#por Messi y por todos

[berry-s0da]

Aprovechando que tocaste el tema, lo del Maligno fue uno de los "ysi papi qué te sorprende ahora??" más grandes.

Por un lado entiendo porque se hizo tan el chupa p: necesitaba guita y creyó encontrar a alguien en quien confiar.

Por el otro: no podes ser tan inocente, pibe. O sea, lo siento mucho pero no te dejes dar vuelta tan fácilmente, pone algo de resistencia. Cuestiona un poquito más las cosas

Viste, es que tienen esas cosas algunas personas, una debilidad muy grande por fraternizar o recibir aprobación de parte de gente poderosa (o de líderes de opinión de un buen calibre). Es medio patético y generalmente de boludo.

En la cúspide del chupapijismo tenes al Kun que se la pasa lustrándole las bolas al degenerado este a ver si lo favorece en algún momento. Ese es mucho menos inocente.

[flash56-chase05]

¿Que ya han pasado más de tres meses desde que terminó el Mundial? Sí. Pero, ¿que esta idea me lleva rondando desde la cena de Navidad y no había dado con la forma de plasmarla hasta este momento? En efecto.

Y prima más que llegue la inspiración que el hecho de que ya a nadie le importen estos hechos.

.

Irlanda, en el partido Inglaterra-Francia del último Mundial, apoyaba sin duda a Francia. ¿Por qué habría alguna duda, teniendo en cuenta que era el que se había ganado a pulso el apodo de peor hermano del mundo contra uno de sus aliados naturales?

Celebró que el primer gol lo marcase el equipo francés —aunque luego lo maldijese cuando Inglaterra tuvo una oportunidad para quedar empate—, y mascó la desesperación del equipo de su hermano y de este cuando llegó el segundo.

En el momento en el que terminó el partido, se levantó del sofá de un salto y le gritó una serie de maldiciones en gaélico a la televisión antes de recoger su móvil del reposabrazos y mandar un mensaje de celebración a Francia.

España había estado clavado en el otro extremo de sofá, sin mediar palabra durante todo el partido. Sus ojos habían estado saltando entre la pantalla e Irlanda a lo largo de los más de cien minutos que había durado.

Hacía un esfuerzo por alzar sus comisuras cada vez que Irlanda alzaba sus brazos, esbozaba aquella sonrisa presuntuosa y llevaba sus ojos hacia él. Esta de inmediato resoplaba y se volvía a dejar caer sobre el colchón, con un murmullo al que él no quería darle respuesta.

Se había pasado la mano por la frente en varias ocasiones, encontrándose siempre con aquel sudor frío.

Por supuesto, por simple cercanía, debería querer que ganase Francia en vez de Inglaterra. Sin embargo, el siquiera pensar en aquella posibilidad causaba una presión en su pecho.

(¿En qué momento Portugal había decidido perder y dejarlo en aquella encrucijada?).

Aunque, si algo tenía claro, era que Inglaterra no podía ganar. Por el bien del ánimo de Irlanda durante el resto del Mundial, que se comería las uñas y recurriría a todo tipo de ritos para que su hermano perdiese y no consiguiese el puesto de campeón.

Pero, ¿por qué tenía que ganar Francia? ¿Por qué ese partido necesitaba un vencedor y un perdedor? ¿Por qué debía ser la vida tan injusta?

España no se levantó del sofá cuando el partido terminó, sino que se limitó a frotarse la frente con los dedos y soltar un hondo suspiro.

—¿Qué te pasa ahora con Francia? —masculló Irlanda.

Casi podía verla con sus brazos en jarras y su nariz fruncida.

España chasqueó la lengua, sin alzar los ojos de su regazo.

—Sabes que no me termina de gustar que gane —musitó, y se reclinó para recoger el móvil del cristal de la mesa en la que tenía apoyados sus pies.

—Le acaba de ganar a Inglaterra.

Él se encogió de hombros y alzó su rostro hacia Irlanda.

Esta se encontraba justo como se lo imaginaba, y hubiese esbozado una sonrisa si su vista no se hubiese desviado hacia la pantalla tras ella, que no hacía más que mostrar el corrillo de jugadores franceses que no hacían más que abrazarse y jalear.

Casi podía atisbar la sonrisa de Francia, con sus labios fruncidos y sus cejas arqueadas de una manera que le hacía desear que hubiese perdido.

Y a la vez no, porque Inglaterra era... No era peor, pero a la vez sí. Inglaterra se merecía llevar casi sesenta años sin ganar ningún Mundial de fútbol, y mucho más teniendo en cuenta cómo se ponía cuando vencía en cualquier otra competición.

(Italia había sido una verdadera bendición hacía unos años).

Pero el mundo tampoco podía soportar que Francia ganase dos mundiales seguidos.

—Ya, pero...

Irlanda gruñó y se inclinó para agarrar el cuello de su botella de cerveza, para después bordear la mesa y el sofá a un ritmo furioso. Él apenas soltó más que un suspiro al escuchar el portazo a sus espaldas.

España sabía que ella tampoco soportaría el espectáculo de Francia durante los siguientes cuatro años si volvía a vencer. Y mucho menos cuando le había confesado que había estado a punto de reventarle una botella en la cabeza a las pocas horas de su victoria anterior.

Suspiró mientras apartaba sus pies de la mesa y llevaba sus ojos hacia el teléfono. Apretó sus labios y arrastró su dedo por la pantalla, debatiéndose en si desbloquearlo o no.

Al final lo tiró sobre los cojines del lado de Irlanda y se volvió a hundir en el respaldo del sofá.

—¿Quieres otra cerveza? —La voz amortiguada de Irlanda interrumpió por un momento sus pensamientos. España se arrastró hacia el borde del sofá y se puso de pie tras varios segundos—. España...

—Sí, sí, voy —respondió, a la vez que colocaba su mano sobre el pomo de la puerta.

Más le valía a Argentina no permitir que algo tan horrible ocurriese...

[starrynightsoversunflowers]

Denuncié como 50 páginas de pinterest porque habían publicado mis diseños de la selección argentina. Y ni un reconocimiento de nada. Después en todos lados las descargan y las venden sin darme un peso

[lorasdolly]

Ambessa x a bilingual reader who will literally cuss her out in Spanish? 😭 like we take no shit and will go off on her 👀

𝚈𝙾 𝚅𝙾𝚈 𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚜a 𝚡 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Ambessa never imagined the day she'd allow somebody to humble her. She never imagined anyone would even dare to do it. Yet, the day she met you, unrelenting and stubborn, she had to bend to your liking. Without you even having to ask. It felt nearly mandatory, when you shouted something she hardly understood.

If you said jump, she'd ask "how high?".

Right now, Ambessa was on the way home to the Medarda Estate. You were cooking for her, the aroma spreading throughout the house. You were glad she'd come home so you two could finally have some quality time. The plan was to eat dinner and cuddle till you both fell asleep, but it was rearranged by Ambessa's mood.

She got home later than usual, hair disheveled and top buttons from her shirt undone. You walked to the front door, eager to greet her but when you wrapped her arms around her and didn't get an embrace in return, you knew something was up.

Your hands retreated, a small pout gracing your lips in confusion, hands on your hips. "What? Why are you acting this way?" You spoke bluntly, taking in the sight. "Can't I require some space?" She spoke rhetorically, causing a scoff to leave your parted lips.

"Quien puso un palo en tu fondillo," you grumbled under your breath, deciding to leave the situation alone. Ambessa wasn't on the same page though, following after you as you walked away, grabbing your jawline angrily. "Watch the tone. And speak to me so I could understand instead of acting cowardly," She demanded, watching you narrow your vision.

"Vete para la pinga." You replied with an eye roll, Ambessa releasing your jawline and walking away. She decided to shower and hopefully cool off, yet you were already ticked off by how irritable she was. Her shuffled steps were cut off once she took in the mess of laundry in your shared bedroom, the laundry you stopped doing to focus on the dinner.

You followed after her, averting your gaze when realizing how truly messy the room was. "...oops?" You mumbled, pursing your lips and hoping she wouldn't be too mad about it. But her expression took away all hope, her fists clenching at her sides "I come home after working all damn day just to a mess and a bitchy wife?"

You scoff at her description, "What the hell is wrong with you, Ambessa!" Her vulgarity wasn't nearly as terrible as yours when you were upset, but the way she directed it was unacceptable within your mind. She got closer, towering over you. "Me? Take a look at this bedroom and then tell me who has the issue." She gestures towards the mess.

"I was busy making us dinner!" You yelled and she was quick with a response, "You had all damned day!" You stepped back at her yelling. The anger behind her eyes had your palm itching to make contact with her face, you were too hardheaded to accept what she was saying and properly explain.

"Lo juro por Dios, nunca sé qué te hace pensar que podrías hablar conmigo así!" You shouted in return after a moment of silence, voice bouncing off the walls. "Pasé todo el día haciendo mierda por ti y la única vez que me equivoco, me estás gritando?"

She understood snippets of what you said, ultimately having an idea of the sentences. Ambessa sighed, having the urge to banter on but she knew that she'd end up relenting. "Clean this mess up." She stated, walking to leave the room and hearing the angry noises that you huffed and puffed.

"Hazlo entonces tu, hija de la gran puta!" You shouted, not done arguing as you threw an article of clothing at her head. She mumbled heatedly at a whisper, words inaudible as she stomped to the pile of clothes and crouched. She was like an angry puppy yet still following orders. Yet, she wouldn't like the idea of calling them orders, she'd call them favors.

You huffed, walking out the bedroom door and slamming it behind you. Your shuffled steps reached the kitchen, reheating dinner since you didn't want all your plans to be ruined. You working on serving the plates, making them visually pleasing and putting them on the table.

Ambessa, humiliated, enters the luxurious dining room, staring at the plates and utensils. "Want to try again?" You whispered under your breath, hands behind your back and the apron falling off your shoulder. Ambessa's jaw unclenched, muscles releasing any unnecessary tension. She cradled your face, softer this time, and briefly pressed a kiss against yours.

"Yeah. I'd prefer to pretend as if that never happened." She murmured, thumb caressing your cheek with upmost tenderness. A grin fell upon your lips, kissing once again feverishly. Ambessa's hands tangled in your hair, returning the kiss and slipping her tongue past your parted lips.

She massaged the supple skin of your hips, pelvis pressed against yours. She broke the kiss swiftly, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. "Will the food be hardly as good as this, dearest?" She spoke gently, stepping away and pulling your seat out for you.

"Adivina," You pressed her with an eye roll.

TRANSLATIONS;

-> Quien puso un palo en tu fondillo; who put a stick up your 4ss

-> Vete para la pinga; go f!ck yourself

-> Lo juro por Dios, nunca sé qué te hace pensar que podrías hablar conmigo así; I swear to God, I never know what makes you think that you can talk to me like that

-> Pasé todo el día haciendo mierda por ti y la única vez que me equivoco, me estás gritando; I spend all day doing shit for you and the one time I mess up, you yell at me

-> Hazlo entonces tu, hija de la gran puta; you do it then, son of a b1tch

-> Adivina; take a guess

[pedrithink]

dream family ✩ pedri gonzalez

couple: pedri x reader! messi

request: im on my knees begging for a messi reader x pedri 🙏🏼 soc med au or oneshot i will take what i can get

face claim: olivia grivas

NOW: Inter Miami CF Press Conference | Lionel Messi

comments ⬇️

user1 messi showing all his support for pedri's relationship with his daughter, how nice to see him so happy enjoying life with his family.

user2 it’s actually a tragedy that we won’t get to see Messi and Pedri play together again, pretty sure that yn would love to watch this masterpiece too. her boyfriend with her father 🔥

user3 for messi, pedri is one of the best talents in world football. they enjoyed looking for each other in the short time they played together.

user4 @user3 bring them back please 😭

user5 messi's children are everything to him, so if he supports this relationship it's because he trusts pedri 🥺

pedri has added to their story

ynmessi

Liked by pedri, leomessi, and 3.772.872 others

ynmessi miami days with mom and dad 💕✨ estoy tan orgullosa de vós, papá. te quiero muchísimo! gracias por todo lo que has hecho por mí y no sabes la inspiración que sos para mí. 💗💖💕💞

View all 10.772 comments

antonelaroccuzzo mi niña hermosa, la mas linda y buena ❤️❤️ te queremos muchooooo 🥰❤️❤️

ynmessi @antonelaroccuzzo te quiero, má 💖

leomessi te quiero hija 😘❤️

ynmessi te quiero, pá 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

user1 your father is a LEGEND

user2 yn, what brand are your pants and top?

pedri 😍😍

ynmessi @pedri 💗🫶🏻

user3 guapaaaaas y el capitán más hermoso del mundo 😍 (pretties and the most beautiful captain in the world)

user4 la mujer y la hija del 10 no se mira (we cannot look at 10's wife and daughter)

ynmessi has added to their story

ynmessi

Liked by antonelaroccuzzo, pedri, and 3.447.972 others

ynmessi happiest birthday with my favorite people 💐 thank you for the love everyone - heart is so full 💝🥺

View all 7.628 comments

antonelaroccuzzo siempre quiero verte feliz, mi niña 🥰

ynmessi @antonelaroccuzzo lo mismo, mamá. no puedo expresar o tanto qué te quiero 💝

user5 MESSI AND PEDRI OMG HOW MUCH I MISS THIS DUO

user6 imagine having messi and pedri at your birthday party and at the same time them being your father and boyfriend! YN WON IN LIFE

user7 the way yn and pedri treat each other is so cute 😞

leomessi 😍❤️

ynmessi has added to their story

[gavisfanta]

QATAR - PEDRI

summary: youre messis daughter and dating pedri while the world cup is happening

warnings: none

@yourinsta

the journey to qatar was amazing, now that I've spent the first three hours here I cant wait for the world cup to start.

Vamos Argentina y Vamos España 🇦🇷 ❤️ 🇪🇦

liked by pedri, garnacho7 and 967,929 others.

view comments...

@garnacho7 👏🏼👏🏼

@pedri ❤️🇪🇦

@random supporting two teams is insane

@random imagine having the problem that your bf plays for spain and your dad for argentina and you dont know who you'll support

@random thats my dream problem

@random VIVA ESPAÑAAAA

@random I hope Messi can win it this year

@random can we please talk about how cute pedris smile is in the third picture??

@random why does she have the spanish passport if shes Argentinian??

@random she grew up in spain

@random Hala madrid

@random who is she?

@random shes Messi's daughter

@pedri

Esto acaba de empezar, sí, pero qué debut locos! Vamos España ❤️🇪🇦

(This has just begun, yes, but what a crazy debut! Let's go Spain)

liked by pablogavi, yourinsta and 4,629,729 others.

view comments...

@yourinsta guapoooo😍😍😍 (handsome)

@pablogavi simp

@pedri ❤️

@random LMAO

@random Pedri Potter

@pablogavi Hermanoooo looking good

@random hes soo fineee

@rodri so excited to play with you pedri ;)

@ferrantorres mágico

@random spain gon win the world cup

@random lets go spainnn

@sefutbol que chico 😍😍 (what a boy)

@marcosalonos pedriiii 😍😍

@yourinsta

Amazing game by spain as always, it was great to support you @pedri with @siramartinezc and lets keep going this way. Vamos España ❤️❤️

liked by pedri, pablogavi, siramartinezc and 2,690,628 others.

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@pedri red looks good on you amor ❤️ pinned comment

@siramartinezc 🇪🇦❤️

@pablogavi youre my favourite girlfriend of pedri

@yourinsta oh... thank you gavi...

@pedri gavi.

@anapelayoz mis chicas españolas favoritas 😍❤️ (my favourite spanish girls)

@antonellaroccuzzo 😍😍

@mikkykiemeney when are you coming to a game with me ? 😁😁

@yourinsta soon... maybe...

‎

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@pedri

Muchas gracias por todo, Luis. Por tu confianza y por tu apoyo desde el primer momento, y por haber creído y cuidado siempre a este grupo. No hemos lIlegado donde queríamos en este Mundial, pero seguro que el futuro te deparara nuevos exitos

Muchas gracias también a toda la gente que ha estado a nuestro lado. Por ellos y por la @sefutbol tenemos que pasar página y trabajar para dar alegrías a nuestro país de la mano de Luis De la Fuente. Su suerte será la nuestra. 🇪🇦

(Thank you so much for everything, Luis. For your trust and for your support from the first moment, and for having always believed and cared for this group. We haven't gotten where we wanted in this World Cup, but I'm sure the future will bring you new successes

Many thanks too all the people who have been by our side. For them and for the @sefutbol we have to turn the page and work to give joy to our country from the hand of Luis De la Fuente. Your luck will be ours.)

liked by sefutbol, yourinsta, leomessi and 4,920,672 others.

comments have been turned off.

@yourinsta

Spain has been great and it's really unfortunate that we had to leave Qatar after this loss. I wish we could've went on further but I'm sure everyone is gonna take this as a challenge and win more trophies in the next 4 years. ❤️🇪🇦

liked by pedri, siramartinezc and 1,639,993 others.

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@pedri ❤️

comments have been limited

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@yourinsta

TO THE FINALSSS

VAMOSSS

liked by pedri, leomessi and 2,662,829 others.

view comments...

@leomessi 🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷

@pedri ❤️

@random YESSS TAKE IT HOMEE

@random vamoooooo argentinaaaaaaa

@random france easy win

@random 😍😍

@random mbappe as world cup champion sounds better

‎

‎

@leomessi

CAMPEONES DEL MUNDO!!!!

Tantas veces lo soñé, tanto lo deseaba que aún no caigo, no me lo puedo creer...

Muchas gracias a mi familia, a todos los que me apoyan y también a todos los que creyeron en nosotros. Demostramos una vez más que los argentinos cuando luchamos juntos y unidos somos capaces de conseguir lo que nos propongamos. El mérito es de este grupo, que está por encima de las individualidades, es la fuerza de todos peleando por un mismo sueño que también era el de todos los argentinos... Lo logramos!!!

VAMOS ARGENTINA CARAJO!!!

Nos estamos viendo muy pronto... 🇦🇷🇦🇷

(WORLD CHAMPIONS !!!

I dreamed it so many times, I wished it so much that I don't fall yet, I can't believe it...

Big thanks to my family, all my supporters and also to all those who believed in us. We prove once again that the Argentinians when we fight together and united we are capable of achieving what we set out to do. The credit is of this group, which is above individuality, is the strength of all fighting for the same dream that was also that of all Argentinians... We made it !!!

LET'S FUCKING GO ARGENTINA !!!

We're seeing each other very soon...🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷)

liked by fcbarcelona, yourinsta and 75,448,275 others.

view comments...

@yourinsta LETS GOOOOOOOO CAMPEONES

@fcbarcelona beautiful 😍

@enzofernandez CAPITÁN 👏🏼👏🏼❤️❤️🇦🇷🇦🇷

@garnacho7 😍🇦🇷

@antonellaruccuzzo ❤️🇦🇷

@seleccionargentinaen "Lionel Messi has shaken hands with paradise"

@brycehall 🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷🇦🇷

@lisandromartinez Mi capitán 👏🏼🇦🇷

@random lmao barca commented

@random poor Cristiano

@random G.O.A.T.

@random I call this history

@yourinsta

This has been an incredible and surreal time and I'm so so thankful for everyone I met during my time there and I am so happy that my native country won it.

Thank you Qatar and VAMOS ARGENTINA 🇦🇷

liked by leomessi, pedri and 3,662,268 others.

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@selecciónargentina "todos somos montiel"

@leomessi VAMOSSSSS 🇦🇷🇦🇷

@antonellaroccuzzo ❤️❤️🇦🇷🇦🇷

@pedri 😍

@433 that world cup was special...

@pablogavi pedri looks so handsome 😍😍

comments have been limited...

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@yourinsta

argentina has been magical, thank you for sticking along @pedri ❤️

liked by pedri, leomessi, siramartinezc and 1,763,928 others.

view comments....

@pedri de nada amor ❤️😍

@leomessi 👍🏻

@random this is so dad of him 💀💀

@random MESSI

@mikkykiemeney so pretty 😍

@yourinsta ❤️

@random i love her and pedris relationship

@random that first picture >>

@random argentina did well ngl

@random pedri in the first pic AAAA

@random Idk who I'm jealous of, her or Pedri

@yourinsta

mi equipo 🫶🏻🇦🇷

liked by pedri, leomessi and 2,091,669 others.

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@leomessi mi hija ❤️

@pedri beautiful girl 😍😍

@yourinsta ❤️

@random VIVA ARGENTINA

@random undeserved

@yourinsta

back in barcelona, no better place then home 🫶🏻

liked by leomessi, pedri and 1,829,552 others.

view comments...

@pedri ❤️

@mikkykiemeney Home ❤️❤️

comments have been limited.

[sayuriiz]

ignora ladridos que no le van ni le vienen, en cambio, es lo siguiente que le escucha decir que atrae su atención. guarda silencio, observándole y tratando de hallarle sentido. sonaba a que había acabado con las no-vidas de varios, que hablaba de experiencia. el porqué no cruza su mente en ese instante, cosa que sería más obvia tal vez de tener más presente a resto de clanes/sectas, pero no le resultaban relevantes al momento cuando su foco debían ser habilidades. ' ¿ah, sí? ' es lo que musita con fingido desinterés. ' ¿y cuáles te parecen más entretenidos? ¿viejos o más jóvenes? ' parte de la base de que, en teoría, sabe de qué está hablando. algo de información sacaría de ese modo sin necesidad de exponer ignorancia. nueva sensación de escalofrío le recorre al enfrentarse a tan terrible posibilidad: morir ¡que no quiere! (tonto cuando técnicamente ya está muerta). sayuri chasquea la lengua, ahora cruzándose de brazos con evidencia molestia. conversación con pelinegra la estaba poniendo de mal humor por dirección que tomó. ' que no has entendido nada, ¿por qué pretendes explicarme a mí el ritual de mi propio clan? que imbécil ' mejor ofenderse por ello que responder a su pregunta, cosa que ignora olímpicamente. ' que el azar no aplica a los lasombra. estamos por encima de ello. el fuego les juzga a ustedes, nos abraza a nosotros, somos uno ' que montón de sandeces... menos mal no estaba tratando con alguien de propio clan, quienes seguro verían que se lo estaba sacando de la galera. todo para no decir que no está preparada para ínfima posibilidad, duh. tiene orgullo.

“woff woff” ladra con entretenimiento en las fauces que imitan amenazantes con las manos caídas asemejando patas. no era preocupante a su persona o insultante que subestimasen sus capacidades, a sus ojos era muy buena, sin embargo comprendía que aquellas facetas que expresaba en el mundo social, comprendían una composición y lectura distinta a la sombría personalidad que acunaba. siendo una mujer de hechos y factibles, prefería que fueran sus resultados la evidencia suficiente de sus capacidades (o de sus distorsiones de lo correcto/incorrecto). normalmente cualquier situación similar, corría como agua de rio, y luego al cumplir su deber se ejemplificaba la perversión meticulosa con la que cumplía. “probablemente si, aunque a más años, más difíciles son de matar” lo decía por perfecta experiencia, si bien resguardaba cuotas de información que no poseían valor a la contraria a menos que tuviera intereses en usar servicios assamita. “esa es la parte divertida” exclama con júbilo respecto al azar constante que se exponía la prueba “no importa lo que yo crea, o lo que tú creas, es el fuego quien juzga” para ser una mujer de ciencias sus palabras sonaban casi a una glorificación del paganismo presenciado. hacia un tiempo ya que había asimilado esa faceta a su vida, siento vampiro ¿acaso podía aferrarse a las ciencias que negaban su existencia? no hacía sentido “¿estás preparada para morir si es el caso?” cuestiona con interés brillando en sus ojitos.

[cher-rei]

pablo gavi smau [ P.G ]

summary: a documentation of your life as the messi family's adoptive daughter leading up to a surprise relationship reveal

masterlist

notes: posting this like this isn't based on my gavi fic that's in planning... the oc's name is sofía btw (translated spanish!!)

fía.pérez

liked by pablogavi and 2 234 563 others

fía.pérez la vida en este momento con mi chica favorita 💌 (life at the moment with my favourite girl) [tagged: aurorapaezg]

see all comments below

aurorapaezg 😘 [liked by fía.pérez]

pablogavi dejar a mi hermana en paz desafío: ir (leave my sister alone challenge: go)

→ fía.pérez deja de ser celoso desafío: ve (stop being jealous challenge: go)

user guys I just saw two pretty best friends...

user when are gavi and sofía not arguing though, like can we be fr 😭

user they make it so easy to ship them and I'm so here for it

user it's over once when see antonela or messi in the comments 😔

fía.pérez

liked by anotenelarocuzzo and 1 172 111 others

fía.pérez ciro + fía = <3

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antonelarocuzzo mis bebés ❤️‍🩹 (my babies) [liked by fía.paréz)

leomessi mateo dijo que está mejor 😭 (mateo said that he's better)

→ fía.pérez en sus sueños 🙄 (in his dreams)

pablogavi ¿Y por qué no me invitaron??? (and why wasn't I invited???)

→ fía.pérez bueno, tal vez si hubieras respondido a mi llamada habrías (well maybe if you answered my calls you would've)

pedri los amantes se pelean (lovers quarrel)

→ fía.pérez sal de mis comentarios ahora mismo... (get out of my comments right now)

pablogavi @pedri me das asco. (you disgust me.)

pablogavi

liked by pedri and 897 382 others

pablogavi exponiendo mi angel 🤭 (exposing my angel) [tagged: fía.pérez]

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fía.pérez estás muerto gavira. (you're dead gavira) [liked by pablogavi]

pedri ¿¿subtítulo?? (caption??)

ferrantorres ¿¿tu que?? (your what??)

user excuse me 😃

user HELP?? SOFT LAUNCH??

fía.pérez

liked by leomessi and 1 223 311 others

fía.pérez él realmente está aquí firmando las camisetas de todos mientras yo estoy allí 😒 (he's really out there signing everyone's shirt while I'm right there) [tagged: pablogavi]

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pablogavi puedes tener el mío en su lugar 😉 (you can have mine instead)

→ fía.pérez preferiría morir ☺️ (i'd rather die)

pedri los odio tanto a ambos (I hate you both so much) [liked by fía.pérez]

user I don't even know if I'm delusional anymore

→ user girl I'm just here for the vibes, they're too cute to leave

fía.pérez

liked by pablogavi and 1 722 111 others

fía.pérez el chico en la pantalla es algo lindo 👀 (the guy on the screen is kind of cute)

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aurorapaezg estás bromeando ¿no? (you're joking right?) [liked by fía.pérez]

pablogavi conozco a alguien que es al menos diez veces más lindo (I know someone who's at least ten times cuter)

→ fía.pérez ¿ah, de verdad? (oh really?) [liked by pablogavi]

ferminlopez @pedri hermano, ven aquí (bro get over here)

user we're getting closer!!!

user am I supposed to be screaming or crying rn??

pablogavi

liked by fía.pérez and 891 199 499 others

pablogavi mi vista favorita 👀❤️‍🩹 (my favourite view) [tagged: fía.pérez]

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fía.pérez he visto mejores de cerca (I've seen better upclose)

→ pablogavi imposible mi amor (impossible, my love)

pedri ¿puedo finalmente dormir en paz ahora? (can I finally sleep in peace now?)

→ pablogavi nunca (never)

ferminlopez ¡¡vamos!! (let's gooo!!) [liked by pablogavi)

user screaming, crying, throwing up

user YESSSS!! I'M CONVULSING

fía.pérez

liked by leomessi and 2 321 112 others

fía.pérez mi niño bonito ❤️ (my pretty boy) [tagged: pablogavi)

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pablogavi ¡¡no es justo!! no puedes llamarme tu chico bonito tan casualmente (that's not fair!! you can't call me your pretty boy so casually)

→ fía.pérez por supuesto que puedo (of course I can)

antonelarocuzzo te tomo bastante tiempo (took you long enough)

→ fía.pérez fue un proceso ¿vale? 😭 (it was a process okay?)

pedri yo todavía te odio (I still hate you)

→ pablogavi nada nuevo (nothing new)

user is this what heaven feels like?

[latinotiktok]

me encantan los memes de "todos somos colombia" y eso, pero no se sientan derrotados aún!!!! dennos un buen partido!!! el fútbol argentino es de lo mejor, son los campeones del mundo, TIENEN A MESSI, me encanta mi país pero espero un buen partido de ustedes. los quiero mucho, y gane quien gane, estoy feliz. muy pero que muy buena suerte !!

Tranqui, el "todos somos x" siempre lo vivimos, estamos acostumbrados JAJAJA, pero muchisimas gracias por las palabras lindas!! Ahora anda a odiarnos que es nuestra cábala.

[the-californicationist]

¡Hola Cali! 🩷 Te dejé un mensaje con un DILF que pesqué hace algunas semanas, pero creo que se perdió por aquí o no pudiste leerlo. ¡Te extraño tanto! El trabajo me está consumiendo porque estamos en plena campaña política y solo quiero que termine, con el mejor resultado, e ir a descansar (y escribir).

Leí que estabas de vacaciones o algo así. ¡Espero que la estés pasando increíble! *Besito en la frente*

Vine con una idea que me está rondando la cabeza: Precio como candidato a Senador y Lector asesor, deciden mandar todo a la verg* y simplemente ACEPTAN QUE ESTÁN ENAMORADOS Y TIENEN SEXO CALIENTE Y DESORDENADO.

*guiño guiño*

Griss!! Lamento mucho la demora, mi amor. Espero que esto sea lo que esperabas <3

After serving in the SAS, John Price has decided to run for a seat in the House of Commons. You are one of his closest political advisors, helping him deal with a runoff election. The only problem? Your incurable crush on your giant, hot, bearded, future member of Parliament.

English translation of the ask: Senator!Price and Advisor!Reader, decide to send everything to hell and simply ACCEPT THAT THEY ARE IN LOVE AND HAVE HOT AND MESSY SEX.

Unfortunately, this fic is in English, but if you are looking for Spanish-language fics, please go read (and reblog!) @pricesugarwife and her amazing work!! She's the best!

The Runoff

The tremble in your hand wouldn’t be abated by the drink you clasped in it, the alcohol losing the battle against your nerves, and the brown neck of the beer bottle kept waving in little shivers, giving your fears away. You squeezed the glass tighter, feeling the sticky glue of the label you’d picked bare, its shards still caught under your fingernails, but you kept trying to control your muscles; mind over matter. 

Only the blue, hazy glow of the computer screen reflected in your eyes as you watched the election results come in. Down twenty-two, up seventeen, down four, up twelve; you watched the number fluctuate as if it was your life hanging in the balance. Hell, this wasn’t even your race. 

But, it sure felt like it was. You were entrenched in this campaign, elbow-deep in the muck of it, wearing its failures like dark purple bruises and its successes like lipstick-stained kisses, feeling the highest of highs and trudging through the lowest of lows. Every rally felt like a homecoming, and every debate put your nerves on edge. More than anything, you believed in your work. You stuffed envelopes and pressed flyers into the palms of your fellow constituents as if you were bringing them food for their empty bellies, passing out prayers for their unsaved souls. It was the most important work you’d ever done. 

You needed John Price to win. 

Being elected to the House of Commons was a big deal for an independent in his district. Luckily, John’s reputation quietly but effectively preceded him. His service to the RAF and SAS, his commitment to defeating agents of terror, his loyalty to the Crown – all of it gleamed just like the shining medals that hung on his chest, even if he grumbled about them. Despite his distaste for pomp, he sure did wear it well. The accolades looked good on his broad chest, each one more splendid than the last, all lined up in neat, indomitable rows. 

Maybe I should spend more time looking at my stat sheets than his uniform, you thought, feeling guilty at just how many times you’d turned on incognito mode and searched for his award ceremony on YouTube.

The video had a few hundred thousand views, but it felt like most of those were from you. Seeing him walk out on stage, every bit the hero they’d introduced him as, made your breath catch in your throat. His sharp hat, the starched fabric of his coat, the bright, red sash slashing across his big, heavy body… you wanted to feel him sinking his weight on top of you, that power stealing your breath away, crushing your ribs, stopping your lungs from gasping in their precious oxygen. You wanted to feel the cold of those shining brass buttons upon your breasts, their rounded edges curling and chilling your heated flesh. You wanted the stubble of his beard to burn your soft cheek. 

You wanted John Price, and that would be a huge mistake. The last thing he needed was tabloid pictures with a garish, screaming title like “MP CANDIDATE SNOGGING HIS OWN STAFF!” No, you wouldn’t embarrass him like that. You wouldn’t risk it. Even if the way that he looked at you across the war room table made you think that you could, you would never. His seat was too critical. 

You needed John Price to win. 

Your eyes flashed up to the screen, again, noticing a change in the counting. You watched the numbers slow their terrible give and take, the shifting ups and downs slowly trickling to a halt. You did a double take, checking the clock. The recount was over. It was a tie.

Your phone started to buzz. Then another. Before you took your next breath, it was vibrating fast enough to cancel out each subsequent ping, like a barrage of alerts, all fighting for the front of the line. You shut it down, hoping you could get a kill command through the thunderous notification storm. Finally, the screen went dark, and you saw yourself staring back through the black mirror, startled to see your sunken eyes, as if you were confronting a stranger. You kept the dead phone centered in your hand, gazing into your own face just a little longer as if to ask what she was looking at, daring her to flinch. 

“Yours, too?” 

A dark, smoldering voice rumbled toward you through the quiet of your shared office. You snapped your head to find him leaning against the doorway, the collar of his oxford missing its tie, unbuttoned thrice, wrinkled and lilting from sweat and rain and the stress of the day. His beard was shaggy, and his five o’clock shadow bristled across his neck, spreading on his cheeks as he gave you a half-smile, wiggling his dead phone in the air. 

“Yeah,” you sighed, coming back to yourself, “Don’t look now, but Twitter is going absolutely mental.”

You pointed your chin at the screen, tilting your head up and leaning back in your chair so that he could look over your shoulder. There was barely a meter between the wall and the desk, so between you and the chair, John needed to lean close to see the final score. As he watched the screen, you watched the pulse of his heart beat through the wide vein in his neck. You could smell his musk, the human of his earthly form filling your nose and mouth, then his aftershave, fading, only the woody base notes remaining. A lingering scent of his favorite cigars clung to his hair and clothes. He smelled like a fire, a whirling inferno of vanilla and licorice and sweet tobacco that you had grown to love, to crave. 

“Christ. A fuckin’ runoff. As if I haven’t put you lot through enough already.” He shook his head, crossing his thick arms across himself, sighing from a resigned frustration. 

“We wouldn’t do it if we didn’t believe it was worth it,” you murmured in a hushed half-tone, your voice almost gone from all the shouting and mayhem you’d been a part of earlier when they’d called for a recount, “We believe in you, John.”

His smile widened, not enough to show those straight, white teeth, but enough to soften his eyes as he looked down at you. He tapped you on the shoulder and motioned for you to come with him. 

As he disappeared through the door, you followed him into the office hallway, past the common room, scooting past half-dead interns, rabid with a new task. One of them was juggling three phone calls at once, but another was curled up beneath her desk fast asleep using a cheap fleece blanket for comfort. Your campaign office had been through Hell, and it was far from over. 

A few of them tried to stop you and ask some questions, but you put them off, telling them to take a breather, get their minds right before making another phone call, and you continued to follow John as he led you through the winding office maze. 

Finally, he pulled you into his office, grabbing your forearm with some force, and locking the door behind you. 

“Got a surprise for you,” he said, pulling out two white bags from under his desk. 

You smelled it before he revealed it to you, and you couldn’t help but gape in excitement,

“Is that… oh, my God. Is that Padella’s? Are you serious right now?”

You helped him tear into the bags like a feral hound, ripping at the tight plastic bow, pulling out the takeaway boxes greedily and without shame.

His grin was smug and satisfied as he watched you open the box and take in a huge whiff of the hot food, 

“Yeah, it is. The seafood alfredo, right? Your favorite.”

“John,” you said his name like he had given you something far more salacious than food, ignoring his rolling chuckle, eager to get a morsel in your mouth as soon as you could. 

“If I knew it’d get you to say my name like that, I’d bring it by every bloody night,” he laughed, hiding his pleasure under a joking tone. He leaned in closer to the open takeaway box, peering inside, “Go on, love. Give us a bite.”

“This is how you know I’m devoted to the John Price campaign,” you joked with him, raising your eyebrows with some sass as you prepared a forkful for him. You speared a juicy scallop, twirling some pasta around on the plastic tines of the single-use utensil, crafting the perfect bite for him. “Giving you first dibs?”

“Lucky bloke, me,” he said quietly, winking at you. 

You pulled the fork into position, lining it up with his mouth, and you watched him open up those full lips for you, showing you his flat, pink tongue that bent to anticipate the creamy taste of the pasta. You placed it gently inside, the act of feeding one of the most dangerous men in the world suddenly too intimate, too endearing. His eyes watched you through the whole ritual, only fluttering closed when he shut his lips and began to chew his bite, savoring the flavors. 

He let out a long groan, the sound of which made you want to squeeze your thighs together, your mind repeating it over and over like an echo, imagining your name falling in between his ragged, guttural sighs. You felt your cheeks run hot.

“Mm, fuck,” he smiled, talking with his mouth half-full, “That is damn good.”

You took your own bite, nodding, tasting the buttery alfredo, the perfectly-cooked noodles, and the light, savory scallop. It was almost better than sex. Almost. 

Sharing the same fork, since you only had the one, you and John traded bites, sitting in silence for a while before the conversation turned back to work.

“They wanna put us in the runoff in less than ten days,” he said ruefully, understanding that timeline would be a brutal one.

“Ten days? Are they trying to kill us? The interns are falling asleep standing up,” you sighed, exaggerating a little, but making your point. 

“You should head home. Get some rest. I’ll hold down the fort here, love,” John said, wiping a smear of stray alfredo off of his lip decisively. 

You balked,

“No. Absolutely not. I can’t leave you now, not when we’re this close to winning this thing.”

He studied you for a moment, leaning his hulking forearms on his desk, spreading his wide hands across the soft wood of its tabletop, letting you see the small muscles in his hands as they stretched and pulled across his bones. He looked down at the space between his palms, grounding himself before he spoke, his voice just above a whisper, 

“You make me feel like it’s actually possible.” 

You reached out, your hand holding onto his wrist, making him look up to meet your eyes,

“John. It is possible. You’ve got Stallworth’s endorsement. Marchande will lose if you can get the Labor constituents behind you. I’ve run the numbers. Believe me, you can do this.”

“I can’t do it without you,” he frowned a bit, his brow knitting together, the timbre of his voice low and steady. 

You smiled up at him, feeling his fingers lace themselves into yours, experimentally testing the boundaries of his touch, 

“I’m here until the bitter end,” you let out a short laugh, nervous from how good it felt to be held in his hands, “And probably even after that.”

John was silent for a while, his thumbs massaging your knuckles in little, slow circles, his touch becoming more and more sensual, and then, he abruptly pulled away, leaving your palms face up on the table, your fingers bent in the shape of a shallow bowl as if begging to be filled. But, you remained empty, so you pulled your hands back to your lap, suddenly unsure, your body wanting his touch but mentally feeling as if you shouldn’t ask for it back.

He looked away, staring past you at the closed door and muttered, 

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You challenged, keeping your volume as low as his, not wanting to break the fading spell you had cast over each other. 

“I ask too much of you.”

You listened to the words as he sent them out, hearing two implications fighting within that one phrase. 

Too much of my time, or too much of my body? You wondered. 

So, you tried to make it easy on him. You didn’t want to be the distraction that ruined his race. You stood, closing up the box of food, cleaning off the tiny smear of alfredo that painted the corner of his desk. He stood with you, waving you off of the mess, taking over to clean it himself. 

The bag rustled, the box popped hollowly as he closed it, paper and cardboard and plastic all swishing and clattering, a cacophony of noise. And then… a deeply still silence. 

He was standing right in front of you, too close for you to think straight. You let yourself linger there, leeching the warmth from his heavy body and taking it into yourself, letting it seep into your skin. You vowed to keep the memory of it in some recess of your mind, saving it for dessert when you could be alone to savor its silky texture, tasting a ghost of all of the mirror universes where you knew what it felt like to be covered in him.

Suddenly, you felt his finger under your chin, a coaxing pressure, lifting your face to look at him. It was hard to look into his eyes. Some part of you knew that the moment he peered into them, when he studied what they were trying to hide, he would know your secret. He would be able to see all of your guilt, all of your stolen pleasure, all of the nights where your hand tried to replicate his presence, working itself between your legs to indulge in your fantasies about being taken by him, about serving him not as his campaign advisor but as his woman; his shelter and his release. He would look into your face and he would immediately know that you dreamed of being used like his own personal toy, helping him unwind after the stress of this election, putting all of his frustrations into you as he pounded himself into your mouth or between your spread legs, using you like a salve on a burn.  

But, you showed him anyway. Your eyes flicked up to his, and you let him see it. 

John towered over you, his shadow darkening your vision, framing you with his round shoulders. He had his thumb pressed just below your bottom lip, opening your mouth a little, watching your breathing crash heavy into your lungs.  

You stood frozen in place, watching as his neck bent over you, the great trunk of his body craning down, shading you, closing around you like the boughs of an immense oak, promising that you were safe here nestled in his roots, some sort of primal argument, convincing you to stay still so he could devour you in peace. A rabbit, statuesque beneath the snarl of a wolf.

His face was now upon yours, close enough for you to see the little silver scars that crossed over his cheek and brow, hints at a dangerous life, whispers of old pain. A light spattering of freckles littered the bridge of his nose, fanning out beneath those pale blue eyes he had fixed on your mouth, staring into it as if hypnotized.

Finally, when he was near enough to taste your air, to feel the heat of your breath against his mouth, his lips broke their seal, opening in anticipation of another first bite, another chance to sate a different type of hunger. 

His lips brushed yours, every moment taking an eon to pass, seconds stretching into thousands of hours, the office, the building, the city melting away from you like wax from a flame, the world giving way to dark infinity, and you opened your mouth to taste him, allowing your tongue to slip over your teeth so that you could know the sweetness of the smooth skin of his lip. 

The moment you touched him, you were taken. He crashed into you, his mouth to your mouth, his chest to your chest, scooping you up like a greedy falcon, trapping you in his arms, flying away with you. Or falling? You felt like you were falling; like you had leapt too high and now would tumble through the sky forever, whirling helplessly. He tasted of the rich alfredo, and of his cigars, buttery and rich, masculine and heady. He was prying your jaw apart with his own, eager to fill your cheeks with his broad, heavy tongue. John pulled back just enough to allow you to take a breath, but he returned, unable to stop himself, softly sucking at your bottom lip, slanting his mouth over yours, the fever in him beginning to cool. Then, he pulled back altogether, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes wrenched closed, his body heaving from his desperate breaths. 

He leaned back, staring at you with a worried look on his face, his voice deep and gravelly, a demonic purr, 

“I… I’m so sorry.”

You nodded, lowering your eyes, 

“I know. We can’t.”

“Can’t?” He panted, still reeling, looking at you like he was lost, like you knew the way out, “Do you want this? Me?”

You leaned your head into the strength of his hands as he cradled your skull, drunk on hope,

“More than you know. But, I don’t want to distract–”

John lunged at you, his mouth pressing to yours again, hurting you with his power. The weight of his jaw crashing into your lips, making you wonder if you would bleed from it, your own teeth cutting into the delicate membrane inside. But, he didn’t seem to care. He wasn’t concerned with your comfort. He was only there to consume you, to steal your breath, to drink your soul from your throat. 

He moved his body against you like a python, curling and squeezing you with his arms, constricting your movements, pushing and pulling you this way or that, whatever would give him deeper access to your pink tongue. His aggression shocked you, and it was everything you could do to just keep your balance, unsteady on your feet, your hands clutching at his waist for support. 

John’s kissing made you feel weak, like he was drugging you, forcing your mind into a daze. You tried to remember why you had tried to stop this from happening, unable to even imagine a consequence. You felt his hands wander away from your face, rushing down your neck, finding your breasts and roughly fondling them over your shirt. You’d ripped off your bra long ago, hot and tired, needing relief. 

When he realized that your heavy tits were hanging freely, hidden beneath your oversized button-down, you felt him shudder, groaning into your mouth at the mere fantasy of seeing them, of marking your nipples in dark hickeys as he suckled you, letting his teeth tattoo his claim on your flesh. 

You were brought back to the physical world when you felt your ass shoved into the long edge of the desk, stopping his forward progress. He pulled away from the kiss and stared down at you with a look that made you feel as if you might be in some kind of danger, even if you were relishing every fearful moment of it. 

John had only shown you this expression once before. You’d been working late again, trying to keep yourself awake by brewing coffee in the break room. There’d been an incident or two with one of the interns, a bloke who didn’t know how to take no for an answer. You’d shut him down twice, and now, you hadn’t realized he had followed you inside the small kitchenette. This time, he wasn’t asking, and when you felt his hand on your neck, you’d screamed, fighting back, but not making much difference. Mere seconds later, John had marched in wearing this same expression stretched across his face. 

It was a sort of ravenous joy, almost playful, but it was terrifying. He’d broken the intern’s wrist in his crushing grip, and then his jaw bone, striking the smaller man down to the dirty, tile floor with a single, cracking punch. Then, he’d stared at you, trying his best to control his visage, to push down that fiery arousal. Eventually, he was back under control, helping you out of the office, checking you for any wound, no matter how minor, worrying himself over you, promising that you’d never see that arsehole again. And you never did. You’d put it out of your mind until just this moment, always having more work to do. But now, you wondered if that intern was still walking around out there or if John had let his old ways return just for that evening. He was always good at eliminating threats. 

You had assumed that his feral heat had been for the fight, an expression of rage. But now, you thought that perhaps it had been for you. The thought that this reckless lad had dared to put his hands on something that John had claimed as his own, righteously possessive over you to the point of fury, baring his teeth and curling his lip into a lupine snarl, briefly revealing his wrath before tamping down on it and hiding it from you out of fear that you would not agree to be his. 

Now, he was not controlling his face. There was no polite gentleness in his eyes, no casual ease in his shoulders, no respectful distance between your body and his. No; now that you were in his grasp, he had no plans to let you go free. 

He grabbed you around your waist, his fingers cutting into your full form, squeezing your hips and lifting you with ease onto the desktop. He distracted you with kisses, lulling you back into a hazy, pleasure-filled lust, making you aware of his desire by shoving himself between your thick thighs, the threat of his heavy erection pressing through his slacks and onto the crotch of your jeans. 

Your body reacted on instinct. You felt yourself widening your legs and canting your hips to rub against his hardon like you were in heat, your biology doing everything it could to get his attention. 

But, you had it regardless. He tugged off your shirt with a deft sort of accuracy that took your breath away. When he let his eyes drink in the sight of your round breasts, peaked with smooth, puffy nipples, his rushed movements stilled, and you waited while he studied you, reaching out his fingers to see if you were as soft as you looked. As he discovered the truth, his big fingers wrapping around each of your heavy tits, applying pressure, caressing the sides of them, feeling the thin ridges of your stretch marks, plucking delicately at each nipple, looking up at your face to watch your reactions; all the while, you could feel the throb of his fat cock fighting to touch you through your clothes. 

Then, his touch became feverish again. Instead of a caress, it was a burning friction; instead of tender plucking, it was a shocking pinch. He was making you writhe beneath his hands, manhandling your tits to his own end, enjoying your whimpering cries of pain that fizzled into bright pleasure, the pressure of his dick against your sex making you aware of the growing wetness there, your panties proving your desire to you, warm and slippery. 

You reached up your hand to touch his chest, mimicking his affection, admiring the firm muscle that spanned beneath your palms. Your fingers found the gap between his buttons, running through the dense patch of hair that lay on his sternum, raking your nails lightly across his skin. He furrowed his brow, wanting more, looking down at your touch and starting to unbutton his dress shirt. Within seconds, he was peeling it off of his shoulders, leaving it rumpled and inside-out on the floor. 

Sitting up, you started to explore him with your mouth, letting your lips drag along his furry skin, licking your way across to his highest ribs, to that sensitive spot just below his armpit, changing your gentle exploration into a sucking, lustful kiss, aiming to leave a mark of your own. He let you bite him, enjoying the pain and groaning from it. Then, he grew impatient, and he fisted your hair at the nape of your neck, yanking you away from him, bending over you again, forcing you to kiss him as he pressed your jaw up to his, controlling your head. 

But, he did not have control of your hands. Without breaking eye contact with him, you began to fumble with his belt, hurrying to open the latch, moving on to his button fly, popping each one away to reveal his boxer briefs, the cotton of them soft across the back of your hand. You watched his face, chaotic and full of a decadent sort of desire, as if he couldn’t believe what he was feeling. 

He kept his hand in your hair and let you work his pants away, peeling his underclothes down as far as you could get them, glancing down as the pink, swollen head of his dick peeked over the hem as you revealed him. The head was pointing at his hip, trapped there by the wide elastic of his briefs. Now that he was free to move, his length stood at attention, fully erect with a girth that made you dizzy. 

“Holy fuck,” you gasped, muttering a curse under your breath. 

He jerked your head back, tearing your eyes away from his heavy phallus and forcing you to look at him instead,

“Something wrong, love?” 

You gave him a submissive look, curling your lips into a sly smile, your eyes wide like a fearful doe, 

“I don’t think you’ll fit.”

He smiled down at you, pleased by your appraisal, his gaze turning sinister,

“You’re not leavin’ ‘til I do.”

Quicker than you could breathe, he released his hold on your head and used both hands to ruck off your jeans in one violent pull. Your panties got stuck halfway, getting caught in the rough stitching of the denim. John looked down into your lap, staring at the silky fabric clinging to your wide hips, hanging off to one side at a messy diagonal, showing him the top of your unshaved mons. 

You heard him sigh through his smile, his hand reaching forward and ever-so-gently helping the edge of your panties back into place. You were confused. He was supposed to be ripping them off and fucking you stupid, but he slowed things all the way down, returning to his delicate caresses. 

John played with your breasts again, kissing your mouth, sucking on your neck. Then, he reached between your legs and touched you, his hand slipping over your covered pussy, groping you through the thin fabric. His fingers were warm, and the way he pressed them beside your tender clit made you tremble, your thighs shaking a bit as your legs hung off the side of the desk. 

He fell to his knees in front of you, his hands wrapping around the curve of your ass, pulling you as far forward on the edge of the desk as he could, throwing you forward like you were as light as a feather, his grip fierce and bruising. Then, he leaned forward, eager to put his mouth over your pussy, but you protested, gasping,

“John, my… my panties.”

He pinned his bright blue eyes on yours, looking at you unblinking, and leaned forward, showing you that he didn’t give a fuck about your panties. His hot tongue began to push and prod at your lips through the fabric, and you could feel your pussy clinging to the gusset, the wet cloth conforming to your shape as he licked and sucked.

As his tongue delved deeper, he discovered your sticky precome that had been soaking you right through ever since he’d found you staring at the vote count. He used his lips to suck on your folds, the knit of the fabric allowing only the tiniest bit of air to escape, making little chirping sounds as he applied more and more pressure. Then, you watched in a sick sort of awe as he took the gusset fully into his mouth, pulling it away from your body to suck your wetness from it like he was lapping up the last bit of ice cream from its cone. He even used his hand to loop it over his fingers, stretching out the thin triangle, making sure to get every last drop. 

By this time, you were pretty sure you had dripped your stickiness straight onto his desk, and you could feel your pussy slipping around on the smooth surface with every little movement. John decided to finally give you what you’d been whimpering for, and he pulled your panties aside to drink from the source. 

When the hot curl of his tongue finally connected, sealing wet flesh against wet flesh, you cried out, biting into your hand to keep yourself from being heard. You watched him eat you from your center, writhing his tongue deep into your hole and sucking on the head of your clit, using his bottom lip to reach that space underneath, teasing you within an inch of your life. Without thinking, your hand went to the back of his head, fingers raking through his hair, and you watched his eyes flutter, loving the feeling of your nails on his scalp. 

Your legs were partly resting on his shoulders, and John stood up quickly, slamming you back onto the desk and hauling your legs over with you, shoving your knees into your chest, putting your pussy on full display. You felt his fingers curve down through your wet lips and into the sensitive divot where you were leaking from. As he sank his hand into your hole, you felt like you were so close to coming. All of his licking and teasing had put you on the edge, and now that his thumb was sliding beside your clit and his longest fingers were stretching out your pussy, you felt the spark of an orgasm ignite in your belly. 

“Yes, love… That’s… ungh, fuck…” John felt it, too.

His hand was making all sorts of noise as he fucked his fingers up into you, the messiness only getting worse as your body flooded you with shock after shock of your orgasm. You were convulsing, your abs tight and protruding beneath your layer of fat, your feet pointed straight like a ballerina, all of your limbs frozen and tense, letting the orgasm wreck you and leave you boneless. 

He pulled away from you, gently removing his hand, and he bent his mouth to you again, aiming to taste your fresh come, hot and silky, coating you in natural lube, doing its absolute best to convince him to listen to his instincts and sheath himself inside of your body. 

But, John was careful. He pulled your legs back down to a bent position, one hand on each knee, prying you apart slowly, his eyes fixed on your flower so he could watch it bloom, covered in your sweet nectar. 

“You okay?” He asked, his voice husky and broken. 

You nodded, 

“Yeah, I’m more than okay.”

He smiled at you, using his hands to push your breasts together, playing with your nipples in his warm hands, pinching you cruelly and then soothing you in small circles, never letting you know when the pain or the pleasure would come. 

On the outside of your pussy, John rested his cock, spreading your outer lips with its weight to fit his girth right on top of your clit. He thrust forward, and you watched as the drooling head of his prick was shoved toward you. 

He humped himself against you in a steady pattern, pumping himself across your wetness, trying to relieve some pressure. Eventually, you thought he was about to come, but he stopped, slowing to a slick grind. He looked up at you and ran his palm down his face, frustrated and beyond horny.

“I wanna fuck you so goddamn bad.”

“So do I,” you moaned, rocking your hips up and down, adding to his thrusting friction, using him like a toy to bring yourself back to a shivering edge. 

“I don’t have a condom,” he confessed, helping you use his smooth head to massage the body of your clit. 

“I’m clean. I actually don’t think I’ve had sex since I moved to the city,” you shrugged, slowing down with him, waiting for his consent before giving in to your mind-altering want, “But, if you wanna stop, it’s okay.”

He kissed your ankle, holding your foot in his hand, leaving little licks and love bites down your calf as he warred with himself, 

“Haven’t been with anyone since Dahra.”

His ex-wife. She’d gone back to Urzikstan one day without so much as a note, packing a bag and leaving her rings on the counter. Apparently, when they’d finally met to fill out his divorce papers, he said that she looked happy in a way he hadn’t seen in a long time, so he signed without question. You remember when he had told you about it, three whiskeys deep and sharing a cigar on the roof of his loft, too late to go to the pub, but too early to stop drinking. He’d held your hand while he talked to you that night. You’d just thought he needed the support, and you tried to be a good friend. But now that he was getting himself off by slipping through your come-covered lips, playing in the mess that he made, you imagined that moment much differently. 

“I trust you,” you looked up at him through your lashes, holding your breasts and teasing your nipples between your fingers, your skin feeling as if you were electric, sensitive beyond comprehension, every touch and pinch feeling like ecstasy. 

Apparently, he didn’t need much convincing. In your next breath, you felt his head sloppily notching against your throbbing core, fitting snug in the soft entrance of your cunt, cradled there in your warmth. You gasped, enjoying the sensation of being gently licked by his cockhead in the center of your folds, filling a void, a missing piece slotting into place. 

Then, he met your eyes, staring into them with a fondness that you had only dreamed about, framed by that same furious arousal, like staring at a white-hot flame and knowing it could kill you but admiring its beauty anyway. 

“Hands on your knees,” he said, jerking himself a bit as he dipped into your entrance.

John watched as you grabbed your knees, pulling your legs apart, opening yourself up to him in the most vulnerable way, presenting yourself to him fully, without shame, all the guilt you’d been dragging around now gone, giving yourself to him freely and wanting him to take you like a prize. 

“So damn pretty,” he muttered to himself, staring down at your coupling, watching as he stuffed himself inside of you as carefully as he could, trying to let you adjust but unable to stop himself from thrusting deeper and deeper. 

He pulled himself all the way out and tried to sink into you again, his eyes snapping up to your face at the sound of a hiss coming through your teeth as he made his way through your tight muscles. You felt him stop, thinking he had hurt you, but you shook your head, 

“Don’t stop. I need you, John. I wanna feel so full.”

An animal noise escaped from his throat, and he rewarded your bravery, finishing the job with a snap of his hips, sealing himself fully inside of you. The root of his cock knocked the breath out of you, making you gasp in wonder at the sensation of being stretched beyond any memory. Yes, it had been a while, but you were no virgin. Nevertheless, John Price’s fat shaft was making you question whether you had ever truly been fucked before. His girth was changing your definition of the word.

If you had thought that he would treat you reverently, like you were made of precious lace, you had another thing coming. It was as if he had been waiting for this very moment, and he planned to take every advantage of the opportunity. Now that he had you, he used you. 

His huge hands scooped up your legs, silently instructing you to lock them around his hips, keeping your thighs wide as he rutted into you. You hooked your ankles together, admiring the pulsing feel of his large glutes as he thrust forward, feeling him squeeze and release, pounding himself into you with his heavy weight. 

John was too big. You had to admit that to yourself at this point. You could feel him stretching your hole, pushing your flesh beyond its usual limits. But, you were drunk off of the way his dick made you feel like you were constantly coming. You’d never truly been able to find your g-spot. Every now and then, when you had a really great partner, you thought that you’d orgasmed from the grinding thrusts of his rod, but it was rare. This, though, how John’s cock was spreading you, how you could feel him on all sides, the unimaginable pressure… he was hypnotizing.

He would pound himself into you, slamming his weight into your hips, and the shudder of your bones would make your body tremble. Then, when he was in, the pressure of his dense cockhead would flash a glittering wave of orgasmic pleasure through your core, making you think that you were about to explode. But, you never did. The pleasure never stopped. It never found a peak. It would just build and build in crashing, tumultuous waves, whirling through your blood like a cyclone, each throb feeling like spark lightning. 

Your mind was racing. Should I stop him? Is this normal? Am I gonna pass the fuck out? But, you couldn’t speak. If you tried to form a sentence or even a coherent phrase, he would bottom out again, flooding his shaft with your wet slick, and you would be overcome by another wave of bliss, nothing more than a warm sheath for his mighty sword. 

The edge of you lip was cool and wet, and you realized you were drooling, your tongue resting on your bottom teeth like a panting dog, helping you whimper and mewling your moans as you felt him mold you to fit. 

“Shit, you are still so tight, love. Can barely put it in. Squeezin’ me… fuck,” he was sweating, hoarsely groaning in long, deep breaths, his belly expanding and contracting as he labored over you. 

You didn’t reply. All of your words had been crushed into whining cries, helpless gasps. You took his hand and lifted it up to your mouth, placing it on your tongue, hoping he would fuck your throat with his fingers. The look on his face was one of desperate curiosity, wanting to please you, to serve you however he could. So, taking the hint, he curled his fingers away and pushed his first and middle fingers deeper into your mouth, exploring you softly. 

You moaned loudly from the relief and closed your lips around his knuckles, shoving him all the way in to the top of his palm, beginning to suck and lick him as if it were a heavy cock instead of his hand. 

His eyes rolled back in his head, and he tilted his chin up to the ceiling, his neck bulging with his ragged breaths. Then, he turned his gaze back to you, watching you comfort yourself with his fingers, suckling on them like a hungry calf, needy and persistent. 

“Fuck,” he exclaimed, “Tha’s bloody hot. Suck them deeper for me. Wanna feel your throat.”

You obliged him, your lips now reaching over his last knuckles onto the back of his hand and the callused ridge of his palm. If you stuck out your tongue, you could lick the middle of his palm, choking yourself with his fingertips and swallowing around them, clenching your throat in time with his thrusts. 

“Mmmf-fuckkk,” he rasped, his face set in an agonized fury, “Gag yourself again. Choke on me, love. Just like that.”

You knew why he liked it. You could feel his response. Because every time you choked on his hand, your body would heave, trying to get air, trying to fight him away, and your pussy would contract, milking his thick shaft like a strong, wet fist. So, you gave him more, ignoring your mind’s fear and confusion, mentally moving past it, focusing only on his pleasure, and yours. 

After a few more thrusts, the look in his eyes became one of concern, a worried flash of panic. He was going to come, and you knew it. 

John tried to pull his hand back, gently attempting to leave the warmth of your mouth, but you didn’t let him go. You held his giant wrist in both hands, gripping him cruelly, forcing his fingers even deeper, bobbing your head as if you were sucking his dick. 

“Gonna come. Fuck, I’m gonna – ungh. C’mon! Come with me, baby. Come with me. Lemme feel –”

He used his free hand to swipe roughly over your clit, changing those waves of cracking pleasure into a blistering orgasm, the heat of which seared over your whole body, making you feel like you had a fever. You felt yourself gushing between your legs, all of the wetness he had been churning within you being pushed out by the rhythmic clamping of your own muscles. You were screaming, but no one would hear you. All of your keening was subdued by his heavy hand, getting lost every time you choked for air. The only thing you heard was the rushing of breath from his spreading lungs and the creamy, slapping impact of his body against yours.

Then, a barking, guttural growl that he tried to hide, cutting it off and grinding his teeth to prevent himself from screaming as he emptied his load into you. You felt it hit your flesh within your core, like a burning splash of lava, shooting into you over and over, foaming and folding around the swollen head of his prick. His come felt heavy as it pooled at your end, deep in your belly, coating you like a glaze and settling over your womb.

You wanted him to stay inside of you forever, but he was finished and totally spent, his strength fading to a relaxed daze. You unhooked your legs and let him step away, feeling the loss of him in your mouth and your pussy, unable to even roll yourself off of the desk. So, you had to hang there, your legs unsupported, dangling wide apart, showing him exactly what he had just done to you. And he looked like he was enjoying the view. He stared down between your legs and watched his cream ooze out of your fucked hole, the flesh red and shining from its ordeal. 

There was nothing in his office for comfort. But, he needed to soothe you. Some instinct within him was screaming in his mind to hold you in his arms and keep you safe. So, he pulled you off of the desk, holding you in his arms, and guided you down to the carpet, sitting with his back against the wall and letting you lean against his body, keeping you in his lap with tired arms. 

You were both so sticky, but the sweat didn’t bother you. You were happy to rest your cheek on his shoulder, caressing his furry belly with your hands, trying not to pass out. 

“You alright, love?” He asked in a low whisper, “Did I hurt you?”

“Gonna be sore tomorrow,” you smiled, not lifting your eyes to look at his face, choosing instead to stare at how his soft body hair ruffled over your fingernails as you lightly scratched them across his skin. “Are you okay, John?”

“Worried about you. About this,” he murmured, some of his strength coming back to his voice. You looked up at him now, watching as he carefully crafted his next words, “Don’t want this to be a one-time thing. But, we can’t… I’m –”

“John,” you interrupted his turmoil, “In ten days, you’ll be in the House of fucking Commons. Then, you can do whatever you want. Until then…” You reached down and fondled his exhausted cock tenderly, making his body jerk from how sensitive he was, “I can be your little secret.”

He lifted your chin with his thumb just as he had at the start of this dreamlike encounter, kissing you tenderly, making sure he could feel your mouth against his, slipping his tongue over your lips just to reach the ridge of your teeth before pulling back again, his eyes turning back to that lascivious rage, 

“You don’t deserve that. I want them to bloody well know that you’re mine.”

You didn’t ask who “they” were. That was just how John spoke to you. It was always you and him versus them. The media, the Parliament, the world… it didn’t matter. They didn’t matter. But, you knew better than to let idealism cloud your judgment. 

“Be patient, John,” you caressed his cheek, “Win your seat. I’m not going anywhere.”

Finally, a small smile twitched on the corner of his mouth and he held you closer, hugging you to his chest,

“Not true,” he paused, looking down at your quizzical expression, a playful gleam in his eyes, “You’re coming to my flat, crawling in my bed, and letting me fuck that perfect cunt again.”

AO3 Link

[elbiotipo]

vistes que hasta messi está enojado con milei ahora? messi que es un monje asceta que no se posiciona para nada que no sea jugar a la pelota está enojado con milei. cosas extrañas están pasando

Messi y la Scaloneta están enojados con el gobierno porque el Chiqui Mafia Tapia siempre los bancó cuando tuvieron todo en contra. Igual no me cae muy bien el chiqui Tapia, no sé todo el bardo atrás pero hace décadas que la AFA está mal manejada. Pero si querés cambiar el fútbol argentino se me hace que no es empezar por ahí. O si querés cortar la cabeza hacelo bien, porque no jodamos, no es que se meten con la AFA porque están en contra de la corrupción y mejorar el fútbol, es porque quieren privatizar el fútbol estilo Europa y tener clubes comprados por empresarios extranjeros (y ellos sacan las migas)

Capaz exageran el malestar en la Selección pero lo que daría por ver qué alguno se mueva y putee al gobierno de onda.

Supongo que tengo que agradecer igual que Messi no se meta en política, porque un Messi mileísta sería aterrador. Pero también me da un poco de bronca está selección que es TAN apolítica que más que argentinos a veces parecen un club extranjero. Esto era la selección en 2001, cuando López Murphy quizo privatizar las universidades:

Yo sé que a Messi nunca lo voy a ver así, y tampoco lo voy a ver defendiendo muchas otras cosas. Pero bueno, nunca vamos a tener otro Maradona tampoco, con fallas y todo él siempre supo de dónde vino.

[seddenostalgia]

El meme del chabón en el micro feliz por los goles de Messi bajón porque mañana algo sucio en el gobierno hacen mientras todos los medios y las redes están con la goleada

[dom-arktos]

Bueno. Habremos perdido, pero la verdad no me siento ni desilusionado, ni disgustado. Fue un partido increíble, y aunque estuve en desacuerdo con algunas decisiones importantes del árbitro (Jhon Arias), ambos equipos lo dieron todo y no podría estar más orgulloso de mí selección. Mostramos nuestra valía y aguantamos y la peleamos frente a un equipo igualmente increíble tal cómo es Argentina.

Algún disgusto también hubo, tal cómo la lesión de Messi, que hasta a mí me entristeció, pero la experiencia valió la pena.

Los amo mi Sele, los amo Colombia. Los aprecio Argentina, tqm Messi. Muchas gracias por esta Copa, y ojalá sigamos mejorando, no hemos tenido tan buen equipo en años.

¡¡¡Viva Latinoamérica unida!!! ✊🏽🫱🏾‍🫲🏼

[afadaily]

🗣️ Sergio Ramos 🇪🇸 sobre Leo Messi cuando se consagro Campeón del Mundo: “Estaba muy feliz por él, cuando volvió a Francia lo felicite especialmente a él. Messi es la persona que mas se merecía ganar este título porque sufrió un montón, era injusto para él perder 4 finales seguidas, sin embargo nunca se rindió y ganó lo que más anhelaba. Mi manera de verlo cambió completamente cuando jugamos en Paris, es una persona muy humilde que ama a todo el mundo”

📸: barçaworldwide via twitter

[didishawn]

World Cup (Pedri X Messi! Reader)

Insta Au

Warnings: lots of Spanish

Masterlist

Liked by pedri, leomessi and 181,222 others

y/n_messi este mundial con peligro, me quedo sin novio o sin hermano, quiero la segunda o la tercera, sobretodo la tercera, lo siento amor @pedri

ver traducción: this world cup is dangerous, I either lose a boyfriend or a brother, I want the second one or the third one, mostly the third one, sorry love @pedri

gavi ¿qué pasa si hay una final entre España y Argentina y gana España? 🤔🤔🤔

ver traducción: what happens if there is a final in between Spain and Argentina and Spain wins? 🤔🤔🤔

y/n_messi vos atrevete a si quiera intentar ganarle a Argentina, a ver que te pasa, boludito

ver traducción: you even try to win against Argentina, and see what happens to you, dummy

Liked by pedri, leomessi, juliaanalvarez and 98,756 others

y/n_messi una linda recompensa tras la derrota de ayer, Argentina sigue viendo hacia delante, mientras vean al lindo de mi novio, te amo, amor @pedri

ver traducción: a great reward after yesterday's loss, Argentina looks ahead, in the mean time, watch my beautiful boyfriend, I love you @pedri

pedri te amo, sigan confiando, argentinos

ver traducción: I love you, Argentinians keep on having faith

leomessi ayer fue duro, pero seguimos con la ilusión

ver traducción: yesterday was hard, but we keep on with the illusion

y/n_messi te amo hermano, sos un genio y sabemos que hay que confiar en vos y los demás chavones

ver traducción: I love you brother, you are a genius and we know to trust you and the rest

Liked by pedri, pablogavi, ansufati, ferrantorres and 60,122 others

y/n_messi hoy fue un mal día para España y los chicos, pero no por esto hay que estarse triste, ya que la derrota siempre acaba siendo un camino al éxito, todos mis amores a estos pibes a los que amo, sobretodo a vos, mi amor, sos el mejor

ver traducción: today was a bad day for Spain and the guys, but we don't have to be sad, a loss is a way towards success, all my love to this marvelous guys, specially to you, my love, you are the best

pedri tenerte al lado es lo que me mantiene cuerdo

ver traducción: you by my side is the one thing that keeps me sane

comments have been limited in this post

Liked by pedri, leomessi, juliaanalvarez, gavi, kunaguero and 92,182 others

y/n_messi nosotros seguimos acá, Argentina a la final y a por la tercera!!! @pedri

ver traducción: we are still here, Argentina into the finals and towards the third one!!!

kunaguero uy, algo me dice a Leo no le gusta está foto, jeeeeeee

ver traducción: oh, something tells me Leo doesn't like this photo, jeeeee

y/n_messi sos un boludo

ver traducción: you are an idiot

kunaguero besás al Pedri con esa boca?

ver traducción: you kiss Pedri with that mouth?

leomessi cómo es eso de besos?

ver traducción: what is that about kisses?

y/n_messi vos andá pallá, bobo, acá no hay nada para que vos leas, solo tu noviecito siendo un tarado como siempre

ver traducción: you go away, idiot, there is nothing for you to read here, only your boyfriend being stupid as always

pedri la más linda

ver traducción: the prettiest one

leomessi cuidadito donde ponés la mano

ver traducción: be careful where you put your hand

Liked by pedri, leomessi, juliaanalvarez, nicolasotamendi30, kunaguero and 183,122 others

y/n_messi MUCHAAACHOOOS, AHORA NOS VOLVIMÓ A ILUSIONAR, YA TENEMOS LA TERCERA, YA SOMOS CAMPEÓN MUNDIAAL

Este mes ha sido sin duda el más difícil de mi vida, pero merece toda la pena por este mundial. Leo, mi hermano, la persona que más amo en este mundo, ya tenés todo con lo que siempre has soñado, ya no quedan dudas para aquellos quienes se negaban a verte como el mejor del mundo. Te amo a vos y toda la Scaloneta.

ver traducción: GUYYYS, WE HAVE FAITH AGAIN, WE ALREADY WON THE THIRD ONE, WE ARE, ALREADY WORLD CHANPIOONS.

This month has been without doubt the hardest in my entire life, but it was all worth it. Leo, my brother, the person I love the most in this entire world, you already have everything you have ever dreamed about, there are no doubts left for those who have refused to see you as the best in the world. I love you and the entire Scaloneta.

kunaguero que todos los antimessi nos chupen la pija, pa, somos campeones!!!

ver traducción: everyone that is antimessi can suck our dicks, man, we are world champions!!!

y/n_messi kuni, pará, que te va a dar algo con todo ese chapín. Pero sí, váyanse a la poronga todos esos quienes no confiaban!!!

ver traducción: kuni, stop, you will have a stroke with all that champagne. But yes, go to hell those of you who didn't believe!!!

hater you are a joke, Kun Agüero, you are not World champion

y/n_messi of course he is world champion, you unhappy internet troll, go and touch some grass while kuni parties like the world champion he IS

leomessi esta copa también te pertenece a vos quien siempre ha estado a mi lado, lo mismo con el Kun, Gio y demás

ver traducción: this cup belongs to you who has always been by my side, the same goes for Kun, Gio and the rest

pedri hoy ha ganado el mejor del mundo y el mejor equipo, felicidades, chacho! @leomessi

ver traducción: today the best of the world has won as well as the best team, congratulations, dude! @leomessi

juliaanalvarez 🕷️😎

y/n_messi la araña que pica! felicidades juli!!

ver traducción: the spider that bites, congratulations juli!!

papugomez_official 3 estrellitas yaaa, que lindo sale el dibu, que hombre 😍

ver traducción: 3 stars noow, how cute the dibu looks, what a man 😍

emi_martinez26 cuidado que te como, que estaba re loco

ver traducción: be careful or I will eat you, that I was super crazy

y/n_messi @papugomez_official Beckham?

December 18th of 2022 has for surely been a long day when you and Pedri finally crash into you hotel room, waiting to have a small nap before he goes back to Spain, you to celebrate in Argentina of course.

"La próxima vez, seré yo quien ponga una nueva estrella en uno de las camisas que usas" (next time I will be the one to put one more star in one of the shirts you wear)

"¿Me insinuas que por vos me haré hincha de España y que le ganarás a mi amada Argentina?" (you are telling me that you will turn me into a Spain follower and that you will win against my beloved Argentina?)

"Obvio" (obviously)

"Sos un creído vos" (you are son arrogant)

"No le hables así a quien en cuatro años te hará celebrar una final del mundo otra vez" (don't talk like that to who will have you celebrating another World Cup final again)

You don't tell him you hope it's true, you love Argentina, but you still wish for the day tour boyfriend too becomes a world champion to arrive. In the mean time, you just cuddle on the shared bed and dream about the future, keeping in mind that you are a world champion.

[cloudsspoke]

" Yo estaba en la habitación de al lado de Cuti y Licha. Te levantabas y el pasillo era Londres. Abrías la puerta y había un humo increíble. Palo santo había por todos lados. Llegó un momento en que le dije 'Licha, pará un poco' " -- The story of La Banda del Palo Santo as told by Leandro Paredes

💨

IDK, it's either let these three share a room together or give them the connecting room.

....Un error de uno hace que sea más chiquito, porque el otro lo banca o le dice no pasa nada. O porque el otro la arregla sabiendo que es un amigo - Lionel Scaloni on AFAStudio

💙

Cuti - Licha: *happily slanders Molina*

meanwhile, Molina: *tries not to cry while thinking about Cuti - Licha*

Cuti 🤝 Licha

It just had to be that way. The first and only time Cuti, Licha, & Molina played as starters in this World Cup, Molina scored such an amazing goal which gave us this moment when the last players embraced him leaving only Messi, De Paul, Licha, and Cuti.

#TMI: (Probably) the first ever they played together as StartingXI was on this edition of CONMEBOL 2017 (Sub20) with Cuti being Cuti got his 2nd red card (after the 1st one happened exactly right on their 1st match 😂 )

Our 98 Line ~

Many people think Cuti's recent tattoo is a silhouette of their WC photo, but it's actually from the Finalissima one.

UPDATE: LICHA'S NEW TATTOO !!

promesa cumplida: El Moli's tattoo (similar with Licha's)

⭐⭐⭐

Frequently seen together, DO NOT SEPARATE THEM EVER!!