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fallenbratfiction · 16 days ago

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Mustache Deal ~ javier peña x f! reader

✧ ┈┈┈┈┈ *.⋆ ✧ ⋆.* ┈┈┈┈┈ ✧

A/N: This is the only way I have to motivate myself to study for midterms.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: explicit sexual content. face riding (f! reader receiving oral), mustache riding, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) piv, praise kink, light sub/dom dynamic, javi being commanding and bossy, overstimulation, rough language such as cussing, power play (deal, reward), javier manhandling gently, dacryphilia, I fucking love his mustache, god I love every mustache honestly. it's a warning itself.

✦ no thoughts, just javier's mustache ✦

❝ This story is intended for mature audiences only. Reader discretion is strongly advised. Minors DNI. I am not responsible as for what you choose to consume.❞

do not copy, translate or claim any of my work as your own.

✧ ┈┈┈┈┈ *.⋆ ✧ ⋆.* ┈┈┈┈┈ ✧

“Javi,” you call his name as you lean on the door frame of the living room.

He’s smoking a cigarette on the couch, his head thrown back against the headboard.

“Javi” you whine calling him again trying to catch his attention. Javier turns his head to look at you. You’re wearing one of his large shirts and old boxer briefs of his.

“Ven aquí amor” he calls and you paddle through the living room to get to him and sit on his lap facing him. His hands set on your sides stroking your thighs. “What’s up baby?”

“I want to ride your face” you bite your lip confessing to him. You feel like squirming at the thought, the thought that hasn’t let you study for the past hour or two.

“Is that so?” He raises a brow and leans in pressing his lips to yours. “How’s studying going?”

You groan and dip your face on the crook of his neck. You don’t want to talk about it or even think. It’s so much reading material it feels eternal. Javier chuckles and plays with your hair.

“You gotta study, how else you going to become a professional?” You let out an annoyed groan at the scolding. “I can’t focus, too busy thinking of getting myself off with your mustache”

He clears his throat and you grind slowly on his lap. He holds you in place. He hates to be the annoying old man but he can’t let you throw all your effort away for him, even if he wished that himself.

“How about a deal, hmm?” If you study for the rest of the afternoon, I’ll let you ride my face”

“But I want it now, I need it”

“It’s an offer, answer is yes or no.”

You huff and roll your eyes at him. “Fine, yes, deal or whatever”

You try get up from his lap annoyed but he pulls you back in.

“Eh, eh, eh, beso.” You grin and bring your lips to his, brushing softly before giving in to the kiss. Your tongue is playing around until you get too playful. “Okay, go study now, and I better see your head dived into a book when I walk past.”

You sigh dramatically as you slide off his lap, bare legs brushing against his jeans just to be a menace. Javier smacks your ass lightly as you pass, and you whip your head around to glare at him. He just raises a brow, smug.

“Pórtate bien,” he calls after you, tapping the ash from his cigarette into a tray. "Or the deal’s off."

You mutter something under your breath about bossy men and their stupid beautiful mouths and mustaches, but he just laughs — low and lazy — and you feel it in your bones.

You plop down at the kitchen table, yanking your notes toward you, pen in hand. When you risk a glance over your shoulder, you catch him watching you through the haze of smoke, head tipped, smile tugging at his mouth like he’s the one suffering here. Like he wants you to fail, just to have an excuse to bend you over the couch instead.

You grit your teeth, heart pounding, and bury your head in your book. Fine, just a few more chapters and you get your reward.

You bury yourself in your textbook, underlining, highlighting, pretending the words make any goddamn sense when all you can feel is the heat of Javier’s gaze drifting toward you from the couch.

A few minutes later, you hear the soft tap of his boots on the floor. Then — his hand slides slowly along your back, fingertips brushing your spine over his old t-shirt you're wearing. You tense immediately, biting your lip, eyes glued to the same stupid paragraph for the fifth time.

"¿Cómo vas, amor?" His voice is smug, lazy, and soaked in amusement.

"I'm studying," you mutter, refusing to look up, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how wrecked you already are.

He hums thoughtfully, standing behind your chair. One hand drops to your shoulder, massaging gently, while the other lazily skims the curve of your waist — distracting, distracting, distracting.

"You sure?" he teases, his mouth brushing your ear. "Doesn't look like you’ve turned a page in a while."

You squeeze your thighs together under the table, breath hitching. His thumb strokes just under the hem of your borrowed shirt, teasing warm skin.

"Javi, please." You can’t help it, the way it comes out — whiny, desperate, your patience fraying fast.

He laughs under his breath, low and rough. God, he loves you like this — needy and squirming and just barely holding it together.

But instead of mercy, he leans down even closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "A deal’s a deal, mami." His voice is velvet. Mean velvet. "You study. You earn it."

You groan and drop your forehead dramatically against the textbook. He chuckles and straightens up, pressing a single, chaste kiss to the crown of your head before stepping away.

You hear him settle back onto the couch with a satisfied sigh, like he hasn't just turned you inside out.

"Better hurry, bonita," he calls lazily from across the room. "I’m gonna start charging interest if you take too long."

"That's not fair!" you shout over your shoulder.

Javier just shrugs from the couch, all smug and relaxed like he didn’t just ruin your entire existence with one sentence.

You huff, slamming your highlighter down dramatically — but fine. Two can play dirty. You shove your headphones on, blasting music loud enough to drown out even your filthy thoughts, and dive headfirst into your notes.

You read. You memorize. You highlight until the words blur.

You lock in.

For him, for you. For the deal.

Hours pass. The light shifts. Your brain feels like melted cheese but — you did it. You did it.

You yank your headphones off and spring out of your chair, victorious, feeling like a goddamn warrior.

And then— You don’t just walk over to him. You strut.

A little swing in your hips, bare thighs on display in his old boxer briefs. You toss your hair over your shoulder just to be a brat. Maybe even hum a little song under your breath like you’re on a catwalk.

Javier watches you approach, lazy smirk curling, cigarette burning low between his fingers. He leans back, spreads his legs wider on the couch, tilting his head as you sashay right up to him.

You stop right between his knees, hands on your hips, grinning down at him.

"Finished my work," you say sweetly, sickly sweet. "Can I have my reward now, daddy?"

He exhales slow, smoke curling out from the corner of his mouth. His pupils are black.

"Cabrón," he mutters under his breath, flicking the cigarette into the tray and grabbing your hips. "Come here."

He pulls you down onto his lap in one swift tug, mouth crashing into yours — all teeth and tongue and victorious, hungry kisses.

His hands slip under your shirt, palming your ass possessively. "You sure you finished everything, baby?" he mumbles against your lips.

You nod rapidly, too dizzy to even pretend otherwise. "Uh-huh. All of it."

"Good girl," he rasps.

Javier grins against your skin, then leans back just enough to catch your face in his hand, thumb stroking your cheek lazily. His voice is low, rough, full of promise:

"Let's go get your reward then, hermosa."

You scramble off his lap with a speed that makes him chuckle under his breath. He grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers, and the two of you walk down the hall together — you practically drag him toward the bedroom.

Once inside, he falls back onto the bed with a heavy, relaxed thud, legs spreading slightly, arms thrown casually behind his head. He watches you — starving — as you stand at the foot of the bed.

Without a second thought, you yank his shirt off over your head, tossing it to the floor, the boxers quickly following. Your skin prickles under his gaze — the way his eyes drag over you slowly, reverently, like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Mierda..." he mutters when you kick the last piece of clothing away and start crawling up his body.

You plant your hands on his stomach first, feeling the hard muscle flex under your touch, and slowly, deliberately, you crawl up his torso. His hands find your thighs immediately, thumbs stroking slow circles into your skin as you straddle his chest.

His eyes meet yours — dark, heated, full of something that makes your stomach flip. His mustache twitches with a smirk.

His hands tighten around your thighs, strong and unyielding, and before you can even catch your breath, he pulls you up — guiding you to sit right over his mouth, caging himself under you like you’re his whole goddamn world.

A low, hungry groan vibrates against you the second you make contact. Your hands shoot out, scrambling for purchase against the headboard, his hair, anything — because the second his mouth seals against you, it's over.

"Go on, mami," he rasps, the words rumbling against your skin. "Ride."

The first thing you notice — the first thing that sends your head spinning — is the feel of his mustache dragging against your skin. It's perfect.

Javier licks a slow, heavy stripe up your folds, savoring the taste, the wetness, and the heat as you begin to ride his face. His hands hold your sides and press you down harder against him, keeping you in place.

Every time his tongue flicks up, every time he moves his mouth a little rougher or tilts his chin just right, that coarse scrape of his mustache follows — rubbing against your sensitive clit, setting you on fire.

You whimper — high and broken — grinding helplessly against his mouth, chasing every stroke, every brush.

"Fuck, Javi—" you gasp, voice cracking. "Your— your mustache—"

He groans deep in his chest like he likes hearing it, like he knows exactly how filthy it feels. The vibration shoots through your whole body.

He tilts his head slightly, dragging his mustache deliberately across you — slow, teasing — while he sucks your clit into his mouth and laps at you like he’s savoring every single second.

"You like that, mami?" he mutters against you, voice gravelly and dripping with dark amusement. His mustache brushes again, torturously slow. "That's what you've been thinking about all afternoon?"

You're panting, gasping his name, nails digging into his chest as you start to lose the rhythm, thighs trembling from the intensity.

He pulls back just enough to growl against your skin: "Don’t you dare run from it, baby. You earned this. Take it."

And then he dives back in — rough, messy, hungry — licking and sucking you mercilessly, not stopping even when your thighs start to shake around his head.

You can feel it building, molten and electric, heat curling tighter and tighter in your belly — and he knows. He feels it in the way your hips start stuttering, the desperate little whimpers spilling from your mouth.

He grabs your ass with both hands, keeping you firmly in place, refusing to let you escape the overwhelming pleasure.

"Come on," he rasps against you, voice low, coaxing, commanding. "Give it to me, hermosa. I want it. All of it."

You fall apart, crying out as you grind down relentlessly against his face as you ride out your orgasm, your vision blurring as you go through it.

The drag of his mustache against your sensitive swollen clit makes you scream and your thighs clamp around his head tighter.

He holds you through every second of it, savoring you, humming low in his chest like a man worshipping at his favorite altar.

"That's it, baby," he praises, voice rough and wrecked under you. "Use me. Take what you need."

And you do — grinding down, lost to the filthy heat of it, the unbearable, delicious scratch of his mustache sending you spiraling.

He doesn’t stop — licks you through it, slow and messy, until you're slumped against the headboard, panting and ruined, his face shining with you.

When you finally collapse beside him, limp and shaking, Javier wipes his mouth with the back of his hand — still looking like the smuggest, most satisfied man alive.

You’re still gasping, brain barely rebooting, when he tosses the pillow aside and rolls over, covering your body with his. Caging you beneath him, trapping you between his arms like you’re something precious — like he’s not letting you leave until he’s had his fill.

His mouth finds yours instantly — messy, hot, desperate. You can taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, and instead of shying away, you lick into him, chasing the slick, musky taste, dizzy with it.

Javier groans deep in his chest, rutting his hips against yours with a low, broken noise.

"Mierda," he mutters into your mouth, dragging his lips down your jaw, then your neck — kissing, licking, nipping — like he can't get enough of you. He latches onto the soft spot just above your collarbone, sucking until you’re whimpering, until you know it’s going to leave a mark. Like he wants it to. Like he needs the whole fucking world to know you’re his.

When he drags his mouth lower — mouth warm and mustache scratching deliciously against your chest — you arch up into him without even thinking.

He nips at the swell of your breast, then closes his mouth around your nipple, tugging gently, sucking in a way that has you writhing under him.

You gasp, tugging at his hair, trying to say something — anything — but the words tangle in your throat.

"You're—" you manage to stammer, but it gets stuck. Your brain is gone. Melted.

He feels it — the way your chest stutters against him, the way your mouth opens but no words come out. He waits for it, pulling back just slightly, watching you try so hard to form a sentence, waiting for the sweet sound of your pretty little thoughts.

But there’s nothing. Just your ragged breathing, your wrecked expression, the way your hands weakly clutch at his arms like you’re trying to anchor yourself.

He grins — all wicked heat and filthy pride — because he knows he’s broken you. Knows he's turned that sharp, bratty tongue of yours into a trembling mess.

He leans down again, catching your nipple between his teeth, grazing it lightly — and you whine, helpless, overstimulated, back arching up into him like a magnet.

Javier lifts his head, looking down at you —his face flushed from exertion, his lips swollen from kissing you, his beard and mustache shining with the evidence of what he just did to you.

He smirks down at you, slow and dangerous, chest heaving against yours. And then, with an unbearable tenderness, he dips his head again and kisses you.

Your body melts under him, pliant and wrecked and warm, and he hums into the kiss, a lazy satisfied noise that vibrates through you.

When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavy, his hands stroking slow circles on your hips.

"Still with me, hermosa?" he teases, voice rough, thick with affection.

You let out a broken little whimper, too far gone to form words. Your thighs rub together, seeking friction, instinctive and mindless.

He chuckles low in his chest, the sound sending shivers through you. Then, with a hand gentle but commanding, he nudges your thighs apart, settling himself between them. Javier fits himself inside you with a slow, heavy push, your wetness allowing him in easily. Like your body was made to take him. Like he belongs there.

You cry out softly, legs instinctively wrapping around his hips, trying to pull him impossibly closer. He groans deep in his chest, forehead dropping to yours as he sinks in fully — inch by inch — until there's no space left between you.

"Fuck, baby," he rasps, voice wrecked, thick with awe. "You feel so good... so fuckin' good wrapped around me."

You’re panting, mouth parted, eyes glassy and dazed, barely able to think — to breathe — around how full you feel.

And still — that cocky little smirk curves at the edge of his kiss-swollen mouth, even as his hips roll slow and filthy against you.

He presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your cheekbone, his voice dipping low and teasing:

"Still got some extra credit to earn, don't you think?"

✧ ┈┈┈┈┈ *.⋆ ✧ ⋆.* ┈┈┈┈┈ ✧

If all of this won't motivate me to study, then God help me, I don't know what will.

✦ this took time, love, & late-night agony ✦ reblogs are cherished. comments fuel me. thank you for the support ✨

Drop your ideas in the inbox! If you have any fic, blurb or ideas in general about Javier or any other Pedro character, send me and I'll deliver! The brat line is open 📞 read the ask box rules.

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