#rdr1 Javier smut

[millieisawriter]

For old times' sake

javier escuella x reader

summary: you stumble upon a man you haven't seen since the gang fell apart. a man you have a history with. a man you now hate with passion, and vice versa. it takes just a few glasses of tequila for the thin line between longing and loathing to get blurry.

wc: 2.3k

warnings: entirety of this is a smut, dub con, hate sex, sex under the influence, use of derogatory/objectifying language, face slapping (like twice only tho), rough sexual practices, spitting (like once), toxicity

obviously this is a 18+ piece, do i have to make it any clearer?

all pics taken from pinterest

♡this was requested♡

a/n: this is what 163 days without sex and a bit of whiskey at midnight did to my writing. hope you enjoy. please don't yell at me. if anyone needs me, i'll be hiding under my bed. also, wrote this one on my phone, sorry for any possible mistakes

"Tequila, por favor," you said, tossing some money onto the bar.

Your accent made it clear you weren't from here. However, the bartender didn't seem to care. He poured you a glass and turned to the next customer. Meanwhile, you brought the glass to your lips and tipped your head back, swallowing the liquid in one go. It burnt your throat, and you loved it. It was a feeling you had gotten used to.

Then you heard it. A voice you hadn't heard in years, and didn't think you'd hear ever again.

"Look who it is," Javier sneered. He was leaning against a nearby wall when you turned to look at him. "Long time no see, traidora."

He looked different. As if the years had been as unkind to him as they were to you. Despite that he looked somehow... more attractive. There was just something desirable in the time and pain written on his face.

But his intense gaze burned through you the same, just like the liquor did to your throat a moment prior.

"Javier Escuella," you mused out loud, smirking as you watched the man approach closer. "Didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"Should've let me keep thinking I'm what you came here for."

"You ain't. But I'm glad I found you. You look good."

"Do I?" he tilted his head. "Maybe it's because I don't have to live with the guilt of betraying my family."

"You wound me, Javier," you theatrically sighed, "are you saying I don't look good?"

Javier smirked and shook his head at your playful comment. It wasn't time nor place to play that game. Yet it was good to know that overly confident side trait never left you.

"You look more than good," the man decided to play along, "you still look fuckable— "

"Ain't you just the perfect gentleman?"

"—like a whore."

The last part caught you slightly off guard, but you quickly composed yourself. "I ain't drank enough to be spoken to like this."

"Next round is on me, then."

Javier slid onto the stool next to you, casually leaning against the counter as if that were just one of friendly reunions. He ordered drinks for the both of you, so at least you hadn't come for nothing.

"I never thought you could get meaner, but here you are," you let out a low chuckle.

"Meaner?" Javier repeated. "I'm buying you a drink, how's that mean?"

"Cause you're just tryna get into my pants."

"I didn't suggest that, not yet at least. But now that you mention it, we could do that. For the old times' sake, right?"

The bartender put another glass in front of you. This time a bit fuller, so you didn't down it immediately. Instead, you took the glass and eyed the liquid inside, as if searching for an answer.

"Usually I like to shoot men that offer me sex," you spoke quietly, your gaze still on the glass, "but you're lucky I'm feeling sentimental and horny tonight."

"Horny never was something you lacked," he drank his own drink, "glad to see that didn't change."

So a few drinks and many smart-ass comments later you found yourself following Javier upstairs, to a room he rented for the night. For old times sake, as he put it. Maybe you were just curious if he was still as good as back in your gang days, back when he was quite an often guest in your tent late at night.

Javier slammed the door shut after the two of your entered the rented room, and no sooner his lips were on yours. The strength of his body pressing onto yours forced you to take a few steps back, your back eventually meeting with the wall. His fingers impatiently undid your corset, then danced with the buttons of a shirt you wore beneath it, but you shouldn't have judged him for the quick pace since your hands were trying to get him undressed just as fast.

You lost the track of reality in that moment, the tension that had been building up in you finally able to get some relief.

"You know," you managed to find a moment to speak again, "I always wondered what I'd do if I ever met you again."

"Mhm," Javier hummed in response, not interested in what you were saying. His focus was mostly on undoing your pants after he had lied you on the bed.

"Thought maybe I'd just walk away. Or maybe I'd kill you. But this... this might be better."

Javier suddenly took your face in his hand. No, actually, he grabbed it. He grabbed it so hard your lips formed a duck face.

"You didn't talk as much shit back in the days," Javier commented. "I really wanted to fuck you, but you're making me wanna put your mouth to a different use."

If you had to do it, you would have. But you'd prefer not to. After all, you hadn't gotten laid in a long time, and sucking a man off wouldn't help you out in any way. Maybe for the first time you wished you had shut up sooner.

Javier's thumb brushed over your lower lip as a devilish smile appeared on his profile. "Are you gonna keep talking," he let go of your face and gave it a little slap, "or will you give me what I want, hm?"

"Only if you'll give me what I want," you shot back.

That was basically the last sentence that left your mouth before it was stuffed with Javier's cock. The man perched on the edge of the bed, his legs spread to make space for you on your knees.

His dick seemed to fit in your throat like a missing piece of a puzzle. Almost as if every curve, every vein was designed for your throat to take. His size made you fight holding back a cough, and as much as you could stop it by occasionally pulling away to run your tongue over the tip, you had to close your eyes to stop the tears which only increased every time Javier forced your head back down. You couldn't give him the satisfaction.

When the man saw that, he yanked your head back by your hair, stopping you. "I want you to look me in the eyes."

Unfortunately, it seemed you'll have to give him the satisfaction. As you opened your eyelids, the tears ran down from the corners of your eyes, ruining the eyeliner you had on.

"Back to work now," he ordered, and for some reason you obeyed without an argument.

His hand was still in your hair, now just gently resting there, as your mouth descended down his cock again. You did it slowly, and never breaking the eye contact, as he wished.

A low groan left the man's mouth when his hand started to set the pace and rhythm. At one point stopping the cough became impossible, you couldn't help but choke after his cock hit the back of your throat for what felt like the hundredth time. The faster he started to guide your head, the more afraid you were that's how it's gonna end. And you'd be left there with no profit.

Just then, he once again pulled your head away, a string of saliva connecting your mouth with the tip of his cock. "Enough," he rasped heavily, "I didn't drag you up here just for that."

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, giving the man a smirk. "I was starting to get worried."

"Worried I'd forget you're not a paid whore?"

His comment ignited a flicker of anger in you. "And here I was hoping you'll pretend to have kept an ounce of courtesy."

"Am I wrong, though?" he asked, helping you up. "Isn't that what you'd always been to me?"

You shoved him back so that he lied down, and your hands were on his chest as you straddled him. "From what I remember, you were obsessed with me."

"There's a lot of things a man will say or do to get what he wants."

With that, he pulled you into an aggressive kiss. He didn't let you be the one in advantage for long. His strong arms grabbed you in a way that let him easily turn so that you were now underneath him.

"Don't treat me like..." you stuttered out, "like I'm some kind of an object..."

"Mhm," he muttered against the skin of your neck, his lips marking you even if this would never happen again.

"...b-because I ain't just—"

He interrupted you. "Of course you ain't," his tone was mocking, and as he said the sentence, his dick entered your heated core with a violent force.

It was as if he had done it for the first time. You were tight, and his dick was hard as a rock. You thanked yourself in your thoughts for being such a horny little bitch, because it would have been quite painful if your cunt hadn't been dripping from all that build up tension.

Secretly, you liked the way he talked to you. You didn't remember him to be this disrespectful, he was always putting up an appearance of a hopeless romantic. Turns out it was exactly what it was, just an appearance to get laid easier. Now he knew he didn't have to pretend anymore. But you liked it. It was something that made your mind beg for more.

"Fuck, Javier," you involuntarily moaned out. You didn't plan on doing that, but the way his dick pounded into your cervix, like it was going to leave a bruise, made you see stars.

"Mhm, what is it?" he asked, one of his hands going to grab your face again. "What are you calling my name for?" and he gave you another slap on the cheek.

"I fucking hate you," you declared right into his face.

This time he didn't have any smart comment to shoot back with. Instead he forced his thumb into your mouth, making you open it just so that he could spit into it.

"Swallow it, puta."

You caught yourself fulfilling his order before thinking about it. His spit tasted no other than the alcohol you had drank tobegher earlier, with a tint of tobacco.

You hissed, "You're disgusting."

"And you talk way too fucking much."

He pulled out of you just to quickly take ahold of your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as if punishing you for talking back. With one quick move, Javier flipped you over onto your stomach.

"Ass up."

You weren't going to listen this time. "No."

He laughed darkly, the sound filled with sarcasm. "You don't get to say no."

He didn't need your obedience to force his dick back inside. Since you didn't want to do as he said, he was going to deal with that another way. He pounded into you as you lied flat on your stomach. You thought he couldn't fuck into you any deeper, but this position proved you wrong.

It felt too damn good for you to try to restrain the moans that were spilling out of your mouth. You knew it was serving to feed Javier's ego, and you hated the idea of it.

So you had to insult him a little more between the thrusts. "You're... a... fucking... idiot!"

It didn't stop his thrusts from becoming harder, more forceful, a punishment to your defiance. In fact, your words only spurred him on. The bed creaked beneath the strength of his movements.

You hated the way your own body betrayed you. The way your pussy got more and more wet by the moment. Well, at least you didn't have to look Javier in the face.

"Seems you're into it," the man retorted as the room grew rich into the squelch of your dripping core gratefully taking his cock.

"All these years and you're the same asshole," you tried to argue, at the same time subconsciously tilting your pelvis back. "Oh, shit," you whined at the sensation of his dick being buried even deeper than before.

The line between hate and desire blurred completely. Your body gave in to the pleasure, and you let the man do whatever he wished to.

You felt Javier slow down for a moment, just to grab your hips and force them up. He had you where he wanted you from the beginning. Before you could even think of anything to say, he slammed into you, now the sound of his skin slapping against yours more apparent than ever.

You buried your face into the pillow that muffled your sounds at least to some extent. The more he fucked into you, the less you could think, and maybe he finally fucked the ability to talk back out of you. The tension in your lower abdomen grew tighter, every inch of your body begging for a release.

"Fucked out whore," Javier said, but your head was empty of any replies.

All you could do was grip the sheets tighter. Your body was moving on its own, rocking in the right rhythm to cooperate with the man. His force, with which he took you, rid your mind of any thoughts. You just needed to hold on, because it felt too damn good, and you were too close to the edge, to fight it anymore.

"Fuck, I can't hold it anymore," the man grunted through gritted teeth. You could feel his cock starting to twitch, and you knew it could mean only one thing.

Javier's breathing grew more rugged as he neared his climax. Feeling you tighen up around him was all he needed. With one final deep thrust, he buried himself inside you. You cried out, having reached your peak at the same time. Your cunt pulsed around his twitching cock as he shot his release into you. It was warm, flooding your core, filling you up to the brim.

And that was it. You let him treat you like a whore for old times sake. Was it worth it? It was a question you were going to have a lot of time to ponder over.

[bigboy-lovers-unite-writes]

Imagine slapping their asses 🙏🙏

•Dutch; immediately pissed off, depends on who slapped his ass, he might push his cigar into their arm or something out of anger. Will grumble if it's his partner and shoo them away, smokes enough cigarettes after that to take away ten years on his life (it definitely made a camp deafening sound when they slapped it)

•Arthur; the most shocked face ever, just has to stand there for a minute to figure out whatever the fuck just happened. Will stumble over his words, before glaring at the person and chest bump them a few times, but secretly he's nearly popping a boner 💔💔

•John; eye twitches, trying to hold back grabbing his revolver and threatening the person. Says something sarcastic and crosses his arms like the dumb child he is. Will definitely be so damn embarrassed that he flushes as red as Sean's hair. Definitely blabs about it to Abigail later and gets huffy when she laughs

•Hosea; jumps a foot in the air and his body bends like a banana 😭 he's not mad, he'd never get mad, but he is a bit embarrassed about that. He sighs softly, tells a little story about his youth and how he would be able to handle it when he was younger as he rubbed his sore ass, then says he's too old for all that 🫶🫶

•Javier; yells out the loudest Spanish he's ever said, nearly falls forward from the shock of it as both hands go to cover his ass. Can't see it since he pulls his poncho up over his entire face, but he is burning bright red and thinking about it for the rest of the month. Will never trust being around the person again, will side eye them and cover his ass with anything if he's around them again 😢

•Bill; Two different ways this could go. One, he's drunk as a bitch and he hurls a beer bottle them and starts cursing and chasing them all over yelling about how he's no queer, even if it was a woman that slapped his ass, or he will just glare and threaten them a little bit and try to intimidate them if by god he's not drunk

•Kieran; actually stands up straight for once instead of being like a shrimp literally 24/7. Looks like a bug when you pick up a rock, eyes all wide and face flushed even pinker than it usually already naturally is. Definitely looks spaced out the rest of the day, probably can't stop thinking about it for sure

•Sean; gasps and is completely over dramatic, falling and pulling whoever slapped his ass down with him. Definitely tells everyone that the person slapped his ass, and he sounds strangely proud about it too..

•Lenny; poor boy doesn't know what to do, he's stuttering and gripping at his favorite book that he was reading, glancing around as he tried to say something. Might quirk a smile after a while, but it's whenever that person isn't around (he's so embarrassed don't do it again he can't handle it 💔)

��Micah; immediately cracks up and dares the person to slap his ass again, sticking it out slightly. He then promptly slaps that person's ass twenty times harder than they slapped his. It becomes a little game between the two whenever they see each other

•Charles; the absolute politest, might get a bit grumbly. 'oh my' is the first words outta his mouth 😭 will ask them why they did that and if it was supposed to be funny. He's like a mother in this sense, but also can't stop grinning since he actually liked it ❤️

[tenessee-walker]

arthur john javier dick sizes in your ops?

HEHHEHWHWHWHHWHWHWHWHHWHWHWHWHHWHWHWHEHHEHEHEHHEHe

also I realise my knowledge of sex makes me appear like a SLUT 😡 , however ive had sex twice so like 💀 also I hope y’all do be knowing that I wrote this right next to my bf, risking my whole tumblr acc being discovered by this man but hey he didn’t see so you’re WELCME

Arthur

oh you know it’s big. you know.

he’d be big and THICK like woah, we be needing DOS hands for this one ladies and gents

100000000% got that lil ass vein in the underside that’s super duper sensitive

takes a few mins of stretching to make it fit trust 🙏

John

he’s not too girth

like he’s decently girthy but he’s looooooooong 🥹

like woah hey there that’s MY cervix, how are you there and not even halfway in like haha (i don’t know where my cervix is)

super duper sensitive

lick that one lil spot on the underside and he’s like 😫😫😫😫😩😩😩😩😩

Javier

he’d be a MIX

medium ass cock except it’s not that medium

like thick and slightly long like aha pick n mix, buy one get one free type shit ykw im sayin

you be getting that THROAT bulge when you give him head 😍🔥

[harpsinfinity]

Javier escuella x female!reader

Smut !!

It had been such a long, hard day for Javier. Failing a mission, being bucked off his horse, and thrown in the mud. Literally.

He'd whisked both you and him into strawberry, in need of a hot bath and his beloved partner by his side.

You ended up in a room in a random hotel, the first you could find. It was a pleasant change from uncomfortable cots and scratchy pillows.

The sheets provided were soft as you sank yourself down on him. Javier was exhausted from the day, but who was he to deny you ?

He had you stuffed full of his cock, blunt nails digging into your hips as he lazily bounced you on him. A sinful combination of both of your whines and groans filled the room, thin walls doing nothing to conceal your acts.

But neither of you cared, whoever heard would never know that it was you and him

He looked so beautiful; messy hair splayed out on the pillow. His eyes half-lidded and drunk on pleasure as you rode him

"So good for me, mija" The large warm hands splayed across your waist slide upwards towards your chest, they brush over your spit-slicked, puffy nipples. His hands flick and pinch, making you whine out his name

Your hips began to move with a sense of urgency against his, your jaw falls open with every delicious slam to the spot inside you that makes you squeal and clench hard around him

With a gentle tug of your chin, Javier brings your kiss-swollen lips down to meet his. You can't help the keens that are forced out of you, he plays you like an instrument. Controlling every sound that falls from your lips

His hands tantalisingly make they're way back down, running his fingertips along your sides - making you shiver - before sliding down and meeting with your swollen bundle of nerves.

He rubs quick circles, making you moan into the kiss which he greedily drinks up

"Fuck- i-i'm so close-" you squeal when he roughly thrusts his hips up to meet yours. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you feel yourself getting so close to the edge of bliss

"You can do it, shit- come for me, amor" his voice is like silk in your ear, the final push you needed.

With a call of his name, you come undone around him, clenching impossibly tight. You could've sworn you saw pearly white gates for a second

Javier continues to punch his hips up into yours, helping you ride out you climax as he enters his; he fills you up like you deserve, white hot ropes painting your walls.

You fall slump against him, your sweat-slicked bodies stick together.

The rest of the night in filled with strong arms wrapped around you and gentle praises muttered in your ear

[esquilone]

❤︎ My Masterlist

──────────୨ৎ───────────

RDR2 one-shots links 🔗

Fanfics and oneshots - Character analysis - popularposts

❤︎ Arthur Morgan

-> Creamy Strawberry Cake | part 1 | part 2

❤︎ Javier Escuella

-> Neighbor

-> Pranks on Javier

❤︎ Micah Bell

-> Between sheets of fire

-> Micah Bell X autistic F! Reader

-> Just a simp

-> Daughter's jealousy

-> Bad Timing, Babe

❤︎ Charles Smith

-> Winter Violets | chapter 1 , chapter 2

❤︎ Shorts with images and text:

-> Van Derline Gang Boys

──────────୨ৎ─────────

❤︎ Character analysis

-> Dutch manipulation?

-> Why are you attracted to Micah and Javier

-> Why are you attracted to Dutch Van der Linde and Sean MacGuire

-> Why does anyone like Colm O'Driscoll?

-> What would be Micah bell's mbti?

-> Similarities Micah bell and Clegane

-> Micah Bell (Fetish theory)

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❤︎ Popular posts

-> Javier Escuella ❤️‍🔥

-> Drawings

-> Javier Escuella Puma

-> Javier drawings

-> Arthur Morgan

-> list of the my favorites stories by Javier x reader

-> Javier Escuella

-> Mary linton ❤️🥺🥺 ( ᵒ̴̶̷᷄꒳ᵒ̴̶̷᷅ )

-> Drawings Javier

-> Drawings Javier 🔥❤️‍🔥

(I only put the most "popular" posts on my profile, not all my real posts :/)

[amrass]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you @zanazirafanfic for the tag! 🖤

1) How many works do you have on ao3? 33, on my current account (I'd rather not disclose the ancient one)

2) What's your total ao3 word count? 689,907

3) What are your top five fics by kudos? Edit: I sorted by hits and not kudos lol! Redoing it now:

Dignity (Mouthwashing)

Triple Sun (Mouthwashing)

Kicking Up the Dust (RDR)

Girl in a Fishtank (Mouthwashing)

Blood Under the Snow (RDR)

4) What fandoms do you write for? Red Dead Redemption, mostly. Mouthwashing, too. One fic for Fear & Hunger and one for Arcane. 2-3 upcoming ones for Silent Hill 2. I enjoy multiple fandoms, and have preferred writing for just a few, but SH2 has me by the throat, it might be my next big thing.

5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yes. I love the exchange with readers. Most are just so nice to talk to, some might teach me stuff, and a few may become friends.

6) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Maybe Sycamore Trees, a Vandermorgan fanfic of mine commissioned by Cokobi, which ends with a young Arthur sensing that he'll die by Dutch's feet in the end of RDR2.

7) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Treat Me like a Doll, my gift for Doeiika due to all the amazing art she did for my The Devils Series. It ended with a Morbellicious kiss and no TB lol, plus most of the Van der Linde Gang thriving.

8) Do you get hate on fics? Rarely. Though when I was a kid I got a lot of shit for my English, and a particularly cruel comment made me delete a long Thramsay fic.

9) Do you write smut? Yes. Lots. 😎

10) Do you write crossovers? I have done a few fusion fics (RDR & GTA 4, RDR & The Great Silence) but no true crossovers. I'd love to, though. Especially with Mouthwashing and the Alien franchise.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen? No. 

12) Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, several times over the years, mostly into Chinese. I'm sending much love to fan translators, you guys are awesome!

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before? I have tried, but I work best alone. I like doing exchanges though, trying out each other's ideas, playing around in each other's AUs.

14) What's your all time favorite ship? Hmm, it fluctuates, but a ship that I found a lot of comfort in as a kid was Sladin (Slade/Robin, Slade Wilson/Dick Grayson or Deathstroke/Nightwing from DC Comics, Teen Titans, etc). I still remember parts of the fanfic The Peace Contract on fanfiction.net , I loved it so much when I was around 14. Also I recently actually found an incredibly well-written fic on Ao3 called The Nightwing Protocol, which rekindled my love.

15) What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Uhh well, I have lots of notes for a fic called The Hateful Nine, meant to be a 9-chapter final piece in to my Say That We're Sweethearts Again trilogy. Morbell, low honor Arthur/bounty hunter!Micah, essentially set in RDR1 or 1911 (Arthur had TB, and artificially collapsed a lung to survive). Arthur and Micah chase a delinquent Jack into Mexico, meeting gang leaders Bill & Kieran, brothel matrons Karen & Molly, and bounty hunters Javier & Sadie. Lots of twists and turns, and Pinkertons and Strauss are involved.

16) What are your writing strengths? Descriptions, visual metaphors, grossly sexy erotica.

17) What are your writing weaknesses? It’s funny, because ZanaZira tagged me in this, and we have opposite weaknesses haha. I struggle with lighter themes, softness, true love and kindness types of fics. Like, I get queasy reading and writing fluff to the point of gagging if I'm caught off guard. Not that I ever blame anyone for it, I just gotta be careful because I'm wired wrong after some bad experiences irl. It's kind of embarrassing lol. I'm getting better at it though, often by balancing it out with writing dark things beside it.

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I like it! 

19) First fandom you wrote for? Bleach lmao. Something something Grimjaw and Ulquiorra, I think? I hope I'm spelling their names right ... Posted it on Quizilla, RIP that site and the 1000s of "rawrrr xP" style quizzes and Draco Malfoy x Female OC fics, those were the days.

20) Favorite fic you've ever written? Slug. The idea was conceived at a similar time as Sink and The Devils, but I didn't have the skillset and guts for it until a year later. I looove mindbreak fanfics, and have tried to write a bunch over the years, but Slug is my best one so far. But I'm working on a SH2 fic called I Was a Prisoner In Your Skull, and if I manage to do the idea justice, it might be my new fave.

.

If you weren't tagged by Zana, feel free to tag yourself in this open space! My mind is a bit empty these days due to my ongoing health issues, but I think I managed to answer this alright.

[12timetraveler]

Hey! :)

My friend showed me your writings on AO3 and we both love them, her birthday is coming up and I know she‘d love to request something but doesn‘t have tumblr so I‘ll try. :)

Idk if you‘ve seen it but in RDR1 it is mentioned that Javier grew up with a “drunk father“ and my friend just got out of a really absu!ve relationship with an alcohol!c a few months back. She doesn‘t struggle with the mention of alcohol or anything just with people being noticeably drunk around her.

If you‘d be comfortable with it, could you write something about Javier calming f!reader down during maybe one of the gang parties? (:

I think it‘d mean the world to her since Javier is her favorite!

Thank you in advance and no worries if you don‘t feel comfortable writing anything like that!:)

Of Whiskey and Kisses

Summary:

At Sean's homecoming party reader struggles with her past as the gang becomes increasingly drunk.

Hey anon! I loved this idea and had a ton of fun writing it. I'm sorry it's so much shorter than most of my fics. I considered adding smut but I just felt like... It wasn't right for this fic. It just felt right at this length.

Happy birthday anons friend! I hope you enjoy this fic!!!

Full fic below as well as here on AO3

~~~~~~~~

Sean was back.

It was like a weight had been lifted off everyone's shoulders. Sean was back. One less life to mourn after the Blackwater job. One more gun on your side. It was like he was back from the dead. You’d all assumed the worst.

The gang was celebrating, and rightfully so. The moment Javier and Sean had trotted back into camp, Dutch had ordered the drinks to start flowing. Javier's guitar had been placed in his hands the moment his feet hit the ground as he dismounted, with the instructions to liven up the atmosphere. Everyone needed this, needed a reason to celebrate and relax. The sound of Javier's guitar filled the camp, all chores were cast aside, and even Mrs. Grimshaw was taking it easy, relaxing with the others.

Except, for you, it was doing the exact opposite of relaxing you.

Yes it was wonderful to see Sean back, wonderful to see people laughing and smiling again. To see Karen genuinely smile, and to see everyone drinking and being merry.

But true to Dutch's orders, the drinks flowed freely. One drink turned to two, turned to three, turned to six. The sun hadn't even set yet and you were already worried Sean would fall on his face.

Drinks didn't used to bother you. As a child you'd crack one open for your father after a long day's work. Every fall you'd help the little settlement you grew up in as they barreled up fermenting apples and crack open the previous year's ale.

You were no prohibitionist. A person having beer with dinner was fine by you. It was the excessive drinking that unsettled you. When men got so tipsy they could hardly see straight, and their minds would jump to all sorts of horrible thoughts. The way they only had one volume, shouting. As the drink clouded their minds, it seemed their limbs moved on their own. You'd suffered one-too-many black eyes at the hands of drunken men.

Or one drunken man to be exact.

When you'd hit marrying age, you'd been betrothed to a local man in your hometown. He was a few years older than you, though nothing too drastic. A young colleague of your father. He was kind to you, charming. You'd been genuinely happy at first.

Then you discovered how he was once the drink got ahold of him. He went out drinking with some of the others in town, celebrating something (you couldn't even remember what at this point). He'd stumbled home early the next morning, before sunrise. He'd not been so kind then.

At first you'd tried to brush it off. He didn't get drunk that often. You could put up with the screaming in your ear and the wobbly slaps on occasion. The rest of the time he was... Sweet. And only getting drunk maybe once a month? You could put up with that.

Until it wasn't just once a month. Slowly he spiraled, falling deeper and deeper into the bottle. Eventually, he was drunk every night, hardly ever home. But when he was, he was a vicious son of a bitch. His only volume was screaming, and sometimes it was like his arms slapped you of their own accord, his brain not even keeping up with what they were doing.

You tried to stick it out. It's what a good wife did, right? Stick by her husband through thick and thin? But finally you'd reached your breaking point. You saddled up the old mule and never looked back. You'd joined the Van Der Linde gang some time later.

Your new family were no saints, but they never laid a hand on you, and you were free with them. Most nights a few beers would be had. Not enough to get them all proper wasted. Not enough to make you jumpy and uncomfortable the way excessive drinking did.

No, men having a couple beers didn't bother you, it was when they got loud and wobbly. When they lost control of their limbs and slurred their speech. When all you could smell was the sour smell of fermentation, that's when your heart would start racing. You'd duck your head and make a quick escape to another side of camp. People could be so different when they were drunk. You hated trying to figure out who they were after a number of whiskeys.

You avoided Bill most days. He was loud and violent even without the drink. Something about him often set you off. He made you nervous sober. Drunk, he was your worst nightmare. Uncle was a nice drunk, a little more tolerable, though you still didn't seek out his company.

Most nights you didn't have much of a problem. One drink didn't impact these seasoned drinkers too much, aside from making them relax. But tonight just about everyone was stumbling about camp, deep into the crates of whiskey bottles. Bill had already shouted in your ear when you tried to defend poor Kieran from him. You’d quickly retreated to the middle of camp where Dutch and Molly and Arthur and Mary Beth were dancing. Bill, thankfully, didn’t follow.

As the night went on, it only got worse. Sean was following Karen around like a drunk puppy, begging for her attention, despite her drunken slap. John and Bill were sitting at the table with Arthur, cackling at some joke you couldn't understand through their slurring. Their voices were so loud, it was all you could hear. Even wise old Hosea had clearly had his fair share to drink, stumbling across camp.

Oh god and he was stumbling right toward you. You forced a smile as he skidded to a halt in front of you, narrowly avoiding crashing into you. You grabbed his arm to steady him.

"Y-you enjoying the party?" He asked.

"Mmmhmm," you replied tensely, guiding Hosea to sit in the chair near his tent. He groaned as he sat down.

"Yer a s-sweet girl," Hosea sighed, patting your hand. He squinted up at you and even in his drunken state he seemed to see the discomfort clear on your face. He let your hand go and slouched back in his chair. "Go'n have fun, dear girl, and don't mind this old f-fool,"

You quickly made your escape, striding quickly across camp, past Arthur’s tent out to the trees on the south side of camp. The sounds of the party chased you, no matter how far you stepped away. Though you had to stop yourself from going too far, knowing that alone you were in more danger than back at camp.

Hugging your arms tight to your chest, you leaned forward against a tree, bracing yourself as you took deep breaths. That familiar fear settled in your stomach as the boisterous sounds of the party continued to hit your ears.

John's loud, screeching laugh.

Uncle, Karen and Sean singing loudly around the fire.

Arthur's slurred singing as he stumbled around camp.

Reverend's chanting as he followed Arthur.

It was too much. Too much. Too much.

"<I>Chica,</I> you alright?" A familiar raspy baritone murmured. You stepped back from the tree and whirled around. Javier was approaching slowly, hands raised like he was approaching a spooked horse.

You studied him. His surefooted steps, his clear, alert eyes, his steady hands. He wasn't drunk. Or at least not as drunk as the others. He’d likely had at least one drink. But he was still Javier.

"I'm fine," you said quickly. "Just needed some fresh air."

"We're outside," Javier pointed out. "It's all fresh air. Unless you mean free from the stink. Because those men could definitely use a bath," he teased, slipping his hands into his pockets and swaggering toward you. You giggled.

"A few of them need to be tossed in the river," your voice was still quiet, still nervous, but you were relaxing slightly. You always found yourself relaxing around Javier. He leaned against the tree next to you, smiling that dashing smile of his.

"They do." He agreed. "So was that it? One of their stenches hit you and you had to dart out of camp like the devil was on your tail?"

"Not... Exactly," you murmured. Javier hummed but didn't say another word. Just stood there, waiting for you to speak, to say whatever you needed to.

"My," you sucked in a big breath. "My husband was a drunkard. A mean one at that," you said. Javier turned his gaze on you, watching you with a tender worry you'd never seen in his eyes before. "When the drink got him, he was loud and quick to lash out. Quick to swing, no matter who or what he might hit," you breathed out through your teeth. "Guess I'm... I'm afraid of drunk men. Really drunk men." You sighed. “I try to hide it. Most nights I can. But when they get like this…”

Javier was silent, taking in your words. He pulled out a cigarette and a matchbook, striking a match on his boot and lighting the cigarette. He offered you a drag before taking one of his own, breathing in the smoke then breathing it out slowly.

"My dad was like that," he said quietly. "He wasn't a bad man. At least I never really thought so. But he'd drink every minute he wasn't working. Usually he was just loud and clumsy but sometimes he'd slap my mother."

"Oh Javier," you gasped, "I'm so sorry,"

Javier shrugged, taking another drag on his cigarette before continuing.

"Sometimes I can just brush it off, act like it's nothing. It can be hard to avoid drunken men in this life. Impossible." He said. "But every now and then one of them will say or do something that just... Suddenly I'm that little boy hiding behind his mother's skirts while his father screams at her until he's red in the face."

On instinct you scooter closer to him, wrapping both your arms around his bicep and resting your arms on his shoulder. Javier tilted his head to rest on the top of yours, bringing his free hand up to rest over yours.

"Whiskey can bring out the very worst in people," he remarked. "It's okay to be hesitant around grumpy old drunkards like that lot. That's looking out for yourself. Especially with what you've been through." His voice was soft, soothing. He kept the volume low, for your ears only, should anyone be walking nearby.

"I just feel bad," you sighed. "They're my friends. I know they wouldn't hurt me. Except... Maybe Bill or Micah." You shuddered slightly. "I shouldn't be so scared."

"You said he was your husband, yes? He's the man you should have felt safest with. Yet still he hurt you. You-"

A loud shout from camp made you jump. Bill was bellowing about something. His loud, slurred speech had you particularly on edge. Your mouth felt dry as you listened to his voice. So, so loud. Just like <em>his</em> used to be.

"Let's go for a little walk," Javier suggested, prying his arm free from yours before placing one hand in the crook of his elbow. You allowed him to lead you out of camp, nodding to Charles on guard duty as you passed.

Javier guided you away from the camp, letting the drunken sounds of the party slowly fade away with each step. You stepped out of the trees and crossed the train tracks, out onto the Heartlands.

“As I was saying, you have nothing to be ashamed of. When you endure something like that for so long it… it starts to mess with your mind. You’re so used to being on edge that even if you know you’re safe, you can’t stop. You’re allowed to be scared, and you’re allowed to step away when it gets too much.”

You said nothing, letting Javier’s words sink in, letting the soft sound of his voice ring in your ears and drown out the bellows from the past that were currently echoing there.

You glanced over at Javier, aware of how open and exposed you were out here. His gun was strapped loyally at his hip as always. You felt yourself start to relax, knowing you were safe with Javier.

The sounds of the Heartlands worked to calm you down. The chirping of a skunk, the chatter of a raccoon, the hoot of an owl, then gentle whooshing of the wind. It created a symphony unique to the edge of the plains, where forest met sagebrush.

You breathed in deeply, and you felt your shoulders drop as you began to relax, away from the drunken sounds behind you.

"You're feeling better," Javier remarked. You turned to find him watching you, taking in your relaxed posture.

"Yeah," you sighed. "I am. Thank you."

“Of course, <i>chica</i>,” Javier murmured. The two of you slowed your pace until you stopped, turning to face each other. Javier lifted a hand to your face and gently brushed some hair back behind your ear. “It pains me to see you upset. I’d do anything to see your smile.” His voice was slow, letting his warm baritone resonate around you, wrap over you like a blanket.

You gave him a small smile, which he returned in kind. You expected he’d pull away and continue walking, but the two of you seemed frozen in place, eyes locked on each other, held there by some invisible force.

You felt yourself leaning toward him on instinct, rising up on your toes just enough to bring you closer to his height. The hand that had brushed your hair aside had never left your cheek. Now he gently guided your head to meet his. His touch was loose. You could pull away at any moment. But why would you want to?

Javier had caught your eye the moment you’d joined the gang. He’d been fairly new to the group himself, and he barely had any English. But the two of you had always found a calm peacefulness with each other. Back when Javier had been a paranoid, traumatized mess after whatever had happened when he left Mexico and came to the US, and you’d been constantly looking over your shoulder, worried your past would find you and drag you back. You’d found a kindred spirit in the other terrified, jumpy new recruit.

You’d been fast friends ever since. But beyond that, you’d been sweet on him for quite some time. It wasn’t an immediate attraction. You’d been very guarded and closed off to affection after everything. But slowly as you healed yourself, you felt butterflies begin to make their home in your heart, feelings you’d never felt for your husband growing for the kind outlaw with the guitar.

You certainly hadn’t intended for the evening to go this way. A kiss from Javier had been the last thing on your mind. But as your lips pressed to his, you couldn’t say you were at all upset by the turn of events. And honestly you were probably the only one who was surprised by Javier’s kiss, the rest of the gang having bets placed on how long it would take the two of you to find your way into each other's arms. If you were in camp, there would have been many angry exchanges of money as some lost and others gained.

Javier’s lips were soft, a little chapped, but not too rough. His thin mustache brushed against your lip, soft and well kept, a little prickly but not unpleasant. He tasted like tobacco and chocolate mixed with something distinctly him. His natural musk was clean, unmarred by dirt or other odors. He kept himself very clean.

All too soon, Javier pulled away with a frown, shaking his head and avoiding your gaze. You watched him questioningly, trying to catch his eye, but he refused to look at you.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Not tonight, when you’re so vulnerable and--” his apology was cut short when you grabbed his poncho and yanked him closer, slamming your lips against his and holding him against you.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you to do that,?” You whispered, lips barely leaving his.

Javier’s strong arms wrapped around you, lifting you off your feet, lips never leaving yours. You clutched his back to keep your balance, holding on for dear life as he kissed your breathless. You weren’t sure how long he held you like that, lips locked on yours.

Even when he set you back down on your feet, he kept his arms around you, holding you against him even as he broke the kiss to smile down at you. You leaned up and kissed his cheek, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“So, I’ve been a fool thinking that my feelings were one-sided, hm?” He asked, shoulders shaking slightly with laughter.

“I thought the same. Guess we’re both fools.” You giggled. Javier smiled and slid his hand down your arm, taking your hand in his. The two of you walked a bit further.

“Let’s stay out here for the night, until those <i>cabrones</i> sober up, or at the very least go to bed,” he suggested. When you nodded, he guided you over to a soft patch of buffalo grass to sit.

He unwrapped his poncho from around his shoulders and wrapped the two of you in the warm fabric. You nestled close into his side as he lay the two of you back on the grass so you could look up at the stars. It was quiet for a time, and you almost thought Javier may have drifted off to sleep.

“As long as I’m around, I’ll never let another drunken bastard bother you,” Javier vowed, pressing a kiss to your head.

The two of you spent the night out there on the plains, stargazing and talking and kissing. When the sun began to rise, you climbed up one of the hills to watch it better, staying out of camp as long as you could, feeling completely safe curled up against him.

[tenessee-walker]

Helloooo

I heard you were writing orders and I'd like to ask you for a head canon from Arthur taking care of the reader (who got sick with tuberculosis)

I ask for something like this because it breaks my heart to see Arthur resign himself to death 😔

I HATE THAT ARTHUR DIES I HATE THAT ARTHUR DIES I HATE THAT ARTHUR DIES I HATE THAT ARTHUR DIES I HATE THAT ARTHUR DIES I HATE THAT ARTHUR DIES I HATE THAT ARTHUR DIES I HATE THAT ARTHUR DIES I HATE THAT ARTHUR DIES

sweet!arthur who refuses to believe this sickness will take you. Not you. Not his girl. He’s seen too much death, lost too many people—but you? No. He won’t let it happen. He’ll sit beside your bed for hours, calloused fingers brushing over your knuckles, voice warm and steady as he murmurs, “You just gotta rest, sweetheart. You’re gonna be alright.”

sweet!arthur who kisses your forehead whenever you start coughing, his lips lingering like he’s trying to steal the fever away from you. He smooths your hair back, tucks the blankets tighter around your body, and whispers, “Ain’t nothin’ in this world could take you from me, y’hear? Not while I’m around.”

sweet!arthur who rides miles just to find anything that might help. He’ll go into every town, ask every doctor, barter with every shopkeep. And when he finds something—tonic, medicine, even just a fresh fruit—he grins all proud like, kneeling beside your bed with that boyish twinkle in his eyes. “Brought ya somethin’, darlin’. Reckon it’ll make ya feel a little better.”

sweet!arthur who hums you to sleep. Soft and low, deep in his chest—old songs his mama used to sing. He’ll do it without even thinking, fingers tracing lazy circles against your back as he murmurs, “Ain’t no rush, sweetheart. Just close them pretty eyes. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

sweet!arthur who won’t let you feel ashamed of how weak you’ve gotten. You hate that you can barely lift a spoon, that you need his help just to sit up—but Arthur? He just smiles, tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and teases, “Y’know, if ya wanted me to wait on ya hand and foot, ya coulda just asked.”

sweet!arthur who writes little notes for you to read when he has to step away. Clumsy, heartfelt scribbles on scraps of paper: “Be back soon, darlin’. Don’t go gettin’ up without me.” Or “I love you more than anything. That’s gotta count for somethin’, right?”

sweet!arthur who tells you stories when you’re too tired to talk. His voice is soft, a little rough at the edges, but full of warmth. He’ll talk about the future—your future. A little house somewhere quiet, far from all this madness. Just the two of you, sittin’ on a porch, watchin’ the sun go down. “Sounds real nice, don’t it? We’ll get there, sweetheart. Just gotta hold on a little longer.”

sweet!arthur who presses a hand over yours whenever you’re feeling down, voice warm and sure as he says, “Ain’t nothin’ gonna take you from me. I love you too damn much.” And when you finally drift off to sleep, he just watches you—thumb brushing against your cheek, eyes soft with something so deep, so full of love it makes his chest ache.

[tenessee-walker]

hiii!! i absolutely love your writing🥺

could i request some hcs about arthur making a harmless joke/prank towards the reader and them taking it personally and crying/feeling hurt? kinda angsty sorry😔

awwww THANK YOUUUUUU

I have to admit 😞 I’ve done that before 🙈 like I’ve cried over a joke but hey 👋 I cry a lot so 🤷‍♀️

joker!arthur who’s always got a sarcastic quip or joke to crack, and sometimes—sometimes—he doesn’t know when to stop. he thinks it’s funny, thinks it’s harmless, but every so often, he crosses a line without even realizing it.

joker!arthur who’s sitting around the campfire, trying to get everyone laughing after a rough day of work, but when he sees you leaning against a tree, looking tired, he can’t help himself. “hey, y/n,” he says with that usual grin, “you know, if you worked half as hard as you complained, you might actually get something done around here. must be exhausting being so good at whining.”

joker!arthur who, in that moment, doesn’t see how the light in your eyes flickers, how your smile fades. he thinks it’s a joke—a harmless tease—but he doesn’t realize how cruel it sounds. “what’s the matter? did i strike a nerve? it’s just a joke, y/n,” he says, shrugging, already moving on to the next joke, because that’s what he does.

joker!arthur who doesn’t see the way your expression crumbles. “you think i’m just complaining, arthur?” you say quietly, too quietly, and he pauses. he notices then, for the first time, that you’re not smiling. your face is pale, your eyes distant.

joker!arthur who immediately realizes he’s fucked up. but instead of stopping, he just digs deeper, thinking maybe if he jokes some more, it’ll ease the tension. “oh come on, y/n, i was just messin’ with ya. lighten up, huh?” but his words sound more and more hollow as he sees the pain on your face.

joker!arthur who can’t believe what he’s just done when you stand up abruptly, pushing your chair back, and walk awaywithout a word. and then it hits him—oh shit, that was bad. his grin fades, replaced by that pit in his stomach he tries so hard to ignore.

joker!arthur who calls after you, but you don’t stop, and he’s frozen in place, watching you walk away. “hey—y/n, wait, come on. i didn’t mean it like that—” but you don’t turn around. his voice cracks. “y/n!”

joker!arthur who starts to panic. “what the hell did i just say?” he starts pacing around camp, talking to himself, “it was just a joke. it was supposed to be funny… it’s just a damn joke, morgan!” he knows the words are a stupid excuse, but in his head, it’s all he can come up with.

joker!arthur who spends the rest of the night with nervous energy, watching the fire crackle, wishing you would come back, wishing you would just laugh at him again like you used to. but there’s nothing. just the echo of his own mistake bouncing around in his head.

joker!arthur who finally can’t take it anymore and goes looking for you, his heart in his throat, finding you sitting by the edge of the river, your back to him. the silence between you two is deafening.

joker!arthur who tries to apologize but his words are clumsy, unsure, like he can’t even get his thoughts straight. “look… i—I didn’t mean it, y/n. i was just… i was just trying to make people laugh. hell, i didn’t mean to hurt you.” he’s practically stumbling over his words, trying to make you understand, “please… just, please don’t be mad at me. i didn’t—”

joker!arthur who finally sees you cry. the tears slipping down your face, and that’s when it hits him how far he went. how he just obliterated the one person he cared about without even realizing it. his stomach churns. “please, y/n… don’t cry. i never meant to make you cry. i swear to you, i—”

joker!arthur who, for the first time, doesn’t have a joke. doesn’t have anything funny to say to make it better. just stands there, staring at you, hating himself for being the one to cause your tears. he wants to fix it, but he doesn’t know how.

joker!arthur who desperately wants to make things right, but in the pit of his stomach, he feels like he’s lost you—lost the one person who could love him, and now all he’s left with is his stupid fucking joke.

joker!arthur who’s never felt this way before, unsure of how to even begin making things right. he can’t stand seeing you cry, but more than that, he can’t stand knowing he caused it. and the guilt? it’s eating him alive. he can’t just let it go. he can’t pretend everything’s fine. not this time.

joker!arthur who’s now so careful with his words, it’s like he’s walking on thin ice. he approaches you slowly, almost timid, like he doesn’t want to scare you away even more. his usual cocky swagger is gone, replaced by an almost fragile softness. he kneels in front of you, his knees sinking into the dirt, eyes never leaving your face. “y/n, i… i’m so sorry. please, just…” he stops, unable to find the words, and his voice cracks.

joker!arthur who reaches for your hand, but his touch is so gentle, like you might break if he holds on too tight. “i didn’t mean it. i didn’t mean to hurt you. please, y/n… i need you to believe me.” his voice is softer now, almost vulnerable, like a man who’s been stripped of all his bravado.

joker!arthur who never looks away, his eyes filled with nothing but regret. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me sometimes, but i swear to you, i never meant for my words to… hurt you like that.” he’s so careful with every syllable, as though your feelings are fragile glass he doesn’t want to shatter.

joker!arthur who, after a long silence, gently brushes a tear off your cheek with his thumb, his touch so light it’s almost like he’s afraid of you pulling away. “please… don’t cry. i don’t know what i’d do if i lost you.” he whispers it like it’s the most sacred truth, his voice tight with emotion.

joker!arthur who, even when you don’t respond immediately, doesn’t give up. he stays right there, his face inches from yours, and he makes sure every word he says is filled with the depth of his sincerity. “i know i messed up, i know… but please, y/n, don’t shut me out. i can’t take it. i’m nothing without you.”

joker!arthur who’s just so tender with you now, holding you gently, letting you cry against his chest. his arms wrap around you, and he doesn’t care if it’s messy or if his words come out all wrong. he just needs you to know that he’ll never hurt you again. “you’re everything to me, y/n. don’t you forget that.”

joker!arthur who stays by your side, holding you like you’re the most fragile thing in the world, offering you the softest apologies in the hopes that eventually, you’ll see just how much he loves you. “i don’t deserve your forgiveness… but i swear, i’ll spend every damn day making it up to you.”

[harpsinfinity]

Waiter waiter !!

One million beers please.

(also new Javier fic coming soon)

[esquilone]

Just read the first part of Winter Violets…it’s so good dawg I love it sm!!! I love how u write Charles, even having something *for* Charles is rare and always appreciated!!!

For future chapter ideas it would be banger if you incorporated something about the reader having some anxiety’s in town or in a new town and Charles understanding/ helping (obv can be vice versa, like Charles being wary of being in town which would be equally if not more awesome)

That or something like he helps her with chores/does work for money or housing, they do horse stuff together, do fun picnic outings on day off, just simple fluff fillers

I hope these ideas help or inspire even if they’re indulgent, I love your work and I love this fic sm!!! I also don’t want to pressure u into using these, if you don’t use these I’m def still reading and supporting ❤️

Hello, Anon!

Thank you so much for your suggestion! I’ve actually been thinking about something like that, but I already have some drafts planned for the second chapter. I don’t want to rush a potential future of them living together. I want them to have a good relationship, but I also want to avoid making it happen too quickly and losing depth. So, I’m carefully planning and looking for interesting reasons to make things feel more natural—hopefully, something that readers will enjoy.

Another challenge for me will be bringing them closer while keeping Charles’ essence intact, but I’ll do my best to deliver a great result!

I was really happy to receive new asks! Thank you for the ideas! 💡 (o^-���)b

[tenessee-walker]

ran out of requests (all of them done and scheduled)

[millieisawriter]

The first rdr1 javier fic that had smut has me wishing the second one will too😭 it's so good and I love the angst

there's nothing about smut in this request, so i won't add it there, but don't worry i will cook up another smut sometime! <3

[neon-junkie]

Fic titles:

Bloody Rivers and Bloody Hands

Footprints in the Sun

Leave me for the Stars

Pelts and eyes like a God

These Hands of a Killer

Butcher my Heart

Bloody Rivers and Bloody Hands - Micah breakup fic (with Arthur or reader)

Footprints in the Sun - Charles/reader fluffy fic - just generic fluff yanno, maybe they go on a date by the beach?

Leave me for the Stars - Javier/reader angst fic - RDR1 Javier finally dies and the reader has to deal with his death

Pelts and eyes like a God - Arthur/reader smut fic - generic but romantic smut with the big cowboy

These Hands of a Killer - Arthur, Micah, or Dutch angst fic - maybe the reader realises the type of man they are? and decide they want to break up?

Butcher my Heart - Dutch/reader breakup fic

[harpsinfinity]

Reblog if you can !!

Javier escuella x female!reader

Smut !!

It had been such a long, hard day for Javier. Failing a mission, being bucked off his horse, and thrown in the mud. Literally.

He'd whisked both you and him into strawberry, in need of a hot bath and his beloved partner by his side.

You ended up in a room in a random hotel, the first you could find. It was a pleasant change from uncomfortable cots and scratchy pillows.

The sheets provided were soft as you sank yourself down on him. Javier was exhausted from the day, but who was he to deny you ?

He had you stuffed full of his cock, blunt nails digging into your hips as he lazily bounced you on him. A sinful combination of both of your whines and groans filled the room, thin walls doing nothing to conceal your acts.

But neither of you cared, whoever heard would never know that it was you and him

He looked so beautiful; messy hair splayed out on the pillow. His eyes half-lidded and drunk on pleasure as you rode him

"So good for me, mija" The large warm hands splayed across your waist slide upwards towards your chest, they brush over your spit-slicked, puffy nipples. His hands flick and pinch, making you whine out his name

Your hips began to move with a sense of urgency against his, your jaw falls open with every delicious slam to the spot inside you that makes you squeal and clench hard around him

With a gentle tug of your chin, Javier brings your kiss-swollen lips down to meet his. You can't help the keens that are forced out of you, he plays you like an instrument. Controlling every sound that falls from your lips

His hands tantalisingly make they're way back down, running his fingertips along your sides - making you shiver - before sliding down and meeting with your swollen bundle of nerves.

He rubs quick circles, making you moan into the kiss which he greedily drinks up

"Fuck- i-i'm so close-" you squeal when he roughly thrusts his hips up to meet yours. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you feel yourself getting so close to the edge of bliss

"You can do it, shit- come for me, amor" his voice is like silk in your ear, the final push you needed.

With a call of his name, you come undone around him, clenching impossibly tight. You could've sworn you saw pearly white gates for a second

Javier continues to punch his hips up into yours, helping you ride out you climax as he enters his; he fills you up like you deserve, white hot ropes painting your walls.

You fall slump against him, your sweat-slicked bodies stick together.

The rest of the night in filled with strong arms wrapped around you and gentle praises muttered in your ear