#dbf javier pena

[merz-8]

istg I'd be such a good wife to my favorite dilf. house? clean. food? ready. cock? sucked

[umadosedepascal]

Quickie with Pedro

Sound On!

Ft. @missyorkswhore

It’s been months you don’t see each other, Pedro is very busy with work so are you.

With just one sassy message telling that he misses you so much, is a reason to meet him in the middle of the day at his hotel room for a quickie…

Pedro wants to taste you and get you ready for him. He loves to worship on you, holding your legs tight pulling you closer.

- No fingers this time, babe…

He knows how you like it and rub his sexy nose over your clit licking your lips up and down moaning every second, he makes you cry with pleasure when you get to the edge cumming on his mouth.

You open your eyes and see him rubbing into the bed, rocking hard, ready to fill you up..

-Hi…

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓥𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓸 𝓰𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼

Dads best friend!Javier Peña x afab!reader

Summary: For years he’d lived in your head like a distant memory. Something too good, too far away to attain. You shouldn’t be so hurt he’d left his old life behind, but how could you not be, when you had been such a big part of it? But you can’t hold a grudge. Not when he’s standing in front of you– doing everything to prove he’s not a stranger.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, dads best friend trope, morally questionable relationship, minor angst, chunky age gap [reader is in her 20s Javi is in his 40s], banter, lotsa sweet moments, explicit language, explicit sexual content, couch sex, inebriated sex, cigarette and weed smoking, alcohol, dom!javi, sub!reader, pet names [cariño, baby, babygirl etc.], dirty talk, major praise kink! [lotsa good girl action iykwim] some over the clothes action, grinding, fingering, unprotected P in V [ do better!!]. Let me know if I missed anything!! <;3

Word count: 12.8k oops

A/N: Oof this took longer than I thought it would but I’m so excited for you to read it. Javier is the man of my dreams here 🥺. lotsa porn for you nasties. morally questionable relationship fr but it’s fiction so we’ll forgive Javi. I hope you darlings enjoy! Mwah 💗

Masterlist

Swinging in the backyard

Pull up in your fast car

Whistling my name

Open up a beer

And you say, "Get over here

And play a video game"

The last time you saw him you remember all but tackling him to the ground as he walked through your front door. He had bought you a special edition copy of your favourite Hans Christian Anderson fairy tale, and DVDs of ‘film noir’ movies– the kind your dad didn’t like you watching. You spent the days reading as he smoked cigars by your pool, and you remember your father joking about his ‘bad influence’ as he poured you drinks in the evenings. 

That was several years ago, and now all you had left of him was a hazy memory of that distant summer, a fading image of his golden eyes glittering in the setting sun, and your copy of “The Little Mermaid”. That had been the last that he’d visited you– before his work got in the way, before he decided he’d rather stay in Bogotá than come home. 

Your life had gone on, and while every year you wondered whether he’d make his grand appearance, as you grew older you came to terms with the realisation that it would just be you and your old man lounging on the patio on those treasured, warm, golden evenings. At university you were pursuing those dreams you always wanted to, the ones your father wasn’t so keen on you chasing, the ones you’d confess to him when he would drive you around the city–  to that faraway ice cream place no one else would take you to. 

He was all cigarettes and whiskey and secret promises.

“He’ll literally kill us, it's midnight.” It was too late, he was grabbing his keys and jacket, and despite your better judgement the thought of the fairy lights by the beach as you walked with your mint chocolate chip cones had you giggling as you followed him out the door. It was your 18th birthday. “He doesn’t need to know now, does he, cariño?” 

He’d telephone your father once in a while, you knew because your house would fill with laughter only invoked by one culprit. You wondered what adventures he was on, were they like the ones he’d tell you as you sat by his side till the early hours of the morning? You wondered if he even remembered– remembered you. 

But now you were in Bogotá, in the sweltering June heat, suitcase in hand, scanning the crowd for a face you barely remembered. You were scared, stupidly so, worried that your physical proximity would do nothing to mend his distance. You worried he wouldn't see you as he did before, wouldn't remember your inside jokes, your mischief, how you’d beg him to take you to that dance bar because your dad didn’t like you going alone. That he had somehow morphed into someone you couldn't recognize. You felt hot all over once again, and this time no thanks to the summer sun. 

Your head turned left to right, and you spotted among the crowd families reuniting, couples kissing hello, young people returning home, lone travellers, lonely travellers, and in the hustle bustle a black leather jacket walking briskly towards you. He looked older, and tired, but his eyes still sparkled the way you remembered, still turned golden when they met the sun. From the distance he spotted you, and you watched expectantly as his furrowed brows relaxed into a calm, almost surprised expression. You felt a little short of breath, felt suddenly larger than life, as he neared you, your mind spinning and hoping, praying that he was still the man you knew. 

“What have you done with my cariño?” 

He was looking down at you with that same smile. Everything about him was really the same. He still smelt like tobacco and cedarwood perfume, still wore the same leather jacket, the same faded, button up shirt– with the first two buttons undone. In a moment you felt your mind's eye reconstruct those waning images of him you once cherished, from the dells of memory. And now you saw him vividly, reclining in his chair, sipping his whiskey, leaning on your porch, hair falling in his face in soft curls as he lit his cigarette. 

He was a lot more handsome than you recalled. 

“Hi” You were smiling so wide your face hurt, and despite the years of his absence there was a familiarity you found comfort in, a sense of belonging, and maybe naively… longing. His hands moved to grab you by the shoulders, and he stepped back to get a good look at you, almost examining how time had passed. “Lookat’ ya, university girl now huh, smart cookie?” The way he looked at you had your heart pitter pattering– with so much pride, and gentleness, and adoration. 

Without any hesitation he pulled you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms, holding your head against him. Waves of calm washed over you, an immediate reassurance you were desperate for. It was his non reluctance, his lack of worry, the way he brought you into his arms like nothing else mattered.  With a heavy sigh you collapsed into him, all the uneasiness you felt before melting away as you melted into his touch. He felt warm, and strong, and like you’d remembered. 

He was everything you’d remembered. 

You felt yourself relax. It had been a long day, a long time getting away from your father, who, despite the fact that you had been living alone for years now, had called you about a thousand times – reminding you to take all your things, to be careful, and importantly to not get into any trouble. 

If there was one thing everyone knew about Javier, it was that he was trouble, trouble, trouble. 

He was still smiling when he gently pulled away, still looking at you with the same enthusiasm. He was happy to see you. He chuckled as he let go of your shoulders, and you felt your chest swarm with butterflies when he grabbed you by the hand and twirled you around, and in typical Javier fashion produced a white lily from his shirt pocket, and tucked it behind your ear. 

“Welcome to Bogotá cariño” 

You felt your cheeks heat. For as long as you could remember you pretty much idolised him, and the longer you didn’t see him the more distant and adored he had become.  You had worked that distant memory up so much, the memory of that fateful summer, that he’d come to be a symbol of fear and dread in your head. At least until that moment.

You felt silly for ever thinking he’d be different. And there he was, standing right in front of you, putting flowers behind your ear. You mumbled a soft thank you, securing the lily, which was inadvertently an excuse not to meet his overwhelming gaze. 

“Your old man give you a hard time on the way up?”  

You laughed as you rolled your eyes. If there was one person who knew how much of a stickler for organisation and responsibility your father was, it was him. “He gave me an entire list of things to not do”. Javier’s deep baritone joined your laughter, and he shook his head in faux irritation at the mention of his best friend. 

Reaching down for your bags he leaned beside your ear, and you felt your heart race when you turned your head ever so slightly to meet his gaze– at that glimmer in his eyes, his mischievous smile, and raised brow. 

“Well, he’s no fun now, is he?” 

And with that he was heading towards the exit. 

—

I'm in his favourite sundress

Watchin' me get undressed

Take that body downtown

I say, "You the bestest"

Lean in for a big kiss

Put his favourite perfume on

Go play your video game

“He says I'm like you, y’know?” You leaned your elbow on the open window, knees to your chest as you sat curled up in the passenger seat of his car. His eyes were on the road, but his attention remained on you, and you were instantaneously reminded of your trips to the pier, your mint chocolate chip ice creams, and innocent secrets. 

You felt warm and fuzzy inside, and your eyes wandered the beautiful Colombian city –the colours, and the smell of summer flowers, and food as it wafted out of the mom and pop restaurants you passed. 

“Yeah, you a troublemaker?” He glanced at you momentarily, just in time to catch you rolling your eyes. “”M not, but he thinks Dora’s wreckless for wandering around without her parents.`` His laugh was hearty and he had that smile, that tilt of his head you were sure had all the women around him swooning. You felt your cheeks heat at the thought, especially when he chided you. “Cariño” he dragged out every syllable of that treasured pet name, shaking his head, and raising his brows in your direction, teasingly. “Okay.. maybe I like to have a little fun, but I’m still not like you.” 

Letting out an exaggerated gasp his head whipped towards you. “Fuck’s that supposed to mean?!” Your head was buzzing, he's still the same, the same. 

“I’m good.” He rounded the corner, and you couldn’t help but wonder who else had been in the passenger side of his car, getting this view you so cherished. You didn’t know why you cared, or why you were even wondering in the first place. It wasn’t any of your business, but somewhere deep down it made your heart ache. 

“I know you are honey.. Thought your dad was gonna’ have a fuckin’ heart attack when he called me.” You could only imagine. The poor man. The thought of him persuading Javier to convince you to stay with him for the sake of his peace of mind making you giggle. 

“Can you blame him? It was either you or Maria, and somehow you're the better of the two evils.” When you decided to come to Bogotá you originally planned to stay with one of your  close friends from university. She had offered you a room in her apartment for as long as you needed. The both of you had applied for the same summer program, and were looking forward to spending your vacation together. That was before you confessed that a certain somebody also lived in Bogotá. A somebody you weren’t initially keen on meeting again. Somebody you had planned to avoid at any cost during your stay. 

You weren’t really sure why– if you wanted to keep him away out of spite, or convenience, or fear, but all you did know was that when Maria had practically forced you to ask your dad to give Javier a call you were nothing short of petrified. She would not let it go, even said you’d regret not meeting him, better yet staying with him after how much you’d talked him up in the time you knew her. She was so confident she placed a bet you’d give up her house for his in less than forty eight hours. 

“I’m a cop, I’m the obvious choice here cariño” His confidence was charming. He was deceptively charming. 

“Yeah. A terrible one.” 

“Was a little shocked you wanted to see me..” sometimes you really thought he could read your mind. Not just in that moment, in fact he had a habit of hitting on right whatever you were thinking about, whatever was bothering you, things you felt you couldn’t tell anyone else because they wouldn’t understand. You were not sure if and how you wanted to respond, and if you did honestly whether he would know how much the whole situation had preoccupied you. 

“Strictly practical. Wanted to see if you remembered me..” 

“‘Course I remember you, been haunting me like a little ghost since I last visited..”. you thought you might just explode at his teasing. You asked yourself if he was being truthful, if he truly thought about you, about how he’d up and left. 

“You’re the one that disappeared into thin air!” Undeniably, despite the laughter and banter there was a tension in the air– floating between the two of you heavy and low. But what was he expecting?  

Thankfully, the car came to a slow and gradual stop at the side of a small side street, where you spotted a small glass door over which flowers blooming from the floor above had been cascading. “Where are we?” 

“Mint chocolate chip”  One hand on the wheel, the other grabbing his keys, he looked at you as he spoke, so matter of factly it made your heart flutter. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “No pier, or fairy lights though, and no thrill of running from your papa.” 

He remembered. 

Heart bursting with love ache, you weren’t really sure what to say. As if he had anticipated your fears he seemed like he was coaxing you into your natural rhythm. Reminding you he wasn’t some stranger whose house you were staying in out of convenience. That you knew him, and that he knew you, remembered you. 

“Thank god for the last one..” The memory fluttered between you two– the same thoughts, hovering between your heads. He was opening the door, taking a quick check of the traffic. You stayed put, finding your bearings. With one hand extended he beckoned you towards him, offering his arm when you hopped out the car on wobbly feet.  “Oh hush, you loved it, cariño. And he knew, I told him the next day.”

With locked arms you crossed the street, and as if no time had passed you had squished yourself to his side, and had smacked him against the shoulder lightly at his admission. “What?! Traitor!” 

“I handled it.” He sounded quite impressed with himself, and when you tilted your head and locked eyes with him you noticed how he looked quite impressed as well. You pressed your cheek against his arm, the leather of his jacket brushing against your warm cheeks.

“You were always the fun one.”

A large ‘OPEN’ sign stared you blank in the face, that was until Javier had gently tucked a finger under your chin, and delicately directed your eyes towards him. “He’s your dad, ‘s not supposed to be the fun one..” he softly remarked, his smile remained, and you felt nothing but warmth, and comfort from his presence. 

The moment fell naturally, and he reached forward to pull the door open for you, letting skip ahead of him and into the store.  “Feels like my 18th all over again.” 

—

It's you, it's you, it's all for you

Everything I do

I tell you all the time

Heaven is a place on earth with you

Tell me all the things you wanna do

I heard that you like the bad girls

Honey, is that true?

“You're the boss Peña, give me the word, and it’s done.” You caught Javier’s reflection in the mirror as you sat down to get ready. Fresh out the shower it took about three seconds for the summer heat to get back at you. He liked to keep his place freezing, and at times like that you could only be grateful– the cool air soothing your scorched skin. 

Carillo, Murphy– you could recognize the voices as they bounced off the wall, the same men you’d met when they barged into his home unceremoniously at six in the morning. You would have preferred to meet them in actual clothes rather than your pyjamas, and maybe outside instead of infront of your concerningly large cup of coffee, but they seemed to be used to finding unexpected guests in Javier’s apartment early in the morning. 

Regardless of the fact that they’d interrupted your quiet breakfast with Javier, they were really nice people. Carillo’s wife even sent some snacks over with him the next time he visited. One because she wanted you to try the local food, and two because “Javier had nothing in his kitchen.” 

“I will. soon as that dick Stechner gets out of my fuckin’ way” reaching to put you necklace on you watched as Javier moved out of your field of vision for a quick moment, returning with a glass filled with ice and an ashtray. What were they talking about? You never really asked about his job, you'd tried to talk him out of it many times, but he never budged. One day he hated it, one day he didn’t. 

What he was like at work was a point of endless curiosity for you– he just seemed so different. If you were being honest he seemed like an asshole. In the few times you’d seen him interact with his partners he’d barely cracked a smile, trading in his joking and teasing for curt jabs or looks of disapproval. He also admittedly liked ordering people around, telling them what to do. His phone rang about five thousand times a day, and each answered call was punctuated with an air of control, indifference, and the steady and constant confidence of a man who knew what the hell he was doing. And did not like to be questioned about it. The only people who seemed to break the ice were the two he was speaking to at that moment. 

“Javi, think this one through, don’t be fuckin crazy.” The voices drowned out as you put your attention back to getting ready. Maria was right. By the time you called her the evening of your arrival you had abandoned all plans to escape Javier's home for hers. She was in hysterics, endlessly pulling your leg over the whole situation. Your overthinking, your panic, your regret, and most obviously your complete infatuation. 

She had picked you up the next morning, and had impersonated you the entire ride to the university. You hoped that you didn’t sound the way she said you did when you spoke of him, that you weren’t all heart eyes. It only made you worried about what you sounded like when you spoke to him. 

With your bag tucked under your arm you grabbed your shoes off the floor, heading towards the dining table. “You got work this evening?” you were hoping he didn’t. His eyes lifted off his work to watch you shuffle around the small kitchen.  Opening the fridge you grabbed a bottle of chilled water, and leaned against the closed door as you spoke. 

“Depends if they call me in, they’re tracking some radio signals so we’re sitting tight till then.” He was leaning back in his chair in absolute exhaustion. Knowing that his day started around seven thirty, and never seemed to end, you didn't blame him. The few days you had been staying at his place he’d join you for dinner and be right back to work in a second. This job of his pretty much consumed him, and judging by his commitment you understood why he had no time for anyone or anything else. The guy was practically married to his job. His job and his co-workers, that is. You wouldn’t be surprised if Murphy and Carillo’s wives were envious of how much quality time Javier got to spend with their husbands. 

“So you’re staying up until they get back to you?” You didn't mean to sound so perplexed, but you were. Mostly at how unpredictable his hours were. Did he really want to leave the quiet, laid back life at home for whatever this was? He crossed his arms over his chest, and spoke to you in between puffs of his cigarette. 

“Yes, cariño, I'm in my forties, dont got a bedtime.”  The man could barely keep his eyes open, and when he lifted his glass to his lips you felt a little better about ditching him for your fun night out. Of course you wanted to sit with him, have him talk about everything under the sun, like he used to, but you didn’t want to be another thing he had to worry about. 

You barely got to speak to him outside meal times. If he stayed home, safe to say he’d be preoccupied, and if he didn’t it would be just you, and the white noise in his empty apartment, like it had been for the past four nights you had been there. 

The man looked like he needed a cup of tea. You reached for the kettle, pushing it on and leaning against the closed fridge door. “They tell you that at the old people's home?” Grabbing your buzzing phone off the counter you moved towards his surprisingly organised kitchen drawers, in which there was little besides some tea bags, coffee beans, jam, canned fruits and bars of candy. That combined with the eggs, bread and milk in his fridge came to make an almost comical representation of what most people would consider a bachelor's desolate pantry. 

Your eyes shifted to the illuminated screen of your phone, an unread message staring back at you. 

Maria: Leaving in five &lt;3

As you took the bubbling kettle off the burner you made a mental note, reaching for a cup, and a tea bag from the unopened box of earl grey you were pretty certain Javier did not buy for himself, rather became the owner of thanks to one of the nice old ladies who lived opposite him. 

“Somones in a mood today huh?” It was then you realised he had abandoned his work to watch you trudge around his kitchen barefoot in your little party outfit, one hand rested on his chin, one leg crossed over the other as he leant back in his wooden dining table chair. 

The teabag bobbed in the steaming water a couple of times, before you were pulling it out and tossing it in the trash. You grabbed his blue mug by the handle– some generic, machine made ceramic devoid of any personality, something you’d probably find in a show home. It looked like it had always been sitting on his kitchen shelf, only seeing the light of day every once in a while when he ditched his liquor cabinet for the coffee machine on the far end of the counter. Knowing him that wasn’t often.

“I'm kidding .”

“Well cariño I was thinking we could go to the dance bar tomorrow, but now I guess I'll have to stay home and rest my old knees.” He looked so surprised when you placed the mug in front of him, rested on a white paper napkin. It was almost like he had expected you to make it for yourself. The chair made a slight squeak against the floor as you pulled it back and took a seat, pulling his glass, now lined with the slight golden residue of whiskey, towards you. He was still surprised, a little taken back even, but not in offence, rather a tender, grateful smile tugged at his lips. 

“Since when do you dance?” With your focus no longer split between tasks you turned back to the conversation at hand. Making sure to emphasise you remembered just how uncharacteristic Javier’s little suggestion was. 

He took a sip of the earl grey, leaning forward and letting his shoulders fall ever so slightly. The glimmer of a distant memory played in his eyes as he met your gaze.“I don’t. But you do.” Your little reminiscence played in the back of your head like a movie reel, the soft sound of music from the dance bar by your house hanging in the air. As if transported into a distant dream you could see clusters of people twirling and dancing with the beat, like little ghosts behind Javier as he spoke. 

“And who am I going to dance with” When you said those words out loud you meant for them to sound a whole lot more utilitarian than they ended up sounding. Whether it was hope, or some odd suggestion you were in no mood to unpack where from deep in your subconscious that had come. All you could wish for is that he didn’t notice. 

“Plenty of people at the bar who’d love to dance with my darling.” And there it was, that answer you dreaded, delivered with that signature smile, with that warm, twinkling light in his eyes. “You don't have work tomorrow?” unable to bear the thought you moved along to more practical matters. 

He was already halfway through that cup of tea, and like his body was in the middle of some sort of spiritual cleanse you could see him resurface somewhat coherent and with eyes that weren’t half as dead as they were two minutes ago.“‘S friday, need the time off. Besides, I'd kick myself if I didn't make good on your time here. These fuckers still gonna be around when youre gone.” Sometimes you wondered if he was talking more to himself than he was to you. 

You felt a little buzzing in your purse, and you rummaged through it to find your phone. A text from Maria reminding you you needed to leave. “Yeah, you're gonna sit at the bar like a senior citizen while I have some fun?” 

Rising from your seat you searched the room for the last of your things. Notwithstanding the lack of time he had put into making the place home there were still small elements of him scattered throughout that little two bedroom. The fresh flowers in a glass vase on his centre table, framed pictures and art he’d been collecting over the years, small artefacts he’d brought back from his travels. It was so odd, the whole place stood suspended somewhere between home and a place far from it. Familiar yet distant. 

“Hey, they’ve got great drinks.”

He finished the last of his tea, and you picked up his mug and set it in the kitchen sink, running it under the tap water for a quick second to rinse it. Truth be told, you just wanted to sit and chat, and if half heartedly doing the dishes was going to give you a few more minutes with him you’d take it.“Don’t get too excited old man, I'm not driving us home.”

“I can take a few cariño, ‘m not like you.” You travelled to where you’d dropped your heels. 

“Slander.” pausing momentarily in the middle of putting on your shoes you lifted your head to find him looking back at you. His eyes had seemingly followed you all the way behind him, and he was still smiling. Had you not had one hand on his couch holding you in place you just might have tumbled over.  

“You be careful tonight, and don’t walk anywhere alone, especially if it's past ten. I know you– can't even read a damn map, so no wandering around, call me.” It looked like he had already given up on you, one hand rushing to his face to rub his tired eyes, the other plastered to the table. He was shaking his head the way he did when he caught you sneaking out your house one summer. 

“I’ll think about it.” of course you were going to call him, you didn't need an excuse. But you liked to see him all agitated, bossing you around like you knew he liked to do. With everyone, that is.

“No no, you're gonna call me when you get there, and you're gonna call me when you leave, and you're gonna tell me exactly how, and with whom you're gettin back.” You were already at the door, hoping to escape him, but he was yelling your name in that exasperated voice, and you heard him shuffle from his seat to stand up– catch you and drag you back in case that was necessary. 

“But-” Turning to meet his peering form over the wall of his living room you parted your lips, attempting to protest, playfully, but still protest, but he wasn't having any excuses. 

He was doing that thing where he looked at you with his soft eyes, slightly downturned, and the look could convince you to do just about anything, made you feel like you’d rather die than let them down. Anybody else’s nagging would have got you on your last nerve, but you only felt warmth, concern and care when he did it. Hell he could throw you off his roof and you’d still think the same. 

“No buts, no excuses. Thats final” You giggled, half because he sounded so much like a boring old man, and half because he was now leaning against the wall, with the top buttons of his shirt undone, and his hands on his hips, hair dishevelled from when he’d combed his fingers through it. 

“You sound like him..” With brows raised you looked at him expectantly, taunting him with your teases, and you nearly jumped out the door when he walked towards you, ready to grab you back to him as you escaped. Any insult was better than being compared to your dad, especially in this context. “Don't you say that, cariño” He was laughing, and you were laughing, and his otherwise quiet apartment building was now singing with an uncharacteristic gleam, a glow, a gaiety. 

Your shoes clicked against the floors as you scurried away, turning one last time to see him leaning against his door frame, shaking his head as he watched you skip into the night. “I don't make the rules old man”. You heard him chuckle behind you as you ‘sing songed’ your words, your heart fluttering when you noticed he waited for you to get outside before he closed his front door. 

–

It's better than I ever even knew

They say that the world was built for two

Only worth living if somebody is loving you

And, baby, now you do

“Thought I told you not to wander around alone, cariño.” You jumped, but it was too late, he had wrapped you up in his arms, and you were pressed up against his chest, and his voice was a low whisper in your ear. And you were dizzy. The alcohol in your system only partly responsible for your petrified squeak, wavering voice, and the way you swayed gently in his embrace. But when he kissed the top of your head ever so gently you could only giggle, recognising that warm hold, that faint smell of whisky on his shirt. 

“Psycho, you scared the shit outta me.” He was laughing when you turned around, exhausted, defeated almost, but his eyes were gleaming in the moonlight, and you felt yourself all but swoon at the way he was looking down at you.  “You’re lucky I'm the only psycho you ran into” Grabbing your face in his hands each word he spoke was punctuated with hyperbole, and a teasing disbelief. Your own hands shot up to grab his, and your cold palms thawed at the touch. You were sure you felt your heartbeat in your throat when his thumbs brushed the swell of your cheeks, you were sure he could feel the way they grew hot under his rough hands. “Just came out for a smoke, don’t go into cardiac arrest now” your fallen cigarette crumpled under your foot when you stepped on it, and in the midst of your eye roll you watched as he stepped back to look at you in faux disapproval. 

“Look at ya’, terrible.” He motioned his head towards the trampled butt on the ground below you. “Me? Terrible?” When you closed the distance between the both of you you stepped on it again, hearing it crush under your shoes, and shoved his shoulder playfully, poking his chest with your pointer finger. “Drinking on the job again old man?” Then he laughed again, this time at your playful yet truthful accusation, and the sound made you feel lighter than a feather. How could one person be so charming, so charismatic, at one in the morning? Like he was divulging a trade secret he raised his brow. “Keeps me awake.”

The blaring music in the club was muffled in the distance as you walked towards the steps of the church in front of you, the quiet and empty street echoing your footsteps. He walked beside you, kept you close on that pleasant summer night. When you turned your head your eyes caught a group of men huddled by a small food stall at the side of the street, hunched over some beers, smoking cigarettes. In the crowd there were two familiar faces. Steve was dressed casually, Carillo and the others in military fatigues. You wondered why he wasn’t walking in their direction, but judging by the look on their faces you concluded there would probably be a better time to do so. Besides, you weren't complaining, he was enough, he always was. 

They shot you a half hearted wave, and two strained smiles from across the road. 

Taking a seat you pat the stone ground beside you, watching as he looked around, almost willing someone to come into sight, one foot on the steps leading up to the cathedral entrance, wringing his hands. “What’re you doing here anyway?” You wondered what he had done that evening, but you knew you were better off not asking. You were glad to have bumped into him, and the last thing you wanted to do in your giggly half tipsy mood was have him explain something you were sure would keep you up at night. Not when he had that look on his face, his work look. 

“Waitin’ on an informant, but someone fucked up and well, we’re back at square one.” he was still searching the street when he bent down to sit beside you, so close your knees bumped. 

You felt your heart race a little when he pulled out what looked like a joint he had rolled moments ago from his shirt pocket, when he leaned back on his arm, lit it and looked up at the sky as he took a drag. You wondered if in your little emotional panic, your worry of his disappearance you had blocked out the memory of his striking, handsome face. You wondered if he had always been this beautiful, this captivating, everything he did set you on fire, the way he carried himself. 

“Smoke a lotta weed for a DEA agent.” 

He turned his head towards you, letting it fall lazily in your direction, and his hair fell in his face the way it did all those years ago, and he shot you that smile that felt like home. “Been a long day cariño”. He was looking back to the sky, but your eyes didn't leave him. He looked so tragic in the moonlight, half lit by its platinum glow. You weren’t sure if it was the liquid courage, or the fact that his shoulder looked more inviting than ever, or the fact that a cool breeze just blew by, and you shivered as it brushed your shoulder, but you leaned your head against him, and you felt your tummy erupt with butterflies when he placed a lingering kiss to your forehead. It was forbearing, and merciful, and you wondered if he had somehow noticed your girlish fawning, your silly admiration, and your heart dropped momentarily, but was soon resuscitated by his soft laughter. 

“Remember those cigarettes of mine you'd steal back in the day.” The breeze had picked up, and it’s cool was far more jarring when it kissed your hot cheeks. “‘S’not stealing… you knew.” you closed your eyes, and let yourself get lost in that comfortable memory. “yeah , could've told your papa” He was looking down at you, but you kept your eyes ahead, too intimidated to meet his gaze. 

“Didn’t” 

“Should’ve” His voice was a mumble beside you, and you found yourself thinking about your dad for the first time in a while, and you were instantly reminded the man you were so taken up by was his best friend, and almost twice your age, and saw you as nothing more than his buddy’s daughter. You stiffened against him. 

He took another drag of his joint. “If he was here right now his blood pressure would be through the roof”. A cold breeze tickled your skin, and he rubbed your shoulder gently and despite the murmured chatter in your head you couldn’t help but melt into his touch. 

“Darling, I can't believe you've been out this long.” He was laughing, and his horrible impression had you in a similar state. Conflict bubbled in your chest, each word slipping past his lips reminded you of your relationship, of your dad, and what he would think if he could peek inside your head, at your little thoughts. You felt guilty, but how could you hold that feeling? Not when he was shaking with joy beside you, not when he had his arm around you the way he did, not when you were tucked into his side, shielded from the winds. 

“You smell like a dingy bar” It felt so natural, your regular routine, the way it had always been, when your dad would say something funny, or outrageous, and the both of you would have a field day. It was well incorporated in your repertoire at that point, but the years apart had the memory sitting on a shelf in your brain, collecting dust. You remember when your dad made a terrible joke the day of your senior prom, and the two of you refused to let it go the entire evening. Javier had a vocabulary of his favourite phrases, and so did you, and you couldn’t help but pull them out every once in a while. 

“How am I going to survive you?!” You spoke in tandem, each letter dragged out with faux frustration, an uncanny similarity to your dad’s tone ringing in the air as your blended voices formed a familiar melody. It hung between you as he laughed heartily, and you wanted nothing more than to frame the moment, keep it tucked away where it would be yours, only yours forever. The starry night, a twinkling sky above you, the chirp of the crickets,  and perhaps your most treasured person, holding you against him. 

You wondered why he left, why he left you behind. Did he feel the same as you did in that moment? Was he happy to be there? To have caught you on your night out? After he’d called off his wedding all those years ago he’d become a rarer sight. You were too young to remember, and it wasn’t long after your parents got married. Growing up in your little town you’d heard he always had a reputation with women, but you never believed a word of the neighbourhood chatter. 

They were not the same person– the guy everyone talked about, and your Javier. While you’d never give him a break from the teasing, bringing up all the times you’d run into women in the streets, asking if you’d seen him, you could never really imagine him as the man everyone made him out to be. He was reckless, sure, and impulsive, and insolent, and a hardass, but he was also gentle, and thoughtful, and gallant.

At least he was to you. 

As if he could hear your thoughts, and they were so loud in your head you wouldn’t be surprised if he could, he broke the silence. “I wanted to come back cariño, but-” 

“But you couldn’t, I know '' There was no point going over what had happened and why, and while you incessantly wondered you knew it was a fruitless exercise. It was just how he was, he liked to up and leave, disappear, keep his distance, and you wondered if that had anything to do with you. But you didn't want to kill the moment, more for yourself than for him. 

“Glad you decided to come, cariño” It was like he was trying to convince you, of what exactly you weren't sure, but he sounded so earnest, so true.. and you felt deep down he was trying to make amends for his absence. Not just from you, but from the life he left behind. Were you an exception? Or a way to right his wrongs? mend all that had been pushed aside? You didn't know, but you’d worry about that later.

The winds had picked up, and the sky was gleaming, and for the first time in a long time you felt at peace. 

“I like it here, it's nice.” When you spoke he was almost surprised, but your words seemed to only widen his grin. He squeezed your shoulder gently. 

“Me too baby, me too.” 

— 

Singin' in the old bars

Swingin' with the old stars

Livin' for the fame

Kissin' in the blue dark

Playin' pool and wild darts

Video games

He holds me in his big arms

Drunk and I am seeing stars

This is all I think of

“Looks like they knew you were coming.” You swivelled the bar stool in your direction, hopping up on the seat. It was early in the evening, around seven, but the music was already going, and there were people on the dance floor, moving to the beat of retro spanish tunes. Javier took a seat beside you, still in his suit from work, shirt haphazardly tucked into his dress pants, tie loose around his neck. 

“Why?” the bartender placed your drinks on the counter, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the fact that he’d stuck to his whiskey on the rocks. “They got the oldies on”. You were giggling, and while he wanted to pretend like he was far too tired to care about your antics he couldn’t help but crack a smile. There was a charm to it– catching a break at the end of the work week, the tranquillity of the weekend enveloping you like a safety net. One of you that is. 

Friday night was busy at any joint, buzzing with nightlife, food and drink. Somewhere along the way you’d gotten up from your seat and headed to the large empty space in the middle of the bar, where tables and chairs had been cleared to create a somewhat makeshift dance floor. Javier was right, while he sat sipping his whiskey you found plenty of dance partners. 

It was all easy, getting passed from one person to the other as the group formed a large circle. It was like you had disappeared into the crowd, bodies moving left to right in the dim green glow, only occasionally giving you a glimpse of the man sitting at the counter– face rested in his palm. Ask him to dance. These urges of yours were momentary, little private lapses of judgement that would only remind you of what was just not possible. 

When he’d take you out back in the day he’d have some minor injury to blame for his lack of participation on the dance floor, and when he didn’t he was “a terrible dancer” or “had too many drinks”. After a while you stopped asking. You realised you’d never really seen him dance. 

You had grabbed the hand of a stranger, letting them twirl you around– Javier was looking in your direction. For how much fun he liked to have you had come to recognize hardly any of it involved other people. Weddings, birthdays, barbeques. He was there. However, you’d always felt he looked at it as an obligation. A hi to the bride and groom, a bouquet of flowers, some meaningless small talk and he would disappear out the door. When he stayed it was solely in the company of a few familiar suspects– your dad being one. While he was often the subject of conversation, he was a pretty reluctant conversationalist. 

It was hot, and muggy, and if someone asked you where you were in the room you surely couldn’t place yourself. Forcing yourself out of the chatter in your head you looked up, noticing finally that your partner hadn’t changed in the past 10 minutes. 

He was looking down at you quite sweetly, he was actually quite handsome, your age, but he didn’t have a white button up on, didn’t have that sideways smirk. He wasn’t Javier. And unfairly, for that reason alone you didn’t want him. But who were you to say no to pretty green eyes, soft, delicate looking light brown hair, a black button up that wasn’t very buttoned up. Neither of you had the confidence to speak up, so you let him sway you side to side, one hand firmly planted on his chest.

You wondered what he really thought of you, if after this little visit he’d be more compelled to come visit, at least spare you a call. Would he disappear once again? Call your dad once in a while and ask him to deliver some impersonal message like ‘say hi to her for me’? You wished you could care less, but you knew you couldn’t, and something inside you told you he knew too. 

A firm arm wrapped around your waist, spinning you in the opposite direction, faces turned to motion blur as you turned on your heel. “Looks like a saved you, cariño.” He was twirling you, holding your hand in his and pulling you into his chest. He hadn’t really saved you but at the same time he had. He could pick you up from a field of lilies and drop you in a medieval torture chamber and he’d still be your knight in shining armour.  

What the fuck are you doing here? You wanted to ask, but you held back. You wondered what had prompted him on the dance floor. Did he think some weirdo wouldn’t let go of you? Had seeing you dance with someone else accomplished a task years of your coaxing couldn’t? You turned back, but the stranger had already disappeared, and Javier was directing your gaze towards him. 

As you had always suspected he was a great dancer, and he sure as hell liked holding you close as you moved along the dance floor. The songs ran over the decades, and he’d often sing lines to you– smiling and pulling you towards him. He looked so handsome, lights reflecting off his face, his smile tired, but earnest, and wide. You almost couldn’t keep up. 

“Danced your energy away?” Picking up the pace once again you twirled around him, unwilling to give in. “No! Why? your back needa rest?” You watched him laugh– shake his head and grab you by the hips. “Sure you didn't cariño.. Can't keep up with an old man?” Voice raw from yelling over the music, you pulled his leg. “Think I heard your knee pop.” His raised brow only aroused suspicion. “Oh really?” Before you could even respond his arm had hooked under your thighs, and his hand was on your back and you were being lifted into the air. “Oh my god!” Your own arms flung around his neck, both your laughs floating between you as he spun around. 

It felt different and not because something in his head had dragged him out onto the dance floor. The way he was looking at you, the way he just couldn’t let go. It hurt your heart more than anything you’d ever experienced. The pain was conflicting– the love ache and the hurt. Did he know how much he meant to you? Did he even care? Something in your heart told you he did but you chalked it up to innocent hope. 

The music slowed down, and you heard emerging from the stereo a familiar tune. 

You’d hum it all the time, so much so it would drive your father nuts. In the kitchen, while doing chores, sometimes as you read by Javier’s side. On the weekend when you woke up early to help cook breakfast it’d be the first song on the playlist. You recall how he’d watch you dance around the kitchen, truth be told rather ungracefully in the mornings– spatula in one hand, kitchen towel in the other.They played it at some wedding once, and your friends had bounded to the dance floor with you just to ensure you didn’t miss a note. You were running so fast you all but collided with him, and he had to catch your falling form as you stumbled towards your best friend, shouting a quick “sorry” as you bounded in her direction.  

He remembered. 

Words were useless when you looked at him the way you did. An expression of surprise, confusion, realisation, all at once, a smile tugging your lips, your doe eyes gazing into his soft brown ones. And his arms were around you, and you were pressed against his warm chest, and you were gently swaying to the beat of the music. 

“Looks like they knew you were coming.” 

It felt like a blip in time, but it would’ve been hours. People came and left, all around you groups of twos and threes and tens, but you stayed, and he stayed. Smiling down at you, holding you tight. You were a little light headed from it all, feet fighting the urge to take a little break. You just couldn’t let go. 

Plopping down on the bar stool you let your cheek hit the cool marble of the counter. Your legs felt like wet noodles, trembling when you finally sat down. You weren't really sure where Javier went, but it felt like an eternity he let you lay there with your eyes closed. Every second was one hundred times longer when he wasn’t holding you. His arm was firm around your waist when he finally helped you out of your seat. You realised he’d been standing only about two metres away the entire time. 

“Let’s get you home, ‘s late.” He had picked your shoes up from where you’d abandoned them, his own blazer draped over his arm– the one you weren’t hanging on to. With closed eyes you let him lead you out into the night, all your weight firmly supported by his broad shoulders, your stumbling feet only stabilised when he tucked you into his side. 

Unintelligible to anyone but him, and muffled by your yawn and cheek pressed against his upper arm you slurred your words as you spoke. “Past your bedtime?” 

He chuckled to himself, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head, his voice a faint murmur– the last thing you really remember hearing.  “Yes cariño, past my bedtime…” 

—

It's you, it's you, it's all for you

Everything I do

I tell you all the time

Heaven is a place on earth with you

Tell me all the things you wanna do

I heard that you like the bad girls

Honey, is that true?

“You been drinkin’ my whiskey….” He was leaning on the table, waving the glass you left out in the air, holding it between two of his fingers. He wasn’t upset, rather looked quite amused. You rubbed your eyes, making out his smile from a distance.  “Couldn't sleep.” Peering into the room you were staying in you were sure he saw your blankets bunched up on the bed where you had been tossing and turning for hours. Your eyes caught the clock on the wall. 

1am. 

It had been a long day. Being assigned to a new supervisor proved to be a real curse. He was quite a piece of work. Patronising, condescending, everything in between. If that wasn’t enough he rejected your proposal, and asked you to submit a new one in two days. God knows you had a lot on your mind. 

The kitchen cabinet swished when he opened it, bringing you back to the present. “God, you really are like me huh?” He still had his jacket on, but judging by the look on his face he needed a drink first. The couch dipped as you threw yourself on it, and you turned over its back rest to watch him move around the kitchen. 

“I had like one shots worth, with like a whole glass of water, so not like you.” Curled up under his plush throw blanket you sank into the cushions, eyes following him as he sat down beside you. With a deep sigh he leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index. “Fuckin’ hell” 

“Long day?” He picked up the joint he’d just rolled from the side table, groping for the handle of the drawer to grab a lighter. “Can say that..” It was just another night for him. You were lucky you heard him pull up outside, and had got yourself to look somewhat presentable so you could see him at least once that day. Granted that involved nothing but putting on a bralette. 

Maybe it was the fact that it was late, or that you had such a shitty day, or that you just couldn’t help yourself anymore, but you leaned against his chest, snuggling into his side as he took a drag. “I would try and talk you out of this job, but I think I've exhausted all my arguments..” You twiddled your fingers, just wanting to melt into him and disappear. 

“I don’t think there’s anything else I could do.” You shivered, his fingers tracing shapes on your upper arm. “Couldn’t do whatever it is you’ve been doing…” redirecting your gaze from your lap you looked up at him. “Sometimes it feels like I can’t either” He was looking ahead, voice low and rumbly, and just what you needed to hear. 

“You’ve got time, got one’ve my lifetimes ahead’ve you” He pulled you closer, head resting against yours. “Don't say that” You poked his side lightly, hearing him chuckle beside your ear. “Oh yeah, now those jokes gettin’ to you?!” 

Stewing in a comfortable silence you let yourself ease into his embrace, willing your mind to shut up for the time being and enjoy his company. The way he was holding you– so much more delicately than he ever had before had your heart clenching. “Tell me your day was better than mine.”

His words cut through the chilled air, and your heart soared at the thought that it even mattered to him. “No, sucked.” to anyone else you would have responded with a simple ‘it was good’, some white lie to avoid further questions, but you couldn’t lie to him, he’d figure it out one way or another. “My supervisor’s an asshole..”

Nothing was more comforting than the kiss he placed to the side of your head.“‘m sorry honey” He offered you his joint– seemingly having deserted his agenda of being a good influence in favour of apparently celebrating your mutual disappointment. You felt your cheeks heat. 

“I've never smoked before.” 

Gasping comically he whipped his head towards you. He tapped your nose with his index, pinching your cheek and giving you possibly the most suspicious look he could muster. At least he tried, because his smile peaked through the interrogative exterior. “You little liar.” The gesture had you jumping to defend yourself. Shifting to meet his drooping eyes you almost knocked him over as you plopped on the couch, letting him wrap his free arm around your waist to steady you. “No, promise!” You leaned your forehead against his, your eyes gazing into his in an attempt to convince him. Despite his disbelief you were indeed telling the truth. 

“Oh really? Been drinkin’ too, trouble.” his hand snaked up the nape of your neck, cupping your jaw. It was then you realised just how close you were to him. Your eyes flickered to his lips momentarily. When you realised he had beat you to the task you were convinced you were hallucinating, or had somehow gotten high off the second hand smoke. In pain, you were in utter pain, unveiled and unprotected– subjected to his piercing gaze. 

Painfully aware of the tension that had settled like a thick cloud over you, your voice came out small and strained, but also hopeful. “‘M not trouble….could be though” 

The tightness in his jaw was something you couldn’t ignore. “Yeah, I know” In a moment of bad judgement, or in hindsight good judgement you decided you knew what you needed to do. You were exhausted of having to wonder. You were exhausted of asking questions, exhausted of his absence. You slung your leg over his thighs, lifting yourself onto his lap Leaning against his firm chest you peered up at him through your lashes. 

“Baby, careful”  You knew this time those words were not for you, you knew he was fighting the urge to gather you in his arms. You could see that look in his dark eyes– hungry, and hot. You could feel him, hard against your cotton panties. He bent down to press his forehead against yours, your noses bumping. “Cariño, you don't know what you're doing.”  His actions were in direct contradiction to his words, his large hands cradling your soft cheek, pleading you to put him out of his misery. But you were selfish, like he had been all those years ago, and you needed him to put you out of yours. 

“You don’t want this, Cariño” He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip. He was doing that thing again, where he was talking more to himself than to you. But couldn’t let him decide what you wanted, because for years you’d let him convince himself you’d wanted to keep your distance to maintain his own conscience– to make him feel better about how he’d disappeared from your life. 

“I know what I want..”  You didn’t mean to, but you were pouting, and despite your best efforts to speak with conviction you couldn’t help but come off a little pleading, “show me, please.” surely he knew you weren’t just talking about the weed. 

His lips ghosted over yours, and you could just about burst into tears the way he was looking at you. He probably noticed the way your chin wobbled, the way your doe eyes blinked away from his. Because in a moment you heard him sigh heavily, painfully, and apologetically all at once. 

And he was kissing you. Soft and slow, and gentle, and benevolent and like everything you’d ever hoped for. He tasted how you’d always imagined– like whiskey and cigarettes and everything in between. Like home. His thumb stroked your cheek gently until you pulled away, glossy eyed and wobbly on his lap. 

“Want me to show you what?” And here you thought his eyes couldn’t get any darker. He mumbled into your lips, voice commanding and steady– everything you weren't. He grabbed the back of your neck and guided you back towards him. Threading your fingers through his hair you let yourself get lost in the shelter of his hold. You felt as though he could pretty much eat you alive, the way his lips were moving against yours– suddenly hot and soft and needy. 

Heart racing you chased his lips with your own, but he steadied you with his hands, amused at your zeal. “Gotten all worked up now have we?” You couldn’t help it, you tried, tried to sit steady in his lap, but you just couldn’t, not when you felt his cock, twitch against your clothed pussy. 

You rolled your hips against his, watched as his head fell back against the couch. The crease between his brows only persuaded you to continue. “Shit baby, tryna kill me?” barely audible, his rasp had you bracing yourself with your hands planted firmly on his chest. You dragged your hips again, leaning down and tugging the fabric of his shirt. He reached for the joint he’d abandoned on the side table, bringing it to your lips. 

He observed you greedily. “That's it, good girl.” His voice had never sounded more strained than it did in that moment, watching you take a drag, eyes glossing over. The praise had your heart fluttering, you’d do just about anything to hear it again. Smoking wasn’t helping either of your causes, because it only made you press your pussy harder against his clothed crotch. This time his hips rose slightly to meet you, and he cursed lowly under his breath. Already unable to maintain control. 

Taking another drag he leaned back, letting you rub yourself against him, eyes screwing shut every once in a while, just like your own. He’d bring the joint to your waiting mouth every now and then, revelling in the sight of you getting more and more desperate with each puff. 

“dirty little girl..” you whimpered at his words. “rubbin’ that drippy lil pussy all over my lap.” You looked down, only to find a dark spot on his grey jeans, for where you pressed yourself against him. Incapable of stopping your movements you continued, relishing how the friction eased the throbbing between your legs. “Yeah? few drags got you all achy cariño, got you squirmin’?” 

He was watching you, and you could make out his intense gaze through your fluttering lashes, his eyes scanning you up and down, then fixing on your face of strained pleasure. “Tell me how good it feels, Cariño” His palms smoothed up and down your thighs, harsh and slow, and exercising all the self control he could muster. It was difficult to answer, a response bubbling in your throat before you were incoherently blurting it out. 

"Feels so good..” whining, you grabbed the fabric of his shirt in your fists, bouncing on his lap lightly to feel just anything against you, you wanted more, lust and intoxication clouding your judgement. “Please, need it, need it so bad” Losing all sense of restraint one of his hands reached for your hips, squeezing and gripping firmly. 

He dragged your already rolling hips against him, sliding you against his clothed crotch to the point you couldn’t help but let your legs fall limp, your forehead press against his shoulder. “Need what?” You could feel the tick in his jaw where it was pressed up against your cheek. 

His hand slipped between your bodies, moving your soaked panties aside to feel your wetness. You shuddered when you felt him against you, grinding down on his hand. “Fuck, look at that. So fuckin’ wet for me babygirl.” 

“Need you inside me, please.” Nosing his neck you pressed a kiss there, mouth falling agape as he rubbed your clit, fingers teasing your entrance, just barely pushing into you.  “Like this?” If your laboured breaths were any indication you couldn’t take it much longer. 

You wiggled your hips, trying to bear down on his digits, but he pulled away only to squeeze the inside of your thigh. ““Gettin’ to you already? use your words baby” he was taunting you, your little ‘no’s making him smirk against your shoulder as he went back to sliding his fingers along the cut of your pussy. “What do ya’ want me to do to you? Tell me babygirl.” You knew the sweet talk was only meant to encourage you, and while it worked you couldn’t help the way your cheeks burned when you replied. 

“Want your cock inside me. Want you to fuck me.. please … need it” 

Now that he listened to, fingers pulling away and tapping at your lips. When you gazed down at them you could see how wet you really were– having drenched them in the little while he’d had his hand in your panties. Obeying you parted them, letting him slide them into your waiting mouth, sucking gently, the taste of yourself heady on your tongue. “Good girl.” Even though he looked quite composed on the outside you still noticed the way he swallowed thickly when your tongue ran along his digits. 

“Want me to fuck the cute lil pussy?” you shook your head vehemently, and he chuckled at your enthusiasm. “That's my pretty baby.” he kissed you like he wanted to devour you, frantic, and urged, voice so rough it came out almost like a growl. His hands roughly grabbed your hips, flipping you to lay back against his couch. In a moment your sleep top and bralette had been discarded, in a pile on the floor alongside your shorts and his own clothes. 

Slotting himself between your legs you looked down to where his fingers were tracing the inside of your thigh. You gazed up at him, upper body lit by the dim orange light of the side table, broad shoulders slumped as he admired the sight of you– on your back, in nothing but your panties, all for him. As he slowly pulled them down your legs, he sure seemed to relish the way the fabric of your cotton panties clung messily to your wet pussy.  

“Poor thing, just need someone to take care of you don’t you?” It was less of a question and more of a declaration, and undoubtedly it made you feel open and weak. How could you not feel that way? There you were laid out in front of him, every part of you exposed, his toned torso being the only part of him you could really see thanks to the half lit room. It felt like if he looked just a little closer he’d be able to see right through your naked body– and into your scrambled thoughts. 

His index teased your dripping hole, briefly dipping into you and coming back to rub soft circles on your clit. Gasping, your fingers flew to grip his wrist when you felt him slide his cock against your cunt, tip teasing your sensitive nub ever so slightly. “Relax babygirl, be good for me.” Bringing your hand to his lips he peppered your knuckles with kisses, willing you to ease into the cushions as he draped himself over your body. He grasped your face in his palm, kissing his reassurance against your forehead as you felt him line himself up with your leaking entrance. 

You mewled at the stretch of him, at how hot you felt against him as he eased himself into your soft pussy. “Shit- so fucking tight-” his stopped for a second, like he was willing himself not to split you open with one quick snap of his hips. “can barely fit my cock in this lil pussy.” Leaning in your lips searched for his. He let you melt into him, fingers brushing against your side as if to calm you down. 

It was so much– his weight on top of you, his hips slotted between your thighs, forehead pressed against yours. You could feel every pulse, every throb, every ridge of him inside you, nudging those spots you could never reach yourself– and he wasn’t even moving yet. 

When he did start moving you couldn’t help the whimper that slipped past your lips. Your fingers digging into the flesh of his biceps, pulling him closer. You needed him, pressed up against your rising chest, holding you. “I know cariño, I know.” His right hand squeezed your waist, “Feels so good doesn’t it? Yeah feelin’ all full?” 

His voice was so sweet, like honey, warm and sultry in your ear. You nodded a quiet ‘yes’. He cradled your face in his palm, nose nudging yours gently. Mumbling his own rhetorical “yeah?” he kissed the underside of your jaw. For the first time he felt as close as he physically was, big and thick inside you. 

You were drowning in his arms, enveloped by them, cocooned in a bubble of heat, and low breathy sighs, and his lips ghosting over yours as he thrust into you– hard, but slow, and deep.  “That’s it, just like that–” he picked up his pace ever so slightly. “Such a good girl.” His words were gruff, and stuttery and his breath tickled your ear whenever he spoke. 

Feeling the drag of his thick cock against your pulsing walls your eyes struggled to focus on him above you. He on the other hand seemed to have no trouble fixing his gaze on your trembling form. “Makin’ me feel so–” he brought his thumb to brush the swell of your cheek, “fucking good, baby”. Your head buzzed at his praise, burning face turning to rest in his palm. 

With your back lifting off the soft cushion you reached to pull him impossibly closer, wiggling your hips to meet his thrusts. “More, please, please.. Want it” you couldn’t recognise your voice, not when you were begging him, watching his eyes twinkle. “Yeah? Need me to fuck this pretty pussy harder?” you nodded– feeling embarrassed enough at his smirk of surprise to hide your face in his neck, but not enough to stop begging. Another soft “please” barely falling from your mouth.  

Rising slightly he grabbed your hips, holding your thigh against his side. Your tilted hips granted him a whole new angle, and before you knew it you were throwing your head back, letting it fall against the upholstery. “You want that, don't you baby? Need me to stuff you full of my cum?” You could only respond with your sounds of pleasure. 

He pushed you against the cushions, hovering above you to drive himself deeper, watching you turn into a moaning incoherent mess– your whimpers and whines bouncing off the walls and only exhilarating his pleasure. “That's right cariño, I gotcha’” one hand squeezed the flesh of your hip, then travelled up to brush against the exposed column of your throat– fingers tracing your skin before he was leaning down and placing sloppy kisses against you. 

“gonna fuck this pretty pussy till she’s dripping with my cum.”

He must have noticed that dumb, hazy look in your eyes when propped himself back up, still fucking you till your hips pressed into the sofa’s cushions. “Fuck, nothin in that head of yours huh?” You made out his smirk of pride as you jostled around, trying your best to keep your eyes on him as he moved above you. 

It was far easier said than done. Not when you could feel his cock against your throbbing walls, could hear his scruff groans whenever he felt you clench around him, not when he was looking down at you with his furrowed brows, and sweat gemming his hair– which’s curls had been ruffled out of place from when you’d ran your fingers through them. 

Especially not when he shifted ever so slightly, and you felt his tip brush that sensitive spot inside you you didn't even know you had. Javier cursed above you, feeling you squeeze his cock. “that the spot huh babygirl?” he watched the way your eyes fluttered shut, face scrunching in pleasure as he hit it over and over and over again. 

Your head lulled from side to side, your body in overdrive and completely overwhelmed at the sensations. That was until he was cupping your cheek in his palm, tilting your face in his direction. “Use your words for me.”. But you couldn’t, parted lips struggling to form anything coherent besides soft, little whines. 

His hips snapped in a deep, slow thrust. “Say it..” Your eyes were barely open, and you reached and tried to grab him closer, but he stayed above you, unwilling to budge as he slowed to a complete stop– waiting for you to voice your needs. “Yes-”

He mumbled against your lips, nipping, and kissing. “Good girl, my good girl.” To that you nodded, back arching as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.  Every part of you singing at his touch– how he kneaded and squeezed your hot flesh. 

The coil in your belly only tightened and tightened, and you suddenly felt too vulnerable, too exposed to meet his hooded eyes. Turning your face to the side you let the plush throw blanket hide your hot cheeks, burying your face in it. “Look at me, wanna see your pretty face.” It was an instruction. One he expected you to follow like all the others. 

You didn’t think he’d notice that hitch in your breath, the way you did the opposite and smashed your face against the soft fabric. It was all too much, and he was fucking into your soaking pussy, and his hands were roaming your body, and you could feel his skin brush yours, and you were dizzy, and overwhelmed and you could scream and–

And he was slowing down again, just enough to where he kept you on that edge, to where you could savour every bit of him inside you. – “Cariño, look at me..” God he sounded so tender, coaxing you out of your daze just enough to the point you shook your head ‘no’, whimpering and turning only further away from him. 

He kissed your cheek, cooing at your overwhelm. Not to mock you, rather he sounded quite endeared, prideful even. “Baby” Nudging his nose with yours you felt his thumb rub soothing circles against the apex of your cheekbone, urging you in his direction ever so slightly. Your eyes fluttered open, just barely, only to find him smiling down at you. 

“There’s my girl.” 

“Need you to look at me when ‘m fuckin’ you.” He held your face in place as his hips met yours, slow and languid. No part of you was left untouched, his kisses adorning every inch of your exposed skin, lips coming to press against yours every now and then. It was like he could see through your nakedness, and the thought terrified you to no end, made you feel small and defenceless, and had your sensitive cunt squeezing his cock.  

“You close honey?” When you nodded your nose bumped his, and he laughed before he was kissing you gently. He brushed the sweat from your brow, voice so mellow yet in control. “Cum for me baby-” You felt him deep inside you. So so so close. ”Wanna feel you cum all over my cock” 

It rolled over you, slow and intense and deep, in waves. He held you close, cooing at your trembling frame, holding you against him. “'M here cariño, I gotcha, just like that.” Groaning, he watched your eyes struggle to remain open, rolling back into your head as he fucked your throbbing cunt. “That's my pretty girl.” 

His own hips stuttered, thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared his release. Still experiencing the aftershocks of your orgasm you felt him fucking into your warm, pulsing pussy. You felt his cock twitch inside you before he was filling you up with his cum, a strained curse slipping past his lips. 

Ears ringing you registered him catching his breath above you, but it was all too hazy for you to make out. All you really knew is that he hadn’t let go of you, hadn’t abandoned you on the couch to smoke a cigarette or pour himself a drink, instead he was peppering your face with little kisses. “ ‘m so proud’a you cariño– did so well for me.” 

Pulling out he slid his hand under your back, flipping you over so you were snuggled into his chest. The cold air from the open window could barely touch your skin before Javier was throwing the blanket over you– keeping you warm, close. 

You were still in your daze, but even as you lay on top of him, drifting in and out of a deep slumber you couldn’t shake the worry that when you opened your eyes he would be gone. 

That he would have traded you in for the comfort of his bed, or worse would have disappeared into obscurity once again. The thought only stung more as you felt his cum leak out of you, mixing with your own to drip down your thighs obscenely. 

You never really knew if he regretted it, if he wanted you for sure, if he liked having the weight of your body against him. Flinging your arms around his neck you tugged him impossibly closer, burying your face in his neck. A silent plea to stay where he was. You didn’t care if you seemed needy, or clingy or pathetic. 

It was like he knew somehow, like your thoughts floated to him after you’d thought them. And as always there was no explaining to do, no questions to answer, nothing to say. His embrace was safe, and secure, and unwavering. “close those eyes for me cariño mìo” He planted a soft kiss to your nose, his arms tightening around you, palms rubbing soothing circles on your back. “‘m right here babygirl, not goin’ anywhere….”

You did. And he didn’t. 

It's better than I ever even knew

They say that the world was built for two

Only worth living if somebody is loving you

And, baby, now you do

Now you do

Now you do

Now you do

Now, now you do

Now you do

Now you do

I would also like to add that we are engaging with this concept solely in the realm and interest of fiction. This type of situation is a huge red flag. While the reader is seemingly consenting and enthusiastic there is a huge power imbalance between her and Javier. He has also known her her whole life and has been a significant part of her childhood. Engaging sexually or romantically in a relationship like that is creepy gr*omer behaviour. I used their past as a narrative device because this isn’t real, but please be aware of your media consumption, and that dynamics between characters in fic are vastly different from what is healthy, and ethical in real life. 🫶🐝💗

I really hoped you lovelies enjoyed it!! Please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear it! Thank you to everyone who reblogs my work, you keep me writing. Dividers and banners by @ saradika 💗🐝✨

[devilmademewriteit]

Joel Miller & Javier Peña Headcanons (Drabbles?) Part 3!

another smutty edition<3

warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, oral [both receiving], fem penetration, masturbation) so 18+ only content; afab fem reader; mentions of hair pulling; bratty!reader; violence (slapping, choking, threats); mentions of pornography; description of a panic attack; step-cest; pet names (baby, angel, sweetheart, darlin, hermosa, cariño) dubcon/non-con (age gap, power dynamics, coercion, just a bunch o’ shady shit in general imsosorry)

No use of y/n.

Hello! In honour of 2K followers (woot woot!!!) here is yet another work of absolute FILTH. These just get more and more insane idk what to do w myself. Your requests r gonna send me straight to hell. Anyways, I love u all so much. Don’t forget to join the taglist, you can find the other drabbles on my masterlist, & part 3 of Salvatore coming soon!

-em<3

—

Javi loves when you take charge—God, it just makes him laugh. He watches you, faithful that you’re in control while you ride him, fingers coiling weakly around his neck. “Gonna come for me, Peña?” He lets your imagination run wild until he grows impatient, sitting up to crush you between his arms, fucking up into you at his signature brutal pace. “Where’s all that tough talk now, hermosa?” He sounds so soft, so gentle compared to the thrust of his hips—snapping to bruise against the supple skin of your thighs. You never know how he manages to last so long, only that by the time his hot seed is leaking down between your legs, you’re barely conscious, barely human, and squirming away from those fingers—that cock—stealing non-stop orgasms from your core. He’s only satisfied once you’re reduced to his personal little plaything.

“Where you goin’, baby? I’m not fuckin’ done with you.”

Stepdad!Joel catching you and your boyfriend messing around in your bedroom; “Get out,” he growls, holding the door open as the young man scurries out, averting Miller’s violent gaze with his own downcast, darting eyes, hurriedly tucking himself back into his pants. Shame spreads like the wings of a Monarch across your heating cheeks. “Joel—I—” but he’s already too close, shaking his head in disappointment as he unhooks the buckle of his belt. “Didn’ think you were like that, baby…” and he’s pinning your shoulders down, covering your mouth with his calloused hand, muffling your protests to keep your little lesson private. “Pay attention, angel. F’you’re gonna act like a slut, you’re gonna get used like one, too.” Joel is huge, he stretches you far, far wider than your boyfriend ever could. When he bottoms out between your tight, silken walls, you can’t help your cry of surprise, of pain—of reluctant ecstasy. “Sshh, baby—don’t scream, don’t scream.”

“M’doin’ you a favour, see? Think you don’t fuckin’ deserve this?”

It had been ages since you’d last seen him. He’d gotten himself disciplinary leave—some shady business with an anti-Escobar group of vigilantes. But he’s back now (as your boss, no less) and so is that stupid-old-crush. And God, does he ever look good, sulking around in those navy fitted suits. Your heart had lurched when he’d recognized you—“Nice seeing a familiar face around here, ‘specially a pretty one like yours”—but working late tonight, finally on your way out the door, he commands it to a full stop when a worn-down, stressed-out Javier Peña calls you back into his office. “I-I don’t have a ride home, sir—I can’t miss the last bus,” as he dips down to brush kisses to the side of your throat, as his hands caress the valley of your waist, as he lifts you onto his desk, carelessly scattering confidential affidavits, narco-profiles, ball-point pens. “Oh, but you won’t last long, cariño—I promise,” and you believe him, because his thumb on that delicate, throbbing bud already beckons, pulls, drags you towards oblivion. Sooner or later, he would’ve had you like this—spread open on lacquered oak; thighs trembling in the cradle of his grip; fingers, helpless, tugging at his collar as his own curl inside you. You’re learning a new language: Javier’s native tongue.

“Not gonna say ‘no’ to your boss, now, are you, sweetheart?”

Slapping brat-tamer!Joel across the face after he spends hours teasing your dripping cunt; feeling him ripple with lust-soaked aggression when he finally pulls his damp cock from its drag-and-circle strokes against your clit. “Joel—fuck me, already,” and he claps the back of his hand across your cheekbone, yanks you down the mattress, settles himself to tower, cock in hand, right above your face. He wrenches your lips apart, slaps his length against your awaiting tongue—“Watch your mouth”—eyes alight with caution, irritation, warning. So, you respond, “Fuck you.” A big ol’ fist yanks you up by your hair—you know you’re being punished when he stuffs your filthy mouth oh-so-full with his length. “Yeah, fuck you too.” Every pained choke, the pressure of your hands pushing against the merciless, quick snaps of his thighs—it’s Joel Miller’s favourite kind of apology. He’s nonchalant, deceptively casual when he says it: “Nah, you don’t needa breathe—”

“—You’re gonna stop bein’ such a brat, or you’re gonna gag on an old man’s cock ‘til it fuckin’ kills y’a… whichever comes first, angel.”

On those rare nights he found himself alone, Javi liked to jack off, a glass of whiskey in his free hand. Sometimes with porn, most often without. When he did use the tapes, however, his go-to featured a dark haired man brutally fucking a girl into the dented pillows of a worn-in couch—God, she looked just like you. The real ‘you’ that was tough, incorruptible, a bit high-strung, and completely self-denying becomes a needy, cock-drunk mess at 6:12. Split wide open, taking it so rough, she whines, “You’re g’na m-make me come all—all over your c-cock.” If Javi doesn’t finish right then, he always does around the eleven minute mark, when her cheeks puff up around his fat tip, glassy eyes coming alive with that familiar, feminine devotion to male pleasure. When a forceful hand drags her lips down a long length of cock, that’s when Javi doesn’t stand a chance; he hangs off her every muffled, desperate word (and Christ, does her voice ever sound like yours): “Use me—please—use me, use me, use me.” In his twisted, sex-addled mind, he’s answering you, warm spend dripping onto thick, coiled fingers:

“I want to—fuck, wanna use every square inch of you, baby.”

The Jackson commune required all adults to take shifts patrolling the community; you’d been paired up with a far older, far more experienced, and far more… volatile partner. He rarely made conversation, but he got on with your dad, so it seemed like a good pairing, one that might teach you a thing or two—a rational decision. It wasn’t. Very quickly, you’d noticed his near tangible stares of hunger, the way his fingers clenched into white-knuckle-fists every time the weather warmed and your clothing got shorter—tighter. Soon, you’d made up your mind: you needed Joel. “Stop fuckin’ teasin’” he’d growled under the blood-orange glow of the southern sunset, grasping your flattened palm and moving it from its suggestive position on his chest, “M’not givin’ it to you.” Creeping in close, running your thumb across the sparse, silver-flecked hairs peppering his rigid jaw: “But I’ll be so good, Miller—I’ll listen, I can beg for it, too—please, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“S’exactly the problem, darlin’. Jus’ one touch n’ I’d have you doin the dirtiest things for me… Fuck, wouldn’t be able to look your old man in the eye for months.”

Bonus Fluff:

Thank God they’d managed to stop the outbreak. It had felt like the end, at first, with the government-mandated lockdowns, people hoarding toilet paper and Lysol, going stir-crazy behind closed doors. And thank God for your neighbour, Joel Miller, who’d become something like your rock throughout those terrifying weeks. He’d never been close with your emotionally distant parents (really, who was?) but you were friends with his daughter, so he’d always treated you like one of his own. Until one Friday night, when you’d fallen asleep watching TV with Sarah and woken up to the thrum of your heart pounding against your ribs, beige walls closing in tight, the beginnings of a panic attack cresting throughout your shaking body. “S’okay, s’okay,” and he’d been there, cradling you in those blue-collar arms, cooing wispy, gentle comforts into the crook of your neck. The memory was mostly haze—but you kept the ghostly caresses of his finger tips smoothing the tense muscles beneath your skin, the near-kisses he’d brushed to your forehead, throat, and cheeks, and especially his look of restraint as he’d replaced your restrictive clothes with his own oversized tee. The next morning, you’d come to in his bed, nose nestled into the crumpled folds of his black t-shirt. Heat blossomed across your cheeks as the sunrise brought realization’s dawn upon you. “You jus’ wouldn’ calm down—” Joel’s concern had overwhelmed his tone as his thumb traced the apex of your cheekbone.

“Jus’ couldn’t stand to see you so… upset, sweetheart. Holdin’ you’s the only thing that seemed to do you any good.”

It took months of dating before Javi had been willing to surrender any personal information, any vulnerable thoughts to you. Christ, just learning his father’s name had felt like cracking the Da Vinci code. Instead of talking, whenever he got sad, angry, or upset, he soothed himself by stripping you down, shoving you onto all fours or holding your mouth open between his thumb and index—either one worked just as well. Somewhere down the line, you’d learnt that splitting you open left him more inclined to open up, himself. “Why is it always rough when you’re… unhappy?” It’s a timid question, posed with your cheek laid against his shoulder. First, he asks if you really want to hear the answer. Then, he responds with his eyes closed, shy strokes up and down the length of your spine. “Guess I like the control—feel so fuckin’ out of it when shit gets to me.” You go silent, startled by his honesty. “Does it bother you?” and he sounds nervous, concerned. “No,” you say passionately, ardently. “I like knowing I can help.” Smooth and quick, Javi cups your cheeks, pulling you up to straddle him and laying a fierce kiss at the altar of your swollen lips.

“You single-handedly brought me back to life, baby. Got no fuckin’ clue how much you do for me, every damn day.”

—

TAGLIST: @millllenniawrites @pining-and-tired @inkedells @stardust-chords-enthusiast @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @bookofbee @liviloo12346 @anyas-stuff @readingsunshine97 @maudlinflowers @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @chapterhappygirl @raeluvshammett @silkiers @jupitersmoon-cal @supernaturaldean67 @razrsharpwhiteteeth @peqchsoup @corrodedcherries @hawsx3 @monboudoir @theonewithacrush @pono-pura-vida @sallymilkweed @fruitcupsworld @mads-grace4 @ayehomo

(The rest of the tags will be in a reblog—I don’t want this post to crash b/c of the amount of tags lol).

[pascalsbby]

People Talk

Masterlist

Summary: 2.3k/ f!reader, dark!joel, dbf!joel, brat tamer!joel

“Truth is, he’d been waiting for your mouth to form his name all day. He knew you’d be here, always were on the fourth regardless of what boy you were running around with or what was happening in college. This time you were here for good. Or for a while, until your daddy caught on to your problem.”

Warnings: 18+ mdni, SMUT, age gap, joel masturbating, dominate & aggressive joel, unprotected p in v, slight stalker!joel, pet names, praise kink, dubcon, he talks you through it, tells you what to do- the usual pure filth

Notes: In honor of 420 followers + no work tomorrow, here is a 4th of July, neighbor dbf!joel, quickly written and poorly looked over one shot. Love you!

°:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *₊.• ♡ °:. *₊ ° . ° .• ♡ °:. *₊ ° *

It was entirely too hot to be prancing around outside in that too-tight dress, pretending you missed all your daddy’s other friends- ignoring Joel purposely. Punishing him, swaying those hips towards every other man but him.

Then, you’re bending down to pick up the cornhole bags with no regard to his wandering eyes. Giving the guys hell for throwing them at you while you were walking behind the boards. Wearing red panties, white socks.

You return the bags to who they belong to, and suddenly you’re hanging off Tommy’s collar. Laughing at some dumb joke he’d probably muttered.

He offers you his beer, you take it with a giddy smile. “Oh, Tommy,” you giggled, singing his name.

How fuckin’ rude.

It was Joel’s turn. He’d seen enough of everyone else getting your attention. He walked towards the two of you, catching your gaze and holding it, intensely.

“Hi there, little lady.” Little? Hardly. At least where it mattered. But it slipped out of his mouth, more as a warning to how you were acting than anything else.

“Saved the best for last, did you?” He stepped closer, hand engulfing a beer bottle.

He nudged Tommy, fuck off.

His beard had taken on a tinge of gray, hugging his jawline and accentuating the strong contour beneath it. Wrinkles traced his neck, along with a permanent frown between his eyebrows. His skin was darker than last summer, he’d been outside working on his truck. His crow's feet had deepened with time, age.

"Hey, old man,” you dared step even closer, patting him on the back, “Feelin’ okay? I’ll go get your rocker if you need me to,” you teased.

“Long day for you, almost time for fireworks and then we can tuck ya into bed.” You continued, grinning. He could tell this is the reaction you wanted.

Teasing had always been your nature, kissing his cheek before running your fingernails against his back as you hugged hello, pressing your hips closer to his when saying goodbye. The sighs you would quietly let out as his ear passed your mouth.

You use to leave your blinds slightly ajar at dusk, enticing him to peek through and catch a glimpse of the show you put on, from the comfort of his own home. Most of the time he watched you apply lotion, focusing on your pretty, heavy tits.

A few hours later he’d see you mosey out, around 11pm, rolling and cursing cause it doesn’t turn out like you want it to. You end up smoking it anyways on the back porch.

You never could get your joints to light on the first try, either. Something else he added to his list.

He would watch your shoulders relax, your gaze follow the lightening bugs; the cicadas quiet for the frogs. Then you would dizzily sneak back in.

You started that a few years ago, picking up weed from some ex you’d brought from school one summer.

Joel imagined what your soft insides would feel like completely stoned, fucking in and out of your wetness. Sometimes he’d dip into his stash and smoke after you, using his hands in place of your mouth… your cunt.

It became a habit.

“Joel?” You asked. He stopped imagining your pussy kissing his cock.

Truth is, he’d been waiting for your mouth to form his name all day. He knew you’d be here, always were on the fourth regardless of what boy you were running around with or what was happening in college. This time you were here for good. Or for a while, until your daddy caught on to your problem.

“So you’re nice n’ graduated huh? Pretty and smart. Always knew you were gonna be somethin’,” he smirked. His eyes wandered lower than your lips. This time he didn’t stop. He was starting at your nipples through your dress, poking so pretty against the white material. They’re pierced.

Fuck. That’s new.

“You know what they say,” You leaned into him further, moving higher on your tippy toes to be face to face with him- almost.

“Mm, and what’s that?” He muttered, playfully.

You moved your hair behind your ear, looking deeply into his eyes, welcoming him in.

You want me so bad, he thought.

Then you brake his trance, and answered as if it was your turn to embarrass him. You backed up and talked in a normal-toned voice now.

“I don’t fuckin’ know, you’re the one who told me college wasn’t gonna make me any smarter. Step it up, old man- you’re fallin’ behind.”

God damnit, you were a fucking brat. And he knew it was wrong his cock hardened beneath your smart ass words.

But it didn’t stop him from indulging regardless.

He’d heard stories about you all over town since you got back. It’s been four weeks and you were already making a name for yourself, becoming a town problem.

“‘Ya know Dan’s little girl? A slut, apparently. Sheriff caught ‘er down at the lake with Andrew’s boy, said he’d call her daddy if it happened again.”

Stories of whose son did what to you when. This was a small town, and he knew you knew that.

Before you could pull completely away from him, he walked up beside you and leaned into your ear, tickling your hair falling against it.

“Be more careful who you’re suckin’ dick around, pretty. People talk.” He whispered.

You huffed at him, ready to protest but he continued, “Wouldn’t want your daddy knowin’, would ya?”

Embarrassment reddened your cheeks, eyes faltering with surprise for a moment.

“Mr. Miller, if you wanted to fuck me, you should have just asked.” You dared, saying it loud enough to make his entire body stiffen, he looks around to see if anyone heard. Then he shakes with anger at how fuckin’ stupid you’re being. No one else heard over the chattering and screaming kids, throwing snap pop fireworks onto the shimmering concrete.

Now would be a good time to teach her a lesson. No one’s listenin’ to the loud noises around them, all engulfed in their own happenings. No one would be lookin’ for her.

He’d had enough of you trying to put his reputation on the line. He reaches out, snags your arm and pulls you closer to him, forcing you to walk by his side towards the house. His body heat is radiating off of you.

It’s better he teaches you now, rather than someone else worse down the line.

“We’re gonna go inside and you’re gonna let me teach you somethin’,” he says through his teeth, leaning down into your ear, “first thing you’re gonna learn is silence, baby. Don’t say a fuckin’ word while you bend over that bed for me.” He pointed his eyes towards you with a nod. “Got it?”

He waited for confirmation.

“Oh sure, Joel,” you mocked, “whatever you want.”

“You’re just not gettin’ it are you?” He spat.

-

He’s pulling you up the stairs now, back door slamming. Everyone’s out back getting ready for the fireworks, setting out blankets and calming the children. There isn’t much light to see who is missing and who isn’t.

In front of you are Joel’s broad shoulders, left arm hanging behind him as his biceps flex from dragging you with him. He looks impending, massive, from the view you have a couple stairs down.

His grip stings, your hand starting to lose feeling. He hasn’t said a word the entire time you two have been in the house. Grunting here and there at the weight of you, not letting you move at your own pace.

The fun was gone.

“You’re scaring me, Joel.”

“Good, pretty girl. Someone needs to.”

He knows the exact path to your room, and he takes you there before busting the door open and throwing you inside behind him. He closes the door with one push of his arm.

The release of his grip knocks you to the floor in front of your bed. You catch yourself, wincing in the thud your body had made.

He didn’t apologize for it, he didn’t even help you up. He put his back against the corner of the room and was looking at you, waiting, arms crossed behind his back.

He wanted you to bend over.

His breathing was heavy and his eyes set a little lower, darker. You got up on your knees, facing him. Face red, your tears were starting to form out aggravation of how Joel was treating you, but also the tickle in your mound.

You locked eyes with him, shuffling close enough to him to reach out and unbuckle his belt. He let out a breathy chuckle, laughing at how pathetic you look- compared to your confidence from earlier.

You did what he asked, demanded, and stood up to bend yourself over your childhood bed. You spread your legs, allowing the air to hit your pussy, then your tight ring of muscle before he spit down on it, turning hour over so you’re on your back, centering himself to you.

“That’s right. Let me feel it, pretty.”

He didn’t even do you the favor of one finger to stretch you out a little. He sheathed himself into completely.

“Squeeze. Uh huh, just like that,” his mouth is barely open, in awe, looking down at you.

“I want you to watch me fuck you, okay? Can you do that?” His tone was sweeter, yet more condescending.

You lift your head, peering down at your angled body as your lips spread to suck him in, over and over and over.

“J..Joel, please.” You begged, gasping for reprise.

“It’s so much, I know. But look at you, sweet thing, you’re taking it so well. Stretching yourself on my cock so, so good.”

You pathetically whimper back. Words had left you minutes ago. And that was okay with you. Joel was taking what he wanted from you, but you wanted it just as much. So you shut up and took it.

“I know, I know, pretty girl. Shhhh,” he coos, shoving himself into you. He’s so fucking big, you’d never felt this much pressure inside of you before. You throw your arms against his chest as high as you can stretch them, trying to push him away, overwhelmed by him. Overstimulated from the depth of his cock and the tickle of his calloused fingers, running circles around your throbbing nerves.

A cry escapes your lips, and he takes it as a cry of want rather than pain.

He grabs both of your wrists in one hand then hits you. Your jaw slacks the same as your head as it fall one way. He reaches out and rubs your cheek, holding your head in his hand.

“I said be quiet, did I not? I knew this would be too much for you. No wonder the entire town knows who you’re fuckin’- they can hear you.”

Your cunt fluttered and then slowly dripped release against him.

You start to argue, no, beg for him to slow down a little. His frame is lit from the orange hued streetlights on the street below, his hair falling into his face, disheveled from how he was moving his body.

The sun was almost set when you two had come in, providing some light, but no one turned on a light. No one outside could see in. That wasn’t enough to promise this would stay hidden.

Joel drops your head and puts his palm over your gasping mouth.

His grunts above you are guttural. Joel throws his shoulders back, his head following. Fuck, it’s been so long. And you… you had decided you wanted to tease him with the neighborhood boys, with his brother.

“‘N you think any of those boys down there are gonna touch you like this?” Satisfaction filled your gut as he sat you up, holding him your arms so that the tip of his cock could kiss you deeper, and suddenly you’re finding it hard to keep the smirk off your face.

You knew you’d piss him off, hanging around Tommy like that. Looking at him like that. Bending down in front of him, taunting him while Joel stood on the side of the yard.

He noticed your grin. Oh, he hadn’t fucked it out of you yet.

“Daddy would be so sad to know that he raised a fucking slut. But that’s okay baby, I’m gonna teach you how to be a good southern bell. That’s just what you need, ain’t it?”

You didn’t answer him in time, too busy looking at your shaking thighs, burning and tired as his length stretched you further every time he pulled out and slammed back in again. You, creamy and white against his cock.

He reached out and grabbed your throat, shaking your head yes for him. “There you go. Yes.”

His grip tightened at the base of your throat, pushing out ungodly sounds until your stomach bursts with fire.

Your eyes roll back into your head, bitting your lip so hard that you can taste a familiar metallic taste. You went limp for a moment, taking what Joel had to give you.

“Tommy, I-“ You started to beg him, assure him nothing was going on between you two. You started the sentence with the wrong name.

“Did you cum so hard you forgot who was filling this pussy up? Stop saying his fuckin’ name,” he growled, pushing your face into the bed.

You stopped trying to talk and instead melted further into the feeling of Joel.

“Another thing we gotta teach you is knowin’ who you belong to.”

[heartpascalispunk]

💖💖💖

[talaok]

Steve will kill me

Pairing: Javier Peña x Steve's daughter! reader

Warnings: age-gap, smut | unprotected p in v sex, slight choking

toc toc

A knock at the door.

"oh hi, dad" you greeted, opening the door.

"Hi honey" he answered, as your gaze traveled to the man beside him,

not just any man, you noted 

"and hello to you too..." you raised an eyebrow questioningly

"right, sorry you haven't met" Your dad interrupted "This is Javier Peña, my partner, I invited him over for dinner"

"nice to meet you" he smiled, offering his hand 

"nice to meet you too, I'm Y/n" you shook it, loving the feeling of his big hand around yours.

"Your dad's always talking of you" he said

"good things I hope" you smiled, inviting them in and closing the door.

"Of course"

__ __ __

"so what are you studying?"

"English literature"

"wow" he puffed "serious stuff"

"says the DEA agent" you raised an eyebrow, as you propped an elbow on the top of the couch to look at him better.

Your dad had gone to help your mom in the kitchen, leaving you two alone, something you didn't mind not one bit.

"touchè" he chuckled

" So how do you like college?"

"it's ok" you shrugged " I love my classes, just... there's other things I'm not that fond of"

"Like what?"

"Like the guys"

He smirked knowingly " Well a pretty girl like you... I bet you have a whole line of them"

pretty, you let your mind replay that word again and again

You laughed softly " Yeah, and they all seem to only want one thing"

Well, you can't blame them, he wanted to say.

"That's because they're boys sweetheart," he said instead

You cocked an eyebrow "So, you're saying I should find a man?" you asked, loving the veil of darkness that flashed behind his eyes.

He cleared his throat.

Nope, not doing this.

"I'm saying there's someone out there for everyone"

yeah, sure

"and have you found this someone?"

"Haven't been so lucky yet"

"that's too bad" you commented, not an ounce of sincerity in your tone.

He noticed the mischief in your irides and felt the instant need to change the topic.

"your dad says you write poetry"

Maybe talking about your dad was gonna help fight the magnetic force pulling him closer to you

"he does!?" 

"He's really proud of you," he said "he even read one to me"

"oh my god," you hid your face in your hands, red streaks of embarrassment reaching your cheeks.

"it was amazing" he spoke "even if Steve was the one reading it"

You snorted, and he couldn't help but smile as he reached for your hands to remove them from your beautiful face.

"one of the best things I've ever heard"

"you're just saying that" 

His hands were still on you 

"I'm not"

you bit your lip, and he couldn't stop his eyes from falling to your mouth.

"thank you" you murmured 

"I'd love to read more" he found himself leaning closer

"and what would I get?" 

anything you want, he was about to stop himself from saying, when Steve entered the room. He dropped your hands and immediately leaned away.

__ __ __

You spent the entire dinner pretending not to notice his eyes on you and had to stop yourself from granting him the same treatment.

Your eyes met at last, and your lips twitched into a smile he wanted to photograph and keep in his pocket forever.

God, what was wrong with him?

" Should I get the cake?" you asked, looking briefly at him, before turning to your mom

"Sure hon, I'll help you"

"no it's fine I can handle it" you stopped her, walking over to the kitchen.

You grabbed a knife from the drawer, hearing the soft buzz of the conversation in the other room.

The cake was on the table, so you set the plates before it and started cutting the slices.

The door opened.

"can't keep away from me huh?" You joked as Javier entered.

"I needed another beer" he gestured to the empty one in his hand

"Sure you did" you taunted

He opened the fridge, grabbing a new one.

"Can I have a sip?"

"Are you old enough?"

You gasped, feigning offense "of course I am," you said "In fact" you took the bottle from his hand "I'm old enough to do a lot of things"

He watched attentively how your lips wrapped around the mouth of the bottle as you drank from it.

"you shouldn't say things like that sweetheart"

You grinned "why is that?"

"one might take them the wrong way"

"what if it's the way I intended for one to take them?" you asked, taking a step so you were right in front of him.

"then you really shouldn't"

"Are you scared of what might happen?" you asked, "you scared you might not be able to stop yourself?"

"is that it?"

I can't do this, he thought 

"I can't do this"

Steve would kill me

"do what?" you whispered, as your finger traced his tie

You could see the restraint in his eyes as they scanned your face.

You weren't going to make the first move, you wanted him to cave, to give up.

"Well," you spoke "I better get back to the cake"

"wanna help me out?"

__ __ __

toc toc

shit

toc toc toc

I'm coming, god!

you fumbled with the lock, your hands still slippery from the shower.

"One second dad, I was in the show-"

"oh" Javier breathed

"oh hi," you smiled "sorry, I thought you were my dad"

You opened the door fully now, watching as your dad's partner's gaze traveled slowly up and down your body, only covered by a milk-white towel.

"Is there a reason you came here except getting to stare at me?"

He cleared his throat, forcing his eyes to look back at yours.

"I need to talk with your dad about something"

"he's not home"

"When will he be back?"

"I don't know"

There was a pause as you both thought of what to do next.

"you can wait for him here if you want"

"I don't think I should"

"c'mon I'm sure whatever's going on is important, otherwise you wouldn't have come here"

He was thinking, he had a thinking face you noticed, the same one he had in the kitchen the other night.

"alright," he finally agreed, knowing full well he was making a mistake.

"so what did you need to talk to him about?" you asked, closing the door behind him.

"Just work stuff"

"of course" you chuckled

"you want a beer?" you asked

"sure"

Is she not going to change? He thought as he followed you to the kitchen.

You took a sip from it before passing him the bottle

"you don't like drinking your own beer?"

"I need to check if it's good" you smiled "plus, this way it's as if we kissed"

He smirked,

walked right into that one

"so when are you going back to college?"

"Can't wait to get rid of me?" 

"Just curious sweetheart"

"next week"

next week, that's good, he could make it 'till next week, though the outfit really wasn't helping.

"about that" you remembered "last night you said you wanted to read more of my poetries"

"of course, you're really talented"

"thank you" you blushed faintly,

that was your weak spot, he realized, the one moment when the confidence act fell was when he talked of your passion.

"well if you're still up for that I can show you now"

"that'd be great"

"great" you grinned "come, I should have an old notebook in my room"

He paused

"in your room?"

"yes, Javier, in my room, is there something wrong with that?"

yes,

"no" he said unconvincingly 

"ok, then follow me"

__ __ __

Your old room was, as said, old.

Posters still filled the light pink walls, as did your high school photos.

Javier felt like an intruder for stepping in there, and thinking about it, he was, he never should have come into the house.

"here," you said, pointing at something on a shelf above your desk.

Your towel inched upward as you reached for the notebook.

He didn't even try not to stare.

"I want to point out that this is old stuff," you said " I was young when I wrote these and I've gotten better" you explained, turning some pages.

"Oh I like this one" you beamed, "I wrote it when I was 17"

He stepped closer to you, your scent intoxicating him immediately.

You had just gotten out of the shower, but something about it was still unmistakably you.

You handed him the notebook, and he attentively read the whole thing.

"what do you think?" you asked, after some moments

"you wrote this at 17?"

"yep"

"How?" he was in shock "I mean, you've got a real talent sweetheart"

"the only thing I was good at 17 was drooling over girls"

You laughed softly "then you didn't change much, did you?"

"Maybe I didn't"

"Well, you can keep reading through that if you want, I'm gonna go change"

thank god, he thought as you walked to the bathroom.

"javier!" he heard you call him from the bathroom after a few moments.

"yes?"

"I'm sorry I forgot my pants, could you bring them to me?"

"uh, sure, where are they?"

"they're somewhere in the room I don't remember"

"ok" he said, as he looked around 

"I don't see them"

"they're not on the desk?"

"nope"

"bed?"

"neither" he answered "maybe they're in-"

"whatever" you opened the bathroom before he could finish, stepping out of it in a very short shirt, and some very red panties.

fuck

You started walking around the room like it was nothing.

"how is it possible they just disappeared?" you asked yourself.

"y/n"

"I mean unless there'd ghosts I don't understand"

"y/n"

"yes?" you walked right in front of him "you sure you haven't seen them?"

You watched as he slowly swallowed.

"baby" his voice was hoarse "you can't do this to me"

You frowned "do what?"

" you're killing me"

"Javi," you placed a hand on his arm "I don't know what you're talking about"

"stop that," he said "Steve will kill me"

You bit your lip, done with your little act "And what makes you think he'd have to know?"

He sighed 

"I don't see anyone else here" you looked around "just me and you Javi" you grinned "you decide what happens next"

He never had much of a choice, did he?

"fuck me" he cursed under his breath, and just like that, his lips were on yours.

He grabbed your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him, and your arms flew behind his neck.

The faint taste of beer still lingered on his lips, and his mustache was gently grazing your upper lip.

As his hands started exploring your back, the kiss got more heated, his tongue moving into your mouth violently, as one of his hands found your ass.

You whimpered into the kiss, and you broke apart to catch your breath.

"this is a mistake" he breathed

"then why does it feel so good?" you asked, not waiting for an answer before going back in.

He turned you around, starting to walk towards the bed.

Once the back of your legs felt the mattress, you took the hint to sit on it.

He looked at you, under him, your lips fluffy and pink, and wished he had the willpower to stop, as all he could do was take his shirt off.

He bent down to you and you crawled onto the bed.

he helped you out of your shirt and groaned as he took in your bare tits.

"fuck you really wanna torture me huh?" he asked, starting to spread hot kisses all over your neck and chest.

"I tried to refrain but you made it fucking impossible baby" he murmured, his fingers finding the waistband of your panties.

"you were so determined to break me" he laughed softly "and you did" he admitted, pulling your panties off of you.

"Please Javi I need you" you begged, your voice already a faint moan.

"you need me?" he asked, leaning back to undo his zipper and take off his pants.

"yes I need you please" you whimpered

"since when?"

"Since I first saw you"

You felt his cock lining up to your entrance.

"that right, sweetheart?"

"yes Javi, yes!" you said desperately

"fuck you're gonna kill me" he muttered, pushing into you.

"Oh god!" you moaned loudly, your hand gripping his bicep.

"fuck baby" he groaned "you're squeezing me so tight" 

He started to move, and you felt your brain melt already.

he felt so good, the only thing you could do was moan and whimper as he picked up his pace.

"fuck- when you opened the door with that tiny towel on, it took everything in me not to tear it off of you and fuck you right there baby" he growled, "you think that was funny?" he asked "torturing me like that?" he continued, his dick so deep inside of you you could feel every little detail of it against your walls.

"You think it was funny to come out here half naked?" he said "to show that little ass off like it's nothing" his hand found your throat "like I haven't been thinking of it since I first saw you" his fingers squeezed lightly on the sides of your neck.

"say you're sorry sweetheart" he commanded "say you're sorry"

Your brain was only half functioning, as the feeling of his hand around your throat and of his cock hitting your spot with each thrust were incredibly distracting, but you still managed to do as told.

"I'm-I'm sorry" you whispered pathetically

"that's it" he bent down to kiss your neck, as his hand left it "good girl"

He felt your walls squeeze him at the praise, and could only chuckle like a smug bastard in response.

"you like that?" he mocked "you like being called a good girl?"

You nodded, as another moan fled your mouth.

"god baby, what would your dad think?" he shook his head "what would he think if he knew her good little girl likes to be called names and fucked senseless by guys twice her age?"

"He would be so shocked, poor guy" he smirked, as he grabbed your waist to slam even more harshly into you.

"fuck Javi" your nails were definitely leaving scratches on his arms at this point

"what baby?"

"Please, I-I'm coming "

"I can feel it" he groaned "I can feel you squeezing me sweetheart"

"Javi" you moaned again

"c'mon baby" he encouraged "come for me" he breathed, getting closer too "come like the good girl you are"

Those words were enough to send you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you like a wave of pure bliss.

He kept going, letting you ride out your high, as you moaned his name over and over more incoherently.

"that's it" he kept saying "that's it, baby" he growled, and just before he was about to come, he pulled out, his cold cum shooting all over your belly.

He looked at you, breathing heavily underneath him, completely ruined, completely perfect, and he couldn't help but smile.

"What?" you asked, smiling too now

"I don’t think I'll ever be able to look at your dad in the face again"

[sofiaispunk]

Masterlist

Joel Miller

dbf!Joel Miller x Reader - He's your dads best friend, he's 20 years older than you, he's married but he's the man you desire the most...

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | (…)

The Bakery Crush

Part 1 | Part 2 | Bonus Chapter

Drabble - The morning after

Javier Peña

The Space Cowboy and his Ladybug: A Laredo homecoming story

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Final Part

Francisco "Frankie" Morales

Sacret Temptations - Hot priest Morales request AU

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Western Nights.

You don't expect to bump into your dad's best friend Javier in a church basement on the outskirts of town. You also didn't expect to fall in love with him. Life seems to be full of surprises - and Javier was the biggest surprise of all.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Javier Peña x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 3.6k

Warnings - cursing. sexual content at the end. talk and themes of PTSD. brief mention of domestic abuse. several mentions of panic attacks. age gap (but all very legal and consensual). smut in future chapters.

Author's Note - it's finally here!! i've had this idea for so long and i'm so glad to finally put pen to paper. the dads best friend trope is one of my biggest weaknesses and javier peña is my favourite character ever, so naturally this was born. this fic will tackle some topics that may be a little tough for some people, so make sure to read the warnings!! can't wait to get this up on its feet and running, and for javi and peaches story to develop <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! <3

Masterlist. Requests.

Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Healing isn't linear. Recovery is a journey. This is a choice I have to make. No one else can make it for me.

You're repeating reassurances to yourself in your mind as you descend the stairs to the basement.

It's dimly lit, and it takes your eyes a minute to adjust. When they do, you're able to make out an old, heavy, oak wood lectern at the front of the room. Rows of flimsy plastic chairs are set almost as an audience, and tables line the edges. The carpet is worn, beige, and stained, the entire space smelling like must and bad coffee. You wonder how many girls like you have stepped foot in here in the past.

You pull the sleeves of your sweater down over your wrists and stick to the back wall, willing yourself to become invisible. Watching as people mill in slowly, you take a deep, steadying breath. In for 4. Hold for 4. Out for 6.

"Hi!" a middle aged, dyed blonde, motherly woman screeches at you. The cadence of her voice makes you jump.

"Sorry, sweetpea! Didn't mean to scare you," she looks you up and down before continuing. "You're new here, ain't ya?"

Her southern accent, albeit very high pitched, is somewhat comforting. It's something familiar in this room full of the unknown.

"Yeah," you just about manage to choke out.

She surveys you again, this time with no judgment. You realise she's just trying to figure you out, as you are her.

"If you need anything, just come find me. I'm Primrose."

You smile gently at the floral moniker, and decide that Primrose might be some much needed support. Her motherly aura was calming you ever so slightly.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, if we could all talk a seat, that'd be fantastic."

A tall, curly haired man - who can't be more than 30 - wearing a name tag sticker that reads 'Tobias' has taken his place behind the lectern, gesturing at everyone to sit down. You pick a chair near the back, slouching down and ducking your head.

"Wonderful. Hi, everyone."

A chorus of hellos echoes around the room, everyone clearly used to this routine.

"For anyone who's new here, I'm Tobias, but everyone calls me Tobi. I've been a Priest for the last five years, and I've been running this group for the last two. Usually, how it works is that we get a few people to come up and speak through their experiences."

Your chest tightens, and you have to remind yourself to keep breathing. As if he sees your panic, Tobi continues.

"Most people find that being able to talk freely and without judgment is a useful coping mechanism. PTSD is complex, and it isn't something that can ever be fully 'cured' - but we can find ways to make things easier. You're in a room full of ladies and gentlemen that might not understand your experience, but definitely understand your feelings."

He catches your eyes across the depth of the room and smiles gently. You muster up the strength to smile back cautiously, and he nods before speaking again.

"Some just come here to listen. Others find it beneficial to talk. No one is going to pressure you, judge you, or scald you. This is a safe space. Share as much or as little as you'd like. Okay?"

Everyone nods and murmurs in agreement. Tobi seems to have a way of reassuring the entire room without really trying. He's calming, tender hearted, genuine. You like him already.

"Who wants to start?"

Primrose shoots up out of her chair on the front row and makes her way to the front. Tobi squeezes her shoulder as she passes, and she beams at him.

"Hi, y'all! I'm Primrose."

The room is clearly familiar with the blonde ball of excitement. Everyone yells greetings at her, her energy almost infectious.

"Most of you know my story, but just in case you don't -"

Her eyes flit to you briefly, and she smiles. You half smile back, relaxing slightly.

"I was in a marriage where I suffered domestic abuse. He used to hit me, manipulate me, call me names. You think it, he did it."

She takes a breath, putting the smile back on her face where it's faltered.

"I have some news to share. I'm engaged!"

A few people jump out of their seats to hug her, congratulating her with pats on the back and yelled excitement.

"Thank y'all, thank y'all! I couldn't wait to tell you guys. I just... I never thought that I could ever be happy again. I certainly never thought that I'd ever find the courage to be with another man, after everything. But I've found someone amazing. And he treats me like a queen. So, to anyone who's new here - it is possible. I promise you. Y'all better help me pick out a dress!"

The room erupts into applause, and Primrose smiles so bright you're surprised the lights don't shatter.

After Primrose, an elderly man named Walter takes the stage. He explains his experience in the military, and the trauma and violence he witnessed for years. You learn that he's a recovering alcoholic, who wasn't had a drink for 9 years. He shakes slightly where he stands, leaning against the cane in his hand. You can tell he's lived through hell.

Finally, after Walter, Tobi stands at the lectern. He's the sole survivor of a car accident that killed his two best friends. After struggling to cope, he turned to God, and became a Priest to better help people just like him in his community. He speaks with such ease, such grace. A wave of calm sweeps over the room as everyone listens intently.

He checks the brown leather strapped watch on his right wrist before clicking his tongue.

"Well, folks, that's all the time we have for today! Feel free to stick around and chat to each other, as always. There's coffee and cookies on the table, and Janet made some of her famous honey loaf too. Thanks for coming. Same time next week?"

Everyone agrees in shouts and thumbs up directed towards the front. Slowly, people rise, stacking their chairs away before making their way over to the table where the coffee sits next to the styrofoam cups.

You remain seated for a little longer, catching your breath. Your teeth are digging into your bottom lip, knawing at it anxiously. You suddenly taste pennies, and lick up the blood quickly with your tongue.

Standing up shakily, you fold your chair at its hinges and add it to the stack at the front of the room. A yawn overtakes you, tiredness suddenly settling into your bones.

Coffee. You need coffee.

You make your way over to the tables, timidly smiling at Primrose as she shows off her ring to a small group of people. Just as you reach over and grab an empty cup, you become suddenly aware of a presence behind you.

"Don't drink that."

A warm, rich, booming voice hits your ears. The large, looming presence comes a little closer, towering over you.

"Trust me, honey. It's the worst coffee you'll ever taste in your life."

You know that voice, it's familiar timbre.

Javier Peña.

You turn around to be met with the sight of him peering down at you intently. He's wearing a flannel and blue jeans, heavy boots on his feet. He smells like musk, sandalwood, and the Texan heat.

God, he looks good. He's strikingly handsome. Objectively attractive. Everyone in your town agrees that Javier Peña is one beautiful man.

And seemingly unattainable. Since leaving Lorraine at the altar years ago, no one has heard any word of Javier so much as dating.

"Such a waste," your mom always says. "Gorgeous man like that. He could have anyone he wants!"

And it's true. Chocolate hair, broad shoulders, strong thighs. The man is a heartthrob.

A heartthrob with a secret, apparently.

"Javier?" you question. "What are you doing here?"

It's now you realise that he's here. At the meeting. You've done such a good job of keeping your head down, going relatively unnoticed. And now, staring down at you, is your dad's best friend. So much for covert.

He must see the realisation on your face. Or maybe he notices the way your breathing quickens. Either way, he places a warm palm on your shoulder, looking at you carefully.

"Hey. It's okay," he reassures. "I won't tell if you won't."

You nod meekly, trying to stay calm. In for 4, hold for 4, out for 6.

The basement suddenly feels too small, too dark, too stuffy. The carpet is too scratchy, the chairs too hard, the table too white. You need to get out before your chest caves in.

"You know, if you still want coffee, there's a diner like ten minutes from here. They do really good pie," Javier tells you, distracting you from your impending panic attack.

You take a breath and nod.

"Yeah. Okay. I like pie."

"Come on," he encourages, gesturing at you to lead the way. "Walk with me."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You and Javier walk steadily side by side in silence, fingers occasionally accidentally brushing each other. After it happens twice, you decide to put your hands in your pockets the rest of the way, ignoring the warmth that radiates off him.

You eventually arrive at Cherry Pie Diner. The neon sign is blinding, shades of bright pink, yellow and blue flashing and flickering. Inside, the white overhead lights illuminate classic red leather booth seats and waitresses in pinafore aprons.

"Here we are. When you go in, ask for JoJo. She'll take care of you," he winks.

You stand stuck in your place on the sidewalk for a minute, processing his words.

"You're not coming in?"

He seems taken aback by your question. Now he's the one processing.

"You... uh - you want me to?"

"I, uh, yeah. I mean... if you're not busy... I just, uh - nevermind. Sorry. Forget I said anything."

"I didn't want to overstep, you know, it, uh- But if it's okay with you... I could do with some coffee."

Javier smiles at you gently, gauging your reaction. When you smile back hesitantly, he pushes open the door to the diner, gesturing at you to head inside.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"What looks good, honey?"

You raise your eyes from the menu you were staring at intently to quirk your brow at Javier.

"Hmm?"

"I asked if anything looked good," he repeats kindly.

"I, um, I'm not sure. What do you recommend?"

"The peach pie," he says without hesitation.

The quick response makes you laugh, the melody of it tugging at Javier's heart strings. He realises, sadly, that he hasn't heard that sound in a hell of a long time.

"Listen, I know it's not anyone's go to," he justifies, "but it's honestly the best thing on the menu. There's nothin' like it."

"Okay," you say with complete certainty. "Peach pie it is."

JoJo is a bubbly, Southern woman with rosy cheeks and a smile that never seems to falter. She takes your orders happily, flirting with Javier like you weren't sat watching, confusion and awkwardness plastered across your face.

"You two seem close," you approach gently, trying to make conversation.

"Yeah, I know her husband. JoJo's been serving me here for at least 10 years. Peach pie, every time," he laughs.

"I'm usually a cherry pie girl. Maybe you'll convert me."

You both sip steadily at your coffees, humming in contentment at your first bites of pie. Halfway through your slice, you break the silence.

"Okay, fine. This might be the best pie I've ever had."

"I told you," he smirks. "I'll never lead you wrong, honey. Promise. Not where pie is concerned, anyway."

You finish off your slices in comfortable quiet, neither of you quite sure what to say next.

"So, uh... about tonight..." you begin nervously.

"I won't tell anyone I saw you, cariño. I swear."

You breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Javi. Really."

Javi. The nickname so rarely used, it makes his heart stutter for a second.

"You're... you're not gonna ask what I was doing at that meeting?"

He tilts his head slightly, gazing at you carefully before replying.

"If you wanted to tell me, you would. I'm not gonna push you. These things take time."

He smiles like he knows. You think, maybe, he does.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, sweetheart."

A breath. In for 4, hold for 4, out for 6.

"Was that your first meeting too?"

He shakes his head, soft curls rippling.

"I've been going for a few months. I sneak out of town every week, so I'm pretty sure Chucho thinks I'm having a secret love affair. He doesn't ask questions."

You both laugh, and JoJo's head whips up, her curiosity peaked. She's never heard Javier laugh like this. Sure, he chuckles at her jokes, but the sound doesn't usually reach the corners of the room like that.

"He'd probably love it if you were, you know. Your love life is often a topic of conversation in my house, among many others in our neighbourhood."

He scoffs, and kicks your foot under the table teasingly.

"Man, nothing happens in that damn town, does it?"

"Nothing at all. Think we're overdue a secret love affair from you, Mr Peña. It might liven things up a little."

"Shut it, you," he chuckles, rolling his eyes.

You pull the sleeves of your sweater back down over your wrists again.

"I haven't seen you in a while. Think my dad is starting to get worried, you know."

A deep crease appears between his brows abruptly, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah. I've just been busy, I guess. Tryna sort my shit out," he snickers dryly, no real humour in it.

"So did you do it?"

"Hmm?"

"Sort your shit out?"

Now he laughs genuinely, bright smile gracing his cheeks.

"Absolutely fucking not."

"Man, I know the feeling," you reassure.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Your breathing speeds up slightly, eyes darting around the room. Javier notices, reaching across the booth to grab your hand. He intertwines his fingers with yours, thumb rubbing comforting patterns on your skin. You take a deep breath. In for 4, hold for 4, out for 6.

"I feel like... like I'm... uh...," he nods at you reassuringly, squeezing your hand a little tighter. "I feel like I'm drowning. I'm barely keeping my head above water at any given moment. And I'm tired, Javi. Fuck, I'm tired."

A warm, salty tear escapes you, running down your cheek. Javi leans forward and brushes it away with his thumb, big brown eyes never leaving yours.

"It's okay, cariño. You're okay," he murmurs. "I get it. God, I get it."

"You do?" you sniffle.

"I do," he confirms. "More than you could ever know. And I know how lonely it feels. But I promise you, sweetheart. You're not alone. Not anymore."

His voice is like warm honey, soothing and golden. It melts into you, releases some of the tension from your shoulders. The tightness in your chest loosens slightly, and you take a deep breath. You find the courage to look at him again, and find that he hasn't taken his eyes off you once. His gaze is like an anchor, tethering you to reality. You surprise yourself by not wanting to shy away from the intensity of it. No, you want more.

Javier lets go of your hand to trace his fingertips up your forearm. He draws patterns carefully, as if he's learning every inch of you, committing you to memory. Like he isn't sure when he'll get to touch you like this again. If he'll get to touch you like this again.

You're still looking at each other, neither of you gathering the courage to look away. It's as if Javi is reading the words off the very surface of your soul. You're not sure you've ever felt so understood in your life. It terrifies you.

Without thinking, you grab a hold of Javier's hand and raise it to your lips, kissing each of his knuckles gently. The tenderness makes his heart ache.

"Hermosa," he sighs almost wistfully.

The sound of his voice snaps you back to the present moment.

"I'm sorry," you stutter, letting go of him. "Fuck, Javi, sorry. I don't - oh, I... fuck."

"Why do you do it?" he asks.

"Do... do what?"

"Apologise for everything. Every other word out of your mouth is 'sorry'," he chuckles affectionately.

"Sorry," you mumble without thinking. You pause, registering your words. The two of you break out into laughter, clutching at your stomachs.

"Are you?"

"Am I...?"

"Are you sorry? Or do you just say it because you think people want to hear it? You can't apologise for your entire existence, cariño."

You look into those warm, chocolate eyes, and realise he's read you for filth. He's right.

"I'm not sorry," you whisper.

He quirks a brow and nods attentively, urging you to continue.

"For... for what I just did. I'm not sorry."

You're praying that he understands what you're trying to say. I'm not sorry for my tender gesture. I'm not sorry for this connection we've made. I'm not sorry for my soft heart.

"I'm not either," he replies, barely above a murmur. You hear him, clear as day.

You reach out, this time, and interlock your fingers with his across the table. His large hand envelopes yours, and he squeezes. It effects you more than it probably should.

JoJo drops a plate behind the counter, the red and white china shattering across the checkerboard floor. The smash snaps you both out of the moment, making you jump. Your heart kicks into overdrive, battering against your ribcage.

"Hermosa, it's alright. Just a plate."

You hear him, but your nervous system doesn't seem to want to cooperate. Your breaths become laboured and frantic, and your hold on Javi's hand tightens almost painfully.

"Come on, Peaches, let's get out of here. It's getting late."

Javier stands from his bench seat and pulls you up with him, never once removing his fingers from where they're locked with yours. He shoots a smile over to JoJo, who returns it with glee. The two of you walk across the parking lot, hand in hand, illuminated by the neon light of the diner's sign. The colours dance across Javier's cheekbones, reflecting off the brush of his mustache, painting the rich brown warmth of his hair. He's never looked more handsome.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Peaches."

"Hmm?" Javier asks from where he's leaning against the side of your car, back in the church parking lot.

"You called me Peaches. In the diner."

He nods, smirk etched on his streetlit face.

"Because of the pie."

"Because of the pie," he echoes.

"I like it," you confess quietly. "Peaches."

Javier pushes off the vehicle and stands, towering over you. Without a second thought, he brushes a thumb over your cheekbone in a featherlight touch.

"Sweet like peaches," he murmurs. "Too fuckin' sweet for a world like this one."

You look up at him, breath catching in your throat when you meet his eyes. He's gazing at you with adoration. With tenderness. With so much softness. Your knees go weak with the weight of it all.

It hits you, suddenly. The realisation.

You want to kiss him.

You want to kiss Javier Peña.

You want to kiss him more than you've ever wanted to kiss anyone in your entire life.

You're stood in the parking lot of a church on the outskirts of town with your dad's best friend and you're feeling the closest thing to happy you've felt in months.

You take a step forward, closing the gap between you. The warmth radiating from the older man settles itself in your bones, shielding you from the chill of the night. Just as you tilt your face up towards his, your phone buzzes.

Jumping apart as if you've been caught, you check your messages with shaky hands.

"It's my mom. She thinks I'm with a friend, so she's just checking in. She doesn't like it when I drive in the dark."

The mention of your mother snaps Javier out of his peachy haze.

"You should get back, cariño. It's late. Sorry for keeping you."

"Now who's apologising for no reason?"

He laughs, and you feel like you've won a gold medal. An achievement in its own right.

You climb into the drivers seat of your car, starting up the engine. Just as you're about to leave, Javi taps on the window. You roll it down.

"Same time next week, Peaches?"

"Same time next week, Javi."

You drive away with a smile on your face and a warmth in your stomach, the taste of peach still lingering on your lips. You notice that Javier drives behind you steadily, following you carefully to make sure you get home safe.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're staring at the ceiling.

You're plagued by insomnia.

According to the Internet, it goes hand in hand with your PTSD. You make a mental note to work up the courage to ask Tobi about it in the next meeting.

You lie in bed, watching as the sunlight slowly illuminates the room. Usually, you'll make a cup of tea, read a book, watch a TV show. Pace around the room like a caged animal. Count sheep. Do yoga. Listen to music.

Tonight, you take a different approach.

Tonight, you slip a hand under the waistband of your underwear, and replay the way Javi murmured your name in the diner on repeat.

It does the trick.

@frogers @farintonorth @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @pedrobaby @grace46 @harriedandharassed

[vivian-pascal]

hey everyone! this is my official Masterlist! I will be putting all my works here and pinning it for any new friends :)

Joel Miller🌿

Bloody Mess series- vampire!joel

Rainy days series-dbf!joel

Summer Love series-dbf!joel

Strawberry Cakes-husband!joel

When you call my name, I won't answer-stranger!joel

Snap out of it-dom!joel

I Don't Love You Anymore-heartbreak!joel

Sweet Whiskey-dbf!joel

Riddle Me This, Cowboy-joel x tess drabble

But Daddy I Love Him-dbf!joel

Javier Pena🚬

Temptations-sub!javier

Sandy Winds-bf!javier

Dieter Bravo🍃

Hands on Hands-soft!dieter

Unique-footfetish!dieter

Dave York 💼

You won't-bf!dave

[pedrostylez]

Not A Lot Of Time

pairing: dbf!Javierxfem!reader

summary/authors note: Once again, just smut. I can't really explain beyond I've had this idea about Javi and reader sneaking around behind reader's dad's back... potential for it to be a series buuuuttttt who knows. Anyways, :)

rating: 18+ (no minors please)

word count: 1.3k

warnings etc: smut, dirty talk, drinking mentioned, sneaking around, oral, fingering, spanking. NO USE OF Y/N.

You hadn’t really ever thought about sneaking into your own house after leaving for a party. But your dad needed to be oblivious. It wasn’t that hard in the end. 

You gave Javi this look that he had become familiar with, watching you step into your car, skirt riding up just enough that he wasn’t imagining much anymore. Your taillights are bright as you break down the hill, turning the corner into the road and seemingly away to your party. 

But Javi was waiting in the bathroom for you, holding you under your arms and giving your butt a small smack to make you giggle, sliding in through the window at the back of the house where the extra bathroom was. “Are they drunk enough?” You ask breathlessly, looking in the mirror to fix your hair. 

“Plenty.” He murmured, gliding his hands up your sides to grab at your clutch, throwing it toward the window sill. “But we don’t have a lot of time.” 

You watch him through the mirror, his thumb coming up to swipe at his bottom lip, his eyes flicking to your ass while his other hand comes to skate across your skin. You shiver, the contact warm and calloused, eyes blown wide. When his hand disappears under your skirt, barely brushing the underwear you have on before flipping the back of the fabric up to see. 

He groans, biting his lip at the sight. Soft, baby pink underwear that exposes the majority of each cheek, lined with a bit of lace on the hem. “Fuck, baby.” He grits out, taking his index finger and lifting the edge to run his nail on the skin hidden. “You wear this for me?”

He makes eye contact with you through the mirror, smirking when you nod. Your cheeks are flushed, almost embarrassed that you went through the effort of the skirt, the underwear, the outfit itself for him. You wanted to tease him as you left, wanted to leave a surprise for him. 

“Don’t know if I should spank you for wearing this or eat you out for surprising me.” He growls, hands digging into the exposed skin for a moment before he steps away. He had mentioned briefly that he liked surprises while you watched him play cards with his friends, all around the ping-pong table your dad had set up in the garage. You wondered briefly if he realized you did this on purpose and if that would change his mind about what he does next when he kneels down behind you. 

You look over your shoulder at him, huffing out a breath and glancing at the door. “Are you sure?”

His eyes soften for a moment, tutting at you and running his hands up the sides of your legs, curling his fingers into your underwear and down your calves. “Don’t worry baby, I’ve got you.” He lifts one of your legs gently to help you untangle from the panties. When he sets your foot back down, you watch him shove the pair into his back pocket. “Just gotta be quiet, right?”

You nod, biting your lip to hold back a moan as he leans into your center with his tongue peeking out. His hands spread you open, pushing your hips towards the edge of the counter as he noses at your entrance, tongue swirling around your clit. Sighing happily, you lean more on your hands, unconsciously spreading more for him. 

He’s making you feel light; tingling and eye-rolling as you try to keep your mouth shut. You yelp when his hand releases your skin and comes down again, a sharp sound reverberating in the small bathroom. He pulls back, moving his head around to look at you in the mirror with a smile on his face. “Quiet. Don’t want your dad to hear you, do you?”

You shake your head furiously, jaw going slack as he brings one of his hands to replace his mouth, too enamored with watching you. You struggle to keep your eyes open as his fingers draw tight circles around you, the sound of your arousal becoming louder. “Javi–”

“Shh, baby.” He whispers roughly, giving a light smack on your right cheek again before reaching up to move your hair off your shoulder. He fits easily there, his fingers moving to your entrance and pushing in. “That’s it. So wet for me, aren’t you? My good girl. Always dressing up for me and doing what I say, huh?” You sigh happily with a nod as he presses his mouth to your throat, mustache wet with you from when he was on his knees. “Can’t believe you let me do this to you.”

His fingers are slow, curling to touch your G-spot methodically rather than racing for a finish. Javi knows you–knows that taking his time now will pay out in the end, giving a much more gratifying finish that he can look forward to. He leans one hand on the counter, fingers tangling with yours, and looks at the mirror at you again. “Look at me.”

You snap your eyes open, looking at the blown-out chocolate eyes staring back, jaw slack and heavily breathing in your ear. “I’ve got to get back out there before they come looking for me.” He mutters, eyes shimmering with amusement when you shake your head no and begin to babble. 

“No, no wait. Please-fuck-Javi wait–” You’re frantic, pushing your hips back into his fingers. You would be ashamed of how you’re acting over just a couple of his fingers if he wasn’t right there, egging you on with a bite to your jaw. 

“You’re so fucking needy for me.” He laughs, pulling his fingers out of you briefly to give you another smack before sliding back in. “Go ahead gorgeous, let me see it.”

He keeps mumbling praises to you, breathing heavily in your ear and bringing you to a release that lasts longer just because of his words. He slides his fingers from you to circle your clit again, launching yourself forward to the countertop from the sensitivity. He knows your body well, slowing down his fingers in time with you floating back to Earth, watching you in the mirror with a small smile. 

You swallow, clearing your throat and standing straight, allowing your skirt to fall back in place. You turn toward him slightly, looking down at his jeans and back up to his face to see he is still watching you. “Did you…Did you need any help?” You ask quietly, trying to focus your hearing outside the room. It’s quiet, with no indication that anyone is near. 

Javi shakes his head, flashing a smile that is blinding for a moment before pressing his lips to yours. You taste yourself on him, closing your eyes briefly before he pulls away. “Not right now.” You feel slightly self-conscious when he says this, pushing your hair behind your ear and clearing your throat again. “Are you actually going out?” He asks quietly, refocusing you. 

You shake your head, shrugging. The glint in his eye shimmers as he reaches into his back pocket, pulls out his keys and slides a smaller one off the chain. He presses it into your palm, glancing down at it. “What’s this?”

“Head to my place?” He asks quietly, a shy smile appearing before his eyes darken. “I’ll come up with an excuse…and I’ll meet you there?” When you nod your head once, he pulls you closer to him, nose brushing yours as he growls out. “Be naked, when I arrive?”

Your face flushes crimson, planting a kiss on his cheek as a confirmation before walking towards the window and sliding one leg out. “Help me out of here, and I’ll wait for you on your bed.”

[joelswritingmistress]

Oh Captain, My Captain: Chapter 9

What a night. That was your first thought when you woke up the next morning to the sound of seagulls chirping outside. A stream of sunlight highlighted every little corner of the room that you hadn't really gotten a glimpse of the night before.

You didn't have a care in the world. In fact, you felt light as a feather. Beside you, Joel still slept in his boyish contentment. Messy hair. Deep breaths entering and exiting his nose. Arms folded, hugging across his bare chest. The artist in you wanted to paint him in such a picture perfect state.

A lone anxious thought rose in your chest and it made you reach for your phone. Had anyone been looking for you, or did your brother come through?

A wave of relief washed over you when you saw there were no missed messages or calls. None. Zero. You were in the clear. Free.

The clock read ten minutes after seven o'clock and for a short time you just laid there in the blissful ocean of sheets and blankets. Joel's room was surprisingly neat for a bachelor, with a flatscreen above a pale white bureau and a few other wooden pieces of furniture. A cylindrical wicker basket sat in the corner filled nearly to the top with laundry beside a set of pullout doors you assumed housed a closet.

When Joel finally stirred, he hummed a little wake-up groan to himself as he rubbed beneath one eye before opening them.

You turned, smiling smally to yourself at his pillow-tossed hair and morning squint as the sun invaded his slumber. You felt at ease when the corner of his mouth perked up in a smile and his hand fell to your bare hip beneath the covers.

"Hey," he said quietly, his voice coming out a bit gravelly before he cleared his throat.

"Hey," you echoed, turning your body to face him more directly.

"How'd you sleep?"

"Fine." You sighed when his hand rose high up your torso and back down. "Did you sleep well?"

He nodded against the pillow. "You don't have anywhere to be right?"

You shook your head. "Nope. Do you?"

"Not until later." Joel grinned a little wider. "Someone's gotta drive the boat. Maybe you can come be a stowaway again on a ride or two."

"If you don't mind the company."

Joel chuckled quietly and pulled your body closer to his. Your lips met as you edged closer and all at once you were lost in each other again. Joel held you close, pinning you on top of him as you leaned down and initiated a heated, urgent kiss that intensified the moment. The rest happened naturally.

The entire morning went something like that. Joel whipped up some bacon and eggs with toast and some fruit. You stared out through the hanging branches toward the ocean as you sat side by side eating breakfast at the kitchen island.

Moments after slipping a strawberry into his mouth, Joel was picking up you and seating you down on the countertop with his face in your breasts leaving kisses up your neck and making you want him again.

There was a fleeting moment where you worried someone might see your intimate encounter from one of the many open windows; but once Joel got your next love making session underway you forgot all about it.

Fuck, it was all so overwhelming in the best of ways. You couldn't keep your hands off each other. All it took was one of you to look at each other the right way and the throes of new love took over.

It was close to noon when your bodies had finally had enough. Joel laid on the couch, tastefully exhausted, with you on his chest partially beneath a blanket that had been hanging on the back of the couch.

He placed his first two fingers beneath your chin and it forced your eyes on his. You placed a gentle peck on his lips.

"You know I'm normally a grumpy old man?" He said, half-kidding.

You shook your head with a grin. "I don't believe it."

"This is the first time in awhile I haven't thought about going down to that little dive bar to grumble about my day, or just get buzzed to come home alone and fall asleep."

You kissed his lips again. "I enjoy being with you, Joel."

He let his fingers run up and down your back. "I'm starting to wish you could stay for longer than just this week."

"Me too." You felt somber agreeing with him and rested your head flat against his chest. When his lips touched the top of your head your eyes closed.

"I have to get to work," Joel said in a voice just above a whisper. "You can stay.. or if you need to go home I can drop you off."

You wanted to stay, but you didn't have clothes.. and you knew you had to check in with your family sooner or later.

"Well I don't have any clean clothes," you told him with a laugh. "And I think my parents might send out a search party if I don't show my face. But, uh.."

Joel finished your thought. "Well, if you can sneak away again and feel like coming back with some clean clothes, I get out of work at six. I wouldn't mind some company."

You could sense a seriousness in his eyes and voice, alike. You felt it, too.

"I'd like the company, too."

Joel toyed with your hair and closed his eyes. "I don't want to get up." He let out a light laugh and you smiled.

"Have any sick days?" You joked, scrunching your nose as you looked up at him.

He chuckled. "I think they'd all see right through that lie. Plus.. the tourists await." Joel guided your face back to his and you shared a series of closed mouth kisses.

"Come on," he said with reluctance. "Let's get you home."

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

[joelsgirl]

The Saint, The Sinner & The Devil Pt. 1

Mafia AU x Narcos x TLOU Cross Over Characters: Mafia DBF!Joel Miller, Corrupt Javier Pena + You/Reader Content Warnings: Age Gap, Size Difference, Rough Sex, DBF, Dirty Talk, Daddy might be used in later parts, No Use of Y/N, Threesome, name calling, might be more that I've missed! Disclaimer & Notes: 1.6k Words >> Yes I know they're the same FC but shhh they're different and it works beautifully. This was inspired by a conversation with the beautiful @dreamsofmandalore + Want to see more? I’d love to see some requests, here! Image Credit: x x

Joel swiped the pad of his thumb across his tongue before flicking through a stack of hundreds. Counting out ten Benjamin's, he handed them over to the agent currently leaning against the wall of his office. Javier was as corrupt as they come, his weekly payment something he'd always collected in person. "And the other half?" He asked in a low drawl, nodding to the door behind Joel as he pocketed the cash.

"Your usual is waiting for you." The money was only half of it. For a DEA agent, Javier Pena was one of his easiest bribes. Sometimes he wondered if the cash was just a diversion, an excuse for him to let out the sinner within. It was hardly enough to justify looking the other way on his dealings and yet here they were, doing the same song and dance they always did.

Joel rose to full height, his ageing knees cracking from the shift in position. He pushed the thought aside, ignoring the fact that fifty-seven wasn't the same as thirty. As far as he was concerned, if he could draw a gun, he had plenty of life left in him.

Ring laden fingers closed around the door handle, pulling it open as Pena brushed passed him. "You joining me this time, Miller?"

Scrubbing his face in contemplation, he checked the rolex on his wrist. Pena was the last meeting on his agenda for the evening. He'd planned on taking his girl home with him but his favourite happened to be Pena's, too... "Ah, fuck it," he motioned to the center of the room, closing and locking the door behind them both after stepping in with him.

The room was nondescript, aged wine colored walls, dark wooden floorboards, a large, deep purple velvet covered daybed in the corner; and you in the middle. Your hands are bound behind your back, the soft leather cuffs tight but not uncomfortable. It's the only thing you're wearing, knowing exactly how Javi likes you. Unencumbered. Your gaze averted, studiously watching the floor despite every fiber of your being screaming at you to look up, to take in the sight of him.

He was so handsome, so was the boss. The pair so similar they could be brothers. They were two sides of the same coin, the dark and supposed light of an unrelenting war - but in this room, they were predators and you, their prey. You shouldn't enjoy his sessions as much as you do but the truth was, you looked forward to them. This had become your favorite part of the week. When you weren't with Joel, that was.

The boys circle you, moving in opposite direction, in perfect synchronicity as they both eye you hungrily. "I never tire of this one, you know?" Pena's accent was always thicker whenever he was in a room with you. So turned on it was like he fell deeper into those base instincts, his field of vision limited to you, and exactly what he'd planned on doing to that perfect little body of yours. You bite your lower lip, your chest rising and falling as you wait with bated breath for one of them to make their move. Joel hung back, letting the agent take the first step. He always did. You knew why they were there, understood the importance of making Agent Pena happy.

He moved behind you, your back pressed against the broad expanse of his chest, both men towering over you even with Joel standing a few steps away. Javier's hand reached around you tenderly, sliding up your thigh, over your stomach towards your breasts. He cupped one, kneading it between his fingers. Your eyes flick towards Joel's, an unspoken question phrased in the way you look at him. “Yes, little one. You'll get to service us both tonight.”

It was the only explanation you were going to get; the only one you needed. Your back arched for the agent, pressing yourself against his palm as his fingers found your nipple, rolling it between them. It wasn't long before Joel closed the distance between you, joining the other man. A large hand slipping down between your legs, three fingers forced into your cunt without hesitation, stretching you wide. Dipping his head, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low murmur. “Mmm, always so tight for me, aren't you, baby?”

His forearm started to move, back and forth, fucking you with a skilled hand, your moans filling the small room. Javier's fist locked in your soft hair, holding you still even though you weren't going anywhere. His hips shift forward, grinding his hard cock against your ass through the form fitting denim he was wearing. Joel's head bent forward, taking the nipple Javi had been working earlier between his lips. 

You moan at the attention, lapping it up, loving being sandwiched between the two violent men. You knew the drill, behave and you shall be rewarded… and so far? You were doing splendidly. Javi's free hand found your tight little ass, massaging it roughly. A low groan fell from his lips, blending with the hard slap that echoed off the walls as you squeal for him. "What do you say, whore?" Joel's voice, commanding in your ear. "Thank you, sir." There was no hesitation in your breathy response.

He could see Javi over your shoulder, his eyes locked onto Joels. There was a glint of approval in them that made the older male proud. His hand came down again, another hard slap in exactly the same spot. Over and over again. Each time, you oblige him with a thank you, Sir and all the while, Joel continued his three finger assault.

Pausing only to give his own hand a break, he palmed at the heat of your flesh, massaging the brilliant mark he’d left behind. His cock was painfully hard, the sight of you writhing between them driving him wild. Tightening his hold on your hair, a harsh jerk forcing your slender back to arch. Your clit grinding against Joel's palm as Javi worked the zipper on his jeans. There would be no foreplay from him, no warning you up or allowing his favorite little toy a chance to get used to the idea of what he was about to do… He lined the swollen head up with your tightest hole and slammed balls deep into your ass. 

You scream at the invasion, your walls massaging him as he pulls back, reaching the very tip and slamming home again. His thrusts brutal as he drills into you. From this angle, he could feel Joels fingers against his length. If only it was his cock, instead...

 Clearly, Joel was of the same mind as he’d raised his head, the hand not buried in your cunt sliding the zipper of his pants down. His hard cock sprung free of its binds, and he swapped the fingers with his length in a matter of seconds. 

The males groaned on impact, their rhythm perfectly in sync. As one moved out, the other moved in. They had done this dance before, were well versed in what they liked…their eyes locked over your head as the pace intensified. 

Joel raised his fingers, still slick with their juices, forcing them between your lips. The soft glow of the overhead light reflecting on the gold rings he wore. Your expert tongue cleaning yourself from Joel's fingers as he pushes them deeper. Javi used the fist in your hair to force your head forward, moving it back and forth. “Take it, slut.” The growl came from Javi and Joel groaned again…

Joel's other hand came down on your tits, catching the nipple hard. Your cry muffled, as was the thanks you offered to him. Pride filled his chest as you continued to behave. Such a good girl for him. Joel repeated his action, slapping you so hard the flesh bounced in retaliation. 

Javi reached around to slap the other one at the same time, ensuring both were attended to while their cocks pistoned in and out of your tight little holes. Their bodies collided with such force, the slaps were as loud as those created by their hands. 

Joel slid out from your slick heat, throwing a knowing glance Javi's way. On a groan, the hand in your hair forced your upper body forward, your legs kicked apart as your body was bent into a right angle. In a quick movement, Javi pulled out of your ass and slammed into your soaking cunt, filling the space Joel previously had.

The devilish grin on Joel's face widened as his hand now took over the hold on your hair, slapping the tip of his heavy length against your lips. “Open for me, whore.” You oblige immediately, your lips sucking that length in between them. He groaned as he let you take control, for a short while, anyway. That expert mouth working Joel like you did this for a damn living.

He could see the muscles on his abdomen ripple and constrict as his breath tightened. Javi continued with his brutal pace, fucking you mercilessly. “Mmmm, such a good little fucktoy. Take it, that's a good girl.” He groaned, slapping your bright red cheeks. His hands dug into the small of your hips, leveraging himself against you to fuck you harder. 

For Javi, it wasn't about the money, or the whores. He could get them anywhere. The cash was cream on the top; the real bribe was you.

The kingpins daughter wasn't anything he could buy, you were something of a prize. The day he'd discovered your affair with your father's best friend, his right hand man, the Cartel's enforcer, turned out to be the best day of his goddamned life.

He'd had all the leverage he needed to take down an empire, the only problem was... he wanted you more.

TAG LIST: @dreamsofmandalore @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @spookyprofessorknightflap >>> If you'd like to be tagged in this series or any other fics, please let me know!

[missyorkswhore]

You got it?

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[heartpascalispunk]

Lost in your eyes ❤️‍🔥

[yesjazzywazzylove-blog]

I've read so many amazing fics that I've forgotten where to find them, how to search for them and who wrote them. I have to re-read to jog my memory and it annoys me.

I think I'll wait for someone to recommend completed fics to me before I binge. When there's a million thoughts and things racing through your head daily, it's almost impossible to remember certain fics that are still ongoing from a while back.

I look forward to all your completed fics so I can re-blog and re-read for the rest of Tumblers life 😌