Suburban Sparks
Pairing: Javier Peña x Steve's Little Sister Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: What you think is another lame party hosted by your lame brother turns into an unforgettable night with the man you've had a crush on for the past eight years. Warnings: getting to fuck your teenage crush, smut, unprotected p in v sex (reader is on the pill and both are tested), oral f receiving, age gap (Javi's around 40, reader's in her twenties), almost getting caught by your big brother because Javier Peña is too good at oral, alcohol, green shirt muzzle, spot the "juno" by sabrina reference. Words: 6,150 Thank you to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.
Masterlist
“Honey!” your mom happily exclaims from the kitchen table. “Stevey sent us mail!”
Stevey. Your brother’s currently hunting down one of the world’s most dangerous drug dealers and yet she still calls your older brother his childhood nickname.
“Oh?” you feign interest as you take a seat and pour yourself a bowl of cereal.
“Look how handsome he is here,” your mom says, holding up the photo. Yeah, okay, there’s your brother, he looks the same. But then, your eyes move to who’s standing next to him, and you almost spill the milk.
Standing next to him is the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. Wow. He looks like a vintage model of a car, out of place in his tight jeans and yellow aviators, but cool in a classic way. You’ve never liked mustaches, and yet, it works on him. Tall and fit, with wide shoulders and a broad chest. Your fingers tingle at the thought of running them through his hair.
“Is that… Javier?” you ask, trying to sound nonchalant.
“I’m sure it is,” your mom muses. "He's handsome isn’t he?”
“I guess,” you shrug, all of those acting classes you took in middle school sure have paid off now as you pretend to not be totally enamored with the man in the photo.
Your mom chatters on about Steve's latest exploits, but you're only half-listening, you’re too busy thinking about Javier. You wonder what his voice sounds like, if his hands are as strong as they look, how his mustache would feel against your skin.
You visit the photo album with the picture of Javier often. And on a day when you’re feeling particularly brave, you take the photo from the page. And then—rip. Stevey is gone, leaving Javier alone. You tuck the photo into your pocket before sliding it into your bedside drawer.
Years pass, the photo of Javier still sits in the bottom of your bedside drawer, as if it’s almost a token of your girlhood, of your innocence, of your teenage dreams. It moves with you from crappy apartment to crappy apartment. Sure, it feels a little pathetic to hold on to the secret connection with a man you’ve never met, but a girl never forgets her first crush on an older man.
Steve sometimes mentions him, bringing snippets of information about Javier. “Javi’s still chasing cartels,” he might casually say over dinner, making your heart skip a beat. Or, “Peña’s thinking about transferring back to the States,” and suddenly you think about actually meeting him.
You go to college, date a few people along the way—an artist named Adam, a burlesque dancer named Rachel, a fellow actor named Trevor. You even spend three solid years with Lincoln, the sensible guy your parents just loved… but none of them ever quite measured up to the mysterious DEA agent who exists only in sporadic mentions and that faded photo.
Some nights, after a couple glasses of wine, you still pull out the photo and think about him. What is he like now? Does he still dress like his closet is from the decade prior? What makes him laugh? Does he laugh often? Does he hold anyone in his arms at night? What would it feel like to be in those strong arms? Scenarios dance through your head—maybe he visits Steve, or you randomly meet him at a coffee shop. In your mind, he always notices you, and always feels the exact pull you feel. A girl can dream, even when she’s an adult with a job and an apartment.
Steve and you have always lived very different lives. While he was the star athlete in school, you avoided sports, choosing the stage instead. While he was hunting down Pablo Escobar and saving the world from the cocaine king, you were secretly learning how to grow marijuana plants in your closet hidden from your parents. While he’s happily married, settled down, and raising your niece, you’ve just broken up with Lincoln, because he wanted kids and a future you weren’t ready for.
You climb into your beat-up car that you really only rely on to get to Steve’s house for his and Connie’s annual harvest bonfire. The world turns from narrow streets lined with brick buildings to wide roads with large homes and playgrounds. Buses and pedestrians are traded for SUV’s and minivans.
Steve only lives twenty minutes away from your tiny apartment in the Adams Morgan section of DC. Your kitchen is the size of his closet. Whenever you take the drive to his perfect suburban home, you feel like you’re traveling to a different world, especially once you pull up to his house. His pristine suburban castle with a driveway bigger than your whole apartment, feels like a whole world away, not less than a half hour.
The wooden gate creaks as you push it open, the sound immediately catching Olivia’s attention.
“Auntie!” she shouts, running toward you with her arms flailing in excitement.
“Hey, Liv!” You hug her tight and kiss the top of her head as she giggles.
“Hey kid!” Connie calls from the patio, making her way down the steps carrying two bottles of beer.
“Evening. One of those for me?” you ask.
“Nope, we had some help setting up,” she tilts her head towards the gazebo. Steve sits next to… Javier Peña. Crap.
Suddenly, you're hyper-aware of your outfit: an oversized flannel thrown over a plain white tee, faded jeans, and your scuffed Doc Martens. You dressed for a lame party hosted by your brother, never thinking the man that used to star in all of your teenage fantasies would be here.
Your heart races as you approach the gazebo and try to keep your cool. Javier's eyes meet yours, and for a moment you forget how to breathe. He's even more handsome in real life, his mustache is perfectly groomed with sideburns that frame his chiseled jaw. Fuck, he’s so much better than that ripped picture that lives in your bedside table drawer.
"Hey sis," Steve calls out, breaking the spell. "This is Javier Peña, my old workmate in Colombia."
Yeah Steve—you know all about him.
Javier offers a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes… you feel so intimidated. "Nice to meet you," he says, his voice low and gravelly.
You manage a nod, suddenly at a loss for words… something nobody would ever say about you. "Yeah, hi, nice to meet you too,” you respond darting your eyes every which way to avoid looking at him.
His eyes stay locked on you, you notice a slight movement in his jaw as he looks you up and down. Your body heats at his assessment.
Steve breaks the tension with his voice.” Javi had a job interview at the office today. We couldn't let him stay at some boring hotel, now could we?"
“Mighty kind of you,” Javi says, his eyes still on you. You nervously shuffle on your feet, at a loss of words, trying to not show your inner panic.
Steve clears his throat, catching Javier’s attention. “Where’s Lincoln?”
“Oh, yeah, we broke up,” you shrug, taking a seat across from Javier, trying to loosen your shoulders.
“What?!” Steve exclaims. “I liked him!”
You roll your eyes. "Well, I can give him your number if you’re that upset. He’s single now."
A small chuckle leaves Javier’s lips.
BEEP. BEEP. Steve’s watch goes off and he checks it with a frown. "I gotta go take care of the chili. You two going to be alright?”
“Well manage,” Javier answers, leaning back into the chair.
Fuck, this is… this is something you used to dream about. Sitting across from Javier Peña, just the two of you. Except in those dreams you were a hell of a lot cooler, now you can barely look over at him, your focus remaining on the frayed edge of your plaid shirt.
The silence stretches between the two of you.
“So,” he says, breaking the tenseness, “you broke up with your boyfriend recently?”
You meet his gaze. “Yeah. He wanted kids, the whole future thing. I wasn’t into it.”
Javier nods, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "And what are you into?"
You swallow hard, feeling your cheeks burn hot under Javier's intense gaze. What the hell are you into? God, if he only knew the fantasies you've had about him over the years. That’s what you’re really into. You use your improv lessons to good use.
“Surviving this lame suburban party hosted by my lame brother and his patient wife who’s way out of his league.”
Javier laughs. “Connie said I’d like you.”
You raise an eyebrow, feeling a bit bolder now that you’ve made him laugh twice. “And was she right?”
“According to Steve, she’s never wro—”
“Auntie!” Olivia’s excited voice interrupts as she barrels toward you. “Come see my new dollhouse! It’s soooo big!” She grabs at your hand, tugging with all her might.
“Sorry, Javier, I have important aunt things to take care of,” you say standing up and letting Olivia pull you toward the house.
The party is in full swing. Steve’s friends are all here, standing in little circles with their polished wives.
They regale each other with tales of their kids—who’s excelling at school, who got the karate trophy. Someone is getting new hardwood floors, someone’s leaving for Bermuda on Tuesday. It’s a far cry from your parties with your friends, watching cartoons, discussing war crimes, and smoking joints on the tiny fire escape.
You glance over at Javier who lingers near the edge of the firepit. He looks as out of place as you, standing quietly, arms folded, watching the crowd. He’s listening, but not engaging—you know he’s just as uninterested in these tales of suburban bliss as you are.
You catch his eye for a moment, he tugs the edge of mouth up in a knowing smirk, as if you’re both in on the same joke. Two outsiders in this picture perfect world.
Connie breezes by with a tray of appetizers, smiling warmly at everyone as she plays the perfect hostess. She’s good at this, making it all look easy. You do admire her for it, but it all feels so stifling to you. You take a long sip from your hot apple cider and bourbon, hoping the alcohol will help soothe all the thoughts of how you’re not part of this world.
You lean against the patio railing, watching as one of Steve’s friends launches into yet another story about their perfect child and their achievements. Javier comes and stands beside you, his presence making you feel almost lightheaded. You take another drink.
“Not exactly our crowd, huh?” you ask under your breath, loud enough for only him to hear.
He chuckles, shaking his head. “You could say that.”
You take another sip, glancing up at him. “Kind of feels like we’re in a brochure for suburbia, doesn’t it?”
Javier looks over at you, your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him glowing in the flicker of the orange flames. “Definitely.”
“Think there’s a section on how to survive these kinds of things?”
He nods.
Another stretch of silence is shared between the two of you. Yours and his eyes observing all of the exploits of the perfect couples from afar.
Steve’s laughter echoes across the yard. “Hey! Peña, come on over here! This guy used to live near Laredo!”
Javier looks over at you and with an apologetic nod and walks towards Steve’s group with measured movements, like he’s already preparing to blend into the conversation.
The party begins to die down. You’ve been in a circle of conversation with Connie and a few of her friends. Connie’s warmth helps you fit in better, along with the warm apple cider and bourbon. You feel good and happy from all the spiked cider, like you can fit in a little more with Connie and her fellow perfect moms and wives.
Your watch reads 11:45 when the last of Steve and Connie’s friends say goodbye. Javier helps Steve stack the chairs, you allow yourself to stare and watch the way his muscles flex beneath his shirt. Taking drink after drink of your cider to try to quiet the want for him coursing through you.
"Hey, sis," Steve calls out, wandering over to where you're sitting on the edge of the deck. "You good to drive?" His blue eyes are red rimmed, he’s definitely had a good time tonight.
“Uh, no, not the best idea,” you shrug, suddenly feeling just how many drinks you had.
Connie appears at Steve's side, her arm wraps around his waist. She’s just as tipsy as your brother. "No worries, hun. You can stay in the guest room tonight. Though, Javier’s in your usual.”
Your heart skips a beat at the thought of staying under the same roof as him. You forgot he was staying here tonight. You nod, trying to not show the panic that’s inside you. "Thanks."
Steve yawns. "Well, I think it's time for bed. Long day, good party. You two gonna be okay out here?"
"We'll be fine," Javier says, his voice low.
Connie gives you a knowing look, a slight smirk playing on her lips. "Don't stay up too laaaaate," she sings. Steve’s oblivious, thankfully.
You watch as Steve and Connie make their way inside, arms wrapped around each other, giggling like teenagers. The sliding glass door closes behind them with a soft click, leaving you and Javier alone.
“You want to hang out?” He asks, nodding his head toward the low fire.
“Yeah,” you breathe out. Is this a dream?
You take a seat in a low adirondack chair, Javi chooses the one right next to you, not across, but next.
The fire crackles, casting a soft glow across Javier's face. You remind yourself to not turn your head and stare.
"So," he says, turning to face you, his eyes roaming your face. "Tell me about yourself."
"What do you want to know?"
“Whatever you want to tell me.”
"Well, much to my parent’s chagrin,” you take a deep breath. “I don’t live the suburban dream like my brother," you say, gesturing towards the large house. "I've got a tiny apartment in DC. My neighbors are a bunch of college kids and starving artists like me.”
"Sounds more interesting than this," he nods.
“Never a dull moment,” you shrug, finishing the cup of cider.
"And what do you do?"
"I do graphic design, mainly freelancing for nonprofits and small businesses in between what few acting jobs I can book. Struggling artist and actor is not nearly as important as a DEA agent,” you shrug. “But it pays the rent and keeps me creative… though mom and dad are still confused why I’d want to do something so pointless with my life."
“Still sounds like you’re making a difference.” He offers you his glass of straight whiskey he’s been slowly sipping all night. His dark eyes watch you take a drink, your body melting at the thought of your lips touching his.
“I guess,” you shrug, handing the glass back to him. “It’s not like I’m changing the world or anything. Just helping make things look nice, you know?”
His eyes don’t leave you.
“Doesn’t sound so small to me,” he says quietly.
“Yeah, well, it’s definitely not as thrilling as what you and Steve used to do in Colombia. I can’t imagine going from hunting down drug lords to… whatever this is,” you say, gesturing to the pristine yard.
“When the job ends, you either pack up and leave or you’re left with the mess.” He turns to face the fire, his eyes are distant, like he’s somewhere else entirely.
You hum in agreement, wondering what type of memories he carries with him.
“But I can see why your brother’s settled into this. It’s simple. Predictable.”
“Boring,” you add with a smirk.
“Yeah,” he agrees, with a half smile. “Boring.”
“So, all of this doesn’t appeal to you? The beautiful lawn, the beautiful wife, the picket fence? Seems like something every man wants.”
“Not everyone does,” he says after a pause.
"Yeah?” You tilt your head, curious.
“I used to think about it. But it never worked out that way. My job… didn’t leave much room for anything else.”
You give him a soft smile and nod. The silence floats through the air as the fire dies down.
“Maybe if the right person shows up…” he softly murmurs, finishing his glass of whiskey.
You stifle a yawn.
"Getting late," Javier observes. "We should probably head inside."
You nod, suddenly aware of how tired you are. The fire has died down to glowing embers, the late night air turns chillier. You stand, swaying slightly as the effects of the apple cider and bourbon hit you.
"Whoa there," Javier says, his hand reaching out to steady you. His touch sends a jolt through your body.
"I'm fine," you insist, even as you lean into his warmth. "Just need some water."
He closely follows you into the house. The kitchen is dark, illuminated only by a night light plugged into the wall.
"Glasses?" Javier asks.
"Um, top cabinet, I think.”
He grabs two glasses and fills them with water from the tap, handing one to you.
"Thanks," you murmur, taking a long sip. You lean against the counter, Javi stands in front of you. Somehow, Steve’s large kitchen now feels entirely too small, being in the presence of Javier’s wide shoulders and handsome face makes it hard to breathe.
“So,” you say, licking the water off your lips. “Your interview go well today?”
He nods, his eyes stay on your mouth. "Yeah. Don’t know what to think of it."
"Having second thoughts?"
He shrugs, his broad shoulders moving under his shirt. "Maybe. It's a desk job. Feels... strange after everything."
You nod, understanding. "Must be hard to go from all that excitement to pushing papers."
"It's... I don't know if I’ll be able to fit in that world."
"I know. Sometimes I look at Steve's life and wonder how we came from the same parents. Like we came from the same place, but I took a left turn while he took a right." His eyes meet yours, a spark of recognition passing between you. "So, if not a desk job, what do you want?"
He takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm not sure," he admits. "But I know it's not this." You understand exactly what he’s saying… the house, the neighborhood, the whole suburban lifestyle.
You swallow hard, your heart racing. "And what about right now? What do you want right now?"
You feel like you might burn up in flames under the heat of his eyes. Slowly and deliberately, he sets his glass down on the counter and moves to stand in front of you, his broad body casting you in complete darkness, blocking the dim glow of the night light. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb traces your lips.
"You," Javier murmurs, his eyes planted on your lips. "Right now, I want you."
You blink, unbelieving at the words you just heard. For years, you’ve dreamed of this. Imagined what it’d feel like to be touched by him, the sound of his voice. And now, it’s real. You expect to wake.
"Javier," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly. "I—"
He doesn’t allow you to finish your thought, his lips seal over yours with a soft, hesitant kiss… like he knows he’s in his friend’s kitchen kissing his little sister. But when you wrap your arms around his neck, pull him closer and open your mouth, he softly groans as his tongue licks against yours.
His hands move to your hips, gripping them firmly as he pushes you back against the counter. The cool tile edge digs into your lower back.
He trails his lips along your jawline, down to your neck. A soft moan escapes your lips before you can stop it.
“Shh,” he soothes against your skin, his hot breath and mustache sends shivers down your spine.
You nod, biting your lip to keep quiet as his hands roam your body..
His fingers trace patterns on your bare skin when he slides his hands under your flannel and up your shirt. You shiver at his touch, desire pooling low in your belly. His lips find yours again, the kiss deeper and more urgent now.
A sudden creek from upstairs alerts the two of you. You both freeze, lips still barely touching, breath mingling between you.
He pulls back slightly, eyes dark and conflicted. Your chests rise and fall rapidly.
"We can't," he whispers, voice rough with regret. "You’re–you’re Steve’s little sister."
You nod, understanding and disappointed.
He takes a step back, running a hand through his hair.
"I'm sorry," he says softly, his eyes rounded in guilt. "I shouldn't have—"
"No," you interrupt, shaking your head. "Don't apologize. I wanted it too."
You’ve wanted it for years.
A tense silence falls between you. You can feel the ghost of his lips on yours and his hands on you.
"I should go to bed," you say finally, breaking the silence. "It's late."
Javier nods, his jaw clenching slightly. "Yeah, me too."
You make your way to the stairs, Javier following close behind.
“Well,” you lean against the threshold of your temporary room, with your hand on the doorknob. “Goodnight Javi.”
He runs his tongue across his teeth, sending you a lascivious wink. “Sweet dreams, bonita.” He glances down the hall, towards Steve and Connie’s room.
Your fingers tighten around the doorknob, knowing once you turn it and open the door, the night will end. All you have to do is just take one step toward him and live out your teenage dream. With one last look at him, standing broad and tall in front of you, his lips agape, with his handsome jaw tense, you turn the knob and step into the room, shutting the door on your wildest fantasy coming true.
You toss and turn in bed, overheated by the kiss, feeling the touch of Javier imprinted on your skin. You stop yourself from getting out of bed and tip toeing to Javier’s door multiple times. You’re driving yourself cra—
A soft succession of knocks tap against your door.
God, it better be him.
You delicately tip toe over to the door and open it.
The door creaks open just enough, a blur of green sweeps in. His lips crash into yours, his tongue sliding deep into your mouth as he gently nudges the door closed.
He pulls back, his eyes heavy, roaming your panting, frenzied face.
“You gotta be quiet, I can only do this if you promise to be quiet.”
You nod, your eyes blinking wide.
“Yeah?” he asks, eyebrow tilting up.
“Y-yes,” you whimper, his big arm wrapped around you tight, your hands clasping the soft olive green cotton of his shirt.
He nods, sealing his mouth over yours. Your tongue responds to his, tasting the mint of his toothpaste, feeling the bristle of his thick mustache against your skin. He leads you to the bed, his lips not leaving yours as he lays you down against the dark blue sheets and climbs over you. He lays atop you, his broad body encompassing you underneath all of his silent strength. His knee parts your legs, a large hand running up the smooth skin of your thigh, pushing up the fabric of your night shirt.
Your back arch/es, chest pressing against his when he kisses his way down to your neck, gently nipping at it as his thumb traces the seam of your panties.
“Javi,” you whisper, your fingers weaving through the soft strands of his hair.
He glances up, his dark brown eyes staring into yours. Your mouth is agape, panting for air, already too overwhelmed by his attention.
“Please,” is all you can muster. Your teenage dream is here in this bed with you, bunching your shirt up against your neck and tilting his head down to suck a nipple into his mouth. He nibbles and slides his tongue across your chest, flicking it against the sensitive peaks, winding you tight.
Your hands loosen their hold of his hair the farther he kisses down your body. He kneels between your legs, lifting his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. His skin looks golden in this light, he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.
His hand sweeps down your body, your hips instinctively lifting for him to peel your panties off, leaving you naked and ready for him in whatever way he’ll take you.
He watches you with a cocky smirk tremble underneath his watch, too blissed out to stay still. He’s barely touched you and you’re already totally disheveled, you can tell he likes it.
He breathes in your scent when he settles between your widespread legs, straining to fit his large shoulders between them.
He spreads you wide, tongue darting out, swiping across his plush top lip as he watches his fingers explore your dripping cunt.
His nose taps against your slick before his mouth engulfs you, his tongue painting you like a masterpiece.
A gasp and a moan escape your throat at the sweetness of his lips where you need him the most. His hand grips your thigh tight as a stern shush.
“S-sorry,” you whisper, placing your palm against your mouth.
Your DEA agent brother is just a room down the hall away. His good friend and ex work buddy’s lips are currently kissing and sucking your clit.
His tongue swirls around the wetness you’ve gushed out for him. Your head thuds against the pillow, teeth biting into your lips to keep you from moaning. It doesn’t work, a long “fuuuck” leaves your mouth. Javi unseals his mouth from you, wide brown eyes under furrowed, thick eyebrows give you a stern look, his mustache and mouth glistening with your wet. “My shirt,” he nods towards the crumpled up ball of green laying next to your head. “Use it,” he instructs, before dipping back into between your legs.
You grasp the shirt, stuffing the fabric in your mouth, breathing a sigh of relief at the extra layer of protection protecting you and Javier’s secret escapade. He’s now all over you, the taste of the beer left on his tongue still in your mouth, the feel of his tongue against your aching core, the sight of his dark hair between your thighs, the sound of his throat letting a low moan out against your cunt, the smell of him leftover on the shirt that now acts as a muzzle.
The bed squeaks as you begin canting your hips against him. A firm hand pushes down on your stomach, holding you in place, Javier’s mouth digging deeper in between your legs.
His shirt muffles your whimpers and cries, and when he sticks a finger into your entrance, you bite down on the soft cotton, tears springing in your eyes at the maddening frustration of staying quiet.
The shirt does little to muffle the sob you choke out when he adds a second finger, curling them inside you with expert precision. Your thighs tremble as you teeter on the edge. Javi's tongue flicks relentlessly against your clit, his fingers pumping in and out at a merciless pace.
You knew it, he’d be so fucking good at this.
You're so close, teetering on the precipice of an earth shattering orgasm. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as your back arches off the bed. The shirt in your mouth barely muffles your desperate whimpers.
Suddenly, a loud creak echoes from the hallway. Footsteps. Steve.
Javi freezes, his eyes darting up to meet yours. You both hold your breath, your hearts pounding. Javier’s mouth stays planted against your cunt, his fingers lay still inside you. The footsteps pause outside your door for what feels like forever.
You can feel Javi’s breaths against your overheated core as he stays perfectly still.
A gentle knock on the door makes your heart leap into your throat.
“Hey, you awake?” Steve’s quiet voice comes through the door.
Javi’s eyes widen in panic. The bed creaks as gently extracts his fingers from inside you and pulls away, rubbing the slick of you off his chin onto your thigh. The bed creaks again, when he slowly lifts up.
You have to respond now. Shit.
You pull down the shirt. Mocking a loud yawn. “Yeah… I’m fine,” you manage. “Just–-uh–had a weird dream I think.’”
Your heart pounds against your chest while you wait for a response. Javi stays perfectly still, his eyes locked on the door.
“Alright,” he says finally. “Sleep well. G’night.”
“Good night,” you mumble.
His footsteps retreat down the hall, your head thuds against the bed with relief. Javi remains frozen, barely breathing until you hear the creak of Steve’s door opening and closing.
Javi’s eyes meet yours, he smirks at you mischievously with a raised eyebrow, his silent question asking if you want to continue.
You nod, spreading your legs wider for him. A lascivious smile spreads across his face before he dips his head back down, his tongue finding your clit.
His fingers slide back into you as his tongue swirls around your sensitive nub. You grab his shirt and stick it back in your mouth, biting hard and muffling the whimpers. He works you back up with perfect precision.
And when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot, you’re gone.
Your orgasm crashes over you, back arching off the bed, thighs clamping around his head as you writhe against his mouth. You can’t be loud, you must stay quiet.
His mouth doesn’t let up, licking and drawing out your climax, drinking down all that you offer him. Your nose huffs loudly, breathing in and out rapidly trying to catch your breath as the aftershocks subside.
He kisses your thigh, the bristle of his mustache tickles your sensitive flesh. He slowly licks and kisses his way up your body before he gently tugs his shirt from your mouth, replacing it with his lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands roam all over his smooth, broad shoulders feeling the firm muscles that lie underneath his soft skin.
“Javi?” you moan against his lips.
“Yeah?” he asks, pulling away.
You can feel the hardness of him pressed against your thigh, still covered by the soft fabric of his grey sweatpants.
You’ve wanted him for years, and now’s your chance, here in the guest bedroom of your brother’s white picket fence surrounded home.
“Will you fuck me?” you ask, before licking a line across his top lip.
He groans, dropping his forehead against yours. “Yes, but, you gotta be real fuckin’ quiet, okay?”
“Promise,” you whisper. "I'm... clean and on the pill. Javi... can I feel you?"
He rises up to hover over you. "Fuck... yes baby,” he growls.
You watch with your mouth agape, your legs spread wide and waiting, as he quickly shimmies out of his sweatpants.
He's thick and hard, the tip glistening with precum. His smooth body lays atop you, smothering you with his firm weight.
He positions himself between your legs, the tip of his cock teases your entrance before he slowly enters you. Oh, his wide cock stretches you divinely.
Your lip begins to hurt from biting down on it so hard, trying to keep quiet. He seals his mouth over yours, swallowing down your cries and moans as his hips roll against yours. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him into you deeper.
The bed creaks with the controlled power of each of his thrusts. You pray your brother can’t hear.
Javi steadies his thrusts, trying to keep quiet, the tension radiating off of him. He buries his face into your neck, his sharp nose pressing against your skin there. You can tell he wants to pound into your cunt, rattle the bed against the wall, take everything he can from your accepting pussy.
Your hands run down his back, feeling the flex of his muscles slick with sweat.
A moan escapes your mouth when he slowly pulls out before thrusting all of his length into you.
“Shh pretty girl, shhh,” he whispers. Balling up the edge of his shirt and sticking it into your mouth.
His eyes darken when you stare up at him, wide eyed with the bundle of green fabric muzzling your mouth.
He licks his way up your neck to your ear. He whispers “Fuck, you feel so good,” into your ear, his hot breath hitting against your skin. You whimper around his shirt at his words and his thick cock stretching you, hitting the spot you want him to hit the most with each thrust.
You pull the shirt out of your mouth. “Javi,” you breathe, “I’m close.” He nods. His hand snakes between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing tight circles.
It’s too much. You pull him down closer to you, burying your face in his neck to muffle your moans as you come undone all over his cock.
“That’s it,” he whispers, gritting his teeth as you pulse around and squeeze his cock. He slows his thrusts, letting you catch your breath as your blissed out body recovers. He kisses you sweetly. “You good?” he asks.
You nod, eyes heavy and body loose from your orgasm. You still want more. “More,” you manage to whisper.
He growls, suddenly pulling out and flipping you onto your stomach.
“On your knees,” he snarls, his large hands guide your hips up.
You comply, arching your back, presenting your overworked and wet cunt to him. He runs his hand over the curve of your ass before gripping your hips. He thrusts inside you, the coarse curls around the base of length soaking with the remnants of your orgasm.
He’s so fucking deep, his hips setting a pace slapping against the flesh of your ass.
“I know, I know,” he mutters softly. “You need to be quiet.”
You reach forward, grabbing his shirt and bringing it to your mouth to bite down hard on as he pounds into you from behind.
He grips your hips tighter, his thick fingers digging into your flesh with each thrust. His heavy breathing pants into the air, the bed creaks loudly underneath his force.
He slides in and out, your sensitive cunt feels every inch of him.
He leans over you, his chest searing against your back. His lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “You’re taking my cock so good, aren’t you? So fucking tight and wet.”
You push your back further against him, telling him to take all that he can from you.
“Fuck, I’m close,” he pants. “Such a good fucking pussy, going to cum all over you.”
You turn your head, letting go of the shirt from your mouth. “Cum for me Javi,” you whisper.
He nods, pulling out of your slick, and with a low groan, his white ropes of cum marks his territory all over your ass. You hope you'll forever feel the gentle taps of it against your skin as he empties himself.
“Fuck,” he pants, before rising from the bed and wiping the sweat off his brow. You collapse on the bed, your overworked limbs welcoming the softness of the mattress. He grabs his shirt, wiping it across himself before he cleans your skin with it. “Be right back back,” he whispers as he puts his sweatpants on.
You nod, watching him softly open the door and looking down the hall checking to make sure it’s safe. The soft click of the door leaves you alone with your racing thoughts. Remnants of Javier Peña’s cum lays on your skin… almost ten years after seeing that first photo of him.
He walks back in with a damp towel. “Spread for me,” he whispers. You obey, welcoming the warmth of the water against your overworked core. His touch is gentle against you.
“Do you know what time your brother usually gets up?”
“Usually around seven,” you answer, your eyes already growing heavy.
He nods, glancing down as he sets an alarm on his watch. "I’ll set my alarm for 6:45."
Before you can ask why, surprised that he’s staying, he pulls off his sweatpants and slips into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you.
“Good night Javi,” you sigh.
“Sweet dreams bonita.”
The alarm blares at 8:30, you groan, rolling over in the now empty bed. Hold on–did...was? You’re pretty sure you just dreamed the most vivid Javier Peña fantasy you’ve ever had… because that couldn’t have been real… until you see the bundled up green shirt laying next to you.
