#idk the thing is it was very personal but it also wasn't That personal i think like we truly just happened to be the last

[tinyclowndancer]

this but with feeling

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH !!!!!!!!!! AHH AHHHHHH !!!!!!! AAAAAAAHHHH !!!!!! AHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH !! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHH !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH !! AAAAAHHHH AAAAAAAAAHHHHH !! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH !!!!!! AHHH !! AHHHHHH !!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHH !!!!! AAAAAAH !!!!AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH !!!AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH !!!!! !! AHHHHH !!!!!!!!!!!!!AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH !!! AAAAAHHHH AAAAAAAAHHHHH AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH !!!

[dilf-docs]

Tuyo Será, Y Tuyo Será

sub!javi peña x younger!reader

summary: after an stressful day at the office, javi finds solace in your warm embrace: you, his informant, who he has yet to cross that line he always crosses, like a goddamn vice.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, pwp, sub!javi, mommy/daddy kink (they call eachother mami and papi), oral (m. and f. receiving), hand job, face-sitting, fingering, creampie, p. in v., overestimulation, praise kink, degradation kink (u call him a slut once or twice lol), real men yearn™, bit of angst sprinkled, no sense whatsover just feels™

word count: 5,924 words

side note: i'm gonna be very honest with y'all. i listened to the theme song of narcos, tuyo (so good check it out), and got infested with a real bad crave to re-watch (but before reheating my narcos nachos i want to finish my romcom february marathon and finish the mission impossible movies). also, my tl is filled with javi gifs and my lewd thoughts abt him have gone beyond comprehension (not the bush reblog doing numbers...). see, it all started with an audio of him yelling maricón while i browsed twitter, which in case u don't know is the spanish equivalent to the f slur. sorry, it made me horny. javier's so bossy and intimidating but what if he wasn't? i'm all in for brat taming but i have a thing for sub boys lowkey. ah, i almost forgot, HAPPY VALENTINES MY LOVELY CITIZENS! (it's literally 12am) this is a gift from my single delulu romantic ass to you (and it's filthy sex? well, yes! isn't that a testament of our town's core beliefs? that's true love to me idk)

The air around him was tingued with women for the night, licor, suave conversation and burnt cigarettes.

The Cali cartel case had been stuck for a while. After the success of Pablo Escobar's hunt and Murphy leaving, besides his ascend, Peña felt the need for things to go fast; succesful. Besides, he had found it hard to balance the stress left behind, the one women and nicotine used to fix before.

He's nursing a glass of whiskey, despite claiming he was going to quit that too, eyes scanning the bar for you.

Sure, informants weren't his thing anymore, but he had a long history with you: you, who despite the violence and danger stayed, probably for the money, probably for him. Yes, he likes to think from time to time that your reason for choosing Colombia and denying the fake ID and passport he gave you was for this borrowed time you had with each other, filling the gaps between long nights at an office too big for a person, all to avoid the same loneliness waiting for him back at his apartment, because home meant warmth, and there was no one waiting for him back there.

So he chose to entertain you when he picked up the phone.

"Peña" he answered the call, fingers drumming against his desk and the poor hues of the lamp above scattered paperwork, some pages tinted with coffee circles caused by the base of his mug, filled over and over again.

"It's me" and he smiles at the sound of your voice, sweet, unlike the bitter taste of caffeine. "Is it a bad time to call? Are you busy?"

Filler questions, to steady your heart. The lonely office answers back mockingly on Peñas side.

"For you, I'm always available" he responds instead, cheeky. "What are you doin' up late at this hour?" he's asking, even if the question applies to himself as well. "Stayed up thinking 'bout something?"

Your tongue backfires you, speaking before you can stop yourself.

"You" there's a satisfied hum on the other line.

"So I take you call for a lead?" he leans back on his chair, arm resting behind his face. "Would be real helpful, hermosa"

"Sorry to dissapoint" how would you reveal the real reason you called? No. Never. "I just wanted to hear you"

He's standing up before he can register, pacing around the dim lit room.

"Baby..." he's already speaking up, condescending. No, not you too.

"C'mon, Peña" your heart beats dangerously, feeling it swell painfully on your throat. "It's been a long week, hasn't it?" a beat, "I'm on this bar near the office, mind if you join an old pal for a drink? I know you are alone too"

The feeling settles in, like his mind.

"Yeah?" he challenges.

"I see the office lights, all dark. 'Cept for yours"

He laughs, "You're a true detective, baby. Might have to hire you"

He's always calling you baby, because that's what you were when you started working this. Baby first, laced with intrigue and amusement at how you'd stand tall despite your age, ready to risk your life to free your home of the violence and terror drugs had brought upon. Baby now, more like a reflex, a habit Javier Peña can't break; the worst of his vices.

"Well, am I not already?" you laugh. "Come, will you? Just a drink and I'll leave you alone. You're free to drown on paperwork after that"

Worst is, Javier had already agreed the moment he picked up the saccharine tinge of your voice on the phone, impossibly addicting.

"Deal"

So now he's here. And he's finally seen you.

"You're here"

He takes a quick scan of your body, sporting a rather simple outift. Yet you seem to pull it off, hair cascading down in soft waves that ressemble the sea, very fitting in their job to compliment your tan skin.

"I am"

"You said you were here" he remarks, finishing his glass.

You take the glass from his hands, stiff from all day at the office, then raise it, mockingly alluding a toast.

"Wanted to let you relax for a bit" you add. "Thought you stopped"

"I needed it" not to admit out loud your call had made him nervous, hidden desperation and fire behind your apparent casual words. Or maybe it was his mind, far too tired and stressed to think straight.

"Good. Ready to go?"

"Where?" but he's already stand up from the stool.

"My place" and there's that same undertone he picked at first (once an agent, always an agent) now less hidden and more out in the open for him to follow or quit, much like any other of his addictions.

"For?"

"It's up to you to find out"

"Cheeky baby" he's chastising, his eyes full of something dark, and not punishing. "Are you going to murder me? Drugged my drink?" he attempts to do a terrible joke, all to calm down the fire on his soft belly and the throb of his cock. Fuck, when was the last time he had blown off some steam?

"You don't bite the hand that feeds you" you quip, but your teeth ressemble fangs. "¿Quién te crees que soy?" (who do you think I am?)

The walk to your apartment felt longer, despite having been here on a pass before, or when sending novice agents to watch for your safety.

He's never been inside before, but now he's taking the stairs two at a time, despite being tipsy, reaching your floor while you giggle with confidence, yet there's some uncertainity when you fumble your keys due to shaky hands, probably because you've never let him inside or because of your plan for tonight.

"It's very you" he comments out loud while you mumble a soft Shoes off. He takes another quick scan, some dishes drying on the counter, a rugged carpet and a flower vase with some petals fallen over the coffee table in front of your TV. It looks like a home, lived in: unlike his, that seems a curated effort to show someone occupies it, as a hotel room rather than a place to live. It's your warmth, thought, the one that wraps him up like a blanket or a fire.

Peña's been so busy looking around that he doesn't notice you've dissapeared.

"Baby?" he searches around, "¿a dónde te fuiste?" (where did you go?)

"In here" coming from the yellow-ish light at the end of the hallway.

He walks in slow steps, the floor creaking under his weight. Javier is opening the door, and the last he expects is to see you like this: on the bed, sprawled out. Fuck, he had imagined it alright: pumping his cock to the thought of you, but never thinking he'd got the very real thing for him.

"Baby-"

But here you were, all while he drools like a pathetic hungry dog, wordless and so fucking touch starved.

"Like what you see?"

His eyes roam over every dip and curve of your body, how your skin trembles even if he hasn't touched you and the room is hot. Heat is building within him, primal instincts fighting to take you, claim you, and make you his. It's a goddamn burning feeling he knows all too well.

"Mucho" he grins wolfishly, purring "bet it tastes as good as it looks" (a lot)

You sport a victory grin. "Why don't you find out?"

Your voice is like a siren call, and he's surrendering to the years of depriving himself of you.

He slowly walks to the bed, afraid if he speds up things, he'll wake up of this dream. He begins to unbutton his shirt, revealing his honeyed skin and soft belly from stress eating and licor, a smattering of dark hair trailing down past his navel.

Peña makes a pause at the edge of the bed, where you have sat up. He delicately cups with his rough hand your soft cheek, capturing your lips in a short n' sweet kiss. Finally, tasting all of you, tongue in your mouth wet, exploring every corner to get to know you: not the brave and loudmouth but the needy and touchy side of yours in bed. It speaks about pent-up passion and a hunger that seems to be only sated by the taste of you; the water to calm his thrist.

"Need you, baby" he breathes against your swollen lips. "Want to feel your skin and heartbeat as my own"

But a smile paints your lips as you sit on the edge, and he's unsure what it means.

"Slow down, needy boy" you taut, kissing the tip of his nose. "Do you remember our call? Said you've been through some stress" Javier lets out a little whine, "haven't you?" he nods eagerly, melting under your confident touch across his bicep, tracing his stomach that protudes over his jeans and belt. "So, how about this? I had an idea"

He raises an eyebrow, trying not to get distracted by your persistent touch.

"Better make it good. My patience is wearin' thin" and you can't help but coo at his strained pants and needy demeanor, so contrasting to his broody and serious nature.

"You've had a terrible week" fingers now getting lost down his happy trail, dangerously low to his pulsating cock. "Why don't I help you? But not like you think, no" you smile. "Let me take care of you, baby. I'll do all the work, and all you have to do is follow my orders like the obedient pretty boy you are. Sounds easy, right?"

A shiver runs down his spine as his dick strains against his pants. He bites back a groan, hips twitching involuntarily as you tease him.

He gulps, thinking about it. It's a new proposition that makes his cock pulse. Truthfully, it's been a week, no, weeks filled with stress, and the idea of letting someone else take control, despite his preference on him being the one in charge, aligned with his powerful masculine husk, makes it hard to picture it. But your parted swollen lips, eyes set with that determination he loves and his aching aging body...

Al carajo con todo. Peña is in. (Fuck this shit)

"Are you sure you can handle all of this?" with a stupid grin on his face, signaling his heating body, glistening with a sheen of sweat from the make-out session from before. "I'm not used to this, but for you, baby, I might make an exception. I trust you to take good care of me, yes?"

You hum, standing up. Even if he towers over you, you feel in power.

"¿Cuál es tu plan, mami? I want to hear every filthy sinful thing you have in mind" (what's your plan?)

You stand in your tiptoes to lick his lips, then planting a wet kiss that sends a jolt of electricty straight to his aching cock. Javier's heart pounds with anticipation while your tongue roams his mouth, making out until his pupils are blown wide and hair disheveled. He must look pathetic now, but he doesn't give a flying fuck about it.

"Oh, but I don't want to spoil any surprises... it wouldn't be fun" you grin. "Are you willing to be obedient for me? So you get to see what I have planned. Now sit, on the edge of the bed, now"

Wordlessly, he sits on the edge you previously had, his feet planted firmly on the floor, his thighs spread wide in a delicious manspread Peña often did.

"I've done as you asked, baby" voice firm with a low desire. "What's your next move?"

His chest heaves with each ragged breath that drags like a cigarette.

You drop on your kness, pushing his thighs further apart, red nails (just as he liked; did them a day earlier for him) digging into his jeans as you squeeze the thick muscle. Then, you lean down and press a kiss to his bulge. A low, guttural groan tears from his throat, touch igniting sparks of pleasure that raise through his veins., hips bucking involuntarily, seeking fricction. His hands clench on his side, hold as white as your sheets, trying not to grab you and disobey the looming domineering aura you had imposed on him.

"Want to hear your pretty sounds when I treat you good, baby. All of them; don't hold back"

"Fuck, baby" he pants, voice starined with the effort of holding back. "W-want to hear your every breathy moan, every filthy curse and-"

You nuzzle your face into his bulge, cutting his words effectively, the rough fabric scratching your face over his painfully hard bulge, eyes teasing.

"Hmh, hear me? No, papi. Today is all about you, just you"

He shudders at the contrast of your soft skin over the rough denim. He gazes down, eyes as dark and intense as yours, a bead of sweat sliding down his temple from the intensity of his arousal.

"You're torturing me, baby" his voice is a low rumble on his chest. "You want me to beg, plead for your touch like a desperate man?"

Peña reaches down, calloused fingers skimming along your jawline before tilting your chin up to force your gaze to meet his own. His thumb brushed across your lower lip, the rough digit dragging across the delicate rosy skin.

"Very well. I'll play your game and be what you want me to be"

"Please, want to hear you baby: beg, plead for me. And I shall give" you squeeze his thigh, playing with his belt buckle, a soft metallic clink echoing in the charged air. "Would you want me to help you? Use your words"

"Please, y/n" he raps, your name a delicious sound on his lips. "Please, I need you. Your touch, your kiss, your everything... I'm begging you, baby, help me"

He never imagined he'd have you like this, let alone, on this scenario. Why had he restrained himself when you had always wanted this as much as he did: with the way your eyes took him in everytime he walked in the room, or the way your hand would linger on your brief meetings to share information. It was the way you held onto him, like faith.

Peña reaches down, fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt hidden under his belly, struggling to undo the clasp. The agent curses, feeling dumb all of a sudden with his display of desperation, at how a young girl gets him so out of himself, horny stupid. May be the lack of women or just, well, you.

"Touch me, baby" he pleads, his eyes dark and intense. "Wrap your hands around my cock and stroke me- Want to feel your mouth on me, for you to take me, please-"

He leans back, chest heaving. This raw need he feels, it tugs at his heart and cock.

"Since you've been such a good boy, I'll reward you" you smile, oh so sickenly sweet, as if you weren't edging him. "Gonna shove my cock so far my throat you won't be able to think of anything else"

Javier shudders at your words, cock leaking with precum at the thought of your lips around his shaft. The room falls silent, and he swears you might just be able to hear the beat that pounds in his ears, that be the reason why you're smiling while he anticipates your touch.

You unzip his jeans with a calculated sense of purpose, the denim material parting to reveal the straining bulge of his erection.

"Such a pretty cock, Javi" the nickname makes his groan, "is this for me?"

He lifts his hips, allowing you to tug the jeans down his thick thighs, dick in display.

"Fuck, y/n" his voice echos a needy rumble. "I'm not a man who begs, cariño, but for you, I'll do"

Peña's rough fingers grab your hair, guiding your face closer. The room grows hotter, and you swear you can smell his musky aroma, impregnated with desire and arousal.

So your reward is to wrap your lips around his tip and suck harshly. Javier lets out a rough hiss at the sensation of your mouth, even if just the tip. He feels your tongue swirling around the sensitive flesh, lapping at the drops of precum that had already leaked from his tip.

"Dios" he cries, his head falling back as he archs into your touch. His hand's hold on your hair turns more rough, as he's fighting the urge to thrust deep into your warm welcoming mouth.

You pull back, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. You enjoy every second of his disheveled state, and the way your eyes darken, reveling in the power you hold over him, Peña's desire burns even more ardent.

"Please" he begs, "need to feel your throat around my cock as you swallow me down" and then he's bucking his hips slightly, not to force himself on you, but to let you set the pace. He moans at the wet sounds of your sucking, lips stretched around his girth.

Over and over, you take him, your technique getting more confident with each turn.

"You're a natural at this" he praises, voice rough with arousal. "You're gonna be the death of me"

You pull out with a Pop! making him whine.

"Don't talk, baby. I just want to hear your moans you desobedient old man" he barely registers your next move, slapping his cock. He lets out a sharp, breathless moan at the contact. "Will you behave now and let me jerk you off?"

"Sí, sí, sí" he pleads without a second thought, or embarrasment of his needy state. He feels your hand wrap around his throbbing dick, fingers barely able to encircle his thick girth. You stroke him with a teasing slowness, and his hips buck involuntary as he gasps, the pain bordering on pain at the intensity.

He then bites his lips, trying to hold back the desperate pleas that'll sink his masculinity even further, but his chest heaves with the effort, his skin sweat-slicked over his tense muscles.

"Mmm, yes..." he breathes out, the wet sounds of your palm gliding along his arousal, more than he could take. "I'm all yours, baby. Use my cock the way you want"

You smile, "that's my good boy"

He tangles his fingers in your hair once more, guiding your hand as you stroke him. Your fingers and lips brushing drive him wild, whines he can't contain coming out.

"D-don't stop" he begs, eyes fluttering as he looses himself in the haze. "P-please, keep on touching me, making me feel this good. I want to paint your skin with my seed-"

"Beg for it" your voice is low, and you slap his cock again. "Go on, wanna hear you, pretty boy"

Javier lets out a shar gasp at the sudden sting of pain mixing with the pleasure coursing through his veins. His balls tighten, the pressure a ringing sound on his ears as you continue to stroke him ruthlessly.

"Please" voice reduced to a desperate, needy whine. "Please, I need it. I need to cum so fucking badly. Te lo pido, cariño. Déjame, por favor" (i'm asking you, honey. let me, please)

He bucks his hips frantically, fucking himself with your fist at the amounted pleasure.

It's a real picture: disheveled hair that sticks to his equally sweaty skin, fluttering droopy eyes, ragged panting and desperate moans spilling from his pretty lips.

"Fuck, I can't- can't hold it back" he mumbles, eyes wild and fevered. "I'm going to cum, all over your hand. Please, let me have this. ¡Te lo ruego!" (i beg you)

He was lost in the haze of lust, body trembling with the force of his impending climax. The pressure was unbereable; he needed to find release.

"Aw. Pretty boy can't take it anymore, can he?" you coo, laughing a bit. Your nails dig on his thigh. "Do it, baby. And don't hold back: I want to hear every filthy little sound out of your lips"

Peña throws his head back at the same time a low, guttural roar of pleasure rips through his throat. His cock jerks and spams in your grip, spurting hot shots like a volcano. Javier's never felt like this before: so fucking hard, hips bucking and thrashing as he rides out the waves of his intense climax, painting your hand with his cum.

"S-so good. Se siente jodidamente bien, carajo" he moans, hips jerking erratically as the last spurts of his release dribble out onto your fingers. (shit, it feels so good, fuck)

His body slumps back against the bed, and from your knees, you get to see his chest and tummy rising up and down, struggling to catch his breath. His seed still glistens on your hand, so you do the most reasonable thing and suck it off. Javi's cock goes hard again at the sound, dying to see what it looks like, if the image is as obscene as what he can hear, but his back is killing him, so he lays still, fluttering eyes as he looks at the ceiling, a satisfied smirk at the corners of his mouth.

"That was-" he can't even speak, oh God, "I want to" he fumbles his words, "want to please you in return, baby"

But you're not done for tonight. You get up, and he gets to observe your body as you slowly undress the last remanents of your clothes (underwear), a show for him and his hooded eyes. Peña licks his lips like a starved man, but fuck, wasn't he?

Then, you push his body to stay against the mattress, sitting on his lap. He gasps sharply as you pin him down, straddling his lips with a wicked gleam in your eyes.

"Do you think you deserve to cum inside me, Javi?"

He can feel your core pressing against his sensitive cock, wet and hot, making him shiver.

You pinch is nipple, waiting for an answer. A soft cry escapes his lips, and he's arching into your touch. There's a jolt that goes straight to his dick, and he can feel himself getting overestimulated, twitching and jumping under you.

But his eyes are dark and hazy, wandering with lust your body, hands roaming wildly with teasing touches. You brush his too, no, burn it where your touch meets his soft tanned skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

"Mmm, I don't know if I deserve such a reward" his tone low and seductive, but there's a twinge of insecurity laced, as if he does believe he isn't worth it. "But I want it. God, I need it" you smile at his pleading. "Want to feel your tight little cunt squeezing my cock, for you to milk me for dry, to take every last drop of my cum"

He rolls his hips slightly, semi-hard cock brushing against your dripping sex.

"Tell me what I have to do to earn the privilege" he whines. "Haré lo que sea, sólo dilo" (i'll do anything, just say so)

"That's my good boy"

You grab his cock, settling it on your entrance, wet folds receiving him. You tease the tip before sliding it slowly inside, and Javier's body shivers when your slick heat taunts him, making him gasp sharply. He feels your moist coat his dick, allowing him to glide his cock along your slit with ease.

"So fucking wet, baby" he praises with a groan, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he fought the urge to surge forward, to bury himself in your welcoming heat in one hard thrust. "So ready for me"

You sink down slowly, every inch of your tight walls gripping him. It flutters and squeezes around his cock perfectly, making his eyes roll back in ecstasy.

"Feels so good, baby" he pants, hips lifting slightly to meet yours as you settle onto his lap. He can feel you enveloping him completely and its driving him mad. "Gonna make me cum before I'm even fully hard" 

He meets your gaze, drowning in your dilatated pupils, your breasts bouncing with every move and breath. Javier finds that, with such a view, it's not hard to fall into this supplicant version of himself.

You start bouncing on his cock, letting it hit all your spots. You whine, softly.

"God, Javi, feels so good-" he's babbling nonsense in spanish as he holds you by your hips. You feel your release coming.

"Shit, Javi. Mami is cumming-"

You fuck yourself faster on him, making Peña moan louder when you ride him harder, hips slamming down onto his with urgency. The wet slap of fleash against flesh fills the room, mingling with his cries and your whines.

"Do it, baby. Cum for me, want to know I made you feel good" he urges as he feels your walls flutter and squeeze around his dick, his fingers sinking into your ass' soft skin, guiding your movements.

With one final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside your cunt. You come undone around him, pussy clenching and rippling along every inch of his cok, sending him over the edge.

"Fuck, mami. I have to-"

You hold his hips down, still on your senses despite just having an orgasm.

"Wanted to cum without my permission, you needy slut? I said I want to hear you beg for it, ask me to come, and don't ever do it without me telling you to"

He can feel his cock pulsing and throbbing inside her, the urge to release his load overwhelming. But at your stern command, he forces himself to hold back, gritting his teeth as he fights for control.

"Perdóname, bebé" he pants, voice strained as he holds back. "It won't happen again without your permission" (forgive me, baby)

"Good. Have we learned, then?"

"Yes, yes!" he cries out, eyes wide and pleading. "Please, y/n. I beg you. Need to cum so badly, I- it's too much, please let me. Please, please, please!"

His fists ball tightly on his sides, knuckles turning white as his body trembles with his impending release.

"Please, let me have your permission to cum," he begs, voice a desperate, needy whine. "I'll do anything, baby. I'll be your good boy, your obedient fucktoy. Just say the word. Please, I'm begging you- let me cum for you"

You push your erection against your core, nodding in response.

"Cum for me, loudly, so I know that you're thankful for this"

With your permission granted and hips pressing down firmly against his, Javier allows himself to surrender to the overwhelming urge to cum.

Thick, hot ropes of cum erupted from his shaft, painting your velvety walls with his essence. He can feel each powerful spurt of his release, the sensation of his balls emptying inside you pushing him to even greater heights of ecstasy. The pleasure was almost too much to comprehend, the feeling of your hot, slick walls milking his cock for every last drop of his release sending him spiraling into a state of euphoria.

"Thank you, baby" he pants, struggling to catch his breath. "Thank you for letting me cum inside you"

"Is that so?" I chuckle, "want to really show me how thankful you are?"

Without telling him so, you slip out of his dick, cum still leaking from your legs, and place on top of him: on his face, even if he slightly struggles for air, keeping yourself held up on the headboard of his bed, barely putting any pressure on him.

"Then eat me, baby" you feel his hot breath against my folds, "reward me for riding your needy dick; wanna hear just how pussy starved you are"

Javier's eyes widened as you suddenly straddle his face, the scent and taste of your combined releases filling his nostrils and coating his tongue. He could feel the sticky essence, a mix of your arousal and his own cum, smearing across his cheeks as you ground your dripping core against his mouth.

Without hesitation, Peña dives in, his tongue delving between your folds to lap up the sensitive nub. He moans deeply, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and against your cunt.

"Mmm, fuck yes" he growls, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he pulls you down harder against his face, savoring your sweet pussy that tastes like him too. "I'm starved for this pussy, baby, could eat this pretty little cunt for hours and never get enough"

Peña seals his lips around your clit, suckling the swollen bud as he fucks his tongue deeper inside. He can feel his cock twitching and hardening once more, the sensation of your dripping sex against his face and the taste of your releases on his tongue reigniting his desire.

You grind my hips up to meet his face, moaning loudly as he continues to devour your cunt. He looks up at you, mouth still glued to my pussy. His eyes are glassy and he's whimpering into your folds. The image alone makes your pussy gush.

"Sweet boy, keep going. Doing such a good job with your tongue" you moan while his hips buck into nothing in the air, "love how you eat me out"

Javier moans into your dripping pussy as you ground her hips against his face, the praise and encouragement spurring him on. Your juices flow freely, coating his chin until they drip down onto his chest.

"Love eating this perfect pussy. I fucking love the taste of you, the way you gush and quiver against my tongue. I could spend all day with my face buried between your thighs, worshipping this sweet cunt"

He could feel his own arousal growing, his cock hardening and throbbing as he lost himself in the act of pleasuring you.

Spurred on by your praising moans, he redoubled his efforts, sucking your clit hard as he plungs two fingers deep into your soaked cunt. He pumps them in and out, curling them to stroke that sensitive spot inside you.

"That's it, hermosa. Ride my face. Please, use me baby, please"

He can feel your thighs trembling on either side of his head, body tense as he brings you closer and closer to the edge. The thought of tasting your release, juices flooding his mouth, made his own arousal swell to painful proportions.

"Would you let me use your nose, papi? Wanna cum on your face, grind off of it" you say, but even if you ask for permission, you're already over it, riding it.

Javier lets out a muffled moan of approval as you begin to grind your dripping pussy more firmly against his nose, using it to stimulate your most sensitive spots. He can feel the sticky essence of your coupling smearing across his upper lip and coating his nostrils as you ride his face with increasing urgency.

"I want to feel you cumming, drenching my face with your sweet juices" he pleads. "Paint my fucking nose with your release, baby"

He could feel your thighs quaking and clenching around his ears, body tensing as you chase your rapidly approaching climax. The scent of your arousal is overwhelming, the sweet aroma filling his nostrils and clouding his mind with lust.

"That's it, baby. Fuck my nose, use it to make yourself cum," he urges. "Give it to me, y/n. Give me everything you have"

You grip the back of his head, pushing him down while grinding your wet pussy across his face. You feel yourself tightening your hold as you come against his mouth, Javier letting out a muffled cry of pure, unadulterated pleasure as he feels your fingers tangling and tugging demandingly.

"Then be a good boy and take it all"

"Yes, mami!" he gasps, the words vibrating deliciously against your soaked, sensitive flesh. "I'm your good boy. I'll take it all, every last drop"

Peña feels your pussy clench and spasm against his mouth, walls fluttering wildly as your climax crashes over you. He whines deeply, the sound drowned out by the gush of your release flooding his mouth and pouring over his chin. The taste of your arousal is as sweet as he imagined, intoxicating, exploding across his taste buds and sending a bolt of pure lust straight to his aching cock.

"You taste so fucking good, baby. So sweet and perfect" he pants, his voice hoarse. "I could drown in this pussy and die a happy man"

He feels your body shaking and trembling above him, hips still grinding weakly against his face. But you still have the strength to lace your fingers through his hair and pull his head back.

You can feel his dick barely grazing your ass, rock-hard again.

"Now swallow it, and I might help you with that" you slap his cock with your free hand. He bucks and jerks at the mix of sensations; the way you toy with him and tease him, only heightening his desperation and desire. "Be a good boy just as you've been. I want to see this throat swallowing it all"

You taut his neck and adam's apple with your nails, the pull exposing the vulnerable column of his throat. He can feel the sharp sting of the nails digging into his skin, the sensation sending a dark thrill of pain and pleasure racing down his spine.

"Yes, mami" his voice a low, submissive rasp. "I'll swallow every drop, just like a good boy"

He tilts his head back further, Adam's apple bobbing as he gulps and swallows, trying to obey. The taste of your cum coats his tongue and slides down his throat.

"Good boy" you praise, stroking and slapping his shaft, your eyes never leaving his.

"Fuck!" he cries out, his hips thrusting up to meet your hand.

He can feel his release swiftly approaching, the pressure in his balls growing to an unbearable level. The way you touch him, the taste of your release still lingering on his tongue... he's gone insane, and it's your fault the same man who took down the biggest druglord of the world is now reduced to a moaning mess.

"Please, mami" he begs, his tone desperate. "I need to cum so badly. Will you allow me?"

"Do it" you pant, "and don't hold back any cute cries coming from your lips"

With your permission granted, Javier's cock spams violently in your grip.

"Fuck, yes! I'm cumming so fucking hard, mami. Thank you, baby, thank you so much!"

Thick, hot ropes of cum explod from his cock, painting your hand and his own abdomen with his essence. His body convulses beneath you, muscles clenching and unclenching as his climax tears through him.

He gazes up at you, eyes hazy and mind fucked.

This newfound pleasure was almost too much to comprehend, a weird feeling of ecstasy he had never dreamed of. And it was you, of all people, who had made him come by rendering him to a whiny and needy submissive part of himself he didn't know.

"Thank you for letting me cum, mami" he pants, his voice a low, rough rasp. "I am forever in your debt, baby"

You giggle, laying down next to him, while pressing a soft kiss to his sweat glistening temple.

"Anytime" you reply, so sweet and simple, as if you hadn't completely ruined his life.

But well, wasn't he known for his love to get into places he shouldn't have?

dts: para @ann-gell u know i love u right? my mx valentine, xoxo. no autorizo que te sientas mal as�� que ten una cochinada ft. javier peñita, te la dedico con amors, my hot funny lovely friend ♡

[revive-the-fandom]

favorite rotg theory?

I honestly forgot most of the theories bc I disagree with most of them tbh. imo most fan theories tend to overcomplicate or villainise/de-villianise characters while completely missing the point.

but this is a positive question so i'll try my best lmao

I think my favourite is probably that Jack lost his memories not because of the Man in the Moon, but because he died. Whether that be because of a resurrection, or because of trauma induced amnesia.

Although, tbh, my personal (related) theory is that Jack never even died in the first place. If we look at his first scene, we can see him let out a breath as soon as he leaves the water

if he'd died of drowing, he'd have to cough up all the water he'd inhaled, or at least not have anything breath left to exhale.

(also, interesting that his breath in this scene is always misty, like its warm. and is like that for multiple breaths, so not necessarily "the last warm breath he had left in him" since he's continuously exhaling warmth. which also implies that Jack is warm-blooded, not cold or undead, but alive.

I'm realising now that I have a lot of theories... idk man, it's kinda hard to pick a favourite when you could debate every point with the same enthusiasm.)

then compare this scene to his memory of falling through the ice

it's so quick for a drowning, which are notoriously fast. Google suggests it takes 3 minutes to drown, which this is well under.

and yes, this is possibly just a cinematic verison of events, sped up for the viewers sakes.

however, what if it's not. what if Jack entered the water, the Man in the Moon saw it, knew that no one in this time period was going to be able to save him, and just sort of put him on pause. suspended animation, if you will, so that he had time to save him as best he could.

This theory is also part of my "the Man in the Moon did nothing wrong" movement.

What evidence do we have that the Man in the Moon has enough power to do anything more than he already does? What evidence do we have that the Man in the Moon didn't drain his powers saving Jack?

The only time in the entire movie that we know he actually, audibly spoke to anyone on Earth was the very beginning where Jack says he told him his name. And even that wasn't audible to the audience! Only Jack heard that, so potentially he could be restricted by any number of things - only being able to speak through mental connections, only to his "creations" or "beneficiaries", only through abstract thoughts.

If we throw GoC into the mix

(which nobody has to, but I like to. I've been vagued before about forcing other people to accept GoC as canon, but I'm not trying to do that and never was. I just like it and want to use it as my canon.)

then we can play with the timeline a little, as GoC canonincally happens "some decades" before the steam train is invented: The steam train is invented in 1784 so GoC probably takes place in around the 1740s.

Jack is 300 ish in 2012, so his "birthday" is probably around 1712. So he was around well before the Guardians even existed (or, well, the group was formed at least. GoC Manny, Bunny and Sandy are millenia old, North is in his twenties/thirties probably and Tooth is a bit of a mystery, so..).

Which means that the Man in the Moon resurrected Jack before Pitch was even woken by Nightlight, and he was presumed dead.

The Man in the Moon only ever communicates through specific mirrors (actually I think they were gongs but basically it functions like a window) in GoC, except for book 5 where they physically go to the moon - but book 5 is weird and breaks the RotG canon so I don't count it - which also lends itself to this theory that the Man in the Moon expended his power resource before GoC. So he couldn't talk to Jack more than he had. Jack would have needed to go find one of these mirrors (one is in the Lunar Lamadry in the Himalayas, I believe on top of Mt Everest????).

GoC also sets the Man in the Moon up to be kind but incredibly distant and unsocialised. He was raised on the moon by his parent's robot servants and only interacted with Earth through their technology. To him being alone is just his normal, so he probably doesn't see Jack's isolation as a that big of a deal.

anyway, sorry that got a bit out of hand. Here are some honorable mentions for theories that I like:

Jack is descended from Katherine and Nightlight (yes this breaks the GoC/RotG canon I just established - this would have to be a different timeline to that)

Jamie is descended from Jack's Sister

Jack's Sister is named Mary (technically confirmed to be true by Joyce - I like the nickname Molly for Mary)

Baby Tooth was granted free will by Jack naming her & will develop & grow more now that she's no longer a part of the collective (I think this originated with @drowningostrich but I'm not sure)

Mother Nature is friends with all nature/element/seasonal spirits including Jack and Bunny

There's a fuck ton of other spirits out there who have their own society that Jack was just largely on the outskirts of (not necessarily an outcast, but more like a forgotten aspect)

[elkian]

Something I noted in the Hobbit that's started to rear its head in Fellowship is this:

Tolkien, again and again, stresses the importance of resting.

You have to rest. You have to sleep. Danger is on the way, yes, but it isn't here yet and you'd be better off being rested for when it comes.

You have to recover. You're wounded/starved/traumatized, you need to rest. Both Bilbo and Frodo's early journeys include months-long stays in Elrond's house.

And you have to eat. Things look grim, and having a full belly won't stop that, but it will make you better-prepared to handle it. Bilbo's journey and company nearly die from starvation in the Mirkwood, to the point that being taken prisoner by an unknown nation was a better prospect.

And yeah we can point at Tolkien's personal experiences (though idk if it's quite the same for when the Hobbit was written), but he's not wrong. You have to rest. Staying up for days on end to face endless danger is a great line in an epic poem from ages past, but in the here and now, you are mortal and you need. to. REST.

I don't have the language for it at the moment (I'm overdue for dinner myself), but I love that an integral part of being capable of heroism is being fed and rested. That you have to take care of yourself if you want to get anything done, and when the characters take care of themselves, it's never to the exclusion of others. Elrond and Beorn and so many others break bread with the companies, Farmer Maggot finds trespassers and once pleasantries are out of the way, he feeds them and gives them a ride and gives them a snack for the road (which is also part of a big in-joke, because the work contains multitudes).

I keep thinking of the bit near the end of the Hobbit, where Bilbo's part in the company becomes perhaps the most crucial it's been because he wants to go home. He wants to sleep in his warm, dry, soft bed, and he wants to eat food that wasn't designed to stay 'edible' for months on end, and he wants a goddamn cup of tea!

And over and over I think about him turning over the Arkenstone, which he himself coveted, and he says, out loud, without subtext, that Thorin will sit on his pile of gold and starve to death if nothing changes.

Bilbo's ability to be surrounded by fabulous treasure, appreciate it, and then consciously decide that having basic creature comforts and his needs met are better than the potential-but-not-yet-extent wealth of mountains of gold. Bilbo is referenced in the Fellowship, at the beginning, as someone who often spends his money and gives gifts and enjoys good food, as hobbits are wont.

Hobbits are almost joke characters in the setting, in these epic tales, and that is their strength. The Hobbit is appropriately named, because the company would have been doomed multiple times over without Bilbo, even if he is embellishing his memoirs. Gandalf correctly identified that the company would need someone who could, with serious determination, say, "gold is great and all but it needs to be spent or it's worthless". He needs someone who, when faced with a cold tomb of treasure and a hearty meal, will choose the latter every time, even if there's some hesitation or puttering around with the treasures first.

Hell, Bilbo gave up The One Ring and he did it twice in the Fellowship alone - once at the birthday party, and then at Elrond's house. Yes, he did some dubious stuff to get it and when he had it, but the fact that he gave it up and managed to stick with that decision is honestly absolutely incredible when we see people like Gandalf, Galadriel, and more struggling to restrain themselves. Gandalf all but begs not to be offered it, because he does not consider himself strong enough to give it up, or at least not before causing immense harm (this is implied, anyhow; I'm listening to the radio play version so I need to go back and check the narration in the text later).

(Also, I think it was very important for Bilbo to have his Moment at the House of Elrond - because it scared Frodo. And I think that's what knocked Bilbo out of his fervor - looking into the face of his heir, ward, adopted child and seeing fear, and realizing he was the source of it, and the Ring was not worth that to him.

And Frodo had only twice worn the Ring til now - neither time willingly - and this is an excellent wake-up call. He sees his pleasant-if-odd guardian turn into something horrifying and alien, a monster that covets the trinket in his hand, and he knows now exactly how that happened.)

The Hobbits are such wonderful protagonists particularly because they're about as far from classic epic heroes as you can get. Thorin and Aragorn are having Heroic Returning King stories happening one step to the left of our focal characters, who are preoccupied with whether they'll be able to eat tonight. The Hobbits regularly lend both levity and pragmatism to the party, and there's something very funny about the amount of "I'll do it, you can't stop me from doing it, but I am going to complain the whole time" that I've seen come up in the Fellowship specifically, though it was definitely there in the Hobbit.

[mzannthropy]

Anne of the Island Chapter 11

Whew, LMM really threw everything into this chapter, the good the bad and the ugly. (This got long.)

So we're back in Avonlea and it's summer and Anne is reunited with her bestie Diana. RIP residents of Avonlea I never heard of or cared about much. I wonder if Uncle Abe foresaw his own death?

Congrats to Billy Andrews and Nettie Blewett. I also want to know (quoting Davy's favourite phrase here lol) whether he proposed to her himself or sent Jane again. Methinks he did it himself, if only bc I like to think that Jane refused to be his proxy again. We don't know anything about Nettie (at least I don't remember her from previous books) but I imagine her to be the bossy type, a formidable woman, you know, I think that would go well with his personality. Though why the hell am I investing this much time into a storyline that gets fewer sentences that I'm writing here, I cannot answer.

Now, Jane. I made a post on Jane in AOTI in 2023, not linking it here now bc it contains spoilers for later chapters. So, Jane resigned from Avonlea school and is going West. For illustration, this is what "West" means in Canada (PEI is so tiny!):

“Can’t get a beau in Avonlea, that’s what,” said Mrs. Rachel Lynde scornfully. “Says she thinks she��ll have better health out West. I never heard her health was poor before.”

Well, Jane did mention headaches in her letter to Anne but if it's true that her reason for going West is to find a man (and I think it likely is, though I also suspect that Jane wishes to get away from her mother, who is not a nice person) then--so fucking what? In this culture, there seems to be no worse fate for a woman than that of remaining a spinster. I get the impression that even an abusive husband is better than none. Then why blame a girl who is actively working on avoiding this fate? "What else would take her out West to some forsaken place whose only recommendation is that men are plenty and women scarce?" That's kinda the point, Rachel. Jane probably realised she's not getting attention at home, so she decided to go somewhere where she will get it, if only bc there aren't many women. Mrs Lynde is being unfair and judgemental here. Jane is going West to teach, not to have fun. Half a fucking continent away, where she doesn't know a soul, to a completely different environment, and different customs too, I imagine their ways will be very different from the ways of PEI. And she's going on her own. Jane is one truly brave young woman. In this instalment, LMM has gone out of her way to describe Jane as plain and boring. I think this is why she did it, bc there was to be a twist. And I like that Anne defends her friend. It also just occurred to me now that the proposal by proxy might have been a catalyst for Jane. Someone like her brother, who can't even talk to the girl he wants to marry, still manages to bag himself a wife, while she can't even get a man to look twice at her. That's gotta hurt. So she took her life into her own hands, instead of crying into her pillow at night. Good for you, Jane!

Next, Ruby. You know I've always thought that LMM chose to kill her off bc she was so wild about boys. Maybe she wanted to depict someone dying from tuberculosis, bc that's what used to happen in her times, and it had to be someone close to Anne. It couldn't be Diana, of course, so it had to be either Jane or Ruby. Ruby was probably the better choice for that. I mean, idk, I don't care for her much. She's crazy about boys and gets hysterical, that's all there is to her, but also she was an opportunity for LMM to write someone so vivid fighting against inevitable death.

Next, Aunt Atossa. One of the book's pointless plots. There already was a similar character in AOA and it wasn't as out of place. LMM should have written a separate short story for her. (There are actually 2 spinoff short stories for AOTI.) The only good thing is that Diana on their way there admired the sunset. We don't see her do that a lot.

Last, Anne wants to write a short story. Fantastic, tell me more!

[forgettable-au]

FORGETTABLE-AU (page 82-85)

THAT LAZYBONES!!

[BEGINNING] [PREVIOUS] [CONTINUE]

[lazylittledragon]

i'm going to scream i got accused of being a transmisogynist by someone on twitter because of this specific part of my t4t steddie art

[ai-the-broccoli]

enemies to lovers / but you'll never own my heart

@luzon-dove happy birthday, Quinn!! As a present, I decided to draw a piece fanart of your "blood in the walls of the yagami house" AU fic series, since I found it very well-written and full of super interesting ideas and concepts. I hope you like it!

[diazley]

So hear me out...imo Tommy is the perfect person for Buck...on paper. Like, we don't really know that much about him as in like does he want to get married? Does he want kids? etcetera etcetera but let's say he does want all that and Buck wants all that and Tommy is sweet and caring, is better to Buck than any of his exes were to him and he is a firefighter so he understands the work and the hours and how important the job is to Buck and he fits in with his found family and is friends with his best friend Eddie and gets his relationship with Chris, and is basically the whole damn deal okay? Let's say he's the person Buck has always dreamt of being with one day. But here's the thing...

This would've all just been the perfect premise for a happily ever after but, BUT!! Eddie.

Eddie Diaz exists. And he just doesn't exist, he exists as a huge part of Buck's whole damn world. They are best friends but they're also so much more than that. If they were normal about each other and if they haven't gone through a whole lot of shit together and haven't shared their best parts and worst parts with each other and if either of them loved each other any less, then Buck could've made Tommy his happy ever after, but alas! Eddie Diaz exists and that's why perfect on paper doesn't matter cuz Tommy Kinard will never be Eddie Diaz.

[rapidhighway]

the thing with sonic 3 is I can't even be too mad at it. I knew that was going to happen. i love action too much. sonic and shadow had a high speed chase, shadow did the akira slide up a fucking building and then they beat each other up on the moon man. i am a weak weak man when it comes to cool as fuck action scenes and they made that movie for me, I was partly blind to everything else that was happening tbh. I actually will have to rewatch this movie to say anything coherent about it

[thedreadvampy]

sometimes I forget that my experience has been. um. not 'your experiences are not universal' vibes but more like 'your experiences are EXTREMELY atypical'

[averlym]

no one would notice if i ever vanished // if bodies could sustain // this never-ending army // like blood pumping through a vein

(click for better resolution!)

:OOO hello. anyway since these are all posters i'd have in an ideal world or smth and i'd like to store the high res versions somewhere,,, here's the google drive folder for them? hehe ''

close up!

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

questioning sexuality is so exhausting

[fox-guardian]

sometimes i am reminded of strange comments i receive on my art and i am still baffled.

[ID: Tags reading "your alice looks like shes adicted to heroin and I love that" end ID]

like. no, people who are addicted to drugs shouldn't feel shame over their appearances, ofc. but also Why Would You Say This To Me.

[bubblegumflavor]

I was just going through my picture folder and stumbled over one I used for a reference once to draw musical Johnny from the first promo material... and he did not have a scar on the reference and someone commented I forgot the scar like I was a committing a crime.

And I just wanted to remind people that yeah, we get to know Johnny with his scar but he also just got it recently. People could draw Johnny before he got jumped by the socs. I see people draw Dally with scars though he is never said to have one. But it is okay to imagine him with battle scars.

Forgetting something isn't a crime. Making mistakes isn't something to be pointed out if not asked for. Mistakes happen. If it bothers you so much, maybe ask why he doesn't have a scar instead of assuming it was forgotten to make the artist feel bad about their drawing. (or imply they don't do the character right)

But also it is okay to draw him before he got the scar or make it look different. Maybe you draw a perspective where it isn't seen. Maybe you draw an AU where he never experienced this kind of horror that happened to him.

[found--family]

am i the only one who sensed some jilted lover vibes from jensen?