#argentina fem

[zoetheflower006]

Hola Tumblr ¡no los olvide! Les dejo a una nueva personaje ┏(＾0＾)┛🇦🇷🌞~

[moonsfavoritedaughter]

ok so a friend of mine, @geeker231354 , just gave me some big news, turns out that my president has a fursona, and i dont know how to feel about it

[multiversal-fiction]

Lionel Messi Headcanon

▫️Pairing: Lionel Messi x Female Reader

▫️Synopsis: Being Married to Lionel Messi

In the early mornings, when cuddled up in bed together, they never just talk, they fill up their morning with light kisses and soft touches, especially from Leo, he’s the epitome of soft.

He definitely has your name tattooed somewhere on his body, somewhere when he’s playing a match and everyone can see that he belongs to you 

He’s quiet and a lil bit shy in public but with you at home he is very needy for your affection

When he scores, he likes to dedicate his win to you, blowing kisses, pointing to your name on his body esc..

I feel like after a game, he comes home and just lays on top of you after an exhausting day, he just relishes in your soft touches, you cute forehead kisses and your relaxing vanilla scent he adores so much. 

Now lets talk about the sex with this man...

He 100% knows your body better than you do 

He can be rough when he wants to be, but most of the time he is a very passionate lover, especially when he goes down on you. 

He worships your body, when he’s around you he has to have some sort of physical contact, small kisses, hand holding, his arm wrapped around your waist or shoulders.

Or when he’s feeling a bit possessive he likes grabbing your ass, in private and in public, its one of his favourite features of your body.

[wosoandstuff]

And with this GOLAZO from Marianyela Jiménez, Venezuelan national team qualifies for the U20 Women World Cup🫡🇻🇪

Marianyela is too good, at just 20 years old you can see how great of a player she is and will be for la vinotinto.

Capitana🍷

[hermywolf]

some of my favorite footballers

[ilongfor-the-arts]

can i ask for an enzo fernandez smut PLEASE

Revelations

Pairing: Enzo Fernández x fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, language, cheating, mentions of unhappy relationship, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving)

Summary: friends -> lovers. After Argentina’s glorious World Cup victory, you follow your best friend to his hotel room with the intention of getting a good night sleep before your flight the next morning. To your surprise, the conversation topic makes you question things about your life, specifically, your relationship.

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimer: please send a plot next time! I was in the process of writing this for fun which is why I’m ignoring my rule :D

~pretend they’re talking in Spanish I don’t know nearly enough Spanish to write this fic in Spanish :)~

They won. They did it. They fucking did it.

My heart was racing as I dashed onto the field. The audience was overjoyed. The atmosphere in the stadium was electric. Everyone (except the French) was giddy with joy. The roar of the audience set my nerves ablaze. I was buzzing.

I only had one task, to find Enzo. My gaze moved over the various faces, searching for a familiar one. Families hugged, and players consoled one another. Enzo had become completely lost in the sea of euphoric bodies.

“Y/N!”

I turned my head, praying my name wasn't a figment of my imagination. He stood tall, the aura of a champion accompanying his figure. I dashed over to him, swiftly closing the gap. My body warmed as he encircled me in a tight hug. With a huge grin on his face, he quickly drew back.

“We won Y/N! How cool is that?”

Enzo lightly shook my shoulders to emphasize his joy. His tone suggested that he was on the verge of happy tears.

“I never had a doubt.”

Enzo chuckled. His eyes were misty, with a few droplets cascading down his flushed cheeks.

¨You have much more faith than I do. When France caught up I thought we were done. I really did.¨

I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly. He smelled strongly of turf and sweat.

¨I knew you guys would win.¨

I wasn't completely truthful. To be honest, there were times during the game when I worried I'd have to spend the night comforting a distressed rookie. Despite my concerns, the team was able to come out on top.

¨You did great. You really did.¨

Enzo shrugged, placing his hands smugly on his hips.

“I appreciate the praise. It’s not easy carrying the team.”

He remarked sarcastically. I rolled my eyes amusingly. His demeanor had shifted from tears of joy to smug and cocky.

“Well, I’m thrilled to know that, at the very least, you are amazing at being humble.”

We laughed in sync. When the laughter faded away, Enzo glanced around. I cocked an eyebrow, perplexed as to who or what he was searching for.

“Where’s Nick?”

“Oh! Nick couldn’t make it.”

Enzo cocked an eyebrow.

“You said he was coming?”

“Well, I said maybe. He had… an unexpected work thing.”

Enzo scoffed.

“Right, work.”

I didn't want to venture a guess as to what he was implying with his little scoff and suggestive tone. Enzo approached me and slung an arm over my shoulder, a pearly white smile contrasting his tanned face.

“Well, good, that means I got you all to myself tonight.”

I gave him a light smack.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Fernandez. Remember, I’m someone’s fiancée.”

Would it ever feel normal to describe myself as a fiancée? Enzo pursed his lips.

“Right.”

He said, his voice encompassing a hint of sterness. The smile on his face turned tight. I could tell Enzo didn't like Nicholas. He never explicitly said it, but his body language and tone when speaking of him made his feelings on the subject painfully clear.

“Well, enough of him. You wanna meet a few of my teammates?”

I smiled, relieved that we had moved on from the sensitive subject.

“I’d love to.”

Enzo introduced me to one player after the other. The increasing number of names being crammed into my head confused me. Fortunately, the team had to leave for the trophy ceremony before the amount of letters became unbearable.

A few stray tears fell during the trophy ceremony. It was fantastic to see Enzo named the best young player. Of course, the final lift of the World Cup trophy was flawless. I remembered all the fun times Enzo and I had when he swore he'd be playing for the Argentine national team. Although it seemed like a distant ambition at the time, I had faith in him. It felt good to know that all of my beliefs had paid off.

“Where are you staying? I’ll get you an Uber or something.”

Enzo inquired, once we were on the street.

“Oh, uh, I don’t really know.”

I took out my phone and began scrolling through my email, searching for the reservation.

“Nick did all that for me. He found me someplace.”

I retrieved the reservation and showed it to Enzo. Enzo shook his head in disappointment.

“Hell no, that place sucks.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Really?”

I was completely taken aback. I assumed Nick had reserved a nice hotel for the night. Enzo confidently nodded.

“Oh yeah.”

I narrowed my eyes, unsure if he was telling the truth.

“Are you just saying that because you hate Nicholas or are you saying that because this place actually sucks?”

Enzo held up his hands in defense.

“I’m being serious! We were looking for places to stay and decided not to stay there because the staff was rude and the reviews were awful! The only reason it comes up first when you search is because it's a paid advertisement.”

I furrowed my brow.

“No way! I don’t believe you!”

When I hunted for reviews, I discovered that the vast majority of them were negative.

“Oh.”

I said meekly, my shoulders sagging as I realized I was going to spend the night in a dirty room with rude staff.

“Well, It’s not like I have another option.”

I stuffed my phone back into my jean pocket, my happy mood dampened. Enzo shook his head vigorously, his arms crossed over his well defined chest.

“Why don’t you stay with me?”

He inquired casually. My eyes widened.

“Oh! No, I couldn’t do that.”

Enzo shrugged nonchalantly.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

Enzo dismissed my concerns.

“You know you’re always welcome at my place, Y/N.”

He flashed me a bright white smile. I must admit, it was a tempting offer.

“You just won the World Cup, Enzo. You need your sleep and I-”

“Well unless you’re gonna keep me up all night I think I’ll be perfectly fine.”

I gnawed on my lower lip. Enzo could sense my hesitancy to accept his offer.

“Trust me Y/N, you won’t be a bother. I have more room than I need.”

Enzo was listening intently, waiting to hear me accept his offer with sincerity.

“Okay, fine.”

Enzo tried his best to hide the true extent of his joy.

“Amazing. I knew you’d say yes. I do have to leave tomorrow morning though, and get back to Argentina.”

I shrugged.

“That’s fine by me. I’m leaving tomorrow as well.”

The Uber ride was nearly silent. I hadn’t seen Enzo in forever. Now, the one night of my trip we had together, neither of us could speak. I wasn't bothered. I'm sure he was tired, as was I.

The streets of Qatar were beautiful. The sparkling city lights were dazzling to behold. Despite having had the pleasure of taking in the gorgeous scene prior to this night, I gawked in awe as we rolled between the tall buildings.

“It feels so weird. I’m seeing you for the first time in ages tonight and we’re already both leaving tomorrow morning.”

Enzo said. With a sigh, I slid onto the couch, kicking off my shoes in the process.

“I know. We need to be more consistent with our weekly calls.”

It was difficult to live in America when your best friend was always on the move, going wherever the world of fútbol called him. Even when we did have a conversation, it was rarely long enough to be meaningful. Our calls were usually limited to a quick chat at halftime or a few minutes to say hello before bed. As a result, it felt as if I hadn't truly heard from him in ages.

Enzo slid onto the couch, throwing his head back with an obnoxiously loud sigh of relief.

“Do you wanna turn on a movie or something?”

I asked.

“How about we just talk.”

I nodded.

“Sure. I’d like that.”

The air was still. The soft hum of traffic continued below. I drew my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my calves to secure my position.

“So, what was it like playing in the World Cup?”

Enzo scoffed.

“It was amazing, obviously. But, like, at the same time I’m really glad it’s over. But, at the same time I’d do it all again if I was asked to, y’know?”

My attention was drawn to his stunning side profile. Thankfully, Enzo’s eyes were closed. Damn. Did he always look this good?

I must still be buzzing from the adrenaline rush.

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

I drew my attention away from him, knowing that if I focused on him for too long, my mind would wander to places I didn't want it to.

“How’s life besides soccer? All good? Any new relationships I should know about?”

I queried, sarcastically. Enzo laughed. I cracked a smile. Even if it was quiet, it felt good to hear his laugh after such a long period of absence. The sound made my heart warm with nostalgia.

“No, nothing super interesting.”

His lack of a social life piqued my interest. I mean, I'm his closest friend. I know he's a wonderful person. So why hadn't anyone else noticed?

“Really? Why?”

Enzo shrugged.

“I’ve been really busy, I guess. There hasn’t been a lot of time to search for hot new singles in my area.”

I noticed a faint smile on his lips. He was pleased with himself for cracking that wonderful joke. Leaning my head against my knees, I chuckled.

“That’s fair.”

I swallowed uncomfortably, knowing that questions about my life would follow. And with questions came the inevitable discussion of a subject I knew Enzo detested. I cast a glance down at my sparkly engagement ring.

“I guess it’s my turn.”

Enzo said with a hint of cheekiness. I exhaled shakily.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

I returned my stare to Enzo. His eyes were open, and his gaze was soft and enticing.

“So, how’s your life?”

I smiled and gave him a meek nod.

“It’s good.”

Enzo's eyes fell to my hand, where he noticed me fondling my engagement ring. He hummed in a disapproving manner before returning his gaze to mine. His pupils were dark, and his stare possessed a hard undertone.

“How’s Nick?”

Oh shit. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.

“He’s fine. He’s great, even.”

Enzo shook his head and pursed his lips into a straight line. I couldn't help but scoff at his disapproval. To be honest, I was tired of his games. I needed to put a stop to his childish behavior.

“Enzo, I get it. You hate my fiancé. But can you please for the love of God at least pretend to be happy for me?”

Enzo leaned forward, and his sudden closeness made my heart skip a beat.

“No. I can’t.”

His voice was stern. His gaze had significantly hardened.

I rolled my eyes.

“Why?-”

“Why do I hate your fiancé?”

He gestured to himself.

“I think the better question is why don’t you hate your fiancé?”

My gaze narrowed.

“He’s a jerk! He treats you like shit! The only reason he bought you that ring was so you’d have a reason to talk about him while he’s out partying with his country club friends.”

I shook my head. Enzo exhaled sharply through his nose.

“You know I’m right Y/N. I don’t think you love him-”

“He's a safe choice!-”

“Why are you settling for him? When have you ever cared about being safe? You were always the one telling me I could do anything I wanted if I tried. You deserve so much better than that asshole!”

I clenched my teeth. I felt compelled to spit fire. I wanted to tell Enzo that he was mistaken and that I was madly in love with my fiancé. But, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't bring myself to lie. So, in an effort to be argumentative, I spoke without thinking.

“Who do I deserve then? Huh? You and only you?”

Enzo's face fell into a neutral expression. I was perplexed for a moment. What made him suddenly stoic?

Then it hit me. My stomach dropped to the floor.

“Oh.”

I averted my gaze from him and concentrated on the plain wall ahead. I breathed evenly, working to process the confession I'd just heard.

“I wasn’t planning on telling you like this Y/N.”

“How long?”

“Um-like, a long time.”

“Is that the reason why you wanted me in your hotel room tonight?”

Enzo was deafeningly silent. The traffic continued to move, and the city continued to live around us. Despite being trapped in the middle of a life-changing experience, the world did not come to a halt.

“Uh-Well…”

His voice trailed off into the heavy night air.

“Yes.”

I sighed.

Although the possibility of him luring me into his room solely for the possibility of sex should be upsetting, I couldn’t grow angry.

“I really want to be mad. I really do. But… I can’t.”

I knew him better than anyone. I knew exactly where his heart was at this precise moment. I also knew exactly where my own heart was, and I knew they were both in the same place. I swiveled my head to face him, catching his eager gaze before lowering my eyes to my engagement ring.

The sight of it made me sick.

I slid it off my finger in one fluid motion and slammed it down onto the glass coffee table in a rather dramatic fashion.

Then I twisted my body around to face Enzo. His posture was flawless. He was tense, anticipating my next move. My gaze was drawn to his plush lips before returning to meet his anxious eyes.

I cut to the chase. I reached forward, clenching my fist around his collar and pulling him into me. He received the message and pressed his surprisingly soft lips against mine. On his hot skin, the scent of turf and sweat lingered.

I was expecting this moment to be tense or astounding, but it just felt… right. It was peaceful and serene. This was meant to happen, in this place, at this time, with this person.

After a brief moment of hesitation, Enzo allowed his hands to crawl towards my waist. His body melted into the kiss, his mouth moving in impeccable unison with mine.

My opposite hand brushed through the short hairs on the nape of his neck. Enzo groaned, and the vibrations echoed down my throat.

“Enzo.”

I whispered, already breathless with love.

“Yes?”

He inquired, hurriedly reconnecting the kiss despite knowing I had more to say.

I drew back, softly smiling as I noticed the prominent blush on his face. His lips were swollen from the passionate kiss, and his pupils were blown with lust.

“Fuck me like you mean it.”

I said, demanding he follow my orders.

“Yes ma’am.”

He remarked lightheartedly. As he began kissing me without hesitation, I could feel the prominent smirk on his face. Enzo’s tongue soon slipped between my lips. My eyes fluttered shut, and I allowed my mouth to move in response to his.

Enzo hoisted me atop his lap with ease. I groaned as his growing bulge brushed against my hot core. My nails raked along his scalp, eliciting a low groan from deep within his throat.

“Oh Jesus baby.”

Enzo mumbled erotically, breaking the kiss to trail his wet mouth down my jugular.

“You have no clue how much I’ve thought about this.”

He placed fiery hot kisses along my cool skin. I sighed softly, muscles relaxing as he located my sweet spot. My lower abdomen was already buzzing with a gentle hum of pleasure.

“God, I’ve wanted you for so long.”

Enzo dipped his hands under the hem of my shirt, teasing the skin above my waistband with his thumbs. Despite his warm hands, the featherlight touches caused goosebumps to appear on my skin.

“I get so hot when I think about fucking you. You have no idea.”

The mere image of Enzo with his hand far past his waistband made my cunt throb with desire. I pictured him softly groaning my name while thrusting his hips into his calloused palm. He would try not to cum too quickly, but the image of me wrapped around his cock would be far too sweet to deny.

“My hand can only do so much.”

Shit. My suspicions were confirmed.

“Take me to the bedroom, Enzo.”

I begged, my tone breathless with lust. Enzo pulled back, his calloused hands trailing downwards to grasp my soft thighs. A faint smirk was visible on his swollen lips.

“Yes ma’am.”

He stood, lifting me effortlessly. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his waist. Our faces were in close proximity due to my firm grip on his body. I reconnected our fiery kiss, confident that Enzo could decipher his way to the bedroom completely blind.

Fortunately, I was correct. I was so engrossed in the sensation of his tongue flowing in perfect unison with mine that I didn't perceive we were in the bedroom until my back collided with the mattress.

My body weight did not cause the springs to groan. They didn't want to disrupt our passionate connection. Enzo hovered above me, his kisses intensifying now that he had me where he wanted me. I, like him, quickly became breathless. The collective gasps as we struggled to refill our spent lungs were like music to my ears.

My hands dipped beneath the hem of his shirt. Enzo’s abdomen rippled under my soft fingertips. I moved upwards, caressing every inch of his perfectly sculpted chest before breaking the kiss momentarily to throw the jersey over his head. I threw it to the floor, out of sight, out of mind.

Enzo hastily followed suit. He grasped the hem of my shirt and threw it to the ground, swiftly reigniting the spark between our mouths. He was clearly not as patient as I was. I arched my back as a silent indication to remove my bra. The message was delivered. Enzo reached behind me and unclipped my bra in a singular fluid motion.

I shrugged off the straps and discarded the piece of fabric. Enzo pulled back, his hungry eyes drinking in my bare torso. I quickly grew hot under his gaze. My face flushed and my core grew wet.

“So pretty.”

Enzo muttered, his tongue trailing along his lower lip. He was studying every inch of my chest, carving every minute detail into his brain so he could possess a mental image of me laid out for him.

He pressed his wet mouth to the valley of my breasts, beginning his gradual descent to the area which I desired him most.

“You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

My stomach fluttered. Enzo placed hot, open mouthed kisses along my skin. The saliva he left in his wake was hit by a cool draft, sending chills down my spine.

“I can’t believe that asshole got to see this before I did.”

The erotic tone had returned. His hands found my breasts, and began to knead the soft flesh. I groaned in pleasure, my eyes fluttering shut.

Enzo’s knee bumped my clothed core. I convulsed, involuntarily rolling my hips along his thigh, desperate for friction.

He chuckled against my breastbone.

“Jesus baby, you’re so worked up and I’ve barely touched you. I can’t wait to see what you do when I fuck you.”

In response, all I could manage was a groan. I tangled my fingers in his hair, my eyes opening to perceive his movements along my stomach. While his lips trailed downwards, Enzo continued to knead my breasts. His movements came to a sudden halt when he reached the waistband of my jeans.

I could feel the uncomfortable pool between my thighs. I was growing antsy, desperate for him to make me cum. Fortunately, it appeared Enzo was growing impatient as well. He removed his hands from my chest, hastily unbuttoning my jeans and tugging them down my legs. I kicked them to the floor, shortening the process. My panties soon found the floor along with the rest of my clothing.

Enzo nestled between my spread thighs, his large hands caressing the soft flesh. I grew impatient as he refused to give me what I truly desired. Instead, he resorted to placing tender kisses along my inner thighs, being cautious to keep his distance from my aching cunt. Typically I appreciate sensuality, but after a long hiatus from erotic pleasure, I was sexually frustrated.

I tugged on his roots, urging him to move towards my core. Enzo smirked against my thigh.

“Jesus baby, you’re impatient. How often does he touch you?”

He glanced at me through his lashes. I grit my teeth, not wanting to provide him with an answer. Enzo scoffed.

“That’s pitiful. If you were mine I’d touch you all the goddamn time.”

His movements looked promising. He was now slowly inching towards my core, presumably with no intent of stopping.

“You’d be so full of my cock.”

My entire lower half was throbbing with desire. The anticipation was coursing through my body in waves. God, how I wished he’d just hurry up and eat me out.

“I’d fuck you so good every single day. God you wouldn’t be able to go two minutes without thinking of me inside you.”

That sure as hell sounded like a good life. Unfortunately, it appeared that he wanted to further prolong my suffering.

“Enzo,” I begged, “please, I’m aching.”

“Sorry baby, that was rude of me.”

I was about to roll my eyes, but a sudden wave of pleasure halted my movements. Enzo’s warm mouth enveloped my clit. My back arched off the bed. I tightened my grip in his hair, tugging a few loose strands from the roots.

“You’re so wet for me baby.”

He murmured, the vibrations reverberating throughout my cunt. I moaned loudly, crushing his head between my thighs. Enzo’s movements didn’t falter. He was precise and intense. Each flick of my clit was carefully placed and timed in order to give me the most intense pleasure possible.

I was soon reduced to a moaning mess. I was panting, my head thrown back and my jaw on the floor. I couldn’t prevent the whimpers and groans that passed over my plush lips.

“Your moans are so pretty.”

Enzo rolled his hips against the mattress, searching for friction to somewhat dampen the ache pumping through his painfully hard erection.

“Keep moaning, just like that, let the whole world know how good I make you feel.”

Two fingers prodded at my entrance. Moments later, when his long digits pushed into me, I swore I saw stars. He began a steady pace with his fingers, fondling my g spot with every thrust.

I bit back the impending orgasm, trying to ignore the tightness in my lower abdomen. I wanted to preserve this glorious feeling. To my surprise, Enzo slowed down. I groaned from the lack of stimulation.

“Keep moaning baby. I wanna hear how good I make you feel.”

I gulped, a large lump forming in my throat.

“I’m not gonna last much longer.”

Only when I spoke did I realize how pitiful and breathless I sounded.

“I don’t care.”

Enzo resumed his pace, this time, with tenfold the intensity as before. I obeyed his command, and didn’t hold back. Every sound that crept up my throat was released into the still night air.

I was close, so painfully close. The wet sound of his fingers fucking me along with the slurping was truly erotic. The coil was pulled tight, and would release with the tiniest of pushes.

Enzo could tell I was teetering on the verge of an orgasm.

“Cum all over my fingers pretty girl.”

I came undone. My entire body convulsed. The walls of my cunt clenched around Enzo’s thick fingers. I was lifted into a world of pure euphoria. If it wasn’t for the soft pumping of Enzo’s fingers, I would’ve sworn I went straight to heaven.

I loosened my death grip on his roots, stretching my cramped fingers as Enzo relished in the taste of my juices.

“You taste so good.”

He said softly.

Jesus. I wasn’t even done with my first orgasm and I was already growing impatient for the next one.

Enzo climbed over me once he was satisfied, nestling between my shaky legs. His lips were wet, yet I wasted no time in reconnecting our hungry mouths. I could taste myself on his tongue.

I dragged my open palms down his chest, gathering sweat beads as I went. I eventually reached his waistband. Fortunately, the band was stretchy, allowing me to easily dip my hand into his shorts and cup his painfully hard erection.

Enzo groaned, resisting the urge to buck his hips into my warm hand.

“Hurry up and take those off baby.”

I hooked my finger into the waistbands of both his boxers and shorts. Then I began pulling them down his thighs. I pushed them down as far as I could, and when I couldn't reach, Enzo took charge. He stripped the remainder of his clothing, leaving him bare.

Enzo pressed his body against mine, leaving little room to breathe comfortably. I made no complaint. I was already breathless from his dizzying kiss, and the comforting sensation of his body weight resting atop me made my stomach flutter. He was incredibly warm, and the prominent heat blossoming from his erection contributed to the steady thrum of pleasure building within my stomach.

Enzo rocked his pelvis forward, the swollen tip of his cock prodding at my entrance. I whimpered against his mouth, the messy kiss swallowing my noises.

“Enzo-“

“I know baby, I’ll fuck you.”

He reached between our bodies, lining his cock up with my entrance. Enzo rolled his pelvis forward, burying himself deep within me. The wetness of my cunt made it easy for him to stretch my walls to the absolute brim. I broke the kiss, throwing my head back and squeezing my eyes shut as he bottomed out.

“Jesus Enzo, you’re really fucking big.”

I shuddered. Enzo gave me a moment to adjust, placing hot kisses to my neck as he waited for my body to relax. After a sufficient period of time, Enzo began rolling his hips, beginning a steady rhythm.

“Good girl, you’re taking my cock so well.”

I whimpered, the dull pain of his thick length slowly transforming into pleasure. Enzo nestled his face into the crook of my neck, his hot breath cascading across my skin.

“Oh fuck baby, you feel so good. So nice and tight.”

His erotic tone was punctuated by deep breaths. The sensation of my wet cunt wrapped around his thick cock was far too wonderful to deny.

“Faster, please.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Enzo began to increase his pace, the tip of his cock brushing against my cervix. I shuddered as I dug my nails into his strong back, breaking the skin. Enzo let out a guttural groan.

“Sorry.”

I mumbled.

“Don’t be, I like it.”

Enzo grasped my thigh and hooked a leg around his waist. The new position provided the perfect angle for his cock to slam into my g spot with each thrust. His lower abdomen brushed against my clit and allowed for the perfect amount of delicious stimulation to pair with the rigorous snap of his pelvis.

“Who can make you feel this good?”

He murmured. I stared blankly at the plain ceiling, my mind trapped in a foggy daze. My muscles completely relaxed, my body succumbing to the effects of the pleasure.

“You.”

“What was that?”

He pulled back, igniting a moment of intense eye contact as he fucked me into the matress. I cupped his cheek, pulling his face forward to reestablish contact between our lips. It was a heated mess of tongue and clashing teeth.

“You, only you.”

I whispered against his lips, mustering all of the remaining self-control I had to make my voice as clear as possible.

The coil within my lower abdomen was pulling tight. I could feel the delicious release seeping into the corners of my brain.

“Enzo, I’m gonna cum.”

Enzo drew back, our noses brushing against each other as he maintained the rigorous pace of his hips.

“Look at me, I wanna see your face as you cum all over my cock.”

Enzo released my thigh and brought his hand upwards to gently cup my face. The gentle touch of his calloused fingertips provided yet another area of stimulation. I kept my face still and my eyes open, allowing any expression to waft over my features.

“Shit! Enzo!”

I encircled his neck with my arms, holding him impossibly closer as the coil within my snapped. I came undone, my walls clenching around his cock as I was immersed into a pool of pure euphoria. I moaned pornographically, unable to resist the temptation to squeeze my eyes shut. Enzo didn’t seem to mind. His cock twitched within me as I came, indicating that he was also close to reaching his orgasm.

Jesus, I feel bad for the other guests who came to this hotel hoping for a quiet night full of restful sleep. Our combined moans were enough to rock the walls.

“Shit Y/N.”

Enzo muttered, his head collapsing into the crook of my neck as he coated my walls with his hot cum. He mumbled my name like a prayer while he continued to roll his hips. His soft cock gradually brought me down from the freight train of an orgasm I just experienced.

Enzo came to a complete stop after we had both caught our breath. He collapsed atop me, and I ran my fingers through his sweaty hair. I cocked my head to the side, taking in the glimmer of the city lights through the enormous window.

“What now?”

He inquired meekly, his face nestled comfortably against my neck. I dragged my hand down his back, tenderly rubbing his sweaty skin. Only after the filter of pleasure was removed did I notice he still smelled like an intense fútbol match. And although I knew his question hinted at something more serious. I responded with what should happen next at that precise moment as opposed to worrying about the inevitable problems that I would be forced to address once I touched down in America.

“I think you need a shower now.”

I said, a smile on my face. Enzo chuckled.

“Wanna join me?”

[withlove-esme]

Born to read a thousand books a year, forced to live in a country where it's impossible to buy more than 2 per month

[franciskirkland]

England, since it's his birthday

only for 40 more minutes down under!! but gladly :^)

sorry if i forgot anything!!! thank u for the ask and pls feel free to reblog the game! <3

[rottenappleinthebox]

I- Listen, don't judge me, ok?

I just wanted to draw fem (or nyo) Argentina and somehow it ended up like this lol. May 25 was a national holiday so I wanted to draw something, there was also a meme I saw during pride month last year that said #ArgentinianPride and since pride month is nearing I thought I could combine both! (Yeah, I hc Argentina as bi lol)

I also kinda feel like I made her too much like Barbie xD Oh, well, add that too to the mix lol

References:

Oh, I got the first background from this post

[hetagrammy]

unpopular opinion but i feel like brazil should be a woman. I just feel there’d be potential, like a south american girlboss who pretty much ruled over the continent during the later half of the 19-th century, maybe add a girl Argentina too and let them have a sapphic rivalry

I don't know as much about Brazilian history, but I am always for more girls!! You had me at South American girlboss with a sapphic rivalry. I coincidentally know slightly more about Argentina and imagine Arg as a woman! I think it also would really impact the relationship with Portugal before independence (in an interesting way). Being the little bitch he is, he'd initially be like "Damn I have to deal with a little girl instead?? Ok I guess :/" and then she turns out to be super capable because she's a girlboss in the making

[moonsfavoritedaughter]

so yeah, the new president of argentina is mega rightist, is against human rights, against abortion, doesnt believe in climate change, and hes gonna dolarize the economy which is... hell, for the 99.9% of argentina which are normal citizens and the other 0.1% is the president and its coworkers which arent gonna feel a thing, so yeah, were screwed

btw: sorry for the first hand in the second panel looking like it has been splattered with a hammer, idk how to draw lol

[4unnyr0se]

❥ moth to a flame | toru oikawa

warnings: timeskip! argentina oikawa, fem! reader, ushijimas ex! reader, alcohol consumption, recording, fingering, making out, HEAVY flirtiny/dirty talk, hickeys, rough sex, multiple orgasms, ushijima hate, exhibitionism, degradation, oikawa is a bitch ass motherfucker

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 5.1k

a/n: based off of this post right here, i hope i did it justice. also sorry to all the ushijima girlies out there

❥ song: moth to a flame - the weekend

Oikawa really fucking hated Ushjima. He hated how good he was. He hated how he could easily get his ass handed to him on a silver fucking platter. Not that he would ever admit that, of course. The Great King had too much pride ever actually to acknowledge that someone was better than him at volleyball. He knew that the ace was secretly talking behind his back, telling everybody that it was such a shame that Oikawa never went to Shirtatorizawa. Fucking dick, what the hell did he know? He had a dumb face. Ushijima was only useful for hitting balls into the opposing team's court. It’s no wonder he got drafted onto the Alders, no universities would accept him. Now, did Oikawa actually have any proof that Ushijima was dumb? Well, not exactly. But he didn’t need proof, Oikawa knew that already. He fucking hated Wakatoshi Ushijima and anyone that associated with him, including the ace’s pretty little girlfriend.

You were too pretty to be Ushijima’s girlfriend, way too pretty. There was no way someone like you would ever willingly be seen with him, right? He was probably blackmailing you into going out with him and posing for Volleyball Monthly; that’s how Oikawa found out about your little relationship. “Shiratorizawa’s Power Couple” the magazine title proudly boasted, using a photo of you standing a little too close to Ushijima for Oikawa’s liking. The only reason you were even featured was because you were the captain of Shiratorizawa’s cheer squad. Probably the only fucking good thing to come out of that school was you. You were wasted on Ushijima, no matter how well he could treat you. Oikawa was furious; Ushijima had a cute girlfriend, but he didn’t. It didn’t make any sense, right? Oikawa could have any girl he wanted, yet he chose you, someone he couldn’t have. What a mind-fuck that was. 

Ushijima kept dating you after high school, much to Oikawa’s annoyance. Rumors were circulating that you would marry and give birth to the next great generation of volleyball, but Oikawa stopped caring at that point. He started playing for Argentina and decided (begrudgingly) that it was for the best that he stopped obsessing over that one Shiratorizawa cheerleader. That perfect, pretty, popular, and so fucking sexy cheerleader. Oikawa was content with his new life in Argentina, especially knowing he would never have to see you or Ushijima again. Boy, was he wrong. 

The beach was sunny that day, and it was full of people doing whatever they wanted: making out, poorly playing volleyball, making sandcastles, whatever they wanted. Oikawa considered joining in on an amateur volleyball match, but he shrugged it off. They would probably recognize him, and while he enjoyed his fame, he preferred his female fans to his male ones. He instead opted to do what he did best: lie there and look pretty. His muscles rippled in the bronzing sunlight as he observed how the waves of the ocean danced, how the children laughed, and how the seagulls terrorized innocent picnic-havers. It was the best thing ever…until he got bored and wanted a drink. Something light, something with lime and coconut. He didn’t care what as long as it had those two things. 

The bar was unusually empty, which was great. His fame got him a lot of special treatment, but cutting the line at the beach bar was certainly different from them. He gave the bartender his order and gave him the pesos, turning his back to the employee as his drink got mixed. Oikawa zoned out for the better part of it, not thinking of much until he was snapped out of his thoughts by a feminine voice. 

“Virgin margarita, please,” you spoke so sweetly like honey was falling from your lips. Oikawa snapped his head in your direction, and his eyes nearly fell out of their sockets. You, Wakatoshi Ushijima’s girlfriend, were standing a few feet away from him, in the cutest little black bikini he had ever seen. He choked on his saliva, pretending to brush it off as a cough. Fuck, did you notice him? There was no way you didn’t. Whatever, there’s no turning back now. Oikawa plastered his signature smirk onto his handsome features, staring at you through his designer sunglasses.

“Well, if it isn’t Ushijima’s illustrious girlfriend. What brings you to Argentina? Let me guess, he sent you to sign me to the Alders?” his voice was smug, annoyingly smug. 

You groaned and took off your sunglasses, nestling them atop your head. “Okay, you’re so wrong on so many levels,” you placed your hands on your hips, raising an eyebrow. “First of all, I’m not his girlfriend anymore. I broke up with Wakatoshi after he got drafted to the Alders, which probably answers your second question.” the ghost of a smirk dusted your lips. 

“Oh,” Oikawa was momentarily silenced. “But you’re still on a first-name basis?”

“And is that any of your business?”

“Wow, since when was Shiratorizawa’s princess so fucking bitchy? I thought you were Snow White or something,” he scoffed, stepping towards you with his arms crossed. 

“And you’re just as pretentious as people say you are,” you snickered. “For your information, Oikawa, I can act however I want. I broke up with his sorry ass, and I’m not telling you why. God, I can’t believe we’re at the same beach.”

Shit, he liked how you were talking to him. No one had put him down like that long ago, not since Iwaizumi. It was nice…did he like it when girls were mean to him instead of worshipping the ground he walked on?

“Hey, don’t get pissy with me, princess. It’s not my fault you just happen to go to the beach near where I live,” Oikawa scoffed. “What are you even doing in Argentina anyway? What, did university not work out for you back in Miyagi.”

You rolled your eyes. “For your information, asshole, I got into every university I applied to. I just…” you signed, rubbing your temple. “I just needed some time away from that place. Everything reminds me of Wakatoshi. It was just better for me to get away for a while.”

The bartender coughed awkwardly, holding your drinks. You both took them as the employee turned back around, visibly uncomfortable. Oikawa took a sip of the drink, nodding in approval. “So, I take it finding me on this beach wasn’t the most relaxing thing?”

“I thought you were going to be nice to me, but I guess I was wrong since you thought I was still with Wakatoshi,” you sipped your drink, the cool liquid drooling down your chin and onto your breasts. “But…I guess I can forgive you. After all, neither of us went to nationals since Karasuno got number nine and ten, right?” 

Oikawa chuckled. “Yeah, you’re right. Fucking Tobio.”

“You know he’s on the Alders as well, right?”

“What? Oh, fucking of course he is,” Oikawa scoffed, placing his drink down at the bar. He looked at your form again, drinking in each curve that your bikini did such a poor job of hiding. Did you wear that thing on purpose to find someone here to fuck? Maybe Ushijima never fucked you right. Maybe he never made you cum. Maybe that’s why you dumped his sorry ass because he was a terrible lover. Oh, wouldn’t that just be a fucking treat?

“So,” Oikawa stared at the ground. “Do you wanna head back to my apartment? It’s within walking distance. Plus, I have drinks that aren’t stupidly overpriced,” he shot the bartender a dirty look. “No offense.”

You thought for a moment, your perfectly manicured finger tapping on your bottom lip. “Sure, that could be fun. Besides,” you leaned forward, exposing your cleavage to the setter. “If Wakatoshi heard about that, he would be so fucking pissed. So why not, hm?”

Holy shit. You were perfect. “Wow,” Oikawa was speechless, which was a rare fucking treat. “And here I thought you were all sweet and innocent,” he casually snaked his arm around your waist, shamelessly feeling your supple skin. “I guess I was wrong.”

“You’re lucky we hate the same person, or else I would have broken your arm off by now,” you snicker, allowing his hand to feel up and down your waist. “Now, where’s your apartment? Let me guess,” you pointed to an expensive-looking building. “Penthouse suite on the top floor right over there?”

“How the hell did you know that?” he raised an eyebrow in suspicion. 

You scoffed, walking in tune with Oikawa. “I mean, it’s painfully obvious. That’s the only apartment complex within comfortable walking distance, and knowing your ego, you probably chose the apartment on the top floor because you think you’re entitled to it, somehow,” you smirked, staring into his milky brown eyes. “Well? How right am I?’

Oikawa frowned, pouting like a baby. “...pretty right…” he mumbled.

“What? I didn’t catch that?” you pretended to cup your ear.

“I said you’re right. Jeez, since when were you this cocky?” he grumbled, pulling you closer to his muscular form. He was ripped, more ripped than he was in the sports magazines from high school. His chest was chiseled, and his shoulders were broad as if he had been sculpted by the gods themselves. You would never admit this to him (not sober, at least), but Oikawa was hot as fuck, even though he was a major brat. 

“I’ve always been this cocky, just not in public,” you looked up at the door of the penthouse apartment complex, the doorknobs brandishing an expensive golden sheen. “Wow, these sure are different than the Miyagi apartments,” you mumbled, rubbing on your arm. Oddly enough, you felt out of place, like you didn’t fit the right tax bracket to be allowed here.

“Well, cutie, I am a professional athlete. I make more than the entire staff does combined,” he bragged, waving to the desk attendant, who had the most annoyed look on her face. Maybe she knew what a dick Oikawa was as well. 

You bit down on your bottom lip, tapping your sandalled shoe against the cool tiling of the lobby. Did he just call you a cutie? You shouldn’t take it personally. He probably did that with every other girl he found attractive. Wait, does that mean he found you attractive? Oh god, did you actually like being flirted with by Toru Oikawa? You slapped your hands over your cheeks, attempting to hide the ever-blooming red blush.

“Are you okay? You look red,” he thought for a second, his lips twisting into a smirk. “Is Shiratorizawa’s Princess blushing?” he leaned forward, smirking as the elevator doors closed. His large and calloused hands pressed against either side of your head, trapping you between the wall and his shirtless frame.

“Shut up!” you slapped him across his cheek, leaving a stinging imprint on his flawless skin. He gasped, massaging his cheek. “You’re a pervert, you know that?”

“I haven’t even said anything perverted yet! No one hits me, no one!” he wined, uncaging you from the elevator wall. “You’re feisty,” he mumbled under his breath, something you couldn’t hear.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the elevator door dinged. You both left the elevator and walked to his apartment in silence, your hands massaging your arms as the cold air of the upper floor set in. Rich people have excellent air conditioning. 

“This is it,” Oikawa jiggled his key into the lock, pulling open the mahogany door. “Ladies first,” he winked, making you scoff as you entered the vast apartment. 

“Holy-” your words died on your lips as you took in Oikawa’s living space. How perfect and elegant it was. It was massive, boasting a designer kitchen with beautiful granite countertops and three ovens. Who the hell needs three ovens? “This place is huge! Damn, I forgot how much they pay professional athletes!” 

Oikawa chuckled at your childlike marveling, or perhaps it was envy? Either way, he could get used to you gawking over his wealth. “I know, I know. I’m fucking fantastic,” he strode over to the bar cart, mixing some peach juice and vodka. “I know this isn’t the most manly drink, but beer is so gross. Don’t you agree?” he handed you a glass, not even trying to hide the fact that he was staring at your tits.

“Oh, totally. Beer is gross,” you took a sip of the drink, smiling at the peach juice hit your tongue. “Oh damn, this is good. Where did you get this?”

“I’m not telling. You could buy out my entire supply!” Oikawa laughed, taking another sip of his beverage. “So,” he leaned against his kitchen counter, staring into your eyes with his half-lidded ones. “What will it take for me to learn why you dumped Ushijima, hm?” his voice was a purr, like a siren trying to lure you into the sea.

You rolled your eyes and sat down on the couch, admiring the tasteful throw pillows he had. “Well, if it gets you to shut up, I’ll tell you,” you patted the seat right next to your own. “You’re lucky I have vodka in me, or else I’d be really bitchy right about now.”

“Who’s saying you aren’t being bitchy?”

You shot him a glare. “Do you wanna know my breakup story or not?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolled his eyes and sat next to you, purposefully spreading his muscular thighs. Fuck, he was sexy as hell. “Well? Let’s hear the story, cutie.”

“Okay,” you took a deep breath, locking your eyes on your pedicured feet. “We started dating because one of his teammates said we would look good together. Tendou, I think his name was. He asked me out, but it wasn’t very romantic. He was stoic, unfeeling. I guess he’s always been like that,” you paused, licking your bottom lip. “He was a good boyfriend for the most part, I guess. He was kind, and he supported me in anything I did. It’s just…volleyball was his top priority, not me. And don’t get me wrong, I loved cheerleading. Wakatoshi prioritized sports over his relationship, so I dumped him once he was signed to the Alders.” you looked up at Oikawa, a soft smile gracing your lips. “I’m happy I dumped his sorry ass.”

“Wow,” Oikawa mumbled, setting his drink on the coffee table. “I’m sorry he treated you like that. I always knew he was a piece of shit, and now I have the proof,” he smacked his lips together, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “C’mere, I gotta ask you something else.”

“Do we have to be this close for you to ask me a question?” you raised an eyebrow, secretly enjoying the intimacy.

“Yes,” Oikawa immediately responded. “Answer me this,” his voice dropped to a deep octave, goosebumps covering your arms. “Did he ever make you cum, or did you have to fake it every time?”

Your breath hitched in your throat, a blush dusting your cheeks. “Well, technically, no, he didn’t make me cum,” you whispered, knowing damn well that Oikawa had a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“I fucking knew it,” he pulled you impossibly closer, pulling your lip down with his thumb. “Poor little girl, hm? You’re big, strong boyfriend never gave you an orgasm. Did he even know where the clit is?”

You shook your head. “No, I had to show it to him, and he still has never found it.”

“Oh, that’s pathetic. And adorable. To think,” his lips trailed upwards to the cartilage of your ear, nibbling on it. “That a pretty thing like yourself had a boyfriend that wouldn’t give her what she wanted…that’s just tragic, don’t you think so?”

You looked at him, your eyes ablaze. “I guess so. What, did you wanna do something about that?” your hands slid up and down his thigh, dangerously close to his hardening cock. 

“I think I will,” without any warning, he scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder, slapping you on the ass. You squeaked and were thrown onto his bed, the crisp cotton sheets welcoming your burning skin. Oikawa crawled on top of you, pinning your wrists above your head. “I have an idea, something that will piss Ushijima off. That’s what we both want, isn’t it?” he planted a daring kiss on your neck, the aroma of your tropical perfume filling his nostrils. “I know you wanna see him angry, don’t you, cutie?”

Fuck, his words landed right at your core. You squeezed your legs shut, tilting your head to the side so he could plant more of his blazing kisses on your delicate skin. “Mhm, I wanna see him get so mad he does something he’ll regret,” you purr, gasping as Oikawa sank his canines into you. A soft moan fell from your lips, only encouraging him to leave more delicious bruises. He stopped his ministrations, licking his way up to your ear. “I wanna film me fucking your brains out,” his voice was a low rumble, practically dripping with want. “I wanna send him pictures of you covered in my fucking cum with your tits covered in hickeys. That’ll show him, right?” he shamelessly palmed your breast, wanting to tear that slutty bikini off your perfect body.

“Fuck, Oikawa,” you moaned, breaking free from his grasp. “If you’re gonna do that,” you sat on the bed. “We have to be equals in this, or he’ll think you’re fucking me without consent.”

“What? So, no bondage or anything?” he pouted. “Well, I guess that’s fair,” his milky eyes darted to one of his dresser drawers. “I…I have a professional camera in there, as well as a tripod. Don’t fucking ask why I have those, okay? If we’re gonna film a little something for your ex-boyfriend,” he playfully nipped at your ear. “We’re gonna do it right.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you chuckled, swatting his hands away as he fumbled with the string of your bikini top. “Nope, you have to undress me on camera. That’ll really piss him off.”

Oikawa smirked, setting up the tripod quickly. How many times did he use that thing? “You sure know him well, don’t you, cutie?” he hit the record button, crawling above you again. The camera was positioned to have the side-view of whatever you two decided to participate in. “Don’t worry, I’ll get the money shot with my phone,” he snickered, hovering his lips above yours. “Now, cutie, do you wanna make a movie with me?”

“Fuck yes,” and his lips were upon yours, ravaging them like he had drank a love potion. They moved in sync with your own, relishing in the mango-flavored chapstick you wore. He kissed you like he owned you from the second he saw you in that slutty bikini. The way his teeth clashed against yours was animalistic in his fight to be dominant, not even asking for entry before shoving his tongue inside your mouth. Your wet muscles danced, pulling moan after moan out of your lungs before he pulled away abruptly, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. 

“Gotta fucking catch my breath,” he chuckled. “You kiss like a fucking whore.”

“I bite like one, too,” you smirked, rolling over to straddle Oikawa’s waist. He gasped in confusion before quickly being silenced, the sensation of you harshly sucking on his muscular neck making him whimper. You chuckled, grinding yourself onto his pelvis, your most intimate parts being covered by thin pieces of fabric.

“Fuck, cutie,” Oikawa’s hands squeezed your hips, rolling the fat between his taped fingers. He bucked his hips upwards, making you yelp. “Take off that fucking top now,” he growled, fisting the sheets beneath him impatiently.

You giggled and reached behind your back, undoing the bikini knot teasingly slow. Oikawa knew what you were doing. He’d seen it a million times by now. Usually, he wouldn’t mind. It was just another beach slut taking her time, trying to draw out their experience with the great Toru Oikawa. But this time was different. He didn’t want to wait. He wanted you creaming on his cock the way Ushijima never made you. Besides, there would be a second time. And a third, and a fourth.

His hand cracked against your ass. “Don’t fucking tease me, cutie,” his voice rasped, his hands hungrily grasping onto your tits. “Fucking take this off, or I’ll rip it off of you. Show me those tits, don’t get all shy on me now.”

You squeak, your clit pulsating at the contact. “Fine, whatever you want, baby,” you threw your bikini top across the room, letting your breasts be exposed to the cool air of his bedroom. Oikawa groaned, rolling over so he was on top once more. His mouth found your breast, sucking at the pillowy flesh while his hands rolled over your pert nipple, alternating between each breast. He sucked on your areloas, making sure not to be gentle. He only got more confident with each slutty moan he ripped from your lips, relishing in the incredibly high ones he received when he bit down on your nipple. Your chest was littered with tiny purple circles and covered in his saliva, the desire in your belly practically bubbling over. His cock was painfully hard, pressing against your inner thigh. You swore you could hear it throbbing, begging to fuck your cunt. 

“Oikawa!” you whimpered, grabbing his ashy brown hair and forcefully pulling him away from your chest. “I-I think you marked me enough, right? C’mon,” your hand guided his into your bikini bottom, sighing as his thumb finally found your desperate clit. “I’m so wet down here for you, Oikawa. Don’t you wanna take care of me?”

Your voice was high-pitched like the girls in porn, and Oikawa fucking loved it. You were both putting on a show in shorts. A show to piss off a man that you both despised, but it was a show nonetheless. It's a sexy, depraved show.

“You moan like a fucking slut,” he pushed your bikini to the side, exposing your dripping pussy. Without a second thought, he shoved his middle and ring finger deep inside your heat, curling them slightly. You cried out, arching your back further into the mattress as his other hand still had a firm hold on your breast.

“Oh, you like that, cutie? You like getting finger-fucked by your ex-boyfriend's enemy?” he growled, fucking his fingers in and out of your weeping pussy at a relentless pace. “I wonder what they would say if they saw you like this, a slutty little mess under me. You’re such a whore for my fingers, aren’t you?” his thumb dragged over your clit, his fingers and his arm being so precise in their ministrations. Your pussy squeezed around his digits, feeling your first orgasm in such a long-time approach.

“P-please, Oikawa! Fucking make me cum!” you sobbed, your hands clenching onto the white sheets. You saw stars as your orgasm crashed over you, rolling your head to the side to stare directly into the camera. With your blown-out eyes and bruised lips, you looked fucking ethereal.

“Good fucking girl,” Oikawa popped his fingers in his mouth, tasting your slick. You tasted incredible, unlike anything he had ever tasted before. “Open up,” he ran his finger over your soaked core, gathering up more of your essence to forcefully shove inside your mouth. “Suck,” he commanded, and you did. Your tongue ran over his fingers while you made direct eye contact with him, making the setter impossibly hard. “Little slut.”

“M’not a slut,” you whined, spreading your legs further apart. You were contradicting yourself. You were on display for him as if his apartment was some kind of brothel. The look in his eyes when he saw your gorgeous body, your thighs still trembling in the aftershocks of your release. Fuck, it really looked like he ripped you straight out of a porno. 

“Then how come you’re spread out like one for me, hm? That pussy’s dripping all over my bed, dirty girl.” he slid off his swimming trunks, his cock slapping against his rock-hard abs. He boasted a proud, sensitive pink tip that was leaking with precum. He pumped his cock a few times before aligning it with your entrance, slapping the head against your clit. “Now, are you gonna beg for me to fuck you better than that pathetic ex-boyfriend of yours ever could?” he looked directly into the camera, mesmerized by the flashing red light. “Better than Ushijima, I’m better than Ushijima.”

“T-Toru!” you whined, pulling him down by his shoulders into a passionate kiss. You stared into the camera as well, giving it a wink. Using Oikawa’s first name would surely make your ex furious. It just had to. “Fuck me! Fuck me better than Wakatoshi ever could!” you sobbed, wrapping your legs around his waist so he had no hope of escaping. Your eyes were wet with fake tears, begging him to ruin you.

“Shit,” he groaned, pushing the head of his cock past your entrance. “That’s what I like to fucking hear.” he slammed his lips down on yours once again, bullying the rest of his throbbing length deep inside your heat. “So fucking tight.” Oikawa hissed at the sight of your greedy pussy sucking him in, his teeth nipping at your lips.

“S’fucking big, Toru! Fuck!” you cried, your nails leaving angry red crescent marks on his back. Oikawa revealed in the pleasure, continuing to make out with you as he fucked you harder, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix occasionally.

“You’ve ever been fucked this hard before, hm?” he bit down on your shoulder, leaving an imprint of his teeth. “No one’s ever fucked this pussy as good before, huh? Fucking answer me, cutie,” his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing softly. 

You gasped, struggling to take his massive cock and breath at the same time. “No one’s, fuck, no one’s ever fucked me like this before, Toru!” you sobbed, sighing in relief as he let go of your neck.

“So fucking obedient. And you let her dump you, Usjijima? Fucking pathetic,” he rolled his hips against yours, hitting even deeper inside your pussy. His balls slapped against the cleft of your ass, the apartment echoing with lustful moans and squeals. He grabbed your jaw and pulled you in for another kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as his cock ravaged your core. 

“Toru, I’m gonna fucking cum!” you sob into his mouth, your nails now leaving furious red scratches down his back. He whined into your mouth, his hips never faltering as they continued their unrelenting and unforgiving speed. Sweat dripped from his brow and into your hair, moan after beautiful moan being ripped from your lips as he fucked you like he owned you, like you were his. It was more than just a revenge fuck, so much more.

“Fucking cum on my cock, cutie. Be a good fucking slut and make a mess on this cock,” he growled into your mouth, pulling on your hair to force your neck to the side. He planted open-mouth kisses as you were pushed over the edge, crying out his name as your release coated his pulsating shaft. 

Fuck, he wasn’t going to last, not at the rate that your pussy was milking him. He eagerly reached for his phone on the mattress, and just as he felt his orgasm approach, he pulled out of your addictive cunt. The camera app was opened, and the record button was pressed, videoing Oikawa desperately fisting his cock before letting out a guttural, almost animalistic roar. His thick, white-hot ropes of cum painted your stomach and fucked out face, some even landing on your lips. Oikawa stopped recording and took several pictures, each with a different angle of your cum-covered curves.

“Gorgeous,” the setter muttered, tossing his phone back onto the now-ruined sheets. He got off the bed and grabbed the camera, winking at the lens as he hit the power button. The light stopped blinking, and Oikawa was satisfied. “Well, you just made your first porno. How do you feel about that, cutie?” 

You shrugged your shoulders. “It’s more of a revenge porno than anything, but I liked it,” you averted your gaze. “You’re a good fuck.”

He placed a hand on his hip. “Well, obviously,” Oikawa rolled his eyes, grabbed a box of tissues, and handed them to you. “Clean yourself off. I’ll run you a bath in a minute.”

You needed clarification. “You’re doing aftercare?”

“Why the hell would I not?” he sounded offended. 

“Because you seem like an inconsiderate piece of shit,” your words were so casual, yet so mean. Why did Oikawa crave more?

“I made you cum, didn’t I?” he snatched the box of tissues out of your hand. “Twice, I made you cum twice. That’s more than fucking Ushijima ever could.”

“Woah, don’t get your panties in a twist. It was just an assumption, damn.” you rolled your eyes, stepping off of the bed. “Now, I’m gonna need to borrow a shirt before I get the hell out of here. You kind of ruined my bikini top.”

Oikawa shook his head, placing the camera inside his drawer beside him. “You aren’t going anywhere, not until I’ve gotten as many orgasms as I want out of that slutty little pussy of yours.”

You chuckled darkly and pounced on him, straddling his waist once again. “Only if I get to be on top this time, okay?” you licked his neck. “I wanna see how the Great King reacts to Shiratorizawa’s Princess riding his cock.”

Oikawa grinned and pulled you down for another kiss, his cock already hard. You were in for a long fucking night.

Ushijima woke up to an onslaught of ringing sounds coming from his phone. Groaning, he turned to the side to see who had the balls to be emailing him at 2:56 in the morning. 

His eyes widened as he saw two video attachments, as well as several image attachments, of Oikawa’s cock plunging in and out of his ex-girlfriend's pussy. Her cries and moans quickly filled up his bedroom as Oikawa’s mischievous brown eyes locked with Ushijima’s green ones from behind the screen. He sat up, scrolling through the rest of the attachments. Each image was enough to send him into a rage, but the last one was what got to him. Your head resting on Oikawa’s chest, various hickeys covering your tits and neck as you slept soundly. On the other hand, Oikawa was smirking as he held up the number five with his fingers. Ushijima’s hands cracked his phone, shattering the protective glass.

Toru Oikawa was a smug-ass motherfucker.

[veritasangel]

Orange slices

ft. Oikawa Tōru

⋆ ˚｡⋆ fem pov ୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw content {mdni} ↣ vaginal penetration (unprotected), creampie, oral (reader receiving), fucking against apartment windows but nobody can see

↣ let's just pretend he's in necochea...tagging @draculakawa bcs i know you love him (art credit goes to: @/HQ_YUNAK on X and second one i still gotta find)

wc: 2.6k

A small holiday to Argentina with friends was just to unwind from the stress of your daily life, you definitely didn’t mean to end up in some cute guy's bed that you met whilst sunbathing at the beach.

Your friends had babbled on about how he was a great athlete, volleyball to be specific. You didn’t know if they were lying or not though since you’d never watched volleyball.

Your thoughts were soon interrupted by Tōru rolling over in the bed, one strong arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you in close enough to bury his face against the crook of your neck. “Well good morning, beautiful.” he mumbled against your skin, tongue darting out to run over the rose shade marks blooming on your skin from last night.

You laugh a little as he lifts his head to look down at you, “Morning to you too.” you smile as he grins at you cheekily.

God, he’s gorgeous. How did I get the courage to approach him yesterday?

“I don’t know how but you look even prettier when you’ve just woken up.” he says with effortless charm, making you wonder if he's used that line before. You laugh a little, shaking off the compliment as you sit up to get out of bed.

“Nuh uh-” his smirk evident in his tone as he pulls you back. “It’s still early and I don’t want you disappearing on me....Besides, I’m not against a repeat of last night.” he teases as he leans in to kiss you.

Instead of resisting, you let yourself fall back onto the bed, a smile curving your lips as you kiss back. You didn't even know him all that well yet but something about this felt right.

As his tongue met yours, your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging gently as the kiss deepened. The warmth in your chest grew, desire blooming as he trailed kisses down your neck. You hummed softly, arching into the sensation.

Tōru's hand wanders down your curves, before settling on your inner thigh. He trails kisses down your body until he was hovering right above your panties.

However, you hadn’t eaten since yesterday evening and of course your stomach decided to make it known in the most obnoxiously loud rumble that lasted a good 10 seconds.

He bites your thigh softly, laughing a little, the sound, captivating.  “You hungry?”

“Mhm…what gave it away?”

He snorts, retreating as he sits up, “Come, let’s get you some food.”

“But-”

“We’ll still be having a repeat of last night, don’t you worry, but when you’ve eaten. I’m a hospitable man and I know how to treat a pretty lady.” he teases as he gets out of bed, throwing some shorts on.

You follow not long after, slipping out of the comfy bed and opting to wear his t-shirt, since your only other option was the dress you wore last night.

You walked down the hall and past the living room, admiring the apartment. Every corner decorated with memories and trinkets, it was nice and homey. Picture frames adorned the walls, some of Tōru with who you’d assume was friends or family and also...volleyball pictures.

So he is actually a volleyball player.

You reached the kitchen as you settled on the counter whilst he rummaged through his fridge and cupboards with a defeated expression, “It would seem that I need to do a weekly shop." he says sheepishly, "But I have fruit for days. Oranges, strawberries, mangoes, you name it. You know, if that's okay, for now?"

"Fruit sounds great, I can let you off the hook for no breakfast if this fruit is top notch." you joke, watching as he began preparing the fruit, cutting each individual one into neat slices and placing them on a plate.

"So, tell me more about you. I only remember bits and pieces from last night," you say, curious to learn more about the man you shared a passionate night with.

Tōru glanced up at you, a proud smile on his face as he mentioned, "I'm a volleyball player...a setter. It's the best sport in the world, albeit I'm a littlee biased."

He places a plate of fruit beside you as he continues, "Club Athletico San Juan, if you wanna see a game of mine."

The conversation flowed easily, both of you laughing and getting to know each other better. It was effortless, natural and a part of you wondered if this would've been something more, had this not been a brief holiday, but you shrugged it off.

He handed you an orange slice which you accepted as you gazed at him, a smile playing on your lips. There was something magnetic about him, a pull that you couldn't deny. His golden brown eyes and messy chocolate hair was definitely a sight you could appreciate.

You wished you could stay longer, to explore every inch of this newfound connection. Still, you could enjoy the present, savouring the taste of the orange and the company of a stranger who became so much more within a single night.

As you both indulged in the fruit platter, you shared laughs. The atmosphere light, the bond between the two of you growing stronger with every passing second. You felt comfortable, at ease, and happy.

“How long are you here for?” he asks.

"The next two weeks," you reply, setting the half-eaten orange on the plate, biting your lip. "Maybe I'll catch a game whilst I'm here."

There was a spark in his eyes at the thought, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement. With a smile, he assured you, "Absolutely. I'll make sure to get you one of the best seats...You wanna watch my ass or my face?"

You blurt out laughing, "No no, I'll properly watch the game, you can run me through the rules...either sight's a bonus though."

As your laughter and chatter filled the room, he couldn't help but focus on everything about you, your hair, your eyes, your smile, he can't remember a time he was this attracted to someone.

"Well I couldn't give you a proper breakfast this morning, aside from some delicious fruit, so you have to let me take you to dinner on at least one night." he argues.

"Deal. Dinner sounds lovely."

With the agreement made, you both finished up your fruit, the conversation easing into the background as you enjoyed each other's company in comfortable silence.

"You've got fruit juice all over your lips." you tell Tōru with a laugh

"You're not one to talk, angel." he retorted with a grin, wiping the remnants of the juice from your lips with a thumb, deliberate and slow, the juice coating his thumb.

"Maybe I should clean you up properly." He leaned in, claiming your lips again, the taste of the fruit still on your tongues. You were caught in a whirlwind of passion, the morning sun casting a golden light on the both of you.

The sweetness of the orange mingling with the heat of his kiss. A gentle moan escaping your lips as you pulled him in closer, craving the intimacy.

He steadied you on the counter with one hand, as the other pushed its way into your panties, sliding through your folds. A gasp slipped past your lips as he rubbed his thumb against your clit, eliciting a shiver from the intimate touch.

His fingers teased you, the sensations leaving you desperate for more. Your head fell back, trusting him completely as the connection between the two of you intensified.

Every movement of his fingers sent shockwaves through your body, the pleasure mounting "Tōru," you whispered, nails digging into his forearm.

"Hmm?" he hummed against your mouth, his fingers never stopping.

"Please," you begged, the pleasure threatening to consume you whole.

A wicked smile curled on his lips as he watched your reaction with charmed interest. He tugged your panties to the side as he lowered himself down enough to kiss along your thighs, trailing closer to your pussy.

"Tōru!" you exclaimed, stifling a moan as he shifted, his warm breath brushing against your sensitive skin. He momentarily replaced his fingers with his mouth, the delightful contrast of cool air and heat washing over you. Pleasure rippled through your body as his tongue flicked against you, each lick drawing you closer to the edge.

You gripped the counter, your body taut with anticipation, riding the waves of ecstasy as he explored you. He could sense how your body quivered under his mouth, the tension mounting, and he increased the pressure, his lips sucking at your clit, his tongue licking and circling around it.

His hand found the back of your thigh, using it to spread your legs open a little more, allowing better access and stopping you from forcing your legs shut from the sensation.

He could taste your arousal, the sweetness of your desire. It made his own cock throb in his pants, but he stifled the urge for now, focused solely on pleasuring you. As he continued his ministrations, the rhythmic motions driving you closer and closer to the edge, he pressed a finger into you gently.

Your soft moans were music to his ears, each one a testament to the pleasure he was giving you. He felt your body tense and he knew you were close. He curled his fingers at the right angle, fervently sucking on your clit. You arched your back, breath hitching in your throat as he continued, his fingers relentless, pushing you higher and higher.

With a last, precise thrust of his fingers, he heard your cry of pleasure, felt your body shudder and convulse. He smiled against your wet folds, savouring the quivering muscles and the way you shook slightly.

"Much sweeter than the fruit" he murmured, his voice thick with adoration. He paused for a moment, letting you come down from your high before withdrawing completely.

"Feel like we should make the most of this brief time we have." you manage to finally say as your breathing steadies, looking down at him between your thighs.

Tōru agrees, his eyes sparkling with mischief and desire, your own juices now running down his chin, which he wipes away, only to lick his fingers clean.

“Have I shown you the view?” he teases, and you’re unsure where this is going as he guides you off the counter, walking you over to the floor to ceiling windows in the living room.

The view of course being a beautiful and mesmerising sea view. The waves crashing against the shore as the water sparkled under the sun.

He leans down, whispering in your air, “You can watch the sea as I fuck you...You know, really appreciate Argentina whilst you’re here.” he jokes, slipping your underwear completely down to your ankles, his shorts joining them on the floor as he lifts up the shirt that you're wearing, his shirt.

“Alright, pretty,” he says huskily, “Let's enjoy the view.” He has you against the cool glass as he lines himself up, one hand reaching around to rest on your stomach.

“Ready?” he asks, his voice low and rough. Your hips rock back, inviting him in, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance. With a deep growl, he pushes in, filling you completely. The combination of fullness and the sight before you sends shivers down your spine.

“Fuck, yes,” Tōru groans, pulling back slightly before thrusting forward once more. The rhythm quickens, his hand gripping your hip to steady your movements, and your moans growing louder as you watch the horizon.

His movements become more urgent, each thrust driving deeper. His hand moves from your stomach to move your hair, exposing the tender skin of your neck. He presses soft kisses there, his teeth nipping and scraping, marking you as his, if only during these two weeks.

The sensations build, your body arching, begging for release. Tōru can sense your need, and he responds by thrusting faster, the sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing through the spacious room.

“You look real good in my shirt, fuck- but you’d look better if it was my volleyball one.” he groans at the thought of you wearing his name and number, the image sending waves of desire through him.

He can already imagine it, you wearing his jersey, your hair dishevelled, a sly grin on your lips as you lay in his bed, waiting for him. The mental image fuels his actions, his pace becoming frantic, desperate.

God, he’d known you for no more than 24 hours but he was hooked already, captivated by you.

His grip tightens on your hip, the force of his thrusts increasing, each one bringing you closer to the edge. Your eyes flutter shut for a moment before Tōru's voice meets your ear, "Open your eyes, baby-" a small whine escaping his throat that he tries to cover up by nibbling your earlobe.

As your eyes flutter open at Tōru's urging, you're still reeling from the sensation of his cock stretching you out. "Necochea," he says, his voice thick and heavy with lust, "Is a small city, the beach is perfect for surfing."

His hands roam along your body as he lifts one of your legs to allow himelf to thrust deeper, "Quequen Lighthouse's nice, I should show you." he says and you're hardly paying attention to what he's saying when he's hitting all the right spots.

"As much as I would love to learn about this place, kindly shut up for the moment." you say breathily, a small laugh escaping before your breath hitches as his fingers meet your clit.

He chuckles at your demand, as he continues the movement of his skilled fingers. "Don't worry, baby, I promise I'll show you all the best parts of this place, might have to steal you from your friends."

Tōru keeps his word, his hand working mercilessly, his cock pounding into you, his thrusts deep and unrelenting. The dual assault has you teetering on the edge once more, your body pressed against the glass, completely at his mercy.

“Almost there, angel,” he promises, his voice a low rumble, "Tell me when you're ready for me to fill you up.” his words and the feeling of his thrusts was overwhelming to say the least.

You gasp, your mind swimming in a sea of sensation, unable to form words. It's all too much as your muscles spasm, your climax crashing over you, utterly consuming you.

Tōru feels you tighten around him, and with a deep growl, he follows you over the edge, his cum filling you completely to the brim as he holds you close, your bodies sticky with sweat and desire. He rests his head on yours as he tries to steady his breathing.

Finally, he pulls out, easing your leg back down as he turns you around, "Thank you for letting me show you a different side of Argentina," he murmurs, his voice soft and laced with contentment.

His lips find yours in a deep, lingering kiss, the scent of sex and sweat mixing with the salty tang of the sea in the background.

He holds you close, tapping your legs as if urging you to lift them, so you do, wrapping them around his waist as he lifts you up, moving through the apartment, tongues still dancing against one another.

He grins into the kiss as he carries you to the bedroom, "One more round and then I swear I'll drive you back to your Airbnb." he teases, laying you down on his bed.

“But you better come to my game next friday.”

༄ m.list

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[lewisvinga]

empanadaaaas | carlos sainz x argentine! fem! reader

summary; who would’ve thought that carlos would find a new love after visiting argentina with his girlfriend

fc; rita mota

warnings; ?

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

notes; requested !

masterlist !

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yourusername uploaded to their story !

[caption 1; 🤍] [caption 2; mi amor with me in my beloved argentina 🫶]

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liked by carlossainz55, yoursister, and others !

yourusername:🇦🇷🤍

tagged; carlossainz55, yoursister

carlosainz55: 😍😍😍 liked by yourusername !

carlossainz55: vamos argentina ! 🇦🇷

yourusername: and that’s how you win papa l/n over 😁😁

username: not u taking a SPANIARD to latinoamerica ma’am…. STAND UP

yourusername: he’s a cute spaniard tho😞

username: told y’all carlos is for the latinas 💆‍♀️

username: ugh the wispy bangs r everything

username: i wanna be u

yoursister: tell ur bf to STOP EATING MY EMPANADAS

carlossainz55: ur mom made them for me🤔

yoursister: whatever mamá makes = mine

yourusername: i wish i could get him to stop but he refuses to eat anything else or else he’ll starve 😞😞

yoursister: y tu pobre hermana??? ella está muriéndose del hambre. 😒 [and your poor sister, she is dying of hunger]

carlossainz55: we went out for ice cream 2 hrs ago???

yoursister: where’s my empanada.

carlossainz55: in my stomach😋😋

username: those empanados look saur good i get carlos tbh

username: ARGENTINAAAAA🇦🇷🇦🇷

yourbestfriend: WOWZERSSS UR SO😍

yourusername: UR WOWZERSS😘

alexandrasaintmleux: so gorgeous 🥹 i’ve been wanting to go🤍

yourusername: next time bby, girls trip to argentinaaaa💕

username: this is so messi core

username: HELPPP

username: no1 gonna mention the last pic?? bc i’ve been thinking abt it for the past 30 mins 🚶‍♀️

username: carlos w the basic white dog in a latino household HELPPP😭

username: okay but y/n and y/s/n always eattt😫

username: now i’m craving empanadas 😔😔

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liked by yourusername, landonorris, and others !

carlossainz55: te quiero argentina por y/n y empanadaaaas [i love you argentina for y/n and empanadas]

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: carlitooosssss, q guapooooo😻 [how handsome]

carlossainz55: y usted tan hermosa, nena 😍 [and you’re so beautiful]

yourusername: so grateful to show you argentina 🤍🇦🇷

carlossainz55: so grateful to know this beautiful country 🤍

yoursister: i’m sick of y’all already🤢

carlossainz55: tengo un amigo bien guapo , [i have a very handsome friend] and he’s your age 😁

yoursister: ou say lessss

yourusername: NOT lando. anyone but lando

landonorris: what’s wrong w me😢

yourusername: british and doesn’t like fish 😕

yoursister: he’s cute i can get past it 😛😛

landonorris: you like fish?? yoursister i can get past it too😁

username: NOT THE EMPANADA MENTION LMAOO😭

username: carlos rlly loves empanadas he’s jus like me fr

username: y/n is everything 😫

username: hes sooo bf

username: sexy spaniard i get u y/n i rlly do

yourusername: weak for that spaniard 😞 i’m making him argentine tho #trust

carlossainz55: mi gente latino ✊

charles_leclerc: i’m afraid to ask how many empanadas you ate

carlossainz55: you don’t want to know.

username: when will it be my turn to find a spanish bf and take him to argentina 🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️

username: ARGENTINA MENTIONED🇦🇷🔥

username: they’re everything to me pls

username: caption is SO true

username: i wonder how madridista carlos feels knowing y/n and her family are messi fans

yourusername: good thing we’re madridistas too💯💯

carlossainz55: i did that😁

[imninahchan]

⌜ 𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐒: felipe!namoradinho, rivalidade brasil x argentina, oral fem, strength kink(?), pussy spanking, masturbação fem, fingering, dirty talk, degradação, dumbification. Termos em espanhol — me vulve loco (me deixa louco), boluda (boba), perrita (cadelinha rsrs) ˚ ☽ ˚.⋆ ⌝

꒰ 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑨𝑺 𝑫𝑨 𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑨 ꒱ pau no uc dos argentino

𓍢ִ໋🀦 NAMORAR UM ARGENTINO LOUCO POR FUTEBOL NÃO É A COISA MAIS SIMPLES NA SUA VIDA AGORA ─────

A faculdade te toma tempo, neurônios. A sua família e os traumas são uma soma instável. Mas Felipe... Pô, Felipe ganha de tudo.

Ele ama futebol. É apaixonado. Se não fosse pelo simples fato de que obviamente precisa fazer outras coisas no cotidiano além de estar num estádio, marcaria presença em todo jogo do time do coração. E não, os problemas não surgem quando é o River quem está buscando a taça do campeonato — nem quando é época de Libertadores, honestamente —, as coisas ficam sinistras ao se falar de nível nacional.

Entenda, ele é argentino... (respira fundo)... a camisa alviceleste combina com a cor dos olhinhos claros, está recitando junto dos outros hermanos os cantos de torcida para alfinetar o adversário enquanto termina uma latinha de cerveja. E você não abre mão da amarelinha. Pode até dizer um êeee parabéns, amor quando o River ganha um jogo, no entanto essa complacência não existe se falando da seleção. Você vai tietar os jogadores, gritar com a TV, jurar que dessa vez a gente ganha e jogar na cara o penta do país do futebol pra qualquer argentino que queira te peitar no bar.

Na última copa, você lembra, foi bem “intenso” pra vocês dois no Qatar. Não vamos falar daquela cobrança de pênaltis contra a Croácia porque desalinha os seus chakras, mas você chorou nas arquibancadas, não chorou? E quando Pipe te abraçou, fazendo acreditar que faria a linha namorado que vai oferecer muitos mimos, mas mandou um agora você pode torcer pra Argentina, cariño, você jura, só não jogou ele arquibancada abaixo pois ficou com medo de ser presa e deportada. Ah, mas o Messi merecia a... Pau no cu do Messi, cara!

Só que tudo ainda ficou pior, né? Implorou ao máximo pros franceses naquela final, oui oui mon ami, esquecendo toda a camaradagem latina, porém não adiantou muito. Felipe ficou insuportável, e como são um casal, bem... sabe como é... as dinâmicas dentro do quarto ganharam um toque especial, vamos dizer assim. Seu namorado começa com o pé direito, com a vantagem. A camisa dez alviceleste ficou o tempo todo no seu torso, mesmo que ele precisasse enfiar as mãos por baixo do tecido para apertar os seus seios. As circunstâncias pra chegar naquele estado, de quatro na cama do hotel pro canalha patife, não era a das melhores, porém o orgasmo foi tão, tão intenso que você esqueceu por um momento a melancolia.

Desde então, que vença o melhor.

— Adivinha quem a gente eliminou das olimpíadas hoje? — Ele sussurra ao pé do seu ouvido, surgindo feito um fantasma.

Você já está com a faca e o queijo na mão pra refutar. Mas a feminina tá classificada! Ele cruza os braços, o bonezinho virado pra trás.

— Mas aí não vale! — alega, pautado numa regra que ele mesmo deve ter inventado. — Ó, te espero no quarto em cinco minutos, bota a camisa dez.

E entre ganhar e perder, os humilhados também são exaltados. Deus é brasileiro, falha mas não tarda, você tem a sua vingança. Abre a porta do quarto, tira o headset da orelha dele, roubando toda a atenção do joguinho de vídeo game, para avisar: ‘tá na presença do novo campeão mundial, respeita.’

Ele descansa o console sobre as coxas, com a maior calma, a cabeça já fazendo que não, no automático.

— É futebol de areia, não vale.

— Independente, irmão.

— Já falei que não vale.

— É o hexa, pai, vai Brasil!

— Não vou fazer nada.

— É, em cinco-oito foi o Pelé~

A ordem é clara: ‘seguinte, bota o manto da nação do futebol que eu tô te esperando na sala, hermano’, e não demora muito pra você desviar a atenção do filme na televisão pra ver a figura do rapaz com o rosto encostado na parede, a carinha de cachorro que caiu da mudança, na esquina pro corredor do apartamento.

Não consegue segurar o sorriso, e ri ainda mais quando ele resmunga um para de rir, boluda. A amarelinha número nove foi comprada especialmente para esses momentos, nas costas largas o nome de Richarlison estampa onde geralmente você costuma ler algum sobrenome em espanhol. Infla o seu ego, não tem medo do perigo.

Felipe se ajoelha sobre o tapete, o corpo entre as suas pernas. Olhar caído, o jeito de estressadinho na forma com que suspira, segurando nos seus joelhos.

— Tá, o que você quer que eu faça? — já vai questionando. — Quer que eu te chupe? Tira o short.

— Calma, hermano. — Pega por cima das mãos dele, impedindo que possa alcançar o cós do seu short jeans. Está gargalhando, provocante. — Vai, dá uma voltinha pra mim. Deixa eu te ver — instiga. Tira o boné da cabeça dele para bagunçar os fios corridos. — Cê fica tão bonitinho de amarelo...

A expressão se fecha na face do argentino, imitando o som da sua risada, gastando. Se levanta, sim, só que é pra pegar nos seus pulsos, dominar o seu corpo por baixo do dele até te trazer pro colo. Ah, que engraçadinha... Tá tão acostumada a perder, né, vida, que não sabe aproveitar quando ganha. E porque é mais forte, facilmente te molda, a mão firma na sua coxa, aperta a carne. Apenas pela indelicadeza de ser manejada já te dá tesão.

— Eu te amo muito, tá? — ele diz. — Porque, senão, eu nunca vestiria uma camisa tão feia.

— Olha, como cê fala da pátria amada...

— Se os caras me virem com essa blusa eu vou estar sujeito a enforcamento em praça pública.

— Inclusive, vamo’ tirar uma foto?

Que foto!, ele estala um tapinha na sua coxa, com cara de bravinho. Os dedos rapidamente seguram no cós do seu short pra puxar abaixo junto da peça íntima. Vai se colocando mais uma vez de joelhos no tapete da sala, ainda sustentando a pose de irritado, de cenho franzido, ao passo que as suas risadinhas se somam. É lindinho de ver, te faz morder o lábio, danada, deixando o rapaz separar as suas pernas, encaixando a parte de trás do seu joelho no ombro dele.

Ele chupa o próprio polegar, antes de levá-lo até o seu pontinho sensível. Tá muito cheia de gracinha, murmura, sem tirar os olhos do que faz, os movimentos circulares lentinhos, Me vuelve loco, perrita.

Um sorrisinho repuxa no canto da sua boca. É um combo de estímulos — a sensação quente na boca do estômago que a masturbação causa, o tom emburradinho da voz masculina e, claro, o termo degradante com o qual já está acostumada a ouvir ecoando pelas paredes desse apartamento. Mas lamuria, fazendo você um dengo dessa vez.

Felipe ergue o olhar pra ti, o nariz empinadinho.

— Cê tá burlando as regras, eu não deveria aceitar — diz, e a voz fica mais baixa, charmosa, pra completar: ‘mas acho que vou ter peninha de você, okay?’

Os seus dedos vão parar nos fios dos cabelos dele assim que o argentino se inclina pra beijar a sua virilha. Enrola as mechas, escuta os estalidos dos lábios na sua pele. Os selares se arrastando pelo seu monte de vênus, até o indicador e o médio dele te separarem em v pra que a língua possa perpassar.

Hmmm, você se contorce de prazer, forçando de leve a cabeça dele entre as suas pernas. Morde na gola da blusa, na falsa crença de vai abafar os gemidos dessa forma. Cerra os olhos, o quadril ganhando vida sobre o estofado, inquieto, remexendo-se contra o carinho que ganha. ‘Lipe, o apelido soando abrasileirado mesmo, a voz mais doce que o normal nesses momentos.

— Hm? — ele murmura com a boca em ti ainda, a vibração da garganta te faz estremecer. — Fala — volta a te olhar, o polegar assumindo a posição que detinha sobre o seu clitóris inchadinho. Você aprecia a visão dos lábios masculinos cintilando de tão molhadinhos, a imensidão tropical nas íris clarinhas feito o mar límpido. Porra, se tinha alguma coisa pra dizer, até se esquece...

‘Nem sabe mais falar’, caçoa, lendo o seu estado aparente. A cara de decepção é fingida, faz parte de um teatrinho junto do tom manso. ‘Já te deixei bobinha, é? Poxa, normalmente você dura mais, nena...’

— Pipe — chama por ele mais uma vez, num sussurro. A natureza da sua personalidade te faz querer rebater cada baixaria que ele te diz, no imediato, apesar de nem saber o que retrucar.

O tapinha que ganha na buceta desencadeia um sobressalto, o seu rostinho de coitadinha para encará-lo. O indicador da outra mão dele colando na sua boca pra te calar, shhh, evitar um gemido depravado, eu sei, bebê, shhh...

— Já tô sabendo — te garante, chegando mais perto. Os lábios molhadinhos beijam na sua bochecha, terno, melam a região. — Tá querendo levar pica, não? Ou serve os meus dedos mesmo? — Desce o toque pra entradinha, desenha a abertura. — Quantos você quer? Dois serve, não serve? Assim, olha... — E uma dupla afunda pra dentro, desliza devagarinho, desaparecendo na quentura do seu corpo. Ele assiste o que faz, até as juntas impedirem de te tomar mais, e volta o foco pra ti. — Ou quer mais um? Se eu meter três talvez te deixo larguinha pra foder depois...

— Sim...

— Sim? — repete, gozando do seu tom. Estala mais um tapa entre as suas pernas, sorrindo quando te vê chiando, agarrada ao antebraço dele, com os músculos travadinhos. — Sou muito feliz por ter uma namorada tão cadelinha por foda assim, sabia? — Dá outro beijinho na bochecha, um afeto suave que contradiz com a penetração profunda dos três dedos de uma vez só. — Quando eu tô te fodendo, e você até baba na fronha do travesseiro de tão burrinha de levar pica, é a coisa mais linda... Até esqueço que tô namorando o inimigo...

— Felipe... — resmunga entre dentes, as unhas cravando na pele dele.

— É, cê não teve culpa de nascer no país errado — ele continua, descarado. O melhor ainda é a expressão de anjinho na face, os olhinhos claros brilhando, parecendo maiores. — Pelo menos, cê achou o cara certo pra te tratar direitinho, te comer bem. — Os dedos escorregam pra fora para que o indicador possa concentrar o carinho no seu clitóris. — Algum brasileiro te fodia assim, hm? Acho que não, né? Se teve que apelar pra um argentino... A gente não tem culpa de ser tão bom, gatinha.

— Felipe — a ênfase na pronúncia é um aviso duplo; as provocações estão fervendo seu sangue nas veias, e o corpo não vai tolerar muito mais tempo sem se derramar em breve.

— Aproveita a sua taça de futebol de areia — zomba, rindo, e vai chegando ainda mais pertinho do seu ouvido pra finalizar: ‘porque aquele seu Neymar vai aposentar sem uma copa.’

— Felipe, eu juro...

[afyrian]

☀️🏠 + post brazil shoyo please !! any format

hope uve been good <3 waited on the event since u posted about it im so excited to see what u write

sunburn soulmates hinata shoyo x fem!reader (fluff) synopsis: sunburn + next door neighbor word count: 720 warnings: sunburns masterlist

   rapid knocking rattles the paintings by your front door, your apartment walls thin and weak. your eyebrows furrow curiously at the extreme noise. it takes you a few seconds, but you can recognize the rapid knocking, the heaviness of each knock attributed to one person. it has the same melody every time, even if it’s unintentional on his behalf. 

  you shake your head, smiling to yourself, wondering what your next door neighbor needed. tying the string within your shorts a little tighter, you open the front door, eyes peering at the man in front of you. there your neighbor stands, his skin a deep pink color and some tan lines around his eyes, "shoyo? what happened?"

  the obvious answer pops into your head, but with how burnt he is, it's hard to wonder how this could've happened to him, "we had some beach volleyball games today. do you think you could help me with some aloe vera?"

  "sho.. this looks terrible!" you bring your hand up to your cheek, covering some of your mouth as you shake your head, "i mean i can help, but shoyo this is absolutely terrible! and dangerous, gosh you really have to worry about this kind of stuff!"

  he waddles into your apartment, careful not to bump anything in the fear of feeling the painful sting. you purse your lips as you watch him make his way over to your couch, sitting on your floor in front of it. very rarely has he come over for help like this. however, in those few times, you still found yourselves giving it a certain routine. his legs are crossed, waiting patiently for your help.

  following him over, he hands the bottle of aloe vera to you, it nearly empty from his accidental burns. "your concerns are absolutely valid! we were just out for so long and forgot to check the time," shoyo frowns away from you, yet you feel like you can hear it in his voice. 

  even if neither of you have said it, he always feel bad whenever you worry for him. the anxiety in his heart building equally with yours, not for his own health, but for you. for the stress that he unintentionally causes within you. 

  "next time set a reminder or an alarm or something!! doctor's orders," you dump some of the aloe vera into your hand, stamping it onto his back in different places, trying to get it spaced evenly.

  "ma'am yes ma'am, i'll even call you every time i reapply just so it keeps me accountable," he looks back at you, wincing a little as his neck twists with his head, a smile still somehow making its way to his face, "if you're okay with that, that is."

  you roll your eyes to yourself, leaning forward to spread it across his back. he turns back around before he can see it, unable to see your reaction. however, he can tell that you won't say to no to him, not in a million years you'd say no to him. and he's correct, you mentally preparing yourself to take him off of do not disturb. 

  "yeah it is, you know it is sho. besides, i like having you as my neighbor. you're dependable, kind hearted," you run your hands up his neck, just barely feeling the short hairs right under his hairline. 

  goosebumps run up his back and you can see him shiver a little. the aloe vera creates a cool coating on his skin, rivaling that of the heat that the sun added to his epidermis. "you do? well then i'll have to stick around for a little while longer. plus it seems that msby black jackals is looking for players," he mentions, indicating that he wouldn't be moving back to argentina anytime soon. 

 "you'd stay for little old me?" you question, running your hands down his sides, nearly finished covering his back with aloe vera. 

  "yeah, yeah, i'd stay for little ol’ you," he turns to look at you, unaware of how close you are to him now, nearly off the couch as you lean forward. 

  you stare into his brown eyes, unable to look away from them. there's always been something about your next door neighbor that you couldn't quite escape. particularly the love that he feels for you.

a/n: i’ve been great!! thanks for this prompt, i loved it <33 and i hope i did your idea justice!