#retired!javier peña

[wildemaven]

Came across this on Pinterest and right away thought of your Night School Teacher Javier - even has the opened shirt collar (yes please)

my place or yours | javier peña

pairing - night school teacher!javier peña x night school teacher f!reader word count - 1276 content warning - 18+ blog; just a lot of fluff, reader is mentioned wearing a dress and a necklace- but zero description features, no y/n, established relationship with in this piece notes - K, as soon as I saw this photo, my mind started buzzing! I’ve been on the fence still about writing these two but I wanted to get this out since it came to me so quickly. Thank you for sharing this!!! masterlist

A heat advisory had been issued in Laredo and the surrounding areas for the last week. Your classroom provided little relief for you and your students earlier in the evening as the central air conditioning for the school had gone out days into the heatwave.

It was a combined effort to alleviate some of the warm stagnant air within the old building. You and Javier propped your classroom doors open, while a few open windows supplied a draft across the hall as the evening sun set and the temperature began to drop to a more bearable degree. 

Day 3 of trying to keep your room cool while teaching had you throwing in the white flag. Your students were all too excited at your suggestion to push their test back to next week and dismiss them, welcoming the weekend a whole hour earlier than usual. You wished them a good evening as they eagerly packed away their belongings, bidding their goodbyes as they left your classroom. 

As you were finishing gathering your books and organized stacks of ungraded papers, movement in your peripheral caught your attention. 

Javier moved about the front of his own classroom, his hands alternating between shuffling through the papers he was holding and pointing out key points he had written out on the blackboard. It was a normal sight for you at this point since he moved into the classroom across the hall. These past few days have opened up ample opportunities for you to catch a glimpse of him lost in teaching without a barrier of doors in the way. 

In this moment, Javier was enough of a distraction to halt any progress you had made in cleaning up for the weekend. His sports coat had been discarded and draped over the back of the wooden chair that was left in an off-kilter manner behind his desk. The dark slacks he wore were a snug fit, accentuating his narrow waist. The appearance of his dress shirt had at some point turned from studious refinement to a very relaxed look— the latter being your favorite if you were being honest. The sleeves rolled and secured higher than their normal appearance, his forearms flexed freely without the restraint of the shirt fabric. His deco scallop patterned necktie had been removed and was laying over his sports coat, allowing for the top unbuttoned portion of his shirt to fall open freely. 

You had fallen into a trance, with your eyes glued to the way his neck tensed and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he spoke, you hadn’t realized that you were now standing in the doorway of your classroom. 

Javier’s intuition must have sensed something, his steps faltering a bit as his eyes found yours staring at him from across the hall. The way the corner of his eyes crinkled up slightly and his perfect lopsided grin grew just enough to make his dimple a prominent part of his surprised expression. 

There was a beat of silence as Javier stood there taking you in, almost forgetting his students that sat patiently, filling the rows of rigid desks. His brows narrowed as his brain slowly came to the realization that your class was empty and you were no longer teaching. 

He shot you a wink that caused a sudden fluttering sensation to travel from your lower belly and settle in your chest, before giving his attention back to his class and his form disappearing as he stepped further into the room. 

You shoulder into the doorway, your fingers absentmindedly sliding along the dainty gold chain that hangs from your neck as commotion spills from Javier’s room. 

Student after student exit with books wearing a mixture of gleeful laughter and impassive expressions as they fill the hallway walking in the direction of the nearest parking lot. 

Your attention is directed back to the classroom across from you as the flurry of activity dies down.  

“Hi.” Javier says standing with one hand tucked in his front pocket while the other holds a rather large book containing pages and pages of material he has to cover before the end of the semester. 

“Hi.” You smile at him, as your thumb runs back and forth along the seam of your lips. 

“Not like you to let them out—“ Javier begins to say as he removes his hand from his pocket to inspect the time on his watch, eyebrows raised in surprise. “A whole hour early.” His eyes locked back with yours. 

“Oh stop—  It’s too hot to think. They were groaning and getting restless. Besides, you would have done the same thing if you thought of it first.” 

You watch as he makes his way to you, causing you to turn so your back is now leaning against the door frame when he joins you. 

“I let them go, didn’t I?” He smirks. 

“You did. Any longer and they would have been too distracted to hear anything else you were saying.” Your teeth catch your bottom lip in hopes to contain the smirk that’s slowly forming. 

“How so?” His head ticks to the side, hoping you plan to offer him some sort of explanation. 

Before you say anything, your pointer finger finds its way to the opening of his shirt. Gliding up and down the v-shape then settling at the bottom where the first fastened button rests in the middle of his sternum. 

“You’re very distracting like this. Makes sense why there’s always a mad dash of students fighting over those front row seats every night.” 

“Sounds like you know from experience?” His voice is hushed as he steps closer to you, his free hand resting on your hip, the fabric of your dress bunching under his grip. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Your finger hooks into his shirt and you pull him even closer to close the gap between your bodies. “We’re alone.” You whisper against his lips, your hand slipping under his shirt, feeling his dewy skin under your fingertips as you wait for him to make the final move. 

With both classrooms now empty, you’re the only two in this wing of the building. 

It had been a few months since things had become more serious for you and Javier. Still wanting to take things slow, you both kept things under wraps for the time being while on school grounds. But that didn’t mean you didn’t take advantage of moments like this when it was just the two of you. 

Javier’s lips meld with yours, atoning for lost time while silently promising to make up for it the rest of the weekend. There’s a loud clatter as his book falls on the ground. His hands find their way to your face, gently tracing the contours as if trying to reacquaint himself with every feature he loves about you. 

“My place or yours?” You break the kiss before it advances into something more, your breath mingling with his. 

“My place has air conditioning.” 

“But my bed is comfier.” You hinted as you traced lightly over his collarbone. “Cold showers never killed anyone.” 

“Not yet at least.” He bends down to pick up his book, then stands to his full height and kisses you briefly one more time. “Your place tonight, then my place tomorrow after breakfast— before it gets too hot.” 

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” 

“Lock up and get your stuff, I’ll meet you back here in 5.” He pats your ass playfully as he begins the short walk back to his classroom. 

“You’re trouble, Peña.” You quip over your shoulder to him. 

“Last I checked, you loved it.” He says with a wink and smiles at you. 

“I really do.”

[pinklemonadesociety]

Welcome back Javier Pena.

[soaringcloud]

javier peña before he joined the DEA 🫶

[gothcsz]

December | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 6 of Unscripted Desire | ~16k wc | Series Masterlist | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Your winter getaway with Javier.

Tags: alternating pov, javi is having an identity crisis, established relationship, fluff (i cringe), romance (still cringing), smut (no longer cringing), jealous!javi, oh no the triple frontier boys are here, oral (m&f), p in v sex, once again: javi is clipped, filming a sex tape, dirty porn talk, hot tub sex, pussy/dick pronouns, javi puts you in a headlock (i've been influenced by all the headlock fics also stream headlock by imogen heap), breath control play, squirting, clit stimulation, no use of y/n, reader has some vague physical descriptions (mid-sized, curvy, hair that can have fingers run through), any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay thx.

A/N: happy holidays ❄️ i wanted to do something fun for the season and to thank everyone who has supported this story so far! i love you guys 🩵 as always, thank you @persephone-girl for reading over bits of this and being my emotional support hehe

You’ve barely shut the door when a loud, frustrated “Fuck!” echoes through your apartment, followed by the unmistakable clatter of things hitting the floor. Your brows knit together as you toss your keys into the bowl by the entrance and hang your bag on the back of a kitchen chair.

The sight waiting for you confirms your suspicions: your very hot, very frustrated boyfriend is pacing in the middle of the room, his broad shoulders tight with tension. Scattered across the coffee table and floor around him are puzzle pieces.

“Javi,” you say, crossing your arms as you take in the scene. “What’s going on?”

He stops mid-stride, scowling down at the pieces as though they’ve personally insulted him. “The fucking puzzle is broken,” he gestures angrily toward the mess.

You blink at him, biting back a grin. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point. You have to put it back together.” Your voice lilts with playful teasing, hoping to lighten the mood he is in.

He shoots you a look that’s equal parts annoyed and sheepish. Stepping forward, you place yourself squarely in his path, wrapping your arms around his waist.

He’s got no choice but to halt his pacing, and after a moment, his arms drop heavily around you. You can feel the frustration draining out of him like air from a balloon.

“Estoy volviéndome loco, nena.” His chest rises and falls in a heavy exhale, hands instinctively finding their place on your lower back. 

You look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. It’s hard not to get lost in his good looks—those dark, soulful eyes, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his hair falls perfectly so, no matter how much he’s been raking his fingers through it.

He could be pissed at the entire world, and he’d still be the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

He told you he was done with porn, and he meant it. It didn’t happen all at once, he stuck to solo work until he lost the passion for it entirely before finally cutting ties with his agent and declaring himself “retired.”

The checks will keep coming, sure, but they aren’t a permanent safety net. That left your boyfriend at a crossroads, staring down the daunting question of what came next.

“Fuck, I don’t know. What else am I even good at?”

Now, Pornstar Javier Peña is just… Javi. Without the glitz and veneer of his former life, he’s a bit of a mess, honestly. A hot mess, sure, but a mess all the same.

He spends most of his days drifting between your apartment and his place, and more often than not, it’s your bed he ends up in. Sometimes he’s sprawled on the couch, lazily surfing through the channels, other times he’s fast asleep, limbs tangled in your sheets, his brow furrowed even while dreaming.

It’s like he’s waiting for the pieces of himself to fall into place but has no idea where to start.

You have, actually, tried helping him find new interests, with mixed results.

Cooking classes? A bust—too many rules and timers for someone who likes to work off instinct. Hiking? Not his thing, and you’d barely made it halfway up the trail before he declared he needed a cold beer and a hot shower. Pottery seemed promising for about five minutes before a poorly shaped bowl sent him muttering a string of Spanish curses under his breath and he quit then and there.

It’s not that he’s… bad at these things, necessarily, but none of them feel true to him.

“Baby, you’re not going to figure out who you are overnight. It takes time,” you murmur, tilting your head up to press a kiss to the tip of his chin, the roughness of his stubble brushing against your lips.

He grumbles. “I’m impatient.”

“I noticed,” you tease, a giggle slipping out as your hands sneak under his shirt. Your fingers trail along his ribs, stroking the warm, solid muscle there. The quiet hum of satisfaction you let out isn’t for his benefit—it’s for you. He feels so damn good under your touch, like he was built to be admired.

Javier shifts slightly, straightening up as if your hands have hit a reset button on his mood. “How was your day?”

You started a new job with the camera crew on an actual film set, and it’s a sweet gig, the opportunity kind of landing in your lap out of nowhere. Someone you knew from college reached out, and the pay was too good to pass up, even if the work itself wasn’t all that different from what you’ve done on porn sets.

Less dicks and tits, but the same technical work. When you’re not on set, you’re still clinging to the comfort of your shifts at Lucky’s. 

You shrug lightly, nuzzling into him. “Same as always. Nothing too exciting. But I’m glad I don’t have to work the bar tonight. Maybe I can help you with that puzzle.” You tease.

“Or…” His tone shifts so quickly it’s almost dizzying—warm and doting one second, low and sinful the next. His hands drift south, firmly gripping your ass and giving it a harsh squeeze

“Or?” you repeat, your arousal flaring.

That’s all the invitation he needs.

In no time, you find yourself naked and sprawled against the coffee table, the surface pressing into your back while scattered puzzle pieces stick to your damp skin. But none of that matters—not when Javier is between your legs, his broad shoulders holding you open like a prize only he gets to claim.

His mouth is buried in your pussy, wet and eager tongue moving with a purpose that has your thighs trembling. He laps at you expertly, each flick and thrust inside your cunt dragging whimpers out of you, your body singing under his touch.

Javier groans, the sound vibrating against your pussy. “You taste so,” kiss, “fucking,” lick, “good,” suck. Your back arches and you sob his name loudly, eyes fluttering close at how good he is at eating you out.

No matter how many times he does it, he somehow manages to surpass the time before. Men like Javier are a rare thing, and you’re annoyed at yourself for not succumbing to him earlier. You just had to prove a fucking point.

He pulls back just enough to lick and bite at your inner thigh, trying to control himself from devouring you whole, before diving back in. His hands keep you pinned to the edge of the table as you shake uncontrollably in his grasp.

Every obscene noise he makes is matched by the wet, filthy sounds of his tongue working you over and you feel the pressure winding tighter and tighter. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling as you gasp his name, and the pleased growl he gives in response sends you careening over.

He doesn’t stop, not until your body shudders and you’re left panting, your limbs heavy and boneless. When he finally lifts his head, mustache damp and lips glistening, he’s looking at you with that satisfied smirk you’ve grown accustomed to seeing.

“Fuck, I could stay down here for hours.” His voice tapers off into a groan and he doesn’t wait for a reply before pressing soft kisses along your drenched folds, letting his teeth scrape ever so lightly against your sensitive flesh. Then his tongue, broad and sinful, drags a slow, torturous stripe from your entrance to your clit.

“You could… if you wanted to,” you pant, your voice barely above a whisper as your body gears up for even more pleasure. You pull him closer, grinding your hips against his face, feeling the delicious pressure of his nose pressing against your swollen nub.

Javier lets you take what you need, his large hands gripping your thighs to hold you steady while his tongue thrusts back inside, exploring every fluttering inch. His curved nose rubs against your clit with each motion, sending you into a fucking frenzy.

You’re shameless, unabashedly humping his face, chasing the high only he can give you. And he loves it—thrives on it—his tongue relentless as it maps out every curve and crevice of your pussy. The slick, creamy mess makes it easier for you to move, his grunts and your mewling cries swirling together.

“Javi, I want to come on your cock—oh fuck!” The words tumble out before you can stop them, and his answer is a wicked nip of his teeth against your labia, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

“You will, nena,” he murmurs, his voice slurred with lust as he adjusts your legs, planting your feet at the edge of the table. He spreads you open obscenely, his dark eyes gleaming as he takes in the sight of your wet pussy laid bare for him. “But first, you’re gonna come all over my tongue again. Puta madre, you’re so fucking hot.”

His tongue flicks over your pearl rapidly and your back arches off the table as euphoria courses through you. You glance down, locking eyes with him, and the pruriency in his gaze sends you tumbling over the edge.

“Javier, oh shit!” You’re left helpless against the onslaught of his mouth, gushing all over his handsome face as he keens in satisfaction.

You collapse back against the table, your body spent and your mind still buzzing. Javier wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning smugly down at you, his girthy cock hanging heavy between you, droplets of precum squirting from the slit and drizzling down the heated shaft.

Pros of dating a pornstar: He can fuck. Cons of dating a pornstar: He can fuck.

It’s like being in a constant state of delicious ruin, where your needs—both romantic and sexual—are met in ways you never thought possible.

But damn, this man knows how to wear you the fuck out.

Sometimes he gets a little too ambitious. Twisting, bending, and pulling you into positions that make you pause and remind him, between panting breaths, that you’re not as flexible as the women he’s been with before.

“Practice makes perfect, baby,” he always says with that infuriatingly charming grin, right before fucking you so thoroughly that you forget how to breathe.

This time is no different. Javier hovers over you with the kind of dominance that makes your pussy clench, his strong hands gripping your body like he owns it.

Somehow, he’s managed to maneuver you on the awkward height of the coffee table, one leg slung over his broad shoulder while keeping your opposite thigh spread wide.

Then, with a sharp thrust, his fat cock splits you open, stretching your pussy in a way that’s so brutally perfect.

The force of it knocks a loud yelp from your lips, your forearms press against the table for balance. You can’t look away from where your bodies meet, watching in filthy fascination as your sticky folds swallow him whole and spit him back out, his cock glistening with the rich evidence of how turned on you are.

“My fucking god,” he growls, words laden with desperation, “you feel better than you fucking taste.” He spits the words out, literally, a thick bead of saliva falling from his lips to land on your cunt.

Without missing a beat, his thumb moves to your clit, pressing down and swirling in tight circles.

The pressure makes your entire body tense, a strained cry of his name tearing from your throat.

Your tits bounce wildly with every rough thrust, and his dark eyes flicker between the hypnotic sway of your breasts and the lewd sight of your pussy stretched tight around his dick.

Your mouth hangs open, brows furrowed as helpless sounds spill out while his cock punches deep into that one spot that has colorful dots blotching your vision. Your toes curl as the overwhelming feeling builds, your body on the verge of complete surrender.

“Right there, baby—oh fuck me, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” You sound wrecked, like you’ve been possessed by the pleasure he’s giving you. Your back falls flat against the table again, your hands reaching up to squeeze your tits, pulling at your nipples as you let him use your cunt however he wants. 

He deserves it.

Loose curls fall over his face, making him look so sexy while he fucks into you with everything he’s got. His tongue pokes out in concentration, his fingertips dimpling the plush skin of your thighs as he holds you steady. The poor coffee table groans beneath the brutal rhythm, creaking with every hard snap of his hips.

It doesn’t take much more—your body seizes up as you come hard, the orgasm crashing through you so violently that you’re certain you’re going to pass out. Your pussy clamps down around his shaft, milking him for everything he’s worth.

“Fuck, take it,” he groans, his pace faltering as he spills inside you, thick ropes of cum filling your pussy until you swear you can feel it gurgling in your throat. The vicious, overwhelming sensation makes you shudder, your body twitching as his weight settles against you, his cock still buried deep inside your quivering walls.

You feel pulverized, your body humming in content, but all you can think is: God, this man could fuck me to death, and I’d die happy.

Immediately, your calf seizes, the muscle knotting painfully as a piercing cry slices through your throat. Your body jerks involuntarily, hands pressing against Javier’s chest to push him off you.

“Shit, stop— cramp!” you gasp.

Javier freezes, his face instantly morphing from focused lust to deep concern. He pulls out of you carefully, hissing at the feeling, his touch tender as he lowers your trembling leg from his shoulder. “Where? Here?” He’s already massaging the rigid knot in your calf with his strong, calloused hands.

“Yeah—fuck, ow! Right there.” Another pang shoots through you, and you wince, clutching at the edge of the coffee table for stability. “I keep telling you I’m not fit for—ahh, ow!—your crazy-ass positions.”

He huffs a little laugh, though his hands never stop their steady kneading. “It wasn’t that crazy,” he mutters defensively, but one warning glare from you is enough to shut him up.

Once the cramp begins to ease, your body relaxes against the table with a long sigh. Javier’s touch softens, his thumbs now sweeping soothing circles over your calf. He leans down and presses a kiss to the tender muscle, murmuring, “Sorry, nena. Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Your heart swells at his care, and you can’t help but grin as he kisses his way up your body. His lips trace a slow, reverent path—your pelvis, the softness of your belly, the suppleness of each breast, the hollow of your throat. By the time his mouth meets yours, your annoyance is completely forgotten, replaced by a lazy, bubbling affection.

This is the first real kiss he’s given you since you got home, and it’s the kind that melts you from the inside out. You hum against his lips, your tongue tracing the curve of his mouth, savoring the way he tastes like sex and something inherently Javi.

When the kiss finally breaks, you both sit there for a moment, naked and tangled together, his cum still slick between your thighs and smearing against the surface of the table.

“I’ll try to be more considerate next time,” he says, almost teasingly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

You smirk, dragging your nails lightly down his chest. “You better, or I’ll start vetoing these gymnastic stunts of yours.”

He chuckles, his eyes dropping briefly to where his cum is trickling from you. A rueful grin spreads across his face as he reaches for the shirt he’d discarded earlier and uses it to clean the mess between your legs.

The simple domesticity of the act makes your chest ache in the best way.

As he finishes, you stretch your arms over your head, your muscles still warm and loose despite the cramp. “I need a shower, some real food... and maybe another round later.”

“Only maybe?” He raises an eyebrow, his dimpled, teasing smile returning.

You hum thoughtfully, your gaze tracing the defined line of his jaw as your finger follows. “If you think sex is gonna be a distraction from the mess in your head, think again.”

“It’s the best distraction,” he mutters. “Would rather make my girl feel good than deal with everything else.”

“And while I’m flattered, baby, it’s not the healthiest thing you can do.”

His expression falters, the cockiness slipping away like a mask being gently peeled back. “I’m fuckin’ terrible at this. Always have been,” he mutters, his hands roaming your body as if touching you might patch together all that’s unraveling inside him.

His palms are warm and firm, one cupping your breast in a gentle squeeze, the other sliding down to rest at your hip.

He kneads and caresses you, almost like you’re the one who needs the comfort instead of him. “I’ve spent so much time doing what I thought people wanted from me. Now I don’t even know what I want.”

“There’s no rush to figure it out, you know. No one’s expecting you to and I promise you’re not the only person that feels this way.”

“Feels like I’ve got nothin’ to show for myself, though. Just a pile of bullshit and a broken puzzle.”

You sit up, drawing his focus to you as your hands grip his toned biceps to steady yourself. “Hey.” Your voice is soft but insistent. “You’ve got more than you think. And I happen to like this version of you—even if he’s a grump.”

A faint smirk breaks through the inner struggle that clouds in his eyes. “Yeah? Even when I’m bein’ a lazy ass?”

“Even then,” you tease, grinning back at him.

His gaze lingers, drinking you in with an intensity that makes your stomach flutter. Slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours. You’re weightless, floating in the way only Javi can make you feel when he kisses you like this.

“I don’t deserve you, you know that?” he murmurs against your lips, his forehead resting against yours.

“It’s always nice to be reminded.”

He rolls his eyes playfully, his teeth catching your lower lip in a gentle bite before he finally lets you go. He stands, offering you his hand to pull you to your feet.

As you wobbly get up, a few puzzle pieces that had clung to your skin fall to the floor, catching both your attention. Javi chuckles, a little more relaxed than before. “Should’ve cleaned those up before spreading you open like that.”

“I feel like there’s a metaphor in there somewhere.”

He turns you gently so he can pluck off the remaining pieces, his hand lingering to deliver a playful slap to your ass which makes you giggle.

“You know,” you say after a beat, glancing at him, “this puzzle thing could be good for you. Builds patience.”

He arches a brow, skepticism written all over his face. “Once again, that isn’t exactly my strong suit, cariño.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Your grin is infectious as you nudge him lightly with your shoulder. “But maybe that’s what you need right now. Something slow. Something that’s just for you. And something that isn’t…” You trail off, eyes darting to the box abandoned on the couch. “A hideous horse puzzle. God, Javi, what even is this? I’d be pissed trying to put it together too.”

A scoff escapes him, sharp and playful, his brown eyes narrowing as he straightens. “First of all, it’s vintage,” he says, the mock defense in his tone making you laugh.

“Vintage? That’s not an excuse.” You’re already stepping back when you see the shift in his stance, the way his hand twitches toward you. “Don’t even think about it.”

But it’s too late. His fingers dart out in an attempt to pinch your side, and you squeal, darting out of reach. The sound of your laughter fills the room, loud and unrestrained as you scramble to keep distance between the two of you. He’s, unsurprisingly, quicker, his footsteps closing behind as he chases you down the hallway.

Just as you reach the bathroom door, his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against his naked body. You’re both breathless, his warm breath fanning against your ear as he holds you close. “Gotcha.”

Your heart pounds, your laughter subsiding into soft, breathy chuckles as you twist to face him. The sparkle in his eyes is undeniable and you let him walk you backwards into the bathroom with the intention of piping you down again before finally letting you shower.

The late afternoon light filters through the half-closed blinds, casting warm, golden stripes across Javier’s bedroom. You’re sprawled on his bed, your legs stretched out, absently flipping through a magazine. 

The quiet creak of the bedroom door catches your attention, and your eyes lift to meet his.

He leans against the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame, arms crossed over his chest. His white t-shirt clings to his torso in a way that makes your thighs rub together, the fabric stretched taut over his solid build. There’s a small grin on his lips as he watches you.

“Hey,” he drawls, finally pushing off the door and crossing the room.

“Hi.”

Without hesitation, he climbs onto the bed, his weight shifting the mattress beneath you. He crawls toward you, settling his head on your lap and nuzzling against your stomach. You can’t help but laugh softly, moving the magazine out of his way and onto the bedside table.

“You’re comfortable,” you tease, your fingers threading through his thick hair, twisting a few strands absently around your finger.

His eyes flutter shut at your touch, a satisfied hum rumbling from his chest. “Can’t help it. I’ve got the best pillow.”

You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. “Can I help you?”

He opens one eye, peering up at you with a smirk. “I have a gift for you.”

Your brows lift, curious. “A gift?”

“Mm-hmm,” he mutters against your skin, peppering your jawline with lazy, affectionate kisses. The bristle of his mustache has goosebumps curling over your skin. “Tis the season.” He punctuates the sentiment with a playful nip at your neck, making you squeal softly before he pulls away.

“Come on,” he tugs gently at your hand and coaxes you off the bed.

You let him guide you into the kitchen, your bare feet padding against the cool floor. He pulls out a barstool, gesturing for you to sit as he reaches for something on the counter. With a small flourish, he places a travel magazine in front of you, flipping it open to a glossy spread.

Your eyes land on the page, and your breath catches. The images are of a stunning ski resort, nestled in snow-dusted mountains with cozy lodge interiors and breathtaking views of the slopes.

“You didn’t…” you whisper, your voice caught between disbelief and excitement.

His lips tug into a wolfish smile, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes as he watches the realization dawn on your face.

“You didn’t!” you exclaim, jumping up from the stool and throwing your arms around his neck.

Your momentum nearly topples him, but he steadies the both of you with a low chuckle.

You’d mentioned it what feels like ages ago—a casual, offhand story about that ill-fated trip to the mountains with your college friends.

Everything about it had gone wrong. The busted gear, the unexpected blizzard—but through all the chaos, you’d confessed how badly you still wanted to cross skiing off your bucket list.

And Javier remembered. Not just the story, but the way your eyes had lit up despite the unfortunate circumstances. Now here he is, ready to give you that second chance—the best do-over of all time, with him.

“I had to,” he murmurs by your ear. “Spending a week on a winter retreat with you seems a lot more fun than going home this year.”

You don’t press about his family, knowing it’s a tricky subject. Instead, you let the moment settle, your heart swelling with gratitude for his thoughtfulness.

“You’re the best,” you say between a flurry of kisses, peppering his face until his deep chuckle vibrates against your palms. His eyes crinkle at the corners, happiness radiating from him as he gazes down at you.

“The best for you,” he replies softly. “You deserve this, nena. Workin’ so hard all the time… I just wanted to give you somethin’ special.”

You shake your head, grinning so hard it hurts your cheeks. “Do you know how impossible it’s going to be to top this?”

He laughs, the sound rich and warm. “I wasn’t expecting anything in return.”

“What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t get my man a gift?” You’re already racking your brain for ideas. It has to be something meaningful—something that feels right for him, not just a wallet or some cologne.

He pulls you onto his lap when he sits on the barstool, going over the details. 

Everything’s covered, he explains—all you have to do is pack and show your pretty ass up. Your excitement bubbles over at the thought, visions of cozy lodge nights and snowy adventures filling your mind.

“Guess I need to go shopping,” you say, already making mental plans to call Connie for help picking out the perfect wardrobe.

Javi chuckles, leaning in to kiss your temple. “Just don’t forget to pack a swimsuit.”

“A swimsuit? For a ski trip?”

He grins, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Hot tubs, nena. Trust me, I plan on having a lot of fun with you while we’re away.”

The resort feels like a dream you don’t want to wake up from. It’s only been a few days, and you’re already dreading your departure.

Javier really hadn’t held back, booking a private cabin with sweeping views of the snow-kissed mountain horizon.

A real Christmas tree stands proudly in the corner of the living room, next to the fireplace, its lights twinkling softly against the glassy expanse of the giant windows that line the walls.

Despite the openness, the space feels warm and intimate, like it was made just for the two of you.

And then there’s the hot tub. Nestled in the patio area overlooking the gorgeous scenery, it practically beckons you to defile it, steam curling up against the chilled glass. 

You’ve been biding your time, waiting for the right moment to unveil the gift you have for him. It’s actually kind of genius and the perfect way to help pull him out of his post-porn funk. 

For now, though, you’re content to let the days unfold naturally, filled with skiing lessons, childish snowball fights outside your cabin, and lots of great sex.

The lift sways gently as it carries you and Javier up the mountain, the cool air biting at your cheeks, though you barely notice.

Your attention drifts to him, as it often does—his profile sharp and striking against the backdrop of the rising sun. The golden light casts a glow over the snowy peaks, painting the scene in colors too beautiful to let slip away.

You shift closer to him, the insulated fabric of your jacket brushing against his as you tilt your head to rest on his shoulder. His arm instinctively drapes across your lap, steadying you, his gloved hand giving your thigh a light squeeze.

“Take a picture with me,” your voice is eager, breaking the quiet hum of the lift.

Javier turns his head, a brow quirked beneath the edge of his snow goggles. “Now? On this thing?”

“Yes, now.” You’re already moving to pull the small camera out of your pocket. “The view is perfect, and I want to remember this.”

He chuckles, leaning back slightly to give you space to situate the camera. “Alright, but if you drop it, don’t start bitching at me.”

You roll your eyes, holding the camera up and adjusting the angle to capture the two of you against the sprawling mountains bathed in warm hues, making the snow sparkle. 

You make sure to move both of your goggles so they’re resting atop of your head, your faces on full display.

Javier tilts his head closer to yours, his hand slipping to your waist to pull you snug against him.

“Smile,” you say, though you know it’s unnecessary—he’s already grinning, that playful smirk you’ve come to adore on his pouty pink lips.

The camera clicks as you take a few photos. Smiling, him kissing your cheek, and you quickly check the screen once you’re finished, heart warming at the sight of the two of you.

“See? Perfect.” You declare, showing him the pictures.

He glances at them, mirroring the same doting expression you’d just made. “You make ‘em look perfect, nenita.”

As the lift continues to ascend, you find yourself watching him more than the scenery. 

It’s hard not to marvel at the layers to this man who had once driven you up the wall. You think back to when you first met him—how easily you’d pegged him as cocky and self-centered, someone who wore his charm like a defense mechanism.

It feels surreal now, knowing how wrong you were. Javier wasn’t just the confident pornstar that could command a room with just a look or a smile. He was thoughtful, protective, and deeply giving in ways that made your heart stutter. You can’t fathom how someone like his ex would ever think about cheating on him.

Lost in thought, you don’t realize you’ve gone quiet until he glances down at you, brows knitting slightly.

“What’s on your mind, cariño?”

“You really surprise me, you know that?”

His expression shifts, the teasing edge softening into something more earnest. “Surprise you how?”

“I thought I had you all figured out when we first met.”

His mustache twitches as he bites back a knowing grin. “In your defense, I didn’t let you see more than that.” 

“Yeah, I know...” You laugh lightly, shaking your head. “But I couldn’t have been more wrong. You’re… so much more than I gave you credit for.”

He’s quiet for a second, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Guess I should thank you for giving me a chance to prove you wrong.”

You lean in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, nose scrunching as the hairs of his mustache tickle you. “You’ve done more than just prove me wrong, Javi.”

The lift jerks slightly as it approaches the landing, but neither of you move right away. The world feels quieter here, suspended between earth and sky, just the two of you and the golden light.

“You’re going to make me fall for you talkin’ like that.”

You feel warmth spreading in your chest at his words, wondering if it’s too soon to start catching feelings like this.

You smile against his mouth, not saying anything yet not needing to, before pulling back to move your face covering up and adjust your goggles back over your eyes in preparation to go down the snowy hill.

Your shoulders ache slightly from today’s falls, but it’s the kind of soreness that feels good—earned, but nevertheless annoying. Like now, as you pick yourself up from yet another fall, calling it quits.

“You held out a lot longer than I expected.” Javier teases, his voice muffled by his face covering but still carrying that low, raspy timbre that makes your stomach flutter.

“Shut up,” you grumble, and you’re glad he can’t see the smile tugging at your lips.

You take him in—bundled up in his blue snow suit, goggles perched perfectly in place, his broad shoulders and confident stance somehow still exuding that effortless magnetism he carries everywhere.

Even out here, in the freezing cold, with his face obscured, he manages to look unfairly sexy.

Something about him always pulls you in. Maybe it’s the way his energy feels like gravity, anchoring you to every little thing he does. Or maybe it’s how even the simplest acts—like standing on a snowy hillside—become more vivid, more fun, more everything with him.

Your boots crunch through the snow, the skis clumsy but manageable. He’s watching you, his stance casual, hands resting on his poles as if he’s been doing this his whole life.

He had picked up on this activity much quicker than you. The instructor even called him a natural—but you’re certain she was only saying that because she was attracted to him… which, honestly, fair.

“This is your thing,” he says as you approach. “You’re the one who wanted to cross this off your little list. I’m just here for moral support... and to check you out in that suit.”

You burst out laughing, nearly stumbling again as you try to grab the poles you’d dropped when you fell over. “You can barely see anything in this suit,” you shoot back, gesturing to the thick layers of waterproof fabric that make you feel more like a marshmallow than a person.

“Baby,” he drawls, stepping closer, “I could make out those tits and that ass under anything.”

You shake your head, warmth blooming across your cheeks. “You’re such a fucking flirt,” you say, though your voice softens as his gloved hand reaches out to pull you to him.

“And yet, here you are,” he murmurs, leaning just close enough that you catch the mischievous glint in his eyes through the reflective goggles.

“Here I am.”

You’re back at the general area where you’d first gotten your ski gear, adjusting your snow boots while Javier deals with returning your equipment. 

The air is warm inside the lodge, a stark contrast to the crisp chill outside, and the hum of other skiers and snowboarders unwinding after their runs fills the space.

You’re so focused on fastening a particularly stubborn buckle that the sound of your name catches you off guard.

Your head snaps up, brows furrowing, and there he is. Frankie.

He’s making his way toward you, his strides familiar, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, and that lazy, warm smile plastered on his face like it hasn’t been forever since you last saw him.

Your surprise must show because his grin widens slightly as he stops in front of the bench you’re sitting on.

“Frankie, wow, hey.” Your voice is polite, if a little flat.

He wastes no time, dropping down onto the bench beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The sudden weight makes it creak, and though you subtly shift a little away, he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

“Small world.” He’s looking at you with an easy kind of interest, eyes warm and familiar. You have a type. “Didn’t know you were into skiing, hermosa. How have you been?”

Your stomach does a little flip at the damn nickname but you keep your expression neutral, returning your focus to lacing your second boot. “Great, actually. I’m trying it for the first time. Been taking lessons since we got here.”

His brow lifts, amused. “And how’s that going for you?”

You laugh lightly, shaking your head as you tug off your gloves. “I’ve wiped out more times than I’d care to admit.”

He chuckles, stripping off his own gloves, clearly in no rush.

“So what brings you here?” The question feels innocent enough.

“Trip with the guys,” he answers, nodding his head in the direction of a group near a counter. You glance over and sure enough, you see the familiar faces from his circle, all caught up in their own conversation.

“Sounds fun,” you offer, “How’s Elliana? Not too happy her daddy’s missing Christmas, I’m sure.” You smile teasingly, meaning no harm, but the flicker of something on his face makes you pause. His jaw tenses ever so slightly, and the way he drops his gaze feels telling.

“She’s great. Actually, on a trip of her own with her mom and her... uh, new boyfriend.”

You catch the faint cringe he tries to hide as the explanation comes tumbling out. Your chest tightens in an uncomfortable way, not out of sympathy for him, exactly, but more at the reminder of why you two had split up to begin with.

Looks like his effort to “work things out” hadn’t exactly panned out.

“Good for her,” you reply softly, though the exchange feels a little awkward now, like neither of you knows quite where to steer the conversation.

Frankie opens his mouth to say something else, maybe an apology for oversharing or another attempt at small talk, but before he can, you catch a glimpse of Javier weaving through the crowd.

Your heart lifts instantly, as if the room somehow brightens at the sight of him. His tall frame stands out, eyes scanning the lodge, clearly searching for you.

You don’t give Frankie the chance to drag things out any further.

You quickly gather your things, standing as casually as you can. “I have to get going,” you announce, shouldering your bag. “Enjoy the rest of your stay, Frankie.”

He hesitates before he gives you a small nod. “For sure. You too, hermosa. See you around.”

You give him a brief wave before turning and making your way to Javier, your boots thudding lightly against the floor.

His face lights up when he spots you, his gloved hand resting gently on your lower back once he pulls you to him.

“You all set?” he asks, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. The simple affection melts away whatever oddness you felt lingering from your run-in with Frankie.

“Yeah,” you reply, glancing up at him. He looks so effortlessly attractive, his cheeks pink from the cold and brown hair tousled from being under his hat. “I’m ready to get all cozy by the fire.” You purr the words a little, blinking up at him, and it works like a charm.

That sweet smile of his shifts into something sultry, and you don’t miss the way his fingers curl slightly against your back.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” His voice slipping into that seductive, honeyed tone that makes you wish you could fuck a voice. “Lead the way, nena.”

The cocktail table feels like your personal island amidst the ebb and flow of the crowd, the muted hum of holiday music weaving through the air. Warmth blooms across your cheeks from the drinks you’ve nursed through the night, and the haze only amplifies the rich sound of Javier’s laughter.

His hand rests on your lower back, fingertips brushing over the smooth, exposed skin where your dress dips low. The heat of his touch sears into you, enticing enough to have you arching into him.

You giggle as he leans in closer, his breath grazing your ear as he whispers something puckishly suggestive. “You keep lookin’ at me like that and we’re not makin’ it back to the cabin without me pulling this dress off you.”

Your thighs press together instinctively and you bite down on your lip, tilting your head to look up at him, your eyes swimming with the shared heat between you. “Don’t tempt me into letting you do it,” your words are a bit slurred from the alcohol, saturated with desire.

“Oh, I’m not looking to tempt you,” he murmurs, his hand sliding an inch lower. “I’m promising you.”

Your stomach flips, and the idea of staying out any longer feels suddenly impossible, the phantom touch of his hands and lips on you eclipsing all reason.

If there wasn’t an audience, you know you’d already be on your knees with four inches in your mouth, trying to fit the other four like the needy little thing he reduces you to when he gets you all horny.

“Sit tight, nena,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your lips. “Gotta hit the restroom. When I’m back, we’ll settle up and get out of here.”

You nod, though your brain barely processes the words as your eyes follow him weaving through the throng of people, his presence polarizing even in his absence. 

As you sip the last of your drink, your gaze shifts to the large windows lining the restaurant. 

Even at night, the resort resembles something out of a postcard. The twinkling holiday lights outside illuminating the snow in festive tones. You let yourself sink into the magic of it all, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of your glass, a serene moment settling over you—until it’s promptly shattered.

“Look who it is,” a voice cuts through the ambient noise, pulling your attention.

Your head turns, and there’s Frankie, his easy grin and brown eyes locked on you. He’s not alone, three more figures flank him—Santi, Benny, and Will, each wearing varying degrees of amusement on their faces. The sight of them, clearly under the influence and rowdy, throws you a little.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Frankie quips, his voice carrying that raspy drawl you once found charming.

Your eyes narrow, your posture stiffening. “You keep finding me, wouldn’t necessarily call that meeting,” you acknowledge curtly, trying to keep your voice neutral.

“Once he told us you were here, we couldn’t pass up the chance to say hello,” Benny adds, his grin wolfish as he scans you from head to toe, and you can practically feel his gaze lingering on the dip of your dress. “We miss having you around.”

You know these men. You spent enough time with them while dating Frankie to be able to place them all.

Santi, the smooth-talking charmer who always seems a little too pleased with himself. Benny, the loud, lovable wildcard who you’re sure has never taken anything seriously in his life. And Will, the quiet one with a piercing gaze that could unnerve anyone who wasn’t used to it.

They’re a reminder of why you usually avoid military men. Sure, they’re hot as hell, their confidence and strength undeniably attractive. But beneath that lies a mess of issues—trauma, control, and a certain recklessness that always seems to spill over into their romantic lives.

Frankie had been no different, but he’d wormed his way past your better judgment with that soft charm and rough-around-the-edges allure. And it didn’t hurt that he was real fucking good at eating pussy.

Not as good as Javier, though.

You take a step back, your hand reflexively resting on the edge of the table as though to steady yourself. Their presence feels suffocating, a sharp contrast to the cozy, all consuming warmth you’d just shared with Javi.

“That’s nice of you, but my boyfriend should be back any minute now...”

There’s a beat of silence as your words hang in the air, they exchange looks and you watch Frankie’s expression flicker—something almost smug crossing his features before it’s masked by a crooked smile. “Boyfriend, huh?”

Benny lets out a low whistle, leaning his forearms against the table top. “Didn’t think anyone could tame Fish’s girl.”

“Tame?” You shoot him a glare. “I’m not a fucking animal and certainly not his girl. Not for a while now. So you can all fuck off.”

They laugh at you and that only fires you up even more. Frankie slaps his hand on Benny’s shoulder, shaking him slightly. “Ease up man, she doesn’t take any shit.”

Benny cocks his head, his eyes gleaming with drunken amusement. “Which I think is hot. Definitely wouldn’t have fumbled you like this asshole did. And you do porn?” Another low whistle and you swear your eye twitches.

Before you can respond, Santi jumps in, his smirk as infuriating as ever. “No, no,” he says, shaking his head with mock seriousness. “Camera woman. Not actually a pornstar. Though,” he adds, now his turn to fuck you with his eyes, “I think you’d be a lot better in front of the camera, hermosa.”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, your patience wearing thin. You can’t stay in this conversation any longer. 

Santi raises his hands in false defense, his grin never faltering. Meanwhile, Will leans over to whisper something into his brother’s ear, and you catch the shift in Benny’s expression as he gives you a once-over, his gaze laced with something that makes your skin crawl.

You grip the glass in your hand tighter, seriously contemplating how much damage it could do.

“Things serious with your new man?” Frankie replaces Will across from you and you roll your eyes.

The audacity. “Yes,” you say through gritted teeth. “Very.” You lean forward slightly, your voice dropping into a cutting tone. “If I were you, I’d leave before he gets back… or before I shove the stem of this glass down your throat.”

Their laughter rises again, whistling and being overly obnoxious about your reply, but you ignore it, your focus razor-sharp on your ex.

“We had our time together, Frankie, and you decided to cut it short by going back to the mother of your child. Whatever, fine, shit happens, but now you’re acting like a real jerk. All of you are and I have no interest in continuing whatever the fuck this is, so, leave.”

You can tell your words hit their mark. Frankie has always respected your no-nonsense attitude, but being on the receiving end clearly doesn’t sit well with him. 

Just as you turn to remove yourself from this stifling mess altogether, Javier reappears.

Javier doesn’t expect to come back and find four men crowding you, their broad shoulders and cocky stances cutting into your space like they own it. The sight stops him cold, but only for a second. Then his back straightens, his jaw locking tight as something territorial flares in his chest.

One of them catches his eye immediately—the scruffy, stray-dog-looking motherfucker he’d recognize anywhere.

That damn Malibu shoot, the tipping point for all the change that came after. The memory of Frankie all over you, the obnoxious flirting, how you had played into it.

Then you left Robbie’s crew and he made his move, securing you as his girlfriend, getting exactly what he wanted.

Javier had no right to feel possessive when it happened, even though every fiber of his being had screamed at him to do something about it. Sure, you shared moments that left him restless and aching for more, but it wasn’t enough to stake a claim, no matter how badly he wanted to, and you were so adamant about not wanting anything to do with him.

So, he’d done the only thing he could—told himself to get over it and buried the jealousy under layers of maintained indifference.

But now? Now you’re his girl. The first real, healthy relationship he’s had since Lorraine, and there’s no way in hell he’s holding back about anything when it comes to you. Especially not when Frankie and his action-movie crew are standing there, eyeing you like you’re some trophy to win.

“What’s goin’ on?” His voice cuts through the noise of their conversation, sharp and unyielding as he closes the distance.

He’s met with four pairs of eyes—two amused, one indifferent, and Frankie’s, which narrow slightly in recognition. Javier keeps his focus steady, his gaze hard as he takes them in.

His confidence has grown over the years, forged by his experiences and the praise from the industry. Yet, there’s still that lingering thread of insecurity that twists in his gut as he watches Frankie make his indifference clear.

“We were just catching up. Saying hello,” Frankie answers almost too casually, but his eyes gleam with something else—a challenge.

Javier doesn’t flinch. Instead, he steps closer to you, his hand finding your waist. “Looks like you’ve said it. Time to move on.”

Beside Frankie, one of the men grins as if he’s enjoying the show. “Easy, man,” he says, his tone teasing. “We’re just being friendly.”

Javier’s jaw ticks, a muscle in his cheek jumping as his grip on you tightens slightly. “Friendly looks more like crowding someone who doesn’t want to talk to you.”

While you’ve never gone into detail about what you had with Frankie, the updates Javier had gotten from Steve are enough to stir doubts. Words like satisfied are currently resurfacing to make him question things he knows aren’t true.

These men are something he isn’t. And even though you’re together now, there’s a small, irrational part of him that wonders if one day you’ll realize he isn’t what you want.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you—he does, with everything he’s got. But being cheated on leaves wounds that never fully close, scars that ache at the worst times. And seeing Frankie standing there, beaming like he still has a chance, stirs something primal in Javier.

“No need to get territorial, Peña. We were just having a little fun. Besides…” He trails off, his gaze flicking briefly to you before returning to Javier. “She can handle herself.”

Javier’s blood boils, his free hand twitching at his side. It would take so little—a single punch to wipe that smug look off his face. But then your hand is on his chest, soft and grounding.

“It’s fine. I was just telling them to leave.” 

Frankie’s gaze lingers on you in a look he recognizes all too well because he looks at you in the same goddamn way, and that has his vision tunneling.

“No harm done,” He steps back with exaggerated nonchalance. But then he throws one last barb over at you. “We’ll catch up some other time, hermosa.”

Javier doesn’t think, words slipping out before he can stop them. “No, the fuck you won’t. In fact, if I see any of you bother her again, I won’t hesitate to kick your ass.”

“Yeah? I’d like to see you try.”

For a moment it looks like things might escalate. But one of the other men—blonde, with a calmer air about him—steps in.

“Alright, boys,” he says, reaching out to pull his friend back. “Let’s not make a scene.”

Frankie hesitates, his jaw tightening, but he relents with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever.”

Javier watches them retreat, his heart still pounding, until they’re out of sight. Only then does he let his shoulders drop slightly.

“Hey,” you say gently, tilting your head to catch his gaze. “You okay?”

“I didn’t like that one fucking bit,” he mutters, his voice rough.

Your smile is gentle, reassuring, and you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek which melts him immediately. “They don’t matter,” you whisper, your lips brushing his skin. “You’re the only one I care about.”

The words ease the last of the tension, and Javier lets out a breath, pulling you close. “Damn right,” his tone softens as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Let’s get out of here,” you suggest, a small mischievous smile on your face, “Your gift is waiting for you back at the cabin.”

It’s as if the entire confrontation is forgotten at your words and he becomes intrigued immediately. “Oh yeah? Then what the fuck are we doin’ still standing here. Let’s go.”

“Are your eyes closed?”

Javier leans against the armrest of the couch, his lips curving into a small smile as your voice carries from the bedroom.

“Yeah,” he replies, shifting slightly, his eyes obediently shut.

“You’re not lying to me?”

“No.” He chuckles, the deep, easy sound rumbling from his chest.

There’s the faint shuffle of movement, and then he feels you—the subtle electricity that always seems to spark when you’re near.

His hands are cupped in front of him as instructed, his curiosity piqued. He has no idea what you’ve planned, no inkling of what’s coming.

Honestly, he can’t believe you actually got him anything. The trip itself has been more than enough—a week of unfiltered joy, amazing sex, and waking up to you in his arms. If that isn’t a gift in itself, then what is?

Then you’re standing in front of him, placing something in his hands. He feels the cool weight of it, the texture of smooth plastic beneath his fingertips.

“Okay, you can open them now.”

Javier’s eyes flutter open, immediately drawn to the object cradled in his palms. It’s a handheld camcorder, a glossy red ribbon tied around it like the finishing touch on a present. His brows knit together in brief confusion, but before he can ask, you fill in the blanks.

“I want us to make a tape together, Javi.”

Your words hit him like a freight train. No, they hit his cock like a freight train, and the damn thing stirs to life before his brain even fully registers the meaning.

“You naughty little thing,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into that gravelly tone that always gets a rise out of you.

You bite your lip, a playful giggle escaping. “I figured it’d be something fun for us,” you say, stepping closer until he can smell the faint traces of your perfume. “Plus… I really like how you fuck on camera. Not that it’s any different from what we do, but…”

You trail off with a small, breathy moan that makes Javier’s restraint snap. He sets the camera carefully on the couch before pulling you closer, his hands gripping the hem of your dress and bunching the fabric in his fists as he pulls you between his knees.

“But…?” he prompts, his lips finding the curve of your neck. He kisses, nips, and licks, each touch of his mouth drawing little gasps from you. You taste divine, every inch of you always does.

“But it’s different,” you breathe, your fingers digging into his biceps as his teeth graze your skin. “I want to experience what all those other stars do when shooting a scene with you.”

His lips crash against yours, the kiss heated and possessive. He can taste the remnants of the cocktails you had at dinner, but more than that, he tastes you.

The memory of those old sets pales in comparison to the thought of filming with you.

“I’m all yours, nena,” he growls against your lips, his hands slipping lower to slap your ass then gripping onto the flesh. “This is a brilliant fucking idea. I’ve been telling you how hot you’d look on camera. How do you want to do this?”

Your smile is roguish, your confidence intoxicating. “I want us to take turns filming... directing… Wanna get some good shots of me sucking your cock.”

Your hand trails down his arm, skimming over the muscles there, then lower to pinch his hip before you palm his erection through his pants, his hips jerking involuntarily as he grunts.

“And I definitely need footage of that tongue of yours working my pussy,” you add, your tone sultry. “We’ll figure the rest out as we go. I want to start in the hot tub.”

Javier swears under his breath, his head tilting back slightly as your touch sends a fresh wave of desire through him. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters, voice thick with need.

You smile, giving him one last squeeze before pulling away, leaving him half-dazed and completely aroused. “Get changed and take the camera outside. I’ll join you once I put on my costume.”

“Costume?” His brows arch in curiosity as his eyes track your retreating form.

“Costume might be pushing it. It’s something to set the tone for the amateur vibe I want this to have. Even if we know what we’re doing.”

“Whatever you want,” he’s so desperate to take you, “I’m going to tear you the fuck up.”

You blow him a kiss, your giddiness as palpable as his. 

Javier watches you disappear into the bedroom, letting out a long breath as he stands and moves to his bag which you had purposefully, he realizes, brought out before leaving for dinner.

He pulls out his swim trunks, quickly changing and grabbing the camera again. He can’t help the simper pulling at his lips as he removes the ribbon and flits through the settings, familiarizing himself with it.

Javier slides open the patio door, the soft scrape of the glass breaking the stillness of the night. A cool breeze rushes in, sharp against his skin, but it’s a refreshing contrast to the heat coursing through his veins.

The glow of the string lights overhead reflects off the rippling water of the hot tub. They frame the scene perfectly, tiny stars encircling what already feels like a secluded slice of paradise.

He steps out onto the wooden deck, the chill biting at his bare chest and legs. A small shiver runs through him, but it’s chased away the moment he dips into the steaming water. The heat rises to meet him, coiling around him like an inviting embrace.

Javier lowers himself deeper into the tub, the warmth spreading instantly, soothing muscles. The jets hum to life with the press of a button, sending gentle ripples across the surface. Another tap, and the colorful lights beneath the water bloom, shifting from deep blue to vivid green, then a lurid red.

He leans back against the edge, one arm stretched casually along the rim, the other cradling the camcorder.

The setting is perfect—intimate, cozy, and alive with the kind of cinematic allure that’s been a part of his life for so long. Only this time, it’s personal. This time, it’s with you.

“Alright, I’m coming out,” your voice calls from inside, and Javier’s pulse spikes as if his body already knows it’s about to be wrecked. 

He shifts in the water, the tent in his briefs straining beneath the surface. His fingers move automatically, adjusting his grip on the camcorder, raising it to eye level, his thumb brushing over the small record button.

“Ready whenever you are,” he says, his voice a little lower, raspier.  

Through the steamy glass, he tracks your shadowy movements, catching fleeting glimpses of red that tease him to the point of madness.

The condensation and reflections blur the details, but it only adds to the attraction. He can feel his heart thudding against his ribs, a primal drumbeat that matches the ache in his cock.  

And then you step out, framed by the sliding door like a vision he couldn’t conjure even in his wildest fantasies.  

“Fuck me.”

The red bikini bottoms sit high on your hips, the delicate ties framing your curves like artwork. That vivid, sinful shade of red makes your skin seem to glow, the contrast leaving him weak.

In one hand is a bottle of champagne, the other holding two flutes, and his tongue pokes against his cheek at how festive you’re being.

He zooms in with the camera, starting at your legs then capturing every dip and swell of your thighs, the plushness he knows so well.

The lens follows up, slowly drinking in the soft curve of your stomach, lingering over the way your tits press against the satin ribbon wrapped around them like a present he’s dying to open. The bow tied between your cleavage looks precarious, like it might unravel at the slightest tug.

The silky fabric is no match for the chill in the air, your hardened nipples poking through in a way that makes his tongue twitch in his mouth at the thought of flitting it over the stiffened peaks. 

But then his gaze—and the lens—finds your face, and it’s game over. Your lips are parted, plump and glistening as you lick them, the slight haze in your eyes a telltale sign of the alcohol still swimming in your veins. Your lashes frame your eyes perfectly, their sparkle teasing him as if daring him to lose control.  

His mind is already racing ahead, imagining the way those lips will part as you take his cock into his mouth, the way your head will tilt back when he suckles at your clit, or how your eyes will roll into your skull when he’s buried deep inside your tight cunt.

“You look so fucking good. Shit,” he breathes, his voice shaky. The camcorder threatens to tremble in his hand as he refocuses on you, watching you strike playful poses against the doorframe, snowflakes getting caught in your hair.

Each one is more tantalizing than the last, and when you bend over to show him your sweet ass, he zooms in on how the red fabric outlines your pussy.

“Thank you,” you purr, your voice smooth and syrupy as you turn and saunter toward the tub, setting the drink and glasses aside. You exaggerate the sway of your hips, fully aware of the effect you have on him, and it’s almost too much.

He’s never had a woman make him feel this way.

Javier keeps the camera trained on you, his years of expertise blending seamlessly with his overwhelming desire to immortalize this moment.

The way the light dances off your skin, the ripple against your flesh as you move sensually, your smile—it’s all so perfectly you.

For a moment, he forgets the camera is even there. Every inch of you seems made for him, like a custom design he never dreamed he’d be lucky enough to have.

When you finally join him, stepping into the steaming water, his restraint frays to a thread. He’s gripping the camcorder like it’s the only thing keeping him from lunging at you.

“You’re teasing me, baby,” he rasps as he films you lowering yourself into the tub.  

“I know,” you reply with a flirty smile. “But don’t you love it?”  

“Too much,” he shifts his legs to relieve some of the pressure at his crotch, though it’s futile. He’s already undone, and the night’s only just begun. 

“Keep posing, like you did by the door,” Javier instructs while his dark eyes remain fixed on you, not the viewfinder. Capturing this for later is one thing, but experiencing it now is something he wants seared into his memory for the rest of his life.

“Flirt with the camera using those beautiful eyes, nena.”

You bite your lip, your lashes lowering as you tilt your head, blinking slowly at the lens. You know exactly what to do, and he guesses this comes from watching the other stars do it on set.

The result is undeniably erotic. Knowing that you’ve never done it before like this, yet exude such natural talent, makes the moment infinitely hotter.

The water kisses your skin, glistening under the string lights and making every curve gleam like a jewel. You shift your weight, cocking your hip, arching your back—it’s fluid, seductive. Droplets of water run over your tits and how badly does he want to reach out and lick at them.

He will, he just wants to get enough footage of just you being so damn sexy.

You move with languid grace, tilting your head just so, and then giggling as you reach for the champagne. The sound is rousing, making his cock twitch.

You curl your finger, beckoning him closer, and he obeys without hesitation, the camera steady in his hands as he floats toward you. 

You pour the golden liquid into your glass, bringing it to your lips with a playful flick of your tongue along the rim, a teasing preview of what’s to come.

When you tilt your head back, letting the bubbly glide past your lips, your throat moves with every swallow and he makes sure to let the shot linger there, fixated.

“Mmm,” the sound is a decadent hum that has his teeth sinking into his lower lip. “Tastes so good.”

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he growls, his large hand reaching up to cradle your jaw. His thumb brushes over your cheek, warm and damp under his touch, before sinking his fingers into the soft skin. “Look at how gorgeous my girl is.”

He angles your face toward the camera, showing you off like a precious work of art. You go pliant under his touch, your eyes locking on the lens as you bring the glass to your lips again, deliberately spilling the champagne, letting it cascade over your jaw and his waiting fingers, trickling down his wrist in a sticky, sparkling trail.

“Oops,” you say, your tone dripping with false innocence. Lowering your head, your tongue darts out, tracing the line of champagne from his pulse point up to his fingers.

You take the tip of his finger into your mouth, sucking lightly, swirling your tongue around the pad before releasing it with a wet, lingering kiss.

“Dios mío,” Javier groans, his hips shifting as his swollen cock brushes against your thigh. The soft gasp that escapes you only feeds his need. “Pretty and dirty. A real fuckin’ star.”

His hand trails lower, abandoning your face to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over the damp fabric before tugging at it, unraveling it completely. 

The cool air kisses your skin just before his touch follows, warm and possessive. He doesn’t ask—Javier never does when it comes to adoring you; he just takes, knowing how much you love it.

Especially when he plays with your tits.

You shake them playfully, the soft, bouncing motion making him snarl, the sound rumbling low in his chest.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his hand kneading your flesh, his thumb brushing over your nipple before he pinches it just hard enough to draw a sharp gasp from your lips.

His eyes flicker to the viewfinder, ensuring the camera catches every detail as he lavishes attention on you, pinching and rolling your puckered tips between his fingers until you’re squirming against him.

“Give me the camera,” you breathe through soft whimpers, reaching for it. He hands it over without a second thought, his hands lingering on yours as he relinquishes the device. 

The power shifts, and you waste no time, pointing the lens at him. “Suck on my tits, Javi,” you coo, each word laced with seduction, and his reaction is immediate.

He pulls you against him, your bodies slick with the heat and bubbles of the water, his hard cock pressing insistently between your thighs. His mouth finds your nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before he sucks it into his mouth, his teeth grazing it just enough to make you whine.

Your free hand tangles in his damp hair, guiding his head and angling his face for the camera as he lavishes attention on you. The viewfinder captures everything: the way his lips move, how his tongue circles your areola, the glistening trail of water droplets and his spit on your skin.

His mouth moves to your other breast to do the same, sucking harder this time.

“So good, baby,” your voice trembles with pleasure. “You’re so good to me.”

He chuckles low against your chest, relishing in your praise and how he’s able to make you react.

His large hands slide up, cupping your breasts as he pushes them together, burying his face between them and motorboating you. The deep, playful groan he lets out makes you laugh breathlessly behind the camera.

“Pass me the champagne,” Javi murmurs, his lips brushing your collarbone.

You loosen your hold on his hair, reaching for the bottle. The moment it’s in his hands, he tilts it back for a quick swig, the liquid catching the light as it drips from the corner of his mouth.

He pours a generous stream over your chest, the cool champagne trickling down the valley of your breasts. His tongue is quick to chase it, licking and sucking every drop, his movements rougher now, hungrier.

You adjust the camera, your arm stretched out to capture the way his mouth trails up to your neck, nipping and kissing as if he can’t get enough.

The wet, desperate sounds of your kisses fill the air, drowning out the gentle hum of the hot tub jets.

It’s messy, all tongue and teeth, as if he’s trying to consume you entirely.

Javier takes the camera back without breaking the kiss, adjusting the angle to film the way your lips move against his. His free hand grips your waist, guiding the both of you backward until his body presses against the tub’s edge. 

Snowflakes drift in on the breeze, clinging to your hair and his, melting instantly against your heated skin.

“You gonna be a good girl and show the camera how much you love my cock? How good you are at taking him down your throat?” he asks, his voice thick with lust, his lips brushing against your ear.

He zooms in on how your mouth parts in an eager smile.

“Yes,” you breathe, nodding with unrestrained excitement.

Javier lifts himself onto the tub’s edge, the chill in the air biting at his skin, but he doesn't care, not with the way his excitement overrides any of his discomfort. His legs remain submerged, spreading wide to give you space.

You move between them, the warm water lapping at your waist as your hands trail up his legs, your fingers kneading the firm muscle.

“I’ll make it extra good for you today, baby,” you promise, and he knows you mean every word.

He lifts his hips up to help you pull down his trunks, his erection bobbing free from its constraints. Javier hisses as the cool air hits him, but it’s quickly soothed when you wrap your fingers around his shaft and he groans, your softer touch feeling like fucking heaven.

You stroke him a few times, and the visual of you jerking his cock while the bubbles from the jets flutter around your bod has him tightening his grip on the camera.

As he watches you, he knows—he wouldn’t change a single thing about what got you here.

Not the fights, not the doubts, not the messy way you two stumbled into this, because every moment led to this one.

You hum, looking up at him through your lashes, giving the camera a flirty wink before your tongue darts out to kitten lick at his weeping tip, his skin flushed a devious red.

You start slowly, teasing the sensitive skin of his spongy head, swirling around it and tasting the saltiness of the precum that beads at the slit. He sucks in a sharp breath, his free hand tangling in your hair to guide you closer.

“So fucking perfect.”

Your eyes twinkle at the praise, taking him deeper, your lips stretching around his girth. The camera captures every second—his cock disappearing into your mouth, the way your cheeks hollow as you suck, the slick sounds of your efforts filling the air.

Javier’s hips jerk, unable to hold still as you bob your head, your tongue working him over. Drool slips from the corners of your lips, mixing with the water from the tub as you take him as deep as you can, gagging, the messy display making him curse under his breath.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, his voice breaking. “You’re so goddamn good at this.”

You moan around him, the vibration making his grip in your hair tighten. You pull back to catch your breath, your hand stroking him while your tongue laves attention along the underside of his shaft, tracing every pulsating vein.

“Messy little thing,” he murmurs, the camera focusing on the spit shining his cock, dripping from your chin as you smile wickedly up at him.

“I like it messy,” you reply, your voice a foxy, hoarse purr before you take him back into your mouth, sucking harder, faster, the wet, obscene sounds driving him closer to finishing.

The camera feels heavier in his hand as he adjusts the focus, trying to capture every detail of this moment, but his heart beats faster when he realizes the truth: no recording, no photo, nothing tangible could ever truly do justice to what he feels right now. It’s more than physical. It’s more than lust.

It’s her. She’s it. She’s everything.

As if reading his mind, your gaze flicks up to meet his, and you fucking smile with his cock in your mouth.

He exhales a shaky breath, barely holding on to his composure when you release him with an audible pop and trail your tongue down his length. The hand pumping him doesn’t slow, but your mouth finds his inner thigh then his balls, licking and biting just enough to make his leg tense under you.

“Where do you want to come, Javi?” Your voice is a soft, breathy rasp, and his whole body reacts to the sound of it. Your hand moves faster, and he’s unable to form an answer before you stop abruptly, making him curse under his breath.

“In my hand?” Your grip tightens around his cock.

“Goddammit,” his frustration turns to a low, guttural noise when you lower your mouth and tap the tip of his cock against your tongue.

“Or on my tongue?” The slick glide of your lips as you tease him is pure torture, but you’re not done. You push your chest forward, letting his dick slap against the humps of your tits.

“Maybe all over these?” Your voice is sweet, almost playful, but your intentions are anything but. The sight of his cock glistening against your skin, the jiggle of your flesh under his weight, makes his vision blur for a second.

“Or are you going to hold it in and fill my pussy?”

The way you say it, so casually filthy, sends a jolt of arousal through him. He bites down hard on his lip, every muscle in his body tightening. You’ve always had a mouth on you, but this—this is something else entirely.

Your confidence, the way you’ve grown into yourself since being with him, sends a surge of pride through his chest. 

“Baby, I’m going to fuck you so full of my cum you’ll be tasting it for fucking weeks.”

Your breathless giggle is music to his ears, and when you lean in to kiss his cock, licking over the tip, his control shatters.

“C’mere,” he sneers, pulling you up into a heated kiss. His mouth is desperate, his teeth scraping against your lips. He adjusts, submerging himself back into the water, being mindful of the device, and pulling your back flush against his chest.

He angles the lens to capture the way your bodies press together, the steam from the water curling around you both. The viewfinder is flipped and shows your damp hair sticking to your face, his lips dragging over the curve of your neck.

“Look at how good we look,” he murmurs, his voice a low rasp against your ear as his hand palms your breast, squeezing roughly.

A smile splits your face, drunk on the taste of his cock and the alcohol. Slowly, you shift on your toes, bending forward just enough to tease him with the curve of your ass, playfully wiggling it as you rub his cock between your cheeks.

“Come fuck me, Javi.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathes, bringing the camera lower to capture the way the bubbles skim over the curve of your body. He smacks each cheek, the sound sharp against the steady hum of the jets, and you huff, arching even more.

When he pulls at the strings of your bikini bottoms, letting the fabric fall away, he curses under his breath. “Mierda,” he hisses, his hand kneading your supple flesh before gripping the base of his cock and slapping it against your skin. 

He can’t help but grin as he shows off for the camera.

When he slides himself along your slick folds, he groans, feeling how wet you are for him. “Damn, suckin’ me off gets you this turned on, nena?” he asks, breathless.

You let out a needy whimper, nodding as your hips push back against him.

He doesn’t make you wait, sinking into you with a grunt that’s half your name and half prayer. The way your walls clench around him, pulling him deeper, makes him swear under his breath as he sets a rhythm that sends water spilling over the edge of the tub.

“Oh, Javi, oh fuck!” Your voice is loud, shameless, and he loves every filthy syllable of it.

“You like that, huh?” he growls, slowing his thrusts to drag his cock out of you torturously slow, the tight suction of your pussy making him grit his teeth.

“Gorgeous fucking pussy doesn’t want to let me go,” he mutters, angling the camera to capture the way your body takes him so perfectly, the wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you echoing around you.

He licks his lips, the phantom taste of your tangy sweetness haunting them, and the thought of you spread out while he loses himself in eating you out burns through him like fire.

The way you whimper in protest when he pulls out is enough to make him consider sinking back into your tight, sopping heat, but he reins himself in. Instead, his hand comes down on your ass, the sharp crack echoing in the chilled night air.

“None of that. Let’s move this party inside. I need to taste you.”

You bite your lip, shivering from the combination of his words and the cold air biting at your damp skin. 

Both of you are dripping water as you climb out of the hot tub, the biting chill of the night air wraps around you, sending goosebumps racing across your skin.

Javier notices, of course he does, and he drags his hands over your arms, a fleeting attempt at warming you before snagging the nearest towel.

“C’mere, nena,” he mutters, pulling you close. The towel is large, but his hands are clumsy as he rubs it over your body. The motion is both tender and hurried, his fingers lingering on the curves of your hips, your nice tits, and the slick heat between your thighs. “Can’t have you catching a cold now, can we?”

You giggle, your teeth chattering as you take the camera from him as he brings you inside. You stumble over the threshold, recording every imperfect second.

The contrast between the icy air outside and the inviting heat of the cabin is immediate, the crackling fireplace casting a golden glow across the room.

Javier wastes no time, pulling you toward the plush rug in front of the flames. You lay on your back, taking a moment to admire your boyfriend.

He’s a masterpiece carved by desire, every part of him sculpted to make you ache.

You handle the camera in your hands, the viewfinder framing Javier like the sex god that he is. You’re practically purring as the lens lingers on his thighs and how they flex subtly when he shifts his weight.

The camera pans higher and you feel that insistent heartbeat at your pussy.

His cock stands heavy and proud, the firelight casting shadows along his delicious length and girth. He’s gorgeous—thick veins trailing up velvety skin, the head angry and eager to punch into your cunt, his balls heavy with the load he’s already promised to fill you full of.

Continuing your digital ascent, you capture the sharp planes of his torso, his golden-brown skin glowing in the warmth of the flames. His chest rises and falls with slow, steady breaths.

Finally, you settle the shot on his lips, looking plush under that sexy ass mustache. They have ruined you time and time again with words, kisses, and the way they dote on every part of you.

“He’s so fucking good at using those.” You whisper to the camera.

“You done admiring?” He asks with playful arrogance, as if he hadn’t been absolutely eating up every reaction you had given to the body he’s sculpted into a living, breathing fantasy

“Never.”

He leans down to kiss you, sticky precum brushing against your lower stomach. Slyly, he takes the device from your hands, now his turn to marvel at you.

His lips part slightly as he looks at you, the flames illuminating every curve and dip of your body, painting you in shades of gold and amber.

“Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You bite your lip, your cheeks heated under his gaze. Javier adjusts the angle, zooming in on the way your thighs press together, craving him again.

“Spread your legs for me, nena.”

You hesitate, suddenly shy under the intensity of his gaze, but he makes it impossible to deny him when he looks at you like this.

Slowly, you part your legs, exposing yourself to him fully.

“Goddamn,” Javier growls, his free hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, his calloused fingers trailing to where you’re still sticky with arousal from how he’d taken you outside. He uses his thumb to spread open one of your pussy lips, revealing your pretty cunt to the camera, his thumb pressing down on your clit, smearing your juices around.

“You know how perfect you are?” he asks, his voice low as he sets the camera down at the perfect angle to capture what he’s about to do next. “Every fucking inch of you drives me crazy.”

Javier leans over you, his lips trailing down your neck to the hollow between your breasts. His hands spread you open further, his breath hot against your skin as he settles himself between your thighs.

You shudder as his lips press against your inner thigh, sinewy fingers keeping you spread open so the camera gets a good view of his tongue doing what it does best between your legs.

The fire crackles beside you, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his mouth as he begins to devour you, his tongue and lips coaxing soft moans and gasps from your lips.

He doesn’t rush. He takes his time, savoring every sound you make, every tremble of your body. He pulls back briefly, some of your slick clinging to his lips, just long enough to grab the camera again, angling it to capture your flushed face and the way your body arches toward him before handing it over to you.

You almost drop it from how fucking lightheaded he’s left you, but manage to hold onto it, doing your best to record this handsome man going down on you.

“No one else gets to see you like this. Just me.”

The possessiveness in Javier’s voice is laced with an edge of jealousy, a dark fire stoked by earlier moments that now claw their way back into his mind. Flashes of other men crowding you, eyeing what’s his, swirl in his thoughts, blending with images of you and Frankie tangled in your sheets. 

The thought ignites a growl deep in his chest. His fingers grip your thigh harder, nails biting into your skin as he buries his face between your legs with renewed intensity. 

His tongue swirls and flicks over your clit, his lips sealing around the swollen nub with a pressure that makes your toes curl.

He’s punishing those images, driving them out by proving how thoroughly you belong to him.

“Just you, Javi, no one else,” you gasp, your back arching off the plush rug. With one hand on the device, your other lets its fingers twist into his thick brown hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt against your slick heat.

The vibrations ripple through you, sending you closer to the edge, your walls fluttering with anticipation.

You’re close—he feels it in the way your thighs shake, the way your breath stutters. Determined to pull you over the edge, he buries his face deeper, his nose nudging your clit as he shakes his head back and forth.

The scratch of his mustache against your tender flesh only intensifies your pleasure, and when his lips seal around your swollen clit and he sucks harshly, it shatters you.

“Oh my God, Javier!” you scream, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash through you, the camera shaking violently in your hand. The heat of the nearby flames amplifies your euphoria, sweat beading on your skin.

“Pussy tastes so fuckin’ delicious,” his voice is muffled but heavy with want. Javier has always loved going down on women, but there’s something about you—your taste, your scent, the way your body responds to him—that drives him wild. 

His cock thrums painfully, desperate for relief. He’s grinding against the rug without even realizing it, his need to claim you consuming every thought.

Even as your thighs twitch in the aftermath of your orgasm, he laps up every drop, greedy for more, his tongue sweeping over your oversensitive flesh until you’re gasping and squirming beneath him. Only then does he pull away, his lips and chin glistening with your essence.

Taking the camera again, he points it at you, capturing the sight of you sprawled across the rug, utterly spent. Your chest rises and falls, your eyes half-lidded with bliss.

“¿Todo bien, nena?” he asks, gingerly yet smugly satisfied.

“Mhm,” you hum, stretching languidly under his touch. “Just need a minute.”

He strokes your face, his thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips and you kiss the rough pad softly. 

Wordlessly, he adjusts the lens, zooming in on your face, capturing the blissed-out expression that is all his doing. It makes him want to kiss you, so he does, bending down, his lips brushing yours in a smoldering liplock.

“Such a good kisser, Javi.” You chase after his mouth when he pulls away, bringing your hands up to cradle his face to keep your lips on his. He lets you, lost in the feeling in the same way you are, that poor camera idly recording the blur of your moving heads.

When he does finally pull back, he moves with purpose, setting up the camera on the coffee table, his fingers steady despite the heat thrumming through his veins.

He flips the viewfinder to showcase the two of you, positioning it to capture the perfect scene: the crackling fireplace, the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree, the snow-kissed mountains visible through the frosted window, bathed in the silver moonlight.

The setup is a masterpiece, the kind of shot you’d call pure art. You’ve teased him about this before—how his talent for making things look so effortlessly beautiful extends even to his most smutty creations.

When Javier returns to you, his breath hitches. You’re stretched out on the rug, naked as the day you were born, your skin kissed by the soft illumination of the Christmas lights. You look up at him with a cheeky grin that makes his chest tighten and his cock throb.

“Hey, baby,” you say, your voice teasing yet soft, inviting him closer.

“Hi,” he murmurs back, his own lips shifting into a smile that mirrors yours.

He lowers himself to you again, cradling your jaw as if you’re the most delicate, precious thing he’s ever touched. “You havin’ fun?”

“So much,” you reply with a laugh that’s pure music to his ears. Your teeth catch his lower lip playfully, and your hand sneaks down between you, wrapping around his pulsating cock. The sound he lets out vibrates against your lips, and the look in his eyes is molten.

“Now fuck me full, Javi,” you whisper, your words bold and needy, a demand he’s more than eager to fulfill.

His hands are on you in an instant, pulling you up and shifting your body until you’re perfectly centered in the shot.

You look like a vision, his personal angel.

Javier kneels behind you, his strong hands gripping your hips, the pads of his fingers pressing into your skin just hard enough to leave marks he’ll admire later.

His cock teases your entrance, the slick head gliding over your swollen clit, and you mewl, your body quivering with anticipation. He watches, mesmerized, as you arch your back for him, offering yourself up completely.

Slowly, he sinks into you, savoring the way your walls envelop him, the tightness making him hiss through his teeth.

His grip tightens as he thrusts deeper, the stretch and fullness making you sob. The sound shoots straight to his cock, and he growls low in his throat, his hips snapping forward, burying himself to the hilt.

Your cries rise in pitch as he sets a brutal rhythm, each powerful thrust sending your tits bouncing uncontrollably. 

Javier leans back slightly, angling his body just so, ensuring the camera captures every detail—the way your pussy clenches and drips around his cock and how obscene the sounds of your bodies joining echo in the cabin.

His nose skims the side of your neck, his breath hot against your damp skin. He bites down gently, soothing the sting with his tongue, before whispering filthy promises into your ear, each word making you tighten around him.

“You were made for me,” he declares, “This tight pussy, fuck, no one else gets to feel how perfect she is. Just me. All mine.”

Something about being inside you triggers this untamed passion in him, an insatiable desire that no amount of good fucking can quench.

He’s relentless, taking and taking, chasing the pleasure that only you can give him. The thought of you creaming all over his cock, screaming his name, and begging for more while teetering on the edge of oblivion has him thrusting harder, deeper.

No one else has ever felt like this—like home and sin wrapped into one. Fucking you is better than anything he’s ever known.

It doesn’t even have to be elaborate or kinky—though he certainly doesn’t mind. He loves it all, from nights like this to the slow, sleepy mornings when he wakes you by sliding his cock into your warm, welcoming body, loving the way you melt against him with soft sighs.

Now, though, it’s anything but slow. His hips piston up into you, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust, and you’re crying out his name like a prayer.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, his voice rough in your ear as his pace falters momentarily.

You’re too lost in the haze of bliss to respond right away, your whimpers spilling from your lips in broken waves. Javier slows, grinding into you, letting the friction bring you back to him.

“I said, do you trust me?” he repeats, his tone firmer.

“Y-Yes,” you stammer, your voice a breathy plea as your pussy clenches around him.

A dark, satisfied smirk spreads across his face. “I’m gonna put you in a headlock, baby. Keep you right where I want you while I tear this pretty pussy up like I promised.”

You mewl, the sound making his cock twitch inside you. He nips at your ear, his breath fanning against your skin. 

“If it’s too much, tap me three times, okay?” His voice softens slightly, a thread of tenderness weaving through the raw desire.

You nod eagerly, your voice trembling as you beg, “Please, Javi.”

When you turn your head to look at him, the vulnerability and trust in your eyes make his heart clench. Fuck, I love her.

Without another word, he surges forward to kiss you messily, his lips claiming yours as he loops a strong arm around your neck. The position pulls you flush against his chest, your back arching as he adjusts his knees, locking you into place.

“I’ll start slow, get that pussy purring,” he teases, his breath hot against your ear.

His cock drags against your walls, unhurried, and you shiver as he finds that spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

“Right there,” you gasp, your voice hitching as your body tightens around him.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he groans, his arm tightening just enough to make your head swim in the most delicious way.

With a growl, he picks up his pace, pounding into you with enough force to get your body jolting against his. The rug beneath you rubs raw at your knees, each wet slap of his cock driving into your soaked pussy sending ripples of heat through your core.

Javier watches the way your body reacts to him from the viewfinder across the way. “That’s it, nena,” he clenches his teeth, his own release building as he claims you over and over again. His large fingers move from your hips down to toy with your clit. “Take it all. Take every. Fucking. Inch.”

Your hands shoot up to grip Javier’s arm, manicured nails biting into his flesh and leaving streaks of angry red lines down the muscled curve. The sting only fuels him, a feral satisfaction curling in his chest as you claw desperately for purchase.

Drool slips from the corner of your lips, pooling in the crease of his elbow, and he can’t help but smile smugly at the camera, his ego swelling alongside his cock. He’s unraveling you, making you fall apart so completely that you’re losing control—going stupid for his cock.

The slick sound of your bodies meeting fills the room, drowning out the crackling fire. You’re soaking him, your pussy so wet that the coarse hairs at the base of his cock are drenched, shining with your mixed juices.

He tightens his grip around your throat, your voice reduced to breathy, incoherent gasps. The pressure is perfect, the lack of air sending your senses spiraling as he pounds into you with reckless abandon, fingers relentless against your puffy clit.

It’s enough to coax your submission further, and he feels your slick walls start to quake around him. Your pussy flutters, gripping him so tightly it takes everything in him not to lose control right then.

“I—” You try to speak, but your words dissolve into an unintelligible cry as your orgasm slaps you right in the face.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Javier growls, his voice low and rough. He drives into you harder, faster, the head of his cock hitting that devastatingly deep spot that only he has been able to touch. Your eyes roll back, your cunt clenching him like a vice.

Your body trembles on the edge of euphoria and exhaustion. You lift your hand to tap out, but before you can, his own climax barrels through him like an angry bull.

His hips snap wildly as he spills into you. Hot spurts of cum fill you, thick and endless, his curses mixing with your cries as your body trembles uncontrollably.

The second he loosens his hold on your throat, air rushes back into your lungs, and with it comes a blinding, second wave of pleasure.

“Ah—fuck me!” you yelp, your body spasming as an intense pressure bursts inside you. Liquid heat sprays out of your pussy, soaking his lap and the carpet beneath you.

You fall forward, about to collapse, but Javier catches you, holding you close for a moment, his own body shaking as he fights to catch his breath.

The sticky warmth of your release and his cum pooling between your thighs has him grinning like a devil. “Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he pants, pulling out slowly, hissing at the tight drag of your walls around him.

Gently, he lowers you forward, your cheek pressing against the soft carpet. He goes to caress you, but your body twitches, still caught in the aftershocks, and you let out a weak, incoherent whimper.

“Too much. Don’t touch me. Don’t even look at me.”

He laughs, a low, heady sound, still lightheaded from his own climax. “Whatever you say,” he mutters, reaching for the camera. He adjusts the viewfinder, pointing it at your wrecked body bent over in front of the fireplace.

“C’mon, nena,” he coaxes. “Roll over for me. Gotta get a good shot of my cum dripping out of this perfect pussy.”

His vulgar words make your clit tingle but you know you can’t go for another round right now. Or any time soon, really.

With a soft huff, you roll onto your back, spreading your legs wide despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs. Tears of pleasure still cloud your vision as you gaze up at him, your chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

The camera captures everything—your swollen, glistening folds, the obscene trail of his cum trickling from your hole, evidence of how thoroughly he’s claimed you.

A lewd gurgling sound fills the air as the thick, creamy fluid bubbles out of you, sliding down to smear across your puckered entrance.

Javier is transfixed, his cock twitching despite his exhaustion. The urge to stuff his spend back into you with his fingers is almost overwhelming, but he reels it in. You’ve tapped out, and he respects your limits.

“So fucking hot,” he murmurs, his voice reverent as he watches. “Blow a kiss to the camera, baby.”

You smile weakly, giggling through your exhaustion. Licking your lips slowly, you pucker up and blow a kiss toward the lens, finishing with a playful, fucked-out wink.

The action is pure lust and sweetness combined, and he lets out a satisfied hum before finally stopping the recording.

“My girl, you did so well,” Javier murmurs, his voice soft and full of admiration. His praise seeps into your skin like balm, soothing you with the warmth of his presence.

He reaches for the couch pillows and the throw blanket, crafting a cozy nest right there on the floor by the fire. 

He doesn’t care that you’re both sticky with sweat and the remnants of your passion— all he cares about is making you comfortable.

Feeling the fog of pleasure begin to lift, you roll onto your side, your body aching in the best way possible, reaching for him instinctively.

Javi doesn’t hesitate; he scoops you up with ease, settling you on his chest. Your head rests between his pecs, rising and falling with his steady breaths. His calloused fingers trail up and down your naked back, a calming rhythm that lulls you into serenity.

“I can’t believe I squirted,” you admit, your voice muffled against his chest. “Isn’t that…you know…piss? Shouldn’t we be in the shower right now?”

The question pulls a laugh from deep within him, a sound so rich and full that it vibrates through his chest and onto your cheek. “Eh,” he says, shrugging lazily. “Doesn’t really matter. What I do know is that I’m so damn proud of you, baby. I know the tape is goin’ to be fuckin’ gold.” His tone drips with adoration, each word laced with pride.

“But if it makes you feel better, we can always get back in the tub.”

You hum in response, nuzzling into the curve of his chest and letting your lips wander, pressing soft kisses over his golden skin. “That sounds really good, actually,” you murmur, your voice still laced with a dreamy haze. “But I don’t think I can walk.”

He lets out another laugh, his arms tightening around you. “I can carry you,” he offers, ever the gentleman, even now.

“Or,” you counter with a playful grin, trailing kisses up to his collarbone and then his jaw, “we could stay here, take a quick power nap by the fire, and then…” You pause, your lips brushing his as you whisper, “I can ride you.”

Javier groans, the sound low and full of mock exasperation. “You’re definitely trying to kill me.”

Your laughter mingles with his as you capture his lips in a kiss, slow and unhurried. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you entwined by the warmth of the fire. His hands cradle your face as yours slide into his hair, fingers weaving through the dark strands.

The kiss deepens, turning languid and exploratory, a perfect blend of tenderness and desire.

With you in his arms, he feels whole, like every piece of you was made to fit into his. Time seems to stretch and stop, the crackling fire and the soft hum of your breaths the only soundtrack to your moment.

Here, in his embrace, you’re not just his lover; you’re his everything.

i have a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @almostempty . @thundermartini . @auteurdelabre . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @yourmommycallsmemommy . @larascorneroftheworld . @letsmeetintheafterglow . @lunatiquess . @myownwholewildworld . @pasc4lfuzz . @sjc7542 . @almostfoxglove . @shy-taylorsversion . @theredvelvetbitch . @xxbadchoicexx . @lumpatto . @haylee-e . @guelyury . @doblasftcisco . @ashhlsstuff . @kluvspedro . @goodvibesonly421 .

[slvtforoldermen]

Birthday Morning

Masterlist

Summary: Javi’s birthday morning is always calm, considering it’s the only time of the day he’ll get this tranquility

Pairing: Retired!Dad!Javier Peña x Fem!Mum!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: suggestiveness ;) gasp! Mads not writing age gap for once, oh my goodness!

Word Count: 436 (only a drabble I’m sorry)

A/N: My second one shot for Pedro’s birthday, a gift from me to you to spark our love for him 🩷 I love you all my loves

The light through the blinds from the sun wakes Javi from his dreamless sleep, it warms his back as his eyes flutter open. He rolls over but the sight of his wife isn’t there, just empty sheets. So Javier did what any man would do: he laid there for a few minutes, waking himself up, before pulling on a pair of sweatpants, that were strewn on the floor from the night before, and trundled his way around the house to find his wife.

And the kitchen was where he found you. Multiple pans sizzling and the coffee machine boiling. You’re humming a sweet tune as he wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face in your shoulder.

“You smell good,” He murmurs, placing a kiss in the crook of your neck.

“Really, I haven’t showered yet?” You smile and he chuckles.

“Where are the kids?” He asks, noticing the unfamiliar quietness of the house.

“School, I took them in a few hours ago,” You explain. “Thought you could use the sleep.” Javi chuckles again. “Then I got back and thought I should make you some breakfast.”

“Well, who needs breakfast when I’ve got you…” Javi smirks, the bristles of his moustache tickling your neck, both this sensation and his words cause you to shiver.

“Well you’ve got from now until tomorrow morning to have me,” You chuckle. “So why don’t you wait five minutes?”

“Tomorrow morning?”

“I managed to convince your dad to take the kids for tonight, but if you get tired of me, then I have no problem going and grabbing them,” You smile cheekily, Javi laughs.

“When could I ever get tired of you?” He asks, placing his hands on the back of your thighs. “They sore?”

“A little… I had trouble walking this morning,” You chuckle. “Had to lie to Bailey’s teacher that I had been riding a bike for too long—“

“Should change my name to bike.”

“Yeah,” You scoff. “Then Bailey looked up at me with suspicious eyes and said ‘But mama, you don’t have a bike?’ And then ran off to go play with their friends, so I turned around and said, ‘Better get home to bike, it’s his birthday’.”

“Well, drop off will be extremely awkward tomorrow,” Javi chuckles as he takes the coffee mug from the counter and sips. “Javier ‘Bike’ Peña.” You let out a laugh and kiss his cheek.

“How do you feel, now that you’re old?”

“Oof, you’re not that far behind me,” He smiles.

“Yet, still not 49,” You grin before kissing him softly, you hear the coffee mug being placed back on the counter before feeling his hands slip round your waist. You pull away jut for a second to whisper against his lips. “Happy birthday Javi.”

[ravensmadreads]

Unhinged totally unasked for thots about Riding Pedro Boys

Authors Note: So this came from me chugging entirely too many energy drinks and then projectile vomiting in Taylors inbox. I'd like to warn you that: English isn't my first language, I have never written smut before, I'm not a real writer, and also I'm trash goblin levels of unhinged about this. That being said; Enjoy and uhh. Forgive me Fandom

JAVIER PEÑA

Javier Pena doesn't let you do it.

Don't @ me LISTEN! (YES I STARTED OFF WITH A CONTROVERSIAL THOT FUCKING BITE ME.)

That man does not have the time, or the patience, or the good sense (the sense is at the other end) to let you ride. He needs the control okay? And sometimes it's not even about the control ! It's the frustration. It piles and piles and piles until he snaps. He needs to do. He will bend you over and work his frustration away until he has had enough and you let him because he needs it. (And lets be real he makes it worth your while every single time)

BUT. When he finally fucking retires, and gets a ranch, and breaths air not tinged with the smells of death, cigarettes and guns for the first time in however many years, and maybe drinks some fucking water, he takes you out on a date. He fumbles through the entire thing, panics because he thinks he blew it, still manages to get you home, gets ridden for the first time in like 6 years, and can't walk straight for an entire day and stammers every time someone asks him why.

JAVIER GUTIERREZ

Javi G loves it. He loves watching you. Gets all puppy dog wide eyed (remember the pool scene face??? Thats it.) and you have to really focus because his look of straight up wonder and awe and bright eyed eagerness makes you want to cry. He's panting like he's running a marathon, running his big hands EVERYWHERE he can reach. He makes you feel worshipped and adored and so very very loved. Thanks you after. For being so amazing, and so wonderful to him, and thanks the universe that he found you. Cause he's sap. You definitely cry after.

JOEL MILLER

(Watch me be controversial again) Joel is fucking tired okay? He has old man bones and creaky joints and his back is achy. Patrol was agony, Jesse wouldn't shut up the entire time, and Tommy was giving him shit, and he has no energy to drill anyone into the mattress (as much as we all want him to). He's just plain tired. He likes you on top. Likes it slow (like a roast chicken on a sunday slow). Enjoys the gradual build up, likes to lean back, watch with half open eyes as you take your time. Wants to indulge in something beautiful at the end of the world, and that something is you. He makes sexy grunting noises, mutters a whole lot of praise ~and filth~ and just y'know. Savours it. 🫠🫠🫠 savours you. 🫠

DIETER BRAVO

Dieter is a maniac. (Leave him alone he has adhd!!) He can't still still for the life of him so you best believe he changes positions 6 times and the only way you're getting to ride is if you're also putting some weight elsewhere. To hold him down! You squeeze his neck once and he MELTS. INSTANTLY. Loses all sense. Starts babbling and whimpering and making extremely pathetic noises. Will definitely buck up and whine. PRAISES YOU. BEGGING. LOUD NOISES.

MAX PHILLIPS

Max is a heathen. He just likes watching you bounce. That's it. That's the post :p

MARCUS PIKE

Marcus P is a romantic. He will be doing the whole "lean forward and try to get kisses in between" while also "moaning and maintaining eye contact" and he's holding you so tight , squeezing your sides and also muttering declarations of love. About how he wants a life with you, and a family, and a home, and a future. How he's going to "make you so happy baby, I promise I will, I swear to you". Doesn't let you off for from on top of him for atleast a half hour after; kissing all over your face and rubbing your back and petting your hair "I meant all of it sweetheart. I want all of you." shsbzgwgsvsg ilovehimsomuch and I've only ever seen gifsets of this man what is wrong with me

MARCUS MORENO

Marcus M is A MENACE. He wears his stupid glasses, and has his stupid shirt off, while he does stupid taxes/meeting plans in bed. You keep throwing side glances and getting increasingly wound up and he just has this gentle smirk but he's mostly ignoring you. You sidle up to him and maybe start kissing his jaw, laying gentle pecks down his neck, and he's still fukcungh working "Baby. I need to finish this. I'm sorry, you need to wait." But that smirk is still there and it's driving you crazy and maybe you keep kissing until you reach his *coughs* and then you're working on getting him interested. You can still hear the fucking pen scratching though and so you go deeper, and he raises an eyebrow. "be good now honey" You're settling in his lap and he has you sitting there until he has finished his paperwork with you whimpering and trying not to squirm because you want to be good you really do and you know he'll make it so much better but he feels so good and when he's finally finally done you get to move but you're so wound up you can't pull yourself together enough to find a rhythm and you're nearly in tears and he has to grip your sides and murmur instructions in your ear and help you until you're satisfied and just when you think he's done, and about to flip you over, he adjusts his grip and starts moving from underneath you until you're crying and he's finished ~which doesnt happen until you've come 2 more times~

DAVE YORK

Dave. Oh my gosh Dave. Dave is a strict dom if ever there was one. With him it's a punishment. He'll tell you to hold off until he's done which is freaking impossible with how deep he gets, and how he likes to warm up his hands on your butt while you're trying desperately to hold onto that last thread of control. He is muttering absolute filth, holding your arms behind your back with one hand while the other is either laying smack after smack or rubbing you furiously all the while he's got the smuggest look. "Don't you dare baby. Be a good girl now. Listen and obey for once". But you can't because he's not fair and he knows it. And when you do finally fall apart he's clenching his teeth trying to hold back himself and his hands are holding you up as you gasp his name like it's the only word you know. He's running his hands down your back and kissing you softly and helping you catch your breath and when you finally get your heart to stop pounding and look up at him, he's watching you with this dangerously soft smile and he goes "oh you're in for it now aren't you honey?" and kisses your forehead while you try not to whimper.

FRANKIE MORALES

Frankie is a soft boy. He loves it. Craves it. He loves giving up control. Wants you to tie him up and have your way until he has no thoughts left in that pretty little head. He is swearing like an absolute sailor the entire time, calling you ma'am, begging to be released so he can kiss you and touch you, absolutely nearly breaks the head board once he was so desperate. Wants to be edged but also is the biggest WIMP about it. Will pout and swear and beg and plead but then want you to deny him again. Will definitely be mumbling absolute nonsense once you're done. Needs all the aftercare. Blushes pink when he gets it. Wraps himself around you like a HUGE koala bear after. ~and returns the edging favour 3 times over when he gets in his Captain Francisco Morales Mood~

JACK DANIELS

BONUS TWO I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT and tumblr won't let me put gifs for:

Jack makes every single cowboy joke known to man. You have to put your hand on his mouth to get him to shut the hell up. His eyes get all glassy when you do. He puts his hat on top of your head and busies himself in your neck (dual benefits: A. He shuts up and B. HICKIES) will definitely drag you on top of him in his Bronco (he likes to show off) will pull up on the side of the road almost 70% of the times you drive together. Bites you over your clothes. Loves the way you grab desperately at this leather jacket. Definitely makes you bend over and 'clean up the mess sugar' before driving like the hounds of hell are after him all the way back home and doing it all over again because "we gotta make you a mama now love"

PERO TOVAR

Pero got married after he came back and retired as a sell sword. His wife is a soft but sassy thing who's a little (read: not at all, she returns his snark twice over) intimidated by him but also thinks he's a good man because he saved her village from raiders. She has seen him grumble and snark at but then also share his food with the orphans who works at the village inn. She's inexperienced (let me live my victorian life) and he doesn't really think he deserves her but also he's not so much an idiot to say no to someone like her. She's the village "healer" and he met her when he got stabbed by one of the raiders (arm wound: not serious.) He has to teach her. She gets shy and flustered, which is a total 180 from her sassy self, and Pero loves it. She makes the most amazing sounds that have him thinking that maybe he did something right in his life to end up in her arms. She wants to please her new husband and asks her married friends for advice and they tell her about this new position. So she asks him, stuttering and tripping over words, if she could try something she heard about? From a friend? She straddles him and Pero loses his mind. He's closing his eyes and clenching his jaw so hard and she's whimpering in the most DELICIOUS way and he's trying so hard to hold back and let her take her pace and she's so worried "am I not doing it right?" Pero has to take 3 deep breaths before he's centred enough to answer and then he helps her. Puts his hands on her hips to guide her. Puts one of her hands on his shoulder "steady now pequenita" and puts the other low on her belly and presses in so she can feel him. Loves the way she cries out. Bends forward to leave little marks everywhere he can reach. She's scrambling at his chest, leaving nail marks he loves, and finally grabbing his hair and pulling until he groans. And when they're both done and sated and sweaty he kisses her, looks her in the eye and winks. "I'm going to have to go thank your friend now, mi esposa."

DIN DJARIN

Din and you dont have time. The razor crest is finally in hyperspace, you got shot at for the 50th time in 2 weeks, (because Murphys Law seems to be the only law Mando never breaks), you're exhausted, sweaty, and the giggly green monster of chaos only made you chase him down from the top of a weapons cabinet twice before he finally decided to take a nap. You're frustrated, and in desperate need of a shower, and a nap, but also you can't get the image of Mando fighting out of your head. Before you know it, the hormones have taken over and you're attacking him in the pilot seat. The bucket is off (I refuse to look at my own reflection in the tin cans helmet while we do the do), he's got you arching into him, your shirt is half torn from the top because Din refuses to wait for "so many fucking buttons Meshla" the gloved hand is squeezing the back of your neck, his mouth is on your chest, his other hand (you only managed to get one glove off) is splayed out on your back. You're riding him like you're trying to break him and his thigh holster? thing (do i look like i can figure out what they're called?) is digging marks into your skin but you're too turned on to care. It's frantic, it's messy, you're PRAYING the tiny green menace stays asleep as you do your best to muffle your sounds. The refresher isn't big enough for a round two, (you still do your best), and your legs feel like jelly, when you finally pass out; curled up on top of the human space heater while he hums Mando'a in your ear.

*****

TAGGING: @chronically-ghosted (you are a menace but ily)

@fuckyeahdindjarin (here I go trying that writing thing again, stop me pls)

[kedsandtubesocks]

WILD RIDE: a writing challenge

So I wrote my first ever multi fic series Let’s Rodeo at the beginning of this year & to celebrate i’d thought I would finally host my first ever writing challenge to welcome the new year!

So here’s how the challenge will work…

- The boys will be divided into 2 groups: one with prompts occurring in modern day & the other set in old west/western times

- 14 slots: once a prompt is taken it’s gone… so be sure to grab the one you want!

- Each prompt has a moodboard attached (which you can use as inspiration or just enjoy for the vibes)

↳ So what’s the extra wild ride part of this prompt?

✨send in an ask with the Pedro boy of your choice & a number between 1-20 & I’ll reply with a trope to add to your fic! If you’re not feeling too wild about the trope you got, then no worries, ride on & write what feels right!

⚠️ Rules:

Even if you don’t decide to use the trope given - please stay within the prompt’s boundary & given time frame each has been placed in

500 word minimum - other than that you’re free to write to your hearts content!

Tag me & use the hashtag #kedsandtubesocks wild ride so I can update the masterlist

Deadline: February 28 [of course if you need to send it in after just let me know …we can always use more cowboy fics at any time]

🌾 MODERN DAY PROMPTS

✦ Marcus Moreno: Rodeo Rescue @morallyinept #4 [star-crossed lovers]

✦ Dieter Bravo: Movie Cowboy @chaotic-mystery #15 [meet ugly]

✦ Marcus Pike: Cowboy Themed Party @secretelephanttattoo #8 [workplace romance]

✦ Joel Miller: Retired Rodeo Cowboy - @pedgito #12 [forbidden love]

✦ Jack Daniels: Honky Tonk Cowboy Bar Owner @jennaispunk #5 [childhood friends]

✦ Oberyn Martel: Spanish Ranch Owner @chronically-ghosted #7 [fake dating/relationship]

✦ Pero Tovar: Rodeo Bull Rider @perotovar #16 [rivals/competition]

🌵 OLD WEST ERA PROMPTS

✦ Javier Peña: Rancher @savedyounine #11 [love at first sight]

✦ Tim Rockford: US Marshal @crowandmousewritingco #2 [only one bed]

✦ Ezra: Corrupt Sheriff @beefrobeefcal #3 [lovers to enemies]

✦ Javier Gutierrez: Bandit/Outlaw @bluestar22x #8 [workplace romance]

✦ Dave York: Hired Gun [Mercenary]

✦ Frankie Morales: Solider turned Cowboy @hauntedhowlett #17 [secret dating]

✦ Din Djarin: Hired Gun [Bodyguard] @corazondebeskar #1 [enemies to lovers]

Here’s to the creations & wonders, the wild rides, you will write and take us on! Can’t wait to see all the magic y’all create!

If you have any questions please message me! Also I can’t thank @perotovar & @pedgito for inspiring me, cheering me on, to finally host this - this wouldn’t be here without them 💛

tagging some yeehawin’ cute mutuals that might be curious about this rodeo (if not, no worries!)

@hauntedhowlett @burntheedges @saradika @nothoughtsjustmeds @jolapeno @tonysopranosrobe

@nothoughtsjustmeds @almostfoxglove @amanitacowboy @sp00kymulderr @chronically-ghosted @beardedjoel

@morallyinept @schnarfer @lowlights @julesonrecord @quinnnfabrgay-writes @guiltyasdave @secretelephanttattoo

@ghotifishreads @corazondebeskar @chaotic-mystery @seventeenpins @yxtkiwiyxt

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓮𝓷: 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝔂𝓲𝓷’ 𝓾𝓹 𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷’

Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: If he thought giving into his urges and fucking you at his embassy’s end of year dinner would lend him any relief from your antics, Agent Peña was wildly mistaken. Day two of your weekend getaway brings you the realisation that you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, reader is the ambassadors daughter, thicc age gap [reader is in her early 20s Javi is in his 40s], petnames, cigarette smoking, alcohol consumption, minor drug use, sex under the influence [minor dubcon], daddy issues ™, mommy issues ™, mean!brat tamer!dom!Javi, brat!reader, daddy kink, size kink [javi is describe to be bigger than the reader], degradation, playing footsie, use of clothes as restraints, semi public sex, fucking in the hot tub, thigh riding, one spank, a few slaps [I had to], phone sex, cream pie, unprotected P in V [don’t do it!!]. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶

Word count: 10.4k

A/N: Part two of the three part getaway series. A long time coming so I hope you enjoy. Things are messier and nastier and only get worse from here. 🫶🐝💗

🍓Part One 🍓Masterlist

Carmen, Carmen

Staying up 'til morning

You twirled the phone cord between your fingers. 

After getting back to your room the previous night you cleaned up and slipped into bed– exhausted and content. The smell of Javier's clary sage and cedarwood perfume insisted on clinging to your skin, despite the fact that you’d showered, and lulled you into a heavy slumber– the cold sheets swallowing you and sending you to dream land. 

The night went mostly peacefully, considering your mind endlessly conjured up images of Agent Peña trying to explain why he missed nearly half of his embassy’s dinner party when all he was required to do was escort you outside for some fresh air. 

As you lay in bed he was likely in front of your father, lying through his teeth about the fact that you weren’t feeling too well, that you had a headache and decided to retire to your room. Pretending like he hadn’t been fingering you under the dinner table, like you didn’t clean his cum off your dress and face minutes ago. The thought made your head spin, and in the best way. The infamous Javier Peña, the man who didn’t let anyone or anything control him– unable to control himself. 

You fell asleep that night feeling like a winner, undefeated, but that was only until you could once again feel the ghost of his touch on your inner thigh, the prickle of his stubble on your cheek, and the brush of his lips against your jaw. The man was haunting you. 

The ac was on full blast, but the room felt hot and muggy. Somewhere along the line you’d tossed your sheets off your body, still asleep but not oblivious to the tension building in your core. 

Images of Agent Peña projected in your closed eyes like a stuttery film reel. In your sleep these images were brief, but vivid, and distinct, and some of them unreal and dream-like. Your imagination took flight, and it wasn’t long before you could almost feel him against you, and his hands were roaming your body, and he was grabbing your hips, and he leaned down and kissed you roughly. You felt his breath on your neck, and his hand slipped between your aching thighs, and – 

You woke up in a cold sweat, and you were sure you could feel your heartbeat caught in your throat. The room around you felt small, and your chest rose and fell uncomfortably as you hit the bed, with uninterrupted force, once again. Shifting about uneasily you could only hope your little indulgent wet dream was an outlier. 

You glanced at the clock beside you. 

6:00 AM 

And that’s how you ended up where you were– scrambling for the phone on the bedside table and impulsively trying to Sherlock Holmes your way into getting Javier’s room number. 

When you first heard his name being called across the reception the previous day you remembered seeing someone toss him the keys to his room. He carried them with him everywhere. Even when he sneaked up beside you back at the restaurant. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing your brain to reconstruct the image of his keychain dangling from his fingertips, trying to form out the room numbers carved into the wood from the blur. You sat there for a good forty seconds, praying for a bible level miracle until from the fuzzy memory you made out the numbers. 

736 

Sure, your plan was far from foolproof, but worst case scenario you’d wake up Noonan or something. There wasn't much to lose. So you twirled the cord between your fingers and listened to the ring of the call. 

The receiver clicked as it was picked up from the other end, a gruff half sleepy voice coming through the static. 

“Buenos días?” you rolled your eyes, even on vacation the man couldn't help but answer so formally. He sounded half dead as is. 

“Relax Agent Peña, you're on vacation.” 

“Jesus Christ-” He breathed in an exasperated sigh, in that half questioning half irate tone. “You sound a little tired. I hope I'm not disturbing you, Agent.” Despite being playful your voice was hushed and thick with sleep. So was his. 

“No no , not at all-” he sighed heavily, tone monotonous, and you heard him fiddle with the phone cord. “I was just running laps around my room.” You rolled your eyes. 

“What's got you up so early babydoll?” The fact that he didn't know immediately why you’d called him at the crack of dawn was beyond you. Did he think you wanted to have a little chit chat? You decided not to mention it. 

“Dreamt ‘about you.” letting out a heavy breath, you sank back against your pillows, letting the sheets swallow you. “‘S that so?” Your words seemed to peak his interest, and despite only having known him a couple of hours you’d figured out there was nothing more effective at accomplishing that task than stroking his ego. 

“Couldn't sleep.” He couldn’t see it, but you pouted nonetheless. 

“Oh yeah? And ya had to wake me up early in the damn morning?” He wasn’t as annoyed as he was a moment ago. His voice was lower, deeper, softer. Something told you he didn't mind. 

“Need you.” 

He chuckled lowly. “Already, babydoll? Barely been ten hours.” The smugness seeped through the phone, you could practically see his cocky smile. If you weren't as desperate as you were you wouldn’t have let it pass. 

“Couldn’t stop thinkin ‘bout you.” It was difficult not to give in quick and easy. You wanted to make him work for it, but that plan only lasted till you heard that voice of his drip like honey through the phone. 

“Thinkin’ bout what?” You heard his sheets shuffle delicately as he presumably propped himself up. That demanding voice had you clenching your thighs together as the ache built. So you relented, telling him what he wanted to hear. It was true either way. “Your cock. How you made me cum.”

“Yeah?” It wasn’t a question. “Thinking about how daddy stretched you open?” The ‘yes’ that escaped your lips was broken, mostly thanks to what he called himself. 

“Insatiable aren't ya babydoll?” His subtle accent seemed a lot more pronounced so early in the morning. Not quite a southern drawl, but flaunting the Texas charm nonetheless. You hummed and fiddled with the hem of your sleepshirt in an attempt to occupy your hands. 

“Yeah, and now you’re all wet ‘n achy?” It was more a statement than a question, one dripping with faux sympathy. You whined another quiet yes, running your cool palms across your inner thighs. It was difficult to relent to his mocking, but you were dripping for him, and you needed the release. 

“Poor little thing…you touch that pretty pussy thinkin’ of how I made y’a come on my cock?” 

“Nuh uh. Didn’t touch.” You said proudly. And you were proud– of your self restraint, not quite proud of how desperate you sounded. He hummed and sounded equally proud. Maybe even a little impressed. He sucked in a breath, and you heard his sheets crinkle again. 

“my cute lil pussy’s drippin all over those panties?” he didn't let you respond. “Or should I ask if my little slut’s even wearing any?” My little slut. He was right. He practically owned your body. You couldn’t even sleep without thinking of him. 

As for your panties, you were, but you wished you werent. You were sure the fabric was soaked, you felt it cling to your core. You wiggled your hips in frustration, desperate for any amount of friction to ease the ache between your thighs. 

He hushed your whines again, the moan slipping past your lips as you squeezed your breast making you sound increasingly incoherent. 

“Not a thought in that head’ve yours huh? can’t even get the words out?” Your hand danced up to run along your upper body, fingers teasing over the swell of your breasts as you sucked in a sharp breath. He wasn’t wrong. 

“S’okay babydoll, you can touch.” you heard him swallow thickly, enough to convey that he might have been just as desperate as you. He heard your huffs through the phone, and in his condescending way shushed you gently.  “Tell me how wet ya’ are f’ me baby, feel how wet y’are f’daddy”  

He didn't need to ask twice. With your lust blown gaze tilted downwards your fingers danced across the skin of your inner thighs. They brushed the hem of your panties as you dipped your hand between your legs, teasing yourself with feather light touches.

An obscene moan bubbled in your throat as you ran a finger over your throbbing slit. Your panties were soaked, barely a barrier between your fingers and your aching pussy.  

“Hmm so wet daddy, ruined em.” it took every fiber in your being to resist the urge to pull them aside, your voice higher than it usually was. 

“I know babydoll, I know.” his faux sympathy had your breath hitching. “Imagine how wet you were for me last night.” The thought made you shudder. If you thought you were on edge you couldn’t imagine just how hot you were when he was around. Reminders of the night before sparked in your head. 

You rubbed yourself over your thin cotton panties. “Feel how wet you were ‘round my cock?”

“Jus’ for you..” He hummed in satisfaction, and you once again heard his sheets shuffling. “That's right baby, just for daddy.” He hummed. “Thinkin’ bout that cute lil face of yours, fuck. Those pretty eyes lookin’ up at me.” 

You recalled him above you the previous night as you kneeled in front of him, your lips wrapped around his thick cock as you gazed up at him. 

“Daddy need your cock..” your thighs closed around your hand, your digits drenched in your slick. You heard him curse under is breath, the unmistakable sound of his hand on his cock filling your ears. 

“Ohh- fuck, rub that pretty lil clit for me babydoll” You pulled your panties aside, finally letting your fingers meet your weeping core. You started slow, following the low hum of his voice as it emanated through the phone speaker. 

“Feel good?’ Closing your eyes you nodded–  imagined him laying on his bed, on his back, eyes screwed shut as he tried his best to decipher your breathy sighs through the phone. You hated giving into him, confessing how much you ached and longed for him, but you just couldn’t help yourself– especially when he rewarded you. You shuddered as you teased your clit. 

The image had you lost in your own head for a few seconds. 

“Use your words, slut” he sternly reprimanded. The world felt like it was spinning, and you only got more light headed when you let him take control. “not as good as yours.”  The cotton of your panties clung messily to your wet cunt as you pulled them off, sliding them down your legs and off your ankles.

“Fuck babydoll”  He sighed in aproval, “can see ya already, hand between those pretty thighs.” The fact that he could imagine you with your hand between your legs in nothing but your sleepshirt, as you thought of all the things you wanted him to do to you drove you wild. 

There was nothing more exhilarating than being the subject of his dirty fantasy. 

“Fuck yourself with your fingers” You pushed a finger in your dripping hole, sighing and letting your head rest back against your pillows. They didn’t feel like his, not quite hitting the spots he did the previous night, not stretching you open. Desperately needing to feel full you were quick to slide another finger in your aching cunt. 

As if he could read your mind he was quick to interrupt you. “Just one” his voice was strained but just as commanding and stern as before. “Don't be a greedy slut, now” Whining, you wanted to protest, but something about his tone forced you into submission. 

He hummed at your obedience, indulging you a little .“Feel how tight you were around me?”

“Fuck, bet those lil fingers dont feel as good as daddys do they? I know babydoll, wish I could take care of that pretty pussy..” he bit back a breathy moan “Yeah, they look better wrapped ‘round daddy's cock huh?” In no time your soft fingers moved back to circling your clit, and you felt that tight knot build in your core.

“Yes daddy, ahh, please.” You heard his breath quicken, you could almost feel it tickle the nape of your neck. You did miss him, you missed the way he engulfed you in his big arms, how he liked to rag doll you around, and force the brat out of you. 

“Give yourself another baby..”

Your hips hurt, you felt like jello, hot to the touch. Your mind wandered further as you fucked yourself with your fingers– what it would feel like to have your legs on either side of his thighs, his hands grabbing and kneading the flesh of your hips like he had the previous night.

You didn't even realize how loud you were being, a string of incoherent noises slipping past your lips as the tension built in your belly. You wouldn’t have realized if Javier hadn’t angrily bit through the phone. “Shut that whore mouth of yours. Wouldn't want your pops hearing you moan like a lil slut.”

It only made you ache more. “Should’ve bent ya over my knee at that table, showed him what a dirty little girl ya’are.” your skin going hot and cunt throbbing around your fingers at his obscene words. 

“Could teach him a thing or two about instilling good manners huh?” Javier could teach him a thing or two about quite a lot to be honest, and the thought made you crave him even more than you already did. The line crackled gently as he panted, and you imagined him thrusting into his fist as he thought of you.

“Maybe ya’ wouldn’t have turned out such a fuckin’ brat.” your movements sped up. “dirty lil girl, gettin fucked by a guy twice her age.”

“Can fuckin hear it.” his breath quickened. “Dirty little thing, ya’ liked that didn’t ya’? Can fuckin hear how bad ya’ need it.”  He growled, and once again you could make out the sound of his hand over his cock just barely over the static. 

“Don’t worry babydoll, gonna take care of that tight lil cunt.”  You felt a bead of sweat drip down the side of your forehead.  

“daddy ahh-” how words caught up with you, had your jaw dropping open. He knew what he was doing, and he made sure to let you know he did. “Dirty lil thing. Close huh baby?”

You could only moan and whine, unable to form a coherent sentence that conveyed just how badly you needed to cum. You were so close, far too close to hold back any longer. That of course, didn’t sit well with Javier. 

“If ya tryin’ to convince me, it aint workin. Use your damn words whore.”

Your movements were quick and sloppy, eyes fluttering shut and head tilting side to side as you neared your release. “Daddy want it”  You bit the words out, hips wiggling atop your sheets as they attempted to meet your hand. 

“Look at that, ya missed the magic word baby.” he chuckled darkly. “Know you want it babydoll, but it don't matter, you take what I give ya’, don’t you?” 

You whined, and kicked your legs delicately, frustrated at how unyielding he was. You could barely form the words. 

“Please daddy, wanna cum, please, need it so bad.”  you paused momentarily, voice small and desperate and breathy, “please lemme cum daddy..” Good manners always seemed to work with Javier 

“That's it. Good little slut.” he hissed, rather urgently as he tried to suppress a groan.  “Ohh Fuck. cum for me, cum for daddy.” He sounded as close as you did. 

The line went silent, and you imagined Javier on the other side trying desperately to hear your whines. His drawn out groan was the last straw, accompanied by the mental image of him spilling all over his fist– the one you had playing in your mind as a loop. 

“Daddy, gon- gonna cum- ah-” Your back arched off the mattress, eyes squeezing shut and jaw going slack. Your walls squeezed and throbbed around your fingers as you came in a wordless cry. 

“Ohh fuck babydoll.” His voice just barely got picked up by the receiver. You lost track of the obscenities that left his mouth as he neared his release, a stray “babydoll” lost in the mix of snarls and grunts. You would have given anything to see him as he was– on his back, his thick cock in hand, eyes screwed shut and brows furrowed. You would have given anything to have your lips wrapped around him again. You felt your pussy clench and pulse around your digits. 

There was a distinct lack of air in your lungs, and you struggled to catch your breath as you lay back against the sheets. You bit your lip as you heard him catch his breath. You’d just gotten off, but if you could you knew you’d be right at his door if he asked you in a moment's notice. 

His voice cut through your thoughts. “Thanks for the wake up call.” you imagined how he was likely running a hand through that soft brown hair of his, you could make out the action from his strained voice. 

“You're welcome” there was a short pause. Your brain buzzed, working overtime. Now far less anguished than you were before your snappy mouth was back at it. “And daddy?” you hovered your finger over the disconnect button, unwilling to let him have just a moment's peace. 

“Babydoll?” his ears perked up everytime that word slipped past your lips. Your very own Pavlov’s bell. You imagined his raised brows, big brown eyes hopeful, and probably far less droopy then when he first picked up the phone.  

“Don't be late, wouldn’t want the ambassador to get worried.” you pressed the button, the beep that followed returning you to your deafening and lonely silence. 

—

Only seventeen, 

but she walks the streets so mean

It was extremely odd to see the embassy employees all in beach shorts, flip flops, and Hawaiian shirts. It was jarring. Like when you saw your teachers out of school. People funneled in one by one for breakfast. Since their bosses couldn’t seem to leave them alone for more than a couple of hours at a time, they managed to make an event out of it. 

You walked in beside your father, who had his phone plastered to his ear, and had decided his life’s mission was to keep his line busy as to avoid your mother’s incessant calling. Still blissed out from the morning, and in a considerably better mood than the night before, you decided to ignore the drama intermittently. 

From the entrance of the restaurant you spotted Javier in the large open space facing the beach, in a white shirt, and black shorts. The shirt managed to be simultaneously too tight on his bulging arms, and slightly loose around his torso. It looked criminally soft, and was unbuttoned just enough to expose his tan chest, and give off the impression that he’d just rolled out of bed. Boy did you know that wasn’t true. He was sharing a cigarette with Colleen again, and was anxiously fiddling with the sunglasses atop his head between drags. 

His eyes caught you as you moseyed your way to your table. Commendably, he tried not to be as obvious undressing you with his eyes this time, probably because you were standing right next to your father, who was himself, trying to suppress the glare he was tempted to shoot the agent. The man was in a bad mood and it wasn’t even nine yet. 

The table was narrow, but might have been the longest one you’d ever seen in real life. It was a nightmare, trapping you between whoever you had the misfortune of being seated beside. You wished it was a buffet, at least it would give you an excuse to escape to grab refills. 

You took your seat, sandwiched between your father and Maria. Only one side of your arrangement was agreeable. You felt a tad bit better when Agent Peña eased in right opposite you. 

By the looks of it Javier was just as unenthused about the seating arrangements. In reality he had it a lot worse than you did– Owen to his left Stechner to his right. He’d even been separated from poor Colleen who had the misfortune of being stuck next to chatty deputy Neil. The only two things that made a DEA agent bearable were their general charm and ability to make conversation. Deputy Neil had neither of those things. 

After having skipped the previous night's meal thanks to Javier and having survived on the snacks stacked in your room, you were looking forward to breakfast. To Javier’s dismay however, no amount of hunger– of any kind and any severity was enough to quell your antics. 

Owen pulled his chair out, patting Javier on the back as he took a seat. The latter practically recoiled from the touch, but smiled politely anyway. It was admirable– his ability to not let these freaks get to him. There was not one tolerable person in his periphery besides Steve Murphy, who had been working pretty much independently since he was appointed to attaché, and yet the man showed up everyday, slept with any willing woman, and lived his life. He didn't care for their validation, approval, or acceptance, and it was perhaps exactly that that made them hate him as much as they did. 

You watched him interact with his colleagues, far more up close this time. The scowl he famously sported deep set on his face, arms leaned on the table and on either side of his cutlery. As always he was commanding, and resolute, delivering responses to pesky questions with far more patience and authority than you had expected. You clenched you thighs under the table. 

Conversation moved on and it wasn’t long before he fixed his eyes on your platinum chainlet, on the blue diamond hanging from your neck. He seemed to like it. Or maybe he liked how your tits looked in that dress. You were almost completely sure it was the latter, Javier Peña was no gemologist.

“Buenos días, tío.” Maria leaned to your side obnoxiously to catch his prying eyes as she took her seat beside you at the table. 

“Buenos días, ria.” Javier turned his head briefly and put on a tight smile. Idiot. There really was nothing in that head of his. If he thought he was doing a good job not arousing anyones suspicions he was sorely mistaken. The former pinched your leg under the table, and rolled her eyes at what she liked to call your “nauseating arrangement” with her godfather. 

Breakfast started with fruit, and boy did it look heavenly– practically every color of the rainbow on your plate. You popped a strawberry in your mouth, only half paying attention to the tremendously boring conversation you were unfortunate enough to be stuck in the middle of. 

You were certainly distracted, enough in fact to have only noticed minutes later that you were not the only one not paying attention. Agent Peña seemed to be rather preoccupied with your eating, enough so that he had to quite literally be shaken out of his daze to participate in the rest of the table's conversation. 

You watched the way his eyes kept drifting back to the way your lips wrapped around the fruit, how you’d bite into it slowly, and dart your tongue over your lips. He was shameless and importantly he was just begging  for a show. 

And who were you to say no to the great, the ever important DEA attaché Javier Peña? You caught and then pretty much forced his eyes to yours from across the table. If the man wanted peace, he was not making it easy on himself. He was trying to be nonchalant about the whole situation, but he was admittedly shit at it. 

Rubbing his temples with his index and thumb he tried desperately to hide his face as he watched you take a bite of the dragon fruit you had stabbed with your fork– eyes trained on the way the pink juice escaped your lips and dripped down your chin. You watched his gaze darken in warming, and it made your breath hitch to think about just how he wanted to set you straight. 

You licked your lips, reaching for the white table napkin and watching it stain pink as you dabbed away. You watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed nervously, and shot him the sweetest smile you could muster. You knew where his mind was, you knew he was thinking about the way you’d wrapped your lips around his cock the night before, around his fingers, and tasted him on your tongue. You were sure of it when he shifted in his seat uncomfortably, and politely asked your dad to repeat himself as he tried his best to engage in the conversation. 

By the time the waitress came along offering water he was practically dying to get out of the table. For someone who had been so courageous the night before he was blushing like a schoolboy. Now that he was on the spot his pda policy was changing. You weren't even touching him yet. 

The waitress leaned down beside you, and offered you regular and ice water. From the corner of your eye you watched Javier's face as you opted for the second option. Of course you asked for ice. What was he expecting? For you to give it up because he couldn't get his mind out of the gutter? In that weather? He was delusional. 

You took a sip and held the cube between your teeth, he watched it start to melt as it brushed your warm lips. You sucked on the cube, lewdly eyeing him and leaning your hands against the table. Your tongue brushed your bottom lip. 

“Agent Peña, you’ve met him before haven’t you?” 

Javier cleared his throat, then forced his eyes away from your supple lips to answer your father’s tedious questions. 

Poor man, he just couldn’t catch a break 

But he wasn’t on a break, he was still technically at work, and who were you to deal with, compared to all those scary, dangerous, criminals he spent all day with. Surely, you weren’t affecting him all that much?

Your lip tugged into a gentle smile as you watched him clear his throat in a rather obvious indication for you to get a grip. But that was no fun now was it? You stretched your leg under the table, tapping Javier’s calf with the arch of your foot. It didn't take much effort, his long legs already far closer to yours than he would have preferred for this particular situation. It was all meant to be really, the table could have been any length, yet here it was, so awfully narrow that just a minor stretch of your leg would have your soft skin brushing against his. 

He visibly flinched, and to anyone paying attention probably looked like a man possessed– responding to the apparent touches of a ghost that had snuck their way between his legs. 

But to his dismay he wasn't dealing with a ghost. He was dealing with you, and you had decided you liked the way your leg felt slanted between his, the way his skin felt as you trailed your foot along it. 

He was lucky no one ever paid attention. 

You glanced at the ambassador, who was ever engrossed in his interrogation of Javier’s deputy. If he was smart he would have noticed Peña hadn’t taken one trip out of the resort– clearly getting his fill right where he was. If he was smart enough he would have noticed the fact that you were playing footsie with his attaché under the table.

Most of breakfast passed in slow, agonising torture. With your eyes trained on his as you teased him unrelentingly. Just like he had the night before he was pained by your actions, just itching to get out of his seat and smack some sense into you. 

At one point you accidentally dropped your napkin under the table, and as you bent down to fetch it took the liberty to run your fingers against his calf when you dragged the napkin back up with you. When you looked at him once again he was a little short of red in the face.

If anything he should have been thanking you. 

You knew better than anyone the world of elitist superficiality, pseudo intellectualistic hacks, and narcissistic bureaucrats, all trying to climb the ladder. Hell you lived with one 18 years of your life. Javier could do with a little distraction. 

Your phone buzzed on the table beside your pink stained napkin. 

It was, of course, your mother. And she was of course, demanding the details of your return home. Details that you didn’t have. Details that the ambassador had likely not even clarified yet. But then again your mother didn’t care about the details. She wanted something, and the rule was that she always got it. With no care of who got stuck in the crossfire. 

The information was completely useless to her, but that wasn’t the point. She didn’t want it for practicality, she wanted it because she wanted control. 

You wanted to ask why she didn't ask him herself, but you already knew the answer. Nothing was new, you were their messenger. It felt like a cruel trap to force you into keeping contact with either of them. 

As much as you would have liked to continue bothering Javier with your under the table antics, you knew the task at hand was top priority, and that as much as you didn’t want to engage him, you were better off just clarifying the details with your father, and sending your mother along her merry way, knowing she had control over the both of you in some form or the other. 

You watched your dad as he leaned towards his deputy, mentioning something about the budget. 

“Dad-” 

You opened your mouth once again, only to be interrupted and ignored. 

“D-”

If there wasn’t a plate in front of you you’d have slammed your head right into the table. 

It went on for a good thirty seconds, you trying to catch his attention in the midst of something that would be, to anyone else, rather unimportant. But work was important, more important than whatever you had to say. In a moment you felt like that five year old kid again, tugging at his sleeve and trying to drag him to that thing you wanted to show him. 

It was humiliating, and pathetic, but it was more pathetic that you still cared, like some child. So you exhaled, struggling and rolling your eyes at Colleen as if to indicate you weren't as bothered by the situation as you were, who gave you a knowing sympathetic smile. 

Generally, you didn’t make a habit of making conversation with him in public, or in groups. He was constantly preoccupied, and no matter what you did you’d end up wasting upwards of ten minutes trying to get his attention. If it wasn't as time sensitive as it was you’d let him drone on, but you also realized leaving your mother out of the loop would only be another thing you needed to worry about. At the end of the day what did it matter to him, he’d be oblivious whilst you dealt with the complaining and whining.

Suddenly, you felt a brush of a foot against the inside of your calf, gently, up and down. Javier wedged his leg between yours, bumping your knee ever so slowly with his.  When you looked up at him he was listening to your dad. He stopped your restless legs, gently soothing their movement with each brush of his skin against yours, gaze still fixed on the conversation at hand. 

You felt your eyes burn with hot tears as he dragged his foot along your calf, then continued to bump his knee with yours, his eyes unmoving as if nothing had happened. His touch was soft, and gentle, and barely there like the night before, just this time there was nothing sexual about it. 

You pulled your leg back, folding your napkin and excusing yourself to get ready for the day. You felt his eyes follow you out of the restaurant.

—

It's alarming, truly

How disarming you can be

Eatin’ soft ice cream, 

Coney Island queen 

It had been a couple of hours since breakfast. You’d traded in your summer sun dress for a bathing suit and tie around, its sparkles twinkling against the glow of the sun. 

Despite how much he seemed to be excited to indulge you that morning you’d think you’d never met, forget fucked Javier the way he was avoiding you. He tried to be subtle about it, occupying himself in conversations with everyone from the embassy receptionist to the ambassador. 

Hell he even decided to join in the DEA volleyball game, the one that was happening right across from where you’d splayed out your beach blanket along with your friends. Just close enough to let him enjoy the view, but not close enough to arouse any suspicions. 

The sun beat down on his golden skin. This was probably the most you’d seen him interact with the other DEA folks. By the looks of it they were just as surprised as you were to find him joining in. If only they knew. 

The dirty old man. 

Truth be told, as shameless as you were, you felt a little pervy looking at him the way you were, you wondered how he had the confidence. Each second you passed gawking at his broad frame, the way he seemed to get just a little bit aggressive when the game picked up pace. It felt like something you shouldn't have been doing in public. But since when did you care about that? You imagined what he would say to you if you were alone, how he’d tease and reprimand you for your staring. 

“Just couldn’t keep your eyes off could you?”

“Desperate slut.”

He was one to talk. The man was far more of a slut than you could ever dream to be, and here he was calling you a whore. 

He wanted to have his cake and eat it too. Stay far away and preserve his sanity, but also secretly indulge in whatever perverted fantasy he had swimming in his head.

He took his little half time game break to discreetly watch you lather on your sunscreen, the way your hands roamed your body, down your bare legs and shoulders. You put on a little bit of a show, inching your hands under your tie around and towards your inner thighs. He’d called you a whore less than twelve hours ago but the man couldn't keep it in his pants for 10 minutes. 

He did not look pleased. Not when he wasn’t the only one who could enjoy the view. Those junior agents of his had been watching you like a hound of hungry dogs. If there was one thing he couldn’t seem to handle, it was a bunch of mid twenty nobodies who could barely last twenty seconds eyeing what was his. 

Your father made his way to the makeshift court just in time for a second game, to Javier’s dismay. He peeled his eyes away from you, reaching out to shake the ambassador’s hand and pass him the ball. 

You watched from a distance as the two of them engaged in friendly banter, how Javier had managed to figure out your biggest irk in less than forty eight hours of knowing you was honestly impressive. He praised your fathers great service skills as the two racked up points on the scoreboard, sharing high fives and pats on the back. It was sickening. The coward didn’t even have the courage to look you in the eye in front of your father, and then decided his MO was playing best friend with him all afternoon. 

You leaned back on your beach blanket, staring the sun right in its white face and hoping it would burn your retinas enough so that you’d never have to see that bastard with that man again. This whole thing was one thousand times less fun when Javier was getting along with your father. 

You rolled your eyes under the cover of your sunglasses.

—

She says, "You don't want to be like me

Lookin' for fun, gettin' high for free

I'm dyin', I'm dyin'"

She says, "You don't want to get this way

Street walk at night and a star by day

It's tirin', tirin'"

You’d spent your day enduring the most obscene questions from your friends, all excited and far more interested than you’d initially assumed to know every gorey detail of your little adventure with Javier. 

The drinks went down one after the other, you didn't even notice the sun had set. Javier remained out of sight, and you guessed it was a good thing, because you’d have jumped him the first chance you got. 

First to give him a piece of your mind, and then to let him fuck you sensless. 

It was ironic, popping gummies with a DEA agent on your mind. But Sophie had offered you some, and after a long day of thinking far too much about far too many things you decided it was a good idea to relax a little. 

As had become routine the music from the beach side restaurant preoccupied you as you sat in the hottub, muscles taking a moment to untense under the water and bubbles. Your father had a private dinner with the former ambassadors that evening, but said it would be better if you didn’t tag along. They were going to talk business and it would bore you. 

You were grateful, but probably not as much as the rest of the embassy, who could enjoy their night in peace. 

The effects of the gummies were kicking in, and if you thought Javier consumed your thoughts before, his name was pretty much playing on loop in your head now. It had been a while since everyone retreated to their rooms, exhausted and far too intoxicated to be laying about in the hot tub. You knew he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Further muddy his reputation and risk his career or deprive himself of the joys of being with you. 

You reached for your phone behind you, clicking it on and squinting your eyes on the time. 

2:00 am. 

You lit a cigarette, swinging your legs under the water and watching the moonlight illuminate your skin. 

Part of the reason you tagged along this drag of a vacation in the first place was because you didn't want to wile away your summer, fearing staying at home you’d be cooped up in your room all day. But here you were half way through the weekend, wondering where the time went. 

“Shouldn’t be smokin so much” He had a way of sneaking up on people, that Javier Peña. A regular entrance seemed to be just too mediocre for him. Frankly, you admired his love, or rather his addiction, to chaos. How in the world someone like him ended up a narc was still a mystery to you. 

“You an activist all of a sudden?” You were turned away from him, but rolled your eyes non the less. You heard him sigh, and with your back still turned to him you heard him take a step or two towards you, then stop, sigh defeatedly and continue forward. The man was fighting himself, and it was far more entertaining to you than it should have been. 

Turning to face him you leaned your elbows on the uneven stone that formed the deck of the hot tub, knees tucked under you as you sat atop the step leading into the water. He was still in his shorts from the morning, but had lazily half buttoned on his white cotton shirt from under which your eyes caught the mild sunburn on his exposed chest.  

Squatting down to your level he let his eyes linger on your barely covered chest– on the diamond pendant that twinkled in the sun, and had caught his attention on that first day in the lobby. It sparkled against the cut of your breasts, floating in the blue water and brushing against your skin. 

“This is not going to work if you keep sucking the ambassador's dick.” 

“yeah , this-” he pointed between your bodies. “needs to stop.” The water rippled gently, much to the disappointment of Javier, whose eyes were trained on the distorted image of your body under the surface as you waded your way between his legs. He made space for you to come closer, but didn’t indulge you any further. 

“But why?” You didn't really mean to, but you ended up dragging the ‘why’ out to the point you sounded like a desperate, pathetic mess. He almost flinched when you reached your hand forward, fingertips tracing soft shapes on his skin, right up to the hem of his black pool shorts. Then again, despite seemingly wanting nothing to do with you he moved just that little bit closer. Just enough to give himself away. 

In an attempt to crumble his resolve you leaned your cheek against his thigh, pouting up at his yearning gaze. “Didn’t ya’ like it daddy?!”

He sucked in a breath. “Dont want your pops wondering who the fuck you’ve been callin’ daddy.” he looked around and then leaned closer. “cuz’ it sure as hell ain’t him.” You felt you skin heat, the subtle throb between your legs building. 

“Since when do you give a shit what the ambassador thinks?” you pressed your lips to his skin, the faint aroma of his sunscreen invading your senses. Javier looked at you incredulously, but you were too dizzy to care. 

“He's my boss, babydoll.” You giggled in response, dragging your lips against his inner thigh. Just as it was the night before the immediate and very real thrill of what you were doing and who you were doing it with persuaded you to keep going. 

“But don’t you want to daddy?” your eyes fluttered shut as you spoke, words coming out slurred between your pouted lips. If getting high made you anything, it was seemingly desperate for Javier. You leaned your head against his thigh once again, resting it there as you gazed up at him through glossy eyes, meeting his gaze for the first time that night. 

Admittedly, it was not a good idea. You shouldn't have expected otherwise from a DEA agent. 

“Are-” He squeezed your cheeks between his thumb and index, dragging you off his thigh till you were inches away from his face. “Are you fucking high?!” He was stuck somewhere between furious, surprised and in disbelief– eyes incredulously searching your glazed ones. Closing the gap between you, you pecked him on the lips, making sure to accentuate the obnoxious ‘mwah’ sound you were for some reason, in your delirious and giggly mood, compelled to make. 

“Just a little…”

You didn't believe his good employee act. A man so consumed by all things pleasure, one of the most hedonistic people you'd ever met, and he supposedly never smoked a joint? The man was a liar and you could see right through it. 

You’d push that button another day though. 

You giggled, tilting your head and taunting him. “Are you going to arrest me, officer?” 

“I ain’t an officer babydoll.” He rolled his eyes, tapping your cheek roughly. Everywhere he touched left you wanting more. 

“Babydoll this, babydoll that, you're boring me Agent Peña.” Your lust blown eyes searched for him and you leaned your body, dripping with water, against his. He didn't seem to mind, legs unfolding till he was seated with his feet in the hottub. 

“You know you're a lot like your father.” he narrowed his eyes and seethed, still letting you press your face into his shoulder as you tucked yourself into his side. The thought was nauseating, but you were glad if he passed you down anything it was his stubbornness. 

“Oh really? Dont tell me you wanna fuck him too?” You lifted your head and sank back into the water, just in time to watch him rub his eyes in exhaustion. 

“No, but you sure as hell like bossin’ me around.” 

Tilting your head you rose to your knees. ““I'm not the one who keeps crawling back for more” you trailed a finger across his chest “you’re here, aren’t you agent? out of your own violation?” His eyes were fixated on the swell of your breasts, but moved to your face as he grabbed it between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Hmm, didn't look like that when you were gawking at me this morning.” his nose brushed yours. 

“Was returning the favor.” you shifted to whisper beside his ear. “God knows this isn't a part of your job.” You had been quite bold sober, but the intoxication seemed to aid your snappy mouth. 

You caught the twinkle in his eyes again– the one you’d seen the first night, back at breakfast and at the beach. That look of his he gave you as a warning not to push his buttons. “Keep runnin that mouth babydoll. Let's see where it gets ya” 

He fixed his gaze on your face as you reached for the buttons of his shirt. You fiddled with them, undoing them as slow as you could possibly manage. After he’d been getting an eyeful of you over the past two days you were quite satisfied to have him as exposed as you were. 

He inched closer, easing himself into warm water, one hand on your waist the other on the granite behind him . He was finally at your level, close enough for you to pepper kisses along his sunburned chest. He hissed at the contact, sucking in a breath as he felt your lips, cool from the ice in your drink, ease the subtle burn. 

His neck, his chest, you left practically no part of him untouched. Your hand sneaked up his leg as you palmed the bulge in his shorts. You watched him hiss, bit your lip in satisfaction when he could barely get your name out of his mouth. 

You shifted to straddle his thigh, sighing at the temporary relief to the pressure building between your legs. “Don’t seem so mad to me, agent Peña..” He scoffed, but didn’t do anything to stop your actions. 

The urge to push his buttons ran high, and you knew only good could come from you indulging it. Unable to hold back any further you shamelessly rolled your hips against him, sighing at the subtle relief it brought to your aching center. 

Swallowing your moan in a kiss he played with the side of your bikini bottoms, toying with it. His hands slipped under the fabric, thumbs brushing against the swell of your ass. 

Now soaked with your slick, it did little to cover your aching pussy. You squealed when you felt him slip his hand between your bodies, yanking the pathetic excuse of a cover up aside to let you press your bare cunt against his thigh. 

“You’re not as scary as you make yourself out to be, aren’t you, daddy?” 

He guided your hips over his thigh, agonizingly slow, the wet friction on your clit enough to have you pressing against him in further desperation.�� “‘Ya’ can’t even help yourself huh babydoll?” he growled in your ear, taking your earlobe gently between his teeth. 

The heat traveled up your neck, scorching your skin till it reached your cheeks. The soft skin of your inner thigh continuously brushed against the threaded lower seam of his shorts, getting increasingly tender with every pass. 

He squeezed your breast as flexed his thigh, each pass of your cunt sending your eyes rolling back into your head. Agent Peña was enjoying himself just as much as you were, no matter how much he refused to admit it. 

You were delirious, drunk literally and on pleasure as the words left your mouth– soft and slurred. “Knew you were full’ve shit, Agent Peña.” 

His hands stilled you on his thigh, his face hardened, palm coming down to meet the side of your face swifty before you could even realize what happened. You felt you pussy clench pathetically around nothing. 

Sure, he liked the control, boy did you figure that out the hard way, but it seemed like he had a no tolerance policy when it came to back talk. He had to have known that your biggest motivation to do anything you’d been doing was to get a rise out of him– his scolding, his ‘putting you in your place’, was not so much a punishment as it was a reward. 

You squirmed against his newly found grip on your waist, his words and the sting on your cheek only prompting you to attempt to rub yourself against him once again. Javier was not going to let that happen. “Watch that whore mouth of yours.” 

With his thumb and index on either side of your face he shook you slightly from side to side, his other palm coming down against the side of your face once more. 

On command, and somehow a little out of your control, a soft “sorry daddy” slipped past your lips, hands going to snake around his waist for a sense of comfort. Javier liked being mean sometimes, and you never knew it better than when in an attempt to put you in your place his palm struck your sore cheek once again. 

Whining at his actions you grabbed the fabric of his unbuttoned shirt, tugging him closer impossibly. “Your pops didn’t teach you any manners did he?” he tutted at you, stroking your head in a surprising display of gentleness. It still, however, dripped with condescension and mockery. 

The sting on the side of your face felt like it was burning, but he didn't seem to care. You felt the desire bubble further in your core.  “Don't you worry babydoll, daddy’ll make sure you behave” he landed a firm spank to your ass, making you yelp and fall forward into his chest. 

“Someone’s gotta fuckin’ look out for you,” Smiling, he pinched the cheek he’d just slapped, seemingly enjoying your little “ow”s. “cuz your old man sure doesn’t. ain’t that right babydoll?” Hot tears pricked your eyes, making them flutter shut at the sting. You turned your face as he planted a soothing kiss below your ear. 

Javier took your chin between his fingers, directing your face down to where you were straddling his lap. His free hand snaked between your bodies to cup your barely clothed mound. 

“This tight lil pussy’s mine. Only daddy gets to make her feel good, fuck her.” He rubbed soft circles on your clit, making your hips shift to feel the little friction. His actions had you far more desperate than before. “When she feels good, ‘s cuz daddy’s lettin’ her.” He murmured darkly, sparkling brown eyes raised in a subtle warning towards yours. “Ya hear?” 

You nodded, but he only landed another spank to your ass, prompting you to use your words. 

“Daddy decides.” He leaned forward, large palm once again capturing your face. 

“What was that? Know you can be louder babydoll–” he squeezed your cheeks harder, biting out his words. “heard it last night.” 

Mewling, you repeated yourself– this time louder, but also feeling smaller. His skin felt warm as you leaned your now tender cheek against it in an attempt to get back into his good graces. 

“That's better, ain't that right?” Javier smiled gently, hands guiding you over his thigh once again. “So much better when you listen huh?” You could only manage to nod. 

“All this just for some attention, huh babydoll?” he brushed his knuckles against your soft skin. He talked down to you, patronizing you, but it only made bare down on his thigh harder. “Fuckin’ pathetic.” 

Your lips turned to a downward tilt. He matched your pout, still stroking your skin. “Hate to see it don't ya? pretty little thing like you, whoring herself around” he brought your hand to his hard cock, letting you rub him over his shorts. 

‘Like a free use hooker.” You felt your pussy twitch at his words, at the way he chuckled darkly before he spoke again. 

“Could give the girls at the brothel a run for their money.” 

Rather haphazardly, he pulled you to straddle his lap, a new sense of urgency taking over in the wake of your mild submission. You felt his hard length press against your pussy and shuddered. 

“Want it inside, daddy, please” That white cotton shirt of his you so loved was discarded and tossed to the side of the deck in seconds, letting your hands roam freely across his body– grab onto his broad shoulders. 

“I know baby” he stroked your arm gently. “Just needed daddy’s attention” You resumed softy grinding against him, his hands once again taking hold of your hips. 

Sighing, you closed your eyes, letting the quaint atmosphere of the sleeping resort shift you in your own little private universe for the time being. All was lost in the mix of tempered moans and sighs, your delirious state only heightening the pleasure. 

Javier’s hand slipped up your back, under the band of your bikini top to unclasp it discreetly. You would have barely noticed if it wasn't for how he groaned as he slipped it off you, palm immediately moving to palm and squeeze your breasts. He kissed up your bare stomach, then your collar bones, letting you press your lips to his when you urged his face up to yours. 

He always tasted the same– cigarettes and whiskey. You could get used to it if you were being honest. He was drowning you in his presence, when he was around nothing else seemed to matter besides getting him inside you, or getting on his nerves. You wondered if you really had as much power over him as you thought you did. 

You kicked yourself for being so oblivious and distracted. Before you knew it the strings of your bikini top were being slipped off their clasps and being used to bind your hands together. The guy was a cop, and probably a pretty good boy scout guessing from the unmoving boxknot he made at the back of your wrists. The string was tight, any of your movements prompting an unfavorable friction against your skin. 

You felt him smile against your cheek as you pulled back, twisting your body side to side in an attempt to free yourself. Your face burned in humiliation as he chuckled at your futile attempts, and frustrated huffs. 

“Told ya baby..” 

“You are such a dick.” Humming, he pulled you down onto his lap further, dragging your dripping cunt against his cock. “You’ve gotten lucky tonight, brat..” 

With your hands tied behind your back there was no choice. You had two options, sink back and let your head fall under the water, or sit pretty for him on his lap. The time of your bratting around was far from over, but you let him have his little measly victory. 

He lined his thick cock up with your warm center, teasing your aching hole and just barely pushing in. “You gonna be a brat the rest of the night?”

You squirmed, shaking your head vigorously. “You gonna stop being such a fuckin slut? Runnin’ ya hands all over yourself at the beach-” He pushed in just a little bit further, his tip breaching your warm center. “Givin’ those boys a show?” 

You blubbered out an urgent “no daddy”, shifting side to side as you screwed your eyes shut in frustration. You could barely take it any longer. From the way Javier had his eyes trained on you it seemed like neither could he. 

With a deep but broken groan he pushed inside you in a single swift thrust, stretching you open on his thick cock. It was a relief to be full again, the sensation ghosting over you since the last time. His hands smoothed up and down your thighs under the water, squeezing the flesh of your ass till you yelped. 

“Think your pops out there? Walkin’ round, tryna figure out where the fuck you disappeared?” He growled in your ear, obviously proud of himself beyond measure. His cock was nestled deep in your pussy, shallow thrusts hitting that sweet spot inside you you could barely reach in the morning. 

“thinks I'm sleepin.” you panted. You felt him twitch inside you. 

“Dirty little girl.” He laughed mockingly, then met your hips in a harsh thrust. You rested your forehead against his, letting him place kisses to your slack lips and watch your eyes flutter shut. 

You felt small in his lap, engulfed by his presence and broad shoulders, onto which you attempted to rest your head against as your hips rose and fell over his. You nipped the underside of his jaw, then pressed a kiss there. “Little brat” 

The water made a seductive splashing sound as you shifted. Anyone in the vicinity would be immediately privy to what exactly was going on. The mix of alcohol, drugs and Javier’s hands on your body spread a fuzzy tingle across your skin. 

Your lips parted in a wordless cry, you were so so close. 

“Such a good little slut when you finally fuckin’ listen” his cock hits your sweetspot in the perfect angle as he rocks his hips up into you. You’re barely doing any work, letting him use you as you sit on his lap. 

“Gonna ruin this pretty lil body for all those boys. Fuck you like you need.” He grunted in your ear, throbbing and pulsing inside you. “Cuz on one else can babydoll.” 

The coil in your belly was quick to tighten, you felt your walls quiver around his cock as you began to cum. You bit down on his shoulder as you came undone, trying your best to stay quiet amongst the sound of bubbling water, crashing waves and chirping crickets. He fucked you through it, groaning as he felt your pussy suck him in. 

Javier was quick to follow, thrusts getting shallow and sloppy as he fucked into your wet heat, an incoherent “babydoll” falling from his mouth as he painted your pulsing walls with his warmth. 

The sound of crashing waves seemed deafening as you both caught your breath, the certain mess you’d made on his lap not bothering you at the moment. You were still imobile thanks to your restraints, and lay your head on his chest as he peppered soft kisses to the cheek he’d slapped and pinched minutes ago. 

His hands snaked behind your back, untying the unmoving boxknot he released your hands from the makeshift restraints, then ran his thumb over the sore flesh. You sat atop his lap, still stuffed full of his cock– softening inside you. He tried to similarly pepper the tender flesh of your wrists with soft kisses, but you pulled them away, twisting them for comfort. 

For a man who had slept with the entirety of Colombia he sure liked to take his time with the intimacy. He held you to his chest– still rising and falling and pulled out, tucking himself back into those infamous black pool shorts. Just as he did the day before he stroked your skin gently under the water, and instinctively you pulled your legs together when he reached between them, thighs closing around his hand as he shifted your bathing suit back in place. 

In that blissed out mood he layed back in the hot tub, letting the bubbles wash over his chest, pressing his warm lips to your even warmer cheek and sighing up at the sky. With how preoccupied you were the night before you’d missed the clear skies of Cartajena. It was difficult to remember the last time you could actually see the stars. He kissed your cheek again. 

Shifting your head to the side you placed your hands on the outside of the hottub, lifting yourself off his lap and out of the water. He looked at you, somewhat confusedly, but didn’t push you further. You felt your tie on skirt stick messily to your upper thighs. It dropped to the floor with a heavy plop when you undid it. 

You reached to grab his discarded shirt off the ground. It was seeped in the scent of his sunscreen– a fresh fougère, crushed grass, and lavender. He leaned his head back, watching as it clung ever so slightly to your wet skin when you slipped it on– the white fabric turning translucent. He kept his eyes on the shameless show you put on for him– reaching down to shimmy off your wet bikini from under the shirt's cover. You felt his spend lewdly trickle down your leg.

“Makin’ me walk back cold?” he breathed jokingly, lifting his head off the granite and nodding it towards you. 

“I can take it off” You smiled as you reached for the top button, undoing it. He watched, for whatever reason expecting you to stop. You moved down another, then another, and another. 

You caught the subtle tick in his jaw. “Put it back on. Now” 

“M’kay daddy..” bending and reaching for your bathing suit that had formed in a pile on the warm ground you met his gaze, the collar of your, rather his shirt riding down too close for comfort. 

And to think he’d tried to ignore you the whole day. He was crazy. You stood up straight, beginning to walk back into your room. 

“Don’t forget about me this time, daddy..”

The boys, the girls

They all like Carmen

She gives them butterflies

Bats her cartoon eyes

She laughs like God

Her mind's like a diamond

Audiotune lies

She's still shinin'

Like lightning, whoa, whoa

White lightning

Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think. Made myself sad by making her refuse Javi’s aftercare but we’ll deal with that later. This took way longer than intended so I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you to everyone who reblogs my work you keep my writing. Dividers and banners by @ Saradika 💗🫶🐝

[musings-of-a-rose]

All of You

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (eventual wife reader)

Word Count: 2900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I’m not sure who originally said it, but the wonderful @morallyinept shared this and I had to write it for her! A Boxing Day gift? Is that a thing (said in American)?  Shoutout to @rhoorl for the nickname! This is not beta’d because I’m tired lol

Yeah... I'm not okay. I read a reblog comment which made me chuckle saying this is older, retired Peña who's being slowly overfed by his wife

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Javier Peña Masterlist

“I’ll be right with you!” I yell over my shoulder as the entry bell dings, boots casually walking across the hard floors of my little corner store bakery. 

I slide the baking pan in my old oven, an antique to most but she works better than most of these modern ones. I set my timer and place it on the counter next to the oven, wiping my hands on my apron as I spin around to address the customer and am momentarily rendered speechless. A man casually peruses my glass display case, all dark hair and dark eyes, a slim frame but the broadest shoulders I’ve seen. His nose is prominent, a mustache that sort of reminds me of Burt Reynolds is neatly trimmed, and he leans down to look closer at something in the case. 

Sexy would not begin to describe this man. 

“Are those coyotas?”

I blink, his voice runs through my brain and makes my body shiver, goosebumps erupting across my arms. 

“Y-yeah. Yes. Coyotas.”

He looks up at me, his eyes wide and round just like a damn puppy and I could get lost in those eyes. 

“Could I have a few?”

“Absolutely. Anything else?”

He finally looks at me, pulling his eyes away from whatever memory the coyotas held and blinks, his eyes scanning down my body, the tingles from before starting back up. 

“S-sir?”

“Huh? Oh. Uh yeah. I’m picking up an order for Chucho? Peña?”

I chuckle. “Chucho. My favorite customer! I have his order right here.” I move to grab a small bag with various pastries inside, making him a to-go cup of cafe con leche to accompany it. 

“Would you like a cup?”

“What? Oh I don’t want to put you out.”

“You’re not. How do you like it?”

“Plain?”

I pour him a black cup of coffee, sliding the lid over it before turning to hand it to him, his fingers brushing against mine as he takes it and I feel my cheeks heat up at the spark that passes between us. 

“Chucho normally comes to say hi.”

“Yeah he’s dealing with farm shit right now. Asked me to come.”

I nod. “And you are?”

“Oh shit! Sorry! I’m Javier. Chucho’s son.” He extends a hand as I say my name but does it too quickly, coffee spilling out of the cup that he had squeezed a little harder than he should have. “Fuck I’m so sorry. Let me help-”

I wave my hand. “I got it. Are you ok? Some of that got on you. Hold still.” I take a clean cloth from my apron pocket and run some water on it, turning back to Javier. I gently take his hand, placing it in mine, trying to ignore the heat that immediately sprung up between my thighs. I dab at his hand, hearing his breath come in short bursts. 

“Am I hurting you?”

“N-no. Not..hurting.”

He looks into my eyes, his pinched together and round and we just stare at each other for several moments, getting lost in the other. Then the bell rings and the spell is broken, Javier jerking his hand back as a woman walks in and I wave to her, letting her know I’d be right over. I grab Chucho’s order and coffee, carefully handing the latter to Javier.

“Wait. I haven’t paid.”

I wave him off. “Don’t worry about it. I got it.”

“No. You deserve payment.”

“Javier, really. It’s ok.” My body braver than I am, I place my hand on his forearm, giving it a little squeeze, offering him a smile. Javier shifts from foot to foot before looking at me and nodding. 

“If you insist.” He hesitates, opening his mouth to say something else but then the door bell jingles again and he closes his mouth, holding up the bag slightly in thanks. 

Javier comes to get his dad’s order every day for the next few months. I’m fairly certain Chucho will have gained some major weight by now, with all the cookies and pastries Javier brings him. But I am not complaining - any chance to see this man, hear him talk. He doesn’t tell me much about the last few years, but I imagine he can’t, not really. His job has so much confidentiality involved but it’s deeper than that. I can see it in his eyes, the hardness, sadness, regret for things he must have had to do to take down an evil man. 

So he asks me about me, where I’m from, how did I get so good at baking, all of it. I tell him how my “abuela” taught me the from moment I could talk, teaching me all the traditions that accompany each pastry. Even though we weren’t blood related, she had been really close with my mom, who reminded her of a daughter she’d lost. Javier listens with rapt attention, asking me questions to learn more as he sips his coffee. 

But one day he doesn’t come in at his normal time in the morning. Instead, Chucho walks in, smiling and giving me a quick hug before making his usual order. 

“No Javier today?” I ask, trying to be nonchalant. Which I guess I’m not because he smirks. 

“Actually, I had business in town today. Javi is mending some things in the barn for me.”

The image of a sweaty Javier fills my mind and I shake my head a little. Focus. 

“Oh. Sounds like hard work.”

There’s that smirk again. “It is. Hey, could you do me a favor? I owed him dinner and I won’t be home in time for that. Poker night at Robert’s house. If I call Rita’s, could you bring it to him?”

“I..me?”

“You close early enough?”

I’d close right now if it meant seeing sweaty Javier pounding nails.

“Y-yeah. I can do that for you.”

He smiles, handing me money for his coffee. “I’ll call Rita’s. Could you get it around 4?”

I pick up his food at Rita’s, ready and waiting for me at 4pm, and follow the directions Chucho had given me out to the Peña farm. I’d be lying to myself if I said I wasn’t nervous, getting to see Javier outside of the walls of my little bakery was something I’d only dreamed of. I figured if he were interested, he would’ve asked me out or something by now. Right?

Taking one last glance in the mirror to adjust my hair, I step out of my car, walking around to open the passenger door and grab the food, his drink secured in my other hand. I hesitate at the front door, mostly because I’m trying not to chicken out but also because my hands are full and my brain is not operating fully. I eventually decide to set his drink down on the arm of the porch chair and knock, waiting several moments. Only, no one comes and the house is quiet. I knock again, wait again, and still nothing. But then I hear a faint clink! Clink! Coming from around back where the barn is and I assume Javier is in there. 

Grabbing up the drink, I take a deep breath and head towards the barn, where I hear some more banging and a couple of swear words. Nervously, I raise my hand to the wood door and knock, despite the door already being open. The pounding stops immediately and then he walks into my vision, Javier, sweaty, no shirt, jeans with some wear on them, and a tool belt slung low on his hips. He’s wiping his hands on a handkerchief as he walks towards me, head cocked to the side but his eyes wide and…nervous?

“Pastelito?” 

I smile, clumsily holding up the food and drink. “Chucho said he was going to Robert’s and wouldn’t be home to get you the dinner he owed you.” Don’t look at his chest, don’t look at his chest. Don’t. Look. 

His eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “Owed me? He doesn’t owe me anything.”

“O-oh. I..he just asked me and I said I’d help. But you look busy, I can take this back if you don’t-”

“No!” He steps closer to me, reaching for the food. “I mean, no. I’ll…thank you, pastelito.” 

I hold out the food and drink, Javier only a couple of steps away. I finally manage to look at him and find him already looking at me, his eyes dark and bright, looking for something in mine. He takes the food, his fingers brushing against mine, only this time he doesn’t move away. His large hands pause over mine for several moments before his fingers start to trace little lines up my forearm, goosebumps pimpling my skin, my heart racing. No longer in control of my brain, my eyes scan down his shirtless chest and back up, heat flaring between my thighs. He grips my forearms, pulling me to him and I drop the food, my hands immediately coming up to touch his chest as he lifts my chin, his lips pressing against mine. Fuck, his lips are soft and he’s so warm, sweaty from his work and all I can think is how I want him to press me into this bale of hay and take me, let me take his worries away. 

One hand slides down my back, the other cradling the back of my head as his tongue pushes gently forward, my lips parting, tongue coming out to meet his. He presses his body against mine, the sweat from his chest getting me wet all over. He walks me backwards until I bump against a beam. He starts to kiss a path down my neck and I gasp, whining a little when he sucks on some spot below my ear. His hands are wandering, sliding across my body, hoisting one of my thighs up on his hip, his stomach pressing in between my thighs and I moan at the feel of it. As he reaches my boobs he stops, pulling his head up so fast I’m dizzy with the motion of it. 

“Javier?”

His eyes are nearly black, his chest heaving, and he shifts slightly where he stands. “I…I can’t.”

Ouch. “Oh. I..you can. If you need permission, you definitely have it.”

“No, it’s just-” He sighs, gently setting my leg back on the floor and stepping away from me and I feel cold despite the heat of the evening, and embarrassed.

“I’ll see you around then,” I have to get out of here before the tears come. But his hand gently closes around my arm, tugging on it lightly until I turn, swallowing hard.

“Paselito, it’s not you. Please, come sit? And I’ll explain?”

I nod, shaking my head to rid myself of the tears. At least for the moment. He sits on a bale of hay and pats the space next to him. I sit, wrapping my arms around myself for some sort of comfort. He looks at me, taking my hand in his and holy shit why are his hands so large?

“Pastelito…I..I normally rush right into the physical. Hell, that’s all I really had for the last 6 years.” He sighs. “But I don’t want to do that with you. I don’t want to rush it. I definitely want to, but I want to date you. Fuck, I sound stupid don’t I?”

“Not at all, Javier. I…I’ll assume this isn’t a line,” Javier chuckles at that. “But I would absolutely love to date you.”

We fuck at the end of the first date and through the remainder of that weekend.

10 years later…

Javier sets his utensils down, chewing the last bit of his dinner before taking a sip from his glass. “You need to stop cooking so well, mi esposa [my wife], or I may not be able to fit through the door.” He rubs at his stomach, softer and slightly more fluffy after a few years of early retirement. 

“Never. I love cooking for my husband. He’s definitely earned it.”

“Yes but soon you may not want me.” He pats his stomach and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, insecurity brimming behind it.

I set down my fork, pushing my chair back to stand up and walk over to him. His eyes follow my movements and I gesture for him to push his chair back from the table, which he does. I stand between his legs, looking down at him. I place my hand over his, where it rests on his stomach.

“You think I’d find you unattractive because of this?” He shrugs, a non committal answer. 

“Maybe. I am not in the shape I was when we met.”

“Neither am I, Javi.”

“Yes, but you’re gorgeous.”

“So are you.”

He blows air from his lips, looking away from me. Much to his surprise, I decide to straddle him, his arms quickly hooking behind my knees to help hold me. I lean forward, kissing him hard and he kisses me back, his nails digging into my skin. I’m grateful I wore a dress today, especially because there’s less layers between us. I start to move my hips, slowly at first but the heat quickly builds as I grind along his belly, breaking the kiss to gasp. He watches me, eyes wide and dark as I rub myself on this area that causes so much insecurity. 

“Fuck, Javier, you’re so fucking..ngh!” My hands grip his shoulders, digging into his skin. 

“Yes, pastelito, use me. Fuck me how you want. Show me how you feel.” His chest heaves, helping to hold me in place still, but his hands are twitching, wanting to touch me. I speed up, grinding harder and then suddenly I come, his name spilling from my lips as I leave a wet mark on his shirt. Finally, I look down at him smiling, seeing his eyes like a damn puppy. 

“I fucking love your body, Javi. All of it. I could fuck myself on all of YOU!” I scream out the last word as Javier suddenly stands, pushing me up and laying me on the table, somehow pushing dishes out of the way as he did, some of them clattering to the floor, to be picked up later. 

His hands scramble up under my dress, yanking down my soaked panties and pulling them off, groaning when he felt how wet they were. His belt buckle clanks as he undoes it and drops his pants to the floor. He lines up, but I lean up on my arm. 

“Wait.” I reach forward with my other hand and undo some of his buttons, Javi finishing the rest before yanking it off himself. I run my nails down his chest and over his belly, the damp skin there heating me up.

I meet his eyes. “You’re so fucking, hot Javi. I will never stop thinking that.”

He pushes me back down and into me at the same time and I yell his name as he splits me open, his fingers digging into my hips and pulling me towards him as he thrusts, an extra hard jut of his hips when he’s already inside, knowing how that makes me writhe and moan, my entire body like a livewire. He grunts with every thrust of his hips, baring his teeth sometimes with the force of it and all I can do is hold on, my fingers digging into his arms as I moan and yell his name. 

“Yes! Fuck me, Javi!”

His hand moves between my thighs, touching me and my legs twitch. He smirks down at me as I chant his name. “Scream my name, pastelito. Make the neighbors know who I am.”

“Ye-YES! JAVI!” I come hard, yelling his name as he asks, stars in my vision and the sound of wind rushing in my ears, but not loud enough that I don’t hear him, grunting and panting out my name as he spills into me. His forehead touches mine, his nose nuzzling into me for several moments before he sits back up with a different groan, rubbing at his back for a moment before pulling out.  

“Well my back definitely tells me I’m getting older.”

I chuckle, my breathing finally leveling out as Javi extends his hand to me, helping me sit up. He holds it, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand before placing it on his cheek, looking at me.

“So, you said you could fuck yourself on all of me?” His eyebrows are raised questioningly. 

I nod. “Oh yes.”

His eyes darken. “Then show me.”

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[loquaciousferret]

Saints and Sinners

Summary: The yearly Halloween rendezvous with your long-term no-strings lover Joel Miller is set to be shaken up when he invites a third- Javi Peña- to your hotel room.

No-outbreak AU | Joel Miller and Javi Peña existing in the same universe AU

Pairings: Javier Peña x f!reader x Joel Miller

Word Count: 5.7k (whoops)

Warnings below the cut | 18+ Only

Content Warnings: MATURE 18+ Disrespect of religion including the Cross. No real physical description of reader other than female anatomy and she can be lifted by or sit on top of both males. Alcohol consumption, sex whilst under the influence, oral both m and f receiving, facesitting, facefucking, unprotected sex with a stranger, consensual voyeurism and exhibitionism, facial, spitting, degradation, pet names, anal play, MMF threesome, a suggestion of but not actual infidelity, discussion of age gap between the sexual partners.

A/N: Hey homies, I’ve come out of retirement for one day only for halloween (It’s also my birthday) this started off just something hot but accidentally turned fluffy and deep towards the end. Consider that my birthday gift to myself. I hope you enjoy!

You analyse your appearance in the mirror for what might be the hundredth time, straightening the garish crystal-covered cross that hangs on a delicate chain from your neck. The base of it just slightly tucks into the cleavage that is spilling from the top of the satin black mini dress. A few strands of hair peak out from the matching black covering on your head, framing your face perfectly. Sexy nun. What a great Halloween costume. Offensive? Probably. But hot? Definitely.

Joel had texted you a few hours previously with the room number for your usual luxury downtown hotel. 308. Surprise inside. The message had read. A man of few words was Joel Miller, but you didn’t mind. Your annual meeting didn’t need much introduction.

You checked the time on your phone and realised you were in a rush. Your scheduled Uber, the chariot that would deliver you to Joel, would be there in half an hour. You quickly grabbed your bottle of wine, still only half finished, and poured yourself another large glass. After all this time, the nervous butterflies that gathered in your stomach prior to seeing him should have faded, but on the contrary, they seem more powerful each passing year.

By the time you had finished off the bottle you were rushing to cover yourself with a long black coat and put your heels on to head out the door. The nerves had barely subsided and the alcohol only served to hinder your balance as you hurried to the car.

You arrived at the hotel, which you hadn’t visited since this time last year. It was a looming black structure that stood out against the rest of the buildings on the street. Once inside the lobby, it was like you were in another dimension altogether. It was dimly lit and strongly scented with candles and diffusers. It was soundproofed well, to the extent that you would never know you had just stepped off of a busy city street. It was familiar and yet mysterious every time you visited. It certainly wasn’t the sleazy motel you would imagine to typically be used for you and Joel’s purposes. You didn’t know how often other people typically visited hotels. They are usually a place of passing. So, after visiting on the same weekend every year for five years, you felt like perhaps you were a regular.

You spoke to the man at the desk who welcomed you with warm eyes and a kind smile. It was the kind of place where the staff always made you feel important. He handed you a wallet made of thick black card with the hotels gold logo embossed on the front.

“The keycard is just inside. Take the elevator to the third floor and you’ll find 8 on your right.” He says. “And I’m here all night, should you need anything at all.”

“Thank you.” You say, and proceed nervously to the elevator. The hand holding the wallet is actually shaking. Pull it together.

The elevator ride to the third floor is over quicker than you would have liked, and suddenly you are stepping out into a dim corridor. The same thick scent that fills the lobby also lingers here. Deep and musky, like oud, and yet fresh at the same time. The whole thing is a sensory experience.

You turn to find 308 and take deep breaths with each stride. You’re about to see him again. With each year that passes, you always worry things will have changed, and yet they never do. He is always the same Joel, the same scent, the same strong frame, the same quirks in his speech. He is something entirely familiar to you, just as you are to him. Two halves of a pair entirely in tune with one another, able to predict each others every word, every movement. He is the one constant you can always rely on. You just know him.

But when you insert the keycard and let yourself into the room, you are staring into the face of someone entirely unfamiliar.

“Uhh- I-“ You began to stutter. There must have been some mistake, but you don’t know what to say. ‘I’m sorry, I think uh- I-”

“Don’t worry.” He said with a smooth Texan accent. “You’re in the right place. You’re Joel’s girl, right?”

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion as you try to piece it together. The question, asked with such casualness as though he already knew it to be true, was so complicated that you could barely wrap your head round it. You weren’t Joel’s girl, not even close. Why did he think that? How does he know Joel?

Once you looked at him properly, you realised that whilst he was younger, this stranger, his resemblance to Joel other than that was striking. He looked more like him than his own brother. The same hooked nose and serious brow bone, but his hair was shorter and straighter, dark brown not yet peppered with grey like Joel’s. And unlike Joel’s scruff of stubble, this man was clean shaven except for a thick moustache.

So this was the surprise. You realised. Where the hell did he find this guy?

“What is this?” You ask. It came out harsher than you expected and you cringed at yourself for being so rude. But this was not part of the arrangement, and you hadn’t prepared yourself. The butterflies in your stomach swelled painfully.

“I don’t know, sweetheart.” He said. “Some kind of Halloween treat I guess.”

“Is it? Seems like more of a trick to me.”

The man chuckled, unphased by your comment. Whatever this was, well, you had a pretty good guess, and whilst you weren’t against it in theory, you were pissed Joel had pulled something like this. But he always had to change the rules and shock you. It was just part of his addictive game.

The man rose from the comfortable chair in which he had been slouched, thighs wide, manspreading and confidently exposing a bulging package inside his tight jeans. He reached for a bucket containing an expensive champagne, popped it open without any fuss and poured two large flutes full. He held one out for you and you took a tentative step towards him.

“I don’t bite.” He said, flashing a toothy grin that made you doubt his statement.

You took it from him anyway, your hand brushing against his large warm one as you clutched the stem. You took a sip and the warm bubbles floated down your chest and into your stomach, heat radiating where it mixed with the white wine from earlier.

Damn this whole situation, you think, and yet you can’t fool yourself into thinking you won’t do exactly what Joel intended you to do with this guy. When he calls, you answer. When he gives, you take. And when he tricks you into meeting a handsome stranger and screwing him, for whatever reason, you oblige just so.

“So, um…”

“Javi.”

“So, Javi.” You say. “What are you supposed to be dressed as?”

“Uhhh…” He hums as if he hadn’t really thought about it. “A cop.” He says eventually.

“Then where’s your uniform?” You challenge.

“Undercover cop I guess.” He shrugs, smirk plastered on his face. “You on the other hand. You went all out, huh?”

“Oh, this old thing?” You say, running your hand up your side from the hem of the dress to your cleavage, which you lean towards him for a better view.

His tongue flicks out across his lower lip. You giggle and lean back to where you had been sitting before, but he reaches an arm out to wrap around your waist and pull you a little closer towards him.

“How do you know him?” You ask. You don’t want to pry, but if you’re going to let him fuck you, you want at least a few details.

“Uhh…” His responses don’t come easily to any of your questions, as if he is consistently just thinking up answers before offering them. “We met at poker.”

“I didn’t know he gambled.” You say.

Javi looks at you with a quizzical expression, like it was obvious. Like Joel and gambling are synonymous and it wouldn’t make sense not to immediately associate them. It stings for some reason.

“Right.” He says, expression still twisted. “So not his girl then, I guess. Then how do you know him.”

But you hum too while you think of your answer, and so you give Javi some slack for his own hesitation.

“Old friends.” You say simply, giving nothing away. “How did this come about though?”

He laughs a little, ducking his head as if unsure whether to be honest. “A bet.”

“A bet?” Your eyes widen and you respond in shock. You’re rightfully offended by the insinuation, but it doesn’t make you angry. If anything, it sends another aching sensation between your legs. “He- He bet me? You won a bet for me?”

He laughs at that, a proper laugh, like the suggestion itself was downright ridiculous, although you are unsure why. You had considered it a pretty sound conclusion. “Actually, no.” He explains. “It was Joel who won the bet.”

Your eyebrows are drawn together in thought and he smirks as he watches you piece what you can together.

“So…” You say, unsure what to think of it all. “So he really wants us to do this?”

“I guess so.” He says, finishing off his champagne. Yours is empty too and he takes the glass from you, heading back to the desk to find the rest of the bottle. “You want another?” He asks.

You shake your head no and he comes and sits down next to you on the bed again.

“Is he… Is he coming? I mean are we supposed to wait or- or- do we have t-“

He cuts you off and puts a comforting hand on your thigh.  “Hey, there is no ‘have to’. Whatever you like. I’m a man of the law, darlin’. I won’t make you.” He pauses just for a beat. “Unless that’s what you’re into.”

You flush at the insinuation, looking away from him. Damn your bashful complexion. Damn Joel for this twisted trick. Damn this handsome dude for making it impossible not to throw yourself into his lap and kiss him.

He responds to you immediately, his hands wasting no time feigning respectfulness before attaching to your ass and groping you through the tightly stretched fabric.

You grind into him as he deepens the kiss, one hand leaving your ass to come round and grip your jaw. The thick denim of his jeans stimulates you through the thin barrier of your underwear.

“Dirty girl.” He says as you speed up your movements, grinding yourself against his growing bulge deliberately to pleasure yourself. “That outfit just pretend or somethin’? Where’d ya learn to do that?”

You don’t speak back and you focus on unbuttoning his shirt instead, not breaking the kiss as you work at the buttons. The alcohol has affected your dexterity and eventually he pulls back and starts undoing them himself. You reach for his belt instead, unclasping it and then pulling down the zip on his jeans.

By then his shirt is off, and you take in the wide expanse of honey skin. He is slimmer than Joel, but still built strong. Lean and toned muscle take the place of Joel’s, which are hardened by life but softened by age. It’s not just the resemblance that had you comparing the two. You compared every lover to Joel. Eventually you just had to stop sleeping with anyone else, because no one measured up. There was simply before Joel, and after Joel. And after Joel, well… nothing else would suffice. Apart from this handsome stranger nominated by Joel personally. That, you were willing to try.

You fumble clumsily with his jeans until he takes over that, too. He grinds his palm into the hard bulge as he does so. You smirk a little when the trail of hair that is peeking out is revealed further, showing he isn’t wearing underwear.

He pushes them down his legs, not bothering to remove them fully, lays backwards, and then his hands are grabbing at your sides and pulling you up further so you are sitting on his stomach.

“You’re just something else, ain’t ya?” He says, his voice thick with desire for you.

You flush and he starts to take apart your costume, removing the head piece and uncovering your hair which remains perfect underneath. Then, he reaches behind you and unzips the dress, his touch gentle but still urgent, fuelled by desire. You raise your arms to let him slide it over your head, exposing your bare chest, and his hands immediately move to cup your breasts, kneading gently and toying with your nipples with his thumbs.

“Look at you…” He coos.

You basked in his attention. He was softer than Joel. Sweeter. Then you scolded yourself for comparing them and tried to enjoy the moment, leaning down to kiss him.

He pushed you away. “Uhuh.”

You frown, but he is quickly grabbing your thighs and pulling you further up his chest towards his face. You let him guide you until you are hovering over him, his mouth kissing at you through your lace underwear.

You let out a desperate sigh and you feel him smirk under you. He presses another few kisses before opening his mouth and dragging his tongue up and down your underwear.

You feel yourself shaking a little already, and you put effort into breathing deeply to avoid pathetically moaning so soon.

You gasp as Javi brings his hand up to your underwear, pulling it aside so his tongue has access to your wet core.

As soon as his tongue connects, he lets out a groan. Your knees shake and whilst you had been trying to hover slightly before, you end up fully sitting on his face. This encourages him even more, sloppily eating you out, his nose brushing your clit. He licks, sucks, and kisses each spot perfectly. His moustache tickles a little and you realise you have never slept with a dude with one before.

“Oh, god-“ You gasp, cutting yourself off with a loud moan. “Javiii-“

He moans into you as he eats you out hungrily, sending vibrations around your aching core.

“Fuck-“ You say. You rip yourself out of his grasp and shuffle down his body where his cock stands, hard and throbbing. You had to stop him before you came all over his face. Joel wouldn’t have appreciated that.

You glide your dripping cunt up and down his shaft, wetting it before rising up on your knees and taking it gently in your hand. You sink down onto it and watch his expression. He grits his teeth in pleasure.

You let it fill you for a moment, not moving while you adjust to his length. He has less girth than Joel, but not much. His length is equal, hitting a spot deep inside you as you gently rock back and forth. Once you are prepared, you start to move, slowly at first, but with gradually increasing pace and force.

Using your hands to help you balance, you start to bounce in a quick rhythm up and down his length. Your tits jiggle in his face, the cross hitting against his lips. He takes it between his teeth and you giggle, your hole fluttering and pulsing as you do so. This causes him to spit it out, his mouth opening in a sensual moan.

“Fuck, baby, you ride this cock so damn good-“ He pants, hands grabbing at your ass greedily, spreading your cheeks and helping you with your momentum as you bounce on his length shamelessly. The praise encourages you to keep trying hard to please him.

Your moans are desperate as you keep going, your head thrown back and your mouth open. Your eyes roll pornographically. When you eventually summon the strength to open them and look down at him, you see him transfixed on you.

“Yeah, yeah just like that.” He grunts, “Fucking ride that dick, baby, yeah. Oh yeah just like that”

You are too wrapped up in the sensations, the sounds, of you and Javi, that you don’t notice the door opening. It’s heavy footsteps on the lush carpet that break you out of your trance. You whip your head round, the motion of your hips not faltering, as you make eye contact with him. Joel. At last.

He smiles a dark smile, his eyes wide as he takes in the scene before him. You realise how depraved it must all be from his perspective, the bejewelled Cross sticking to your tits with sweat as you bounce on this stranger’s cock.

“Don’t be rude, baby.” Are the first words out of his mouth. “Keep your eyes on what you’re doing.”

You break away from looking at him reluctantly, focussing your attention back on Javi, whose head is thrown back into the pillows, mouth falling open and eyes now closed in pleasure. You see sweat glistening on his throat and something urges you to lean down and lick a wide stripe up it, the salty taste beautiful on your tongue.

You try to pay attention to Javi and not let yourself get distracted by Joel’s movements. You hear the splash of liquid into a glass and realise you had observed his favourite whiskey earlier, right next to the champagne bucket. The signs of him had been all over the room already and you hadn’t noticed.

You continue to chase your pleasure, the alcohol supplying you with a rare confidence that left you able to perform for both men with little shame. You slow down your movements, feeling Javi deep inside you and grinding your clit against the dark curls at the base of him. Your moans become louder as you do so, rubbing against him rhythmically until you feel the tension of an orgasm building.

“I’m gonna cum.” You gasp, your voice strained.

“No you’re not.” Says the voice from behind you.

Javi’s eyes are open again, watching you, taking in every expression on your face. He smirks at Joel’s words and grips your thighs, preventing you from moving.

“Please-“ You gasp, unsure which of the two men you are pleading with. Your hips jerk involuntarily to chase the same sensation you had been creating previously but Javi keeps a firm grip on you.

“No. You’re going to step being selfish and ride him like a good girl.” Joel instructs. “And you’re gonna hold it. The only cock you’ll come on will be mine.”

You whimper pathetically, turning your head to look at Joel, who is sitting in the armchair I the corner of the room with a perfect view of the bed, hopeful that your wrecked expression might make him take pity on you.

“What did I tell you about manners already?” He scolds, unmoved by you. “Don’t look at me. Look at him.”

When you do, you find Javi’s expression is amused. He doesn’t add to the exchange, simply observing you and Joel’s dynamic, listening as the other man bends you to his will so easily.

You brace your hands on his chest once again and try to follow Joel’s instruction, abandoning the pleasure you had been giving yourself by grinding on his cock and going back to bouncing on it. You can’t find your rhythm and Javi helps you, thrusting his hips upwards into you.

Joel tuts disapprovingly as he watches, taunting, “You’ve forgotten how to ride a cock properly, huh? Need a lesson?”

You whine in frustration and embarrassment, giving up on your own movements and letting Javi control the pace from under you, rutting up into you with enough force that you still need to grasp at his chest to keep your balance. Your tits align with his face and he reaches up with his mouth to suck at one of your nipples.

You hear Joel moving and before you can wonder what he is doing, there are hands on you. His large palms wrap around your waist from behind, holding you tightly. Javi stops moving and Joel starts to control you, lifting you up and dropping you down harshly onto Javi’s cock. You let out a high pitched moan, to Joel’s displeasure.

“Be quiet.” He says. “This isn’t for you.”

He does it repeatedly, forcing you up and down again and again until you lose all control of your upper body, collapsing back into Joel’s wide frame. You bite your lip to hold back your moans, and then Javi helps you by reaching up and sticking a thumb into your mouth. You suck it obediently and you hear him curse under his breath.

“You gonna show him what else your mouth can do, baby?” Joel growls into your ear.

You nod eagerly and Joel lifts you off of Javi. You whimper, the sensation of being empty is unpleasant. Joel laughs darkly.

“Greedy little cunt.” He says. “Doesn’t wanna go a second without being filled up, huh?”

You ignore his teasing and get onto all fours, crawling between Javi’s legs, knowing that simultaneously, you are giving Joel the perfect view of your wet pussy. But he doesn’t touch you again and you hear his footsteps moving away from the bed. You are disappointed but after being chastised twice for looking at him, you manage to resist that urge and focus on Javi’s cock.

You start with just licking, gathering up the taste of your own juices from his shaft. You moan lightly and feel your pussy throb.

“Such a tease.” Javi says, tangling one hand into your hair. The other tucks behind his own head as he lounges back in the luxurious bedding, the image of nonchalance.

His comment doesn’t stop you, though. This is your style. You lick the tip, swirling round it with your tongue. He chases your mouth with a thrust of his hips but you pull your head back at the same time, stopping him from controlling the pace. He growls in displeasure but you choose to maintain the little semblance of control for a while longer. You replace your tongue with a hand, wrapping it around him and letting your mouth travel lower, teasing his balls with light kitten licks. He groans and you take one into your mouth fully, sucking lightly.

“Jesus-“ He sighs, bucking his hips up again involuntarily. You continue for a moment, swirling your tongue around it as it fills your mouth before releasing it with a pop and swapping the position of your mouth and hands once again.

Your hands massage his balls lightly and you finally take the head of his cock into your mouth. You lower your head slowly, very slowly, until it’s halfway in and hits the back of your throat, before rising off of it again just as slowly. He’s more patient than Joel, who would have put a stop to this much before now.

You do it again, your speed increasing only incrementally. He twitches inside your mouth and you feel his fingers gripping your hair tighter in a sign of his impatience. Soon, the game is up, and he starts forcing your head up and down urgently. You gag and splutter all over his cock but he doesn’t slow down. You are so wrapped up in it, that it takes you a while to register a weight on the bed behind you, until eventually, your attention is grabbed by a hard cock gliding up and down your wet seam.

You moan around Javi’s cock which leads him to relent in his pace a little, choosing to savour the feeling instead.

“Now you remember what I told you.” Joel says. “Don’t take your eyes off him.”

You can’t respond other than to try and nod which leads the tip of Javi’s cock to prod forcefully into the back of your throat. You gag again and feel your hole convulse, Joel grits his teeth.

He presses the tip into you slowly and within just an inch, you are so full. Full of Javi in your mouth and full of Joel now, too. You moan as he pushes further and further in, your sweet sounds sending vibrations around Javi’s cock that have him cursing incessantly.

Joel’s hands reach to take both of your hips and as soon as he has sheathed himself fully, he is pulling out again and setting an aggressive pace. This is his favourite position and you imagine it is only enhanced for him, as it is for you, by seeing your mouth all filled up too, rendering you incapable of speech, locked in place between the two men.

He hammers into you and you lose control, the blowjob becoming messier, spit dribbling all down Javi’s cock so that it is sliding in and out of your throat with little resistance. Neither of them limit the harshness of their actions, Joel pounding into your cunt and Javi into your throat. The sensation is unlike anything you have ever felt. You don’t think you can get any fuller until you feel Joel’s wet thumb prodding at your ass.

You cry out as he slips it inside you. He groans, low and satisfied. “You like that baby, huh? You like us taking up every single one of your slutty holes? Filthy whore that you are. Jesus-“

You moan at his words and Javi starts to twitch inside your mouth. He pulls your mouth off of him suddenly, not wanting to finish yet. You lower your head turning your cheek so that it rests on his thigh, your back arching in an extreme fashion. He just watches, rubbing himself gently as Joel continues to abuse both of your holes from behind.

Then eventually he pushes you off of him and moves, your eyes are closed but Joel watches what he is doing as he gets off the bed and stands at its edge, pumping his cock in his hand. Joel manoeuvres you so you are facing Javi again.

“Can I come in her mouth?” Javi asks Joel.

Joel lets out a mean laugh. “You don’t have to ask that, man. What else is a whore’s mouth good for?”

You whimper, your cunt throbbing and pulsing around Joel, unbelievably turned on by hearing them talk about you, not to you, like you aren’t even the third participant in this event.

Javi rubs his cock over your face, your cheeks, slapping at your chin with it. Just because he can. Your mouth falls open and he feeds the tip to you slowly, giving you a false sense of security before roughly slamming in the rest of the length. It forces you backwards, impaling you harder on Joel’s cock and the now two fingers which are exploring your asshole.

You feel as though you are the rope in some sick game of tug of war, the way the two of them pass you back and forth between them. Eventually you can’t even separate the sensations both men are giving you and you are left weak and boneless, just moving with the hammering tide that pulls you in and pushes you away again and again.

It’s Javi’s pace that falters first, moans and expletives escaping from his lips until his salty hot load fills your mouth. He half pulls out and spills the remainder over your cheeks and nose. It drips all over your face and he holds you up by your chin. His thumb drifts over the hot spend and directs it towards you mouth. You swallow it all and suck his fingers clean.

“Jesus, I could watch that all day.” He says. But he doesn’t, and he walks away from you after only a brief few seconds. With Javi satisfied, Joel flips you over so you are on your back. He lifts your feet, placing both ankles on his shoulders, ploughing you harder than you thought possible. You had imagined he was fucking you full force before, but like always, he ends up having just that little bit more to give.

You moan and whine helplessly, his pace unrelenting and his stamina downright cruel. You are unable to open your eyes, absolutely exhausted from him and Javi’s treatment. He doesn’t mind, satisfied with your performance already and happy to use you for his pleasure when you are in this state, soft and pliable to his every will.  You vaguely register the sound of the door opening and then closing, the two men offering noncommittal farewells to one another.

“Oh, my baby.” Joel is whispering gently. “You did so well for me. You impressed me so much, sweetheart, I’m so proud of you.”

His rambling seems to go on for a long while, but then again, you don’t know how much of a concept of time you even have left. Some of his words seem distant, like they’re coming to you through a filter. Some of them are so unbelievable that you discount them as just being part of a dream.

“I’m so proud of you, my sweet girl. Always so good for me. Always do so well for me. My sweet baby.”

He must think you’re asleep, talking like this. You still aren’t entirely convinced you are awake either.

Your name falls from his lips like a prayer as he finishes inside you. You think he holds you like that for longer than usual, until he is completely soft and slips out of you, both his and your juices leaking onto the bed. He cleans you up and he kisses you. He kisses you everywhere, your face, your neck, your chest, down your stomach. You keen towards him unconsciously, weak hands grabbing at whatever part of him you can reach and ending up tangled in the curls at the nape of his neck.

“What am I gonna do with you, my girl? Hmm?” He hums into the crook of your neck.

You must have fallen asleep, although you’re not sure for how long. When your eyes flutter open, it’s still dark, and you register a weight in the bed next to you. You turn towards it.

Joel’s eyes are already open and he is gazing at you intently.

“Hi.” He says.

“Hey.” You say. You can’t help the word from trailing off into a giggle. He renders you downright stupid.

He reaches out a hand to your cheek and strokes it with the pad of his thumb, before moving to push some hair behind your ear with his other fingers. These are his rare affectionate gestures, and whilst you aren’t experiencing them for the first time, they certainly aren’t frequent.

“It’s been a long year.” He says.

You never talk about the time you spend apart. All that matters is the precious, no, sacred, time that you do get together.

“It always is, for me.” You say. He tenses a little in response and you curse yourself silently for having said too much.

To your relief, he relaxes again and pulls your body closer to him. Warmth radiates from the place where your head meets his broad chest. He kisses into the top of your head, inhaling deeply the scent of your shampoo. It’s coconut. He kisses you again and again.

Suddenly, he speaks.

“I don’t know if I can do this again.” He says.

You freeze up. A chill runs down your spine. He wants to break off the arrangement? Somehow you feel blindsided, even though every year the possibility crosses your mind that he’ll finally do it.

Maybe that’s why he brought you Javi. Maybe he thought you would hit it off and you could just move on with him, offered up to you like meat on a platter for your own convenience. Your mind runs through the last few hours in an instant, looking for any sign, any hint from Joel that was this coming. You find none.

He, blissfully unaware of every thought racing around your head, continues, rubbing salt in the wound.

“I just- I just don’t think I can do it again. I’m sorry.” He repeats.

Your heart is racing, your stomach doing backflips. This was inevitable. He’s probably met someone else. Someone who he wants more from than what he wants from you. Someone his own age who thinks the same things he does. Someone who understands the references and jokes that fly over your head. Someone who is the opposite of everything that you are insecure about. Someone powerful and equally matched for him.

But then he speaks again, quieter this time. “Listen baby, the waiting it’s just- I can’t do it anymore. How could one night a year ever be enough? I need ‘em all.”

Oh my god. You honestly thought you must have been dreaming for a moment, unable to process his words and reconcile them with actual reality.

He is silent for a long while and you realise he must be waiting on a response, but you can’t find words.

“I- I-“

You hesitate and he cuts you off. His voice is guarded now.

“No, yeah. You don’t have to explain. It’s whatever. I figured you must have someone else anyway. Didn’t wanna assume but… Yeah. It figures.”

“No.” You say quickly. “There’s no one else. There hasn’t been anyone else for- for years.”

A silence grows again. And eventually, you are first to fill it.

“How could there be anyone else?” You say. “I just stopped trying to find anyone else. It’s always been you for me, Joel. No point trying to fight that.” Your voice trails off to a whisper.

He puts a thumb under your chin, raising it so your eyes meet his for the first time during the exchange. His brown irises sparkle, lighter than you have ever seen them. He presses his lips to yours and kisses you desperately, muttering practically intelligibly about “My baby. God why didn’t I just ask sooner? My sweet baby. All mine.”

You drift off to sleep again, a tangle of limbs, breathing each other in. You don’t know what will happen in the morning, but at least you know that this time, it won’t be a year until you see Joel again.

Thanks for reading! Masterlist

[wildemaven]

Your job as night school teacher becomes more interesting when a new teacher takes over the classroom across the hall from you. Late night exchanges bleed into early morning conversations. He leaves you notes and breathless the more you get to know him

[pinklemonadesociety]

This is husband Javier Peña after he retired from the DEA.

[crossingthedreams]

shaking — javier peña x f!reader

a/n: this is day 13 — shaking, of @angstober, and i’m late with day 12, too, hehe. i wish i was better at time management, lol. anyway, as always, feel free to dm me and let me know what you think! 

masterlist

word count: 670

warnings: angst, descriptions of anxiety, unspecified mental illness, separation/break-up, established relationship.

TRIGGER WARNING: anxiety, mental illness. proceed with care.

You woke up shaking once more. 

The nightmares were very common, and it was usual for you to wake up drenched in sweat, shaking to the bone. 

On nights like these, which were most nights, you reached out to the other side of your bed and your heart would ache less and go slowly back to its normal pace when you found Javier there. 

Your man was a light sleeper, so most times he would hold you before you were even awake yet. Other times, when you didn’t scream yourself and him awake, and woke up quietly, but terrified, you would wake him up, reluctantly. He told you a million times it was okay to wake him, that he was there for you. Somehow, after a while, you found yourself believing that. 

Tonight, things were different. Tonight, Javier wasn’t there and being alone in that house made everything worse. 

You practically crawled out of bed, vision blurry, and found your way to the bathroom. No lights, you couldn’t handle any lights right now.

Where was he? Why would he say he’d be there if he wasn’t? Why was it that you always found a way to push him away until he couldn’t handle you? The questions, most of which you would have forgotten about in the morning, kept pounding in your brain.

Where was he? 

You were on your knees close to the toilet. The coolness of the toilet began to calm you down, as disgusting as that sounds. You embraced it, head leaning on the seat. The vomit came easily, but it didn’t make you feel any better.

Crying whilst throwing up was a herculean task. 

At least you had it in you to remove your hair from your face before.

Your body slowly began to calm itself down. The street lights coming in through the bathroom window, the coolness of the floor and the toilet, the fact that you didn’t have any more tears to cry — it all made you slow down, and eventually, sleep found you, still on the floor. 

Hours later, Javier Peña was drunkenly making his way into his house. A buddy was retiring, and the small going away party became a full blow out night. 

Javier called your name when he walked in, half expecting you to still be awake waiting for him. “Cariño?”, he called, walking into your shared room. 

His heart stopped and his entire body froze when he realized you weren’t there. He sobered up in record speed, looking for his gun in belt. It wasn’t a good idea to let an inebriated agent with a gun, but there he was. 

He tiptoed into the bathroom, gun in hand still, using his body to open the door. 

The sight of you, curled up in a ball on the floor, broke his heart. He put the gun away and kneeled in front of you.

Javier thought that he should’ve known better, should’ve been there. But there was a part of him that resented you very deeply. He couldn’t even have one night? Why can’t she be more independent? Is this how your relationship would play out forever? His mind was racing, and the alcohol was no ally of his right now. 

He sat down next to you, moving his hand to take a lock of hair from your face but stopping at the very last second. He didn’t want to wake you, so he just laid there, which was barely possible due to the small size of the bathroom.

On the cold floor, the two of you slept until morning. 

When the light of a new day woke Javier up, you were still asleep, but somehow closer to him. Most questions from the night before had disappeared from his brain. All but one, in fact. Why can’t she be more independent?, Javier thought. 

He didn’t want to leave. He loved you. Yet, somehow, that didn’t seem like it was enough anymore. 

[lokischocolatefountain]

Picture || Mister Miller

Part 2 of Mister Miller. Read Part 1 here.

Fandom: The Last of Us (HBO)

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Rating: 18+ (masturbation, nudes, looking at someone’s nudes without consent, girthy age gap, boyfriend’s dad!Joel, pervy Joel, potential future infidelity, no outbreak)

Word Count: 960 words

Summary: Joel knows he shouldn’t, especially with the guilt of his shameful secret sitting heavy in his chest. But there are so many pictures of you and he is just a man.

A/N: Day 1 was so much fun! I hope everyone is having a good December. Thank you to everyone who reblogged, commented, and liked. It means a lot 🥹. Now here’s our favorite old man for day 2. Tomorrow will be my OG, the one who got me into this Pedro Pascal mess- Javier Peña... Keep a look out for more in the Masterlist. Aaaand leave your girl a comment please🥺🥺

“You should get a new one,” Matt said, typing something up real fast on his laptop.

Joel snorted and said, “Sure, I’ll sell that little computer of yours and buy myself a nice iPhone with the four cameras and shit.”

“It’s three cameras and a LiDAR scanner, dad,” he snarked, finally unlocking his spare phone and sliding it across the table to Joel.

“What’s that? Like the scanner on printers?” He asked, confused once more by technology. The kind of things that came out these days were too much for him to be able to wrap his mind around. Chat GPT, hyaluronic acid, iPads, this fucking scanner thing.

“It’s this sensor that projects invisible lasers and gets data on how far every single thing is. And that way, it can map an entire room,” he said, using gestures to mimic laser beams shooting into a room.

“Sounds like it’ll be more useful in construction. The fuck you need that for?”

He shrugged and went back to his work, the clacking of keys filling up the room once more. Whatever. He needed a spare phone to replace his shit blackberry Sarah got him eons ago. The thing had been through a lot with him and honestly, he couldn’t be too mad at it for dying on him. In all the years he had it, he had taken a few pictures here and there of his kids. But everything else in his gallery was filled with pictures of worksites. Broken pumps, proof to send clients that they were at the site that day, pictures of sample tiles to show clients… Nothing personal. It was the only thing he did on that phone other than making calls.

As he retired for the day, he thought to learn about his new old phone a little. See if the camera was any better. He propped a pillow up against the headboard and leaned back. When he finally found the camera app, he took a couple pictures of his room. Looking back at them, he was a little glad that his old phone died. The camera on this thing was better. It was newer than his old one, so maybe that was it. He didn’t have complaints about his old one, but damn this was it. It was so fucking good.

He swiped his thumb against the screen, looking at pictures, not stopping when he went back to pictures of his son. Pictures of him partying that he had never shown his old man before. He smiled, going through pictures of a side of his son’s life he never knew. Shit parents never got to see.

His heart leapt out at the next swipe, the screen filled with a picture of a nude woman.

You, he realized as he looked at the face. You had a smile on, the same sweet one you always sent him when you exchanged pleasantries and thanked him for letting you crash at his place for the summer. But the picture of you was anything but sweet.

He swiped to the previous picture, an identical one. Except you were biting your bottom lip and looking at him—at the camera with a sultry gaze. His mouth watered as he focused on your tits. Fuuuck they were good ones, he had to admit. He wasn’t a boob man. Or an ass man, frankly. He was just bad at the whole thing. But yours ignited something in him.

He found an entire album full of nude pictures of you. Pictures you posed for. There was a variety. You nude, you in bikinis, in figure hugging dresses that drove him crazier than the first category. In high heels, sideways pictures of your reflection where you stuck your ass out. One with you sucking on a fucking popsicle. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He’d told himself it was wrong. He’d found his pleasure in others. But fuck he couldn’t get his mind off of you. And now here you were, naked on his phone without your knowledge.

As he wrapped his hand around his hardening cock, he knew that he’d lost the fight. He should not be doing this. But just this once. It was his phone now after all. A justification. Weak, but it was all he had in the moment.

He pumped his cock, eyes trained on the pictures of you. He swiped back and forth between the pictures, desperate to have you in all your forms. In the cocktail dresses and the ratty old t-shirts. Wearing the bright red lipstick and the soft pink one. He imagine you, whimpering quietly the way you did that night when he found you fucking yourself in his living room.

He groaned, his cock twitching at the recollection of his creepy voyeurism. He wondered what you sounded like when you had a man. When you didn’t have to rely on your fingers, but had a good girth cock thrusting in and out. When you had a finger rubbing your clit softly. He imagined his large hand full with your breast, his lips sucking on the other one.

On your knees, right here in his bedroom, his cock in your mouth instead of in his fist. As your licked his balls with his cock deep in your throat in his mind’s eye, he exploded, coating his hand in sticky white ropes of his cum. He groaned and pulled out a few tissues, wiping off the mess you’d created.

His perverted mind imagined you still there, eagerly licking up his release. His mind was no longer pleased with such sinful images of you. The clarity that came after his orgasm tasted bitter on his tongue.

He would have to delete the photos. Tomorrow. He’d do it tomorrow.

.

.

.

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main masterlist

[thetriumphantpanda]

The sexual tension between the prompts ‘i shouldn't allow myself to get this close to you’ and ‘say you want me, and i’m yours’

Please give this to us with Javier Peña

(Also these prompts are so Javier Peña coded, I couldn’t think about anyone but him)

Nonnie, you are not alone in not being able to think about anyone else but Javier Peña for these prompts because I'm right there with you.

Firstly, I apologise - I got TOTALLY carried away with this and managed nearly 3K words for this prompt. Secondly, I apologise for what this is going to do to you all.

Pairing | Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word Count | 2.7K (Oooops, right?)

Porn with plot below the cut. Mention of religion, drinking, smoking, and description of unprotected piv sex and oral (f receiving). ENJOY.

Javier Peña is in trouble, there is no denying it. When he came back to Laredo after the shitstorm in Colombia he’d wanted a quiet life. Helping Chucho around the ranch, maybe getting in his truck to take weekend trips to places he’d never been before, all the things he thought he was supposed to do with his extremely early retirement from the DEA. He hadn’t banked on the daughter of the towns pastor bounding into his life and testing every ounce of resolve he’d ever had. 

He wasn’t a religious man. There was no way he could be with what he’d seen or done in South America, but when Chucho had insisted on him attending church with him in the week that he’d come back, spouting something about needing to get back into town life instead of hiding himself away, his eyes had landed straight on the innocent girl sat in the front row, hands folded on her lap, listening intently to what the pastor was saying. 

“Since when did we have a new pastor?” Javier had asked when they’d made it outside, cigarette firmly between his lips despite telling himself he’d give up. 

“Moved in a few months ago,” His dad had replied, “Seem a nice family, I think their daughter is twenty-five, just back from college.” 

He’d nodded in understanding, trying not to let his eyes drag down your figure too much as you stood with your father at the door of the church to shake hands with everyone filing out to go about their Sunday business. He couldn’t help it though. You were shorter than him with hair falling around your face, framing it perfectly. That day you’d dressed in a modest white dress, falling just below the knee with sandals and he couldn’t help but compare you to an angel in his mind. An angel that he wanted so desperately to corrupt from the second he'd laid eyes on you. 

“Bad idea son,” Chucho had warned, “Of all the people in this town you could look at like that, this has to be the worst one.” 

He really had tried to heed his father’s advice. He knew it would be a terrible idea. A girl like you needed a straight and narrow man, someone to put a ring on your finger, buy you a house with a white picket fence and have babies. He was not that man. He would never be that man. However, from that day forward he’d seen you more and more. 

The first time he struck up a conversation with you was in the grocery store. Chucho had sent him into town to pick up some ingredients for dinner and he’d found you with your head in the freezer section, two pints of ice cream in front of you, trying to decide which one you wanted. 

“The mango one is my personal favourite.” He’d offered his advice, feeling like he’d been shot through the chest when you turned to look at him, big, beautiful eyes with an innocence to them he’d not seen in a long time. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had mango ice cream before.” You’d replied. 

“Well then, you have to try it and then you have to let me know what you think.” 

He watched as you smiled at him, setting down the other pint of vanilla ice cream to put the mango in your shopping basket. 

“I don’t think we’ve met properly,” Javier spoke, “I’m Javier.” He held out his hand which you took, immediately overwhelmed with how soft your skin was and how small your hand was in his. 

You introduced yourself, “I think I’ve seen you at church.” 

“I have to admit I’m not a religious man, I just go because my father insists,” He’d admitted, “Probably not the best thing to say to the pastor’s daughter though.”  You’d laughed, “Between me and you, I’m not religious either.” 

He made a motion that he was zipping his lips which made you laugh even further. A sound so sweet he’d convinced himself he needed to do everything he could so he could hear it at much as possible. 

After that he’d found himself running into you more often. He’d make excuses to go to town in the hopes of running into you, he’d figured out your routine – you had lunch with friends at the diner on a Tuesday, always went to pick up ice-cream on a Friday evening and were always at church on Sunday. He’d even joined the library, figuring out you went on a Saturday afternoon to spend an hour picking out a new book and reading the first few pages sat on one of the benches there – something he’d started doing to just so he could spend time with you. He knew he was in too deep. He knew he shouldn’t be trying to get close to you, but the more he learnt about the less he could help himself. 

His father had always been a perceptive man and he knew what was going on. Why else would his son be rushing to shower in the middle of the day, changing into shirts that weren’t covered in mud and full of holes to disappear into town for hours on end. It came to a head one Saturday evening when they were sat on the front porch drinking beers together. 

“So, are you actually ever going to ask her out, or just follow her around like a lost puppy?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Javi had replied, feigning innocence. 

“We both know you’re not that stupid,” He’d stated, “Although I always thought you’d be smarter than to think a guy like you would be good for a girl like her.” 

Javier would have been offended but it was true. Colombia had traced a darkness through him that he couldn’t shake. Waking up in cold sweats from the nightmares, glaring at the boats he saw riding down the river knowing exactly where they were going and with what on board, remembering all the people who had died, and for what? When he wasn’t with you he was closed off and hard and did he really want that to rub off on you? 

“I don’t mean to say you’re a bad person son, far from it,” Chucho had added, “But you’re different since you came back and there something in you that isn’t good for her, isn’t good for you.” 

He’d wanted to tell Chucho that he was sure you could help to heal him. That the sunshine and joy you exuded at every moment would be enough to take away the pain he was holding in, but it was too much to ask of you and he knew it. It wasn’t your job to fix his broken shell and he knew better than to ask. 

From that day forward he’d stopped going to town so much. He’d returned his last library book and not gone back and his appearance at church was now pretty much non-existent. Chucho had even stopped asking him to go into town for groceries, opting to do it himself.

He knew he couldn’t avoid you forever, but he’d hoped by pulling away that whatever attachment you’d both formed to each other would dissipate. How wrong he had been. 

***

The end of summer had arrived, soon it would be harvesting time and then Christmas would soon follow but not until the community came together for the end of summer cookout. Javier had thought about not going but Chucho had insisted. Said people had been asking after him and that he needed to show his face to prove he was still alive if nothing else. 

It was warm and he was sipping a beer when he spotted you, stood with a group of your friends with a can of soda in your hand. You’d waved at him when your eyes met, and he’d lifted his bottle in acknowledgement before going back to the conversation he had found himself wound up in with his father and another rancher about the types of feed they were giving to their cattle. 

It wasn’t until later that evening when he was fishing around the barrel for another beer that you appeared next to him. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” You’d said bluntly. 

“I haven’t, I’ve just been busy.”

“Right, okay,” He knew you could see right through him, “You’ve definitely been avoiding me.” 

“Yeah, okay, I’ve been avoiding you.” He finally admitted. 

“Why?” You’d asked. 

God why were you so different? Any other woman he’d spent time with would have taken the hint and left, but not you. You wanted your explanation, seemingly unfazed with what it would be. 

“Just seemed like the right thing to do.” He shrugged. 

For some reason he’d expected you to be upset but you’d mirrored his shrug, seemingly accepting the stupid excuse for an explanation. He went to turn but felt your hand grab him, squeezing it before turning and walking away, revealing that you’d left a small scrap of paper in his palm. 

He looked closely at it and found an address scrawled on it. He knew exactly where it was. The address for the park just outside of town. He knew because when he’d been here at school it was where all the teenage couples had gone to have privacy from prying eyes. There was a big tree at the end of the park which had famously been the place many of his classmates, including him had lost their virginity. Next to the address, the words 9pm tonight. Were scrawled next to it. He shouldn’t go, he really shouldn’t, but then when has Javier ever listened to logic? 

***

You were already there when he arrived in his truck, leant against the tree waiting for him. He cut the truck off and switched his headlights off, grateful that the sun was still setting, giving you both enough light to see each other. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually come.” You admitted as he walked to you. 

“I considered not coming.” Was his own admission. 

“Why did you?” Came the next question. 

“Probably something to do with leaving my moral compass at the airport when I arrived in Colombia and never going back for it.” 

“Lucky Colombia,” You mused, “I’d like to see what that actually means.” 

“Hermosa,” He groaned, “You can’t do this to me.” But he was stepping towards you instead of stepping away. 

“It’s actually all your fault Javier,” You smirked, moulding yourself into the tree further as he stepped towards you, “If you hadn’t talked to me about mango ice cream or joined the library just to sit in silence with me and read we’d both be fine,” You looked up at him through your eyelashes as he came to stop right in front of you – the slightest movement and he’d be pressed up against you, “Now all you need to do is kiss me.” 

“I shouldn't allow myself to get this close to you.” He spoke, mostly to himself than anything else. 

“Say you want me and I’m yours, Javi.” 

If he wasn’t already damned to hell he was now. His lips were on yours in the blink of an eye, hands cupping either side of your face as you opened your mouth for him, letting his tongue into your mouth as you groaned. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed your body against his and he let out a similar noise to you, moving his hands from your face to the swell of your ass through your dress to pull you as close to him as he possibly could. 

You pulled away from his mouth, pushing him back slightly to lean back against the tree. He watched with fire in his eyes as you pulled up the skirt of your dress, revealing to him that you were bare under your dress. 

He fell to his knees in front of you, not caring about the dust and dirt his jeans would inevitably pick up, “Querida, eres el diablo.” He’d spoken before placing his hands at your hips, watching you shuffle your feet apart. 

His mouth was like white hot heat when it touched your pussy. All those nights spent in your room touching yourself over what it would feel like for Javier to finally touch you were over, and it was better than you ever could have hoped. His tongue was quick and precise, finding your clit and homing in on it in seconds, switching between quick flicks and circles to taking it into his mouth and sucking. Your head was thrown back against the tree in pleasure, your hand threaded into his hair to keep his mouth exactly where you needed it. Within minutes you were cumming on his tongue with his name falling from your lips in a moan. 

Your chest was heaving in an attempt to catch your breath when Javi rose from his knees in front of you. He sealed his mouth back to yours, letting his tongue tangle with yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You took hold of his belt loops and pulled him towards you, making light work of undoing the button on his jeans and taking the zip down before he took over, pushing them and his underwear down to pool at his ankles as he lifted you up to wrap your legs around his hips. 

“This isn’t… I mean, sorry this is going to sound weird, but this isn’t your first time, right?” Javier spoke, his cock nudging at your weeping entrance whilst he had you pressed against the tree with your legs wrapped around him. 

You threw your head back in a laugh, of course he’d ask that right now as his cock was almost inside of you, “Javier, I’m just from a religious family, I’m not a nun,” You shifted your hips as an invitation, “Now please for the love of God, put your cock inside me.” 

He did exactly as you’d asked, sheathing his cock in your pussy in one straight motion that had you crying out his name into the ever-darkening night. If you’d have asked Javi if when he pictured the first time, he fucked you it would have been up against a tree, completely bare with nothing but the birds to keep you company he’d have laughed. A girl like you deserved a bed, being fucked by candlelight after he tipped you over the edge with his fingers, then his mouth and then both together before slipping inside of you. He couldn’t say he was complaining though. 

Your tight pussy was clenching around him as he thrusted into you, his hand at the swell of your ass to keep you upright. The moans falling from your lips were scandalous and anytime you mixed his name into them he thought he would lose it. You’d begged him to go harder and faster and then begged him to kiss your neck. At one point the straps of your dress fell from your shoulders which in turn made the material fall away from your chest and his lip had latched onto your nipple before you even knew what was happening. 

“Hermosa, I’m gonna cum, you need to tell me where you want me.” 

“Let me go.” You breathed out. 

He did, letting himself slip from your delicious wet heat before setting your feet on the ground. He was almost disappointed until he watched you drop to your knees in front of him and open your mouth.

“Maldito infierno.” Javi whispered to the sky, before locking his eyes with your own as he pumped his cock with his fist. 

It took no time at all for him to let out a low groan and cum on your tongue. He’d done his best to make sure it landed in your mouth but his cum painted your cheeks and your chin by the time he was done. His eyes never left yours as he watched you swallow what he’d giving you in your mouth and then watched as your fingers scooped what was left on the rest of your face, devouring that too. 

Maybe you hadn’t been the innocent little thing he’d thought you were after all. 

[mandoalorian]

but daddy i love him!

Based on the song by Taylor Swift.

Javier Peña x F Reader

WC: 1500

Warnings: abusive parents, mentions of slut shaming

Masterlist

Please reblog if you love Javi and/or Taylor!

In the heart of Colombia's tumultuous landscape, Javier Peña found himself entwined in a love affair that defied all logic and reason. He was the seasoned DEA agent, battle-worn and weary, while you were the enigmatic beauty who danced through life with a reckless abandon that both fascinated and terrified him. Your love was a whirlwind, sweeping you up in its tempestuous embrace, defying the boundaries of convention and societal norms. As whispers of disapproval echoed through the streets, you clung to each other, determined to forge your own path.

From the moment you met, sparks flew like wildfire, igniting a passion that neither could extinguish. Javier was drawn to your fiery spirit, your fearlessness in the face of danger, while you found solace in his strength, his unwavering dedication to his cause.

Before you decided to tell your family about your relationship, you and Javier embarked on a journey to your childhood home. The drive was long, the miles stretching out before you like an endless ribbon of asphalt. But with Javier by your side, the miles seemed to melt away, replaced by the warmth of his presence and the promise of a new beginning.

As you pulled up to the familiar house that held so many memories, you felt a sense of trepidation wash over you. Javier reached over and squeezed your hand reassuringly, his touch grounding you in the present moment.

“They— they’ve never supported me, my family,” you admitted, flushing with heat as you stepped up to your porch. It wasn’t so much shame that filled you, than it was regret. You wished you’d told Javier this sooner.

“You are doing the right thing cariño, telling them the truth. Telling them about us. If they don’t like it then that’s on them, but they’ll never come between our love.” Javier brushed his thumb over your jaw and planted a chaste kiss atop your lips.

You hummed and smiled against his mouth, letting yourself linger before pulling away. Javier was right. God, your family drove you crazy. They drove you manic. And you figured, fuck it, if they don’t like you and Javier then that would be it. Fuck them. You were happy and you deserved this.

Together, you walked up the path to the front door, your heart pounding in your chest with each step. The door swung open, revealing the familiar faces of your family members, their expressions a mix of surprise and curiosity.

And then, as you sat in your childhood home, surrounded by familiar faces, you took a deep breath and prepared to reveal your secret...

But first, you sat down at the dinner table with Javier and your parents. Your father was a newly retired DEA agent and had for sure heard about Javier’s reputation. In fact, he was the one who warned you about Javier in the first place. And now, with his greatest fears realised, Javier was sat at the forefront of the table facing your dad, twirling the pasta around his silverware, idly.

"Mom, Dad, there's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice trembling slightly.

“Let me guess, you’re sleeping with Peña?” Your dad grumbled crudely. “Well, he’s just had about every girl in Bogota, I suppose it was about time he got around to you.”

Javier made a fist but stayed silent. He didn’t have to speak, because you would defend his honour.

“I’m in love with him, daddy.” You said quietly. You weren’t going to fight it. You’d spend your whole life fighting for your parents love and celebration, but now that you had Javi, you didn’t have to anymore.

“You can’t be in love with him. He’s a killer.” Your mother spat.

“Acting like you didn’t marry a killer too, mama,” you quickly countered, narrowing your eyebrows. “I love him.”

With a sleuth of slurs leaving your father’s mouth, about how you were a slut and a disgrace to the family, you decided it was time for you to go.

But not without a bang.

“And there’s something else you should know… I’m having his baby.”

Javier’s eyes snapped to meet yours. Your mother’s complexion greyed and you thought your father might burst a blood vessel. And then, you couldn’t help but smile. You couldn’t hold the joke for too long. You saw your father near cardiac arrest.

“No I’m not! But you should see your faces.” You laughed and Javier felt a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. Your sudden burst of laughter was tinged with mania as you stood up, chair scraping against the oak floor, and grabbed your purse.

Your family stared at you in disbelief, their expressions shifting from shock to confusion. But you could see the relief in their eyes, a fleeting glimpse of understanding that you knew would never last.

As you left your childhood home behind, the weight of your deception heavy on your shoulders, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. For you had tested their loyalty and found it lacking, confirming what you had always known deep down.

And as you walked away, hand in hand with Javier, you knew that you were bound together by something far stronger than blood or obligation. You were bound by love, a love that would endure against all odds.

Years passed, and your love only grew stronger with each passing day. Despite the challenges you faced, you stood by each other's side, weathering every storm that came your way.

And then, on a warm summer day, you stood together on a secluded beach, the sun setting in a blaze of orange and gold. With the sound of the waves crashing against the shore as your witness, you exchanged vows of love and commitment, promising to stand by each other for all eternity.

It was just the two of you, alone in your love, with no one else to bear witness to your union. For you had learned that true love didn't need the approval of others, that it was enough to have each other.

And as you danced beneath the stars, lost in each other's embrace, you knew that you had found your happily ever after, against all odds.