#soccer vines

[angelsumaiya1230]

Real Madrid vs Manchester City Live Score, Analysis, and Predictions for Tonight's High-Voltage Matchup

The highly anticipated match between Real Madrid and Manchester City has just concluded, leaving fans on the edge of their seats until the very end. Both teams put up a tough fight, but in the end, Manchester City emerged as the victor with a score of 2-1.

Watch live click here....

The match was marked by intense action from the very beginning, with both teams demonstrating their skill and determination on the field. Real Madrid took the lead early on with a goal from Karim Benzema, but Manchester City quickly responded with two goals from Kevin De Bruyne and Riyad Mahrez, respectively. Real Madrid fought hard to even the score, but Manchester City's defense held strong, preventing any additional goals from the Spanish team.

The analysis of the match reveals that Manchester City had a clear advantage in terms of possession, with 60% of the ball in their control. This allowed them to create more opportunities and apply more pressure to Real Madrid's defense. The Manchester City players also displayed exceptional passing accuracy, completing 89% of their passes throughout the game.

Real Madrid has a rich football history, winning 13 Champions League titles - more than any other team. Led by legendary coach Zinedine Zidane, Real Madrid has an impressive success record, with star players like Karim Benzema and Sergio Ramos leading the way.

Manchester City, on the other hand, have emerged as a formidable force in recent years. It dominates the English Premier League and excels in the Champions League. With a talented roster that includes Kevin De Bruyne, Riyad Mahrez, and Raheem Sterling, Manchester City is known for its aggressive style of play and relentless pursuit of victory.

When predicting the outcome of tonight's match, it's difficult to say who will win. Both teams have shown themselves capable of greatness, and the game could win either way.

One factor to consider is home-field advantage. Real Madrid will play in their home stadium, the Santiago Bernabeu, where they have a strong success record. The crowd will be heavily in their favor, which could give them an extra boost of motivation and energy on the field.

Manchester City is not to be underestimated. They have a deep bench of talented players, and their aggressive style of play could challenge Real Madrid's defense. If they control possession and create scoring opportunities, they could win.

Another factor to consider is the recent performance. Real Madrid has been battling in their domestic league, La Liga, while Manchester City have been on a winning streak in the Premier League. This could give Manchester City a psychological advantage, as they come into the game with more momentum and confidence.

Ultimately, the outcome of the match will depend on a variety of factors - including each team's strategy, player performance, and luck. It's impossible to predict the outcome with 100% certainty, but one thing is for sure: it's going to be an electrifying game that fans won't want to miss.

[incorrect-futbol-quotes]

*at 3am*

Thomas: *runs into Mats’ room and turns on the light* Wake up sleepyhead!

Mats: *wakes up* Dude!

Thomas: *cackles*

Marco: *sits up from where he was sleeping behind Mats* What the fuck, Müller?

Thomas: *jaw drops* Wait WHAT-

[abelsstim]

willow park stimboard!

x x x - x x - x x x

not a request

[coachtfd]

AUSTRALIA HAVE DONE IT!!! THE DRAMA, OH THE DRAMA!!!

🐨🐨🐨

🇦🇺

[her-canine-teeth]

VINES THEN? I DONT KNOW

no idea how much this is actually like true.

SRY sometimes audios cut off a bit i think

[lenaswritingandstuff]

Hugo on his blog: Welcome back to me screaming.

Hugo: AAAAAH. AAAAAAAAAH.

[futfemfantasies]

I love her 😂😭😭😭

This is who secured Australia’s spot in their first World Cup semi-finals btw

[dyketennant]

it's always "when you wake up next to him in the middle of the night with your head in your hands you're nothing more than his wife and when you think about me all of those years ago you're standing face to face with i told you so" and never "when you told me 'bout your first time a soccer player at the senior high i felt my body crumble to the floor betrayal like i've never felt before i thought back to many years ago a late night promise on the telephone we'd build a house of twigs and vines grow old together just to pass the time now there's only past and present day i can't believe a word you say the future isn't worth its weight in gold the future is a benevolent black hole"

[lalunanymph]

rin used to believe he was undeserving of love until you came along to show him otherwise.

-> fem!reader, mdni for seggsy love-making :>>

a/n. rin as a character was made for love *drops mic n runs*

“look at me.”

your boyfriend’s voice, so deep and resonant, filled you with a sense of love so strong, you were sure you could just crumble.

rin hovered above you, his presence like the sun, burning painfully behind your closed lids, but intimately spreading warmth over every inch of your skin.

it’s maddening how much of a hold he has on you. rin was inked into your soul like a tattoo, every beat of your heart whispering cadences of love for him and him alone. brushing back his glossy dark green bangs from his face, you take the opportunity to cup his cheeks.

(those cheeks that stubbornly held onto remnants of some puppy fat—never fully melting away even as he’s already a man of 25).

your thumbs draw slow patterns on the high planes of his cheekbones, and rin is almost drowning from the overwhelming pangs in his heart at how soft you look right now; how perfect you were for him in every sense of the word.

mine, his heart sang. all mine.

and rin would never admit it out loud but he’s a terribly selfish man when it comes to you.

… especially when it comes to you.

for years he had to contend with living in his older brother’s shadow—manipulated by his apathy and disinterest to become the best at everything he could be—that he almost failed to realize how many precious moments he let slip away.

you were close to being one of those chances he nearly lost.

but, ever since he saw you in the stands, wearing his jersey (even though the only thing he knew about you was that your face was far too pretty to be sitting this close to the barrier)—rin was already yours.

(he thanks his stars every single day his sharp eyes caught your lovely grin from amongst a sea of nameless faces.)

it’s pathetic, really.

rin wishes his stupid heart wouldn’t be this soft; this susceptible to a drop of kindness.

he thinks he doesn’t deserve it.

who is he, really, to have the privilege to feel your soft breaths caressing his ear as you shakily tell him ‘please—need you deeper in me, rin’?

how does even begin to fathom that he is deserving of your glassy smile when you hook your thighs tighter around his slim waist?

nobody. i am nobody.

“rin,” you keen softly, carding your fingers through his hair, lower lip taken hostage by your perfect teeth. “you feel so good, baby.”

your nails stab into his shoulder, but he ignores the bite of pain because it reminds him of how completely, tragically and wonderfully human he truly is. not some soccer demi-god striking through the endless thicket of upheavals and callous disregard to reach for the heavens where the gods resided.

but a man.

purely and wholly human and so, so deserving of love.

rin lets his emotions run wild in this bedroom; letting the love, passion and yearning consume him till he’s gasping for breath, getting onto his knees so he can worship you like you absolutely deserve.

the world tilts for a split second, your sanity anchored only by his strong arms around your waist. rin has you straddling his lap, your thighs hooked around his mid-section like an ever-loving vine. this position drove his cock deeper into you, moulding as one with your walls like he was made for you.

“rin,” you gasp, slotting your face into his neck, unable to take the piercing teal stare worming its way into your soul. “nghmm—f-fuck… can feel so deep in me…”

your words fade out into a whine and rin thinks his clandestine grin could’ve rivaled a cheshire cat’s. his strong hands effortlessly grasp at your waist, rocking you up and down his cock to hit all your sweet spots; drinking in every drunken moan of his name leaving your pleasure-soaked lips.

“look at me,” he commanded again, but this time, there’s an edge to his tone—desperation.

it made him throb all over when you meekly peel yourself from his neck, fixing your teary eyes onto him. he knows the intensity of this situation; how hard it is for you to look him at him squarely when he’s wrecking your body so confidently and passionately.

(you would always be the moon and he was your burning sun, piercing hot with vitality).

rin remembers how he used to be like a caged tiger waiting to be released; his long dormant affection for anyone waiting for the right catalyst.

that’s when you came along and everything was all right with the universe for the first time.

the tears sticking your lashes together make his heart double in speed, and rin’s panting like he’s on the verge of scoring a risky goal. the bed frame shakes underneath his relentless thrusting and your eager reciprocation. he can feel the sweet, tight muscles forming his nirvana squeezing down oh-so-perfectly on his cock like the prettiest love confession.

“good girl. good, good, girl… so good. there you go, there you go,” he coaxes, kneading your ass feverishly with his large, sturdy palms. “you’re so close, fuckkk—you’re close. let’s cum together, baby. do it with me? please.”

rin has never shamelessly begged for anything in his life quite like how he’s begging you to cum together with him. he’s delirious, one step closer to whiting out from the sheer pleasure. he feels nothing but your cheek press to his cheek, your breaths shared as one; the slightest tickling pressure of your lashes against his forehead.

the both of you were as close as humanly possible but rin is a greedy man. he wants more—demands for more.

“tell me you’re mine.” his strain words drew a lick of surprise on your features, but the snarl on his face was enough to tell you that he was putty to your addictive pussy. “tell me you’re mine and mean it.”

a simple enough request considering he meant everything to you.

“yours,” you hiccup, pressing an open mouth kiss to his jaw. it’s sloppy and desperate but it appeases him nonetheless. his nose rubs against yours, and you feel your heart kick up a notch when he starts to graze your lips with his; giving you soft, barely there kisses that contrast vividly with his heavy thrusts. “i’m all yours, rin. all yours.”

“f-fuck…” he lines his forehead with yours, and something about how intimate this position is, how needy his perfectly hot and rough his hands felt running down your back, has you close to tears.

rin tilts his face to slot your lips closer, and tastes your tears staining his tongue.

he doesn’t comment on them; merely smears them away one by one with his mouth, peppering your cheeks and chin with heavy, sloppy kisses that distract him from the tightening coil in his belly. you kiss him back ardently—passionately—with everything you have; everything which wasn’t already his.

his ears are ringing and his breath is coming out in dense pants. rin is drowning in you; your scent, your taste, your arms around him, your tongue in his mouth. it pushes him down the edge the same moment your pussy seizes around his cock.

those sweet muscles flutter and squeeze with such immaculate perfection he could weep, and rin swears he does; swears a tear dances off his lash line and splatters somewhere on your shoulder. i’ve never cried before, he told you once during your earlier dating days.

what a goddamn lie that turned out to be.

you careen down the edge with as much poise as he did; which is to say, you press him deeper into the crook of your neck, body writhing in this white-hot dance with his name echoing off these walls.

rin can barely feel his legs when he sets you back down onto the bed, curling himself above you as the dear curve of his head rests solidly in between your breasts—a familiar weight you love.

tangling your fingers in his hair, you gently scratch his scalp and he grunts, in a daze from his orgasm and clingier than usual

“rin?” your soft voice blends as one into the warm afterglow.

he hums and lifts his head, drowsy teal eyes and sated little smirk eliciting a sweet giggle from you.

“i love you.”

he sighs happily, content when you start to card your fingers through his hair again.

there’s not a lifetime in this universe where he doesn’t imagine himself to be yours.

“i love you, too.”

and there’s not a moment in your life where you ever underestimate the privilege of fully owning itoshi rin’s heart.

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[babybluewoso]

The Blaugrana Beat: A Tale of Love Beyond the Pitch || alexia putellas x reader

once upon a time, in the sun-kissed streets of Barcelona, two hearts danced to the rhythm of childhood innocence. Alexia Putellas and Emerson Jones were inseparable, their laughter echoing through the narrow alleys as they chased after soccer balls and dreams. They were more than friends; they were soulmates, their bond forged in the fiery passion of youth.

Emerson, with her unruly curls and mischievous eyes, was a blend of English pragmatism and Spanish fire. She had spent fifteen vibrant years in Spain, soaking up the Mediterranean sun and falling in love with the game that would shape her destiny. Alexia, on the other hand, was all grace and determination. Her Spanish roots ran deep, and her love for soccer was etched into her very bones.

Emerson is the girl who never liked to wear frocks, who couldn't stay still for a minute,  and who always loves to cause trouble. alexia, on the other hand, is the angel everyone adores, sure she did play soccer but she loved to dress up as a princess only for her Emerson. From a very young age Alexia wanted to be with Emerson she never knew why, but whenever another girl touched her Emerson she would explode. their parents, especially Emerson's brothers tease them because growing up  Alexia is the tallest one out of both of them.

after years of pinning over each other, they admitted their feelings to each other. Their love story began innocently—a stolen kiss behind the bleachers, secret notes passed during class, and late-night conversations under the star-studded sky. They were childhood sweethearts, their hearts entwined like the vines that adorned the ancient walls of the Camp Nou stadium. 

however life has a way of twisting fate, and when Emerson’s family announced their return to England, the world tilted on its axis. She tried to explain it to Alexia, her voice trembling with the weight of impending separation. But Alexia misunderstood, her heart shattered into a thousand shards. She believed Emerson was leaving because she had grown tired of their love, that their shared dreams were mere illusions.

In a moment of pain and desperation, Alexia lashed out. 

"you know what I never liked you anyway, you foolishly thought that I loved you huh? guess what I would never, ever love someone like you" she spat, her eyes betraying the lie.

Emerson’s heart fractured, "No no you're lying. ale, you know I will always find my way back to you. always, I can't do anything about this situation. I love you. I- I- "

"stop it. go back to your stupid country. I bet you already have some chick lined up for you huh??"

"ale this isn't you"

"stop calling me that. and get the hell out of here" and she left Barcelona with tears staining her jersey.

Years passed, Emerson’s life took unexpected turns and so did her body. once the smallest kid in the town is now the tallest giant in the town. but her personality stays the same way, with her side smirk and the messy blonde hair, England women lined up for her attention. But none of them matter to her when her heart always belongs to a certain Catalan girl.  

Emerson honed her skills, rising through the ranks until she stood at the precipice of her dreams—a chance to sign with FC Barcelona. But fate had a wicked sense of humor. Alexia, now a seasoned player herself, was the team captain. the news of Emerson Jones joining Barca flew like wildfire. before she knew it, she was packing her bags to go back to Spain. where she lost her first love. She is ready to prove that she came here to stay. Even Alexia’s words rang in her head all the time; she had faith in their love.

Lucy Bronze, her England teammate has taken it up on herself to introduce Emerson to the team. Emerson is so happy to be back in Barcelona, but that is not the only reason, she wanted to see Alexia apparently the girl had some captain duties to do. after changing into her new training kit, she made her way onto the field.

lunchtime rolled over still no sign of the captain, so Emerson let out a quiet sign and ate her lunch. but little did she know the captain was looking from the physio room this entire time. Alexia couldn't bring herself to meet Emerson again. She knew it was childish, she was the team captain one way or another they must meet again.

After lunch, the team had their evening gym session. which Alexia had to participate in. Again, Lucy took it upon herself to introduce the two ex-lovers.

"Hello," Emerson’s Yorkshire accent dripped down due to being so many years in England.

alexia has to admit that it was very hot but she dismissed that thought quickly. She takes a quick look at Emerson’s body, she is not the same girl who she used to be. alexia is one of the tallest players in the squad after Irene, Ingrid, and Frido but never in her wildest dreams, she would have thought that Emerson would be this tall. Emerson, standing at an imposing 6 feet tall, defies convention with her androgynous allure. Her frame, though linear, conceals a quiet strength—a testament to her disciplined lifestyle. Her jawline, sharp as a blade, accentuates her femininity, while her ocean-blue eyes hold depths of mystery. no wonder why England women were so caught up with her charm.

"hola, espero que no caus cap problema aquí"(hello hope you don't cause any trouble here) She greeted Emerson’s return with icy indifference, her walls fortified against the girl who had once held her heart. 

Emerson couldn't understand a word she said but she knew Alexia wasn't very pleased with her presence. swallowing hard Emerson tried to start a conversation with her;

"How are you doing ale?? it's been some time"

"Mira aquí no em pots dir ale perquè no és el meu nom, només els meus amics I la família em poden dir així, I l'última vegada que vaig composer que no eres ni familiar ni amic meu." (look you can't call me ale here because that's not my name only my friends and family can call me that, and last time I checked you were neither family nor friend of mine)

lucy who had seen the whole interaction stepped in, "Hey hey I don't know what happened with you two but save it for late si?" with that Alexia left without another word.

"she hates me" Emerson whispered.

"no shit Sherlock. what did you do to her, and how did you two know each other, did you sleep with each other? omg if so this is not going to end well. You have to tell me everything "

-- -

A few days passed Emerson befriended almost everyone on the team. alexia hated that too, Emerson has friends now. As a captain of the team, she had some power over a few things. 

alexia refused to talk in English she even abandoned the other players to talk in English too. poor Keira never saw it coming. She explained the drills in Spanish, and Emerson felt hopeless. it was quite obvious within the team that alexia hated her but only Lucy and Kiera knew the real reason.

after a grueling training session, Alexia called the team over to have a free kick challenge.

"Farem un repte de tir lliure si ho perdeu, hauteur de córrer 10 volts" (we're gonna do a free kick challenge if you miss, you'll have to run 10 laps) Alexia said with a straight face, again Emerson couldn't understand a word she said but after watching her other teammates she knew it was a free kick challenge.

when it came to Emerson's chance she felt extra nervous, she had taken plenty of free kicks in her life but with the way Alexia was watching, she felt really uncomfortable.

she took a breath and kicked the ball, safe to say it never found its way back on the net.

"de nuevo"(again) alexia seethed.

Emersson’s every touch of the ball felt like a plea for forgiveness, but Alexia remained unyielding. She masked her pain with sharp words and frosty glances, pushing Emerson away. Yet, beneath the surface, the embers of their love still smoldered. The tension between them was palpable, a magnetic pull that defied reason.

---------

days after the free kick incident, it was time to face El Classico, but most importantly Emerson's debut for Barca.

alexia couldn't play due to her knee injury but she was at the stands cheering her teammates.

in the 56th minute, Emerson was subbed in, and from that very moment, the match began to escalate. chances were created, and space was used within two minutes Emerson scored her debut goal for her club. after that goal, Real Madrid became reckless with their tackless, and all of them were aimed at Emerson.

after another thirty-five minutes, the game was over securing a Barcelona win which was nothing new for the team.

however, nobody saw how bad was Emerson, her whole body was aching, and she was exhausted physically and mentally. but she masked it with a small smile on her face. alexia saw right pass through it. she wanted to help but her mind wouldn't let her. 

after thanking the fans Emerson made her way to the physio room to clean up her bruises. to her absolute luck, nobody was there to help. she couldn't care more so she made her way to one of their tables and took off her shirt.

meanwhile, Alexia was caught up in her own battle in her head. She wanted to help Emerson so badly but at the same time, she wanted to hurt her the same way she did.

that's when Lucy came from behind. "go after her. She needs you more than anything"

"I needed her too, but where was she then?"

"don't punish her without knowing the full story"

"easy for you to say, Lucia"

-----

The silence of the locker room was punctuated by the sound of footsteps. Emerson, still reeling from the match’s physical toll, looked up to see Alexia approaching. Her face was a mask of professionalism, but her eyes betrayed a storm of emotions.

“Emerson,” Alexia began, her voice steady and in English, a language she hadn’t used with her for over a decade. “I need to check those bruises you've got.”

Emerson’s eyes widened in surprise. “Alexia?" 

"You’re speaking to me in English?”

She didn’t waver. “Yes, I am. Can we put our past aside for a moment? Your well-being is my priority right now.”

she nodded, still taken aback by the change. “Of course.”

As she tended to her injuries, the tension between them was palpable. Emerson broke the silence, “Why now, after all these years?”

Alexia paused, her hands momentarily still. “Because hate is a heavy burden to carry, and I see no point in holding onto it any longer.”

Emerson searched her face for a hint of the love they once shared. “Do you… do you ever think about us?”

She sighed a trace of sadness in her eyes. “Every day. But we can’t change the past, Emerson. We can only learn from it.”

she reached out, gently touching her hand. “I’m sorry, Alexia. For everything.”

She met her gaze, her own hand covering hers. “I know. And I forgive you. But let’s focus on healing these bruises for now.”

They shared a look, a silent understanding passing between them. Perhaps this was the first step towards mending what had been broken, not just in flesh, but in heart and spirit.

The world blurred, and for a moment, they were just two girls who had once shared secrets and dreams.

Alexia’s eyes held a storm of emotions—regret, longing, and a hint of fear. “Why did you leave?” she whispered, her voice raw. “Why did you break my heart?”

Emersson’s gaze bore into hers. “I had no choice,” she confessed. “My family needed me. But I never stopped loving you.”

The truth hung heavy in the air, and Alexia’s walls crumbled. She cradled Emersson’s face, her thumb brushing away tears. “I was wrong,” she murmured. “I never stopped loving you either.”

And in that moment, the rivalry dissolved, replaced by a love that had weathered storms and crossed continents. Emerson signed with Barça, not as an enemy but as a lover—a woman who had fought for her dreams and her heart.

As they celebrated victory on the hallowed grounds of Camp Nou, Alexia whispered against Emersson’s lips, “Welcome home.”

And Emerson knew that sometimes, love was a game worth playing, even when the odds were stacked against you. They had gone from childhood sweethearts to enemies, but now, they stood on the brink of a new chapter—a love rekindled, stronger than ever before.

p.s. - this is my first story so bear with me. :)

[katasstrophy]

Bruh Nagi being buff as hell after Manshine's training 🥰🥰🥰

sammy you deadass bout to make me objectify this man on main SO BAD this has been running something of a small marathon in my head so 😵‍💫😵‍💫 pls accept my humble word vomit

cw. [n]sfw. mdni. pro player! nagi + aged-up characters. bit of body worship(?) you ride his abs. nipple play (m. receiving). subby nagi (but he's actually a switch >:) + some fluff bc he's so baby :(

note. a bit rambly oop soz it’s bc i went insane. i describe how he looks like to ME (re: hot as fuck) but i guess y'all can read it too hehe<3

1.4k words -> how could you ever hope to keep your hands to yourself when nagi's body looks like that.

i feel like unless you have prior knowledge of the fact that nagi is a pro athlete, from a cursory glance, your first thought upon seeing him wouldn’t be “hmm i bet that dude is built like a brick house.” it doesn’t help that nagi’s basically the unofficial king of athleisure — his closet’s chockfull of loose-fitting hoodies and sweats. he barely owns anything else besides those monochrome hooded tracksuits (and sportswear for practice, i guess he’d need some of that too lol) because he claims it’s the only outfit that gives him unlimited access to just lounge about basically anywhere he pleases. it’s what he genuinely finds to be the most comfortable style for him as well. but if you’re fortunate enough to get a peak underneath the layers of baggy clothes? dear god nagi’s built like a fever dream. amen you’ll eat so good then he’s a whole ass feast. 

i’m gonna brazenly speak my truth here so don’t come for me >:( but! from what you’d consider to be “a typical footballer’s physique”, purely from that perspective, nagi’s legs are… not that impressive. his stagnant motivation has much improved ever since he committed to making a career out of soccer, but that doesn’t mean his slacker tendencies haven’t followed suit. don’t get me wrong, he still puts his all into every game so his legs are still very much capable of making your mouth water, but you won’t catch him sprinting up and down the field at full speed if he can help it. packed with lean muscle, his thighs are thick, calves well-defined with a few bold veins thinly zigzagging down the taut skin like a lightning strike on the occasion you happen to catch him after a particularly gruelling conditioning session. but compared to some of his teammates whose legs seem to be carved from iron, he’s a bit.. overshadowed.

it’s a fairly similar story with his arms. (i promise i’m not just talking shit lol i could NEVER my poor meow meow it’s gonna get so hot in a second i swear just bear with me!!!) again, it’s most definitely a drool-worthy sight. the stretch of his arms is long and sinewy, rolling with a set of generous biceps that flutter under the gentle scrap of your fingerpads and nails when he (totally intentionally) flexes the swell of muscle there. in his profession, he mostly uses his arms for balance and to create distance between himself and his opponents. buried in his private nook back home, he has a tendency to hold his phone above his head while playing mobile games — that blissfully only rarely come crashing down on his face — but his unrivalled favourite will, of course, always be enveloping you in his arms <3 

nagi’s not the most expressive person, but his subtle social cues become much easier to pick up on whenever he’s sleepy, which let’s be honest is almost always. he’s in dire need of a snuggle in those moments and not only loves, but craves being close to you physically, his face a canvas of huffy evidence of what a Big Deal this is to him if you learn to read the hidden hints (it’s a pursed, pouty frown nine times out of ten he ain’t slick lmfao). he kind of regards your presence as his “recharging station” what a cringe fail soggy loser man i adore him with my whole heart 🥹 his lanky limbs will snake around you with the security of a vine until you’re all cosy and wrapped up in each other, his hold bearing enough strength to not budge against any playful escape tactics you might attempt — at least not until he decides he’s had his fair share of quality snuggle time with you. 

nagi’s a practical man, however — the world doesn’t call him a lazy genius for nothing. for these, albeit lovely, purposes, he determined there’s absolutely no need to overexert himself by lifting weights to buff up his arms. he can get by just fine! there are definitely more jacked arms out there i’m sorry :(

but here’s the kicker. nagi’s tall. you could even say he’s huge — he’d tower over most people if he actually straightened his posture for once. so his muscle mass kind of stretches out a bit… unevenly throughout his body. he does have muscle mass though, plenty of it, actually, and he needs only to do one tiny little thing to remind you of it: lift his shirt up. 

it’s a subconscious, everyday thing for nagi to toy with the hem of his cotton tees. his fingers often grow restless if they’re just lying about, so playing with the material of his clothes is not only stupidly ready at hand but also helps to soothe the itch brimming along his fingers to do something with them. in the process, you’re rewarded with glimpses of his stomach often when he involuntarily ends up exposing the skin clinging to those hard planes. but what’s objectively worse for your sanity is when nagi comes trudging into the kitchen to ease his thirst. he never bothers with a glass from the cupboard, just swoops down to drink from the open tap, his adam’s apple bopping rhythmically as he swallows. there’s water coating his lips when he rises, a few droplets still running down his chin that he tugs on the ends of his t-shirt to lazily wipe away. it’s an innocent endeavour to him, but a sinful display for you, as it essentially shows off his entire, deliciously shaped midriff. nagi might slack off in other areas, but his core strength is insane. his torso is like a gift from the heavens, chiselled after the image of their gods and heroes. don’t even get me started on his abs.

because i cannot stress enough how perfect nagi’s abs are for grinding your sweet, drooling little cunny on :( the ridges of muscle packed together at his abdomen are firm, but twitch almost uncontrollably when you slowly drag your cunt up and down the sculpted slabs of his stomach that bump against your poor, swollen clit in a way that makes you delirious. your thighs bracket his waist as you move, his waist that is so trim and almost tiny compared to the broad stretch of his shoulders. you can feel the coarse, light hair of his happy trail graze against your bare ass, leading to his heavy, stirring cock still confined in his sweats for now as you continue to leisurely rut your pussy down his abs, leaving a slick mess behind. the hard cut of his v-line is so prominent a thin contour of shadow clings to the underside of it.

nagi wishes desperately that he could help you, that he could sink his fingers into the plush of your skin and push you down along his abdomen to accelerate your high, dictate a more intense pace for you by his hands and make you take it, but he’s too busy being a moaning, blubbering mess underneath you to take initiative. his large palm lies dormant at your waist, the other tangled in his snowy, sweaty bangs so he doesn’t miss even a blink of the intoxicating vision you present above him. he’s drunk on every salacious sound that comes tumbling from your lips, every wanton contortion of your gorgeous face as the lewd squelching of your pussy fills his ears. his defined chest is flushed red from arousal, shuddering with shaky exhales as he all but devours the sight of you — he thinks you using him for your own pleasure is so fucking hot. 

if you want to turn him into an utter wreck, whining like a bitch in heat, please please play with his nipples :( paw at his pecs all needy first, ‘n don’t be afraid to grip the flesh with the blunt of your nails. he’ll mewl about it, but you only need to shush and praise him, tell him how good he looks like this for you and he’ll behave. pinch at the pretty pink of his pebbled nipples, gently circle his areola with your tongue, sucking on the bud and nagi will lose his mind, might even cum untouched :( but that’s okay because he’s so turned on his refractory period is barely an issue, he’ll sink into your tight, sloppy walls in one go and fuck you absolutely senseless on his cock. it’s all you can do to scramble for purchase with your trembling fingers, marking up the milky expanse of his broad back and mouthing at his collarbones to stifle your near pornographic keens and cries as he mercilessly splits you open.

in conclusion nagi seishiro is built like a wet dream and i want him carnally </3

[incorrect-futbol-quotes]

Ramos: Now, the recipe calls for 2 shots of vodka. 

Ramos: *upends the bottle*

[hysteria-things]

༄ PROLOGUE ☼

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: greece is your family’s number one vacation destination. you meet a boy there, being oblivious to what your future holds with him.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF, crying

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 631

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: GUYS I’M SO EXCITED FOR THIS SERIES YOU HAVE NO IDEA

the heat from the sun beams down on your skin. your family goes on a vacation to greece every year in the summer, and you must say, it’s your favorite time of year.

to be more specific, the island is called skopelos.

the three of you stay in the same hotel each year. it looks a bit run down, but in reality, it’s beautiful.

it’s owned by an older woman, who your parents befriended for how many times you’ve been to this place.

hotel villa donna is made full of white brick, with a blue roof and green vines with more gorgeous flowers decorating the walls.

it has a big courtyard and a handful of rooms surrounding it. despite it being smaller than an average hotel, it’s perfect.

the view of the beach and the main dock is breathtaking, the water traveling far and wide. at night, the fairy lights make it look dimly lit and calm.

currently, you’re laying on that same beach in your bathing suit with your eyes closed, getting a nice tan.

the waves and the conversations of other people flood your ears, the squawking of seagulls above you.

“oomph!” you huff out when an object lands hard on your stomach.

“way to go, chris. you hit the poor girl.” a voice yells in the distance.

“oh, shut up, nick.” another voice, who you’re assuming is chris, argues back.

a shuffling of sand gets more intense as if it’s moving close to you.

you take off your sunglasses, squinting your eyes at the boy hovering above and grabbing the soccer ball.

“i am so sorry for my idiot brother. are you okay?” he asks worriedly, his blue orbs widening in concern.

his damp brunette hair blows in the wind, cheeks red from a little sunburn. he’s handsome.

“it’s all good.” you giggle, sitting up. “it didn’t hurt me or anything.”

he sighs of relief. “thank god. i’m matt, by the way.”

you smile. “y/n.”

“isn’t it crazy that we’ve been together for six years?” matt says, swinging your hand in his as you walk to… wherever.

matt said he had a surprise for you, but insisted you’d be blindfolded for it. you know you’re outside because the grass tickles your ankles.

“yeah, i know.” you start, following his guidance. “all because chris hit me with a soccer ball.”

he laughs, letting go of your hand. “matt? where’d you go?” you call out.

then, the sound of ‘i have a dream’ plays softly on a harp. what the hell?

you feel his fingers lift the fabric over your eyes, removing it. you gasp.

both of you are standing under a cherry blossom tree, the petals falling around you two. he knows how much you love the outdoors and nature.

you finally look at matt, who’s tearing up and grinning widely. “matt—”

“i love you so much.” he sniffles, putting his hands into his pockets. he doesn’t like to get all sappy, but for you, he has no problem doing it. “as i look into your eyes, i see a future brighter than i could have ever imagined. every day spent by your side feels like a gift, and i am endlessly grateful for your love and companionship.”

“shut up,” you say, your hands covering your mouth as tears start to spill from your eyes.

“y/n.” he gets on one knee, taking a velvet box out of his jacket. “will you do the incredible honor and be my wife?”

now, here you are, gushing widely at the remaining envelopes in your hands. you read off the names as you slide them into the slit of the mailbox. “chris, nick, nate, clem, and madi.”

this is it. you are officially going to get married to the love of your life.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828

[exhaslo]

Now, a (somewhat) happy one!!! 🥳

You know how Gabriella plays soccer in ATSV? If CorruptionAUreader's and Villainmiguel's child (like 3-6) played soccer and was REALLY good at it, how do you think they would react.

Cause all I'm imagining is Child and Miguel playing soccer in the backyard and Child (unknowingly using spidy-senses) kicking his ass( cause yk, no spidy-sense).

Do you think he'd be proud? Would he be angry and embarrassed that he got beat by a(HIS OWN) child? Or, would he be proud in a cynical way cause that technically meant that his whole plan worked/is working?

(literally thought of this because I was watching old vines and came across the one where that little boy out plays his sister. It was funny. Lmk if you want a link to it)

I'll totally watch that video bc I miss/love vines.

Oh, Miguel would be thrilled! If I had to pick, Miguel would be both proud of his child for beating him and proud about his evil plan working.

Of course, Miguel would have several kids with reader. He wants as many super powered humans as possible.

At the end of the day, Miguel would be proud of any accomplish his children did. Especially if they did something that shocked Miguel. No matter how small the accomplishment, Miguel would be proud.

Now, if one of his children were slacking in anyway, you know that Miguel would be giving them harsh training. Oh yea, these kids gonna have some issues. At least they got reader to be the sweeter of the two parents.

[frogs-crackcorner]

Choose your own story: Fae edition

Welcome to Choose Your Own Story, where I set the scene and you write the story!

It's been centuries since the fae and mortal world's combined. Most humans had died during the great war. Those that survived were seen as lowly creatures or animals, many became slaves. Those that didn't were sold as pets to the wealthy fae. Humans became increasingly more rare. This is how you find yourself surrounded by four, rather intimidating, fae generals. The king decided to reward their hard work by gifting you to them.

The fiercest and leader among them was Price. A broad, sturdy man with a thick beard and bits of mossy green dotting his skin. He was said to be a monster on the battlefield. He could bend and command the earth to his will. Rocks would break and explode, vines would decimate enemy armies. He was truly the best of them all.

Next in command was Ghost. He was tall, hulking mass of muscle. A large gash in his cheek hung open revealing his molars and his body was covered in scars and wounds that never seemed to fully heal. It must be part of his magic because liquid never spilled out of his mouth as he drank. Ghost was the commander of death. Sudden and silent, his power of disease wiped out armies without a single arrow fired.

After Ghost came Gaz. Gaz was a charming, slender fae. With dark skin and bright eyes, it was hard to suspect him as being a formidable warrior. He was known to be able to drown a thousand men without anyone ever seeing a drop of water. His power of water was also highly regarded for supplying fresh water to exhausted soldiers.

Last up was Mactavish. A muscular man with a wild Mohawk and fiery eyes. He was the wild card. His power of fire was known to get out of hand on occasion. He had an obsession with explosions and destruction, he seemed to thrive in the chaos. He was unwavering, unpredictable, and undefeated.

As ruthless as these men were, they knew how fragile mortals could be. They made sure to get plenty of enrichment for you. Any activity you wanted to do they made it happen. Sewing kits. Bowling pins. Acrylic paints. Swings. Soccer balls. Any hobby you decided to try they made sure you had everything you needed. They built a library for you in the house. Put a garden in the backyard. You practically had your own little zoo with the amount of animals they got you.

They also made sure to give you plenty of tasks to do. A list of tricks that all humans should know. How to sweep. How to wash a dish. How to get dressed. How to feed themselves .The list goes on. Every fae that owns a human should know how much work they are. Humans are not as developed or cultured as the fae are, every fae knows that to be fact.

Sure, they can be a little demeaning at times but you were used to that. It's how every fae treated you and some were down right cruel. But you knew these four were well intentioned albeit a little misguided. They really did care for you. The high class society they had grown up in had taught them that humans were low life forms that should be cared for similar to house pets. Humans were things to own and show off.

You were taught the same. Your whole purpose in life was to be owned. To be a good pet. You had been sent to school at the age of 13 to be taught how to be a pet. But deep down, you knew you wanted more. You were smart. You could do so much more than be a party trick. Deep down, you didn't want to be just a pet.

Now you have a choice to make

[skele-bunny]

could we still get some Dahlia thoughts even tho she didnt win the poll? (also, I tried finding the fic for her yesterday but I cant find it, do you have a link for it?)

I got so excited seeing this it went straight to the front of the queue wjskkx LMAO. Dahlia hasn't been posted yet :3 obligatory tag for @hypnoneghoul

Dahlia was the oops baby of Swissalps. Swiss didn't even have ANY idea he was knocked up until he was 12 weeks. They had just gotten back from tour and Mountain had been BEGGING him to get checked out as obviously this wasn't a normal cold picked up from humans.

When he found out he just... Kinda paled. Him? Knocked up? There's no way in hell. Do another test... No, that one can't be right either. There's NO way! Ohh, but yes way. He ended up walking back to the den in a daze, finding Mountain and talking to him about the results. They talked for HOURS. Mountain completely neutral on any choice Swiss wanted, Swiss at a loss of what to do.

Laying cuddled up that night before he finally whispered he wanted to keep it. "Then we'll keep them... If in the end, we don't want them, we'll talk to the delivery team, okay?" Mountain nuzzling down on Swiss' neck. "Okay..."

They told the others pretty quickly, getting excited and supportive reactions! Papa even sat them down and had an equally long discussion about how they'd move forward for tours, etc! He was happy to start arranging accomodations and care, even saying how he'll start getting things for a nursery if that's what they wanted (they ended up asking him to wait a bit on that.)

You'd think Swiss was an earth ghoul from how frequent he got flowers in his hair, but they very much copied what he was feeling. Lilies when he was upset, roses when Mountain or someone did something really nice for him, or dead flowers when he wasn't feeling well or just in a bad depression rut.

One time he got mad at Cirrus for some reason, and as she went to follow him in the room, vines shot out from a nearby pothos they kept and completely closed off the entry. After that, it wasn't uncommon for vines to be covering Swiss like a cocoon when he wanted to be left alone or felt like he was in danger.

When he finally had their little daughter? Oh she was perfect in every way. Honestly looked a lot more like Swiss minus the hooves and her horns matching Mountain's. She loved chewing on her hooves a lot, biggest gummy smile ever, chewing on Swiss' braid.

Her name is Dahlia, and literally has the WORST bambi legs. Despite this, she's always had a knack for sports especially (American) soccer. Even as a kit would squeal watching the children of sin playing, or when they'd turn it to the American channel. When she was able to get leg braces? PHEW it was done for.

Just super loud, "Dad! Think fast!" And kick it towards Mountain, only to completely miss and break the window. "Oops..."