#I could not make myself focus on that shit for ANYTHING

[firstprincehornyramblings]

Hello everyone! I'm getting a start early, by queueing this post for tomorrow morning, look at me go. Thank you who much to @tailsbeth-writes for the tag <3 I have ... 3 wips again, because I have no self control, so we're doing all of this under the cut, because it's gonna be long, and maybe a lil nsfw <3 LET'S GOOOOOOOO.

------ George Villier's inner dialogue during an Orgy (that's the working title on this, please bare with)

It wasn’t that George had always been this way, but an ascension into power had nurtured his hedonism prone nature. If he was to be blessed with the gift of beauty, he would take all the power and pleasure that came with it. He’d earned it after all, his bed of lovers, his social standing, influence, and wealth. Each a result of unsavory acts; but that made them so much more deserved, did it not? He could have anything he wanted, like a god among men, and so he should be worshipped the same. Though he was more than content with devotion in the form of flesh; he’d certainly used his own body as currency often enough. Even now, anything that wasn’t handed to him willingly, with a brush of lips, or a clandestine slip to knees, could become his. That in itself was testament to all he’d done, that his willing submission was as effective a bargaining tool as his power.

WATERSPORTS FIRSTPRINCE (aka, Alex is funny and Henry has a weak bladder)

“You… think it’s- what?” Henry choked out, “You think it’s hot that I pissed myself in the middle of our kitchen? Is that your idea of a joke?” “I-” the brunette could feel his own cheeks heating up now, “It’s not a joke, I do, I’m sorry, but I do,” he managed after a moment. “Oh,” the blond’s eyes shot straight down to the shorts Alex had on, falling on the visible hardness there, “Oh,” he repeated, but with much more understanding this time. There were still tears sparkling in the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall, but he was visibly less mortified, “Alex, that is so disgusting...” “I know, shit baby, I’m s-” “I can get into it.” “What?” “I said, I can get into it,” Henry repeated, “Well, honestly, I could probably get into anything that makes your cock hard, because- well frankly I reap the benefits of that. Would you like to fuck my throat?”

AND A NEW WIP, Hairstylist Henry and his least (read as favorite) Client Alex

“Alright, tilt your head back,” both of Henry’s hands rested on Alex’s temples, carefully moving the other man’s head into the perfect place, “Do you want me to stop under the jawline?” “Whatever you think looks best, sweetheart.” Normally, Henry would hate that, some businessman using a pet name on him. But usually it felt demeaning, when Alex did it, it felt genuine, perhaps that was why he didn't mind it. He would rather accept that than admit it might have something to do with how hot his cheeks felt or how his stomach flip flopped. Instead, he chose to focus on something else, like the familiar but luxurious scent becoming more evident the closer he was to Alex. “Santal 33?” the blond asked, running the trimmers over the other man’s jawline, making careful precise lines that would accentuate the sharp angles there. “Yeah,” impressively, Alex had answered that without much movement of his face; Henry was astonished. “Makes sense.” “What is that supposed to mean?” this time, the brunette moved, but he did have the mind to wait until Henry was running the trimers along his throat with less chance of Alex’s jolt messing up something. “It means you look like someone who has good taste, don’t move.” “You’re worse than a dentist,” Alex grumbled. “Stop moving, christ you’re an absolute menace, I’m going to slice your throat open.” “With an electric trimmer?” “I’m certain if I make enough effort, I just may be able to pull it off,” Henry snapped.

OKAY, that was a long one, if you stuck around thank u I love u. TAG LINE UP!!!!

@taste-thewaste @eusuntgratie @henrysfox @thighzp

@softboynick @catdadacd @sheepywritesfics @henryspearl

@basil-bird @caressthosecheekbones @henfox @onthewaytosomewhere + literally anyone else I'm sleepy and forgot, or anyone who sees this and wants to tag me, I love reading yall's stuff. <3

[imwritesometimes]

when other people in their 30s say they feel lost in their life/don't know what their purpose is/feel nervous abt life: ur gonna be fine babe I ❤️ you and you are fine this world is a hell hole and we are all doing our best you are fine you are valid ❤️

when I try to apply the same things to myself:

[hunsa-jars]

Dread be dreading

[wtfspocks]

reblog, like, or read this post if I should quit my job

[toastsnaffler]

ah shit only just realised its september now.... lets hope the rest of this month isn't like this.....

[arcaneyouth]

it is So Weird how working on my comic makes me feel like i have more free time. and gives me more free time. logically, working on 3 comic pages a week would mean i have Less Time. but no. despite everything, i'm getting more done and able to use my time better now that i'm working on comic pages again. what the hell is up with that.

[whoblewboobear]

Knowing that I have to go home after an 8-hour shift at the job I hate to force myself to deep clean the depression nest my room has become while neck deep in the same depressive episode for the past 3 months on top of chronic pain makes me wanna scream like can I just smoke weed and sleep on the couch instead pls?

[robotpussy]

woke up from my sleep angry because I take too long to do anything like I'm so fucking annoyed rn I genuinely cannot comprehend how ppl have full time jobs and go to school and also fully indulge in their hobbies and get them done in timely manners because if I'm doing anything I have to either finish it in a day or it will take a year to complete it

[milo-is-rambling]

Chronic pain really got me going to bed before it’s even dark out (also my little pink unicorn lights Millie got me look so cool in the second pic)

[imwritesometimes]

I have this very very stupid marchly fic idea that I've thought about on and off for over a year and I might just say fuck it and write it since the appropriate season will be upon us soon but also... it's very silly & stupid and I'm not sure how to flesh it out even into a short one shot cause all I've really got is the idea for this scene that amuses me to no end but would probably not be an amusing funny one-off to many other ppl

[bi-rezi]

since I failed to take all the clothes I'm getting rid of to goodwill today and I'm p sure I've missed my window I'm gonna load em up in my car tonight and drop em off tomorrow morning

[repurposedmeatlocker]

With everything going on recently with this god-forsaken website, unless something significant happens with the higher powers in charge, I'm going to be limiting my usage a bit.

Not deleting, since I have close to no other "social media" at the moment, and way too many friends here as it is. If anything, I'll probably check the blog here and there for dms/asks, and relegate a majority of my interactions and activity to my side blogs (if you know you know).

Here is my Carrd (kind of old and outdated, but I am planning on getting it fixed up nice).

[mariasont]

Be So Stupid - S.R

a/n: this has been sitting in my WIPs for so long and i finally finished it! now going to reward myself with online shopping xoxo

kind of inspired by when jj and reid split up in season 2 i think? when morgan was kinda being rude to her but i picture like season 12-13 spence

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you make a mistake while on a case nearly getting spencer killed, morgan has some choice words and spencer is ready to beat his ass over it

warnings: morgan being a little shit simply for the plot, mention of spencer almost dying, spencer being a protective king pussy boss

wc: 1.4k

How could you be so stupid?

Those were the words that had been on replay, a constant loop, for the past two days. It's because, somewhere inside, you knew Morgan was justified in what he said. How could you have been so stupid to split up with Spencer at the unsubs house?

He was taken by the unsub, a trigger pull away from death. But the team got there, and he was okay. He was alive and breathing and healthy, and you tried to focus on these facts when your chest tightened with that familiar agonizing twinge.

It was a relief not to face anyone afterward. As soon as you got home from the case, you holed yourself up in your apartment, obsessively dissecting the events until the recollections twisted your insides with a nauseating sense of dread. You had run through every potential scenario in your head, agonizing over the grim outcomes if you hadn't arrived when you did.

You would've never forgiven yourself.

So here you were, hiding out in Penelope's lair, doing your paperwork. You convinced yourself it wasn't hiding; rationalizing it as a need for more peace and quiet than the bullpen could offer. You knew it was bullshit, and so did Garcia.

"Just so you know, I'm fully prepared to kick his ass on your behalf," she announced, swiveling to face her monitors, the ribbons in her hair trailing her movement like colorful comets. "It was totally uncalled for. Everyone agrees."

"Everyone?"

"Well, okay, not Spencer, but that's only because he doesn't know," Garcia continued, her pen tapping a silent code against her cheek, followed by the clack of keys. "If he did, he'd definitely kick his ass."

"I don't know about that," you said, repeatedly stretching and releasing the hair tie around your wrist, each snap a self-inflicted reprimand.

"He called you stupid." She was shaking her head so vigorously her blonde locks tumbled into her eyes as she paused her typing to look at you. "And you, my gorgeous friend, are anything but."

"Generally speaking, sure, but this time, Pen, I really screwed up."

"Who called you stupid?"

Spencer's voice was incredibly hard to ignore, distinct—you would recognize it anywhere.

Garcia and you stopped dead, your eyes growing impossibly large as she gave you a look as if to say, Morgan is screwed.

"No one."

"Morgan."

You and Garcia blurt your words out at the same time, your voices clashing in the air. You whipped your head to Garcia, the betrayal written on your face as she only shrugged her shoulders.

"Why would he say that to you?"

Spencer's steps towards you were measured, but each one amplified your unease, you hands wringing together as you looked away. He could read you like a book, and most times that was a good thing, but today it was definitely not.

"It's really not a big deal, Spencer," you insisted, pursing you lips as you dragged your gaze up and over him. "But how about you? How are you holding up?"

You were on your feet in an instant, a little too quickly, wobbling on your heel just a tab before Spencer grabbed your elbow. You ignore his touch, or at least you try, and press the back of your hand to his forehead.

He wasn't warm, but you sure were.

"You know, I don't think you should be back at work so soon."

You weren't lying when you said that. It seemed to soon. Was he looking a little pale? You couldn't tell. He should be home.

His hand was suddenly around your wrist, soft but firm, easing you away from his forehead, his eyes narrowing at you.

"Hey, I'm alright." He was trying to be assuring, offering a faint smile that only served to make your stomach do backflips. "Really, I am."

His fingers frapped around your wrist, not quite letting go, as he directed his attention to Garcia. "Why did he say that to her?"

"I'm right here," you grumbled under your breath, but Spencer was paying you no mind.

"I'm aware," Spencer answered without looking at you as his hands found their way to your shoulders, thumbs tracing absent patterns on your skin. "But you are not providing any answers."

Garcia cut in, folding her arms over her chest as her eyes pinned you with an unspoken accusation. "He said it because you two split up on the case."

Her words seemed to thicken the air itself, snatching away the previous ease as Spencer's expression darkened. It was a new and unsettling sight--the tightness in his jaw, the faint crease in his brows, and the steely sharpness in his eyes.

Without uttering a single syllable, he spun on his heel and strode out the door. You didn't hesitate to chase after him, an inkling of his destination propelling you forward. The look on his face had planted a seed of fear about what he was going to do.

Sure enough, there he was, just as you anticipated, in the middle of the bull pit. His gaze locked on Morgan with a laser-like precision, like a hawk eyeing its prey.

"How could you say that to her?" His voice was jagged, hands thumping against Morgan's shoulders in a way that you frantically looked around for Hotch. "What? Were you trying to make her feel bad? What's the matter with you?"

"Easy, Spencer, what are you getting at?" Morgan's hands went up defensively. But when Spencer's eyes flickered to you, the puzzle pieces clicked into place. "Oh..."

Morgan's eyes found yours. "Come here, sugar."

Morgan was your friend, a good one at that, and you really didn't blame him for what he said. He had good intentions. But here in the bullpen being open and exposed you found yourself stalling, glancing towards Spencer.

Only after he gave you a nod did you take that tentative step forward, clammy palms running down your pants as you stood in front of Morgan.

"Look, I was out of line. Calling you stupid was stupid of me," he started, hand grabbing on your upper arm as he spoke. "We've all been in tough spots and I was an asshole for adding to the pressure instead of helping you through it."

And you knew he meant it, even if it took Spencer nearly coming to blows to bring it about. 

"It's okay, I know you didn't mean it, Morgan. And it was my fault really, for not staying with Spencer."

"First off, we made that call together, so if anyone's at fault, it's both of us," Spencer reminded, his hand settling on your lower back as he moved closer to you. His gaze then drilled into Morgan. "And second, Morgan, she's too nice. I say you owe her a month's work of paperwork at least."

You opened your mouth to object, but Morgan cut you off, his hand on your shoulder stopping me mid-breath. "After what I said? I'll do you one better--I'll handle your paperwork for two months."

He was gone before you could even thank him, making his way towards the break room, leaving you and Spencer.

"Hey, look at me." You did, raising your eyes to meet his. "What happened on that last case—it's not on you. We made a call, and we did it with the best intentions. It's not your fault."

He regarded you so... softly. It stirred a flutter of goosebumps across your skin, your hands rubbing up and down your arms as if to smooth away the sensation.

"Seeing you in that situation, so close to..." You paused, drawing in a ragged breath as the sickening memories came flooding back. "I can't help but feel responsible. It's a tough guilt to shake."

He rearranged a lock of hair behind your ear. 

"It's a cognitive distortion to assume sole responsibility, but that's just your brain tricking you." Taking your hand he pressed it over his heart. "A human heart beats over two billion times in a lifetime. And every beat right now is telling you, I'm all good."

You could feel his heartbeat—thump, thump—against your palm. You caught yourself wanting to know what it would be like to fall asleep to the sound.

You were so close to each other now, the distance, or lack thereof, slightly overwhelming. "You're all good?"

He gave your hand a squeeze. "I'm all good."

You remained motionless, hand pressed to his chest, wondering if your heart could ever beat in sync with his.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath

[submattenthusiast]

handy

summary - rewarding matt for doing your handy work.

pairings; sub!matt x soft dom!reader

contents; smut; handjobs; oral (m! receiving) ; multiple orgasms ; use of pet-names (mommy, mama,baby, princess, etc), praise kink.

notes - watched nic's video and got inspired ,enjoy! not proofread.

walking down the huge aisles in ikea you were overwhelmed, to say the least. you needed a new vanity for your apartment, as you had just moved in a couple of weeks ago. hand in hand with your boyfriend matt, who came along to look at your options and show his skills, claiming to be a professional vanity builder. 

you were beginning to lose hope, none of the vanities matched the vibe you wanted for your room. “what about this one?” matt suggested, pointing at a huge white vanity. you turned in his direction, silently praying that this was the one. the vanity was perfect, with wide drawers on both sides, and a huge mirror with multiple vibrant lights. “yes yes that’s the one!!” you exclaimed excitedly. you observed it closer looking at all the details before purchasing. “this better be the one you want it’s huge and $250 baby” he chuckled, holding the flimsy price tag.

“it is i promise and since you’re mr professional, i’ll pay” you joked, pushing the cart towards the register. “the hell you are,” he said, making a bitter face, the thought of you paying for anything made him sick. “i can pay for myself matt’’ you defended. he snatched the wallet from your hands, shoving it in his back pocket. “you can but i’m a gentleman,” he winked. 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

“why did i volunteer to do this dumb shit” matt angrily groaned, he sighed deeply, frustrated wasn’t even the proper word to use. his cheeks tinted red and sweat was dripping down his pale neck. though sweaty he looked so sexy, white wife beater showing his tattooed arm, muscles popping out now and then.  “maybe if you read the instructions” you teased, gesturing towards the untouched packet in the corner of the room. he looked up at you with a glare, unamused by your comment. 

“and maybe you could help out” he suggested sarcastically, returning his focus to the materials on the floor. usually, his attitude would land him in hot water, but this time it was different. maybe because he was doing you a huge favor or maybe it was because he looked good doing it. either way, you wanted to jump his bones. you bit down hard on your lips, admiring the view in front of you. 

“hey! i tried to help but you waved me away smartass” you shot back. you adjusted your position on the bed, trying to ignore how bad he was turning you on. he gave you a look then rolled his eyes. “yeah yeah’’ he mumbled. “if it helps, you look good building it.’’ you complimented, good was an understatement though. “i’m all sweaty and gross, you into that?’’ he chuckled, posing as if he was a model. 

“no but i am into you being on your knees’’ you laughed, raising your eyebrows twice. you changed positions from sitting to lying down on your bed, fluffy blankets touching your skin delicately. “fuckin’ freak’’ he joked, making his way over to the edge of the bed, on his knees. he settled at the side of your bed, inches away from your face.

you reach your hands out to play with his brunette locks, a bit damp due to sweat, not that you minded. his eyes fluttered shut as you continued, matt loved it when you played with his hair, turning him on more than he would ever admit. “you’re so pretty,” you whispered, removing your hands from his hair down to his cheeks, decorated with a slight stubble. you moved a hand under his chin, making him look up at you. you placed your lips on his, softly kissing him, tasting the hint of vanilla on his pink lips. you deepened the kiss, opening your mouth and allowing matt to slip his tongue in. you moaned into his mouth, infatuated with the feeling of his lips on yours. 

you broke away from the kiss, needing to catch your breath. your chest moved up and down as you took slow breaths. finally opening your eyes, yours met matt’s blue ones, making you a bit nervous. eye contact with matt was always intense. his cheeks were flushed, as the kiss was a bit much. “you can’t kiss me like that then send me back to work” he stated, missing your lips already. he rested his head on your hands as if he was going to sleep. 

“how about this?’’ you started, he lifted his head, ears practically perking up, giving you his full attention. “if you finish the vanity i’ll give you a reward” you finished. “what kind of reward?” he questioned, he was intrigued by your proposal. you moved away from his face, returning to your original position. “i’ve got a few things in mind, but you’ll never find out if you don’t get to it,’’ you said, pointing to the mess on the floor.  

he shot up from his place on the floor, knees almost giving out. he was determined now, he’ll take whatever you give him. he shuffled over to the corner where the instructions were, picked it up, and showed it to you. “good boy” you chuckled, knowing he loved the praise. his cock twitched in his pants at your words, he stifled a moan, not wanting to give in that easily.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

“princess look look! i’m all done” he cheered, showing off the fully built vanity. he repeatedly pointed at it. you stood from the bed, excitedly skipping over towards matt. you sat in the chair, looking in the mirror, opening all the drawers, and ensuring everything was sturdy. you looked back at matt, who was cracking open a root beer, and smiled at him mouthing a “thank you”. he winked before sipping his favorite soda.

he walked towards the bed and flopped down, heavy sighs came from his lips.

he got comfortable in the blanket before he said “now what about that reward’’ matt said, raising an eyebrow while looking at you through the mirror. “is that the only reason you built this? that’s not very professional of you” you tease, getting up to join him on your bed. “very funny,” he said blankly. 

“lose that attitude if you want to cum tonight” you shot back, knowing that’ll shut him up. you sat next to him, throwing your legs over his thighs. “yes mommy, m sorry” he quickly submitted, knowing he couldn’t handle a denied orgasm tonight. “good, now what do you want mommy to do?” you questioned. today was all about you and now you wanted to take care of him. his rough hands caressed your plush thighs, wanting to be touching you always. 

“want your mouth, a-and your hands’ mama please” he whimpers, looking a bit embarrassed. you melted at his words, he was so shy during times like this, never being able to tell you what he wanted directly. “yeah, sweet boy? that all?’’, you wanted to make sure that he was getting everything he wanted tonight. he blushed at the pet name, a small smile forming at your words. “yes yes, m too tired for the full thing y'know, building” he shyly admitted. you giggled in response, “that’s alright, just makin’ sure” you reassured him.

the praise went straight to his dick, not trying to hide it whatsoever. after you called him a “good boy” earlier, he couldn't think straight. 

“lay back against the headboard for me okay?” you instruct. matt unraveled himself from inside the blankets and sat up against the headboard, just like you said. he was so eager for you to touch him but he just wanted to be good for you. you spread his long legs just enough for you to get between them. you sat on your heels in front of the boy, reaching down to unbuckle his belt. he sucked in a sharp breath once you pulled his pants down. 

his dick popped out of his boxers, hitting his stomach, wincing at the cold air hitting his tip. you were practically drooling, the sight made you horny. his tip was an angry red, leaking precum, begging to be touched. you spit into your hand before reaching down and wrapping your hand around him.

you pumped his dick lazily, starting at the base, thumb grazing over his tip. matt let out a sigh of relief, eyes fluttering shut, your hands felt tremendous around him. you wrapped another hand around him, adding to the pleasure. he cried out at the feeling, “o-oh shit, a little faster please?” he pleaded. you obliged, speeding up your movements. his whole body reacted to you, hips bucking up in response, thighs tensing up, stomach clenching.his fingers gripped at the sheets under him, pleasure becoming overwhelming.

“you’re doing so good, baby,” you cooed, praising him. his dick twitched in your hands, warning you of his orgasm. his mouth parted as he moaned out, ear- splittingly loud. “close fuck’’ he warned, holding back from cumming. you adjusted how you were jerking him, focusing more on his tip, rubbing in a circular motion.

“mommy cum please let-let me cum” he stuttered out, he wasn’t gonna be able to hold it much longer. you removed one hand, giving him a few more pumps before letting him cum. “you got it, cum for me” ,his legs shook upon hearing the word cum. matt threw his head back against the velvet headboard as ropes of cum spilled from his cock. you worked him through his orgasm, squeezing lightly at his base, milking him dry. whimpers and curses fell from his mouth as he came down from his high.

you slowly removed your hand from around him, wiping off the cum on the sheets below you. “you’re so good fuck” he spoke, mind blown by his previous orgasm. “i’m not even done yet matt” you snort. he was already fucked out and you hadn’t given him the head he requested. his eyes shot open, cursing himself for being needy earlier.

you take a deep breath before lowering yourself down. his cock still stood tall, a bit intimidating. you swallowed harshly before kissing up to the tip, leftover cum decorating your lips. he hissed as you moved your lips on him, still sensitive from before. “n-no teasing please n-need you” he murmured. “so impatient” you whispered before filling your mouth with him.

he let out a sharp breath as you took him fully. you started easy, gradually setting a pace. you gave the tip a few kitten licks, causing him to buck up into your mouth, tip hitting the back of your throat. spit started to dribble from the corner of your mouth, making a lubricant for you. his slender fingers curled into your hair, careful not to tug,

you start to bob your head up and down, fully adjusted to his length. his jaw went slack, continuous sobs spilling out. you moved your tongue skillfully against him, swiping in rushed pace, eager to bring him to the edge. your hands gripped on his thighs for stability, nails digging into his pale skin, earning a groan from him.

slurping noises and breathy moans rang throughout the room. matt was in bliss, the warmth of your mouth felt heavenly, as if you were made for him. he had completely disregarded the idea of not pulling on your hair, he tugged hard. “ah ah close again pl-fuck please” he cried, tangling his fingers further into your hair. 

you were unable to give him a vocal response as your mouth was occupied, you gave his thigh a couple taps. he looked at you with puppy eyes, begging to cum, you nodded before focusing back on his cock. 

a couple more bobs and he was cumming down your throat, white spurts filling your mouth. “o-oh my god mommy” he said breathlessly, “thank you fuck thank you felt so good” he rambled. you sat up from your position, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “you didn't have to swallow that m sorry i couldn’t hold it” he said, embarrassed.  you sat against the headboard now, extending your arms around matt. “it’s okay sweet boy, i wanted to alright?” you reassured him, kissing the top of his head. his hair was still damp from earlier but you didn’t care. all you wanted to do was make him feel good.

a/n - ass ending once again, thanks for reading !

taglist; @mattybsgroupie @frnkocnlvr @fratboychrisera @issysh3ll @zariyam 

[comicaurora]

I'm sorry that the terfs made their way onto your blog but it does feel good to see you support trans people. Thank you for that

Always.

I think, charitably, that the discourse going down on that post is an extrapolation and over-focus on one element of the point I was making: that for me, determining with certainty that I was cis was a rather fraught process. I was presented with many alternatives, but underlying their imposition on me was the oddly regressive idea that the things I liked, the principles I valued, the parts of myself I was proud of were not permitted of women. My whole life I got smacked with the background radiation that I couldn't like being strong because women aren't allowed to be stronger than men. I couldn't like being loud and boistrous because women aren't allowed to take up space. I couldn't be a math geek because women aren't smart. It was all deeply regressive misogyny from day one, but I started getting hit with it slathered in a fresh coat of paint - all those assumptions still held to be true, but now there was the out that I could do all those things if I just wasn't a woman.

Concluding that the underlying bioessentialist premise was wrong was very important. Absolutely none of those statements were true, and were only ever maintained by cultural saturation, goalpost-readjustment when they were actively disproven, and the occasional bout of lying with statistics to pretend they weren't just Shit All The Way Down. The core premise that certain things were only permitted of or possible for men was bullshit, and I didn't need to surrender the gender I liked best in order to play in the spaces I wanted to. I could simply exist the way I was already existing. I didn't need anything else.

The misinterpretation is the assumption that this being true of me means this is everybody's relationship with gender. I turned out to be cis, so for me, feeling that holding onto my assigned gender wasn't allowed was distressing - just another invocation of the same bioessentialist bullshit I'd been dealing with since the preschool playground. This is because misgendering is fundamentally denying that a person has the right to express themself the way they want. When aimed at me, it says I'm not performing traditional femininity well enough to deserve my pronouns. The same disrespect is the root of misgendering when aimed at trans people. "Perform your gender to my satisfaction or I will confiscate it."

The problem is, bioessentialism is 100% ingrained into the terf playbook, which is why, for instance, all their shitty talking points about trans athletes eventually boil down to "no woman can ever defeat a man in any contest because we are simply naturally weak and stupid and there is nothing we can do about it" and quite frankly nothing disgusts me more than the defeatist acceptance of the very lie that feminism is dedicated to overcoming. Instead of accepting that the paradigm of bioessentialism is a false dichotomy right from the jump, they embrace and weaponize it against the people whose existence proves the dichotomy is a lie. If gender essentialism is fundamentally false, then it is nobody's fucking business what anybody does with their gender. If the lines don't exist, nobody needs to enforce them. And yet there the terfs go, hunting down people whose lives are none of their business and trying to argue that they represent some great and terrible evil, some downfall of society made flesh, something that makes it totally correct and normal for them to spend so much time thinking about strangers' genitalia. They want this to be a noble crusade so badly they won't even examine what flag they're flying.

I love and support the trans people in my life and will always, always stand on the side of your right to exist, but alongside that, terf rhetoric especially disgusts and infuriates me because it is, at its heart, utter cowardice. The world told them they were weak and stupid and inferior and they fucking believed it. And now they think Fighting The Good Fight For Women means turning around and using the same paradigmatic weapon that hurt them to hurt the people whose existence outside the binary proves the weapon is a lie. They're the same shithead schoolyard bullies who made me believe my entire existence was foundationally wrong for years of my life and I will never, ever side with them or the shitty, cowardly rhetoric that contributed to the loneliest years of my life.

Figure out who you are and do it on purpose. Find the real source of the misery in your life and try fighting that instead of the other crabs in the bucket. Trans rights.

[gothcsz]

The Boy is Mine | Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | ~7k wc | Part 1 of the Fantasize series | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: You become obsessed with the new DEA attaché.

Tags: oral (m receiving), stalking, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation (f), we're humping a pillow y'all, light spanking, javi's gun makes an appearance, some physical descriptions but overall it's pretty vague, dubcon, no use of Y/N, reader is a photojournalist, other shit i’m probably forgetting.

A/N: i told myself i was going to take my time with this but i've been hyperfixated on this song and music video since it dropped... imagining my favorite pedro boy and... well i cranked this sucker out so fast. oh to break in to javi's apartment and blow him into oblivion 😫 let me know what you think! i might write a part 2 if there's interest for it xoxo mwah enjoy queridas. 🖤

DIVIDERS CREDIT: saradika

You’ve never seen a man so handsome. So determined. So capable.

So perfect.

You knew from the moment you laid eyes on him that he was the one.

You’d been waiting outside of the embassy in the pouring rain for over an hour trying to catch him while on his break, wanting to get a quote from the new DEA attaché on his plans to tackle the Cali cartel.

That’s why you’re here in Colombia. Fresh out of grad school with a masters in photojournalism. Your advisor had presented to you a great position in South America involving documenting the war on drugs and its subsequent effects. Despite Pablo Escobar’s death, this so called war remained relentless, and with your ability to capture photos that truly are worth a thousand words, your advisor knew you’d be perfect for the job.

So here you are, immersed in a beautiful country, working your dream job. It had its bad days just like anything else; but your passion and prowess made those hard days worth it.

When he finally did emerge from the government building, you shivered and it wasn’t because you were soaking wet from the rain. 

Your handbag did little to nothing to shield you from it as you held it over your head and jogged over to him.

He immediately blew you off, quickly eyeing your appearance before giving you a simple ‘no comment’ which would usually piss you off and have you press further–– however, you were left in a trancelike state by merely being in his presence.

He was more handsome than you could have imagined. You didn’t know what he looked like before arriving, solely going off the description given to you by your boss then what little his secretary had told you when you called to ask for a meeting earlier (which you were denied).

Brows cinched together in a perpetual frown, pouty lips turned downward in a scowl with chocolate brown eyes that make you miss the warmth of your hometown. 

He had taken your breath away entirely, leaving you standing there in a puddle of both rain and arousal as he darted off in the opposite direction.

That was all you needed, really, to be thrown into a pit of absolute delusion and wanton want for Javier Peña.

You watch him relentlessly. At first, it began with scouring through the archives, reading any printings that involved him, seeing his photograph on countless articles and video footage of him giving press conferences.

The more you dived in to the professional life of the agent, the more devoted you became.

Then the following started. To and from work. Late nights at the bar. While tracking down leads. You can’t help yourself, you are obsessed. Everything this man does is fascinating, further deluding you into an infatuated trance.

You don’t know where this side of you came from. You’re usually so unproblematic and independent, your sole focus being your career with little to no time to even fathom romance.

There’s just something about him that flipped this twisted switch within you, rendering you a cock-thirsty, lovestruck mess.

One night, you watched him bring another woman home and that’s when you realized how palpable your obsession had gotten. The jealousy that bubbled in your chest became unbearable. So much, that it led you to get out of your car, climb the fire escape of his luxurious apartment building, and onto his balcony.

You observed from the other side of the glass door, in the shadows, as he took this woman on his couch.

A plethora of toxic emotions swirled within you. Envy and arousal the most intense, your thighs clenching together at the sight of his bare torso against the gentle, warm light of the singular lamp that was on.

A sheen of sweat glistened over his tan skin. He is so chiseled with a softness that makes you want to run your tongue against every dip and ridge, all the way down to the enticing trail of hair that leads right to what you crave the most.

You sighed, fantasizing about being in that lucky bitch’s spot, with his hands running all over you, kneading and squeezing your curves, the scratch of his mustache having your skin curl beneath the coarser touch. You managed to control the whimper that threatened to slip up your throat in the off chance that it got you caught.

It’s not until you felt your pager in your pocket that you returned to reality, the buzz forcefully pulling you from your erotic daydream. With a final glance at their moving bodies, at him, you swiftly descended the fire escape and to the nearest phone booth.

Since that night you’ve been insatiable. You just need one taste, a small, micro dose of him to keep your hunger at bay.

It’s not until a few days later that you return to his apartment. He’s away for work in Cali (you followed him to the airport, watching him board the plane behind your thick sunglasses and a newspaper) leaving his place empty with no surveillance. You ascend the fire escape again, the city lights of the capitol twinkling in the distance. 

Slipping your gloves on, you expertly pick the lock of the balcony door before suavely entering the space. You’ve been practicing on your own at home in preparation.

It’s neat and clean. Not much personality to it which is unsurprising considering how stoic this man is. His hardened demeanor amongst the many things about him that drive you crazy. There’s never a break in his expression, always painted with typical tension and weariness.

You wonder if you could be the one who is able to crack him. To get a reaction out of that handsome face.

After surveying the entirety of the open space, you sneak down the hallway and push open the door of his bedroom.

Immediately, his smell engulfs your senses and your eyes flutter close at the scent. It’s comforting yet enticing; nothing different than what other men smell like, but there’s something about Javier specifically that you just can’t describe.

It’s so satisfying. A fucking aphrodisiac.

Walking deeper into the room, you diligently rummage through his belongings, beginning in his en suite bathroom.

With every little piece you study, you learn more about the agent. What toothpaste he uses, the brand of razors that he buys, the specific shade of blue of his towels.

Little things you wouldn’t be able to catch during your, plainly put, stalking.

Back in the room, you open the drawer that stores his shirts, your fingers running along the front of a brightly colored pink one that’s neatly folded at the top.

You imagine yourself walking around in this and nothing else, the softness of the fabric hanging from your curves, unbuttoned enough to expose the swells of your breasts, and maybe even a nipple slip to tempt him even further.

Would he think you look sexy in his clothes?

You now stand at the foot of his large bed, the window behind it casting the silver of the moonlight against the mattress tantalizingly, as if urging you to go full on goldilocks by climbing in it and pretending it’s a bed you share with him.

You stare and you stare, lower lip pinched between your teeth before you gently crawl onto it, lowering your chest so it brushes against the duvet as your nose trails up up up until it’s at his pillow, inhaling deeply as you get a more potent smell of him. 

A sweet moan pushes through your lips, your clit throbbing in tandem with your heart as you lose yourself entirely, your mind already conjuring an erotic fantasy.

Your lips against his thick neck, licking and biting the salty skin while he fucks you in missionary. The details become so vivid; that familiar furrow of his brows as he concentrates on your soaking cunt swallowing his cock, fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he praises you for taking his dick like the good little slut that you are.

You whimper, grinding your hips against the mattress, the friction delicious against your clit, while your nose remains buried in the pillow.

Deciding that you need more, you lift your head momentarily to grab one of the other cushions and then slip your jeans off; tossing them on the floor and placing the cushion between your thighs.

Positioning yourself at the perfect angle, you bring the pillow he sleeps on up to your face and begin to grind down on the one between your legs.

Drifting back to your lewd thoughts, you picture him beneath you while your hips move at a sensual pace. You know you’d take him bare, needing to feel every vein and divot… how thick he is breaking your pussy open while simultaneously molding it to fit perfectly tight around his cock.

His mouth on your bouncing breasts, nipping and sucking on your nipples while his large hand runs down to land a harsh slap against your ass cheek, groping the skin to soothe it before repeating the action again and again and again.

You move faster against the pillow, your now ruined panties only adding to the overwhelming sensation as the wet fabric rubs against your needy pussy. 

“Javier…” His name falls from your lips in a gasp when your face leaves the pillow, your body needing fresh air but you being selfish and wanting to suffocate in his scent. You know your wetness is smearing all over the pillow but you really don’t give a fuck at the moment, too caught up in your own pleasure and delusions to think of how wrong this is.

But it feels so good.

Your free hand goes under your shirt and bra to massage your sensitive tit, stomach tightening as your orgasm begins to creep up on you.

You think of his devilishly curved nose and how fucking magnificent it’d feel nudging against your clit while you ride his face. That position specifically has always made you a little nervous due to the thickness of your thighs and ass, but you just know that he would be able to handle it like the sex god that he is.

His tongue would lap over your slit hungrily, kissing your folds before wrapping his lips around the flesh of your clit and sucking hard. The phantom sensation of it is enough to get you to hump harder against the pillow and bury your face into the one in your hands once more, your cunt clenching around nothing as euphoria washes over you.

The room is filled with your muffled moans and cries of his name as you come undone, hips wildly thrusting against the cushion and your juices absolutely soak through it.

It’s an out of body experience, really, as you attempt to return back to earth.

You’ve never came that hard, especially not on your own.

Breathing heavily, you take what feels like an eternity to calm your shaking body down. Once your mind is a little clearer, you wobble off the bed and proceed to wash the pillow you just marked like a possessive cat, lounging around his apartment until you’ve made sure everything is as he left it before swiftly making your exit.

His return comes in the form of a news broadcast. You’re in the middle of cooking dinner when you hear the anchorwoman report that one of the Cali godfathers, Gilberto Rodríguez, has been arrested thanks to the joint efforts of the DEA and Search Bloc.

The kitchen knife falls from your hands and onto the cutting board as you scurry over to the boxy television set in your living room, fingers twisting the knob to increase the volume as he appears.

You’re kneeled in front of the screen, face damn near pressed up against it as you intently watch him command the room. He stands behind a podium with microphones pointed at him from every direction, cameras shuttering, an array of men on either side of him and a large crowd gathered at the front.

“I promise you… the other three godfathers will fall.”

You nod your head as if he is speaking only to you, “That’s right baby, you tell them. So hot.” 

You stand, attention still fully on the television as that familiar stir of arousal begins to heat up within you.

He’s home and your resolve is wearing thin. Thin enough that you decide to say fuck it.

You need another taste.

Dinner is long forgotten as you go to your room, pulling open the closet and grabbing a solid black box from the top shelf.

You purchased this little number when your fantasies had begun. Wearing it around your apartment while you teased yourself, roleplaying him coming home after a long work trip and using your pussy to help him forget the horrors of his job.

Using a realistic looking dildo, you imagined it to be the man of your dreams while you fucked yourself with it in a myriad of positions.

The outfit is simple. A short, black leather dress with a corset bust and sheer sleeves that cover your shoulders and arms, doing a great job of making you look sexy. The skirt falls at your upper thigh, exposing your nylon clad legs paired with simple black heels. You slip on your mesh gloves, your red acrylics popping against the black, almost see through material.

The ensemble looks divine against your skin but you feel like something is missing. Taking one, long look at your face you realize that you’re not ready to fully reveal yourself to him, so you turn back to your closet and your eyes light up once you see the cat mask you wore to a costume party not that long ago.

You smirk at the idea.

A sexy little cat burglar. Breaking in to take what she wants.

Putting it on, your reflection stares back at you and you feel like a whole different person. The corset cinches your waist just right, your thighs curvy and inviting beneath the stockings, tits pressed together and almost spilling out the top.

The lacy mask covers half your face, leaving your glossy lips exposed with cute kitten ears at the top. 

You’d fuck yourself, honestly. This new wave of confidence does nothing but fuel your determination.

Walking over to the opposite side of your room, you tilt your head up to take in the shrine of photos you’ve made of him.

Most come from you and your camera, all those days you spent watching him and documenting his every move. Others are from newspapers then there’s some messy sketches you did out of boredom.

Your finger comes up to trace his sharp features on one of the pictures, lingering on his nose and your pussy tingles as you breathe out a wistful sigh.

You can’t wait to try him.

Throwing on a black trench coat, you leave your apartment and take the familiar route to his. It’s raining, but not harsh enough to spoil your plans. Just a light drizzle.

When you arrive, your heart sinks at the fact that he isn’t home yet. Of course. He was just on TV! You hadn’t really thought this plan all the way through, absolutely blinded by your desire.

Whatever, you take the time to touch up on your makeup and fix your hair. The night presses on until finally you see his jeep coming down the road and pulling into the garage of the building.

With a final look over in your rearview mirror, you exit the car and cross the street to make your way up the familiar ladder, careful not to slip against the slick surface with the heels you have on.

Thankfully there’s no one out tonight, and if there was you aren’t sure how the hell you’d explain what you’re doing. You don’t even know how to explain it to yourself.

The butterflies in your stomach wildly flutter once you make it to his balcony, rain droplets adorn the glass door and you crouch to keep yourself hidden.

He walks in not long after, looking exhausted as ever as he pulls his tie loose around his neck and tosses his keys into a small bowl at the entryway table. His expensive dress shoes are kicked off, suit jacket slipping from shoulders revealing how broad he is. You bite your lip.

He stalks across the apartment, not even glancing in your direction, unbuttoning part of his shirt and rolling up the sleeves. His figure is a little blurry due to the condensation on the door but you don’t care, you’re under his spell as you watch him pour himself a glass of whiskey.

Wetting your lips, you can almost taste the spicy liquor as he drinks it in one shot before pouring himself another. Except this time it’s on the rocks.

Would the ice make his lips cool? Surely. A shiver dances down your spine at the thought of them pressed against your heated skin. 

The orange street light casts softly into the space, the shadows sharpening his features and making him look more rugged and masculine and just downright fuckable. You want to so badly break through the glass and take a seat on that chiseled jaw, to have him harshly grip your ass as you fuck yourself on his tongue.

He disappears down the hallway and into his office, giving you the opportunity to sneak in like last time. You give yourself one final pep talk before fully committing, slipping off the trench coat and tossing it aside.

After picking the lock, you very diligently and quietly slide the door open and enter, shutting it behind you.

Just like the cat burglar you pretend to be, you suavely follow his trail down the hallway, leaving a wet trail of your own from the rain, stopping at the cracked door of his office.

You see him hunched over his wooden desk, back facing you, deep in thought at whatever documents lay sprawled against the surface.

His back muscles tense with every subtle move he makes, your dark eyes taking him in entirely from his slutty little waist to the curls at the nape of his neck.

You can tell he’s been frustratingly running his fingers through his hair since it’s sticking up in some places, making it look so sexily tousled.

You want to tug on it, run your fingertips against his scalp while he devours you whole.

So lost in your observance of him, you don’t catch the moan that escapes you and his head snaps up at the sound. 

Your eyes widen and you take a delicate step back, still watching as he reaches for the gun that’s nestled against his lower back.

Trying not to make too much noise, you make your way further down the hall and into his bedroom, heart in your throat as you climb into his bed, laying on your side with your body weight propped up on one hand as you anticipate his presence.

This is it. This is what you’ve been dreaming of since the moment you laid eyes on him.

The first thing you see is the silver tip of his pistol as the door opens further, then he comes fully into view with that goddamn scowl on his face that makes your skin tingle.

His breath hitches once he lays eyes on you, large hands squeezing the weapon as you sexily wave at him.

“Hello agent.”

Your sweet voice fills the space, the muted sound of the weather picking up outside serving as the perfect white noise to set the ambiance for this scene.

“Who the fuck are you and how the hell did you get in here?”

Oh, his voice. So smooth yet raspy like the whiskey and cigarettes he can’t live without.

“An admirer that saw you took down one of the godfathers and decided to come thank you in person.”

His gaze narrows, gun lowering slightly as he contemplates whether you’re a threat or not.

You are, but not in the way that he thinks.

“How did you get in?”

“That’s a trick I’m going to have to keep to myself.”

You shift your body, moving to rest on your knees and you watch as his eyes lustfully trace the contours of your figure. You’re absolutely keening beneath the heaviness of his stare, loving the fact that you have his undivided attention.

It doesn’t even worry you that he’s got a fully loaded gun pointed right at your pretty face. If anything, it just turns you on even more.

“What do you want?”

“I already told you. To thank you in person.” Your eyes roll and his jaw tightens.

“Thank me in person?” He echoes your words with a dry chuckle, “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Let me show you.” Your tone is hushed and dripping with suggestion, slipping off the bed slowly and sensually.

You watch his adam’s apple bob at your change of position, letting him see you in your full get up, watching intently as his eyes land on a different part of your body with every second that passes.

“Drop the gun, Javier.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I could do right now.”

You cock your head to the side, eyes narrowing behind the mask as you contemplate your next move.

He’s standing on the rug that’s spread out against the wooden floor which gives you an idea.

“Please? I’m not going to hurt you.” You whine with a pout, beginning to lower yourself to the ground as if showing him your unwavering submission.

The seconds that tick by feel like hours as you attentively take each other in. Then you hear it, your ears twitching at the faint sound of the safety switching on and it’s enough to spur you into action.

You don’t know where this newfound strength comes from, probably the adrenaline you feel of simply existing in the same room as him. You yank the rug, causing him to lose his footing as he falls onto his back with a loud thud, the gun slipping from his grasp and sliding across the floor.

He groans out in pain but you don’t care, pulling him closer, then fully on your knees as you begin to crawl over to him.

“I told you to put the gun down.” 

He’s still on his back, making no attempt to move as you draw closer. He does lean up on his forearms, dark eyes fixed on you, watching as you shuffle on your hands and knees until you plant your hands on his shins and work your way up.

You barely graze the hardening bulge in his pants, causing him to shudder, and white heat licks at your core knowing that in this moment; he wants you too.

The two of you don’t break eye contact as you straddle him, gloved hands falling on his pecs.

“I’m not usually like this…” you begin in a gentle murmur, running your open palms anywhere you can, relishing in feeling his taut body beneath yours after fantasizing about it for so long, “Shit, it’s like news to me, but I can’t ignore my heart anymore.”

One of your hands wraps around his tie, tugging on it harshly until you’re nose to nose with the man that’s been living in your head rent free for the past few weeks.

His lust blown, brown eyes search yours, as if trying to discern your identity which you assume he’ll never figure out. You’ve only ever had that one interaction and even then he had barely paid you any attention.

You feel his breath fanning across your mouth, so badly do you want to press your lips against his but you suppress the urge.

You continue to play with him, enjoying this sense of power you have with how compliant he’s being.

You expected for him to be fully dominant, which you know he’s capable of being since you watched him fuck the shit out of that one girl. But it seems like this, your taboo act and the suddenness of it, is affecting him in an entirely different way.

You put pressure against your palms, having him lay flat on his back and you hover over him, taking in all the small details of his charming face.

The frown lines, hairs of his mustache, blemishes and faint scars. Every little detail making you fall harder and harder for him. He has no idea just how much he means to you.

“What game are you playing at here, gatita?” He gives in, entranced by this enigma of a woman that’s perched over him. His calloused hands grip at your outer thighs, blunt fingernails almost ripping the fabric of your stockings.

You hum at his touch, loving the sound of the pet name, gently rocking on his lap and clutching his shirt in your fists.

“One where you’re the prize, handsome.”

You lean forward, sticking your tongue out and slowly licking a broad stripe from his chin all the way to the tip of his nose, curling your tongue when you flick at it.

His chest vibrates with a groan and you smirk at the feeling of his cock twitching underneath his pants.

“You looked so good on the news tonight. I couldn’t help myself.”

You undo his tie, toying with the notion of wrapping it around his wrists to detain him, but with what you have planned on doing to him tonight, you’d rather keep his hands accessible. 

Maybe next time.

You toss the silky fabric aside to focus on unbuttoning his shirt. He does nothing but remain silent, his chest heaving up and down while he suppresses the primal urge to take over and fuck this sweet little thing that’s dropped herself on his lap.

And you know he’s more than capable of switching the roles. He’s strong and skilled, could easily flip you onto your back and proceed to exert his dominance over you.

But you’re the one with the grand plan here, not him, and he’s indulging in your shared fantasy by letting you do whatever it is that you want, lost in a horny daze of his own.

The silence is comfortable and it further builds the sexual tension. You finish getting his shirt undone, opening it wider to get a better look at his toned body.

“So hot. You drive me crazy, agent.” You’re so wet, the slickness of your arousal seeping through the flimsy material of your thong smears against his fancy dress pants.

“Y tú, kitten, look like something out of a wet fucking dream. I have to be dreaming.”

You giggle, blushing at his words as some coyness slips into your facade.

“You’re not dreaming. I promise you.” 

Leaning down once more, you begin to leave wet kisses against the cut of his jaw, suckling on the warm skin then running your nose along the length of his neck.

You take in a deep breath, smelling his cologne atop of his sweat and natural scent and you feel so high. 

No amount of cocaine comes close to how Javier Peña makes you feel.

You suck a love bite against a protruding vein in his neck, a grunt pushing past his lips at the sensation of your teeth grazing the skin. 

Satisfied with your possessive marking, you lick from his jaw all the way up to his ear, biting down on the lobe.

“Now I’m going to taste you.” You purr seductively, leaning back to look down at his absolutely wrecked face.

His puppy eyes stare up at you like you’re the only woman in the world, a goddess that’s decided to bestow such an erotic experience onto him. He knows you’re about to ruin his body for any other woman that comes after you.

You decide to be a little theatrical, slowly pulling off your gloves to reveal your pretty hands and fresh manicure.

He can’t help but bring his large hand up to grasp your wrist, pulling your hand closer to his face as he studies your nails before gently nipping at your fingers, then slipping two digits into his mouth, running his tongue all over them and sucking them softly.

You gasp at the sensation, not breaking eye contact while he smirks at your reaction. Suddenly, lighting strikes and the room is illuminated for a split second in the white light. 

You both look so feral, suspended in this vivacious moment.

Pulling your hand away, you let it drag down his pouty bottom lip, pinching the delicate skin before shuffling back on his lap.

You hover again, this time at eye level with his chest as you place soft kisses against his brown skin, tongue peering out to lick his pecs then down his soft tummy.

His hips buck involuntarily and you pull back, tilting your head to the side as you look down at him.

“Stay still or this little kitten is going to find someone else to play with.”

A litany of curses fall from his lips in both English and Spanish, but you pay it no mind, your attention on his belt as you unbuckle it then pop the button of his dress pants.

Leaning down, you bring your face until it’s right at his crotch and you catch the metallic zipper between your teeth.

Slowly pulling it down, your eyes flit up to him and he’s intently watching you, his own tongue hanging from his mouth like a dog in anticipation of what you’re about to do.

You press your nose into the fabric of his now exposed boxers, nuzzling your face against his erection and his breath catches in his throat.

Your wetness managed to penetrate through his pants and onto his boxers, so you kitten lick your arousal from him and he lets out a guttural moan.

Basking in the sounds of his pleasure, you continue until there’s a giant wet spot on the cotton.

Deciding that it’s time you get what you came here for, your fingers hook at the band of his bottoms, dragging them down to his mid thigh and he assists you by lifting his hips.

His cock is so fucking big. Your eyes widen at the sight as it rests against his left thigh.

It’s thick, like you imagined, with ridges and veins that are begging to be traced by the tip of your tongue.

The color of it is a little darker than the rest of his body, the weeping tip plush and leaking with excessive precum from your foreplay. It’s cut with a subtle curve, long enough to where you know if he angles it just right; he’d bruise the fuck out of your cervix.

“Mmm,” you hum, licking your lips like a woman who has been starved for far too long.

“¿Que pasó, nena? Cat got your tongue?” This asshole, teasing you as if he’s not the one at your mercy.

But is that really the truth? One would observe that you’re the one at his mercy; considering your obsession with the DEA agent.

“It just looks so delicious,” you purr, bringing your hand to hover your face.

Meeting his gaze, you seductively lick your palm, wetting it with your saliva before wrapping it around his throbbing length.

“Mierda,” he hisses, head dropping back against the hardwood floor as you begin to pump him in languid motions, getting a feel for what he likes. Attuned.

His flesh feels warm and smooth beneath your smaller hand, your thumb swipes over his tip as you collect some of his precum.

You bring it up to your lips, sucking it into your mouth and you whimper at the taste. Salty, heady, intoxicating.

You need more.

Your hand leaves his cock as you position yourself in between his strong thighs. His dick stands erect, waiting for you to lavish it in your attention.

Leaning down, you poke your tongue out to run one long, broad stripe from his balls all the way up to his head.

He shudders, fists clenching at his sides while his slit spurts out more precum.

“I got you all wet, baby.” you gloat with a gentle laugh, repeating the motion a few more times.

Each groan of his and twitch of his body influences you to keep going, placing open mouthed kisses all over his base then up and down his cock. Making out with it.

You let a wad of spit fall over his tip and watch as it drips down obscenely over his length, bringing your hand back to pump him a little faster with a tighter grip. Your saliva drips from in between your knuckles. 

“That’s it, gatita, just like that pretty girl.” He’s getting more vocal now and you’re intoxicated, drunk off his praise.

You slap the fat head of his cock against your pursed lips a few times before letting your tongue lap at the slit then sinfully lick around the tip. 

Your tongue continues its assault on his girth, lapping every inch of it like he’s a refreshing mango popsicle on a hot summer day.

The attention is then shifted on his balls as you continue to jerk him, the tip of your muscle outlining the sensitive skin before you suck one into your mouth softly.

“Puta madre, bebita, esa boquita feels like fucking heaven.”

You whimper, nuzzling your nose against his sack and taking in his musky smell. Your mouth waters, drool leaking from the corners as you reposition yourself back over his hard cock.

You part your lips, taking him slowly, inch by inch as you savor the weight of him inside your hot mouth. Your hand remains at his base while you swallow him whole, tongue lapping around the bits that it can reach.

It’s not until you feel him tickle the back of your throat that you pull back slightly, sucking your cheeks in and beginning to set a slow pace.

Up, down, up, down.

He’s so fucking big, you’re not able to take him fully down your throat… yet. You’re gonna need a moment to break open your mouth enough to fit him.

He continues with his praises. The sweet filth that fills your ears urging you to be a good girl and to suck his cock like your life depends on it.

Because it does. All you want to do is lose yourself in him, to become nothing more than just Javier’s plaything.

Tears pool at your tear ducts from the messy head you’re giving but it doesn’t deter you. You just blink them away and take him further down your throat.

You splutter and gag as he presses against your uvula, causing him to inadvertently bring his hand down to the back of your head, fisting your hair.

You wince but the pain feels delicious on your scalp. You pull away and his saliva coated cock falls from your swollen lips with a trail of spit connecting you two.

“I want you to fuck my face, Javier. Can you do that for me?”

You bat your lashes, biting on your lower lip as you look up at him.

Your back is arched sexily, giving him a good view of your ass behind you as you remain on your knees in between his legs.

“Si, gatita, whatever you want.”

He gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, guiding you back to his cock.

He slips back into your mouth easily, his hips bucking upward to fully bury himself down your throat.

You breathe through your nose as he begins to set the pace, much harsher and faster than what you’ve been doing on your own.

The filthy sounds of his groans mixed with your gagging and squelching of your mouth fill the room and it’s like music to your ears.

You fucking love this. Love the way he’s fucking your throat and using it to get himself off.

His other hand falls down to tenderly caress your cheek, cupping your jaw and that sets off an explosion of fireworks against your needy pussy, moving your hips against nothing. The simple act is enough to get you closer to your own orgasm.

Your fingernails dig into his meaty thighs when he manages to fully situate himself into your mouth, the tip of your nose brushing against his coarse pubic hairs.

He keeps you there, depriving you of oxygen and your jaw aches with how it’s been widely unhinged for the past however long.

You don’t care about your pain, you only care about tasting his cum when he finally releases inside of you.

“I’m so close baby, god damn it I could die in this pretty little mouth. Such a filthy whore, breaking into my apartment just so you can suck my cock.”

You whimper, the sound vibrating around his shaft and you bring one of your hands down beneath your skirt and panties, rubbing tight circles against your engorged clit.

He goes back to thrusting in and out of your throat while you pleasure yourself; both of you teetering on the precipice of your respective orgasms.

The hold on the back of your head tightens as his climax begins to peak, and the tension of it is enough to send you over the edge first.

You splutter and groan all over his cock while you cum, your release coating your fingers and dripping down your folds and onto your inner thighs.

“Fuck I’m about to come. You better swallow every fucking drop gatita. Isn’t that what you came here for? Ah-shit, to milk my cock like the perverted bitch that you are?”

If you hadn’t come already, you would be now with his abrasive words and rougher thrusts of his hips.

“I bet, fuuuck, bet that pussy tastes so fucking sweet and feels as heavenly as this mouth. Ay gatita sucia, you gonna let me destroy your tight little cunt or are you going to leave me with just a taste of your boquita?”

You want to respond, to tell him that you want nothing more than to have his cock split you open, to render you a mess that can’t walk for days after getting fucked hard by him.

His thrusts stagger and he comes with a primitive growl, his hot seed spilling into your mouth and down your throat.

You moan at the feeling and he holds you flush against his pelvis while he empties his balls into you.

When he’s finally drained, you tentatively let him fall from your mouth with a lewd pop, some of his spend still resting on your tongue.

You climb up his body again, noticing the bead of sweat dripping from the tip of his brow and down his chiseled cheek. His lips are swollen, much like yours, from chewing on it due to the intensity of your ministrations.

His dark eyes are swimming with lust and adoration, shallow breaths exhaling from his nostrils.

You open your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out so he can see his milky cum against the pink muscle before you retract it and swallow exaggeratedly, smirking as you bring the back of your hand up to wipe the saliva and other fluids that coat the bottom half of your face.

“Thank you for keeping us safe from the narcos, agent.” You whisper, reaching for your gloves to slip them back on.

He watches intently before he raises the hand that had just cupped your cheek affectionately to the edge of your mask, beginning to lift it up to expose your identity.

“¿Quien eres, gatita?”

You stop him by grasping his wrist harshly, shaking your head.

“Un secreto,” you whisper back, close enough to where your lips are softly brushing against each other.

Moving his hand away from your face, your eyes gaze into his one final time before you lean in to press a sweet kiss against his lips. 

It’s everything you dreamed of and more, the feeling of his mouth slotting against yours in the most passionate kiss you’ve ever shared with anyone.

You pull back before things get heated again, your mission now complete until the next time.

“I’m going to leave now,” you begin in a hushed tone, “and you’re going to stay right here. You’re not going to follow me out or stop me. Are we clear?”

Another tilt of your head and you can see the resistance in his stare, how badly he wants to keep you here like a pet. His kitten.

But he nods ever so slightly.

“Will I see you again?”

Yes, but you don’t reveal this to him so easily.

“Only if you do something worth warranting a visit.”

With that, you rise from his lap, your long legs on either side of his waist as you look down upon this man you just wrecked without giving him your name or letting him get a good look at your face.

His eyes trail over you, trying to etch the image of you in his mind for the lonely days that are about to come.

He won’t forget you, that’s for sure. You’re about to infiltrate his mind in the same manner in which he infiltrated yours.

The soft click of your heels can be heard as you depart from his bedroom, leaving him with his soft cock out and pants down his legs.

Before closing the bedroom door behind you, you stop and look at him over your shoulder.

“Goodnight agent.”

The minutes tick by agonizingly slow before he scrambles to get up, grunting at the subtle pain in his back as he tucks himself back into his pants and picks his gun up to place on the dresser.

He follows your wet trail down the hallway and to the glass door of his balcony that you purposefully left cracked; an answer to his earlier question.

“How the hell did you get in here?”

He smirks when he sees the heart shape you’ve left against the surface.