#jealous!satine
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maulfucker · 2 months ago
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just rembered I was gonna say. it could've been so so funny if Maul had decided to steal Obi-Wan's "girlfriend" instead of killing her in front of him - heartbreak may not be the strongest pain, but it would last longer than grief. he can behave when he has to, and he certainly can behave as more diplomatic than Vizsla, making himself the lesser of two evils for her. and in exchange for her hand, he will return the throne of Mandalore for its rightful ruler. he insists on inviting Obi-Wan to the wedding just to make him uncomfortable. somehow Obi-Wan ends up dragged into their "honeymoon night" (debating politics, business, ethics and other "fun" topics in varying states of undress). (it's unexpectedly actually fun because they are like a trio of angels and demons on each other's shoulders.) he fails to leave before sunrise and gets spotted by the staff delivering breakfast in bed. rumors are uncertain on whose lover he is - the duchess's, her new consort's, or both. Obi-Wan hates it. Maul hates it too, but he leans into it because making Obi-Wan uncomfortable is like microdosing revenge. Satine is equal parts delighted and scandalized.
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susanoosama01 · 1 year ago
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AU in which almost all Jedi do political marriages to stop any conflict:
Obi Wan got married a few times. Satine was married to him for a few months but they got the marriage annulled because Mandalorians didn't like their Duchess being married to a Jedi. His other spouses include a ruler of a slave trade planet to put a stop to that, a few ambassadors from Separatist worlds in an effort to pull them towards the republic and Bail Organa.
Anakin almost burned the Temple down when the Council tasked Obi Wan to marry a slave trader King. Also he was in chronic fits of jealousy during the two years that Obi Wan and Bail Organa were married because he could easily tell that Obi Wan actually liked being married to Bail.
Master Mundi still has 4 wives.
Plo Koon is married to one of the Creche Masters because, well, no one knows. They just cuddle the younglings together and they are sooo happy about it.
Jocasta Nu was married to Count Dooku. They got divorced when he left the Order.
This whole thing is why Qui Gon Jinn was trying to charm Shmi. He could just marry her if he couldn't win Anakin in gambling. :'D
Anakin was never married to anyone. The Council doesn't trust him to stay still.
Mace Windu was somehow married to a Hutt when he was a Padawan only for a few short weeks and only to get intel out of the Hutt Clan. He is still traumatized about it but at least he speaks Hutteese. Anakin will never know from where Master Windu learned the word sleemo. Also, Cham Syndulla in Ryloth almost became his new spouse but they resolved the matter so it was never brought up again. His current wife is a young woman who is Count Dooku's great-niece or smt. and who got help from the Temple in her youth because of her force sensitivity. She is influential in the Separatist Worlds. She adopted a baby clone that was going to be destroyed somehow. She is a kind and calm woman who helps to settle Mace down when he sees a shatter point in the Force.
Obi Wan was lowkey into marrying Jango Fett after Kamino.
Something happened in Naboo so Padmé strategically planned to get into a short political marriage with a Jedi. The Council tasked Obi Wan. Anakin almost turned to the dark side but he was too busy trying to decide who he was jealous about between the two. Thankfully, that marriage didn't happen.
Palpatine asked for Anakin to be married to himself while he was grooming him for the Dark Side. He told Anakin that he would never be a slave again if he was with the Chancellor and the Council Masters didn't want to allow this because none of their spouses were as strong and important.
Ashoka dutifully accepted a marriage with a Separatist Lord. Anakin and Rex kidnapped her from her own wedding while Obi Wan and Padmé found her a way out.
Basically it goes like this: Conflict? Let's check the list of available Jedi.
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cerealbishh · 2 years ago
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He's been searching for a mate And now it looks like fate A gift from God above!
🎥: @starcuffedjeans
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moowithmidnight · 8 months ago
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Trying to be like that autistic girl on TikTok who just goes from ranting about the insidious yet stupid nature of Bloom’s advertising techniques to her Hayffie headcanons in like a week and her audience listens to both-
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cottonraincoat · 1 year ago
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coming to you from insomniamaniatown but it would make me really happy if you read my padme/satine fic ;3;
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lesboyajaceare · 24 days ago
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ughhhhhh
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mrsparrasblog · 5 months ago
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College roommate Ghost pt 2
pt1
College Ghost who walks shirtless in your dorm all the time just to bother you.
College Ghost who sees you do your silly night routine that leaves you smelling like cinnamon, strawberries, vanilla, and all that stuff.(He says you stink but smells your sheets when you shower)
College Ghost who thinks about ripping those silly pink satin pajamas off your body.
College Ghost who wakes up every day watching you do pilates and mocks you for it, "Never done a real workout, princess?"
College Ghost who hates you so much that he doesn't stop talking about you to Price, Gaz, and Soap.
College Ghost who sleeps with the complete opposite of you( girl male with different features) and just can't cum.
College Ghost who is only meaner to you since that accident.
College Ghost who walks in on you getting pounded in the community shower by your trust fund law boyfriend, while all you do is stare at the wall, hoping the miserable sex is soon over.
College Ghost who is definitely not jealous, never.
College Ghost who, on one of his drunk nights, brings home a girl he knows you hate and fucks her while you are peacefully asleep in the bed right next to him.
College Ghost who never thought you could be that furious, and regretted his choices when you told him that it didn't surprise you because he wasn't anything more than an insufferable man-whore brute.
College Ghost who was kinda sad but would never admit it when you stopped talking to him for a week after the incident.
College Ghost who drank himself into oblivion every night and hated waking up to your usual "choke on it" note with the aspirin.
College Ghost who walks in on you having a fight with your boyfriend, seeing how your boyfriend just hit you.
College Ghost who sends you to your room straight away, acting like a wall to protect you.
College Ghost who loses control and punches that man into the hospital.
College you who would never fall for Simon Riley; he was just a brute who hated your guts, right?
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nanaslutt · 10 months ago
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Man child Gojo Satoru
synopsis: you and Gojo have a newborn, and he's jealous of the little brat taking up all your attention
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cont: fem reader, established relationship, dirty talk, lactation kink (very brief), gojo is a big baby, oral(f!r), masturbation, jealousy
MDNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
You press a kiss to the little boy's head, his pretty white hair resembling that of his father's tickling your cheek as you pull away. You place your hands on the side of the crib and smile at the little man before you walk out of his room, leaving the door slightly cracked as you leave.
You and Satoru had placed the baby's room adjacent to your own so you could hear him crying easily, it also made you feel better about being so close to him. He was your whole world, aside from the other man baby who was currently standing in your bedroom doorway with his arms crossed, only dressed in a white t-shirt and tight boxers.
Satoru opened his arms as he welcomed your embrace, your body falling against his as you melted against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. "Every day I thank the gods we didn't end up with a fussy baby. He goes to sleep so easy." Gojo smiled, placing his chin on the top of your head. 
You pulled your head off of his chest and looked at him deadpan, "and he sure as hell didn't get that from you." you jabbed before pulling away and slipping under his arm as you entered your bedroom. Satoru was hot on your tail, turning on his heels quickly he kicked the bedroom door shut, following you in your pursuit towards the bed.
"Are you tryna pick a fight with me right now?" Gojo teased, raising his eyebrows as your body bounced on the bed as you sat on the edge. Your eyes followed his as he quickly made his way between your legs, standing between them. You shut your eyes as Gojo cupped your face, his fingers caressing the skin of your cheeks and neck soothingly. You hummed at his comforting touch, letting your hands instinctually reach out and rest weakly against his hips.
"I have no energy to fight with you." You responded, leaning your head against one of Gojo's palms as he kept up the touch, his watchful eyes taking in the gorgeous expanse of your tired face. Gojo hummed, his pitch raising in a question, "You? Have no energy to fight with me?" Gojo asked in astonishment, letting out a small giggle at his own words.
You nodded, obviously sleepy enough that you were even unable to respond to his teasing. "Awww, poor baby." Gojo cooed, trying to hide his teasing tone behind faux sympathy. Your hands fell to his hair as he got down on his knees slowly, one leg after the other, until his chest was pressed against the side of the bed as he laid between your legs.
"Want me to help you relax, mommy? Satoru teased, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs, his fingers teasing the skin of your legs hidden by the soft satin of your night shorts. You sighed heavily, your hands carding through his hair your husband continued to pepper soft kisses agaisnt your legs, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. 
"Satoru..." You sighed, your head tipping back as he inched his lips closer and closer to where you knew you needed him the most. Gojo was so nimble, always waiting until your weakest moment when he knew you couldn't refuse him to pounce. Satoru never once stopped his soft lips from caressing your skin, not even when he slipped his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and started sliding them down, over your ass, and down the soft skin of your legs.
Gojo's hungry eyes took in the bareness of your cunt. He loved that you didn't wear panties when you slept, it made certain sunrise activities way more convenient and accessible to Gojo. He could smell your arousal from the proximity of your cunt to his face. He so badly wanted to lean in and part your folds with his tongue, exposing just how wet you were between them. He could feel himself start to salivate just thinking about it.
"Satoru not tonight... I'm so tired." You pleaded, no real seriousness behind your words, and Gojo knew that. "I know baby, I know. Don't gotta do anything, just lay back and let me make you feel good. Let me do allllll the work~" Gojo cooed in his teasing sing sing-songy voice, his breath tickling your skin as he pressed a kiss to the inner spot where your leg and body meet. 
You laid back against the sheets, your body falling into them with a soft 'thwump' as the smooth silk welcomed your tired body. Gojo sat up on his knees and placed your thighs over his shoulders, getting into position before he properly ate you out. "Satoru..." You tried to protest weekly, your exhaustion hitting you tenfold when the sheets caressed your body so comfortingly, like they were trying to lull you into dreamland as you lay there.
"I haven't touched you in weeks because of that kid. He gets your attention more than I do these days." Gojo sulked, "Don't push me away." His words were followed by his hands squeezing your thighs harder as he held them over his shoulders. You cracked a smile at his words, your head tipping down slightly so you could look at him as you spoke, "Satoru, he's a baby, are you really jealous of a baby?" You ask, holding back a laugh.
You were unable to keep your head up for long. The soreness seeping into your bones made you drop your head back against the sheets before he could respond. "A baby that sees your tits more than I do..." Satoru tsked, pursing his lips as he pouted, trying to look at your face. "My tits," you repeated the vulgar word, "are his food, Satoru." You responded, shaking your head at his childishness.
"They could be mine too....." Gojo mumbled, his voice almost quiet enough that you missed it. Satoru was groveling for a reason you were very familiar with. You let him try your breast milk before the baby was born, and clearly, that had been a huge mistake. Not only had Gojo gotten to suck on your tits and relieve you of your pain, but he got to taste another part of you, and from the first drop, he has been addicted.
You only let him try your milk one other time before the baby was born and he curses you every day for not letting him taste you more, because the little milk monster you popped out was a gluttonous baby cow. He greedily drank up all of your milk every time he fed, and cried for more. Which was good for you and the baby, but the worst thing imaginable for Gojo. 
You knew Gojo would get addicted, which is why you limited his supply before the baby was born, but clearly, two times was too many to expose him to such a rare treat. "For the last time, this is food for our baby child, not my grown man child." You sighed, some of your snarkiness coming back to you as Gojo's warm hands and lips caressed your skin, waking you up a bit. 
"I don't care how many times you tell me that, I'm not going to get over it." Satoru retorted, resting his head against your thigh in defeat, the soft strands of his hair tickling your skin and he rubbed against you. You sighed before you spoke, your eyes darting around the ceiling as you gathered your words. "Are you... really feeling neglected...?" You asked, your thighs subtly squeezing against Gojo's neck as you felt your arousal start to creep up on you.
Gojo perked up at your words, his fingers teasing the skin of your thighs as he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the skin right above your clit, teasing you. "So neglected baby... just wanna taste my wife's pussy and I can't even do that." Gojo pouted, putting on his best act. He had you right where he wanted you. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment, your eyes falling shut as you pulled your lip between your teeth.
"O-okay, do whatever you want just... don't take too long, I really am exhausted, Toru." You gave in, gripping the silk sheets between your fingers by your side as you spoke. Gojo's grin grew twice the size, a satisfied humm left his lips before he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss directly on your clit, making your body jolt in surprise. "You know I never do," Gojo replied cockily. 
Satoru's lips latched around your clit not even a second later, his eagerness clearly showing. His eyes rolled back in his head as he tasted your juices on his tongue as he licked up your folds before focusing on your clit, his tongue batting against it and sending delicious pleasure down your spine. Your stomach clenched and your back arched when he moaned against you, the vibrations stimulating your clit just right.
"Oh- oh fuck-" You moaned, a little too loud for Gojo's liking. "Shhhh... we aren't alone anymore. I know it feels good but you gotta keep it down. Don't wanna wake the kiddo." Gojo cooed, his voice coming out slurred from how pussydrunk he already was. Normally, he wouldn't give a fuck how loud you were being, and would instead encourage you to be louder, but he knew rationally that if the baby woke up right now, you would bite his head off. 
You were trusting Satoru and leaving everything to him in such a vulnerable, sleepy state, and Gojo was going to prove to you he could hold that responsibility. So although the only thing he wanted was to get lost in your cunt while he made you scream and shake on his tongue, he had to keep some part of his brain functioning rationally so you could relax and be at ease while he took care of everything. 
"Here," Gojo added, reaching by his side to grab your nightshorts. He placed them on your midsection, flicking them towards you with his fingers. "Bite this for me, you can be as loud as you want if you're gagged," he explained, watching as your glassy, unfocused eyes looked down at the cloth before you used a weak hand to grab it and stuff it in your mouth. 
"Good girl mama, now just feel good for me." You placed both of your hands over your mouth, gripping onto the fabric to support yourself and also keep yourself quiet. When Gojo's tongue went to work on you once more, your head started spinning. You felt so out of it, each lick and kiss he placed on your cunt only relaxed your further, making you sleepier and sleepier.
Gojo, on the other hand, was feeling quite the opposite. He had abandoned one of his hands on your legs around his shoulders and had slipped it in his boxers, jerking himself off as he ate you out. He matched his strokes with his tongue as he licked you inside and out, making sure his tongue touched every inch of you. his pretty flushed cockhead poked out from the band of his boxers and was leaking precum all over his fingers as he needily jerked himself off.
Gojo moaned when he opened his mouth against you to stick his tongue inside you, and your walls immediately clenched around it. "Fuck- I missed this so much," Gojo whined between thrusts of his tongue. "You taste so good, mmm-" His eyes rolled back in his head, "-could do this forever." You were too out of it to notice the squelching of Gojo's hand furiously stroking over his cock while he tonguefucked you.
You thought the shaking bed was from your body, when in fact it was from Gojo's hand. He was trembling against you, feeling so overwhelmed as he took in your taste and scent after being without it for so long. You were unable to respond from the cloth shoved so deep in your mouth, that all you could do was reach one of your hands into his hair and grip it harshly, letting you know you heard his words and reciprocated them.
Your head thrashed side to side against the sheets as his soft, careful sucks turned needy and sloppy. His tongue spelled his name quickly agaisnt your clit before his lips wrapped around it and he suckled, hard, making your back arch dramatically off the bed from the intense stimulation. Gojo laughed against your folds, totally pussydrunk as his mouth moved against you.
His teeth grazed your folds as he opened and closed his mouth against you, his tongue spreading messily against your cunt as he tried to suck in as much as he could of you into his mouth. He had to grip his cock harshly at the base to prevent himself from cumming too soon. He could tell you were close, he just needed to hold out a little longer.
"Fuck... wanna hear you tell me how good it feels." Gojo blabbed, his hand stuttering over his cock as he started losing his pace, his voice vibrating against you as he spoke, making your body jerk and jolt against him, your cunt humping into his mouth simultaneously. "W-wanna hear you cry my name when you cum for me-" he continued, his own words working himself up as he ate you out with more vigor.
Your legs clamped shut around his head as you were worked up to the edge by Gojo's expert tongue licking over your folds. You wanted to respond, you really did, but the both of you knew if you took out your gag, you would wake the baby. "Your so wet- f-fuck so fucking wet, you gonna cum?" Gojo wined, jerking himself off faster when he picked up on all the telltale signs of your orgasm. 
You nodded, your whines increasing in volume, still significantly muffled by the gag. "Oh god- me too- cum on my face- n-need you to-" You cut his pussy drunk rambling off by using the last of the strength you had to shove his head into your pussy, forcing him to shut up and eat you out. Gojo's eyes fluttered back in his head at your show of dominance as you took what you needed, humping your hips against his mouth as you used his tongue to get you off.
Gojo's nails dug into your thigh when his orgasm hit him with yours. His eyes rolled back repeatedly in his head and his abs clenched as he came all over his fist and the edge of the bed. Hot ropes of white cum sticking to his skin and the silk sheets as he released his thick load, wishing he was cumming inside you instead. You rode your high out with him, your body shaking and trembling with the force as you jerked forward with every wave of your orgasm that washed over you.
You gasped and whined muffled slurs of Satoru's name against the silk as you came, hard. Gojo kept sloppily working his tongue on your clit right up until your legs loosened from around his neck, allowing him to breathe. You both jerked every so often as the aftershocks wracked your body. Satoru's hands caressed the skin of your thighs soothingly as he helped you come down.
Your breathing slowly started to even out as you relaxed more and more, letting your husband's warm hands lull you closer and closer to dreamland. You could barely register the praise he was cooing at you as your body relaxed agaisnt him. 
"Good girl did so good for me."
"Made such a mess on my face."
"I love you so much, thank you" 
His words all muddled into one as your eyes finally fluttered shut as you fell unconscious. Gojo rose from his place between your legs, confused as to why you were being so quiet. When his eyes settled on your familiar sleeping face, he smiled softly, shaking his head as he tucked his cock back in his pants and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 
He giggled as he realized the cloth was still in your mouth. Leaning forward while smirking, he easily pulled out the garment from between your lips and replaced it with his own as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, slightly cracked open from pulling the gag out.
He leaned back from the kiss and slid his hands down your unconscious body, watching how steady your breath was, and how relaxed you looked. He slid his hands under your arms and held your limp body against his chest as he situated the two of you under the covers, placing your body on top of his as he wrapped his arms against you, snuggling you as you slept so peacefully. "Glad I licked your pussy now, huh?" Gojo laughed, "You're gonna sleep like a baby tonight~" 
He hoped you didn't mind the stickiness between your thighs from your cum when you woke up in the morning. He was only planning on holding you for a couple of minutes, just wanting to relish the feeling of your body against his before he cleaned you up. But unbeknownst to him, he was a lot more tired than he initially thought, leading him to join you in dreamland within those five minutes.
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pin-k-ink · 6 months ago
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thirst // kageyama tobio
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tw ⇢ friends to lovers, jealous sex, possessive!tobio, lingerie, unprotected sex, manhandling, dirty talk, nipple play, titjob
wc ⇢ 3.1k
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"If you keep wandering around the mall like a hungry nomad, your feet are going to bleed." Tobio eyed your overloaded shopping bags with a mixture of exhaustion and amusement.
You stuck your tongue out at your best friend's teasing. Though the spring day was warm, you relished the coolness of the air-conditioned shopping plaza after hours of storefront hopping.
"Says the guy who spends entire days on the court practicing serves until his shoes wear through." You nudged him playfully with your elbow. "This is cardio for shoppers."
Tobio chuckled, running a hand through his raven locks. As athletes, you both lived by pushing your bodies to the limit - whether that was on the volleyball court for him or outside the dressing room for you.
With a sigh, he resigned himself to more carrying and following as you led the way toward another blindingly well-lit storefront. Your face brightened with childlike excitement at the lacy displays in the windows.
"Oooh, let's go in here!" You grabbed his muscular forearm, pulling him along excitedly. "I need to replenish my underwear supply."
Tobio's eyes widened almost comically as he took in the word "Intimate Apparel" spelled out in a calligraphic logo. A rosy blush crept up the back of his neck, but he allowed you to tug him inside the upscale lingerie boutique.
The boutique's plush crimson carpet muffled your footsteps as you eagerly browsed the satin and lace-trimmed displays. Tobio trailed awkwardly behind, the tips of his ears still tinged pink from embarrassment. Surely as your oldest friend he'd accompanied you lingerie shopping before, but the experience never failed to fluster him.
You ran your fingers along a silk negligee, admiring the delicate floral embroidery. "What do you think, Tobio? This one's pretty."
He swallowed hard, averting his gaze. "I, uh, yyeah. It's...nice."
Sensing his discomfort, you let the filmy fabric fall back against the mannequin's curves. With a teasing grin, you decided to have a little fun at your easily-flustered friend's expense.
"Oh wow, look at this!" You gestured toward a particularly risqué teddy with tantalizing peekaboo cutouts. "Maybe I should get this and finally snag myself a boyfriend to model it for."
Tobio made a small choking sound in the back of his throat. You laughed at the bright red now staining his chiseled features.
Before he could sputter a retort, a petite blonde salesgirl materialized at your side. "That's one of our lacier numbers," she said approvingly. "Very popular with the daring crowd looking to spoil their lovers."
"Well, I don't currently have a lover to spoil," you replied with a wistful pout. "Maybe I'll get it anyway in hopes of someday landing a special someone..."
You made a show of examining the flimsy negligee, tugging at the shimmery fabric as if gauging how it might hug your figure's curves. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Tobio's reaction intently.
The salesgirl watched your teasing display with an indulgent smile. When you glanced over at Tobio, you found he had wandered a few paces away, studiously examining a display of silk robes. His broad shoulders were tense, whether from discomfort or restraint you couldn't say.
"You know..." The salesgirl leaned in conspiratorially. "If you really want to knock his socks off, you should take a look at our specialty Brazilian line."
Your brows shot up as she led you toward a curtained-off section with a neon "Sexy" sign. Taking in the sheer, fringed confections on the mannequins, you felt your cheeks grow warm.
"These are...wow. Definitely bold," you murmured, running a fingertip along a minuscule G-string. The floss-like scrap of stringing and ribbons could hardly be called underwear at all.
The salesgirl's eyes danced mischievously. "For the woman who wants to drive her man wild. I'd bet you could get that tall, gorgeous friend of yours hot and bothered in two seconds flat wearing one of these numbers."
You threw a furtive glance in Tobio's direction, suddenly envisioning him flustered in an entirely different way. A shiver chased down your spine at the thought.
"You know, these might be just the thing to break the tension..." The words slipped out in a hushed tone.
Seeming to sense she'd accurately read the chemistry between you and your oblivious companion, the salesgirl gave you a conspiratorial wink.
Despite your pounding heart and flushed cheeks, you found yourself at the register purchasing one of the daring lingerie sets before you could overthink it. The salesgirl gave you a sly smile as she tucked the tissue-wrapped parcel into your bag.
"Good luck," she whispered with a wink.
You rejoined Tobio in the main boutique area, your steps feeling uncharacteristically shaky. He eyed your bag with furrowed brows but didn't pry, instead falling into step beside you as you headed for the exit.
The ride back to your neighborhood was a tense, charged silence that made you hyperaware of Tobio's proximity. You snuck sidelong glances at his chiseled profile, wondering if he could possibly guess the secret you now carried in your purchases.
Finally you arrived at your building, ascending the stairs up to your apartments on the third floor. Tobio walked you to your door out of old habit.
"I'll let you get settled," he said gruffly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Long day."
You nodded, keenly aware of the slinky lingerie set tucked away and suddenly burning with curiosity over what Tobio might think if he saw it. Before losing your nerve, you blurted out, "Tobio? Do you maybe want to come in for a minute?"
A flicker of surprise crossed his features before he gave a slow nod. "Sure, if you want some help with your haul."
Once inside, you excused yourself to freshen up, leaving Tobio alone in your living room with your multitude of shopping bags. Quickly you stashed away the lacy negligee in your dresser, hoping he wouldn't stumble across it.
When you returned, you found Tobio rooting through one of the bags, brows knit as he pulled out unfamiliar tissue paper packaging.
Tobio's dark brows knit as he pulled apart the tissue paper, his calloused fingers brushing against sheer, silky fabric. As comprehension dawned, a deep flush crept up his neck.
"Y/N...what is this?" His gravelly voice was tight as he held up the scarcely-there lingerie set.
You froze in the doorway, feeling your own face heat up. Of course he would find that particular purchase. Suddenly your heart was pounding.
"Oh...um, that?" You willed your voice not to waver. "Just a little something I treated myself to at the boutique."
Tobio swallowed hard, unable to tear his eyes away from the flimsy ribbons and frills draped over his large palm. "But...why would you need..."
"Need sexy underwear?" You arched a brow. "Maybe I'm finally going to put myself out there. Try to catch myself a boyfriend."
His penetrating blue gaze snapped up to your face, an unreadable storm brewing in their depths. You held his stare steadily, trying to gauge his reaction.
"A boyfriend?" The slightest edge crept into Tobio's tone. "Who did you have in mind for modeling this stuff?"
You pretended to examine your nails nonchalantly. "Oh, no one in particular yet. Maybe I'll put out feelers on a dating app..."
A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw. With two long strides, Tobio closed the distance between you until his body heat enveloped you.
"You really want to prance around in lingerie for some random guy?" His low rumble made your knees feel weak. "Let someone else see you like this?"
Dragging in a shuddering breath, you tilted your face up until it was a scant inch from his. "Would you prefer I only modeled it for you, Tobio?"
His gaze darkened with a molten heat, one large hand settling possessively on your waist as he angled his head down until his mouth hovered a hairsbreadth from yours.
Tobio's heated gaze dropped to your parted lips for a loaded moment before he tilted his chiseled jaw, the roughness of his stubble grazing your sensitized skin as his mouth brushed a feather-light, tantalizing caress against the corner of your lips.
A shuddering breath escaped you at the electrifying almost-kiss that was somehow more maddeningly provocative than a full-on lip-lock. Tobio's lashes were low, his pupils swallowing the blue of his irises as he leaned back just enough to hold your yearning stare.
With agonizing deliberation, he pressed the lacy negligee into your hand, his calloused fingers boldly grazing the swell of your breast as he stated in a low rasp, "Put it on. For me."
You felt your core tighten with heated anticipation at the commanding growl underlying his words. There was no mistaking the want, the hunger simmering just beneath Tobio's restraint now.
His hand fell away as you clutched the lingerie to your chest like a lifeline. You struggled not to squirm under the smoldering promise flickering in the depths of his eyes. With leaden legs, you forced yourself to turn and head for your bedroom before your weakening knees could betray you.
Shoulders squared, you shot him one last look over your shoulder. "Don't go anywhere."
The words emerged lower, huskier than you intended. But from the way Tobio's strong throat reflexively constricted, you knew the message had landed.
In your bedroom, you tugged the sundress over your head and quickly shimmied into the sheer bra and matching panties, taking in the sight of yourself in the mirror. You were no stranger to lace, satin, and all the accoutrements of seduction, but the lingerie set was far more scandalous than anything else in your closet. The delicate ribbons and sheer panels accentuated your curves, making you feel impossibly more exposed - and more irresistible.
Giving a little shimmy, you adjusted the straps and let out a shuddering breath, nerves fluttering. It was hard to believe that the moment you'd been imagining and fantasizing about for years was finally here.
Pulling open the door, you were met with Tobio's piercing blue gaze roving over you with unmasked hunger as he stood hunched over with his hands braced against the doorframe, trapping you in his shadow.
He straightened, a predatory glint flashing across his features. Your pulse quickened as he backed you slowly toward the bed, the mattress dipping under your weight as you sat back.
Tobio loomed over you, his large frame blocking out the light, the air crackling with tension as his hooded gaze swept over you. He looked every inch the conquering king surveying his domain.
You fought to steady your erratic breaths, feeling suddenly dizzy. A small whimper escaped you as Tobio reached out, the rough pads of his fingers skimming the sheer, gossamer panels of your bra, tracing the swell of your breasts.
Your body trembled as he brushed his thumb across your nipple, sending a jolt of electric heat straight to your core. Tobio's intense, heated gaze never left yours as he repeated the motion, his touch firm and deliberate, watching you respond.
"This is the kind of stuff you wear for someone who’s about to fuck you," he said, his voice a low rumble that had you clenching your thighs together. "And you're telling me you wanted to model this shit for some random guy?"
Your breathing quickened, a fresh wave of arousal flooding you as he palmed your breasts through the thin fabric, his thumbs and forefingers deftly tweaking the hardened buds.
"What if I told you I didn't want you to model it for anyone but me?" Tobio's low, silken tone was almost a purr as his calloused fingertips drifted higher, curling around the slender straps holding up the scant top.
Slowly, torturously, he eased them down your shoulders, his eyes following the path of his movements, drinking in every inch of bare flesh. You watched, transfixed, as he pulled the fabric down further, exposing your breasts and the hardened, rosy peaks.
Tobio let the straps fall to your elbows, his large hands moving to cup your naked breasts, squeezing them with just enough force to make you gasp. A small smirk curled his lips as he thumbed your sensitive nipples.
"Answer me."
"I..." The words caught in your throat, and you had to swallow hard. "I wouldn't let anyone else see me like this. Only you."
Satisfaction flared in Tobio's gaze at the confession, his thumb and forefinger twisting the pebbled buds harder, sending a fresh wave of sparks dancing over your skin. He let his knuckles dance over your skin, skimming the smooth expanse of your throat before he roughly slammed you down onto the bed, his broad frame covering yours.
His lips captured yours, and the kiss was fierce, possessive, claiming, as he nipped and sucked at your bottom lip. His tongue plundered your mouth, demanding and unyielding.
Tobio's calloused hand slid along your skin, skimming the curve of your waist before palming your thigh, the touch scorching through the sheer panties. Your body felt on fire as he traced a finger along the elastic waistband, teasing and taunting, his teeth scraping against your bottom lip before he bit down, sucking hard enough to draw a moan from you.
Your hips bucked as his hand delved lower, his fingers pushing the panties aside. You moaned again as his thumb swirled around your swollen clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure.
Tobio chuckled lowly against your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he kissed and licked his way down to your breasts. You arched against him as his tongue swirled around one of your hardened nipples, and then his teeth were biting down, and you were moaning his name, begging for more.
The sound of his zipper sliding down was like a gunshot, and your core tightened in anticipation. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans, shoving them and his boxers off completely, his thick, erect cock springing free.
The sight of his length was almost intimidating, and for a moment you wondered how he would even fit. He smirked at your reaction, a gleam in his eye as he rubbed the tip against your wet slit.
"Not yet." His voice was low and husky, the promise of pleasure dripping from his tone. "I want to fuck those tits first."
Next thing you knew, his hands were on your hips, tugging you further down the bed until he was straddling your stomach. His hands bunched up the lacy material, his cock sliding against your sternum.
He grabbed the front of the negligée you wore, the lacy cups forcing your tits together as Tobio held the fabric as what could only be described a rein. Your lips parted in a gasp as his thick length slid between the soft globes, the tip of his cock appearing above the sheer cups.
Tobio's gaze was fixed on yours, his eyes dark with desire. You couldn't tear your eyes away, watching as his hips rocked, his cock thrusting between your tits. The sight was obscene, and you felt a fresh wave of arousal flood your core.
The sensation of his cock sliding between your tits was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. The friction was intoxicating, and you could feel the tension building in his thighs as his pace quickened, his length growing slick from the beads of precum that had gathered at the tip.
He leaned forward, his hands gripping the headboard as his hips continued to piston, his cock thrusting in and out of the makeshift opening of your bra. His eyes were half-lidded, his jaw clenched, his muscles rippling under his skin.
Your own hands found their way to your nipples, playing with the sensitive nubs, and Tobio growled at the sight. The sound went straight to your core, and you squeezed your thighs together, desperate for some relief.
You could tell he was close, his pace growing erratic, his breaths coming in sharp pants. His hips snapped, and then his body tensed, and you felt his cock throb between your tits. His cum spurted, landing in white ropes across your throat andchest, and he continued to rock his hips, fucking his release out.
His chest heaved as he stared down at you, and a slow smirk tugged at his lips. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, tasting himself.
You were a mess, his release staining the fabric of the lingerie, the front of it twisted and wrinkled. But Tobio didn't seem to care, his hands still tangled in the lace as he tugged it down, exposing your breasts again.
"I wanna see those tits bounce when I'm pounding into you," he said, his tone dark and possessive, as if he had no intention of letting you leave his sight.
Before you could react, he grabbed your thighs and yanked you to the edge of the bed, his hands digging into the soft flesh as he spread them wide. You were soaked, your pussy dripping and aching to be filled.
Tobio gripped his cock, using the tip to nudge your sodden panties aside. You gasped as he slowly pressed into you, and your walls stretched to accommodate his thickness. He paused for a moment, giving you time to adjust, before he began to thrust.
His pace was relentless, his hips snapping against yours, his balls slapping against your ass. You could feel the tension building, your muscles clenching around him as his cock plunged in and out.
Your moans were loud and wanton, and you were sure your neighbors could hear, but you didn't care. All that mattered was Tobio and his thick cock driving into you, the feel of him filling you, the slap of his skin against yours.
His grip tightened around your thighs, pressing them back until you were almost bent in half. His cock hammered into you, and the new angle made your toes curl, his length hitting all the right spots.
Your orgasm hit you like a truck, and you cried out, your pussy clamping down around him as you gushed and sprayed him with an obscene amount of liquid. He kept thrusting, prolonging your pleasure, his eyes locked on yours.
His pace faltered, and his body stiffened, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you, spurting and filling you with his seed. He grunted, his cock pumping rope after rope, his thrusts slowing as he milked his release.
Finally he stilled, his length buried inside you, and his gaze locked on yours. His lips curled into a smug smirk, and he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours.
"Don't think I'm done with you yet," he said, his voice husky. "I plan on fucking you over every surface in this apartment, and then some."
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ellecdc · 9 months ago
Note
I absolutely love love love your writing! I have a request if you’re up for it?
Can you write a possessive/ jealous wolfstar x reader. Reader is always wearing baggy clothes so when shes wearing a tight dress that hugs her curvy body for yule ball and the boys in school wont stop staring at her got remus and sirius very jealous?
thank you baby! and thank you for your request. it’s not a whole lot of jealousy, but this is my take on it; hope you like it!! 🫶
poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who looks so good in a ballgown CW: no smut but mention of dicks/horniness, catcalling
There were some things that not many people knew but Remus did.
One thing not many people knew was that Sirius – in all his cool bravado – was the most sensitive person Remus knew. Sirius would cry during any and every movie, he once cried when he saw a baby chipmunk because it was ‘way too small, what the fuck?’, and those closest to Sirius knew that one must watch their tone lest the long-haired boy believe you were mad at him.
Another thing that not many people knew but Remus did was how fucking hot you were. And that’s not to say people didn’t know you were beautiful – your beauty was undeniable. 
But Remus (and Sirius) knew a secret.
Under the Hogwarts uniform? Under the boxy dress shirt, plaid pleated skirt, and woolen jumpers and cardigans, was one banging body. 
What helped keep this fact to be widely unknown was that when not in your uniform, you could usually be found in Sirius’ quidditch jersey, or Remus’ jumpers, or your own loosely fitting clothes. Your style was simple and understated, usually consisting of loose-fitting shirts and jeans or corduroys. Comfy, cozy, nondescript. It also helped that Sirius’ style was nearly the complete opposite – loud, demanding, and bold - so people spent most of their time ogling him. 
It seemed, however, that this secret would be revealed to all of Hogwarts tonight. 
“Holy shit.” Peter muttered under his breath as the Marauder’s stood dressed in their best awaiting their dates for the ball. You and Lily traipsed down the stairs in your heels and dresses whilst Peter was bombarded with various whacks to his arms and an ‘oi!’ or two from James, Sirius, and Remus.
But Peter was right, you looked fucking stunning. You were wearing a beautiful satin gown, the fabric spilling sinfully over your body like water and cascading to your ankles. Your shape and figure were further accentuated by the way the lights refracted off the shiny material, leaving nothing to the imagination. He was surprised to see how thin the straps were; there had to be some magic holding the gown to your body, surely.
Remus felt conflicted; he both wanted to throw you over his shoulder and rush back up to the dorms to ravish you and parade you around shouting ‘look at what this poor, scarred werewolf managed to pull!’.
There was one issue.
Sirius.
“What is she wearing!?” He whispered shouted to Remus.
“Pads, don’t upset her.” He murmured into his boyfriend’s ear. “Don’t make her feel self-conscious.”
Sirius let out a sound between a pained moan and a growl but nodded all the same.
You offered the boys a soft smile, shoulders migrating towards your ears proving to Remus that you were indeed feeling a little vulnerable.
“Hey beautiful!” Remus greeted you, taking your hand that adorned the charmed corsage Remus and Sirius had given you that matched the one’s pinned to their lapels and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 
“Hi boys.” You smiled, looking between the two of them. “You look very nice.”
Sirius scoffed, and Remus prayed to every deity possible that Sirius kept his wits about him. “Not half as good as you, babe! Come on, give us a spin.”
Remus let out a sigh of relief whilst your shoulders migrated impossibly higher, though you obeyed Sirius’ demand, nonetheless.
Remus dick twitched embarrassingly in his pants, and based on the pained groan emanating from Sirius, he was sure his did too. Thinking about Sirius’ dick made his own dick twitch again; this was going to be a long night. 
“It’s not too much?” You asked sheepishly as you turned back to face them, embarrassment painting your features as you looked timidly between your two boyfriends. 
“No!” Sirius shouted, but his voice came out painfully high. “No.” He corrected, clearing his throat. 
“You look stunning, my love.” Remus said more eloquently. 
You smiled beautifully albeit shyly at the two boys before your moment was interrupted.
“Circe’s tits, L/N! Where’ve you been hiding that body!?” Barty Crouch Jr called as he let out a wolf whistle, either completely forgetting or ignoring the fact that he was walking arm-in-arm with his boyfriend who only offered his brother and his brother’s dates a simple eyeroll.
“Keep walking you fuckin’ wanker.” Sirius barked.
Remus’ heart clenched when he noticed you start to ring your hands together nervously.
“I don’t know... Lily told me to go with this one, but I have another dress upstairs – maybe I should-”
“Absolutely not.” Sirius cut you off, levelling you with a look that spoke no nonsense. 
“It would be a sin to deny the world of such a sight, love.” Remus encouraged pulling you towards him and massaging at your tense jaw with his thumbs. He hoped he was giving you his softest smile possible, and the way your own expression softened in response told him he had.
“Wear what you want, dollface; I can fight.” Sirius added, causing the two of you to break eye contact, looking over to see that he was already tying his hair up pre-emptively. Remus scoffed out a laugh and you whimpered a pained ‘Sirius...’. 
“Let’s go, sugar.” He said when he was done, winking at you teasingly. “Let’s show these tossers what they’re missing.”
Remus thought you looked nervous as you allowed Sirius to hook your arms together, though he didn’t know why. You didn’t have to referee Sirius’ tussles; Remus did.
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pedrospatch · 2 years ago
Text
Just Friends
Javier Peña x DEA Agent 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.
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? 
7K notes · View notes
cuntoss-inz · 2 years ago
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emilys-bangs · 2 months ago
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So I loved to see you are taking requests for tooth rotting fluff and I’ve been thinking, what an established relationship in which Emily gets super jealous when someone’s flirting w r and instead of being mad or sad, she just responds by getting extra touchy and really wants to make you believe that she loves you better and louder and softer than anyone else could? (You obv already know) this is super random so sorry if it’s not your vibe lol
This is absolutely perfect, tysm for requesting <3
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nuisance | e.p
Tags: established relationship, fluff, jealous / possessive emily, a gross man, no use of yn, use of petnames
Word count: 0.9k
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A soft laugh tumbles from your lips as Emily whispers in your ear, idly profiling the dining guests from your place at the bar. She’s standing next to you while you sit on the plush stool, two drinks in front of you as you wait to be seated.
She’s chosen the perfect place. The restaurant is lit up with the warm glow of candlelights, soft music playing over the clinks of cutlery and the hushed conversations of couples. Emily is wrapped up in a burgundy dress, the satin kissing her pale skin in a way you’re almost jealous of. Her voice is soft, her fingertips softer still as they skim your arm and leave idle goosebumps in their wake. 
You feel almost sickeningly in love; your heart is just on the cusp of racing, your cheeks heated with a warm glow at the tenderness of her attention. It’s a rare opportunity, to see her like this—dressed up and relaxed and oh so gentle, her eyes shimmering with the love you know is reflected clearly in your own face.
“And that guy,” she murmurs, subtly tilting her head to the suited man sitting in the corner, “oh, he’s a piece of work,”—you giggle and her eyes soften, her lips tilting upward in a smile—“his suit looks like Armani and that’s definitely a Rolex, so you know he’s a lawyer. Pity, their egos are sky—”
“Excuse me?” Someone interrupts. You and Emily both turn in the direction of the voice, expecting to see the hostess.
It’s not her. A man stands in front of you, the determined look on his face informing you of his intentions before he even speaks.
Emily’s arm curls around your waist. “Can we help you?” Her tone is pointed and sharp, edged with irritation you know only you can hear—apparently she sniffed him out, too.
The man ignores her. His eyes slide to you; the unabashed hunger in them makes you stifle a disgusted shiver. “Can I buy you a drink?” He leans against the bar, dragging his gaze over your body.
“I already have one.” You say flatly, “In case you didn’t see.”
“He’s too busy looking at you to notice it,” Emily’s voice turns warm as she hooks her finger under your chin and gently brings your eyes back to hers. Her fingers tighten on your waist, the darkness of her eyes as intense as a black hole as her thumb ghosts over your bottom lip. “I don’t blame him, chérie,” she breathes, her words now for you only, “have you seen yourself tonight? You’re breathtaking.” Her fingers gently rake through your hair, careful not to mess it up.
A shiver dances down your spine. Cheeks hot, you tilt your chin upward. 
Getting the hint, Emily leans in for a kiss, not before you see the smug smile on her lips. Surprisingly she’s soft, caressing your lips gently, reverently, instead of kissing you with possessive intent. Somehow it makes you love her impossibly more, and you sink further into her kiss before an annoyed ahem breaks you out of your daze.
You turn to the man with a scrunch between your brows. “You’re still here?” You ask, fighting to keep a straight face when Emily snorts. She hides the sound in your forehead, her lips gently pressing against your temple. The hand on your bare arm distracts you, and as she draws circles on your skin you barely notice the napkin that the man slides across the bar, his number written messily on it.
“If you ever change your mind from that,” he sneers at Emily, her responding scoff dripping with derision, “call me.” 
He has the audacity to smile.
Anger flares in your stomach. “Watch your fucking—”
“That’s sweet.” Emily interrupts before you throw a punch. “I don’t think you want it though, do you, amor?” She trails her knuckles down your cheek, her eyes still hot with jealousy. The low murmur of her voice almost soothes the fire in your veins.
“No.” You say, twirling your chair to properly face her. Her nimble fingers cup your jaw and you lean into her hand, raising your voice so the man can hear you. “You’ve got a lighter on you, haven’t you?”
Emily grins. The dimples in her cheeks make you smile back, even as the man sputters behind you.
“Emily Prentiss?” The hostess comes by then, giving you an apologetic smile. “Your table is ready.”
“Just in time.” Emily doesn’t spare the man another glance as she holds out her hand for you. You take it, smiling as she carefully helps you down from the stool. Her fingers thread through yours and you turn to grab your phone.
Ever in tune with you, Emily squeezes your fingers. “I’ll get it, my love.” She murmurs, grabbing your phone and hers, as well as her purse. With the barest tips of her fingers, she grabs the napkin and tosses it into your half-full wine glass as the man gawks.
You laugh softly as Emily turns and gently pulls you to your table, both of you steadfastly ignoring the hot set of eyes behind you. She drops your hand when you reach the table, only to pull out the chair for you, a sparkle in her dark eyes.
You grin at her brightly. 
Emily feigns confusion. “What?” She asks, her brow arching.
“I love you.” 
A slow smile spreads across her lips. Emily grabs your hand, gently kisses your knuckles and leaves behind traces of her lipstick. 
“I love you, too.”
taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism
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phoenixyfriend · 2 months ago
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For the first, assume they never married in the first place, because Padmé took an unknowing page from Satine’s book, and made Anakin wait until they were both in a more stable mental state/after the war. The part he's bummed about is that the relationship is this defined as impermanent and, as he intends to remain a Jedi, something that will have to end once Padmé starts looking to settle down unless the actual spouse is open to poly (and even then he knows he'd be jealous).
For the second, assume Anakin left on decent terms and still calls his Jedi friends up to get dinner when the Senate is convening, and sends people photos of the twins. The part he's bummed about is not getting to have a laser sword, the loss of Official Privileges, living among a community that understands him/that he grew up with, and possibly not being allowed to engage in the war to his full potential to save lives as he'd like.
This is not an invitation to tell me how immature or selfish you think Anakin was for trying to have both in canon. We know that part. We know he'd bitch and moan and accuse people of conspiring again him. I just want to know your opinions on which he'd have preferred if forced to choose in a calm environment instead of as part of a Sith plot to drive him insane.
This is also not an invitation to tell me about how you think the Jedi are evil or stifling or what have you. Do not project Christian trauma onto the space Buddhists.
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jude-duarte-wannabe · 3 months ago
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Charles jealousy smut please!
my own little devil
order up!
hi lovely thanks for the request, i have been dying to write this and i am a charles girl so i may have gone a little feral while writing this, so apologies in advance <3 i did end up picking prompts from my bakery list to go with this just fyi and those prompts will be bolded.
pairing; charles leclerc x female fwb reader
blurb; your devious little plan to make charles jealous and regret leaving you high and dry the previous night goes wrong.
warnings; biting kink, rough sex, a speck of breeding, spit, dirty thoughts, wall sex, google translated french, semi public sex, creampie, hair pulling, dirty talking, oral fem!receiving, possessive behavior, choking, mentions of pregnancy, dom!charles. [let me know if i missed anything!]
chai; biting or hickeys [i picked biting] lemonade; possessive vodka shot; rough sex tea; semi public doppio; wall sex chocolate mousse; "i'm sorry" croissant; "don't you dare" pancake; "no, we can't, not here" sugar pie; "stop wriggling" boston cream pie; "fuck, it's dripping down your legs"
currently playing; jealous by nick jonas "cause you're too fuckin' beautiful and everybody wants a taste, that's why i still get jealous"
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it was all his fault, at least thats what you told yourself when you came up with this devious little plan in the first place, that it was charles's fault for up and leaving before you'd been able to cum around his cock last night.
he'd showed up at your place around two in the morning tipsy and in a grump from having lost the race earlier in the day begging you to make him feel better and so naturally since he was the best fuck you'd ever had, you let him have his way with you but his way last night was utter fucking torment.
he enjoyed, no he loved seeing you beg and he was hoping you'd be begging tonight down on your sweet little knees but you had decided that, that was not going to be the case, you wanted to be the one to have him on his fucking knees for a change.
you knew deep down that this dress would do the trick, the red satin hugged your figure, attaching itself to each and every curve of your body and the bra you wore pushed your boobs so far up that they could fall out of your dress with one wrong move, you looked like a sin; that was all charles was capable of thinking the moment he saw you walk into the club, his own personal little devil.
when you brushed past him on your way to the bar, your fingers grazed across his crotch and the slight gasp he let out made you smirk "you are playing a dangerous game douce fille" charles whispered to himself as he watched you go, hips swinging with every step, charles couldn't help but lick his lips at the sight, desperate for a taste.
charles was fine with letting you wander about the club showing off for him but what he didn't like was you showing off for all the other men there as well with your ass practically hanging out the bottom of your dress, you were his and he wasn't gonna let another guy lay a hand on you, so while he let you have your space, he found his eyes traveling over to you every now and then just to make sure you weren't getting into any mischief.
but little did either of you know, mischief was heading your way. when you felt a hand brush across your back so close to your ass as you leaned across the bar to take your drink from the bartender, you smirked thinking it was charles coming to claim his prize for the night but oh how you couldn't have been more wrong.
as you looked behind you, you made eye contact with a man that just radiated fuckboy energy "please don't touch what isn't yours" you mused quietly and he held his hand's up innocently like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar "relax just wanted to get to know ya, i'm brad" you couldn't help but roll your eyes, brad what a classic fuckboy name.
after a thought you decided he was harmless since you had no intention of flirting or going home with him tonight, so you decided to indulge him a little and so you sat across from one another at the bar, slowly sipping at your individual drinks.
charles had only taken his eyes off you for less than two minutes and when his eyes sought you out, he saw red.... seeing you sitting across from a man at the bar, he wasn't happy and despite you deciding to be a little tease with your choice of dress tonight he trusted you like he had never trusted any other girl before and so he let it go until he watched the guy slip his hand onto your thigh, caressing the skin like he owned you but he didn't, charles did and he was going to make sure that this prick fucking knew that.
"let me get you another drink" brad asked, hand still running along your thigh, little did he know that if he didn't remove it soon he would no longer have a hand and if the intimidating presence behind you didn't give away the fact that brad was fucked, the hand that soon wrapped around your throat should have been a dead giveaway, charles tilted your back to look into your eyes "don't you dare" he practically growled.
"you say yes and i will not be gentle with you" brad's hand slipped from your thigh "i didn't know you were taken" brad stated, trying to defend himself "i'm not" you mumbled, still gazing into charles's eyes and as your words hit his ears, he tightened his grip around your throat.
"lets go" he growled, pulling you off the bar stool and into the bathroom of the club, you'd barely made it in the door before charles pressed your back into the cold tile wall, his hand once again wrapping around your throat and holding tight as you struggled against his hold "stop wriggling" he demanded, his breath hot against your ear as he pressed a little tighter causing black spots to form in front of your eyes, as he watched a tear slip from your eye he eased back a little loosening his hold but not completely letting go just yet "your mine so all those guys can fuck off and leave you alone"
"i'm not yours" you reminded him and he gave you a look that told you that you'd picked your words poorly "yeah, well i'm going to fucking make you mine douce fille" and with that he dropped to his knees, hiking your dress up and around your hips, he dragged the fabric of your panties to the side drooling at the sight of your wet little pussy, if you asked charles in a public setting what his favorite thing about you was he would say your eyes but if you asked in private, he wouldn't even give you a verbal answer and instead just drop to his knees in front of you.
"no, we can't, not here" your fingers tangled in his soft locks, pulling at it to try and distract him from his current mission of wanting to eat your pussy until your legs gave out around his head and your whole body was trembling from his touch but your words met deaf ears as he spit into his hand before rubbing his fingers along your folds, grazing your clit with every pass he made.
"your fucking crazy" you whispered as a shiver ran down your spine due to charles's touch on your clit but also at the idea of being caught in such a compromising position in public, oh how you could see the headlines now.
"FERRARI'S GOLDEN BOY CAUGHT IN ROMANTIC TRYST!"
it was only a few seconds before charles's mouth attached to your pussy, licking through your folds to suck up every last drop of the juices you were currently leaking all over his pretty little face like an alcoholic who'd gone far too long without a drink.
his fingers gripped tightly at your thighs making sure to leave little bruises that he could kiss better later. when he slipped his tongue inside, you shuddered above him, hands pulling at his hair but he never ceased, this man was starving and he was going to feast.
you couldn't help but gently rock your hips against his tongue which caused his nose to brush against your clit causing the most gorgeous friction that had you tilting your head back as a low moan slipped past your lips, fingers tugging at his hair as he smiled against your folds continuing to eat your pussy like a man starved.
you were reaching your peak and fast, you always did when charles ate you out like this, you hips began to move faster against his tongue chasing the pleasure he gave you but right as you were on the edge of pure bliss he pulled away and the sight you saw as he gazed up at you was down right erotic, his cheeks, lips, nose and even chin wet with a mix of your juices and his saliva, the perfect mix in his mind.
his pupils were wide and his mouth hung open as he panted, his warm breath hitting your thigh as he gently nibbled at the skin sending even more shock waves zapping up your spine, he scrambled up your body, hands pulling at his belt desperate to get his hard aching cock inside of your tight little cunt.
"why'd you stop" to say you were pissed was an understatement, he was not about to leave you high and dry again "i'm sorry" he rushed out, he knew that if he was to keep lapping at your dripping wet pussy like the feral animal he was any longer that he would cum in his pants right then and there.
"i was going to cum in my pants" he chuckled, connecting his lips to yours for the first time that night, you moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue, his kiss was sloppy and desperate causing spit to coat both of your faces.
when you pulled away you couldn't help but smile at the sight, charles cheeks were flushed and warm from the heat radiating between your bodies, his eyes wide and your lipstick was smeared across his lips and chin "so fucking pretty" you murmured, thumb running over his bottom lip as he pulled his aching cock from the confines of his jeans.
you squeaked as he picked you up, practically manhandling you as he wrapped your legs around his waist and plunged in without warning causing your head to slam against the wall behind you "fuck" you gasped "be gentle" but he was far from gentle in this moment as he thrusted in and out of you at an unnatural speed that had your head spinning.
if anyone were to walk into the bathroom in that moment and catch you, you'd have looked like a pair of rabbits in heat from the way you were going at it.
you couldn't help but bite as his shoulder, teeth digging into his skin and drool soaking his shirt in an attempt to keep quiet but the sound of his hips slamming against yours would give you away before any moans did, the sound was wet and sticky as your hips slammed together.
a sharp pain hit you as charles fingers threaded through your hair and tugged forcefully so that he could kiss and bite at the delicate skin of your neck, marking you has his own personal fucktoy, no other man would ever fucking touch you again, not on his watch.
"you wanna come inside me joli garçon, you want me to make you a daddy" charles groaned against your shoulder at the words you whispered in his ear, a million fantasies coming to mind in that moment but pushed them all down in order to focus on you and the pleasure he was making you feel.
when he felt your pussy clench around him, his hips came to a halt, body shaking with pleasure as he released ropes and ropes of his sweet hot cum deep into your tight pussy that still clenched around his cock, milking him dry.
charles's lipstick stained swollen lips pressed against yours as you swallowed eachothers moans, his hand snuck down and started to rub at your clit, pace fast and rough, he was desperate to make you cum around him and when you finally did, juices gushing around his cock, he couldn't help but cum again at the feeling.
when it was all over he pulled his head from the crook of your neck as you both panted "holy fuck" he breathed out "that was the best fuck we've ever had" he darkly chuckled.
"i never knew you were a biter" you giggled which caused your pussy to clench around his cock again, a small shot of cum shooting out.
he slowly and gently let you down and as he kneeled down to pull your dress over your butt, he couldn't help but lean forward and lick a stripe up your thigh "fuck, it's dripping down your legs" his tone of voice told he was proud of the work he'd done.
he had fucking bred you and god did he want to do it again and again until it stuck and you were round and pregnant with his baby.
"your fucking mine now you petit diable"
you couldn't help but laugh at his words "little devil huh"
oh yeah, you were his own personal little devil and a fucking hot one at that.
"yeah, my little devil" he chuckled, lips pressing against yours sloppily once more, you both couldn't help but smile against eachothers lips,
"lets get the fuck out of here" he suggested, tangling your fingers with his own "why, you going to breed me again" you joked not knowing how fucking right you actually were.
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tinydefector · 5 months ago
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I was just interested if you were a suckered for the clothing and fabric and perfume trope as I am. In the sense where fabrics and a abundance of organic flora was considered more common for higher class cybertronains but that even then it was pretty scarce. Imagine a bot or con after getting over their fears or mild disgust of the squishness of humans so to speak the next few things they notice is how many types of hair there are. How many styles and how many different ways to dye said hair. It drives them nuts the feel such softer fibers all together to make a more denser form. Curled,staight,wavy it all catches their optics. Painted nails almost similar to paint for their frames. Tattoos so intriguing. A human willingly damaging their surface that is more fragile than their metallic frames. It's a living scar. And they can't help but slowly come to love it to when they see how much their human complain does. But fabric? God they almost get drunk off of it. When they get a hug they shiver at the smooth article that brushes on their frame. The variety. So many styles and colors. So many meaning behind patterns and techniques. They can't help but almost grow jealous hearing how far back a simple stich can come from in human history. Humanity dressing itself in plush silks and flimsy polyester but it's all gold compared to what the cybertronains have come to crave. Imagine them having made themselves smaller so they could be inside your living space and they can't help but notice all the fabrics. All the plush surfaces. Their in heaven fully convinced they're going to meet the great primes. And if you had a scented burning candle? Sweet or citrus they can't help but want to inhale deeply to capture the scent. Perfumes? God their drunk whenever a human walks into a enclosed space because all mechs and femmes are fighting themselves to not snatch you up and keep you. If you use scented body wash or scented lotion then can practically taste it on your skin if you are near or hug them. They crave it when it's late at night and they've got you sobbing and thighs shaking as they kiss and lap at your scented thighs. And if theirs multiple humans in a space? That almost has a bot slurring their words as iff they just had the best energon. Just some thoughts haha I'm very sorry it's so long. I'm just a suckered for all these headcanons and just how while they may be disgusted and have hatred for humanity some fo them can't help but swoon for so many qualitys of their human companions that are nothing like their skin. So soft and complaint and so very warm at heart.
So I do have some fics on this stuff one is
Ratchet x reader. Involving perfumes effecting cybertronians like a sex potion or sex pollen.
Then I have
Starscream x reader. Involving the infamous dress and him testing out different outfits on his partner.
This small collection of bots reacting to nipple piercings (was like my first fic I ever wrote here)
_________________
I am quite a sucker for the clothing and fabric and perfume trope. I really enjoy writing cybertronians who adore seeing their partner drapped in shimmering fabrics. Becuase to the human its could just be a satin sheet, but to the cybertronian it is luxury, it showcases so much about you and every chance they get they love getting to just feel or touch the fabrics.
Imagine: your cybertronian is sat on theirs berth which is a mix of almost foam matting(yoga mat/ expanding foam) They don't lay on just metal but it's not particularly comfortable for their human. So one day, they introduced them to memory foam, and its like the bots world has opened up. It becomes a soft, comfortable recharge. But as you start bringing sheets, blankets, and your pillows, it makes the bots feel as if they are falling in love. They love it when you drape the soft fabric over them and make yourself almost a next on their chassis with the soft bedding. To they it feels like a luxury that you are pampering them even if it's just to make yourself more comfortable. It's the fact you leave them in their suite on their berth take makes their spark clench in delight knowing you'll be coming back.
I also tend to write cybertronains have alot more nasal sensors and detectors to the point they can break down the partials to annalise them. The smell of fresh lining is something that effects them almost like catnip with a cat. They will roll around in the fabric optics wide. Engines roaring in delight. As their joints squeak and clank against the walls.
I also love writing that Fabric was something that only the Highest of society had on cybertron, but mainly due to have small the fibers are it is extremely hard for cybertronains to replicate the material, so it fetched for high prices when Imported from organic planets. If you were of the lower classes, you would be lucky if you had a tarp or some sort of soft plastic as it was also still very sort after. So you can imagine how the cybertronains reacted once on earth, even while undercover. Fabric is such a huge part of human culture that cybertronians, when they find even just a pretty scrap of Fabric, keep it as a token. As if to say "frag you" to the universe.
But I can also see a human finding the stash of Fabric cut off's and offering to sew them all together in an almost patchwork like blanket for their bot and you can bet your ass you will have that cybertronian on thier knees worshipping you for it.
______
"Hey, we have hail forecasted," their voice calls out to the vehicle parked in the driveway. The cybertronian is rather quiet as they register what was said to them. "It isn't acid rain, so it won't be anything too bad." they try to argue only to have a large old blanket thrown over them. "Hey, what are you doing?" It sends shock throught their system having something so soft drapped over their frame.
"I'm covering you up so you don't get hail damage, I sadly can't get you into the garage at the moment so the next best thing I can do is cover you up with some blankets and a tarp so you don't get damaged by ice falling out of the sky" they explain as they throw another over the vehicle. Making sure to fully cover the bot before throwing a waterproof tarp over them, too. "Sorry, I don't have anything better than this, but it will keep you dry and our of harm's way." Those words hit their spark in a way they never would have thought it would. They are left almost speechless, cosy, and somewhat warm as the hailstorm rolls in.
________________
When it comes to hair colour, skin colour, and tattoos. It fascinates them so much to see such diversity and colour on a species they originally believed to be quite dull. It gets to the point when making their holoform avatars they love exploring and expressing themselves as if making a sims character. Even going as far as some get custom paint jobs of the tattoos, they get on their avatars because, for them, it's the closest thing they can have to tattoos. But think about you getting a tattoo in a shop right across from where your cybertronian partner is getting their paint job because it was a cute couples day out.
And don't get me started on how much cybertronians love human's hair. The fibers are so different to them and they love the feeling of it, they just have to be very careful when running a digit theought thier lovers hair as to not get it jammed in the joints causing you pain.
Another thing that cybertronians are fascinated by is humans' willingness to injure themselves in the name of beauty. From tattoos, piercings, injections, and surgery. In honesty, it's not that different from frame ulteration, but they don't know how a human can do it. The bots can turn their pain sensors off while humans are just soldier on through it.
I love the idea that the bots also horde car freshners that their humans get them. It becomes a full-on pokemon card situation of them trading double ups, begging their partner to get them others so they can rub it in their friends' faces. But air freshners weren't a thing until Earth, and the bots love how it makes their frame smell different from the oil, grease, and car smell.
But perfumes gods I love the idea that perfumes have a certain chemical reaction to Cybertronian systems to the point to turns them into a raging horny bot who can't get enough of how your skin taste and how desperately they try to literally lick the perfume off your skin as if it were the riches and most expensive high grade energex on the market. It also leads to a lot of personal working with the bots not being allowed to wear perfume/cologne. Deodorants don't affect them the same way, but they also enjoy how they smell quite a bit.
But yes I love the idea of perfumes pretty much working like a pheromone spray and don't get me started on actual pheromones spray, your not leaving that bots berth for atleast 3 days, they will bring you food, water and anything you want but it literally overrides their system protocol and makes them desperate to breed you.
In conclusion, DO NOT wear perfume or Pheromone spray near the bots unless you don't intend to be leaving the berth for at least 3 days if not more becyase they can and will keep you their.
________________
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