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#same with skirts having waist but not hip
barzysunflower · 1 day
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can we get a barzy smut (ur wearing his cowboy hat, doing it on the kitchen counter)
save a horse, ride a cowboy – mb
wc: 1.9k
cw: SMUT (18+)!!!, dirty talk, cowboys 🤠
note: I knoooooow I’m supposed to be working on other things but at least I’m writing again!!! hopefully more coming soon!!! love you guys & thanks for the support 🫶🏼 reblogs & comments appreciated
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“Alright, cowboy. I’m ready. Let’s go.” After over an hour of getting ready you finally stepped out of the bathroom ready for your night out. Mat and your friends were going out tonight to a bull riding event that came to New York only once a year. Your recent obsession with cowboys had you giddy for the night all day long. You had broken in your new cowboy boots for weeks specially for tonight. Your boyfriend had the same idea with his cowboy hat. Which looked absolutely sexy on top of his mess of hair. You’d been fantasizing for a while about riding him with his hat on. But that would wait for after the show.
You found Mat sitting on the couch on his phone with his black cowboy hat on his head. “Finally,” he said, putting his phone away, looking up at you. You could see his breath hitch as his eyes dragged over your body, slowly, up and down, then up again to meet your eyes. They narrowed slightly as he pulled his lower lip between his teeth.
You grinned and spun around in a circle, giving him the full view of the outfit. The white oversized linen blouse that was held together in the front by only two strings, with a red lace bra underneath, the tight black miniskirt with an oversized western belt and the star of the show, your cherry red cowboy boots. “Good?”
“Fuck,” was all he muttered, before lifting his hand to rake his hand through his hair, which knocked the cowboy hat of his head he forgot he was wearing. He was frozen in place so you took to few steps it took to get to him, leaning over a little too closely to give a little peak and picked the hat up, setting it on your intentional wavy mess of hair.
“Now I’m ready.” You stroked his cheek and winked at him before walking to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Mat immediately jumped up and followed you to the kitchen where he came up to you from behind to pull you into his body by your hips. His lips latched onto your neck, pressing soft wet kisses along it while his big hand slipped underneath your open blouse over your stomach keeping you in place against him.
“We gotta go,” you hummed leaning more into his touch. You really did have to go, but the warmth that spread throughout your body was terribly good at letting you forget that fact.
“I don’t care,” Mat mumbled back, still working your neck and jawline while sliding his hands over your body.
“We’re gonna miss the opening show,” you tried again, but there wasn’t much care behind your words either.
“I’d much rather bend you over the counter and fuck you all night long.” A little gasp escaped you at his words. “And you know what they say, you wear the hat you ride the cowboy.”
You couldn’t argue with that logic and let him spin you around and kiss you breathlessly. The hat was knocked of your head when he pressed you into the fridge kissing you so aggressively that you had to grip his own linen blouse you forced him to wear – a black tshirt just wouldn’t do – strong enough you were scared you were going to rip holes into it.
You didn’t kiss for much longer, both of you already worked up enough, before Mat gripped your hips roughly to flip you and bend you over the kitchen island. You landed on your elbows, palms flat on the marble while Mat kicked your legs apart. He groaned slapping your ass that was already peaking out from under your skirt. He shoved the tiny bit of frantic even higher so it bunched around your waist, only to reveal the matching red lace thong. The growl that came out of him could have brought you over the edge alone. Mat’s calloused hands griped your delicate skin then pressed his erection into you.
“This ass drives me crazy, every fucking day.” He slapped your skin again. “And then this skirt, god.”
Your moan was interrupted by a chuckle. “I’m aware. We never make it out the door without you fucking me against the closest surface any time I wear it.”
One of his hands got ahold of your waves and pulled your upper body up to him. With a touch voice he spoke into your ear sending shiver down your spine, “Is that what you want? For me to fuck you on the counter? Making us late yet again? We’re starting to gain a reputation.”
His grip on your hair was rough but the pleasure trumped the pain. “Yes,” you whispered hoarsely.
“Good girl.” And with that she shoved you back down, pressing you flat against the cold counter. He works his pants, freeing his hard cock desperate to slide right into you. And he doesn’t waste any time pushing your pantries to the side, lining up and running the tip over your folds. You both gasp at contact. “This pussy if soaked for me. You like the hat that much, eh?”
You wiggled your ass in response, widening your stance and pushing back into him to urge him on. He slipped himself through your folds again before slamming into you to the hilt. “Oh god,” you moaned, your finger digging into the marble.
Mat gave you a few more seconds to adjust before gripping your hips and thrusting back into you, hard. “So fucking right.” He switched between hard and fast thrusts then slower and more precise ones, grinding into you making sure to hit every angle. His hands were on you. Your back, pushing you down. Your hair, giving him something to hold onto while slamming into you repeatedly.
You were a whimpering moaning mess underneath him. “That what you wanted? To be fucked by a cowboy?” His words were choppy and breathless as he slammed into you then rolled his hips sliding impossibly deeper.
“Fuck, yes,” you breathed. That got your ass slapped and your hair pulled hard giving you enough momentum to force yourself up onto your hands. Mat’s lips connected with your shoulder, biting down enough to leave marks before soothing the burn with soft kisses.
“You are delicious,” he murmured and suddenly the moment turned soft. Your arm wrapped around his neck pulling him into you for a kiss. Your tongue slipped into his mouth and you both moaned when Mat started slowing moving his hips again.
But then he separated, only enough to spin you around and lift you up onto the counter, capturing your lips immediately after. You kissed, not caring about smearing your red lipstick. He was addicting and even though you absolutely hated being late to events, for this you’d give up everything. But when your body started to scream for his cock filling you again, you slipped your hand between your bodies wrapping your hand around the root of his hard length that juts out above the waistband of his underwear. Around every hot, hard inch covered in your juices. Your finger glides over the tip, smearing the drops of cum beading there.
Finally, you slid closer to the edge of the counter and Mat filled you easily, breaking the kiss to let his head fall back with a groan. Your legs shook in their place around his waist. You felt every inch, every ridge, every vain as he slowly moved inside of you. The please was building and building, turning your brain into mush losing control over your body. But Mat got you, pinning you to him, savoring every moan and sigh.
“Maty. Maty.” You buried your face in the crock of his neck and let him work you, pumping into you slow but deep.
“You’re so good to me,” he whispered, his lips tracing your damp skin. “So good.”
His jaw flexed as he started to pick up his pace again, both of you already close to finding your release. So you lied back on the counter, let your legs fall open, and started to play with yourself while Mat took you in. That expression of passion and love on his face in full blinding force. But then you bit your lip and pinched your clit as his expression turned downright wicked. He pulled out and then slammed in hard. Again. And again. Steady, even, powerful strokes that shook your entire body.
Mat fucked you senseless on the top of the kitchen counter. The cowboy hat, which had gotten you so worked up all afternoon since he refused to wait until tonight to wear it, scattered on the floor. He looked like some sort of avenging god working you into a frenzy. Flushed cheeks, disheveled hair flopped over his forehead, veins bulging on his forearms while his abs flexed with every thrust. You could come just from savoring the view you got by lying with spread legs beneath his hard, heavy body. His hands held you open wide, and his eyes stay locked on yours.
You finally fell apart underneath his touch. Your body tremored, wave after wave as your orgasm dragged on for an eternity. Mat draped himself on top of you, pressing him lips to yours, swallowing every moan you gave him.
You held him close, hugging him to you even closer. Your shudders subsided and you were finally able to focus on him, noticing his lips switch – a tell he was also close. “Come on, cowboy. Come in me.”
Your voice was hoarse against his ear. You reveled in the fact that he shivered in response before his thrust got more and more sloppy, before he finally erupted. Mat groaned loudly, pushing deeper into you, spilling every drop of him cum inside of you. You felt everything. Every pulse. Every kiss. Every touch. You could even feel his heartbeat on your chest and his harsh breath against your neck.
You spent a couple of minutes catching your breath, stroking his hair, waiting for that orgasm cloud over your brain to pass. When you finally did muster up the courage to look over to the oven clock, you pushed Mat away from you. “Fuck! We’re really gonna be late now.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Mat’s hand caught your wrist, spinning you back towards him. “Let’s clean up.”
He grabbed a paper towel, wetting it in the sink, before dropping to his knees. His green eyes were still oozing sex as he slowly wiped his cum from your thigh. “Hurry,” you whined. “I wanna see the cowboys.”
He smirked before reaching back to grab his hat off the floor flopping it on his head. “You’ve got a perfectly good cowboy sitting right here. On his knees ready to worship you, might I add.”
As much as you loved the feel of your pussy clenching at the thought, you had plenty of time to do that later. Mat worshipping you could wait. The cowboys couldn’t. And that’s what you told him, before pulling him off the floor, doing the cleaning up yourself to actually get the job done. After a quick trip to the bathroom for some perfume renewal, you finally dragged your cowboy out the door.
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mattluvsmarni · 2 days
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Fanfiction Truth
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Summary: You knew Matt for as long as you can remember, but what you didn't know is how he'd react after catching you reading fanfiction about him.
Warnings: smut with a plot, p in v, making out, slight humiliation, swearing, unprotected sex.
A/N: This is my first fic on here. Idk how i came up with this i just thought imagine if his s/o in the future were to see the things that are written about him and ofc my mind went to filthy places. anyways i hope this fulfils ur expectations, enjoy lovlies!!
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
You lay on your stomach aimlessly scrolling through Pinterest for the last 3 hours, you adjust yourself, sitting upright , and shaking your arms to let the blood flow again. you and Matt were supposed to hangout but he's running late. you pick up your phone to check if matt has texted– nothing. You find yourself thumbing through posts trying to stay busy.
You come across a post reminding you of a comment section about matts fanfictions. You drop your phone to pick your laptop up again, search his name in tags, and scroll judging by titles until you find one. 
as you read, you can feel your eyes slightly watering and the light coming from the screen suddenly being a bother, 
Her and Matt are in a club. 
The lights are low, they’re intoxicated, his hands on her hips, not an inch of space between they’re bodies, they’re moulded into one.
 her head thrown back, he's breathing in her ear. 
his hands running up and down her body. 
you sit back, your thighs pressed together. this is matt, your matt, the matt on his way to innocently hang out with you right now. and this is what you’re doing? You stare at the screen for another minute contemplating your choices , but you're already wondering what's going to happen next. 
he snakes his arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. 
she can feel him growing in his pants. 
she can feel her arousal soaking her panties, as she tries to squeeze her thighs together while continuing to grind and sway, 
 He's teasing, toying with the hem of her skirt. She tightens her grip on the material around his biceps, as her nails dig into the skin of his around her waist.“Matt, please” she breathes.
“Please what” he teases
“I need you, please.” 
‘“In any situation your manners are still in use, such a good girl aren't you?” he coos.
“For you? Always.” she admits, spinning around to wrap her arms around his neck.
“Yeah?”, He chuckles, “you’re going to have to hold out for me until we’re home though.” he mockingly pouts, smoothing his hand down your back to lightly squeeze your ass.
This was getting you all hot and bothered. you’d be lying if you said you weren't imagining present day you and Matt. 
Matt and you unintentionally ended up at the same college, after he made your early school years more horrible than it already was. Now being ‘older and wiser’ which he claims to be he finally grew a pair leaving him with a want to rectify his history with you . This includes hanging out from time to time, trying to form a healthy friendship, and seeing where it goes from there. 
but reading that and always having nothing other than your fingers to help you get off. Makes everything you just read sound so perfect. You’ve had your fair share of fantasies when it comes to Matt. Seeing it all spelt out and in front of you made you in need of something real. You just wanted to drop to your knees in front of him, and beg to please him. Have him laugh in your face, call you pathetic, and shove his dick down your throat. 
"Fuck" you whisper shout, running a hand through your hair, your thoughts were out of control. You slam your laptop shut. pacing around your room, up till your movements are interrupted by a notification on your phone. 
Matt:
I just pulled in 
You:
omw!
After taking a minute to exercise your breathing. You slip on your slippers running down the stairs, the buzzer goes off right before you can hit the button.
Letting him in, you notice the bag of snacks in his hands before looking up at him to see that small, but genuine smile. He pulls you in for a quick hug. "Sorry Chris needed me to take him to eat before I came over."
You can't even look him in the eye and he's apologising for running late. "no, no you’re good, come on up." you exclaim, shaking your head of all unwanted thoughts.
-
lying on your backs facing each other. you guys fell into a chain of laughs and good conversations with your playlist playing in the background. "I'm glad to finally have you sitting here listening to my music."
"Stop acting like I hog." he gasps, "I let you play music."
 With a quirk of your eyebrow, he quickly adds, "sometimes."
"name one time." you insisted.
Turning his head in the other direction. He tries to pretend he's in thought when really, he's trying to hold back a smile. 
"Mhm exactly" you strongly emphasise, "I'll never understand why though my taste is significantly better than yours."
"yeah?" He argued
and that one word took you back 2hrs, reminding you of what you read earlier.
You sat up clearing your throat, "yeah."
"Let's not lie to ourselves."
"Denial is the sickest disease" rolling his eyes at your comment. He goes to gather all the trash into a single bag, Brushing you off with a distasteful grumble.
-
"Can we start looking for a movie to watch?" He asks
"Of course! start looking." you call out on your way out to grab a soda for the two of you.
You walk back into the room to Matt and inch away from the computer screen, his eyes quickly moving from one side to another. 
"Here" you chuckle, handing him his drink
"Who needs movies when we could just read these" he suggests.
Every bone in your body goes rigid. You completely forgot to clear the tab. "Wait, hold on, give me a second." you frantically try to reason, lunging forward in an attempt to take it out of his hands.
But he’s quick to drive it out of your reach.
"No, you wait, and give me a second, I'm almost done." he says, bringing a finger up before your face to punctuate his words. 
A wave of embarrassment washes over your entire body, you sit back trying not to look anymore suspicious. Your pursuit at trying to stay unbothered fails the minute you start to think about what part he's reading. 
Matt seems so invested and you’d give a million bucks to know what was going on in his head right now. The only sound between the two of you was the music now lightly playing. He continues his scrolling, smirking for a split second, now you’d also kill to know what drove that reaction out of him.
You can hear the pounding of your heart, as he finishes up closing the object of your demise to look up at you. You avert your eyes, taking sudden interest in your feet. 
“I've always heard of these but never got around to actually reading one though.” he says finally breaking the silence 
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth not knowing how to respond.
"Why were you reading them anyway?" he questions, inching closer to your place at the edge of the bed.
"I saw a comment section on it the other day" you're 100% sure it's visible how hard you’re breathing.
"There's no need to be embarrassed. I'm just surprised. It's not something I expected from you." he assures. 
"What’d you think of it?" he asks, placing a hand on your unclothed thigh, and smiling triumphantly when he hears your breath hitch. 
"I didn't get to really read it" you say lying through your teeth.
"Come on we both know that's a lie he says with a look of disbelief. ‘It's written all over your face, you’re telling me you didn't imagine me and you in that club." He asks, trailing his hands up your thigh . 
"Because I did. It was you who I imagined wearing a flimsy little black dress. Under colourful lights. It was your body that was backed up against mine." he says, and you can feel his breath on year neck.
Your eyes flutter closed as you angle just right for him to mark. 
He brings his lips to your neck leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses.
You couldn't bring yourself to care how evident your need for him was anymore. Not with that confession of his. Not when he was touching you the way you’d only dreamed of in the company of yourself.
"I want you to let me have my way with you, have you under me. For you to be begging me to let you finish." he says, his hand now almost right where my body needs him the most.
"Or I could just back off completely. And continue to be your plain old buddy Matt."
"Your pick sweetheart." He threatens, removing himself from you. 
"Matt!" you instantly whine at the loss of warmth. Quickly reaching for his hand to place it back on your thigh, 
"the first option" you huff out. 
He chuckles, slowly bringing his hand up to your clothed clit pressing his finger to it tracing along the wet patch that's gathered and I forgot how to breathe. 
His touch is light and barely there but i still can't will myself to breathe. I wish he'd give more and as careless as it makes me, I want it. 
"tell me. What exactly was the first choice again?’"He begins moving in a slow and tangible circular motion. 
you open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a jumbled cross of a gasp and a hum.  
He slows down his movements even more. coming up to pinch your nipple through your shirt. "I asked a question."
"Have your way with me until I'm begging you to let me finish." you rush out, throwing your head back, and bucking up your hips looking for more friction. It was embarrassing that you were already losing it and he’s done nothing.
“You don't have to tell me twice” picking back up his speed. A barely there whimper escapes my lips.
He's leaving more kisses all down to where his teeth skim the sensitive skin between your neck and shoulder. Marking all along your skin.
 he finally dips a finger inside your underwear. Seeing for himself how much of an effect he’s actually had on you. 
“So fucking wet like I knew you’d be.” His cock twitched against the constricting material of his pants as you audibly moan at his words
Inserting a finger. You throw your head back from the sudden relief as he works you perfectly. Your body had a mind of its own in this moment, moving with his fingers.
“Yeah go ahead and ride my fingers. Show me how good I make you feel.” He growled into your ear
Pressing his thumb to your clit as he curled his fingers in you, and that was all you needed to come undone all over his fingers.
Watching you try to catch you breath and the way your lips were still parted had him bringing his fingers dragging them across your lips to spread your wetness along them
You made direct eye contact as you darted your tongue out to taste yourself, that small action alone did so many things for him
Tempted, he licked his own lips reflectively mirroring your actions. 
Overtaken by his temptation he smashes his lips against yours, your hands fly to his hair taking advantage of your surprise he’s quick to slip his tongue into your mouth tasting you like he was a starved man you moan into the kiss as he brings you up to straddle his lap.
The kiss was hungry and fast eager to satiate the want you both were obviously feeling he was gripping your hips to help you move in circular motions as you grinded down on him you’ve never felt so in need of something more than you were right now he felt the same it was written into his lips and the way it aggressively moved against your own. 
Your patience was wearing thin. And his dick was begging to be freed. Your fingers reached down to press on the button of his jeans then to look into his eyes for any signs of disagreement. There wasn’t any. “I don’t want to finish on anything other than your dick right now.” you admit as you go to unbutton his pants.
“Fuck” he curses, halting your movements by quickly flipping you both over so that his chain was now dangling over your face. He wasted no time reconnecting your lips, only pausing to pull your top off and making quick work of your bra. 
His lips moved down swirling his tongue around your hardened nipple “Matt” you breathed, as your body melted completely into his touch. “Please” moving over to give the other one the same attention “I know baby, I know” he assured
Leaving a path of kisses all the way down to the waistband of your shorts. “Up” he spoke. Lifting your hips so he could get rid of your shorts and panties. Next came his shirt and finally those cockblocking jeans.
His pants and boxers now a pile of nothing on the floor. He started slowly stroking his member, aligning it with your wet and ready entrance, amused at the moan you let out when he had barely pushed it in yet. “Quit the teasing.” you whined
 He pushes himself in “holy shit you're tight”, he grits out and you immediately clench around him causing a groan to escape his lips.
You felt light-headed by the amount of pleasure you were feeling at the moment.
Matt. Right here, was everything to you right now. It was something that was gonna be inked into your brain forever.
With a roll of his hips and the arching of your back he was buried deep in you, and it had you seeing stars.
Matt loved the position he had you in where he could see every single reaction he pulled out of you. "exactly where i wanted you" he says with each thrust. "and you're taking me so, so well."
The tip of his dick continuously meets the sweet spot inside you, sending you closer to the edge
"oH OH" you quietly moan
"Come on don't hold back, i wanna hear you" he grunts, "is this what you imagined when you were reading those filthy things about your friend?"
you moan in response. he continues his merciless pace, as he brings a thumb to your clit.
"Fuck, fuck matt i'm close." you warn just as you feel the nearing of your second orgasm.
"go ahead baby, cum for me" his thrusts and thumb both gaining speed
as if your body was waiting on his permission, your vision fades to black while you feel your body arch off the bed as you let yourself go
"fuck yeah" he moans, his movements getting sloppy as he paints your insides white
you both lay there after he collapses next to you and pulls you in after you've both caught your breaths
"so am i staying here tonight" he questions breaking the silence
you can feel his chin moving on top of your head as he speaks, "no we can't remember that was established."
"I think it's a little too late to be talking about not crossing lines, considering you just let me fuck you." you could just imagine that smug look of his right now feeling all proud knowing he's got you
"fine just this once" you sigh in defeat
"yup just this once" he mocks as he gets up to your bathroom looking for a towel to clean you both up.
"i'm serious" you demand loud enough for him to hear only smiling to yourself now that you're out of his sight.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
A/N 2: That pic of Matt on the tour bus will always have me in a chokehold.
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*WIP THURSDAY*
I was tagged by the lovely @slippinninque and I'm happy to share some sneak peeks into my WIPs 📖
I have three recent WIPs (besides my series I am still working on), and I'm excited to list them here:
1. The Siren of Baker Street - Henry Cavill!Sherlock Holmes x Black!OFC (Explicit - smut) - Sherlock is enamored with a new client.
"Before she knew it, Pearl is kneeling next to Sherlock’s armchair. Her shivering hands reaching out to warm herself by the fire. Sherlock watches quietly as the fire illuminates her face in an ethereal glow. In contrast to the warmth of the fire, Sherlock is frozen in his spot as he contemplates his next move."
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2. Untitled* - Soft!Dark!Lloyd Hansen x Chubby!Black!Fem!Reader (Explicit - smut/violence) - Lloyd deals with a toxic alpha male that is bothering you.
"He was always a fan of this outfit because it hugged all of your curves. The halter top accented your full breasts with a healthy amount of cleavage. The high-waisted fitted skirt showed off your wide hips and thick thighs and stopped just under your knee. A pair of stilettos, with a little buckle that Lloyd bends down to secure, completes the ensemble."
*This story is actually based on an ask i received (nonny, I love your ideas btw).
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3. Don't Kill My Vibe - Henry Cavill!Clark Kent x BestFriend!Black!Fem!Reader (Explicit - smut/weed use) - You finally agree to help Clark ease the pain of his broken heart.
"You were already elevated, having taken a couple puffs from your blue and red glass bowl earlier, so you were struggling to pay attention to everything he was saying. You tried to put on your “I’m not high” face and nod enough, saying “oh wow” every so often. But, in actuality, your eyes were as red as the Devil’s dick and Clark wasn’t stupid."
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I'm switching back and forth between writing all of these at the same time. Yes, that's crazy, but so is writing for free and praying for the dopamine that creative feedback gives us.
I'm open to any questions about these sneak peeks as well, I welcome it, honestly.
no pressure tags: @raccoon-eyed-rebel @blackwood4stucky @ronearoundblindly @navybrat817 @targaryenvampireslayer
@winter2112rose @hansensgirl @vellicore
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alagaisia · 3 months
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Thredup is a great site for if you care only about what brand your clothes are and not about any of their features
#all of the search and categorizing options are so terrible#I mean the options are fine. it would be nice if selecting them meant you were shown clothing that matched them#also. you say on the site that sizing is wildly inconsistent between brands (we know)#you also provide (some) measurements for most items#why are you using tag size to sort things. you could use the measurements#‘my size’ is a basically useless filter because you want to put in the full range of sizes that might fit you in some brands#(since there’s not one size that fits you in all or even most brands)#but then 98% of results when you actually click on something cute are not your measurements anyway#because that size in that particular brand doesn’t fit#also why do you use only chest measurements for dresses. where is the waist measurement.#those are different things and there’s not a consistent ratio between them you can’t skip one#same with skirts having waist but not hip#although usually I’m looking for (and not finding because again filters don’t work) for styles where the hip measurement is irrelevant#you sure can search and sort by brand though!#thank god nobody cares about the style and fit and characteristics of their clothing and only the name on the inside#mine#tangent in the tags#not really though it’s all very much on the same topic lol#I got bored with poshmark browsing last time so I decided to switch it up#you would think a site where everything runs through it would standardize their stuff better but no it’s somehow worse#than the site with a thousand random people doing different things#thredup#thrifting
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flareguncalamity · 1 year
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i’m sure someone on here has said this before, but i think cis tiktok really took “feminine in a masculine way” and ran with it without realizing that the appeal of being feminine in a masculine way to genderqueer people, especially afab genderqueer people, isn’t just looking hot or whatever. it’s specifically the discordance of being perceived as masculine and performing femininity.
Like, you see cis women on tiktok with the caption “trying to be feminine in a masculine way!” and then they’ll wear these super femmey suits with their hair back and like. that’s cool i guess? i’m glad you feel confident. but the angst that genderqueer people feel over wanting to be feminine in a masculine way is derived from how this feeling almost seems like an impossible goal. like, femininity is standard for women, so when people perceive you as a woman and you dress feminine there’s no perceived deviance at all. you’re just dressing and acting like how a woman should, according to the audience of people who see you on the street. The part you feel that you lack when you say ‘in a masculine way’ is the part where your femininity gets to be nonstandard.
there’s almost a kind of grossness to when cis men in particular do femininity. it ranges at times from “haha ironic comedy, isn’t it so WEIRD and WACKY when men wear skirts???” gross to something almost demonic (like how men wearing makeup were treated at the height of the satanic panic). there’s like, falseness. like the femininity is separate from you somehow, as a facade, and that there’s some kind of clash between the femininity and the person underneath. and i’m not saying those are good things- the opposite, it’s really, really bad that we treat gender deviance this way. but the longing for this experience as an afab genderqueer person is the longing to exist in a role that is non-normative without sacrificing the things we love about femininity, and to be able to be feminine without having that related back to some quintessential nature of your gender as determined by broader society. I honestly feel like Natalie Wynn described this really well when she said that for her, as a woman, there’s no “de-dragging” where the womanhood falls away from her and she ceases to be feminine in a way that a drag queen might after a performance is over. I think what genderqueer people want when they want to be feminine in a masculine way is to have that ability, to have their femininity be a costume that they can take off at will.
anyways all this to say that i don’t think cosplaying as modcloth-workwear girlboss is going to help me achieve my gender euphoria goal of old church ladies sneering at me in derision every time i wear a dress. although honestly that is a great idea for a drag queen character
#this is an extremely funny post for me to make as someone who has denied the non-binary accusations for as long as i have#like girl you are not fooling anyone with the she before the they in your pronouns. be real#oc#non-binary#genderqueer#feminine in a masculine way#obviously i don’t speak for all genderqueer people#but like. i’d love for femininity to be something i can take off when i’m not longer in the mood for it#and not something that people view as being ‘inherently attached to my essence as a woman’ or whatever#i don’t have an essence of a woman. i have like. a poorly functioning intestinal tract#the thing that is inside of me is slimy organs. please stop ascribing gender onto my nasty weird little body#there’s honestly something so alluring about giovanni pota he’s spiky pink mullet and stubble and black nail polish#like. the image of a skirt that doesn’t fit quite right on you because your hips and waist are about the same circumference. so it’s like#mismatched???#and then the idea of wearing eyeliner but having like. stubble and acne#UGH. and like. dresses that have built in cups but you don’t have a bust? to fill it out???? auughhhh i wish i didn’t have a massive rack#like my body is SO traditionally feminine in figure i have such an hourglass silhouette and like the long legs and shit#and like. i feel like i look great maybe 40-45% of the time#i love filling out a fit and flare dress when i’m going out to hang out with lesbians and feeling very sexy in that context#but i don’t want that to be permanent yknow. there’s a restriction there that i despise#giovanni potage. idk why that corrected to pota he#considering potage is a word. fuck autocorrect
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cantate-domino · 1 year
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Does anyone know if you can make a skirt longer if there isn’t that much hem? I’m going to school in Japan and I’ve never had a uniform before, I’m expecting that I’ll need to alter my uniform since the average height is almost 30cm shorter than I am.
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bratfiction · 7 months
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18+ CONTENT — MDNI
loser, college!könig… like actual loser who barely knows how to talk to girls. but god, you’re so cute and small compared to him. he can smell your sweet perfume and has definitely, surely noticed how little your skirt is as you sway on your feet next to him, looking up with those glossy eyes of yours.
“what do you want?” oh. he’s as much of a brute as he looks, you’ve come to realize. straight to the point, a bit scary.
his eyes narrow while your mouth falls open but nothing comes out, your eyes are welling with tears and könig feels the need to roll his own while you blubber about how much help you need in the class you two share. you’re the only one that can help me; you sniffle pathetically, hoping it will persuade him into tutoring you in these trying times.
you’re seconds away from falling to your knees and pleading him— luckily you don’t have to because könig is holding out his phone, expecting you to add your number into his contacts. and of course you do while continuing to sniffle and babbling out thank you’s that he chooses to ignore.
“i’ll text you and we’ll figure it out,” he grumbles before leaving you where you stand in the hallway.
if only you knew that you’d end up bent over his desk a month later, curses falling from your lips with every thrust that shakes your entire frame and rattles his stupid PC monitors on his desk. your hands are planted on either side of his keyboard, trying your best not to accidentally slam your palms down on it in a cock-hungry haze.
you’re unsure of how he even managed to bully his way into your cunt in the first place. all you remember is that his head was under your skirt for at least an hour before you got this far, making you all messy with his spit as his fingers worked their magic inside your pretty cunt. “prettiest cunt i’ve ever seen,” könig made sure to tell you, before flattening his tongue in your folds and forcing your hips to grind down.
fuuuck, könig— you whimper tearfully. but at the same time you’re pushing your bum back to meet his thrusts, savoring the feeling of your cheeks being pressed flush against his hips every time as your back arches perfectly. könig squeezes your waist beneath his giant hands, but they end up cupping your tits eventually, squishing and squeezing to make you tremble even more in his hold.
truthfully he doesn’t know what’s come over him. doesn’t know where this sudden ability to pull orgasms out of such a cute dumb girl came from, especially with his limited but very valuable experience. however he does know that your cunt is heavenly and the way it squeezes him is better than any fleshlight he’s ever had, admittedly. enough to have him seeing white and throw his head back with a breathy groan every few seconds. he thinks he needs it every day.
you’ll be lucky if he lets you leave his dorm after this.
— want more loser, college! könig?
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eumivrse · 5 months
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FUCK ME LIKE YOU MAD AT ME BABY (I NEED A FREAK TO DRIVE ME CRAZY!)
rough/angry sex ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, choso
warning(s) drunk sex + spanking (gojo), orgasm denial (geto), jealous sex + light bondage (nanami), car sex (toji), spitting + choking (choso), lowkey toxic, lots of degrading words, overstim, mention of safe word, breeding, creampie, squirting, cervix kissing, reader calls nanami ‘sir’ once, JUST A LOT OF SMUT IDK
note i’ve been equally horny for all of them lately ngl. also the title is so long but the song is stuck in my head ;0
tags @kurosaaki
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GOJO
it takes a lot to piss satoru off. he lets things slide half due to his lack of ability to tell that people are mocking him and the other half because of his huge ego.
but there’s always that once in a blue moon moment when he comes home from work, mind already filled with irrational anger. and it just happens to be the same day you have your weekly night out with your girlfriends and are out until the ungodly hours of the night.
and of course that’s fine and all, but when he saw you stumbling into your doorstep tipsy at 3 in the morning, the word rational has been far blotted out of his dictionary. he’d already drank half a bottle of wine by himself at this point from drowning in his sorrows and satoru is the mere personification of a lightweight.
it wasn’t long until your face is buried against your leather couch, ass up as he pounded into you.
drool seeped out the corner of your mouth, babbling, “satoru-“ your moans were muffled, your head forced down on the couch by his huge hand while he slams his pelvis against your ass, cock sliding in with ease. he didn’t even talk to you— as soon as you were ready to give him a hug, he flipped you over the couch and pulled up the cute little skirt you decided to wear today, pulling your panties over one ass cheek to not bother himself with taking all your clothes off.
he struck your ass with his palm, then kneaded the plump to ail the pain. “gonna cum for me, princess? hm?” you nearly shrieked when he slapped you again, this time with more force inflicted. but you weren’t going to lie— having him treat you like this is more like a gift than it is a punishment.
“yes…” your voice shrunk, heavy breaths in sync with his thrusts. clawing onto nothing, you bit the inside of your cheek, suppressing your loud moans, still sober enough to realize that it’s late and your neighbors are fast asleep.
he pulled out almost completely, leaving you hollow until he pistoned into you by pulling your waist against him, the head of his cock nearly prodding onto your cervix. “fuck… i love your slutty pussy, milking so— fuck— so well...” satoru’s inability to shut the fuck up even when he’s this close to cumming is something that continues to amaze you.
starting painfully slow, his impatience eventually took over him and continued to fuck into you with deep, yet quick thrusts that happened to hit your spot, fluid spurting out of your hole and onto his abdomen. you gasp, legs trembling while satoru’s hips stuttered, cock twitching inside of you.
“yeah, yeah, yeah— ah god…” warm cum filled you full, some leaking out and dribbling down on the couch. he gave your ass one more struck, and you yelp from the prickling pain.
“satoru?” you mumble, turning your head slightly until he started moving his hips again, leaving you speechless.
he yanks you by the elbow, pinning your back against his chest, whispering against the shell of your ear, “not done yet, doll.”
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GETO
“suguru, please…” you plead, eyes glossed with tears. you’re sitting on top of his lap, cock stretching your walls as his thumb brushed over your clit with lazy circles.
he just hummed, ignoring your pleas as he grabs the pudge of your hips, lifting them up and thrusting up into you, his balls slapping in between your ass cheeks.
you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder all week, all because of you started a petty argument about schedule differences. you knew he was busy, but his lack of communication was what pissed you off. on the other hand, he thought you were being unfair— he never complained when you had to work more hours than normal.
so if his words weren’t enough to get that in your head, then maybe he’ll just fuck it into you.
you rest your chin on his shoulder, hands draped around him as he kept a tight grip on your waist, switching between forcing you down on his cock and ramming into you himself by dragging his hips up and down. he gnaws on your shoulder, engraving your skin with his teeth marks.
“i wonder where you learned how to speak to me like that, love…” he breathes softly. his voice still has that tinge of tenderness in it, but you knew he was at his limit from the way he has that bruising grasp on you.
referring to the demeaning words you called him during your little quarrel the other day, he continues, “would you like it too if i talked to you like that?” when you didn’t respond, he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you into making eye contact with him.
“answer.” his firm remark only turned you on, whining with a frail, “yes please.” at this point you weren’t even angry anymore— you were so needy and frustrated from the denial of release.
he chuckles, a smug smirk plastered across his face, single strands of his raven hair stuck on his forehead. “you really wanna know what i think about you?” he shifts his hips ever so slightly, knowing damn well it pushes you further into orgasm.
sighing, he cupped your cheek with his palm. “whore.” he tapped your cheek with force, not enough that it was painful, but it was degrading with no question. “slut.” he slaps your face again and grabs your cheeks, your lips puckering from the pressure.
he jerks up again, feeling him stretch you so deliciously that you couldn’t bare to hold it anymore, and suguru can tell. he clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, “cock hungry filthy girl,” he forces your face down to see with your own two eyes how fucking wet your pussy is for him despite swearing you hated him just hours ago.
letting go of your flustered face, you slurred, “please let me cum, suguru���” asking him in the first place was your first mistake, he only pressed his thumb onto your clit once more, taunting you.
he smiles, feigning innocence. “no.”
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NANAMI
kento is a patient man. he considers himself grounded with his emotions, but something in the air today made him act more crass than he usually would in this situation.
long story short, you were being a little too friendly with gojo during the work dinner where everyone else could see, and it didn’t help that you were defending yourself instead of owning up to it when he brought it up on the way home.
it was embarassing for him— made him seem like a little bitch that some other man had his arm around you, whispering jokes against your ear while you giggled foolishly as if your husband wasn’t sitting across from you.
so you should’ve seen it coming that he wouldn’t just leave you off the hook when you got home.
it wasn’t long until your clothes are scattered all over the master’s bedroom, legs pinned against your chest as he pummeled into you, wet cunt clenching around him like you wanted this to happen.
the sheets were stained with puddles and splatters of your sweet release, his thighs and your pussy coated with a mix of his cum and your slick.
one, two, three, four orgasms? you couldn’t even count anymore. your cunt was drooling, stuffed full with his cum, it was impressive how he’s still drilling into you with such ease.
kento is pushing on the back of your thighs to keep your pussy wide open, your wrists bounded with his leopard tie that coiled around the headboard railing. “hah-“ he grunts, “dirty girl. you have no idea how much i wanted to fucking kill that idiot for even touching you.” he grits his teeth when he felt your walls squeeze onto him, his sweat dripping from his forehead down to your tummy.
your mind was so blank, every degrading word he’s saying seemed stifled, apparent by your eyes knocking to the back of your head and the drool trickling down the corner of your lip. the only thing leaving your mouth were moans of his name and curses, you were starting to see stars as the pit of your abdomen tightened, a sign that you’re close.
“kento— i- hahhh—” your attempt on a warning had no purpose as clear liquid gushed out of you, and the shock of your release rippled throughout your body, leaving you numb. kento only fucked into you deeper and rougher, his fat veiny cock pressing against your cervix.
“squirted again?” he’s laughing, followed by a groan when he felt that familiar twitch on his cock. “do you think gojo can make you squirt for him like this, hm?” that question was just plain vulgar, but he’s expecting an answer nonetheless.
you hold onto the silk restraining you, sniffling, “no… only you, sir.” your loving, tired tone only put him in the state of euphoria, closing his eyes shut as cum coated your cervix, keeping himself plugged into you.
as he pulled out, thick ropes of white, viscous fluid leaked out your hole and down your ass, taking a dollop to shove it in your mouth. you willingly take his fingers in between your lips, licking him clean.
you thought he was done this time— until he brought the fingers that were in your mouth down to your lower extremities, caressing your clit as he slid himself inside you once more. you sigh, “kento— i don’t think i can anymore…” every muscle in your body felt sore, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to say that word to indicate you want this done and over.
he pretended he didn’t hear your pleas, rasping as he pried your legs further apart, resisting your reflex to close them, “remember this when you decide to fucking flirt with another man again, slut.”
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TOJI
this has to have been the third or fourth breakup in a span of 2 years dating this man. it just proved that you weren’t compatible for each other and the differing types of communication you two were comfortable with were clashing in the worst ways possible.
you were over it and decided to end it officially— for good.
however, toji wasn’t ready to let you go that easily.
his familiar black sedan was parked on the curb in front of your house when your first date after being finally single dropped you off. and of course, trying to stand your ground, you tried to tell him that you were done. to leave you alone or you’ll call the authorities.
but as they say, old habits die hard.
somehow you both ended up in his back seat, bouncing on his cock like you weren’t just trying to kick him out your driveway.
how else would have this toxic relationship lasted this long anyways if it wasn’t for the sex?
he chuckles, your nipple squeezed in between his lips, “what were you trying to say again? you’ll get a restraining order?” you were holding onto the handle of the car door for leverage as he groped your tit and smacked it, fascinated at the way it jiggled.
you hiss at the sting, “stop talking.” your collarbones were still littered with his love marks from previous nights and he notices them, “did your date even get a kiss tonight?” he teases as he took a chunk of your ass, manipulating your hips to move swifter in speed.
it was difficult to talk when he keeps slamming you down to the base of his cock, the sound of your slick smacking on his pelvis. “god— what is it— to you?” the incoherence with your words only provoked a laugh out of your ex, he thought it was funny how desperate you were trying to move on when it’s obvious you’d always go back to him at the end of the day.
you bite your lower lip, worried that someone outside could hear, but would that really help when the way his car is shaking gives it away?
he sneers, pulling your shoulder to draw you against his chest, face so close to his that you can feel his breath. with one last thrust, you yelped, keeping the head of his cock nestled deep in your cunt. “it’s just sad, babe.” he pouts, “you didn’t even bother to invite that bastard inside your house and instead would rather fuck your ex? was the date that bad?”
your mind was hazed, nodding before reaching in for a longing kiss, toji smirking against your lips. the date wasn’t bad at all but it was kind of a dud too— it just didn’t hit the same. nothing can compare to this.
he struck your ass once before gripping onto it again, moving your hips in accordance to his thrusts, tears welling up in your eyes as his cock jabbed against your sweet spot over and over. pulling away from the kiss, you chant his name like a mantra, “toji, fuck, mm- m’ gonna cum”
toji grunts, “okay, love. make a mess on my cock.” the familiar rasp in his voice was what set you off, and he was waiting for you to recuperate a bit from your orgasm before pulling your hips down once more, cock balls deep as he emptied himself inside of you.
toji curses and moans your name as you lean down for another wet kiss, feeling his cum pool in the pit of your stomach.
parting, he breathes, “still thinking of getting that restraining order?”
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CHOSO
choso already wasn’t having a good day for some odd reason. maybe the weather? didn’t matter either way. and of course, being the sweet girlfriend that you are, you tried your best to distract him from whatever was bothering him.
when warm food didn’t work, you tried turning on the tv, seeking for some sort of entertainment. well— you could say it worked in his favor, not because of what was on the screen, but because the boring ass movie was what brought you to the present.
your panties were peeled to the side as choso freely slid his long cock in and out of your hole with ease, his sweats just hanging below his waist, moaning at how warm you are around him. “oh yeah- mm- feels good,” he reveres, whimpering as he hovered over your face.
choso almost never initiates sex— you usually do, but oh does it feel ten times better when he’s pent up and uses you as an outlet to take his stress out on.
your facial expression was scrunched, pursing your lips from how deliciously you were being split in half. choso had one of your legs over his shoulder and him leaning down, which pushed your leg closer to your chest— allowed his cock to plunge into you in angles unimaginable, leaving your jaw hung open.
choso’s mauve eyes were piercing onto yours as he collects saliva in his mouth, then sticks his tongue out, the globe of his spit making it straight down your mouth. he forces your mouth close, “swallow, pretty.” watching you as his saliva made its way down your throat.
you caress his cheek, “use me, choso.” if this is what gets him out of whatever negativity he’s feeling then you’re willing to let him take it out on you.
pecking him on the small of his cheek, he sits up, finding leverage by grabbing onto your tits, groping on them while he thrusts into you with more impact, apparent by the sinful slapping noises that followed. you tuck your chin in to get a closer look of how he’s stretching you, watching as his spit lands on your clit, using two of his fingers to rub it in, reveling at the way its so puffy and just… so wet.
his other hand skimmed from your tit to around your neck, the pads of his fingers pressing on the side, making sure he doesn’t restrict your airways completely. he’s so fucking turned on by the way your face looks, eyes half lidded, lips swole and tinted from biting onto them so much.
you whine, voice faint from the hand around your throat. “so deep…” your leg was still over his shoulder, his cock hammering into you and right up against your g-spot.
“fuck, that’s it— take me in just like that, fuck—“ he was nearing his release, holding it in so you could go first, rushing through your orgasm by swiping your clit as he slacked his hips to give himself time. always so sweet even when handling you like this.
you were so cock drunk that your vision went stark, a huge weight lifting off your body when you let it all out, your slippery cunt making it easier for choso to go ahead and lodge his cock deep enough to jam his cum in, with the intent of not leaving a drop wasted.
he keeps himself wedged inside you, letting go of your leg and neck, tapping at your clit with his fingers for one last tease. you stuck your tongue out, choso grabbing your tear stained face.
“did that feel good, baby?” he asks and you nod sheepishly, unable to speak from his hold and your aching throat.
another ball of spit landed on your tongue and you swallow with that vulnerable look on your face. he chuckles, “what a nasty girl.”
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yandere-daydreams · 7 months
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Title: Captured.
A Continuation of This Piece.
Pairing: Yandere!Geto x Reader x Yandere!Gojo (JJK).
Word Count: 3.3k.
TW: AFAB!Reader, Dub/Con -> Non/Con, Implied Kidnapping, Oral Sex, Threesomes, The Pervasive Aire of Homoerotica, Slight Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, Violence, Intimidation, and Biting. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
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He let you wait outside while he booked a room. It was a test, obviously – to see if you’d try and run as soon as he let you out of his sight. You didn’t. You kept your back pressed against the peeling cement wall and your hands in your pockets as the man at the front desk screamed, as you listened to the slick sounds of carnage and Geto’s muffled laughter. By the time he came out, his clothes dotted with dark stains and his hands lathered in the same dripping scarlet, you thought you might’ve been too sick for whatever he wanted to do with you.
He held up a hand, two keys and their accompanying plastic tags hanging from each finger. “Pick a number, one through ten.”
You just wanted to get this over with. Then, you wouldn’t have to worry about monsters or mysterious men or any of this ever again. “Eight.”
“Oh, the honeymoon suite.” Your eyes widened, and he cocked his head to the side. “Kidding, kidding. That’ll have to wait, for now.”
The room was nicer than you’d expected. Not quite the oppressively beige monstrosity you’d feared, but not as far from the eye-bleedingly pink love hotel that’d be the permanent backdrop in your worst nightmares as you would’ve liked. Currently, you were sitting on the edge of a king-sized bed with faux-velvet sheets, staring at your feet as Geto washed his hands in the in-suite bathroom. So lost in your own spiraling thoughts, you didn’t notice the water shutting off, didn’t hear him approaching you until the mattress dipped at your side and a pair of hands came to rest on either side of your waist. In one smooth, effortless motion, you were hauled into his lap, left to balance on his thigh as his eyes raked over you unabashedly. “You should try to relax. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were afraid of me.” His hand fell to the hem of your sweater. You’d gotten dressed in a blind panic after waking up to an apartment crawling with those awful things, but now, you regretted not throwing on as many layers as you could, not putting as many barriers as you could between yourself and the feeling of his calloused fingers skirting over your skin. “I can help take the edge off, if you’d like.”
For the first time that day, you felt a spark of relief. “Do you have anything? I’m alright with pills.”
“I was thinking something more along the lines of…” His hand splayed over your stomach, his tone laced with a dark edge. “Choking you until you black-out, then having my way with your helpless body?”
“Oh.” Just as quickly, that spark was extinguished – crushed under an unforgiving heel and stamped into total nonexistence. “I… I think I’d rather be awake, thank you.”
He hummed, tapping two fingers against your hip. “Have it your way, little one.”
Without warning, you were thrown onto the center of the bed. Before you could haul yourself up, before you could fully realize what was going on, Geto was between your open legs, mouth latched onto the inside of your thigh and his hands tearing at your shorts. The flimsy material gave away easily, and your panties didn’t last much longer. You took back what you’d said about wearing less revealing clothes; making this take any longer than it already did would’ve been torture. As deftly as he worked, the knot of dread forming in your chest was faster, quickly overshadowing every rational thought you might’ve had in favor of telling you that you weren’t supposed to be here, that this was dangerous, that you didn’t know what was going on, that you—
His broad tongue laved over your now-exposed slit, and your panicked mind went completely blank. His mouth was hot, and he didn’t waste time, latching onto your clit and sucking before you could think to push him away. Your body, nerves fried by adrenaline and senses dialed up to the point of hypersensitivity, responded immediately, your back arching as you struggled to swallow back a fractured moan. He encouraged your reactions, laving over your clit as two of his fingers found their way to your now-dripping entrance.
His digits slipped into you without resistance, scissoring apart and splitting you open as your own hands balled around the sheets, as you locked your jaw into place and did what little you could swallow back any sounds that’d make you seem more pathetic than you already were. Your pitiful attempts at resistance earned a throaty chuckle that reverberated against your clit and made your thighs clench together. Vaguely, in the distance, you felt his hand curl around your ankle, then you were being bent in half, your legs thrown over his shoulders as he ate you out like a man starved. It was all you could do to keep your eyes shut, the tears that would’ve escaped otherwise safely locked away, to make sure you didn’t kick or thrash or do anything that’d make him decide you’d be more entertaining after you’d been half-mauled by one of his monsters. It was all you could do to keep your mind blank, to block out the terrible, wet noises rising up from between your thighs, to—
The door creaked as it swung open, and you scrambled to pull away from Geto, to cover yourself before someone saw you being brought to the brink of climax by a murderer. He held you in place, though, his grip turning vice-like as he kept you splayed-open and on-display for the familiar, white-haired stranger now standing in the doorway. “Satoru,” Geto started, still idly pumping his fingers into you. “How kind of you to join—”
He didn’t get a chance to finish. You closed your eyes, and when you opened them again, Gojo had him pinned to the far wall, a small crater blown into the cement where the point of collision would’ve been. You could see an orb of blinding, blue light forming in his other hand, but Geto only clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Keep your dick in your pants, pervert,” he purred, eyes flitting to you. “There are innocents nearby.”
The orb of light disappeared, but Gojo didn’t move. “I don’t mind getting my hands dirty.”
You watched a first form at Geto’s side, watched in a daze as his knuckles collided with Gojo’s cheek with enough force to send him flying across the room and into the side of the bed, fracturing the steel frame. “Me neither, ‘toru.”
Letting out a ragged exhale, Gojo pushed himself to his feet and their conversation devolved into a rush of blows and kicks and insults half-finished before Gojo’s fist collided with Geto’s chin or Geto caught Gojo’s throat in his teeth. Clothes were torn, blood spilled across cheap carpeting, and you blinked once, twice, before shaking your head and hauling yourself up and taking stock of the situation.
They were fighting. Eventually, one of them would probably win, and that winner would probably want to fuck you. Maybe, after that, one of them would also help you. Maybe.
Gojo caught Geto’s hair in his fist and pulled. You could’ve sworn you heard Geto moan.
Okay. Alright. Yeah. No. Fuck this, actually.
Slowly, careful not to make a sound, you stood up and pulled your sweater down to cover your still dripping cunt before inching towards the door which was, surprisingly, still in one piece (it would dawn on you later that Geto must’ve left it unlatched, if not open, much to your delayed mortification). You could figure something else out. There were two other people who knew about your monsters, which meant there must’ve been at least one more. Gojo had been wearing a uniform, when you first met him, running for your life from the mangled mess of teeth and claws that’d managed to sink its talons into you, and you thought you’d heard him mention a school. You could find someone else, someone who wouldn’t ask for sex, someone who wouldn’t know your name before you introduced yourself, someone who’d give you a protective charm or a talisman and then demand for money or unpaid labor in return. You could—
It felt like vertigo, like the surface of the Earth had shifted underneath you. Your body tilted, collapsed, and then Gojo’s arm was wrapped around your waist, his chest pressed into your back and his fingers burrowed into the flesh of your side. “Trying to get away?” His voice was raspy. Geto must’ve gotten his throat. “That’s not very nice.”
“You were the one who burst in uninvited and distracted me,” Geto muttered. His lip was busted, and he cracked his nose back into place as he hauled himself up from the floor. “If you hadn’t interrupted us, they’d still be cumming on my tongue so adorably.”
Gojo didn’t seem to pay him any mind. His attention remained fixed on you, his free hand drifting to your vulnerable pussy. Using his thumb, he gathered some of the slick staining your inner thighs, toying with it as he spoke. “I thought the first time I touched you like this would be more romantic.” He paused, his ears ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Or, the first time I touched you while you were awake, at least. It… it got harder to control myself, toward the end.”
You snapped to Geto, teeth bared. “This wasn’t what we agreed to. I don’t want to—”
“Don’t talk to him.” His fingers slipped into you, curling against the walls of your cunt. Your breath hitched in your chest, and Gojo pressed a fleeting kiss into your cheek. “Don’t look at him. He’s not supposed to be here.”
“I could say the same thing about you, Satoru.” Stretching his back, he made his way back to the bed and collapsed onto it, letting out a strained groan. “If I hadn’t been so kind as to donate all of those very valuable, very hard-to-come-by curses to your pitiful cause, you would’ve waited… how long? Another year before so much as breathing the same air as your little crush?” His half-lidded stare met yours, and he smirked. “You should have a taste. The poor thing is heavenly when they’re scared.”
“He’s always been this bossy. I’m sorry you had to deal with him on your own.” Gojo drew back, but didn’t let you go. Rather, he looped an arm under your knees and pulled you off your feet, carrying you back to that fucking bed. He laid you out with more care than Geto had, but his expression remained uncannily blank. He’d been blindfolded the first time you’d met, and whatever eyewear he’d come with had been either removed or torn away, revealing eyes that were almost painfully blue. The only mercy was his hair – long enough to fall over his face and obscure his empty gaze, his parted lips. His hand drifted to your injured leg, still bandaged from the knee down, and his lips quirked downward. “I’m sorry you had to get hurt, too. But…” He smiled, leaned in until his forehead rested against yours. “It’s good that we’ll get to be together, right?”
You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell him to stop touching you, to let you go home, but you couldn’t go home, so you said nothing.
Geto let out an exaggerated yawn. “I didn’t put this little reunion together because I wanted to hear you talk, ‘toru.”
“See what I mean? So fucking bossy.” And yet, one of his hands fell away from you. You heard fabric rustle, metal clink, and then his cock was free, prodding against the inside of your thigh. You could feel your heart drop into your stomach as your eyes broke away from his and raked over his pale shaft, his flushed head, already leaking beads of ivory precum. He was tall. They were both massive, but nothing attached to a human being should’ve been that big. “You’re lucky I’m letting you watch.”
“Who said I’d be watching?” So preoccupied by your own terror, you didn’t notice Geto shifting until you felt his hands on your sides, then at the hem of your sweater, pulling your only remaining protection over your head. You scrambled to stop him, but there wouldn’t have been much you could to do fend him off at your best, let alone in the state you’d been reduced to tonight. With a breathy chuckle, he finished stripping you down, his attention immediately falling to your chest. “You wouldn’t want me leaving you alone with him, would you, little one?” He bowed his head, catching your nipple with his teeth and pulling harshly. A pained whine slipped past your lips before you could choke it back, and he turned towards Gojo, grinning. “See? They like me.”
Whatever rage Gojo felt, he managed to bury it beneath a soft smile, a pulse of pure electricity in his eyes as he took his cock in his hand, dragging the tip over your entrance. You thrashed, kicked, fought, but he only cooed as he thrust into you, like he was trying to comfort you. Like you would need to be comforted if he just stopped.
He bottomed out, his hips pressing into yours with a blissful sigh, and you lurched forward, moving to claw at his eyes, to wrap your hands around his throat, to do something. Geto caught your wrists before you could so much as touch him, though – laughing as he forced your arms flush against the mattress. As Gojo started to move in earnest, Geto slotted his lips against yours, taking advantage of your distress to force his tongue into your mouth while Gojo fucked you open, whatever gentleness he’d been attempting to show you falling away in favor of burying himself that much deeper in your tight heat. As soon as Geto pulled away, Gojo took his place, his kiss not quite as aggressive but no less invasive, no less unwelcome. You should’ve never left your apartment. You should’ve never run from your monsters. At least they might’ve been kind enough to kill you quickly.
By the time he broke away from you, your vision was spotted with black, your lungs aching from a lack of oxygen. Jerkily, he straightened his back and raised a hand, his fingers soon tangled in Geto’s hair. You watched in a daze as teeth clashed against teeth and lips collided with a bruising force, and considered the terrifying possibility that you might’ve been the first person either of them had ever kissed.
Gojo’s pace turned erratic, his hold on your hip crushing. His pelvic bone caught on your clit every time he thrust into you. You’d been able to control yourself when faced with Geto’s teasing, but now, every little cracked moan and pained whimper slid past your lips, barely audible above the sound of slick squelching and skin slapping against skin. Unwillingly, you clenched around him, and Gojo doubled over with a throaty groan, burying his face in the side of your neck. You felt his mouth on your throat, then his teeth, sinking into your skin deep enough to draw blood. You clenched your eyes shut, willing your body to go numb to the pain, to ignore the coil of pure agony winding tighter in your core, but Geto caught your chin, forcing you to tilt your head back and stare up at him. “Trying to run away again so soon?”
“S-stop,” you half-sobbed, trying to pry his hand away from your face. “Don’t touch me—”
“We’ll have to bring a gag along, next time. That is, unless you learn to be more appreciative.” He shrugged his sweatpants below his waist, wrapping his fist around his cock and guiding it to your lips. “Open up, little one.”
You grit your teeth, keeping your mouth shut as tightly as you could, but Gojo bit down on your collarbone and you screamed, jerking against him. Geto took advantage of your misery, slipping a thumb into your mouth and prying your teeth apart, forcing his cock down your throat. “Bite down,” he muttered, voice low and tone sharpened, “and I’ll make sure he knocks you up.”
A wave of cold dread washed over you, but you didn’t have time to linger on your newly realized fear. Geto was already fucking your skull, already leaving you struggling not to choke as you tried to remember how to breathe around him. Where Gojo was uncontrolled, Geto almost seemed… unaffected, holding your head in place while he rolled his hips with the idle pace of a man determined to milk every second he could out of you. It was unbearable; the burning in your throat, the heat in your core, the feeling of Gojo battering into your cunt until you couldn’t stop your legs from twitching, your back from arching, your pussy from clenching around Gojo’s length and drawing a sinful noise from somewhere deep in his chest. You let out a ragged moan half-suffocated by Geto’s cock, and then you were coming undone around him, your body convulsing underneath his. Gojo wasn’t far behind. With a hitched groan, he pressed his hips into yours and pushed another open-mouthed kiss into your neck, making no attempt to pull out before flooding your pussy with something thick and awful.
Geto wasn’t far behind, his eyes falling shut as he came down your throat. For the longest time, neither of them moved, Geto forcing you to choke down every last drop of his cum while Gojo stare down at you, eyes blank and lips parted, his expression caught somewhere between tender and awe-struck.
Finally, he glanced away from you, looking to Geto instead. “Let’s switch. I want to feel their mouth.”
Geto let out a breath of a chuckle. With your body limp, your jaw slack, he pulled away from you, leaning just close enough to let his lips brush against your temple before straightening his back and moving to take Gojo’s place between your legs. “Whatever you say, lover boy.”
~
Hours later, when your skin was little more than a patchwork of hickeys and bruises and you couldn’t feel anything save for a constant, excruciating ache in your cunt, Geto had fallen asleep with his arm around your waist and Gojo laid next to you, head propped on his fist and a soft smile painted across his lips. You could see the sun starting to rise from behind the thin motel curtains, feel the dread that accompanied being in a strange place with strange men at a strange time, but it all seemed secondary, pushed to a distance by your exhaustion, your devastation. When Gojo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you out of Geto’s hold, all you could summon was a whine of protest, and even that was quickly glazed over with an airy laugh, a quiet hush.
Geto’s shirt (discarded three hours in, when he stepped aside for a shower while Gojo made you cum on his tongue for the fourth time) was pulled over your head, Gojo’s glasses (lost in the initial fight, found briefly while Geto was bouncing you on his cock with one hand and jerking Gojo off with the other, then lost again) snagged off the floor and pocketed. As he slipped out of the beaten motel door, you shut your eyes against the dim light, burying your face in his chest, and he encouraged you to, cupping the back of your neck as he pressed a kiss into your forehead. With his lips still lingering against your skin, he spoke, his voice muffled by his proximity. “It’s alright. You can sleep, if you need to.”
It might’ve been sweeter, if you hadn’t been able to feel every inch of his smile cutting into your skin.
“I promised I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?”
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sparklovespink · 2 months
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ENHA HYUNG LINE!--- fucking the attitude out of you
18+, slut shaming, hair pulling, skirt in jay's part, mascara mention, fem!reader
⠀⠀ ⠀myslut masterlist
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HEESEUNG's seen your bad attitude before, he doesn't think he's ever had to deal with it himself. he's already had a bad day and he's not going to be putting up with you! he's more stern than he is mean, commanding voice coming in as he talks to you, makes you seem so small. "i think you can take a little more , yeah?" he groans, slowly fucking his cock into your cunt.
he takes his time with you, dragging it out despite your protest for him to go harder, faster. "not the time to be making demands baby." he says, hand grasping your waist firmly. has you a sobbing mess by the time he really starts fucking you, deep strokes. you're blurry eyed, telling him it won't happen again. "aww, you're sorry now?" still rocking his hips into yours at that slow pace. he wants to destroy your cunt too, but you look so pretty like this. "c'mon baby, just a little longer."
JAY has about had it with you. he has so much leniency when it comes to you, or usually he does; you're basically his princess. this man cooks for you, massages you. but the way you've been talking to him today? teasing him and talking to him about other guys? oh you're fucking in for it.
the second he's fed up, he's pulling you into the nearest private spot he can find. bathroom, fitting room, a fucking cleaning closet. bends you over and lifts your skirt up, presses you against a wall, runs his hands over your ass cheeks and pulls your panties to the side. he's so rough when he fucks into you, grunting "you just needed my cock, fucking slut? you go stupid without it, huh?" he's so fucking mean, bullying you and pounding your cunt. and even when you hit your climax, creaming on his cock, he's still going. "oh don't think we're done because you came baby."
JAKE isn't exactly sure how to deal with you being a brat. you've never been like this with him before, and it has him thinking it's because of something he's done. maybe he didn't fuck you hard enough, huh. so instead he's fucking you stupid the next time he sees you.
pushing you against a surface and peeling your panties off, and grabbing your thighs. he's kissing you, entangling his fingers with yours. "gonna make you feel good, okay?" he says, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin. the second his cockhead pushes between your wet folds he's whimpering, speeding up the pace of his thrusts. he's not even sure if this is for you or for him at this point. "'m sorry baby. fuck, need you to be a good girl again, kay?"
SUNGHOON doesn't have time to deal with you being a brat! he's so simple about it—same punishment everytime. he tells you to open up, sees the way you look at him with shiny eyes before shoving his cock inside your mouth. doesn't stop even when there's tears streaming down your face, murmuring a little, "someone needs to shut you up." he knows you're getting off to it to, sees the way your own hips are bucking against air.
"you just love been treated like a slut, huh?" he hums, grip are your hair holding you still. you're gagging, mascara now powdered on your cheeks and he loves it. loves how messed up you look below him on your aching knees. "aww, baby your makeup got all messed up. gonna do it on my lap later?" he can't wait to have you sit prettily for him, let him have his way with you then too.
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another-lost-mc · 9 months
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a/n: the younger brothers and dateables will be coming later, I didn't want this post to get too long.
size kink feat. the older brothers
nsfw (suggestive and explicit) | 1.5k words | gn!reader
content warnings: implied short reader and size/strength kink (is that a thing? it is now.) slight predator/prey kink and demon form mentioned (lucifer); ab riding/face sitting/reader on top (mammon); being a perv, blowjobs (levi).
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LUCIFER
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realization
Lucifer really notices your height—or lack thereof—the first time you stand up against him. You cross your arms over your chest and glare at him in defiance, voice raised in defense of his troublesome siblings and arguing against the punishment he decided for them. He always wondered how long it would take for you to finally break through that passive shell of yours. It's lovely to finally feel some pride radiating from you too, and it makes you even more enticing. Unfortunately, he'll have to savor this moment later—he still has an image to uphold, and he's not going to be dressed down publicly by someone so small. He meets your anger with his own authoritative stubbornness, a clash of wills that will inevitably end in your surrender like all your other disagreements with him in the past. He bends at the waist so that his face is directly in front of yours, your noses nearly brushing as he smirks.
"Care to repeat that for me one more time? I couldn't hear you all the way down here."
nsfw
Some nights when Lucifer takes you to bed, he scoops you into his arms and carries you over the threshold to his room while you melt against his chest. Other nights you skirt out of his gasp and dart away, teasing him with a little thrill of the hunt. Your playful taunts echo in the halls and lust surges through the blood that pumps in his veins. All he has to do is follow your scent and you're his. It doesn't matter how much of a head start he gives you because the chase ends the same way every time: being lifted into his arms and tossed on his oversized bed. You bounce on the mattress and barely have time to catch your breath before he's suddenly on top of you and caging you underneath him. His hands fist the sheets on either side of your head and his facial features blur when he leans down, eager to capture your lips as his hard-earned prize. Once he's peeled away your clothes—or ripped them off, depending on how long you teased him with your little game—he can finally smother your soft, naked body with his own. He positions you whatever way he likes: easily raising your hips to meet his steady thrusts, or pushing back on your thighs when he folds you in half and buries himself even deeper in the soft, tight heat of your body. His raven-black wings unfurl at his back and block everything else from sight. The feathers twitch with pleasure and brush against the sides of your body. You're completely enveloped by him—all you can see in the dark canopy of his embrace is his smoldering ruby eyes and his lips curling around the shape of your name when he comes.
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MAMMON
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realization
Mammon is used to running away from things: his problems, his debt collectors, Lucifer. He's fast and slippery and hard to catch. When you become his unofficial partner in crime, he expects you might have some trouble keeping up—you're only human, after all—but damn, can't you run just a bit faster? When you both stop to catch your breath, or rather when he stops so you can catch your breath, you complain about his long legs and demonic stamina, blah blah blah. He knew you were short, but are you that much shorter than him? You lean against the wall for support while you wait for the burning in your lungs and legs to ease up, completely oblivious to the way his eyes rake up and down your body. He glances at his hands and back to your legs. Y'know, I bet I could wrap my whole hand around those thighs, and—
nsfw
Mammon feels like he's giving control to someone else when he takes you to bed. You hold so much wicked power over him, and the fact that you're so much smaller makes the sensation even more intoxicating. You squirm nervously in his lap while his eyes rake over your bare skin and he licks his lips. It's so fuckin' hot for both of you because he gives you this power freely. You can tease him with kisses and grind slowly against his hips, or you can bounce on his cock while you chase your own pleasure and deny him his. Both of you know that within a blink of an eye, he could easily flip you over and fold you in half before he fucks you senseless, or he could put you on your knees and push your shoulders to the mattress for an even deeper angle when he buries himself to the hilt. He could do that if he wanted to, but for now, he can be patient. He strokes between your legs with his thick fingers and stretches you open while you straddle his abs and try not to smear yourself all over his tummy. Maybe if your scent drives him crazy, he'll curl his hands around your thighs and drag you up his body 'til his tongue can flick against your entrance. There's nothing sweeter than the way you whimper his name and tangle your fingers in his hair while he sucks greedily at the slick arousal between your legs. Each tug on his hair makes his cock ache and his resolve starts to splinter. Maybe you're not the one in control, after all.
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LEVIATHAN
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realization
Levi likes the feeling of your body leaning against his when you sit next to each other on the sofa in his room. It's not convenient for gaming—your elbows bump each other and it messes up the controls something fierce—but for watching movies or anime? He doesn't call it cuddling but that's basically what this is. He drapes one of his favourite blankets over both your laps and sometimes there's a bowl of popcorn between you, or you pass a box of candy back and forth to each other. Your head rests against his shoulder and sometimes when he turns towards you, his chin grazes over the top of your head. If you squirm a bit to readjust yourself, he looks over and just happens to peek down the gap of your shirt. He glances away while his face burns bright red because he didn't mean to. Now that he knows how easy it is, it gets harder and harder not to look at the bare glimpses of skin you inadvertently put on display for him. He feels bad and just a little dirty, but he can't help it. He couldn't resist your charms before, why should he try to deny the temptation now? So what if he spends the rest of the movie imagining you in other less-than-innocent ways—he's seen this movie plenty of times. You won't even know he wasn't paying attention, and he can get away with letting his fantasies run wild while you cuddle beside him unaware.
nsfw
Sometimes it's hard to get Levi's attention if he's busy playing games or if he's engrossed in a movie he really enjoys. If one more boss fight turns into two more boss fights, or even three, it's not your fault if you have to resort to dirty tactics. He usually spreads his legs wide when he's at his desk or on his sofa—it's comfortable, and he's used to being selfish with his space and not considering whether his guests need leg room too. It's so convenient that nothing turns him on more than the sight of you sinking to your knees and shuffling between his legs. You look so small kneeling at his feet, and your hands can barely wrap around his cock when you pull it free from the tight confines of his pants and guide the tip into your mouth. You lick over the slit and lap up the pearly beads of precum before sliding your lips down inch by inch. It's the perfect combination of slick heat and tight pressure that makes him dizzy, and you can almost feel the deep, rumbling groan that reverberates in his chest. Each time you bob your head, he pants a little faster and his whines sound a little more desperate—your spit dribbles down his shaft and it eases the glide. It sounds so lewd and hot when you hollow your cheeks and suck on the tip before swallowing him back down. Sometimes his hips jerk up when you flick your tongue just right; you can't fit him all into your mouth and you choke a little when his cock hits the back of your throat. He feels bad because he likes it when you sputter around him, and it's not much longer before he's whimpering your name and spilling his release into your mouth. If he's really lucky, you won't be able to swallow it all and he can watch his cum smear across your mouth and drip slowly down your chin.
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joelsgreys · 1 year
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Just Friends (Javier Peña x Female Reader)
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Part 2
Summary: You’re planning to have sex for the first time and you’re nervous—Javi offers to show you a thing or two, but just as friends of course.
Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader
Warnings/Tags 🏷 18+ only, minors dni. reader is in late 20’s; reader is an agent for the DEA; established friendship, idiots in love lust, overprotective/slightly jealous Javi; Javi is his canon manwhore self, reader is a virgin, talks of virginity loss and her desire for no strings attached sex, a bit of pining and yearning, lots of pet names, a couple insults, friendship fluff; touching, groping, dry humping, reader gets off, Javi does not. I know, I know. I will make it up to him in part dos. this does not follow the timeline of the show accurately, Messina is in the picture, Connie is still around. reader is bilingual, no descriptions of her race or ethnicity mentioned though. *translations at the end.
Word Count: 7.9k
A/N: This took me forever to edit and post because I’m scared lmao.
thank you to @cutesyscreenname for encouraging me to write this idea. I owe you cherry gansitos!
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You observed your own reflection in the full length mirror in front of you and let out a curious little hum as you lifted the short, scarlet red minidress, holding it right up against the length of your body. You then held up the second dress that you had clutched in your opposite hand, a stunning, satin black midi number whose length was a lot longer than the first option, the hem of it falling down to your calves.
It appeared rather innocent, modest enough while it was still on the plastic hanger, but it fit you beautifully, just like a fucking glove. The bodice of the garment cinched at your waist and it was tightly fitted, hugging the curves of your upper body so closely that it looked and even felt like something of a second skin whenever you wore it. The billowy skirt of the dress flowed out around you, darling and sweet at first glance, however it came with a borderline dangerous slit in the side of it that stopped about two or three inches above the middle of your thigh near the hinge of your hip. It exposed the entire length of your leg whenever you walked, danced, or moved around in it—Murphy had once referred to it as the infamous femme fatale dress, telling you that it was a far, far more dangerous weapon than your gun could ever be. 
You were fairly certain his remarks had something to do with the fact that you’d worn the dress on a number of different occasions while you were out on the job, going undercover in Bogotá for the US Drug Enforcement Administration. 
As the only female agent on her team in Colombia and a younger, very beautiful female agent at that, Messina found herself using you to her advantage quite often these days. She would send you out all over Bogotá in that very same black dress with the hope that it would aid you in luring in members of the Medellín drug cartel in efforts to capture their leader, Pablo Escobar.
Tonight, however, you weren’t going undercover.
You were doing something much more frightening than mingling among some of Colombia’s most dangerous men. 
Far, far more daunting than that.
You were going out on a date. 
“I like the red dress the best,” Javier’s deep voice came from behind you, startling you slightly. He had mentioned to you earlier that day that he was going to some lounge with Murphy for a smoke and some drinks after work hours since it had been a long, draining week for him at the office; Messina had stuck him with an endless amount of tedious paperwork to do and it had just about driven him insane, but nothing a pack of cigarettes and some bourbon couldn’t fix. With the soft, Latin cumbias playing from the old stereo perched on top of the white oak dresser beside you, you had completely missed the sound of the front door opening and closing when he’d gotten home.
You glanced over your shoulder to see him standing there in the open doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. Javier’s dark brown eyes were fixed intently on you, a small, devilish smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he casually leaned up against the door frame of your bedroom. Well, technically, it was actually the guest bedroom of his apartment unit that he’d let you take over several months ago. The housing department of the agency had placed you into a unit in the building across the street from his, right next door to Murphy and his wife, Connie. It had been a special arrangement requested by your diligent supervisor in an effort to make sure that no one found themselves in a compromising situation—she trusted you enough not to get any dumb ideas, but she didn’t trust Peña as far as she could throw him. It wasn’t very far.
While it had certainly been quite nice, and even kind of comforting at times to have Steve and Connie as your neighbors, you’d expressed to Javier one night over dinner at his place that you weren’t all too fond of having to live alone. Without an ounce of hesitation on his part, Javi offered to have you move into his spare bedroom that very same evening after you were both done eating, but only on the condition that Messina didn’t find out about the new living arrangement. She would wring Javier’s neck with her bare hands if knew that you two had been sharing his apartment this entire time. 
Hell, she would wring yours too. And you were the favorite child of sorts. Less annoying than Murphy and certainly a lot less problematic than Peña. 
She only liked you because she never had to worry about you. On or off the job.
But even though you were Messina’s number one, her star player, that would do absolutely nothing to spare you from her wrath if she ever came to find out that you were living with Javier Peña. She wasn’t a fan of just how close the two of you had become over the last several months; she’d told you herself that she much preferred it if you kept your distance from him while you were off duty. One wrong move on your part or Javi’s and it was game fucking over. Messina wouldn’t hesitate to send one of your asses packing, back home to be assigned somewhere else, somewhere far away from the other.
Pursing your lips together lightly, you turned your attention back over to the mirror. Raising an eyebrow, you lifted the red minidress up against your body once more to get another good look at it, as if you hadn’t just been staring at it for the last five minutes before he’d appeared. “I don’t know, Javi. I don’t like this one all that much to be honest. I’m not even sure why the hell I let Connie talk me into buying it in the first place. She said it was cute,” You remarked, tilting your head slightly to the side. You wrinkled your nose at the diamond cut out design in the sides of it. Whoever designed it must have not had enough money to spring for more a teensy bit more fabric. “But it’s kind of tacky. And it makes me look like a whore.”
“Mm yes, but a very beautiful whore,” Javi stated, his smirk widening as he drank in the gorgeous sight of you before him. He licked his lips, openly admiring the way you were clad in nothing but one of his shirts, his pink button up with short sleeves that you had once told him you loved so much because it was your favorite color; you’d sneakily stolen it out of his closet on laundry day a couple weeks back while all of your clothes had been in the washing machine and had never given it back to him. Not that Javier even really wanted it back at this point—his shirt looked a million times better on you than ever it did on him. Seeing you in it did inexplicable things to him and he fucking loved it when you padded around your now shared apartment in nothing but a pair of panties and his pink shirt. He took another glimpse at you, nearly foaming at the mouth at how it fit your frame, how the hem of it fell to the tops of your smooth thighs, the material hardly doing anything to cover up the tantalizing curves of your hips and your perfect ass. “Hermosura. The most beautiful whore in all of Colombia.”
You narrowed your eyes at him through the mirror, wishing you had a free hand you could flip him off with. “Gee, thanks for the compliment, Peña. You are always such a fucking charmer, aren’t you?”
“Oh, come on. Solo es una bromita, muñeca. No tienes por qué ofenderte. I’m just messing around with you. You know I don’t think you actually look like a whore—and trust me, I know what a whore looks like,” he responded with a deep and hearty laugh. He uncrossed his arms, allowing them to fall down to his sides as he pushed himself away from the door frame. He sauntered his way further into your bedroom, uninvited. “I’m being serious about the dress, though. Go with the red one. El vestido rojo. It’s perfect. Besides, that color would look gorgeous on you, cariño. I bet it would look almost as good on you as pink does.” He laughed again as he added, “Nice shirt, by the way.”
Your annoyed expression immediately softened into one of guilt. “I’ve been meaning to give you your shirt back,” You told him, sheepishly. “Te lo juro, Javi.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you have,” Javier snorted, waving off the little white lie. He finally forced himself to tear his attention away from you and glanced around, observing the current state of your room instead. It looked like a tornado had hit the inside of your closet; dresses, jackets, and high heeled shoes were strewn all over the place. He wasn’t all too surprised by the mess. He knew you like he knew the back of his own hand by now, and this was typical of you when you were searching for the perfect outfit to wear on a free night out in the city. “I don’t remember you telling me you had any plans tonight, bonita. What’s the occasion? Going out for drinks with the chismosas of the office? Or are you going out for a girl’s night with Connie?”
You momentarily hesitated.
“Actually, I have a date.”
Through the mirror, you saw the smile fade from Javier’s face almost instantly.
Here we go, You thought inwardly to yourself.
“You have a date? With who?” he demanded. 
Reluctantly, you turned around to face him. “You know Valeria, don’t you?”
The color drained from his face.
“That’s the translator who works up on the third floor, right?” He touched his hand to the back of his neck, shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t know her, but I’ve seen her around a couple of times.”
You almost laughed at the manner in which Javier tried playing dumb. 
Of course he knew Valeria. 
He had fucked her three weeks ago.
Javi had tried to keep it on the down low, but loud mouthed Valeria would brag to anyone who would listen all about how Agent Peña had fucked her in her office one evening while they’d been working late together and everyone else had gone home. Not that Javier even needed her services as a translator, he’d just needed an excuse to find himself in her office after hours so he could get his dick wet.
For some strange reason, you felt oddly fucking generous and decided to let Javier have this one, playing along with him and his sheer stupidity. “Yeah, her. She has an older brother who’s visiting the city for a few days. His name is Diego. He’s an immigration attorney who is here on business in Bogotá. She offered to set me up with him,” You explained, keeping everything as brief as possible. “I’m meeting him for drinks tonight.”
Javier frowned. “Have you met him in person?”
“Well no, but Valeria showed me his picture and she told me all about him. It’s not like he’s just some random ass guy I met on the street, Javi. He’s her brother, she advocated for him,” You tried to reason with him, knowing all too well where this conversation was heading. Sure, it was nice to know that Javier cared about you enough to be concerned about you meeting up with someone who was essentially a complete stranger, but it wasn’t like you couldn’t handle yourself. You’d spent many evenings sitting right in the laps of the violent criminals who worked for Escobar—a blind date with a coworker’s brother was nothing for him to make a fuss over. “I really don’t think that I have anything to worry about with him.”
He rigidly shook his head. “Look, no offense to Valeria, but I don’t like the idea of you running around this city at night with some fucking prick that you’ve never even met before. And before you throw all that undercover bullshit at me, just know that it’s not the same thing. You aren’t going out on the job tonight. You’re not going out with your team on standby to watch your back, you’re not going out with me and Murphy armed and ready to jump into action if things head south. What if something happens to you?”
You scoffed and rolled your eyes at the complete and utter ridiculousness of his drama king antics. “Oh, give me a fucking break, Peña. Diego’s not a member of the fucking cartel, he’s a lawyer. And besides that, you’re acting like I can’t take care of myself.”
“Listen, I know damn good and well that you can take care of yourself just fine, muñeca. But still, that doesn’t make me feel any better about this whole arrangement.” Javier’s hands went to his waist and he let out a heavy sigh, shaking his head once again. “I’m going to need to meet this guy before you go out with him. I don’t care whose fucking brother he is—whichever way you try to spin it, the bottom line is that he’s a still a fucking stranger and I want to check him out for myself before I let you go out with him.” He saw the mischievous twinkle in your eyes and peered at you suspiciously. “Please tell me he’s coming to pick you up here at the apartment.”
You laughed. “Of course not, Javi. I’m not stupid. I already knew you would behave like this. I knew you would go straight into overprotective mode, just like you always do. I didn’t want you scaring him off, so I’m taking a taxi cab and we’re meeting up at the bar instead.” You easily clocked the all too familiar glint in his eye and smiled sweetly at him. “And don’t even think about trying to guess which one it is so that you can show up and keep tabs on me the whole night. There are thousands of bars in this damn city and I can promise you that you’re not smart enough to figure out which one we’re going to, Agent Peña.”
Annoyed by the smugness in your tone and the way it was starting to get under his skin, Javier’s lips pressed into a thin, tight line. He watched you walk over to your closet, subtly swaying your hips to the music as you pulled out yet another dress to add to your rapidly growing list of options.
He could feel the envy prickling at each and every last single nerve ending in his entire body, his frustrations stewing at the mere thought of you going out with another man. His jaw clenched and he forced himself to shove the feeling down knowing damn well that he didn’t have the right to be jealous. Not when you two weren’t anything more than just friends.
If you’d just been a coworker, it would be different. 
Javier would gladly, happily, risk mixing business with pleasure as he had so often done in the past with several secretaries—and a translator or two—in his time. But no matter how hard he’d tried over and over again to place you into that box, into that category, he simply couldn’t bring himself to do it.
You weren’t just his coworker, you were his friend.
His best friend.
For as much shit as he gave you, you mattered to him. You were important to him, way too important to ever risk fucking up your friendship by fucking you. 
Still. Javier would be lying if he said he didn’t think about it. He thought about it all the damn time. When he discovered that fucking himself into the palm of his hand and moaning your name quietly over and over again under his breath didn’t quite do the job for him anymore, he would find himself standing outside of your bedroom prepared to say fuck it all and make his move on you. But then it happened every single fucking time without fail—as soon as he lifted his curled fist to knock on your door, he started to remember things. 
He’d remember the way you could so easily make him laugh with your clever and quick witted sense of humor. He remembered all those late nights you two would spend together lounging on his brown leather couch in your pajamas watching old, poorly made slasher films while indulging in the greasiest, unhealthiest takeout Bogotá had to offer. He remembered how you could read him just like a fucking magazine, how you always knew when something was wrong—and how you would always somehow know exactly what to say and do to comfort him whenever he needed it the most.
He would remember how you’d come to feel like his home away from home. 
And then he would drop his hand right back down to his side, whirl around on his heel, and march straight back into his bedroom where he had little choice but to go back to fantasizing about what could never be between you and him.
Snapping himself out of his own train of thought, Javier carefully stepped over the mountains of clothing and shoes on the floor and made his way over to another pile of dresses that were draped over the foot of your bed. He caught a glimpse of the lingerie set on top of them, brand new with the price tag still attached to the fabric; the set was black, made of delicate, see through lace that would leave very little to the imagination when you put it on. He picked up the thong, hooking the thin elastic of it around his index finger. “Something tells me that you’re not planning on coming back home tonight.”
“What are you talking about?” Confused, you turned around and gasped, dropping the dresses in your hands. “Javier!”
“Are these even going to cover anything up?” he teased you with a laugh, his eyes gleaming with pure amusement as they darted between the thong and the lower half of your body. “Falta mucha tela, cariño.”
You rushed up to him and made a dive for the underwear. “Give me those!”
“How come you don’t ever wear anything like this around the apartment, hermosa?” Javi dangled them above your head and out of your reach. “All I ever get to see you in are those cotton panties, the ones with polka dots on them.” He glanced down, getting an eyeful of you and the aforementioned polka dot panties. “Kind of like the ones you’re wearing now—”
“Javier, cut it out!” You placed a hand on his shoulder as the other continued grabbing for the lingerie. “Come on, stop being such a fucking asshole!”
Although he could have easily enjoyed taunting you for hours and hours on end, Javier knew you wouldn’t hesitate to have your knee meet his balls. Not wanting to risk ending up on your floor curled up in pain, he eased up and handed them over to you. 
“Idiota!” You hissed at him, furiously snatching the underwear out of his hand. You stomped over to your dresser and shoved them into the middle drawer, slamming it closed so hard the old stereo nearly went crashing to the floor. “You can be a real fucking douchebag, Peña.”
Javier wasn’t bothered by the insults; he’d grown used to those—however any trace of playfulness vanished as the reality began to set in for him. The reality of you sleeping with another a man tonight. “Wait a minute, are you really planning to fuck the guy?” He didn’t even make the attempt to mask the disappointment that laced his tone. “I mean, you haven’t even met him yet. I didn’t think you were that kind of girl, querida.”
“You sound awful judgmental for someone who brings home a different escort every other fucking week,” You snapped at him, placing your hands on your hips. “Oh, and speaking of escorts, I had the pleasure of meeting Alessandra in the bathroom this morning. She asked if I had a tank top that she could borrow since apparently you got too eager and ripped her shirt off last night.” You tilted your head, squinting at him as he started shuffling uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “If you happen to go back to her for a second round, tell her that I want it back. Washed.”
Javier grimaced, looking down at the floor. “Shit. I thought she would be gone by the time you woke up,” he mumbled, shaking his head. “Lo siento, bonita. I’m sorry.”
You blinked. “Sorry for what?”
He opened his mouth, then clamped it shut.
Javier wasn’t all too sure, actually.
He didn’t have anything to apologize for, not really.
He was a single man who could do as, and who, he pleased.
Yet he still felt like a pile of dog shit knowing you’d encountered Alessandra while he had still been asleep.
You would never admit it, but Javier knew that to some extent, it hurt you to run into the women he would bring home. As if having to hear him railing them on the other side of your bedroom wall for hours wasn’t bad enough, having to meet them the following morning and seeing them half naked with their smeared makeup and disheveled hair from the previous night’s activities only made it so much fucking worse. 
Having read his mind, you sighed and offered him some reassurance. “It’s fine, Javi. We both know that you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” You said, prompting him to look back up at you. You pointed a finger at him. “I do want my shirt back, though. And then maybe I’ll be nice and give you back yours.” 
You expected Javi to scamper off to his room with his tail between his legs in shame. It was what he usually did—he’d avoid you for about a few hours until the dust settled, and then everything would go back to normal. Instead of running off, he stood there and spoke again. 
“Are you really going to have sex with this guy?”
You tried to ignore how disheartened he sounded.
“I don’t know,” You confessed, quietly. “I want to have sex with him, but I don’t know if I’ll actually have the fucking balls to go through with it.”
“Por qué? Estas nerviosa?”
Though Javier hadn’t been poking fun at you, you couldn’t help but feel irritated with him for asking you if you were nervous; because you actually were nervous, and him asking you only made you even more fucking nervous. “And so what if I am a little nervous?” You challenged him, lightly. “Sorry that we’re not all just confidently fucking our way through this city like you are, Peña.”
“When’s the last time you had sex, anyway?”
“None of your fucking business, that’s when,” You quipped.
“That’s not fair.” Javi pouted at you. “You know when the last time I had sex was.”
“Not by choice,” You retorted. “You’re right on the other side of my paper thin wall and I left my Walkman in the office.”
Javi waited expectantly for an answer. He wasn’t going to drop the subject, and you knew that.
“You’re such a stubborn son of a bitch, you know that?” You muttered. Feeling a burning heat flood to your face, you decided to give him just about the most generic answer there was in order to get him off your back. “It was a long, long time ago.”
“Okay, but how long ago?” He pressed, curiously. “Are we talking weeks? Months?”
Your stomach began to churn violently, the hidden secret you’d kept to yourself for your entire adult life now at risk of being exposed. 
“I-I really don’t remember,” You stammered out in response, averting your gaze away from his. “Can we not talk about my sex life, please? Besides, it’s getting late and I still need to take a shower and get ready for my date tonight. So if you would just kindly fuck all the way off, that would be great.”
Javier took a step back and there was a very brief moment where you had been certain you’d just narrowly avoided what could have been a painful, humiliating conversation. However, just as he was about to turn to leave, Javi’s eyes widened as it slowly clicked into place for him. 
“Wait a minute—are you fucking serious?”
You groaned. “Javier, please don’t. For the sake of what’s left of my sanity, please don’t,” You nearly pleaded him, wishing that a large, Twilight Zone style swirling vortex would open up in the middle of your floor and swallow you whole. 
“You’ve never had sex before,” he realized. “Have you?”
Your face felt like it had caught on fire.
Not knowing what to say or even do, you clasped your hands together and wrung them anxiously in front of you. 
Of all the people to find out your secret, it just had to be Peña.
“Cariño, are you really a virgin?”
Surprised, you looked up at him. 
Javi wasn’t teasing you or being a dick about it.
He seemed genuinely perplexed by the fact that you’d never had sex before. Not that it made it any less mortifying.
“Yes,” You admitted, exhaling the breath that you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding in. “I’m a virgin, alright? There, are you satisfied?”
“But how? Going undercover? And informants—”
Despite the circumstances, you couldn’t help but laugh. “I know this might come as a shock to you, but you don’t always have to fuck your informants to get what you need out of them, Peña. It’s not a requirement. I use my brains, not my body.” 
“You’re shaming me for using my body?” he joked lightly, hoping it would further ease the awkward nature of the conversation—for your sake, not his.
“Just a little bit.” You offered him a small, crooked smile and felt your tense shoulders finally begin to relax. “You’re probably going to think it’s stupid or maybe even crazy, but the truth is that I’ve always wanted to wait and give it to the right man. Maybe even to a man that I’m in love with. But with the way my romantic life has been going, it just seems like that’s never going to happen for me.” You shrugged. “I just want to lose it already, Javi. I’m almost in my fucking thirties—either I lose it now, or I may as well throw in the damn towel and join a convent.”
“You would look kind of cute in a nun’s habit,” Javi mused, thoughtfully.
You shot him a glare, but felt the corners of your mouth threatening to turn up into another smile. 
After a long minute, Javier broke the silence that had fallen over the both of you. “So then, Valeria’s older brother is the man you’re going to lose your virginity to? Tonight?”
“That’s the plan. He’s only here until the end of the week. It’d be no strings attached, so it works out perfectly.” You anxiously chewed on the inside of your cheek. “But only if I can find the courage to actually go through with it.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“Not knowing what to do.”
Javier quirked an eyebrow.  “It’s not exactly rocket science, querida.”
You resisted the sudden urge to go up to him and backhand the stupid smirk right off of his face.
“Could you please just take me seriously for one second, Peña?” You huffed out in frustration. “I’m just really fucking nervous about it, alright? What if I can’t—what if I’m not good at it?”
Javi’s bottom lip rolled between his teeth and he stifled his laughter. “Preciosa, you’re being kind of…” He trailed off, trying to choose his next word carefully.
You lifted your chin. “Kind of what?”
“Ridiculous. And before you come over here and start pummeling me to death with those little fists of yours...” He stopped and held up his hands in defense. He took a second or two to let eyes glaze over you from head to toe. “I’m only saying that because you’re fucking gorgeous, muñequita. Any man would be lucky to have a night with you. You have nothing to be afraid of.”
“It’s not about how I look, Javier. It’s about how I perform.” You felt your face grow hot for what had to be the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes. Never did you think this would be a conversation you’d be having with him of all fucking people. “I listen to the way those women you bring home—I hear what they do to you. And I hear how much you like it.”
His lips parted slightly. “And you want to do that to him?”
“I want to make him feel good.”
Javier’s jealously simmered in his veins. But what could he do?
Nothing, that’s what. Just like him, you could do as, and who, you pleased. But if he could just get his hands on you first, at least to some extent, it would help ease the blow. He saw nothing wrong with blurring the lines, so long as he didn’t cross them.
Javi hummed. “If you really want to know how to make a man feel good, I can help you.”
“You can help me?” You repeated. “How?”
“By showing you a thing or two.”
You let out something mixed between a scoff and a laugh.
“I am not having sex with you, Peña.”
He tossed you an innocent look. “That’s not what I was suggesting at all.” He crossed the bedroom and walked over to you, reaching for your hands. He took them in his own and then started pulling you towards your bed. “If you’re really that worried about not knowing what to do, I can give you a few pointers. And calmada, querida. Our clothes stay on,” he reassured you before you could open your mouth to protest. “Just think of it as a friend helping out a friend. There’s nothing wrong with that, right?”
You chewed on your lower lip. “I don’t know about this, Javi.”
Javier’s thumbs softly smoothed across the back of your hands. “You trust me, don’t you?”
“Right now, I’m not so sure that I do.” You paused long enough for him to throw you an exasperated, almost offended look. You rolled your eyes at him and nodded your head. “Yes, of course I trust you, Peña. I trust you with my fucking life. Literally, I put my life in your hands at least once or twice a week.”
“Then let me help you, hermosa.”
You inhaled a deep breath, held it for a moment, then exhaled it softly. “Fine. But remember, our clothes stay on—” You were cut off, all the air leaving your lungs as Javi yanked you forward, slamming you against his chest. You looked up at him, ready to give him a piece of your mind for knocking the wind out of you, but as his eyes met yours, words failed you and all you could do was stare at him like a deer caught in the headlights. 
This could not possibly end well.
And yet here you were, going along with it.
He snaked an arm around your waist, holding your body flush against his. Feeling how tense you had become, stiff as a fucking board, Javi gave you a light shake in an effort to get you to loosen up a bit. “First thing is first, you need to relax. There’s no need to overthink this, cariño. Especially not with me.” He reached up with his opposite hand, letting his index finger feather along your jawline. He then slipped it underneath your chin, lifting it ever so slightly and forcing you to look right into his rich pools of espresso. “I mean it. It really wouldn’t take much for a beautiful girl like you to drive me—I mean, drive him wild.”
You tried your hardest to keep your voice from trembling, but between his touch and being in such close proximity, you were finding it a hell of a lot more difficult than you’d imagined. “Show me, Peña. What drives you—I mean, what’s going to drive him wild?”
“Well, it always starts with the right kiss.”
You quickly shook your head. “Javi—”
“Kiss me.”
Had he lost his fucking mind?
“Have you lost your fucking mind?” You echoed your thoughts
“Just a friend helping out a friend,” Javi reminded you in a murmur. “Remember?”
You should have said no. You should have decked him for even suggesting such a thing.
Instead, you gave him a small nod. You rested your hands delicately on his hard, lean chest and tilted your head upwards, lightly pressing your lips to his for a split second before quickly pulling away.
“There.”
“That was fucking pathetic,” Javier laughed softly, his warm breath fanning over the tip of your nose. “You’re not kissing your abuela, you know.”
You smacked his chest. “Javi! Leave my grandma out of this.”
“You have to kiss a man like you actually want him, querida. Here, allow me to demonstrate.”
Your throat went dry as his grip around your waist tightened. He moved his other hand away from your chin and it went to the back of your neck, gingerly tilting your head up towards his. Your heart hammered almost painfully against your ribcage, beating way too hard and way too fast for him not to feel it against his own chest. You had to silently remind yourself to breathe as Javi inched his face closer to yours, slowly. You knew that he was doing it on purpose, moving an agonizingly glacial pace to allow your anticipation to build; all the while his dark eyes were staring deeply into the depths of your very fucking soul, causing a fire to set ablaze deep in your lower belly.
Your thighs clenched together involuntarily as the tip of his nose skimmed a spot near the corner of your mouth, his lips brushing the underside of your jawline.
God, he was fucking good. 
“Javi…” You uttered his name weakly.
You needed to stop this. Javier was your friend—friends didn’t do shit like this.
Javi sensed your reluctance. “It’s alright, mi vida,” he whispered, uttering an affectionate pet name that he’d never used before. He gave you a small grin as he moved in to finally close the small gap of space between your faces. His lips met yours and every ridiculous cliché of sparks flying and fireworks exploding occurred the moment they did. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, gently coaxing its way into your mouth to begin a slow, sensual dance with yours. Cupping the back of your neck, he tilted your head up a bit further, granting himself better access to your mouth so that he could fully explore it inch by inch. 
There was kissing other men.
And then there was kissing Javier. 
Whimpering, your body melted against his as he swelled your lips with a kiss that was slow and sensual, yet somehow still hungry and possessive at the same time. Javier’s hands travelled down to your hips, his fingers skimming the hem of his shirt that you wore. He took the opportunity to sneak them underneath the garment, allowing them to meet the warmth of your skin. 
Gasping, you jerked back and pulled away from him. 
“Javier!” You squeaked out his name breathlessly, furiously swatting his hands away from your sides. You glared at him. “I thought we agreed, our clothes fucking stay on!”
“Funny, I wasn’t aware that I was taking any of your clothes off.” Javier reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. He then took a step backwards and gestured towards your bed. “Lay down.”
Your mouth fell open at his request.
“W-what?” You sputtered out, your eyes wide. 
“You heard me. Get on the bed and lay down.”
Javi reached down, sweeping your pile of dresses off of the bed and onto the floor. 
“Why? What are you going to do?” You questioned him, shuffling anxiously from one bare foot to the other.
Javier rolled his eyes and let out a small, impatient sigh. “Just do it, hermosa. You can trust me.”
Swallowing harshly, you obeyed him and walked around to the side of your bed, taking a seat. You inhaled another deep breath before bringing your legs up and laying back, your head resting against your decorative pillows. You nervously tugged and pulled at the hem of his stolen pink shirt, trying to cover yourself up as best as you could as you laid there, sprawled out before him; however Javier had other plans. He climbed onto the bed after you, positioning his body so it hovered over yours. He nudged your legs apart with his knee, settling himself right in between your thighs. He grabbed one of your legs and hiked it up around his waist, putting the two of you in a very, very dangerous position. His fingers remained wrapped around your thigh, his touch burning right into your soft flesh as he held your leg in place around him. 
“Don’t be shy, muñequita.” His voice had gone low and husky. He trailed his hand further up your thigh.
He grinned, feeling satisfied with himself when he felt the goosebumps erupt across your skin.
“Shut up, I’m not shy,” You fibbed, prompting him to chuckle.
“Mentirosa.” Javi’s hand abandoned your leg and he brought his hand up to the side of your face to cradle your cheek in his palm. His thumb brushed across your bottom lip. 
“Kiss me,” he commanded, gently. “And this time, kiss me like you mean it.”
You reached up for him with trembling hands and grabbed two fistfuls of his pewter blue, button up shirt. You pulled him down towards you and lifted yourself up slightly off your pillows, crashing your mouth against his. You allowed yourself to finally release any fears that you might have had before and kissed him greedily and with fervor, as if it would be the very last time you’d ever get to kiss Javier Peña—because it very well could be the last time you would ever get to kiss Javier Peña.
You kissed him deeply, going on until your lungs began to burn—you only broke away from him once they started screaming, demanding oxygen. 
Tearing yourself apart from him, you released his shirt and dropped back down onto your pillows, breathlessly asking, “Better?”
“Oh, so much better. Good girl, mi muñequita linda,” he praised, grinning again as he caressed the silkiness of your cheek. He lowered his head and lips ghosted over yours for a moment before he moved them down your neck, feathering kisses to any exposed skin peeking out from underneath his shirt. His hand found your breast and he groaned realizing that you weren’t wearing a bra underneath it. He kneaded the perfect, soft mound of flesh through the thin fabric, rolling your hardened nipple between his fingers. He bucked his hips into yours, causing a loud moan to escape from your lips the second you felt his hardened cock through his tight, light blue jeans. He caught sight of the way you blushed at the sound that he’d elicited from you and his grin widened. “Noises like that? The louder the better. So don’t hold back, preciosa.”
“What else can I do to make you—to make him feel good?”
Javier dipped his face right into the hollow of your neck, thinking it over for a moment. “A woman who takes control can be very sexy. I like it—I bet he’ll like it if you get on top.”
“I think I can do that.” Biting your bottom lip, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him back, sliding yourself out from underneath him. You guided him to lay back onto your pillows and climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. 
Shit. Javier cursed inwardly.
Maybe he’d been in over his head with this idea.
He knew at some point he’d have to stop it from going too far—but would he be able to?
“How do you like it?” You asked him, shyly. This time, you hadn’t bothered to correct yourself. 
You didn’t want to know how to please another man.
You wanted to know how to please Javi.
Even if you’d never get the chance to do it.
“Depends on the mood,” he replied, shrugging his shoulders in the most nonchalant manner that he could muster under the circumstances—as if his cock wasn’t rock hard, straining against the zipper of his jeans and begging to be inside you.
“Te gusta despacito?” You start to rock your hips back and forth against his, slowly. “Do you like it slow?”
Javier’s breath hitched in the back his throat. At this point, there was no doubt about it—you could feel him underneath you, throbbing. “Sometimes,” he managed to choke out in reply. “Like I said. Just depends on the mood.”
“Or what about like this?” You grinned down at him, gaining a sense of confidence as you started to move faster on top of him, finding your perfect rhythm. You could see and clearly feel what you were doing to him. Knowing that you were having this kind of effect on Peña was nothing short of a fucking dream come true. 
His hands went to your hips, holding on as you picked up the pace, grinding your clothed core down against his bulge. 
You could feel your own arousal pooling between your legs, soaking your panties; you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d leave behind a wet spot on his jeans. “How am I doing?”
“Fucking amazing, muñeca,” he answered, earnestly. His long, thick fingers dug into your sides as he suggested, “It helps if you put on a little show while you’re up there, too.” He then pictured you in that sexy black lingerie set you’d bought; he imagined what it would be like to slip that tiny little thong to the side so you could freely ride his cock. The mere thought had him seeing stars.
“A show, huh?” You smirked and popped the top two buttons of your shirt—his shirt—exposing the smooth valley between your breasts to him. “I think I can do that too,” You giggled, pulling the fabric to the side, just enough to give him the tiniest glimpse of the soft curves of your chest but not enough to expose yourself completely. 
“Hermosa,” he couldn’t help but groan out. It took every ounce of strength he had inside him not to reach up and tear his shirt right off of you so he could see all of you. 
You grabbed his hands from your hips and slowly began guiding them all around your body. You started by placing them on your breasts, giving him permission to cop another feel before moving them slowly down the lengths of your sides and placing them on your bare thighs. From there, you picked up Javi’s hands once more and placed them behind you, allowing him to take two generous handfuls of your ass. Your hands then abandoned his and you placed them on his chest, supporting yourself as you continued to roll your hips against his, riding him through his jeans. You tossed your head back and closed your eyes; the friction of your clit against his pelvis even through all the clothes felt like absolute heaven, and you let out a lustful moan that bounced off of your bedroom walls as you continued to drive your hips harder against his own.
Realizing that this was no longer a lesson and you were actually pleasuring yourself, Javier groaned again. He moved his hands back to your hips and found himself bucking his own hips upwards to meet you halfway—he abandoned any and all worries about taking it too far. He wanted you to come. 
He needed to see you come.
“Javi,” You gasped his name, moaning again.
“That’s it, muñeca,” he rasped out. “Just like that, baby. Keep going. What a good girl, what a good fucking girl.”
Any and all common sense had been washed away by pleasure and by your need to reach that sweet, sweet release. 
It was so close. You felt him right there, right between your clothed folds, and all you could do was imagine what it would be like to have his cock fill you up and stretch you completely. 
His name began to slip from your lips, rolling off of your tongue over and over again with such ease.
Your movements fell in perfect sync with his.
You went down, he went up.
You pulled, he pushed.
No doubt about it, Javier was trying to get you off.
Somehow, you find a voice that speaks in between all your pitiful little pants. 
 “J-Javi, maybe we s-shouldn’t—”
Javier quickly sat up and wrapped one of his arms around your waist. He slammed your mouths together, silencing you mid sentence. He thrusted upwards, and you whined into his kiss, rubbing your clit against his bulge even harder. 
The beginning of your orgasm coiled up tightly in your belly, and you knew it would spring forward any second now.
“Javi, I’m so close—” 
“It’s okay, hermosa. Come for me,” he mumbled into your mouth.  “I’ve got you.”
Your arms found their way around his shoulders and you buried your face into his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, your loud cries came out muffled against his collarbone as you unraveled, coming undone with one last cry of his name.
You slumped forward, resting your head on his shoulder as you fought to catch your breath, the pleasure still pulsing between your thighs.
Javier’s other arm curled around you and he said nothing as he held you. 
Once you’d finally started coming down from your high, your eyes flew open and a chill went up the length of your spine.
What had you two just done?
Still straddling his lap, you pulled back. “Javi—”
Without warning, Javier flipped you over so you were on your back underneath him once again. He hovered over you, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he dipped his head and captured your lips with his one final, deep and sensual kiss. 
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about tonight,” he murmured once he had pulled away. “You’re fucking perfect, mi vida.”
He touched the tip of his nose to yours before climbing off of you.
“I fucking hope this guy realizes what a lucky son of a bitch he is,” Javier said quietly before turning on the heel of his boot and walking out of your bedroom, leaving you laying there with your mouth parted open in complete shock.
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Translations
Solo es una bromita, muñeca. No tienes por qué ofenderte. - It’s just a little joke, doll. No need to get offended.
El vestido rojo. - The red dress.
Te lo juro, Javi. - I swear to you, Javi.
Chismosas - Gossipers
Falta mucha tela, cariño. - There is a lot of fabric missing, darling.
Mentirosa. - Liar.
Te gusta despacito? - Do you like it a little slow? 
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chvoswxtch · 4 months
Text
slumber party
pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader x derek morgan x spencer reid
summary: while en route to a case, the four of you let off a little steam.
warnings: all of them. every single one of them. swearing, a lil angst, derek morgan's smile, explicit sexual content (minors dni)
word count: 3.3k
a/n: let's be real. you didn't come here for a plot, and I didn't write one. enjoy this slutty vision I had in the shower. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
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The jet was quiet apart from the sporadic sound of pages being flipped and Spencer’s occasional soft noises of either being intrigued or perplexed regarding details of the case, deciphered only by their volume and pitch. Hotch had read the same paragraph on the report at least seven times, and there seemed to be some kind of disconnect between his tired eyes and unresponsive brain. Letting out a quiet irritated exhale and diverting his attention to the top of the paragraph yet again, a soft noise caused his ears to perk up.
Finally looking up from the report for the first time in half an hour since he originally sat down, creases furrowed in the midst of his forehead when he glanced towards the other end of the jet and caught sight of you. From where he sat, all he could see was the back of your head since you seemed to be facing the back of the seat you were in, which he found extremely odd. But as he craned his neck, he noticed a familiar pair of hands on your hips and instantly clenched his jaw.
“Son of a bitch.”
The second Hotch shot up out of his chair, Spencer finally tore his own eyes away from the report and turned his head to follow Hotch’s angry march down the aisle of the jet with a mixture of curiosity and confusion. Now that there were no obstructions in his line of sight, Hotch had the full view of you sitting topless on Derek’s lap with your skirt bunched up around your waist, grinding your hips down in a slow but sensual rhythm. Derek’s hands were firmly grasped on your hips to help guide your movements, and his face was buried into your exposed chest.
“Morgan you greedy fucker.”
The sound of Hotch’s angry voice booming in the comfortable silence caused you to immediately tense up and stop moving, but Derek wasn’t having any of that. He gripped a little tighter onto your hip and gave your ass a light smack, pulling his head back to look at you with that dazzling smile of his that could make anyone weak in the knees.
“No no no no, keep goin’ baby girl. Don’t worry about him. You just keep doing what you’re doing…that’s it.”
Derek leaned his head back against the seat, looking over at Hotch with that same charming grin on his face. His warm chocolate brown eyes were glazed over with lust and had been eclipsed into half moons of pleasure. 
“Sorry Hotch, she just looked too goddamn good.”
“What’s going on back-oh.”
As Spencer took his place beside Hotch, his eyes immediately went wide at the sight he was met with. He seemed to be completely mesmerized by the erotic flow of your hips while you languidly rode Derek’s cock as you sat topless on his lap. While Spencer was bewitched by the spell of your hips, Hotch was furious. The stern look that seemed to be his default expression was unaffected by the show taking place before him.
“Morgan, you know the rules-”
“Come on, Hotch. We still got another hour before we land. Lighten up a little. You know, some stress relief would do you a whole lotta good.”
Before Hotch had a chance to respond, Spencer was already stepping forward and unbuttoning his cardigan.
“You could’ve at least asked us to join.”
Derek let out a soft chuckle, rubbing his hands up and down your smooth thighs as he flexed his hips upwards to match your pacing.
“Hey, you were the one more invested in exactly how many trees there are in the Acadia National Park than you were in the beautiful woman on the plane, pretty boy.”
“Well if I had known-”
Letting out a frustrated huff, you stopped moving and placed your hand over Derek’s mouth before turning to look at Spencer and Hotch over your shoulder.
“Boys, you know I hate it when you argue. It makes me dry up.”
Spencer dropped his forgotten cardigan on the chair behind himself, his attention solely fixed on you again. In the dim lighting of the plane, you could just barely see that the green flecks in his honey eyes had deepened into a wicked hue. He ran his fingers gently through your hair before cradling your face in one hand and starting to unbuckle his belt with the other, all while looking at you and dragging his tongue along his bottom lip.
“Don’t worry, we can get you wet again.”
“Not if you’re all standing around bickering instead of fucking me.”
Hotch wasn’t giving in, no matter how badly he wanted to. It was late, he was exhausted, he was beyond sexually frustrated, but above all he was fucking stubborn.
“There is one rule on this fucking plane. When we are en route to a case, we are focused on the case. Playtime is for after.”
Brushing Spencer’s hand away from his belt, a smirk tugged across your lips as you looked up at him and began to unbuckle it yourself, which only caused him to bite down on his bottom lip seductively. Throwing a glance over your shoulder at Hotch, you could visibly see just how pissed off he was, but as your gaze wandered down south, you could also see the outline of his impressive cock starting to strain against his pants. Sinking your teeth into your own bottom lip, you looked up at Hotch through your, flashing him a sultry smile while you teasingly unzipped Spencer’s pants slowly.
“Aw, come on, Aaron. If anyone needs some relief, it’s you. Just come have a little fun with us.”
The hardness in Hotch’s glare wavered only slightly at the provocative sound of your voice. It was an unrelenting struggle to keep his eyes focused directly on yours and to not let them roam over your body. If he let his gaze wander for even a split second to see the way your nipples were peaked from the cool air in the cabin, the way your soft hand was caressing Spencer’s cock through his pants, or the way your ass moved against Derek’s lap while you fucked him, he would break. While Derek began to flex his hips upwards a little harder to fuck up into you now that there was no longer a reason to stay quiet, you were pulling Spencer’s cock out of his briefs and leaning over to take him into your mouth.
Before he could watch you wrap your lips around Spencer’s tip, Hotch quickly looked away and stormed off towards the other end of the jet, dropping into his chair and loosening his tie with a hardened scowl on his face.
“You’re all getting written up.”
“For what?”
Derek's protest was only faintly heard since Hotch’s blood was now pounding in his ears like a high school marching band, and throbbing in other places. 
“Insubordination.”
There was a slight growl to his voice as he barked back at Derek, not even bothering to look up as he angrily began to look through the case file again, but he couldn't focus. No matter how hard he tried, all he could hear was Derek and Spencer praising you in tandem as they each took an offering from your body, and the soft noises of gratitude that flowed from your lips. It was absolute fucking torture. He thought about palming himself through his pants, just to get a little reprieve without alerting any of you to his moment of weakness. But he was so fucking angry with all of you, he didn’t even want to give in.
His mind was a jumbled concoction of juxtaposed thoughts, none of which had anything to do with the case in front of him. Hotch wasn’t sure why he was so pissed off right now. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if he had joined in, it wasn’t like the four of you hadn’t done it before. It certainly would’ve put him in a better mood. But this was a big case, and Strauss had been on his ass more than usual lately, and things at the BAU had been so chaotic that the team was getting split up just to keep up with the influx of cases coming across JJ’s desk.
Maybe it was a mistake not to send you with Rossi, JJ, and Prentiss. The air always shifted when you were alone with him, Reid, and Morgan. It was inevitable. Maybe that’s why he ordered you to come with him, because even if he didn’t want to consciously admit it, subconsciously he knew that this was exactly what he needed. He needed you, and the peace that you brought him.
The sharp sound of a smack landing on flesh caught his attention, and Hotch looked up to see that the three of you had moved to the bench directly in his line of sight. Derek had his head thrown back as pounded into you from behind, occasionally smacking his hand against your ass while he grunted about how tight and wet you always were. Spencer held your hair back while he fucked your mouth, watching you as he moaned praises of what a good girl you were. Your face was obstructed by Spencer’s back, but Hotch could hear how much you were enjoying yourself, and he couldn’t look away.
As Derek and Spencer came in unison, Hotch gripped onto the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles turned stark white, and he inhaled a sharp breath that he let out slowly through his nose. Gritting his teeth, he glared down at the blur of black ink on the pages, listening to the sound of your angelic laughter and kisses being exchanged between the three of you. Why was he doing this to himself? Why hadn’t he just fucking given in and joined?
While Spencer was sitting on the couch with his pants around his ankles, head back against the window with a blissed out look on his face, Derek snaked his arm around your waist and pressed a soft kiss to your neck before whispering into your ear.
“Do me a favor, baby girl. Go take care of grumpy over there.”
Letting out a quiet giggle, you turned and brushed your nose against Derek’s before kissing him softly.
“Already ahead of you, D.”
Discarding your skirt completely, you dropped it in Spencer’s laugh and planted a quick kiss to his lips before sauntering down the aisle of the plane, completely naked. Hotch glanced up when he caught the smell of your familiar perfume and looked at you with a halfhearted glare. All you could do was smile at the sight of his thick brows furrowed and the permanent scowl that he always seemed to wear. You both knew he couldn’t stay mad at you, and he didn’t even put up a fight when you made him lean back against his seat so you could sit on his lap. 
“Why are you so mad baby, hm?”
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you ran one of your hands through his dark brown hair, giving a gentle tug at the root which earned a quiet grunt from him. As you leaned in to place featherlight kisses along his jaw, you could feel his body physically relax, as well as how much his hardened cock was straining against his pants. But despite the giveaways from his body, Hotch wouldn’t budge. He didn’t make a move to touch you, and he didn’t speak. He was always the hardest of the three to break, but you knew exactly where his weak points were.
“Oh, you don’t wanna talk, huh? That’s okay. I’d prefer to do something else with my mouth right now anyway.”
Gently biting down on his earlobe, you felt his thighs tense up beneath you and a quiet grunt sound from his chest, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. As you got off his lap, you slowly got down onto your knees in front of Hotch and unbuckled his belt. Since he was already in a sour mood, you decided to skip the teasing, and honestly you were so turned on yourself that you didn’t have the patience for it.
He was trying so hard not to give in while you were pulling the leather of his belt out of the buckle, and even as you were unbuttoning his pants and tugging down the zipper, he was trying to appear completely unbothered while looking at the case files. But the second he felt your luscious lips wrap around the throbbing head of his cock that was slick with pre-cum, he completely lost it. 
Letting his head fall back against the seat, he closed his eyes and his lips parted as he focused solely on the warmth of your mouth and the wetness of your tongue sliding against the underside of his sensitive tip. In that moment he completely forgot whatever he was mad about. Every single coherent thought in his head vanished, and all that was  left was you.
You don’t mind when he slips his hand into your hair and grips at it roughly, or when he starts to push his hips upwards to seek out more. It was rare that Hotch ever gave in to his selfish desires, and you were all too eager to let him. The sight above you was one you wished you could frame. His dark brown hair was messy from you running your fingers through it and his eyes were peacefully screwed  shut. There was a twinge of heat covering his cheeks, and his lips were parted further as heavy pants and soft whimpers escaped. Those little noises only make you want to steal more of them from the man that was normally so stoic and closed off. 
All of a sudden, Hotch roughly pulled at your hair causing you to moan around him. He grunted while leaning down to slip his hands under your arms, pulling you up from your knees and shoving all the reports off the table in front of him carelessly onto the floor. He grabbed you by your hips and lifted you up onto the table, and you immediately spread your legs wide for him to slot through. Without wasting another second, Hotch pulled you towards the edge of the table and easily slipped his thick cock inside your drenched pussy. Both of you moaned simultaneously at the contact, and he only faltered for a second before he started to aggressively snap his hips against yours.
Faintly, you can hear Derek whistling from the other side of the plane and the sound of him clapping as he calls out to Hotch.
“There he is. Come on, Hotch. Give us a show.”
When you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, Hotch wrapped one of his large hands around your throat and lightly squeezed. You can tell he’s still frustrated by the feral way he’s fucking you against the table, but you can feel just how badly he needs this release. Sneaking one of your hands down to play with your clit, you only get away with it for a few seconds before Hotch roughly smacks your hand away and tightens his grip on your throat. He replaces your hand with his own and starts to furiously rub quick circles over your sensitive clit, tearing a sharp moan from your chest. You can feel how close he is already by the way his rhythm starts to falter. When he speaks, his voice is so low and husky that it almost sounds like a growl.
“You insatiable little slut. You haven’t come enough already? You think you deserve to come again after the way you’ve been acting?”
“Aaron-”
“Shut up.”
The only thing you can hear over the obscene sound of Hotch’s thighs smacking against your ass with every powerful thrust and the lewd squelching of his cock disappearing over and over inside your tight cunt is the dark chuckle that sounded from Spencer before he spoke.
“Uh oh, someone pissed off Daddy.”
The way you moan Hotch’s name nearly has him combusting right there. When he starts to rub your clit harder, your jaw becomes unhinged and hangs open, but nothing comes out. You can’t speak, you can’t even make a sound. Hotch grunts as his pace becomes even more fervent and brutal. He was fucking you with everything he had, using your body to expel every ounce of pent up frustration, and you were already ascending into the clouds.
“You wanna come so fucking badly? Then do it.”
The tightening of your cunt around his cock sends both of you over the edge, and both of your moans seem to echo in the small space of the cabin. Hotch continues to fuck you wildly through his orgasm, gripping onto the edge of the table to steady himself. Once he starts to slow down after emptying himself inside of you completely, the blissed out smile that replaces the frown on his mouth makes you giggle, and it causes him to finally open his eyes and look down at you with an arch of his brow.
“What?”
“Better?”
Hotch just stares down at you for a moment with slightly narrowed eyes before he finally gives in, his lips parting into that wide grin that you love so much but rarely get to see. Taking a moment to catch his breath, a light chuckle leaves him as he gazes down at you with softer eyes this time and brushes your hair away from your face gently.
“You know, the whole point of me being your boss is you’re supposed to actually listen to me.”
“You of all people know I listen very well.”
The sultry tone of your voice and the implications behind it caused Hotch to smirk, and you can feel the effect it has when you feel his cock twitch inside of you. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against your own and gave your ass a light smack.
“When you’re being a good girl and not such a brat.”
A soft noise of surprise left your lips when he smacked your ass, and you giggled while grabbing his face in your hands to pull him in for a soft and slow kiss.
“I don’t hear you complaining.”
Rolling his eyes, Hotch reluctantly pulled out of you with a soft hiss and helped you down from the table. He ran one of his hands through his hair and took another deep breath before tucking his softened cock back into his pants.
“Alright, everyone back to work.”
“Wait, everyone got to fuck her but me, that’s not fair.” 
Hotch glanced down at his watch on his wrist before looking over at Spencer, shooting him a pointed look when he caught the slight pout on Spencer’s lips.
“We’re landing in twenty minutes and we still need to prep.”
As Spencer began to protest, you walked over towards him and placed your hand on his chest, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek with a mischievous grin.
“Don’t worry, Spence. I’ll share a room with you tonight, and you can fuck me all you want.”
Spencer’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas, but Derek and Hotch immediately began to protest as they shared a look before staring at the two of you with looks of frustration.
“Whoa whoa whoa-“
“That’s not-“
Spencer wrapped his arms around you to pull you in, bending down to kiss you deeply while grabbing a handful of your ass to squeeze tightly causing you to giggle. He nipped at your bottom lip before turning to look at Hotch and Derek with a smug smirk.
“Don’t worry. Unlike you two, I know how to share. Maybe we can all have a slumber party.”
tags: @mars-rants-a-lot @ninejlovebot @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @vane28282 @kmc1989 @avencol
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mytheoristavenue · 1 year
Text
Straw Hat Men with you in a Skirt W/O Panties 🍋
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Summary: How your boyfriend would react if they saw you on deck, wearing a skimpy skirt with no underwear.
Warnings: MDNI, NSFW, penetration, sexual frustration, groping, fingering, oral (f receiving)
Monkey D. Luffy:
He wasn't anticipating anything exciting ho happen today. The crew had been at sea for weeks with no destination in sight. If he didn't know any better, it might've occurred to him that Nami had gotten them lost. Needless to say, Luffy was bored out of his mind. Nobody to play games with, and nothing to do.
So when he made his way to the deck and found you leaning over the railing, what little fabric was on your hips billowing in the breeze, his interest was peaked. The closer he got, the more it dawned on him, that he could see flesh that shouldn't be visible. Deciding he had to see for himself, he strolled up to you, pressing his chest against your back, and cupping your ass, fingertips grazing your heat. "Why aren't you wearing panties?"
"Don't feel like it." you giggled. "Besides, everyone is so busy today, it's not like I'll get caught."
Luffy chuckled, a grin cracking his features. "I caught you though."
"You don't count, you're my boyfriend." you sighed playfully, 'accidentally' bending a bit deeper at the waist.
"It counts even more," he purred, leaning into your ear with a airy laugh. "'Cuz I'm also your captain." As if to punctuate his statement, his finger slipped into your sex, pumping shallowly. You sighed, laying your head back against his shoulder. "And as your captain I order you to get your ass to my room."
Roronoa Zoro:
All he wanted was rest, to nap in the sun after hours of working out, but you couldn't even give him that. He stirred awake to find you standing over him, hands clasped innocently behind your back. You loomed over him, standing between this open legs, smiling down at him. From his angle, be could barely see the the lack of fabric beneath your skirt, but it was enough.
Taking a quick glance around to ensure nobody could see, be hastily gripped the backs of your knees, pulling you forward. Lifting your skirt, he buried his face in your sex, slipping his tongue between your lips. You trembled at the way he sensually kissed your heat, with the same amount of passion he'd kiss your face with.
You whined softly as your fingers gripped what little hair he had as his head found shelter fully beneath the thin fabric that hugged your hips. "Shhhh..." he hushed, the vibrations against your clit making you weak at the knees. "Somebody'll hear."
"Z-Zoro..." you murmured pitifully. One of your dainty hands reached down to uncover his face, wanting to see him nestled in your thighs. Instead you were met with his dark, lusty eyes peering up at you.
God Usopp:
He had been descending the stairs from the cabin to the deck when he immediately stopped in his tracks. His haki alerted him to something in his path at was amiss. Quickly, he scanned the area to make sure nobody else was there to see what he was, before hopping down the rest of the steps and darting over to confront you. "What do you think your doing?" he hissed, flustered as could be.
"Enjoying the warm weather." you giggled, leaning over the railing of the Sunny. Some how the nonchalant energy of your answer made the irritation in his cheeks worse.
"Weather, my ass!" he replied, fists clenched with embarrassment. "Why do you have you ass out on deck?"
"Why are you looking?" you quipped playfully.
"It's kinda hard not to when I can see it from the top of the stairs. What if someone else sees you?" he worried, his eye twitching in annoyance from your lack of concern.
"Awe," you snickered, turning your body to face his as he pinned you against the railing. "Is somebody jealous?" you teased, palming him through his pants before grinding yourself against him.
"No," he breathed with furrowed brows. "Just don't want anybody else seeing what's mine."
"Is that right?" you cooed, slipping your hand into his waistband to give him a few playful pumps. "Maybe we should take this back to the workshop, then? That way you can have me all to yourself."
Vinsmoke Sanji:
He hummed softly, setting out his ingredients for dinner when you strolled in. "Need any help, babe?" you offered, trying your best to look innocent.
"I got it, love," he replied with a gentle smile. "But you're welcome to stay if you want." He turned back to his prep station, only to realize that he forgot one thing: garlic. "Hey, actually, do you mind handing my a clove of garlic from the shelf over there?"
Nothing could've prepared Sanji to watch you bed over, only to be fully nude beneath that tiny skirt. His breath caught in his throat for a moment, before he set the knife that he'd planned to chop the garlic with down. Quietly, he approached you as you were still bent at the hip, and firmly grasped your hips. "Mon amour," he purred, unbuckling his belt with a single hand, before pulling out his erect cock and rubbing it against your heat with little warning.
The sweet gasps he pulled from you gave him life and spurred him on to slip into you. "S-Sanji..." you moaned quietly.
"Laisse moi te baiser correctement, mon ange."
Translation:
"Mon amour," = "My love,"
"Laisse moi te baiser correctement, mon ange." = "Let me fuck you right, my angel."
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elliezato · 3 months
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‪‪❤︎‬She's Jealous‪‪❤︎‬
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pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader
summary: Ellie gets jealous when she sees you kissing another girl
warnings: MDNI! cursing, drugs/alcohol, fingering, bathroom sex, public sex??
a/n: This is my first fanfic so idk how to feel about thisss. Also, I feel like this story isn't very original but I keep replaying this situation in my head, helpp. I'm open to recommendations! I will probably only write ellie x reader fics for now but let me know what you want and I'll write it! I get writer's block and need inspo!! Anyway... I hope you enjoy:)
♡︎.You and Ellie have been broken up for about a month now.
Parties have never really been your thing but your friend Dina has been begging you to go to one with her.
"It's been almost a month. You can't keep isolating yourself in your dorm like this."
You lay on your bed while Dina tries to convince you to go out tonight. She's right though. Things haven't been the same since you and Ellie broke up.
"Listen. Come to the party tonight. I hate that this breakup is holding you back. who knows. maybe you'll meet someone!"
Dina leaves and you make up your mind.
You change into a pleated mini skirt and throw on some baby tee you haven't worn since your relationship. Ellie liked it when you wore skirts and you knew that. Some part of you was hoping she would be there so she could see you. You apply a thin wing of eyeliner and put on your docs.
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Later that night you walk into the party. The house smells of weed and music covers the sound of people talking. You see Dina and Jesse from across the room. They're drinking and dancing with a few other of your friends. You hesitantly walk over to join them.
"Y/N!! thank god you're here!" Dina hugs you with one arm and a drink in the other.
"Damn, this is the first time I've seen you out since... you know" Jesse laughed as he took a sip from a red solo cup.
You sat on the couch and drank as you watched your friends enjoy the night. You hated yourself that you couldn't get up and have fun. The air felt hot and there was nothing left in your cup. As you get up to get another drink you feel eyes on you.
There she was. Ellie stood there with a drink in her hand. Your heart sank. This was the first time you've been in the same room as her since the heat of the breakup. Her eyes were on you as you slowly walked past her to get a drink. You look at the ground as you pass her, doing everything you can to avoid eye contact. When you look up to get another cup, you see Ellie standing in front of you. As she opens her mouth she say something to you, you feel hands on your waist.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing at a party alone?" The girl looks you up and down with a soft smile on her face.
From the corner of your eye, you see Ellie take a sip from her drink and walk away. You feel yourself sadden as Ellie leaves your presence. Fingers run down your waist. You look behind you and the girl is still there. It's been a long time since someone has hit on you. Honestly, the last time you romantically got attention from someone was with Ellie.
"You alright? What's upsetting you baby?" The girl whispers in your ear.
At this point, you'll do anything to get your mind off Ellie. A new relationship isn't what you want but it couldn't hurt. You turn around and face the girl. You've never seen her before but she's honestly really pretty. It wouldn't be hard to distract yourself around someone this attractive.
"m'nothin" The alcohol is hitting you. Usually, you'd feel guilty flirting with anyone other than Ellie, but right now, nothing matters.
She pulls you closer by your waist and passionately places a kiss on your lips. The sudden proximity makes you tense. Her hand travels down your hips while the other grabs your face. Something about this feels wrong but you push the thoughts back.
"I'm sorry, I have to go. I came with my friend and promised I wouldn't leave her" You lied so bad, you almost cringed.
You remove yourself from the girl's grasp and take your drink as you walk away from her. The pain of the breakup is sinking in again. You wander around the party to find Dina but she's off with Jesse. There's no point in being at that party anymore. You down the rest of your drink and walk outside. The air is cold and dry. Snow falls gently as the music from the party echoes.
"What the fuck were you doing? Kissing another girl? Already?" Ellie stares at you with a joint between her lips.
"Ellie." You look at her in shock.
"We've been broken up for barely a month and you're already making moves on other women!?" She laughs under her breath as a cloud of smoke leaves her lips.
"Why do you even care. We're not together" You look at her with sad eyes. The tough act was never your strong suit.
She grabs your face with one hand and tilts your head towards her. You gasp at her touch. Snow falls down on the both of you. Your breath is visible in the cold air and the only thing keeping you warm is the heat of the situation.
"Are you trying to make me jealous, hmm?" She looks at you with lustful eyes.
"No! she kissed me..." Your voice trails off as you feel the touch of Ellie's fingers trace your jaw.
Nothing could've prepared you for this. The last time you two spoke was the breakup. This was a topic that was hard for the both of you. Clearly, the thought of the other stayed lingering in your minds. Her touch felt nice. You could feel yourself practically melting in her hand. The similar scent of weed got stronger as her face got closer.
"It worked." She takes one last hit of her joint before tossing it on the ground.
"What?" You look at her dazed and confused. Your eyes soften as her fingers trail down your neck
"I'm jealous." She admitted as she tightened her grip on your face. "Let's go back inside and show them who you belong to, yeah?" Ellie gives you a dirty grin.
You follow her back into the party. Even with Ellie, you didn't want to be back in there but that didn't matter in the moment. She walks through the crowd of people holding on tightly to your waist. You look over at her face a notice a cocky grin stuck to her lips. You can feel the eyes of the other girl you were with earlier staring at you. Ellie notices the girl staring at you. She grabs your face in front of her and kisses you. You pause as her lips touch yours. You missed this. Fuck. You missed her touch so bad. Leaning in for more, Ellie playfully pushes you away.
"God you're just as needy as I remembered." She pulls you away from the crown and leads you into an empty bathroom.
Ellie pushes you against the door causing it to shut behind you. Her lips passionately press against yours. You let your hands roam her figure. Fingers running underneath her baggy band tee. She grabs your hands and pulls them away.
"You're not getting it that easily" She glares at you as she takes your wrists by one hand and holds them above your head. "I'm going to make sure everyone knows how good I'm fucking you" Her breath is hot against your ear.
Her tongue explores your mouth and her other hand runs up your shirt. You let out a soft moan as her fingers draw circles around your nipple. She lets go of your hands and strips off your shirt. Her kisses move down your neck, leaving marks for everyone to know she you were hers. Her tongue reaches your nipples and she traces small circles around them. Her mouth moves further down your chest. Fingers moving down your waist meeting the hem of your skirt. She stops kissing your body and looks up at you. Her fingers slide up your skirt and meet your damp underwear.
"Fuck- You're so wet and I've bearly touched you" She continues kissing down your waist.
She pulls your underwear down your legs and throws them off. Her fingers finally graze your wet folds. She picks you up by your waist and places you on the counter. The granite is cold against your thighs. She sloppily kisses your lips as she inserts a finger into you. You throw your head back and hum at her touch. She grabs your chin and forces you to look at her.
"Look at me while I fuck you with my fingers." She glares up at you. Her face is desperate to feel you.
Your hands run through her hair as she pulls her finger out. She adds another finger and slams them into you. You hold the counter with one hand and the other pulling at Ellie's half-up half-down updo. You're holding in your moans remembering there's a crowd of people right behind that door. You close your eyes as Ellie curls her fingers inside of you, hitting the right spots.
"Fuck Els- s'good" You quietly whimper trying to hold back.
Tears are forming in your eyes. You can feel the warmth building up in your stomach. Ellie can feel you're close. She stops her motions and pulls her fingers out of your cunt. Your slick coats her fingers, dripping down her arm. She brings her fingers to your mouth. You clean Ellie's fingers with your tongue, whimpering for more action.
"I'm not going to give you anything if you're not going to moan for me. I want to hear you" Her fingers slide out of your mouth and find their way back down to your inner thighs.
"They're gonna hear" You bite your lip as your thighs press together.
"That's the point baby. Tell me how bad you've missed me" She keeps eye contact as she moves her face down to your hips.
She pulls your tighs apart, spreading your folds with her finger. Her tongue rests right above your clit, waiting for you to beg.
"Fuck- I need you Els. I need you to fuck me." You give into her commands wanting to feel her touch.
She finally complies and licks circles around your puffy bud. She thrusts her fingers into you once again while tasting you on her tongue. You squirm under her touch. Pornographic moans leave your lips as she starts to suck your clit. Tears fill your eyes as you look down at Ellie taking you in.
"You taste so good, I've missed your pretty pussy" She smiles against your folds removing her fingers.
The vibrations of her voice cause you to moan as you push her face closer to you. Her tongue slides down your folds and she pushes it into you. At this point, you're a moaning mess. Anyone who walks by that bathroom knows what's happening. Her nose gently rubs against your clit as her tongue fucks you.
"mmm~ i'm gonna fucking cum-" Your hips grind against her face.
She holds your waits pulling you closer. Her tongue slides out and sucks your cunts as her fingers push deep inside you. The heat in your stomach feels like it's going to burst. Only Ellie could have you panting and desperate to cum like this in a bathroom.
"That's it baby, cum for me okay?" She feels how close you are.
Her pace fastens as she gets you to release onto her fingers. Your hips buckle as whimpers and moans fill the room. She continues but slows her pace milking your orgasm. She licks the wetness from your cunt and you pant in her arms.
"I missed you" Your eyes look at her as she moves closer to your face, kissing your lips.
You can taste yourself in her mouth as she sloppy kisses you. She holds your waist and guides you off the counter. You're a mess. Makeup is running down your face and your hair is falling from the ponytail it was in. Eille was still completely dressed as she watches you put your clothes back on. She takes your hand and places a gentle kiss on your neck.
"You're such a slut for me" She grins as she places her hand on the door nob. "I don't want to ever see you tasting another girl's lips, got it" You nod in response.
You realized how hot the room was when Ellie opened the door and you felt the coolness of the party on your skin. She takes you by the waist and leads you back into the party. Ellie wore a cocky smile knowing she was the only person at this party who could get you moaning like that. Eyes were on you when people realized who was in the bathroom.
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murdrdocs · 11 months
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yknow what…….. you should elaborate more on after shows w/ rockstar bf hobie……
mhm ik what ur asking for ... and i will deliver fem!reader
he always comes off the stage drenched in sweat. a bright look in his eyes, prominent cheekbones glowing with happiness instead of just sweat. he chats to a few people on the way down, dapping them up as he goes, and you stand just a little bit away, rocking back and forth on your feet, playing with the rings hobie's gotten you, gnawing on your lip as he gets closer, and closer, and closer.
until sweat-slickened hands are pulling you into him by the waist, your hands finding the cotton of his muscle tee. he asks you the same question that he always does ("what'd you think?"), and you give the same answer as always ("was amazing") and then he kisses you, just like he always does.
there's some more time where he's dragged into different places, his hand in yours as you walk behind him, then his hands on your hips as he walks you in front of him. he talks to his mates, fingers tapping along the denim of your skirt, angular jaw resting on your shoulder and you can practically feel the anticipation buzzing from his body.
you finally end up outside, under a streetlight with your backs against the wall of the pub. hobie smokes a cig while he listens to you tell him about what the show looked like from your end, something he makes you do as he values your opinion (though he says it like it doesn't matter but his attentive eyes say otherwise).
the last drag is taken, you've finished your spiel, hobie stomps the butt out into the asphalt with his boots, and then his hands are pulling you into him, slender fingers hooking into your belt loops to encourage the movement.
your hands collide with his chest, he stares down at you, dark eyes flicking from your eyes to your lips, and then his lips are on yours.
it's usually like this, intensely making out just steps away from where he'd performed, a few feet away from where he'd laid almost all of his heart and soul out, always leaving just enough left to give to you.
your back ends up against the wall and hobie crowds your space. he tastes like cigarettes, and a little like beer, with a tinge of the gum you'd given him when he'd asked for it a few minutes ago. he smells like you, and like him, a mixture that works more than it should.
his hands are warm and rough when they meet your thighs, thumbs on the innermost parts of your skin. they dig into the flesh in a silent command to spread your legs more, one you easily obey. it gives access for hobie's deft fingers to push your panties aside.
he takes a step closer, his head dips down, he pecks your cheek. "d'you want me to stop?" it's always the same question, formatted slightly different each time.
and each time, you shake your head.
there are some nights where you just talk, his arm slung around your waist, your head rested somewhere on his chest or shoulders, a cigarette either between his lips or fingers as he tells you stories that he somehow hasn't told you before. those nights end with you back at either of your places, in a position similar to this one.
but there are other nights, most nights if you're honest, where hobie looked so good on stage from your perspective, and he had adrenaline pumping through his veins that couldn't be quelled with spiderman duties, and neither of you could wait to get home so the side of a pub was the next best place.
his fingers work you in ways that only he can do, and as you start to unravel from his ministrations, you don't have any worries about being seen because you know that in the off chance that would happen, hobie would handle it. he always does.
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