#sorry onda

[myriadfrogs]

i hate p.e i hate geometry i hate school i am going to Explode i was literally seeing red like 5 mins ago

[diodellet]

(me waking up to this and not expecting lifeguard!jamil rizz in addition to the clownery, colorized)

thinking of rolling up to the pool on lifeguard!jamil's shift with one of these bad boys👇

https://www.tumblr.com/sandmandaddy69/748387138527166464?source=share

do you think ill still have a chance with him (delulu) it cud fit 2 people i think if we sit close to eo

Hello Anon! ☆

Thank you so much for your ask, and for your interest in my Scarabia Lifeguard AU! I appreciate it so much ♡

Ahhhhhhh Anon! I didn't even know floats like these existed lol ♡ I think Jamil would have a heart attack if he saw one of these during his shift lol ♡

I can imagine it now...lifeguard Jamil sitting high in his chair, observing the pool area. He looks over towards the deep end and has to do a double take, practically falling out of his chair at the sight of a giant roach in the pool. His heart is beating rapidly, a hand over his chest as he looks closer, realizing it was just a float someone was using. I honestly think he would glare at the person, feeling like it was a personal attack (when it wasn't lol ♡)

In the case of the Reader though...perhaps they get it to tease him, trying to be playful?? ♡

Here's a fic about it (since I couldn't resist lol ♡) Enjoy! ♡

☀︎ Lovebug ☀︎

☀︎ Scarabia Lifeguard AU ☀︎ Oneshot ☀︎ Established Relationship ☀︎

*Please note that this is non-canon to the series! ♡

Jamil looked towards the entrance again, wondering where you were. It was getting late, the pool closing in an hour. You would usually be here by now, swimming in the water or relaxing in the sun. He couldn't help but look whenever someone would enter the pool area, hoping it would be you. Kalim had taken notice, telling him that you were probably just running late, and that he'd let him know if he saw you. Kalim's words eased his mind a bit, knowing that he shouldn't expect you everyday.

He can't help it though, having gotten used to your presence. How you would wave at him as soon as you entered, a smile on your face. How you would sit close to his chair, always on his side and never on Kalim's. The talks you would have, the games you would play. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he looks forward to coming to work now, knowing he'd get to see you.

His head snaps up as he notices someone enter, his features softening when he sees it's you. He waits until you look up, your eyes meeting as you wave, a small smile coming to his face. He takes his time climbing down his chair, reaching the ground as soon as you stood beside it.

He's so focused on you that he doesn't even notice Kalim, the white haired man placing a hand on his shoulder with a laugh. "Look, they're here! I told you they were just running late!"

Kalim's statement causes your eyebrow to raise, looking at Jamil curiously. The tips of his ears turn red as he elbows Kalim in the side, looking away for a moment. "Ignore him."

You look at the two of them fondly as Kalim rubs his side, doing his best to laugh it off. He can tell that Jamil wants to be alone with you, saying it was nice seeing you before walking back to his chair.

As Kalim leaves, Jamil spots the bag you brought, much bigger than the bag you would normally bring. He looks at you curiously, wondering if this was the reason you were late. You notice where his eyes were and smile, doing your best to sound innocent.

"I bought a new float today." You inform him, placing your bag on a nearby sun chair to take it out. You ask him to turn around as you blow it up, wanting it to be a surprise. His eyebrows raise at your request, wondering what you were up to as he turns, crossing his arms.

"Ok, you can look now." You tell him, holding the float in front of you. As soon as he turns he jumps, taking a few steps back as a horrified look comes to his face. You peek out from behind the cockroach float and laugh at his reaction, watching as his expression turned neutral, not amused.

"Ha ha, very funny. Don't expect me to save you if you fall off it in the pool" He teased, turning around as he hears you gasp.

"You don't mean that." you tell him, nudging his shoulder as you move to stand beside him. The teasing smile on your face causes his heart to beat a little faster, fighting the urge to smile (and failing).

"Wanna lay on it with me?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

"No" he responds immediately, firm in his decision.

"I guess I'll have to ask Kalim then..." you tease, pretending to walk away as you look over your shoulder at him.

"..." He sighs, shaking his head before walking ahead of you. "...only for a few minutes, and I expect you to get rid of it when you leave"

A smile comes to your face as you agree, moving to catch up with him. You don't tell him that Kalim had taken a picture, giving it to you in secret the next time you came to the pool. The picture showed you and Jamil on the cockroach float, resting in the middle of the pool. He was laying on his back as you laid on his chest, your eyes closed as you relaxed in the sun.

The picture made you smile, cherishing it as you thanked him. Who knew a float you bought as a joke, could lead to such fond memories ♡

Series Taglist (If you wish to be tagged, please let me know! ♡):

@crystallizsch, @0honeybones0, @midnightmah07, @cheerleaderman, @selfinserttothestars

@littlepenguinheart, @ven4t1c4l, @hartwyrm, @diodellet

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡

[daeluin]

[dickggansey]

me voice too goddamn low for the goddamn touch me harmonies 😔

[kkeke99]

yk what was gayo dachukjae missing? the immaculate performers everglow are.

[primaviva]

HUGS N’ KISSES

PAIRING: miles g. morales x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: your boyfriend, miles, invites you over to his place since his moms not home and he can finally have the door shut. but one teasing comment you made later and suddenly he’s asleep in your arms as you smother him in tender kisses. is he really tho?

WARNINGS/NOTES: pure fluff, one suggestive joke? heavily coded latina reader w implied curly hair, miles being petty, that’s all !!

“translations:” ¿qué onda? = whats up, novio = boyfriend, relájate = relax, chuleto = used to refer to a fashionable/flirty boy or fboy, tonto = idiot, lo siento = i’m sorry, princesa = princess

after an exhausting heatwave, new york had been graced with a week of downpours and cool streets.

you hadn't recently seen your boyfriend. yes, you spoke to him in your classes and in the hallways when you saw him at school, but it had been some time since you had last seen him outside of the school building. he frequently claimed to be busy with whatever the hell it was. but you decided against pushing it. miles is loyal to you and has been through a lot, so you don't push him to tell you when he's busy or doing something else to fill the time. instead, you wait for him to open up.

currently, you found yourself comfortably sprawled on the couch in the living room. the morning's heavy downpour had gradually subsided as the afternoon arrived, leaving behind a gentle drizzle that cascaded down the windowpane. without any particular program capturing your attention, this day seemed to be a slow one you just had to follow the vibe of. as you idly absorbed the atmosphere, your eyes wandered to the television, where a journalist was discussing the prowler's recent involvement in a local drug bust.

exhaling a sigh, you contemplated switching off the tv and surrendering to another nap, when suddenly, a notification chimed on your phone. your gaze shifted to the coffee table, where the glow of your phone illuminated the surroundings.

it was a message from your man, miles.

mi novio : ¿qué onda, mami? i miss you 😩😩

you couldn't help but roll your eyes at your phone as you silently read the text. miles had a penchant for playfully teasing and maintaining a smooth facade, all in an attempt to fluster you.

you : relájate… we texted this morning and it was you who stopped replying

you : but ig i missed you too

you could almost picture the expression on his face at that moment. maybe a subtle smirk adorned his lips in response to your sassy reply or the mention of missing him. or maybe he even did a small pout, feeling defeated that you didn’t completely fold.

mi novio : ik you missed me

mi novio : you tryna come over?

as soon as you finished reading the last line of his message, a loud laugh escaped from your lips. once again, he was acting cocky. your mouth stretched into a soft smirk as you realized you couldn't pretend that you didn't like the way he acted. it didn’t help how bold he was asking for you to come over. now that’s when you knew something was up.

the supple fabric made contact with your skin as you took up your phone and sat back against the cushions, instantly soothing your muscles as you typed up a response.

me : come over and do what lil boy…

with a laugh, you rose from the couch and strolled toward your bedroom, mentally getting ready. it was a familiar routine, the satisfying dance of teasing and banter that defined your dynamic. deep down, you knew you would end up there regardless, but relishing in the opportunity to playfully toy with him was irresistible.

you put your phone down on your bed as you opened your closet and began to put an outfit together. you felt your phone ding as you jumped into your jeans and pressed the buttons together. picking your phone up, you glanced at the text message that flashed across the screen.

mi novio : girl you know not the start with me

mi novio : and don’t act like i’m on some freaking timing when you texted the prowler to stop by your window the other night, ma

a gasp escaped your lips, and your hand instinctively flew to cover your mouth, overwhelmed by the sudden nervousness that surged through your body. your cheeks were so warm from the sudden boldness of his comments you swore you could feel the steam radiation off of them. you were well aware of his nature, but this time, he had truly caught you off guard with his little comeback.

your head quipped at the sudden notification that dinged your phone again.

mi novio : what’s wrong, you stopped typing? don’t get all shy on me now when you started it

mi novio : just come over and we’ll figure it out damn i jus wanna see you

despite your nervous state you couldn't help but smile warmly at what she said. miles isn’t always vulnerable but you loved the little crumbs you got when he spoke his mind. you could tell he really missed by just how much he was double texting, something he only does when he talks to you.

you : i'm comingg you can stop now 🫶

as you coated your hands with the product, carefully working it into a rich lather, a playful image of him rolling his eyes in response to your text crossed your mind. undeterred, you tenderly scrunched and massaged the product into your luscious locs. casting a final approving glance at your reflection in the mirror, you made sure your fit was good. with your headphones and house keys in hand, you slid into a jacket, being mindful of the weather. swiftly, you shot miles a text, letting him know you’d be there soon.

you took a deep breath as you stepped out of your house, the familiar door closing behind you with a soft click. the gray sky’s gentle glow kissed your skin, casting a dark hue upon your face. the sound of your footsteps created a comforting cadence as you strolled through the gloomy neighborhood. with each step you glanced at the dark shadows that had overtaken brooklyn throughout time.

within a short time, you found yourself on his block, reaching into your pocket to retrieve your phone and let him know you were about to pull up. as you turned the corner, his apartment building came into view, and there he stood, positioned at the entrance, patiently awaiting your arrival. clad in an oversized black puffer jacket, he exuded a sense of warmth, his hands tucked protectively into the pockets for an extra layer of comfort in the outside weather. drawing nearer, his face gradually came into focus, revealing the cool, icy gaze that harmonized with his stoic demeanor. yet, behind the stoicism, a gentle smile graced his lips, radiating a tenderness that could not be concealed around you.

he let out a sigh as a cloudy mist escaped his soft lips. “hey baby,” miles whispered, his voice raspy almost as if he’s a bit tired as he moves closer and wraps an arm around your shoulders, holding you close.

“hola chuleto,” you replied back, enamored by how gorgeous he looked in pale sunlight. you put your hand on his cheek and felt his supple skin beneath your fingertips. “so, can i get a kiss from my boyfriend now?”

before he responded, you prepared to start leaning up to kiss him but miles had playfully straightened his back and added to the distance between you two. you looked up shooting him an annoyed glare as a smirk painted his featuress.

“ah, mami. y’know i can’t resist you,” miles mumbled against your ear as he leaned back close to you and let out a small laugh.

he leans down and kisses you, both of his hands resting softly on your hips. he let out a satisfied hum as his lips met the warmth of your mouth. the feeling was something of ecstasy. he had missed you so much all he wanted to do was just be near you. his hand moves down to your lower back, pressing you against him. miles pulled back with a hum as he looked down at you with soft eyes as you gazed up at him through your wispy lashes. he pulled you into a hug as you both slowly rocked back and forth in each other's embrace.

as the chilly mist continued to linger in the air, miles gently pulled away from your embrace, his concern evident in his eyes. "hey, we should probably go inside the apartment building before we catch a cold," he suggested, his voice carrying a note of practicality. his words were accompanied by a warm smile, a gesture that conveyed both consideration and a desire to keep you safe.

nodding in agreement, you intertwined your fingers with his as a silent affirmation. miles opened the door to the lobby and guided you to the staircase as you began your descent up to his floor.

your kisses always had a way of melting his demeanor away into something much gentler, if your friends ever saw him this way they would barely recognize him.

as you reached the landing, miles fumbled for his keys, his hand briefly brushing against yours, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down your spine. the door swung open, revealing the dimly lit and mostly empty apartment.

“you hungry? cus’ i cooked if you want anything,” he mentioned from behind you as he locked the door.

"cooked too, huh? and here you are always tryna act all hard," you giggled. "no, i’m good but thank you"

it always was amusing to you how miles acted so differently than how he actually felt but at the same time it gave you butterflies that he had made something with you in mind. he really did have a soft spot for you.

miles shot you an annoyed glare at your words. he never liked being called out, did he?

“i’m not hard or whatever,” he mumbled as he reached behind you, his large hands going around your waist to pull you close behind him before removing your jacket and putting it on the coat rack.

miles turned, catching sight of the amused expression on your face. his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, prompting him to take a step closer, deliberately lowering himself to meet your eye level.

“yeah, i cook,” miles stated, licking his lips. “so i don’t know why you’re giggling at me. a man can’t show off his skills once in a while?”

before you could let out another laugh, miles had grabbed you by the hand and dragged you into his room.

“c’mon, let’s relax and watch a movie or somethin,’” he suggested as you both made your way inside and kicked your shoes off.

miles settled onto his bed, reaching for his laptop and powering it on. as the soft, ethereal glow of the screen bathed his face in a light blue hue, he started looking for fall movies.

"and what movie might that be?" you asked, your expression tinged with curiosity and skepticism.

"i wanna watch a scary movie, but you're too scared so i'm letting you choose. just no more romcom nonsense." miles pleads as he pats the space beside him.

"whatchu mean romcom nonsense?" you repeated in a mockingly hurt tone. "i don't wanna hear that from somebody that said jason x was heat…”

"oh? so we gon bring that into this,” miles groans as he lays back onto the couch, pulling you down gently so you're laying on top of him.

you looked up at him with yet another raised brow as a small pout formed onto his playful lips. "jason x was heat, you're jus’ too much of a hater.”

“yeah i am a hater, but because i love you imma refrain from clowning you for that false statement,” you playfully teased, feeling miles grab your shoulder and lean back, creating a comfortable space for you to rest against his chest. he smirked, and you could tell he was enjoying the banter.

miles sighs, "alright alright, i guess jason x wasn't the greatest...”

he shifted slightly, propping himself up to lean over your body, his gaze fixed on you with gentle intent. with a tender touch, he reached for the blanket, enveloping both of you in its warmth as he carefully draped it over your bodies.

“jason x sucked,” you spat out as miles began to tuck the blanket into your sides.

miles reclined once more, his arm finding its place on your shoulder, drawing you even closer to him. the warmth of his touch sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

"you always smell good," he remarked, his voice laced with admiration, as he gave your waist a gentle squeeze. "is that the perfume i got you?"

a smile effortlessly spread across your lips at his question. the fact that he had noticed the fragrance you wore, especially since it was the dior one he had given you some time ago, filled you with a sense of excitement.

"could you really tell?" you asked, feeling a bit bashful.

he could sense the flustered effect his words had on you and responded with a sly smirk. as the remote made a satisfying click noise, miles finally selected a movie, capturing your attention. it was a satirical classic— a scary movie that promised both fright and laughter. "of course, i could tell," he quipped playfully, "the bag it came in made my room smell for weeks."

the sassy retort that was on the tip of your tongue dissolved into laughter, unable to resist the infectious humor he exuded. these were the things that made you appreciate his sarcasm even more, and more importantly, made you realize just how deeply you loved him.

miles smiled down at your laughing form, relishing in the pure joy that radiated from you. his fingers danced through your hair, a soothing gesture he often performed, as he loved these intimate moments you shared. planting a tender kiss on the crown of your head, he tightened his embrace, drawing you even closer as the movie commenced.

giggles escaped your lips as his hands continued to play with your hair, his gentle touch leaving a trail of butterfly kisses along your scalp. as the movie progressed, your positions shifted, with miles essentially becoming your cozy human blanket, his body nestled on top of yours.

with one hand lightly caressing his scalp, you both remained engrossed in the film. however, you couldn't help but notice the subtle heaviness in his eyes. between funny scenes, instead of laughing he would slowly blink, accompanied by silent chuckles that escaped his lips.

"tired?" you ask softly, noticing his drowsiness.

he responds with a gentle "mmhm" and a light snore, his grip on you tightening as he draws you closer. despite his fatigue, it's evident that he finds complete comfort and trust in your presence. as he starts to drift off, his breathing becomes more relaxed, and his hold on you gradually weakens, revealing his vulnerability. in this moment, there's no facade of stoicism or toughness, just the authentic him.

as the movie reaches its conclusion, the blooper reel snaps you back to reality. you reach for your phone in the corner, curious about the time. your heart sinks as the bright text on the screen reveals it's already 9:30.

"my mom is gonna kill me," you whisper under your breath, a hint of worry in your voice.

turning to your boyfriend, who is sound asleep in the crook of your neck, your senses come alive as each gentle breath of his tickles your skin.

"miles?" you call out, trying to rouse him from his nap, but there's no response.

cautiously, you place your hands on miles' shoulders and gently shake him, hoping to wake him up. but of course, he remains deep in his sleep, undisturbed by your sad attempts.

out of desperation you continue to try, shaking him a bit more, but it seems miles is completely lost in dreamland, his snores filling the room. he shifts slightly, but remains peacefully asleep, holding onto your neck and cuddling you tighter.

this turns out to be the worst possible scenario for you. the impending lecture from your mom, the potential attack with a lanky shoe, the grounding— everything seems likely to happen. miles shifts once again, clinging to you, and you can't help but feel both exasperated and affectionate in this bittersweet moment.

"miles, please..." you silently pleaded, but as you looked down at his serene face, a wave of tenderness and adoration washed over you. he looked so peaceful and irresistibly cute, and a part of you hesitated to disrupt his slumber.

a defeated huff escaped your lips as you surrendered to the sight before you. his bottom lip slightly tucked under his top lip, his eyelashes resting gracefully against his cheeks, and the faint smile that graced his face as he dozed off—all of it captivated your attention. it was an irresistible combination, making his features appear kissable and utterly adorable. the soft snores he emitted only added to the charm.

unable to resist any longer, your desires took over. cupping his face gently, you leaned down and pressed a tender kiss on his forehead. miles stirred slightly at the unexpected touch of your lips, but his response only made him look even more endearing as he leaned into your affection.

a smile played on your lips as you let go of any reserve, fluttering his face with multiple kisses. from his hairline to his cheek and jaw, your kisses were light and ethereal, filled with both gentleness and profound love for him. another kiss found its place on his nose, until the vibration of your phone interrupted the moment once again—your mom calling.

"damn, i really have to go," you muttered under your breath. summoning the courage, you slowly maneuvered miles off of you without disturbing his peace. gathering your belongings, you kneeled by his bed and pressed a gentle kiss on his scalp, one last show of affection before you run on home.

as you tried to move away, he unexpectedly grabbed your thigh, his grip leaving a faint imprint. with a laugh, you carefully pried his slender fingers off, savoring the sweet connection before leaving his side.

"goodnight, tonto," you whispered teasingly, ready to make your exit.

just as you were about to close the door, you heard miles mumble something under his breath.

"goodnight, ma."

he had been awake the entire time.

in an instant, it was as if you were hit with a flashback, remembering how you used to mock miles for his tough and stoic demeanor. was this his way of playfully getting back at you, by pretending to be a big baby?

"don't 'goodnight ma' me! you weren't even asleep this whole time?" you exclaimed, feeling a mix of surprise and embarrassment wash over you. the kisses you had showered him with while he was awake suddenly felt awkward.

"oh, come on, don't be embarrassed. i'm sure we both enjoyed it," miles chuckled, sitting up and leaning against the bed frame. "yeah, i was just messing with you a bit. it was funny."

"yeah, i bet it was real funny," you retorted, crossing your arms and standing defiantly in the doorway. "you always play too much."

miles let out a laugh, thoroughly amused by the small pout that formed on your lips. he rose from his comfortable position on the bed and approached you.

"aww, is la princesa mad at me?" miles teased, leaning down to your height, playfully taunting you.

"oh, can't you tell?" you shot back.

as miles sluggishly smiled, he couldn't help but say, "but you're so easy to mess with."

"being easy to mess with doesn't mean you should actually do it! i thought you were asleep for real," you commented, moving closer to him. "lo siento, pero i have to go home before my mom skins me alive or something."

miles mumbled, "didn't deny that you enjoyed it, though," clearly trying to push your buttons.

and it worked.

"miles!" you called out, your irritation evident in your voice.

"you're cute when you get all angry, you know that?" he continued to tease, his words meant to playfully provoke you.

as much as you wanted to maintain your anger, you couldn't help but let out a dry chuckle. you were still annoyed with him and his antics, but there was no denying the underlying affection he had that melted your heart.

he goes in for a hug, sighing softly as he kisses your cheek while embracing you. "alright, mami, go home before her anger starts to grow and she starts getting the chancla," he teases, but there's a hint of wistfulness in his expression as you prepare to leave.

you laugh at his joke. "don't manifest that for me!" you reply, worry in your voice as you slip on your sweater. miles walks you to the door, still holding onto your arm.

"no promises," miles jokes back. when you reach your front door, he keeps his grip on your arm and smiles. "i had a lot of fun today." he glances down briefly, his cheeks turning a shade of red.

"yeah, today was nice," you reply, returning his smile.

he doesn't say anything in response, instead emitting a soft hum. you turn to face him and smirk as you notice miles leaning in.

however, you interrupt his attempted kiss with a finger, playfully reminding him of his prank. "should i tho?"

"aww, come on, i'll make it up to you," he pouts, looking down. "please?" miles appears genuinely sad, and it becomes clear that you won't be able to keep up your annoyed facade for much longer.

frowning, you find yourself unable to resist any longer. you rise up on your tiptoes and cup his cheeks before leaning in for a kiss.

miles' eyes light up in surprise as you kiss him. after a moment, he kisses you back, and the kiss lingers on. eventually, miles breaks the kiss, his cheeks flushed and a smile on his face.

he looks at you, his expression hopeful. "are you not as mad at me now? did i make it up to you?"

"hmm, i'm not as mean as you, so i guess you're forgiven or whatever," you say, rolling your eyes playfully as you step outside, ready to start your journey home.

"so dramatic," miles chuckles, watching you walk away. however, he stops you at the door, a mischievous grin on his face. "hold up, did you see how red your face got?" he pokes your cheek and teases, "i didn't know you got that flustered." miles continues to poke your cheeks while smiling, clearly enjoying teasing you a little too much.

you give miles a deadpan look as he laughs at your reaction, not quite amused by his amusement.

miles kisses your cheek once more as you walk out, and calls out to you, "be safe and remember to text me when you get home!"

you hoped too that you’d be safe.

what awaited you at home, however, was pure hell. your mom sent you straight to your room after a heated argument that you wisely chose not to escalate. the interrogation that followed only added to your annoyance. you were definitely in trouble.

as you changed into your pajamas, you settled near your window and observed the serene scene outside. the orange and green hues of the falling leaves gracefully descended from the slender trees, landing softly into puddles. it was a tranquil moment, and you found solace in witnessing the slow descent of the fall beauty.

suddenly, a notification from your phone interrupts the peaceful atmosphere. it's from miles.

mi novio : i miss you already mami…

with a sense of contentment, you let out a loud giggle and swiftly reached for your phone to respond to miles. despite the trouble you’re now in with your mom, at this moment, it feels like a small price to pay for spending time with your boyfriend.

art from crittlyworm on tiktok

DO NOT STEAL, COPY, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK. ALL WRITING IS @PRIMAVIVA.

[ravcnism]

STRIKEOUT. ( PART 2 ) — KEN SATO x Male!Athlete READER

Summary: An after-party. A conversation-turned-confrontation. Kenji finally meets the esteemed Toyo Bullet and struggles to define the difference between anger, terror, and infatuation.

# # TAGS: Even More Tension, Kenji Has a Good Relationship with His Team, Intense First Encounter, Domestic Sato Family Shenanigans

# # WARNINGS: Mature Language, Alcohol Consumption, Nothing Too Crazy, No Beta Again We Die Like Onda

Note: Okay, here we go: the actual second part. Again, I am so sorry for accidentally publishing my draft earlier — I am ill with embarrassment. But I’m very happy to know that people look forward to it! If you read the false-post, then you’ve only read half of the chapter. This one has over 3000 words more! Enjoy.

“It was a nail-biter of a game here at the New Tokyo stadium tonight, folks. Right off the bat, both teams were going neck and neck, toe-to-toe. And it seemed like neither one was willing to give an inch! Our home team managed to pull off a narrow victory in the end, and by narrow, I mean narrow, Kiba.”

“That is absolutely right, Sasaki. I truly have never seen anything like it in my entire career. And you know- you know I know a lot of baseball. You know I’ve been doing this for many years, but wow! Just- insane.”

“Truly a close call. Eight additional innings? To break the tie? I cannot believe it. Let me tell you, neither the Hiroshima Toyo Carp nor the Yomiuri Giants wanted to lose today.”

“If you look at the crowd, It looks like everyone’s been wanting to go home.”

Exhausted was an understatement. Kenji hadn’t felt this drained after a game since, well, only months ago: when he was still juggling the responsibilities of raising a baby Kaiju, carrying the weight of being Ultraman, and maintaining his reputation as a well-known baseball player. All of these, on top of the sleepless nights, no longer hindered him from his work. He usually left the stadium feeling brand new every single time — regardless of whether they won or lost. He had grown and learned to lean on people, to ask for help, accept defeat. Which was good and all that, but the point was: he was exhausted from this game. You had him panting for air like an overworked dog.

Shimura had Kenji on the field for longer than he should have been. While his younger, more egotistical self might have loved his moment in the spotlight, running base to base for six innings in a row was unsurprisingly really tiring. The teams had hit a clean tie by the ninth inning, and the tie-breaker lasted for eight more. You were eating their rookies alive and having their journeymen for dessert. When Shimura realized that Sato was the only one batting your pitches, he had him play for every round after the tie. The only times Kenji wasn’t on the field was when you weren’t either. Which wasn’t a lot. It scared him how you looked like you could throw that ball for days.

“Hiroshima’s L/n is just- an absolute unit, isn’t he?”

“He certainly is, Kiba. He certainly is. I mean his performance was near inhuman tonight. Each pitch was a gem and we- he really wanted us to know that he’s here, he’s ready, and he’s willing to change Japanese baseball. He was a major force out there on the field.”

“I cannot agree with you more. But credit where credit is due, we all know that the only reason the Giants are coming home with tonight’s win is because of none other than Ken Sato himself.”

“That’s right, Sato really put up a fight. L/n was throwing him off balance every time, but he always found his footing. I think tonight might have been the hardest I’ve seen him work. You know he- he usually makes his plays look effortless — disregarding last season’s slump.”

“I say he held his own very, very impressively. The team was right to rely on him. I know we’ve spoken a lot about their tension, but I’d say it’s their dynamic that really drove the point home. They were like- mirrors of each other out there. When you put two equal forces together, they deflect. You know what I’m saying?”

Kenji’s hand shook with a weakness he wasn’t familiar with. He stared at his calloused palm and noticed his fingers twitching. Shit. It really was some game. He might have been hitting the ball, but he was barely getting it through the field. Not only were your pitches fast, but there was weight to them, too. He was witnessing the caliber of your capabilities; understanding why you were the talk of every city.

The rest of the Giants came walking into the locker room, jeering and laughing amongst themselves. “That L/n is a real piece of work, ain't he?” Shirakumo, number 24, sat himself next to Kenji, unlacing his shoe. “Never seen anything like it.”

“Did you see the look on Tateoka’s face?” Yuki laughed, smacking his thigh. “Dude was scared shitless!”

“Hey!” Tateoka frowned in reply, tugging his jersey off his arms. “You try standing in front of that guy and telling me you don't feel a little threatened.” He shuddered, remembering the look in your eyes. Dark and pointed and menacing. “He was staring me down like he was gonna—”

“Eat you alive?” Kenji scoffed.

The team went silent, then erupted into a cluster of teasing ‘oooh’s. God. It reminded him of highschool.

“Oohh, yeah.” Yamada, number 21, slid over to him with a teasing tone. He wrapped an arm around Kenji’s shoulder and squeezed him closer. “I don't think I've ever seen Sato so shaken!”

He laughed, playfully pushing him away. He was also actually really sore on that shoulder. Hell, he could already feel the pain he’d need to go through just to get up tomorrow. He was going to need another ice bath. The rest of the boys jumped in on the jokes.

“Did you see the way he was looking at you Ken?” Tokuda opened his locker, grabbing a shirt from the top shelf. He whistled. “Like he wanted your head on a plate.”

Tanaka chuckled. “He wanted you dead, man!”

Kenji rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. Let's not get carried away. I never said I was shaken.”

“But that last bat was sweet as hell.” Yuki nodded. “I doubt any of us would've gotten through the guy if it weren't for Sato.”

“Well, duh.” Shirakumo shrugged. None of the Giants denied it. Ken was their star player. And tonight proved it more than ever. “We owe you for drinks, bud. Give us a date and we'll treat ya’ to someplace you like.” He slapped Ken’s back affectionately, which elicited a pained groan. “Shit, sorry.”

Kenji’s watch started beeping. He flinched at the sound, eyes widening slightly. “Uh, see you in a sec, guys. I gotta take this.”

He was there a moment, then gone the next. Kenji rushed himself out the hallways and into an empty locker room to answer Mina’s call. “Hey!” he greeted, anxiously. A screen projected itself from his watch and lit up his face. “Hey. Hi. What's wrong? Everyone alright? I know I said I'd be home soon, but the game took way longer than–”

He was interrupted by cheering. His father clapped and whooped with excitement as Emi occupied the background, screeching with glee. Kenji could see the ground shaking as she was jumping around and doing her special dance. One of Mina’s arms was protruding from the wall and waving celebratory flags. It immediately put a smile on his face, easing the tension from his shoulders. He was always happy to see everyone alright, and even happier to see them as their silly selves.

“Kenji!” cheered Hayao. “That was an incredible game! You were unstoppable!” The professor chuckled. Emi picked him up into a hug, slightly toppling the camera over. His legs swung like a ragdoll’s. “Okay, okay girl-”

Ken laughed, slightly shaking his head. “Easy, Emi. Put Grandpa down.”

“It was a very impressive game, Ken. Perhaps one of your bests.” Mina’s calculative yet affectionate voice echoed from his watch.

Hayao fell to the floor with an ‘oof’. “You didn't tell me you were playing against THEE Mets’ Bullet!” He scrambled to stand up, barely leaning on his cane. “I wasn’t even aware that he was signed into the Carp!”

Kenji’s smile immediately faded. “Okay.” He rolled his eyes. “He was alright, I guess. And we don’t actually know if he signed into it or if he was traded. We barely heard anything about him from the press.”

“Alright?” Professor Sato gasped, appalled. “Kenji, he was spectacular! He’s a lot like you, you know. I’ve always suspected that the both of you equalled in skill, but to see it in action? Phew.” He wiped some pretend sweat off of his forehead. “What a show! Eight extra innings to break a tie? Unbelievable! I highly doubt that he was traded. Who in their right mind would purposely lose a player like that?”

Kenji scoffed. “He wasn’t that good.” His sore limbs would like to say otherwise.

“He had you chasing after his pitches like a dog!”

“I don’t like that analogy.”

“I ought’ to rewatch that documentary they made about him. You know they’ve done studies on the physics of his throws.”

“Dad.”

“And how fortunate for Hiroshima to have gotten him out of all teams! I can tell that this season is going to turn around really fast. Just today he’s already scored-”

“Dad!”

“Oh. Sorry.” Hayao chuckled. “I’m just very excited to see the both of you on the same field.” Kenji sighed, nodding his head. “Anyway, congratulations on the win, my boy. I’m so proud of you. I always am. Get home safe. It may be late, but we still have a lot of leftovers from dinner!” Emi made a noise that let him know she was waiting, too.

Going home sounded like heaven. Ken wanted nothing more but to rest. Maybe kick back and have a chocolate shake while he and his family watched cartoons to fall asleep. It was the perfect way to end his night. It had been an unexpectedly long day and he looked forward to tomorrow’s well-earned break. Eight extra innings might even win him a second day of rest. Or a third, if Shimura agreed not to schedule him for the next game. Which, he doubted, if it meant you’d be playing.

“I’m on my way.” He ended the call, and opted to take the fastest way out, desperate to avoid the press.

Ken collapsed onto the floor, snuggling into Emi’s arm. Having washed up and eaten his dinner, he felt the last remains of his adrenaline-fueled strength die out like a dwindling flame. He felt as if his limbs were about to fall off. “Ugh,” he groaned. “I’m going to be so sore tomorrow.” Emi didn’t much care. She seemed to be preoccupied by the new ( gigantic ) stacking blocks that Mina made for her. Ken sighed, sinking deeper into her arm. “She always smells so good after her baths.” The baby Kaiju’s warm and heavy grasp felt like a weighted blanket. It was a comfort that Ken would find nowhere else.

Professor Sato walked past them, chuckling into his coffee mug. “That, she does. You should have seen her earlier, you know. I’ve never seen her so invested in a game.”

Kenji hummed. “Is that right?” He rolled onto his stomach, facing Emi. “Hey. Baby.” He poked her cheek. “Is that true? Did you cheer for Daddy? I bet you did.” Giving into his cuteness aggression he rubbed at her cheeks. Emi expressed her annoyance through a small squeak. “God, that mean old Bullet had Daddy running laps, didn’t he? We hate him, don’t we?” Kenji pushed her cheeks up and down, leading her into a nod. “Yes we dooo.”

Professor Sato laughed. “Whatever happened to sportsmanship?”

“Whatever happened to loyalty?” He pouted. “My own father, rooting against me. I would never root against you, Emi.” Wanting to return to her blocks, Emi lifted Kenji up by his torso and placed him on her head. The batter laughed, laying on her with no protest.

“What!” The professor exclaimed. “I never said I was rooting against you. I was just— feeling enthusiastic, that’s all. For both teams.”

Mina entered the room, her mechanisms humming faintly. “Good evening, everyone.” The Sato’s greeted her accordingly. “I have a message for Ken.”

The mentioned Ken slumped into his daughter, rolling his eyes. “Here we go. I bet it’s the press.” He scoffed. “Let me guess, at least 30 emails asking for my statement. Or, better yet, it’s Shimura warning me not to miss the next game.” He raised his fist, mocking a reporter’s tone: “We’ve witnessed baseball history tonight, folks! Blah, blah, blah.”

“Actually, it’s an invitation for something else.” Mina hovered closer. “An event.”

This caught his attention. Kenji tilted his head. “For what?”

“A party, hosted by various sponsors.”

“Bit too early for an afterparty, don’t you think?” Ken sighed, resting his head on folded arms. “We’ve only won one game.”

“I suppose it’s to celebrate Mr. L/n as well.” Mina would shrug if she had the shoulders to do so. “His coming to Japan is quite a big deal.”

“Great.” Kenji was half-asleep by then, eyes already closed. “All the more reason for me not to go.” The professor had settled himself onto one of the desks, getting into some light reading. Emi had grown tired herself, and decided that she was not interested in the blocks anymore. Waddling to her spot, (with Kenji still on her head), she yawned, and opted for some much-needed sleep.

Mina’s light blinked. “I think you should go, Ken.”

The rightfielder cracked one eye open. “And why would I do that?”

“I think it would benefit you to interact with Mr. L/n more.”

“Mina, that’s literally the last thing I want.”

“Is it?”

Ken frowned. “What do you mean, ‘is it’? Of course it is.”

“Your vitals seemed to say otherwise earlier.”

Kenji scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I was keeping careful watch of your vitals, as I always do. I have your daily status tracked and recorded.”

Kenji couldn't get rid of Mina’s voice in his head. Even amidst the warm crowd, with chatter swaying smoothly atop of light r&b music, he felt as if he could still hear her words ringing in the back of his mind. It remained vivid, though she had told it to him days ago. It was as clear as day. Like a broken record.

“Believe it or not, the heart beats differently for every emotion. There is a difference between fear, anxiety, excitement, and—”

Kenji stared at you from across the room, watching as you conversed with your team, nursing a glass of cold, hard whiskey. He watched as you bowed your head and smiled, listening for the faint, muffled sound of your laughter. He wondered what you were talking about; what joke might have made you grin that hard. He wondered why you seemed to illuminate a room, and why everyone seemed so drawn. His eyes were caught in the way the colorful lights sank into your hair.

“—Infatuation.”

You looked up, and your eyes met his. Kenji flinched. He felt his heart skip a beat. Shit, he thought. Mina was definitely going to catch that. She had probably already marked it down to tease him for it later. You held his gaze for longer than he could have standed and greeted him with that same annoying wink. The same one you gave him on the field. Confident, snarky, playful. You lifted your glass and took a sip, eyes still trained on his.

“What you may perceive as frustration for him might just be the opposite.”

Kenji's jaw clenched. Mina had no idea what she was talking about.

And he would prove her wrong tonight.

Like a soldier marching into battle, he waded through the party to make his way towards you. Was he intimidated? Yes. Unfortunately, he was. But he knew his way around a crowd, and his weapon-of-a-tongue knew all the right talk to make a conversation work. He was sociable like that. He was a poet, a wordsmith. If you weren't careful, one little exchange could have you wrapped around his finger. Some people called it his charisma, some blamed it on his irresistible good looks. Either way, Ken took it. He wasn't going to deny the fact that people loved talking to him — though he, admittedly, didn't really like talking to them in return. But he could do it. He could make it work.

Besides, how bad could you be?

With a newfound confidence, Ken dared to get closer. The distance between you and him lessened, and– oh, fuck, was that your cologne? He blinked. You smelled so good. Why did you smell so good? “Hey. Hi.” Shit. Abort mission. No, it's too late. Too awkward to back out. You were already looking at him. “L/n, yeah?” He spoke your name like he only just remembered you upon seeing you. When in truth, he hadn't stopped thinking about you since that damn first pitch. “Some game, huh?” Ken held his hand out for you to shake. ‘Fuck, I hope he doesn't notice how clammy it is.’

“Ken Sato.” It was the first time he heard your voice, as well as the first time he heard you say his name. He didn't like how his body reacted. There was a small shiver down his spine, a tingling flutter in his chest. You took his hand. Yours was cold. So cold. Kenji concluded that the icy glass of whiskey you had placed on the counter was to blame. He could feel your callouses against his. Your hands mirrored one another, marked with the battlescars of your sport. He was oddly sensitive to every detail. Touching you was.. a sensation.

You gave him a firm shake before promptly letting go.

“That's me,” he said, miraculously. Ken was oscillating between panic and confidence at a speed that likely wasn't normal. He was holding his own, though. Like the real champ he was. It was surreal to be standing in front of you without a ball to keep you apart. No bat, no competition. Just you, and a few shots of alcohol. “You adjusting into Japan alright?”

“As well as I can.” You shrugged. You had a tone to you; an elegant air of grace and self-assurance. You had no need to raise your voice because you knew he'd do his best to listen. It was pissing him off. “It's definitely different from the States.”

“I gotta say, I'm pretty surprised to see you here.” Ken usually knew what to say when it came to conversations. He never blanked out at interviews, nor left dead air hanging at conferences. But speaking with you made him feel like his vocabulary was on a limit. “After a game like that?” He whistled. “A lesser man would've taken a week off.”

“But we're not lesser men, are we, Ken?” A waitress passed by. Without the need to look, you had grabbed two shots of vodka from her tray. You handed the other one to him. “That's why you're here, too.”

He stared at you, brows furrowed slightly. “Exactly.” He took the shot from your hand and bumped the rim against yours. “Cheers.”

You grinned. “Cheers.”

Kenji tilted his head back, downing his drink, tasting the fire run down his throat. His face screwed up a little, but not enough for you to notice. You did the same, sighing the heat out of your nose. You allowed a small laugh to slip past your lips. “Japan’s liquor is surprisingly stronger.”

Kenji chuckled. “Yeah. If you know where to look.” The music felt like it was growing louder. He leaned in to speak to you better. “You know, I can't believe this is the first time we're meeting.”

You nodded. “Neither can I.”

“The Mets and Dodgers have always been at each other's throats, and yet—”

“Our schedules just never lined up.” You scoffed. “What are the odds of that, huh?”

It really was such a coincidence. If Ken had known that your interactions would've fired the press up as much as it did now, he would've fought to face you sooner. “When was it?” He snapped his fingers, trying to remember. “Playoffs. 2019, I think. The Mets were set to face the Dodgers.”

“2019,” you repeated, brows raised. “I was there.” Kenji took notice of the way your head slightly shifted to the side. Like you were trying to get a better look at him. He swallowed thickly. “I was there.” You shrugged. “You weren't.”

“I was overseas.” He was wanting another drink. But, speaking to you was surprisingly not horrible. “Didn't get back until 3 months in. And when I did—”

“I wasn't there,” you chuckled. “Alright. I remember. 2019, I was gone for half the season. Injury.”

“The world was in shambles.” Ken grinned at you. A second waiter passed by. He grabbed you another glass of whiskey. He took scotch for himself. “See what I mean? It's like– divine intervention.”

“Big word.” To say that fate had a hand to play in yours and his meeting was beyond your beliefs. You didn't place your trust in things like that. But to know that he had thought about it was charming.

“Hey.” Ken shrugged. “Ya’ never know.”

The music shifted, and so did the lights. There was a moment of quiet between the both of you, and in that time, you found a common interest in people-watching. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, nor the absence of something to talk about. The two of you merely agreed upon the minutes it took to watch the party unfold. A good number of the guests were already drunk. The dance floor was alight and occupied mostly by women. Ken rested his weight on one foot, sighing at his still-aching muscles. He wondered if you were any sore too.

“They love it, don't they?” You leaned your back against the counter, arms crossed over your chest. Ken took quick notice of the necklace worn loosely around your neck. A silver dogtag, similar to his. “The drama. The intensity. Even the things that go on beyond the field.”

Ken shrugged. “It's baseball. Who doesn't?”

“Exactly.” You smiled. “Which is why it's important to always let the home team win the first game.”

It took a moment for Kenji to process what you said. He was distracted by the colorful lights, his favorite song coming on, and a tray full of hors d'oeuvres. “Mhm.” He reached over to take one, before— “Wait.” His brows knitted together. “I'm sorry, what?”

“Hm?” You had your lips pressed together into a thin line. Your expression feigned innocence, a stark contrast to your bold statement. “I said it's important to let the home team win the first game.”

Kenji made a sound between a scoff and a laugh. He couldn't believe his ears. Had he been standing by the speakers for too long? “No, I heard what you said. What I'm asking is what you're saying.” It was a dare of a reply, with a tone that commanded: go on. Clarify.

Your smile refused to leave your face. Nearing the batter, ever so carefully, you whispered:

“I'm saying you won because I let you.”

Kenji blinked.

And there it was. He knew you were too good to be true. Goddammit, he knew it! Beneath your seemingly-perfect self was something cold and rotten and he called it. He fucking called it. How thrilled he was to be correct, and oh, how utterly terrified.

But this was good. This was absolutely good. He needed something to hold onto, something to keep himself afloat. The next time he found himself drowning in your eyes again, he'd only need to remember that you were a grade A asshole. That you had the audacity to claim that you were in full control of the game. Surely it would solve all his problems.

Kenji broke out into a laugh. It started out as a small cluster of sarcastic chuckles, but erupted into actual laughter. You were funny. So, so funny. Unbeknownst him, you were watching with amusement. “Because you let me!” Kenji repeated, smiling, but, exasperated. Two can play at that game. “Right. Of course. Totally not because you're an average pitcher and I can bat anything you throw.”

“If that helps you sleep at night.” You shrugged. Your attention wasn't on him anymore. You were watching the crowd, disinterested.

Kenji felt his eye twitch. “That's big talk coming from someone who got struck out by a rookie.” He was referring to the eighth inning, when Tateoka managed to bat your pitch into a homerun.

“That's right, Sato.” You laughed, low and sultry. “Batted by a rookie. How could I have struck you out at the last inning but be batted by a rookie?” You tilted your head at him, brows knitted together. You spoke in a sickeningly soft tone. Like you were helping a toddler understand something simple. “Doesn't seem to make a lot of sense, does it?”

Kenji was growing flustered. His face was warm and his fist was itching to meet your cheek. Nobody spoke to him this way. Sure guys had been mean to him before, but it was mostly because they were threatened by him. They'd tried to put him down and pick apart his flaws, but what you were doing was something different. You weren't claiming that he was weak, you were claiming that you were stronger. You didn't deny the amount of talent that Ken had in his body, but you were fully convinced that you had more. You were bigger, smarter, and better. And you had him under your control.

“Oh, c’mon. Seriously?” God, your voice. It infuriated him. It drove him insane. You leaned in, closer, whispering your words, as if hearing you through the party wasn't hard enough. He could smell the whiskey on your breath. It mingled with your cologne. It was intoxicating. “Are you blushing?”

He scoffed in disbelief. “No.” Except he totally was. He could feel the heat radiating off of his face. His breathing had gone shallow, his heartbeat rapid. “Why would I– Tch. You— You don't know what you're talking about.” Holy shit. He was a mess.

He wanted so desperately to blame it on the alcohol, but he knew damn well he wasn't drunk enough to be acting the way he was. He was stumbling over his words stone-cold sober.

You were smiling. He was dying, and you were smiling. “You amuse me, Sato.”

Ken took a cautious step back, knowing that being that close to you for too long was only going to make him worse. “Who the hell do you think you are, huh?” He had to retaliate somehow. Like a soldier fumbling for his sword, he had to get up and do something. “You don't think I don't know what this is? Where you're heading?”

You tilted your head. “Do enlighten me.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Sure. Celebrity-Athlete from America waltzes into Japan thinking he's the shit— that he can rule the world. He's a shiny new toy and everyone's just dying to catch a look. Nevermind that his old team traded him off, nevermind that he goes home to an empty penthouse. He's got the stats to prove his skills and he thinks he doesn't need anything else.” Ken dared to retake a step forward. He sort of regretted it when you didn't take a step back. “Well, guess what,” he continued. “I've been where you are. I know how you feel, what you're thinking.

Everything you're trying to be is a shadow of what I already was.”

There was a beat of silence. You weren't smiling anymore. You were staring at him, stone-faced, seemingly indifferent.

Kenji narrowed his eyes. “So don't go talking to me like you're any better.”

He didn't know what to expect. You were quiet for such a long time that he thought you were going to snap. He partially expected a punch to the chin. But you were calm. There wasn't a trace of irritation on your face. Instead, you set your glass of whiskey — now empty — on the counter behind you. With a sigh, you shoved a hand in your pocket. “Are you done?”

Kenji blinked.

“Let me tell you something, Sato.” You raised a brow at him. Ken felt his heartbeat pick up again. Your once-approachable gaze shifted into something cold and commanding. He swallowed thickly. “There is a difference between you and me. And that difference is the fact that I don't settle.”

Kenji was glaring at you, brows fixed together.

A teammate called you from the other side of the room. You nodded at him, once, then returned your focus to the Yomiuri Prince. You placed a hand on his shoulder, tauntingly, smiling at him as if you'd known him your whole life. “I hope last season’s slump accustomed you to the feeling of losing those points.”

Kenji wanted to say something, but his lips refused to move. Somehow, the blaring music in the background had faded into a muffled blur. All he could hear was your voice. Like a moth to a flame.

You winked at him. Again. And like before, his body reacted in ways he didn't like. You squeezed his shoulder once, before leaving to go to your friend. With your back turned against him, Kenji released the breath he didn't realize he was holding. He clutched his chest, watching wide-eyed as you moved through the crowd. He could still smell your cologne. The last thing he heard from you was,

“I'll see you on the field.”

taglist: @fairy-lenaa @moonjellyfishie @witchygod — Thank you for your patience!

[garpen]

*Live Dick Reaction*

I’m genuinely in love with this series, couldn’t help but make fan art for the woman ever </3

(I imagine that Cass is gathering more “blackmail”)

No because you actually don't understand how much I fucking love this!!! By the gods??? Fucking phenomenal, beautiful, fantastic, amazing, there's not enough words in the English language to express how much I love this so:

Esto está hermoso, increíble, perfecto. Mis ojos han sido bendecidos, eres un ángel caído del cielo para regalarme esta joya! Te daría un beso ahorita (en buena onda) si no siguiera enfermo.

Sorry if you don't speak Spanish, but English just could not express how happy this made me to see. Could I pretty pretty pretty please use this in my au 🥺 If not, it's totally okay you can say no, I would get it. Either way I literally love you and this so much ughh

You've graced my eyes with your creation and generosity. May the muses guide you, and ensure your artistic mind never fails you.

[buntobeans]

spilled ice cream is a great wingman - venture x brother’s best friend reader

Nsfw utc. this is FILTHY FILTHY!!!!

Thanx venture’s burrow for this image..

amab sloan 

afab reader but is referred to with gender neutral terms (or at least as gender neutral as spanish gets)

you guys are both adults, just to clear up if anything seems uncomfy! i envision Sloan to be around 23 and you’re 21 :))

this is FILTH

like DESCRIBED FILTH!

wrote this on a plane sorry if it’s delulu or uncomfy or grossly described. I think I’m also sick.. also barely edited SORRRYYY also there’s like a severe lack of lube here sad face wahhh wahh ouchie 

More italics needed but.. WOMP WOMP!!!!!

i spent way too much time on this

i’ve taken like two classes of Spanish but hoopefully I’ve got it right.. I used the masculine form for some words because I wasn’t sure if I should just make a female reader but— hey anyone can read, regardless of their bits n bobs— let the punana in your heart be your guide <3

OK NOTES OVER!! LOVE YOU E-KITTENS!!!! IM GOING HOMEEEE AND SEEING MY DOG!!!

-

How the hell did you get here? 

Your thighs twitched as you struggled to clamp them shut, but the assured little hushes of Sloan’s voice and their large fingers prying your legs apart strayed you away from doing so. 

You opened your mouth and closed it, akin to a fish out of water. Forgetting what you were going to say, your words died on your tongue, shifting into small little whimpers as Sloan rolled their thumb over your swollen clit. 

“Doing so good, cariño.” They murmured, tenderly kissing your earlobe. “Mierda. Always dreamed of seein’ you like this.”

-

“Sloan!” You bounded up to your brother’s best friend as they plopped down the couch of your living room. 

“Hey!” They gave you that gorgeous, million dollar grin with their chipped tooth that you’d grown to find so attractive. Sloan instinctually opened their arms for you to leap into, giving you a small affectionate hug. “¿Qué onda? How’s it hangin’?”

“It’s good!” You cheerily piped. Your brother groaned at the sight of you unceremoniously interrupting his time with his best friend, but you ignored it— perhaps you stuck out a tongue at him and gave him a little side eye, but in Sloan’s eyes, you weren’t doing anything wrong! They’d defend you!

Your brother’s best friend. Sloan Cameron. The two had been friends for a while, so it was common for them to come over to your house to chill with your brother. Naturally, you found yourself acquainted with them, popping in to occasionally annoy your brother or include yourself in their conversations. While your brother was most irked by it, Sloan didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, instead treating you like a little sibling, often fondly smiling at you and ruffling your hair. 

Oh, how you longed for those eyes to gaze at you with a different kind of affection. 

You had the biggest crush on your brother’s best friend. You couldn’t help it— Sloan was so darn attractive with their messy brown hair and skin decorated in the occasional freckle, large frame walking around your house in shirts with the sleeves sloppily cut off, highlighting their muscle, and baggy cargo pants. You soaked up all the attention they’d give you like a sponge, eagerly awaiting them to come over to your house and hang out with your brother so you could brush your fingers with their larger ones while handing them snacks under the guise of showing them hospitality. 

But they never seemed to notice. So you kept your pining for sweet Sloan a secret, tucked away in the corners of your heart for your silly little crush to never come to fruition. 

“I’m going to the store to get some beer,” your brother announced, grabbing his keys and slipping on his shoes. “Need anything?”

“Hook me up with some ice cream!” Sloan yelled as your brother opened the door. 

Your brother left the house and it was eerily quiet, Sloan and you being the only presences in the home. You pulled yourself out of Sloan’s arms, suddenly flustered by the proximity— but, of course, missing their warmth. 

“We have ice cream. I bought some recently.” You piped up, hopping off the couch to skitter to the kitchen. 

Over your dead body would you admit you’d bought the ice cream with Sloan in mind. 

“Ooh, sweet! Haha. Pun intended. What flavor?” Sloan asked, eyeing you as you opened the freezer. They let out a little breath as they watched you bend over to find the sweet treat.

“Vanilla.” You answered, taking out the tub of ice cream, opening it, and sticking a spoon in it. It wasn’t like you’d documented Sloan’s favorite flavor in the archives of your mind… not at all. 

You eagerly took the tub and ran over to Sloan on the couch.

“It might be a little bit melted because it sat out but—“

You let out a yelp as you stumbled, the ice cream going flying. Panic set in as you realized you were falling. 

“Whoa, whoa! Hey there.” Sloan’s arms wrapped around you.

You swore all the oxygen left your body. Their arms were so big, so warm— you gulped, not daring to meet their eyes in fear of the chipped shit-eating grin they might be wearing on their stupidly gorgeous face. 

What you did look at, however, was their shirt. 

A mess of ice cream coated their body, and you internally screamed. 

Mortified, your heart dropped. “Oh my gosh, I’m so so sorry— I didn’t mean to drop it at all oh no no—“ Hot tears of frustration pooled in your eyes as your lips tugged into a frown. 

“Hey, hey!” Their voice cut you out of your rant and meltdown-in-progress. “It’s okay. Everything’s fine. It’s just a little ice cream.”

That was a TOTAL lie. They were practically drenched in vanilla. 

You wailed in embarrassment. 

“Ay, está bien. Don’t worry! I can just take it off.”

You gulped. You punched yourself in your mind for the lewd thoughts running rampant in your brain, searching for anything to distract yourself with, anything to reply with—

“Y-Yeah?” Fuck. You stuttered. “If you give it to me I can wash it—“

Stupid! Stupid! You were totally feeding into this! Thoughts of Sloan shirtless attacked your mind, and suddenly the room was way hotter than you’d recalled a minute ago. 

Sloan chuckled and your soul left your body as you watched them peel their shirt off, showcasing their toned body. They made a show of it, too, confidently lifting their shirt off their body. Holy fuck. Their body was no joke. Accompanied with a bit of chub, they proudly displayed a set of prominent abs. Tattoos of runes, sigils, and ancient gibberish you couldn’t understand (or maybe your head was too clouded to read) were scattered across their body. Their bellybutton had a little piercing and a line of hair trailed down their chest to a place you quickly looked away from before your eyes could meet. 

“Like what you see?” They chuckled. You cursed yourself internally. You were practically drooling over them! 

“No— I mean yes— I mean—“ You were so close to slamming your head against the wall. 

They handed you their shirt and you shakily took it, nervously clutching it like a lifeline to ground you to your surroundings. Thank GOD you were washing it, because you were practically sweating buckets into the fabric from your clammy hands. 

“So..? You gonna get off my lap, or..?”

Oh, just kill me already, you thought. Bury me alive and don’t let anybody see my body. Especially my brother. He’d probably laugh his ass off. 

You mustered the courage to stare at Sloan. They were so close to you, almost brushing their nose with you and—

Oh. 

“There’s something.. poking me..?”

It was Sloan’s turn to be flustered. Heat rose to their cheeks as they gazed down, met with their little “problem”. 

“Dios mio,” they gasped. “Don’t pay any attention to that. Lo siento, I am sooo soo sorry—“

You gulped. Was this really happening? No, but— what the hell? Had Sloan really gotten turned on from you sitting in their lap?

Gods. And they were big. Their hardness pressing against you— it wasn’t a joke. You struggled to pick up the pieces of your mind as thoughts flitted about— what would it feel like— what would it be like inside you—

“..Do you need help with that?” You squeaked out before you could even register the words in your mind. 

Oh, you’ve really done it now. 

Sloan stared at you with wide eyes, cheeks heated. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sor—“

“You mean that?”

Your hands unconsciously curled further into their shirt. You wanted so desperately for a distraction, to leave this awkward situation, but a tinge of hope and an indescribable pull left you staring helplessly into their eyes. 

You nodded. A small nod, but a nod nonetheless. 

“…You don’t want this.” Sloan laughed nervously. So you weren’t the only horribly mortified one here. It was almost relieving. Almost. “Do you..?”

Fuck it. 

“..I like you. I want this with you. I always have. I mean, I want not just this.. I want you as a whole, I want Sloan Cameron—“ You squeezed your eyes shut as you spoke, too afraid to see their expression. Every moment they didn’t respond to you felt like a century. Your heart dropped with each passing second, wholly terrified of their response. 

“..Que lindo..” They softly murmured. Their hand reached under your shirt to gently stroke your hip with their thumb, and you shuddered at the sensation. Their hand was big. And warm. You’d spent too much time staring at it, wondering how it would truly feel against you. 

“I’ve always thought you were cute.” They finally said. You opened an eye to peek at them. They were looking away, expression unreadable. “Your excited little smile.. the way you always greet me whenever I come here..” They chuckled anxiously. “Heck, it’d be a lie to say I just come here to hang out with your brother.” They were flustered. You could see it. It was your first time seeing this expression on Sloan, but you prayed to whatever deity that existed that it wouldn’t be the last. You held your breath, hanging onto their every word. “Why do you think I choose your house to hang out with him..? I like.. seeing you.. ah,

demonios, I can’t do this at all..”

Their shirt dropped from your grasp and onto the couch as you stared at them, agape. Were you dreaming?

“So.. are you gonna get off my lap, or are we gonna.. canoodle? Ah, that was stupid of me.. idiot Sloan.. who even says canoodle..” You laughed with a mix of bewilderment and adoration as Sloan spoke, wiggling their eyebrows at you. 

Before you knew it, you were kissing them. Kissing them like there was no tomorrow. Savoring their lips. Like this would be the last time you’d ever experience their lips at all. Oh, but you knew it wouldn’t be. You knew you’d have so many more moments like this with them. 

Sloan’s hands roamed aimlessly over your body, slipping under your shirt. You let out a soft whimper at the sensation, noting the way goosebumps appeared on Sloan’s skin at the sound and the way they were touching you got more possessive; the way they were touching you got greedier. 

“Sloan.” A kiss. “My room is much—“ Another one, this time they missed, landing their lips on the corner of yours. “—Comfier than this—“ You threw your head back like a drowning person gasping for air. 

Sloan’s brain was too fuzzy to fully comprehend your words, but they seemed to understand the notion, hoisting you up in their arms by your thighs. You let out a yelp at the sudden sensation of being lifted off the ground. Their discarded shirt covered in ice cream that was probably melted by now (with the help of your ever-growing body heat) was long forgotten on the couch as Sloan mapped a course to your room, their lips never leaving your face. 

“Abre la boca.” They ordered. You looked up at them, dazed eyes confused by the sudden Spanish. “Ah.. I mean, open your mouth.” You obediently complied, allowing them to greedily shove their tongue into your mouth. You surely would’ve fallen if it weren’t for their big arms keeping you up. 

Their energetic tongue seemed to have a will of its own, messily dancing with yours, rolling over your teeth and mixing their saliva with yours. It was like they were trying to explore every inch of your mouth, charting all the places that had never been reached by anyone else. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced— if there was one thing you knew for sure tonight, it was that Sloan Cameron’s tongue game was insane. 

You only understood you were in your room when the sheets hit your back, Sloan atop of you. Their kissing never ceased; your mouth was starting to cramp, but hell, your mind was full of joyful delirium. You’d kiss them for eternity if you could. 

You whined as their chipped tooth caught on your lip, the slight stinging sensation surprisingly pleasant. Sloan apologetically sucked on your lip, leaning back to stare at you. 

Your lips were a mess. Drool leaked everywhere, and they weren’t too sure if it was from you or them— maybe both— but they were too aroused to care. You made them feel like a horny teen all over again. You, splayed out on your bed, legs quivering, shirt slightly riding up from the sensation of being practically thrown down by Sloan; you looked like a cute little  present, one Sloan was itching to unwrap. 

“Can I take this off?” Sloan was too impatient for you to answer the question that they themself had asked, fingers eagerly working to strip you of your clothes. You would’ve laughed at their eagerness if it wasn’t for the burning need you felt for them in the moment, instead opting to gaze up at them dumbly. 

Sloan sucked in a breath as they gazed at your shirtless figure. You were even more stunning than they’d imagined. Those nights of rubbing one out to the thoughts of their best friend’s cute sibling faded away as they registered that you were truly real and there, under them. 

They wanted to ravish you. 

They nearly whined, large fingers palming your bra-clad breasts. With shaky hands, they clumsily took your bra off. It took Sloan longer than it should have, them constantly kissing you like they couldn’t be away from your lips for two seconds and them fumbling with the bra strap and trying to stop themself from ripping it off entirely. But damn, if it wasn’t worth it. You looked absolutely beautiful. Sloan’s eyes roved over your body like a hawk to its prey. You shivered, entertaining the possibility of being swallowed up by them. 

Their cock pulsed with need at the sight of your bare chest, aching to be relieved. It was almost painful, but Sloan was determined to make this pleasant for you, even in their lust-clouded haze. 

“Mierda. So pretty.. I want you. I need you.” They moved their mouth down to greedily attack your breasts, rolling their tongue around your left nipple. They occupied the other with their hand, alternating between gently scratching the bud, flicking it with their thumb and forefinger, and cupping your breast. You squirmed in their hold and they let out a gentle hum of comfort to try and still your movements, which, admittedly, did nothing but make you wetter than you already were. 

“Sloan..” They momentarily stopped their ministrations to soak up that heavenly noise, but quickly resumed when you let out a whine of protest. 

“Mm?” They mumbled against your breast, stopping their sucking and tongue-prodding to dot kisses down your stomach. “What is it, cariño?”

You shakily sighed, fingers tangling in their hair as you watched them with glazed eyes. 

“‘S not enough, I need more.” You protested softly. Sloan’s eyes softened at the sensation. A hint of their teasing nature sparked up and they thought about making you wait for the reprieve you so desperately desired, but they squashed the whim, deciding instead there was plenty of time for that later. Later, when you two were more prepared.

They pulled away from you and groping your tits and you groaned with disappointment, to which they chuckled softly at. 

“C’mere.” They shifted on the bed so they were laying down. “Take your pants off.”

That sounded appealing. You gulped, scooting over to them, and obediently stripped yourself to your panties, to which Sloan let out a low whistle at. 

Your panties were so cute. Did you doll yourself up in the hopes they’d see you like this and fuck you silly? Sloan sighed dreamily at the thought. 

They pulled you onto their lap with ease, and you prayed that your wetness wasn’t soaking through your underwear and onto them. You bit your lip as Sloan hooked their fingers in your panties, slowly pulling them down. They let out a breathy sigh as they stared at the wetness coating your panties. It was them that you were so drenched for. Them. Sloan Cameron. 

Fuck, they were so lucky. You were just the cutest. 

“On my face.” They said softly, staring at you with love. 

“What?” You sputtered. Sloan tossed your panties aside (as much as they enjoyed them) to who-knows-where in your bedroom, occupying their hands with grabbing your thighs. They marveled at the sensation, squeezing gently.

“On my face.” They repeated. “Sit on it.” 

You stared at them incredulously. “You want me to sit on your face? But what if I’m too heavy?”

They chuckled, the sound rippling through your body. 

“I think I have more than enough strength to handle you sitting on my face.” They said, a bit cockily. You gulped at their brazenness, casting a gaze to the muscles you’d been ogling over earlier. 

The offer did seem tempting…

“But what if you, I don’t know, lose air? What if I suffocate you?” 

“Suffocating between your thighs sounds like an honorable death.” They flashed that chipped tooth grin at you that you had grown to adore so much. “Sloan Cameron— died because they were too devoted to eating some pussy.” You snorted at their inability to stay serious even when extremely horny, knowing arguing with them was useless. 

You shakily clambered atop them. They licked their lips as your sopping wet cunt entered their vision. You hovered over their face apprehensively, but Sloan wasn’t having any of it— you squeaked as they pulled you down onto their face. 

You felt your brain turning to mush as you felt Sloan’s face between your legs. Their nose brushed your clit just perfectly, tingling your spine; it was like their face was made for you to sit on— a.. rather odd way of saying you were meant for each other. You gripped their hair in an attempt to steady yourself, but all hopes of regaining some sense of clarity were dashed as you felt them inhale you. 

“You smell so good,” they moaned out. “I wanna taste you, I wanna taste you.. amor, oh, mi amor..”

You let out a keen as they ran their tongue along your folds, lapping up your wetness. They sighed like they were in heaven at its taste; You were everything they imagined and more, so much more. 

You squealed as they traced your tongue around your entrance prodded their tongue at it. 

“C’mon.” They shakily breathed out. “Move for me. You can do it.”

You gulped, knowing nothing but the feeling of their mouth buried in your cunt. The vestiges of embarrassment faded away as you first grinded on their face, replaced by a wave of overwhelming white-hot pleasure. 

It was too quick, how you lost yourself in the sensations of their mouth. You let out soft sobs of ecstasy as Sloan ate you out like a starved human. They made no move to stop you from tugging on their hair as you ground yourself against their face, basking in your enjoyment and rather enjoying the pain. 

“Sloan, oh, oh, I’m so clo—“

“I’m home! I brought your dumb ice cream!” Yelled the familiar voice of your brother. You immediately snapped out of your lusty trance, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates. You stared at Sloan like you’d been caught stealing from a cookie jar— they looked back with the same ‘oh shit’ gaze. 

Your brother made his presence known in the living room, setting down the spoils from his trip to the grocery store with a loud, annoyed grunt.

“Where are you two?! Why the hell is Sloan’s shirt on the couch..? And is that ice cream??”

Fuck. You’d forgotten the shirt. 

Sloan looked up at you. You looked back, face full of embarrassment, looking to them for help. 

“Say something!” They urged you. 

“What do I even say??”

“I don’t know!” They whisper-yelled, panic palpable. 

You groaned in annoyance. It took every inch of your willpower not to squeeze their face from where it was with your thighs, but they’d probably enjoy that. 

“Sloan went home!!” You yelled quickly, trying to sound normal— as if you hadn’t just been given the best damn head of your life. 

“Without their shirt?” Your brother yelled back. 

You looked at them for an answer. They pursed their lips and creased their eyebrows at you to as if to say “I don’t know!”, but all it did was send ripples of ecstasy through your body. You managed to silence a moan at the sensation of their pursed lips on you, and their eyes tinged with a rekindled fire. 

“T-Turns out we had ice cream!!” You yelled back. “They spilled it and just went home without it! Th-they said they were tired!”

Your brother groaned in annoyance, mumbling a “That sounds like something Sloan would do”. You sighed in relief, though it was short lived as Sloan’s lips closed around your clit. Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head and you had to stifle the loudest whine— with limited success, as it came out like a little grunt. You slapped them from where you were, though it was light, your head too consumed with pleasure to truly do any damage. 

“Keep moving,” Sloan murmured against you. You moaned softly at their breath against the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Are you crazy?” You whimpered. 

They raised an eyebrow at you, as if asking you to really answer that question. Yes. Yes, Sloan Cameron was batshit insane. And yes. You loved them. And the idea was turning you on far too much for you to admit.

You slowly continued rolling your hips across their face, gasping quietly at the sensation. 

“Yo, are you sick up there?! You sound awful! Like, more than usual!” Your brother yelled. You cursed under your breath. Of all the times your brother had to show a semblance of care (even if it was backhanded), why now?

You gripped Sloan’s hair tighter, trembling with each roll of your hips. Drool fell from your mouth and onto the bed. 

“Yeah, I’m fine! I’m- uh- I’m naked-!” You screamed. You cursed softly under your breath. Your tone was far too shaky to even sound believable. 

Sloan giggled against your skin. You squealed, kicking what you could of their body lightly with your foot. They let out a quiet “oomph”, which did little to help you, as it blew air against your swollen clit. You threw your head forward, nearly burying your face in the bed. You really dug yourself a hole with anything you did. 

“Ew!” Your brother blanched from the living room. “So I bought all this beer for nothing?” 

Please leave, please leave, please leave-

“I’m not gonna waste this. And I definitely don’t wanna see you naked! I’m gonna go to a friend’s house and drink this!!” You sighed in extreme relief. “I’ll probably stay over! Don’t burn down the house! And clean up that shirt and fucking ice cream!” Even better. He’d be gone the whole night. You felt almost giddy at the thought. 

You halted your movements, which Sloan pouted at, until you heard the door click shut. You almost burst into tears in relief. 

“Thank goodne—“ You trailed off into a loud yelp as Sloan flattened their tongue against your clit. Any possible words escaped you, torn from your mind as Sloan endlessly abused the sensitive bud. 

Their hands squeezed your thighs, nails gently scratching small marks into it, heightening your pleasure. 

“Close— I think ‘m— Sloan— Sloan!!” You shrieked, clenching their hair and tugging. They moaned into you at the feeling, speeding up their movements to help you reach your peak. You assisted, grinding faster against their face, your imminent release the only thing in your mind. 

You cried as you felt yourself cum, digging your heels into the sheets. Your whole body seized up in the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced, and you collapsed on them, exhausted. Your thighs ached, but you couldn’t imagine how Sloan felt. 

..actually, you could. They were beaming, licking off the traces off wetness you’d left on their face like it was fine dining. You were thoroughly embarrassed by the picture, but it was so addicting to stare at. 

You panted softly, burrowing your face in their neck. You could feel yourself sweating, the heat in your body doing little in terms of leaving. 

“Good?”

“Way too good.. What ab’t you?” You murmured into their neck. They blinked, as if the thought hadn’t even crossed their mind. 

“What about me?” They looked just like a clueless puppy. You wrapped your arms around their waist, absentmindedly squeezing their stomach. 

“This whole thing started ‘cuz you were hard.” You mumbled, gently raking your nails across their body. 

They groaned in embarrassment. “Oh, right.. umm.. don’t worry about it.”

You pouted up at them. They cooed internally at the sight; you were just the cutest!

“No. You pleased me.. I should please you back..”

They sighed with a soft little chuckle. “I pleased you, and by pleasing you, I was pleased. Wait, does that even make any sense?” They hummed, thinking. 

You still weren’t satisfied, fingers tugging at the band of their pants. Sloan gulped nervously, feeling heat spread through their body again. Their large, clammy hands covered yours, dwarfing them. 

“Honestly, cariño, you really don’t have to—“

“But what if I wanna?” You asked softly. 

Sloan let out a sigh. 

“I can’t argue with that.”

You eagerly slipped their pants down along with their boxers decorated with assortments of puppies on them, admiring their built legs. You traced the trail of hair from the bellybutton piercing on their stomach down to where their pubes peeked out. You mewled softly, taking in the sight of them. 

Your eyes trailed down. 

“Oh.” You mumbled. 

Sloan laughed nervously. Was that a good “Oh” or a bad “Oh”?

You were taken aback. By no means was it not long, but what you were impressed by was.. the girth. Sloan’s cock was thick. You gulped at the size, but were determined not to let yourself be intimidated. 

You spat in your hand, slowly wrapping a hand around them. Awed by the way one hand barely fit around their length, you slowly pumped your hand. It was like you were entranced. 

Sloan was weak. They were on the verge of crumbling. You looked so adorable, so fucking innocent, staring at their cock oozing precum with fascination, quickly looking up at them with each stroke to gage their reaction. You were so, so, eager to please them, and they felt like they were going to cum embarrassingly quick. 

They felt like they were in some porn— except nothing they were feeling was an act— you were really there, with them, their skin was on fire, oh, they loved you so much. Oh, they felt depraved. Your hand on them was bliss. Pure bliss. 

When you licked the tip of their cock, they almost came immediately. They cursed and willed themself to hold out a little longer. 

You were thoroughly enjoying their reactions; Every shake, every shiver, every keen was addicting to you. You wanted to draw more from Sloan, discover more, feel more. With them. 

You gave a vein a little kitten lick and they pulled on your hair. You gasped in surprise, sending more of their length down your throat. You gagged on it, hot tears forming in your eyes, but oh, seeing them keel over was so worth it. 

You absentmindedly cupped their balls, giving them a soft squeeze. Sloan grunted. They were so, so close. 

“Mierda, mierda.. te quiero, ah..”

You understood the gist of what they were saying, and let out a muffled “wuvvvyoutoo” against their cock, to which they finally threw their head back with a loud groan. 

They came. Hard. 

You gulped down a bit, pondering the salty taste. You pulled back, the rest coating your mouth. Sloan looked at you.

You were absolutely filthy, their cum coating your face. They reached out a thumb to wipe your mouth, but you licked it off your lips, just like they’d done when they ate you out. 

Sloan gulped. 

Yeah, you would never be their best friend’s sibling again. 

Just you. 

You plopped into their lap, too exhausted to say anything. They sighed, absolutely lovesick, caging you in their arms. They peppered your face with much more innocent kisses.

“I love you.” They mumbled softly.

“Mm.” You tiredly leaned into them, finding entertainment in tracing your hands along their tattoos. “..love you too..”

They smiled softly, nuzzling into your neck. 

Sloan was whipped. 

-

so like i kinda fell off at the end 😺 but yeah this is FILTH! if you read this far you’re a SINNER!!! A FREAK!!

plsplspls tell me if it’s not as gender neutral as it can b and if I can fix anything with sloan or you !! love you mwah 

sighs I need to write sloan putting it in and becoming absolutlyelyl pathetic

[tecontos]

Eu, ela e o Edu

By; @o-barba

Estava em um hotel aqui no Pará, acordo cedo, desço pro café e vou logo dps para área da piscina. Um dos hóspedes chamado Eduardo puxa assunto cmg. Ele é novo, tem 25 anos e está a trabalho na cidade. Veio do Sul, Paranaguá, que ele falou, trabalha em uma empresa no Porto. Me perguntou sobre a cidade, como é o pessoal, se sou casado e tals...eu digo que não sou daqui, sou do Rio e estou de férias.

Conversamos durante muito tempo, até a hora do almoço. Cara era maneiro.

Após o almoço fomos na praia, ele me falou que tinha visto uma novinha pelo hotel, eu sorri. Disse que sabia quem era e ele ficou doido. Eu disse que ela estava com uns amigos no hotel, acho que de férias.

Ele me perguntou se eu curto um baseado, digo que usei só quando era adolescente mesmo. Ele tira 1 do bolso eu digo que na praia é complicado, pode ter policiamento e tals. Ele dá ideia de ir pro hotel, no quarto dele, achei meio estranho, será que ele é gay? rs

Perguntei sem medo sobre sua sexualidade, ele disse que é hétero...e ri.

- Pode ficar tranquilo, não sou gay, responde Eduardo.

Os dois começam a rir.

Voltamos pro hotel, e resolvi ir e virar adolescente outra vez. Férias né....

Ao chegar no hotel, vimos que a Monique estava na área da piscina. Chegamos perto e puxamos assunto. Nos apresentamos, idades e tals...somos hóspedes e que viramos amigos, ela sorriu e ficamos ali conversando durante um tempo. Chamei para ir pro bar do hotel e bebermos alguma coisa.

Monique aceitou e disse que iria encontrar a gente lá. Já no bar e o Eduardo começamos com cerveja. A Monique não demorou, ficamos ali bebendo até tarde. Acho que estávamos ficando bêbados. Eduardo chama a gente pra ir pro quarto dele mostrando o baseado. Os 3 se olham e começamos a rir.

Entramos no quarto, Eduardo fica feliz com a chegada da Isa, e respeitosamente elogia. Ela fica dem graça, mas agradece.

Voltamos aos papos, abrimos mas latinhas de cerveja, rimos, e Eduardo puxou um dos seus baseados do bolso, eu e a Monique nos olhamos, ela disse que já tinha usado com o ex, e que geralmente ficava numa vibe muito boa. Então começamos a fumar, rindo de tudo e ficou aquele clima legal...de amigos. Todos falando besteiras e rindo, e rindo. Eduardo levanta pra ir ao banheiro, Monique esperou essa oportunidade pra me beijar, estávamos na onda e nem percebemos que ele já tinha voltado e ficou de boca aberta com o que estava rolando. Tínhamos praticamente esquecido o Edu, a Monique estava deitada sobre mim e a gente se pegando. Eu apertava a bunda dela com a mão cheia, e ela gemia enquanto beijava...Edu resolveu sentar no chão e observar tudo.

Nosso clima foi esquentando até a gente parar de beijar e ver o Edu sentando olhando pra gente como uma criança observando uma vitrine de loja de brinquedos.

Eu deixo a Monique a vontade sobre tudo que está acontecendo, ela diz que a maior vontade dela era fazer sexo com dois caras...a gente ri e deixamos rolar, só com uma condição, não é não.

Eu e Edu tiramos nossas roupas enquanto Monique faz uma dança sensual pra gente.

A excitação dos dois era notória, Monique também não esconde sua excitação, tirando toda sua roupa e mostrando os bicos dos peitos duros e pele arrepiada. Monique vem em minha direção e voltamos a nos beijar, estou sentado na beira da cama e ela entra minhas pernas de pé.

Enquanto beijo ela, as mãos passam pelo corpo todo, tapas na bunda e apertos, lambidas nos seios, Monique coloca o peito em minha boca, dizendo que adora chupada no peito. Então ela chama Edu para participar...ele abraça ela por trás, já tocando sua bunda com o pau duro. Monique suspira e levanta a cabeça, recebendo beijos do Edu em seu pescoço.

Enquanto eu chupava seus peitos e deixando os bicos duros, dando mordidas, o Edu sarrava o pau na bunda dela deixando arrepiada com seus beijos e passadas de mãos.

Monique pede para os dois ficarem de pé em sua frente, ela ajoelha e começa a chupar o meu pau enquanto masturba o Edu, o pau dele era um pouco maior que o meu, mas o meu era bem mais grosso.

Monique troca de rola como um bezerro troca a teta. Achamos melhor levantar ela e começar a dar prazer para a pessoa principal nesta ocasião, a Monique. Ela deita e oferece sua buceta, deixo o Edu começar chupando ela enquanto subo na cama para chupar os peitos e beijar a boca.

Monique geme bastante, Edu estava fazendo um bom trabalho... até ela anunciar que vai gozar, Edu satisfeito não para até sentir o corpo dela tremer.

Trocamos de posição, Edu deitou na cama e Monique ficou de 4 mamando ele enquanto eu fui por trás dela passar o pau na buceta molhada e piscando de tesão, Monique realmente estava gostando mt daquilo. Enfiei minha rola até ela num susto jogar o corpo pra frente, dps foi só alegria. Socava firme como ela gostava e pedia, enquanto estava com a boca cheia, gemia como uma safada. Dava pra ver e sentir o prazer que estávamos tendo, Edu contorcia os dedos dos pés, e ela estava gostando e eu sentia sua buceta apertar meu pau com vontade.

Eu estou indo bem ali atrás, socando firme e tirando gemidos da Monique, ela já joga o corpo contra o meu e fica pedindo mais, Edu prende a mão em seu cabelo enquanto lhe fode a boca, Monique está babada, vermelha, melada...era isso que ela queria...se entrega como nos seus sonhos.

Edu pede pra foder ela também, ela concorda e se levanta, ela quer cavalgar na rola dele. Ele só desce mais o corpo e ela vem por cima, encaixando a buceta melada, sentando sem dificuldade alguma, Edu elogia a sentada e diz o quando ela está quente e molhada. Eu fico punhetando minha rola, estou com medo de gozar rápido. Monique vendo aquilo abre a boca pedindo pra mamar. Não posso negar, dou a rola na boquinha gostosa dela e digo que estou perto de gozar, ela adora quando falam isso.

Monique cavalga muito e muito, Edu geme competindo com ela, o quarto já cheira a sexo, maravilhosa essa experiência.

Monique cansada de sentar, deita o peito contra o do Edu, ele continua socando nela em um papai e mamãe bem gostoso. Eu aproveito a posição dela e me encaixo por trás dela, ela olha pra trás e ri, hoje vai ser sua primeira dp. Cuspo na mão e passo na cabeça do pau, ela está tão extasiada pelo sexo vigoroso, que permite a penetração em seu cuzinho guloso, bom está feito, Edu socando na buceta e eu no cu, Monique grita de prazer, socadas fortes tiram gemidos altos dela, Edu diz que vai gozar e eu também não demoro, ela está gozando com as penetrações fazendo eu e Edu também enchermos seu cuzinho e buceta de porra quente.

Que loucura aquilo tudo ...os 3 caem na cama.

Enviado ao Te Contos por o-barba.tumblr.com

[opioplutonico]

Eu mentiria se dissesse que não sou apaixonada por você.

Mentiria se negasse que meu olhar brilha ao se deparar com o teu. Que meu sorriso brota no cantinho, meio tímido e receoso. Mas que quando tu me sorri de volta com esse teu riso contido e o mesmo brilho no olhar, uma onda gigante de sensações gostosas me faz não querer mais parar de sorrir.

Eu mentiria se dissesse que tua presença não mexe comigo.

Mentiria se jurasse que não te procuro por onde vou, que por acaso não penso em me deparar contigo em algum canto: no trânsito, num cruzamento, no supermercado distraído. Pois, te procuro até mesmo do meu lado da cama sabendo que não está.

Eu mentiria se dissesse que teu abraço não é conforto.

Porque não há lugar mais confortável para estar que nos teus braços. Mentiria se negasse que teu conforto não me trás segurança e que o mundo facilmente poderia terminar se as tuas mãos não estivessem a me guardar em ti.

Eu mentiria se dissesse que teu beijo não me faz querer ir além. 

E essa seria uma das mentiras mais deslavadas que contaria, pois mentiria muito mal se negasse o tanto que tua boca na minha me deixa fora de órbita. Que nosso beijo não me faz querer terminar encaixados sem ter hora pra acabar.

Eu mentiria se dissesse que teu fogo não encaixa com o meu.

Porque meu corpo fala muito mais alto do que qualquer palavra que eu viesse a usar para negar que não existe um calor fugaz entre a gente. 

É impossível negar que nosso fogo tá na pele, mas o que revela o real encaixe se materializa muito antes do toque, ainda na fome do olhar.

Eu mentiria se dissesse que a gente não combina nenhum pouco.

Porque tu é quase uma cópia dos meus piores defeitos e uma mescla de qualidades insuperáveis que eu admiro tanto. É como se fôssemos peças com cortes diferentes que fazem parte de um mesmo quebra-cabeça.

Eu mentiria se dissesse que não passo horas pensando em você.

Inventando acasos, imaginando cenas difusas, diálogos aleatórios e realidades que só acontecem na minha mente incansável. 

Mentiria se tentasse disfarçar que volta e meia não te imagino aqui, dividindo uma xícara de café, uma pipoca mal estourada enquanto leio um livro deitada no seu colo e caio no sono antes mesmo de virar a página.

Eu mentiria se dissesse que não te quero.

Mentiria se dissesse que não te espero... 

Que não conto as horas pra te ver...

Que só estou vivendo a vida conforme o andar da carruagem e que é somente lá de vez em quando que tu me preenche os pensamentos.

Eu mentiria se dissesse que não me apaixono em silêncio, um pouco mais todos os dias, por algum detalhe seu que sem querer deixei passar.

Mentiria.... 

Não pra você... Para mim.

Porque, de certa forma, você já sabe disso tudo... já que eu nunca sequer nem ousei querer disfarçar.

(Ópio Plutônico)

[imninahchan]

#. 𓂃 ഒ ָ࣪ ⌜ swαηη αrłαud + pegging ⌝ ⸙. ↷

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ˖˙ ᰋ ── domxdom (?), tapa, lub., degradação

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀cuspe, choking, overstim., não revisado!

você corre a plama da mão molhadinha de gel sobre o silicone, sem pressa. Até a pontinha, cuidadosa. O olhar sobe pelo corpo deitado no colchão da cama — as pernas dobradas para que você consiga se encaixa no meio, o pau estirado por cima do abdômen, ainda meladinho. 𝑆𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑛 fuma um cigarro, sopra a fumaça na direção da janela aberta. A respiração se normaliza aos poucos, a dormência que o orgasmo deixou nos músculos vai desaparecendo devagar. As têmporas suam, os fios dos cabelos grudam nas laterais do rosto fino, na testa.

curva-se sobre ele, o silicone resvala no sexo sensível, faz o homem espasmar, com o pito nas mãos antes de tragar. Você o observa bem, o semblante de cansado, o peito úmido de suor. A pele cheira a sexo, o quarto todo exala a fragrância luxuosa. Lá fora, quase anoitece; aqui dentro, vocês não querem parar agora.

“pede por favor”, você comanda, num sussurro. Ele retribui o olhar, retém a fumaça na boca só pra pegar no seu maxilar e soprar tudo pelo espaço forçado entre os seus lábios. Não vai te obeceder. Aquentura ou a aspereza não te incomodam. Na verdade, nem quando o tapa estala na sua bochecha, você se incomoda. Sorri, de canto. A pontinha do nariz resvala no rosto masculino e vai escorregando pescoço abaixo enquanto recua sobre o colchão.

a língua é esticada entre os dentes, molha por onde passa. Um rastro instigante do peito até a virilha, quando para, bem em cima da cabecinha inchada. Ali, deixa um filete de saliva, suja, um pouco malcriada até. As mãos descem da altura das costelas alheias para segurar na cintura, ter o apoio certo na hora de erguer o próprio torso e empurar o quadril pra frente.

𝑆𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑛 arfa, um sorrisinho quebrando pro lado dos lábios, olhos fechados. Não é algo que fazem sempre, e quando fazem é sempre assim: ao final, nos momentos em que a ele falta fôlego, abatido. Ultrasensível. Quieto. Como se fosse a última gota d'água. E você adora, não? Embora não sinta nada fisicamente, na mente está se derretendo de prazer. Soberana, acha que tem algum poder sobre o francês. É feito uma vingança, o preenche, devargazinho igual ele faz contigo, e pende por cima, pra sussurrar ao pé do ouvido “você faz uma puta tão boa”.

ele ri, é bonitinho a forma que o seu ego dobra nessa situação. Qualquer outro homem poderia rebater, e não importa o que dissessem, não se compararia à serenidade assustadora com que a mão grande toma no seu pescoço. O seu quadril ganha mais força, velocidade. Ama a forma com que ele devora a sua ousadia. Sorrindo, um pro outro.

o cigarro escapa dos dedos, cai ainda aceso no chão do quarto. Com mais uma mão livre agora, ele pode pegar no seu seio. Apertar. Está com os lábios entreabertos, mal respira, tenso. Escuta os seus arfares, e te deixa ouvir os gemidos roucos dele. A voz já naturalmente aveludada soa ainda mais melódica, profunda. Te entorpece, reanima um corpo já tão exausto de ser fodido pelo homem sob ti agora.

mas a parte mais estimulante, sem dúvidas é quando só com um simples circular da palma da mão no sexo rijo abaixo da sua barriga, a cabecinha transborda, fluindo e fluindo com facilidade. Mancha o abdômen masculino, respinga. 𝑆𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑛 te aperta com mais rigidez, vibra, chiando a garganta. Os fios de cabelo grisalhos se amassando contra a fronha do travesseiro. E você espera a onda passar, hipnotizada pela cena.

o vê suspirar, correr as palmas da mão no rosto. Ofegando. Aí, você recua com o quadril, o abandona. Se livra até mesmo das amarras que prendem o brinquedo na sua virilha. Porque ele relaxa as pernas, estica, você monta por cima, curvada novamente. Dessa vez, porém, a língua folga entre os dentes, não apenas para degustar da pele salgada, mas para chupar a porra quentinha que empoça no corpo magro. Bebe. Até morde, faminta. 𝑆𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑛 delira, forçando as pálpebras cerradas. Da boca, só ecoa o xingamento, ah, putain...

[cncowitcher]

58. ENZO VOGRINCIC IMAGINE +18

ᡣ𐭩 ─ enzo vogrincic × leitora.

ᡣ𐭩 ─ gênero: smut. 🍷

ᡣ𐭩 ─ número de palavras: 598.

ᡣ𐭩 ─ notas da autora: oioi meus aneizinhos de saturno, como vão? esse imagine é a continuação desse daqui. espero que gostem viu? se cuidem e bebam água, um beijo. 😽💌

Com todo o prazer que Enzo estava sentindo ao receber um boquete de sua namorada, ele não conseguia controlar seus atos. Ele jogava a cabeça para trás, se contorcia e mexia seu quadril, soltava grunhidos roucos, xingava baixinho quando os gemidos de sua mulher mandava algumas vibrações ao redor de seu pau ─ pois ao mesmo tempo que S/n dava prazer para seu homem, seus dedinhos eram esfregados em seu clitóris molhado por cima da calcinha ensopada.

Chupar o pau de Vogrincic é tão gostoso. Tem um sabor adocicado, os pelinhos são rasos, sua glande é macia e o tamanho dele… Pela Virgem de Guadalupe! Ele é grosso, cheio de veias e, como se não pudesse ser melhor, pulsava com maestria toda vez que encostava na garganta da garota ─ que estava amando sentir ele enrijecer ainda mais dentro da sua boca.

Os gemidos e grunhidos que o mais velho soltava eram como música para os ouvidos da brasileira, que estava ficando cada vez mais zonza e com tesão, procurando pelo seu próprio prazer e o de seu namorado.

Enzo sorriu ao olhar para baixo e ver sua mulher toda bonitinha, mamando o seu pau com gosto. Ela tinha os olhos cheios de lágrimas porque era tão gostoso mamar Vogrincic! Tão gostoso sentir ele ir fundo em sua garganta… Tirava o fôlego dela e deixava sua bocetinha pingando, beirando o orgasmo? Com toda certeza! 

─ Carajo, mami, assim eu não vou aguentar por muito tempo. Você tá me usando tão bem. ─ Enzo revirou os olhos. Sua voz estava pesada e sua boca estava entreaberta.

Ao observar agora a coluna da brasileira e sentir ainda mais as vibrações de sua garganta e os gemidos abafados dela, Enzo sorriu com aquela carinha de cafajeste que só ele sabe fazer naquelas fotos que publica no stories do Instagram.

─ Tá se tocando, amor? ─ Indaga o mais velho e joga a cabeça para trás, sentindo sua mulher sugar a cabecinha inchada do seu pau.

Chupar o pau desse homem de trinta e um anos com certeza era uma dádiva e S/n aproveitava isso ao máximo que conseguia!

S/n acabou gozando só esfregando seu clitóris. Ela revirou os olhinhos e sentiu pequenas ondas relaxantes em seu corpo. Agora sim, a atenção era voltada só para o seu uruguaio.

─ Eu vou gozar, chiquita, porra… ─ Vogrincic diz rouco e começa a simular estocadas na boca de sua mulher.

Assim que a garota engoliu com gosto aquele leitinho quente e levemente adocicado, ela se levantou e se sentou nas coxas de Enzo, que prontamente a puxou pela nuca e selou seus lábios iniciando um beijo molhado e apressado.

Ao contrário de muitos filhos da puta, inúteis por aí, que tem nojinho de sentir o próprio gosto ou que só faltam jogar a mulher do outro lado do cômodo, mas o uruguaio não era assim. Enzo Vogrincic realmente é um homem de verdade!

─ Você fica tão linda me mamando, nena. ─ O mais velho fala abraçando sua mulher, meio tontinho por conta do orgasmo recente. ─ Yo te amo, mi reina. ─ Ele sorri passando a mão pela coluna da brasileira e num só movimento a joga no sofá do lado que ela estava e sobe em cima de seu corpo, sussurrando: ─ Mas agora eu não vou te tratar como uma, e sim como uma putinha sedenta por pau. 

E Tropa de Elite? Bem, eles poderiam ver outra hora já que o filme tinha acabado há alguns minutos atrás e o casal latino tinha outras coisas em mente…

[molinxsdeviento]

Romina felt a little silly. Scratch that, she felt A LOT of silly. She was waiting in the cold for her friend when she could very well had walked in and be part of the tour and only just now when Izzy said as much she realized that no one probably knew her. She wasn't a big deal--not in this audience anyway. She wasn't Bey.once or JLo for crying out loud. Also, thinking of those things kept her mind from thinking just how warm Izzy's hand felt against her, even though she had at least 4 layers of clothing. "Yes, you're right, silly me. I just--I didn't want to steal your thunder you know, with my horde of fans stalking me 24/7," she joked at her own expense. After shrugging she went on. "I got here like 10 minutes ago, no worries. Wanna grab a cup of coffee or something?"

@molinxsdeviento asked: "i didn’t want you to go alone." || meme

It wasn't very often when Isabella had the last tour of the day because her tours usually ran a little longer than usual just because she liked to give as much detail as she could and she enjoyed answering questions from visitors. The great thing about this one was that it was a private tour and they tipped very nicely, too. With her messenger bag across her figure, she exited through the front door and was met with a surprise from Romi. "Hi!" The excitement in her voice and face was evident, "aw, that's very sweet of you, Rom. You should've joined me for the last tour, I'm sorry you had to wait out here in the cold..." Izzy reached to rub her forearm in an attempt to warm her up a little bit.

[redclown19]

yyour art is SO GOOD,, LIKE EXTREMELY GOOD ILOVE IT SO MUCHH!! could you draw jonathan and jervis listening to Onda Onda (Olha a Onda) 😿😿??

Hi! I'm sorry for answering so late. Thank you so much! You’re too kind. >_<

I didn’t really know what to draw so i did some doodles of them dancing to the song.

Then i got sidetracked with the idea of them (and Ed) as the album cover. I hope you don’t mind.

[subitaeu]

a memória é um sopro, uma ventania corriqueira, do dia-a-dia. ela está ali nos pequenos detalhes de um sonho ou nos grandes detalhes de uma presença que já foi um pouco mais requisitada pelo coração. as temidas gentilezas do passado, onde eu estive, onde eu olhei, onde eu sorri e onde também chorei. onde, um dia, se formaram as urgências de toque e de canções. belas canções em que bailei e escrevi belas histórias com os pés. os abraços apertados espalhando saudade pelos corpos, os beijos de carinho e afeto que nunca se desfizeram em um mundo além da memória, as mãos dadas de mentes esquecidas por ela. sinto que além de carregá-la comigo, tenho o dever de enlaçar minha pele em suas flores, mesmo com seus espinhos e farpas, mesmo com sua recusa. memórias, afinal, são como ondas de mar aberto. não se vê de onde vem e como se formam, apenas quando estão quebrando e chegando a beira da praia, atingindo os pés e enterrando-os na areia molhada. a memória é como o oceano, se contempla e depois se faz parte.