#down fall si`le

[nixii-sabre]

bro is looking DISrespectfully

[mellosdrawings]

When you need to declare your love to your wife but it is so strong you can't help but revert back to french.

You know the perk of being french ? I can write Rook rambling haha !

(Though I am incapable of writing poetry, so here is the poem I used and its approximate translation:

Je respire où tu palpites,

Tu sais ; à quoi bon, hélas !

Rester là si tu me quittes,

Et vivre si tu t'en vas ?

(I breathe where you throb, you know ;

What for, alas! stay here if you leave me, and live if you go away?)

A quoi bon vivre, étant l'ombre

De cet ange qui s'enfuit ?

A quoi bon, sous le ciel sombre,

N'être plus que de la nuit ?

(What good is living, being the shadow of this fleeing angel?

What for, under the dark sky, being from the night only?)

Je suis la fleur des murailles

Dont avril est le seul bien.

Il suffit que tu t'en ailles

Pour qu'il ne reste plus rien.

(I am the flower of your walls for which April is the only good.

You only need to leave for me to be left with nothing.)

Tu m'entoures d'Auréoles;

Te voir est mon seul souci.

Il suffit que tu t'envoles

Pour que je m'envole aussi.

(You surround me with Halos;

I care only about seeing you.

You need only to take flight for me to fly too.)

Si tu pars, mon front se penche ;

Mon âme au ciel, son berceau,

Fuira, dans ta main blanche

Tu tiens ce sauvage oiseau.

(Should you leave, my front/forehead shall lean ;

My soul in the sky, its cradle, will flee,

In your white hand you hold this wild bird.)

Que veux-tu que je devienne

Si je n'entends plus ton pas ?

Est-ce ta vie ou la mienne

Qui s'en va ? Je ne sais pas.

(What would I become, should I not hear your steps anymore?

Is it your life or mine that is fleeing ?

I cannot tell?)

Quand mon orage succombe,

J'en reprends dans ton coeur pur ;

Je suis comme la colombe

Qui vient boire au lac d'azur.

(When my thunder dies down, I take some from your pure heart ;

I am like the dove that just drank in the azur lake.)

L'amour fait comprendre à l'âme

L'univers, salubre et béni ;

Et cette petite flamme

Seule éclaire l'infini

(Love makes the soul understand the universe, healthful and blessed ;

And this lonely little flame shines upon the endless)

Sans toi, toute la nature

N'est plus qu'un cachot fermé,

Où je vais à l'aventure,

Pâle et n'étant plus aimé.

(Without you, all of nature is only a closed cell where I go on an adventure,

Pale and no longer beloved.)

Sans toi, tout s'effeuille et tombe ;

L'ombre emplit mon noir sourcil ;

Une fête est une tombe,

La patrie est un exil.

(Without you, everything falls apart ;

Shadows fill my dark eyebrow ;

A feast/party is a tomb,

The homeland is an exile.)

Je t'implore et réclame ;

Ne fuis pas loin de mes maux,

O fauvette de mon âme

Qui chantes dans mes rameaux !

(I beg and demand ;

Do not flee any longer from my pain,

O warbler of my soul who sings in my twigs!)

De quoi puis-je avoir envie,

De quoi puis-je avoir effroi,

Que ferai-je de la vie

Si tu n'es plus près de moi ?

(What could I want?

What could I be afraid of?

What would I do of life without you by my side?)

Tu portes dans la lumière,

Tu portes dans les buissons,

Sur une aile ma prière,

Et sur l'autre mes chansons.

(You carry in the light,

You carry in the bushes,

On a wing my prayers,

On the other my songs.)

Que dirai-je aux champs que voile

L'inconsolable douleur ?

Que ferai-je de l'étoile ?

Que ferai-je de la fleur ?

(What will I tell to the fields that hide my inconsolable pain?

What would I do of the star?

What would I do of the flower?)

Que dirai-je au bois morose

Qu'illuminait ta douceur ?

Que répondrai-je à la rose

Disant : " Où donc est ma soeur ?"

(What will I tell to the morose forest that illuminated your softness?

What will I answer at the rose asking "Where is my sister?")

J'en mourrai ; fuis, si tu l'oses.

A quoi bon, jours révolus !

Regarder toutes ces choses

Qu'elle ne regarde plus ?

(I would die ;

Flee if you dare.

What is the point, days gone! of looking at all those she no longer looks at?)

Que ferai-je de la lyre,

De la vertu, du destin ?

Hélas ! et, sans ton sourire,

Que ferai-je du matin ?

(What would I do of the lyre, of virtue, of destiny?

Alas! And, without your smile,

What would I do of the morning?)

Que ferai-je, seul, farouche,

Sans toi, du jour et des cieux,

De mes baisers sans ta bouche,

Et de mes pleurs sans tes yeux !

(What would I do, alone, wild, without you, of days and heavens,

Of my kisses without your lips,

And of my tears without your eyes!)

Il suffit que tu t'envoles pour que je m'envoles aussi - Victor Hugo

(You need only take flight for me to fly too))

[onlyonetifosi]

Behind the camera: Netflix S7

hellooo beautiful people, how are you? hope you like the episode, comment if you want to be in the taglist

The episode kicks off with a chaotic scene at a Monaco supermarket. You, Charles, and Joris are pushing a cart down the aisles, filling it with essentials (and, in Charles’ case, a ridiculous amount of pasta and cheese).

"Charles, on a littéralement une cuisine pleine de pâtes," you say, eyeing the groceries. (Charles, we literally have a kitchen full of pasta.)

"C'est une semaine importante, je dois manger correctement!" Charles defends, tossing another pack into the cart. (It’s an important week, I need to eat properly!)

Joris smirks, glancing at the overstuffed cart. "Correctement ou comme un homme qui se prépare à l'hibernation?" (Properly or like a man preparing for hibernation?)

Cut to the checkout line. Charles confidently inserts his credit card into the machine, only for the machine to beep. Declined.

Silence.

You and Joris exchange looks before bursting into laughter.

"Leclerc, multimillionaire Ferrari driver, can't pay for his own groceries!" you tease, pulling out your own card. "Sérieusement, c’est quoi ce bordel?" (Seriously, what the hell is this?)

Charles groans, rubbing his temples. "C'est la banque, ils bloquent parfois ma carte quand j'achète trop à Monaco." (It’s the bank, they sometimes block my card when I buy too much in Monaco.)

Joris leans in. "Ou peut-être qu'ils savent que tu dépenses trop." (Or maybe they know you spend too much.)

The cashier chuckles as you hand over your card. "T’inquiète pas, Charlie, je t’enverrai la facture." (Don’t worry, Charlie, I’ll send you the bill.)

Charles rolls his eyes as you and Joris high-five.

Then the episode shows old footage: a young Charles, Y/N and Arthur Leclerc, karting together on a track. Their father, Hervé Leclerc, stands by, smiling. His voice, captured in an old interview, echoes through the scene.

"Ils ont toujours été rapides, mais Y/N aussi. Ils ont la course dans le sang." (They have always been fast, but Y/N too. They have racing in their blood.)

Charles, Yn and their childhood friends are on his yacht.

You and Alexandra are lounging on the deck, sunglasses on, watching the guys fool around and dare each other to jump into the water in the most ridiculous ways possible.

Riccardo stands on the railing. "Cinq euros si je saute en faisant un backflip." (Five euros if I jump with a backflip.)

Charles leans back. "Je te paie dix si tu rates et tombes comme un idiot." (I’ll pay you ten if you fail and fall like an idiot.)

Alex turns to you, shaking her head. "Ils n'ont pas changé depuis l'école, hein?" (They haven’t changed since school, huh?)

You smirk. "Pas du tout. Juste plus d'argent pour faire des conneries." (Not at all. Just more money to do dumb things.)

Riccardo jumps—flailing, belly-flopping straight into the water. The entire yacht erupts in laughter.

Charles claps dramatically. "Dix euros pour la pire tentative de l’histoire." (Ten euros for the worst attempt in history.)

Hugo and Nico grab Riccardo’s towel and refuse to give it back, leaving him shivering.

It’s midweek, and tradition dictates one thing: Charles gets his pre-Monaco GP haircut from Pascale, your maman.

The scene opens inside Charles’ Monaco apartment. He’s seated on a chair, cape around his shoulders, while Pascale meticulously trims his hair. You, meanwhile, are on the floor with Léo, Charles and Alexandra’s tiny dachshund, rubbing his belly.

Alexandra sits beside you, scrolling on her phone as you gossip.

Léo suddenly jumps onto Charles' lap, causing Pascale to huff. "Léo, arrête! Il va finir avec une coupe asymétrique!" (Léo, stop! He’s going to end up with an uneven cut!)

You and Alex burst into laughter as Charles tries to hold Léo still.

Then the episode shows all the Leclerc siblings—Lorenzo, Charles, Y/N, and Arthur—sit together on a Monaco rooftop terrace, sharing a meal.

Lorenzo pours the wine, acting like the responsible older brother he always is.

"C’est fou de penser que cette semaine, tu pourrais enfin gagner à Monaco," he tells Charles. (It’s crazy to think that this week, you could finally win in Monaco.)

Arthur smirks. "Ouais, ou bien il va encore maudire cette course." (Yeah, or he’s going to curse this race again.)

You laugh, nudging Charles. "Si tu maudis encore Monaco, je te déshérite." (If you curse Monaco again, I’m disowning you.)

Charles groans. "Pourquoi vous êtes toujours contre moi?" (Why are you always against me?)

Lorenzo chuckles. "On n’est pas contre toi, on est réalistes." (We’re not against you, we’re just realistic.)

Arthur raises his glass. "Allez, à la chance, parce que tu en auras besoin." (Cheers to luck, because you’re going to need it.)

Charles rolls his eyes but clinks his glass anyway. "À la famille." (To family.)

Then, Netflix transitions into dramatic music—because next comes the real test.

Cut to: Monaco, 2024. The weight of expectation hangs heavy over the weekend. Ferrari has given Charles a car capable of winning, but the question remains—can he finally break the Monaco curse?

"We were born eighteen minutes apart," you say in your Drive to Survive interview. "Charles has always been ahead. He was always ahead in karting… and now, he had the chance to be ahead of history too."

The Ferrari garage is suffocating with tension. You grip Arthur’s hand so tightly it’s cutting off his circulation, but he doesn't care. Your eyes are locked on the screen as Charles navigates the final laps of his home race.

Joris is beside you, pacing, muttering curses under his breath. Alexandra, Charles’ girlfriend, is clutching your arm so hard you think she might leave bruises.

"If something happens now, je jure que je casse tout." Arthur mutters. (I swear I’ll break everything.)

"He’s got this," you whisper, willing it to be true.

Then—the checkered flag.

Silence for a second. Then the Ferrari pit wall erupts. Engineers throw their headsets, people scream, and you—you can’t breathe.

"He did it," Joris says, stunned.

You don’t even think before sprinting towards the pit lane, pushing past Ferrari personnel until you see the monitors displaying the leaderboard: P1 – Charles Leclerc.

He won.

Charles steps out of his car to deafening cheers, his hands shaking as he pulls off his helmet. He looks around, eyes wide with disbelief, before covering his face with both hands.

Netflix cuts to the post-race interviews. Charles stands in front of the cameras, still breathless, the Monegasque flag draped over his shoulders. His voice wavers.

"The last laps… I was thinking about my dad," he says, swallowing hard. "It was our dream."

The camera zooms in as his eyes glisten under the harsh lights.

"The emotions started coming up two laps from the end, and I was struggling to see." He lets out a soft, breathy laugh, shaking his head. "On the last lap, coming out of the tunnel, I couldn’t see anything. I was crying."

You watch from the sidelines, biting your lip to keep from crying yourself. Your mother, Pascale, stands beside you, eyes glassy with emotion.

"Il l’a fait, Maman," whispers Yn. (He did it, maman.)

She nods, voice thick. "Oui. Papa aurait été si fier." (Yes. Papa would have been so proud.)

Charles looks over, eyes finding yours, and in that moment, you know—this isn’t just his victory. It’s yours, Arthur’s, your maman’s. It’s your father’s.

The curse is broken.

Later that night, Monaco is drowning in red. Jimmy’z is packed and half the F1 grid is there

And Charles? Charles is absolutely wasted.

You lean against the bar, watching your twin brother stumble onto the dance floor, a massive Monegasque flag draped over his shoulders like a superhero cape.

Pierre, already tipsy, claps him on the back. "Le Prince de Monaco!" (The Prince of Monaco!)

"Arrête, il va plus passer les portes de Maranello à cause de son ego!" you joke, shaking your head. (Stop, he won’t fit through the doors at Maranello because of his ego!)

Charles, oblivious to everything, wraps an arm around your shoulders, grinning like a madman.

"YN, j’ai gagné," he slurs, his voice thick with emotion. (YN, I won.)

Your heart clenches.

"Je sais, Charles," you whisper, reaching up to push a damp curl from his forehead. (I know, Charles.)

His green eyes shine under the club lights, and suddenly, the music, the people—it all fades away.

"Papa serait fier." (Papa would be proud.)

Charles nods slowly, pressing his forehead to yours for a second, then pulling away when Pierre drags him off for another shot.

Joris slides an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple. "He did it."

You glance back at your twin, now dancing like an idiot in the middle of the club, his long-awaited victory finally sinking in.

"Yeah," you murmur, the weight of years lifting from your shoulders. "He did."

And then the credits roll.

Bonus: Singapore GP Dinner At a restaurant in Singapore, with a view of the Marina Bay, the Leclerc family is seated—except Pierre Gasly, who is late.

And tonight, Charles is not in a good mood.

He did badly in qualifying, and it’s written all over his face—arms crossed, jaw clenched, tapping his fork against his plate.

Arthur, already sensing his bad mood, leans over to Y/N and whispers:

"Il va exploser sur quelqu’un, c’est sûr." (He’s going to explode on someone, for sure.)

Y/N sighs, watching Charles angrily flip through the menu. "Ouais, et ce sera Pierre." (Yeah, and it’ll be Pierre.)

Charles? Already ordering the food.

Alexandra looks around. "Euh… on n’attend pas Pierre?" (Uh… aren’t we waiting for Pierre?)

Without even looking up from his phone, Charles answers "Non." (No.)

Arthur snorts. "Pierre est toujours en retard, on sait comment ça finit." (Pierre is always late, we know how this ends.)

Charles doesn’t even hesitate—he calls Pierre.

The camera zooms in on his phone screen:

📞 Calling: Pierre

Pierre picks up on the third ring.

"Ouais, Charlie?" (Yeah, Charlie?)

Charles doesn’t even say hi.

"T’ES OÙ?!" (WHERE ARE YOU?!) he answers angrily

Pierre pauses for a second, like he’s debating whether to lie. Then:

"J’arrive, j’arrive! Deux minutes!" (I’m coming, I’m coming! Two minutes!)

Charles rolls his eyes. "Ça fait vingt minutes que tu dis ça, Calamar." (You’ve been saying that for twenty minutes.)

Pierre laughs nervously. "Je suis littéralement en route." (I’m literally on my way.)

Charles, completely done: "Ouais, bah moi j’attends pas." (Yeah, well, I’m not waiting.)

And with that, he orders the starters.

Fifteen minutes later, the restaurant doors swing open.

Pierre walks in with Kika and his trainer. He immediately spots the table—and Charles, who is already drinking and eating.

Pierre’s face drops.

"T’AS PAS ATTENDU?!" (YOU DIDN’T WAIT?!)

Charles, completely unimpressed, takes another sip of his drink. "J’avais faim." (I was hungry.)

Pierre drops into the seat next to Y/N, still offended.

"T’avais faim ou t’étais juste énervé après ta qualif?" (Were you hungry, or were you just mad after quali?)

Silence.

Arthur snorts. "Il va te tuer." (He’s going to kill you.)

Charles sets down his glass. "Tu veux vraiment me parler de qualifications, Pierre?" (Do you really want to talk to me about qualifying, Pierre?)

Pierre raises his hands defensively. "Okay, okay! Pas besoin de m’agresser." (Okay, okay! No need to attack me.)

Pierre finally starts eating, still shaking his head.

"Tu sais, je suis vraiment blessé, Charlie. J’aurais attendu pour toi." (You know, I’m really hurt, Charlie. I would have waited for you.)

Charles raises an eyebrow. "C’est faux." (That’s false.)

Arthur, smirking, nods. "Mens encore." (Lie again.)

Pierre sighs dramatically, stabbing his fork into his food. "Vous êtes horribles." (You’re all horrible.)

The Netflix camera cuts to Charles, calmly chewing his food, absolutely ignoring Pierre’s whining.

taglist: @love4lando@gcldtom@im-mi@hiireadstuff@celesteblack08@reblog-princess@sunf1ower16@janeholt3@athena-artemis-dorian-gray@minkyungseokie@tesi1

[pottersfia]

hola, extrañamente esto me da mucha pena, pero es una cosa que por alguna razón quisiera experimentar (ya me avergoncé mas) donde Theo y la lectora sean pareja y la lectora le de consentimiento de que la folle mientras ella duerme.

solo si quieres!!!!!

sleepless night | t.n. x fem!reader

a/n: i translated this to English and i hope you like it! i really like this kink hehe

cw: 18+ smut, somnophilia, cnc ? (permission is established)

theodore couldn’t sleep. insomnia was something he was no stranger to but this night was especially difficult as his gorgeous girlfriend was fast asleep night to him. it was practically 3am and just half an hour before, the two of you were in the middle of a heated make out.

he loved the feeling of your hands in his hair or squeezing his arms, feeling you grind down on his hard on, all while his lips are on yours. soon after you rolled off him and whispered how tired you were. he gave you a kiss goodnight and covered you up as you fell asleep.

this was no issue for him besides the fact that you had been wearing thin pj bottoms with no underwear and he could feel you getting wet on his lap. the thought kept him awake and painfully hard. he swiftly pulled his pants down and stroked himself as he looked at you. you were on your back with your face towards him and the tanktop you wore was falling off your shoulder, almost exposing your chest.

theodore couldn’t take it anymore when he remembered you sharing that you wouldn’t him using you while you were asleep. he smiled to himself and moved the blanket off of you. he slowly pulled your pants down and reached between your legs to touch you.

“still wet.” he muttered to himself. his movements caused you to move in your sleep, facing your face away from him. he carefully angled you body to the side and let you adjust. he then rubbed his cock between your wet folds as he bit his lip to hold back a moan.

“fuck, s-so warm.” he stuttered out. theodore couldn’t take it anymore. he needed to be inside you as he felt himself throbbing. he grabbed his cock and slipped it inside your wet pussy, letting out a whine of relief. you moved slightly to the feeling and he quietly shushed you as he rubbed your thigh.

“shh, stay still..” he whispered and started thrusting into you. theodore was completely taken but the feeling of you clenching around him. he moved his hand up to pull your top up, exposing your tits. he held onto one and played with your nipple. he closed his eyes as they rolled up. he had to hold back his moans but it was so hard with his cock twitching inside you.

suddenly he felt himself grow more and more desperate as his high was coming. he thrusted into you faster, now leaving kisses on your shoulder and neck. you were just opening your eyes as you became conscious of the full feeling you felt between your legs. the kisses and touch you felt was familiar and you immediately knew what theodore was up to.

“theo?” you groaned. he eyes opened to see you looking back at him. he loved your face so much.

“fuck, bella. just keep looking at me. n-need to fill this pussy.” he was finally free to moan for you. you loved seeing him in this state and wanted him to feel good for you. you took his hand and stuck his thumb in your mouth, sucking on it and looking right at him. he then let out the most pornographic moan as his warm cum filled you.

“that was perfect.” he smiled and kissed you.

[cinnaleaf]

In Your DMs: Left on Read - Ch 1: Never Say Never

summary: you left jude on read once—but after one reckless night, he’s making damn sure you never ignore him again 💫 | MDNI 18+

warnings: angst/tension, push/pull dynamic, alcohol consumption, party setting, language, sexual references, public argument, easter eggs from previous fics wc: ~5.9k (approx. 21 minutes) 💋: it’s only chapter 1… pray for them. song inspo: VeLDÁ x Bad Bunny ft Omar Courtz & Dei V

It had been two weeks since you hooked up with Jude in a drunken rendezvous, and while the dick was surprisingly fantastic, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starting to get the ick. You gave Jude your number after you left his house that afternoon in post-orgasm delusion and he’d been bombarding your phone with texts, voice messages, unscheduled facetime calls, and random tiktoks that “reminded him of you” ever since. He clearly thought your hookup was something more, which made you regret your decision to give him any attention at all. Although pretty privilege had its perks, a world class footballer being obsessed with you was not a perk you wanted to engage in – especially when it was Jude Bellingham.

You sat in the apartment you shared with Bri and Tasha, watching your other friend, Mateo, scroll through his phone while shaking his head. “Miss girl…” he drawled with an amused grin. “They have all of your tea in 4k. All of it.” Mateo handed his phone to you and you nastily glared at the screen, annoyed that you suddenly became a part of whatever the fuck this was:

SpillTheBeansUK Looks like Jude Bellingham had his eye on something other than football two weeks ago 👀. The England star was spotted leaving a Madrid club with 21 year old Y/N, an NYU Tisch film & television student from Miami who’s currently studying abroad and very much a regular in both cities’ party scenes. Her dad is none other than THE ‘Dr. Cinch’, the mastermind behind SculptHaus Miami, the go to clinic for IG baddies and A-listers looking for that perfect CINCHED look 💉 Jude’s no stranger to being deep in a girl’s likes, but he’s been extra consistent with Y/N’s lately. What’s really going on here? Because word is, she’s not exactly the type to be impressed.. especially by ballers like him. 🤨

2Fast4VAR wait she’s from miami?? bro lost before he even started. she’s built different. 😂

CertifiedMenace69 if i was jude i’d be in her dms, comments, and her email too she’s bad af

BigBootyJudeyFC he’s about to start liking those inspirational quotes on IG like “if it’s meant to be, it will be.” 💀

MissMiamiDade305 jude better watch out... does anyone remember when she had that miami promoter crying on IG live last year?? she does NOT play with these men 💀💀

gossipgorlzzz not him liking her pics and finally getting the W! stay persistent kings!!

SpillTheBeansES Si Jude cree que puede cambiarla.. le deseo suerte 🤷‍♀️ (If Jude thinks he can change her.. I wish him luck)

JudePorFavor jude’s probably in her DMs like “pls respond angel 😩” LMAO

Baddiebydesign not dr. cinch’s daughter!! she’s set for life. face card AND her dad’s the plug? i bet her friends never have to pay for fillers 😭

AnonymousInsider13 i heard she’s cool with that real madrid baloncesto guy too…santiago something. ngl that man is fine af. if she’s choosing between him and jude i see why she’s taking her sweet time 

RedBlooded1892 maybe her dad can fix jude’s shoulder that’s about to fall off the hinge 😭 cinchdollsnob her dad literally invented half the faces we double tap. a baddie with real face card genetics. life ain’t fair. ChampagnePapiButBroke jude and his big bum liking all her pics is sending me. boy was lurking HARD

ChickenNCoke cinched bellibabe is kind of an iconic alias icl

mamacitasintl lmaooo if jude’s trying to lock her down..good luck. her dad probably has a vetting process more intense than real madrid’s medicals

nosygirlieFC jude defo heard about trent bagging the perfume baddie and thought he could do the same LOL

You were annoyed by the post to an extreme amount. Whoever was the administrator of this god awful account decided to treat you like you were some Z list Love Island reject instead of a girl who got dicked down ONE time in a moment of weakness and dipped.

Bri leaned over to scan the screen and let out a cackle. “ ‘Jude Bellingham had his eye on something other than football two weeks ago!’ ” she mimicked in a dramatized voice. 

“Ew.” You scrunched your nose in disgust. 

Tasha was deep in the comments on her own phone, scrolling at lightning speed. “No but, ‘She’s not exactly the type to be impressed… especially by ballers like him’ is so shady,” she snorted, flicking her eyes to yours. “The streets know you too well.”

Mateo looked at you with a sly grin, clasping his hands together. “Sooo...how does it feel to be a Bellingham Baddie?”

You cut your eyes at him. “Don’t fucking start.”

“It’s too late.” Bri waved her phone in the air, grinning. “Your inauguration is already underway. These people are in the comments eating it up.”

“Let me see” Mateo snatched Bri’s phone from her and started reading out loud. “ ‘She’s bad as hell, I’d be in her likes too.’ ” He smirked, flipping his wrist. “Real recognizes real.”

Tasha leaned over, giggling. “Wait, this one says ‘Jude’s in his romantic era. He’s playing the long game.’ ”

“Oh hell no. Absolutely not.” You reached for the phone but Mateo dodged you with the speed of a messy gay man who lived for drama. 

“Hold on, hold on.” He scrolled further, widening his eyes before he started howling. “Ohhh girl, not this one!” he wheezed, hardly able to get his words out. “ ‘Jude’s big bum came from Dr. Cinch? Noted.’ ”

Bri and Tasha both started laughing with tears streaming down their eyes. “Not Jude having BBL allegations because they found out who your dad is!”

You ran your hands across your face, shaking your head. “I hate this app.”

Mateo was screaming along with the other two, kicking his feet out but you really didn’t find it all that funny. “No, I LOVE this app!”

After their laughter subsided, Tasha shook her head, continuing to scroll through the comments. “The way they dug up your whole life just off one club sighting is actually insane.”

“I know. They need jobs.” You groaned, leaning back against the cushions. 

Mateo tilted his head while eyeing you. “Well, since you’re the new bombshell in the Bellingham Baddie villa, you may as well tell me...how was it?”

Bri and Tasha perked up immediately, turning to face you while giggling, mainly because they already knew. You groaned, rolling your eyes as you picked up your own phone. “It was fine.”

“Fine?” Mateo questioned, not fully believing you because you usually gave him the full rundown in detail, but this time you were holding back. “Just fine?! Don’t tell me he’s a minute man. It’s always the hot ones.”

Bri leaned in. “Mmm, I don’t know about that. Tasha and I called and she couldn’t even talk. That man blew her back out for sure.”

“In her words exactly.. it was ‘one hundred percent worth it’ ” Tasha added. “If the dick was bad she would’ve come home the next day and roasted his ass but she didn’t. She was quiet as a mouse.”

Mateo pointed at you accusingly, narrowing his eyes while analyzing you. “And you keep dodging the conversation which means it had to be amazing.”

You rolled your eyes, fake scrolling through your phone like you always did when you couldn’t look someone in the eye. “Well I don’t know about all of that now...he’s doing too much.”

Mateo snickered. “You gave him the best pussy of his life and dipped. Of course he’s doing too much.”

You groaned again, letting your head fall back against the couch. “Can y’all shut the fuck up?”

“Absolutely not.” Mateo fired back immediately, leaning forward to read you for filth. “I know you. If it was mid, you would’ve been dragging him for filth. You’d be in this living room doing a full dissertation on why that man is a waste of height.”

Tasha nodded, scrolling with purpose. “But instead you’re holding back.”

Bri suddenly gasped, pointing a finger at you. “Ooh, she likes him.”

That was where you drew the line. The suggestion that you, of all people, would be catching feelings for a footballer, let alone Jude Bellingham sent you straight into defense mode. It wasn’t even about him specifically, but merely the principle of the matter. You didn’t date athletes. Not seriously anyway. NEVER seriously. You learned a long time ago they were all the same: entitled, egotistical, and so used to women throwing themselves at their feet just because they could handle a ball and had a few viral highlight reels. They saw women as accessories, something to show off when it suited them and discard when it didn’t. You weren’t about to be anyone’s little off-season toy passed around in a group chat the second they got bored. That was never going to be you.

But ballers weren’t completely useless though, they had their perks. Stamina? Unmatched. Strength? Ideal. But once the adrenaline wore off and post-orgasm clarity set in, the appeal disappeared right along with it. You entertained a few before just for fun, just to see if they were worth the hype, but they all had one thing in common: they started thinking they were special. Like they had you hooked. Like they were pulling the strings.

It was funny, really. Because if anything? They were always the ones falling first. Every time.

Jude was proving to be no different. The way he sauntered up to you in the club as if he knew where the night was headed, versus the way his ego deflated the minute you left his messages on read for weeks was textbook athlete behavior. And now? He was chasing you.

Mateo tapped the edge of his phone against his palm, watching you with an expression that made it very clear he was about to ask something that would grate your nerves.

“So what’s really going on with you and Jude?” He tilted his head, brows raised in intrigue. “Like.. what is he to you?”

You didn’t even look up from your phone and scrolled as you answered, “A pronoun.”

Mateo’s mouth dropped open, delighted by your messy answer. “Be so fucking for real Y/N” he said, crossing one leg over the other. “If he’s just a pronoun to you then why did you give him your number?”

Tasha didn’t even give you a chance to answer before jumping in. “That’s actually a great fucking question. Because you knew giving him your number meant this...” she gestured to the entire situation, the group chat chaos, the SpillTheBeansUK mess, “so why did you do it?”

You sighed dramatically, tilting your head back against the couch from being exhausted by all of this nonsense. “He asked for it, so I gave it.”

Bri blinked at you. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Mateo was unconvinced. “And you just gave it to him? No hesitation? No thoughts?”

“I was in a state of post-nut delusion.” You shrugged, sipping from your water bottle to avoid any further questions.

Tasha sucked her teeth. “Mmm.” 

Bri was already side-eyeing you. “Mmhmm.” 

Mateo tapped his phone again, unimpressed. “Lying just like the mattress he put you through, I see.”

You ignored them. There was a very brief moment where you considered not giving him your number. You could’ve just taken your Uber and dipped, pretended like it never happened, and gone back to your normal, Bellingham-free existence. But Jude gave you a cocky, half lidded smirk that made you fold immediately when he asked. You figured your brain was still stuck somewhere between your legs for wanting to hear from him again, which was exactly why you were so annoyed with yourself. Not only was he blowing up your phone, but now you were on SpillTheBeansUK. You scrolled through the endless posts dissecting your one mistake, making you feel more irritated with every new comment. There were threads analyzing your every move, posts tracking Jude’s IG likes, and an entire debate about whether or not you were “Jude’s type.” 

“How do these people have so much free time? Is the unemployment rate that high?” you muttered, aggressively tapping out of Instagram. “I was in the same club as him one time, and suddenly I’m the internet’s main character of the day? I fucking hate it here.”

Bri snickered, nudging Tasha. “Not her being mad when she willingly chose to leave with him.”

You shot the nastiest glare at both of them.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Bri challenged, raising her brow.

She wasn’t wrong. You did willingly leave with him. You hated the attention and the way people were dissecting your life, but you weren’t completely mad at the way Jude was acting. Mainly because he wasn’t just moving on like it never happened and letting you fade into the background. He was still chasing you. And even if you never wanted to admit it.. you liked that.

Your phone pinged in your hand to bring you out of your thoughts, making you glance down at your notifications.

JUDE BELLINGHAM ❌ 🙄 17:43 - Did I do something?? 17:51 - Because I’m struggling to believe I had you screaming my name two weeks ago but now you’re airing me. 18:02 - Hello? 18:27 - Ok I get it. I know you don’t really do this athlete thing. 18:28 - I’m not blocked though 👀 18:42 - Let me take you out?

You rolled your eyes before switching to a different text thread.

SANTI DOMINGUEZ 🏀 🇩🇴 20:42 - Y/Nitaaa que haces esta noche? (what are you doing tonight?) 20:42 - Fiesta en La Finca at mi pana’s house for the night. Big ass infinity pool, drinks, music, todo. Pull up. 20:43 - Bring your friends too. Dime que si. (Tell me yes.)

You smiled, already typing out a response.

20:45 - A party in La Finca? Bet. 20:46 - We’re coming. You better have good drinks!

Santi hearted the message instantly.

20:47 - Siempre, preciosa. Nos vemos. (Always, gorgeous. See you soon.)

You liked Santi. He was one of the few people in Madrid who weren’t constantly on some clout chasing nonsense, which meant you actually enjoyed being around him. And even though he could be a little flirty, it wasn’t serious. 

You were just about to lock your phone when another text rolled in.

JUDE BELLINGHAM ❌ 🙄 20:48 - Your dad is a plastic surgeon??

You frowned, watching as a second message came in.

— [SpillTheBeansUK post]

Oh. He really was chronically online. 

“Ew,” you muttered from the ick of it all before typing out your own response.

20:48 - why the fuck are you sending me STB links like you’re a gossip girl admin? touch grass.

There was no immediate response but you knew he probably read it the second the notification popped up on his phone. He was probably typing, stopping, then typing again, trying to figure out how to keep you engaged without pushing too far. It was funny really, the difference between the two of them. Santi would text once, maybe twice most of the time and you would reply immediately with no hesitation. Meanwhile, Jude would send text after text, throw in tiktoks, voice messages and a Facetime call here and there, which made you want to take your sweet time responding.

You could already feel the looks your friends were giving you, but Mateo was the first to speak.

“So you answer Santiago immediately but Jude has to beg for a response?” He smirked, already piecing together what would likely go down tonight at the party. Tasha hummed in agreement and glanced over your shoulder at your phone. “She doesn’t even respond to us that fast but Santi texts and suddenly her fingers work?”

You locked your phone and flipped it over on the table so they wouldn’t see any other message notifications from Jude or Santi. “It’s not that deep.” 

“It is that deep,” the three of them spoke in unison. 

Tasha pointed at your phone and then crossed her arms. “Explain.”

You stretched your arms over your head, already starting to prepare your exit strategy. “I don’t have to explain anything.”

“Oh, but you do,” Bri countered, shifting to face you. “Because you clearly like the attention from both of them.”

You let out a sharp exhale and grabbed your phone, making your way to your bedroom. “I have to get ready for the party and I suggest y’all do the same if you’re coming.”

You dropped your phone onto the bed and stood in front of your wardrobe, biting your lip while you scanned through your options. La Finca pool parties weren’t the same as your club nights. The vibe was more laid back but the guest list was usually stacked with the most beautiful people you’d ever seen, so naturally you had to one up them and show them how a Miami girl stepped out. Just as you were grabbing a cropped halter top from the hanger, your phone vibrated against your comforter and you snatched it up immediately.

JUDE BELLINGHAM ❌ 🙄 20:58 - Touch grass with me. What’s the move tonight?

You debated telling him about the party, but you decided against it and threw your phone back on the bed with a scoff to finish getting ready. Although he was giving you the ick, something about the way he chased you fed a very specific, very vain part of you and you would be lying if you didn’t admit you weren’t the least bit curious in how far Jude was willing to take it. 

Somewhere outside of your room, you could hear Bri and Tasha moving around, digging through wardrobe drawers and arguing over what top to wear. Mateo’s voice floated down the hall, loudly reminding everyone that if they didn’t hurry up, he was leaving without all of you.

An hour later, the four of you piled into a car with the windows down as the city lights of Madrid blurred past. The further you drove into La Finca, the bigger the homes became. When you finally pulled up to the house, you could hear a mix of reggaeton, afrobeats and spanish trap music playing through the air. The garden surrounding the property was already full of people with drinks in hand as they laughed and swayed to the music. 

You made your way to the pool area, smelling the mixed scent of tangy smoke from hookah and rum. You adjusted your top, feeling the backless cut brush your skin in the breezy, but warm night time air as you walked on the stone pathway. Your matching mini skirt hugged your hips just right and dipped low enough to show the string of your bikini bottoms underneath. Your small entourage followed behind you, already plotting the kind of chaos they could get into tonight.

Mateo adjusted the collar of his shirt, scoping out the scene. “I’m manifesting a man with a villa tonight. Just watch.”

“Manifest being the bartender while you’re at it” Tasha muttered, eyeing the outdoor bar where bottles of Ron Barcelo, Brugal, and Larios gin were already in rotation. Someone had cracked open a case of Estrella Galicia beers, and a group near the pool was passing around cups of Kalimotxo, the unofficial drink of every wild night in Spain.

“Vamonos mamis!” Santi yelled from somewhere near the pool. 

His height alone made him impossible to miss. He was a towering 6’5”, had broad shoulders with a trim waist, perfectly white teeth, dimples, deep sun kissed skin, and a freshly trimmed fade that made you tilt your head slightly to take a better look. He had that natural Dominican aura that made it impossible to tell whether he was flirting or just being nice.

“Oh, you’re outside, outside tonight!�� he teased, sliding his arm around your waist for a quick hug. He glanced behind you and smiled at Bri, Tasha and Mateo. “Good to see you all. Drinks are in the kitchen. Hookah’s by the pool.”

“And you’re where?” Bri asked, arching a brow while biting the nail of her finger flirtatiously.

“Everywhere.” Santi winked, then tilted his head back toward the pool. “Come find me if you need anything.” He disappeared back into the crowd before any of you had time to respond, leaving the scent of his cologne lingering between all of you.

“Oooh he’s wearing Rêveur.” Tasha nodded in approval, taking a second glance back to get another look at him. “That man has taste.” 

“But why is he so fineee?” Bri muttered under her breath.

Mateo snickered. “Because God had time when he made Dominican men that’s why.”

You hated gassing men up too much, so you gave them a blank stare, eventually walking away to make your way toward the drinks as Bad Bunny’s “VeLDÁ” played through the sound system. They followed behind and Mateo took on his duty as bartender, rummaging through bottles of Havana Club and Brugal Añejo.

“Shots or mixed drinks?” Mateo asked, double fisting bottles in his hands.

“Mixed” you answered immediately.

“Shots” Bri and Tasha dueted.

“Majority rules, sorry Y/N” Mateo mused as he reached for the shot glasses.

On the other side of the yard, Jude leaned back in an outdoor lounge chair, resting his arms lazily while his drink sat half empty on the table in front of him. He wasn’t drunk, but the warmth of Madrid, the drinks, and the atmosphere had him leaning into the mood.

“That’s her?” Cama tilted his head toward the cluster of people near the pool, smiling with curiosity.

Jude didn’t answer at first and stared at the condensation on his glass before moving his eyes back to you. He clocked you as soon as you stepped on the stone pathway, he couldn’t have missed you even if he tried. The backless halter top with the matching mini skirt, coupled with the sheen of your Dior lip oil catching in the light every time you tilted your head back to laugh, had his head spinning. Even from a distance, he could see the faint tan lines peeking from under the straps of your bikini strings underneath your outfit.

“Damn..” Kylian whistled beside him, leaning forward to take a closer look at Bri and Tasha. “Who are the girls next to her though?”

Jude glanced sideways, trying to suppress a smirk. “Focus mate.”

“I am focused,” Kylian replied with a laugh, still scanning the scene.

Cama chuckled and nudged Jude’s arm. “She looks good, bro. You bringing her home tonight or what?”

Jude tilted his head, taking another slow sip of his drink. “We’ll see. She likes to play hard to get.”

“Does she know you’re here?” Kylian asked as if he cared, when he was actually plotting on Bri and Tasha.

“Nah.”

The truth sat heavy on his chest. He hadn’t expected to run into you tonight, but then again, Madrid was a small world when it came to hanging around certain circles. It was bound to happen eventually. But seeing you laughing with your friends did something to him that he wasn’t ready to unpack.

“You should go over there” Cama suggested, nudging Jude’s arm. 

“Not yet.” Jude replied, following the curve of your bare shoulders as you tipped your head back to down a shot with your friends. The twist of your face from the burn of the alcohol, along with the parting of your lips made it too easy to remember the way those same lips felt against him just two weeks ago.

—

The shot you had just taken settled warmly in your stomach while the bass from the music grew heavier. The music was loud, the air filled with scents of alcohol, sweat, and smoke but none of it could shake the buzz in your head from spotting Jude in the party crowd.

Of all the parties in Madrid, he had to be at this one.

You clutched your glass tighter, trying to resist the urge to look back at the lounge chairs near the pool. Bri crossed her arms and smirked, darting her eyes between you and Jude. “So you’re just gonna ignore him all night?”

“Ignore who?” you replied flatly, knowing damn well who she was talking about.

“Oh girl. Pack it up.” Tasha chimed in from your other side while swaying to the beat of the music. “You know exactly who.”

“No. I don’t.” you muttered, wiping off the condensation wetness from your fingertips.

“Then why are you gripping the glass like that?” Bri teased, bumping your hip with hers.

You ignored her and instead scanned the crowd for any sign of Santi. You spotted him leaning against a pillar with a bottle of beer in hand, laughing at something one of his teammates said. His crisp white shirt clung to his torso, making you gawk just a little. When he caught your gaze, he lifted his beer and gave you a blinding smile.

Tasha clocked it immediately and raised her eyebrows. “Well.. looks like you have options tonight. Bellingham or Dominguez?”

You sighed heavily, ignoring her again and headed to the pool to dip your feet in. The infinity pool stretched out in front of you as you swung your legs back and forth in the water. You should’ve felt relaxed, or maybe even carefree and tipsy, but instead you were on edge.

On the other side of things, now that you were closer, Jude watched you from the rim of his glass as he took long, slow sips. Kylian and Cama were talking next to him but their words turned into background noise while he observed the way you leaned back with your hands pressed against the pool deck stone.

“She’s going to notice you staring eventually” Kylian leaned in, sensing Jude still had you on his mind.

Jude tilted his head back to finish his drink. The thought of you being so close yet so far away made the alcohol sit heavier in his stomach. You hadn’t really been giving him much of a thought since you hooked up and that bothered him. It made him want you even more. He internally debated with himself, wondering if he should just leave you alone or speak up now that he had an opening that you absolutely couldn’t leave on read. Just as he was about to stand, Cama clapped him on the shoulder with a wide grin. “Go talk to her bro. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She could throw her drink in his face..” Kylian added helpfully.

Jude snorted. “Nah. I don’t think she’s like that.”

He really didn’t know you as well as he thought he did, you were definitely ‘like that’ if the need arose. 

Jude stood up with enough adrenaline and liquid courage to walk the short path to the pool’s edge where you sat. You felt his towering presence immediately as he stood with his hands tucked into his pockets, glancing toward you swishing your feet in the water.

“You ignoring my texts now?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, surprised that he had the gall to start the conversation off that way. “You’re not serious.”

A gleam of moonlight caught on his lips when he shifted closer to you with a lazy smirk plastered over his face. “I get it. You’re a busy girl. But you could’ve at least told me you would be here tonight.”

“For what? Why would I tell you?” you countered, looking up at him in annoyance. “I don’t even know you like that.” The nerve of this boy to think he deserved to know any of your moves when he wasn’t your man, or anything remotely close to it.

“You know me well enough to let me fuck..”

Your head snapped up so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “Excuse me?”

Jude tilted his head, still with a dumb smirk on his face that made you want to slap it clean off his face. His hands were still tucked in his pockets casually, like he wasn’t standing there stirring the most out of you.

“I’m just saying..” he lazily shrugged, as if that would smooth over the conversation.

“Oh, ‘you’re just saying’ ” you mocked, standing up to meet his eye, though you still ended up having to look up because he was so tall. The edge of your skirt brushed against his thigh and you were close enough to see the sheen of sweat on his thick hairline from the warm night air. Up close, Jude was hard to ignore. He got under your skin in the right way to make you give him your full attention.

Just the way he liked it.

“And this is coming from the same man blowing up my phone like I owe him something.”

Jude chuckled under his breath, his eyes moving briefly to your outfit before locking back onto your eyes. “I wouldn’t have to blow your phone up if you just responded the first time, angel.”

Angel.

That word hit you straight in your core. It was impossible not to hear his voice from that night echoing in your head.

“That’s it, angel. Keep fucking me back.”

You took a deep inhale through your nose, clenching your fists on your sides as heat flared through your chest from frustration and other things you weren’t ready to name.

“Don’t call me that” you snapped, but the hitch in your breath told a different story. A story that said you liked it, and Jude noticed. His eyes lowered to your lips briefly, and the corners of his mouth twitched upward like he knew exactly where your mind went. 

“Ohhh, so you do remember” he mused, clearly enjoying himself.

“Jude, I swear-” You shoved his shoulder but he barely moved in the slightest bit. He stood his ground, leaning into your ear to speak low enough so only you could hear. “Don’t start. Unless you’re trying to start something you know I can finish for you.”

“You’re so fucking full of yourself, you know that?”

The warmth from the alcohol running through your veins made your voice louder than you intended, making you become acutely aware of the heads starting to turn your way. In between your conversation with Jude, Tasha and Bri made their way over to sit with Kylian and Cama near the lounge chairs. Bri was sitting on Kylian’s lap with her arms draped over his neck like they knew each other way longer than what had to have been no longer than 15 minutes. All four of them were watching the scene unfold with varying degrees of amusement.

“Okay, fuck this” you muttered under your breath, feeling the embarrassment creep in. Eyes on you and whispers spreading throughout the crowd was the exact type of thing you wanted to avoid. Your mind flashed to the SpillTheBeans post and the comments dissecting your entire life, snapping you right back to the cruel reality of being a newly added ‘Bellingham Baddie’, as your friends called it.

“This is exactly why I don’t fucking date athletes” you jabbed a finger at Jude’s chest for emphasis.

“Who said anything about dating?”

You laughed in disbelief and threw your hands up. The tipsiness loosened your filter in all the wrong ways. “You know what? I’m so sick of-”

“Todo bien?” (Everything okay?)

The sound of Santi’s voice made you freeze mid sentence. You turned around just enough to see him approaching with an unbothered walk, beer still in hand like he wasn’t about to walk straight into chaos. His eyes moved between you and Jude, reading the situation.

“We’re good.” you answered, holding up your hand toward Santi as if that would somehow deescalate whatever was about to go down.

“Didn’t look like it,” Santi eyed Jude in a way that was more curious than confrontational, but Jude wasn’t having it, being the crashout that he was.

“You her bodyguard or something?” Jude shot, tilting his chin as he stepped fully into Santi’s space. Santi’s smile didn’t budge but his posture shifted subtly enough to raise the tension up a couple notches. “Nah. I’m just looking out for a friend” he replied coolly, not breaking eye contact.

“Yeah? Well, she doesn’t need you to–”

“BOTH OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!” you yelled loud enough to cut through the music and all the other conversations happening around the pool. Heads turned with the rise of your voice and half of the party had their eyes locked on the three of you, but you were too far gone, and too far drunk to care.

“I am so tired of you men acting like I’m some prize you get to win!” You jabbed a finger between both of them in frustration. “I don’t fucking belong to either of you! And you..” You turned to Jude with fire in your eyes. “Stop acting like I owe you something just because I let you fuck me ONE time!”

Jude’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.

“And you..” You whipped back to Santi, who at least had the decency to look slightly guilty. “Don’t walk up here like you’re about to save me! I don’t fucking need saving!”

The silence was deafening after the read you gave them, broken only by the distant sound of water pushing against the pool edge and gossiping chatter from the crowd.

Finally, Jude ran a hand over his curls, exhaling hard through his nose. “You done?”

“Yes, I’m done! I’m never fucking you again so get it out of your thick skulled head!” you snapped and stormed off toward the house without looking back. 

Back at the lounge chairs, Kylian and Cama exchanged looks while Bri and Tasha creased in laughter.

“I don’t know whether to be scared or impressed..” Kylian shook his head in amusement.

“Definitely impressed,” Cama replied with a grin.

You stormed off down the path leading toward the house, weaving through random groups of partiers who definitely caught at least half of the argument. The adrenaline and frustration swirling around in your head had you on ten.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” you spoke to yourself, enraged. “I fucking hate ballers. Worms for brains ass motherfuckers.”

The nerve and audacity of that man to approach you like he was owed something more than the one night you already gave him pissed you off. Your chest was filled with a fury of emotions you really didn’t want to unpack, especially not in the middle of a party where half of the crowd had probably pulled out their phones to message their group chats about what they just witnessed. As soon as you reached the back door of the house, Mateo appeared beside you out of nowhere, moving swiftly to match your quick pace.

“Girl.. what was all of that?” he asked, eyes wide with equal parts concern and curiosity.

“Nothing.” you muttered with clenched teeth, but Mateo wasn’t having it.

“Nothing? That was prime telenovela content and I need details immediately. Why did-”

“I’m never fucking Jude again,” you snapped, cutting him off before he had a chance to launch his full analysis. It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than anyone else. Mateo knew Jude having you this bothered by his presence meant you’d be rethinking that exact statement in approximately three to five business days. He’d seen it all before, so instead of pushing any further, he took one sip of his drink and gave a knowing look between you, Santiago, and Jude.

“Mmm… never say never.”

[catcze]

not particularly a request if u don't want it to be but as a fellow wriothesley enjoyer I wanted to share this idea

fontaine is based off of france right? so the thought of wrio being able to speak french and absolutely using that to his advantage to be a flirt has been driving me insane. he would be INSUFFERABLE (especially if his s/o isn't fluent) and I'd be loving every second of it

(also love your works <3 it's the main fuel that's been making me so horrifically down bad for him)

OH ?!!? MY GOD ?!?! HEHAKJDJ FUCK I HAVE TO WRITE THIS I CANT NOT !! It's a little short and a little sweet, but i hope you like it!

(Translations listed at the end! I used google translate, so if there's any mistakes, please feel free to correct me!!)

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

Wriothesley has started to say things to you on the regular— but for the life of you, you can't understand. It starts first on a slow day. You're lounging in his office, reading a random book you've plucked from his shelves. He's just looking through some papers, doing nothing too important.

Then, Wriothesley glances up from his papers, lets his eyes fall on you. "Tu me rends si heureux."

And you're furrowing your brow in confusion, staring at him. It's a phrase form his mother tongue, that much you know. But you're not sure what it actually means. The way his smile is a bit too mischievous, you don't think that he intends for you to understand, anyway.

"I'm... sorry?" You ask. What else can you say? You're pretty sure from his insufferably smug expression that he's not going to tell you what it means anytime soon. At the very least, you're pretty sure he's not shit talking you to your face.

Your eyes narrow.

Probably.

He can see the question on the tip of your tongue, the suspicious glance you cast his way. Wriothesley just chuckles and goes back to the papers on his desk.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart."

The next time, he does it as you're having dinner across from each other in the cafeteria. Your meal is halfway done, having been practically shoveled into your mouth. It probably paints an unflattering picture, but you're too hungry to really care. Resting on the table, he's stubbornly gripping your hand in his own, fingers intertwined. Even though it made eating much more difficult, Wriothesley would scowl and reach back for your hand whenever you tried to take it away, so you just considered it a lost cause.

Lost in filling your stomach, you're almost don't hear what he says.

"Je ne peux pas imaginer le reste de ma vie sans toi." Wriothesley mumbles, thumb stroking the back of your hand tenderly.

You narrow your eyes again, a silent question.

Wriothesley just smiles secretively and raises a hand to his mouth, miming zipping up his lips and locking it with a key, then tossing it away. He winks at you, and you roll your eyes. No answers today, apparently.

"Are you ever going to tell me what it is you've been saying?" you ask once you've swallowed your food.

"Mm. Maybe one day. If I feel like it." And he's grinning again— the cheeky one that he wears whenever he one-ups you, that showcases his dimples and his teeth. You kinda want to punch him, but it also makes you remember how handsome he is when he smiles.

"Fine," you grumble, sighing. You busy yourself once more with your food. "Keep your fucking secrets. See if I care." You do. A lot, actually. You're very curious now.

Wriotheley just smiles and lets you eat.

But he slips up, one evening. To be fair, it's late at night after a hard day's work. Both of you are exhausted— a tangled mass of limbs and sheets on your bed, both of you halfway asleep already.

Your head is cushioned on his chest, nose pressed against his collarbone, and his arms wrapped around you. Wriothesley's nose is pressed into the crown of your head, breathing in the smell of your hair. His breaths are deep and slow, and you can tell without even looking that his eyes are fighting to stay awake. You're no better, though.

Just before you nod off though, you can feel the brush of his lips against your hair. "Je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement," he says quietly, lips brushing the strands in affection. If you had just been the slightest bit more asleep, you might not have even heard it.

But while you may not be fluent in his language, may know little else aside from the most basic of phrases, you recognize that one. It's hard not to, when it's arguably one of the most popular phrases from his mother tongue. Je t'aime. I love you.

Something gooey finds its way into your chest, and the blood rushes through your body as you're overcome by the sheer sweetness of the man you're laying on. Slowly, you crane your neck up to face him, and can see the slight widening of his eyes, the quiet oh shit that runs through his head.

"Is that what you've been saying?" you ask, voice just as quiet as his. Wriothesley hesitates, arms tightening their hold on you.

"... generally, yes."

You smile gently, scooching up enough to press a kiss to his jaw, then to his lips, giggling when he leans down to make it easier for you. You bury your head into his neck then, resting your cheek against him. "I love you too, Wrio."

Translations:

Tu me rends si heureux. — You make me so happy. Je ne peux pas imaginer le reste de ma vie sans toi. — I can't imagine the rest of my life without you. Je t'aime. Je t'aime tellement. — I love you. I love you so much

[lapis-caeli]

Could you Do souya kawata from tokyorevengers if he has a crush on the reader??

My god! This is our firts ask with a reader insert! I hope you like it hehe

As usual, we'll have this headcanon in spanish and english for a better reading for you dear readers!

I imagine Angry as someone who would never openly show interest in finding love.

Deep down, though, I think he’d be a true hopeless romantic.

I feel like you met him purely by chance. Maybe you were a classmate or just someone who happened to cross paths with him and his brother at their favorite ramen shop.

You probably met thanks to Smiley, who would’ve noticed his brother’s interest and jumped straight into talking to you without hesitation.

Did Angry manage to talk to you? Yes. Did he manage to become friends with you? Yes. Did he want to kill his brother at home out of embarrassment? Absolutely.

He was really shy at the beginning of the friendship; it was his first interaction of this kind. Be patient with him.

I feel like he’s the type to fall in love after a long time and with a lot of trust, the kind who falls for a close friend.

He’d be a mess once he realized he liked you, as if he’d forgotten how to act around you, disappearing for a few days to get his embarrassment under control.

I feel like Smiley would try to advise and help him, but Angry would do everything possible to stop him because he knows Smiley would just tell you directly—because that’s how he is.

Once he’s had time to calm down, he’d be a total sweetheart.

He’d always be there for you, and you’d talk a lot through messages and calls.

He’d be perfect for the emotional moments. I feel like he’s a very empathetic person, so he’d always know the right thing to say and show that you could always count on him during those times.

I think he’d spend a lot of time with you alone, especially to try out new restaurants.

I also see him as the type who’d take advantage of an empty house to invite you over and cook for you. And no one would dare to refuse his delicious homemade ramen!

Among those private moments, I imagine you’d go to places that interest you both. Do you like manga or cosplay? There’s a new convention you could attend together. Is there a movie you want to see premiering at the theater? Grab some cash for popcorn because you’re not missing it.

One of the places Angry would love to go with you is the aquarium. I feel like he loves marine animals and would want to take you to see them with him.

When he knows it’s the right moment to confess, he’d get really nervous. His friends from ToMan would’ve given him ideas, though not all of them would be good.

In the end, I think he’d settle on a quiet night at home with a perfect dinner. He’d cook your favorite dish, and you’d spend the night peacefully together.

I feel like his confession would be really shy, unable to look you in the eye out of fear, whispering everything he feels for you while his face turns as red as Akkun’s hair.

My conclusion about Angry with his crush is simply "adorable." He’d be so sweet that it’d be impossible to say no to him.

Me imagino a Angry como alguien que nunca se habría interesado en encontrar el amor.

No de forma abierta, en el fondo pienso que sería un verdadero romántico empedernido.

Siento que te conoció de pura casualidad, debías haber sido algún compañere de clase o una persona normal que coincidiera con él y su hermano en su restaurante de ramen favorito.

Os habríais conocido gracias a Smiley, quién habría visto el interés de su hermano y se habría lanzado a hablarte sin pensárselo dos veces.

¿Angry consiguió hablar contigo? Sí. ¿Consiguió que fuerais amigos? Sí. ¿Quiso matar a su hermano en casa por vergüenza? Por supuesto.

Fue muy tímido al principio de la amistad, era su primera interacción de ese tipo, dale paciencia.

Siento que es de las personas que se enamoran tras mucho tiempo y confianza, de los típicos que se enamoran de un amigo cercano.

Sería un desastre cuando se da cuenta que le gustas, como si hubiera olvidado como tratar contigo y desapareciera unos pocos días para controlar su vergüenza.

Siento que Smiley intentaría aconsejarlo y ayudarlo, pero Angry haría todo lo posible para detenerlo porque sabe que te lo diría directamente porque él es así.

Cuando ya hubiera tenido su tiempo para tranquilizarse, sería un verdadero amor.

Estaría ahí en todo momento, hablarían muchísimo por mensajes y llamadas.

Para los momentos más emocionales sería perfecto, siento que él es alguien muy empático en realidad, así que siempre sabría que consejo dar y demostraría que siempre puedes recurrir a él en esos momentos.

Siento que quedaría mucho contigo a solas, sobre todo para ir a probar restaurantes nuevos.

También lo veo de los típicos que aprovechan la casa vacía para invitarte y cocinarte. ¡Y nadie se atrevería a rechazar su delicioso ramen casero!

Entre esos momentos a solas pienso que irías a sitios que os interesasen. ¿Te gusta el manga o el cosplay? Hay una convención nueva que podríais ir. ¿Una película que quieres ver se estrena en el cine? Pilla dinero para las palomitas que no os la vais a perder.

Uno de los lugares que a Angry le gustaría ir contigo sería el acuario, siento que le encantan los animales marinos y le gustaría llevarte para que los vieras con él.

Cuando supiera que es el momento para confesarse se pondría muy nervioso. Sus amigos de la ToMan le habrían dado ideas, aunque algunas no sean muy buenas.

Al final creo que se quedaría con la idea de una noche tranquila en casa con una cena perfecta. Cocinaría tu plato favorito y pasaríais la noche tranquilamente.

Siento que su confesión sería muy tímida, sin ser capaz de mirarte por miedo y susurrando todo lo que siente por ti mientras su cara se vuelve igual de roja que el pelo de Akkun.

Mi conclusión sobre Angry con su crush es simplemente "adorable" sería tan lindo que resultaría imposible decirle que no.

- Header and Writing: Mars 💚

[kiwi-on-ice]

Kinktober 2024 day 14: Mirror Sex with Baptiste

fem reader, NSFW 18+

Also contains: dom!Baptiste, fingering, lingerie, creampie

“Ah look at you, such a pretty thing.”

You hear your boyfriend coo in your ear, as you sit on his lap with his broad chest firmly against your back. His hands teasingly run up and down your bare thighs, slinking down to your inner thighs and gently scraping his well manicured nails along the sensitive skin.

But the slightly embarrassed look on your face is what he’s after, as you’re facing the full length mirror that he had installed for this very purpose. Seeing the pretty flush spread along your skin makes his cock rock hard in his jeans, hands deciding to go the step further as he teasingly snaps the elastic of your panties.

“Knew this set would look gorgeous on you amou.” He praises, other hand feeling up to your chest so he can trace the lace that adorns your tits. Having come back from a stressful overwatch mission in Nepal, he’d brought you back a gift in the form of a beautiful lingerie set. You were eager to try it on, but he’d told you to wait. To wait for tonight, where he could truly ravage you.

Now you realise what his aim was, wanting you to see what he sees. In your embarrassment, you shift on his lap which causes your ass to grind against his prominent bulge. He groans, gripping your hips quickly to keep you still.

“Ah ah, not yet precious. This is all about you.”

You whimper softly, before he finally takes a bit of pity on you as his fingers stroke your pussy over your now drenched panties. Feeling the wet material makes his breath catch, but his eyes are firmly on yours in the mirror.

He clicks his tongue when he sees your eyes flutter closed. “Oh baby, please open your eyes. Look how lovely you are. Une si jolie fille.”

“Not fair…” you get out, realising he’s switched from his native tongue to French, knowing how delicious you find it in his rich voice.

He grins teasingly, planting a kiss on the back of your neck. “Just telling the truth, tu ne veux pas que je sois honnête?”

With a shiver, you open your eyes to watch him groping your pussy in the reflection. You buck your hips a little, enjoying the stimulation despite the fact that you’re having to observe yourself getting pleasure. So you try and focus on your lover, his toned arms reaching around you to touch you, his sharp jawline resting on your shoulder before he kisses the junction between your neck and collarbone.

Once he deems you wet enough, or desperate enough, he uses one hand to move the lace to the side before pushes two thick fingers inside your pussy, groaning as he watches you swallow the digits greedily.

“Oh quel spectacle. Needed something in here didn’t you?” He teases, curling his fingers to rub against your g spot. His other hand goes up to circle your nipple with his thumb, causing your back to arch in your lap.

He fucks your pussy diligently with his digits, loving the way you tighten around him. The slick sounds of your cunt combined with the sight of you glazed over expression really makes the ashamed emotion wash over your trembling form.

“Want you to keep watching yourself, okay? Watch yourself as I make you cum.”

You’re not in a position to argue as you nod, keeping your eyes on the way he fingers you. It doesn’t take long before you’re creaming around him, crying out his name desperately as you watch the juices soak his fingers and lap.

With a self satisfied chuckle, he pulls them out before sticking them in your mouth for you to clean, other hand gripping your jaw so you’re forced to watch. “Good girl.”

But it doesn’t stop there, which you quickly find out when he has you bent over the bed, still having the mirror as he enters you from behind. You moan, upper body falling onto the mattress as he starts to thrust rhythmically.

“What have I told you, regarder le miroir.” He demands with a cheeky laugh, hand pulling your hair to make you look at yourself. Your parted lips and dazed expression shows just how fucked out you were getting. With each snap of his hips, a pathetic whimper claws its way from your throat, eyes rolling back for a moment before you do as instructed and watch yourself.

Although each clench of your cunt around his cock makes his moans to grow deeper and more desperate, hips speeding up. He grabs your hand and places it between your legs so you can rub your clit. “si beau, tout pour moi.”

When you cum around him, your cunt seems determined to milk him for all his worth, as he chases his pleasure mercilessly. He thrusts over and over and over again, battering your oversensitive nerves as he babbles about hie good he feels. You hear him revert back to haitian creole, his brain almost turning to mush as he gets lost in the pleasure before he buries himself to the hilt and cums. In that moment though, you’re glad for the mirror in front of you as you were able to see him at the peak of pleasure. His mouth hanging open while the sweat makes his smooth skin shine, from his neck down to his chiseled chest and abs.

As he pulls out, he quickly pushes two fingers inside of you to ensure no cum escapes. At your shocked and pleasured noise, he leans down to kiss down your spine.

“I think you can give me another one.”

[bueckerrss]

si no le contesto - s. golbach

sam x latina ! reader

warnings: cursing in spanish, arguing, drinking. use of pet names.

translations will be provided

————————————————————————-

7 missed calls from mi amor

incoming call mi amor

answer decline

1 new voice message!

play delete

“samuel si no contestas ahora mismo ni siquiera pienses en volver a casa, me estas estresando!”

“Samuel, if you don't answer right now, don't even think about coming home, you're stressing me out!”

6 voice messages remaining

play all delete all

“sam, don't forget to pick up the advil before you get home”

“hey sam, i know you're busy but i wanted to let you know that i just finished the report and that probably when you get home i'll be sleeping be careful ok? i love you”

“sam, i'm getting worried answer your phone”

“samuel, enserio ya deja de jugar y contesta tu telefono”

“samuel, seriously, stop playing and answer your phone”

“oye, sam, ya vente a casa, ya es tarde”

“hey, sam, come home, it's already late”

“samuel contesta tu pinche telefono ahora mismo, que estas haciendo?”

“samuel, answer your fucking phone right now, what are you doing?”

the girl paced back and forth in the living room constantly looking at her phone hoping to see at least a message from her boyfriend but nothing.

samgolbach added to their story.

the girl clicked on the notification slightly sick to her stomach that not once did she get a call back from him but he posts on his story like he was not ignoring her calls a few seconds ago.

instagram opened up to the boys story, it was him at a party the flash from the phones camera being the only source of light shining in the boys face as he held a tequila shot towards the camera before shooting it down his throat making a face as the liquid made its way down.

“he could post but not answer my calls or messages? just great.” she thought. as she was analyzing the video it skipped to the next story colby’s story it was a video some what similars to sam’s but sam was in the background talking to a girl but not just any girl his ex.

they were laughing and drinking together before she grabs his hand and starts taking him upstairs that’s when the video cuts off.

not only did he not answer her calls but now he was cheating on her “wait no sam could never cheat on me he’s not the type” she thought as she sat down on the couch “or is he? no don’t doubt that he’s an amazing boyfriend he would never cheat on me” her thoughts raced as she tried to distract herself.

“think about what they could be doing right now, how hes probably doing everything he does to you” the thoughts had her head spinning.

she couldn’t have these thoughts not at this moment. she made her way into her room deciding to just sleep these thoughts away.

-

after a few minutes of tossing and turning to find a comfortable position to fall asleep in the girl was finally tired enough to let sleep take over.

the low creek of the door opening and closing shuffling and the feeling of the bed sinking behind her woke her up she knew it was him the smell of alcohol and perfume not just any perfume a cheap knock off of her favorite perfume filled her nostrils

“hey honey” spoke sam as he placed his hand on her waist “how was your night did you finish that report for work?” he didnt listen to the voice messages

“si, ya lo terminé trajiste el advil que te pedí?” “no, im sorry babe i forgot” liar “oh really?” she asked not looking at him “yea, the meeting lasted longer than i expected” “is that so?” she sarcastically replied grabbing her phone and heading to her instagram and opening it to his story “because according to you and colby’s stories you were at a party” she showed him the video as she pushed him off her to get up.

“yes, i already finished it, did you bring the advil i asked for?”

“what?” his voice slightly lowered “yea, i saw them didn’t think about restricting me first before posting did you? oh and don’t get me started on the fact that you were talking with your ex in colby’s video or the fact that she took you upstairs”

“babe, that’s not true we didn’t go upstairs” he replied as he got out of the bed “don’t try to lie your way out of this! i saw the video and it clearly shows that you two went upstairs!” she argued.

“y/n, please you know i would never do anything to hurt you!” he exclaimed as he slowly walked towards her “no sam, aver donde te vas a dormir porque aquí en mi casa ni te quiero ver”

“no sam, see where you're going to sleep because here at my house I don't even want to see you”

“what y/n you can’t be serious it’s four in the fucking morning!” “ni modo mi amor hubieras pensado en eso antes de llegar a estas horas oliendo a alcohol y perfume barato” she said as she pushed him out of her apartment closing the door in his face and locking it.

“too bad my love, you should’ve thought about that before arriving at this time smelling of alcohol and cheap perfume”

-

1:30pm

mi güero <3

y/n?

babe i’m so sorry i couldn’t make home last night my flight got delayed and i had no service at all

baby? are you mad at me? i’m sorry for not responding sooner or answering your calls you know if i could i would have please don’t be mad at me.

wait you’re probably still sleeping you most likely finished that report so late last night

yup, you did those voice messages you left i’m sorry i couldn’t answer but i’m already in my uber i have the advil and i’m bringing you your favorite breakfast from your favorite restaurant:)

as sam got off the uber making his way into his girlfriends apartment trying to balance the coffee with the breakfast bag his luggage and his phone he carefully unlocked the door making his way inside.

“y/n, honey it’s time to wake up” he whispered softly shaking the girl awake “huh?” she responded standing up and rubbing her eyes “goodmorning beautiful, go wash up while i go get your food from the kitchen” he smiled as he looked at her lovingly “sam?” “yes baby?” he asked turning to meet her eyes “what are you doing here?” she asked “what do you mean what am i doing here i live here silly” he laughed slightly “wait what” she whispered looking around.

“are you alright babe?” he asked worried going back to kneel down next to her “si estoy bien solo un poco confundida” “why, are you confused love?” he asked looking at her confused written all over her face “weren’t you at a party last night?” she mumbled confused “a party? no i was stuck at the airport in australia last night” he replied pulling out his phone to show her the pictures of him goofy around at the airport with colby.

“that’s weird never mind i think i just had a bad dream” she explained getting up to go get washed up in the bathroom.

i must’ve been dreaming because sam was clearly stuck at the airport with no signal. the things my brain comes up with when he doesn’t answer me.

———————————————————————

this is probably shit but i’ve been super busy with practices and school but i’m on break so imma try to grind and get some stuff i’ve been working on out anyway hope you enjoyed this :)

🏷️: @sturniolobendystrawsposts @hearts4chris @patscorner @lexisecretaccx @tubl-mc @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloblogs @sturniolos-blog

[bellewintersroe]

Hiiii I was listening to music with my dad the other day and the song caballero by Alejando Fernandez came up and all I could do was think about carlos being in love with the gf (reader) of another driver. The song is about respecting the other guy in a way but what if he didn’t and that’s when I thought of secreto de amor by Joan Sebastian it literally says “Delante de la gente no me mires. No suspires no me llames. Aunque me ames. Delante de la gente soy tu amigo. Hoy te digo, que castigo” and i love the idea of carlos trying to be a gentleman like with the first song and then snapping bc he knows reader loves him too and having an affair with her and it being their secret like the second song

You don’t have to write anything I just wanted to get the idea out of my head and I thought I’d share

No I LOVE this, this is so creative honestly thank you for the inbox I appreciate it sm!! I’ve tried to use some Google translate and I got a bit confused (I’m so sorry) but I’ve attempted to write something along the lines of your scenario because I absolutely love it and how angsty it is. I’m not aware of the songs so I apologise if it’s not exactly what you were imagining. Feel free to inbox me again if this is all completely wrong HAHA.

Carlos Sainz x AlonsoGirlfriend! Reader..

warnings: smut, mentions of affair (I’m sorry) hurting feelings, secrecy, jealousy… reader is Spanish but I won’t try butcher the translations.

Desde el día en que te miré Ibas bien acompañada Ibas con él de la mano De repente te reías De reojo me mirabas The champagne Carlos had consumed all night began to weigh heavy on his eyelids, wandering around the room as though he was in a subdued trance. His intoxication was, of course, due to the expensive alcohol he’d drunk excessive amounts of, but deep down Carlos knew there was something else weighing heavily on his sobriety. Her. The dark, olive skin exposed between the risky slit in her black dress, the valley between her breasts, the almost jet black hair that cascaded down her spine- she had him in a trance.

Carlos’ heart tightened, jaw falling a little slack at the sight of you once again. It was movie like. The beautiful girl, gently batting her eyelids at her prince-like boyfriend, and the depressed, drunk man watching from the corner. Alone. Her hands smoothed up over the other man’s creased shirt, flattening the material crisp over the bicep as his hand reached out to curl at the curve of her hip. His finger tips tightened into the flash of her behind. The corners of her red lips turned and she offered him a simple kiss, once on the cheek. Fernando caught her again, this time catching the plump of her lips. Carlos grimaced. That was enough. Carlos had enough of seeing the scene and turned back down to the alcohol in his glass. Simultaneously, she spared a singular glance in Carlos’ direction, one he assumed he was imagining, a deluded sight he could only dream of. No es mi gran amigo él Pero claro lo conozco Y no suelo ser aquel  Que no le importa con quién Trato de ser respetuoso The man that Carlos so desperately wanted to trade places with? Fernando Alonso. His childhood idol, his fellow Spaniard on the grid and good friend, mentor- he was everything Carlos respected and more. Carlos knew better than to sought after a taken lady, especially one of his friends. Fernando was a lucky man, a lucky, lucky man… as soon as they were embracing, did she begin her journey towards Carlos. He felt the tips of his fingers unconsciously dig into his jeans and the swell of his heart speed. Carlos’ eyes fell down her body, her beautiful curves, the sleek of her dress clung to all the right places, hair bouncing with each stride she took. Ay, pero ven tantito Es la única vez que te voy a contar mi secreto Si no tuvieras compromiso, te perdería el respeto

With a sparing glimpse back to an occupied Fernando, busy talking to another young, beautiful woman, Carlos fell to the temptation of the beautiful woman, who was now inching closer to him. She was unearthly, a goddess, and when she offered him a smirk, he had to double take that it was actually aimed towards him. He would risk it all, he knew he would, the brush of her arm against his caused a deep breath to catch in his throat. She offered him a sympathetic smile at the strange noise it created.

“I’m sorry… I’m Carlos.” He cleared his throat, the sound of his voice almost startling him. Her dark eyes fell to the outstretched hand in front of her. In that moment Carlos didn’t know if she wanted to laugh in his face or punch him. He was puzzled by her confused expression.

Slowly, she raised her left hand, the cold metal of a ring touching his own almost making him feel physically sick. “I’m sorry. Im not used to shaking with my left.” She laughed, a soft, gentle kind, one that had Carlos already grinning to himself. She then offered her name, soft hand still embraced within his own. Carlos swore he’d never felt skin as soft as hers. She offered her name, a beautiful one, one in which Carlos repeated.

When their hands retrieved, he noticed the diamond cladded on her ring finger. His teeth ground against one another as they shared a glance at the ring, then back to Fernando.

“I’m Fernando’s-” the woman’s face winced as her eyes gazed over what Carlos now recognised to be her fiancé, with the hand on the waist of another woman. He recognised the the heaviness in her voice, the sigh which escaped her lips sounding almost painful. “-I’m getting another drink. Would you like to join?” Y si no fuera un caballero, te lo juro Te arrancaba de sus brazos sin pensarlo ni un segundo Eres la mujer que más me gusta en el mundo Pero tengo un respeto por ese suertudo

The minutes spent together turned into hours. Hours of uninterrupted conversation and laughter. Carlos felt as though she had captured his heart in a way no woman had before, she was sensual, even in the way she talked, Carlos thought he was imagining things when her gaze fell up and down his front on numerous occasions. She was swift, but flirtatious. Her eyelids were becoming heavier as the night and alcohol effected her. When a hand rested on Carlos’ forearm he had an overwhelming desire to pull her in his arms and spend the whole night with her. Although he recognised his feelings to be beyond lust (which was frightening for Carlos to happen so quickly) he still felt the twitch of his manhood whenever she would hold eye contact, or touch him. Occasionally she would bend forwards, exposing the further curve of her breasts. Carlos pretended not to realise. Y si no fuera un caballero Te robaba, y no un beso, sino toda la semana Para hacerte el amor hasta que te cansaras Pero soy un caballero y mejor Mejor no te digo nada When the night was nearing its end he felt almost desperate to express his feelings, he was almost certain she felt the same. It was bad, he knew it was. He still felt like there was too much respect for Fernando to pull any kind of move on the beautiful lady. God, he was so lucky. So, so lucky.

But it seemed her luckiness had run out, something that broke Carlos’ heart to see her eyes wide and scanning the room for her missing fiancé. “Where has he gone?” Carlos cleared his throat, the first mention of Alonso all night. “Um..” she glanced down to her phone, no notifications, nothing. She recognised the same sickness she felt every time something like this happened with Alonso.

“I think… he’s gone home.” Carlos watched her gulp, sliding her phone back into her clutch, the slight tremble of her fingers causing his brows to furrow. It was as though on instinct that he reached out, steadying her tremor. “I should go.” Her voice barely reached above a whisper, focusing on the gentle hand Carlos had placed on hers. She intended the words to come across more inviting than what they did, fear grasped her too much to speak up. It was now or never.

“I will walk you…” finally, a smile grew on her face. One that Carlos reciprocated as they shared a moment of silence, eyes meeting, speaking a thousand different things that words could not.

Delante de la gente no me mires. No suspires no me llames. Aunque me ames. Delante de la gente soy tu amigo. Hoy te digo, que castigo…

“I need you.” Her soft pants had Carlos writhing up against her body, hips bucking harder into hers. “I needed you all night… Carlos.” All he could do was moan in response, teeth grind in together in pleasure as he pressed his lips onto her cheek bone.

Every breath, every sound, every movement had Carlos feeling like he was driven crazy. And when he watched her slide the ring off her finger, dropping it to the floor below he felt all respect for the other man go out of the window. The sex felt too good, it was lustful, dirty, anything and more that Carlos could have dreamt of. He felt selfish, but at the same time he didn’t care. He wanted her, he needed her, and now he had her.

Her body below his moved in time with his, the bounce of her breasts sending Carlos into a pleasure filled trance. “I needed you.” He managed to tell her back. She was tight around him, wet, it was pure bliss. Carlos could feel his orgasm creeping up on him quicker than anything. He wanted to finish inside her, make her his, claim her as his own and vice versa.

His release was beyond earthly. He almost couldn’t compute the level of pleasure as he collapsed on top body, still squeezing, caressing, stroking her skin and hair. His hips still milked his orgasm as he unloaded his seed deep inside her, arm wrapping under the warmth of her body and holding closer and tighter than before, sealing a promise that he would never let her go, and keep her as his own…

[nixii-sabre]

did i mention how much i hate this guy

[love1mang0]

Lose a Friend (FC43)

inspired by "Lose a Friend" by Mikayla Geier

Listen!

warnings: I don't think there are any

You guys met each other because you're in a popular Argentinian band, and even though you’re from (your country), you grew up in Argentina. You´re a fan of Formula One so you went to a race to support Franco, and he was also a fan of you, well more than just a fan, you were his celebrity crush.

He went to one of your concerts before, well a lot more than one, he was in F2 and it took you months for you to acknowledge his existence which happened when he took the step to F.

He loved that you were there to support him when he saw you at the race, he couldn't even believe it, YOU knew about HIM, to him you were so pretty and cute and talented, he was just down bad.

You guys met at the race and became good friends, you were in the studio preparing a new album with your friends/bandmates, and then you got a text from Franco.

Franco: ¿Estás libre hoy? (are you free today?)

(Y/N): sisisi. (yesyesyes)

Franco: ¿está bien si te busco para cenar? (Is it ok if I pick you up for dinner?)

Your bandmates found out you were texting someone.

Bandmate 1: eyyy escribiéndole a quien? (Who are you texting?)

Friend: probablemente al novio. (probably her boyfriend)

(Y/N): ni tengo. (I don’t have a boyfriend)

Friend: bueno tu quieres que lo sea (well you want him to be your boyfriend)

Bandmate 2: chuzo te gusta alguien (Y/N)? (damn (Y/N) you got a crush?)

(Y/N): no… 

Bandmate1: aha si como no (yeah right)

(Y/N): Les juro que no, el solo es un amigo (I swear I don’t! he's just a friend.)

At dinner, you were waiting for Franco to pick you up, in Franco’s mind this was a date, he was taking a risk, and he was falling in love and he didnt want you two to start dating just for the friendship to fall apart.

Franco: hola! Te ves divina

(Y/N): gracias, tu también

The dinner went amazing, you both shared some embarrassing stories from when you were kids and then Franco realized that he never actually told you it was a date, so he decided to keep his mouth shut about the whole romance thing.

A few months passed and when you two were alone it was comfortable, something that you often didnt think about being with a guy, since your past experiences weren't that good, but the more you hung around with Franco you started liking him, then, when you were with everyone it was like you were sworn to be secret, purely platonic, in the ends that what you were right? Good friends… 

One day Franco got sick of you only seeing him as a friend so he called you to come over to his hotel room, when you arrived you knocked on the door, he opened it and then you asked him.

(Y/N): so what’s up? Everything ok?

Franco: no I- I just do I have to spell out the way I feel about you?

(Y/N): how do you feel about me? Franco: ok I'm going to ramble so just listen ok? You nod, agreeing to listen to him first.

Franco: ok well I know we are good friends and all but I see you more as a friend ok? I know that it could end and we'd damage our friendship but (Y/N) I genuinely like you, you are amazing in every way, you’re not afraid to admit when you've messed up or when you need help, and I'm aware that we could start to slip and fall and that you may want someone else, but I just wanted you to know

You pull him closer and you wonder if it'd be worth it to maybe lose a friend…

Let me know what else you would want to see me write, I'm still kinda new to this but I will try my best.

[slytherinsrule89]

Hello! How are you?

Are your request still open?

If so may i please request Slytherin x reader where she speaks an other language?

(French maybe👀)

Could be like they are having a fight and she tell them off in her language

Or

She confess that she has a crush on them in a letter writting in her language cause she is too shy to admit it face to face

Thank you so much 🤭💋

Hello lovely! Thank you so much for the request I think it’s very cute ☺️

Tom

Let’s admit it, Tom is scary. So when you realized that you had a crush on him you shocked yourself.

You wanted to tell him but you also didn’t want to get hexed or something. Even if he wouldn’t hex you, you’d be way too shy to say something.

The most logical thing you could think of was to write him a note in your native language. French.

It was later at night when you sent it and you hadn’t really expected to get a reply. He’d probably think it was to the wrong person or something.

It wasn’t much later when you heard a knock on the door and assumed it was your roommate who forgot her key.

Your eyes went a bit wide when you saw Tom standing in front of you.

“Si tu voulais admettre une telle chose, il aurait mieux valu que tu me le dises en face, poupée.”

The comment made you blush but Merlin you should’ve realized he’d know French.

Blaise

You and Blaise were in a petty argument about something both of you probably forgot. It was getting to the point that you guys were bringing up the most random things that have happened.

As it went on your frustration grew and without even realizing it you switched to a different language.

“Blaise, c'est absolument ridicule! Nous ne savons même plus pourquoi nous nous battons!”

You were a language nerd and when you were learning a new language it would be so much in your head that you’d sometimes speak it without realizing.

Blaise’s voice was cut off immediately as he looked at you in shock.

“Ma I have no idea what you just said but whatever it is I agree and I’m gonna shut up.”

He took you by the waist and pulled you onto the bed snuggling you close as the argument was resolved.

Theo

Theo and you had been bickering all day to each other and both of your friends were getting tired of it.

They tricked you into being in the same room as each other then locked the door. Blaise claimed he’d seen it work a million times in muggle movies.

There had been a long line of pure silence before you guys started talking. Unfortunately springing up another argument but not as bad as the last.

Trying to explain something to him, Theo cut you off and started yelling in Italian.

Sure it was hot but you wouldn’t let him win the argument. “C'est toi qui parles Theo, tu fais exactement la même chose!”

Both of you stayed quiet for a moment, taking deep breaths as you calmed down.

“Wow bella, didn’t know you spoke French, gonna let me hear more?”

Your anger completely dissipated then as he pushed you to the wall kissing you deeply.

Mattheo

It wasn’t completely uncommon for you two to be fighting and most people knew that. But somehow you always bounced back.

This one was getting a bit out of control though. Mattheo had been getting into a lot more fights and drinking more and it was worrying you.

“Merlin y/n I can’t be perfect all the time!” He shouted.

“Je ne te demande pas d'être parfait Mattheo, personne ne l'est ! Mais je m'inquiète pour toi et je voulais juste m'assurer que tu allais bien ! Je ne peux pas risquer de te perdre de quelque manière que ce soit !” You spoke emotionally.

Mattheos face went blank as he looked at you. He wasted no time hugging you tightly not wanting to let go.

“I have no idea what you just said princess but I’m sorry, I don’t mean to upset you.”

You both calmed down after a bit and laid down in bed quickly falling asleep in each other's arms.

Enzo

You had had a crush on Enzo practically all your life. The only problem was that he never seemed to settle down and date someone for a long time which worried you.

The more you tried pushing down every thought you felt for him though the stronger they seemed to come back to you.

To fed up with it, you decided to just come clean with him. Well sort of.

You wrote him a love confession and sent it to him but it was written in French, a language you knew very well.

During potions Enzo was paired with you for the next project. As you both listened to the professor drown on about what you were supposed to do for it he slid you a note.

“Tu sais que je t'aime bien aussi. La jolie dame voudrait-elle se joindre à moi pour un rendez-vous dans un beau restaurant?” The note read.

You panicked a little as you saw the French but quickly lighted when you read it and agreed happily as he smiled.

Hope you enjoy :)

[useless-catalanfacts]

Hehehe.... Here's a post I think you people will like.

A while ago, I was asked about Catalan swear words. I answered it and I explained how very often we say "I shit on ..." and gave some examples. You can find that post here:

Yesterday, someone in Catalan Twitter tweeted asking what are your favourite swearings, and I think you might like to hear what people answered. So here it goes!

Així plogués tant, que els ànecs arribessin a mossegar els collons de Déu! = This way may it rain so much that ducks could reach to bite God's bollocks.

Així baixi una olla del cel, amb el cap de Déu per tapadora! = This way may a cooking pot fall from Heaven/sky with God's head as the lid!

Cagum tots los sants posats en un bocoi amb Déu per tap! = I shit on all the saints placed inside a hogdhead (large cask barrel) with God as the lid!

Cagum la veta del capdavall de la cama dreta de les calces del pagès que va plantar la primera fava que va menjar l'ase que va dur la Mare de Déu a Egipte! = I shit on the ribbon of the lowest part of the right leg of the trousers of the farmer who planted the first bean that was eaten by the donkey that took the Virgin Mary to Egypt!

Cagum Sant Hilari i tots els sants del calendari, i si em deixés algun per dir, me cagum la mare que el va parir. = I shit on Saint Hilarius and all the saints on the calendar; and if I had missed saying any of them, I shit on the mother that gave birth to them. (But in Catalan it rhymes).

Cagum Déu i el que portava la creu, i el que la va fer que era fuster = I shit on God and the guy who carried the cross, and the guy who made it who was a carpenter (in Catalan it rhymes) or Cagum Déu, la creu i el fuster que la feu = I shit on God, the cross, and the carpenter who made it (also rhymes).

Em cago en els quatre puntals que aguanten la cagadora de Déu = I shit on the four stakes that hold up God's shitting hole. (Maaaany people have said this one or variations of it)

Em cago en la puta que va arribar a parir el paleta que va fer les quatre pilastres que aguantaven la cagadora de Déu i tots els sants = I shit on the whore who reached the point of giving birth to the bricklayer who built the four pilars what held up the shitting hole of God and all the saints.

Cagum Sant Roc, el gos i la mare que els va parir tots dos = I shit on Saint Roch, the dog, and the mother who gave birth to both.

Me cago en la tita del dimoni porc = I shit on the pig demon's dick.

Cago'n la sang d'un banc i el fetge d'una cadira coixa = I shit on a bench's blood and a lame chair's liver.

Em cago en els claus dels peus de Cristu crucificat = I shit on the screws/nails on crucified Christ's feet.

Em cago en l'ou que va fer la gallina que va servir per fer el caldo de la Mare de Déu quan era partera = I shit on egg that was laid by the chicken that was used to make the broth for the Virgin Mary when she had just given birth.

Me cagum Satanàs clavat dalt d'un cirerer = I shit on Satan nailed to the top of a cherry tree.

Mal davallés el secretari de Déu, vestit de torero = Wouldn't God's secretary come down, dressed as a bullfighter.

What swearings do you say when something goes wrong? In my house, the most common one is a simple one: collons de mico (monkey bollocks).

[dirtyvulture]

Natasha Romanoff x Male!Witcher!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by Yuni on Ao3: (Translated from French on Google translate, original request below) Hi, I really like your work and was wondering if you can do a The Witcher style male Natasha x Reader covered in scars (one of which is across his face) and tattoos, a mass of muscles and the rest as a result 😳 😅, who returns from the fight and finds Natasha. To this follows a well-deserved part of legs in the air 😆😜. Thank you if you accept, good continuation. (My apologies for so many details)

AN: I've never watched The Witcher, so thanks to @mostlymarvelsstuff for educating me lol.

Original request: Bonjour, j'aime beaucoup votre travail et je me demandais si vous pouvez faire un Natasha x Reader masculin du style The Witcher couvert de cicatrices (dont une lui barre le visage) et de tatouages, une masse de muscles et le reste en conséquences 😳😅, qui revient du combat et retrouve Natasha. À cela suit une partie de jambes en l'air bien méritée 😆😜. Merci si vous acceptez, bonne continuation. (Mes excuses pour tant de détails)

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

You shove your shoulder into your door one final time that almost knocks it off its hinges as you stumble into your room. You throw your sword onto the carpet and have the urge to fall with it until you see Natasha Romanoff waiting on your bed for you.

"Nat?" you ask, fighting against the exhaustion seeping into your bones. "What are you doing here?"

"Here to congratulate you after another successful battle," she says. "I already got your bath ready for you--"

"You didn't have to." While part of you is grateful for her help, you also like to maintain your independency and don't like to be waited on very much.

"Come on," she beckons, standing up and offering her hand. You have no energy left to argue and follow her into the bathroom, where true to her word, the enormous wooden basin is filled with steaming water.

You turn around to let Natasha help you remove off your several layers of armor and clothing. Some of it is splattered with your opponents blood, some of it yours, although you had hardly been injured in the fight. Natasha's hand lingers on your chest, tracing the shell of the wolf medallion hanging around your neck. Her hand travels down your ribs, where you have a thin slash from a sword.

"Let me get you a bandage for that," she says, darting off while you stand there naked, taking a moment to admire your reflection in the mirror. The years of hunts had taken a visible toll on your body, with scars littering your torso and limbs. There is a ragged chunk of missing flesh on your left thigh and claw marks raking across your chest to your stomach. Your most prominent scar could not be easily hid with clothing because it was on your face, crossing your left eye from your forehead to your cheek. But despite the damage from an innumerable amount of fights, you were of good health and strongly built, with sculpted muscles that put most men to shame.

Natasha returns with a bandage and some ointment, but requests that you wash off the blood and dirt in the tub first. You are happy to oblige, slipping into the warm water and closing your eyes in bliss as the heat loosens your muscles.

Natasha conjures up a rag and a bar of soap, wetting both and rubbing them together until a white lather appears. You sit back and let her wash your face, arms, and chest, taking the washcloth from her to finish what's left under the water. She eyes you hungrily as you wash yourself, almost like she's jealous she doesn't get to do it herself.

"You'll get your turn," you promise as you drain the tub of the dirty water. Natasha fills a bucket to present you with clean water to rinse off with, and when you're done you stand up, dripping water onto the ground and Natasha not-so-subtly clenches her legs together.

You go back to the bedroom, allowing her to clean and bandage the cut on your side, and even after that she's still looking at you like she wants to devour you.

"Nat," you say, finally ready to give in to her.

"Hold on. Drink this." Out of nowhere, she conjures up a flask carrying a bright-red liquid and holds it out to you.

"Will this heal me?" you ask, hesitant from the potion's flashy color.

"Yes," Natasha says with a grin, "And it'll help you last longer."

It takes a moment for you to understand what she's referring to, but you eagerly down the potion, cringing at the harsh taste. It doesn't make you feel any different at first, but then a hot warmth spreads to your groin and you realize it's because Natasha's taken your cock in her hands and starts stroking you slowly.

You crawl back on the bed, spreading your legs to allow her to join you. She takes off her own multiple layers of clothing, climbing on top of you and rubbing her bare chest against yours. Her nipples are already hard and you grope her breasts roughly. She arches into you and moans, and you hike your hips up to rub your cock along her smooth thighs.

"Fuck, Y/N," she murmurs, her hands roaming your body as much as yours are on hers. Natasha loves the way your muscles shift and flex under her touch. She can practically feel the individual muscle fibers in your chest straining and popping and your thighs are rock-solid underneath hers.

Her nails dig into the curve of your biceps, trying to keep you pinned down, but of course her strength is no match for yours. You wrap your arms around her waist, flipping her over in one motion and kissing her fiercely. You feel her hands grab at your medallion, then going down your sides and gripping onto your muscular butt to guide your hips.

"Inside," she begs. "I need you."

"Not yet," you tease, rolling your hips slowly so the tip of your cock teases her entrance. But you don't think she's wet enough for you, and with your size, you don't want to hurt her by pushing in too early. Besides, it's fun to tease her.

"Please, please," she begs, widening her legs until you can see her glistening center.

You push two fingers into her and curl them against her front wall; she moans loudly and drops her head back into the pillows. Your cock hardens even more at the thought of her walls clenching around you like that. You roll your thumb over her clit a few times, pumping your fingers in and out, until her thighs are trembling and she's panting and gasping for your cock.

"Now you're ready," you announce, taking her thighs in your large hands and pressing them into the bed, holding them wide apart. You position yourself at your entrance and slide right in, moaning at the heat that clenches at you.

"Oh fuck, Nat," you grunt, overwhelmed by the urge to cum immediately, but you feel something in your stomach tighten, preventing you from release. Knowing this is the work of her potion but not sure how long it will last, you start thrusting in long, hard strokes, filling Natasha and pulling out until you see your tip wet with her juices.

"Yes, yes, just like that," Natasha moans, squirming on the bed as you hold her down and jack your hips into hers.

"You feel like perfection," you say, savoring the feeling of her silky walls dragging up and down your throbbing cock. You know when you finally get to cum, you're going to fill her to the brim.

"So do you," she says, trying to sit up and grab onto your broad shoulders to steady yourself with as the bedframe starts to shudder violently from your motions.

"When can I cum?" you ask, as if she holds that much control over you.

"After I do," she replies with a sly grin.

"Okay." You start to thrust even harder, your abs starting to burn from the effort. "Tell me when," you add, noticing her tensing up beneath you. You feel like you're ready to topple over the edge, but no matter how deeply you thrust into Natasha, you just can't reach the peak.

"I'm gonna cum!" Natasha squeaks, her nails digging into your muscles.

You don't stop thrusting even as she's gushing around you, the slickness aiding your strokes, and finally when her body stops convulsing, your cock pumps cum straight into her womb. The orgasm is so intense and sudden you think you pass out for a moment, finding yourself lying on top of Natasha in a sticky heap.

"Oh no, I am so sorry, Natasha--" you say, trying to push away from her but she locks her legs around your hips so you can't pull out.

"Stay," she says, enjoying the warmth of your body on top of her and the fullness of your cock inside her.

"As you wish," you say, in no mood to argue with her now and shifting to get comfortable.

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AN: This was fun to write! Thanks for the request!

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[owl-falls-au]

An eternal agony... | Owl Falls AU

Inspired by redseas07's video

IN ENGLISH

What would you do if you could never die...? At least not permanently...

They think it was easy for Stan to survive on the boiling islands, but the reality is that it was not like that...

For Stan, surviving the boiling islands is like a purgatory of monsters and beasts waiting for him to let his guard down so they can kill him...

Oh, but that wouldn't be bad, on the contrary, death was welcome if he wanted to take him to hell...

Anything to avoid returning and repeating the experience over and over again...

But... How would this be possible?

Eda has remedies for everything, including one that reverses the effects of wounds, injuries, and even death, all with the condition that it must be applied within 5 minutes.

So... That, coupled with the multiple threats of the boiling islands... And Stan being a constant magnet for anomalies in this universe...

I think you understand what I mean...

Eda won't let her little brother die at the hands of the beasts of her world, not without doing something about it... And she won't care if Stan suffers after each return...

What would you do in Stan's place?

Will you learn to love and accept it, or will you continue to try and fail to break free?

Extract from the song: Moribund - Redseas07

One life, just one life is enough for me...

To take and what will we see?

Fly high, just for us to be...

Taking us high, not free.

Crumpled, and thrashed, aspree

What else will you take from me?

Ripped apart

Broken heart

But broken hearts can't be mended

Once they are torn.

I guess I'm reborn...

I don't want to be

I hate treading these floors

I hate this fever dream.

The birds and their tweets

The dinner bell seethes

Monsters eat me, repeat me

Again and again.

I just want to leave here

I want this to end.

I wish

I could be myself again

I wish i could run away.

But this is my fate, oh so it will say

Again and again and again they'll play

One life, two lives

It was enough for me

Three lives, four lives

What is the end for me?

Five lives, scream out

Into the void of space...

Feel it's breath

On your neck

The teeth

On your face...

EN ESPAÑOL

¿Qué harías si nunca pudieras morir...? Al menos, de manera permanente...

Creen que fue fácil para Stan sobrevivir en las islas hirvientes, pero la realidad es que no fue así...

Para Stan, sobrevivir a las islas hirvientes es como un purgatorio de monstruos y bestias que esperan que baje la guardia para matarlo...

Oh, pero eso no sería malo, al contrario, la muerte era bienvenida si quería llevárselo al infierno...

Todo con tal de no regresar y repetir la experiencia una y otra vez...

Pero... ¿Como sería posible esto?

Eda tiene remedios para todo, incluido uno que revierte los efectos de heridas, lesiones e incluso la muerte, todo con la condición de que debe aplicarse en 5 minutos.

Entonces... Eso, sumado a las múltiples amenazas de las islas hirvientes... Y que Stan es un imán constante para las anomalías en este universo...

Creo que entiendes lo que quiero decir...

Eda no dejará que su hermanito muera a manos de las bestias de su mundo, no sin hacer algo al respecto... Y no le va a importar si Stan sufre tras cada regreso...

¿Tú qué harías en el lugar de Stan?

¿aprenderás a amarlo y aceptarlo, o seguirias intentando y fracasando para liberarte?

Extracto de la canción: Moribund - Redseas07

Una vida, solo una vida es suficiente para mí

Para tomar y ¿qué veremos?

Volar alto, solo para que seamos

Llevándonos alto, no libres.

Arrugado y golpeado, juerga

¿Qué más me quitarás?

Desgarrado

corazón roto

Pero los corazones rotos no se pueden reparar

Una vez que se convierten.

Supongo que renazco...

No quiero ser

Odio pisar estos pisos

Odio este sueño febril.

Los pájaros y sus trinos

La campana de la cena ve

Los monstruos me comen, me repiten

Una y otra vez.

Solo quiero irme de aquí

Quiero que esto termine.

Deseo...

poder volver a ser yo mismo

Deseo poder escapar.

Pero este es mi destino, oh, eso dirá

Una y otra y otra vez jugarán.

Una vida, dos vidas

Fue suficiente para mí

Tres vidas, cuatro vidas

¿Cuál es el final para mí?

Cinco vidas, grita

Hacia el vacío del espacio...

Siente su aliento

En tu cuello

En los dientes

En tu cara...