#���� you’ve got mail!

[nymphomatique]

wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻

this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.

cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!

“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”

miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’

you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.

peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.

you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.

immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”

you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.

you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.

a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”

miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”

you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.

after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.

peter 🚮

| is that fucking o’hara..?

| you’re fucking with me???

| fucking whore

| you sleep with nerds now??

you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.

you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.

fucking dweeb.

[gothcsz]

imagine moving into your new apartment and finding out that javier peña is your next door neighbour 🤭

tags: f!reader, friends to lovers i think, sprinkle of angst, mutual pining, alcohol consumption, throwing up/vomiting mentioned (if you're squeamish to that kind of thing), javi being javi, untranslated spanish, smut, p in v sex, overstimulation, there are feelings involved, unbeta'd, no use of y/n, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.

~ 4.2k w/c - gif found on pinterest - masterlist

a/n: i just want javier peña to look at me... is that too much to ask for?! this is tropey asf and not what i was initially thinking of writing when i got this ask—but i like how this lil one shot turned out. i hope you do too, bestie! 🖤

You’re in the middle of unpacking boxes in your new apartment, surrounded by a mess of your own doing, when a sharp knock on the door startles you. You weren’t expecting anyone.

Wiping your hands on your jeans, you head to the door and swing it open to reveal a striking woman. Auburn hair, sharp eyes—she’s undeniably beautiful, but her expression is less than friendly.

Her eyes narrow as she sizes you up. “¿Y tu quien putas eres?” she demands.

Before you can get a word out, she’s already pushing past you into your apartment, not waiting for an invitation. “¿Donde esta Javier? Malparido tramposo. ¡No te escondas de mí!” she continues, storming through your space like she owns it.

You stand there, dumbfounded at the absurdity, watching her move, her fury palpable. Your Spanish is still novice, at best, so you don’t really understand what she’s saying.

“Uh, I think you have the wrong—” you start, but she cuts you off again.

“Wrong, my ass.” She replies, her Colombian accent thick. “I know he lives here. All the Americans do—”

Your brain finally catches up and puts two and two together. She’s looking for Javier Peña. Your colleague and now, apparently, neighbor.

You’ve been quietly, hopelessly crushing on the agent since you started working at the embassy. And now you’re standing in the middle of your half-unpacked apartment while some furious woman is ranting about him.

You’re about to speak again when, as if summoned by the chaos, Javier himself strolls past your open door in the hallway. The woman halts, her eyes following him like a predator tracking its prey.

You see her face shift from righteous fury to utter confusion. It hits her finally—she’s in the wrong apartment, like you tried to tell her.

She mutters something you can’t understand, barely meeting your eyes before storming out, slamming the door behind her.

You stand there, blinking, still processing what just happened. If that was any indication on how things around here will go, at least you know you won’t be bored.

It’s later in the evening when there’s another knock at the door. You’re almost hesitant to answer, unsure if you’ll be met by another beautiful woman scorned, so this time you make sure to look through the peephole before blindly opening it.

It’s Javier.

You glance down at your clothes, suddenly self-conscious. You’re not exactly at your best, sweaty and disheveled from moving all day. Definitely not how you pictured running into him outside of work.

You take a deep breath, trying to pull yourself together, then open the door, “Hey.” You greet him, a little shy.

He leans casually against your doorframe, that signature smirk playing on his lips. “Sorry about earlier,” his deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. “Not the best way to be welcomed into the neighborhood.”

He glances past you, noticing the half-unpacked boxes scattered around your apartment, and you’re mortified for a second, wondering how messy everything must look through his eyes.

You laugh, though it’s a little shaky. “I, uh… didn’t know you lived next door.”

Javier grins, giving you a devastatingly handsome smile that you’ve only seen when he tries to bribe his way through some of the other girls at the office. “Yeah, been here since I moved to Bogotá,” his eyes linger on you, but you don’t notice with how you’re focused on not making a fool out of yourself. 

“Well I hope you and your… friend worked things out.”

He exhales through his nose in an amused laugh. “Somethin’ like that,” he says, sounding almost entertained by the whole thing. “I owe you for that inconvenience.”

Your heart stutters and you hope, no—pray, that your eyes haven’t morphed into hearts with the charming way he’s looking at you.

“It’s fine, really—“

“No, no. I insist. It was rude. The least I can do is make it up to you.”

Knowing he wasn’t going to back down, a stubborn man through and through, you give him a slight nod, trying to play it cool even though your nerves are buzzing. “Okay… sure, fine. You owe me.”

His smirk softens into a half-smile, a little less cocky. He pushes himself off your doorframe, straightening up. “Alright, cariño. I’ll see you around.” The word rolls off his tongue as if he’s said it a thousand times to you, but it lands right between your legs, sending warmth to your cheeks.

“Have a good night,” he adds with that enamoring gravelly voice of his.

You manage to mumble a goodbye, watching as he walks down the hall, his presence making the air feel electric. You’re left standing there, alone with the heavy realization that your harmless work crush just became a lot more dangerous.

Living next door to him is going to be torture.

Months go by, and torture would be an understatement.

You’ve developed an odd, friendly relationship with him. It’s not exactly what you imagined when you first laid eyes on him at the embassy, all brooding intensity and effortless charm, but it works.

You exchange casual greetings in the hallway, little snippets of small talk when you bump into each other at work. 

It’s... normal. Comfortable, in its own way. But every time he says your name, with that gravelly edge to his voice, something flutters in your chest.

He’s even taken it upon himself to help you with your Spanish, which is as endearing as it is embarrassing. On the days when you can steal a few moments to talk, he’ll have you practicing phrases, repeating them until he’s satisfied with your pronunciation. Sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly amused, he’ll leave a sticky note on your door with a new phrase scribbled on it for you to learn.

It’s become part of your routine. Him giving you little bits of language, you trying to impress him with how quickly you can pick it up. You tell yourself it’s just a… fun thing, nothing more.

Then there are the nights when you’ve made too much dinner. You know that man doesn’t eat. Not properly, anyway. So you bring over a plate, standing awkwardly at his door until he opens it, shirt half-buttoned and hair tousled, like he just rolled out of bed.

“Brought you something,” you say, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens as his eyes flicker to yours, a mix of surprise and amusement.

“Thanks, cariño,” he takes the food from you with that half-smile that makes you feel like a damn schoolgirl.

But it’s not always like that. There are times when he’s away for days at a time. Out doing who knows what—your level of work doesn’t intersect with his at all. 

His return comes with whispers around the office or in the form of news broadcasts that seem to be reporting nothing but atrocities as of late.

In the dead of night, you’ll hear the sound of his boots echoing through the enclosed hallway, a sure sign he’s finally back. You wonder what he’s seen, what he’s done while he was gone. The thought keeps you restless sometimes, but you never ask. He doesn’t offer, either.

And then there are the women.

You hear them through the thin walls—his low voice, their laughter, the unmistakable sounds of them fucking. The rhythm of their pleasure reverberates through your apartment, impossible to ignore.

Every time it happens, you’re reminded of the rumors you’ve heard around the office. The whispers about Javier Peña, about how good he is in bed, about how women fall over themselves to spend a night with him. Now, you know firsthand that they’re true.

It stings more than you’d like to admit, considering how you feel about him but knowing that he doesn’t see you as anything but a friend. 

You’ve caught glimpses of him after his flings, too. You kind of wish you could wipe from your memory, if only to keep your sanity.

It’s during different times of the day, really, when he’s leaning casually against his doorframe like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He’s shirtless, skin still damp from a shower or maybe from the sweat he’s worked up, and his jeans hang sinfully low on his hips. The soft light from the hallway casts shadows over his golden chest, highlighting the faint beauty marks that map his body.

You do your best to keep your eyes averted, pretending you’re not affected, pretending you don’t notice the way his muscles flex as he stretches, or how his dark hair is tousled in that perfectly messy way. But your throat tightens every time, your stomach flipping at how effortlessly good he looks. It’s not fair how someone can make post-coital exhaustion look so damn attractive.

He’s usually saying goodbye to one of the lucky girls, tossing a wink their way, or brushing his fingers through their hair as they share a final kiss.

You tell yourself it’s just Javier being Javier, but it’s impossible to ignore the way jealousy twists in your chest when you see them, all blissed-out and satisfied, practically floating down the hallway after a night with him.

You turn your head, pretend you didn’t just catch a glimpse of him looking like some kind of god, and hurriedly unlock your door before he notices you staring. 

And sometimes, when you least expect it, he catches you.

You’re fumbling with your keys, doing your best to mind your own business, when his voice cuts through the silence. “Hey,” he calls out, casual as ever, and you freeze. Your hand stills on the doorknob, and you force yourself to look up.

Javier is standing there, half naked, leaning against his door as if he has all the time in the world.

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, “Hey.”

“You alright there, cariño?” he asks, voice low and rough, like he’s barely holding back a laugh after watching you struggle with your keys.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just had a long day.”

He hums, his stare lingering on you, and your heart pounds in a way you can’t quite control. But then, as if nothing’s changed, he shifts back into that familiar, teasing grin.

“Okay, don’t work too hard. Can’t have you burnin’ out before me.”

It all comes to a head one night at the bar near your place. You’re out with a secretary from a different department, downing margaritas like they’re water. You’re tipsy—no, you’re drunk, and the world is spinning just a little too fast.

That’s when you see him. He walks in like he owns the place, scanning the crowded space until his eyes land on you. He acknowledges you with a jut of his chin and you smile drunkenly at him, waving, before you’re brought back to the conversation with your friend.

He’s here for work, meeting one of his informants—a very pretty, very obvious, working girl. You hate how seeing him with her swirls the green in your drunken heart.

Maybe it’s the tequila talking, maybe it’s the months of pent-up frustration, but when Javier approaches as your coworker excuses herself to the bathroom, checking to see if you’re alright, your mouth runs faster than your brain.

“Don’t worry about me,” you slur, waving him off. “I’m sure you’d have more fun with her,” you add, nodding toward the woman with a sharp, sarcastic edge. “Probably more your type anyway.”

Javier raises an eyebrow, his expression shifting into a playful uncertainty, head tilting slightly. “What?”

You don’t know how to respond. Honestly, you’re not even sure you can form a coherent thought right now. All you know is that you’re in way over your head, and he is standing way too close.

But that liquid courage surges through your veins and the words are tumbling out of your mouth.

“It’s obvious, Javier,” your frustration is crystal clear, despite the way your words run into each other. “The kind of company you keep. They’re more fun,” You gesture vaguely toward his booth. “I’m just… here. A bore that’s drunk on a Wednesday night. It’s why you came to check on me. Why you’ve been overly nice.” Your words sting, even as they leave your lips.

The alcohol amplifies every insecurity you’ve kept buried.

The playful look on his face vanishes, replaced by hardened disbelief. His brows furrow, and for a moment, he just stares at you, like he’s trying to figure out how you could possibly think so little of yourself.

Instead of giving you an answer, he just reaches for his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. “Come on,” he mutters, “I’m taking you home.”

You snort, shaking your head, another wave of dizziness washing over you. “See? Taking pity on me. Again.”

He rolls his eyes, unfazed by your drunken resistance. “That’s not what this is,” he pulls out a wad of cash and drops it on the bar top to settle your tab.

He makes sure your friend is taken care of, telling the bartender to call a cab for her. Then he goes to dismiss his informant—a woman he definitely had plans to sleep with. She seems surprised, but Javier brushes her off and hands her some money. 

Your drunken mind can’t quite comprehend that he’s choosing to deal with you instead. As he guides you outside, you make it difficult, stumbling and resisting as he tries to steer you toward his car.

“I can walk, Peña,” you grumble, though your legs aren’t exactly cooperating.

“Sure you can,” he says dryly, his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you upright. “You’re making this real easy.” He comments sarcastically.

You’re so going to regret this tomorrow when you’re fighting a hangover at your desk, thinking of how you just fucked up this friendship.

But right now, you can’t focus on anything but how warm his large hand feels against your side as he helps you into the passenger seat.

Your head lolls against the window, and you groan softly. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. You could’ve stayed with her.”

Javier slides into the driver’s seat, glancing at you as he starts the engine. “Everything you said back there was bullshit,” he says bluntly, pulling out of the parking lot. “You think I pity you? That I only talk to you because I feel bad? You really don’t know me at all.”

His words are cutting, but not in a cruel way. He sounds… disappointed. “I like spending time with you,” he continues, quieter now, more serious. “It’s not some charity case. You make me feel normal. When I’m with you, it’s like the rest of the shit I deal with doesn’t exist.” The faint hum of the radio fills the sudden silence.

“You… you’ve got this smile that makes me feel a little better about myself.”

The sincerity in his voice sobers you up just a little, enough for your foggy brain to process what he’s saying. You turn to look at him, eyes wide, but before you can fully grasp it, your stomach lurches.

“Oh no,” you groan, clutching your middle. “I’m gonna be sick.”

He glances at you, and in an instant, he’s speeding up, making it to your complex faster than you would’ve thought possible. He parks hastily, helps you out, and practically carries you to your apartment. The second the door swings open, you make a beeline for the bathroom, barely making it in time to empty your stomach into the toilet.

You hear him lingering by the door, then the sound of running water as he fills a glass in the kitchen. You hate that he’s seeing you like this—pathetic, drunk, and embarrassed.

When you finally sit back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, Javier is there, handing you the glass of water. His expression is soft, more concerned than anything.

“Drink,” he orders gently, crouching next to you. His voice is soothing, and for a moment, the embarrassment fades under the warmth of his presence.

You sip the water, avoiding his gaze, but he’s not letting this go. “You okay?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.

He sighs, settling beside you on the bathroom floor. “You’re not a bore. Don’t say that shit.” His voice is firm, but there’s an undercurrent tenderness beneath it.

Your head is swimming—not just from the alcohol, but from everything that’s happened in the last hour. 

You lean your head back against the wall, the glass of water in your hand almost empty. With a soft sigh, you begin to speak, your tone hesitant.

“Sometimes… I just feel average, you know?” you admit, glancing at Javier from the corner of your eye. He’s sitting quietly beside you, his long legs stretched out in front of him,  gaze focused on some point on the floor. “Like there’s nothing more to me than this mediocre job, answering phones, filing papers. I mean, I didn’t move all the way to South America just for that.”

You pause, trying to organize your thoughts. “That’s why I transferred here. I thought maybe… maybe I’d find something more. Maybe I’d find me.” You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “But ever since I got here, it’s been nothing but monotony and homesickness. I don’t even know if this is where I’m meant to be.”

The words hang between you. You’ve never said this out loud to anyone, never let yourself be so transparent.

Javier doesn’t say anything right away, and it makes you think that maybe you’ve said too much. But then, you hear him sigh softly, his shoulders slumping as if your rambling has hit something deep within him.

He’s silent as he digests your confession, and you’re about to apologize for oversharing when he finally speaks.

“I get it,” he replies, low and rough around the edges. He shifts beside you, resting his arms on his now bent knees while he stares at the floor. “You’re not the only one feeling that way.”

You blink, slightly taken aback by his agreement. You hadn’t expected him to relate��the sharp, confident DEA agent who always seems so sure of himself. He glances at you, offering a wry smile. “You’re not average,” his voice is firmer now, like he’s trying to make you believe it. “It takes time to figure out who you are, what you want. And if it feels like you haven’t found that yet, that doesn’t make you less than.”

There’s an irony in his words, and he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “I should probably take my own advice,” he admits.

Your heart flutters at his reassurance, but you can see it in his eyes—there’s more. Something heavier sits in his chest, pulling him down.

“What about you? What’s weighing on you?”

Javier sighs again, leaning his head back against the wall like you. “This job,” he says simply, but you can hear the exhaustion in his voice. “It’s… confusing. Difficult. Half the time, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore. I thought I’d come here, do some good, but it’s just…” He trails off, his jaw tightening. “I’ve lost myself in all of it. The work. The women. Because I don’t know what else to do.”

Your chest tightens as he speaks, hearing the vulnerability in his words. He’s always seemed so unshakeable, but now you can see the cracks in his armor, all that he’s been carrying. And then he turns to look at you, his expression softening.

“But you,” he says quietly, “you’re the one thing that keeps me grounded in all this shit.”

You look down, not believing that he’s actually saying this to you. You have to be dreaming. 

“Your smile, the way your eyes light up when you’re happy. Shit, even the way you butcher half your Spanish words with that accent of yours.” He chuckles, and despite the heaviness of the moment, you can’t help but laugh with him.

The tension breaks for just a second, and when you finally meet his gaze again, your breath snags. He’s already staring at you, his beautiful brown eyes gleaming.

You quickly look away out of habit, your heart hammering in your chest, but then he calls your name softly. “Mírame, cariño,” he says, all gentle and insistent.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to do so.

“I’m not just telling you this to score. I mean it.”

And you don’t doubt it for a second. However, the moment is too heavy, too intense for your tequila-soaked brain to handle. You can taste the lingering bitterness of the alcohol, your throat feels raw, and your head is already starting to pound. You’re too disoriented to fully process this moment that’s happening.

“I know,” you nod, picking at your cuticles, “I just don’t think right now is the best time to have this conversation.” Your words are punctuated by a hiccup and you bring your hand up to cover your mouth in fear of accidentally throwing up again.

Javier’s lips twitch with amusement, but he works his jaw, nodding in agreement. “You’re right. Not the best time,” he concedes, though the way he says it tells you he wanted this conversation to happen—needed it to.

“I just had to tell you. And if you genuinely feel like you don’t belong here then go home.” He tells you softly, though his cadence and the softening expression on his face say otherwise.

You glance at him, your lips curving into a weak smile. “While I do feel lost, I think half of all this is the margaritas’ doing,” you admit, your voice a little hoarse.

“Tequila’s dangerous like that,” he agrees with a small laugh, shaking his head. 

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to push through the embarrassment still swirling around inside of you. “I’m sorry about what happened at the bar,” you say quietly. “I didn’t mean to be so self deprecating.”

He waves off your apology, his expression relaxed. “It’s no problem.”

“Thank you for bringing me home, and for… opening up like that… I know it wasn’t easy.” Your voice softens as you say it.

He gives you a small smile, but his eyes linger on you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “You make it easy,” he says finally, the words leaving his mouth like a confession.

You sit there on the cool bathroom floor, your heart stumbling all over the place. Leaving isn’t an option anymore. Not when Javier Peña looks at you like this. Not after realizing that you mean so much more to him than you could have ever thought possible.

Javier hovers above you, his gaze locked with yours, filled with desire and adoration. Your legs are tightly wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, feeling every inch of him as his hips move suavely while he fucks you. 

His breath is hot against your neck, biting and licking at your skin. You can barely keep your thoughts straight, your mind clouded with the pleasure he’s stirring in you, the rhythm of his body guiding you to that edge again and again.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, his voice a low growl, “You feel so good, baby. I can feel how close you are... all for me.”

Your body clenches around him in response, a soft whimper escaping your lips as the pleasure tightens inside you, building and building. It’s the fifth time tonight he’s coaxed this out of you, and you don’t know how you’re still holding on.

His weight presses against you and your nails dig into the broad expanse of his broad shoulders, pulling him impossibly close. His chest, warm and slick with sweat, crushes against yours, and the hairs at the base of his cock graze your swollen clit with every thrust, sending shockwaves through you.

You gasp, your voice trembling with each word. “Javier... I can’t... it’s too much.”

But he doesn’t stop, doesn’t relent, instead he grins down at you, a wicked spark in his eyes, pressing his lips against your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth—kissing you everywhere he can reach while his other hand keeps your jaw locked in place, fingers denting into your skin.

His lips finally find yours in a messy, urgent kiss, swallowing your moans as your body tightens around him again. You’re lost in what he’s giving you, your world spinning as your orgasm tears through you, leaving you a trembling mess beneath him.

His hips stutter as he groans your name, his cock twitching inside you while he comes. He stays there, still buried inside, his body heavy and comforting as the world fades back into focus.

When he finally pulls away, his touch softens. He’s gentle as he plants tender kisses on your forehead, your nose, your lips. His hand caresses your naked side, soothing you as your breathing slows. He shifts then, pulling you close into the safety of his arms, his body wrapped around yours.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. Just relax.”

He stays with you, his hand tracing lazy circles on your back, murmuring soft reassurances until you’re completely at ease, your body melting into his.

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @almostempty . @persephone-girl . @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @sunshinefive . @dinanabuu . @angiewatson .

[sebsxphia]

husband bob who fingers his wife so hard she squirts and his wedding ring slides off 😂

(he makes her lick it clean after)

￫ authors notes: omg please, my dear anon! i giggled so hard, i love this so much! 🤭

￫ warnings: sex and squirting.

giggly sex with bob is not uncommon. as much as he can be mean dom bob, he’s also the most loving, soft and romantic lover you’ve ever met. on this particular occasion, he just wanted to finger his pretty little wife and have them squirt over his fingers before bed. he loves seeing you writhing with pleasure (from himself) more than anything.

as you reach your high and come over his fingers with dripping squirts and loud whines, bob coaxes you through it as he always does. “there’s my good girl. that’s it, keep goin’, darlin’. my pretty little wife is so good for me, o— oh—”

he watches with wide eyes from behind his glasses as his wedding ring slides off and falls onto the soaked towel below you. he continues to move his fingers inside of you and lets you ride out your continual high, but his lips have curled up into a small smile and he’s trying his hardest to hold back a small laugh.

as your eyes flutter open and shut, you catch sight of your husbands expressions and between heaving breaths, you pant out, “w— what? what is it?”

bob shakes his head, still with the twitching grin on his lips. “nothing, my darlin’. don’t worry, you’re doin’ so good for me, baby.”

“bobby!” you blurt out again, now with a curious expression forming.

his head drops and he finally lets out a laugh as he admits what’s just occurred. “you squirted so hard that my wedding ring fell off.”

you clasp your hand over your mouth and let out a bubble of giggles. bob lifts his head up, with bubbling laughter also coming from himself. his wedding ring is pinched between his fingers, with his chest flushed and rosy red up-to his cheeks. he leans over you to place a kiss to your lips, muffling your paired amusement ever so slightly.

“come ‘ere.” he breaks the kiss and presses his wedding ring to your lips. your tongue instinctively wraps around the warm and damp ring, occasionally letting yourself lick his fingers clean. “good girl. that’s my pretty little wife.” bob presses a soft kiss to your nose with a beaming smile still.

[etherealhoneypie]

🩷 welcome, read before interacting 🩷

✨ about me ✨

- you can call me honey or darling

- must be 20+ to follow (i check and will block)

- 25 years old {pisces sun, sagittarius moon + rising}

- bisexual/pansexual, she/her but i use they/them too sometimes, poly, hedonistic, and taken

- full time stoner, online slut, irl loser, VERY mentally ill (lots of triggers for things like depression, anxiety, and body image), neurodivergent (at least ADHD), and have been called a political radical once or twice (if you’re a nazi or facist i think you should die if you don’t agree block me and leave me alone).

- i run on queue a lot!!

- this blog is mostly for me to explore my body and sexuality as well as learning to love myself. so if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. but there are also VERY hard kinks ahead be warned. i am a very sexual person and will reblog porn every now and again if that bugs you i’d go ahead and leave.

- kinky stuff i’m into : bdsm, bondage, anal, cnc, somno, knife play, etc.

- non kinky stuff i’m into : movies, tv, reading, music, cats, cheese stuffed crust pizza, vinyl records, jigsaw puzzles

- spam liking my posts is fine but if you do like what you see please give me a reblog! don’t hide me in your likes. also do not add captions to my posts that makes me angry.

- all my posts are under #me or #enchantinghoneypie i also have a reddit with some more nsfw content at u/enchantinghoneypie. if you’d like even more of me, i have a snapchat for $10. i plan on making a backup blog soon (and maybe even a new nsfw 👀).

- if you want to tip me or get me a gift my cashapp is $Enchantinghoneyy (will be updating my throne soon)

❌ DNI if: no age in bio/pinned post, blank blogs, racists, homophobics, transphobics, etc., feeders/feedees, fat fetishists

this is a work in progress more to come ✨🥰

[incorrectraisewataningaiiquotes]

Note: This is an incorrect quote and not canon.

(OMG CHAPTER 37.2 THEY GET CUDDLY I CAN’T.)

Quote source: https://youtu.be/2cjvwTzhG8g?si=C2lmfjyuywqwBqp5

[efingart]

Happy Belated Birthday E! Hope you have a wonderful year ahead <3 and here's a little gift for you *(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭*ଘ

Hope you like it!

OH MY GOD LOOK AT THEM

THEY'RE SO CUTE IN YOUR STYLE SLEEPY AND THEY LOOK SO HAPPY!!! I LOVE IT SO MUCH THANK YOU!!!

YOU'RE SO SWEET 💙💙💙

[neuro-psyche]

hc that jason todd loves 90s romcom movies. The fairy tale ending and the simplicity of it all is 100% one of his guilty pleasures.

i feel like You’ve Got Mail is def one of his favorites. the references to pride and prejudice sold him on it. sure, he doesn’t like how Joe put Christine out of business, fuck late stage capitalism, but still.

Roy def showed up at (broke into) one of his safe houses while Jason was watching 4 Weddings and a Funeral and it went like :

Jason, sobbing during the funeral scene : What the fuck are you doing here.

Roy, already taking a photo for blackmail : Why the fuck are you crying.

Jason : I’m watching four weddings and a funeral.

Roy : What the hell is that.

Jason, already rewinding : Sit your ass down.

-Later-

Roy, sobbing violently during the funeral scene : He was his song, dude!

Jason, also sobbing violently despite having seen this movie hundreds of times : This scene never gets any easier.

Roy : We will never speak of this.

Jason : Speak on it and your body will end up in the river.

Roy : Agreed. Now shut up the movie is going.

also dick 100% watches the movies with him. they also both watch 10 things I hate about you and sob.

[talldecafcappuccino]

The Shop Around the Corner 📚🍂

[mxtx-ships]

Edit: So I hate slow burns, so getting into danmei WAS HARD!!!! So I'm looking for romance, and I don't mind pining a bit. But most danmei are slow burn with pining, so I don't think I'll ever find a danmei where it's mostly romance. I got into SVSSS cause I really liked the couple and didn't know it was gonna be a slow burn. TGCF I got into cause i saw so many romantic things, HuaLian! Didn't know I was gonna have angst city!!!! I got into MDZS cause I honestly read all of MXTX books so let's just read the last one! I didn't know they were all slow burn or just everyone pining forever😅😅

Another Edit: I don't mind angst! I live for it! I just want a lot of romance!

Last Edit: ok kings and queens and everyone else! I think I will give The Disabled Tyrant’s Beloved Pet Fish, Ballad of Sword and Wine, and maybe The Husky & His White Cat Shizun! I honestly heard a lot about Ballad of Sword and Wine, and I'm liking it! Them getting together early and just doing shit together which I adore! Thank you to everyone!!!!!🩷🩷🩷

[crazyunsexycool]

Bucky getting Handsy with Sugar - Sugar you're so pretty 😏

Lottie who came back from school out of nowhere - Yes daddy mama is so pretty 😍

The amount of times Lottie has Cockblocked Bucky and Sugar is unimaginable 😂😭

😂😂😂😂 She’s the reason she doesn’t have a baby sissy…

Getting Blocked…

Warnings: implied smut. mentioned edging/orgasm denial

Bucky had been on a mission for three weeks and to say he missed you was an understatement. Of course he missed his family but he was dying to see you, feel you and just have his way with you as many times as possible.

Bucky rushes out of the meeting room after the debrief and heads home. He hears you moving around in the kitchen and he quickly makes his way to you. You don’t even get a chance to say hello before he’s pulling you in and his lips crash into yours. Bucky only pulls away to leave a trail of kissing down your neck after leaving you breathless.

“I missed you too.” You mumble as you tilt your head to the side so that he can have better access.

“I missed you so much, sugar.” He mutters against your skin. His hands roam your figure and relishing how your curves fit perfectly against him. “I need you right now.”

You giggle as the scruff of his beard tickle your sensitive skin.

“You are so beautiful.”

“She’s the pwettiest mama ever.” Lottie says innocently as she moves around the kitchen island. Her eyes light up at seeing her dad after three weeks and her smile is radiant.

But as happy as Bucky is to see her he’s also frustrated. You can’t help but laugh at conflicting look on his face so you help him out by stepping around him and picking Lottie up. It gives him a minute or two to cool down.

“Hi doll, I missed you soooooo much.” He says once he has the situation under control.

"I missed you daddy." Lottie says while peppering kisses all over his face.

"Now, what are you doing home in the middle of the week, shouldn't you be at school?"

"They let the kids out early today." You say while biting back a smile.

"Of course they did." Bucky grumbles.

"Why don't you go shower and change and we can hang out later."

"Yeah, I'll do that." Bucky nods as he sets Lottie on her feet. He grumbles all the way up the stairs.

****

Bucky had just taken off his shirt in the bathroom when the door opened and closed quickly. You gave him a sly smile as your wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

“So what was this whole ‘I need you right now’ thing you were saying?” You mumble against his lips.

“Don’t tease me, Sugar.”

You smirk as your hands travel over Bucky’s chest and down his abs to his pants. His breath hitches as you undo the button and zipper. He can’t contain himself as he starts to get hard under your touch. But just as you’re about to get on your knees for him there’s a small knock on the bathroom door.

“Mama?” Lottie calls out. There’s a strain in her voice that lets you know something is wrong. “I dwopped my juice.”

Bucky throws his head back and groans as you pull away from him.

“I’ll be right out sweet Angel.”

“Mama, my dwess is Sticky. I don’t wike it.”

“Go to your bathroom and I’ll be right there.” You say and wait for the little ‘Kay’ she gives.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” You give him a quick kiss before leaving him alone in the bathroom.

****

Bucky had never been more excited for bedtime than at this moment. Once the kids were in bed he’d have you all to himself. He was more than happy to read an extra story if it meant the kids would be completely asleep and he could have uninterrupted time with you.

You’re already in bed waiting for Bucky when he walks in and locks the door. His eyes darken as he takes in your figure on the bed. Bucky doesn’t waste his time walking over to you.

“Where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?” You murmur as Bucky settles over you.

His lips are on yours in a flash. You both pour all your love into the kiss. Bucky’s hands travel up and down your body before his lips do the same. You sigh happily at finally having him close again after 3 weeks. Unfortunately for both of you there’s another knock at the door.

Bucky almost growls as he rests his forehead against your midsection. He’s so close to what he needs the most but he can’t have it, he can’t have you right now.

“Friday, unlock the door.” Bucky grumbles as he moves to his side of the bed.

Lottie’s sleepy form stands in the doorway, pink teddy bear in hand.

“What’s wrong doll?” Bucky asks as Lottie makes her way over to his side.

“Can habe seepover? I missed you daddy.”

Man’s Bucky’s heart melts at the sleepy confession. And who is he to deny his doll anything? Bucky looks over to you to find that you were trying not to laugh as he pulled Lottie up and sat her down between you too.

“Can I sleep here too?” Henry’s question made you yelp since you hadn’t seen him come in. He giggles sleepily as he starts climbing over you without waiting for an answer.

So Bucky’s first night back is spent with the three of you cuddled up in bed. He can’t be completely disappointed though, just a little frustrated.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next day Bucky woke up to an empty bed. He knew you would have taken the kids to school to let him sleep in more. So he went about his morning as usual. Bucky had some coffee, did some exercise and worked on a few reports in his office. At around 11 am he gets a text from you to come home so he finishes up and heads back.

"Sugar? Is everything alright?" Bucky calls out as he walks in.

"Everything's good."

Bucky walks further into your shared home only to stop in his tracks when he finds you at the bottom of the stairs waiting for him. You were wearing nothing but a robe, hair and make up done. His eyes went straight to your red painted lips.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"Nope. We are staying right here. Steve asked if he could pick up the kids from school and have a sleepover and who was I to deny that request?" You smirk. "Isn't that so nice of him?"

Bucky nods dumbly in response. His body already reacting to the implication that you'll have the rest of the day to yourselves. He's been dying to get his hands on you and showed you just how much he's missed you. But of course it couldn't be that easy. He takes one step towards you and feels like he's being held back, specifically by his left are. Bucky looks at the offending appendage in confusion before he looks back at you.

"Easy there tiger. I spent all morning getting ready for you and you're planning to throw me over your shoulder like a cave man?"

You were the one holding him back. Bucky's eyes darken as he stares you down. His jaw goes slack as you take off the robe and show off the lingerie you were wearing just for him. You looked divine but Bucky wanted to wipe off that little smug smirk you had.

"Sugar, if you don't let me go right now, I won't let you come."

Just like that you let him go. Bucky didn't waste any more time, he marched towards you and did exactly what you said and threw you over his shoulder. You couldn't help but laugh as he practically ran up the stairs and threw you on the bed.

Bucky sighed in relief as he took off his shirt and looked down at you. "Finally, just you and me."

You sit up and help Bucky get rid of his pants. As he begins to kiss you the doorbell rings and he groans.

"You have got to be kidding me. I'm going to murder whoever is on the other side of the door." Bucky says as he starts to get up.

He only stops when you start laughing. Bucky's eyes narrow in suspicion the longer and harder you laugh.

"Was that you?" He asks.

"I'm sorry. I had to do it. You should've seen your face." You start laughing again.

"Oh Sugar, you really shouldn't have done that." The tone in his voice has you stop. He wraps his fingers around your ankle and pulls you towards him. "Now you're really gonna get it."

"I hope so."

Bucky smirks. He takes his time with you. Maybe he even brings you right to the edge of bliss but stops before you're able to orgasm. You pout and tell him it's not fair. But he doesn't budge. Bucky keeps his promise and doesn't let you come, only a few times though.

After he's made his point he shows you just how much he missed you those three weeks. And most importantly, there are no little cockblockers around to stop him.

[nymphomatique]

nerdy, loser miguel so pussy starved and hungry, eating you out with his whole soul, but you just keep degrading him, one hand yanking at his hair and shoving him back down every time he breaches for air and hissing at him because “come on, nerd, you’re the one that begged me for a taste. now do it right or get the fuck out.”

im so normal about this your au is feeding me 🫶🏻

totally not going insane over this ask btw ❤️

cw: munch!miguel makes his return, cunnilingus, fem orgasm, praise, hair pulling, nerd miguel EATS, slight d/s dynamics, one singular slap in the face (sorry)

i can’t like omg imagine his glasses on his head while he’s trying his best to please u :( but you’re his first so he doesn’t know what to do so he tries to lick like he’s seen in the porn videos (which he won’t admit) he watches.

and you’re sooo frustrated because what kind of man doesn’t know where the clit is?? even though miguel means while you won’t stand for it as long as he’s your property!

“been beggin’ to eat my pussy and you’re just waffling down there. pissing me off,” you huff. you grab his head by a handful of his hair and pull him to where his mouth is directly above your clit. “see that? can’t even call you four eyes with your glasses on your head n’all. make sure your mouth stays there. got it?” miguel nods feverishly and looks down expectantly. “you can start again.” you allow him and this time it feels different.

a good different.

you can’t help but you let out a gasp as the expanse of miguel’s tongue licks and sucks on your clit passionately. “f-fuck, you’re doing so good for your mistress right now. keep going.” you breath out, gripping his hair even tighter and pulling him into your sopping wetness.

“taste so good, mmhp,” he moans into you, his hands moving from their place under him to grip at the expanse of your thighs rather tightly. he licks up and down and even sticks his tongue into you, which makes you squeal and close your legs around his head. wordlessly he pushes them apart and pins them down, lifting your pelvis in the process, a small oh! leaving your mouth at his display of strength.

miguel looks at you with a dazed expression on his face before he goes back to licking into your cunt, his nose bumping into your clit as he explores you with his tongue. you can’t control your moans anymore, letting out babbles of “fuuuckkk right there, oh my god miguel- so fucking good for me,” amongst other praises.

“g-gonna come, slow down a bit,” you exhale weakly, feeling the pleasure begin to burn and overwhelm you. but he doesn’t stop, he keeps going as if he’s in a trance, your pulling and pushing at his hair leaving no impression on him.

“oh- oh my god i’m cumming!” you moan out, your whole lower body convulsing. miguel seems to have snapped out of whatever trace he was in and you meet his brown eyes that seem shy once again. his lips are covered in your cum, his cheeks flushed, his skin glowing with the slight sheen of sweat, his hair perfectly tousled thanks to you with his signature black frames sitting atop his head. he has the audacity to ask “d-did i do good?”

you smack him in his face for asking such a stupid fucking question.

you pretend you don’t see his boner after that.

can u tell i got carried away after the first two sentences cus LMAO

[gothcsz]

can we talk about javi angry fucking you? like for some reason you guys are having a HUUGE fight and something inside him just snaps and he takes you then and there, wherever you are. he sets a brutal pace and orders you to say his name but it's so much you can't!? ugh, excuse me, i am ovulating and this thought needed to be shared. I desperately need angry rough javi in my life

tags: f!reader, post s3!javi, established relationship, no use of y/n, reader has hair that can be pulled, reader understands spanish, term(s) of endearment (gatita), angst, cussing, break up, arguing, light dub con, smut, unprotected p in v sex (be safe irl), saliva as lube, a little bit of exhibitionism, creampie, hurt/no comfort i think, javi being an ass, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.

~ 2.1k w/c - gif found on pinterest

a/n: me when i read that you're ovulating. but okay, this prompt was just so angsty and juicy. tyvm for that! i couldn't help but connect this to my fantasize series (you guys should clock in. let's stalk javi together)— but it can totally be read as a standalone! enjoyyyyy 🖤

Dinner with Javier’s family is always a lively affair, filled with chatter, laughter, and the steady clinking of forks and knives against plates.

You’re doing your best to keep up, smiling at the stories being shared and listening to the good-natured teasing from his relatives. But then, one of his cousins starts talking about how Javier’s taking on more responsibilities at the family ranch, taking charge now that Chucho is preparing to step down.

He beams as he talks about it. “You should see Javi. Got the whole thing runnin’ like a machine, and he’ll be takin’ full ownership soon, ain’t that right, Javi?”

You freeze, fork halfway to your mouth. Your eyes snap to your boyfriend, searching his face for any hint of explanation, an acknowledgment, anything that might explain what you’re hearing.

But he just nods with a slight, almost bashful smile, as though this was something you should’ve expected, something he had already told you. Except he hasn’t.

Your heart thuds painfully as your stomach twists, an uncomfortable heat spreading across your face. It’s been months of back-and-forth, of what you thought were shared dreams about moving to the city together, finding a way to make things work while your career takes off.

You’d convinced yourself you were on the same page. But here he is, making other plans, without even thinking to tell you.

You try to keep your tone light, but there’s an unmistakable edge in your voice. “Taking full ownership, huh? Guess that’s news to me.”

Javier shifts in his seat, glancing at you with a look that’s half-warning, half-apologetic. “I am his only son. It makes sense,” he responds, very matter-of-factly.

His family’s already watching, sensing the shift in the air, and there’s no pulling back now.

“Funny, I thought we were still talking about our plans to move to the city,” you force a smile on your lips, but the sting behind your words is unmistakable.

He sighs, clearly getting exasperated, looking at you as if to say, Not here. You can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes, the quiet confusion as they look between you both, piecing together the fragments of a conversation they aren’t meant to hear.

You swallow hard, unable to bear the mix of embarrassment and betrayal.

Pushing back from the table, you excuse yourself, your voice tight. “I need a minute.”

You make it inside, rushing up the stairs and into his bedroom, gathering your things with shaking hands. You know he’s going to follow you, and sure enough, a moment later, you hear the door creak open, then his heavy footsteps.

“What the hell was that?” He demands in a sharp tone, confusion and anger lacing his words.

You spin around, dropping your things onto the bed as you plant your hands on your hips. “Why didn’t you tell me about these new plans of yours, Javier?” 

He sighs heavily, hating when you use his full name, rolling his tongue over his teeth as he tries to find the right words. “Because I knew you’d be upset,” he says flatly, as though it’s an explanation that should satisfy you.

That’s his justification for keeping this from you? The anger inside you flares hotter, bubbling over as you let out a bitter laugh. “So instead, I get to sit there like a fool, blindsided, while your cousin tells me about the future you’re planning without even thinking to clue me in?”

“God, would you calm down?” he mutters, frustration tightening his features. “This isn’t something we need to talk about right now.”

You’re practically shaking, hurt clawing at you. “You don’t get it, do you? You said you’d try this with me. You promised we’d make this work together, that you’d support my career—our future.”

“This is me trying!” he snaps back, his voice rising in frustration. “Why are you being so damn selfish? I can’t just leave my pops to run this place by himself. He’s not getting any younger.”

You search his face, trying to understand, but all you see is irritation and defensiveness.

“He has other ranch hands. Other family. You promised.”

His eyes narrow, and he takes a step closer, his jaw clenched. “Why are you making this all about you?” he growls. “If I’d known things would end up like this, I would have left you back in Colombia.”

You’re stunned momentarily, speechless as the weight of his words sinks in.

You shake your head slowly, your voice cold as you look up at him. “You’re a piece of shit, Javier. I can’t believe you would say that to me.”

Your words strike a nerve, a phrase that’s been said to him by plenty of people yet hurting the most when you’re the one saying it. His eyes darken, expression shifting. “What did you just say?” he murmurs, cocking his head as he takes slow steps toward you.

“I said you’re a piece of shit, Javier,” you repeat, steady despite the tremor running through you. “And I’m done with—”

Before you can finish, his hand reaches up, wrapping around your throat tightly yet with careful pressure, and he pulls you close, lips crashing against yours in a kiss that’s unyielding and bruising.

Despite the fury burning inside you, your body responds, helplessly drawn to the passion only he can ignite.

Your hands find his shoulders, gripping tightly as he presses you back against the wall, swallowing the soft gasp that escapes your lips when a few of the photo frames rattle.

His mouth is punishing and you can barely breathe with how tight he’s holding you, but there’s something undeniably thrilling about it that licks right through you, even as the hurt from before lingers.

When he finally releases his hold on your neck, his hands become fervent, moving roughly along your body as if claiming you all over again.

Harshly groping your breasts, moving down to cup your ass— you can’t pull him close enough to let this anger turn into the twisted relief you both need.

Clothes fall away in frantic pulls and tugs, shirts and pants pooling on the floor, discarded and forgotten. Between desperate fingers and tongues, you’re too aware that, if you part, the argument will bubble back up, and you don’t want that to happen yet.

His lips move over your skin, leaving love bites that blaze hot and brand you with the one of a kind feeling of him.

You grip his triceps, nails digging in as you drink each other’s breaths, tasting the tension between you, until you’re bare, and your bodies meet in a tangle of angry lust.

He maneuvers you toward the window, your hands bracing against the glass instinctively, the cold against your chest making you gasp.

He presses against you from behind, his body heat searing, grounding you in the storm of emotions that threaten to pull you under.

Your bare breasts flatten against the window, and the chill of the glass has your nipples puckering.

He spits into his hand, tugging at his cock, running it through the sticky mess of your cunt before thrusting into you, making you take every glorious inch all at once.

You gasp loudly, almost choking on the sound. It’s intense, too much, yet somehow exactly what you need, pulling you deeper into the unfiltered feeling pulsing between you.

You aren’t as wet as he usually gets you, and the burn from the stretch of fitting him inside your tight, wet cunt  mimics the burn you’d felt in your heart at his indifference towards you. His girlfriend.

Javier leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he growls, “If they look over here, they’ll see you taking this cock like a real selfish slut.”

The words have your shivering, shocking and exhilarating, just as he is, and your head tilts back as you let out a strangled, breathy moan.

“Causing a scene in front of everyone,” he tuts mockingly, “¿No tienes modales, gatita?” (Don't you have manners?)

Your fingers splay against the window, nails scratching down the surface, making a grating sound, as he thrusts harder, each punch of his cock against that one specific weak spot is sending you closer to the edge.

His rhythm is exacting and every bit of you is caught between the pressure of the cold glass and the heat of his body.

“Say my name,” he orders, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging it harshly, holding you firm against his shoulder as he glares down at you, eyes glazed over with need and his dark brows pulled together in a frown.

Your scalp stings at the pull, pretty eyes rolling to the back of your head and your throat tightens, making it impossible for words to escape you. Your pussy throbs around him, losing the fight against the sensations he’s overwhelming you with.

“Say it,” he demands again, his voice roughened with irritation, but the pace continues to be relentless, borderline uncomfortable, your body bending to his will.

He’s pushed you to a point where you’re nothing but a quivering, whiny mess. The friction of your nipples rubbing against the glass leaves them tender and raw, adding another edge of pleasure-pain.

“Got you all fucked out you can’t even say my damn name.” He chuckles humorously, but it’s drowned out by a low groan as his cock twitches inside of you, the sound of your ass slapping back against his pelvis echoing throughout the room. 

“C’mon gatita, tell me who’s making you feel this good even when you’re pissed off.”

The way he taunts you makes your blood boil, and you have half a mind to turn around and slap him—but it’s so fucking hot and you’re not going to lie to yourself about that.

Instead, you smirk and deliberately clench around him, watching him groan as his fingers tighten in your hair. 

“No seas asi. Say it.” (Don't be like that) He pushes you forward, cheek smushed against the window as his palm presses into your lower back, arching you even more, and that has his cock fucking you at a different angle that is much more overwhelming than the last.

“Ay Javi!” You can’t help but exclaim, some of your saliva landing on the glass from how you spit his name out.

He smirks to himself, that’s all he needs to let his own orgasm rip through him. With one last harsh thrust, he grips your hips, driving deep, a sharp cry breaks free as pleasure shatters through you, your body shaking with release, unable to form a single coherent thought except his name.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, burying his cock fully inside you, his heavy balls pressing against your swollen clit as he fills your cunt with his load.

His forehead falls against your shoulder, teeth then nipping at the damp skin until he’s kissing up to bury his face in your neck.

Your brain is foggy, and it takes a few seconds of you trying to catch your breath before your heart and mind are in sync again and the argument that led to this resurfaces. 

“Javier,” you murmur, your throat scratchy, and you swallow before you can go on, “we shouldn’t have done that.”

He scoffs, pulling out of you, making the both of you hiss. You feel his warm cum leaking from your spent pussy and your thighs twitch, inadvertently making more of it flow out. You quickly bend down to grab your underwear, using it to clean yourself, trying to clear both the physical and emotional remnants of him.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you’re already moving, pulling on your clothes. “I’m done.”

Fully dressed, you watch his expression shift, and it almost makes you second-guess the words you’re about to say. Almost.

“We gave it a shot and clearly, it’s not working. Nuestras prioridades no se alinean.” (Our priorities don't align)

“No seas ridícula,” (Don't be ridiculous) he waves you off and that makes you feel so small. “What’s best for us is to stay here.”

You laugh dryly at the sting of his dismissal. You’re tempted to pinch yourself to check if this is real—wondering if this is the same Javier that practically begged you to come back to the States with him.

He’s not acting like the agent you fell in love with.

“No, what’s best is for us to go our separate ways.” Finality settles into the quiet like stones. “We rushed into this, we let the chase and the sex take the lead without thinking it through.” You shake your head, haphazardly packing to keep from falling apart entirely.

“I should have seen this coming. I’m such an idiot.” Now I see why a handsome man like you was single.

You should have remained the woman you were before him, independent, career focused—the one that avoided relationships like the plague because they only ended in disappointment.

Case in point. 

He remains silent as he watches you pack the rest of your things and it really breaks your heart. He isn’t even trying to stop you.

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @persephone-girl . @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @angiewatson . @sunshinefive .

[sebsxphia]

admiral jake when you’re wearing a sundress..

￫ warnings: breeding kink and sex.

￫ authors notes: tee hee! thank you so much for this incredible thot, my dear anon! 💌

i can picture this on a sunday morning. you’re getting ready to visit admiral cyclone and his family. since jake became an admiral himself, a far greater respect had been built up between the two of them.

jake was tying your little girls shoes as he asked with a smile, “where’s your mama, hm?”

she squealed in response as she saw you coming through the doorway, with your barely one year old little boy attached to your hip.

“here i am!” you cheerfully replied.

jake looked up and immediately his throat went dry. he licked at his bottom lip to try and gather some salvia as he took in the breathtaking sight of you.

suddenly, he was back in the hard deck when he met you for the first time and you were wearing a pretty little sundress.

it was the first time that you had worn one this year and jake could feel himself twitch. it covered and hugged every inch and every curve of your body. it wasn’t revealing by any means, but jake thought that you might as well have worn his favourite set of lingerie.

once all four of you were ready to leave, jake gave you a soft kiss on your lips and caught your ear.

“do you remember what happened when you wore that last?”

“mhm, he’s right here.” you chided with an all knowing smirk and squeezing at your little boy on your hip.

jake let out a low grunt and squeezed at your ass through your sundress. you had to bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop the squeal escaping you.

the day had gone by in a flurry and went off without a hitch.

jake now had your hair fisted in his palm and another gripping onto your hip. he was scrunching up your sundress material into his knuckles as he fucked you deeply from behind on your shared bed, with your kids fast asleep.

“so fuckin’ pretty for your admiral, aren’t you sweets? you goin’ to give your admiral permission to breed you again?”

the illusion of family dad jake was shattered.

this was admiral jake fucking you within an inch of your life.

[nijntjen]

tommy has 100% broken no contact, or at least spent hours looking at their dms thinking of what to say, like he so clearly misses him, i mean look at him, he's practically cloned himself into being a blonde ws in every aspect under the sun, he has his hair, he has his humour, he has his body language, he has his fashion, i don't even think he did it on purpose, i think he just feels like something is missing and he's told himself to grow up and get over it, but he subconsciously cannot picture an adult man better than ws, his dad divorced his codependent mother, techno sends him into a spiral, and i think he feels betrayed by phil in the same codependent way he feels upset at his father because of how loudly anti-ws phil has been , so that leaves the only "safe" option as ws, since i really doubt tommy sees anything wrong with how ws treated HIM personally...

n if i had to place bets i'd say tom found out about ws, initially cut off ws in a vvv gentle way like not talking to him for a week/ leaving him on read, wrote the statement tweet "i'll speak on it when i'm ready", n then got a ws gaslighting session for the ages via shitty tour bus facetime, like i truly believe he was angry at ws, but ran away from the option of confronting him bc ws did literally groom him, just not in a sexual way (god i hope not)

n i truly doubt sarah helped when he talked about it with her, i think she would've just made tom doubt himself more in her own efforts to console herself that she did the right thing for him, it's a shit situation, n he's either gotta make sure he takes it to his grave, or stop it immediately bc it WILL blow up in his face eventually and it will Not Be Pretty

he has really sweet intentions but he will kill himself in the pursuit of keeping everyone happy, he's burning the candle at both ends.

i'm very autistic about him he's like a mouse in a maze but the cheese at the end is codependent familial figures, both literal and adoptive...

each part of this felt like a vine boom sound effect straight to the chest

[tarzelladraws]

You’ve Got Mail AU for romcom bingo! This is one of my mom’s favorites & dad loves to quote it and say “don’t cry shop girl” when we have allergies and sniffle 🤧

[star1117-archives]

Hybrid!yandere ateez jealous because they smell another hybrid on you 👉👈👀please.

Sorry that it’s been over a year 💀 I was gonna make this into a series but I’m just gonna try and upload a few more things before I consider going inactive

dragon!hybrid!seonghwa x bunny!y/n

cw: jealousy, marking, mentions of another idol (nct’s jeno)

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 + 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ♡ -𝟏𝟔’𝐬 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

he was in pure disbelief at first

as one of the senior members of the hybrid community in your area, he had quite a few affiliations within it and recognised most hybrid’s scents

which was why he was so shocked to smell the notorious Lee Jeno all over his cute little bunny

Jeno was known far and wide for his promiscuity, leaving many hybrids of all types feeling empty and broken-hearted after he became bored

all that aside, it felt wrong on so many levels for a wolf to be preying on his sweet little bunny, especially with Jeno’s natural disposition to hunt you

so his gaze turned cold when you fidgeted uncomfortably, knowing Seonghwa could smell Jeno on you

Seonghwa’s fury began to kick in as your embarrassment made your head hang low, body shaking under his glowering. pacing to you, Seonghwa picked you up and took you to the bathroom, the action commanding, yet he still made sure to be careful with you. you shook in Seonghwa’s arms, holding on and whispering to him quietly, barely audible.

‘I told him no. He… he sniffed me quite a bit but he didn’t do anything.’

Seonghwa didn’t even look at you as he replied, jaw gritted yet tone of voice surprisingly calm.

‘If he did anything to you, he wouldn’t be around to gloat about it for long.’

the expression on Seonghwa’s face told you his words were no joke

he spent the next few hours painstakingly cleaning you over and over, Jeno’s scent gone but the feeling lingering in Seonghwa’s nostrils like a curse

Seonghwa nearly rubbed your skin raw to be rid of Lee fucking Jeno, only stopping when you whimpered quietly, ears drooping as you shook in the now-cold bath water

‘H-hwa… hurts-s.’

sighing, Seonghwa pressed an apologetic kiss to your forehead before letting his fingers scratch behind your ears in your favourite spot. that precious smile he’d withheld all day broke free from his mask of neutral displeasure, much to your delight. your ears perked up in response, melting under his touch as he hummed quietly before speaking.

‘you’d never leave me, right bun?’

eagerly nodding, you beamed up at him before extending your pinky to him.

‘promise!’

he interlocked his finger with yours, pressing your thumbs together as you beamed up at him. Seonghwa looked you over one more time before grabbing a towel and wrapping it around you, helping you get out the bath soon after. shivering in the cold, you happily jumped into Seonghwa’s arms when he opened them, resting your head on his chest and feeling his strong heartbeat as he murmured quietly to you. 

‘maybe you should… take some time off from the cafe.’

when he saw your confused expression, Seonghwa elaborated.

‘if Jeno comes to you while you’re working, you’ll basically be stuck there. He might be more… brazen than sniffing.’

your eyes widened at this, fear grasping them just as Seonghwa had expected. you were easy to manipulate, he just had to make Jeno into the big bad wolf and himself into the protector.

‘you’re right, Hwa… I-.. It’s for the best.’

Seonghwa gave you an approving smile and rewarded you with a scratch behind your ears, watching dotingly as you snuggled into his chest with a warm smile.

‘my poor little bunny… I’ll keep you safe, hm?’

giving him a small kiss to his cheek, you gazed at him with stars in your eyes, totally smitten.

‘thank you, Seonghwa. Thank you for keeping me safe.’

Seonghwa reciprocated with a short but sweet kiss to your lips, his gaze holding the same if not stronger intensity.

‘I’ll always keep you safe bun, I’ll keep you safe till my very last breath. I won’t let anything happen to you.’