y/n's hands stroked, her finger tips stroking just across Ona's cunt.

"Por favor. Bebé por favor." Ona begged softly, the words falling from her lips in a breathless whisper.

Please. Baby Please.

y/n's hand found her chest, pushing the girl back to lay out on the counter and pulling her legs to the edge. y/n bent at her waits, reaching out behind to pull a stool for her to sit down on.

Her lips ghosted up Ona's thighs, relishing in the small gasps which came from her as she approached what was in such desperate need for attention.

y/n gave in, her tongue licking a stripe inbetween Ona's lips which made the girl cry out in shock and buck her hips. The wetness which sat there smeared across y/n's chin as she dove in for more.

y/n's tongue flicked at Ona's clit, the girl ignoring the way her chin dripped in the woman as she did so, the only thing on her mind were the pretty noises falling from Ona's lips.

The begs, pleads, moans which echoed the room as y/n sucked the clit into her mouth, letting it go with a satisfying pop.

y/n moved her tongue down, dipping slightly into Ona's hole, which caused the woman to let out a soft moan, before y/n brought her finger up, and slowly inserted it.

y/n's tongue moved back up to Ona's clit, knowing how much the woman enjoyed the stimulation when y/n used her tongue, and she just curled her finger ever so slightly back and forth.

"Yes, yes." Ona called in relief, the knot in her stomach getting tighter as her abs pushed through the light white t-shirt she wore.

y/n sped her tongue up, ignoring the slight ache she was feeling in the back of her jaw as she chased what she so desperately wanted, Ona's orgasm.

The footballer's thighs tightened around her head, and y/n pushed her finger in deeper, sucking Ona's clit into her mouth harshly as the woman came with a shout of relief.

She always tasted slightly sweet Ona, y/n had always assumed due to her diet, and her cum was a pure additive to y/n who stayed there, cleaning what she could with her tongue from her finger and Ona's cunt.

"Por favor no, demasiado sensible." Ona begged, y/n giving in and pulling away.

Please no, too sensitive.

Ona calmed, sitting up and letting out a breath as she slid down and wrapped herself around y/n, pressing a kiss to her head in thanks.

"Nosotras vamos a tener que limpiar el mostrador." y/n says softly.

we're so going to have to clean the counter.

Ona laughed at that, looking down at y/n from her lap, before leaning down and connecting their lips again.

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y/n hummed along to the radio which played as she pulled up to the Spanish team's training, her car rolling to a stop as she switched it off, the silence now pounding in her ears as she slid out of the car.

It was once again a beautiful day in Spain, y/n once again wearing a sundress, with cycling shorts underneath, because she had a habit of falling over.

y/n slowly strolled into the training ground, the staff letting her in without a fight as she flashed her lanyard.

y/n ran her hand along the wall, chuckling when the booming voice of her sister echoed from the pitch, the sound of Alexia calling a drinks break makes y/n jog out of the tunnel and into the pitch.

"Y/N!" A scream shouts and suddenly Aitana Bonmati is wrapping herself around y/n who chuckles and hugs the woman.

"Tani!" y/n cheers.

"Estoy tan emocionada de verte!" Aitana says, y/n grinning.

I am so excited to see you!

"Los he extrañado mucho a todos." y/n smiles.

I've missed you all so much.

"Ayyy, Bebe Putellas." Jenni grins as the Spanish team all begin to greet the girl and hug her.

"We've missed you!" Aitana says and y/n chuckles.

"Missed you all, but I'll be screaming in the crowds when you all play this Nations League." y/n grins and they all cheer.

There is a five minute call from the coaching staff makes Alexia sigh and kiss her little sister's cheek.

"Will you stay?" Alexia asks and y/n nods making the girls cheer as they all hug her.

"Te amo." Ona says, leaning forward and pecking y/n on the lips.

I love you

"Te amo." y/n says to her. Jenni letting out a shriek of pure shock.

"¿Qué? ¿Qué? ¿Tú? ¿Qué?" Jenni asks, pointing at the two as the rest of the team watched them confused.

What? What? You? What?

"¿La amo?

I love her?

The entire team looked between the Ona and y/n, and then Ona and y/n and then finally, Alexia and y/n, Alexia and Ona. Their captain sighed.

"Sí, sabía que ella la amaba." Alexia promises.

Yes, I knew she loved her.

"Ahhhhh! Tan linda!" Aitana says as the group are called back.

So cute!

y/n giggles, relieved that everyone was finding her and Ona sweet and weren't worried about them causing any issues, Ona wrapped her arm around y/n waist and grinned.

y/n chuckled as she wrapped an arm around Ona's shoulders and pressed a kiss to her hair and the group coo'd once more, y/n rolled her eyes, shooing them back to training.

"She is a Putellas." Jenni jokes and y/n rolls her eyes as she shoves the woman away, pressing a last kiss to Ona's cheek, before going to sit down on the side lines.

Now all that was left was to tell the world. And y/n knew just how to do that.

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y/n just posted on her story x3

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y/n was a little nervous as she sat in the stands, her coat was still on her and she could hear the calls of her name by excited fans and the sound of constant camera snaps of her and Mapi sat together.

y/n sighed, her leg shaking as Mapi talked, trying to calm the girl down about outing hers and Ona's relationship. y/n was suddenly very nervous about people's reaction.

"¿Qué pasa si ellas piensan que no soy lo suficientemente bueno para ella?" y/n asks Mapi worriedly, the woman looking at her friend confused as she hugged her.

What happens if they think I am not good enough for her?

"¡Eres lo suficientemente bueno! ¡Deja de pensar demasiado niña!" Mapi promises y/n.

You are good enough! Stop overthinking girl!

y/n smiles at Mapi, nodding her head as the teams begin to walk out, Mapi and y/n stand up cheering and clapping for them and y/n drops her hoodie off her, the camera flashes instantly speeding up.

It was almost like a simultaneous gasp in the stadium as everyone suddenly stopped paying attention to the players. Everyone's eyes were glued to the screen filming y/n in a Batlle shirt.

Swedish and Spanish fans alike snapped photos and cheered excitedly as Ona grinned widely, her cheeks pink from all the phones directed at her.

Eventually things calm and the game begins, the harsh reality of football making y/n relieved she didn't follow her sister's footsteps as she watches Ona fall to the floor again.

y/n lets out an excited scream at the goal scored, her and Mapi jumping up and down excitedly as people once again film the woman cheering.

Finally half time rolls around and y/n can't help but sigh in relief at the fact there was a respite for the players who were now 1-1.

y/n and Mapi grabbed some drinks, and took some photos with fans before sitting back down and talking away the half time rest. Unaware of social media storming.

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twitter/X:

username1: Y/N ???????? ONA?????? AGHHHHHHHHHHH

username2: DID NOT EXPECT BABY PUTELLAS TO BE WEARING AN ONA SHIRT!!

username3: Dios mío, no puedo, pero ¿su hermana es la capitana?

Oh my god, I cannot! But her sister is the captain??

^

username4: ¡Lo sé! Me pregunto cómo reaccionó Alexia.

I know! I wonder how Alexia reacted?!

^

username5: ¡Con lo cercanas que son Alexia y y/n, estoy seguro de que ella reaccionó bien!

With how close Alexia and y/n are I am sure she reacted well!

username6: y/n batlle! y/n batlle! Cute!!

username7: ¿Cómo ninguna de nosotras adivinó?

How did none of us guess?

^

username8: Todas somos idiotas

We are all idiots :)

See more comments...

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y/n bit at her fingernail worriedly as she watched Mariona race forward, the ball bulging at the back of the net just as the clock hit 90 minutes + 6.

y/n jumped up excitedly, her and Mapi screaming in excitement as the crowd erupted in shock and excitement, screams of victory echoing as the Swedish team slumped in upset and y/n felt bad for them.

Mapi and y/n ran down to the barrier of the friends and family section, Alexia moving to her sister and standing on the railing so the two could share a tight hug.

Ona pulls herself up next to Alexia, y/n and her sharing a smile as y/n pulls away from her sister, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she does so.

y/n then looks at Ona and grins, leaning down to press a soft kiss against her lips which sends the crowd crazier as Ona grins into the kiss.

The two pull away, noses brushing each other as they share several giggles at the cheers and y/n can't help but sigh in relief as she pulls away grinning at the cheers which echoed.

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y/n just posted

Liked by marialeonn16, alexiaputellas and 3,128,199 others

tagged ona.batlle

y/n Instantáneas de casi un año de amor 🩷

Snapshots of almost a year of love

comments disabled

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ona.batlle just posted

Liked by, alexiaputellas, lucybronze and 900,377 others

tagged y/n

ona.batlle Un año de felicidad contigo 🩷

A year of happiness with you

comments disabled

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END - hope you enjoyed xxx

[angeliquev]

' oh, milo, no me tientes de esa forma, sabes que adoro que me traten como una princesa. ' dice con una sonrisita satisfecha, forma de ser de angelique puede caer bien o mal, pero es cien por ciento genuina, transparente. dejarse mimar por otres es algo que disfruta mucho. observa mejillas sonrojadas y sabe que hizo lo correcto, gustándole aquel efecto que parece tener sobre contraria, el cual imagina no debe querer exponer pero al final, también es una chica real, simplemente se le nota. vuelve a caminar como si nada, andar es desenvuelto, sin preocupaciones, quizá minutos antes su malhumor era notorio pero ahora, entretenida con nueva compañía, no se concentra en eso. ' gracias, lo sé, pero es lindo escucharlo de tus labios. ' sin intenciones de mostrar falsa modestia, contesta con coquetería, manteniendo aires seductores que aparecen naturales. ' ¿entonces? ¿vas a mostrarme la niña adorable que eras? no me dejes con la curiosidad. '

💖

curiosidad recae sobre el calzado femenino. necesita ver para creer, grande es su sorpresa al descubrir que tacones son los que pisan terreno. ‘ si te cansas puedo cargarte. ’ labios esbozan curva que acompaña ofrecimiento, excusa que quizá con un poco de suerte le permita pasar otro rato en compañía femenina. caminar se detiene como primera instancia ante tacto, atrevimiento y bochorno le toman por sorpresa tiñendo mejillas de rojo en claro bochorno. ‘ ah ~ gr-gracias. ’ carraspeo de garganta dispersa timidez, volviendo a retomar andar sin dirección aparente. ‘ tu también luces muy bonita, pero eso no es algo nuevo porque siempre te ves bonita. ’ razón se aferra a cualquier vestigio de valor para devolver sincero cumplido. incluso con tacones cubiertos de lodo. ’ bromea para calmar alboroto. 

[adribosch-fan]

No llames “socialistas” a los países escandinavos

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