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tieronecrush · 1 year ago

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꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter four: i can see you

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 9.6k

a/n: this chapter is A LOTTTT of filth and as always thank you to bestie @northernbluess for beta-ing <333 love ya!

It’s the first class after Javi had you on your knees in front of him, the rest of the weekend was spent circling back to that image and having to take a cold shower or adjust himself in his jeans when he met up with some old friends from his days as a sheriff. The other thoughts that alternated from the image of you on your knees, soft and supple lips around his cock, was his view from between your legs, pleasure contorting your face and pulling you to a place where you fully let him give your body the treatment it deserves. There’s a phantom feeling of your come all over his face, the visual of you squirting for him bringing him to the edge when he spent Sunday night with his hand around his cock.

What would you feel like, writhing underneath him and making all those sweet little sounds he’s been replaying over and over in his head, while he gives you his cock over and over until you’re screaming?

You were now a craving that couldn’t be satiated; even if he had your mouth again, even if he got another taste of you, even if he got the chance to fuck you properly, it wouldn’t ever be enough. He’s always going to want one more orgasm, one more little moan of his name, one more time spilling into you and watching you take it wherever.

This is why he is buzzing as he walks through the halls to the lecture room, stalking up to the door and peeking through the small window. A glimpse of the back of your head sends a hot rush of his blood south, rolling out his shoulders and taking a breath to calm down. He languidly makes his way down the stairs at the end of the rows of seating, slowing his pace even more when he starts to reach the row you’re occupying. The sound of your voice rises above all the other students in his ears, and he bites back a smile as he’s reminded of the short phone call from the evening prior.

“Will you draw something else for me, bebita?”

“I can but that means I won’t be paying too much attention in class, Professor Peña.”

“Eh, doesn’t matter so much. Can just fill you in when I see you next. Call it private tutoring…” He grinned when he heard you laugh on the other side of the line, feeling like a schoolboy crushing hard. Javi was sitting on his couch, laying back and listening to you, trying to ask questions that gave long-winded answers so he could listen to your voice. “D’you have any other hobbies, bebita?”

“Hm, I mean, I guess so. Haven’t had a lot of time to do much these days cause of school. But I’ll sound like a grandma if I tell you about all those so let’s leave it at I like to doodle in your class.”

“No, no, I wanna hear about it all. What else is there besides drawing?”

“Well, um, I like embroidery. Like those pieces of fabric in the ring with designs on them? Those are fun to make when I’m watching TV or a film. Helps me focus, I guess. Actually, a lot of my hobbies are just things that help me focus so maybe I have a bit of an attention problem—”

“Don’t seem to have an issue paying attention to me, cariño.”

“Yeah, but you’re a distraction in and of yourself. I can barely pay attention to anything you’re saying during lecture cause I’m just looking at you, which is why I had to start doodling to have something to help me focus.”

“I see. Alright, so drawing and embroidery, anything else you like to do?”

“I guess anything I can make really. I find new mediums that look fun to do, buy all the supplies, and do it once, and then don’t touch it again.” You laughed again and Javi smiled and shook his head.

“Well, how about you make me something from all those different things? I want some Angel originals, hermosa. Show off how much I like art.”

“Javi, you’ve got no clue about anything to do with art.”

“Yeah, but I would know they’re yours. That would make them the best.”

It was silent for a moment, Javi awaited your answer to his loosely termed commission.

“Alright, deal.”

When he comes back into the lecture hall from his trailing thoughts, the student next to you is speaking, trying and failing to keep her voice at a low enough volume for Javier not to hear her.

“I heard that Professor Peña used to not be the most ethical when he was in the DEA…like slept with prostitutes to get information. Can’t even imagine the shit he must’ve caught there,” she says as if it’s the juiciest information she’s been told, likely wanting someone else besides you to overhear and question it.

You scoff at the girl sitting near you, rolling your eyes before your brow creases slightly in disapproval, “Y’know, you really shouldn’t be making assumptions about people based on campus rumors. And even if he did do that, he clearly did something right cause he stopped all of those criminals, and probably helped the women too. A lot of people talk to be able to get other opportunities.”

Anger flashes in your chest, burning red like heated iron to brand your heart with Javi’s likeness.

No, no feelings. Nothing more than what you have going on with him, no getting any more attached and making it messy.

But how can people just say shit like that? Without any care that the person they’re talking about is in the room, likely overhearing everything?

Javier doesn’t deserve the treatment. He’s so caring, and intelligent, and giving, and—No. No more.

You’re drifting back and forth between frustrations and telling yourself to calm down for the rest of class, and it’s clear on your face to Javier. He overheard everything, especially your quick defense of him. He knows the extra meaning behind your words, or at least hopes that there’s something else there — maybe a bit of his infatuation or school-age crush reciprocated. Eyes stay glancing over at you throughout his lecture and discussion, no comments or questions from you as you hurriedly take notes or scribble out something in the margins of your paper.

Fingers twitch at the sight of your tense shoulders, creased brow, and avoidant eyes. He so badly wants to walk right over, kiss you to release all of the pent-up frustration, and thank you for your defense. What he would give to be able to sit right next to you, huddle together in your own world like in the booth at the bar over the weekend.

He doesn’t get to catch you before you jump up at the end of class that day, quickly leaving after getting dirty looks from your seatmate. Javier is tempted to call the other student down to speak to him, but that feels a step too far, so he quells down the need to protect you and moves on for the day.

It isn’t until the second meeting of the week that he finally gets to see you again, his calls going to voicemail for the two nights following that day. He’s in the hallway, speaking with another professor within the department when you come down the corridor, a sweet autumnal plaid mini dress on with a cardigan over it. He licks his lips at the sight of your thighs covered with translucent black tights that tuck under the ankle of your Dr. Marten boots.

The other man’s voice slowly fades out as Javier focuses on you, attempting and failing to steal his gaze away as you walk past him. Eyes lock with a teasing knowing behind yours, the corners of your lips twitching up as you laugh to yourself that he looks like a dog to a bone.

“Hi, Professor Peña and it’s nice to see you again, Professor Quinn,” you slow down on the other side of the two men, Professor Quinn returning your smile and waving you over for a conversation.

“So lovely to see you again! Lizzy has been asking about you, she misses her favorite babysitter. How have you been? Are you in one of Professor Peña’s classes?” Professor Quinn looks between the two of you, friendly small talk coated with tension that only you and Javier can feel. The secret you share licks flames in your gut, stirring an excitement that you know so much more about him than other students, than his coworkers, than most people. That excitement has anxiety constricting in your chest briefly, afraid of what might happen if you allowed yourself to feel any claim over Javi.

Don’t get so attached. It’s work, a job, and there are other men on your schedule. No one else is like Javi, but canceling on anyone else to spend more time with him is too close to blurring the lines.

Javier looks at you, his heart in his throat as he is the recipient of one of those smiles from you, the one that had him crushing from the first sight of it and the same one he can’t get out of his head when you’re apart. Before Professor Quinn feels the need to repeat his question, Javier clears his throat and nods curtly.

“Yeah, my first graduate-level course. Got to get to the lecture in about five minutes actually.” Javier steps to leave but you hold up a hand.

“Oh, sorry, Professor Peña, but do you mind waiting one moment? I’d like to talk to you about the upcoming assignment on the way to the lecture hall.” Javi has a burning need to say he’ll talk to you after class, to cover any suspicions of his colleague from the prolonged eye contact between the two of you, but he can never deny those eyes of yours — and you seem to know that fact already.

He waits to the side while you quickly finish your conversation with Professor Quinn, who taught you during your undergraduate years and whose daughter you babysat for date nights during the school year and nannied over the summers you stayed in San Antonio.

There’s a flash of jealousy in Javier’s chest, no logic behind it, but he can’t help but feel like he wants to be the only one to know you as a student and outside of class. It’s silly, especially because this relationship is completely innocent, but he can’t stop the feeling from rushing over like a wave.

With a smile, one that he convinces himself isn’t quite like the ones you give him, you say goodbye to your former instructor and turn to Javier. Closing the gap to catch up with him, you start to walk side by side, appropriately inches apart despite the surge of wanting that trails down your left side and his right.

“So what did you want to talk to me about? The upcoming assignment? Is it the midterm research paper?” Javier maintains his professionalism, only glancing at you a few times while his mouth waters at the sight of exposed skin at your collarbone and the scent of your sweet perfume.

“Actually, I kind of just said that…” your voice goes to a lower volume, but still audible to him, “I was hoping that you’d maybe have some appointments left for your office hours? Maybe for a little tutoring session? I have my Spanish midterm coming up soon.”

Javi bites back his smirk, shaking his head to himself at your coded questions. Slowing to a stop in front of the door to the classroom, he turns to you, his boots clicking on the linoleum tiles as he rests a hand on his hip to consider.

“You can have the last one for today,” his voice drops to a low, hushed rasp as you lean in ever so slightly to hear him better, “Y’know, been missin’ you these last few days, bebita. Better have a good excuse.”

He punctuates the statement with a wink and a smirk, a teasing lilt obvious in his voice. A strong hand engulfs the door handle before you can reach for it, opening it and nodding for you to step in ahead of him.

“Ladies first,” he reminds, licking his lips as you look up at him with a quick, whispered reply.

“Think you know I’m not always a lady, Javier.”

He can’t stop watching you the whole class. He knows it’s an issue, that surely it’s obvious at points of the entire hour-and-a-half lecture. He knows that you notice his stare, quick flicks of eye contact, and subtle winks sent his way as the corners of your lips curl up in a smirk.

All he can think about is getting you alone — finally alone again — and teaching you a thing or two, like you requested, of course.

When he glances at you next, you’re staring down at your notebook, oblivious to his attention; the end of your pen is tapping against your bottom lip, your brows knitting together in what looks like confusion while reviewing your written notes. Javier watches as you slip the end of your pen between your lips, licking his own while he sees them pillow against the plastic utensil. The gloss swiped across them shines in the fluorescent lights, and with a flash of the image of your lips around him a couple of weekends ago, his trousers tighten and his mouth dries out.

You look up from your desk to meet his gaze, sharing a knowing smile before he stutters out the next point of his lecture. Clearing his throat, he shakes his head to himself and peels his eyes away from you, keeping them away for the rest of the session to attempt to calm down before he has to walk out in front of all the students with a bulge in his tight trousers.

At the end of class, he announces that he’ll be rescheduling his office hours to this afternoon, to start shortly after he releases everyone for the session. You quickly catch his eyes, the corner of his mouth ticking up with a subtle smirk and a quick wink while the rest of the students pack up their things. Some linger to ask quick questions, but you’re out the door before he can grab your attention again, his eager stance deflating. He wanted you to stay, to talk to you before sitting through all his other office hour appointments before he’s able to see you.

It’s about an hour of talking through fifteen-minute appointments with other students, both graduate and undergraduate, about their upcoming midterm assignments or exams for his courses. He can’t help but roll his eyes each time these students ask for extra credit or make-up notes for the classes that they have missed — most of these kids haven’t bothered to show up since syllabus week. The clock to the left of the door ticks away, and he sweeps up the conversation with the sophomore sitting across his desk once fifteen minutes exactly hit, ushering him out the door and promising another meeting before the midterm, but that he has another appointment to get to.

Taking a breath once the student is heading down the hallway, he combs his eyes around the area outside of his office, his attention being pulled to quick footsteps down the corridor. His eyes take in Dr. Martens, slightly beat up and well-worn, black sheer tights snaking up your legs to the mid-thigh hem of your skirt. Trailing up your dress to the exposed skin at your collarbone, Javi licks his lips.

“Sorry, I’m a little late, Professor Peña. Rushed over here when I realized what time it was sitting in the library,” you apologize, a soft smile on your face holding back the playful glint in your eyes.

“No problem, the last student ran a bit over his appointment time. Please, c’mon in.” Javier gestures for you to walk ahead of him into the open door of his office, watching you glance around the space as he shuts the door behind him. At the click of the handle into place, Javi strides over to you and grabs at your hips, leaning down to catch your lips in a heated and rushed kiss.

His larger frame looms over you, your hands finding his shoulders as your body relaxes into his grip. Javi guides you backward to his desk and around it, pressing you up against the edge of the wood.

“Fuck, bebita, jus’ couldn’t take my eyes off of you the whole fucking day. Look so sweet in your dress. Wanted to rip it off you and take you right there. Let everyone know whose girl you are,” he rasps against your lips, dragging his own along your jaw and working a love bite underneath your ear. A whimper pulls from your throat, leaning your head back for easier access as you squeeze your thighs together.

“Bet you’d like that, huh?” The smirk in his voice is evident, cockiness coating his words as he asks the rhetorical question. “Mi zorrita (My little slut) wants everyone to know who makes her feel so good, doesn’t she?”

“Y-Yes, I want everyone to know that it’s you…” you sigh out when Javier’s lips suck at your collarbone, hunched over you while his bulge presses into your thigh.

“You’d do that if I asked, like a good girl. But you’re all mine, bebita. Don’t want anyone else having you like I do.”

Guilt burns in your chest when he says that; you know he isn’t seeing anyone else, he’s said as much. You’ve dodged the question, avoiding the confrontation of telling him he’s one of a few because then you’d have to explain how he isn’t one of the few — how something with him is different, deeper, makes you long for him when he’s away.

And confessing all of that makes your stomach turn.

Instead of responding with words, your hand curls into his hair, the other resting against his chest and pulling him back up to your face. Kissing him hurriedly, you take the moment of distraction to push him back and down into his desk chair. You fold over him, keeping your lips attached to his and sighing when you feel a rumble of a moan from him when your hand at his chest drops down to palm him through his pants.

“Y’know, you asked for a Spanish lesson, bebita. D’you still want to learn something?” Javier asks, his head pulled back to rest against the seat back. You give him a ‘yes’, kneeling in front of his seat and scraping your nails against his strong thighs.

“Eres mío? Eres mi buena chica? Qué vas a hacer por mí? (Are you mine? Are you my good girl? What are you gonna do for me?)” Javier brushes his fingers against your cheek as he looks down at you. You take a beat to translate his questions in your head, a smirk growing on your face while you unbuckle his belt and undo his button and zipper on his trousers.

“Te voy a hacer sentir bien. (I’m going to make you feel good).” Javier grins down at you when you answer, sighing in relief when you pull his dick out from his boxers. His hand is still at your face, eyes darkening when you look at him.

“Una chica tan lista. My smart girl,” he exhales the last syllable when you swipe your tongue up the underside of his cock, his fingers running against your hair and moving to the back of your head. “Ahora chupa, mi zorrita. (Now suck, my little slut.) Show me what you can do.”

Following his instructions, you take Javi into your mouth, teasing the head of his cock with your tongue. Your hand wraps around the base of him, slowly stroking as you feed more of him into your mouth, all the way until he hits the back of your throat.

Exhaling out of your nose, you take a moment before starting to bob your head in time with your hand. The sounds coming from Javi sitting over you are delicious, the actions and the noises making your saliva drip from the corners of your lips and down his shaft, squelching with the motions of your hand. The hand of his at the back of your head starts to guide you, pushing you down an inch further to press the tip of him into your throat.

“Fuck, bebita, taking my cock so fucking well. Such a good girl for me, my dirty girl.” You hum in acknowledgment and squeeze your thighs together, readying yourself to deepthroat him when there’s a sharp knock on his office door. Javi’s hand holds your head still, looking down at you and whispering expletives as he glances around the room. The knob starts to turn when he calls out, “One sec!”

You pull off of him and open your mouth to whisper, but Javi shakes his head and holds his index finger up to his lips.

“Quiet, baby. There’s nowhere else for you to go, jus’ get under the desk and I’ll get rid of whoever it is quick, okay?”

You nod and crawl into the alcove of his desk, sitting on your knees with your back to the panel that hides you from the rest of the room. Javier wheels his desk chair closer to the desk, his legs on either side of you trapping you in. Eye-level with his still aching cock, your mouth waters, and breath hitches when the door finally opens and a voice comes booming in.

“Javier! Agent Peña! Big Man on Campus! How the heck are ya?” Dean Banks greets Javi with a laugh, striding into his office confidently. He rolls his eyes at the Dean, clearing his throat and scooting one leg closer to you under the desk.

“Dean Banks, nice to see you. I’m fine, how are you?” The polite conversation sparks an idea in your head to distract Javier, licking your lip and leaning in closer. You blow a warm breath over his cock, watching it twitch with the sensation and making Javier’s leg jolt.

“I’m doing great — we’ve gotten some glowing midterm reviews for your courses so I thought I would stop by to give you the good news! And to check in and see how you’re doing with the first full semester you’ve had here so far.” Dean Banks wanders around his office, staying in front of the desk as he pokes at all the books on the shelves lining the walls. “Haven’t gotten mixed up into, uh, those extraneous circumstances we discussed have you?”

Javier opens his mouth to answer at the same time you take him back between your lips, plunging your head down to take half of him in one quick go. The words catch in his throat and he quickly clears it to cover up the noise.

“No, absolutely not, sir. Been focused on, uh, teaching and setting all of my students up for—success. I was just finishing up with my office hours before you walked in.” Javier’s hand searches for you under the desk to pull you away, but you grip both of his hands in your position of power, holding them down as you continue to suck his dick hidden away from view.

“Hm, didn’t see any students walking out in the hallway or out of your office. Must have missed them.” Dean Banks turns his back to Javier and he glances down at his lap to look at you with a glare, mouthing ‘Knock it off’.

In an act of defiance, you take full advantage of the dynamic to make eye contact with him before taking his cock in its entirety down your throat. You gag around it and Javier coughs and groans out of a sudden reaction. The Dean turns around quickly, a puzzled look on his face.

“Y’alright there, Peña?”

Javier nods quickly, wiping the subtle sweat built up by nerves on his forehead and takes a deep breath while you continually take him deep in your throat and move your head up and down his length.

“Yeah, yeah. Just got a, uh, a….headache.”

The Dean nods and claps his hands together, walking toward the door, “Well I won’t keep you for any longer then, better get home and get some rest. Glad to hear there are no issues with your new course. Chat soon, Big Man.”

Javier rolls his eyes again at the Dean’s back when he exits and pulls the door closed behind him. It’s another beat before the coast is clear enough and Javier wheels his chair back, you walking on your knees to keep him in your mouth. His chest is breathing deep, looking up at him through your lashes. Unimpressed anger is painted across his face, a stern shake of his head before his voice comes out low and intimidating, making your thighs squeeze together to feel your panties cling to your wetness.

“Thought that was funny, bebita? Doing that while we had company? Pequeña mocosa. (Little brat.)” Javier ticks his tongue in his mouth and pulls you off of his cock, strings of spit connecting you to his still-aching cock. “Y’know, I should just bend you right over this desk and fuck you full of me, so you have to walk around all day with me dripping out of you. How’s that sound for payback, huh?”

Your mind is reeling with the thought of him fucking you against his desk, a whimper sounding in your throat and your thighs rubbing together for any bit of relief. A hand of yours moves to go between your legs, desperate to touch yourself, but Javier quickly grabs it, hooking your other hand with his larger one and bringing them both above your head.

“Oh, but mi zorrita would like that though, wouldn’t she? Not much of a punishment. Guess I’ll just have to fuck your mouth and come down your throat then.”

He stands from his chair and kicks it away behind him, tugging you closer and to sit taller by your hands above your head. The unoccupied hand grips his cock at the base, positioning himself in front of your face, tapping the head of his cock against your plush bottom lip.

“Open, angel. If you’re gonna be a brat, una mocosa, m’gonna fuck you like one.”

No more protests are had from you, opening your mouth as wide as possible and humming around Javi when he slips into your mouth. He sighs, tilting his head back toward the ceiling with a quiet moan. After a second of being still, halfway filling your mouth, he looks down at you again and starts to thrust his hips — slowly and shallow at first before his patience snaps and he moves quicker and deeper.

His cock hits the back of your throat each time, a bruising pace making your core throb with a burning desire, imagining the same feeling but inside of your pussy. You moan around him, choking when he gets the deepest you’ve had him ever, gagging harshly and swallowing around him to attempt to recover.

Javier is blinded with pleasure, soft begs of your name repeatedly falling from his lips before he gives you another hard fuck to your throat, one last gag before he’s pulling back and spilling ropes of his come onto your tongue. He pulls out, the last few painted across your lips as he looks down at you, breathless while his chest heaves and drops your hands from his grip.

“Fuck, bebita, such a little fucking slut taking me like that.”

In the midst of your own recovery, you stick your tongue out to show him before swallowing his spend, coughing quietly. Javier quickly grabs a few tissues and sits in his desk chair, gingerly wiping off the evidence of his punishment from your face. It’s silent between you two while you watch him focus on the task, reaching a hand up to wrap your fingers around his wrist.

“M’sorry if I was too rough, angel. Caught a bit too caught up there…” he avoids your eyes, tossing aside the Kleenex and tucking himself back into his trousers.

“I liked it,” you confess, standing up from your knees and straddling his lap in his chair as you sit down. “Liked it a lot, actually. I wanna be that for you, like an escape. Turn your brain off, 'cause we both know you overthink everything.”

You run your fingers through his hair and he chuckles, nodding before he kisses you sweetly.

“Thank you, bebita. Such a good girl for me. So sweet,” he muses, giving you another kiss, “Now how about we actually learn some Spanish for your exam?”

The next week is spent either on the phone with Javi in the evenings, when you’ve returned home from any other dates scheduled, or out with him, finding hole-in-the-wall bars and restaurants to avoid any eyes from around campus. Each time you see his name on your caller ID, or see his truck pull up outside of your apartment complex to pick you up, your heart starts with a quickened pulse, dopamine firing in your brain and giving you that stuck in lov—

No feelings. You remind yourself each time you get that serotonin increase, simply excusing it as you enjoy your time with him and the pleasure he eagerly gives you whenever you give to him.

It’s hard not to allow yourself to feel around him; Javi makes it so easy to indulge. Little moments like him calling the mechanic and getting the cost of your repairs brought down, driving you over to pick it up and paying for it himself to make sure they didn’t haggle anymore; ordering your favorite drink if he arrived at a bar or restaurant before you, or getting you something new that he thought you would enjoy; a hand on your back or waist or encompassing your own, guiding you without overpowering. Small gifts given; new books purchased when you’ve browsed bookstores he’s found for you, new favorite dresses or lingerie filling your closet that Javier claimed were as much gifts for himself as they were for you.

His care was ever present, not overwhelming until it came to the point that you thought about him and how much he was there, integrated into your life and habits and moments of joy.

Absolutely terrifying. But you couldn’t stop.

And he was feeling like he couldn’t stop either.

He didn’t know if he was overdoing it all with you, new to this sort of arrangement and its usual boundaries, but he hoped that the fact that you kept laughing and smiling, initiating kisses or more with him, that you were enjoying yourself as much as he was.

There were tiny snapshots where he caught himself thinking about, feeling more for you. When you sneak into his office on the days you have other classes, steal minutes with him before you have to go across campus or he has to go teach or to a department meeting. To-go cups of black coffee on your handful of morning dates at the weekend, a reminder that you made observations about him just as he was you. When you stood up for him, defended him when the other student was spreading rumors. Sure, they were true, and he’d told you as much, but to hear your subtle protectiveness was warming his long cold heart.

He hadn’t felt like this before, and he never thought he would have the chance. Colombia had jaded him, hardened him to stone, but you were slowly chiseling away to reveal his moldable core, reshaping him into a person he knew before and at the same time, a person who was only becoming familiar these days.

Could this be love? If he didn’t know how you felt or where you stood? He never thought he was in love before, and this confirms those thoughts. Never has he felt like this, never has he been so clumsy and boyish in his relationship at times.

It’s a Thursday evening, and his classes for tomorrow are scheduled to have a break to give them more time to study for midterms. Fiddling with his phone in his hands, he wonders what you might be up to, going back and forth over whether or not to call.

Before he can think anymore, he’s finding your contact, brought straight to the top of the list when he changed the name to ‘Bebita’, and hits the green phone button.

The line rings a few times, cutting out with an answer and a rustle over the microphone before he hears your voice.

“Hi, Javi.” He can hear you sigh, sensing an edge of stress or impatience in your tone.

“Hey, bebita. You busy tonight? I wanna see you.”

“Oh, Javi, I don’t know if I can make tonight work. I’m using this weekend to study for all my midterms and to finish writing all my essays due next week and…I don’t really have time, m’really sorry,” you sound timid, exhausted and it makes him on edge, his brain immediately centering on how he can make you feel better.

“Do you need help with anything, cariño? Can I do anything?” He sits up on the couch, standing in the next moment to pace near his boots and his keys laid out on the counter, ready to pounce when you say the word.

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know…I feel like I can’t even think about making my dinner right now. I’m sorry.”

The coating of your voice and the sniffle through the phone are unmistakable; you’re on the verge of tears attempting to think of what he can do, the avalanche of stress you’re feeling. A crack sharpens across his heart, hands craving to hold you close and to fix it all for you.

“Oh, bebita, dulzura, you don’t have to apologize to me. I wanna spend time with you, help you. Don’t need to be going out or doing anything else than just sittin’ with you,” he nests his phone between his shoulder and ear while he slips his boots on, “Do you mind if I come by? If it stresses you out, you can tell me to leave but if I’m there maybe I can find something to help with.”

It’s quiet on the line while you consider, another sniffle nearly sending him out the door without your actual answer.

“Okay, yeah. You can come over. But I look like a mess and my apartment looks like a tornado went through it and I might cry in front of you.”

Javier chuckles and shakes his head while he grabs his phone with his hand to keep it against his ear. His free hand grabs for his keys, plucking his jacket off the coat rack and already walking out the door.

“Don’t worry about any of that, bebita. M’here to help you, I wanna take care of you,” he hears a hum of acknowledgment from you, “I’ll be there in like half an hour, alright? Gotta make a couple stops while I’m out and then I’ll be there for you, okay?”

“Okay…” you say quietly, “Thank you, Javi.”

“I’ll see you in a bit, angel.”

Exactly thirty minutes later, a knock raps on your front door, strong and short. Glancing up at the entrance, you see the lock turned and call out loud enough to be heard in the hallway.

“It’s open!”

The door unlatches and swings open, the rustle of bags hitting your ears before the sight of Javi hits your eyes. He juggles the thin plastic handles of the grocery haul in his hands, shaking his head as he pushes the door closed behind him with his boot-clad foot.

“Don’t like that you're keeping your door unlocked, bebita. S’not safe, what if I wasn’t me?” The strict, skeptical agent shows through — paranoia in his eyes while he sets down the bags on your counter, walking back over to lock the door and shrug off his black leather jacket. Underneath his outerwear, the black short-sleeve button-up clings to his torso and stretches at his shoulders. It’s tucked into his usual jeans with his belt on display, and one look exchanged with him reminds him to kick off his shoes — baby blue socks with small figures of different types of dogs patterning the surfaces of them.

“Hello to you, Javier,” you chuckle and turn back to your books, continuing to read over the chapter summary you were engrossed with before his entrance.

His sock-covered feet pad softly over to you at your dining table, taking in the sight of you before he stands behind you, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

“Hi, bebita.” He smiles when you lay your head back to look up at him behind you, grinning and giggling when he leans over again to kiss you. “Missed you.”

“I’m just giving you shit.” A laugh leaves your mouth in quiet breaths when he rolls his eyes, steps back to your kitchen counter and starts to unpack everything. You pull yourself away from the table to follow him over, shaking your head at all of the snacks, drinks, and extra pens and notecards spilling out of the bags. “Gosh, Javi. How much stuff did you get?”

He glanced at you sheepishly, shrugging, “Didn’t know what you might want, so kind of got everything I thought you’d like.”

One hand lands on his bicep closest to you, turning his attention to you for you to lean up and kiss him sweetly. You can feel your heart in your throat at the expanse of his thoughtfulness, truly wanting to come over to help without any other expectations.

“I like your socks, by the way.” Another kiss is stolen before you’re back to the table, plopping down and attempting to fall back into studying. A long sigh leaves your lips and Javi frowns when he looks over at you, hyper-focused on all the text laid out in front of you. He putters around your kitchen, poking through to find plates and silverware to keep from asking you; dishing up the takeout he got after putting away the snacks and drinks, he walks back over and sets a plate down in front of you.

“Pause for a few minutes, angel, you gotta eat. And I got your favorite from that Thai restaurant we went to last week.” Javi takes the seat at the corner next to you, pulling away your books to clear a spot for you to eat. The look on your face is painful when you pick up the fork as if any more energy expended for a task other than studying is too much to handle.

“Thank you, Javi. Really. I think it would have been one of those eating shredded cheese from the bag or potato chips over the sink kind of nights if you didn’t come.”

“No need to apologize, bebita. M’always here for you,” he speaks tenderly with a smile, the two of you making light conversation while you eat. Before he clears the plates back to the kitchen, he takes your hand lying on the surface and toys with your fingers. “You can tell me to fuck off and I won’t be offended, but I’ll stick around for a few minutes in case you need me, okay?”

Immediately you shake your head and grip his hand in yours, “No, please stay. D’you mind helping me study? Like quizzing me or something? I want….I want you to stay here. Please.”

Javier holds back a wide smile, giddiness kicking up inside him. He clears his throat and nods, squeezing your hand. He stands up and bends forward to kiss your forehead, “Course I’ll help you study, angel. Let me clean up all this and then we’ll get started, yeah?”

It’s for the next couple of hours that Javier studies with you, asking you sample exam questions from the textbook and quizzing you with the notecards that you’ve made. He keeps you supplied with snacks and hydrated with water, intermittently joking with you to keep you relaxed.

It’s about eleven o’clock at night, Javi’s been here for four hours, and the rest of the weekend is ahead of you both. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, newly made notecards in his hands while you pace the kitchen in front of him. A hand runs through your hair, tugging and sighing when you can’t remember.

“God, I don’t—I don’t know…” You continue your pacing and shake your head, feeling your heart rate increase and your throat start to constrict with anxiety. The hand in your hair moves to press against your chest. “I really don’t know, shit, can you—can you tell me please?”

“Lombroso’s concept of a born criminal is atavism.”

The next few cards you also forget or get wrong and after the last incorrect answer, you stop in the tracks of your pacing. Angry tears of frustration burn at your eyes, words caught in your throat, and breaths come out short and harsh. Javier looks up at you when your movement stops, brows knitting together with concern when he sees the tears in your eyes and hears the clipped inhales and exhales.

“Bebita, c’mere.” Javi pats his lap and you shuffle over, straddling his legs and sitting in his lap to face him. “Let’s call it for tonight. We have all weekend to get you feeling confident for the exam, but trying to push yourself anymore tonight is only going to make you feel worse.”

“But—"

Javier shakes his head and brings his hands up to cradle your face, thumbs swiping away the few tears that have fallen.

“No, no ‘buts’. There’s no need to be getting upset about it. You’re exhausted and overworked, you’ve been doing this all day. And you know all of this, I know you do, angel. You’re too tired to concentrate and you need to rest.”

“God, I wish I could turn my brain off. This is all I’m gonna be thinkin’ about.”

“I can help with that, bebita.” Javier’s hands run up and down your thighs, snaking around to palm your ass with a gentle squeeze.

“Oh, yeah? And how would you do that?” You play dumb, feigning innocence to his suggestion. Brow cocked up, mouth pursued in curiosity.

“Hm, think we both know what I would do, but m’happy to tell you.” His hands roam again, trailing up your sides to cup under your breasts through your flimsy t-shirt. Your nipples pebble underneath the material when his thumbs brush over them, a satisfied smirk on his face at the sight. “I’ll take you into your bedroom. Kiss you, play with you until you’re dripping for me. And then I’m gonna use my mouth on you, jus’ like the first time, and make you come for me over and over until I think you’re ready. And when you’re begging for me, I’ll give you exactly what you want, bebita. My sweet zorrita is gonna get exactly what she needs — a good fucking.”

Your hips start to grind into his lap, nodding slowly as you listen to him and whining quietly as your eyes close. His hands stall your motions, bringing your attention to him as he admires you from below.

“Let’s go, baby. Think you need it now,” he rasps out, helping you up from his lap and following close behind you. His hands stay at your hips while you walk ahead of him at a delayed pace, his lips kissing and teeth biting at your neck. Trailing down the hallway, he slowly undresses you, leaving each article of clothing on the floor in your wake. Once the two of you reach your bedroom, he turns you toward him and kisses you hurriedly, moaning against your lips when he feels your hand palm him over his jeans.

Javier pulls himself back from you, shaking his head as he steps you backward to hit the edge of your bed, pushing you to sit and nodding to the center of the mattress. You scoot back a bit until he stops you in place, getting onto his knees at the side of the bed and hooking your legs over his shoulders.

He unbuttons a few of the top buttons on his shirt, loosening the material around his shoulders, and licks his lips as he takes in the sight of your glistening cunt.

“God, bebita, you’re always so ready for me. Whenever I want you. Do I get you that worked up being around you, hm?” His tone is cocky as he speaks, dragging two fingers through your folds and collecting some of your wetness. He slips those fingers in his mouth, working his tongue around them and moaning at the taste of you. The fingers pull out of his mouth with an audible pop, and you get onto your elbows to look at him in the eyes as he pushes those same fingers into your entrance.

“Fuck, Javi…” you moan, rolling your head back as he fucks you with his fingers, shallow and slow at first. He’s mesmerized by the view of you taking it easily, sweet little sounds hitting his ears in a satisfying way. “M-More, please. Pretty please.”

“Only because you asked so nicely, angel.” He chuckles and adds another digit, picking up his speed and getting as deep into you as he can. His other hand uses its thumb to run quick circles on your dripping clit, moaning to himself when your noises get louder and higher pitched. “You close already, bebita?”

“Yesyesyes, fuck, m’gonna come—“ You clench around his fingers, gripping the duvet under your hands.

“Ask, baby. Gotta mind your manners, mi zorrita.”

“Ple—please may I come, Javi? M’so close, oh my god,” you tack a whine at the end, lifting your hips and huffing out a breath when he pushes them back down.

“Go ahead, bebita. Come for me—" You moan his name loudly and squeeze your eyes shut, your walls gripping around his fingers tightly. “Oh, yes, fuck. That’s it, angel, that’s it.”

He works you through your orgasm, your breaths evening out after a minute. Once you’ve come down, you realize he’s inching closer between your legs, lips dragging along your inner thighs. Before you can get a word out, his mouth is on you, sucking your clit harshly. Your whine raises in pitch, hands tangling in his hair to push him away.

When he lifts his head, his dark eyes find yours as he licks his lips.

“Gonna let me taste this sweet little cunt, angelita? Make good on all my promises,” he challenges you and you breathe out a ‘yes’, all the permission he needs to put his head between your thighs.

At his first full taste, a switch flips and he devours you like a starving man — sucking, licking, fucking you with his tongue. You’re writhing under him, one strong hand splayed against your lower tummy to keep you down.

“Javi, oh fuck, feels so fucking good—oh my god, you’re so fucking good at this. Has anyone ever told you that?” You ramble the closer you get and Javi smirks against you, the words egging him on to give you more.

He pulls two conservative orgasms from you with his mouth, sucking your clit and licking into your walls with his tongue. Your brain is slowly shutting off, study materials are completely forgotten, and limbs light as air as you lay back on the bed.

Javier stands from the floor, a soft groan and clicking of his knees drawing your attention to him. He strips down from his own clothes, standing in his underwear and nodding to you on the bed.

“Scoot up, baby — that’s it, good girl.” He smirks when you move languidly, reaching out for him when he climbs onto the bed on his knees. Your arms fall to rest stretched above your head, putting you completely on display for him.

“How d’you want me, Javi?” you purr and it nearly sends him reeling, but he shakes his head and smirks down at you.

“Jus’ like this, babygirl. Wanna be able to see you, watch your pretty face as I take care of you.” Javier reaches his hand toward you, instructing you to lick. He takes the same hand and wraps it around his cock, stroking himself as he spreads your legs with his other hand. Settling between them, he drags the head of his cock through your folds, nudging your overly sensitive clit and chuckling darkly when your thighs twitch.

“Javi, please—" He shuts you up with further teasing, slipping himself inside, just the tip. He hisses from behind his bared teeth, rolling his head back to recover before he gives a few pumps of his hips and pulls out of you completely. The next move he teases your clit again, sliding his cock down to prod at the entrance of your tightest hole before moving back up to your cunt slipping just the tip inside of you again.

Under him, you're twitching and writhing with whines and whimpers, gripping the sheets.

“Javi, please, need you.” You choke out, a soft sob of a moan when he keeps fucking you with only his tip, refusing to give you any more inches. The next word leaves on an exhale before you can think about it, “Daddy…”

“What was that, bebita? Didn’t quite hear you.”

“Daddy, fuck me, please.”

Javier stills for a moment, processing exactly what you said while you’re silent, anxiety heightening with each tick of the clock and his lack of response. His hips are still shallowly fucking you, involuntary whimpers escaping your mouth.

“Daddy, huh? You wanna call me that? Got you so cockdumb before I’ve even given it to you.” His eyes are nearly pitched-black, desire evident in his roaming, worshiping hands.

“Yes, yes please, daddy. I need you, please.” The words catch in your throat and you arch your back for him, tits slightly jiggling with the motion.

“You wanted to work on your Spanish, huh? No daddy, bebita. Llámame Papí (Call me Papí). Say it, bebita. Say it for me, buena chica.” His acceptance of your knee-jerk word spill has your mind melting, clenching your walls around the tip of his cock that’s buried inside of you. “Say it.”

“Papí…” you exhale, the noise choking in your throat when he thrusts hard to fill you up to the hilt. A sobbing moan leaves your mouth when he pulls nearly out of you, only to start a punishing pace fucking you hard and deep.

“That’s right, bebita. M’taking care of you, right? Just like a papí should. You call me that as much as you want, angel. Like hearing it come from you.”

Javier grunts at the strain of how hard he’s fucking you, the sounds of your whines and his groans mixing into a melody with the slaps of skin together. It’s filthy if anyone was looking in, but the thought of that makes him fuck you harder, relishing in the sound of your wetness squelching around his cock.

“God, mi bebita, you are taking my cock so well. You like it? Am I filling you up?”

“Yes—oh my god, taking care of me…”

“That’s right, bebita, M’gonna take care of you. You wanna come on my cock, angel?”

“Yes please, daddy…”

Javi’s hips stutter at you saying it, starting again harder and faster, “Not daddy, bebita. You wanna call me that, you call me Papí, baby. Let me hear you say it.”

“P-Papí, oh my fuck, feels so good. So full, Papí.” You’re rambling under him, incomplete and incoherent thoughts, “Oh, fuck— Just there— Papí, papí, papí, ohmygod right there!”

The name is dripping with sweetness from your lips, snapping something into his brain. He’s desperate to provide for you, to take care of you in any way you need. Right now, that is fucking you dumb enough to forget about your stress. Tomorrow, it’ll be getting you coffee in the morning and helping you reevaluate your study materials.

Underneath him, you’re feeling something of the same, enamored with the man above you. The same one who drove around town to pick up things he thought you would like, feeding you, helping you study. The one who smiles at you in the halls, and calls you his babygirl behind doors. Now, he’s fucking you into oblivion and melting your brain to mush to give you what you need. He grips your legs and presses them to fold at your sides, the adjusted position bringing him deeper than before. The head of him hits that special spot inside of you, over and over until it’s driving you to the edge fast.

“Oh, fuck! Papí! Please—Please, please, please. Gonna come, please may I come, Papí?” Your brain turns on its entire leftover power to ask politely, knowing your manners would still have to be minded with your cockdumb mind.

“Such a good girl, so polite. Come for me, bebita. Let me feel your tight pussy grip my cock.” Javier groans when you let go as soon as you get his permission, relishing in the look on your face with a perfect ‘O’ mouth and walls sucking him in further as his thrusts slow down. The tightness of you brings him to his own peak, feeling precum dribbling out inside of you as he gets as close to the edge as possible.

“Oh fuck, fuck, angel. Gonna fucking come, where d’you want me?” His brow knits together with a look of pain, and you breathlessly answer.

“Outside, please, Papí. Anywhere else you want.”

He nods and pulls out of you, using his fist to fuck himself, painting his come across your torso in long ropes. Javier moans your name over and over under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as his chest heaves with relief.

It’s quiet, nothing spoken while you both crash down. In a moment of clarity in his post-orgasm haze, he stretches over to your nightstand to grab a few tissues, wiping you clean of his spend. He tosses it in your desk trash bin, searching around the floor for his clothes. When he picks up his boxers, you make a small noise of protest and grab his attention.

“Don’t—Um, would you—" You can’t get the words out, shyness clawing at your throat. Javier fills in the blanks, smiling softly at you as he drops his boxers and climbs back onto your bed over your lying form.

“D’you want me to stay, bebita?”

You nod and smile sheepishly, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinning wider when he leans down to kiss you chastely.

“Can you ask me, angel?”

“Will you have a sleepover with me…Papí?” you giggle as you tack on the name at the end, Javier smirking and nodding his head.

“Of course I’ll stay. And if you keep pulling that out all the time, there’s going to be a lot of fucking in random places. Jus’ does something for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. Think you know that, bebita. Mi bebita.”

“Well, that does the same thing for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. I like being your bebita.”

“Siempre, Bebita. Always gonna be it.” Javier punctuates the conversation with another kiss, laying down completely next to you and wrapping you up in his arms. His fingers play with your hair, laying your head on his chest as you close your eyes.

A thought pops into your head, picking up your head to look Javi in the eyes.

“Are you gonna be going to the department event next week?”

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now, angel?”

“Yes, now please answer.” You poke his chest, giggling when he pinches your side playfully.

“I will be there, yes, Bebita. I’m assuming you’re going too?” He asks as he closes his eyes, exhaustion overcoming him slowly.

You smile and bite your lip, tracing shapes against his skin, “Well, would you wanna pick out my dress for it?”

That grabs his attention, his eyes shooting open with a grin growing across his face.

“Gonna let me choose what I get to see you in, Bebita? Don’t know if you want that, 'cause I could have you walking around in nothing.”

You snort out a laugh, shaking your head before laying on his chest again and closing your eyes to sleep.

“We both know you wouldn’t do that. Would you really want all those people looking at me? Thought I was all yours, don’t you wanna keep me to yourself?”

“Damn, you’re right. Guess I’ll have to pick out a pretty dress and then I can take you home and have you walk around in nothing for me.” He smiles and kisses the top of your head, sighing out a tired exhale. “Now, sleep time, Bebita. You dream of the pretty dresses I’ll get for you, no exams, and I’ll be dreamin’ about you in nothing.”

A laugh escapes your lips, nodding in agreement, “Goodnight, Javi.”

“Night, Bebita.” There’s more he wants to say, burning in his chest, but he knows it’s too soon — too much right now and it would scare you off. Instead, he holds you closer and kisses your head again, drifting off contently with you in his arms to take care of.

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