scarletsugars

[scarletsugars]

Pump - A Javier Peña One Shot

Summary: A man starts coming into the gym where you work, and you find you can't keep your eyes off him when he starts to pump...

Pairing: Javier Peña x GN!Reader (No name, defined sex or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 2.6k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️ “Don't hurt me, cadejo."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: PWP/Javi wearing the tiniest satin shorts ever made/cock outline/possible peek of a ball/very pervy thoughts over a very sweaty Javi 🥵

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: I saw this amazing fanart today of Javi, and the thots just thotted the fuck out of me... 🫠

MAIN MASTERLIST | JAVIER PEÑA MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

His visits are the fucking highlight of your day.

You find yourself searching for him as you meander through the gym with an added bounce in your step, stack of laundered towels in hand as you drop them around the equipment like newspapers tossed on garden lawns.

Rows of clunky weightlifting machines stand proudly, their chrome frames gleaming under the dim fluorescent lights.

Tattered, vinyl-covered benches line the perimeter of the room, each one bearing the marks of countless hours of use by sweaty bodies and muscled lunkheads striving for physical perfection.

The sound of heavy metal plates clinking together fills the air as the group of agents, from the local DEA office across the steamed pavement street, load up barbells and dumbbells, their focused expressions a melee of pinched, taut brows and refined muscles.

Despite the seriousness of their profession, the moderately sized gym is a tatty haven where they can unwind and bond over their shared passion for catching dangerous narcos and pumping iron in machismo camaraderie.

The walls in Manny’s Gym are adorned with curled edge motivational posters featuring slogans like No Pain, No Gain and Train Hard, Fight Easy, with iconic muscle men of the current era plastered over them like Arnold Schwarzenegger, Franco Columbu, and Lou Ferrigno, serving as constant reminders of the grit and determination required to succeed in both the gym and the field.

The air is always thick with the unmistakable scent of musky sweat, mingling with the earthy aroma of old leather from well-worn punch bags that hang from the ceiling like dangling scrotums swaying in a pendulous rhythm.

Steamy showers and weak powdery deodorant permeates. It’s a heady concoction that hints at the countless hours of exertion and dedication that's saturated the space.

A scent that you’re all too familiar with and breathe in like starved oxygen.

The wooden floor creaks beneath your sneakers as you make your way further into the gym, the sound echoing off the walls.

As you approach the rows of clunky weightlifting machines, the tangy scent of metal fills your nostrils, accompanied by the faint whiff of oil used to lubricate the gears.

Despite his gruff exterior, Manny himself hosts a warm and welcoming demeanour to the regular gym goers, always ready with a word of encouragement, or a pat on the back for those who train under his roof.

He takes great pride in the sense of community that’s flourished within the gym, fostering a supportive environment where the local Bogotá law and DEA alike choose to pump here.

It’s not exclusive, your regular Joe Sixpack will frequent on occasion, but the familiar faces make it far more easy on the eye as you bask in the array of sweaty limbs on the daily.

They give you wolf-whistles and jeers as you shimmy on by handing out towels and sweat bands with a beaming, enticing smile.

But you don’t pay them no mind when they flirt back and grin with glistening rows of hungry teeth like you’re ripe for the plucking. A juicy peach bobbing in a swamp full of toothless alligators. They're physically respectful despite their obvious leers.

Most of them aren't really your type anyway. Stiff, upper pale bodies with honeyed hair falling in waves; the Americans are all the same Mattel crafted hard plastic.

Whereas you prefer something more dark and velvety rich like Colombian coffee that goes down easy and smooth and leaves a heady aftertaste on your lips.

There's one man in particular you'd like to drink down, whom you’ve noticed coming in a few times in recent weeks.

It’s hard to forget him with those tiny, satin shorts he wears in a stark canary yellow, and riding dangerously high up his lean, caramel thighs.

A neatly trimmed moustache adorns his upper lip, thick and fluffy, adding a touch of rugged charm to his otherwise clean-cut appearance. His standard issue DEA gym t-shirt seems a little on the small side, hugging around his golden biceps and riding skintight across the broadest set of shoulders you’ve ever seen on a man his size; a complete opposing parallel to the trimness of his waist. He’s like an inverted triangle.

A break in the tight denim jeans that wrap around his legs when you’ve spied him leaving the gym, freshly clean and dressed after a hard workout, and heading back into the office.

Package stuffed tight up in there, poor thing; the brilliant tightness restricting and choking around that hefty bulge all day.

It rides up a little over his tiny belly; a galaxy of dark hairs trailing down into his shorts that makes you lick your lips every time your eyes fall onto that hairy column.

His dark brown hair, slicked back slightly and curling on the nape, glistens with sweat, adding to his aura of intensity and focus. He exudes an effortless confidence as he moves from one exercise to the next.

The Latino-looking man focuses on a combination of strength training and cardio, showcasing his versatility and athleticism needed for the job he does.

And you find yourself enthralled in his routine, interrupting yours as you covertly watch him from behind the small desk trying not to flood it with your drool.

He usually starts with a set of heavy deadlifts; the sound of his puffs hissing through his teeth and reverberating through the gym as he lifts with perfect form.

Next, he moves on to explosive plyometric jumps. Clad in those tiny, satin shorts that hug his muscular thighs, his powerful legs propel him effortlessly into the air before landing with precision. You can’t help but watch as the muscles and cords in his thighs ripple with each slam of his soles on the floor.

Throughout his workout, he maintains a steely determination and laser-like focus with punishing chocolate eyes, pushing himself to the limit with each repetition; sweat glistening around his brow and temples and falling in tracks.

Despite the intensity of his workouts, there’s a relaxed confidence in his demeanour, reflected in the easy, fluid movements of his svelte body as he moves through the reps.

You watch his back move and shift, broad shoulder blades folding in and out as they flex under the snug fit of his fading t-shirt. His posture is upright and nonplussed, conveying a sense of self-assurance.

Standing at an average height, his frame is lean, yet powerful, and you can’t help but let your thoughts drift into murky territories as your eyes wander all over him and drink him up like a quenching soda on a sweltering day.

You know very little about him, only hearing his name muttered by the other agents as he addresses them pre-work, out or when they stop mid-way through to discuss, what you can only assume, is the cases they’re working on.

The dusty jukebox in the corner playing the current Billy Idol hit drowns them out somewhat at this distance.

He speaks with a soft, deep cadence; a gravelled grizzle wrapped around his pert lips, which is almost muted and out of full earshot.

But they call him Peña, or Javi as they sometimes greet him through lazy Spanish chit-chat.

He called you cariño once as he passed, mouthing a good morning to you with little effort.

But the one thing that's unmistakably loud and clear, is the grunting that pelts out of him.

Particularly when he does bench presses, or those barbell squats with the large weight resting on his shoulders. A deep, guttural grunt ruts out of him that sets your skin alight and makes your genitals want to break out the pompoms and start cheering his name doing high kicks.

They flow unabashed out of him as he pants and hisses. And you like it when he does those squats the most, watching as he parts his feet steady, and slowly lowers his pert ass down towards the floor, rendering those tiny shorts to almost disappear entirely into the rounded crack of his cheeks.

Fuck...

Javi focuses on his reflection in the mirror, lips curled back under that buoyant dark fluff lining his top lip, and teeth clenched in a snarl as he breathes out and grunts loudly with every push upwards from those strong thighs that tense and quiver.

As you observe him from across the gym, you can't ignore the undeniable attraction you feel towards him as it licks up your spine; it makes you clench and sweat just watching him and the fantastic sex-like faces he makes in the mirror.

His sculpted physique and rugged good looks are certainly appealing, but your eyes betray you and head further south at the constant movement inside his flimsy shorts.

Gaudy in their brightness, you see past them at the way they flout their thinness like they’re almost fucking see-through. You like the tease of how low they sit on his svelte hips. A simple tug and they’ll be round his ankles with ease.

You can make out the perfect outline of his heavy, flaccid cock hanging between his legs. Curves and ridges imprinted against the material like muscle memory. Flopping about so uncouthly as he moves like it’s battering you in the face.

Jesus fucking Christ.

With your task temporarily forgotten and brain slowly sluicing out of your ears, the sight of his cock outlining around the thin satin draws you in further. A third arm beckoning you in. Punching against the material with every movement from his hips as though you're mesmerised and drunk on the wildly pornographic view.

You’re pretty certain he’s not wearing any underwear, which is only confirmed by a fuzzy, pink sack peeping out at you some time later when he works on the bench, and draws his leg up.

You just want to push him back on the bench, naked from the waist down except for his faded white sneakers on, ribbed thick socks pulled up to his shins, and spread his legs wide.

You swallow dryly as you stare at it, and wonder instantly what it would taste like as you imagine running your mouth around its swell.

Tasting damp, matted pubic hairs sticking to your tongue, with a salted sweat and mixture of his own masculine musk on your tastebuds, and the more you ponder it, the more it makes your mouth water.

You want to slide your inquisitive tongue all over those sweaty, heavy balls of his and watch his cock throb and pulse before taking it deep into your throat.

A tight clench and a hiss. A pucker of a fluttering hole as you tease it with your tongue. Lips and hips bruised in unison.

Googly frog eyes stare out at him in wonder. A noise at the back of your throat registers, something inhuman between a gulp and a hiccup as he rises up again off the bench.

Humming and sighing audibly as he presents that ass out at you, shorts flapping around his cock lewdly in the mirror’s reflection as he squats again.

As you observe him from across the gym, you feel the pull of heavy want flooding your body in a stifling and suffocating heat. It makes your toes tingle and your heart thrum a bit harder. White noise steams inside your ears.

The dull, aching throb between your own legs makes you shift uncomfortably in the chair as you gulp and swallow at the spectacle.

With each lift of the weights and every drop of sweat that glistens on his brow and moustache, you find your mind sinking further into a perverted swamp of lust and unbridled thoughts running amok over your amygdala.

In your mind, Javi’s pushing you up against the mirror, face crushed against it, trailing bites down on the back of your slick neck like a dog in heat. Your breath fogging against the reflective sheet as he pins your wrists to it with his hands, leaving misty fingerprint smears on the polished glass.

You can taste the sweat on his top lip, fuzzy and damp, and it's damn delicious as he pushes his crotch into your ass. Hard and thick under those flimsy, lacquer-like shorts, leaking a patch of pre-cum soaking into them that blooms and darkens the silk.

His hands let go of your wrists and work their way down your arms, tickling gently and sending prickles to bubble and blister against your burning skin. He skims over your belly and hovers above your waistband; his hot breath inside your ears in gaspy, mouthed moans as he breathes out.

He whispers how much he wants you, how much he wants everyone to watch him fuck you up agasint this mirror, before he slips his nimble, thick fingers down inside the front of your shorts, grinding and rubbing himself against you.

He’s pulling down his satin shorts to let his hard, thick cock bounce out at you, pumping its uncut, rosy head inside his giant hand. Weeping and sticky, it shines at you as his fingers and thumb smear in the secretions, and you watch as he licks his fingers free of his own greased drippings.

You lick your lips ready for a taste as he guides the bulbous head towards your mouth as you sink, thudding to your knees. Feel him weighty and warm in your palm, squeezing just under the head and sliding the skin back to reveal that succulent bulb as you lick the tip and taste glassy bubbles flowing from him before swallowing him down deep.

Suck it, cariño, yeah like that… Tómalo todo. Trágatelo profundo. Si… aah, si. Fuck... (Take it all. Swallow it deep. Yes, aah yes.)

Lost in your thoughts, you barely notice when Javi actually glances in your direction; his dark eyes meeting yours briefly with a knitted brow and pink pout, before returning to his workout.

The brief exchange sends a thrill of wanton excitement coursing through your veins, igniting a spark of curiosity and anticipation that you can't ignore as it pulls tight between your legs and makes you pulse.

As the DEA agent finishes his workout and begins to gather his belongings - he carries a modest blue duffle bag, although never takes anything out of it's fullness - you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment at the thought of him leaving you so riled up for another day.

He grabs his worn water bottle and squeezes a stream of water into his mouth, swallowing deep and plentiful mouthfuls of the jet, and wipes at his lips with the back of his hand when some of it trickles down his smoothly shaved chin.

You watch him pick up the towel you’d laid out, wipe his face off and that onyx-like stare is in your direction again. Two pools of dark tar sucking you in.

A wet, slithery thought creeping in between your ears makes a mental note to take that towel when he's done and defile the fuck out of it.

He finds something in your eyes, perhaps something that excites him, or repulses him. You’re not sure. You’re yet to embark on any formal conversation beyond a simple greeting out of politeness.

As Javi makes his way towards you, passing the desk towards the showers, you're convinced you see a small smirk prick at the corners of his lips.

Another wanton thought bolts its way into the filthy pit of your mind. You see yourself rising up on the balls of your feet in the shower block and presenting your behind out to him and he bends you over further to touch your toes.

You feel his grip around your waist as he slides in and packs you out, stretching you around him. Knees buckling and being drowned by the spray from above as he fucks you hard against the cool, mildewed tiles in the shower block.

You feel like your spine will crack with the pressure, but you don’t care as he pulls you back, hammering up into you. Fingers grazing around your throat, teeth biting into the ball of your wet shoulder.

So fucking tight, just like I love it, baby...

You're gasping his name as your orgasm rips through you and he spills himself inside of your hole with Spanish expletives howling in your ear.

His thick, plentiful come seeps out of you; leaking, pouring. So much pumped into you as he grunts into your ear - shuddering with a high-octane thrill as his moustache tickles against your skin.

You’ll think about this again - about him - when you're at home later; that towel shoved between your legs and soaked with your own leakings.

You catch the hazy scent of Javi as he passes by the desk, subtly inhaling the stench of his sweat; an intoxicating, potent blend of musk and masculinity that leaves you feeling breathless.

A primal aroma that grabs you by the lapels to shake the cock-addled stupid out of you as you catch a glimpse of that package swaying and bobbing around in his tiny flaxen shorts to torment you further.

And once more you swallow around a constricted gulp as he meets your wandering gaze.

“Hasta la próxima vez, cariño.” (See you next time, honey.) He simply husks, as he tosses his duffle bag over his shoulder and struts towards the showers.

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this sweaty story. Please consider re-blogging so others can enjoy it too. Thankies! 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | JAVIER PEÑA MASTERLIST

[scarletsugars]

✨Run Rabbit✨

A/N: This idea literally came out of nowhere today, so I had to hurry and write it real quick! This idea is based off the song “Run, Rabbit Run!” by Flanagan and Allen. The song would not leave my head, and then I got this image of Joel chasing reader through an abandoned mansion. This one is a tad bit dark, but I hope you enjoy! If you liked this work, please think of reblogging and leaving me comments 🩷 Thank you to @ozarkthedog for being my beta 🥰

Summary: At the beginning of every month, you meet Joel to play a little game of hide and seek at the abandoned mansion near Jackson. It’s not just any game of hide and seek though. It’s dark and it’s twisted. If he catches you, he gets to do whatever he wants with you.

Pairing: Dom! Joel x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

Word Count: 4.1k

Tags: Possessive Joel, hide and seek, cat and mouse, Joel chases reader until he finds her, Jackson! Joel, outbreak! Joel, smut, fingering, oral, unprotected p in v, cream pie, dirty talk

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The air is suffocating, the black walls are covered in regret and years of cigarette stench. The dim lights seem to shine down on you like a spotlight as you run as fast as you can through the lavish house. You can hear him calling you, stalking you in the dark shadows like a starving dog hunting to devour fresh meat. 

   “Can’t run from me forever, darlin’. You keep on runnin’, but I’ll eventually find you,” he chuckles as his deep voice reverberates around the echoing halls. 

   You cover your mouth, keeping your body down as you run run run past the expensive statues and monumental paintings of the abandoned mansion. Your throat is on fire the longer you run, your body aching like that of a dying man on his last breath of life. Your legs feel like they’ll give way at any second, but you have to keep going. You can’t give up. Not yet. Not when he’s right on your tail. 

   Tired. You’re so very tired, yet you keep running. Dragging your hollow body down the vine covered corridors of the wide hallways as you gasp for fresh air in your watered down lungs. 

   You fly around a narrow corridor and nearly trip yourself on a bed of dark green vines that bite at your ankles, threatening to take you down as Joel draws closer to you. 

   You can feel his overbearing presence, can taste the whiskey that bleeds inside his thick veins, can feel his large body already crowding yours as if he’s already caught you. He hasn’t caught you yet, but you know he will. He always catches you. 

   This was all a game. A dark, twisted game that started on a cold night in December. You remember the first time he chased you, the first time he tore through all your clothes the minute he captured you and devoured your entirety on that pitch black night. Now, every first Saturday of each month you’d meet him back at this abandoned mansion to play his little game. He called it hide and seek, you called it a deadly game of cat and mouse because you were the mouse, and cats always caught their prey. 

   It’s like you two are stuck in a never ending dance, two souls completely consumed in the other as you spin in circles until one of you collapses. You shouldn’t keep coming back, shouldn’t want to play his dark little games, but yet you come. Every single time, you come, unable to face the reality of a month without his touch, his taste, his growls. You’d let the man do as he wanted because how could you resist those charming, big brown eyes? You couldn’t, you just couldn’t. You were a moth drawn to a flame, and he was the brightest, most dangerous flame of all. Something you wanted to forever be branded by.

   Joel Miller was a fucking menace of society, but he was your menace. So you’d continue the game until one of you stopped breathing. 

   “Where are you, little lamb?” he calls as your breath scorches the vine covered walls. You continue running, twisting around dark corners, running down stone steps, and hiding behind crimson curtains. 

   The next wooden door you come upon is locked tight. No amount of shaking the golden handle or hurling your body into the door will make it budge. You turn your head from side to side. The only way out is from the way you came. The hallway that he is in. Fuck. 

   You gulp down a silent breath and make a run for it, even though you know he’ll be there waiting like a prowling wolf. 

   You take careful steps down the marble hallway and sneak around the cold corner until you see his dark silhouette shining against the reflective flooring. You gasp as your eyes go wide, but before you can run he reaches out a long arm and clasps tightly to your wrist. 

   “There ya are, little lamb. Thought you’d get away from me this time?” he smirks as he wraps his calloused fingers tightly around you and tries to pull you in. 

   “Haven’t caught me just yet,” you laugh as you somehow manage to slip out of his grip and make a run for it. 

   You run down some slippery stone steps and end up at the back of the mansion with vine covered long corridors and twisting mazes of green bushes. You run as fast as you can as the wind sweeps through your long hair, letting the brisk wind set your adrenaline on fire. 

   You manage one glance back and see just how fast he’s creeping up on you. He’s like a lion running after a gazelle, the hunter about to attack the prey with its bare claws. And he will destroy his prey. 

   You take a few more steps, but then you feel a hand claw at your shoulder. He takes you down on the hard floor as you come crashing down to the pit of your doom. Pain radiates through your body, but you brush it off as you crawl forward, trying to escape the man that will take you as his own. 

   “Where do ya think you’re goin’, pretty thing?” he asks darkly as he wraps a hand around your ankle and tugs you in his direction. You hear a squeak escape your mouth like a trapped mouse that just got caught by a giant cat. 

   “I’m running away from you,” you answer back as you kick and try to squirm out of his reach. 

   He obviously has other plans because he drags you back underneath him and turns you flat on your back as he pins your hands above your head, his hips and large thighs caging you in so you can’t break free. He won this round, like he always did. 

   “Didn’t think I’d catch you so soon, little lamb,” he chuckles deeply as the weight of his body hangs over yours entirely. 

   “You just caught me off guard,” you sigh as you see his dark chocolate eyes honing in on yours. They’re so captivating, so damn pretty that you can’t look away. He’s so gorgeous even when you should find him intimidating. 

   “Now you’re mine,” he smirks as his chocolate eyes become darker, more blown out as he hovers his plush lips over yours. “Just what am I gonna do to you tonight, hmm?” he asks as lust fills the void of his dark eyes, making you squirm with anticipation already. You know what you want. You want him. 

   “Maybe I should be a little rough with you, hmm? That what you want?” he asks with the tick of his sculpted jaw, his thick eyebrow raising as he looks at you like he just won the most valuable prize in town. 

   You shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t be feeding his sick mind as he plays his dark games, but you can’t help it. You want it just as bad as he does. You want him to be rough with you. 

   You look at him with wide eyes and smirk right back at him, challenging his dominant side to give in. “So be rough with me,” you whisper back. 

   You see his dark eyes grow large with need as he huffs out through his nostrils. “Open,” he demands as he grabs a hold of your jaw and squeezes, just enough for your lips to part open slightly. He bends his head down and inhales deeply as he spits into your mouth as you feel the warm spit cover your tongue. 

   “Swallow,” he growls as you fully oblige. You close your mouth and swallow as you taste his spit slide down your throat. All hot and moist as you taste him in the back of your throat. And somehow you think it’s so goddamn hot. 

   “Good girl,” he praises as he shifts his weight down and starts unbuttoning your faded denim jeans. 

   “Now, you’re gonna be a good girl for me, right?” he asks as he starts to drag the denim down your legs, feeling a wave of slick slide down your lace panties as your adrenaline kicks in. 

   “Mhm,” you nod as you watch him strip your legs bare, next going to tear off your sticky pink t-shirt while he hovers over the fine lace of your bra, his calloused fingers circling your back as he slowly undoes the clasps. 

   “Gonna let me taste every inch of you, little lamb? Gonna let me fuck you till you can’t take anymore?” he asks as he undoes the last clap and slowly starts to slide the bra free, leaving your full breasts exposed to the chilly night air. The only thing left is your slick covered panties, and then you'll be completely bare. 

   “Yes,” you breathe as he cups your breasts and slides his tongue along the crook of your neck, all teeth and tongue as he nips and bites at your flesh. 

   You can’t help the burn, can’t help the absolute need that courses through your body as his weight encompasses your chest. His hot breath bleeds into your lungs and it’s as if you can breathe fresh air for the first time. His woodsy, whiskey scent makes you dizzy as he slides his wet tongue along your bottom lip as he hovers his weight above you. He’s like a wolf that comes to feed on you in the night, and you’ll gladly let him devour you whole. 

   He snakes his hand down your abdomen and slides his hand underneath your ruined panties as he presses his thumb in between your folds, collecting slick as you groan at the feel of him spreading you wide. 

   “Open up, darlin’. Wanna give you a taste,” he whispers. He slides his thumb in your mouth, and you press your tongue around it, tasting the sweet saltiness of your own arousal as you let it slide down your throat. 

   He opens his mouth and sucks the rest of the slick off as he moans at the taste of you in his system. “You taste so fuckin’ sweet, darlin’. Wanna just eat you up,” he groans as he hovers his lips back over yours, inching closer and closer until you’re practically begging him to drop down on your lips. 

   “Please,” you whine as your hands fist at his green flannel shirt, desperate for him to get closer to you. 

   “Please what?” he smirks as his dark eyes weigh into yours, pools of lust overflowing the edges as his pupils now expand into complete darkness. A predator about to eat his prey up entirely. 

   You have to use all your strength to get any words out, desperate for his touch. “Take me, all of me,” you plead as your eyes search his black pits that burn you alive. 

   “Oh, sweetheart. I’m gonna take it all,” he smirks. 

   Before you have time to respond, he drops his lips on yours and fists your hair as he tugs hard and pries your lips apart as he slots in his wet tongue. He glides his tongue against yours and circles your mouth as you moan against him and drink his whiskey breath down. 

   He breaks apart from your mouth and nips playfully down your neck as he kneads your breasts together. His tongue comes down to circle each nipple, bringing them to life as they harden and pebble for him as you writhe underneath him in pleasure. 

   His experienced hands are everywhere, burning your skin alive as he skates his calloused fingers up and down your glistening body that’s now caked in sweat. He shoves your legs apart and slides the lace down your legs as he sits back and examines your entire naked body that’s on full display just for him. Glistening skin and slick coated folds splay out in front of him, and he looks like a mad man the way he’s looking at you. 

   His nostrils flare as his eyes grow wide, the big black pits scavenging your body as he drags a hand through his thick salt-and-pepper scruff as he groans out a heated response. “Goddamn, little lamb. You’re so fuckin’ wet and ready for me. I can hardly stand it,” he moans as he slides between your legs and pushes your thighs apart, his calloused fingers spreading your folds apart as he spits down in between them and starts running meticulously up and down your open folds as he starts circling your clit slowly. 

   You moan and writhe underneath his fingers, but he just presses a big hand to your stomach and holds you still as he works his fingers up and down your soaked pussy. And it feels so good that you want to crawl out of your own skin as the flames alight in your lower regions. 

   “Fuck,” you moan as he licks a thick strip from your dripping hole all the way to the top of your clit as his nose brushes against the coarse hair that sits above your clit. He inhales a large whiff of you as he groans and wraps his arms around your thighs as he holds you down against the cool ground. 

   “That’s right, little lamb. Gonna have you screamin’ my name by the time I get done with you,” he chuckles darkly as he dives back in. 

   His tongue devours you as he slides it up and down, drawing tight circles around your throbbing bundle of nerves as he sucks you deep into his mouth. He glides his middle and ring finger into your dripping hole and works them in and out as he curls up and hits your spongy walls again and again as his tongue feasts on your clit and his fingers go knuckle deep into your pussy. 

   Your eyes start to roll back as your head hits the hard floor, your body feeling like it’s floating on a cloud as hot heat starts to slide down the base of your spine. Close, you’re so close. Almost there. 

   He growls up at you as he demands your attention right now. “LOOK AT ME,” his voice echoes off the vine covered walls as his dominance sheds through the dim light of the hallway. 

   Your eyes snap up to find blown out dark pupils looking up at you as he sucks you in his mouth expertly. His nail beds dig into your thighs as one of his fists sit knuckle deep in your pussy. You’ve never seen him so wild, so much like a starving wolf that it makes more slick slide down his fingers as he pumps in and out of your drenched walls. 

   He pops your bundle of nerves out of his mouth as he gives you one more long lick as he growls up at you with pure dominance in his words. “Come for me, little lamb. Want ya to scream my name, tell me just who’s makin’ you feel good. Come on, darlin’. Show me how you break,” he smirks as he quickens the pace of his fingers and drops back on your clit as he circles circles circles until you’re seeing stars in your vision. 

   “Joel, I’m gonna… gonna,” you whine as you feel your orgasm start to break apart. 

   “Go on. Come for me. Be a good girl now and obey,” he growls as he pulls you back into his mouth while his fingers press up into the spongy walls as you feel yourself coming hard for him. 

   You clench up around his fingers and feel slick start to rain down his fingers onto your thighs as you throw your head back and scream his name as your moans echo through the long, dim lit corridor. Your body feels like white noise washing through it as your toes curl and your fingers slide through his tousled curls. 

   He groans as your fingers dig into his scalp while he licks up every inch of spilt slick in between your thighs. You feel your high start to come down as you take nice, deep breaths and focus on the buzzing in your ears. 

   Joel sits on his knees and views the mess that he made in between your legs as you splay across the floor with your legs still wide open for him. He must enjoy the view because he can’t keep his hungry eyes off you. 

   “Such a good girl, you know that? Now, gonna let me take ya all the way? Gonna let me fuck ya now, sweetheart?” he smirks as he starts unbuttoning his green flannel shirt, undoing the buttons quickly as he slides it off his thick arms and throws it in a heap next to the vine covered wall. His rock hard abs sit glistening in the night light while a happy trail of dark, coarse hair sits just above the waist of his jeans in a v shape. It makes you want to get on your hands and knees and crawl to him as you beg to have just a little taste of him.

   “Yes, please. Fuck me,” you moan as you push your breasts together as your center feels on fire for him. 

   “Oh, I’m gonna fuck ya deep, little lamb,” he smirks as he knits his eyebrows together in concentration. 

   He unbuttons his dark jeans and threads the leather belt through his belt loops while he shoves his jeans and boxers down his legs while he stands and hovers over you with his hard cock hitting the base of his hairy stomach as the tip sits weeping and swollen, just waiting to get inside you. 

   You lick your lips together and stare at the swollen tip as saliva starts to coat your mouth. You can practically taste the salt on your tongue, can almost feel the precum sliding down your throat as you beg him for just one more taste. He looks so delicious, and you want to just eat him right up.

   He smirks down at you as he sees you staring at his thick cock that screams your name. “Want a taste, little lamb?” he smirks as you nod your head mindlessly. 

   “Get over here then and do somethin’ ‘bout it,” he demands as he pulls you up by your hair and plants you on your knees in front of his large body. 

   “Go on then. Let me see how good you can choke on this cock, darlin’.” He flashes his pearly whites at you and wraps his fingers around your hair as you take your hand and start sliding it up and down as you spread the precum all over his thick length. 

   You lick the tip lightly and swirl around slowly as you tease him while your hand works up and down the base of him. “Fuck, there ya go,” he groans as you take him inside your mouth as you taste salty goodness drip down your throat. You take him deeper as you choke on him, feeling the drool coat his cock as you go back and forth on him slowly. 

   He grabs tighter to your hair and starts to fuck up into your mouth as you feel him bottom out at the base of your throat as it constricts around his thick length. You choke and gag around his length as he deep throats you over and over again. Your vision blurs as the tears lick at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t care. You love when he chokes you out, when his cock is deep in your throat as you hear his stifled moans get caught in his throat the more your mouth deep throats him. 

  “Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel growls as his thrusts become rougher and deeper, enough to where you’re gagging on your own drool as it coats your mouth as he slips deeper inside. 

   Before you think you can’t take anymore, he releases his cock from your mouth as a bead of drool connects from his tip to your lower lip as you choke for air with his fingers still firmly wrapped around your hair. 

   “Good fuckin’ girl,” he praises as he releases you and shoves you back to the ground as your back his the cold floor. “Now spread those legs, sweetheart. Gonna fuck ya nice and deep now,” he instructs as he spreads your legs and gets down on his knees.  He throws your legs over his shoulders and lines his cock up with your folds as he slowly slides the tip up and down your folds as your spit on his cock collects with the messy slick in between your legs. 

   “Jus’ relax now, darlin’. Let me help fill this pretty pussy up,” he smiles as he shoves his cock through your folds and fills you up. 

   You gasp at the stretch, he’s so fucking big that you never quite get used to the stretch. There’s a tinge of pain, but mostly you’re so full of him that all you can focus on is how good he’s making you feel. He fucks up into you deeper as he bottoms out inside you over and over again. 

   His body hovers over you as his lips nip against your neck as he slides in and out of you faster faster faster as you start to feel wildlife burn through your whole body. He folds your legs in half like a pancake as he fucks deeper inside you, making your walls squeeze his large length tight as you get close to your second orgasm. 

   You study his appearance, focusing on his knit eyebrows that are sewn together in concentration as he loses himself in you entirely. Sweat sticks to his forehead as his curls stick together in the glistening sweat. His broad back is flexing and tightening around you as your nails claw his tan skin, making him moan into the shell of your ear as he licks against the edge of your ear with thick pants leaving his mouth. 

   You kiss along the edge of his jaw, nipping at his scruff as you moan his name eagerly into the base of his ear as he speeds up his thrusts, bottoming out again and again until you can’t take it anymore. 

   “Joel, I’m gonna… fuck, I’m gonna come,” you pant out as he presses his forehead against yours. 

   “Come for me, pretty girl. Let me feel ya,” he commands as he thrusts up inside once twice three more times until you’re squeezing his cock with your walls and pouring yourself all over him. You moan his name and scratch your nails down his back as he moans back in satisfaction. 

   “Oh, that’s a good girl,” he praises as he continues rutting up inside you until he’s choking for air with his own tongue. 

   “Christ, I’m gonna come. Fuck, I’m gonna…” He doesn’t take long till he’s shooting thick ropes of come inside your walls as you feel warmth bubbling all inside you. He takes a minute to let it all out, releasing all his spend inside you as you breathe in his whiskey coated scent. 

   “Fucking hell, sweetheart. Can’t get enough of that sweet pussy,” he groans as he pulls his cock out of you and lets his spend slide down your milky thighs. 

   He collapses onto his back and pulls you into his side as you wrap a leg around his waist and inch your head up to the crook of his neck as your arm wraps around his broad chest. 

   “Some game, huh?” you pant as your exhausted body splays over the entirety of him. 

   “Some game,” he agrees as he rakes his fingers through your messy hair and kisses the top of your forehead as you relax all your weight into him. 

   “Think there’s ever gonna be a day where you won’t catch me?” you ask curiously as he smiles down and shakes his head at you. 

   “No, sweetheart. I’m always gonna catch you. Even if I have to run a couple miles to get to you. I’ll always catch you, my pretty girl.”

   You smile as he pulls you tight against his body, and you spend the rest of the night just lying on the floor in the abandoned mansion where this all started in the first place. A twisted game that ended in two lovers running back to each other again and again. 

   Maybe some games aren’t meant to be played, but this one was specifically made for you and Joel. The cat and the mouse who started off running away from each other, but it ended with both of you falling apart together. 

Tagging some mutuals who might want to read🩷 @milla-frenchy @vividispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @jasminedragoon @morallyinept @mountainsandmayhem @dugiioh @pedrostories @syd-djarin @laurrrra @joelmillersblog @joelmillerisapunk @amyispxnk @msjarvis

[scarletsugars]

Tips for writing black characters

Day-to-day practical and minor stuff, specially regarding hair

If you have curly/afro hair then you are only going to need to wash it one or twice a week

But it can take a while. When I had long hair it used to take me 2h in the bathroom to properly wash it. That's why I only did it once a week. But it really will depend of the thickness and lenght of their hair.

It can be a little harder to find products for their hair, because straight/wavy hair products don't work on ours

If you wash curly hair many times a week it will eventually lose its nutrients, differently from straigh hair

If your character originally had curly hair but straightened it, it's probably going to look a little drier than naturally straight hair. it's a case-case scenario, though

If they have a skin care routine or want one they'll also need products made specifically for black skin

Your character is not immune to sunburns. It's harder to see if it gets red depending on how dark their skin is, but it's there. The more melanin they have, the more protected from the sun they are, but it's not gonna 100% prevent them from getting sunburnt.

Oh, and it can be pretty hard to dye it because first, if your hair is very dark, you have to decolor it, and depending on how black it is it can take a while and a few tries to get in a tone good for dying.

If they have long hair they're probably going to take a while combing it because you have to apply the hair cream lock by lock

They may have a haircare routine every month or so. Not everybody does it but if your character is disciplined and wants their hair to be extra healthy and neat they'll probably have one

If they care a lot about their appearence they'll probably have a lot of hair brushes of different types because depending on your brush you can comb it in a variety of ways, making your hair look fuller, making the curls look defined, etc.

[scarletsugars]

prompts from Ready, Set, Novel! A Writer's Workbook by Chris Baty, Lindsey Grant, and Tavia Stewart Streit from the National Novel Writing Month

Have each character retell their first memory.

Write your opening scene from the point of view of a supporting character.

Write a scene of dialogue between your main character and a younger version of themself.

Describe the worst thing that ever happened to your villain.

Flash forward twenty years into the future and write a scene that involves at least three of your characters.

Have your characters share tales of their first kisses.

Write about the last five things your main character bought and why they bought them.

Write a scene in which your protagonist and villain get drunk together.

Lock a few of your characters in a broken elevator.

People rarely get sick in novels. Have your protagonist come down with something.

Write a thank-you card from your protagonist to their sidekick.

Relate the dream your villain had last night.

Your protagonist's mother is interviewed for the local newspaper about her child's achievements. Write that article.

Add a scene in which your character loses something very valuable.

Write a week's worth of Facebook posts from a supporting character. Take it a step further and add comments made by their friends... and enemies.

Have your villain bust out their high school yearbook. Write some of the notes they find in it.

Have your character recount a (hilarious) childhood trauma.

Write a scene describing how your main character's parents met.

Does your main character collect anything? Maybe they should. Describe their collection and why they started it.

Write a really cheesy love song that your main character will sing to their love interest.

Describe the worst thing your main character ever did.

Write a scene in which your main character and the villain have to work together, and explain why.

Send your protagonist to a psychic. What do they find out?

Write a description of your setting in the style of a travel brochure.

Deprive a character of sleep for three days and write about how it affects them.

Read "Today's Featured Article" on Wikipedia and integrate something you learn into your novel.

Your main character finds a genie in a bottle. What three wishes do they make?

Place a few characters in a karaoke bar. Describe the scene and what songs they choose to sing.

Have a character win a huge prize out of the blue. How do they react when they get the news?

Your villain houses a dinner party. What's on the menu? Who is invited?

Write a 200-word newspaper obituary for your villain.

[scarletsugars]

tips for setting the scene

it’s easy to get caught up in dialogue or a character’s internal dialogue and forget altogether that they, too, exist in their own physical world. as authors, it’s primarily our job to convey the exact amount of information: the reader is on a need to know basis, but they also need to know enough to draw their own conclusions. i’ll admit, it’s a difficult task, but here are some tips to help set a scene:

- imagine the world from the eyes of your character: how do they see things? do they see the big picture first or are they drawn to smaller details that others don’t often notice? what’s pulling their attention away from the action or their own thoughts?

- breathe life into your scenes: i don’t mean the english teacher’s equivalent of “the curtains were blue means that the character is sad.” i’m talking about the blue filter in Twilight that conveys the “constant cover of clouds and rain” and the shift from the Arizona desert to the cool Pacific Northwest. think about all the small details that convey information about a scene and allow the readers to make inferences. if the character walks along a street and the yards shift from overgrown hedges with frayed yard chairs and a birdbath containing a mini swamp to yards with freshly cut grass with white picket fences and ornate wreathes hanging on the doors, you’re providing all of the details for readers to make an inference. context is needed, too, but that will be provided in the whole of your novel or short story. don’t be afraid to provide details and use figurative language.

- spread out your details: did you feel bombarded in the last tip? i provided a lot of details quickly, all at once, without spreading them between action, dialogue, or internal dialogue. i’m not going to stop you from being the next J.R.R. Tolkien if that’s how you like to write, but try not to overwhelm the reader with details all at once. it will feel more natural if you spread things out and allow the reader to feel as if they, too, are with the character in their environment. this is more of a stylistic tip, so take it with a grain of salt and think about what will work best for your novel. always go back to that and to what your character is seeing. how is this all playing out for them? how can you put feeling into the scene?

- place your characters within the scene: where are they in their environment? how are they interacting with the people or objects in it? what do they think about these things? you don’t need to tell the reader everything your character does, but provide enough information so that we don’t get lost in their movement or stagnation. it helps to have someone else read your work if you’re struggling with this part. if they’re lost as to where the character is or what they’re doing, chances are a good portion of your readers will be confused, too. check out your prepositions. are there too many? too few? use them, but don’t abuse them.

happy writing! if you need help setting a scene or have any questions, our ask box is always open!

[scarletsugars]

How To Write And Create A Subplot

A subplot is an essential aspect of any book. It helps drive your story forward and hook your readers in with a compelling narrative. A good subplot raises the stakes for the main character by introducing side characters, creating plot twists, adding another dimension to the story or revealing information from the past or future. 

However, if executed incorrectly subplots can overshadow your main plot and deviate from the heart of your story. Unsure how to create and execute a subplot? Here are some helpful tips to get you started! 

Why Are Subplots Important? 

A subplot is a narrative thread that supports the elements of your main plot. They often build conflict or shed light on a secondary character’s story. Subplots help you create multilevel narrative arcs and build complexity and depth. 

Your readers certainly don’t need to know what your antagonists were doing while the protagonist underwent secluded training, but adding this subplot builds tension, heightens the stakes and easily portrays personality traits and character flaws. This is especially true for genres such as SFF or horror where your characters often don’t know their enemy’s plan until the last moment. 

Subplots are often what make your readers connect with your characters and world-building. To put it simply, if Harry Potter was written without any subplots Rowling could have wrapped up the entire series in one book. 

Types Of Subplots 

It’s important for authors to branch out and implement more than one subplot in their manuscript. Sticking to one subplot can often result in a poor portrayal of an important moment or make an interesting arc fall flat. A simple way to avoid this is by combining different subplots when working on your manuscript. 

Mirror Subplots

Mirror subplots are essentially a subplot that mirrors what your protagonist or antagonist is going through in order to illuminate their personality traits and how they dealt with said situation. A great example of a mirror subplot would be Sophie and Agatha’s dynamics during the first book of A School For Good and Evil. 

Sophie and Agatha both start off with essentially the same introduction to characters like Tedros, the faculty, their roommates, etc. but while Sophie uses a negative outlook to harm those around her Agatha focuses more on a problem-solving approach. 

Contrasting Subplot 

A contrasting subplot is when a smaller character faces the same situation as your protagonist/antagonist but handles the situation differently. For example, a protagonist allowed themselves to be injured in order to safely evacuate a nearby citizen but an antagonist in a similar position used the civilian to shield themselves from the attack. 

Contrasting subplots cannot exist unless both characters undergo the same situation, which is why it is important to plan this subplot out before executing it. 

Complicating Subplot 

Complicating subplots are the most common subplot used in literature. They’re pretty self-explanatory and involve a secondary character creating complications for the protagonist. This can be as simple as your love interest’s sister spreading gossip about the protagonist, or as complicated as a grand political scheme created to turn the protagonist’s allies against them. 

Romantic Subplot 

Romantic subplots are often confused with romance written as a subgenre. The difference between the two is simple—a book with romance as a subgenre simply includes romantic themes, however, a romantic subplot uses romance to deviate from the main plot. 

For example, if your protagonist left their usual environment to attend an event with your love interest for a couple of chapters, that counts as a romantic subplot. However, a character simply having a romantic moment does not constitute as a subplot. 

Things To Keep In Mind When Creating A Subplot 

Now that I’ve divulged all of the facts associated with writing a subplot, here are some personal tips writers should take into consideration when creating a subplot. 

A Subplot Is NOT Its Own Story 

This is an important factor many writers often forget when creating a subplot. Subplots are meant to tie into the main plot and move the story forward. They are supposed to be an arc in your story, not a story of their own. 

Subplots are a great way to foreshadow events, drop hints, reveal character traits, etc. however, you need to consider whether or not your manuscript needs to have these characters. Your deuteragonist’s tragic past with the antagonist might make for a good story, but you could probably summarise those events within one chapter. 

The same can be said for past love interests, ex-friends, training arcs and backstory arcs for minor characters. These factors would all propel your plot forward, however, incorrectly implementing them can ruin your reader’s immersion and deviate from the actual plot. 

If you’re unsure whether or not your subplot should be included in your novel, take the time to consider these few questions: 

Does your subplot help your protagonist accomplish their main goal? Or does it drastically deviate them from their initial purpose? 

Does this subplot introduce a new character, a new side to an old character, or the ‘true’ version of a seemingly good/bad character? 

Would your character be unable to attain their long-term goal without this subplot? 

Would your world-building, character development, or a certain aspect of the main plot feel confusing if not for this subplot? 

If your answer to these was yes, then you probably have a valid subplot on your hands. If not, then you should genuinely consider questions and take into account why you want to include this subplot, to begin with. If your answer is something along the lines of ‘it has so and so scene/dynamic which I really enjoyed or think the readers will like’ then your manuscript would probably do better without that subplot. 

Create Conclusive Arcs 

Unlike your main plot, subplots are supposed to have a start and finish. They need to have a complete arc and some semblance of a conclusion. 

For example, if you were writing a contrasting subplot where the side character decided to abandon another character in order to save themselves, you need to consider what happens once you write out this scene. How do the other characters react to it? Does this impact your side character’s position in the story? And most importantly, how does this impact the rest of your plot? 

You need to know where you’re going to go with your story once you have concluded your subplot, and figure out a way to tie your subplot into your main plot. 

I hope this blog on how to create and execute a sub plot will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and marketing tools for authors every Monday and Thursday. 

[scarletsugars]

A very detailed character biography to help build characters. I found the original template HERE and edited it to make it more suitable for the characters I'm creating, and also to add some more details, such as a mental illness checklist section to use for myself to reference (because it helps to know what's wrong with your characters) and other details. You may not need so many minor details for a character, but you never know if you'll end up needing an explanation for something. I'll be using this template myself so I figured I'd share it in case it could help others too. I have edited it to better suit my own medieval fantasy characters, so I'm not sure how well it will work with other genres. Enjoy. ♡

☆Trigger Warning - Sensitive Mental Health Topics☆

Character 1

• Character’s full name:

• Reason or meaning of name:

• Character’s nickname:

• Reason for nickname:

• Character’s titles & what they mean:

• Birth date/season:

Physical appearance

• Age:

• Appears how old:

• Race:

• Gender:

• Weight:

• Height:

• Body build:

• Shape of face:

• Eye color:

• Skin tone:

• Distinguishing marks:

• Predominant features:

• Hair color:

• Hair type:

• Usual hairstyle:

• Voice:

• Overall 1-10 attractiveness scale:

• Physical disabilities:

• Usual fashion:

• Favorite outfit:

• Jewelry or accessories:

• Tattoos:

• Miscellaneous:

Personality

• Good personality traits:

• Bad personality traits:

• Most common mood:

• Sense of humor:

• Greatest joy in life & why:

• Greatest fear & why:

• What event would be most devastating & why:

• Most comfortable when:

• Most uncomfortable when:

• Most angry/furious when:

• Most depressed/sad when:

• Most happy/joyful when:

• Priorities:

• Life philosophy:

• Biggest wish & why:

• Character’s soft spot:

• Is this soft spot obvious to others or common:

• Political views:

• Greatest strength:

• Greatest weakness:

• Greatest vulnerability:

• Biggest regret:

• Minor regret:

• Biggest accomplishment:

• Minor accomplishment:

• Most embarrassing event & why:

• Character’s darkest secret, if any:

• Does anyone else know this secret:

• Miscellaneous:

Goals & Dreams

• Drives/Motivations:

• Immediate goals:

• Long term goals:

• How to accomplish the goals:

• How others will be affected if the goals are achieved:

• How long has character had the goals:

• Goals that character thinks are hard to achieve:

• Goals that character thinks are easy to achieve:

• Goals that character has already started working on & how long:

• Dreams:

• Miscellaneous:

Past

• Location of birth/childhood:

• Socioeconomic status:

• Cultural traditions:

• Parents Socioeconomic ranking:

• Parents involvement:

• Type of childhood:

• Siblings/other family involvement:

• Friends/Acquaintances:

• First memory:

• Most important memory & why:

• Childhood hero:

• Pets:

• Dream job:

• Education:

• Religion:

• Wealth/inheritances:

• Miscellaneous:

Present

• Current location:

• Currently living with:

• Type of residence & who owns it:

• Possessions/Owned assets:

• Weapons owned:

• Socioeconomic ranking & how it was achieved:

• Cultural traditions/practices:

• Religion:

• Sexual orientation:

• Occupation:

• Wealth:

• Acquaintances/Friends/Lovers:

• Pets:

• Miscellaneous:

Family

• Mother:

▪︎Alive or Deceased:

▪︎Relationship with her:

• Father:

▪︎Alive or Deceased:

▪︎Relationship with him:

• Siblings:

▪︎Alive or Deceased:

▪︎Relationship with them:

• Spouse:

▪︎Alive or Deceased:

▪︎Relationship with him/her:

• Children:

▪︎Alive or Deceased:

▪︎Relationship with them:

• Other important family members:

▪︎Alive or Deceased:

▪︎Relationship with them:

Favorites

• Color:

• Food:

• Form of entertainment:

• Story/Myth/Legend:

• Mode of transportation:

• Most prized possession:

• Location/place:

• Season/weather:

• Miscellaneous:

Habits & Activities

• Hobbies:

• Training:

• Magical/special abilities:

• How he/she would spend a rainy day:

• Spending habits:

• Smokes tobacco:

• Drinks:

• Drugs/herbs:

• Activity does too much of:

• Activity does too little of:

• Extremely skilled at:

• Slightly skilled at:

• Extremely unskilled/terrible at:

• Nervous tics:

• Usual body posture:

• Mannerisms:

• Peculiarities:

• Places visited for fun/interest:

• Miscellaneous habits:

• Miscellaneous activities:

Traits & Flaws

• Optimist or pessimist:

• Introvert or extrovert:

• Daredevil or cautious:

• Logical or emotional:

• Disorderly/Messy or Methodical/Neat:

• Prefers working or relaxing:

• Confident or unsure:

• Easy to anger:

• Easily pleased:

• Manipulative:

• Apologetic:

• Accepting of advice:

• Easily bored:

• Mentally/Emotionally strong:

• Accountability:

• Ambitious:

• Work ethic:

• Demanding & bossy:

• Submissive & subordinate:

• Playful or boring:

• Brave or cowardly:

• Chases power/success/glory:

• Protective of loved ones:

• Doubts themselves or others:

• Talkative or quiet:

Mental Illnesses

• Trauma & why/who/what/when:

• Addictions:

• Depression:

• Anxiety:

• Paranoia:

• Hallucinations:

• Personality disorder:

• PTSD:

• Obsessive compulsive:

• Bipolar:

• Stable:

• Triggers:

• Miscellaneous:

Self-perception

• Feelings about himself/herself:

• One word the character would use to describe self:

• One paragraph description of how the character would describe self:

• Character considers their best personality trait:

• Character considers their worst personality trait:

• Character considers their best physical characteristic:

• Character considers their worst physical characteristic:

• Character thinks others perceive them:

• Character's aspect they would change about themself:

• Miscellaneous:

Relationships with others

• Opinion of people in general:

• Does the character hide opinions/emotions from others:

• Most hated/Biggest enemy & why:

• Most loved & why:

• Best friend(s):

• Love interest(s):

• Who to go to for advice:

• Who they're responsible for/Who they take care of:

• Who character feels shy or awkward around:

• Who character openly admires:

• Who character secretly admires:

• Most important in character’s life before story starts:

• Most important after story starts:  

• Opinion of relationships with family:

• Opinion of relationships with lovers:

• Opinion of relationships with friends:

• Treats strangers:

• Treats authority figures:

• Opinions of authority figures:

• Treats subordinates:

• Opinions of subordinates:

• Treats the opposite gender:

• Opinions of the opposite gender:

• Treats other races/cultures:

• Opinions of other races/cultures:

• Treats children:

• Opinions of children:

• Treats others with different tastes/interests/activities:

• Opinions of others with different tastes/interests/activities:

• How they treat others who admire them:

• How they treat others who love them:

• How they treat others who betray/harm/bully them:

• How they treat others who disrespect/harm others:

• How they react when someone needs their help:

• How they react when someone tries to help them:

• How they react to sexual/romantic advances:

• Opinions of sex & brothels:

• Miscellaneous:

[scarletsugars]

how to write relatable characters

writing relatable characters may seem like an easy task, especially when you’re constructing your protagonist. but what if you want to make your antagonist likeable? what if you want people to hate your protagonist but still root for them? all of this and more requires that your characters be relatable. they need to feel real, so how do you do that? here’s how:

- flaws: this is probably obvious. everyone has flaws, so we should give our characters flaws, too. this applies even if your character is non-human; they cannot escape the personification that we as writers or readers project onto them. we are humans reading, so we expect to see human qualities everywhere we look. if you’re having trouble of identifying your character’s flaws, here are some prompts for ways to think about flaws beyond a list:

what skills do they lack? what do they struggle with?

can their strengths be turned against them as a weakness?

what makes them react emotionally or impulsively?

are they aware of their flaws? if so, do they want to improve them or change them?

- quirks: these are what make your character unique or special, and no, i don’t mean purple eyes or unique physical traits. i mean: what makes your character authentically themselves? what traits define them that few others have? some ways to think about this are:

how do they react when nervous? do they have a tell? similarly, how do they react on behalf of any emotion?

what skills do they have that hardly anyone else has?

what obscure thing are they obsessed with?

do they have a unique outlook on life compared to their peers?

- values: these come from life experiences: where we were raised, our family and friends, our community, religious affiliations, etc. i suggest identifying eight to ten values that define your character and then narrowing that list down to five values that mark their core or essence. think about how these values influence their choices, decisions, and ultimately, the plot of the novel. here are some more prompts to think about values:

how do they react when their values are challenged? are they one to speak up or do they sit back in the shadows?

what, if anything, will change or shatter their values?

are their actual values misaligned with their believed values?

- stakes: what is at risk for your character? what is motivating them? stakes don’t need to be over the top or life or death; they can be as simple as maintaining a relationship or reaching a goal. unless there’s an outside influence (ie. percy’s mother being kidnapped in The Lightning Thief), most stakes—especially those relatable—tie back to values. even those influenced by outside factors can tie back to values: the only reason percy is motivated to get his mother back is because he cares for her and she is the one person who has always advocated for him and cared for him. he values family and riordan uses his family to motivate him and incite the plot. generally, there will be one overarching stake for your character, but throughout your novel, there should be several smaller stakes. these may not service the plot but should elaborate on your character nonetheless. some ways to think about stakes include:

how can i use internal or external factors to create convincing, relatable stakes that tie back to basic values?

why does the overarching stake matter to my character? why do they care?

how can i raise the stakes or introduce new ones that are relevant to my character and illustrate them as a relatable being?

- connection: even if your character is an introvert, they will still be connected to someone, something, or even an idea. we, as humans, look to certain people, pets, objects, and ideas to maintain our sense of reality whether we realize it or not. if your character prides themselves in having no attachments, think about the ideas or themes that mark the cornerstones of their reality. most human beings strive for some form of connection, so here are more prompts for thinking about your characters and connection:

what does connection mean to my character? how do they show how they value their connections or relationships?

how does my character’s behavior change when around different connections?

what connections define my character and their reality? how will these connections influence my character and/or the plot?

how will removing or challenging a connection change, influence, or motivate my character?

a good rule of thumb is to treat a character as a human, not a plot device. there is a time or place in which a character must act as a plot device, but if you’re wanting your readers to be compelled by your narration and the characters within them, you should strive to write your characters as human (aka as relatable). one of the greatest pleasures i find in writing is when other’s identify themselves in my writing.

you’re not just here to tell a story, you’re here to connect with others through the illustration of your characters. let the reader navigate your prose as a detective, to search for and identify the evidence provided by you. that is to say, show us how these things manifest in your character. don’t tell us.

happy writing! hopefully this post gave you some ways to start thinking about how to show the relatability of your character. if you have any questions about implementing these tools or about writing characters, our ask box is always open.

[scarletsugars]

Some quick tips for writing sexual tension in your novel:

1. Establish strong chemistry: Develop the characters' attraction to each other through meaningful interactions, shared interests, or a deep emotional connection. Their chemistry will lay the foundation for the sexual tension to build upon.

2. Use body language and non-verbal cues: Describe subtle gestures, lingering glances, or the way their bodies react in each other's presence. These non-verbal cues can heighten the tension and create a sense of anticipation.

3. Utilize dialogue: Employ flirty banter, double entendres, or suggestive remarks to create verbal sparring between characters. Clever wordplay can add layers of subtext and amplify the sexual tension.

4. Slow down the pace: Build tension by slowing down the pacing of scenes involving the characters. Emphasize their awareness of each other, the anticipation of physical contact, and the longing that grows with every passing moment.

5. Explore internal thoughts and desires: Give readers insight into the characters' internal dialogue, their secret desires, and the fantasies they have about each other. This adds depth and intensifies the sexual tension.

6. Employ the power of touch: Describe the impact of a brief brush of hands, accidental contact, or the lingering sensation left by a gentle touch. These tactile sensations can evoke a heightened sense of awareness and anticipation.

7. Create obstacles and conflicts: Introduce obstacles or conflicts that prevent the characters from acting upon their desires. These challenges can fuel the sexual tension, making the eventual release even more satisfying for both the characters and the readers.

8. Use sensory details: Engage the readers' senses by describing scents, sounds, or textures associated with the characters' proximity or potential intimacy. Sensory details can intensify the atmosphere and enhance the readers' experience of the sexual tension.

9. Play with power dynamics: Explore power dynamics between characters, such as a power imbalance or a push-pull dynamic. This can create a magnetic pull and increase the sexual tension as the characters navigate their desires and boundaries.

10. Employ the element of surprise: Introduce unexpected moments or situations that catch the characters off guard and heighten the sexual tension. These surprises can lead to spontaneous or forbidden encounters, increasing the anticipation and desire.

Remember to balance the sexual tension with the overall tone and genre of your novel, ensuring it aligns with your intended audience and fits organically within the story. With these tips, you'll be able to craft captivating scenes that sizzle with sexual tension, leaving readers eagerly turning the pages for more.

Happy writing!

[scarletsugars]

my fave romance prompts

back hugs

forehead to forehead

never yells

KISSING IN THE RAIN

neck kisses

kisses ur scars

*holds your waist all the time*

LOTS OF SEXUAL TENSION

waking up to them cooking breakfast for you

"my love"

would take a bullet/arrow for you (will voluntarily use their body as shield)

trains you hand to hand combat/self defense

eye contact w/ sexual tension

takes you to their favorite secret place/spot (and they have never shown it to anyone before aside from u)

*towers over u*

borrowing their clothes !!

sexual tension to the point where u see their hormones coming out

plays with ur hair / massages ur head until u fall asleep

kissing ur hand

them being the one to put on the necklace they gave u

leans in for a small kiss, pulls away, and then turning into a full blown make out session

*will carry you if you're injured*

SHARING ONE BED

subtle touches w/ sexual tension

comforts you with your night terrors/nightmares

takes care of u if have fever/sickness

confesses their love while you're asleep

"let's fix this"

did i mention sexual tension?

[scarletsugars]

PEDRO PASCAL as JOEL MILLER The Last of Us - "Long, Long Time"

[scarletsugars]

oh to see his smile again

[scarletsugars]

Pedro Pascal as Javier Peña Narcos S01E02

[scarletsugars]

18+ mdni

Older Joel Miller would be the type to hold you by the back of the neck and tilt your head down to make you watch while he fucked you. 

A heavy hand keeps you trapped while fingers prod at the sensitive tendons under your skin, forcing you to watch every devastating thrust as he buries his cock between your soaked folds. 

“Look how wet you’re gettin’.” He’d brazenly drawl while eyeing your messy thighs and the syrupy slick that stains a creamy ring around his girth. He’d grind your pelvis, torturing your clit with the damp, wiry hairs that litter the base of his cock. “Suckin’ me right in.”

He’d hook his free hand under your jaw, content with your submission when your eyes go glossy and dumb, and tip your ragdoll head until he’s penetrating your soul with a hooded, possessive stare.

“Got you right where I want you.” He’d mock as a dark smirk tugs at his lips. His ominous tone slithers around your heart, and it makes your cunt anxiously clench. “You’re gonna be achin’ for days.”

[scarletsugars]

yeah, I know.

[scarletsugars]

I love him 😭

[scarletsugars]

elucidate [javier peña x f!reader]

summary: Javier Peña, your regular office hook up, is a little tense lately, and you know the perfect way to help him blow off some steam. ratings/warnings: E [CNC, soft!Javi, mean!Javi, like 90% smut, feelings, fluff, degradation (javi uses whore, slut, etc toward reader), roleplay, forced orgasms, overstimulation, mirror sex, spanking, reader is referred to as "soft and round" but no specifications of where or what, size kink if you squint, male masturbation, the tiniest bit of assplay, Javi will not shut the fuck up, i think that's it, lemme know if I missed something egregious] wc: ~4.7k a/n: please go to @ezrasbirdie-updates to be notified of updates! smooches to @haylzcyon for her guidance on the ending, and to @mothandpidgeon for betaing the final product, and to both for making me feel better about actually posting it. i haven't written javi p in YEARS so ya know. also i'm still a little sick, so i'm just yeeting this and hoping y'all like it.

masterlist | javier peña masterlist

~

You wouldn’t offer this to just anyone.

Javier Peña, though—he isn’t just anyone. And this isn’t just any fantasy. This is the type of thing that takes trust and understanding between both of you. Most of the men you’ve been with are hardly trustworthy or understanding.

But Javi’s proved himself and you want to reward him. And, you think, he might even benefit from it. Relish in it, even. He always comes to you for things he can’t get from anyone else, even when it takes a little coaxing. 

“Have you ever thought of taking what you wanted?” You ask him late one night. He balances an ashtray on his belly, skin still shiny with exertion as he inhales his customary after-sex cigarette. You don’t smoke, but you keep them around for him. 

He frowns at you, exhaling slowly. 

“What do you mean?”

“From me,” you nudge. You’re not sure if he’s playing dumb or really can’t fathom the idea of it, but it takes a few moments for him to respond. 

“Why would I wanna do that?” He asks. 

You shrug, not wanting to put words into his mouth. 

You’re not an informant, not even a girl he met in a bar, just a lucky administrative assistant he took a liking to. This, you think, holds him back. The fact that he sees you every day keeps him in check. He was exceptionally gentle with you in the beginning, and while you appreciated the tenderness you’d had your own little celebration the day he finally fucked you so hard you felt him the next day.

Now you drool at the thought of him letting go completely; of pounding into you relentlessly, tirelessly, angrily. Let him take out all that frustration, all that endless disappointment, all that rage; let him take it out on something warm and wet whether you want it or not.

But God, do you want it. 

The conversation ends there with a kiss on your forehead after he shimmies himself back into his sinfully tight jeans. 

“Stay safe,” he says, and then he’s gone. 

**

Javi knows what you meant. 

He’s just ashamed at how interesting he found it; how quickly the blood rushed to his cock at the thought of you squirming underneath him, pinned down by his strength. He could do it easily—you’re soft and round but not very strong. He thought immediately of his hand on your neck, taunts dripping from his tongue as you struggle to free yourself. 

It makes him fucking sick. 

Javi avoids you for a while, steers clear of your side of the office, stays away from the cafeteria and the after-work bars he knows you’ll be in. You try to corner him once, but he runs, feigning a meeting with the ambassador and glancing back just once to see your puzzled face. 

He knows he has to talk to you sooner or later. You wouldn’t be the first woman he’s walked away from after the pressure got to be a little too much, but you’re not any woman. You’re you. 

Fuck. 

And you asked him. 

It bothers him. Do you really think he’d be capable of that? 

He shifts in bed, kicking the blanket off of him and letting the humid air hit his body, completely bare save for a pair of boxers that are quickly becoming too tight. 

Not again.

He groans, disgusted with himself as he closes his eyes and imagines you, for the millionth time, on your knees, hands tied behind your back and his cock fucking your throat as you just fucking take it. Forced to all fours so he can fuck you from behind with the brutal pace, ignoring any protests and taking what’s his.

If he did it, you’d be his. He’d own your pussy.

Javier stays out of relationships for plenty of reasons, and one is that he’s learned over the years he has no intention of letting go of what’s his. This life he’s chosen has no room for that kind of devotion.

You weren’t supposed to happen. 

His hand drifts down his chest casually enough that he can tell himself he brushed his cock by coincidence and just couldn’t help it. He hasn’t seen you in weeks, hadn’t had need to see any informants, just him and his hand and the vision of your tits bouncing in that big mirror in your bedroom as he pounds into you and calls you names he’d never dream of outside of this. 

Slut. 

Whore.

Cocksleeve.

Mine.

Javier comes with embarrassing speed. He won’t be pounding a goddamn thing if he doesn’t get that shit under control. 

Cleaning himself up, he glances at his phone and sighs. First he needs to make sure you still want anything to do with him, but he wants to talk about it, too. He wants to know why you want it, if you’ll really enjoy it, if he can make it good for you. 

You pick up after the second ring, and he breathes out at your soft greeting.

**

You frantically clean your apartment as best you can in the fifteen minutes it takes Javi to get there and hope he doesn’t mind your pajamas.

Hiding your nerves is not an easy task. You have no idea what to expect—is he here to break it off completely? Is he angry? Does he hate you?

But no, those big brown eyes don’t betray anything but remorse and curiosity when you open the door for him. He wets his lips and looks you up and down. “Can we talk?”

And of course you can; that’s all you’ve wanted for weeks, for him to even acknowledge your existence. You grab a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, but he waves it off as he pulls his leather jacket off. 

He’s never refused a drink before.  

You take a seat at your breakfast table and wait. He runs his hands through his hair, jaw ticking as he paces around the kitchen. It takes him too long to speak; long enough that you open your mouth to break him out of this reverie, but he interrupts. 

“You asked me if I wanted something the last time we were together,” he says, lighting up a cigarette. “I wanna make sure you want that.”

You cock your head at him, lips quirked into a smile. “Wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t.”

“I wanna…I want to. And I don’t know if I’m supposed to want that,” he says, running his finger over his mustache. “Wouldn't that hurt you if I did those things?”

You giggle. Big bad Javier Peña, worried about fucking you too hard. “That’s part of the fun,” you say. “I always want it a little rougher. And I know you wouldn't go too far.”

“How do you know, though?” He asks, his bottom lip pushed out and eyes wide—it’s his serious face, his listen-to-me face, but right now he just looks scared. 

“Because you don’t have that in you, Javi,” you tell him. Something loosens in him and that wrinkle between his eyebrows smoothes out. “I don’t just offer this to everyone.”

Javi nods and inhales, lapsing into silence. Now it’s your turn to ask a question. 

“Why didn’t you ask me before? You ignored me for two weeks,” you say, trying to keep your voice level and the desperation far away. 

“Got scared,” he says, chewing his thumbnail.

“Don’t do that again,” you murmur. “Please.”

“I won’t,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

**

He brings it up himself a few weeks later. Things are rough at work—you can see it in his eyes. He’s quieter than usual, quick to irritate and just as quick to apologize with his tongue or his cock, but one day he just can’t take it anymore. 

“I need to forget, sweetheart,” he purrs in your ear, and you don’t need to ask him what that means. After picking a safe word and informing him of a couple of “absolutely nots,” you tell him to wait ten minutes and come into your bedroom. 

The scene is simple—you’re an uncooperative informant, and he’s a man running out of time. It’s your request, but Javi’d pressed you up against the wall and ground his hips into yours when you asked for it. 

“Bad girl,” he’d murmured. Not only is it something you’d been dreaming about with him since the day you met, it’s easy for him to role play. Javi is a lot of things, but overly imaginative is not one of them. 

You’re already damp thinking about what he’ll do. 

The only light is a stark, bare bulb on your bedside table, the lampshade removed for a more interrogation room-like atmosphere. You sit in a chair dragged in from your breakfast table and adjust your already low-cut neckline. There’s a knock at your bedroom door, but he opens it and strides in before you can even answer. 

He’s holding himself differently. 

You’ve only seen him in Agent Peña mode a few times, usually on the way to dragging sicarios into the basement for questioning. Once you ended up in an elevator with him and Murphy and a baby-faced twenty-something who leered at your office skirt and pantyhose. Javi’d placed himself between the two of you. 

“Don’t look at her,” he’d growled, and that was before you’d even kissed. He’d puffed himself up big, shoulders back and wide as he’d stared that kid down until he’d turned away from you completely.

That’s the Javi that’s barged into your bedroom. 

“I hear we have a problem,” he says, sliding right into it. You’d expected some giggles, maybe some huffing on his end, but no. 

“What’s the problem?” You ask. “Why am I here?”

“You tell me. I pay you for information and they tell me you’re holding out. You know something,” he says softly. He keeps it vague, so you follow his lead. No need to bring anything real into it. 

“I don’t know shit. Told you everything,” you say, crossing your legs and folding your arms over your chest. He takes one menacing step closer. If you didn’t know him, he’d seem completely cool, but Javi has his tells. Shallow breath, mouth slightly parted as he approaches you with pupils so dilated his dark brown eyes turn black—he’s already holding himself back.

“I think,” he starts, wetting his lips with that soft, pink tongue, “you’re hiding something. I think you need to be searched just in case.” Arousal floods through you as he pulls you up by your arm and turns the chair around. “Take your clothes off.”

“No,” you argue. “You can’t make me.”

He pulls you flush against him, ignoring your attempts to get away. His cock is bulging in his jeans already, hard and warm against your core. 

“You take them off or I will. Your choice,” he growls in your ear as he pushes you back and folds his arms. “Move it.”

You scowl at him, pulling your shirt over your head.

“Bra, too.”

“Pervert,” you snarl, and he smirks. His cock grows thicker and longer in those obscenely tight pants as you pull off your skirt and panties, but he stops you before you peel off your lacy thigh highs. 

“Leave ‘em,” he grunts. 

Javi explores you as though it’s the first time he’s seen your body, kneading your breasts and pinching your nipples hard enough to make you gasp. His eyes flick up at the sound, and for a moment your Javi’s there, checking in. You say nothing, and he moves on. 

“Got a nice body,” he murmurs. “So fucking pretty. You letting those assholes touch you like this?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“No what?” He snaps.

“No, sir.”

“But you’re letting me touch you, hm? Not putting up any fight at all,” he says, sliding his hand down your belly until he reaches your pussy and groaning. “Fuck, you’re all wet, bonita.”

You nod, biting your lip. 

“If you just tell me what I need to know, I can make this good for you. If you don’t…” He trails off, his middle finger finding your clit and tracing light circles before he gives it a soft pinch. 

“I told you, I don’t know shit, sir,” you spit. He pulls his hand back and shoves his fingers in your mouth without warning. You taste yourself mixed with nicotine and the salt of his skin, and you try not to moan. 

“Bend over the fucking chair,” he snaps, pulling his fingers out of you. “Spread your legs. See what you're hiding in that little cunt.”

The word is a pleasant surprise—he’s never called it that before. It makes you tingle all over, pussy throbbing at his crudeness. Javi talks dirty, but it’s always soft, always sweet praise delivered in that rough, gravelly voice. 

This is different, but it’s good. 

You do as he says. 

Your reflection stares back at you; he’d somehow slyly repositioned you and the chair in front of your full-length mirror. You can see the way his eyes darken and his jaw tightens at the sight of your open, waiting pussy. “Fuck me. Look at that,” he says. A hand connects with your ass, the loud crack and your squeal filling the bedroom. 

“You little slut,” he murmurs. “You like this? You want more?”

“No!” You whine, and a smack lands on your other cheek. 

“I think,” he says, slapping you again, “you’re a naughty little girl who needs to get her little pussy fucked. I think that’s why you’re being such a brat.” He leans down to your ear, meeting your eyes in the mirror and adds in a whisper, “I think you heard from all the other girls how good Agent Peña’s cock is and you got jealous. Wanted to see for yourself. All you had to do was ask nicely, sweetheart. Now you’ll take what I give you, hm?”

You shake your head, eyes glued to the mirror where he's unzipping his tight jeans and finally freeing his cock. As your mouth waters for it, you cry out “No, no! I don’t know anything—”

He spanks you again, and this time you can almost feel the outline of a handprint. 

“Shut up,” he grunts as he moves in front of you and shoves his cock in your face. “Open up. Now.”

You should struggle a little more—you always like that part—but Javi’s cock in your mouth is one of your favorite things in the world. He doesn’t give you a minute to adjust, doesn’t even try to get you to suck him off properly, he’s just moving his hips, fucking your mouth like you’re a toy. 

“Fuck that’s a hot mouth,” he groans, chuckling at your garbled whimpers. “Taking it so good.”

You preen at this praise, swallowing his cock even as tears start to sting your eyes. Javi slows when he opens his eyes and sees the tracks on the side of your face. He wipes them away, his softness for you forcing its way through despite it all. Javi pulls out of your mouth and brings you up to eye level, rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks.

“Okay?” He murmurs. 

“Fine, baby.”

There’s the smallest relief inside of you, a sort of tension you hadn’t even noticed releasing as he makes it clear he won’t get too lost in this. 

It only makes you want it more. 

“This what you do to all your informants?” You ask, goading him. “Go on a power trip? Force girls to fuck you?”

He grins.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, slipping back into character as he lines himself up behind you. “I think you know we both want this. You can deny it all you want, but that messy little pussy says otherwise.” He swipes his thick finger through your soaked lips, a long ribbon of slick trailing from you as he brings it to his mouth and groans.

“Hear that?” He asks, sliding his spit-soaked finger inside of you. Your cunt sucks him in, squelching as a second finger joins a moment later. “She just keeps getting wetter. Coulda made this good for you, bebita. Should have just asked. Now you watch while I fuck you, just like you wanted.”

He pushes himself inside of you, the entirety of his thick length sheathed all at once, just on the right side of uncomfortable, and he sets a brutal pace.

Thank God you’re wetter than you’ve ever been. All you can do is hold on as he jackhammers into you, using your pussy for his pleasure while you stare heavy-lidded at his face in the mirror. He’s magnificent, corded neck muscles flexing as he moves, lean biceps flexing with each snap of his hips. 

Every so often he opens his eyes and meets yours in the mirror, hungry desire etched into his gaze. He squeezes your hips, kneading the soft parts of you with alternating gentle caresses and bruising grips, completely lost in pleasure.

What exactly would he let you get away with?

You sneak your fingers to your pussy, finding your aching, neglected clit and rubbing, a soft whine falling from your lips after a few slow circles. He’s still somewhere else until that noise breaks through his concentration. 

“You—little—whore—” he snarls, and it makes you gush.

He pulls out and tosses you on the bed like you weigh nothing, crawling over you with his teeth bared. He’s so scary and beautiful and you want more more more. “Think you deserve to come? After being a little brat? Doing all that just to get my attention and my cock isn’t enough, you need to come, too?”

“No, I—”

He pulls your arms over your head, trapping both wrists in his big hand and holding you down with his body weight. “Fine, you greedy little slut, you can come, but you don’t get to stop until I say so.”

The first is fast—Javi is skilled and patient, but you’re so worked up it hardly takes anything. The second is the same; still sensitive, still needy, your body reaches bliss with just a few easy strokes. The third takes longer, but he pulls it from you, taunting you as the tears roll down your cheeks.

“Don’t cry,” he orders, his free hand spanking you hard on your hip. “You can take it. You want this, remember?” He teases, an edge of cruelty in his tone that makes your back arch and toes curl into the sheets.

By the fifth orgasm, though, your body is begging for mercy. You’re soaked in sweat, whining as he moves between your legs to lick up all the come and force another out of you. Your hips cant up against your will at the press of his tongue and he holds you down.

“Nonononono,” you whine. “Javi, I can’t—” 

“You can take it,” he says again, dismissing your soft whimpers.

 Your safe word dances on the tip of your tongue, but now you want to see. You want to know if he’s right; if you can take another afterall, even if your thighs ache from being spread so wide for so long. The only noise you make is a soft whine as he presses his fingers into you again and he laps at your sensitive clit. 

“One more,” he murmurs into you. “One more.” 

His voice is gentle now, even if his lip is curled into a sneer. He replaces his tongue with his thumb and starts to talk.

“I know you want this. Probably won’t even be enough to satisfy you, will it? Whores don’t get satisfied that easy, do they? I bet this little hole’ll be begging for more even after all this. Poor thing. Unless you want me to fill up both of them. Maybe that’ll help, if you get your little asshole fucked, too.”

Your eyes fly open at the feeling of a finger brushing gently against your asshole, not enough to push inside but enough to light your nerve endings on fire. “Oh, fuck, Javi—”

He chuckles as you tighten around him again, your whole body shaking with this one. “Good,” he laughs. “Good girl.”

You’re spent, wrung out as he licks his fingers clean. His angry, weeping cock bobs in front of him as he pulls you up and manhandles you onto all fours. The mirror reveals what a mess you are—smeared lipstick, runny mascara, smudged eyeliner. 

“Fuck you’re pretty,” he murmurs. He dips his head between your legs and spreads your ass cheeks, groaning at the sight like he didn’t just have his face down there two minutes ago. “Oh, baby, you’re a fucking mess. You ready for my cock? Hm?”

“No!” You say, half-heartedly struggling underneath him. “I can’t, Javi.”

His eyes darken and you, despite coming six times, feel a tingle in your lower belly as he drapes himself over you. You squirm hard enough to make him hold you down, somehow gushing even more at his body weight settling over you. 

“You’re gonna be a good little cockhungry slut for me, and you’re gonna take this—” He shoves himself inside of you again, groaning hard and loud. You’re so much more relaxed now, looser from everything, but it still stretches deliciously. “And you’re gonna watch me fuck you until I come all over that pretty ass, yeah?”

You don’t answer, just blink dazedly at him until he spanks you. “Yeah?” He asks, leaning forward to grab your chin and force you to look at him. 

“Yeah,” you breathe. 

“Yeah what?” He snarls.

“Yes, sir.”

That sets him on that brutal pace, every thrust moving you closer to the edge of the bed as he mutters filth behind you, talking more to himself than you at this point. You watch him in the mirror again, not quite sure where he’s gone. He’s all sharp teeth and shimmering skin, nothing but the snap of his hips and the sound of your soaking cunt filling the room as you gaze at him. 

Javi slips out of you just before he comes, his spend splashing hot all over the cleft of your ass as he pulls you up to his chest and presses his fingers into your mouth, writhing against you. 

He gives one last throaty moan, and with his last thrust he whimpers your name and takes his fingers out of your mouth. It’s a soft noise, like whoever he’d expelled whatever his body with his release. You clutch his hand and smile at the sound—that was, of course, exactly what you’d set out to do.

“Mine,” he murmurs into your neck. It makes all the little hairs on your body stand on end and your heart feels like a flower in bloom. “All mine.”

Javi shakes his head as he regains all his senses, but you’re completely blissed out as he rolls you over and his eyes soften when you smile at him. 

“Hi,” you murmur, head still floating in the clouds. He sits up against the headboard and beckons you, and you crawl to him on shaky limbs. 

“Bebita,” he sighs, pulling you into his lap. You wrap your legs around him and lay your head on his shoulder with a contented hum. “You okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

He holds you there, rocking you back and forth and pressing kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, even the tip of your nose. “Did so good. My good, sweet girl. Made me feel so good. Let me clean you up, hm?”

Everything glows with a soft haze as he guides you into the bathroom and leans you up against the counter and pulls your thigh highs off, kissing you again and pressing his forehead to yours. “Stay here,” he murmurs. 

After he turns the bathtub on and finds the right temperature, he disappears for a moment, returning with a tall glass of water that you gulp down without taking a breath. 

“Good girl,” he says as he pulls you to the bath. 

You don’t take many baths in this tub—there’s never really enough time to enjoy them—but you might need to rectify that. It’s deep and wide, big enough that he could shimmy in behind you if he’d like. 

It’s like he’s read your mind, stepping out of the skin-tight jeans he’s still wearing—covered in your juices, you notice— and tapping you to scoot forward. 

“No underwear?” You tease, speaking for the first time. He seems almost bashful about it. All that, and he’s shy about going commando? 

“Not much room,” he admits. 

“How is that comfortable? Doesn’t the denim rub on your junk?”

“Now you’re just being a brat again,” he says as he settles around you, long legs hugging your sides. He plants his chin on your shoulder and huffs. “How’re you feeling?”

Javi’s full of all kinds of surprises tonight. He’s certainly never asked you that. Not that there’d been much occasion to, and you’re only a casual thing, but it’s nice that he cares. 

“Feel good. A little sore, but I like it.”

“I didn’t hurt you?”

“No more than I’d asked for,” you giggle, but he doesn’t laugh. You clear your throat. “No, Javi. You didn’t. You couldn’t.”

His body relaxes against you, melting into your sore muscles. He kneads at your shoulders and neck, cupping your breasts as he finds his way to your wrists. “Gimme your little puff thing,” he says. “And put that stuff that smells good on it.”

“It’s called a loofah,” you laugh as you drizzle the body wash over it. He grunts acknowledgment and scrubs you gently, murmuring comfort when he reaches your core and you hiss at how tender everything is. 

“I know, baby. So sensitive, I know,” he coos. 

Javi’s always sweet to you in the brusque way of his, but this is like he really cares for you. 

“Gonna stay over, if that’s okay,” he says, and you turn sharply. He’s never, ever stayed the night. 

“Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine,” he laughs. “Just wouldn’t feel right leaving you after that.”

“You’re sweet, Javier Peña.”

You slosh around in the water for a while, rubbing his legs and nuzzling against him for a while until he pulls you out and dries you off. In bed he curls his body around you and settles his chin on your shoulder, and as your eyes close, you realize you’re not the only vulnerable one here tonight.

**

“Did you see Agent Peña today?” Marla asks.

“Yes! He walked in smiling,” Valentina asks in a conspiratorial stage whisper. You say nothing, trying to keep your own smile internal. They’re much too loud, and there’s no way he can’t hear them even twenty feet away.

“Do you think he met someone?” Marla asks as she files her nails. “If I was ten years younger.” 

“You mean thirty,” Valentina teases, and Marla dismisses her with a wave of her hand. “I think I’d have a chance if he paid us any attention over here.”

Javier’s eyes flick up in their direction, smirking as he and Murphy discuss whatever it is they discuss over their morning coffee and bourbon. 

“Do you know anything about it, darling?” Marla asks, and you shake your head. 

“Nope,” you lie, as if he hadn’t fucked you within an inch of your life last night. “Not a thing. Maybe he’s just in a good mood.”

“He’s never in a good mood,” Valentina argues. “That’s what makes him all brooding and sexy.”

You can feel Javi’s eyes on you. “I don’t get the fuss,” you say, a mischievous smile spreading across your face. “He’s handsome but he’s not that handsome.”

The two women look scandalized, but Javi stands with his hands on his hips across the room, eyes glued to you. An almost imperceptible jerk of his head toward the hallway sends blood rushing to your cheeks. 

You wait a respectable amount of time after he leaves before excusing yourself, finding Javier in the deserted hallway leaning on the wall with his arms crossed. “Don’t get the fuss, huh?” He grins. 

“Nope,” you say. “Not into the dark, brooding thing. I like it much better when you smile.”

Javi leans close and presses his lips to your forehead. “Me too, bonita. I like it better, too.”

~

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