series summary: after leaving the DEA, javier returns home and tries to live a normal life, but soon realizes, he can't escape his demons or his failures. that is, until he finds his second chance in you.
pairing: javier peña x fem!reader (POC/AAPI)
series content warning(s): strangers to friends to lovers, eventual EXPLICIT CONTENT (18+ ONLY MDNI), javier has PTSD / insomnia, reader owns a local coffee shop, slow burn, eventual romance/relationship, eventual smut, themes of violence (javier saw a lot of shit back in colombia), angst with a happy ending (don't worry), lots of smoking, use of alcohol, reader is POC/AAPI 🇵🇭, some tagalog, no use of y/n. each chapter will have its own separate warnings!
a/n: this year, i wanted to step out of my comfort zone and write for javier. i don't normally write for him and the few stories that i have written have been too far back. i wanted to give this man a happy ending after all the shit he endured in narcos s1-s3. and i know this character is technically a real person, but i'm rewriting (or rather finishing) the ending that we saw at the end of s3 - as a warning, this won’t be a story filled with a lot of smut (though there will be a small portion of them going at it), I just wanted to write a story about Javier - a man who’s too afraid to let anyone in after his time in the DEA and what happens when someone just naturally makes a home in his heart. hope y'all enjoy! this is gonna be a fun one <33
Muéstrame | Javier Peña x Latina F!Reader | ~2.8k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.
Summary: Javier visits you after a hard night.
Tags: porn no plot, unprotected p-in-v sex, backshots, sex against a wall, they're both needy af, both reader and javi speak spanglish, post nut feelings, no use of y/n, reader is afab and able-bodied, reader is a woman of color yet everyone is encouraged to read, other than javi being able to pick reader up there are no physical descriptions, sorry for any stray typos/grammatical mistakes, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!
A/N: i missed writing my man javi p so i banged this out (hehe) to stave off the sunday scaries🖤 i hope you all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it! reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated, thank you!
“Hey chiquita,” Javier’s voice pours through the phone like whiskey over ice, that familiar rasp curling straight into your ear and down your spine. “¿Qué haces?” (What are you doing?)
“Estudiando,” (Studying) you answer in a slow, lazy yawn, stretching your arms high above your head until your back arches and your old t-shirt rides up, exposing the soft curve of your stomach to the empty room.
You wedge the phone between your cheek and shoulder, flipping pages you’re barely reading anymore. “If I have to annotate another article, I might just gouge my eyes out.” A theatrical sigh is added for dramatic effect.
His laugh slides right under your skin and dissolves half your irritation on contact. He always does that without even trying: makes the world feel a little less heavy just by existing.
“¿Y tú? ¿Qué haces? Es tarde,” (And you? What are you up to? It’s late) you ask, already imagining the tired slope of his shoulders from a long day, leaning against the hood of his truck, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip while he finds the words.
“Just finished something with Carrillo,” he finally answers, voice rougher than before. “Talked to a group of kids. Things got ugly.”
The exhaustion, no, the defeat in his tone makes your heart trip over itself. You know he carries the weight of violence in a way that only Javier Peña can manage.
Before you can ask if he’s okay or if he even wants to talk about it, he pushes on almost like he’s stepping closer despite the miles between you.
“Needed a smoke… y como siempre, pensé en ti.” There’s a brief pause, he’s likely taking another drag of the cigarette. “Imagining you in my bed. All that soft skin against my sheets, legs spread for me… tan bella, tan mía.” (So pretty. So mine)
“Javi…” you breathe, equal parts bliss and warning, warmth flooding your cheeks and everywhere else.
This pattern of his is familiar. His own way of drowning out the blood and savagery with lust—something he can control. And you let him, every time.
If wanting you quiets the monsters for even a minute, you’ll be that escape. You’ll be whatever he needs.
“What?” he teases, that cocky little fucking smirk audible. “You don’t like it when I talk to you like this?”
You bite your lip, tracing the margin of your textbook, your assignment fading into absolute irrelevance.
“You know I do,” you murmur, flustered and not even trying to hide it as your thighs press together to relieve some of the building pressure. “Lo que no me gusta (what I don’t like)… is when you get me all worked up y no estás aquí para arreglarme (and you’re not here to fix me).”
A low groan rumbles through the phone, and you can practically feel it between your legs.
“Keep talkin’ like that,” he begins, voice thick with promise, “and I’ll show you exactly what I’ve been picturing since the moment I lit this cigarette.”
“Entonces ven,” (Then come here) you breathe, the words slipping out sultry and reckless, “ven y muéstrame.” (come here and show me)
He makes an amused, scolding click with his tongue. “Look out your window.”
Your brows knit in confusion, but your body obeys before your mind fully catches up. You set your textbook on the coffee table and saunter toward the window, fingertips brushing the curtain aside.
There he is, just as you imagined him.
Bathed in the amber halo of the streetlamp, he stands with one boot propped against the curb, bulky work phone pressed to his ear.
That well-worn leather jacket stretches over his broad shoulders, the familiar shape of him immediately melting every bit of tension in your body. An almost-finished cigarette rests between those soft, plush lips you dream about, its cherry ember glowing as he breathes in a slow stream of smoke.
When he tilts his head back to look up at you, the warmth of the light catches the sharp line of his jaw, kissing his cheekbones, highlighting the tired shadows under his eyes and the slow-burning hunger in his brown irises.
He’s beautiful in the way storms are beautiful: dangerous and inevitable.
Desire consumes you entirely. “Come up here, Jav,” you whisper, and it’s not a request.
The line goes dead immediately.
You watch, pulse hammering, as he flicks the cigarette away then crushes it beneath the heel of his boot and shoves the phone into his jacket pocket. Then he’s moving, long strides eating up the sidewalk, disappearing under the awning, and you hear the heavy echo of his boots taking the stairs two, three at a time.
You fling open the door and he fills the doorway, handsome and stoic and hungry.
One heartbeat. That’s all either of you gets. Then he’s on you.
His large hand cups your jaw while slamming the door shut behind him with a kick of his boot.
The lock clicks like a loading gun and he walks you backward, mouth crashing onto yours, tasting of smoke and mint and everything you’ve been aching for.
Your back hits the wall; his body cages you in, hard muscle and worn leather, the zipper of his jacket pressing into your stomach through the thin cotton of his shirt you’re still wearing.
He groans into the kiss: low, desperate, relieved, like coming home is the same thing as coming inside you, and you realize you’re palming him through his tight jeans, trying to drag him closer, already lost.
“Fuck, te extrañe,” (I’ve missed you) he rasps against your lips, then moving down, teeth scraping your throat as his hands slide under the shirt and find nothing but bare skin underneath. His touch is greedy, palming your breasts like he’s scared you’ll vanish if he doesn’t touch you right this second.
You tilt your head back against the wall with a whiny moan, breathless, smiling through the haze.
“Took you long enough, Agent Peña.”
He opts to kiss you passionately, right hand slipping behind his back to discard the pistol on the entryway table with a dull thud that rattles the keys in the bowl. The leather jacket comes next—he shrugs it off in one impatient roll of his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor like dead weight.
You’re frantic with his belt, fingers fumbling the worn brass buckle, yanking the zipper down with a rasp that sounds obscene in the quiet apartment.
Your hand dives in without hesitation (no briefs, of course there aren’t), palm closing close around him, thick enough that your grip doesn’t quite meet and he snarls against your throat.
“Fuck me,” his hips jerk forward into your fist. He’s burning hot, already slick at the tip, pulsing against your touch like he’s been hard since the moment he thought about calling you.
Javi’s hands feel like they’re everywhere: calloused palms skating up the backs of your thighs, thumbs pressing bruises into your skin, greedy and possessive.
When he realizes you’re only wearing his threadbare DEA tee and the tiniest scrap of lace panties underneath, he makes this deep almost wounded sound and drags his teeth along your collarbone hard enough to sting.
“No shorts? Been walking around like this, wet and waiting?”
You answer by tightening your fist as you stroke his cock, thumb swiping over the bead of pre-come at his slit. His whole body shudders; his forehead drops to yours, breath ragged against your lips.
Both of his hands slide higher, cupping your ass, lifting you clean off the floor like you weigh nothing. Your legs wrap around his waist on instinct, the hard line of his cock now trapped between you, sliding against the soaked lace covering your pussy.
The friction makes you both groan.
He pins you harder to the wall, one forearm braced beside your head, the other hand shoving the shirt up to your neck so he can get his mouth on your tits.
Teeth scrape over your nipple; his tongue follows, hot and wet and relentless, until you’re arching into him with a broken whimper.
“Need to be inside you,” he groans against your skin, giving your other tit attention, hips grinding slow, merciless circles that drag the head of his cock over your clit again and again through the ruined panties. “Need to feel you come around me, need it so fuckin’ bad I can’t think.”
You reach between you just as desperately, yanking the lace aside with trembling fingers. The blunt, slick head of him nudges your entrance and you both freeze for one breathless second, eyes locked, air thick with yearning and lust.
Then he thrusts, one long, punishing stroke that seats him to the hilt.
Your head slams back against the wall on a silent scream; he buries his face in your neck and curses in shaking Spanish, hips already snapping, fucking you into the plaster like he’s trying to crawl inside your skin.
You can only claw at his back, moaning fervently, heels digging into the flex of his ass, urging him deeper, faster, more. Pleasure coils tight and bright at the base of your spine, ready to snap.
He feels it—he always feels it, shifts his angle just enough to grind against that spot inside that makes you see stars, mouth finding yours again in a messy, bruising kiss.
“Come for me,” he pants against your lips. “Let me feel it, let me have it, puta madre—”
You shatter, clenching hard around him, crying out into his mouth as the orgasm rips through you like wildfire.
You’re fluttering around his cock, thighs trembling, come dripping hot down the inside of your thigh, when Javier pulls out and that makes you whimper at the loss.
Before the emptiness can even settle, his big hands are on your hips, spinning you so fast the room tilts.
Your cheek meets the cool wall with a soft smack; he kicks your feet wider, bends you forward until your back is a deep, greedy arch and your ass is tilted high, offered up like a gift.
“Hold still,” he rasps, and then he’s dragging the blunt, slick head of his cock through your folds once, twice, coating himself in the mess you’ve already made together.
“Javi—” His name breaks into a sob when he snaps his hips forward and buries himself again in one brutal thrust. The new angle is devastating: he’s deeper than before, the thick ridge of him dragging over every raw, oversensitive place inside you until sparks burst behind your eyelids.
Tears prick instantly, sliding hot down your cheeks as he starts to move. Not gentle, not slow, just a relentless rhythm that has your ass slapping back against his thighs with every plunge.
The sound is filthy: wet skin on skin, your shredded cries, his sexy grunts, the faint creak of the wall protesting under the force of it.
Javier can’t look away from where you’re joined. His gaze is molten, fixed on the way your puffy, wet sex stretches around his cock, the way you flutter and grip him every time he pulls out like your body is begging him to stay inside.
His cock gleams, veins standing out in sharp relief each time he draws back before slamming home again.
“Mírate,” (Look at you) he growls, voice ragged with awe. “Taking me so fucking perfect. This pussy is meant to be fucked raw.”
You can’t answer. Words are gone. Your palms are flat against the wallpaper, nails clawing for purchase as your spine bows harder, chasing every delicious stroke.
Your thighs shake; your toes barely touch the floor now, he’s holding you exactly where he wants you, using your body.
Every thrust punches the air from your lungs, sending another helpless tear streaking down to your jaw.
Pleasure coils tighter, hotter, almost too much, until you’re babbling his name, clenching around him in fluttering waves that make him swear viciously.
He leans over you, chest to your back, one hand sliding up to wrap around your throat, not squeezing, just anchoring, thumb stroking the frantic beat of your pulse.
“Así mero,” (Just like that) he pants against your ear, hips never slowing. “Let me hear how good it feels.”
So you wail louder, not performative at all—a true testament on how euphoric he makes you feel, clenching so tight around him as you finish, he has to fight his way back in to keep fucking you.
Your whole body locks, shudders, gushes fresh wetness smearing both your thighs.
He follows with a groan that sounds like your name and relief and surrender all at once, slamming deep one last time and spilling hot inside you.
You feel every pulse, every throb against your walls, marking you from the inside.
He stays buried inside, chest heaving against your back, both of you trembling from the frenzy you just locked in to.
For a long moment there’s nothing but the sound of your mingled breathing the soft smack of his lips as he kisses up along your neck.
Slowly, so slowly it aches, Javier pulls out. The loss makes you both shudder—especially when some of his spend begins to leak.
After pulling his jeans up on his hips again and wiping you clean with his now discarded button up, he turns you to face him gently, thumb brushing the tears from your cheek. Javi presses the softest kiss to the corner of your mouth, holding you against the wall like he’ll never let go.
“Hey,” he whispers, voice hoarse, lips brushing yours with the softest smile.
You laugh, breathless and wrecked. “Hey.”
Before your legs can give out, Javier gathers you up in his arms and carries you to your bedroom. Your face finds the damp curve of his neck instantly; you breathe him in… gunpowder, cigarette smoke, sweat, and the faint cedar-and-citrus cologne that’s lived in your sheets for months.
He lays you down on the bed and the mattress dips beneath his weight as he sits at the edge while helping pull off your t-shirt. His warm hand lingers on your hip before it slowly slips away.
Then he just… looks at you. Takes in the tear tracks, the way some of his come is still painted on your inner thighs, the ruined panties askew on the dip of your hips.
His expression goes soft, briefly, until that familiar frown settles between his brows, carving itself into his handsome face—the same one he gets when something’s clawing at him from the inside, something he’s trying too hard to swallow down.
Your chest tightens.
“What’s wrong?” you murmur, reaching for him instantly. You take his hand, fitting it between your palms. His knuckles are rough from work, from long nights and worse days, and you lift them toward your lips.
The soft kiss you press to them is feather-light, but it makes his shoulders tense, like he’s fighting the urge to fold into you completely.
Javier Peña, the man who stares down cartel killers without flinching, looks wrecked. The light coming through the window catches the wet shine on his lashes, turns the moisture on his cheeks into tiny shards of gold.
He isn’t crying, not quite, but he’s so close it hurts more than if he were.
“I saw things tonight,” he whispers, voice raw, “things I don’t think I’ll ever be able to unsee. And all I could think in that moment was… Necesito verla (I need to see her). Need to feel her alive and under my hands. Need to know the world still has something this good in it.”
Your heart suddenly swells and it feels heavy in your chest. You cup his jaw, thumbs stroking the stubble and every divot you’ve memorized in the dark.
“I’m here,” you breathe. “Estoy aquí, Javi. Siempre.” (I’m right here. Always)
He makes this sound, half scoff, half laugh, and drops his forehead to yours. His hands move to cradle your face like you’re sacred.
When he kisses you now it’s slow, reverent, tasting of every unspoken apology for the parts of himself he still thinks are too broken to deserve you.
You kiss him back the same way: I see you, all of you, and I’m still here.
He toes off his boots, shoves his jeans the rest of the way down, and crawls in beside you, pulling you into the cradle of his body.
You lace your fingers through his as they rest on your now naked stomach. He presses a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, like he can’t get enough.
“Te quiero,” he says against your skin, quiet yet steady, the words rare and priceless from him. You cherish the moments where he allows himself to be vulnerable. “Te quiero tanto que a veces me asusta.” (I care about you so much that sometimes it scares me)
Your nose brushes his. “No dejes que te asuste.” (Don’t let that scare you)
His eyes flutter shut and he pulls you (somehow) impossibly closer, leg sliding between yours, palm splayed wide and possessive over the small of your back.
You fall asleep like that, tangled, sticky, hearts pressed so close you can’t tell whose is whose anymore.
i have a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤
Summary: Your soon to be husband leaves you at the alter, but you should have guessed since the practice seemed to run in the family. It’s hard to be upset however, when his father comes to repent for not only his own but his son’s wrong doings. Aka fiancé’s dad Javi fucking you in your wedding dress after his son ditches you at the altar.
Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Minimal editing, unspecified but thicc and legal age gap, infidelity, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, insane dirty talk, toxic father son relationship, reader is delulu, praise kink, petnames, sex in front of a mirror, veil pulling??, a few spanks, creampie, Javi fucks you into the mattress, unprotected P in V [don’t do it!!]. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶.
Word count: 2.6k
A/N: Literally just porn without plot, lotsa fucking, I want father in law Javi. Minimally edited lmao I just banged this out Can’t wait for you to read it!! Hope you enjoy, nasties! Mwah!
Masterlist
You rich and I'm wishin', um
You could be my mister, yum
Delicious to the maximum
Chew you up like bubble gum
You love me, he wants me
I think I want you too
Best day of your life- yeah, what a fucking joke. But what were you expecting? Ditching people at the altar seemed to run in the family. Okay, maybe that was a bit of a harsh assessment of the Peñas, especially Peña senior, who, despite all you had heard of him from your ex fiance, had always shown you kindness.
The thing is, it becomes really fucking hard to be charitable to a family when their son humiliates you infront of the entirety of Texas. Leaves you high and dry on the steps of the biggest church in town in your great grandmother’s silk dress. It becomes even harder when you learn his mother had been in on it all along, sparing you not even a little apology, or a comforting embrace after her son's little getaway plan had been revealed.
Instead of extending you a supporting hand, she ran away to make sure her baby boy was okay, and that this entire ordeal hadn’t taken a toll on his emotional and psychological well being.
How thoughtful.
Of course, you were the pathetic one– unable to look anyone in the eye, sobbing on your fathers shoulder till you couldn’t breathe any longer. So distraught and unwell even getting out of your wedding attire seemed impossible. It only made you feel even more pathetic. At some point you ended up curling up in your hotel bed, still in the “happiest day of your life” outfit, and pleading for some time alone from your friends and family to wallow in your own suffering.
You would eat your feelings in the from of the apology chocolates the hotel had complimented for you, but you couldn’t manage to even do that without feeling like a total fucking looser.
After all that had transpired, and after years of hearing nothing but sour things about your soon to be father in law, safe to say you were surprised to see him at your hotel room door at midnight as the ambassador the family seemingly sent to smooth things over.
For it being only your second time meeting the man, this was far from the most opportune scenario. In fact, him showing up all sorrowful and apologetic for his shitty excuse of a son, in his navy blue suit and loose tie, made your already pathetic day all the more difficult to get through.
Your whole relationship you had blamed every fault of your boyfriend on his absent, detached father. You’d heard plenty about the lack of childhood visits, quality time, and playing soccer that had plagued your partner’s life, and had found it quite easy and comforting to pile on every relationship problem you ever came across as the consequence of Javier Peña’s lack of responsibility and good parenting.
What you didn’t expect, was to find that Javi Peña was a whole lot more normal and level headed than you anticipated. He was just a guy trying to make a good living and provide for his family. Sure, he was a little bit reserved, but he was only ever warm and sweet and even quite chatty with you. To be frank, you should have seen your boyfriend’s shitty behavior as a consequence of his insufferable mother from a mile away. God knew you weren’t expecting Peña Sr. to be the better of your two soon to be in laws.
That being said, you would have never expected to be on your hands and knees, on what was supposed to be your marital bed, being pounded from behind by your ex soon to be father in-law.
Because that's where you are now, eyes rolling to the back of your head thanks to the most intense pleasure you've ever felt. The drag of Javis cock against your walls has been building a steady heat in your belly, the stretch of him so perfect and delicious it has you pushing your hips back to meet his every thrust.
Any other day a man like him wouldn’t have needed much to woo you– with his cut jaw, handsome features and those chocolate brown eyes you wished his son had inherited. Safe to say on a day like this one it took even less, just a few rubs on your back, a hand smoothing over your head and trailing down your waist, a few “pretty girls” and “poor things” and some fucking sympathy from someone from your boyfriends sorry family.
Fucking pathetic.
But Javier knows his son is pathetic, knows he is a good for nothing moron who doesn't even know what he was losing out on when he walked out on you.
“He’s a fuckin fool- look at this tight little pussy, squeezin’ me so fuckin good. Bet he didn’t fuck ya like this, huh baby? Didn’t make ya cum over and over, make ya scream… stupid fuckin boy..” Javier’s grip on your hips tightens on hearing your moan, and he curses under his breath when your pussy flutters around his cock.
Your legs are threatening to give out under you, your knees tender from how long you've been leaning on them. Javier’s hand moves to grip the fabric of your veil, using it to pull your head back and make you face the mirror that's been teasing you all evening. “Look- Look at ya- fuckin cryin’ on my cock. ‘S the only reason ya’ shoulda’ be cryin’ in this pretty dress..” With drooping eyes you're faced with your own reflection– stains from your mascara running down your face now less thanks to the sorry of the afternoon and more thanks to the way Javi’s cock has been nudging your sweetspot.
You watch your tits spill out of your beautiful silk dress, the fabric now disheveled and a far cry from the sophisticated, simplistic garment it once was. You can barely recognise it, but then again you can barely recognise your own reflection. “Look at that pretty little body- fuckin made for me.”
“Yours-” you cut yourself off with a gasp, Javi’s hands squeeze your hips and your cheeks set ablaze at the way he looks at you when you catch it in the mirror. The whole sight is so debauched and depraved– you on your hands and knees for a man who could easily be mistaken for your father. But somehow it's even dirtier- the possibility of your ex finding out sends you into overdrive.
The silk of your dress brushes against your hot skin, flipped lewdly up to reveal your bare ass, bunched at the waist, the straps drooping and threatening to fall. Javi pulls the zip down even further, watching as it hangs off your body, draped like fabric from a 15th century painting.
Javi’s voice calls your attention back to the present moment, lewd words showing you he doesn't hold back the way his son does. “Gonna fill this tight little cunt up..” The stretch is so delicious between your legs, you feel the steady throb continue to tighten the coil inside you and you can’t help but moan. “Yeah, you want that? Want daddy to put a baby in you?” the thought makes you shiver, that name makes you shiver, has your cunt clenching around his cock. What an image- you, belly round with your father in laws child, well, your ex father in law. Unlike his son you were sure he would be the perfect husband, would bend you over ever surface in your picket fence house and fuck you just like he’s doing now.
Deep, and hard and fast, just like you need it. Just like you've always needed it..
“Please daddy, want your babies, wanna be yours…” Your voice is so broken and wrecked you're afraid he can’t understand what you're even saying. To be honest you can’t be bothered much, it feels so good, his thick, hard cock feels so good pounding between your thighs there's little else you can keep your mind on.
“Yeah? you like that sweetheart? we can play house..” you nod your head and his hand tightens its grip around your veil, exaggerating your movements, bending you to his will. “Wanna play house with daddy? can be my pretty little wife” you fist the sheets, pushing back against him with his every thrust. You do want that, you’ve always wanted that. And what better person to do it with. Sure, his wife always complained about how he was never around, but that's looking a lot more like a her problem– especially with the way Javi’s tip continues to kiss your sweet spot.
“Yes daddy, please..”
Javier lets go of your veil, and pushes his palm between your shoulder blades, forcing you down into the mattress till your cheek is pressed against the warm, fluffy duvet. One hand keeps you there, the other lands a quick spank to your ass and kneads at the flesh with a newfound desperation. “Won't be able to even say his goddamn name after I'm done with ya. Stupid boy doesnt know how to treat a pretty thing like you– so sweet, so gorgeous, so fucking smart. Too fucking good for him.”
With your lips parted and breathing heavy you drool onto the covers, letting Javi pound you into the mattress and overshadow every other thought that dared cross your head earlier in the day. If his plan is to make you forget about anything that isn't him, it sure is working. You don't think you’d even want to sound out his incompetent son’s name after he’s done with you.
As if he can read your mind his voice calls from behind you. “Want ya to be drippin with me.” the wet schick of his cock fucking into your tight, wet, hole reminds you of just how needy you are for him, and the prospect of having him dripping out of you– down your thighs, between your legs, leaving you all messy for him to come back and do it all over again, drives you absolutely insane.
“He’s fuckin useless, just like his ma. But look at you, so fucking tight ‘round me, making all those pretty sounds, she fuckin’ wishes she was you.” His words have your cunt squeezing around his cock, and a lewd, pornographic moan slipping past your lips. “My girl’s gonna be the perfect lil’ mamma, aren’t ya, so fuckin’ pretty.” You would certainly like that- in fact you’re almost surprised with how appealing it sounds to you.
“Gonna be perfect for you daddy, only for you.” your dress rides up even further, the front slipping further down.
“Thats my fucking girl.” That growl of his sends shivers down your spine– possessive, and confident and dripping like honey from his lips. It was almost like it could send you over the edge by itself. The lewd creaking of the bedframe fills the room, the sound of skin on skin driving you wild. The way he handles you– firm and deft but gentle and passionate, it's nothing like his son.
He’s nothing like his son.
“Yeah, bet it feels good don’t it, bein’ fucked by a real man? Feel daddy so deep in ya? Nothin ever been that deep before, huh..” You shake your head ‘no’ and he coos at how pathetic you must sound, barely able to make a coherent sound, forget string together a whole sentence.
“Make me go fuckin’ crazy, babygirl.”
What he says is fucking filthy, there’s no denying, no justifying it. It makes you squirm, makes you even wetter, makes you want him even more.
“Think you wanna go back to him? With daddy’s cum drippin between those pretty thighs, show him how a real man treats his girl?”
“Gonna make ya beg him to stay, gonna talk some sense into him, just so daddy can have ya all to himself, ain't that right? You gonna sneak into daddy’s room in the middle of the night? All wet an’ achy? Beggin’ daddy to fuck ya how ya need?”
“Wanna run away with me baby, live in a perfect little house, let daddy give ya his babies, fuck ya full’ve my cum every single night?”
His hands roam your body, smoothing over your hips, reaching forward to squeeze at your breasts, pinching and kneading the flesh. He bends down to trail light kisses along your spine and the feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Your head twists side to side against the sheets as you squirm, each sensation like it's heightened to the maximum, the heaviness and the throb between your thighs at an all time high.
You know you're close, you can’t hold it off much longer. Your cunt squeezes and your toes curl. You also know Javi won't last, you can feel him pulse against your swollen walls, can feel the way he desperately thrusts into you, pushes you further down against the mattress, grips your skin with that renewed fervor, with the desperation of doing anything to hold on to the incredible sensation.
“Come for me, babygirl, come for daddy, show daddy how much ya needed this, show daddy how bad ya need his cock.”
Your legs part even further under you, if that's even physically possible, your entire upper body being smashed into the mattress. You call out Javi’s name, followed by a string of desperate, strained, whiny daddy daddy daddy’s.
With a strangled moan that's partially muffled by the covers you come undone, your head spins and your heart pounds in your chest, you feel yourself gush and clamp down around his cock. You feel Javi’s hips stutter behind you and his cock throb against your wet walls. The feeling only prologues and intensifies your orgasm, your body going slack and eyes rolling back into your head.
“Please daddy, need your cum, please, give it to me..”
Javi’s groans catch your attention as you come down from your high, still reeling from the aftershocks when you feel his cock twitch inside you and paint your walls with his hot spend. Your words are strained and slurred, but they clearly get the job done. You shiver and press your ass back against him to meet his stuttery, sloppy thrusts, and bite your lip when you feel him tighten his grip on your hip, feel him land a final spank to your ass for good measure as he slows down.
You keep your ass in the air, face still pressed against the mattress as Javi pulls out. You hear him mutter a few strained curses under his breath as he does, and catch him looking between your legs to see his spend obscenely leak out of your used hole. He reaches his fingers to rub against your messy folds and you whine, feel him gather up your juices and push them back inside your cunt in a way that has you almost cumming right there again.
Your dress is still pooled at your waist and he unzips it entirely, sneaking his hands under your thighs and flipping you over and yanking you towards him.
“You really want daddy’s babies?” Your head falls back against the bed when you feel his hand cup your cunt, rub your messy, swollen folds with the calloused tips of his fingers. You barely manage to nod.
“Then I ain’t done with ya yet pretty girl.” You tilt your chin to catch his gaze, now in nothing but your stupid little wedding veil. You’re not sure about the best day of your life, but this sure as hell contends for one of the best nights.
You can be my daddy tonight-night-night
I'm neon phosphorescent
Open like a Christmas present, oh
You can be my daddy tonight-night-night
If you're seeking heaven
Then you wanna come and get it alright
Be my daddy tonight
What's up what's up
What's up what's up
Be my daddy be my daddy
Be my daddy be my, be my daddy tonight
AHHHHH feel like I’m going to hell for this one. Thanks so much for reading!! Please please please let me know what you think. I’d love to know your thoughts!!! Thank you to everyone who engages with my work, you keep me writing!! 💗🐝
Pairing: DBF! Javier Peña x Female Reader
Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI)
Summary: You're not a football fan, but you are a fan of seeing Javier Peña.
Warnings: dbf, age gap (reader is in her mid 20's, javi's in his 40's), smut (oral f receiving), pining, drinking, cheating, guilt, dual pov
Words: 3,500
A/N: Thank you to my winged lads @schnarfer and @mothandpidgeon for their eyes and love.
I Can See You Masterlist | Masterlist
Previous Chapter
—-
Javier grips the phone, staring at your number on the paper. Just seven simple digits.
He dials the first number, and he can almost hear your sweet moans.
On the second number, he thinks of how perfect your lips and body felt against his.
As he presses the third number, he recalls the way your eyes lit when you looked at him that first night at Whiskey Ridge.
On the click of the fourth number, he feels that phantom quickening of his heart he gets whenever he thinks of you.
But at the fifth number, he remembers how big a help your dad was when he was in Colombia, checking on Chucho and the ranch.
And then, as his finger hovers above the sixth number, he remembers how long he’s known your dad.
He’s wracked with so much guilt he almost puts the phone down, but he dials the seventh number. His tongue darts across his lips to wet them, his finger ticking against the surface of the table.
Ring
Ring
Ri—
“Hello?”
Javi breathes, his shoulders losing their tenseness at the sound of your voice. “Hey, it’s Javier,” he says.
“Javier,” you respond, and he can hear your smile, his lip quirks up in the corner at the sound of it. “How’s the calf?”
“Good, that’s why I called. Starting to perk up a bit. Just wanted to let you know the treatment’s working.”
“Great,” you say, your voice soft. “I was worried about the little guy.”
He shifts in his chair, looking out the window at the pasture where the cows graze. This land is now his responsibility. He’s been entrusted with it. Just like your father trusted him with his friendship. The guilt burns even hotter inside.
“Thanks again for all your help,” he says.
“Of course, I was happy I could… help,” you say, but there’s something about the way you husk out help.
An implication that you’re thinking about that damned wall and the way your body felt against his. He has to stop. He needs to hang up, needs to ignore whatever feelings he has for you.
“Well,” he sighs, “I just wanted to let you know.”
The elephant in the room grows larger, just like his guilt.
“Thanks…” you respond after a breath.
The silence sits between you before he speaks up, needing to somehow stop this.
"I have to go," he says, tight and simple. "One of the hands needs help with the fence repair."
“Oh,” you say, disappointed. “Okay then. I’ll see you Tuesday then.”
Javier closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Yeah," he says before he can stop himself. "Tuesday."
"Great! I'll save your usual table."
"Sounds good," he lies. "Goodbye," he grits, before ending the call.
God damnit, he knows he’s not going on Tuesday.
—-
It’s been two months since that day in the barn. Javier’s absent from Whiskey Ridge, and now you know what it’s like to fall victim to Laredo Lothario Javier Peña.
You at least start dating a nice bartender named Jack. You’re good at pretending that you’re not constantly thinking about Javier when you’re with your new handsome boyfriend. You make out in his big Ford truck, laugh at his stories about bar fights and drunk parties, let him hold your hand on the walk to your apartment, and moan his name when he’s fucking you, even though you’re thinking about Javier.
Your hand is in Jack’s when you walk into your dad’s house for his famous College Football Kickoff Party. The Longhorns play at 3, your dad and his buddies will all be spread across the leather couches for the next few hours. It’s not “your thing,” but you always hung around, just to be near Javier, who you sensed was also not the biggest football fan. But Jack loves it. He plops down on the couch next to your dad, who just adores your new boyfriend, finding him charming and a good match for you. You, on the other hand, can’t stop thinking about your dad’s best friend whenever the “catch” of Whiskey Ridge touches you.
When Javi shows up, you try not to look his way, but when you finally do, his dark brown eyes are on you, surveying the way the light blue fabric of your dress, covered in cherries, hugs your curves. You adjust under the heat of his gaze, noticing the thick swallow down his throat as he tries to keep his eyes off of you and all of your exposed skin.
He definitely remembers the dress.
Jack wraps his arm around your shoulder, and you can sense Javier tightening from across the room, his broad body filling one of your dad’s beloved leather recliners as he tries to focus on the game playing on TV.
You cross your legs, your heel bouncing, trying to tick away the energy while Javier’s knee bounces too, and you wonder if he even realizes he’s doing it.
After a while, it’s all too much. The TV’s too loud, the men’s ruckus shouts of celebration, and their curses at the referees are too jarring. You excuse yourself from Jack’s side, lifting his arm off your shoulder and head to the kitchen, under the guise of checking on the chili.
It’s quieter here, the dining room acts as a barrier between the football party and peace. You grab an apple from the fruit bowl and take a bite, craving something fresh and sweet after the feast of salty fried foods.
—-
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Javier admonishes himself with each step down the hall. He excused himself to random grunts, nobody even looked to see where he was going.
Wherever you are, that's where he’s headed.
He finds you in the kitchen, perched on top of the island, backlit by the wide window above the sink.
“Cherry,” he gravels out.
“Javier,” you say, turning and taking a bite of the apple.
You’ve been cold towards him today, he can sense it. You barely even looked at him when he walked in, but he’s seen how he’s affected you. Your eyes have snuck over to look at him all day.
“Your boyfriend seems nice,” he says, forcing the compliment out.
“Mm,” you respond, turning back to the window. “He is.”
Your aloofness does something to him, he knows it’s an act, but damn if it still doesn’t burn him.
He doesn’t know what he’s doing in here, he knows how this will wind up. It’s just going to leave him wanting more. He shouldn’t have even come today. The whole drive here, he repeated the same “stupid, stupid, stupid” over and over in his head. And yet, the voice inside him telling him to stay away was so easily ignored.
The past couple of months have been hell, stuck between wanting to see you and wanting to stay far away. Guilt is the only persistent feeling. Tasha’s calls have been ignored for so long, she stopped calling, probably telling all of her friends to steer clear of Javier Peña. He drives by Whiskey Ridge, looking for your car, that light blue Volkswagen that your dad gifted you on your eighteenth birthday, wondering what you do during your time off.
He rounds the island to face you, his breath stuttering at seeing you so close again, the bright rays of the sun shining in. He stands just far enough away, if anybody were to walk in, they wouldn’t think a thing.
“How’ve you been?” he asks.
“Good,” you answer, taking a bite, his eyes track a droplet of juice that dribbles down your chin. His hand tightens at his side as he fights the urge to bend forward and lick it.
There’s a hint of guilt blooming in his chest. He ghosted you after he told himself it was the right thing to do, that he was protecting you and his friendship with your father. But standing here now, seeing the cool distance in your eyes, he knows he hurt you.
He watches you chew, the purse of your lips, remembering how they felt against his. He clears his throat, trying to focus. "How'd you and your boyfriend meet?"
"Whiskey Ridge.”
Javier understands—you met him at the restaurant, he deliberately stopped visiting.
He doesn’t respond, he just nods, moving closer, unable to keep his distance now that he’s here with you. He can smell the sweet citrus of your perfume mixed with the tart apple.
His hand patters against his leg, too eager to touch you. He can’t resist, he reaches out, fingers clasping at the hem of your dress.
“Did you wear this for me?” he asks, rubbing the soft fabric in between his fingers.
"Mm," you hum noncommittally, taking another bite of the apple. Juice glistens at the corner of your mouth, and you slowly lick it away, your eyes staring into his. "Or, I like it."
The defiance in your eyes does something to him. The boldness you’re showing catches him off guard. He didn’t think you could ever be so feisty, so cool, and confident. It only makes him want you more.
"I like it too," he gravels, stepping closer, until his legs bump against the counter, his body now between your knees.
There’s a roar of cheers echoing from the living room, and Javier silently thanks the Longhorns and the tile flooring that will warn him of approaching footsteps.
"I'm sorry I stopped going," he whispers, needing to say it, needing you to know.
"I must say, I miss your tips," you respond, a slight smile ghosting your lips.
Javier huffs out a small laugh, the tenseness he was holding slowly releasing. "Hm," he hums. "Well, for what it's worth, I missed seeing you."
Finally, a bit of softness warms your cool facade. Your eyes widen, lips parting in surprise. "Yeah?"
He nods, licking his lips, eyes darting down to your mouth. He tests the waters, stepping fully between your legs, feeling you part them wider to accommodate him. The edge of your dress rides up your thighs, and more of your pretty skin is revealed to him.
You lift the apple to his lips, and he takes a bite, his eyes looking into yours, watching as your pupils dilate. It’s sweet and tart on his tongue, but not nearly as sweet as he remembers your lips.
He chews and swallows, watching as you set the half-eaten apple aside on the counter. And then your lips are on his, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. He responds immediately, his hands grip your waist, fingers digging into the softness of your dress.
Another cheer erupts from the living room, but Javier barely hears it over the thudding of his pulse. Your tongue is sweet from the apple, and he quietly groans into your mouth. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer.
Javier isn't thinking anymore. He doesn't care that your dad is just across the house, that your boyfriend is watching the game, oblivious to what’s happening in this kitchen. All that matters is the way you melt against him, the small sounds escaping from your throat, the feel of your arms wrapping around his neck.
He throws caution to the wind, his hands sliding under your dress, bunching the material up as he runs his palms along the smooth expanse of your back.
You pull away, your eyes dark with need, mouth agape, brows furrowed in a look of determination that makes his heart skip. Fuck, he knows he should run, knows it's been a little too long since he left the living room, but he can't leave you now.
“Cherry,” is all he whispers, chasing your lips.
His gruff whisper is all you need to hear. You kiss him again before he trails his mouth down your chin, your neck, to the soft swell of your breasts. He's craved you since that day in the barn, dreamt about your gorgeous body, wishing to hear the sweet moans you let out.
His tongue follows the low neckline of your dress, his mouth has been watering since he first saw you today, needing to taste the sweetness of your skin again.
“Lie back for me,” he whispers against the swell of your breasts.
His heart hammers in his chest as you slowly lean back onto the granite island. You’re too beautiful, he can’t resist you anymore. He pushes your dress up, hands sliding up your thighs to reveal the crimson lace of your panties.
“Fuck,” he grits, his fingers tracing the delicate fabric, feeling the heat radiating off of you. Another cheer bursts from the living room, reminding him how dangerous this is, how close you both are to being caught, but neither of you right yourselves. You only spread your legs wider for him.
He leans down, pressing kisses along your inner thighs. You smell like sweet heaven, all musky and feminine. He hooks a finger into the gusset of your panties, pulling them to the side, exposing your pretty pussy to him. He stares, unblinking and in awe.
“So pretty,” he murmurs as he leans in.
The first swipe of his tongue against you nearly buckles his knees. God, you taste even better than he could have ever imagined. Sweet and tangy, like the apple you just shared. He flattens his tongue, dragging it slowly and greedily, savoring every drop you’ve already slicked out for him. Your hips buck off the island, and he presses you down, locking you down so he can push himself further against your heat as he groans against you. He licks and sucks against your clit, deliberate and focused, wanting to drive you wild while keeping you quiet enough that no one will hear you over the game.
He’s never wanted anyone like this, never risked so much before, but the way you’re writhing under his tongue, arching into his mouth, fingers tugging at his hair… it’s worth all the risk.
He prays, actually prays, to whatever deity is listening to let him make you cum, let him taste the way you flood his mouth. He slides a finger inside your tight cunt, and your walls already clench around it. He’s in awe at how tight you grip him, curling it upward, making you gasp and moan, your hand flying up to muffle your mouth.
He sucks at your clit, his finger working inside you before he stretches your tight hole with another of his thick fingers. You’re trembling now, your thighs quaking, your breath huffing out faster.
“Javier, I’m—” you breathe.
He hums against you, his eyes looking up at you, your head angled up to watch him, your eyes wide. He nods, his tongue pressing harder against your clit, and you shatter for him. There’s another loud cheer from the living room as you silently scream, your body tensing and shuddering. He laps up everything you gift him, every tremor, every drop. You’re softly chanting “oh my god, oh my god” as he helps you sit up, the dopey smile you give him makes him want to take your hand and lead you into the darkest corner to make you smile like that all night. You’re so beautiful.
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his chest heaving. He helps you fix your dress after you hop off the island. His cock is so hard, it strains against his jeans, but this isn’t about him; it’s about tasting and claiming you, even if just for this short moment.
Then, there are footsteps down the hall. He quickly steps away from you, grabbing the half-eaten apple from the counter, just as Jack, of all people, appears in the doorway.
"There you are, babe," Jack says, smiling at you. "You're missin’ the game."
Javier pretends that he’s busying himself with getting a beer from the fridge, willing his cock to go down as Jack heads to the stove to get a bowl of chili.
Christ, this was a bad idea, but then, when he looks at you, and he sees the slight swell of your lips from his mouth and the way your skin glistens with heat for him… he knows he can't resist temptation.
“I’ll see you Tuesday,” he mouths at you, while Jack’s back is turned.
You nod, a hint of a smile lifting your lips before he leaves and discreetly adjusts himself in the hall.
—-
You don’t know how you make it through the rest of the party. The football game is loud, your dad and his friends are loud, the air conditioning fighting off the hot Texas afternoon is loud, but they’re all just background noise to the way your thoughts race, the feel of Javier’s lips still on yours, the sear of his hands under your dress. You sit next to Jack, smiling at all the right moments, cheering when everyone else does, but you might as well be back in that kitchen, because it’s all you can think about.
Javier sits across the room, his dark brown eyes constantly looking your way… and then, when Jack wraps his arm around you, you can’t help but notice the way Javier grips his beer bottle tighter and the way his jaw tenses.
The guilt inside you is now louder than anything else in this cavernous living room. Jack’s nice enough. One of those charming womanizer types who you’re sure won’t be around forever, but he treats you well and makes you feel pretty. Yet here you are, counting the minutes until you can escape his embrace, already thinking of when you'll see Javier again.
The Longhorns score a final touchdown in the last minutes of the game, and the living room erupts in cheers, beer bottles raised in celebration.
"Now, that's how you start a season!" your dad exclaims.
Jack places a kiss on the crown of your head. "Your first Longhorns win of the season," he says with a grin. "How does it feel?"
Your smile is forced as you lean into his embrace. "Great," you say, your eyes involuntarily flicking over to Javier. He's watching you, eyes dark with a mix of jealousy, rage, and desire.
When the party winds down, everyone filters out with handshakes and goodbyes, already planning to watch the next game together. But Javier stays under the guise of helping clean up, joining you and Jack.
You’re washing the dishes in the sink when he walks into the kitchen, dropping more plates by your side.
“That’s all for the plates,” he gravels next to you.
“Thanks, Mr. Peña,” you respond.
He clears his throat, and you tempt a glance to the side at him. His eyes are inky with desire. “You’re welcome, Cherry,” he whispers.
You both stay there, suspended in time, staring at each other, your body heating at his nearness, until Jack’s voice breaks the spell.
“Hey, babe?” he shouts from down the hall. “About ready to head home?”
You pull your eyes away from Javier, focusing on the dishes in the sink while he pretends to be busy stacking plates.
“Um, yeah, just about done,” you respond.
Javier steps closer, his breath ghosting against your ear. “Tuesday,” he reminds you with a low growl.
Then, he’s gone, moving to help your dad with something in the backyard.
The drive to your apartment is quiet, Jack won’t shut up about the game's highlights while you stare out the window, watching the blur of the Texas country turn into Laredo streets. Right now, you couldn’t care less about football or how the Longhorns quarterback looked today. All you can think about is how Javier’s hands and lips felt.
Jack pulls up to your apartment building, turning off the engine and unbuckling his seatbelt, clearly expecting to come inside, just like usual. But tonight, the thought of inviting him in, of having to pretend everything is normal after what happened with Javier, makes you almost sick to your stomach.
"I think it’s going to be an early night for me," you say, offering him an apologetic smile. "I have a headache."
“Oh, that’s a shame, baby,” he says, disappointment hinting at his voice, but he nods. “Well, goodnight then,” he says, leaning in for a goodnight kiss.
You let him kiss you, a gentle peck returned by you. You feel nothing. No spark, no heat, none of the desperate desire as you feel for Javier.
You say your goodbye quickly, getting out of Jack’s car before he can try to change your mind. The walk to your apartment feels almost like a march of shame, guilt from your secrets weighing down your shoulders. But then, you think of Tuesday.
—-
A/N: Please follow @whocaresposted and turn on notifications to be alerted about new chapters!
My perma tags: @forspringcleaning, @schnarfer, @mothandpidgeon, @valevntine
stepdad!Javier Peña x fem!reader | wc: 4.1k | read on AO3
summary: After you run away from home, your stepdad Javi finds you on the streets with sex workers.
WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit. Step-cest (if that's an ick for you please do not read - you are responsible for the content you consume 🖤). Age gap (reader is early twenties, Javi is mid-to-late forties). Reader wears makeup and a dress and has hair long enough to get in her face. Running away. Mentions of sex workers. Semi-public groping. Dub con. Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Angry and protective Javi. Degradation. Rough sex. Protected AND unprotected piv. Creampies. Pussy pronouns. Spanking. Oral (f & m). Smoking. Breast/nipple play. Somnophilia. Overstimulation. Anal fingering/sex.
a/n: soooo I wrote a little follow-up to "Guessing Game" but this can be read on its own 🖤
dividers by @cursed-carmine 👑
JAVIER PEÑA MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST
Peña keeps his eyes peeled, a scowl on his face as he scours the street now lined with sex workers. Some of them Javi knows, but he's not interested in them tonight.
He's looking for you.
You ran off from the house after your mother commanded you to go back to your room and change. And she was right - that silver, skintight, strapless number was definitely going to get you some attention. He wanted to speak up and agree that you were old enough to wear what you wanted, but he kept quiet, an amused smile on his face as you and your mom started a screaming match. Nothing unusual for a Saturday.
Truth was, he liked you in that dress.
You wouldn't know it by the hard glare in his eyes as the SUV rolls through the dirty city streets. It's the bad part of town, the one you wouldn't step foot in even with someone to protect you. People would rob you in broad daylight for a couple bucks. Who knows what they'd get away with under cover of night? Beautiful girl like you? Javi doesn't allow himself to entertain the thought of what might happen.
That's why he's got to get you off the street and back to safety. He's just not sure how safe you're going to be once he gets his hands on you.
He's ruthless in his pursuit, about to circle back when he sees a flash of silver heading out from an alley. He brakes heavily, the vehicle coming to a hard, screeching halt. Some of the workers approach him as he rolls the window down, offering themselves in crude and vulgar terms. He's heard it all before. Hell, he's done it all before. But he waves them all away, telling them to beat the pavement.
"Chica! La del vestido plateado!"[Girl! In the silver dress!] He shouts, watching you pause and turn ever so slowly. Your eyes grow wide and you start to run, but it's difficult in those platform heels you just had to wear tonight.
He's out of the car, catching up to you easily, grabbing you from behind, careful not to tackle you. He would hurt you but he wouldn't hurt hurt you. "What the fuck do you think you're doing out here?" he hisses in your ear. "Are you fucking stupid? There are maniacs out here who would rip you apart!"
Still holding you, he hails a taxi, shoves you inside first then gets in and presses you down on his lap, the better to keep you so you can't escape. He doesn't put it past you to hurl yourself from a moving vehicle. His hands slide up under your dress as he gives the driver the address of a nearby motel.
"What do you think you're doing?" you hiss at him, despite the growing wetness in your panties. You cast a glance at the driver in front.
"He's not paying attention," Javi whispers, pulling you back roughly against him. "Eres muy traviesa [You're very naughty] walking the streets with those whores? I guess that makes you a whore by association." His fingers dip under your panties, easily finding your cunt, parting your folds with his fingers. "Hoping to make some money to score some more coke? Or maybe it's pills you want." He slips one finger in, rolling his hips up against you as he does.
"Fuck!" you whimper, pressing down on him, needing something to alleviate the growing need in between your thighs.
"No seas tan ruidoso." [Don't be so noisy.] He buries his nose in your hair, getting a whiff of your shampoo. "Am I gonna have to shut you up?" He twists your head to the side to meet his kiss, rough and hungry, punishing. Your tongue duels with his as you moan into each other's mouths. "Joder," [Fuck] he murmurs as the cab pulls up to its destination. "You're really gonna get it, you know that, princesa?"
He pays for the room, his hand on your hip, a strong hold so you won't get away. Not that you would. You know exactly what you're in for with Javi. You've had his dick in your mouth before and since then you've drenched your pussy in daydreams of what it would feel like inside you. Now's your chance.
He brings you to the room, a sparsely-decorated, utilitarian space, meant only to be slept in or fucked in. No comfort. Even the TV doesn't work. You're willing to bet you'll only get a cold shower in the bathroom.
You could use one now.
Javi's grip on you tightens before he pushes you down on the bed, your dress riding up even more, the slick between your thighs showing glossy even in the dim light.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" he roars. "Hanging out in the streets? Were you hoping to find a john? Get fucked up the ass by some pervert? You should have seen how worried your mother was!"
You roll your eyes and it only sets him off further. "You have no idea of what the real world is like. You have it easy! Those fuckers out there are surviving. You don't know how to do that."
"Stop lecturing me! I was only having fun!"
"I don't know why I expected better from you. You're a puta after all." He prowls the room then suddenly stops, watching you sitting on the edge of the motel bed.
"You want to act like a whore, I'll damn well treat you like one," he growls. "Ahora te voy a follar. [I'm going to fuck you now.] Take off that dress and get on your goddamn hands and knees."
"What the fuck-"
"I'm not playing around, sweetheart," he warns, already unbuckling his belt, shoving his jeans down. He pulls off his shirt and tosses it to the ground, watching as you timidly pull your dress off. "Shy now? Que mono. [How cute] Stop pretending. Everything off now."
Your heart pounds faster than before, your blood roaring in your ears. You feel his hands on you, grabbing at your ass, groping your cheeks and pulling them up and apart, fingers prodding at your exposed pussy. "Tan jodidamente mojado."[So damn wet] Maybe you''re right to walk the street corners. Maybe you're meant to be a whore after all."
He pulls away for a moment and grabs a condom from his pocket, tearing the wrapper open and sheathing it over his generous length. He wastes no time in nudging his fat tip into you, too angry and frustrated to worry about teasing you like he's always fantasized. He bottoms out in one go, immune to your whimper of discomfort. "Tan apretada.."[So tight] His hands grip your hips tightly, controlling the movements, fucking you furiously and steadily. "Are you always this wet? Or is it just around me?"
Your face is buried in the sheets, completely at his mercy as one of his hands keeps your back down, pushing down between your shoulder blades. "It's just you," comes your muttered response, holding back your gasps and moans as he pummels into you.
Javi grunts in surprise as you willfully take what he gives. He picks up the pace, landing a smack on your ass cheek. "You're just a set of holes for me to play with. That's all you'll ever be to anyone," he utters. "No vas a ser capaz de caminar por la mañana."[You're not going to be able to walk in the morning.]
Your orgasm hits you by surprise, a tidal wave that knocks the breath out of your lungs. "Oh! God! I'm coming!" you're barely able to scream as you tighten around him, milking his cock and drenching him.
Javi holds off, despite how tempting it is to just fill you up with every pump. He manhandles you, positioning you over him so you can ride, your supple body like heaven beneath his rough touch.
"Montame como si tuvieras que ganar un premio,"[Ride me as if you have to win a prize], he says through gritted teeth.
Your brows furrow in pleasure, your hands braced on his chest. "I think we're both going to win a prize.." You cry out as he bucks up against you, pulling him up to kiss him as your nails dig into his back. Javi moans in surprise, kissing you back messily, mostly tongue and teeth as he rolls you over to be on top.
"Javi! Come with me!" you gasp, legs over his shoulders as he thrusts fiercely into you, leaving you no doubt that you'll be feeling him tomorrow and the days after. "I'm coming, baby," he grunts, hips slamming into you as he feels you tighten around him again. He groans loudly into the crook of your neck, hips stuttering as he comes, filling the condom.
Both of you are breathless in the aftermath. He slips out and disposes the condom, your scent still on him. He's soft now, not just his cock but his demeanor.
"Don't ever do that again," he mutters, holding onto you.
"Do what? Fuck you?"
"Don't be stupid. I mean don't go to that part of town ever again, alone or otherwise. Got it?"
"Aw.. I think you really care about me," you tease him.
"I just don't want to see you dead in a gutter somewhere.."
He's wearing that mask of indifference again, the one that drives you wild because you know he's hiding his true feelings beneath. He might say he's saving his own ass, but he's hiding that he cares.
Maybe you're just soft towards him because he made you come.
"Alright, I have to go pee," you shift him off of you. "Date prisa,"[hurry up] he tells you, swatting at your naked thigh as you leave the bed. He sits up and watches you walk into the bathroom, admiring the view, and then removes the spent condom, tying it off and throwing it into the trash.
Your reflection shows smudged mascara, lipstick kissed off, hair a mess. So you've just fucked your own stepfather. Blowing him to get out of trouble was one thing, but this has become an entirely different game. No one has ever made you feel that way before. Not the young guys you hang out with. Javi knows what he's doing with that dick, and despite the fact that there's a part of you that still detests him, you can't deny that fucking him on the regular would be fun.
The moment you get back into bed your phone is ringing in your purse on the nighstand. Groaning, you look at the screen and see your mom calling. "Jesus.. I don't want to talk to her. You answer it," you tell Javi. "Tell her I'm with you and that I'm safe."
He gives you a glare before taking the phone and accepting the call. "Darling, it's me. Your daughter's fine, she was at a club, but I picked her up and we're getting something to eat." The lie comes so easily.
"Mhm, she's here with me. We got some burgers and we're pulling over to eat. Poor thing gets motion sick when she's been drinking."
You stifle a laugh at the story he's weaving. Feeling mishcievous you straddle him, pressing kisses to his neck and chest, working your way down to his cock, stirring his desire once more. Javi tries to keep his composure on the phone, but your head disappears under the sheets and his voice nearly wavers. "She's too drunk to talk right now. Don't worry, she's in good hands.. Yes, you're right, she's a very good girl, just has a bit of a wild streak in her." He covers the phone as a groan escapes him, your lips wrapped around him, your throat sucking him down. He pulls on your hair to warn you, and your tongue swirls around him, teasing and arrogant. "Yeah, I'll take her to her friend Gabi's. Let her deal with her drunk ass. Then I've got to get back to work.. probably in the morning, okay? You know how this case is going." Finally his wife says bye and he hangs up the phone. "Eres tan traviesa, chica."[You're so naughty, girl.]
"And you like me that way." You're lifting his cock to tongue his balls, listening to him try to stifle a moan.
"You're gonna give me a heart attack," he says sternly, but his hand is soft, thumb caressing your jawline.
"I can't help it if I want you in my throat.."
Javi's eyes darken, his jaw tightening with restraint. "Ponte a trabajar, cariño."[Get to work, honey]
His hips twitch under you as you continue, deep-throating him while your hand strokes his base, slurping slobbily on his dick. His fingers card through your hair, guiding you, thrusting up into your throat. "Tan buena.. tan puta.."[So good.. such a whore..] You tighten your mouth around him, taking him in deep as he thrusts once, twice, and comes, filling your mouth. You moan, swallowing with each salvo, drinking him dry. You lift your head, sticking out your tongue to show his milky cum before you gulp down the last of it.
He groans, pulling you up to him, kissing you ferociously, claiming your mouth. "You sure do act like a whore.. a good one."
"You'd know, wouldn't you?" you tease him. You know all about his extramarital adventures with women who used their body for currency, be it secrets or money or power.
You're rubbing your pussy along his length, making him grow hard again despite having just worked your magic on him moments ago.
You close your eyes, wanting him to nudge inside, just a little, just the tip. "Careful," he groans. "I don't have any more condoms. You good if I come inside? Or do you want it all over your face, or your ass, or your tits?"
"I don't care," you moan, settling down on his rigid cock, feeling him nestled deeply inside, skin-to-skin.
"Fuck," he grunts, hands steady on your hips as he guides you, but you know how to take the reins. Bracing yourself on his chest you bounce on his cock, your wet cunt squelching with each move, your tits bouncing as Javi runs his hands over them, pinching at your nipples, giving them a few light slaps until your skin stings. "Quiero llenarte,"[I want to fill you up] he growls.
You spread your thighs allowing him deeper. "You're going to drive me crazy," Javi moans, thumbing your clit. He watches your head fall back in ecstasy as you come hard, without warning, soaking him. He pulls you down on him and bites down on your shoulder to muffle his moans as he comes, spurting his seed deep inside, several times.
Afterwards, you shift as he softens and slips out of you, a sticky white trail between your thighs. Javi's finger traces across your used slit, pushing the mixture of your come and his back into you. "Let me clean you up," he offers, moving over you and settling between your legs. He wraps his arms around your thighs, pinning them in place as his tongue traces your crease, keeping a firm grip on you as you buck up against him in ecstasy. He licks up the cum, the shiny desire that glazes your cunt, the tip of his tongue teasing your clit. His lips purse around the small bud, sucking as you thrash beneath him, his mustache tickling your skin. Your vision goes white as you come, his name on your lips like a begging prayer. Javi doesn't stop until you push him away, your nerves oversensitive.
"Got any cigs?"
Javi grunts. "They're in my pants, look for them." When you get up he gives you a smack on the ass. You swat him back, finding the cigarettes in his jeans, discarded on the floor. You get the lighter too and bring the pack back to bed, lighting one for you and for Javi. Taking a long drag and exhaling slowly, you feel the nicotine start to work its magic, mellowing you out.
"So after tonight.." you turn on your side to look at him. "..we go back to normal?"
"After what just happened?" Javi looks skeptical. "Impossible."
You wake to his cock inside you, his lips nipping at your neck. One particularly deep thrust has you crying out, reaching out for him behind you, against your side. Sneaking a glance at the motel clock you read it's 6 a.m. "Javi," you moan, half-irritated and half-aroused. "It's too fucking early for this, Javi.." But you're still choking his cock, pushing back against his eager thrusts.
"Keep moaning my name," he orders breathlessly, the headboard tapping against the wall, likely waking anyone who's sleeping in the room next door. He moves you onto your stomach as a symphony of sounds leaves your lips: sighs and gasps, excited squeals as he hits your g-spot. His teeth nip at the side of your neck, hands planted on either side of your head. Your hips raise to get every inch of him inside your snug warmth and he pushes into you over and over, his hips meeting yours in a hard, rough pace. He growls into your skin: "Voy a hacer todas las cosas malas que se me ocurren.."[I'm going to do all the dirty things I can think of]
"Fuck! Yes! Do anything you want!"
"But first I want you to come.. choke this big cock with your pussy.."
You scream his name, muffled by the pillow as you come hard once more. Tears sting your eyes as he keeps going, fucking you through your orgasm, not allowing you a moment's rest. You're covered in sweat and tears, your bodies making obscene noises as you move together, another climax creeping up, the roughness of the motel bedsheets hitting your clit in just the right way as Javi keeps you pressed down.
"Grita por mí.. quiero escucharte,"[Scream for me.. I want to hear you] he growls.
"Ohhh! Oh god!!!" Your walls squeeze him tight, daring him to spill again, beckoning him to give you all his cum. The hard slapping of flesh on flesh continues as you moan and gasp in unison. Javi finally finishes, his release coating your walls, so much of it it's dribbling out as he's still buried deep. He collapses on top of you, his face pressed in your hair, his breathing labored. He slowly pulls out of you, laying on his back on the bed, his limbs like jelly, completely exhausted.
You're so sore it's a relief as he pulls out, the sheets beneath you drenched with your release. Maybe you even squirted, you were too far gone to realize it if you did. You can only mumble incoherently into your pillow, squeezing out his leavings from your poor, used-up pussy.
"What was that?" he grunts, reaching for another cigarette on the nightstand.
"I said I need a fucking shower," you say louder, and he gives your ass another smack for being rude.
"You shower with me," he says, a command and not a suggestion. "Come on, I'll carry you in there if I have to."
He makes good on his word, carrying you bridal-style into the less-than luxurious bathroom. If the bedroom was any indicator of what kind of motel this was used for, the bathroom shows it as well. This could only be a place to relieve yourself and get cleaned up. The mirror has a small crack in it, the faucet has low water pressure even when turned all the way on, and the shower curtain looks like it came from something cheaper than a dollar store.
As you're washing your face at the sink Javi slinks up behind you, fingers finding your clit, rubbing softly.
"It's too much," you whine, your breath catching as he caresses you.
"Mm.. te duele?"[You're hurting?]
"Yes, you worked her too hard." You wince at the rawness between your thighs, your pussy still sore. Javi nips at your neck, smirking against your skin, very satisfied with what he's done to you. "That's the life of a whore, you know," he teases. "This little pussy getting worked every night, cocks of all sizes pushing into it.. and when they get tired of it they'll go to this other, tighter little hole." His little finger traces your rim, aided by the wetness still between your legs, until you're squirming in his embrace.
"Javi," you groan in impatience, moaning as he starts to wiggle his finger into your puckered hole.
"Just can't wait to be filled, huh?" he grunts. "Just wait until you have two cocks at once. You get paid extra for that." He starts to thrust his finger into your ass, leaving your pussy neglected, squeezing around air. He takes some pity on you, using his free hand to rub your clit, smiling a wolfish grin as your hips seek out his touch, thighs opening just a little.
"I thought you were too sore, querido," he taunts. "Do you really need to come that badly? Even after the thrashing this little panocha [pussy] had all night?" He grabs a bottle of lube from the drawer and pours it into his palm. "Get up on the counter. I want you to be able to watch." He sets you up, your feet planted on the counter as he ensures you're spread wide for him.
He glides the lube onto his shaft, coating it liberally, and spreads some on your tight opening, gently easing his finger in again, watching you squirm in pleasure and impatience. "Think she can handle it?" he murmurs. "She's gonna get stretched real tight."
He pushes his finger in to the knuckle, both of you gasping at the feeling. "Mierda,"[shit] he mutters, thrusting in slowly, his thumb coming to the front to rub your clit. Gasping, you clamp down around his finger, your empty pussy walls fluttering as well when he adds a second finger to your ass.
"Oh no, you don't get to come yet," he teases, feeling you clamp down around him. "You don't get to come until I'm inside you, good and ready to feel you fall apart on my cock."
He presses you back against the countertop, giving your ass a squeeze as he lifts your legs in the air. He teases the tip of his cock against your well-used cunt, enjoying the soft whine that leaves you as he teases in just a little, just to see what you'll do. "Javi," you groan. "Please, please, just use my ass."
"How can I resist such sweet begging?" he growls, pulling out and slapping your clit with his cock. You jerk with the sudden sweet sting.
He pushes in partway, not waiting for you to catch your breath before he pulls out again, spreading your hole with his thumbs and guiding himself back in, the slippery lube making it easy for him to get inside you. You let out a gasp, fingers digging into his forearms as he takes your ass, your hole stretching to accommodate him. "Que apretada,"[how tight] he grunts, starting to saw his hips back and forth, your legs over his shoulders as he uses his grip on your thighs for leverage. The rhythmic sound of his hips against your ass, bare skin smacking on bare skin, fills the small room, echoing off the tiles.
Javi watches the pleasure flit across your face, your brows knitted together, plump lips in an O, your breath coming out in short puffs. "You like it, huh?" he teases. "Keep your eyes here, baby. Watch yourself getting fucked by me." He grips the nape of your neck to bring your gaze between your legs, where his cock is plunging in and out, your pussy growing wetter with each thrust, your juices dripping down to where you and he are joined.
"So fucking good for me," he whispers, claiming your lips in a torrid kiss, all tongues and teeth and biting. He's swallowing up your moans, sawing into you faster. "Come for me, baby.. come for me while I'm fucking your tight little ass.."
He presses two fingers deep into your pussy, massaging your g-spot as he keeps thrusting into your ass. The pleasure of being filled in both places is almost too much, overtaking you. Javi groans as you grip him tightly, your eyes nearly rolling back in your head as you scream out, coming hard on his fingers and his cock. He follows soon, spilling his hot load into your ass, not wasting a drop.
"Necesitas una ducha,"[you need a shower] he murmurs, slipping out of you at last. "I can't bring you home dripping my cum from your pretty little ass.."
no-pressure tagging those who showed love for Guessing Game: @milla-frenchy @axshadows @everybodylovedcontractors @pascalitobarnes @marisemonteiroo @kindahecticinside @galaxyedging @aurorawritestoescape
CW: smut (oral female and male receiving, unprotected p in v, restraints and blindfold, free use, this is porn with no plot), mention of alcohol, swearing, 90's typical misogyny. Written in the third person.
Reader is abled body and almost no physical description, she has hair that can be tied up, and that's it, but if you notice anything please let me know.
A/N: I said I would never write Javier Peña again, and yet here we are. This is all @iknowisoundcrazy 's fault and so you should thank her for it. I'm sick and bored (and a little feverish), and this is what happened. Thank you for being, as always, the devil on my shoulder whispering "Do it it!" and for helping me when I need it.
I'm also gifting this to @half-moon16 because I hope Javi will make her feel a little better.
I'm always happy for comments and/or reblogs, so please don't be shy !
Main masterlist | Read on AO3
Dividers by @/saradika-graphics
"Are you going to be good for me, Peña?" She purrs in his ears, her breath tickling the skin of his neck, a part so sensitive she loves to nibble on it, kiss it, suck it. Never caring if she leaves a mark.
"They'll just think it's another one of your informants," she always says, whenever she leaves a visible one, which is often.
She likes marking him, claiming him. Even if he doesn't do that anymore, see the girls. Not since he's been back in Bogota, not since he's in charge. But who would know? And who would guess that the one leaving the marks would be the ambassador's attaché. The one he argues with all the time. The one who calls him "DEA's bitch" and the one he calls "the bossy lackey", since she was assigned to be the liaison between him and the ambassador. More like surveillance, Javi said. Hating the awareness of her always looming over, while he secretly admired her shape in those tight pencil skirts, and her mind with her sharp retorts and clever jabs.
He had been dreaming of either killing her or fucking her, sometimes both, for many months, when he finally was able to fulfill one of his fantasies. Taking her in his office after another screaming match, one that took place late, when everyone had left, while they were half drunk after too much whisky, pouring and arguing over surveillance documents. They always argued, they always disagreed. But in reality, they respected and admired each other, something they had confessed once the sexual tension had been broken. At least after it had been broken a few times. The first time, never to happen again. Then happening again in the archives room, in the copy room, in her office, and in his office, again. Now, in his apartment, mostly. More often than hers, since it posed less risk of being discovered. Secrecy was essential. And also a little hot.
It started to feel like they were an item, although they never said it out loud. No, they didn't discuss it. The lingering feeling between them. The fact that sex, now, ended up with them sleeping together. And that sometimes it was only that, sleeping in each other's arms, too tired for more, needing just comfort and warmth. That her stuff started appearing in his place. Not much, but enough. That she cooked in his place more than in hers. That she was rarely in her place anymore. But they didn't say anything. Because what was there to say, or to do about it? He was a womanizer with a bad reputation that no one trusted, yet every woman in his office tried to make a pass at him. She was a cold-hearted bitch with too much ambition, that every man hated, while secretly wanting to fuck her.
They both worked too much, drank too much, and kept their feelings deep inside. No vulnerability, never.
And the sex was good. Fucking great. He let himself be with her like he had never been with anyone before. Trying things that he would have hated with anyone else, making him question himself. Exploring his body, losing control, letting her take it. Like right now, his hands tied up above his head with a scarf, and a blindfold on his eyes. Helpless to her desire, her whims. She could hurt him; she could take anything from him. And he would let her. Because he secretly loved it.
She had tortured him for what seemed like hours. Touching him, every part of his body, except where he wanted it the most, where he needed it. She had dragged her breast on him; he felt her nipples harden, heard her gasps when she finally let him put his mouth on them. She has kissed his thighs, grazed his balls, but left his shaft untouched. He felt like it was going to break, he could sense his cock ready to burst, painful. He could come just from a touch. Having been denied for so long, when she had come twice.
First, riding his thigh as she told him what she had planned for him, trying to break him as he remained stoic, a stupid game he decided to play. He would not beg. The second time riding his face, as he feasted on her. Even with his hands tied up, he could still make her cry out. He felt so smug, having her break when he was supposed to be in her power. His mouth still wet from her, his mustache smelling like her. He was ravenous, wanting to eat her whole, to consume her.
Her latest torment was biting his nipples, discovering that the pain bordered on pleasure, making him almost break, trying to free himself from the restraints, the sensation being almost too much for him.
And now she's punishing him. He can sense her hovering above him, but can't feel her touch, and she's taunting him, humming in his ear, making him whimper. He's fucking whimpering, ready to beg just to feel something, just anything. He hates her so much. He fucking loves it. Loves her.
"I asked you something, Javi." He can hear the smirk. She's going to pay for this. She knows it, but she doesn't care.
"Yes," he rasps, his voice is raw from the constraint he's trying to show, from the desire eating him up. "I'll be good."
She lets out a small laugh, almost cruel, and then she says something that makes him melt, something that makes him hate himself for loving it so much.
"Are you going to be a good girl? Are you going to be my good girl?" Her voice is low, gravely, dripping with lust. She's as turned on by his reaction as he is by her words. His eyes roll back, and his back arches from the bed.
"Yes, Please. I need you. I need to feel you on me, around me." The warmth of her body above him disappears, making him whine from the loss.
And then it's bliss, a lick on his tip, another one, and another one. He moans loudly, the sensation exquisite. This is the best he's ever felt. But then her mouth encapsulates his head, tongue circling it, and the pleasure grows even more delicious.
"Fuck! Fuuuuuck, baby."
Taking him deeper, he feels her mouth surrounding him, warm and wet, tongue playing with the vein on his length. No other part of his body touched, only the one that had been denied so long. Bliss turns into torture because he's going to fall, he's going to surrender too soon, and he never wants this to stop.
"I'm gonna… Stop, I'm gonna come!" The urgency of his voice makes her stop right away.
"What is Javi? Can't keep up? Is this too much for you?" He growls and lets out that insult, the one he reserves for work, the one that makes her laugh in the intimacy of the moment, and she warns him, "Be careful, good girls don't say things like that."
"I'm sorry. Please. I want to be inside you." Begging again. She's diabolical.
"Shh. Don't worry, I gotta you."
He senses her straddling him, her hands on his chest, settling. Then one on his cock, angling him between her folds, coating him with her slick. So wet he gasps, the sensation so good. But it's nothing compared to the feel of her when she slowly, oh so slowly starts to swallow him, her pussy taking him in, inch by inch, at such a torturous speed, until she's finally seated on him, letting her wall adjust. The sound they both make in unison is sinful. He's glad to know the next-door apartment is still empty. Something they had both been delighted to hear. Letting themselves be so much more vocal in their shared pleasure.
"Fuck, Javi, you feel so good. Such a good girl for me." She's moving slightly, starting to find a good rhythm, one that suits her needs, bouncing on him and grinding her clit on his pelvis. He tries to move, to push inside her, but she orders him to stay still. That's his punishment for the insult: to take what she gives, and that's it.
A suffering he is willing to endure, the rhythm too slow for him to come yet, but still so good with the warmth of her pussy engulfing him. Hearing her take what she wanted, hands on his chest, shoulder, nails marking him as her gasps turn to moans, and moans turn to cries when he senses her flutter around him. So distracted by her pleasure that she doesn't notice when he manages to set himself free, staying still like she ordered. And when she starts to come, when she's out of the world for an instant, he grabs her hips to thrust deep, prolonging her orgasm, making her scream in surprise and pleasure.
When she falls limp on him, he finally takes his revenge. Ripping off the blindfold, turning them around, her back on the mattress, her wrists in one of his hands, held tight over her head, his other hand gripping her thigh open, he plunges deep inside her, setting a harsh pace, his own voice low and steamy as he mutters in her ears "Now, who is going to be the good girl?"
Thank you for reading ❤️
tagglist (also adding people who might be interested) please let me know if you want to be added/removed: @grogusmum @here-briefly @javierpenaismyhusband @mani-pedro @lillaydee @littlemisspascal @harriedandharassed @sunnytuliptime @picketniffler @sawymredfox @cuteanimalmama @baronessvonglitter @milla-frenchy @half-moon16
1k0 | Javier Peña x fem reader x Steve Murphy | ao3
Summary: you wake up in Javi's apartment during the night, then enjoy a nice morning
Warnings: 18+ mdni. mfm, somnophilia, free use, fingering, degradation, oral (f/m), very light piss kink, cum eating. No age specified
a/n: sometimes you chat with friends in discord, thirst over pics, and an idea of an unprompted ficlet comes to life (on the 10 year anniversary of Narcos 😍😍😍). We hope you’ll enjoy it ❤️ We’re working on the next part 💕🖤
@aurorawritestoescape, love you so much baby 🫶💕 @toxicanonymity Thank you for being here with us since part 1 🐨🖤🫶 dividers @/saradika-graphics 🙏
Kate's masterlist | Milla's masterlist | series masterlist | part 3
You woke up before sunrise, feeling heat in your lower abdomen. You wondered where you were for a second, until you saw Steve's profile in the dark, his chest rising up and down slowly. Javi's apartment. Your foggy mind fully cleared up when you heard Javi's voice.
“Don't wake him up, putita.”
You were lying on your stomach, knee bent towards Steve. Javi’s fingers were digging into you from behind, while he was kissing and nibbling at your shoulder.
“Javi?”
“Our cum is still flooding your cunt.”
“Fuck, that's… that’s good, keep going, please.”
He chuckled slowly, then murmured “always fucking horny,” in your ear, his fingers pushing in and out. “Right?”
“Yeah,” you whispered.
“Turn around. Now.”
This motherfucker knew too damn well that you always happily followed his commands. Knew that it always turned you on.
He climbed down your body, pushed on your thighs with his shoulders and spread your folds with his fingers.
“Shame it's too dark to see us dripping from this hole,” he said before bringing his digits to your mouth to lick them clean.
You applied yourself, tasting their release and your arousal, the mixture making you clench with need while your eyes were fixed on Javi.
“Such a slut,” he smirked, grabbing at your thighs and diving between them to eat you out.
“Mmmm,” he hummed, lapping at your cunt, drinking all of it, from your puckered hole to your clit.
“Pussy's too good, baby.”
You came quickly, trying to hide your moans from Steve as best as you could.
Javi lay down next to you and held you possessively against him, burying his nose in your neck.
“You don't wanna fuck?” you asked.
“Nah, we’ve been railing you all night. Balls drained,” he groaned.
You fell back asleep with a smile on your face.
You woke up later in the morning needing to go to the bathroom. Javi and Steve were still asleep and you slipped out of the bed then closed the door behind you quietly. You sat on the toilet and sighed with relief before the door opened and Steve came in.
“Morning, baby,” he said in a hot sleepy voice, his gaze roaming you from head to toe. “Hot,” he smiled.
“The sound or the view?”
“Both. Wanna suck me off a little, before I take a shower?”
“Yeah, come here. Gonna do it right here.”
He stroked his already hard shaft and got closer.
“Mmm, someone's got a kink?” you teased.
He stood before you, his height was perfect for you to take him in your mouth, still sitting on the toilet.
“Seems so, sweetheart…”
You took him between your lips, your eyes locked. He tasted like you and you gushed. They had been fucking you all night, one at a time or both, but you could never get enough of them. God, they were hot.
You licked Steve’s length once you no longer tasted yourself on his tip, erasing the traces of the night there, then moved down to his balls, which were covered in your slick, as well. He placed his hand on the wall above your head when his knees started to shake.
“Shit, baby…” he stammered.
“Come in my mouth." You looked up at him, your tongue running up his cock.
“No… Gonna fuck you in the shower. Come with me, baby.”
Moments later you were caged between Steve’s broad frame and the shower wall.
“Ouch”, you hissed, when the cold tile bit at your naked back, and Steve chuckled, “My bad”. He manhandled you around and placed your palms on the wall.
“Better, sweetheart?” he whispered in your ear, his muscular arms wrapped around you, his cock poking your asscheek and then sliding between your thighs. You felt his hot tip rub against your wet folds and moaned,
“Much better.”
You were stretched so well, your pussy easily took Steve’s huge cock, when he tilted your hips and plunged inside you in one go. He started the shower with one hand, the other kneading your tit, and soon hot water was cascading down your arched back, reaching the place where you two were connected.
“Ahhh… always so wet for me,” Steve groaned and began driving his length in and out of your cunt hard and fast. The sounds of water splashing, skin-on-skin slapping and your loud moans filled the steamy room.
“Shhh, keep quiet, baby. You’ll wake Javi up.”
“Don’t want him to join us?” you smirked, glancing back at Steve with hazy eyes, and the man chuckled before responding through heavy breaths,
“Love sharing you with him — but I’m a man — men are possessive creatures.”
You could understand it. Being fucked by both Javi and Steve was the best thing ever, but when each of them had you to himself… it felt special, made your connection stronger and you valued it.
Steve nibbled on your earlobe, not pausing the thrusting, and muttered, “remember who made you come first, beautiful?”
“You, Steve”.
Warmth was spreading not only in your lower belly, but in your chest as well, so you turned your head to the side, wrapped your hand around the back of Steve’s neck, and pulled him in for a kiss.
Soon he was everywhere — licking into your whimpering mouth, stroking your puffy clit and twitching your nipple, while his cock was deliciously massaging your gummy walls.
It took mere seconds for you to fall apart in his arms and he immediately followed— standing under the hot shower you were coming together, bodies pressed close, lips glued, fingers intertwined, his cock spilling warm cum inside your clenching pussy.
“Fuck… that was hot,” Steve panted, sliding out of your hole, and turned you around. He kissed you again, now soft and slow, and you purred against his full lips, spent and completely satisfied.
Then Steve washed your body, taking his time, his palms gently gliding over your wet skin, and wrapped you in a big towel.
“Did we wake you up?” Steve asked with a smirk when you both found Javi making breakfast in the kitchen.
“Putita was moaning so loudly I bet half of the building’s up.”
You rolled your eyes, but Javi grabbed you and kissed you with vigor, his hands holding your face. Steve stood right behind you and you felt his soft lips on your neck. “Let’s wake the other half up,” he gruffed and pulled your towel down.
SUMMARY: You reunite with your childhood best friend when he arrives home from Colombia. Javier's sudden return to your life exhumes buried heartbreak, but he longs to set things right.
CW: Eventual smut. Reference to canon-typical violence, injury, and the death of a parent. Infidelity. Plenty of alcohol consumption, yearning, and angst.
parts are recommended to be read in the following order:
PART ONE: I'LL CARRY IT
PART TWO: YOU CARRY IT
one shot: GOING DOWN
one shot: DARK HEART
PART THREE: I'LL CARRY YOU
bonus one shots & more:
javier & lorraine's wedding day (drabble)
what about the ring? (headcanon)
javier confesses about colombia (and the girls) (drabble)
