irisskies

[irisskies]

The Graduate {Professor!Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Ratings: Explicit

Word Count: 15.9k

Warnings: Insults, rough sex, hate fucking, verbal sparring, power imbalance, age gap (everyone is legal), squirting, fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex (male receiving), slight exhibitionism, threat of being discovered, hurt feelings, angst

Comments: From the very first day in his class, you manage to piss Professor Tovar off. Thinking him antiquated as the history class he teaches. Verbally sparring with him until things turn physical in his office, you start hate fucking your professor every chance you get.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The moment that he saw you in his class, Pero Tovar knew you would be a pain in his ass. You’re obviously older, not the fresh faced idiots that he is used to teaching, there is almost a defiant glint in your eyes. “You have the wrong lecture hall.” He grunts. “This is the introduction to ancient civilizations.”

You frown, confused that the professor would assume you’re not in the right class. You hold up your phone with your schedule to show him that you are indeed in the right place. “Says I’m in the right room on here.” You point to the screen and he narrows his eyes, fumbling to put the glasses that are in his pocket onto his nose so he can make sure you’re right. 

“You look too old to be in here.” He hums and you scoff, “with respect, professor, it looks like you could have lived in one of the ancient civilisations you’re teaching about but I’m not rude enough to comment. I’ll take my seat.” You lower your phone and spin on your heel to take your seat in the front row.

Pero growls, not used to being challenged like this by his students and he doesn’t like the way his eyes drop to your ass for a brief second. Finding it to be a nice one before he whirls around and slaps his palm against the chalkboard. He had been asked to replace the board with the one that uses dry erase markers, but he refused. He hated the damn things. “This class will not be easy to pass.” He announces. “You don’t do the reading, you don’t pass. You don’t attend the lectures, you don’t pass.” He turns around the class. “Don’t pass, see if I care. I get paid whether or not you fail and waste your parent’s money.” It’s a practiced speech, repeated every new semester. “The books I require are available in the campus bookstore, but buy that shit from Amazon. It���s cheaper.”

You want to roll your eyes at his heavy handed threat of failure. Some professors like to bully in the first month so people withdraw from the class. You take your laptop out and he turns around to look at you just as you open it. “Pen and paper is preferred. You remember more if you write it down instead of typing it out.” He says, raising his eyebrows at you before he turns back to the board.

You don’t close the laptop, but you do call him an asshole under your breath. A few of the other students hear you and giggle. Making Pero pause again and turn around to glare at you before beginning to speak again. Making you roll your eyes as he starts outlining the course syllabus and telling everyone to take note of his office hours. “Jesus Christ.” You snort, finding him to be boorish and it’s a miracle he’s stayed employed by the school. His demeanor is horrible.

Pero doesn’t pause for anyone’s benefit as he outlines his expectations and the syllabus. When he turns back after writing everything on the board, the class looks half confused and half bored. He chuckles under his breath, knowing that half the class will be gone before the end of the month. He has to maintain his reputation as one of the toughest classes to pass. You close your laptop and Pero removes his glasses, dismissing the class with a grunt and a wave of his hand. You gather your things and stand up, walking over to him. “Is there anything online for the syllabus?” You ask and Pero snorts, picking up a piece from his desk and handing it to you. He typed up the syllabus on his typewriter and Xeroxed it to get copies. “Here you go.” He smirks slightly and you huff, taking the paper. “Welcome to Introduction to Ancient Civilizations.” He declares and you snort, “more like welcome to 1985.” You wave the typed paper and stride past him, making your way to your next lecture where technology is appreciated.

Pero hates you already. Scoffing as he looks down at his syllabus, several other students skitter by him and grab a paper. He doesn’t need to have his work online, there’s a better way to do it. He huffs as he looks at the roster for the class. You are going to be a pain in his ass and he’s hoping you are one of the ones that drops out.

**** 

It’s not an easy class to pass, that’s for sure. Professor Tovar is ruthless, allowing only typed and printed essays, quizzes are done by hand. Notes taken by hand. Your poor hand is exhausted. You know you’re the oldest student in his class. The classic return to school to finish your degree after your divorce story. Tovar hands you your paper back and you frown when you see “C” on the form. “Uh, what is this?” You demand, pointing at the paper.

Pero glances down at your paper and then back up to you. “I thought you were smart enough to understand that is your grade.” He snarks and a few of the students around you shift and cough to cover up an embarrassed laugh. “For future reference, I will mark the score you receive on the top of your paper in red, like this.” His tone is dripping with condescension, his attitude towards you not improving in the least when you sass him and give him snark every chance you get. It’s a fucking shame you’re attractive.

“I know it’s my grade. I’m questioning why it’s not an ‘A’” You ask and he snorts, remembering your paper more than most. “You cited the incorrect sources.” He almost smirks and you chuckle, reaching into your bag to pull out the book you need to return to the library. “That’s funny because the source I used is a book written by you.” You point at the book and his name on the front cover.

Pero rolls his eyes and flips over the paper to the reference page. “All your sources are websites.” He points to the online addresses. “I don’t accept those.” He knows what you are trying to do and it pisses him off. “Next time, if you have a problem with your deserved grade, speak to me during office hours.” He growls.

You clench your jaw, knowing his office hours are after your next class. You shake your head when he continues walking down the row to hand out the papers. He is infuriating. Your essay was good. Excellent really. It hit all the key points and you know half the kids are using Chat GPT to write their shit nowadays. You huff and gather your things to head to your next class, not looking back at him when you leave his lecture hall. After your next lecture is finished, you head to his office to protest your grade. Knocking on the door, he calls out for you to enter, and you storm in, paper in hand. “I demand to know why this paper got me a ‘C’.”

“Because the paper is worth a ‘C’.” He quips, barely looking up and dismissing you with a glance. “Anything else? I have a lot of other papers to grade.” He doesn’t care for you and has no interest in debating your pointless position of deserving a higher grade. He shuffles to another paper and starts to read while you stand over him.

You narrow your eyes at him, “I do not understand why online sources can’t be used when they are citing your book. I didn’t cite the page but the website. All the other professors allow it because they live in the 21st century.” You seethe, pointing at the sources at the bottom of your essay.

Pero slaps the pen down onto the desk, his chair scraping the floor as he shoots to his feet. “Because I don’t have time to check one thousand websites to make sure the little brats aren’t cheating.” He growls. “Putting in the work to research proper sources is good for you. Do some work for once.”

You shake your head, “maybe if you used technology you would find it easier to see if your students are cheating. There are programs that check sources and wording. You’d know that if you didn’t live in the dark ages.” You roll your eyes at him, “I mean, you’re older than me but I didn’t realize you’re that old.”

His brows lower and he curls his lip. “Not too much older.” He sneers. “Shouldn’t you be looking into your retirement packages rather than hounding my classroom?” He shoots back. “You are a little past your prime, eh?”

You gasp, rearing back from him, and you feel your stomach twist. “I - you’re a fucking asshole.” You hiss, uncaring if you get a bad grade or he targets you. He needs to be told.

“And you are a stuck up, know it all, bitch.” Pero growls back, leaning forward and glaring at you. “You should do us both a favor and drop my class.”

You glare at him, stepping closer to him, his eyes burning into you, and you don’t know who moves first. When you think about it later, you’ll say he made the first move but it’s hard to figure it out when your lips crash with his.

Pero Tovar has prided himself on never being inappropriate with a student. He’s made them cry, he’s made them angry but he’s never kissed one. You….you, he devours. Trying to establish dominance over your willfulness through sheer force as his tongue slides against yours and he swallows a gasp. Spinning you around and pinning you against his desk, pressing his hardening body against yours.

You moan unconsciously into his mouth. Despite him being an asshole as a professor, he’s a sexy man and you can’t help but lust after him. Those broad shoulders, dark eyes, and the scar on his cheek have you thinking about him late at night. Okay, so sometimes it’s thinking about his demise but sometimes it’s about him wrecking you on his desk. You are ashamed to admit it to yourself. You whimper into his mouth, shifting up onto his desk, papers flying everywhere as you kiss him back just as eager and hungry.

His hands slide down to your ass, squeezing it as he pushes your thighs open to step between them. Hungry and unable to think of anything but fucking the attitude right out of you, he slides a hand under your skirt to dive beneath your panties.

You gasp into his mouth when his fingers press against your clit through your panties. His teeth are crashing against yours until you tangle your fingers in his hair, keeping his head still. His glasses knock against your nose so you reach up to take them off, tossing them onto his desk before pressing your lips back to his. A moan vibrates against his lips when his fingers rub your clit.

Your moans are pretty and he’s desperate to hear more of them. Effectively putting your normally smart mouth to better use as he makes you submit to him. One hand squeezes your breast as he rubs your clit, twisting his wrist to press his thumb to the bundle of nerves before he pulls them away and starts to rip his belt open.

You should push him away, tell him no, but this energy between you fizzles and has you wet for him. The raw need between you is like nothing you’ve experienced before. His thumb against your clit has your fingers digging into his shoulders while he pulls his cock out. There’s no questions about birth control, no words as he pulls your panties aside and lines up. You close your eyes and take every inch with a gasp as he pushes into you in one thrust.

Pero hisses out your name, low and almost spitting it as he drives into you. Jaw clenched and holding onto you tight while your walls pulse around him. He's broken every rule he's set for himself and the school's faith in him, but he can't think about that. Not when you are so tight and hot around him. "Pain in my ass." He growls, pulling back to start hammering into you roughly.

You know that anyone could walk in the door right now and see you like this but you don’t care. You cry out and he lets go of your hip to cover your mouth. You reach up to grip his wrist, keeping his hand on your mouth as he starts to fuck you in earnest. It’s so good. The way he stretches you out is slightly painful but this gives way to the conflicting emotions you’ve had. The hatred and anger you’ve felt towards him warring with your attraction to him. This is the explosion of those feelings and he seems to be on the same page as the desk sways beneath you.

It’s fast and harsh, your body taking every thrust and your pussy gripping around him like a vice. It’s intoxicating and he leans in to press his lips to yours again after pulling his hand away. Knowing he would rather keep you quiet with his tongue than his hand. Grunting into your mouth as he continues to work in and out of your tight cunt. He would deny ever thinking about you with his hand around his cock, but he would definitely be thinking about this the next time he jerks off. 

You lift your thighs to wrap your legs around his hips, moaning into the kiss as your hands come up to tangle in his hair, pulling on the dark locks a little too hard. He hisses into your mouth and you smirk against his lips, loving his reaction. He’s infuriating and so sexy. A deadly combination. “Look at you, taking my cock like a good girl.” He coos against your jaw and your eyelashes flutter in bliss. “Fu-fuck you.” You choke out, walls gripping his cock as he pushes you closer to your orgasm.

“You are.” He grunts, his hips slapping against the desk painfully, but he doesn’t care. All he cares about is burying his cock inside you. “Fucking me like a needy little whore.” He chuckles. “Jumping your professor. Still won’t get you an ‘A’, no matter how tight your cunt is.”

You pull on his hair and he hisses again. “Don’t need you to increase my grade, just need you to - to do your fucking job.” You moan when he slides his hand down to rub your clit. “Yes. Just like that.” You pant, “and I - I didn’t jump you. You - you kissed me.” You defend yourself poorly, knowing you jumped at him with as much need. He’s been part of your nightly fantasies no matter how much you’d deny it.

Pero groans, too distracted by how you clench down around him to argue. You did jump him, desperate for his cock. So he’s going to make you cum, have you cream all over him and make your legs shake in pleasure. His fingers circle your clit in tight circles, keeping pace with the hard snaps of his hips. Groaning again as he feels your legs tighten around his hips. “Cum for me.” He demands.

You can’t deny him even if you tried. You gasp before you cry out, his mouth smothering his name as you clamp down on his cock. Your heels dig into his ass while you soak him and your hands slide down to his shoulders, trying to keep upright as he fucks you through your orgasm. “Oh God. Cu- cum for me. Safe.” You manage to choke out.

He pants, twitching violently inside you. Fingers digging into your hips as he holds you in place. Find the energy to increase his pace, barely keeping his hips from stuttering as he works himself closer. “Fuck.” He spits, biting his tongue to keep from rambling in Spanish as he is prone to do when he is fucking someone. He holds you tighter as his thrusts get sloppy. Grunting again as he pushes deep and paints your walls with hot spurts of his seed.

You keep your eyes open to watch him as he fills you up. His jaw clenched and his fingers digging into your hips. He looks feral and you fucking love it. He rocks himself through it, your cunt full of every drop of his cum, and you let him do it. “Holy shit.” You whisper, your senses returning as you realize what you just did. You fucked your professor.

Pero closes his eyes and sighs softly, pausing for a moment before he starts to pull out of you. Almost ashamed of what he’s done. He just fucked a student on his desk. He steps back and starts to quickly tucks his cock back into his pants.

You watch his demeanor change and you know it’s over so you pull your panties over the creamy mess he left between your thighs, shuffle off of his desk and tug your skirt back into place. “I- we shouldn’t have - we - shit.” You hiss, scrambling to grab your backpack from the floor.

Pero watches you go, frowning and feeling guilty when you rush out of his office. Sighing as he slowly moves to the door to close it behind you. He didn’t force you, but he can’t help but feel guilty.

****

When you arrive in his class the next day, you scurry to your seat, pulling out your notebook and you avoid looking at your professor as he writes on the board. His back muscles move under the thin white button down and you remember how they felt under your hands while he was inside of you. You stare at him until he spins around and you avert your eyes to the linoleum floor.

Pero glowers when you won’t even look at him. It makes him feel even worse about the fact that he had jerked off this morning thinking about how you had felt. He barks out the chapters he wants everyone to study and sits behind his desk, sulking.

You study the chapters he writes down, a sigh escaping your lips at the scowl on his face. You know you need to speak to him after class to address the elephant in the room. You can hardly concentrate on reading the pages in front of you, your eyes flicking up to look at Tovar every few seconds until he takes mercy on you and dismisses the class. You take your time, slowly putting your things away until everyone has left, and you approach him. "Do you, uh, want to discuss what happened yesterday?" You ask, glancing over your shoulder until you look at him again.

Pero clenches his jaw, stopping himself from being a sarcastic asshole. “We should.” He admits, wanting to hear from you that you regret it. He doesn’t, because he had felt a little softer towards you until you had avoided his gaze in the class today. “You go first.” He walks over to the door to shut it, leaving you alone in the lecture hall with no chance of someone overhearing.

You clear your throat and stand a little taller, refusing to crumble under his dark stare as he turns back towards you. “First of all, yesterday doesn’t change the fact that I think you’re a prick but - but I don’t regret it. I had a good time and I- I wouldn’t mind it happening again but only if - who am I kidding? You’re gonna say no.” You scoff, closing your eyes for a second as you remember why you’re back in school.

“You’re still a bitch, but I would fuck you again.” Pero snorts, almost relieved by your confession. “But we cannot do it in my office again.” He tells you. “Someone could have walked in and there would be trouble.” He tilts his head when you open your eyes, moth ajar in shock. “Perhaps your snotty attitude would improve with a regular orgasm.”

You huff and roll your eyes before you drag your gaze down his body, wondering what he looks like out of the smart trousers and button down shirt. "You want to come to my place?" You ask, "or I can come to yours?"

There’s a small smirk on his face as he appraises you. “I will come to your house.” He decides. “Make you feel better after you kick me out.” He snorts, knowing that after he makes you cum, you will send him on his way. “Such a shame such a nice ass is attached to a sour mouth.”

You scoff, "and such a nice dick is attached to, well, a dick." His chuckle makes your stomach twist and you hate how you want him even now. You walk over to his desk, grabbing a pen and a piece of paper. You make a show of bending over to write down your address for him and your phone number.

Pero watches your ass, grunting to himself as he swears it wiggles just a tiny amount. “You are a tease.” He’s not unhappy about that discovery, although his tone is gruff. “That will just make me fuck you harder.” He warns, chuckling to himself when you roll your eyes. “I wonder if you will be so sassy when I fuck your throat until you cry.”’

You smirk, turning around to walk over to him to hand the piece of paper over. “Maybe you’ll be nicer if you cum down my throat.” You counter, “or perhaps the best plan is to smother you with my pussy so you don’t say something to ruin this between us.” He takes the piece of paper and you step back, “seven tonight?” You ask, biting your lip.

He narrows his eyes at you, more amused than upset, but no one can really tell that. He’s got a face that makes most of the faculty avoid him and students fear him. It’s why your blatant sassy nature rubs him. “Seven.” He agrees, his voice raspy. “This time I want you naked. Not just pushing your panties to the side.”

“Yes sir.” You smirk, grabbing your books from the desk and you stride towards the door, unlocking it to exit into the hallway. You wink at him over your shoulder before you walk out of his lecture hall, inhaling deeply at the fact that you have started an affair with your professor. 

**** 

You exhale shakily, the clock reading ten to seven and you are wearing some sexy lingerie you haven’t worn before that was shoved in your dresser. Your dress is simple but short and you have a glass of wine in your hand to quell your nerves. Maybe he won’t show up. That would be the icing on the cake if he was messing with you.

Pero pulls into your apartment complex, calling himself an idiot as he parks. He shouldn’t be doing this. He shouldn’t fuck a student, but he damn sure shouldn’t fuck a student that he argues with nearly every fucking class you’ve attended so far. Still, he gets out of his car, the bottle of wine something that William had suggested when he rang his old friend to talk. The other man had laughed at him and told him to bring wine or chocolates. He wasn’t going to bring chocolates. This wasn’t that kind of a date. Finding your apartment door, he knocks, knowing he is a few minutes early.

You brush down your dress when you stand up, making your way to the front door, and you swing it open to see Pero standing there with a bottle of wine in his hand. “Hey.” You murmur, taking in his new button down and the jeans that make your mouth water.

“Hey.” He clenches his jaw, biting back a groan over how good you look. “This is for- whatever.” He holds out the bottle. “It’s a wine from my region.” He tells you, having taken the time to find one of his favorites to share with you. You won’t appreciate it, probably hate it, but he would have tried.

Your eyebrows raise at the bottle of wine in his hand, surprised at the gesture. You take it and inspect it for a second. “Rioja.” You hum, “very nice choice. You’re many things but I must admit I’m surprised to see you know your wine.” You step aside so he can walk into your apartment. “Do you want a glass of this? I have a bottle of Cabernet already opened.”

“Whatever you are drinking.” Pero won’t insist on you opening the bottle, not when you have a bottle already breathing. “Why do you think a man born and raised in Spain would not know good wine?” He asks, raising a brow. “My research has taken me all over the world.”

You walk into your kitchen and he follows you, “you seem more like a whiskey man.” You shrug one shoulder, setting his bottle down so you can grab a glass and fill it with the already opened wine. “To fucking in secret.” You toast, holding up your own glass when he takes his from your hand.

Pero snorts, smirking slightly. “To the taming of the shrew.” He grunts, enjoying the way you narrow your eyes at him. Even though he does not like being challenged in the classroom, he finds he likes your wicked tongue and your sharp wit. You aren’t the blockheaded inexperienced dolt like the others in the class.

You take a large sip of wine, setting your glass down after a moment to step closer to him. “You look good in jeans.” You confess, sliding your hands along his chest to play with the buttons of his shirt, “you look good in class. I usually sit there and think of ways to fuck you, after considering how to kill you.” You smirk, looking at him from under your eyelashes.

He huffs, lifting a brow. “I’ve thought about putting you over my knee in the middle of the lecture.” He admits. “But now I don’t know if it’s to beat your ass or finger you.” His cock twitches in his jeans when you flick a finger over his nipple under the shirt. “Did you argue with me because you wanted to fuck me, bonita?”

You scoff, “absolutely not. I think your ways are antiquated at best. Other professors don’t make us use book references, they use a Dropbox for essays. They use computers.” You flick the buttons of his shirt open. “You act like an old man when you’re not.” You admire the golden skin beneath his shirt, caressing it, and you feel his heart thump under your palm.

“Some older ways are better.” Pero protests, his pulse jumping slightly and his cock starting to harden. “Teaches them to think for themselves. Not to accept the first webpage that gives them the information they want. Checking references.”

You scoff, “you think they won’t cheat anyway? They can look up book references online and find the textbook online. Maybe you need to get with the times. Maybe someone younger can help.” You coo, leaning in to kiss his jaw as you slide your hand down to cup his cock through his jeans.

Pero grunts, his cock twitching against your palm. “You aren’t that much younger than me.” He reminds you. “Believe it or not, I know how the internet works.”

You chuckle, stepping back from him to pick up your wine glass. It’s fun to tease him, noticing the furrow of his brow when you pull away. “I am the oldest one getting their degree. That’s for sure.” You snort and take a sip of your wine, “couldn’t find a job worth much more than minimum wage so I had to go back to school.”

He frowns for a moment. “Divorce?” He asks, not sure why you wouldn’t have had an established career, unless you were married and had kids. He glances around the apartment and doesn’t see any sign of kids.

You sigh, nodding, “yeah. I made the mistake of getting married to the guy I met in junior year. He was graduating and told me to drop out of school when we got married. He was from money. Old money. He was spoiled and his parents bought us a house. He had a trust fund so he didn’t care about work but he worked with his father and wanted me at his beck and call so I was a housewife. I would go to Pilates in the morning, decorate the house, cook dinner. God, it sounds boring now. Then one day. I found out that he was fucking his secretary. His young secretary…who he knocked up. She was having a boy so his family made him divorce me so they could have the next heir to the estate. Thank God we never had kids. The pre-nup I signed as a naive girl ensured I got nothing so here I am, back in school and trying to figure shit out.” You hate how pathetic and naive you sound, letting a man control your life like that, but you thought it was true love.

“It sounds like you married an idiot.” Pero snorts, shaking his head. He takes a sip of his wine and wonders if to miss your ex, the life you used to have. “He should have encouraged you to explore your passions. Not….yoga.” He rolls his eyes. “He wasn’t even that good in bed, was he?”

You snort, nodding, “how’d you guess? I wasn’t a virgin when I married him but I wasn’t experienced and he - I didn’t know any better. I don’t miss that life. It lacked purpose. I want to do something meaningful. I want to preserve history for the future generations.” You explain, “and have some good sex.”

Pero chuckles. “My class is a good start for the first, my cock for the second.” He jokes, taking another sip of the wine. “If you pass, you might be a good historian. You are smart if you would stop arguing and listen.”

“Thank you…I don’t take orders very well nowadays.” You confess, taking a sip of your wine. “So…what’s your story? I’m guessing there’s no wife. No kids? No tragically sad story?”

Pero snorts, shaking his head at your sarcasm but he shrugs slightly. “I was married.” He confesses as he stands in your kitchen. “We were young, like you - married in college though we both stayed in class.” It takes him back to a painful time and he scowls as he talks. “We were studying ancient China for our masters degrees. Both of us were fascinated by the legend of the Tao Tei.” He blows out a painful sigh. “Did you know there are still raiders in the most isolated regions of the foothills?” He asks rhetorically. “We were attacked, she was killed, my friend William and I barely survived - and I was left with the scar that makes so many cringe when they see me.” He points to his face.

Your jaw drops, "oh my God. I- Pero - that's - I'm so sorry." You choke, setting your wine glass down. You step towards him and swallow harshly, "that - that is tragically sad." You lift your hands as if to hug him before you change your mind, knowing he wouldn't want your comfort.

“It was a long time ago.” It’s disappointing when you don’t touch him. “None of the staff or students know.” He warns. “Just you.”

You nod, "I won't tell anyone. I- I am so sorry, Pero." You decide to bite the bullet, even if he pushes you away. You wrap your arms around his waist, "you are justified to be a miserable bastard."

“It was a long time ago.” He murmurs again, shifting into you and pulling you closer. He doesn’t mind the feel of your body close to his and your empathy is surprising. “William said that I need to stop living in the past, so he would like you busting my balls.”

You breathe in the peppery cologne he’s wearing, it suits him, and you caress his back. “Yeah, you definitely need to get with the times but I understand why you don’t want to move forward. Something tragic happened to you.” You reach up to cup his cheek, “how about we sit down with the wine?” You ask, knowing that he won’t want to keep talking about his trauma.

You’re being uncharacteristically sweet, or maybe this is how sweet you are when you aren’t butting heads with him. He nods and picks up his wine glass again. “I do not need to be drunk to fuck you again, though.” He promises, smirking slightly. “Even if you are a pain in my ass, I have thought about that interlude.”

You smirk, taking his hand to guide him over to your sofa. “Don’t mistake my momentary lapse of sweetness to be a white flag on our working relationship.” You inform him as you sit down on your sofa. “Now, you mentioned fucking…” You wink and lean in to kiss his jaw.

He huffs, disguising his laugh with the grunt and pulls you into his lap. Your wine almost sloshes over but you manage to keep from spilling it on him. “That is what I am here for, sí? He asks. “You asked me to come over to fuck you. You liked my cock when you were creaming all over it.”

“You seemed to enjoy it.” You grind down onto him, taking a sip of your wine and you lean in, gripping his jaw with your free hand to push his lips open so you can dribble the wine into his mouth before you press your lips to his.

It’s erotic, you feeding him the rich Cabernet, he groans as he swallows and he takes his time sweeping his tongue through your mouth to give you the taste back. Blindly setting his wine down to wrap his arms around you and help you rock on his hard cock as you grind slowly.

You moan into the kiss, setting your glass down on the table behind before you tangle your fingers in his hair. “You’re such an asshole.” You pant against his lips when he pinches your ass under your dress. “You love it.” He chuckles and you want to roll your eyes but his lips are back on yours.

You’re eager for him, pressing your body against his and he squeezes your ass before reaching for the hem of your dress. Breaking the kiss to pull it over your head and tossing it to the floor. Grunting in surprise at the lingerie underneath. It’s sexy and shows that you put some thought into the night. He palms your breast through the lacey cup of the bra and bites your lower lip. “Bonita.” He growls. “You want to impress me?” He chuckles.

You scoff, “as if. I wore this for myself.” You lie and he sees straight through you. “Of course you did.” He snorts and you huff, “it’s new. I’ve never worn it before.” You admit and reach out to work on the remaining buttons of his shirt, wanting to see all of him.

"It is pretty, but you don't need such things to be sexy." He admits, pinching your nipple through the fabric and reluctantly pulling away so you can drag his shirt down his shoulders. He wants to touch you, to make you cry out again - loud this time.

You caress his exposed skin, taking notice of the faded scars, and you lean in to kiss his collarbone, sliding your tongue along the skin and up his neck. You press kisses to his skin up to his pulse and you grind down onto the bulge in his pants. “Good to know. Gonna save me some money on panties.” You tease against his jaw.

He grunts, cock twitching against your core. "Then you won't bitch at me when I do this." He smirks as he grabs the sides of your panties and rips them apart, making it easier to pull them away from your wet cunt so he can touch you.

Your gasp echoes in your living room, and you moan when his fingers slide through your folds, “fuck. Thought about your fingers inside of me when you were writing on the board today.” You confess.

He chuckles, rubbing your clit with slow circles. “You did not pay attention to my lecture then.” He chides quietly, leaning in and biting down on your nipple sharply.

You grin against his jaw, “hard to pay attention when you’re so fucking boring to listen to.” You gasp when he pinches your clit. “You are such a bitch.” He hisses and you giggle, “you love it.”

He scoffs, but he doesn’t deny it. His wife had been a ball buster and he had loved her with everything he had. He slides his fingers up and curls them inside of you, smirking when you moan.

Grinding down onto his fingers, you moan his name and fumble to unbuckle his belt, reaching in to pull his cock out after flicking open the button. “Fuck. You’re so thick.” You coo, pumping his cock while his fingers curl inside of you.

He grunts against your jaw, his teeth scraping your skin. He loves the way you shiver, you’re responsive, sensitive to someone giving you pleasure. This is just sex, you find him attractive enough to fuck, and old enough - considering all your classmates are nearly ten years younger than you.

You pant when he curls his fingers just right, your grip on his cock loosening slightly, and you whimper his name when he presses his thumb to your clit. “Fuck yes, like that.” You moan, unafraid to voice what you want with him.

He takes your direction easily, focusing on the way you want him to touch you. As harsh as he is, as miserable as he can be, he wants the woman he fucks to enjoy herself. He pushes his fingers in to the knuckle and presses them against your spongy walls, seeking that perfect spot to make you see stars.

“Shit. Oh shit.” You cry out, your jaw dropping open and your eyes close as he works you higher on his thick digits. “Pero. I’m gonna - you’re gonna make me - fuckkkkk.” You practically vibrate as you cum on his fingers, eyes rolling back while you soak his digits.

Pero growls, leaning in to kiss along your neck, still thrusting his fingers against that spot as you cum. Greedy for all the gasping, whimpering moans you will give him. “That’s it, bonita.” He coos roughly. “Get nice and wet to take my cock.”

“Yes. Want to - God, want you to fuck me.” You whimper and he stills his fingers inside of you. “But first, I want to suck your cock.” You confess, reaching down to pull his fingers from inside of you and you shift to kneel between his legs. Reaching out to wrap your fingers around his cock, you pull the foreskin down and lean forward to wrap your lips around the head. Your eyes watching him as you kneel between his thighs.

He curses, low and fervently in Spanish. Practically hissing the words as your lips wrap around the sensitive head and he barely manages to keep from rocking his hips up into your mouth. “Hijo de puta.” He clenches his jaw tightly.

You want him to be wrecked by your mouth, to see him fall apart. You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his cock. Your hand rests on his knee and you bring it to his chest, caressing his skin as you love the way he curses.

Giving you another moan, his head rolls back, leaning against the sofa. Enjoying the way you put pressure around his cock. You are eager and he would make a rude comment but he’s smart enough to not want to get bit.

You bob your head a little faster, sucking his cock with enthusiasm. You want him to love this, to feel good. Even if you think he’s a prick, you want him to want you. You pump what you can’t swallow with your hand, letting your spit dribble down into the coarse hair at the base of his cock.

Pero groans your name, cupping the back of your head and panting softly. Your mouth is the perfect combination of heat and wetness, the pressure amazing. “Fuck, you are so good.”

You moan around him, loving the praise, and you pump his cock a little faster, swallowing around him after you push his cock down your throat. Breathing harshly through your nose, you try to not choke.

“You-“ Pero whimpers when you twist your wrist and grabs your chin. “You have to stop. I do not want to finish like this.” He pants, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths to calm himself down.

You pull off of his cock, spit coating your chin as you look up at him, and you smirk. “Don’t think you can last, professor?” You tease, wanting to rile him up. You lick your lips and caress his thighs, “I thought you had more stamina than that.”

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you?” He huffs, thighs tightening under the fabric of his jeans. “If not, I’ll cum down your throat.”

You roll your eyes, shifting to stand in front of him and you reach behind you to unclasp your bra. “I am messing with you, professor.” You tease, leaning over him to hover your lips over his. “Wanna fuck me here or my bed?”

“Bed.” He rasps out, believing that you deserve more than a hurried fuck on your couch. “Take me to your bedroom.”

You take his hand, helping him up from the sofa, and you guide him through your apartment to your bedroom. You turn to face him when you’re in the room, your hands caressing his chest and you push his pants down his legs. “Want you inside of me again.” You demand, watching him kick his shoes off along with his pants.

“Lay down on your bed and spread your thighs, bonita.” He orders, stripping off his underwear and wrapping his hand around his cock and jerking it slowly.

You follow his order, shifting to lay down on the bed. Resting your head on the pillows, you spread your legs as you watch him kneel on the bed, his fingers wrapped around his cock.

“You have such a pretty cunt.” He praises you. “You just need to be fucked regularly and you’ll be sweet, no?” He teases, smirking when you glare at him. “So I will fill you up again and then you can study while you drip my cum.”

Huffing as he shuffles closer to you, you reach down to rub your clit, “you made me cum in your office on your cock but how do I know that wasn’t a one off?” You raise your eyebrows as you look at him, “maybe you won’t get me off and I’ll need to be a bitch again.”

Pero smirks, amused by your taunts and he lifts your leg up to put it on his shoulder. “Don’t worry.” He grunts as he shuffles closer and presses the head of his cock to your wet entrance. “Here you’ll be able to scream my name.” With a sharp snap of his hips, he buries his cock in one thrust.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he pushes deep inside of you, stretching you out. Your eyes closing until he growls, “keep your eyes on me.” You nod, struggling but managing to open your eyes. He starts to move inside of you and the angle has your chest heaving, “fuck, Tovar. That - that feels good.”

He huffs, wanting to point out that you had just challenged him. Told him that he might not make you cum. He has to prove you wrong. “You take it so well.” He hisses, twitching when you clench down around him. “So tight. Needed a good fuck, didn’t you? Those boys in your class couldn’t fuck you like you need, can they?”

You nod, mouth opens as a moan escapes your lips. “They are boys. They can’t satisfy me. I need a man. Someone who knows what they are doing. Is that you?” You challenge, squeezing your tits as he rocks into you. “You feel good inside of me but can you make me scream?”

His eyes are dark, lust filled as he rocks into you as he reaches down to pull your other leg up onto his hip and spreads his knees apart even more. “You’ll find out.” He promises. “How many times have you touched yourself thinking about me fucking you?” He demands.

You want to lie to him, want to tell him you’ve never imagined him while you touched yourself but you can’t lie when he looks at you like that. “A lot. From - from the first day. Imagined you fucking me on your desk in the lecture hall. In the chairs on the back row. Imagined you taking me in the hallway.” You admit, pinching your nipples until you let go of your tits, caressing his stomach as he pushes deep inside of you.

“Mierda.” Pero hisses, the sound whistling between his teeth. His hips rock forward a little harder. “You fought me because you wanted my cock? I could have given it to you sooner if you just told me. You didn’t have to go to such lengths.”

You giggle, “what can I say? I like riling you up. It’s sexy when you get pissed off. You thought I was a bitch so don’t act like you wanted me right off the bat. Did you jerk off thinking about me?” You ask, sliding your hand higher until you pinch his nipple.

Pero growls, his entire body lurching forward as he slams his hips into your ass again. “After.” He admits. “Jerked off when I woke up thinking about you. How you felt, sounded.” He groans when you clench down around him again in pleasure and he reaches down to rub your clit. “Fuck, you take me so well, bonita.”

You choke when he rubs your clit, hitting a spot inside of you at the same time that takes your breath away. “Fuck, Pero. You - you feel so good inside of me. Fucking hate how good you feel.” He thrusts deep again and you moan, “no. I love it. Keep going. Gonna make me cum like this.”

He chuckles darkly, slowing his hips down enough to make you whine and when you give him the sound he wants, he speeds up. Hammering into you harshly as he grunts from the effort

You cry out, your fingers digging into his upper arms as he bends you over, his cock hitting something deep and devastating inside of you. No one has fucked you like this. “Pero. Pero.” You almost thrash beneath him but he keeps you pinned down, “oh God. I - I’m gonna cum.” You admit breathlessly, “it’s - oh shit. I think I’m gonna pee.” You reveal and Pero chuckles, keeping his harsh pace. “Shitttt.” You squeal as you clamp down onto him, a gush of liquid squirting onto his lower stomach.

“Mierda, tan caliente.” Pero groans, slowing down his thrusts so he can feel your juices drip down. You squirted all over him and it makes him growl. “You soaked me, you little brat.” He huffs, proud of being able to make you do that. It’s obvious from the mortified expression in your face, you didn’t know your body could do that. “Do it again.” He orders, starting to rock his hips again.

You moan, feeling overstimulated and embarrassed but he seems to love it. His hips push against your ass and he grabs your leg from his hip, lifting it onto his shoulder to bend you over even more. "Oh fuck!" You cry, thighs starting to shake against his head as he rams into that same spot. "Pero. Oh fuck. That's - I'm gonna do it again." You pant, eyes clenching shut as you fall apart around his cock once more.

He groans your name, listening to the slick, sloppy sounds of your cunt and loving it. Feeling the splash of your juices soaking him even though he’s still not quite ready to cum. “That’s it, fuck, you’re so good at cumming for me.” He growls proudly. “Sleep like a baby tonight, eh?”

You nod, feeling lost in the sensations wrecking your body. "I want - want you to cum for me." You whine, hating how pathetic you sound and you'll cringe when you think back on it, but right now, you are lost in how good he's making you feel. "Want to wreck you. Let me - let me ride you." You demand, knowing you'll need a second to recover.

He doesn’t protest, he pulls out of you with a slight popping sound and lunges forward to press his lips to yours. Regardless of the animosity between you, it turns into raw sexual passion and he is quickly becoming addicted to it. Your legs fall and you push him back to roll him onto his back. Pero groans and reaches for you as you straddle his hips.

It's sloppy how you shift to sink down on his cock. Your hands sliding up his chest when you're fully seated on top of him. "Fuck. Feel even deeper like this." You moan, starting to grind on top of him. You surge forward to press your lips to his again, sliding your tongue against his.

His hands slide up your back and he holds you into place as you kiss him. He doesn’t take over, letting you command the experience right now. He groans into your mouth, flicking his tongue against yours.

Your fingers slide up to tangle in his hair, tilting his head so you can kiss along his neck, biting down on the skin before sucking a mark into his flesh as you rock on top of him. You want him to remember you were fucking him when he looks in the mirror

He almost rolls his eyes, but it feels too good to be too annoyed. Groaning quietly and twitching inside you as you slowly circle your hips. His hands slide up and down your back, gently rubbing and then down to your ass to squeeze.

You pick up the pace, leaning back so you can look at him, and you moan his name as he hits deeper inside of you. "Fuck yes." You moan, leaning back to brace your hands on his knees and you rock forward onto him, his eyes darting down to watch where he disappears inside of you.

Your tits start to bounce as you ride him. Making him look away from your cunt so he can stare at them and reach up to cup them after a minute. “You look so good on my cock.” He chokes out, squeezing your tits harshly.

"Good enough to break the rules." You chuckle breathlessly, moaning when he pinches your nipples playfully. You let go of his knee, sliding your hand down your stomach until you are rubbing your clit, walls fluttering around his cock.

​​Pero watches you again. “Good girl.” He rasps out, pinching your nipples again and tugging on them. “Make yourself cum again. You’re using my cock, aren’t you? Better than a toy? Or your fingers?”

You nod, "so much better." You confess, rubbing a little faster. "Fuck. I'm gonna - again. Shit!" You squeal, collapsing forward onto his chest as you start to orgasm once more on his cock. By now, you're exhausted but you want him to fill you up so you fight against your body, rocking onto him.

He wraps his arms around you and starts to move under you. Taking control now that he feels how boneless you are. Keeping his feet planted in the bed while he rocks up into you. “You want me to cum now, bonita?” He coos in your ear. “Fill that pretty cunt up so you can keep me inside you longer?”

"Yes. Yes. Please. Please cum. Wanna feel it. Wanna feel you inside of me." You beg, turning your head to press your lips to his, "please cum for me." You plead against his lips while he hammers up into you.

It doesn’t take long. He’s worn you out and that is what he wanted. Grunting and moaning, he works himself into you faster. Feeling the pleasure building up and he gives one final push, his cock painting your walls with hot spurts of cum.

You groan against his chin as he fills you up. You love the hot feel of his cum pressing against your womb, and you moan his name as he rocks himself through his climax. When he's done, you slump against him, kissing along his neck and collarbone.

Panting quietly, the two you lay together and Pero can’t find the strength to push you off of him. Enjoying the moment and sighing softly as he closes his eyes. Still holding you to him as his cock softens inside you

You don't move for a few moments, enjoying the feel of him beneath you, and you whimper when you shift off of him, mindful of his cum welling up inside of you. "Not too bad for an old professor." You tease, shifting to lay down beside him on your pillow.

Pero snorts, rolling his eyes as he looks up at the ceiling fan. “I did the best with what I was given.” He jokes dryly, his fingers brushing your thigh and he feels his heart rate slowing down. “Cardio is good for me, or so I hear.”

"Good for the heart." You hum, caressing his chest as you lean into him slightly. "How'd you get these scars?" You ask, "is that - are they from-?" You don't finish the question, not sure if he wants to answer it if they are from the time his wife was killed.

“No.” Pero shakes his head. “After Maya died, I was angry, vengeful.” He admits. “I did things that you wouldn’t think a professor would do. Until I remembered my wife would have wanted me to finish my degree. To live.”

You don’t ask him to elaborate, certain that it’s things that even your experienced ears would struggle to listen to. “I have no right to speak about what your wife would want but I know you are here and you are functioning. That’s more than most people can say even after that kind of trauma.” You murmur, watching his expressions as you shift to sit up on your elbow.

“What about you?” He asks. “You did not lose your husband like I lost my wife, but it might be worse.” He tells you. “He betrayed you. Made a lie of the vows he took, yet you are still strong.” He snorts. “Maybe too strong.”

You hum, reaching up to trace the length of his aquiline nose, “he betrayed me but he did me a favor. I wasn’t living. I was…I was going through the motions. Now, I get to choose what my life is. I get to be in control. I was so angry with him, upset and betrayed. But now? I thank him. I am free and able to do what I want.” You trace his lips, “my trauma is not like your trauma. I can tell you loved your wife. I didn’t love my husband. Not in the end.”

“You must have at one point.” He figures, wrinkling his nose slightly when you tap the tip of it. “It does not matter, she is gone.” He has grieved her, and he knows that the life he had planned with her will never happen. William likes to say that he is stuck in place, but there has never been a reason to really change.

“Even more reason to live for her then, no?” You ask, tapping his chin as you sit up from the bed. “I gotta clean up. I’m going to shower. You’re welcome to join or you can leave. Whatever you feel more comfortable doing.” You say, waddling slightly into your bathroom to avoid dripping his cum on the floor.

Pero feels guilty as he stands and walks over to his underwear and pants. “I should go.” He calls out as he starts to pull on his clothes, ignoring the little voice that is telling him to stay. You don’t really want him to, you are just being polite. This was an invitation for sex, not a relationship. “I have papers to grade.”

You try to not care that he’s leaving so soon. You know what he came here for and it wasn’t to have a movie night on the sofa and order take out. You grab your robe after you pee and clean up, finding him as he’s putting on his shoes. “I had a good time.” You say as you cross your arms, “maybe…maybe we can do it again.” You suggest, shrugging one shoulder.

You sound unsure, making Pero frown as he looks up from tying the laces. “You decide when you want me inside you again, bonita.” He reminds you. “Let me know.”

You nod, tying the robe around your body as he stands up. “I’ll see you in class.” You tell him, watching him get his jacket and you hate how fucking handsome he looks. This is just sex. He’s an asshole. That’s what you remind yourself of. He nods, “see you in class.” He grabs his car keys and opens your door, turning to look at you one last time before he closes it behind him. You sigh, rubbing your cheek, and you know this just got more complicated…and you need to change your sheets.

The next few weeks are much the same. Pero snarks and spits at you in the lecture hall, while you make his teaching life miserable. Only for him to come over nearly every night to fuck you into your mattress until you are worn out. He still doesn’t stay, but today he had found himself packing a small bag in case he decides to sleep in your bed.

You hear the doorbell ring and grin, not noticing it until you’re unlocking the door. When did you start to grin for Professor Tovar? You force your expression into a softer smile and open the door, “decided to allow my comment today slide or are you going to punish me, Professor?” You smirk, leaning against the door.

Pero snorts and sends you a glare that has no heat behind it. “Why do you always have to be a pain in my ass?” He huffs, shaking his head and grunting his thanks when you push the door open wider to let him in. “You’re sweet when I fuck you, but sour the rest of the time. Should I just have you sit on my cock during class?”

You smirk, “now that would be a sight for your students. What would they think of their scary professor? Reduced to groaning because of my pussy.” You cross your arms and turn to face him after shutting the door. “I still think I earned an ‘A’ on that last test.” You huff but ignore the way he glares at you as he steps into your apartment and sets his bag down. That makes you raise your eyebrows, “want me to cook breakfast after you fuck me all night long?”

“I deserve it.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes at your sass, although he secretly loves it. “I decided your wet sheets would feel better to sleep in after I make you squirt all over them again.” He declares, smirking slightly. You had bought an extra mattress protector after the last one failed under the constant fucking. “I like my bacon extra crispy and my coffee black.”

“And your whiskey neat.” You wink, walking over to your counter to grab the bottle of whiskey you keep for Pero in your apartment. You pour him a glass and stride over to hand it to him, grabbing your glass of wine. “And don’t worry, I got some spare sheets ready.” You wink, leaning in to kiss his jaw.

He hums and turns his head, pressing his lips to yours. It’s almost pathetic how his body immediately leaps to attention when he just smells the perfume that he has come to associate with you. “You should wear a skirt and no panties tomorrow.” He suggests with a smirk when he pulls back.

You giggle, nodding as you take a sip of your wine. “If you make me squirt again, it’s a deal.” You promise and he chuckles, “oh now that’s something I can deliver on.” You giggle, knowing he’s not wrong and you press your lips to his again, fumbling to set your wine glass down as you fall under his spell again. 

**** 

“Today, we are going to delve into Ancient Egypt.” Pero announces as he writes it down on the board and you bite your lip, watching his muscles move beneath his button down. You know the scratches you let on his skin are still visible beneath the material and that makes you clench your thighs together. When his gaze drifts back to the rows of students, you make a show of uncrossing and crossing your legs, letting him see that you fulfilled your promise.

His eyes narrow, the rest of the class believing that he is once again annoyed at you, but he’s really just focusing on the sight of your cunt. His gaze becomes predatory. “Do you have a problem?” He asks you, almost smirking when you snap your thighs closed when the entire class turns back to look at you. 

“Yeah.” You scoff. “I do.” 

Pero huffs and motions you forward. “Come down then.” He challenges. “You read the lecture and tell me where I’ve gotten it wrong.”

You roll your eyes and the students murmur in shock when you stand up and make your way up to the board. “You are starting in the wrong era. I think you need to teach from the end to the beginning to truly understand the fall of the Egyptians and their legacy in human history.”

“And who determines which beginning?” He challenges, waiting for you to step behind the podium. “Should we go back to the dinosaurs?”

You huff, “no. I mean we start with Cleopatra and Caesarion and end with Narmer. It would make sense to go from the end to the beginning to decide what the downfall of the Egyptian empire was.” You cross your arms, “but by all means, continue your lesson.”

Pero steps close to you, the class seemingly holding their breath and wondering if they are going to see Professor Tovar flip out on you. “If you think you can teach the class, give the lesson.” His hand slides up your skirt, hidden behind the podium and you, his fingers brushing your cunt.

You clear your throat, as if in warning to Pero, and to try to state your case. “Who here has heard about Cleopatra?” You ask, knowing that some might have not. Half the class raises their hands. “Okay, well, uh, oh.” You gasp when Pero’s fingers slide through your folds, rubbing your clit. “We - we should begin there. In, uh, 30 BC, Cleopatra died. Allegedly through suicide by- by a fatal bite from a venomous snake.”

“What kind of snake?” Pero demands, wanting you to shake in front of the class as he uses the time he has spent in your bed against you right now. It’s a turn on, knowing he is bringing you pleasure in front of all of them.

You try so hard to not close your eyes, or widen them when he pushes two thick digits into your pussy. He kicks at your ankle, spreading you wider and you lean against his podium a little more. “Either an asp or a - a cobra. Both are poetic. She - the cobra was associated with her favorite goddess, Isis. A cobra represents royalty. She - she wrote in her suicide note that she be buried by Antony.” You remember the books you’ve read over the years with as much effort as possible while Pero continues to finger you.

He listens to you, forgetting the rest of the class is even there as he continues to pump your fingers in and out of your tight cunt. He just hums, expecting you to continue as he does. Smirking to himself as your lips press together and you swallow a small sound.

“Cleopatra was the last a-actual Pharaoh. A queen. She had twins and her downfall came when - when Octavian - Octavian ordered the murder of Cleopatra and her maids, it provided her the space and opportunity to kill herself. He directed his guards to hunt down and kill Caesarion, Cleopatra’s teenage son with Caesar, to remove any question of the boy’s succeeding his mother on the throne.” You rush out what you were saying, “so to - to understand the Egyptian empire. You need to - oh God.” You choke when you’re close, “you need to understand it’s downfall and work back from- From there.” You grip the edges of the podium as you cum, closing your eyes for a second and biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from making a noise.

Pero scoffs as he works you through the last remaining moments of your orgasm. “Look down at my lecture, bonita.” He murmurs this too low for anyone else to hear you.

You look down at the notes in front of you, the timeline he has for the lecture and you fluster. He was going to work from the end to the beginning. You swallow harshly, cheeks flaming hot as he withdraws his fingers from inside of you, glistening with your cum. “It - it seems that is all I have to offer, unless you’d like me to take over your entire lecture.” You tell Pero, eyes burning into his as you turn your head to look at him.

Pero wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “And have you stumbling and stuttering through my lecture?” He snorts and slips his fingers into his mouth to suck them clean, pulling them out with a pop. “You can take your seat.”

You stumble to your seat, some students laughing and thinking you’re embarrassed. Some watch in shock as you barely manage to sit down in your seat. Your eyes meet Pero’s as he adjusts his glasses and your throat is so dry. You know he’s standing behind the podium to hide his hard on and you cross your legs, squeezing your thighs together at the thought of him fucking you against his podium. He continues where you left off but you don’t hear a word of it. You linger after he finishes his lecture, taking your time to gather your things until everyone has left. You abandon your things as you stand up, striding across the room to wrap your arms around his neck and drag his face to yours so you can kiss him.

He had been expecting you to act, watching you as you stared off into space. You have been off in your own little world and daydreaming about what he had done to you in front of the entire class. He pulls you close, knowing he is taking a risk, but it’s worth it. It’s worth tasting you and feeling your passion.

You pull back after a second, your hands sliding down his chest and you look over at the door to make sure no one saw you. “I’m studying in the library after class. Need to make sure that I’m using book sources.” You inform him, letting him know you won’t be home if he plans to come over. “Maybe you can come and find me.” You slide your hand down to squeeze his cock through his pants, “and I can return the favor.”

Pero grunts, twitching under your touch but he smirks at you. “Study hard.” He snickers, knowing that he would be finding you. He steps away from you and straightens slightly. “Maybe I’ll let you look at my lecture before you get called to the front of the class tomorrow.” Shrugging slightly, he smirks again. “Or maybe you like being fingered in the front of the lecture hall.”

“You’re a bastard.” You huff at him, walking over to your desk to grab your things. “See you in the library later, Professor.” You walk towards the door and playfully lift your skirt over your ass to flash him before you leave the lecture hall, not looking back to see him curse and reach down to adjust himself. 

**** 

You bite your lip as you scan the row. It’s late, most people are gone and the librarian is on a break after you asked her too many times to help you locate the books you need. There’s no sign of Pero yet and you wonder if he decided to head home.

Waking through the aisles of the library, he’s searching for you. Absorbing the familiar smell of the books, he is relaxed here. Still spending hours on the weekend researching, although his own library at home rivals here for the books he sources. Researching another book that he is writing, although it’s slower coming now that he has been spending so many nights with you. Blowing out a frustrated breath when he doesn’t see you, he continues to the back of the library, only to find you on the last row. “Fuck, did you try to make it obvious?”

You shake your head when he appears, "no. I am trying to find a book for my paper and the librarian is on a break. I think she's tired of trying to help me find book sources." You raise your eyebrows at your professor before you try to find the book on the bottom shelf, kneeling down and you sense him shuffle over to you. You turn your head, looking up to see his crotch in your face, and you smirk when you discover the bulge in his pants.

Pero’s eyes are already dark, his cock hard before he had even walked into the damn library. “The blue spine.” He knows which book you are looking for just by the section you are in.

You turn your head back towards the shelf, quickly locating the book and you look up at him, "thanks...sir." You tease and he rolls his eyes. You set the book down and reach up to unbutton his pants, "let me show you how grateful I am." You coo and reach into his pants to pull his hard cock out. "My my my, Professor Tovar...what got you so hard?" You smirk before you grip his length, pulling the foreskin down so you can wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

Pero hisses softly, grabbing the edge of a shelf to hold on to. “Maybe because you’re a cock tease.” He grunts, keeping up the grumpy facade until he moans softly at the press of your tongue. “Fuck, you love sucking my cock, don’t you?”

You pull off of him, letting your spit dribble down onto his cock as you pump him in a fist, "you love me sucking your cock." You counter and his grunt makes you giggle softly. You lean in, taking him in your mouth again, this time a little deeper.

“Best way to - fuck, shut you up.” He groans, rocking his hips forward to follow your mouth as you pull back. “You don’t talk with your mouth full.” Your hand around the base squeezes him tight but he loves the grip you have on him.

You glare at him but it doesn't land the same when your mouth is full of his girth. You moan around him in protest but he grabs your neck, keeping you still as he rocks into your mouth. You love it when he uses you like this so you widen your jaw and keep your eyes on him as he grips the shelf.

It’s wrong, the two of you could be caught, but he doesn’t care. He takes whatever you give him and he has found that he wants to spend as much time with you as he can. He grunts quietly, watching you and he moves to cup your cheek as you take him deeper.

You moan around him, loving the way he caresses your cheek, and you hollow your eyes around him. He's so girthy, it's hard to not have a jaw ache after a while. You pull off of him to catch your breath and pump his cock, twisting your wrist to work him higher.

“Fuck, look at you.” Pero grunts down at you. “So cock hungry. You’re going to swallow every drop, aren’t you?” His eyes roll back when you twirl your tongue around the sensitive head and press it against the slit. “Fuck, you just need to be on your knees for me during class.”

You moan, taking him deeper again, and he twitches in your mouth. You know you don’t have much more time so you grab the back of his thighs, pushing him further down your throat and your eyes start to water as he stretches your throat, pressing against your gag reflex but you breathe harshly through your nose.

He bites off another curse, eyes fluttering closed and he leans his head back, exposing his throat to your gaze when you look up. About to cum, his fingers curl around your cheek and he chokes out your name, body tensing as he spills down your throat.

He hunches over you as he cums, hot seed hitting the back of your throat and you eagerly swallow every drop. You squeeze his thighs, encouraging him to rock himself through his orgasm, and he does. You work him for every drop, his cock pulsing on your tongue until he hisses and comes to a stop, pulling out of your mouth. You smirk as you look up at him, “surely that’s got to be worth some extra credit?”

Pero growls, rolling his eyes at your comment, but he’s dragging you up to press his lips to yours. Needing a kiss from you before he ever even tucks his cock away. A shuffle and a dropped book halfway across the room makes him pull away from you. “Are you going to stop being a pain in my ass?” He asks, zipping himself up and raising a brow. “I didn’t think so.”

You giggle, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before you pick up the book from the floor. “I better get back to work.” You glance over his shoulder, “don’t want people knowing I kinda of don’t mind you.” You offer him a wink, knowing he likely has things to do like grading papers.

Pero snorts and nods. “I’ll see you later.” He promises, knowing that he will come back over to spend the night with you again. It’s become almost a habit, and you haven’t made a comment about him leaving his toothbrush in your bathroom. It’s been unspoken and he hasn’t pushed it.

**** 

You curl around Pero, the morning sun shining through your curtains and you kiss his chest before you shift away from him, deciding to make some coffee. “Gotta wake up, Professor.” You say as you reach for your robe.

Pero grunts, opening his eyes and hating that you’ve moved away from him. You are warm and he misses the feel of your body pressed against his. “Class is canceled.” He groans, reaching for you to pull you back to the bed, but you just slip out of his reach. “Fuck.”

You chuckle, “it’s not. You need to get up.” You playfully slap his chest, wrapping your robe around your body as you make your way into the kitchen to start the coffee machine and make some breakfast. Pero is soon coming into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes as he comes over to you to wrap his arms around your waist just as the doorbell sounds out.

You frown, but Pero figures it's just the neighbor who has been very curious about his presence here. He has told you that the man is interested in dating you, but you don't believe him. "I will get it." He tells you, patting your hip. Perhaps seeing Pero right out of your bed would discourage the man from his interest. He walks to the door and opens it, surprised to find not the neighbor, but a well dressed, handsome man who looks shocked to see Pero standing there. "Who are you?" Pero grunts, wondering who this man is and what he wants.

“Who are you?” The man counters and your eyes widen at the voice of your ex husband. “What the hell are you doing here?” You growl, stomping over to the front door. “I wanted to talk. Didn’t expect you to be fucking someone else already.”

Pero scowls at the other man and looks back at you, sensing you don't want your ex here. "You can call her." He grunts at him. "Leave and don't come back."

Your ex shakes his head, “who the hell are you?” He asks Pero who scoffs, “I work at her university.” Your ex chuckles, “oh. I see. Well, you haven’t seen the last of me.” He promises and steps away from the door, a warning look towards you. “She left me, by the way.” He spits at you and you snort, “smart girl.”

Pero closes the door and turns to you, watching as you stare off for a moment. He can tell you are rattled and he wonders if you still have feelings for him. "We should get ready." He reminds you.

You nod, swallowing harshly as you work on fixing the coffee and some breakfast for you and Pero. “Sorry about that. I didn’t expect - I - I never imagined he’d show up.”

“He knows where you live.” That part surprises Pero, figuring you wouldn’t have wanted that when you finalized the divorce. “Do you think he will come back?”

“I don’t know. I never - I never told him where I lived. He must’ve - shit - he must’ve found me.” You scoff, “he is a prick. Let’s get ready. We gotta get to class.” You tell him, leaning in to kiss him softly.

“Okay.” Pero doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t say anything else. Quickly eating breakfast and joining you in the shower to get ready for class. Once you are both ready, he guides you to your car, watchful for your ex. “See you in class, bonita.” He murmurs, wondering when he had become so protective over you. When he had fallen for you.

****

You look up from your desk as the dean of the college walks in after Pero just dismissed his class. You frown and the dean looks over at you, “I need to speak to you in my office. Both of you.” The dean declares to Pero who frowns but nods, gesturing for you both to follow the dean to his office.

Pero’s stomach twists unpleasantly and he scowls as he walks into the office and sits down in front of the desk, in the seats provided. He doesn’t appreciate being called onto the carpet, although he has a feeling he knows what this is about. “What? Did one of those brats complain that I was too harsh?” He demands. “You know I don’t coddle them.”

The dean sighs and looks between you, “now, I know you know this isn’t about your class. This is what has been transpiring between you and your student.” The dean brings his gaze to you and you stare back, refusing to cower under his intensity.

Pero doesn’t say anything, just stares at the dean when he looks back over at him. “I received a call today.” He behinds, spreading his hands wide in apology. “My hands are tied. You know what is written in your contract.” Pero snorts and rolls his eyes, wanting to comment that you are a grown ass woman, but he doesn’t say a word. “You’re up for tenure, Pero.” The dean stresses, “and you’re sleeping with a student?”

You scoff, “I am a grown woman. A consenting adult. Why is this any of your business?” You ask and the dean huffs, “because it’s against our policy. Professor Tovar is up for tenure and if he is found to be violating the rules, then we have no choice but to fire him.” The dean says and you chuckle, “are you kidding me? Well it’s a good thing I’m not sleeping with him. I hate the man, honestly. I’m only taking his class to finish my degree. I have a year and a half left and I only took his class to finish what I came here for. I can assure you, I would never sleep with him. I hate him.” You declare, crossing your arms.

Your words pierce his heart, stabbing him until he feels like he’s bleeding. “Right.” He growls, shooting to his feet, his face twisted in anger. “You heard it. Can I go back to my work now?” He doesn’t wait for the dean to answer, just marches out of the office. The bastard can fire him if he doesn’t like it. Pero just has to get out of that room before he explodes.

You watch him go, forcing yourself to keep your face neutral as he leaves the room like a bat out of hell. “I suppose I shall have to take your word for it. If I see or hear of anything untoward, Professor Tovar is gone. Do you understand? And you will be removed from the school.” You nod, “yes sir.” You gather your bag and exhale shakily as you exit the room, deciding to head to your next class and find Pero in his office during his work hours. 

****

You knock on his door, hearing him call out for you to come in, and you step inside, shutting the door behind you. “You seem upset that I saved your ass.” You declare, seeing his scowl.

Pero shoots you a glare and then looks back down at his papers. “If you don’t have any questions about the lecture, I will have to ask you to leave.” He spits out. “It is not wise to be behind closed doors with a man you hate.” His hand nearly snaps the pen, he grips it so tight as he scrawls his notes in the margin. His heart aches and he wants to rage at you, but that would not be wise. He had always thought himself wise, until you come into his life and fucked him up. He’s in love with you, and you hate him.

You are speechless. Having expected him to understand that you lied to save his job and your position in the school. You swallow down the lump in your throat, tears stinging in your eyes but you refuse to let them fall. You nod and turn back towards the door, “of course, Professor Tovar. Have a good evening.” You step out of his office, the one that you’ve spent so much time with him in, and decide to go find the registrar to drop out of his class. Even if you fail it, it’s better than sitting there and knowing the man you love doesn’t love you back.

He continues to write, not stopping until he hears the click of the door as you release the handle and he sighs. Dropping his pen onto the desk and leaning back with a sigh as he rubs his eyes. “Fuck.” He hisses, his chin trembling dangerously until he clenches his jaw. Wishing that he had never opened that fucking door this morning.

****

Pero glances at your empty seat, the clock ticking above him, and he knows it’s too late for anyone to come in for this lecture. He sighs and turns back to the board, wondering if you’re sick or just skipping after what happened. He hasn’t spoken to you. You haven’t called or texted after you left his office and now, you’re missing. Your seat is empty and the space in Pero’s chest feels even emptier.

****

You sigh, pouring out a glass of wine. Today was exhausting and you hate that you let Pero get under your skin like this. You know he doesn’t feel the same way. It was obviously just sex for him. You shift to sit down on your sofa, staring blankly at the screen until your doorbell rings. You groan, wondering if it’s your ex husband coming back once more but when you answer the door, you’re surprised to see Pero standing on your doorstep.

“You missed class.” He glares at you and pushes the lecture notes towards you. “I don’t want you bitching when you fail the test because you didn’t know the material.” It’s a flimsy fucking excuse, but he needed to see you. He hadn’t slept last night, finding it nearly impossible when you weren’t curled up around him and sleeping on his chest.

You stare at him, “I- I am no longer in your class. I dropped it.” You tell him and he scoffs, “but then you’re going to get an automatic failure. It’s too late in the semester.” You shake your head, “I don’t care. I can’t sit there in the front row and watch you when I know that you don’t feel the same way that I feel about you. I know you can’t stand me, I know what we have is just…I don’t know- hate sex? Just please go. I don’t need you throwing this in my face. It’s done. We are done. You succeeded in getting me to drop your fucking class, Tovar.”

Pero hisses, reaching out and grabbing your arm and pulling you closer. “You hate me.” He growls in your face, sneering and trying to cover the hurt. “That’s how you feel. I’m supposed to be sorry that I love you? Is that it? Hate fucking is all you wanted? Fine.” He lets go of you and steps back. “Fail your class. Go back to your ex and live your unfulfilling life with boring sex.” He turns to walk away from your door, furious that he had told you how he feels. You will just use it against him.

“What the hell? You can’t just walk away after saying that shit!” You hiss at him, “and who the fuck said I was going back to my ex? God, you’re - you’re a prick.” You growl and Pero spins to face you.

“Of course I am.” Pero hisses. “You tell me everyday that I’m a prick. Of course I am. What more do you expect from me?” He demands, nearly deflating after he says that. Just staring at you. “Just- what do you want?” He asks helplessly, gesturing uselessly with his hands. “I would have quit, told them to go fuck themselves. Instead, you told them you hated me and would never sleep with me.” He frowns and sighs. “It’s not like you’ve told me things changed for you, so what am I supposed to think?”

You reach out to cup his cheeks, bringing his face to yours. “I don’t hate you. You’re a fucking asshole. A brilliant asshole who I - I love. I love you, Pero. I love how smart you are. I love how much you don’t give a shit about what people think of you. I love how fiercely loyal you are. I love you.” You choke, “I love you.”

This time, the kiss isn’t violent, but it is passionate. He lunges forward and presses his lips to yours, relief pouring off of him in waves as he gathers you in his arms and kicks the door closed behind him. He’s not leaving, he can’t leave. Moaning when you moan and letting his tongue sweep inside your mouth when you let him, Pero deepens the kiss, pouring all his emotions into it.

You stumble backwards towards your bedroom, Pero blindly reaching for the door handle and you feel your bed hit the back of your legs as he lifts you onto the bed. “You still - you haven’t responded.” You gasp when he kisses along your neck and his hands fumble with your shirt.

He growls, pulling back and rolling his eyes at you. “Are you always going to be a pain in my ass?” He huffs. “I love you. I couldn’t sleep last night because you weren’t snoring and drooling on my chest. I couldn’t hold you tight and feel your warmth.” He smirks when you roll your eyes and huff. “I love you, bonita. I don’t want to just fuck you, I- I never would have stayed or risked my job if it was just hate fucking.”

You grin, caressing his cheeks as he confesses how he feels. “I love you, Pero. God, you are - I don’t want to sleep apart from you. I don’t want to miss you like I did last night. I want you. I want to be with you. I don’t want to hate fuck, I want you to make love to me.” You demand, sliding your hands lower to begin working on unbuttoning his shirt.

“So demanding.” He scoffs, but he is shrugging out of his shirt as soon as you unbutton the last one and flinging it down. “I can’t believe you dropped the class.” He grunts. “I can fix it. I know the register, she likes me.” He promises, leaning in and nipping your chin before he kisses along your jaw.

You moan as he kisses you, “I don’t know if I can - they are gonna know and I don’t want you to lose your job, baby.” You reach down to unbutton his pants, “you been flirting with the register?” You tease, reaching in to pull his cock out of his pants.

Pero groans and twitches in your hand. “Job stability.” He jokes dryly. “A lot of students go to her because of me. I get a cake every Christmas.” He bats your hand away so he can push his pants down and kick them off, reaching for your leggings. “You graduate the class and then there’s nothing they can do. You won’t be my student.”

You lift your hips so he can drag your panties down and you sigh, “only a few more weeks until finals. Do you think we can make it to the end of the semester without risking everything?” You ask breathlessly as he slides his hand into your panties, making you moan when he starts to rub your clit.

“If they find out and fire me, so be it.” Pero growls, finding you wet and he loves how you always want him. “They will not look to your apartment, they dare not harass a student.”

You moan at both his touch and his words. The fact that he's still willing to risk it all for you has you bucking into his touch but he keeps you pinned to the bed. "Baby, I need - need you to fuck me." You plead, wanting more from him.

He leans down, pulling down your tank top and wrapping his lips around your nipple, shuffling between your thighs and lining up to sink into you. He pulls away from your nipple and kisses you as he slowly pushes inside your tight cunt.

"Fuck baby." You pant against his mouth, reaching down to grip the hem of your tank to pull it over your head, and you toss it on the floor. "Always feel so goddamn good inside of me." You whimper when he starts to slowly move inside of you.

“You feel good.” He moans, kissing along your neck. “So damn perfect around me.” He praises, twitching deep when you clench around him, squeezing him tight. He doesn’t speed up, wanting to take his time as he loves you this time.

“I love you.” You exhale shakily, closing your eyes as he kisses along your neck. “I love you so much baby.” You murmur, caressing his back as he moves over you. You swear you can feel his heart beating in his chest or it might be yours but you feel so connected to him.

“I love you too.” He groans, rocking into you at a slow pace. His arms are curling under you, pulling you closer and pressing you into the bed.

You moan his name as he rocks into you, in no rush to make you cum unlike the frantic fucking you’ve indulged in before. It doesn’t take long for him to work you up though, high on his love and the way you feel. You fall apart moments later, a moan escaping your lips as you cum around him.

Pero is quickly following you, groaning your name as he thrusts deep and shudders, overwhelmed by the force of his orgasm and your love. Closing his eyes, he turns and presses his lips to yours as he fills you. Only to stop rocking his hips and settle on top of you, panting softly.

You kiss him slowly, savoring how this feels, and he keeps his body pressing into yours. “Te amo.” He murmurs and you smile, “I love you too.” You keep your eyes closed as you take in the moment. 

****

“Congratulations to the graduating class!” The dean declares and you grin, throwing your hat up in the air as you grip your degree in your hand. You finally did it. You turn to face the crowd, searching for Pero’s face in the group of professors and you rush over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him.

Pero chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist and hauls you close. He’s garbed in his own cap and gown, having presented your degree to you by happenstance. There are murmurs around the two of you, but he couldn’t give a fuck less. You haven’t been his student since that first class that you had been in. He kisses you deeply and pulls back with a smirk. “You are still a pain in my ass.” He teases you, kissing your lips again. “But I’m proud of that and you.”

“Thank you, Professor Tovar.” You wink and he chuckles, “congratulations Mrs. Tovar. Now, shall we go celebrate your graduation?” He asks, knowing that his whole world has changed since you sat down in his class and sassed him. He wouldn’t change any of it, even if you’re still a pain in his ass. You lean in to kiss his jaw, “what do you say we go to your office for the last time?” You whisper and he groans, grateful for the gown he’s wearing. “Let’s go.” He grabs your hand and guides you through the crowd. You both know it won’t be the last time you fuck in his office. You’ll bring your husband his lunch on occasion, you’ll even end with dessert.

[irisskies]

Pedro Pascal as Javier Peña Narcos S01E02

[irisskies]

All American Thanksgiving {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.9k

Warnings: Sex with strangers, protected sex, outdoors sex, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), restraints, temperature play, begging, submissiveness, face riding, angst, heartbreak

Comments: Working on Thanksgiving leads to meeting Javier Peña.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Javier rubs his cheek as he strides to the door of the diner. It’s Thanksgiving and he volunteered to work. He doesn’t mind sitting in a cop car instead of handling Lorraine and her family like he would’ve had to do. He walks into the empty diner and sits at the counter. You look up when you see him waiting at the counter, surprised anyone showed up on Thanksgiving, but you wipe your hands on your apron and walk along the counter to greet him. “Hey. Happy Thanksgiving. What can I get you to drink?” You ask, taken back by how handsome he is when he looks up at you with beautiful dark brown eyes.

He’s always been a bit of a flirt, but he’s tried to be good while he was dating Lorraine. However, he’s tired of her pushing for a ring, for a proposal. Wanting the wedding that Javi isn’t ready for. She keeps telling him that he can’t keep getting the milk for free when he hasn’t bought the cow. So he decided to tell her he needed a break. Right before the holiday and she keeps calling, her mother stopped him in the grocery store and gave him an earful and her father undoubtedly has been waiting to run into him. “Kind of a slow day, huh?” He asks, glancing around the deserted dinner. “Got any coffee brewed?”

You chuckle, glancing behind you to the half empty pot. “Definitely. It’s what I’ve been surviving on today since it’s been so quiet. Who knew so many people had families to see today?” You tease as you turn to grab a cup to pour him some coffee. “You got stuck with the ghost shift today too?” You ask as you set the cup down on the counter for him.

He snorts. “I volunteered.” He offers. “It was better than spending the day with people I don’t want to be around, talking about subjects I don’t give a fuck about.”

You hum, nodding in agreement, “True. Especially politics and religion. Luckily for me, I don’t have to worry about that because my parents are gone and I’m an only child.” You confess, reaching for a menu to set it down. “Me and the cook back there volunteered to let our coworkers spend the day with their families.”

“That was nice of you.” He watches as you walk away to get the coffee pot, his eyes falling down to your ass. It’s a nice ass, wrapped in your diner uniforms.

You come back, sensing his eyes on you when you walked away, and you smirk as you pour his coffee. He's attractive but you can tell he knows it. "Well, it's starting to feel like it was a good choice." You say as you stare at him appraisingly. "Always liked a man in uniform."

He wings up a brow, leaning back slightly. It’s been a long time since he’s really talked to a woman that wasn’t his family or Lorraine’s and he smirks. “You can look all you want.” He promises. “I don’t mind.”

You like his smirk, feeling your stomach twist with attraction, and you finish pouring his coffee. “See anything you like? On the menu?” You add, offering him a smirk of your own.

“Only the menu is available?” Javi hums. “Damn shame.” He glances down at your hand and sees you don’t have a wedding ring on. “He’s a lucky fucker.”

His words make you hot under your uniform, his dark eyes flicking up to yours and you offer him a soft shake of your head, "there's no lucky fucker. Single as a pringle." You hum, "and you? I'm sure your lady knows she's lucky."

“Single.” Javi shrugs slightly. “Recent occurrence.” Leaning forward, he picks up his coffee cup with three fingers and watches you while he takes a sip, “my real question is how are you single? I bet you get hit on all the time, pretty as you are.”

You chuckle, shaking your head again, "if you count old men and truckers, then allll the time. By someone I'd actually be interested in? Never. Until today." You murmur, resting your elbows on the counter to lean a little closer. "What crazy woman let you out of her bed?" You ask incredulously, eyebrows raised.

He chuckles, appreciating the comment and feeling like it might apply to his ex. She was getting more and more demanding as time went on. “I ran from it, actually.” He admits. “Felt like it wasn’t right.” His gaze turns a little more intense. “She wasn’t the right woman for me. So I’m still looking.”

You hum, "well, her loss and all..." You trail off and look down at the menu, "you want anything to eat, handsome?" You ask flirtatiously, knowing that you are both single. You have no qualms flirting with a sexy man and today has been painfully slow in the diner. You need a distraction.

“Oh, I’m starving.” Javi insists with a lecherous smirk. “And I’ll get something to eat, I guess.” He winks at you and glances behind you when the cook makes his presence known in the kitchen window.

You can sense Adrian's presence but you ignore it to focus on the customer as you reach for your notepad, "what can I get you?" You ask and he glances down at the menu. "All American Breakfast. Bacon, eggs over easy, pancakes." He orders and you nod, writing it down, "hash browns or grits?" You ask and he licks his lips, "hash browns." You nod and scribble down his order, handing it to Adrian who grunts and gets to work. "That should be up soon." You tell him and walk along the counter to grab the syrup and preserves for him to choose from.

“Fuck.” He notices the extra sway to your hips when you walk away from him and it makes his cock twitch. It’s been a slow day and he doesn’t have any calls right now, so he plans to stay and flirt with you until the dispatcher radios him. “Strawberry.” He tells you when you offer him a choice. “Sweet and juicy,  how I like it.”

You giggle, your stomach lurching with attraction and lust from his words, and you bring his selection over to him, setting it down. "So...do I get to know your first name, Officer Peña?" You ask, glancing down at his badge and you know he can read your name on your badge.

“Javier.” He’s spilled a little of the coffee on his thumb so he swipes his tongue across it after saying your name in return. “You have a beautiful name.” He compliments. “Matches your ass.”

You inhale shakily before you breathe out, "now there's a compliment you don't get everyday." You lean over the counter again, watching him as he lowers his hand from his mouth. "You have massive hands." You reach for the one he didn't lick, admiring his thick fingers, "makes a girl wonder where else is big." You flirt, caressing the back of his hand.

Javi’s no fool and that is an invitation as clear as day. Running his tongue over his teeth, he arches a brow as he glances at the kitchen window again. “Why don’t we go have a smoke?” He asks you. “Out back.”

You nod, cunt dripping for this stranger, but you feel like you need this. You spin around to talk to Adrian through the kitchen window. "I'm going for a break." You call out and Adrian waves his spatula over his shoulder to dismiss you. He's never been one with words. You reach behind you to untie your apron and shove it under the counter before you stride down the counter at the same pace he walks until you meet him at the side entrance to the dinner. He pushes the door open for you and you step outside, inhaling the fresh air. "I don't really smoke." You confess, turning towards him just as he reaches for your waist to pull you into his chest. "It's not a cigarette I want right now." He rasps, his hard cock pressing against your hip and you moan, reaching up to cup his cheeks, dragging his face to yours.

Javi leans into the kiss eagerly, having missed the physicality of sex since ending things with Lorraine. He’s almost given in and called her a few times but had resisted so far. Now, he’s wrapping his arms around you and dragging you closer, immediately sliding his tongue into your mouth with a moan.

Your tongue slides against his as his hands slide down to squeeze your ass through your dress. You moan into the kiss, grinding against him as he walks you backwards towards the wall of the diner and you gasp when he kisses your jaw. “Tell me what you want, hermosa.” He demands and you whimper, “need you to fuck me.” You order, reaching between you to squeeze his cock through his pants.

Javi groans into your mouth, twitching in your hand. “I can fuck you.” He promises, breaking away from your lips to kiss along your jaw. His fingers trail around your hip and push into your panties to find your clit and slide his fingers through your wet folds to press inside you slowly. “Fuck, you’re gonna feel so good around my cock.” He tells you as your walls hug his fingers.

His fingers are thick and stretch you, making you moan his name as he starts to work you open on them. You’re dripping wet for him and you fumble with his belt, trying to get his pants open. “Fuck. This uniform is so hot.” You murmur, his gun still on his hip as he pumps his fingers. You finally get his pants open and reach in to pull his hard cock out, moaning at the girth you discover.

He chuckles against your pulse as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of your tight cunt, curling them up. Wanting you to feel good when he slides inside you. “So is your uniform.” He pants. “Serving me coffee and pussy.”

“Better leave a good tip.” You tease breathlessly as he presses his thumb against your clit and you pump his cock, loving the way he twitches in your palm. His breaths are hot against your neck and you need him to be inside you. “Javier. Please.” You beg, walls fluttering around his digits as he works you up.

​​“You don’t want to cum like this?” He is halfway teasing but he curls and presses his fingers deeper. Pressing against that spongy spot that has you gasping out his name. “You just want my cock?”

“Oh shit.” You gasp as he presses his fingers against that spot. “Yes. Shit. Keep- keep going. I’m so close.” You pant out your confession as you grind down onto his fingers, your grip on his cock tightening. He chuckles and it makes your stomach clench, sending you over the edge and your knees buckle while you clamp down on his fingers.

Javi’s body pressed against you keeps you upright against the wall. Groaning into your skin while you soak his fingers and he pumps them in and out of you with a squelching sound. Enjoying the way you are whimpering and his cock pulses in your hand.

You try to catch your breath as he works you through it until you regain your senses. You let go of his cock to cup his cheeks, pressing your lips to his after you demand, “fuck me.”

Javi licks into your mouth again, pulling his fingers out of your dripping pussy to reach for his wallet. Always keeping a spare condom in the side pocket, he pulls it out blindly and drops the wallet on the ground in his hast to rip the foil packet open and roll it on.

You shove your dress up your hips and watch him roll the condom down his cock. He’s thick and you would go down on him if you knew him better. “Baby, please.” You beg, whining as he grabs your thigh, lifting it over his hip, and you groan when he notches himself at your entrance and starts to push into you.

Javi doesn’t just thrust into you roughly, but his hips are firm as they press you into the wall. Filling you with a smooth roll of his hips that is taking your breath and making him choke out in pleasure as he bottoms out. “Fuuuuuuck.” The curse is growled into your mouth, following his tongue as it slides against yours and his eyes close at the hot clutch of your cunt around him.

He stretches you out and you grip his shoulder as he starts to move inside you. Your tongue tangles with his and this is pleasure you haven't felt for a long time. He is strong beneath your touch as he rocks into you and you moan, tilting your head back against the wall when he adjusts his hips, "fuck, that's good."

Javi grunts in agreement, moving to kiss every inch of your neck and shoulder that he can reach while he’s rocking into you. His hands around your back, holding you as he thrusts. The jingle of his belt is loud but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t even care if anyone manages to see you, he’s too focused on how good you feel around him.

Anyone could see you from the road but you don't care. Adrian could come out and find you but you don't give a fuck. Not when Javier is making you feel like this. He thrusts into you, his hand sliding down to your ass and you moan, rocking your hips to meet his, his belt hitting your thigh with each thrust.

“Fuck, you’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?” He pants as he fucks you. “I can feel it. Cum for me.” He wants to feel you cum on his cock, needs to feel it because he can feel his own body tensing to cum. It’s been so long since he’s fucked anyone but Lorraine that it’s overwhelming. “Cum for me, baby.”

His words have you falling over the edge. His cock pushes deep and you clamp down on it with a cry. Your nails dig into his uniform as you cum for him, squeezing his cock inside your fluttering walls. “Cu- cum for me.” You plead, wanting to watch him fall apart.

Javi’s jaw tenses. nostrils flaring as his hips snap forward three more times before he is faltering. Burying himself deep with a groan as his cock pulses inside you. Flooding the condom with his seed.

You love the way his jaw clenches as he twitches inside you. “Fuck, you’re so handsome.” You caress his cheek as he works himself through his pleasure until he lowers your thigh from his hip. You kiss him softly and he reaches down to grip the base of his cock as he pulls out of you.

“Fuck.” Javi hisses as he slides the condom off quickly and ties it closed. “Now I do need a cigarette.” He chuckles, shoving the used condom into the trash can and tucking his cock away. He zips up and looks at you as you adjust your panties and pull your dress back into place.

You stumble slightly and he reaches out to stabilize you. “Sorry. Just not used to cumming that hard.” You confess with a giggle and he chuckles, rubbing your arms. “You want your breakfast? Come in and have a smoke and your food.” You tell him, opening the door to the diner and he follows you inside, playfully smacking your ass which makes you giggle.

Javi goes back to his seat, sipping his coffee as he pulls out his pack of cigarettes. Watching you move over to the window where his meal is sitting, having obviously been waiting for him. Grinning, you turn back and bring it over to him and he smirks. “Why won’t you get a drink and sit down with me?” He asks, inhaling a drag from the cigarette. “Not like you have a ton of tables to check.”

You glance at the kitchen window where Adrian is cleaning the griddle and you nod, grabbing a cup of coffee for yourself. Your pussy aches a little as you take a seat next to him and he taps his cigarette on the ashtray sitting on the counter. "So what made you want to be a cop?" You ask, eying his badge.

“Didn’t want to be a rancher.” He snorts, picking up his coffee cup and taking another sip before he sets it back down and picks up his fork. “I studied philosophy and criminal justice in college.” He admits, cutting into his pancakes and then picking up the syrup to drizzle over the top. “Don’t see a lot of work for a philosopher around here.”

You take a sip of your coffee and you chuckle, "I don't know. Some people around here need to take a good look at their lives. Maybe you could help them." You tease, "but being a cop...it's a hard job. Not one I'd want to do." You confess, "I bet it's hard to deal with the smugglers."

“Yeah.” He frowns slightly. “I try to prevent as much as I can, but I’m not in the DEA.” He has talked with agents a lot and even been told he needs to apply, but he hadn’t decided if he wanted to leave Laredo or not. His dad would be all alone. He never said it, but he could tell that he had missed Javi while he was in college.

You nod in understanding, “I heard the president talking about stopping the cartels but who knows what will happen. If you did join the DEA, I’m sure every woman in Laredo would miss you in uniform.” You wink, taking another sip of your coffee.

He chuckles. “Yep, I’m sure old Mrs. Murphy will miss calling me out to report that someone’s walked through her flowerbed.” He tells you. “It’s her cat, every time.”

You giggle, “she probably just wants to see a sexy cop.” You tease and he continues to eat his food. “I’d definitely be calling you to my house at every chance and you’d have a different kind of pussy to deal with.” You wink playfully, resting your elbows on the counter.

After scooping up a bite of his eggs, he smirks at you and turns the fork around to offer you the bite. “I’d be having a different kind of meal too.” He promises, that smirk broadening into a grin when you take the bite off of his fork with a look of surprise on your face. “Where do you live?” He asks. “Professionally speaking, so I can keep an ear out for the call on the radio.”

You grin after you swallow the eggs he offered you. “For professional purposes?” You ask and he nods, his knee pressing against yours under the counter. You tell him your address, “so if you’re in the area, stop by.” You wink, “and you can have your meal.”

He arches a brow, making note of the address. It’s not too far from his normal patrol route. “Gotta warn you,” he takes a bite of eggs and then forks up a bite of the pancakes for you to eat. “I’ve got a hell of an appetite.”

“Good thing I can cook up a storm.” You tease, wrapping your lips around his fork to chew on the bite. Adrian had left for his break so it’s just the two of you in the diner. “And I definitely offer dessert.” You wink after you swallow, “you are welcome anytime, officer.”

Javi smirks and nods. “Definitely take you up on that.” He promises. “Although if keeping the handcuffs on is a turn on, I can always use them on you.” He jokes.

“Or I could use them on you.” You challenge playfully and he chuckles, shrugging one shoulder, “never tried that before.” You smirk, “it would be fun. I mean it, you’re welcome anytime.” You promise and he nods just as his walkie talkie beeps. “Come in Peña.” The dispatcher’s voice is muffled but you lean back, knowing your time with him is over.

Javi sighs and rolls his eyes but he reaches for the radio. “Peña here, what’s going on?”

“Domestic dispute. Thanksgiving dinner gone wrong. 112 Sanders Ave off of Clark near the football stadium.” Kathy at dispatch says, knowing Javier is on his break but the woman had been panicked.

Javi is moving, dropping his fork and standing up as he keys his mic again. “10-4.” He says. “Enroute, five minutes.” He goes to pull his wallet out of his pocket and smirks because he had to pick it up off the ground earlier. “Listen, thanks for the food and the company.” He tells you, handing you several bills. Enough to cover the meal and a good tip. “I’ll try to come back.” He promises.”

You nod, watching him shift off his stool. “Let me get you a coffee to go.” You rush around the counter and grab a paper to-go cup, filling it up and you hand it to him. Your fingers brush his and you wish he wasn’t leaving so soon. “I’ll see you around.” You murmur, glad that Adrian isn’t here to see you step forward to kiss his cheek. He smiles and nods, “see you soon.” He says and makes his way out of the diner. You watch him until his patrol car disappears and you sigh, leaning against the counter for several moments until you clean up his plate.

The entire time he’s gone to the call, he’s thinking about the sex, the conversation. He had enjoyed his time with you, more than he could have imagined in that situation. He takes care of that issue, calming down the couple that had been arguing over the man watching the game and not helping out for Thanksgiving dinner. After that, he had a call for fireworks, basically just telling the kids to space out the explosions, and not set them off near buildings so they don’t catch on fire. After that, it goes quiet and he finds himself driving back to the diner to see if you are still there.

You are refilling the condiments, distracted thinking about Javier, when the man himself strides back into the diner. Your eyes widen and you nearly knock over the sugar as you stand up, brushing down your apron. “You’re back.” You declare and he nods, walking over to the counter, “can I get you a coffee?” You ask, heart pounding in your chest.

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “Too late for that.” He checks his watch and raises a brow. “When do you close tonight? I can’t see too many more people coming if they aren’t already here.”

You check your watch, “in the next fifteen minutes if no one comes in.” You tell him, “you sure you don’t want anything?” You ask as you start to put the condiments away on each table.

He smirks. “Nothing but a date.” He props his hands on his hips and looks at you as you work. “Don’t think we can go out tonight but, what do you say?” He had been thinking about you the entire time he was working and was eager to come back. It’s a step in the right direction and tells him that he was right to end things with Lorraine.

You are shocked that he came back to ask you out but your heart pounds and you blurt out a “yes” before you can even process it. He grins, nodding his head, “I, uh, I’ll give you my number.” You scramble for your notepad and write your number and address down for him. “I have tomorrow off if you, uh, if you’re free. If not, call me and we can figure something out.” You tell him with a smile that won’t leave your face.

Javi grins, taking the slip of paper that you had written his order down on, now having your number on it, and folds it over to tuck into his shirt pocket. “I’m off too.” He tells you. “Perks of working the holiday.” He jokes. “You want to get dinner? Let someone serve you for a change?”

You nod, “that sounds good.” You can’t stop smiling. You truly dreaded coming into work today but Javier has changed everything, making this a great day. “Seven?” You suggest and he nods, stepping closer to you. He glances around to see if Adrian is nearby until he cups your cheek and you lean in to press your lips to his. The kiss is sweet and short and when he pulls back, you cover your lips with your fingers, giggling. “I’ll see you tomorrow, officer.” You say and he chuckles, offering you a wink before he leaves the diner. “He’s going to be trouble.” Adrian calls out for the kitchen, “mark my words.” He says and you roll your eyes, “I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.” You finish your shift with a grin, planning what you’re going to wear tomorrow night for your date.

**** 

Javi hadn’t called that night since you had plans, but he’s pulling his truck up to your address five minutes before seven. It’s been a long damn time since he’s gone on a first date and Chucho had smirked when he had seen his son taking pains with his appearance and applying his new cologne. Now he wonders if he should have brought flowers since he’s already fucked you, but he can’t leave and go get some. Rolling his eyes at his stupidity, he opens the door and reaches for his cigarettes while he waits to knock on your door.

You rush around, making sure you look good. You’d picked a classy but sexy dress to impress him and it’s silly because you’ve already had sex, but you like him. A lot. You want to get to know him more and you want to make a good first date impression. You spray your perfume and when the doorbell rings, you inhale deeply, checking your appearance in the mirror before you open your front door. He’s wearing jeans that cling to his thighs, making your mouth water until you take in his checked shirt and the cowboy boots. Fuck, he looks sexy. “Hey.” You greet him softly, leaning against your doorframe after you open the door.

Javi smiles as he takes in your dress with a slow perusal of your body, up and down until he’s looking at your face again. “Hey.” He murmurs, his eyes already darkening in approval. “You look good.” He tells you. “Real good.” If he hadn’t promised you a date, he would be trying to talk you into bed right now.

His compliment makes you shiver in arousal and you’re tempted to drag him off to your bed but you need to get to know him. You want to know more about him. “Thanks, handsome. Let me just grab my purse and we can go.” You say and leave the door open as you find your purse. “You ready?” You ask and he nods, stepping back after you close the door so you can lock up.

He guides you towards the truck and opens the door for you. “So how do you feel about going across the border for dinner?” He asks. “There’s a great little restaurant on the river that serves the best food you’ll ever eat.”

You nod, “I’m down for anything.” You promise and you get up into his truck, watching him close the door and walk around. He comes across as a strong man and you love that he takes your hand as soon as he is driving down the street. “I’m really happy you came back to ask me on a date. I kicked myself for not getting your number.” You confess, squeezing his hand.

He hums as he guides the truck down the road towards the river. “I had to leave sooner than I wanted to.” He reminds you. “Asshole husband wanted to sit on his butt watching the game instead of helping set up for the entire family coming over.” He snorts. “Poor bastard never spent days making tamales at the table with mama.”

You scoff, “I feel bad for some women. They are completely stuck in their homes doing everything instead of following their dreams, doing what they want. I mean, I work in a diner but at least I’m standing on my own two feet and not dependent on some asshole who doesn’t do shit for my weekly grocery money.”

He finds that refreshing and he nods. “My mama was a “homemaker”.” He tells you. “But she ran our house, our lives.” He chuckles. “Pop would drive mama to the store for groceries because when they were first married he told her he expected the shopping to be done by her.” He shoots you a grin. “She made him eat those words and he ended up loving going shopping with her every week.”

You giggle, “your mama sounds like an incredible woman.” Javier nods, his brow furrowed, “she was.” Your smile drops and you squeeze his hand, “I’m sorry. I lost my parents when I was eighteen to a car accident. They left me their house and that’s how I’ve been able to survive.” You confess, “I- I’m sorry. It hurts. You want to talk to them, tell them everything that happens in your life, but they aren’t there. It’s horrible.” You admit, feeling your eyes sting with unshed tears for your own family.

“I’m sorry.” Javi flips his hand over yours and laces his fingers through to hold your hand. He squeezes it gently. “I know you have to miss them. I miss my mama every damn day.” He murmurs quietly. “Don’t ever apologize for missing someone you love.”

You love that you can understand his grief and he can understand yours. It's hard to relate when your partner hasn't lost a parent so you feel even more connected to Javier. He pulls up outside the restaurant moments later and helps you out, his hand on your back as he guides you into the restaurant. You feel protected and you love how he takes charge as he gives his name and pulls out your chair when you sit down at the table.

He tells you what he plans to order, “it’s the best you’ve ever had.” He promises, tapping the menu. When the waitress comes up, he orders two beers after checking with you and then looking back at you as she walks away. “So, tell me how you came to be at the diner?” He asks. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in there before, but I work odd hours a lot.”

You tap your fingers on the table, “my friend, Pam. She’s well, she was my mom’s best friend and she owns the diner. After my parents died, she was my rock and offered me a job. I planned to go to college but that kind of got pushed aside from grief and I’ve been there ever since. Maybe one day I’ll go to college but for now, I don’t mind working at the diner. I take weird shifts since a lot of the other girls have families. I’m happy to help them out since I’m alone.” You confess, offering him a shrug of your shoulder.

He nods, knowing that he doesn't mind the long, odd hours that come with his job sometimes. Although Lorraine would constantly complain when something would interfere with her plans. Like public safety and criminals would just stop at five when everyone else got off work.

The waitress brings back your beers and you tell Javier to order so you can have the same thing. “I’ll see if your recommendation is up to scratch.” You tease, picking up your beer to clink it against his. “To first dates.” He toasts and you smile, “to first dates.” Javier smirks after he has a sip, “so what happens if my recommendation isn’t up to your standard?” You giggle, setting your bottle down to take his hand in yours, “then you won’t get the blowjob I’ve been imagining since you left the diner yesterday.”

His cock twitches in his jeans. “Blow job?” He asks, sure that you’re fucking with him. “Thought good girls didn’t like to suck cock?” He had stopped asking for a blow job after it was treated like a chore. He had taken the hint, but he damn sure hadn’t gone down on Lorraine either - just sticking to sex. He had counted it as another strike against the relationship. If the sex life dried up and they weren’t even married, what would it look like in ten years? He didn’t want to find out.

You lean closer, lowering your voice, “who said I was a good girl?” You tease and you love the way he inhales sharply. “Baby.” He murmurs and you turn his hand over, tracing circles on his palm, “you’re sexy and capable, why wouldn’t I want to be on my knees for you?”

Javi shivers, feeling his body respond to the promise in your eyes. “Then you’ll be on them later on.” He promises, imagining the way you would look up at him with his cock in your mouth. “And then I’ll see how loud you can scream my name.”

You pick his hand up to press a kiss to his palm before you lower it back to the table, “I’m excited for that.” You murmur, “I, uh, I don’t usually - this isn’t what I do.” You clarify, “you’re the first man I’ve slept with since my ex and I broke up about six months ago. There’s something about you that makes me want to throw caution to the wind.”

“I don’t think any less of you.” He promises, smirking slightly. “I was right there with you, just as guilty.” He winks playfully and tilts his head. “Why did you and your ex break up? Was he just stupid?”

You sigh, “he wanted me to move across the country to Florida. I couldn’t leave my parents’ house. I know it’s stupid but it’s the last connection I have to them. I couldn’t sell it and move. He refused to stay in Laredo and we broke up. He’s dating some girl in Miami now. It wasn’t meant to be.” You confess, “and you? Why did you break up with your ex?”

Javi knows this might be something you don’t like but he sighs. “She was pushing for marriage and wouldn’t listen when I told her that we needed to fix some things in our relationship first.” He tells you honestly. “She kept pushing for me to quit the department, go work for her dad.” He snorts. “I don’t want to fucking sell furniture.”

You nod in understanding, “you can’t just get married without sorting those issues out. That’s a hot ticket to divorce. And you definitely don’t look like a furniture salesman. Annoying fuckers.” You snort, “you need to make the right choice for you otherwise you’ll be too old with kids and look back thinking what the fuck did I do with my life?” You know life is short.

He laughs and nods. “Exactly.” He shakes his head. “What about you?” He asks. “You want kids? The life?” He isn’t opposed to it, but it’s not like he is rushing to find a woman to pump out kids for him. He just kind of assumed they would always one day happen, although one day seemed to be a far off concept.

You shake your head, “I’m not in a rush. I do want to get married, have kids. My parents had a great marriage. They were partners but they - my mom could only have me. They wanted more kids. I would like a couple of kids. A husband. A dog. All of it. But not yet. I am still figuring myself out.” You confess, continuing to trace his palm.

“And what have you figured out so far?” He asks, finding it easy to talk to you. You aren’t playing games, being coy. It’s nice to just talk about things without any expectations or debates about what he should want. He got plenty of that from Lorraine’s family.

“That I am stronger than I thought.” You confess, “after my parents died…I thought I would crumble. But I didn’t. I got stronger and I miss them so much but I’m surviving. I need to find who I am without my grief. I am slowly getting there.” You murmur, “I want to enjoy life to the fullest. That’s my goal. In honor of my parents.”

“That’s a good tribute to them.” He agrees. The rest of the dinner is amazing, both of you talking about everything and anything. Javi tells you some jokes that make you laugh and there’s plenty of flirting as well. Even as you agree that it’s the best food you’ve had. Now you are in the truck parked in front of your house again and Javi wonders if you are going to invite him in.

Javi comes around to open the passenger door and he walks you to the front door of your house, his hand on your back until you turn to face him. You step closer, placing your hands on his chest, “do you want to come in?” You ask, biting your lip, prepared for him to say no and you should be more coy but you want him again.

He licks his lips and nods. "I want to come in." He promises you, happy that he had slipped another condom into his wallet. He presses closer and leans in, kissing you softly before he pulls away. "Open the door, hermosa." He hums, his hands sliding down from your hips to your ass. "This time I want to see you naked."

His words make you grin and you fumble slightly as you grab your keys until you manage to get the door open. You step inside, his hands around your waist as you walk in and he kicks the door shut behind him, spinning you around to press you up against it. You gasp in delight and wrap your arms around his neck, dragging his mouth to yours.

This time he can spend time on you. Stripping you down and feasting on your body while drowning himself in the pleasure of it. Everything blurs in his mind, all his problems fade and you are exciting. You are just as eager as he is. His cock is already starting to hard just from your soft lips yielding to him and his tongue slides against yours as you gasp into his mouth.

His thigh pushes between your legs and you grind down onto him as his tongue tangles with yours. You moan into his kiss, your hands sliding to the buttons of his shirt, starting to work it open so you can touch more of him.

Javi likes that you are undressing him. Likes that you are taking charge even if you are the one with your back against the wall. He pushes his thigh up a little higher as you grind down on it and he can feel the dampness starting to grow. "Fuck." he groans, breaking away and kissing down your neck. "No panties?" He twitches against your stomach.

“I was feeling lucky.” You tease, shoving his shirt open and you caress his chest once his skin is bare. “Shit. You’re so handsome.” You murmur against his hair as he kisses down to your collarbone and you scratch your nails over his nipples, grinding onto his jeans.

Javi hisses your name, hands sliding back up your dress to find the zipper. He doesn't want to just push your dress up again but he needs to touch you. "You are fucking gorgeous." He finds your lips again to kiss you as he drags the small zipper down.

His words make your body heat up and you know he means it, it’s not just to get into your pants. You haven’t even made it down the hall, the chemistry between you sizzles and you arch your back to allow him to pull the zipper down, his shirt hitting the floor when he finally shrugs out of it when you whine.

He chuckles, stepping backs so he can peel your dress down and reveal your bra. "Fuck," his hands cup your tits and he is delighted to find that the snap for your bra is in the front, letting him unclip it easily.

His eyes are dark and you love how hungry he looks as he pushes your bra off your shoulders and cups your tits as soon as it hits the floor. Your hands slide down to his belt, working to open in your desperation to see all of him, feel all of him.

Your hands are hot and eager on his skin, opening his belt with a hunger that jerks his hips towards you as you pull at the belt. "Let me- let me get you to the bedroom." He grunts, knowing that he wants to spread you out.

You nod, knowing you want him in a bed so you shimmy your dress down, kick off your heels, and take his hand to guide him to your bedroom while completely naked. His free hand works on his belt, letting it drop to the floor, and you open the door to your bedroom.

"Cute bed." He hums, noting your flowery bedspread. "Maybe I should have brought my handcuffs to tie you to it."

You smirk, “next time, officer.” You promise and waste no time sinking down to your knees, working on the zipper of his jeans, “now, I do believe I promised you a blow job if your recommendation was good enough and that was the best food I’ve had in a while.” You smirk and lean in to kiss his belly while you open his jeans until you reach in to pull his hard cock out. “Fuck. It looks as good as it feels.” You murmur, gripping him until you lean in to flick your tongue over the drop of precum before you take him into your mouth.

"Oh fuck." Javi's eyes roll back in pleasure and he fights to open them again and keep his gaze centered on you. "You- fuck, you - you are good at this." He pants out, reaching out and caressing your cheek and jaw as you take him deep into your mouth and hollow your cheeks around him. "Fuck."

You moan around him, loving the way he tries to not thrust into your throat but you want it. You grab his thighs, managing to pull his pants down further so you can cradle his balls while you take him deeper, choking when he hits the back of your throat. You splutter slightly and take a deep breath, pushing his cock down your throat as you breathe through your nose.

He likes that you choke but keep going. You don’t care that your eyes are watering and your makeup is smearing. Your eyes are watching him and your mouth feels like heaven around his cock.

“Fuck, “I’m going to cum.” Javi warns, loving how you just hum around him. A few seconds later, he’s cumming down your throat, growling your name and panting breathlessly. 

Pulling off his cock once you’ve swallowed every drop, you love how he is immediately hauling you to your feel and pushing you down on the bed, “It’s your turn.” He smirks, spreading your thighs as he settles between them, finding a pretty shaved landing strip. “You groomed for me?” He asks playfully. “You shouldn’t have.” 

You chuckle, flushing and shaking your head, “just wanted to make sure your dessert was presented nicely.” You tease, watching him settle between your thighs. He kisses your skin and you whimper, “hope you like it, officer.”

Javi smirks and nudges his nose against your clit, inhaling the heady scent of your arousal. You got wet while sucking his cock and he uses his fingers to pull your folds apart to expose the sensitive skin. “Let me show you how much.” He coos before he is sliding his tongue through your folds with a pleased groan.

You whimper, running your fingers through his hair, loving how his tongue feels. It’s wet and hot and makes you gasp when he flicks it over your clit. “Baby.” You whine, “you feel so good.” You compliment, tugging on his hair.

Javi wants to make this good for you. You sucked his cock and your cunt feels like heaven. He wants to see what you look like when you fall apart on his tongue. Eager to see how you moan and thrash around for him as he flicks his tongue over your clit.

It’s mind blowing how good his tongue feels against your clit, sucking on your folds and he pushes his tongue into your pussy. You watch him, shifting onto your elbow to watch him, “fuck, handsome, you’re so good at that.”

He hums against your folds, winking at you playfully from his place between your thighs, his mouth still attached to your cunt. He loves how vocal you are, how sweet the whines are when your thighs tense. His fingers dig into your hips and hold you in place.

You rock your hips against his face as he works his tongue deep in your pussy, your fingers tangled in his hair, and his nose presses just right against your clit. “Fuck. Oh shit. That - that’s it.” You pant, loving how good it feels as he works you up.

He wants you to cum. He wants to see your cunt flutter before he slides inside you. Groaning into you as your fingers tug at his hair and his cock twitches against the sheets. He pulls his tongue out of your pussy and flicks it over your clit before sucking it into his mouth.

"Oh my - fuck!" You cry when he sucks on your clit and your eyes roll into the back of your head. You love it. You fucking love it. You gasp, thighs starting to shake around his head, and you moan his name when you finally fall apart. You cry out, thighs squeezing his head while you soak his chin.

Javi moans into your folds. He loves when a woman comes apart for him. It’s addictive and he loves that just as much as he loves cumming himself. Lapping at your juices until he pulls away with his mouth shiny with your slick, he kisses your clit and then starts to work his way up your body.

You pant, catching your breath as he kisses up your body, wrapping his lips around your nipple, and his cock is hard against your thigh. You reach down to wrap your fingers around him, pumping his cock, “need you inside me, baby.” You demand breathlessly.

“Fuck.” He groans against your chin. “Do you have a condom in your nightstand?” His pants are too far away for his liking and he doesn’t want to pull away from your grip.

You nod, stretching out after you release his cock to grab a condom from your nightstand. His hands squeezing your ass as you turn onto your side, grabbing the condom. You shove it into his hand and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face to yours to kiss him.

Javi can kiss a woman and open up a condom without looking at it. Focusing on you as he pulls the rubber out and rolls it down his cock. Groaning as he pumps himself a few times to position himself between your thighs.

You moan into his mouth when he starts to enter you, stretching you out like he did the day before behind the diner. "Fuck." You pant against his chin, shifting your gaze so you can watch him push into you. "You're so gorgeous, baby." You murmur, kissing along his jaw after a moment of watching him until he's pressing against your cervix.

He chuckles, thinking that should be his comment to you. Turning his head to press his lips to your and give you a moment to relax before he starts to move.

You let him set the pace, lifting your thighs onto his hips while your hands explore his chest, up to his shoulders, and down his back until you’re squeezing his ass. He’s strong above you, making you feel like the world outside doesn’t exist, and that makes you whimper into his kiss.

Javi is a passionate lover, he pours himself in the intimacy with total abandon. Forgetting everything else but the way you move under him and respond to every thrust.

His thrusts are deep but unhurried, making your chest heave against his, his hand coming up to squeeze your breast and you whine his name. "Feel so good, baby. Better. It's gotten better." You moan, wrapping your legs around him.

Your comment makes him huff against your chin, smirking slightly as he continues to rock into you. “And the next time will be even better.” He teases. “And then even better the time after that.”

"Fuck, you're gonna have me addicted to you." You tease, "gonna need to keep you in my bed every damn day to use your cock." You chuckle when he twitches inside of you. "And I want - God, I want you in it every day."

He groans, completely agreeing with your line of thinking. “Works for me.” He kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. “Pussy feels amazing and you are incredible.” He squeezes your breast gently.

You smile at his words, glad he’s on the same page, and you rock your hips up to grind against him, moaning when his pelvis rubs your clit. “Fuck yes. There.” You pant when he hits something incredible inside you and his pelvis rubs your clit. “Keep - keep going. Just like that.”

He pants, trying to keep his hips angled the same way. Wanting to hear you moan again. “There?” He asks, huffing proudly when you nod. “Yes, just- oh god.” You whimper, making him rock his hips a little harder, knowing you are close to cumming.

"Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Ja-" You cut yourself out with a cry as you clamp down on his cock, lost in the sensations of your orgasm while he continues to rock into you as best he can while you squeeze him.

He grits his teeth, hissing in pleasure as he works you through that orgasm. Loving how your walls spasm around him and flutter. Your eyes skip closed and your head tilts back, letting him kiss along your chin as he works you through and pushes towards his own.

The pleasure makes your toes curl and you whimper, walls fluttering around him. "So good. So good, baby. Want - need you to cum for me." You plead, scratching down his back as you rock your hips to meet his.

Your lips meet his and he groans into your mouth, ramping up his thrusts and hearing his hips slap against the back of your ass as he fucks you. Grunting in pleasure as he gets closer and closer.

The moment he falls apart makes you moan into his mouth, your tongue sliding against his when his groan vibrates against your lips and his cock twitches inside of you. You caress his back, letting him rock himself through his climax.

“Fuck.” He hisses, kissing you again and collapsing against you for a moment. He can savor it, rest for a second and not immediately pull away. It’s not like you’re behind the diner this time. He kisses you softly a few more times before he finally reaches between you to grip the base of his cock to make sure the condom stays in place.

It’s impossible to not relax into the sheets beneath you. Your body buzzing from the orgasms and you watch him as he ties off the condom and tosses it into the bin near your bed. “Come here, handsome.” You order, dragging him back into your bed so you can pull him close to kiss him. “That’s was so damn good.” You murmur, running your fingers through his hair.

He chuckles, his head leaning against the headboard and his arm comes around you as you snuggle against him. “Damn good.” He agrees. “Want a cigarette but I don’t want to move.” He’s relaxed and blissful right now, body humming with pleasure and making him a little drowsy.

“I’d offer you one but I don’t smoke.” You murmur, caressing his chest, “you maybe want to come over for dinner? When you’re free?” You ask, wanting to see him again even if he’s not left your place yet. You want to keep this going.

“When?” He asks, even though he’s not even digested the last meal that you’ve shared together.

“Whenever you’re not working. I work the day shift tomorrow so I'm free tomorrow night. If that’s not too soon?” You bite your lip, wondering if he’s going to get scared off by you being too eager.

He smirks as he looks down at you. “Whatcha making?” He asks playfully. “Have to be pretty good to beat those pancakes and pussy.”

**** 

“Fuck baby, I’ve got fifteen minutes.” Javi grumps against your lips, fumbling with his belt and pushing you against the wall of the diner again. It’s been two weeks since Thanksgiving and he’s been over at your place every night since the first date. Chucho chuckled whenever he saw Javi, sometimes he was only home to wash his clothes or change. “Fuck, pull my cock out and I’ll get the condom.”

You whine when he pulls back and you work on opening his pants to pull his hard cock out of his uniform. “Shit, Javi. Hurry up. I need you.” You plead, knowing you don’t have a lot of time and you want to have him inside you again. You’ve had sex every day since the first day you met, you’re addicted to him, and you desperately need him right now.

“Hurrying, baby, fuck.” He twitches in your hand and nearly laughs in relief when he finds the condom he has stuck in his pocket when he got dressed this morning. He had known he was coming since you are working the late shift tonight and won’t be home until late. Your house feeling like home to him since he’s spent nearly every night there. “Fucking thought about this all damn day.” As he pushes your panties down, he kisses you again and pushes the condom into your hand before he slides his hand between your thighs to rub your clit.

You fumble to open the foil packet, letting it drop to the ground as you work fast to roll the condom down his length despite his fingers working your clit. “Fuck. Me too. All damn day. Think of you whenever anyone orders the breakfast.” You moan, squeezing his length. “Come on, baby. Fuck me.” You plead and let go of him.

He’s shuffling between your thighs and grips your leg to lift it up and position himself before he’s pushing deep. Swallowing your soft cry of pleasure and giving you a groan of his own as he immediately starts to fuck you.

He stretches you out and you whine, tilting your head against the wall of the diner, his lips immediately attaching to your skin there. “Oh God.” You pant, gripping his shoulders as he thrusts into you, still dressed in the uniform you love.

Javi grunts, driving into you over and over again his knees hit the wall behind you. “Fuck baby.” He’s completely wrapped up in you, hasn’t even thought about Lorraine since that second date with you. He’s been happier and lighter since you’ve been with him.

He grunts as he rocks into you, knowing there's a diner full of customers that haven't got a clue that you are outside getting fucked by the handsome cop who came in for coffee and a donut. "So good, Jav." You whimper, lifting your thigh a little higher and he pushes deeper, making you moan. You were wet as soon as you saw his patrol car pull up and you are already climbing to your climax.

“Cum for me baby.” He begs against your pulse, pressing kisses to your galloping pulse and scraping his teeth over your skin. “Fuck, I want you to cum for me.”

You can't deny his request, your pussy fluttering around his cock until you fall over the edge. Gripping his uniform in your fingers, you clamp down on his cock with a cry out his name you can't guarantee the diner didn't hear, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

Javi is cumming right after you are. Pent up from thinking about this, about you all day. He’s groaning your name and moving up to capture your lips in a searing kiss as he floods the condom with ropes of his seed as his knees buckle slightly.

You love how he feels when he cums, the way he tenses up, and you slide your hands down, caressing his badge as he pants against your lips. "That was a nice surprise." You smile, "I love when you come to see me at work."

He hums as he kisses you again. “Wanted to come see you.” He admits. “I’ll be back when you close the diner.” He kisses you again and starts to pull out of you gently. “Make sure you get home safe.”

You smile, “my hero.” You coo and watch as he ties off the condom while you pull your panties up and push your dress down your thighs. “I’ll see you later then. You want a coffee to go?” You ask and he nods, playfully smacking your ass once he’s all tucked away. You gasp, smacking his chest, and you walk back into the diner to grab him that cup while Adrian eyes you from the kitchen window. “Here you go, baby.” You murmur as you hand him the cup, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’ll see you later, officer.” You love how he winks before he strides out of the diner, eyed by several of the women but you know you’ll be in the one in bed with him later.

At the end of his shift, Javi pulls back up to the dinner again. Parking the car and turning off the engine while he watches you work through the windows. You move with grace, picking up the condiment bottles to wipe down and store for the night. It had been a hard end of shift, he had a young boy die in his arms. A drug overdose. Hours spent at the hospital and plenty of paperwork, but the worst part was telling those poor parents their son was never coming home. He sighs softly as he sets out of the car and leans against the hood, lighting up a much needed cigarette.

You see Javier waiting for you after you lock the front door and Adrian lights his own cigarette. “That one will be trouble for you, mark my words.” He says and strides off, “goodnight.” You call out to him and shove the keys in your purse, making your way over to Javier. “You look stressed.” You observe, “what happened?” You ask as you step closer to wrap your arms around him.

His arms wind around you and he drags you close, needing your warmth to chase away to sorrow. “Had a kid die tonight.” He tells you, his voice rough with emotion. “Overdosed on cocaine.” He swallows harshly and sighs. “Fucking sixteen years old. In the fucking morgue.”

“Shit.” You murmur, resting your cheek on his chest, feeling his heart pound. “I’m so sorry, baby. That - I can’t even imagine.” You hold each other, knowing how his job takes a toll on his mental health. He feels helpless sometimes and doesn’t feel like he’s doing enough. “I’m sorry.” You whisper, pulling back to look at him.

“I know.” The compassion and worry shines out of your eyes, making him fall for you just a little harder. You are gorgeous, kind, compassionate and warm. Exactly the kind of woman his mother would have picked for him if she had been alive. She would have loved you. He reaches out and cups the back of your neck to drag you to him for a desperate kiss, needing to feel something other than loss.

You kiss him fiercely, wishing you could take away the pain in his eyes, and he’s so damn brave. Not many people could handle that job. You peck his lips when he pulls back, “let’s go back to mine. Get some food.” You caress his cheek and he nods, walking you over to your car. “I’ll see you at home.” You promise and slide into your car. He waits until you’re pulling out of the parking lot to get in his car and follow you to your house.

He hopes that you don’t mind his cruiser outside your house, but you’ve never said a word about it. He doesn’t have the energy to go back to the ranch and get his truck. Drained emotionally and needing something that he can’t say out loud. He needs comforts that only you can provide.

When he walks behind you while you’re unlocking the front door, you nearly drop your keys but you manage to open it. You step inside and groan when you step out of your shoes and throw your purse down. He works on removing his holster, kicking off his shoes, and you turn around when he removes the cuffs. “Give those to me.” You demand, holding out your hand. His eyebrows raise, “you want me to use them on you, hermosa?” He asks and you smirk, “no. I want to use them on you.”

He’s surprised by your answer, but he trusts you. Only frowning slightly as he hands them over and finishes removing his utility belt and radio. He turned it off at the end of his shift, but he’s happy to have the damn thing off. “What do you plan to do?”

“I want you to strip down and I’m going to handcuff you to my bed. Make you forget about everything except how good I’m making you feel.” You explain as you step closer to him, “and I want to make sure you have the key.”

You nod, setting the key down on the counter to make sure it’s safe, and you bite your lip, “strip down. Now.” You order, “I want to see all of you, baby.” He nods, reaching up to start unbuttoning his shirt and you watch him with hungry eyes.

Stripping down is almost cathartic, the weight of his duties sliding off like his clothes. He hesitates on his briefs but you nod. “Those too.” And he hooks his fingers under her elastic band and drags them down so he is standing naked in your entryway. His cock is half hard, but he doesn’t shy away from you seeing him.

You love how strong he looks but you want to break him down, let him take the weight of the world off his shoulders. ���Go lay on my bed.” You order, “I’ll be in there in a second.”

He nods, turning and walking down to the bedroom and pulling back the covers to lay in the familiar sheets. He watches the door, getting even harder at the prospect of turning everything over to you and letting you control his pleasure

You strip down to your underwear, leaving him to wait for you, and you grab a cup of ice, bringing it with you along with the handcuffs. You want to take him out of his mind and you love how he looks in your bed, his cock resting on his lower stomach as he waits for you. “Hey baby.” You smirk, striding over to the bed and you set the cup of ice on the nightstand. “You wanna give me a safe word in case you want out of the handcuffs?”

He’s rolling his eyes and snorting. “Let me out of the fuckin’ cuffs.” He chooses, smirking when you huff at him. “I’m good, baby. I promise.”

You giggle, “whatever you say, babe.” You straddle him, loving the way he groans and you grab his wrist, lifting it to your headboard to cuff one hand. You work fast to secure his other hand and you look down at him, “fuck. You look good like this. At my mercy.” You scrap your nails down his chest, loving the way his cock twitches against your ass. You bend down to press your lips to his for a moment until you pull back, reaching for the cup on the nightstand. “What-?” He asks but you shush him, taking a piece of ice in your hand. You shuffle down his body, pressing the ice to his chest, chuckling when he hisses, and you slowly drag the ice cube over his nipple. He clenches his jaw at the coldness but you remove the ice cube and flick your hot tongue over it.

He hisses at the sensation, drawn to the contrast of hot and cold and how it makes his skin ache. You are distracting him, you are his distraction. Blanking out his mind to everything but your touch. “Take off your panties.” He grunts. “Want to feel your pussy on me.” He begs but you just smirk and shake your head. “I’m in charge baby.” You coo, caressing his cheek and dragging the ice cube down the edge of his jaw. “You just lay there and let me take care of you.”

He groans and you giggle, dragging the ice cube down his neck, your tongue following its path. He hisses and you smile against his skin while you circle his other nipple with the ice. It’s melting fast and soon you are flicking your tongue over his nipple while you grab the cup of ice to get another cube. With the new cube in hand, you drag it down his belly, pressing hot kisses in the wake of the cold until you approach his cock. You settle between his legs and drag the ice along the underside of his cock that rests on his belly. He hisses and you smirk, removing the ice to drag your tongue along the same path, taking the head of his cock into your hot mouth.

“Fuuuuuck.” Javi hisses, eyes closing and his head tilts back against the pillows. His arms are stretched above his head and he loves how you are making him forget everything. It’s beautiful, all he can think about is what you are doing to him and how he wishes he could touch you. “Fuck yes baby,” he groans, opening his eyes and looking down. “Try- try the ice in your mouth.” He pants.

You pull off of him, shoving the small ice cube in your mouth then you take him again. The hot and cold are a striking contrast and you groan at the way his cock twitches in your mouth while you drag the ice cube down his length.

“Shit- oh fuck!” The handcuffs rattle slightly as he tugs against them and he can't help but try to rock his hips up. “You are - fuck - you are so goddamn perfect.” 

He would deny he has ever whimpered in his life, but an almost tortured sound comes out of his mouth. Jaw slack and eyes closed again in pleasure as you suck his cock. “Fuck- I want- fuck, I want to lick your pussy.” He groans.

You should deny him. Make sure this is only about him, but his whimper and plea are so delicious. You pull off his cock and shift off the bed, shoving your panties down and taking your bra off. “You want me to sit on your face, baby?” You ask as you straddle his stomach, letting him feel how wet you are. “Please baby.” He huffs and you giggle, shifting up until you’re straddling his face. His hot breath washes over your folds and you lower your cunt to his mouth while gripping the headboard.

Javi can be generous, but he’s more so with you. He’s a little submissive. Something he had never had in a relationship before, something he never even thought about wanting but it seems natural with you. Sometimes you need him to give you what you need and right now, you are giving him what he needs. His tongue slides through your folds greedily, hungry for the taste of you and to give you a bit of the pleasure you give him.

You gasp his name as his hot tongue slides through your folds and flicks over your clit. “Oh fuck.” You whimper, trying not to grind down on his face when his hands are cuffed. You let go of the headboard to squeeze your breast with one hand, closing your eyes at the sensation, and you squeal when he sucks on your clit. “Javi, baby, you’re so good. Such a good boy.”

His neglected cock twitches at that statement and he should be pissed but he’s not. He’s liking it. He groans into your folds. Licking at your clit as much as he can.

You rock your hips, grinding down onto him as you reach back to wrap your fingers around his cock, wanting to feel him twitch in your hand while you rock on his tongue.

Javi groans happily into your cunt, bucking his hips up into your grip. Right here is where he could die happy, buried in your pussy with your hand wrapped around his cock. He’s never had the kind of feelings for someone like he feels for you, wanting to put you first instead of himself.

You work yourself on his tongue and it doesn't take long for you to fall apart above him, squeezing his cock as your thighs smother his face. "Fuck!" You cry, nearly falling backwards as you cum on his face.

Javi chuckles breathlessly, knowing that if he was uncuffed, he would flip you over and push into you right this second. He loves how you cum shamelessly, loving orgasms and sex as much as he does and you don’t play coy or demure.

You pant as you relax above him, releasing his cock from your grip, and you shift off his face. “I’m gonna ride you now.” You tell him, moving to grab a condom from your nightstand. “Gonna need a new box.” You tease as you straddle his thighs, opening the condom to roll it down his cock.

“That’s because we fuck all the time.” Javi groans as you wrap your hand around him and roll the rubber down his length. He smirks. “You’re addicted to my cock.”

“Don’t hear you complaining, officer Peña.” You snort and shift closer until you’re positioning him at your pussy so you can sink down onto him. “Fuck. I am addicted.” You confess breathlessly as he stretches you out. “I love it.” You whimper, shuffling a little until your knees are digging in the mattress so you can start to move on top of him.

“You look good on my cock.” Javi praises breathless. “Feels even better.” He watches your tits bounce slightly and groans when you swivel your hips and clench down around him. “Fuck, one day-“ he pants. “One day I’m gonna feel you without the condom.”

“I’m on the pill. I just - I wasn’t sure what you wanted.” You confess, “you want to feel me bare? Fill me up? Cum inside me? Officer?” You coo as you lean closer, pressing your lips to his chin as you rock back onto him.

Javi groans and chases your lips, huffing out a curse when you pull away from his reach and he can’t drag you back. “Yes, fuck yes.” He hisses. “Want to feel you bare around my cock.”

You know it’s a rash decision but you’re lost in the lust and security that you take the pill like clockwork. You shift back and lift off his cock, pulling off the condom, and you moan as you notch him back at your entrance, slowly sinking down to feel all of him without the barrier between you.

Javi moans your name, his hands curling into fists and he curses that he can’t touch you. “Fuck baby, yes.” He groans. “Just like- fuck- move.” He begs.

You chuckle, loving how wrecked he looks, and you shake your head. You stay still on his cock and he tries to rock his hips but you clench your thighs to stay still. "Hermosa." He whines and you lean forward, pressing your lips to his, "fuck, I love to hear you beg. Now I want to hear you moan." You murmur and rock back onto his cock, starting a pace that makes you look like you're in the Kentucky Derby.

His toes curl in pleasure and his entire body tenses. “Fuck!” He yelps, wanting more and not sure that he can take it. You are perfect, tight and hot around him and like a vice when you roll your hips just the right way. You’re beautiful and he loves it.

You love how wrecked he looks, his eyes glazed over as you rock on top of him. “Feel so good, Javi, baby. Oh shit. Feel like you’re in my guts. I love this.” You pant, your palms slapping against his chest as you ride him.

He’s never been such a passive participant in sex but all he can do is let you ride him, his hips are planted against the bed. His cock twitching every time you slam back down on him. “Fuck you need to cum.” He begs. “Cum baby, I’m not gonna last.”

He’s so whiney and you love it, reaching down to rub your clit, and you moan his name. “Feel so good, baby. I’m gonna - shit. Oh - oh!” You cry out, clamping down on his cock and you soak him, loving how you feel every vein and ridge of his cock.

You clamp down around him and his feet curl in pleasure and he can’t help but rock his hips up. Your hips have stalled and you aren’t moving as your walls pulse around him. “Fuck baby, fuck, fuck.” He hisses, feeling his body pulling tight.

You want to see him fall apart, feel it inside you, so you grip the headboard over his head, stretching over his body. You slam your hips down against him, the sound filling the room and you lean in to kiss his jaw. “Cum for me, baby. Fill me up. Want you to cum inside me.”

It’s like he needed your permission. Rocking his hips up, your name is called out loudly as he buries his cock deep and paints your walls with his seed. Panting and whining as he rides out the best fucking orgasm he’s ever had. “Fuuuuuuuck.”

The sensation of his hot cum filling you up has your walls fluttering around him again, a soft cry escaping your lips while you grind back against him. “Oh God.” You pant, shifting to press your lips to his as his cock twitches inside you.

Javi takes control of the kiss even if he can’t pull you closer. His tongue sliding into your mouth possessively and his moans flowing into your mouth as he rides out his orgasm. Only tempering the kiss when you collapse against him in pleasure.

Panting against his jaw, your body is buzzing but you manage to shift off him, fumbling for the key you placed on the nightstand next to the cup of now melted ice. You reach up, wanting to release him from the cuffs, and manage to free him after some struggle to get the key in during your post orgasm haze.

Javi watches you fumble with the key, his smile soft and he lifts his head to kiss right above your breast. “I love you.” He murmurs softly.

You are surprised, eyes widening and you stop what you’re doing to look down at him. He stares back and you see the apprehension in his eyes until you grin, “I love you too.” You surge down to press your lips to his, “I love you.” You murmur between pecks. “Let me -” You manage to finish unlocking his hands, the handcuffs heavy as you set them down on the nightstand.

His arms go around you, pulling you close and rolling you onto your back so he is hovering over you. Caging you with his body. “You have been the best thing to happen to me.” He promises, kissing you again. He’s not a man who gets sappy or waxes eloquent poems or constantly says ‘I love you’ but he shows he cares and he is happy you feel the same way. Feeling like this is supposed to be.

You can’t stop smiling, sliding your fingers through his hair and down his shoulders, “I love you, baby. You’re the best man I’ve ever met.” You promise and sigh, feeling safe and warm in his arms. You can’t believe how lucky you are to have met him, to have him.

He kisses you again, rolling over and tucking you into his side. “Give me about ten minutes and I’ll show you how bad I can be.” He teases playfully, closing his eyes and sighing happily.

You giggle, caressing his chest, and you close your eyes. You never imagined you’d find someone like Javier and you can’t wait to see what the future holds for you. You hope he’s your person.

**** 

“Why are you nervous?” Javi chuckles as he holds your hand, pulling up to the small ranch house. “He’s going to love you.” It’s only two days later, but Javi knows that it’s the perfect time to introduce you to his dad. Wanting this to be permanent and let you get over the big ‘meet the family’ fear that you have.

You squeeze his hand, “I don’t want him to think - we got together so soon after you broke up with Lorraine and I just - I don’t want him to think less of me.” You confess with a shrug, “it’s, uh, it’s important that he likes me.” You bite your lip and look at his childhood home.

“Baby, he’s gonna love you.” He squeezes your hand and brings it up to kiss the back of it. “He never really liked Lorraine, to be honest.” He flashes you a grin. “So you’re already better.”

You chuckle, relaxing a little, and you let him open your door before you walk to the front door and Chucho opens it, a big smile on his face. “So you’re the reason my son can’t stop smiling nowadays.” He winks and Javi blushes, “Pa.” He says and Chucho tuts, “he’s never here but I can see why. He didn’t exaggerate your beauty.” He says and you fluster, reaching for his hand and he pulls you in for a hug. You tear up a little, reminded of your father and how long it’s been since you had a hug like this, and you hug him back. “Javi said you are a charmer. I guess that’s where he gets it.” You tease and Chucho chuckles, guiding you into his home, and you immediately feel at ease.

Javi smiles at the way his dad is flirting with you. He would barely talk to Lorraine and it’s just another indicator that he has made the right choice with you. “Let me get everyone a drink while you two talk.” He winks at you and goes into the kitchen.

You sit down on the sofa with Chucho and demand he tells you about Javier and he chuckles, “Oh, I have some stories.” He begins to tell you about a teenage Javier and you hear the phone ring.

Javi rolls his eyes as he picks up the phone. “Peña residence.” He answers like he has his entire life. “Javi.” He groans and turns towards the kitchen door to make sure you don’t hear him. “Why the fuck are you calling, Lorraine?” He demands quietly.

“I’m surprised I got you. I’ve heard all about your little diner skank that you’ve been fucking. My friends have seen you around town. Told me all about your little dates. You never took me bowling.” She huffs and Javier rolls his eyes, “what do you want?” He demands again and she snorts, “I was calling to tell you I’m pregnant. I just found out. Went to the doctor to make sure and I’m about ten weeks.”

Javi’s stomach drops, feeling like he’s been punched in the gut. “Bullshit.” He huffs, “we used a condom every time.” Lorraine scoffs. “You know it’s not one hundred percent.” She reminds him and he shoves his hand through his hair. “So what? You need money for an abortion?” He asks, hoping that she wants to get rid of the baby.

She scoffs, “I’m not getting rid of it. I’m keeping the baby.” She declares, “and I want us to meet. Try and work this out. I know your dad will kill you if you don’t stand by me, do the right thing. You need to take responsibility for your actions, Javier.” Lorraine announces and hears his heavy breathing through the phone.

Fuck. Javi’s eyes close and he screws his face up in anger and confusion. She's right, Chucho would kill him. “Goddamnit.” He hisses, angry at himself because he’s going to have to break up with you. “Yeah, fine.” He spits out. “Tomorrow.” He hangs up the phone and sighs.

You are laughing at something Chucho says when Javi walks back into the room, looking a little pale. “Everything okay, babe?” You ask and frown when he smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah.” He murmurs and hands you a coke and his pop a beer. “Everything’s good.” He shrugs. “Got asked to take a double shift tomorrow.”

You nod, not sure if you believe him, but you can ask him later and you watch him as you sip your drink. He’s tense, like when he’s had a bad shift, but you try to focus on Chucho, wanting to make a good impression. Soon enough, you’re saying goodbye to Chucho with a promise to see him for dinner and Javier guides you to his truck to drive you home and you’re hoping he stays the night again since you don’t have an early shift. “What’s wrong, baby?” You ask, reaching out to caress his arm as he drives, “you seem so tense. You need a blowjob?” You tease, sliding your hand down to his lap.

“No.” He grabs your hand before you can touch his cock and laces his fingers with yours. “No, I’m good, baby.” He promises you. “I just have a headache.” He’s fucking praying that this is some kind of horrible joke or desperate attempt to get him back and he can tell her to fuck off and then explain everything to you. “I’m sorry I’m not better company tonight.”

You stare at him until you nod, “it’s okay. I have some Advil if you want.” You offer but he shakes his head, “I think I need an early night. Too many damn long shifts.” He says and you bring his hand up to kiss the back of his. “Go home and get some sleep. I’ll see you later.” You promise, not wanting him to get sick because he’s working too hard. He pulls up outside your house and you shuffle closer, leaning in to press your lips to his cheek. “It was great to meet your dad. I really like him. Good thing when I love his son.” You smirk and nudge your nose against his when he turns towards you.

“I love you.” The gruff words come out a little desperate, like he wants you to remember that in the future. He kisses you, devouring your mouth in one last kiss like it will be his last and he hates to break away. “Goodnight baby.”

You peck his lips, “goodnight, handsome.” You pat his chest and grab your purse, shifting out of his truck and you make your way to your front door, feeling his eyes on you as you unlock your door. You wave to him before you step inside and he sits there for a second until he finally pulls away. He needs to speak to Lorraine.

**** 

It takes him two days to call you. Swallowing harshly as the phone connects, his heart leaps when he hears your voice but he hates what he has to do. “Hey, it’s me.” He announces. “Hey baby, I’ve tried to call you.” You pout softly, and he closes his eyes. “Yeah I know. Listen - I, this isn’t working out. Okay?” He tells you. “I’m not gonna string you along. So yeah.”

You feel like you’ve been punched in the gut when you hear his words. You choke, trying to get your voice to work, “I- I don’t understand. What’s - why?” You blink, trying to stop the tears. “It’s just too much. I don’t want anything too heavy. I want to have fun.” He lies and you frown, “I didn’t want - I didn’t - okay.” You choke on a sob, “uh, I guess this is goodbye.” He hums, “yeah. Goodbye.” He says your name and the line goes dead. You sob, letting the phone hang from the cord and you collapse on the wall.

**** 

“Why the fuck do you want to go here?” Javi protests, pulling away from Lorraine as she steers him towards the dinner. “What does it matter?” She smirks at him and reaches for his hand again. “You’re through with her, right? So she’s just a waitress.” Javi shakes his head. “Goddamnit Lorraine.” He hisses and she pouts, stroking her flat stomach. “Don’t curse, it’s not good for the baby.” She’s been smug about their relationship, happy that he is back with her, even if she knows that he is unhappy. 

You are clearing a table when the bell above the door rings and your eyes widen when you see Javier and Lorraine. “Son of a bitch.” You mutter, unable to believe he’s back with her. He told you stories about how she would bully him into working for her dad, or calling in sick. She is controlling and you can’t believe he’s gone back to her. Maybe you were just a bit of fun. Your coworker offers to take the table but you shake your head, knowing you can’t run and hide. You walk over to their table and set some menus down. “Can I get you anything to drink?” You ask after you introduce yourself, feeling Javier’s eyes on you as you look at Lorraine.

“Baby, what should I have?” She asks coyly. “You’ve been here so much more than I have.” She flutters her lashes at Javi and he huffs, pulling his hand away when she reaches for him and leans back. “Just order a fucking drink.” He hisses, wishing that she had chosen any other restaurant in Laredo, but he’s sure she’s done this on purpose.

“I can’t have coffee. Maybe decaf.” She hums and you nod, “I’ll get you a decaf.” wondering if she has sleeping issues. You grab Javier a coffee without him asking and set them both down on the table after you breathe deeply at the coffee pots. “Can I get you anything to eat?” You ask, trying not to cry at how insane this situation is. “There’s a lot of things I can’t have but I’m starving. I’m eating for two.” She grins, placing her hand on her lower stomach. Your eyes widen and you nearly drop your pad, feeling like your heart has been crushed and you finally look at Javier.

Javi wants to just disappear, his eyes find yours and he begs you to understand. “Ten weeks.” He chokes out, wanting you to know that he didn’t cheat on you. This is a fucked up situation and he wishes it was you sitting opposite him.

You swallow harshly, knowing he got her pregnant just before he met you and it stings. You want to crawl under the table and sob but you won't give Lorraine the satisfaction. "Co-congrats." You offer him a weak smile and she beams, "we are so happy." Javier doesn't look happy but you tap your pen on your pad, "food?" You choke and Lorraine hums, ordering the oatmeal and Javier orders the All American just like he did the first time you met him. "Coming right up." You squeak and slam the ticket down for Adrian who offers you a look that says "I told you so" and you rush out the back door, covering your mouth as you try to not cry.

“Where are you going?” Javi is halfway out of his seat when Lorraine grabs his arm. “I’m going to the bathroom.” He hisses, jerking his arm away from her. “Quit being a bitch.” He turns around and strides towards the back door, bypassing the bathrooms.

The door opens and you are leaning against the wall when you see him walk towards you. "Don't" You plead, shaking your head. "Don't make this worse. Just go back in there and - and be with her." You plead, knowing that hearing his excuses will make you cry.

Javi stops and takes a breath. “I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen.” He promises you. “I’m so fucking sorry, hermosa.” He whispers before he turns back around and leaves like you want him to.

You watch him go until he heads back inside and you tilt your head back, refusing to let the tears fall and give Lorraine the satisfaction. You know he didn't cheat on you and that's what makes this worse. You love him but he has to be there for his child. Javier isn't the kind of man to walk away from responsibility and you know that's what he is with her. Time wasn't on your side and that's tragic. You compose yourself and walk back in, grabbing the food from the hot plate and you set it down. "Enjoy." You say flatly and walk off, leaving them to eat. When they are done, you remove the plates - Javier's food is hardly touched- and set the check down, not saying a word. Javier grabs his wallet and sets down more cash than the check. You don't walk over there to grab it, watching as Lorraine makes a show of getting out the booth and placing her hand on her stomach like she's seven months gone. "Thanks so much." Lorraine smirks, "maybe we will be back here with our baby for breakfast after church. We will see you then." She chuckles and grabs Javier, his eyes meeting yours and he nods before she is dragging him from the diner. You don't see Javier again. You decided, just before Javier's wedding day, to go on a trip. Get out of town and escape from the news that your love had gotten married. You don't hear the news that he didn't marry Lorraine until you return. When you're back. you hear that Javier had left to go join the DEA. Timing was never on your side.

**** 

“Where do you want to go eat?” Chucho asks and Javi shrugs. “Don’t know too many places open on Thanksgiving.” He answers, although he immediately thinks of the diner. He’s driven by there a few times in the days since he’s been home, but he’s never stopped in. “Well, damnit, I’m hungry.” His dad grumbles and Javi shakes his head. “Come on.” He huffs, grabbing his jacket. “Since you didn’t go grocery shopping, let’s go somewhere. Maybe they are still open on Thanksgiving.”

You smile at the old man who gives you a large tip for the holiday. You shove the money in the tip jaw to be split between you and Adrian when the bell rings. You turn around and your eyes widen when you see Chucho followed by a man you haven't seen in years. You inhale sharply, walking over to them. "Chucho. It's good to see you." You smile at the old man who you've seen at the store and around town several times. He never tried to justify his son's behavior and you never held malice towards him. "Happy Thanksgiving." You say and glance around, "pick any table. I'll get you some menus."

Javi stares, unable to believe that you are here. It’s like he’s dreaming like he has so many times before, coming into the diner to find you waiting for him. He murmurs your name and nods. “Good, uh, to see you.” He tells you, his heart pounding but you have to hate him, or at least think he’s an asshole. He is an asshole for what he did to you.

You finally look at him and God, he's still so fucking handsome. He has more lines on his face, but he still makes your heart pound. You hadn't heard about a child being born so you don't know what happened but you had heard Lorraine is now married to some big wig oil guy living in Dallas with two kids. "Good to see you." You murmur, turning around to grab some menus.

Javi’s eyes drop down to your ass before he looks away guiltily. He doesn’t need to be eying you like he had a chance, you’re probably married and have a couple of kids by now. “You shouldn’t have let that one get away.” Chucho tells him, having watched the way his son watched you. “Colombia might have been different.” Javi sighs and leans back. “Yeah, I know.” He grunts, glancing back at you as you come back with the menus, “believe me.”

You set the menus down, “coffee?” You ask and both men nod. You walk off to grab the pot and two cups, hating how your stomach feels like lead around Javier. It’s been years but you still think about him. You’ve been in and out of relationships but no one ever stuck in your heart like Javier did. Ridiculous considering you were together for two months. “What can I get you to eat?” You ask, grabbing your pad.

Chucho orders the Thanksgiving special and looks towards his son. Javi doesn’t even glance at the menu, too busy staring at you. “The All American if you still have it.” He tells you softly, glancing at your hand and noticing that you aren’t wearing a ring. You might just not wear one at work, but he’s selfishly hoping you are single even though you deserve someone to love and worship you.

Your heart twists at the familiar order and you nod, “hash browns, not grits.” You remember and he offers you a soft smile that makes your throat tighten. “That’ll be right out.” You nod and take the menus, handing the ticket to Adrian. “She owns the place now.” Chucho tells his son, not having spoken to him about you until today.

Javi’s brow shoots up and looks over at your back, watching as you methodically organize the condiments to bring over to them. “She deserves it.” He murmurs, thinking that you deserved a lot of nice things in life. “How often do you come here?” He asks.

“Couple of times a month when I want breakfast.” Chucho confesses, “I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t your business. She’s a good girl and I think you made a huge mistake letting Lorraine drag you along but it wasn’t my life. She is single, in case you were wondering. No husband or kids.” Chucho reveals quietly, tapping his fingers on the table.

“Pa.” Javi hates how his entire body thrills at the news that you are single. “She hates me. She has to fucking hate me after what I did.” He reminds his dad. “There’s not a chance in hell I would ever have another chance with her.” He watches as you turn back towards him and swallows. “Shit.”

You set the condiments down, feeling Javier’s eyes on you, and you smile at Chucho, “it’s good to see you again.” You tell his father, “your food will be out soon.” You walk away from the table, feeling Javier’s eyes on you and you reach for the menus, deciding to clean them off while you wait for their food.

“The least you could do is apologize.” Chucho huffs, making Javi’s shoulders round slightly. He knows that he owes you an apology and he sighs after a moment, tapping the table and standing up to walk over to you. “Can I talk to you?” He asks, sure that you will tell him to fuck off.

You glance at the empty diner and nod, gesturing for Javier to walk out the back door with you. You will let him give you his explanation, curious about why he didn’t end up marrying Lorraine. “Talk.” You order when you’re outside.

He’s nervous, rubbing his hands on his jeans and chuckles slightly. “Uh, so- uh, I owe you an apology.” He starts off. “I’m sorry. Lorraine called me, that day you met Pa and she told me she was pregnant.” He explains, knowing that it’s no excuse. “I was - shit, I was so angry at myself, because she wanted to get married for the baby, and I fucking just knew I had to marry that bitch.” He sighs. “And?” You prompt. “The night before the wedding she claimed she ‘had a miscarriage’.” He snorts. “I knew then that she had been faking the entire thing. Her cousin confessed. She knew we were together. Someone had see us out in town and she lied because she knew I wouldn’t shirk my responsibilities.”

You cross your arms, letting him sweat. You’ve had a lot of time to think about what happened. You huff, “did you not get her to take a pregnancy test?” You ask and he shakes his head, “she had a scan and a doctor’s test result.” You snort, “she’s inventive. Smarter than I gave her credit for.” You rub your forearms, “you really hurt me. I thought we had something. I really loved you. You devastated me and I had to work hard to recover from that, which is insane because we only dated for two months. You’ve been on my mind during every date I’ve been on. Compared every man I’ve been in a relationship with to you. I hated you for so long because you haunted me.” You shake your head and lower your arms, stepping back.

Javi sighs softly and doesn’t reach for you. “It’s safe to say you haunted me too.” He admits. “I- I came by your house.” He confesses softly. “The day I- my wedding day. I came to tell you how stupid I had been. How I wasn’t marrying her and that if you could take an idiot back, I would love you forever.” He flashes you a rueful grin. “You weren’t home that day. Or any day for the week that I came to your door.” He snorts. “Almost thought you had sold the house and moved.”

You stare at him, seeing the truth in his eyes, "I left town. Went away so I didn't show up at the church and try to get you to call it off." You chuckle humorlessly and shake your head. "I loved you so much I even considered telling you I'd be there for your child with Lorraine but I didn't want to be selfish and break up a family. I left and when I came back, I heard you'd joined the DEA. figured something had happened to the baby and you'd left Lorraine."

“Never was a baby, just a woman jealous that I had moved on.” He shakes his head. “I haven’t even dated since then.” You snort in disbelief and he nods. “I’m serious. I- fuck-“ he shuffles slightly in embarrassment. “I paid for sex when I needed it.”

Your eyes widen, "you paid for sex? You could've gotten sex for free every day night here." You chuckle and he shakes his head, "did it for intel on Escobar and for company, I guess." He shrugs and you smirk, "guessing you learned a few things down in Colombia?"

Javi smirks back at you and nods. “I have.” He admits. “Gave me a discount if I made them cum more than once.” He jokes.

"You must've gotten it nearly free." You playfully roll your eyes, remembering how good he was. "I've missed you. You look - you look like you've got the world on your shoulders." You observe, "not as carefree as I remember you."

“Colombia was tough.” He admits, shuffling slightly. “I’ve missed you too. A lot.” He had thought of you every day but figured that might be a little creepy. “You look good. Happy. You bought the place?”

“Yeah. Took some equity from my parent’s house to buy it when the old owner wanted to sell. I couldn’t imagine working anywhere else and I love it. It’s home for me.” You smile, glancing back at the diner. “I’m happy but not as happy as the time I spent with you.”

“Me neither.” Javi shuffles again and looks down at his feet before peering back at you. “I have no right to ask, and tell me to go to hell if you want, but how about I take you on a date?” He offers. “You might find I’m a miserable son of a bitch and the best thing I ever did for you was leave.” He shrugs. “And then you’ll at least get dinner out of it.”

You are shocked and bite your lip, uncertain of giving him a chance after how much he hurt you but you remember it wasn’t him, it was Lorraine. You nod, offering him a soft smile, “I’d like that. Just - just don’t hurt me again.” You plead softly, “you want to go get your food? It should be ready.”

“Only if you sit down with us?” He asks, smiling in relief that you are willing to give him another chance. Those two months were the best of his life and he still loves you now. Your memory helped him through some tough times and you didn’t even know it.

You nod, “okay.” You open the back door and Javier follows you inside. Adrian has the food ready so you grab it, carrying it over to the table, and Javier sits down, winking at you. You head over to grab a cup of coffee, “Adrian. You can take a break.” You tell the cook who grunts and eyes Javier through the window. You make your way back to the table with your cup of coffee and you take a seat next to Javier. Chucho’s eyes widen and you smile, flustered by the knowing look on the old man’s face.

“You apologize?” Chucho huffs and Javi rolls his eyes. “Yes, pa, I apologized. I have a lot to make up for.” He glances at you and smirks. “But I’ll grovel as long as I need to.”

You look at Chucho, “he has a lot of grovelling to do.” You tease and Chucho nods, “he absolutely does.” He raises his eyebrows at his son as he cuts up his food. After they eat, you clear the plates and Chucho goes to take out his wallet, “it’s on the house. Happy Thanksgiving.” You smile and Chucho shakes his head, “she’s always giving me free food.” He opens his wallet and pulls out some cash, “get yourself something nice or put it in the tip jar.” He says and it’s clear this is a routine the two of you have.

“How long are you going to be open for?” Javi asks after Chucho makes a comment about being out in the truck and leaving his son behind.

You glance at the clock, “not too much longer. I like to shut earlier on Thanksgiving nowadays.” You admit, “give Adrian time with his boyfriend and I was planning on having a bath.” You chuckle, “got myself some new bath bombs.”

Javi frowns for a moment before he understands. “Oh, those little fizzy things, right?” He asks, not having taken too many baths. He mainly sticks with showers. “That’s good. Hopefully you’ll be able to unwind.” He comments. “You still have the day after Thanksgiving off?” He asks. “Or does the boss work all the time?”

“I have Jean opening tomorrow so the boss has the day off. I was thinking about doing some Black Friday shopping. Unless someone else would like to do some groveling?” You hum, tilting your head at Javier.

He grins at you. “I think I should probably start, don’t you think?” He asks, shrugging slightly. “I can hold your bags if you want.”

“You hate shopping.” You remember and Javier chuckles, “exactly. Part of the grovelling process.” He winks and you smirk, looking at Chucho who is grinning. “Very well, Peña. Pick me up tomorrow at 10am. Bring your badge. I think it could come in handy in standoffs for the good stuff.” You wink and Javier snorts, “it’s a date.” You smile, “yeah. It’s a date.” You murmur softly, heart thumping again.

**** 

You hadn’t been lying when you said you wanted to go shopping. You’ve dragged him to every store in town, but Javi hasn’t complained. He’s let you shop and given you his opinion as you look through different items. The grin you throw at him occasionally tells him that you are testing him, but he just smiles back and offers to hold whatever bag you are carrying.

When you pull up outside your house, you turn towards Javier. He’s told you some things about Colombia during the day and you can see how haunted he is by his time there. You haven’t pushed but he’s not the Javier you knew, he’s deeper, darker, but there’s times where you see the funny, lighthearted Javier you loved and you know you’ve changed too. You still love him but now there’s more to love, no matter how dark those parts may be. You turn to look at him, “I think I need help taking all these bags into the house.” You hum, grabbing your purse.

“Of course.” He climbs out of the car and opens the back door. You’ve also got a ton of shit in the trunk, but he doesn’t complain as he starts to pile bags onto his arms. Hopefully he can get it all in two trips. Maybe three with that new coffee maker you bought at Belk.

You grab some bags and make your way to your front door, unlocking it, and you punch in your alarm code while Javier walks in behind you to place your bags down. You walk into the house to turn on the lights while Javier finishes his last trip for your things. He shuts your front door and you walk over to him, “thank you for doing that. Very good groveling.” You tease, placing your palms on his chest.

He huffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes at you. “At least you’re having fun with this.” He tells you. He licks his lips and his eyes slide down to your mouth before he looks up again. “You need me to do anything else for you?” He asks, voice dropping slightly.

You bite your lip, knowing you shouldn’t rush into anything but you’ve lost so much time with him thanks to Lorraine. He left to go fight the bad guys in Colombia and you can’t blame him for doing what he thought was best. “You could kiss me.” You murmur and he nods, leaning in to press his lips to yours.

Kissing you is like coming home. Javi groans as you soften against him, folding you up in his arms and deepening the kiss. Almost fearful of being rejected he takes his time and slowly slides his tongue against your lips to beg for entrance.

You eagerly open your mouth, your tongue sweeping against his and his groan vibrates against your lips. The kiss makes your heart flutter and you slide your hands to cup his cheeks, pressing yourself against him and you’re brought back to that first night you slept with Javi.

Kissing you know is just as addictive as it had been so long ago. Maybe more so because he knows exactly what he has. He curls you into him, eager to taste every bit of your mouth and overwhelm you both with the passion the is mounting.

​​You can tell he’s changed. His kiss is harsher, more desperate, and you can sense the turmoil behind it compared to the playfulness of so many years ago. You let him back you against your front door, your fingers working on the buttons of his shirt while he hardens against your thigh. You whine when he pulls back from your lips, kissing down your neck while his hands fumble with the button of your jeans. You moan when his fingers slide under the denim, finding your clit, and you manage to get his shirt open, trailing your hands along his chest.

He needs to pull away and ask if you are okay with this, if you want him, but he can’t. Too afraid of rejection right now as his fingers caress your folds and rub circles on your clit. He promised you he would grovel and he huffs to himself as he kisses down your chest and mouths at your breast over your shirt and bra, biting sharply before he’s sinking down to his knees in front of you.

You look down at him in surprise, shocked that he’s on his knees, working on pulling your jeans down. “What are you doing?” You ask breathlessly and he looks up at you, smirking, “I said I’d grovel on my knees.” You chuckle, nodding as you step out of your jeans and he hooks his fingers in your panties, dragging them down. “I’ve missed you.” You gasp when he leans in to kiss your thigh.

“Missed you too.” He groans. “Missed this pussy. Your taste.” He presses his nose to the thatch of hair between your thighs and inhales. “Your smell. You have the best fucking smell, baby. Missed your laugh. Your smile.” Everything that he lists is punctuated with kisses around your pelvis and thighs. “The way you would curl against me to sleep.” He looks up at you. “I wasn’t lying to you, I loved you. I still love you.” He promises. “I never stopped.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you look down at him. No one has ever compared to him and you know you'll always love him. You run your fingers through his hair, "me neither. Always loved you." You promise and he leans in to slide his tongue through your folds. "Fuck." You pant as he flicks over your clit, his hands grabbing your ass to tilt your hips. You lift your leg onto his shoulder and you whimper when he wraps his arm around your thigh, burying his face in your cunt.

He’s sloppy and eager, rushing to make you moan his name again. He has dreamed of that sound for years. Closing his eyes and humming as his tongue flicks over your clit again and moves lower to push inside your wet walls. Drowning in your essence happily as he grovels before you.

It's been so long since you were worshiped like this and you tilt your head against the door, closing your eyes. "Fuck, Peña. Missed that tongue. You've gotten better." You observe, loving how he laps at you and it doesn't take long to work you up. You're soon panting, chest heaving, and your thigh shakes when he sucks on your clit. "Oh fuck!" You yelp, stomach twisting as you fall apart on his tongue.

His hands grip your hips, keeping you in place as your knees threaten to buckle and he moans into your cunt. Working you through it with determination until you’re whimpering and then he’s pulling back with a satisfied grin. “Still tastes so good.” He praises, kissing your hip.

You drag him up from the floor, lowering your leg and you press your lips to his while you push his shirt off his shoulders. "Bed. Want you in my bed." You order, letting his shirt drop to the floor as you grab his hand and drag him to the same bedroom he knew those years ago.

He chuckles as he lets you take him wherever you want to go. “I want to be in your bed.” He promises, reaching out with his free hand and snagging your waist to drag you closer and pressing his lips to your again. Sliding his hands up your back to unclip your bra beneath your t-shirt.

You let him pull your shirt over your head after he breaks the kiss, dragging your bra down your arms, and you toss them to the floor as you stumble into your bedroom. "Fuck, you've gotten more handsome." You observe when he pushes you onto your bed and you bounce while he works on taking off his jeans as he kicks off his shoes.

​​“That’s you.” He huffs. “Prettier than the day I met you.” He kneels on the bed after he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it. “Fuck- I - I don’t have a condom.” He groans, eyes slipping closed. “I’ve been tested, but I-“

"I'm on the pill. I'm clean. I trust you. Please Jav. I need you." You know it's reckless but you want to feel him again. "If not, I have a condom." You add, wanting him to be comfortable and you bat his hand away to pump his cock.

“Fuck, you know I want to feel you.” He groans and rolls his hips into your firm grip. “Lay back and spread your legs, baby.” He begs. “Let me fuck you.”

You nod, spreading your legs, and he shuffles closer. When he notches himself at your pussy, your eyes flutter closed when he pushes into you. “Look at me.” He demands gruffly and you whimper, opening your eyes as he shifts to hover over you. You immediately cup his cheeks, bringing his mouth down to yours. You shouldn’t forgive him for breaking your heart but you need to. He was trying to do the right thing which was being with the mother of his child but you know he didn’t love her, he loved you.

Javi gives you everything in the kiss. Everything he has emotionally. Pouring himself into you as he slowly inches into your body. Sliding into your heat and feeling like he's come home again.

You caress his shoulders and down his back, loving how he feels. Your walls flutter around him as he stretches you out and you close your eyes, “love you, baby.” You murmur, feeling surrounded by him and you love how he starts to move. He feels more experienced and stronger but you don’t mind.

“Feel so good, so perfect.” He grunts, trying to keep from thrusting too deep or too hard so quickly. You probably haven’t had sex in a while and he doesn’t want to make even a second of this uncomfortable.

You can see how tense he is with the way he clenches his jaw and you want him to fuck you, to claim you. “Need more. Want you to make me yours.” You order, wrapping your legs around his waist.

Once you give him permission, Javi lets himself go. Snapping his hips harshly and filling you with hard strokes that gave him grunting as you clung to him. “Fuck, fuck.” He hisses. “Need this, need you.”

He takes your breath away as he thrusts into you like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. Your heels dig into his ass and your nails scratch down his back. “Javi!” You cry, watching his nose flare as he rocks into you. “I- shit - so close. Keep - just like that.”

He grunts, it’s all he can do right now as he rocks into you. Feeling like your walls gripping him is his salvation and losing himself in the soul searing pleasure.

Your walls flutter around him as you are pushed higher and higher. His lips press against your neck, shifting his body to kiss down and take your nipple into his mouth. It’s hot and he bites down, making you react immediately. You clamp down onto his cock, your moan of his name echoing in your room as you soak him.

It’s what he needed to feel. The hit clench of your walls around him, the slick drenching his cock. Javi groans your name, pushing deep as his thrusts falter and he starts to pulse inside you. Closing his eyes and your name becomes a prayer on his lips.

You kiss everywhere you can reach as he twitches inside you, painting your walls. He pants when he stills above you and you caress his back, your body buzzing with emotion. Tears sting in your eyes and you sniff, making him jerk his head up to look at you, “did I hurt you?” He asks immediately and you shake your head, “no. No. I’m just - I’m happy.” You murmur, “so happy that you’re here.” You confess and he kisses your lips, nudging his nose against yours before he kisses your forehead. “I’m not leaving.” He promises and you caress his cheek, closing your eyes. “I’m home, baby.” He vows. 

**** 

“Javi!” You call out, “can you get your Pa another beer?” You ask and Javier comes back from the kitchen to set a beer down on the table for his father and he sets your glass of wine down on the table. “Thanks babe.” You peck his lips when he leans in to kiss you and his head caresses the baby that you cradle. “How is he?” He asks and you smile, looking down at the baby. “Fed and ready for a nap with his daddy. Mama needs her wine. Good thing I have milk stored.” You chuckle and you adjust the baby in your arms to slide him into Javier’s arms so you can tuck your breast away. 

Chucho looks away to be polite and Javier carries the baby into his room, laying him down in his crib. He watches his son for a moment and caresses his cheek, grabbing the baby monitor. He walks back into the dining room and sets the monitor down, picking up his beer, “the food looks delicious, baby.” He says and you smile, “Javier did most of the work today. Adrian helped me prep. We split the cooking so he could take some home to his boyfriend.” You confess and Chucho hums, “it looks incredible, mija.” Javier raises his beer, “happy Thanksgiving.” He toasts and you clink your wine glass against his bottle and Chucho’s bottle. “To the day we met.” You toast back and Javier smiles, leaning over to kiss you softly. This Thanksgiving is very different from past ones. No longer hanging around a diner for a breakfast during his shift, this year he’s spending Thanksgiving with his Pa, his son, and his beautiful wife. He’s truly blessed.

[irisskies]

Work Wife - Masterlist

Masterlist

Summary: Working as a Secretary and Miller & Sons c”Construction, you fall hopelessly in love with the eldest son Joel. What you don’t realise is that Joel’s completely in love with you too. What will it take for the two of you to realise whats’s right in front of you?

Pairing: Young Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to give any so the plot isn’t spoiled. This fic is 18+

Got such an amazing reaction to this fix concept so its coming people ♥️

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[irisskies]

Sangria (javier peña x fem!reader)

18+ account - minors do not interact

javier peña x hotel managerf!reader

Word Count: 12k (she’s long, but please still read this…) 😅 Rating: E

Summary: Your friendship with Javier Peña over the years during the trenches of the Colombian drug war and his hunt for Pablo Escobar.

or simply…

'she fell first, he fell harder' kind of trope

Warning: friends to lovers, slow fucking burn, flirting, fluff, mutual pining (idiots in love), pet names (your javi’s ‘hermosa’) jealousy/insecurity, sexual tension, yearning, mentions of infidelity, lots of angst (im sorry), language, alcohol use, drunk javi, mentions of torture and sexual assault (violence against women), mentions of prostitution, violence (bombs and explosions), reader is injured, fucking softness, sexual innuendos, fade to black implied smut (rules are rules, this challenge requested no smut)

A/N: I joined the fandom for Javier and so I’m so scared to be writing for him since he’s a complex character very near and dear to my heart and I hope I did it justice. This is a story I’ve slowly been writing for months and have been too scared to post and decided to submit for @jolapeno & @goodwithcheese's fall challenge: Javi P + Bonfire and kill two birds with one stone. Thank you @morallyinept and @almostfoxglove for your kindness when I brain-dumped with you. To my biggest supporter @nicksolemnlyswears who I basically forced to watch Narcos and who beta’d the Spanish for me. Gracias, my wifey <3

xx

Fall 1989

The smell of smoke and roasted marshmallows hung thick in the air as laughter echoed around the bonfire as you nestled into a circle with your friends. You sat cross-legged on a weathered blanket, cradling a cup of what was possibly the world's worst Sangria.

As a gust of wind picked up, you leaned in closer, hoping to cut through the chill of the Colombian night. Just as you poured another splash of the overly fruity concoction, someone plopped down next to you, sending you jolting forward. The drink in your hand took flight, a cascade of red sloshing all over a man’s crisp white shirt.

“Lo siento mucho!” you exclaimed, your cheeks warming. I’m so sorry.

The man turned to face you, arching an eyebrow, his expression stuck between surprise and irritation. “Mierda,” he muttered, but there was a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Shit.

You quickly reached for napkins that were far from sufficient for the mess you’d made.

Without thinking you spoke in English; it was probably because you were already tipsy, and your Spanish always became worse the more you drank. “Here, let me help,” you insisted, dabbing at his shirt.

“I don’t know if you’re helping or just making it worse,” he teased. “But it’s not like I was planning on winning any fashion awards tonight.

An American accent. You felt less embarrassed now for using your English.

“Touché,” you conceded, glancing down at the damp fabric. “But, I think it looks better this way,” you teased.

And it really did look better this way because as you continued to dab at the damp fabric, your gaze inadvertently drifted upward, taking in the man who had just been the unfortunate recipient of your clumsiness. He had tousled dark hair and a mustache that gave him a slightly rugged yet charming appearance. A few strands of hair fell rebelliously across his forehead, accentuating his chiseled jawline and sharp cheekbones.

His tan skin seemed to glow against the backdrop of the night, but what truly caught your attention was the way the wet shirt clung to his torso, hinting at a well-defined physique. His shoulders were broad and strong, tapering down to a lean yet muscular build. You could see the lines of muscle beneath the fabric, and for a moment, you found it hard to concentrate on anything else.

You were acutely aware of your own heartbeat, quickening under the gaze of those deep-set, penetrating brown eyes. He watched your face, clearly amused at your lingering stare. Those eyes—intense, with a hint of something playful—seemed to pull you in, and an unexpected flutter rose in your chest.

After a moment, you tore your eyes away, cheeks burning, trying to regain your composure. “I wish I could say I’m usually graceful, but the universe has seen fit to deem me a walking disaster,” you joked, forcing a smile while feeling utterly flustered.

He chuckled. “Well, if I’m the casualty of your coordination tonight, I think I can live with it,” He waved his hand over his shirt, inspecting the damage.  “I’ve had worse—at least you didn’t drop the entire bowl on my lap,” he joked.

“So, what’s your name, ‘casualty’?” you asked the utterly fuckable man.

“Javier,” he replied, extending a hand “But you can call me Javi. And you?”

As you said your name, you felt the smoothness of his hand against yours and felt something. “Encantado de conocerte, Javi.” Nice to meet you, Javi

“¿Y ese acento, de donde es?” he asked you.  And that accent, where’s it from?

You quickly told him where you were from.

He leaned back slightly, his brow furrowing like he was trying to place your face. “I think I’ve seen you around. Are you friends with Rosa?”

You nodded, taken aback by his memory seeming to link to your small circle. “Yeah. She’s hosting this little shindig. You know her well?”

“Enough to crash a bonfire,” he replied, glancing toward the flickering flames. “I’m her neighbor,”

Suddenly, you could almost hear Rosa’s warning echoing in your mind. Javier. Her new American neighbor from Texas. You remember her telling you: Ese hombre es guapísimo. That man is ridiculously handsome.

She wasn’t fucking wrong.

The name clicked like a key turning in a lock, and suddenly the stories Rosa had shared bubbled to the surface. A man who was a certified flirt. Charm dripping all over the place. A notorious womanizer who worked for the DEA. Your stomach tightened.

“I see,” you replied softly.

“You know, Hermosa… we could steal away to a quieter spot, away from... all of this,” he continued, gesturing to the bustling bonfire.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. He was already trying to use a petname on you. Beautiful. Your hand instinctively tightened around your cup, rebelling against his effortless charm. “And what exactly do you think will happen in this quieter spot?”

He leaned in closer. “A chance to get to know the gorgeous girl who nearly branded me with Sangria.”

“Ah, here it comes,” you shook your head as you didn’t want to be just another conquest. You had dealt with enough assholes in Bogotá, you weren’t trying to deal with another one. “A smooth talker, huh?"

“Only when the moment calls for it,” he countered, leaning back, unabashed. "And this moment definitely calls for it.”

With a cheeky grin, he leaned closer as if he were sharing a secret “What do you say we skip the small talk and just get to the best part?”

You raised an eyebrow, slightly amused but mostly unfazed. “And what makes you think I’m interested in the best part?”

“Because I’m sitting here, drenched in your drink and still smiling,” he said, a glint of challenge in his eyes, “Clearly, I find you intriguing.”

“Or clearly, you’re just thirsty.” you smirked. “Look, I’m not looking for anything tonight—especially not with a guy who looks like he’s just walked off the set of a telenovela.”

He grinned, that playful smirk exposing a dimple in one cheek, and your breath caught momentarily as it deepened. “So, you’re saying I’m too pretty for my own good?”

“Pretty much,” you replied, feigning a serious tone. “So, I’ll stick with my less complicated plans for tonight.”

“Less complicated, huh?” He leaned back on his hands, feigning deep thought. He was watching the flames dance, a slight scowl on his lips. He lit a cigarette, the flame briefly illuminating his face before he took a long drag and released the smoke into the night air.

You found your gaze fixated on the way he handled the cigarette with a certain nonchalance. He raised it to his lips, and part of you knew it was an unhealthy habit, but the sight of him—those strong fingers capturing the cigarette, in his relaxed demeanor—was sexy.

He noticed your gaze, as he puffed the smoke slowly. “Want one?” he asked, holding the pack of cigarettes out toward you with a casual flick of his wrist.

You shook your head, your lips curving into a playful grin. “No thanks, those cancer sticks will definitely kill you,” you teased, watching as he took another slow drag.

“Oh please,” he chuckled, rolling his eyes. “These will kill me? Trust me, my job will kill me first. I think I’ll take my chances with the nicotine.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, despite the mention of something more serious nestled in his joke. You turned your attention back to the fire, unaware that this meeting would kickstart your friendship with Javier Peña.

Spring 1990

Javier glanced at the clock on his dashboard as he maneuvered through the streets. It was ten past seven, and he was already late for his self-imposed “Twin Peaks” night with you. Damn. He’d gotten caught up at work, chasing down leads on a particularly slippery cartel operative. Adjusting his tie, the polished fabric stark against the chaos of his life, he took a deep breath and lit a cigarette, the smoke mingling with the cool night air.

Once he finished, he flicked the cigarette out of the window, watching it tumble away into the darkness outside your apartment complex. Even though you had never explicitly said anything about his smoking since the first night he met you, he knew deep down that you hated it. Out of respect, he always made sure not to light one up inside your apartment.

With one last check of his reflection in the rearview mirror, he strode up to your apartment complex, a skip in his step fueled by the thought of seeing you. He could already envision you sprawled out on the couch, snacks at hand, ready for another oddball episode of your new favorite show. The way you lit up over the strange yet addictive plotline always amused him, and he loved indulging your quirks—especially since you were, in his opinion, one of the most captivating people he’d met in Bogotá.

The weight of his job slung over his shoulders. Each day, Javier walked a tightrope between duty and the horrors that came with it—informants who didn't show up, leads that led nowhere, threats that loomed close. It was exhausting, and the burden of the violent realities he had seen rested heavily on him. But you were his escape.

He thought back to that night at the bonfire—the first time he met you all because of an accidental splash of Sangria. He remembered the ease with which you had brushed off his flirtations, never letting it sway you the way it did for so many other women. It was refreshing.

You were both foreigners navigating life in Bogotá and you had talked about your time in hospitality school and your path to getting a job opportunity managing the Sofitel Bogotá Victoria Regia which was one of the most luxurious hotels in Colombia, while he recounted the oddities of undercover work and the horrors he’d seen.

He entered your building and climbed the stairs and knocked on your door. But when you opened the door, the sight that met him was anything but what he expected. The light from the living room cast a soft glow around you, but it did little to disguise the tears tracing down your cheeks. He frowned, immediately concerned.

“Hey, ¿qué pasó?” he asked, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. Hey, what happened?

You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, attempting a weak smile. “It’s nothing, really. Just… I found out that the guy I was seeing is fucking someone else,”

Javier’s heart sank. He had to suppress an instinctual urge to charge through the streets hunting down whoever had dared to hurt you.

“Puto malparido,” He shook his head, eyes narrowing with displeasure. Son of a bitch.

“It’s fine,” you said, your voice wavering but trying to convey a sense of indifference. “I should’ve known better than to get involved with someone who thinks wearing socks with sandals is okay,” you sniffed, managing a small laugh despite the tears. “Honestly, if his wardrobe choices are anything to go by, I should have seen this bullshit coming from a mile away.”

Javier couldn't help but chuckle lightly at your humor, even though he hated seeing you so sad. “Look at it this way, at least now you don’t have to pretend to enjoy his fucking cooking,” he replied, his expression softening as he stepped closer, his gaze searching yours for every flicker of emotion.

You let out a genuine laugh. “I never did understand how he thought putting pineapple on a steak was a good idea. What the fuck was that?"

Javier felt a flicker of relief at the way you grasped for humor. You always did, it was what made you… you.

You crossed your arms defensively, trying to mask the vulnerability that had slipped through with your tears, and started navigating yourself into the kitchen to grab drinks. “I saved you the good stuff,” you said as you returned to the living room with some whiskey.

As you collapsed onto the couch, you reached for the remote, and the anticipation of another episode filled the air. Javier's heart swelled at this little ritual; this was his safe space.

He took a seat beside you, still dressed in that fitted DEA suit, the navy-blue fabric now slightly rumpled, the cushions sinking under his weight, and grabbed the drink you handed him.

“Seriously, don’t let that fucking asshole get to you,” he said, trying to keep his tone light despite the heavy weight of concern settling in his chest. “You deserve better, Hermosa.”

You glanced at him. “I know. I just…” You sighed, shaking your head. “I just thought he was different, but I was wrong. I just feel so stupid,” you confessed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, a nervous habit of yours when you were emotional.

How could this fucking idiot you had been dating not see the incredible woman that you were? You were radiant, even in this moment of vulnerability. Your hair, often styled with effortless perfection, was falling slightly out of place, giving you a natural beauty he found utterly captivating. The way the light caught the curve of your cheek when you turned your head made him wish he could capture that moment forever.

With a smirk, Javier quipped, “If he's the worst decision you’ve made, I’d say you’re doing just fine. Seriously, don’t beat yourself up over it,” Javier replied softly. He paused, his mind racing with thoughts not entirely appropriate for the moment, but he couldn’t help it. The thought of you with someone else gnawed at him, despite the circumstances.

You gave a slight nod and looked down for a moment. “Thanks, Javi. That means a lot.”

“Anytime,” he said, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb. The gesture shocked him, but he couldn’t help himself. You needed comfort, and he was there, ready and willing to provide it.

“And what’s crazy is I’m crying over this guy… but… you know, I was just so caught up in the moment with him that I just tried to convince myself it was good,” you said, sipping your drink. “But honestly? It wasn’t,”

He thought you were talking about the relationship but then you surprised him with your next statement.

You took a sip of your whiskey, a frown playing on your lips. “Let’s just say, if there’s a guidebook for how to be awful in bed, he must’ve had it memorized. It was like a poorly choreographed dance. You just… you could tell he thought he was doing the right moves, but his rhythm was off.”

Javier raised an eyebrow, a cheeky grin threatening to spill across his face.

“Oh, my fucking god, I can’t believe I just said that,” you whined, as you buried your face in your hands, an adorable blend of exasperation and embarrassment washed over you. Javier couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight.

“Damn, you really are a lightweight, aren’t you?” he teased, leaning back on the couch and taking a sip of his whiskey, struggling to stifle his laughter.

A muffled sound escaped your hands. “You’re right. I’m clearly already drunk,” you said between muffled giggles.

You lowered your hands from your face, clearly still embarrassed but Javier thought you looked beautiful.

"Honestly," you said biting your bottom lip, glancing sideways at him, "I think all I really need right now is... some quality time alone. You know, taking care of myself.”

You wiggled your eyebrows with a teasing smirk, the implication hanging in the air like a delicious secret. The corners of Javier's mouth twitched, and for a moment, he was taken aback, his eyes widening in surprise, and he suddenly felt the heat creeping up his neck.

“I mean, who needs a guy when a girl can have a good time all by herself, right?” you finished, wrapping up your drink.

Javier chuckled nervously, the grin plastered on his face revealing that he was trying to keep his composure. "Oh, is that so?" he replied, raising an eyebrow, but there was a flustered edge to his voice.

He shifted on the couch and was going to say more and then you shrieked, “Oh fuck, it’s starting, let me bring the popcorn,”

You quickly hopped off the couch, rushing into the kitchen, leaving Javier in a state of amused bewilderment. He leaned back, taking a moment to collect himself and stop imagining what you had just said.

The theme song for "Twin Peaks" began to play, and your excited voice echoed as you returned, popcorn spilling from the large bowl you held.

As the opening credits rolled, part of him still remained alert, scrutinizing the world outside your window like a soldier on edge. The relentless pursuit of Escobar loomed large in his mind, a massive shadow that seemed to darken every corner of his life. The pressure from his superiors at the DEA had ramped up recently, each briefing filled with urgency and frustration. Despite his considerable experience and dedication, Javier couldn’t shake the feeling that they were getting nowhere, that every lead they followed slipped through their fingers like sand.

“Are you okay gruñon?” you asked, that genuine softness forming your voice. Grumpy man.

He smiled, attempting to mask the turmoil within. “Yeah,”

You studied him for a moment, the look on your face suggesting you could sense his internal battle. You leaned in, a gentle touch on his arm, grounding him in reality. “Javi, you can talk to me, you know.”

How he wished he could—how he wished he could be honest about the nightmares, the pressure, the fear that gripped him when he thought of the lives at stake. But saying it out loud meant inviting you into a darkness where he feared you wouldn’t want to wander.

He was on a dangerous journey, one that required him to be tough, and emotionally detached. He’d seen too much, lost too many, and he knew better than to let anyone in.

“Right now, I just want to enjoy this,” he said feigning nonchalance. “What do you think of Agent Cooper?” he asked pointing at your television instead.

You chuckled lightly, obviously sensing his attempt to shift the focus. “He’s a bit intense, don’t you think? But I like his style. Always gets things done his way.”

“Yeah, but at what cost?” Javi replied, his voice laced with an underlying tension. “Sometimes it feels like he’s more interested in the outcome than the people involved.”

You nodded thoughtfully, the weight of his words not lost on you. “True, but I think that’s part of the appeal. He’s driven by something deeper—like he’s reaching for a bigger purpose.”

“Or maybe he’s just running from his own demons,” Javi murmured, his gaze drifting back outside. The shadows were lengthening, and he felt the familiar tightening in his chest.

“¿Seguro que estás bien?" you asked again, concern etched in your features. Are you sure you’re okay?

Your accent was a delightful blend of your own roots and your newly adopted Colombian home. Whenever you spoke, your words often carried a melodic cadence, peppered with slight mispronunciations that made you sound both endearing and approachable. You told Javi you felt self-conscious about your Spanish, but he always thought you sounded absolutely adorable. And it wasn’t just him, all the guests at your hotel loved you. Everyone just fucking loved you. How could they not?

He turned back to you, his lips twisting into a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m not… but I will be, Hermosa,” he admitted finally.

Your expression softened further, and he could see the questions behind your kind eyes—but you let it go, allowing him the space to decide how deep the conversation would go. He appreciated that you weren’t pushing it.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand. He turned his palm upward, fingers intertwining gently with yours, and squeezed, a subtle reassurance that spoke volumes without the need for words. It was a simple gesture—nothing extravagant or overly sentimental—but in it, he communicated a thank you, and quickly pulled his hand away.

For now, he was content to just let the world fade into the background as he enjoyed these simple moments with you.

Summer 1991

As the warmth of the sun streamed through your kitchen window, you were busy preparing lunch for your usual Sunday get-together with Connie. Javier had gotten a new partner named Steve Murphy to help with the hunt for Escobar and his wife, Connie, had also moved to Colombia to join him. The aroma of garlic and herbs filled the air, mingling effortlessly with the early afternoon light that reflected off the tiled countertops. Connie was your confidante, someone who understood the complexities of navigating a foreign city and she would vent to you about the unique challenges that came with being married to a DEA agent. Over the past few months, a solid friendship had blossomed between the two of you, often sprinkled with laughter, shared meals, and details about your lives that built a comforting bond in the tumultuous backdrop of Colombian drug wars.

Connie leaned against the counter, her brow slightly furrowed, a hint of concern dancing across her features. “I just came from home where Steve mentioned something about Javi,”

Your heart sank. You knew all too well the toll that Javier's work, mixed with the intense emotional strain of the cases he dealt with, could take on him. “What’s going on?” you asked, concern lacing your tone.

Connie hesitated for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “Look, I don’t want to say too much without Steve’s permission, but he told me that Javier has been involved with this informant named Helena. Steve said… she’s had a really rough time lately.”

“Rough time?” you echoed, feeling a chill creep into your bones.

“Yeah, it turns out she was tortured and raped by Gacha’s men during an interrogation,” Connie continued, her voice lowering as if the very words weighed her down. “Steve said Javi is seriously torn up about it. Apparently, he keeps replaying the details in his head… the things she went through. He feels like he could’ve done something more. He feels like what happened to her is his fault.”

You frowned, trying to process what you were hearing. You thought back to all the late-night conversations you’d had with Javier—the way he spoke openly about his wish to protect the innocent, his anger at the way women were often used as pawns in the drug trade. It didn’t surprise you that he would want to be there for Helena, yet the thought of him getting too close made you restless.

As you mixed the pasta in the pot, the steam rising from the boiling water mirrored your thoughts. Javier had always been charming, always had a way with women. It was part of what drew you to him, that magnetic energy that could light up a room. When you first met him, you felt that irresistible pull. However, his frequent flings—those short-lived romances that seemed to sprout up like weeds now and then—had always left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You had always felt a gap between you and the women Javier usually gravitated toward—they exuded a magnetic confidence, and they were gorgeous – something that you just felt you weren’t. Their clothes were always daring and playful, each outfit meticulously designed to highlight their best features and leaving little to the imagination. They were the kind of women that made heads turn—not just because of their incredible looks, but because of the confidence with which they carried themselves. They reveled in the attention captivating everyone around them, including Javier. You couldn’t shake the notion that these stunning women with their incredible physiques and sexy personalities were a glaring contrast to your own sense of self.

You watched him juggle one woman after another, often with an easy nonchalance that made it difficult for you to take him seriously. Yet, Helena was different. She had slipped into his life quietly, weaving through the chaos of his job, and somehow managed to find a consistent place in his bed. He had told you about her, but he had left out the part about her being an escort and informant… and now you knew why.

Could it be that he had developed real feelings for her? It was a creeping sensation of jealousy that you couldn’t quite shake off.

“Do you think Javi is in love with her?” you asked, the question slipping from your lips before you could think to filter it. Connie’s glance told you the answer. The way she dropped her gaze, and the hesitation before she spoke— pointed to him having deep feelings for his informant.

“Would it matter if he was?”

The question hung in the air, and you felt a rush of conflicting emotions collide in your chest.

Would it matter?

The phone rang sharply, thankfully saving you from having to answer her. You glanced at Connie, who raised an eyebrow as you answered the call, recognizing the familiar voice. It was your favorite bartender from your go-to bar.

“Hey, it’s Carlos. You need to come now. Javi’s here, and he’s had a bit too much to drink,” he said, the worry in his tone unmistakable. “I thought he’d be fine, but he’s talking nonsense and it’s, uh—well, it’s not pretty.”

You glanced at the clock—it was just past 2 o’clock in the afternoon. Something bad was happening if he was already fucked up this early in the day.  

“Is he okay?” you asked, already slipping on your shoes and grabbing your keys from the countertop.

“Creo que solo necesita un amigo que lo lleve a casa,” Carlos admitted, the faint sounds of a bar bustling in the background. I think he just needs a friend to get him home

“Estoy en camino,” you assured him, adrenaline spiking. I’m on my way.

You turned to Connie, who was watching you intently, and waved you off to leave when she realized it was about Javi.

The drive to the bar felt like an eternity, the streets slipping by in a blur of vibrant colors and the urgency of your thoughts.

When you finally arrived, the bar was dimly lit, with laughter and music layering the atmosphere. You spotted Carlos behind the bar, pouring drinks while stealing glances toward a rather loud corner of the establishment.

“Over there,” Carlos gestured discreetly.

You made your way over, and your heart dropped at the sight of Javier. He was at the back hunched over the bar, a half-empty glass cradled in one hand and a cigarette smoking in the other. His dark hair fell in disarray over his forehead, and his usually bright eyes looked weary as he took a long drag.  His dark hair fell in disarray over his forehead, and his usually bright eyes looked far too weary.

“Hey,” you said, gently placing a hand on Javi's shoulder. He looked up, blinking slowly as if trying to focus.

"Hey, Hermosa," he mumbled, his voice thick with alcohol and smoke.

You knelt beside him, matching his eye level. “You look like you could use some water,” you replied softly, glancing at the cigarette between his fingers.

Javier let out a hollow laugh, bitter and self-deprecating, before tossing the cigarette into a nearby ashtray. He swayed slightly, and you instinctively grabbed his arm to steady him. “Come on, Javi. Let’s get you home.” You wrapped one of his arms around your shoulder as you began the slow journey out of the bar.

Once you reached your car, you gently helped him into the passenger seat. The ride home was quiet, filled with the hum of the engine and Javier’s heavy breathing. You glanced over to see him staring vacantly out of the window, lost in thoughts only he could understand. Each moment of silence was deafening, punctuated only by the occasional hitch in his breath.

When you finally pulled up to his apartment, you helped him out of the car, feeling the weight of his body against you as you guided him to the front door.

“Dame la llave,” you requested. Give me the key.

With effort, you managed to get Javier through the door once he handed you his key and you got him into the familiar space of his apartment. The dim light illuminated the mess he often left when he was deep into work—files scattered on the coffee table, clothes draped across chairs, and the faint scent of cologne lingering in the air. You walked him towards his bedroom, shifting his weight as he leaned against you for support.

Once inside, you guided him to the edge of his bed. “Sit,” you instructed softly, and he complied, sinking onto the edge with a barely-there sigh. You stepped back for a moment to assess him. There was a part of you that wanted to scream, to shake him and demand he talk to you, but now was not the right time.

You moved closer again, kneeling beside him, and started to unbutton his shirt. The fabric slid away easily, revealing his sculpted chest. As the shirt fell to the floor, you avoided making eye contact, focused instead on the task at hand.

“Hold still,” you murmured as you began to remove his belt. He swayed slightly, but you steadied him, your hands brushing against his skin. As the belt slipped through the loops and dropped with a faint thud.

“Controladora,” he said looking at you with a mix of confusion and trust, as if he knew you were here to take care of him, to ensure he wasn’t alone. Controlling woman.   

Next, you started on his pants, gently working to slide them down over his hips. He lifted his feet when prompted, and you eased them off him, leaving him in just his boxers.

Once he was settled in his boxers, you pulled a light blanket over him, tucking it around his waist. You brushed a hand through his hair, trying to offer some comfort.

“Go to sleep, Javi,” you whispered softly.

You fetched him a glass of water to help with the hangover that was sure to come. He accepted it absently, staring blankly at a point beyond you. When you sat beside him, a comfortable but tense silence settled around the two of you.

“Javi,” you eventually said, “I’m going to head home. Get some rest.”

His eyes flickered back to you, momentarily clouded by the haze of alcohol and exhaustion. The moment hung thick in the air, and you noticed the way his brow furrowed with unease. “No… don’t go,” he replied, his voice cracking slightly. “Te puedes quedar,” You can stay.

Your heart ached at the sound. “It’s okay,” you assured him, your hand instinctively reaching out to squeeze his reassuringly. “I don’t want to be in the way. You need to sleep.”

But the panic in his eyes deepened. “Please,” he murmured, his voice rasping out the word like a plea. “I… I need you to stay. I don’t want to be alone right now.”

Caught off guard, you felt your stomach twist with conflicting emotions.

“Please,” he repeated, a note of desperation in his tone, “I need you, Hermosa. Just promise you’ll stay.”

A lump formed in your throat. “Okay, I’ll stay,” you finally said, deciding to stay a little longer to ease his anxiety, at least until he nestled into a deeper sleep.

Time passed slowly, the room filled with the soft sound of his breathing, which grew heavier as he inched closer to sleep. As he began to drift, his expression relaxed, but the words that escaped his lips caught you off guard.

“I should have done more. I was supposed to protect her, but…” he murmured. “I failed.”

He shifted slightly, the unmistakable signs of sleep tugging at him.

You leaned in closer, brushing the hair from his forehead, careful not to disturb the sleep that was creeping up on him.

“I’m here,” you whispered. “You didn’t fail, Javi. You did everything that you could. You did your best.” you continued, knowing he might not hear you, but hoping that the sentiment would linger in his subconscious.

Fall 1992

The hum of the office felt suffocating, a growing weight pressing down on Javier as he sat at his desk, a half-burnt cigarette dangling from his lips. The smoke curled lazily around him, mixing with the chaos of paperwork that buried him. His usually sharp focus was dulled, his mind wandering dangerously, trapped in thoughts of you and the oppressive silence that had stretched between you for three long weeks. He had never gone this long without seeing or speaking to you since he had met you all those years ago—maybe a week at most, if duty called him away. Steve sat across from him, flipping through files, oblivious to the turmoil brewing inside Javier.

“Earth to Peña,” Steve finally said, breaking through the haze. “You with me?” There was humor in his tone, but Javier couldn’t muster a smile in response.

“Yeah, just—thinking about the Medellín briefing,” he replied, forcing an edge of normalcy into his voice as he took a drag from the cigarette, the smoke filling his lungs but doing little to ease the tightness in his chest.

The silence between you both had grown, and he hadn’t even realized the length of time that had passed until the loneliness settled like a thick fog in his chest.

He could still see the scene from a few weeks ago—the moment when Carillo had pulled the trigger, killing a kid without a second thought. It had sent shockwaves through him. Overwhelmed by his own rage and despair, he'd sought solace in the arms of Gabriela that night, burying himself and his sadness inside of her.

But the act only left him feeling emptier; it didn’t erase the darkness flickering at the edges of his mind. As she had left his apartment, he couldn't shake the guilt that followed. Javier knew he wasn’t being fair to himself, as he didn’t truly care for Gabriela the way he cared for you. But at the end of the day, Javi was a man with needs and sometimes he turned to hook-ups. It was just sex without the weight of expectation. Gabriela had been a distraction, a quick relief from the chaos of his current existence.

“Hey, man,” Steve’s voice broke through once again, shaking him further from his thoughts. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he replied, though his voice lacked conviction. All he could think about was the anger you had directed at him, how you had stormed out of his apartment after he treated you like a fucking asshole. His memory drifted toward that horrible confrontation, and he felt his gut twist uncomfortably.

The air in Javier's apartment was thick with tension, the silence between you two so loud it felt suffocating. You had tried to reach out, to pull him back from whatever dark place he’d retreated to, but every attempt seemed to push him further away.

“Javi, please, just talk to me,” you pleaded, your voice trembling slightly. "You’ve been off for weeks now, and I’m really worried about you.”

He snapped back, “What makes you think it’s any of your business?”

“Maybe it’s not,” you replied, feeling defiant. “But you seem to be walking around with this gigantic weight on your shoulders, and I’ve got two ears—perfect for listening.”

He scoffed, the sound sharp and dismissive. “You’re being fucking annoying, you know that?” he shot back, frustration spilling over as he dropped his cigarette into an ashtray. “Stop trying to play therapist. I don’t want to fucking talk.”

You recoiled at his words, hurt flashing across your face. “So, what, you’d rather shut me out completely?” you fired back.

“Why do you care? You’re not my fucking girlfriend,” he snapped, his voice rising.

“Maybe I care because I can’t just stand by and watch my friend self-destruct,” you said softly, trying to regain your composure.

He noticed you didn’t respond to the other part, and he hated himself for wondering why. Why hadn't you reacted to that statement? Surely, it deserved some kind of response or fucking acknowledgment. Here you were seemingly unbothered by the title he had carelessly dismissed you with. Or perhaps you were bothered, but you just hadn't said anything.

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’m just fine.” he finally said.

“Fine? You call this fine?” you shot back, your voice breaking. “You’re sleeping with prostitutes left and right, and you can’t even have a conversation with me? You can’t bring me into your life, but you can bring random women into your bed?”

Your accusation stung, and he flinched, the bitterness pooling in his gut. “I can get more out of a quick fuck than I can from hearing you fucking nag and nag and nag,” he spat out, letting the cruel edge of his words slice deeply. He didn’t want the look on your face to affect him, but it did. Tears he didn’t want to see formed in your eyes, a sight that twisted something inside of him.

“Is that what I am to you?” you asked, voice breaking under the weight of his words. “Just a nag?”

Javier faltered momentarily. But he couldn’t let it show. The life he led, the choices he made, they were sharp and dangerous. In his line of work, a romantic partner was a target. They became leverage, a vulnerability to be exploited. The stakes would never be just his; they’d be yours too, and he couldn’t bear the thought of you ever being dragged into his world.

He took a shaky breath, willing himself to remain unreachable, but the pain swirling in your eyes were weighing him down.

Tears flowed freely from you now, and he watched, helplessly, as you wiped at your cheeks with frustration, trying to hold onto something—your composure, perhaps. “I can’t do this,” you finally managed, your voice wavering as you stood up. “I can’t watch this job kill you anymore,”

Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked out of his apartment, his heart aching with each step you took. The door clicked shut behind you, a finality that echoed in the silence of his apartment.

The truth was, he’d always known why he never hit on you again after meeting you at the bonfire all those years ago. He respected you too much and his life was too chaotic for a relationship. Being away so much for work left him with little time to nurture a genuine relationship with anybody. He thought of all the moments he had held back with you, the conversations left hanging in the air, the glances that lingered just a beat too long. He wanted to reach out, to pull you into a world where you could be safe, but his every instinct screamed against it. Because right now… it wasn’t safe.

He knew you deserved more than what he could offer. Javier couldn’t shake the feeling that he was tainted somehow. He wasn’t good enough for you. He wasn’t a good man. So, Javier locked away his desire and pushed you away, hoping that by doing so, he was protecting you from the very man he feared he was.

Javier's mind was suddenly yanked back to the present by the shrill sound of the office TV blaring to life. Steve had picked up the remote, flicking through channels until he found a live broadcast from a major news station that was translating into English.

“Man, check this out,” Steve said, his nonchalant tone tinged with concern as he gestured toward the screen.

Javier reluctantly turned his attention away from his paperwork and blinked at the images unfolding before him. The screen displayed a chaotic scene, thick clouds of smoke billowing against the backdrop of a once-elegant structure—your hotel, the Sofitel Bogotá Victoria Regia. A massive explosion had ripped through the façade, leaving a gaping hole where windows had been, glass fragments scattered like confetti across the cobblestone street below. Emergency sirens wailed, blending into the shouts of frantic onlookers gathered outside.

“Fuck,” Steve muttered, but Javier barely heard him. His heart plummeted into his stomach at the sight of the devastation.

“Shit,” Javier whispered, his voice barely audible as dread crept into his veins like poison. He leaned in closer to the screen, eyes darting across the chaos.

The news anchor appeared on screen, a somber expression etched across her face as she reported, “We have breaking news from Bogotá, where an explosion has rocked the Sofitel, one of the city’s premier hotels. Authorities have confirmed that there are numerous casualties, with emergency responders still assessing the situation.”

Javier's blood ran cold. Anxiety morphed into panic as he thought about the last conversation you had had, the argument that still hung heavily in his mind.

The anchor continued, voice urgent and steady, “Witnesses report seeing several injured individuals being carried away from the scene. Eyewitness accounts suggest that an explosive device was planted in the restaurant area—”

“No! No!” Javier urged under his breath, shaking his head violently as snippets of doubt looped through his mind. Images of you laughing, preparing meals, dancing, making fun of him, or sprawled out on the couch watching Twin Peaks flashed before him, and each image just heightened the fear gripping his heart.

Steve turned to him, concern flooding his features. “Is she working today or is it her day —”

“Not fucking now, Steve. I have to go,” Javier cut him off, standing abruptly, chair scraping against the floor in his haste. The controlled chaos around him faded into nothingness as he stormed out of the office, the weight of dread perched heavily on his chest.

As he rushed down the street, his mind raced through every possible scenario—what if you were there? What if you had been hurt in the explosion? Each thought pulled like a taut string, the fear threatening to erupt within him.

“Damn it!” he muttered under his breath, weaving through traffic and ignoring the blaring horns that erupted around him. The heavy thud of his heartbeat drowned out everything else.

When he arrived at the hotel, it was chaos. Yellow tape lined the perimeter, and a throng of reporters had gathered, jostling for position as the sharp wails of ambulances echoed through the air. He found your boss Luis among the first responders, and a sinking feeling rooted in his stomach as his eyes scanned the devastation, searching for a familiar face.

“Luis!” Javier called out, drawing his attention. Luis hastily approached, eyes wide.

“¿Qué pasó? ¿Hay alguien—?” Javier cut himself off. What happened? Is anyone—

“Hay heridos… todavía están tratando de sacar a la gente. Es un desastre,” Luis explained, glancing nervously at the scene behind him. There are casualties… they're still trying to get people out. It's a mess.

“¿Dónde está todo el mundo? ¿Dónde está el personal? ¿Qué pasa con—?” Javier interrupted too scared to say your name, feeling the fear mount within him as he moved past Luis, toward the officials trying to make sense of the situation. Where’s everyone? Where are the staff? What about—

“No se. Estoy tratando de obtener información, pero es—” Luis began but Javier was already pushing through the crowds, desperate for any sign of you. I don’t know. I’m trying to get information, but it’s—

In that moment, he felt a crack within him splinter deeper; the thought of you being taken from him… he couldn’t imagine it. He wouldn’t survive it. Each second felt like an eternity as he navigated through chaos, exchanging frantic glances with paramedics and officials alike, searching for any shred of reassurance in their eyes.

“Javi!” Luis called out, but Javier was already losing him in the crowd. He had to find you. He had to know you were alright. As the scene unfolded around him—lights flashing, the distant sound of sirens despair etched into the air—his only focus was on you.

The chaos around him faded into a blur of noise and movement as Javier pushed forward, his heart racing with dread. The scent of smoke mingled with sweat and fear, thickening the air. Hordes of people buzzed about him like bees in a hive, each absorbed in their own mission to make sense of the horror that had erupted at the Sofitel.

And then, as his eyes scanned the chaos, he saw you.

His breath caught in his throat. You were on the ground, being attended to by a paramedic. Blood was trickling from a cut on your forehead, and bruises marred your cheek, swelling already starting to form around your left eye.

He shouted your name, his voice rising as he surged forward, weaving through the crowd of onlookers and emergency personnel.

You turned your head slightly at the sound of his voice, your eyes widening in recognition. They glistened with unshed tears, and the moment your gaze locked onto his, his heart sank further.

“Javi!” you cried, voice trembling as fresh tears streamed down your cheeks. The paramedic moved to stabilize you, gently urging you to stay still amid the chaos, but determination spurred Javier on, and all he could think about was reaching you, holding you tightly to assure himself that you were real and alive.

The moment he reached your side, the world around him melted away. He dropped to one knee, his hands trembling slightly as he cradled your face, his thumbs brushing against the wetness of your tears, mingling with the blood.

“¡Está bien! It’s okay. I’m here, Hermosa,” he whispered, his voice low and urgent, trying his best to comfort you despite his own rising fear. “You’re going to be okay.”

The paramedic, a young man with a tight jaw and focused demeanor, looked at Javier, assessing the situation. “Está estable, pero necesita ser evaluada más a fondo en el hospital,” he said, keeping his voice even. She’s stable, but she needs to be checked out further, at the hospital

“Javi,” you murmured, your voice trembling as your hands grasped weakly at his shirt, clinging to him “I thought—I thought I was going to fucking die.”

His heart shattered at the fear that trembled in your voice. He wrapped his arms around you, careful of the injuries, and pulled you close against his chest, feeling your warmth seep through the messiness of the moment. “I’ve got you,” he vowed, lips brushing the top of your head. “I’m not going anywhere. Just hold on—”

You groaned quietly, shifting against him. “It hurts,” you whispered, and he nodded, knowing the pain was more than just physical.

“I know it does. Just breathe, alright? Breathe with me,” he murmured, guiding you as he took a deep breath in, then out. “Focus on my voice. I’m right here.”

Javier felt the paramedic’s gentle but firm hands on your shoulder, urging you to sit back for a moment, while he attempted to clean your wounds. The paramedic’s voice was calm, his focus entirely on you as he worked.

“Javi…” you whispered again, desperation creeping into your voice. “Por favor, no me dejes.” Please don’t leave me.

“I’m not going anywhere, Hermosa,” he promised, pulling back just a fraction so that he could see your face. “I’m right here, and I’m not leaving without you. Not ever.”

“I’m so fucking scared…” you admitted, tears streaming freely down your bruised cheeks, shaking as he brushed a thumb over the cut on your forehead.

“I know, but you’re safe now. I won't let anything happen to you. I've got you,” he reassured, feeling the weight of each second pressing against his chest.

The paramedic finished wrapping a bandage around your forehead delicately, and while he was still kneeling beside you, Javier drew in a steadying breath. “They need to take you to the hospital,” he said gently, casting a worried glance toward the paramedic.

You nodded. “Will you come with me?” you asked softly, fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt tighter.

“No te dejaré,” he promised. I won’t leave you.

As they began to lift you onto the stretcher, Javier pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there as if that one touch could shield you from this fucking bad day.

As they wheeled you away, anger coursed through him, fueled by the thought of you being hurt because of the chaos and violence surrounding Colombia. It was all his fault because they hadn’t fucking caught that fucking narco-terrorist yet. He knew that he would kill Pablo Escobar himself if he had the chance to be face-to-face with him.

Fuck protocol, he thought, because that motherfucker had fucked with the one thing that Javier cared the most about in the entire world.

Winter 1993

The cold splash of the New York winter air sent a shiver down your spine as you stood by your apartment window, staring out at the fast-paced city life below. It felt surreal, watching pedestrians shuffle along the street, their breath visible in the chilled air, while your mind was half a world away.

After the explosion, you’d been taken to the hospital for your injuries. It was there that Javier had made sure to stay by your side, he apologized about the fight, anxiety etched in every line of his face as he begged for your forgiveness. You apologized too and told him not to worry about it – but he didn’t accept your apology and told you that you had done nothing wrong. The moment he left the hospital was the moment you felt the tension in the air shift. You wouldn't be staying in Bogotá. You were transferred to another Sofitel property in the United States. You didn’t want to leave, but your parents and siblings begged you to leave Colombia. And you didn’t blame them.

Saying goodbye to all of your friends, staff, Steve, Connie, and especially Javi was probably the hardest thing you ever had to do in your entire life.

You could still vividly recall the day you packed your bags, the way he stood in your doorway, sadness radiating from his form. Packing your belongings had felt like a surreal blur, the reality that you were leaving hitting you hard.

You reached for the remote, and switched on the TV. The familiar faces of news anchors greeted you, but the title of the breaking news segment made you gasp: “Pablo Escobar Captured in Colombia.” The images flashed across the screen—a chaotic scene with alarms blaring, authorities celebrating their long-sought victory, and citizens pouring into the streets of Medellín to cheer.

As the news anchor continued to speak, detailing the significant events surrounding the capture of the Escobar, your attention was drawn to a particular image that froze time in that moment. There, amidst the chaos was a rooftop view, littered with police and military presence, and standing prominently in the foreground was Steve.

A sinking feeling settled deep within you as you squinted at the image, searching for any sign of Javier. Typically by Steve's side, Javier was missing. The more you looked, the more unsettled you became.

Picking up your phone, your heart beat faster as you dialed his number. Each ring felt like a small eternity, your mind racing with thoughts of what to say. When the line finally connected, you mouthed to yourself ‘thank fucking god,’

“Peña,” his deep voice greeted you, and it sent a jolt through your body, alongside the sharp pang of missing him. You could picture him, leaning back in his chair, a cigarette poised between his fingers, brow furrowed with concentration.

“Javi,” you breathed out, unable to keep the joy out of your voice. “You caught him! After all this time—”

“I know,” he interrupted, his tone turning serious. “It’s finally over,”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in Miami right now—U.S. Ambassador sent me out here for some leads. So, I wasn’t there when they caught him,”

The moment the words “I’m in Miami right now” left Javier’s lips, a rush of conflicting emotions coursed through you. Miami—he was just a few hours away.

“Javi, necesito verte,” you blurted out before the rational part of your brain could stop you. Javi, I need to see you. “I’ll fly down. Just tell me where you are.”

His silence on the line felt deafening. “No tienes que hacer eso,” he finally replied, his voice cautionary, almost pained. You don't need to do that. “It’s still not safe, and I don’t want you to get involved with this.”

You felt a flicker of frustration. “You don’t understand. I need to see you. I’ve been worried sick about you for months. You barely ever answer your phone. I can’t wait, Javi. I’ll book the flight right now.”

“Por favor,” he insisted. Please. “Just stay put. Just give me a few days, alright?”

But you couldn’t just sit there any longer, no matter how serious he sounded. “I can’t! I need to see you. You can’t do this to me, not after everything we’ve been through. It’s been so long, and...and when I saw the news—” your voice cracked, emotions bubbling to the surface. “You know what...I’m not asking for permission. I’m telling you I’m coming.”

“Goddammit, you’re still so fucking stubborn,” he sighed, and while there was exasperation in his tone, you couldn’t help but smile.

There was a pause on the line, and you could almost feel him weighing the risks. “Okay,” he finally said, his voice lowering to a whisper. “But promise me you’ll be careful. You can’t tell anyone you’re coming, and I’ll pick you up at the airport.”

“Lo prometo,” you replied, urgency propelling you to book the flight in record time. I promise.

Hours later, the plane landed with a jolt that stirred your adrenaline. As you walked through the airport terminal, your heart raced, a mix of hope and nervousness bubbling inside you. You stepped through the double doors, scanning the crowd until you spotted him leaning against a column, his silhouette unmistakable, even in the throng of travelers.

Time froze for a beat as your eyes locked. Javier took a long drag from his cigarette, but the moment he caught sight of you, he flicked it to the ground, pushed himself off from the leaning post, rushing toward you, and brought you into his arms for a deep hug. You melted against him, the familiar warmth wrapping around you like a blanket.

“I missed you so much,” you whispered against his shoulder, squeezing him tight, drinking in the scent of him, the realness of him. Tears pricked your eyes as you pulled back slightly to look at him. “You’re safe. I was so scared…”

“I’m okay, especially now that you’re here, Hermosa,” he murmured softly, his eyes searching yours. A tear slipped down your cheek, and he gently brushed it away with his thumb. “I can’t believe you’re here,” he breathed in disbelief, his voice tight with emotion.

“I had to see you,” you insisted, still pulling him close, your heart swelling at the sight of him.

Javier chuckled softly, brushing his fingers through your hair, grounding himself in the moment. “God, I’ve missed you.” The tenderness in his voice made your heart flutter.

“Javi,” you began, tilting your head as you glanced at the discarded cigarette at his feet. “I hope you’re not about to tell me you forgot the promise you made. Because I distinctly remember that charming smile of yours saying you’d toss the cancer sticks the moment Pablo was captured.” Your voice dripped with faux seriousness as you gestured toward the ground to remind him of his drunken promise during a karaoke night a few years ago.

Javier shrugged dramatically. “Only if I got to celebrate with a stiff drink. Seemed fair at the time, don’t you think?”

“A stiff drink, huh? So, one more cigarette for good luck before we get fucked up tonight?” You chuckled, nudging him with your shoulder.

Javier took his pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket, glanced at the pack, then back at you. With a resigned chuckle, he stepped over to the nearest trash can, peering inside for a moment before tossing in the pack.

“A promise is a promise,” he said, a playful smirk stretching across his face. He turned back to you, “Now, about that stiff drink…I know just the place.”

“Perfect,” you said, biting your lip to hold back your grin.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he said, eyes darting around, assessing the bustling crowd. He led you through the terminal, his hand finding yours and interlacing your fingers as if he couldn’t bear the thought of losing contact. It was a small gesture, but it felt monumental after the distance that had accumulated between you both.

As you weaved through the crowded terminal, fingers intertwined, you noticed a flicker of uncertainty cross Javier’s face. He stopped abruptly, pulling you slightly as he glanced down at your hands in wonder.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice taking on an edge of hesitance as he gently loosened his hold. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be disrespectful –”

“I don’t care,” you interrupted, stepping closer and meeting his gaze head-on. “Javi, it’s just a hand. I want to hold your hand,”

“What about your boyfriend?” he asked, concern creeping into his tone.

You stopped short, your mind racing as images of the man you had been seeing flashed by—his charming smile, the way he always seemed to know what to say. On paper, he was wonderful. But the truth lingered uncomfortably; you weren’t in love with him.

“That ended two months ago,” you finally confessed.

His eyes widened for a moment before narrowing, searching your face. “It did?” he asked, bewildered. “Why did you—”

“Because it wasn’t working,” you answered swiftly.

For a heartbeat, silence stretched between you, filled only by the bustle of travelers rushing past. He stared at you, processing what you had said, and something shifted in his expression—a kind of relief, or maybe a dawning realization. His eyes softened, and the tension in his shoulders eased, allowing a breath he seemed to have been holding to escape.

“You want me to hold your hand, Hermosa?” He asked cautiously, as if testing the waters.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice steady. “I’ve always wanted you to hold my hand.”

Slowly, Javier’s fingers found their way back to yours, and a beautiful smile broke across his face —exposing your favorite dimple.

Spring 1994

The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the sprawling ranch in Laredo, Texas. The air was thick with the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses as the wedding festivities unfolded around you.

Javi had asked you if you wouldn’t mind being his date to this wedding. He told you that he hated how the town now viewed him as a total hero for catching Escobar — he was too jaded by the brutality he’d witnessed back in Colombia. He didn’t want to deal with the fanfare alone, so he bought you a ticket to Laredo and here you were.   Over the last few days, you got to know his family and friends, each moment filled with laughter and warmth. Javier's father, Chucho, was instantly enamored with you, a broad smile plastered across his face. From the moment you met, he enveloped you in a bear hug that felt almost familial, showering you with compliments and affection that made your cheeks warm.

“Javier has never brought home anyone as beautiful as you,” Chucho exclaimed, his pride evident as he patted his son on the back.

“Pops, stop harassing her,” he said, his cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson, a stark contrast to his typically composed demeanor. His brow furrowed slightly as he cast his eyes down, unable to meet your gaze for a moment.

"Gracias," you replied, a smile pulling at your lips as Chucho extended another welcoming grin stretching across his face.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he said warmly as he shook your hand. His grip was firm, and you could feel the strength behind it.

"The pleasure's all mine. Thank you for inviting me and letting me stay in the guest room in this beautiful house Mr. Peña," you replied genuinely.

“Please call me Chucho, Mija,” he said lovingly. Chucho's eyes danced between you and his son, a knowing smile appearing on his face as he looked back at Javier. "I’m glad you two had each other in Colombia," he remarked, the words layered with a heavy implication.

Javier chuckled awkwardly, and you could see the tips of his ears turn pink as he fidgeted, rubbing the back of his neck while casting a sideways glance your way.

Tucked away near the edge of the gathering, you watched as Javier animatedly conversed with his ex-fiancée, Lorraine. She was stunning, a tall blonde with cascading waves of hair that framed her face, effortlessly charming everyone around her. It was sort of crazy seeing him with her, realizing that he had almost married someone nearly a decade ago.

As if sensing your gaze, Javier looked over at you and flashed a reassuring smile. It did little to ease the flutter of insecurity roiling in your stomach, even as you reminded yourself of the warm, tender moments you had shared in Miami. Three nights wrapped in his arms, secure and happy—yet still, not even a kiss had passed between you two. You wondered if that absence of intimacy had allowed you to convince yourself that you were simply just meant to be friends. Maybe that was all you could ever be.

You found yourself lost in thought, realizing that maybe you just weren’t Javier’s type. He hadn’t hit on you since the first night he met you. The more you observed, the more your insecurities crept in. Lorraine, with her long legs and radiant smile, was the kind of woman that could effortlessly command a room. She was everything you weren't. You glanced down at your outfit—a simple sundress that highlighted your curves but felt far less glamorous compared to the outfits flaunted by the other women — who had been all over Javier tonight.

As Javier approached the table, wiping his palms on his dress pants, you forced a smile, masking the swirl of emotions that had taken hold of you. The laughter from the surrounding guests faded into a distant hum, and all you could focus on was the way his eyes sparkled with unfiltered joy. He looked good—handsome in a way that made your heart race. He was even more handsome now than when you first met him all those years ago.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, leaning closer, his voice low enough to create a bubble around the two of you.

“I know,” you blurted out before you could think better of it. It took a moment for the gravity of your words to settle, but when it did, he looked confused, eyebrows knitting together as he searched your face for clarity.

“Know what, Hermosa?” he asked.

“About you being asked to go back to Colombia to investigate the Cali Cartel,” you clarified, trying to keep your tone light, but it felt heavy with the implications you hadn’t yet articulated clearly. “Connie told me,”

Javier’s expression shifted, the casual demeanor he had worn all night falling away, replaced by a flicker of something deeper. “Oh,” he said, pursing his lips, taking a quick breath. “Jesus Christ, that fucking hillbilly tells his wife everything.”

"Javi," you started, your voice steady but soft, "I don’t think you should go back to Colombia. Not now. Not after everything you’ve been through." His brow furrowed slightly, but you pressed on, your heart racing. "I mean, you’ve done your part. You’ve fought hard, and you caught the most dangerous man in the world. Enjoy the fucking victory. You deserve a chance to breathe, to create some sense of normalcy for yourself. Hang out with your dad, be here… and just be happy,”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you continued before he could speak. “You’ve been through so much. You need time to recover—to find a life that doesn’t revolve around the chaos of violence. Maybe even find someone who makes you smile, who reminds you that life can be good so that you don’t drag yourself back into that darkness.” As the last words slipped from your lips, you searched his eyes for understanding.

“Just fucking stay, Javi,” you finished, voice trembling slightly.

He was silent for a moment, eyes searching yours. “You really think so?” His voice, low and thoughtful.

“Absolutely,” you said. “You have a chance to build something real—somewhere where you don’t have to keep looking over your shoulder. You deserve that.”

As the words hung between you, Javi’s expression shifted. “You’re right,” he finally admitted, though there was an undercurrent of something else in his tone. “But…” He took a breath, a shadow crossing his face. “I’ve already met someone.”

Your heart sank a little, a jolt of jealousy coursing through you. Perhaps the thought of him moving on caused you more pain than you expected. “Oh,” you managed, forcing an air of indifference into your voice. “In Laredo? Oh my gosh is she here tonight?” you shrieked starting to scan the crowd.

He tilted his head slightly, and taken aback by your reaction, he scoffed incredulously. “No. Not here,” he said, his voice firm but still laced with a hint of playfulness. “I’m talking about someone I met back in Colombia,”

Your brow furrowed with confusion, your mind racing to piece the puzzle together. “Wait, what? Which girl from—”

“Yeah,” he interrupted, a glimmer of something—was it amusement?—lighting up his features. “This insanely sexy and feisty girl who drenched me in Sangria at a bonfire once." His eyes were locked on yours with a gentle intensity, and suddenly, the world around you faded into a blur. “I’ve been fucking my fist thinking about her ever since.”

The comment was oh so crude and oh so Javi that a giddy warmth surged through you, a mix of disbelief and joy washing over you until you felt dizzy. “But Javi, you didn’t even try anything in Miami,” you insisted, your voice a confused murmur.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I deserve a fucking medal,” he laughed, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “You were hardly wearing anything at all when we would go to sleep. You didn’t exactly make it easy for me, did you? It made me feel like I was on the verge of exploding.”

You couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Exploding? Really?”

“Yeah. Exploding,” he confirmed. His eyes were fixed on you, steady and sincere, and all you could think about were those nights in Miami.

Nights where you’d tossed and turned just inches from him. You had intentionally chosen the skimpiest of pajamas, fully aware of the effect it could have on him. Each night as you slid into bed beside him, clad in nothing more than your tiny shorts and a loose tank top. You had held your breath, waiting for him to finally take the plunge, to close the space between you and make those nights just a little more than friendly. But Javi never had. Despite the unspoken tension that hung in the air, he just chose to wrap an arm around you and pull you close instead. It was maddening and sweet all at once.

“So, you thought about it?”

Javier smirked, that infamous dimple appearing. “Oh, I thought about it, alright. I thought about it a lot. I’ve been thinking about it since 1989.” The way he leaned closer, his breath tickling your cheek, sent shivers dancing down your spine. “But I was trying to be a gentleman,”

“But you’re not a gentleman,” you teased.

Javier leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow as a playful smirk tugged at his lips. “I figured you weren’t the kind of girl who would appreciate that kind of behavior.”

“Maybe you would’ve been surprised,” you shot back.

“Is that so?” he mused, his tone low and provocative. “Maybe I should have tested that theory.”

Your cheeks warmed, uncertainty lacing through you as you bit your lip. “How about just testing that theory now?”

Javier’s gaze intensified, the playful banter shifting into something thicker, something that hung heavy in the air between you. “Are you sure?” he asked, his tone dropping, “Because if we test that theory, it might change everything.”

“Maybe I want it to change everything,” you admitted softly.

A slow smile crept across his face. “You want to take that risk, huh?” he teased, but there was a seriousness underlying his words. “Because once we start this… I don’t know what’ll happen. I might say something crazy like… I’m so in love with you, Hermosa. It scares me,”

You blinked at him, trying to process his words. Words you think you had always wanted to hear. You thought of all the moments he had been there for you these last 5 years. Every laugh, every secret, every heartbeat flashed through your mind.

“Maybe it’s time to say those things… because I love you too, Javi,” you finally breathed.

Javier stood frozen for a moment. Because… the girl of his dreams, the one he had spent countless hours and years thinking about was standing right before him, confessing that she loved him too.

His heart raced, pounding in his chest as he took a steadying breath, trying to process the overwhelming surge of joy that threatened to consume him. He couldn’t fathom that this moment was real—that you felt the same way about him.

Without thinking, he cupped your face in his palm, brushing his thumb softly across your cheek, the action feeling achingly tender. And then he leaned in, his heart thundering as he closed the distance. Your lips met his, and it was everything he had dreamed of and more. The taste of you was intoxicating, and the way you melted into him felt just right.

As he pulled back slightly, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt, he found only warmth, the kind of assurance that settled him at his core. “No to merezco,” I don’t deserve you. 

“None of that,” you replied passionately.

“You have no idea how much you matter to me. Being around you, these past few days has made me realize just how much I want to be here—wherever here might be. I’ll move to New York City tomorrow if you want me there,”

“Just like that?” you asked.

Javier smiled, genuine and breathtaking. “Just like that. I talked to Pops, and I already called the New York Division of the DEA, and they said I could start anytime I want,”

“It can’t possibly be that easy, can it?” you breathed out.

“Who says it can’t be?”

He knew that this decision would change everything. And he wanted it. He wanted to be near you. More than that, he needed to be near you.

You were it for him.

He pictured one day proposing to you. He envisioned one day having a home filled with laughter, perhaps colorful drawings scattered across the fridge, memories created day by day. Javier could see it clearly—small feet padding across hardwood floors, chubby little fingers grasping at his own.

“It can be this easy,” he continued. “Because it’s you and me.”

You bit your lip, contemplating, and Javi could see the gears turning in your mind. His heart raced as he watched you process the gravity of what he was proposing. The prospect of leaving Laredo was daunting, but the thought of staying solely for the sake of familiarity felt even emptier now that he had you.

“Javi, I don’t want you to feel rushed. This needs to be what you want... not just for me.”

“Believe me, it is what I want,” he replied with so much sincerity in my voice.

Your eyes softened, a warm glow lighting up your face as you took a step closer, closing the gap between you both. “You make me nervous, you know that?” you whispered, almost shyly.

Javi chuckled, the sound breaking the tension. “Good. I like making you nervous. It means you feel something,” he murmured, his gaze steady and unwavering, wanting you to know he was serious. “I’m nervous too. But trust me, it’s a good kind of nervous. Dirty thoughts and me imagining bending you over this table kind of nervous.”

“Javi!” you scolded, stifling a laugh. “Pórtate bien.” Behave yourself.

“I can’t help it,” he said, smirking against your ear, “this dress is driving me crazy. Eres una seductora, y lo sabes, atrevida.” You’re a seductress, and you know it, naughty girl.

“¿Ah sí?” Is that right?

Every curve, every line, highlighted your body in a way that was utterly intoxicating, and he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He reached out, letting his fingers graze your waist, drawing you in, and pressed his mouth against yours again, and he could feel and taste your smile.

Holy fucking shit. You were going to ruin him, and he hadn’t even gotten you naked yet.

Your mouth was perfect, especially that tongue of yours…but he needed more; he craved you, and the tight knot of desire in his stomach refused to let him linger any longer.

He glanced around, the faint sounds of celebration barely registering in his mind. “See that barn over there?” he said, his voice dropping low, pointing at the rustic wooden doors. “I think we can have some fun in there,” he teased, nibbling at your earlobe.

Your eyes widened slightly stirring a thrill within him. “Right now?” you questioned, your tone laced with excitement and disbelief.

“Yes, Hermosa, please let me fuck you… right now,” he begged, hinting at the desperate need burning within him.

“Like I said, you’re not a gentleman,” you replied, sprinkling kisses around his neck.

Javier chuckled, a low hum rumbling in his chest. “No, I’m definitely not,” he agreed, his gaze darkening with lust as his hands drifted down to grab your ass. “but… I promise I’ll make you feel good,”

And he did.

xx

Tagging some moots and Javi girlies: @katiexpunk. @sawymredfox. @kiwisbell. @schnarfer. @javierpena-inatacvest. @notjustjavierpena . @gothcsz @whocaresstillthelouvre . @pedrospatch . @guess-my-next-obsession . @mrsmando . @punkshort . @auteurdelabre . @honeyedmiller . @pedgito . @endlessthxxghts . @javier-pena . @survivingandenduring . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @joelsdagger . @alltheirdamn . @mountainsandmayhem . @luxurychristmaspudding . @northernbluess @lokischocolatefountain . @kedsandtubesocks . @mothandpidgeon . @burntheedges . @guiltyasdave . @bitchesuntitled . @mermaidgirl30 , @604to647 . @sanarsi . @sizzlingcloudmentality . @aurorawritestoescape

Thank you so much for reading! If you like this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging.

[irisskies]

in the woods | frankie morales x f!reader x santiago garcia x benny miller

a/n: all the love to @moonlitbirdie and @pedropeach for all their support and encouragement with this one. and always.

summary: a camping trip with your boyfriend frankie and his friends takes a turn when you stumble upon a mysterious substance in the woods.

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader x santiago garcia x benny miller rating: 18+ word count: 9k warnings etc: dubcon, sex pollen, smut, foursome, mmmf, vaginal fingering, jealousy, brief erectile dysfunction, frankie lowkey gets cucked for a minute, unprotected p in v sex, handjob, a sprinkling of m/m (fishben), unprotected anal sex, double penetration, oral (m receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, pet names, food, alcohol, alternating POV (frankie, reader), reader is referred to with she/her pronouns and the word "girl." no use of y/n.

READ ON AO3

[irisskies]

Me, You, and Baby, Too

Summary: You and Joel have always wanted kids, but didn't want to rush into having them until you both were ready. After a surprise at his job, Joel realizes there's nothing more he wants to do than put a baby in you as soon as he gets home.

Pairing: Husband!Joel Miller x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (it's baby making time, so hush), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, big ole fat and nasty breeding kink (.... don't look at me it's bad), creampie, cum play, talks of starting a family, calling Joel "Daddy" (in the sense you want to have his babies, but also 🤷🏼‍♀️), Sweet soft Joel who loves his wife and would give her the universe if he could, honestly with just the way Joel is talking about makin' babies, I think I'm pregnant

A/N: It's that time of the month where Madeline ovulates and writes feral breeding kink smut!!! 🤪 Okay I am so nervous to post this because I have never written for Joel before and I'm worried it's trash with a capital T, but after re-watching TLOU, I need 2003 Joel Miller carnally, so here we are. This is also inspired by @mrsmando post about 2003 Joel Miller constantly keeping you barefoot and pregnant because it made me unwell, and no lies were told. (thanks for ruining my life mimi) 🤠 ANYWHO I hope you guys like it, and if not, I'll shut up and go back to writing Javi and Frankie and pretend like this didn't happen

There were a lot of stereotypical answers that you expected from your husband when you asked him how his day at work had been:  

“Good.” 

“Fine.” 

“Long.” 

“My knees are killin’ me.” 

“Tommy did somethin’ fuckin’ stupid again.” 

“Better now that I’m home with you.” 

So when Joel arrived home today after a new job he had started with Tommy on a bathroom renovation, there were few things that could have prepared you for the response your husband had when you asked him how his day had gone. 

“Hey, honey. How was your day today?” You smiled, watching Joel stroll in through your front door, kicking off his work boots at the entryway, beginning to put away his things before strolling into the kitchen to greet you. 

“Pretty good." He paused, leaning in for a quick kiss before making his way over to the closet before speaking again. "Saw a real cute baby today.” 

You could practically feel your heart skip a beat as you looked up from the vegetables you had been cutting up for dinner, tightening the grip you had around your knife to make sure you didn’t drop it in shock. 

Out of all the things for Joel to bring up on the first day at a new job, a cute baby had been at the top of the list.

Not floor plans. 

Not timelines for the project.

Not something stupid that Tommy did. 

Not even what he had done today on the job. 

The top news that Joel Miller had to report back to you about his day was the sighting of a cute baby. 

You and Joel had always agreed that you’d wanted kids, and your husband had been not only adamant, but genuinely excited at the prospect of becoming a dad. But only being a little less than a year into your marriage, the two of you had decided you didn’t want to rush into anything, and when the time felt right, you’d both know it. 

But one by one, as your friends began to announce their pregnancies, baby showers, and pictures of their adorable newborns, you couldn’t help but deny the baby fever starting to burn hotter and hotter inside you with every passing day. 

You’d brought it up in passing a few times with Joel, talking about your friends who had kids, or a cute mom and her children you saw walking around in your neighborhood, and while he had always had a positive response to what you had to say, you just had a feeling that now just wasn’t the time for the two of you yet, and that was okay.  

But here you were, standing in your kitchen, jaw practically scraping the ground at the notion that your husband had dropped just about the least subtle hint ever that babies weren’t just at the forefront of your mind- they were on his, too. 

“Awh, really?” You asked, shaking your head to snap out of your shocked state, returning back to dice the onion you had been working on before Joel could turn around to see you after finishing hanging up his things in the closet, trying to subtly coax more information out of him. 

“Yeah.” He smiled, joining you in the kitchen, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to his chest for a soft kiss to greet you, “The family we’re startin’ the bathroom reno for just moved in. Had their first baby a few months ago and just hadn’t had time to work on fixin’ things.” 

“So they’re already putting the baby to work with you and Tommy?” You teased, raising an eyebrow at Joel playfully, giving him a quick peck back on the lips as he laughed at your sass. 

“Cheap labor.” Joel shrugged back, playing into the joke, “Nah, she woke up from her nap while Tommy and I were runnin’ through some measurements so her mom brought her out for the last lil bit we were there. She was damn cute, too. Just smilin’ and laughin’ at everything.” 

You were glad Joel’s arm was still wrapped around your hip, because you were convinced if it wasn’t, you were about to melt to the floor into a puddle, watching how soft and sweet Joel was talking about a cute, smiling baby. 

“Well a cute baby definitely sounds like a very nice perk of being on the job.” You smirked, trying to play it cool enough to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest. 

“Yeah.” Joel replied softly, quietly pausing for a moment, watching the gears turning in his brain, carefully calculating his words before he spoke. 

“You okay?” You asked, looking up at Joel, knowing your husband well enough that he had something on his mind he was trying to work up the confidence to spit out. 

Joel looked back down at you, big brown eyes locking with yours as his grip around your waist tightened ever so slightly, tongue swiping against his plush bottom lip as he took a long, deep breath in and slow exhale out.  

“Honey, what is it?” You asked again, now slightly concerned with how nervous your husband looked in his stoic silence, reaching up to gently wrap your fingers around his arm, thumb stroking his skin. 

“I want one.” 

You froze, worried that your heart may have actually stopped as you looked at Joel, making sure that you had really just heard what he had said. 

“W-what?” 

“I want one. A baby. I- I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked about it, but I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot, and seein’ that baby today, it just- shit, I just couldn’t stop picturin’ what it would be like to have one of our own I guess.” 

If you weren’t a puddle before, you sure as fuck were now.  

An overwhelming sensation of nerves and excitement began thrumming through your veins, your heart beat pounding in your ears as your face grew warm and a smile started to spread between your cheeks. You were almost certain you had to be dreaming, asking again to make sure that someone needed to come and wake you up and send you back to reality. 

“Joel… Really?” 

“Yeah, really. Nothin’ I want more. I know I ain’t gonna even be close to the perfect dad, but I know you’ll be sucha good mom, and I’ll be damned if I don’t want some tiny lil versions of us runnin’ around. Couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier than that. Like I said, I know that we ain’t talked about in a while, and if ya aren’t ready yet that’s okay but I-” 

Before Joel could even finish the rest of his thought, you were pressing up to plant your lips to his with passionate intensity, hands roaming up his chest before cupping his jaw and the scratchy stubble of his cheeks while your stomach flipped with arousal and want, already feeling a damp patch beginning to pool in the cotton of your underwear. 

You pulled away, kisses traveling along his jawline and up his neck until you were nipping at his ear, the hot breath of your words whispering against his skin. 

“You wanna make a baby, Joel Miller?” 

“Fuck-” Joel groaned, reaching his other arm around you grab at your ass, pulling you in tight enough to feel the bulge beginning to grow under the denim of his worn jeans, pressing against your thigh.

“‘Cause there’s nothing that I want more than to make you a daddy.” You smirked, looking up to watch Joel’s eyes darken with lust, jaw going slack as a low groan rumbled in his chest, his once half hard cock now fully erect and straining against his zipper, trying to keep from giggling watching your husband try to string together any sort of thoughts to speak. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” He moaned, running his hand over his face to try and regain his composure to keep from busting right then and there. “You- fuck, you sure, baby?” 

“Mhmmmm. Don’t think I’ve ever been so sure of anything in my whole life. So sure,” you paused, softly pressing your lips to his between words, “that I think we should go make one right now.” 

Your adamant confirmation was all it took to set off something almost animalistic in Joel, crashing his lips back into yours in a messy clash of tongues and teeth, gripping his hands under your thighs to hoist you up around his hips and lock your legs behind the small of his back. Without ever letting your mouths part, Joel was already halfway to the bedroom before you had even realized it, playfully giggling at how frantically he was carrying you down the hallway, your bodies bumping against the walls and door frames, too focused on desperate and needy kisses for any sort of spatial awareness. 

Finally reaching your bed, Joel carefully laid you down, letting your back fall into the mattress, leaving your lower half to hang off the edge before your husband was on his knees, settling himself between your parted thighs. 

You sat up on your elbows, watching as Joel tightened his grip around the meat of your legs, peppering kisses up the inside of each across your soft skin before coming face to face with your core, planting another soft kiss there before letting his fingers ghost over your heat, still covered by your jeans. 

He rapidly worked at the button of your pants, shuffling them down off your hips to reveal your underwear, now absolutely soaked with arousal from the prospect alone of Joel knocking you up and carrying his baby. 

“Jesus Christ, baby girl, look at ‘cha.” Joel tutted, admiring how the cotton of your underwear clung to the outline of your cunt, sticking to the puffy and swollen lips of your pussy from how wet you were. “Haven’t even touched ya yet. This all for me, darlin’?” 

Just as you began to try and answer, Joel took one of his fingers, barely dragging it over the damp fabric before beginning to rub soft circles over your covered clit, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you at the electric sensation.  

“F-fuck- It’s all for you, b-baby.” You stammered, moaning even louder as a second finger joined the first, pressing more pressure into you sensitive nub as he nudged each of your legs to drape over his shoulders, his free hand tugging at the waistband of your underwear, making you instinctually lift your hips as he yanked them off your legs to crumple in a messy pile with your pants. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen.” Joel mewled, running his fingers up and down through the weeping seams of your folds, toying with your entrance while draping his arm across your hips to hold your squirming lower half in place. “Wants me to fuck her full of me and fill her up so bad, huh?” 

“P-please, Joel. Want you to fill me up so badly.” You whimpered, staring down at your husband, a devilish grin spread across his face, licking his lips as his eyes darted back and forth between your blissed out face and the glistening mess between your thighs. 

“I will sweetheart, promise. Gotta taste you first though, baby. Gotta make sure you’re nice n’ready for me. ‘Cause once we start, I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till I knock you up.” 

With that, Joel was diving between your legs, lapping you up in long and firm strokes, pressing against your clit in the way he knew would make you fall apart under his tongue. While he would have loved to have spend hours just like this, making you writhe under his touch, drinking up your arousal like a wandering man parched in the heat of the desert, Joel had one thing on his mind, and one thing only- 

To get you pregnant.   

Joel began to intensify the pace of his tongue, swirling and sucking around your clit as two of his thick fingers pushed into your heat, sliding in and out of your entrance with ease from how wet and worked up you were. Curling his fingers ever so slightly, you cried out as Joel bumped against your g-spot, pushing against the soft, spongy spot as his tongue worked its magic. 

You could feel the arousal shooting through your veins, heat beginning to bloom in your stomach as Joel fucked you with his fingers and mouth, shooting your hand down to grab fistfulls of his thick, brown hair to brace yourself for your impending orgasm. 

“J-Joel, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, I’m c-close. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” You whined, pussy beginning to flutter around Joel’s fingers, the tightening only egging him on further to get you to cross the finish line. 

With just a little more pressure of his tongue, Joel could feel your cunt clamping down around his digits, watching the pleasure shoot through your body as you came, your orgasm crashing through you like a tsunami. 

As you reached your high, Joel drank up your arousal, not faltering in his pace, too focused on your pretty cries of his name being chanted like a prayer to do anything but keep going and making you feel good. 

Truth be told, Joel had gotten so lost between your thighs, the only thing stopping him was the tensing feeling between his, so pussy drunk and determined to fuck you full of him that he was worried he was about to cum too if he didn’t stop. 

Pulling off you, Joel frantically stood up, racing to undo his belt and jeans, yanking them down his legs in tandem with his boxers as his cock slapped against his stomach, precum already pearling from his tip, desperate to be inside of you. His shirt quickly followed his pants, ripping it over his head as his broad body caged yours under him, helping you to scoot back on the bed until your head hit the pillows, trailing kisses up and down your body the whole way. 

As Joel kissed and nipped at your skin, you quickly shuffled off your top and bra, leaving you bare beneath him, moaning as his tongue flicked against each of your newly exposed pebbled nipples, grouping your breast and kneading the soft flesh in his palms. 

Even though you had just came, you could already feel your cunt starting to clench around nothing, desperate to feel Joel inside of you, to stretch you out with his thick cock and fuck you until you couldn’t think straight. But with the way your chest was heaving and breath shaking from your orgasm, you could barely muster out the words you wanted. 

“J-Joel, p-please, baby. P-please.” 

You snaked your hand between your bodies to reach for Joel’s cock, wrapping your fingers around his length and swiping your thumb over his leaking tip, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you stroked him, trying to guide him to slide between your legs and ease your ache. 

Lowering his hips, you moved your hand and let his replace it, Joel pumping himself a few times before guiding his tip between your folds, collecting your slick to coat his cock, using every last ounce of self-control he had as his eyes locked with yours, wanting to see your face as he pushed inside you. 

“Please, what, darlin’?” Joel teased, knowing damn well what you were begging for. 

“Need to feel you, Joel. Need you to put a baby in me.” You moaned, reaching up to grab his face, your palm rubbing against his stubble as your fingers tugged on the curls at the nape of his neck. 

With one more pump, Joel lined himself up with your entrance, sliding into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting of his length making the breath hitch in the back of your throat, filling you up inch by inch until he bottomed out inside you with his tip just kissing your cervix. 

Joel couldn’t help but smirk as he watched your mouth fall open, parted lips letting a soft moan escape while your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head at the newfound sensation, giving you another moment to adjust before he began to slowly roll his hips, dragging his cock in and out of your core. 

“Christ, baby girl, so wet and tight. Like this pussy was made just for me. Made for me to fuck ya full of me until it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ take.” Joel groaned, reaching down to grab your thighs, pinning your knees to your chest, stretching you open to take Joel even deeper, practically feeling him in your stomach with the position he had you in. 

“Joel, oh my god- fuck, you feel so good. Fuck, baby. Want you to fill me up so bad.” You whimpered, Joel now beginning to pick up his pace as he thrust in and out of you, continually punching in that perfect spot over and over again, leaving your brain bordering on short circuiting. 

Joel’s fingertips dug deeper into the flesh of your thighs, pushing your legs down just far enough to be chest to chest with you, the sweat dampened curls of his forehead brushing against yours as your mouths met in an electric kiss, catching each other’s muffled moans with each snap of Joel’s hips. 

“Yeah, sweetheart? Want me to fill you up? Fuck a baby into you? Let everyone see what a pretty momma you are, carryin’ our kid?” Joel grunted, picturing you, months from now, belly round and tits swollen, pregnant with your baby, wondering how many you’d let him give you, because fuck, he’d keep knocking you up until he had nothing left to give. 

Each push and pull of your bodies against each other felt more and more electric, an undeniable coil tightening in your stomach with the way Joel was pounding into you and the hairs at the base of his cock were brushing against your clit, already feeling yourself beginning to teeter on the brink of pleasure once again. 

“Yes, fuck, fuck- yes, Joel. I wanna have your baby. Want you to knock me up so I can make you a daddy. Please, baby, please.” You were all but sobbing at this point, your fingers digging into the tan and sweat sheened skin of Joel’s broad shoulders, overwhelmed by the lewd combinations of Joel’s heavy pants in your ear and wet squelching of your pussy as his pelvis flushed against yours repeatedly. 

Joel could feel you beginning to tighten around him, pussy sucking him in with its warmth and wetness, ready to clamp around his cock and milk him for all he was worth. 

“That’s it, darlin’, I know you’re close. Gotta cum for me first though, baby girl. Gotta feel ya soak me before I stuff ya so full of me, I swear t’god, you’ll be drippin’ outta me for days. So fuckin’ full that I’ll get you pregnant right now.” Joel groaned through gritted teeth, leaning back to reach and grab your leg, wrapping it around the small of his back before you lifted your other to join it, locking your ankles to keep him as close to you as possible. 

“Joel, oh my god, fuck baby, fuck, I’m gonna- fuckfuckfuck-” 

Suddenly, your orgasm was rushing through every inch of you, crying out as the pleasure hit you like a freight train, choking Joel’s cock with your pussy, unable to do anything but relish in the white hot bliss that had you nearly floating out of your own body. 

While Joel would have kept fucking you until the sun went down, the truth was he was relieved to feel you cum, spending every second since your agreement in the kitchen trying to keep from finishing until he was balls deep inside you and you were soaking his cock as you reached your high. The realization that now was his chance to make good on his promise, to fill you up and fuck a baby into you, ignited something primal, feral, in him, pounding into you at a punishing pace as he could feel himself teetering on the brink of collapse right with you. 

“That’s my girl. That’s it, cum all over my cock, baby. Shit, I’m gonna cum too, fuck- gonna fill this tight lil pussy up so goddamn much, give you a baby, make you a momma, oh fuck!” 

With one final stutter of his hips, Joel let out a strangled moan, flushing his hips against yours as he milked himself of every last drop, painting your warm, wet walls with hot ropes of his spend, making sure nothing went to waste. 

He couldn’t help but but press even further into you, plugging you with his length and fucking his cum as deep as he could into your cunt to make sure it took, collapsing on top of you with his cock still buried in your heat, letting your chests heave together in sync as you both caught your breath. 

Joel was convinced he had never cum so much in his entire life, afraid that if he pulled out, that somehow he’d have more left to give, and sure as fuck wasn’t going to risk letting anything coming out of him end up not inside of you. 

Well, not until your muffled grunt rumbled beneath him. 

 “Joel, baby, I love you but you’re kinda squishing me.” You huffed, giggling to yourself as you watched your husband come-to in real time out of his post-orgasmic state, immediately offering a half muttered apology as he rolled off you, sitting back on his knees to admire the shiny and slick mess between your legs. 

“Fuck me…” Joel murmured to himself, eyes wide as he stared at your pussy- wet, puffy and soaking with your arousal, bringing his fingers to your spent hole as he watched a dribble of his cum begin to leak out. Gently scooping it up, he collected everything he could, pressing it back into your cunt before pulling his hand out. Crawling up the bed to lay next to you, Joel wrapped you up in his arms as the little spoon, peppering ticklish kisses over your back and shoulders, making you burst into laughter. 

“Joel, stop! That tickles!” You squealed, squirming in his grasp, trying to defend yourself from his unrelenting attack of soft, plush lips and scratchy beard dancing across your skin. 

“Don’t laugh so damn hard, or all my hard work’s ‘bout to come out!” Joel teased, giving you a playful nudge, pulling you in even closer. 

“Stop making me laugh, then! Plus, I think you came enough to put quadruplets inside of me, so I think we’ll be okay.” You snorted, Joel joining in on the laughter. 

“Baby, I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard in my whole goddamn life.” Joel sighed, shrugging as you rolled your head up to look at him and that stupid goofy grin he got whenever he couldn’t contain his excitement about something. “God, I love you.” 

“I love you too, Joel.” 

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, Joel slowly bringing his arm to rest across your stomach, thumb slowly tracing careful circles on your skin. 

“You’re gonna make such a good mom. I’m the luckiest man alive that you wanna have a family with me. Still not really sure what I ever did to deserve it.” 

“Joel! You’re gonna make me cry! And this is before pregnancy hormones, ya jerk.” You tried to laugh, choking back the tears welling in your eyes. 

“Yeah, what a jerk, your husband tellin’ you how much he loves you.” He teased back, planting a long kiss on your temple, before pressing another one to your lips. Another wave of soft silence followed, watching Joel’s face scrunch in a calculated concentration. “How big of a crib you think I gotta make? I don’t know ‘bout a rockin’ chair, but a crib can’t be that hard. I gotta measure the guest room tomorrow.” 

“Honey, I don’t even know if I’m pregnant yet, you don’t need to have a crib built tomorrow.” You teased, laughing at Joel, despite the fact his mind was already thinking about a baby room and accessories had you melting. 

“Sweetheart, what did I say earlier? I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till we know there’s a baby in there.” He smirked, nodding at his hand still splayed across your stomach, “So you better get comfortable, ‘cause if it’s up to me, there ain’t a chance in hell we’re gettin’ anything but a positive pregnancy test at the end of this month, and we'll sure need that crib nine months from now. Never hurts to get a head start."

Tag List: (Sorry if I tagged you and you don't wanna be tagged, just let me know!!)

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

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@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[irisskies]

Easy Access

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption. Fingering. Unprotected intercourse. Creampie. Semi-public sex.

Summary: Unable to keep your hands off of each other since Will's return home from tour, going to a party at Benny's proves to be no exception, especially when he discovers you're not wearing any panties under your sundress.

A/N: It is so rare that Will is smiling and happy so I've made it my mission to give him every ounce of joy he deserves and packed it all into one delicious fic for you, all while indulging in the slutty "bend me over and fuck me in a sundress" fun which is still very much IN 😤 I am also celebrating my 1 year Charlie-versary of when I posted my first fic for one of his characters, which just so happened to be Will Miller, Breathe.

---

Three days had passed since Will returned home, meaning it had been three days since either of you stepped foot out of the house.

Keeping your hands off of each other since the moment they made contact again was proving impossible, your attempt at making up for lost time a challenge both of you had eagerly accepted.

Even now as you sat in his truck on the way to Benny’s, Will had his hand planted firmly on your bare leg, your short sundress giving some relief from the sweltering summer weather, but his palm felt like it was on fire the longer it lingered there, spreading a heat through your whole body that rivaled the sun beaming in through the open window.

He gave your thigh a squeeze before reaching for your hand, bringing it up to his mouth where he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, letting it linger there so you were able to feel his breath and the soft prickling of his beard.

Pulling up to a stop light, Will glanced over at you, smiling against your hand as he sent you a wink that ignited even more fire through your veins.

“You look good, sweetheart,��� he praised, his familiar drawl low and enticing.

“Do we have to go?” you joked, tilting your head as you squirmed in your seat, seeing his smile grow into a chuckle that you had missed more than you ever thought possible.

“Yeah, we do. Unfortunately we can’t stay locked up in the house all week.”

His eyebrows rose on his forehead when he looked at you, and when he tucked his lip between his teeth after he stopped speaking, you wondered how much effort it would take to convince him otherwise.

You nodded, giving his hand a squeeze as he looked forward at the road again when the light turned green.

“I know you’re looking forward to seeing your brother.”

Will nodded in response, using his free hand to turn his truck left onto the next street. “Yeah, I am.”

Benny had deployed nearly two months before Will had, Pope along with him, and with Frankie, Tom and Will all on their own tours, this was one of the longest periods they had all gone without seeing each other.

Frankie had arranged it all, gathering everyone together for a dinner at Benny’s as a reunion, the need to celebrate each of them returning home safe a priority and perfect excuse to smoke a giant slab of meat and toss back some beers.

“We won’t stay too late,” Will assured, stealing a glance over at you again, his eyes traveling up your legs to your chest that bounced along with the movement of his truck over each bump in the road.

“We can stay as long as you want, Will. I can’t keep you all to myself forever.”

A sort of growl mixed in with his laugh as he shook his head and tried his best to focus on driving, and you felt your pulse quicken as you watched his hammer in his thick neck.

“See, sweetheart, that’s where you’ve got it wrong.”

He pulled onto Benny’s street, slowing down as he approached his brother’s house and found a spot not far down from it, parking his truck behind Catfish’s.

Unfastening his seatbelt, he leaned over the console to get closer to you, his expression somewhat serious even though the hint of a smile played on his gorgeous lips.

“All I want is to hide away with you forever,” he admitted, making your heart feel as if it would burst in your chest.

Before you had the opportunity to say anything in response, Will reached over to close the space between you, his left hand cupping the side of your face to keep you in place as his mouth crashed into yours, a surprised gasp that turned into a soft moan tumbling off your tongue as his danced with it.

It was dizzying, the passion in that kiss and every one that had come before it since his return unlike anything you had experienced before, the crave you felt to taste him on your lips again and again an addiction you could never be rehabilitated from.

You heard him chuckle quietly after he had pulled away, his thumb rubbing your cheek while you kept your eyes closed, almost feeling afraid that if you opened them, he wouldn’t be there. Everything you did in the last three days felt otherworldly, too perfect to be real, and even now you let your fingers dig into the tattooed skin on his forearm just as you had so many times already in order to believe he was actually there with you.

A sigh of relief blew past your lips when you finally did open your eyes, finding him staring back at you with a warmth that made his eyes seem to glow in the late afternoon sun, the smile he flashed at you grounding you just as much as it disarmed you.

“I wish we never had to leave that bed,” he purred, moving to pull the handle to open his door to step out.

“Who said we can’t carry on what we do in bed anywhere else?” you replied, cheekily, grinning in reaction to seeing his eyebrows raise high on his forehead in amusement as he walked around the front of his truck and over to the passenger side, giving you a somewhat warning look as he opened your door for you.

“You’re playing with fire, here. Better watch yourself.”

You chewed on the side of your lip as you hopped out of your seat, feeling mischievous in knowing he had yet to discover your dirty little secret, excitement mixing with arousal as you wondered how he would react when he noticed.

Closing your door, you met him at the open door of the back seat, standing to the side as he reached in and grabbed a dish off the floor, leaving another that contained one of the other appetizers you had prepared for you to carry in as he lifted the small cooler full of beers out of the bed of the truck.

You made a point of leaning in as far as you could to reach it, bending at your waist as much as you could even though it wasn’t necessary due to the height of the truck, but knowing this angle would allow for him to see your bare ass.

“Are you not wearing any panties?” he asked, surprise and amusement in his voice, the expression on his face matching when you stood upright and faced him.

You grinned and shrugged, watching his sly smile reach his eyes that were now tinged with a darkness that you knew was lust.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he huffed, slamming the door shut before turning to step onto the sidewalk. “Jesus Christ,” he added under his breath, clearly wondering how he was going to manage now.

With satisfaction giving you a spring in your step, you followed, walking up the driveway beside him, hearing music coming from the backyard along with the familiar laughs of your friends.

Will paused, quickly meeting your lips in a forceful kiss, the deep breath he took when he parted telling you how hard he was working at keeping his composure before reaching the gate that would lead you into the party.

He flicked the latch on the gate, but grabbed the top of it with his large hand before letting it swing open, blocking the entrance so you were stopped beside him. The look he gave you was stern, adding to the flurry of excitement already pulsing wildly through you, and his voice held a tone that made you hold your breath and your skin tingle, feeling the light, humid breeze tickle the sweat on your legs as your less-than-innocent sundress moved with it.

“If you’re gonna play games like this, you’re gonna have to deal with the consequences,” he warned, the corner of his mouth pulling upward ever so slightly as he backed himself against the door to open it, still holding eye contact with you as he let you pass by him.

You didn’t know how long you had been there for, the only thing you knew was that your need for Will was increasing with each passing second and that he seemed to enjoy torturing you, the game you had set up to have him begging for you effectively reversed. It was difficult to keep a steady conversation with anyone - impossible, even - your focus drawn across the yard to wherever Will was standing, seeming to latch eyes with him each time and feeling his locked on you when you forced yourself to look away.

The way he was making you feel almost had you regretting your decision not to wear panties and make it known to him, but as you watched him lick his lips and rub the back of his neck as he half-listened to something his brother and Pope were laughing about, you knew your choices would be rewarded despite him acting like punishment was a more suitable response, and if you were honest, that was exactly what you were hoping for.

You knew you were pressing your luck, sitting down on an old lawn chair, your gaze fixed on Will to make sure he was watching as you blatantly crossed your legs, knowing he could see your naked sex before the overlap of your bare thighs concealed you again.

Despite the somewhat smug grin on your face, your heart was racing uncontrollably, the nerves coursing through you growing at a furious rate as you took in the unreadable expression on Will’s face. You couldn’t decide if he was angry or amused, his arms folded across his chest, his stance sturdy and confident, chewing on a toothpick that he rolled from side to side across his lips with his tongue, and it made you wonder if he couldn’t decide how to feel either.

He shook his head and you noticed his chest rise and fall with a huff before looking away, plucking the toothpick out of his mouth so he could take a sip of his beer that he reached for off the picnic table.

You bit your lower lip, trying to mask your satisfied smirk, and took a deep breath of your own as you attempted to refocus on the conversation happening around you, but you still couldn’t seem to peel your eyes away from Will.

He was clearly trying to do the same, but also failing, and when he stole a look over at you again, you took the opportunity to recross your legs to give him another glimpse of what was his for the taking if he dared.

The crunch of the aluminum can being crushed in his powerful hand seemed to echo in your ears, his eyes steely as he maintained eye contact with you while his other hand subtly adjusted his cock in his shorts that you knew was getting hard.

Will licked his lips before looking back to Benny where he patted his brother firmly on the shoulder, saying something to him as he held up his empty beer can, taking a step in the direction of the garage.

Catching your gaze again, he tilted his head, nodding for you to follow him before he disappeared around the wall of the building.

With your mouth now feeling dry, you downed what was left of your drink and stood, politely excusing yourself from the others who sat near you even though you hadn’t contributed to the conversation in too long a time thanks to your occupied thoughts, your hand instinctively smoothing the back of your dress to make sure you were covered as you walked through the yard.

Looking over your shoulder to ensure no one was following, you rounded the corner only to walk straight into Will who lunged out and grabbed you, laughing as you yelped, your heart stopping from the scare.

“Jesus, Will!”

He continued to chuckle, his smile crooked as he still held the toothpick between his lips, his hands groping at your waist and then lower to your bare ass. You couldn’t help but join his laughter, seeing him smile and be this playful replacing the brief fright with a swell in your heart.

“I don’t think you have any idea how much I missed hearing your laugh,” you admitted, resting your hands on his warm chest as he beamed at you.

“Is that so?”

You nodded your head in confirmation, smiling as he dipped in and kissed you, your arms wrapping around his neck while his secured around your back and pulled you against him, able to feel his cock pressing against your body.

“Come here,” he said through a growl, his voice rough and lusty while his eyes continued to hold a playfulness in them, leading you in through the open door and giving the toothpick a flick that landed somewhere on the oil-stained concrete floor.

Walking far enough in so he was sure no one would see you unless they actually came inside the garage, Will wasted no time in planting you against Benny’s workbench, his kisses coming on so forceful and desperate it was hard to keep up.

Both of you were smiling between kisses, completely elated and lost in the thrill of it all, and as much as you had expected Will to follow through on making you pay for your little stunt, it still caught you off-guard when you felt his fingers trail up between your legs to stroke your wet folds.

“Here? Now?” you asked, half squirming and half leaning into his touch, a breathy moan passing your lips as you let yourself succumb to the feel of his index finger pushing inside you.

He peered down at you, his eyes shifting with amusement as you relaxed into him and started to roll your hips. “It's what you wanted, isn't it?”

You nodded quickly, biting your lip to stifle your sounds of pleasure that he was already coaxing out of you.

“You're lucky I can't get enough of you,” he growled, adding a second finger and hooking them to massage your g-spot. “If you're gonna dress and act like a slut then you're gonna be treated like one.”

His words sent a shiver up your spine, your nipples hardening against the thin fabric of your sundress, and your eyes closed as he fingered you as perfectly as always. You felt his face draw close to yours, his breath hot on your dewy cheek, his beard grazing your reactive skin as he dipped in beside your ear.

“No one's gonna know…”

You grinned when his lips attached to your neck, the thought of denying this man anything he wanted humourous, knowing that after being apart for as long as you had, nothing could stop you.

It all progressed quickly; your kisses intensifying with each one, the sound of your name coming off his lips as he told you he loved you making you delirious, your hands grasping at each other desperately.

The smell of his shampoo was awoken by your fingertips scratching through his hair, the press of his lips on yours and the way his tongue claimed your mouth while his beard chafed at your chin and cheeks all a reminder that there would never be a day you would be sated of him.

You let your hands slip down his neck and over his broad shoulders, finding a resting place on his thick chest that radiated a warmth that made his cotton t-shirt cling even more to it, and you could feel his heart thrum against your palm before his laugh rumbled through to it.

“The things you make me do, sweetheart,” he chuckled, allowing his hands to leave your body for a moment while he unfastened the button and zipper on his shorts and pulled out his cock.

You returned his smile, yours feeling lazy on your lips from the haziness of lust, and you reached for his cock, smoothing your hand up and down his length until his smile was wiped away and he clutched your jaw with his hand, squeezing it as he kissed you again.

He peppered along down to your neck, his fervor increasing as your reaction to it encouraged him more, the hand that had been gripping your chin falling to your chest where he pawed at you roughly while the other rucked up the skirt of your dress.

“I still don't think you realize how much I missed you, and I’m not even close to being done yet,” he growled, driving his fingers in your soaked cunt again.

You leaned back against the workbench, your hands gripping the edge of it for stability as your head tipped back, allowing Will more access to attack your neck and chest with his mouth, feeling the grittiness of dirt and grime left from Benny’s projects under your fingertips.

“Fuck, Will…” you breathed, riding his hand without shame.

“Turn around, I wanna see that ass,” he demanded, though his tone was light with mischief.

He removed his fingers from you and aided in spinning you around, kicking your feet apart with his as you hinged forward and resecured your hold on the countertop, his hand trailing from the small of your back where he had pressed with intention to down between your cheeks while lifting your dress back up over the round of your ass.

You moaned, arching back into him, feeling him rub his cock across your cheeks as he continued to finger you from behind, his other hand reaching around to grab your breasts and tug at your neckline.

He gave you a playful spank, but it didn’t come without a sting, making you jolt forward slightly which caused the bench to shake against the wall, his voice gruff but light mannered when he spoke.

“I know you think this dress looks all pretty and innocent on you, but only I know what a whore you actually are in it.”

“Fuck,” you gasped, his words and the way he was hitting the spot that would make you fall apart each time he moved in and out of you causing your arms to break their support, knocking over a few empty beer bottles and cans that sat amidst the rusty tools.

“Easy, baby,” he soothed, but not ceasing his pace. “We gotta be quick but not that quick.”

Continuing to prime you to take his size, you heard him chuckle again, his tone completely satisfied and humoured as if he was basking in the fact that he now had the upper hand in the situation.

“How are you gonna manage with no panties after you’re filled up and dripping with my load, huh?”

You sighed out, glancing over your shoulder at him as he proceeded to grin smugly at you, realizing you hadn’t thought this stunt entirely through.

“We’ll call it an oversight.”

Your response only made Will laugh more, the sound of it making your heart sing in seeing him this happy even if it was partially at your expense.

“You could always put it somewhere else?” you suggested, your mouth watering at the thought of swallowing his hot cum while looking up at his pleasured face from your knees that would end up dirty and scuffed.

He shook his head as he lined himself up to your entrance, pushing into your soppy cunt as his voice changed to be slightly gruff. “Not a fucking chance.”

Your nails raked across the gritty, wood surface as Will bottomed out in you, stretching you completely to fit around his fat cock, the first of his hard thrusts making the workbench slam against the wall.

You cursed under your breath, having him pumping in and out of you a reminder of how hard he had already fucked you that morning, the mix of pleasure and pain making your whines grow to soft cries.

“Does it hurt, sweetheart?” Will asked, the concern in his voice genuine even though he didn’t relent on his pace.

You shook your head ‘no’, pressing your hips back to meet him blow for blow, feeling a tingle scurry down your back at the thrill of it all.

“You know I like it,” you replied, your skin erupting in goosebumps despite the heat when you heard him chuckle in a gratified way.

“That’s my girl,” he grunted, continuing to pound you with ardor.

It was getting difficult to keep quiet, but with how loud the bench was hitting the wall you suspected what you and Will were off doing was no longer discreet to the rest of the party, so you allowed yourself to stop worrying and focus on how good it felt.

Although Will’s heavy panting and rough moans were equally as loud as you were, he gave the occasional warning to quiet down, and each time one of your wails out-did any other noises you were making together, his laugh would ring out, clearly finding the prospect of getting caught hilarious.

“Shit!” Will called out, still through a chuckle, releasing the grip of one of his hands from your hips to grab at a mason jar filled with various bolts, screws and washers as it tumbled down from an overhead shelf. It danced off the tips of his fingers and hit the floor with a loud smash, sending its contents scattering around your feet.

“Will!” you half cried, half scolded, and as you moved slightly to try to see the damage done, your arm knocked a couple of cans off the table to add to the mess on the ground.

“Jesus…” Will laughed, picking up his tempo a bit to quicken getting the job done, the risk growing with each passing second.

The rate at which he was fucking you had you a disheveled mess, the straps of your dress having slipped down your shoulders, and without their security, each hammering thrust continued to shake your body enough until your tits easily fell out.

Nearing your climax, you lost control of the volume of your cries, and in your haze of pleasure, you could barely hear Will telling you to pipe down.

Right when you were about to fall into bliss, Will pulled out of you and roughly turned you around to face him, his hand gripping the side of your face somewhat forcefully before he crashed his mouth against yours to quiet you. His other hand grabbed the flesh of your thigh and lifted it up to lock around his waist, driving back inside you with his cock that was warm and wet from you.

You moaned into his mouth, only to have him force his tongue deeper inside while he resumed fucking you with all he had, moving the hand that had been holding your face down to your exposed breasts.

Like he had given up caring if you were heard, he broke your kiss to look at you, his blue eyes soaking you up as he drank in the heavenly sight before him; your bare boobs bouncing to his movements, the sweat glistening on your chest and neck that made your hair stick to it, your swollen, moist lips that parted as you fought for breath between moans, and then his gaze fell lower where he watched your drenched cunt taking his dick.

“Fuck you are so hot!” he said through a grin, his tone hinting that he couldn’t believe you were his to treat like this.

He dipped back down to your lips, kissing you once before letting his open mouth hang against yours, stealing another glance at where your bodies connected and crude, squelching sounds came from.

“I missed this fucking pussy so much,” he muttered, his lips teasing yours as he did, and unable to take it anymore, you reached your hand around his neck and pulled him against you, kissing him fiercely while driving your hips into his to grind on him roughly.

Broken kisses continued their attempt at suffocating your sounds as you found a rolling rhythm that would see you to your end, your hands desperately tearing at Will’s thick, sweaty flesh through his damp t-shirt.

A violent orgasm ripped through you, forcing Will to press his lips harder against yours to drown out your cries, burying himself deeper inside your walls that choked his throbbing cock, your leg wrapping around his plump, half-bare ass to help ensure he didn't leave you as you rode out your high.

Even if he wanted to hold back, he wouldn't have been able to, your climax inducing his own, his thrusts slamming and stuttering as he pumped you full with aggressive spurts of cum.

“Fuck, baby,” he smiled against your lips, his forehead resting on yours as you both panted for breath, drunk on each other and completely spent.

You giggled, the thrill of your naughty behaviour adding to the post-fuck euphoria, feeling the rumble of Will’s laugh resonate through your body as he remained inside you.

He pulled away from you enough to peer down at you, his eyes heavy and lusty but crinkling at the sides as he smiled lazily at you, his cheeks blushed and covered in drops of sweat, his blond hair darkened from his efforts.

He continued to smile at you as he fixed the straps of your dress, his fingers gently and lovingly grazing your shoulders as he did, looking at you so adoringly that you could never deny how much he had missed you while he was away.

“I really like this dress,” he spoke softly, his fingers trailing down to trace the material that hugged the curve of your breasts, bringing his face close to yours as he pinched your nipple and tugged it, making you moan and arch toward him.

He kissed the space between your ear and neck, and growled as if he was already fighting to restrain himself again. “But I’m gonna rip it off of you at some point and ruin you completely.”

Will’s teeth nipped along your jawline, and before he pressed his lips on yours, looked at you with a dark, promising look that had your body set aflame all over again.

You hummed against his lips, feeling him slip out of you while wondering how much longer you would manage to stay at the party, knowing it would only be a matter of time before you were desperate for him again, and judging by the force of his kiss and the way his hands clawed at your sundress, he was feeling the same.

“You go inside and get cleaned up,” he said, nodding to the door that led into Benny’s house. “I’ll sort all this out.”

You glanced at the mess on the ground he was referring to, broken glass and various types of hardware littered all around you, and being the gentleman he always was, he took your hand and assisted you safely over to the door.

Will tucked himself back in his shorts and promptly located a broom and dustpan, beginning to sweep up when he heard the shuffling of his brother’s footsteps walking into the garage.

Benny stopped, causing Will to look over at him, laughing when he saw the annoyed look on his face.

“Really?” was all Benny managed to get out, his arms outstretched while Will just shrugged and continued cleaning up.

“You two are fucking unbelievable, you know that?” Benny hissed, pushing Will hard on the shoulder as he passed to add more empties to the disrupted collection on the workbench.

Will only laughed harder, dumping what he had accumulated in the dustpan into the garbage as Benny grabbed two beers out of the fridge and handed one to him, knocking his bottle against his and then twisting off the cap to take a sip.

“It’s good to see you happy, man,” he said, clapping his hand on Will’s back before heading out of the garage and back to the party.

---

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[irisskies]

Pussy Liquor (Eric Draven x Stripper!Reader)

Summary: It’s a slow, boring night at the club until he walks through the door.

Warnings: Eric is implied to have a lot of money(he’s in the music industry), unprotected public sex, lust at first sight, choking 18+MDNI

✰ I think this one has been a long time coming for me. I’ve never written stripper!reader but I was a stripper for several years so this is v personal to me. The songs reader dances to used to be my favorite set. thank u for always encouraging me pookie @babygorewhore ✰

It was a dreary, slow night. There were bodies in the club but no money to go along with them. A few dudes you can tell just turned 21 and are here for the experience, they’ll definitely spend the entire evening at the same table drinking cheap beer while they whistle at the dancers with their wallets closed. A few of the girls regulars are here, either in the back or cozied up at a table. If you were lucky they’d ask you to come sit with them and at the very least buy you drinks but you didn’t feel like entertaining someone for nothing more than a few ones and some shots. There was a couple in the corner arguing and a few older men with their eyes practically glued to the slot machines. Classic.

But there was one individual that caught your eye. He wasn’t someone you would usually see in a place like this. He was more like a pretty face you saw on the street and thought about for the rest of the week. He’s tucked away in a back corner booth drinking what looks like shots of crown royal, the whole bottle, always a good sign. He’s approached the stage and tipped each girl generously but hasn’t stayed for a set. You’ve noticed a few girls go offer him dances but he declines, offering them a tip anyway. You couldn’t blame them for trying. He was gorgeous. He’s extremely tall, still towering over even the tallest dancers in their heels. His toned arms are covered in tattoos and the white tee he’s wearing sits taunt against his chest. His distressed black jeans are tucked into beat up leather boots and his face is otherworldly. Those bright green eyes shine in the flashing lights of the club, the way they dance around his face accentuating different parts of his statuesque bone structure. He has full lips and a perfect pointed nose and you’ve never wanted to ride a customer right in the middle of the club until right now. You haven’t felt nervous to go on stage since you were just starting out dancing but the way his viridescent eyes raked over your body as you climbed the stairs to the stage had your heart pounding.

Your first song starts to play and you grab onto the pole lightly as you prance around it to the beat. You press the tip of your healed boot against the bottom of the pole and spin your body around it with your other leg pointed before pressing your back against it. You nearly trip when you see the man you’ve been fantasizing about all night sitting at your stage with a $20 bill sitting on the bar. You regain your composure, smiling at him sweetly as you slide down the pole onto your knees so you can crawl to him. The sound of Rob Zombie’s “Pussy Liquor” thrums through your body, making you feel like a succubus. You stop on your knees in front of the top bar, never breaking eye contact with him as you pluck it with your manicured fingers and stuff it into the band of your black bikini top.

“Thank you, that’s so sweet of you.” You press your tits together as you lean over and stick your ass out behind you. “I’m Bunny, what’s your name?”

“Well, that’s kind of forward, isn’t it?” His voice is much softer than you expected as he returns your smile with one of his own, it’s not condescending though, it’s almost playful. “I’m Eric.”

“Well, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. You can just watch me dance.” You wink at him before leaning back on your knees and pulling the string on your top so it falls down your body, your tits spilling free. Eric’s eyes sparkle and his tongue darts out to wet his lips as he looks up at you like he hasn’t seen multiple pairs of boobs just within the last hour.

You pull the bottom string free and then toss it to the side as you push yourself up on your 8 inch heels. You sway toward the pole, running your fingers through your hair as you purposefully wiggle the fat of your ass. You grab onto the metal and roll your body before swinging your foot around it so you can climb up. You lock your legs together and lean backward, suspending yourself in the air. You watch as Eric pulls out a roll of cash and throws a huge stack of ones followed by several twenty’s. You grab onto your tits and jiggle them for him before titling yourself back up to grab onto the pole. You timed it perfectly so when the beat dropped so did you, right from the top onto the ground in the splits. Eric claps, which you find absolutely adorable because who the fuck claps in a strip club? And then he throws a literal hundred dollar bill onto your stage right as your first song ends. You tease him all through the next song, “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails and when you’re leaning over to press your tits into his face he gives you this dopey smile and tells you that he loves the songs you choose. After your set is done you offer him a dance, and he insists on a private room.

You pull the thick red curtain back so you can lead him into the sectioned off area of the club. There’s walls on all three sides and an open face that’s completely blocked by curtains. You can’t help but giggle at the way he stands there awkwardly surveying the room. You can tell he’s never done this before.

“This your first time?” You grab onto a piece of your hair and twirl it, looking up at him through your lashes. He’s even taller than you thought he was and you have to stop yourself from clenching your thighs when how easily he could toss you around crosses your mind. You have no idea how you’re going to get through the next thirty minutes without getting turned on. You already are.

“Yeah. I’m just not sure how it works.” He chuckles lightly as he rubs the back of his neck but there’s this glint in his eye that tells you he isn’t going to make this any easier on you or your tiny thong.

“Well, why don’t you just sit down on the couch and I can dance for you?” You grab his hand and guide him to the couch, encouraging him to sit down. He obliges you and you lower yourself into his lap with your legs hanging over his. You’re back in your top now, but it leaves little to be desired and you feel your body heat as his eyes rake over you. One of his large hands lands on your thigh and he gives you a questioning look, instead of answering him verbally you swing your leg over his to straddle him and grab onto both of his hands, resting them on your hips. You throw your arms over his shoulders and grind down on him lightly and it has his grip on you tightening.

“I don’t know the rules and you’re making it really hard for me to control myself already.” Eric’s voice is a deep rumble that runs straight to your core and god you don’t usually let customers touch you like this but you’re starting to wonder if you can stop yourself from fucking him right here.

“Wanna know a little secret, Eric?” You ghost your lips across his pierced ear and you can feel his skin break out into goosebumps.

“Yeah.” He groans when you grind down on him harder this time, his grip on you turning almost bruising.

“I don’t usually let guys touch me, even for money, but you? You can touch me as much as you want.” You run your nose down his jaw before pulling away from him, flipping around on his lap and pushing yourself onto your feet. You roll your body and shake your ass for him while pulling your top off again. You shimmy back onto his lap with your back pressed to his chest and grind against his now hard bulge. You can’t help the little whine that escapes you. His large tattooed hands grip onto your tits and that’s when you lose all sense of reality.

“I really liked your songs, ya know?” Eric’s breath tingles against your neck, his lips just barely brushing your skin. “You’re the only girl here I wanted to talk to.”

“Yeah? You’re the only guy I’ve ever seen in here that I actually wanted to dance for.” You throw your hands behind your back so you can lace them behind his head as you continue to wind on his lap. “And it’s so fucking against the rules but I’d let you fuck me right here.” You lean your head back so you can look up into his eyes and his expression has changed drastically, it was like your words flipped a switch inside of him and he wants nothing more to eat you alive.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble, bunny.” He chuckles and brings a finger up to your cheek. He runs it down your face to your jaw before ghosting it over your lips and you can’t help but dart your tongue out to lick the pad of his finger. “Let me take you home with me.”

“Well, I’m not really supposed to do that either. But I really feel like breaking some fucking rules tonight.” You wind your hips in a circle and his cock slides perfectly between your thong covered ass.

“They can’t be too mad if I pay them off, right?” He squeezes your boob, rolling your nipple between his fingertips.

“That would cost a lot. You’re hot enough to lose my job over. There’s other clubs. I want you to fuck me.” You whine and pull the strings of your bottoms so they fall down your hips. You never thought you’d be here, sitting on a customers lap begging him to fuck you like a bitch in heat. But something about this man was making you lose all rationality.

“Money isn’t an issue for me baby. Hell, I’ll get you out of here permanently if you want.” He runs that perfect nose along the column of your throat, inhaling the expensive perfume one of your regulars bought you a few months back. “And you don’t need to beg, the minute I saw you I knew I’d give you anything you asked for.”

“Fuck, Those are some big promises, honey.” You giggle, sugary sweet, and it makes him melt. He grabs onto your hips and pushes you to stand, your tiny thong falling at your feet, leaving you exposed to him. Eric grabs onto the globes of your ass and spreads them open, your pussy lips coming apart with a click from how wet you are.

“Would you look at that? So fucking perfect.” He grips onto your hips to turn you around, making sure to steady you when you stumble in your heels. You watch with wide eyes as he reaches for his playboy bunny belt buckle and your jaw practically drops to the floor when he pulls his cock out. It’s fucking huge and pierced. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep, bunny. Come sit on it.”

Eric pulls you forward and you straddle him, your knees sinking into the leather of the couch. He grips onto his shaft and runs it through your wetness, the balls of his piercing bumping against your clit. He taps the head against your sensitive bud before lining up with your entrance and slowly pushing inside your wet walls. But it’s not enough, you want to feel the burn of the stretch while he splits you open so you slam your hips down onto his, taking him to the hilt in one thrust. It nearly knocks the wind out of you and a moan so loud that the music barely drowns it out.

“Oh fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” Eric grips onto your ass and bounces you up and down on his cock as he stares into your eyes deeply. “You sure nobody is gonna come in here?”

“Nobody will, they’re definitely watching on the cameras and I’m definitely fucked as soon as we walk out of here but they’ll let it play out.” It’s like you gave him the green light because he plants his feet firmly on the ground and starts to fuck up into you. He grips onto your throat so he can pull your lips to his in a filthy kiss, not wasting any time intertwining your tongues together. The metal bar in his cock caresses your walls as his thick head bullies your g-spot and your toes curl in your boots. “Choke me harder.”

“Yeah? You like it rough, bunny? I’m going to have so much fun with you.” Eric squeezes your throat tighter and his free hand comes to run circles on your clit with his thumb. The way he’s talking about you like he already owns you combined with the pleasure he’s giving you has you already teetering towards the edge. “I’m gonna keep you, make you my pretty little fuck doll. You want that?”

“Yes, fuck yes.” You whine, drool starting to drip down your chin as your eyes roll back. Your manicured fingers scratch at his back through his shirt and you wouldn’t be surprised if it has tiny rips in it by the end of this.

“Look at me when you fall apart on my cock.” Eric grunts as he shifts his hips so he’s fucking into you even deeper and it has euphoria washing over your entire body the minute your eyes lock with his. Your pussy clenches around his cock like a vise grip and you moan so loudly there’s no way it can’t be heard outside of this room. But you’re way past giving a fuck. “Oh, that’s a good bunny, come for me.”

“Oh my f-fucking god! Fuckkkk me!” Eric’s thrusts don’t let up as he chases his own high, his hands grip onto your ass again and he’s practically folded in half on the couch as he bounces you like a fuck toy on his dick.

“I’m gonna fucking come.” Eric grunts before he’s pressing your hips flush against yours with his cock twitching inside you. You watch as he throws his head back, exposing his tattooed neck and you can’t help but lean forward and bite down on it. “Fuck yes, fucking bite me.”

You suck and bite on his skin until he goes limp underneath you, panting as he tries to catch his breath. He pushes himself up with his cock still nestled inside of you before pulling you close so he can kiss you with a passion no man ever has before. Who was this guy? And why did you never want to leave him?

“Alright, we should get out of here so I can go lose my job.” You chuckle as you stand up and grab your bikini, tying it back on while Eric tucks himself back into his pants. He comes to stand in front of you, taking your face into his hands.

“I meant that shit I said. I know we don’t know each other, hell, I don’t even know your real name. But come home with me, I’ll pay off these assholes and buy you whatever you want.” Eric smiles at you so sweetly you feel like you’re going to melt into the beer soaked carpet and how can you say no?

“Fuck it. Let’s go.” You giggle and push yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss him before pulling him out to face the music.

You definitely lost your job that night. But Eric fucked you so good you couldn’t even bring it in yourself to care. And he kept his promise. He kept you as his little doll and gave you everything your heart could ever desire.

Tagging a few moots who might be interested: @nailbatanddungeon @myspacebrat @ghoul-friendz @taintandviolent

Divider is by @cafekitsune

[irisskies]

The Songbird and the Spaniard {Pero Tovar x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13K

Warnings: Mafia AU, 1960s, threats of violence, greed card marriage, mentions of communism (McCarthy-ism era), violent assault, anger, rough sex, loss of virginity, communication issues, mentions of infidelity, confessions, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex

Comments: Pero Tovar has a problem, he's being deported. So he solves it by threatening you to marry him. A marriage for a green card, quickly complicated by the possessiveness of the mob boss and the rough taking of your virginity.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The lounge is reminiscent of a 1920’s jazz club. It was the vibe that he wanted and what Pero Tovar wanted, he got. The velvet cushions on the chairs were always bearing the weight of people who wanted to come and have a good time. To gamble, smoke, drink and sometimes fuck in a club that was taboo because it had rumored ties to the mafia. Only people that know that it’s true are the people that work there. As one of the headliner singers, you are well aware of how dangerous the man you work for is, and you despise him. 

You smile at the crowd as you sing, your nerves fading as you serenade the drinkers, the gamblers, the lovers. You have been working at the club for a few years, hired by William, and you love it. The 60’s is in full swing and your mini dress sways around your thighs as you sing. Pero is sitting at the booth in the back, his dark eyes crinkling as he laughs at something William says to him, whiskey in his hand and cigarette in the other. “Boss. There’s a man here for you.” Rita, the coat check comes over to Pero, nervous since he has been cold to her since he fucked her a few nights ago in the cloak room. 

“Why don’t you send him over?” Pero asks, tapping his cigarette on the side of the ashtray. Rita nods and gestures for the man to come over. The man sits, setting his hat down on the table, “you’re a hard man to find Pero Tovar.” He says and Pero narrows his eyes slightly. “And who has been looking for me?” 

The man chuckles, “my name is Mr. Taylor. You’ve received letter upon letter from US immigration. You’re being deported. You arrived from Spain in 1937 as a refugee from Franco but you have failed to disclose if you’re a communist. You have ten days to book your ticket from the US otherwise we will remove you ourselves.”

Pero growls, stubbing out his cigarette and leaning over to grab the wad of cash out of his pocket. “How much to stay?” He demands. “I am no communist, I’m a business owner. This club.” He tells the bureaucratic prick. “I cannot go back to Spain, my life is here.”

Mr. Taylor snorts, “no amount of money will fix this. You have evaded me for too long. You have a week to get your affairs in order before I come back to escort you to your plane. I cannot be bought. We cannot have a communist here and you have not applied for citizenship. You will be leaving the US next week.” Mr. Taylor says as he stands up and hands the letter to Tovar. “One week. I’ll see you here or you will be arrested and detained.” He says before he spins on his heel and exits the club.

“Fuck.” Pero hisses, itching to reach for his gun but it would only make matters worse. William, knowing his friend and business partner, reaches over to take the gun from him under the table so none of the guests will see. “I told you that you shouldn’t ignore the letters.” He snorts, shaking his head and smirking slightly as Lin Mae watches from her sit across the room. His lovely bride is the security for the place and is far better at keeping the peace than even the threat of the mafia. “It’s an easy fix.” He tells the Spaniard easily. “Marry a citizen. Then you can stay.”

Your eyes find Pero and William, a man walking away from their booth, and you see the thunderous look on Pero’s face. He’s pissed off. You smile against the microphone, loving to see Pero not getting his way for once. The band finishes the song and you smile at the applause. “Thank you. I’m going to take a break but I’ll be back in five.” You announce and step off of the stage to walk over to the bar, ordering your vodka soda.

“What about Rita?” William suggests, the bastard laughing at the entire situation and making Pero want to smash his fist into his perfectly straight teeth. “Fuck no,” Pero snorts, motioning for the waitress for his section to bring him another whiskey when his eyes land on you. “Bitch’ll think that I really want to marry her and spit out babies.” He had avoided her after she had been clingy after the fuck in the coat closet, he doesn’t like that kind of shit.

“Thanks, Frank.” You smile at the bartender who  hands you your drink. You sit down on the stool and have a sip, glancing around at the club. It’s busy for a Wednesday but not as busy as the weekend. “What about…?” William jerks his chin over to the bar where you are sitting. “She definitely doesn’t want to have your babies.”

Pero snorts, his eyes sliding along the sleek lines of your dress and caresses every curve hungrily. “She would rather cut my heart out with a spoon.” He grunts, admiring the hatred you seem to harbor for him. It just makes him want you more. To possess you and watch you spit and hiss under him until you start to moan and writhe in pleasure. “That’s perfect.”

You set your empty glass down and make your way back to the stage but before you make it, Tovar steps in front of you. “Excuse me, Tovar. I need to get back on stage.” You huff, wondering what your boss wants. He’s been chasing Rita around the club lately so you don’t know why he is stopping you from getting back to your set. “I need to talk to you in my office.” He grunts and you roll your eyes, “don’t you want me back on stage?” His dark eyes stare at you, showing he’s not interested in an argument and you huff again. “Fine.” You stride onto the stage, whispering to the guitarist to keep playing until you come back. “Boss wants to see me.” You explain and Rico waggles his eyebrows. "As if." You wrinkle your nose and make your way off the stage, down the hall to Pero's office.

Sitting behind his desk, Pero wonders exactly what he needs to say to get you to marry him. Hating that he finds himself in this damned situation, but he needs to stay. He hasn’t been to Spain in nearly thirty years, his home is here and he’s not leaving.

“You know, I was in the middle of a set. William won’t be happy that I’m not out there getting the old men horny so they buy more booze.” You shut the door behind you to see what he wants.

“This is more important.” Pero motions to the chair in front of the desk and makes a show of pulling his gun out from the holster at the small of his back and setting it on the desk before he lights up a cigarette and stares at you for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to tell you. Being blunt is his nature and he decides to go with that. “You will need to be here tomorrow at ten in the morning in a white dress.” He orders, pointing at you with the cigarette held hand. “We are getting married.”

You stare at him for several seconds. “You’re fucking joking, right?” You choke. He stares back at you and you laugh, throwing your head back. Your chortles echo off of the walls of his office until you notice he’s not joking. “You’re not joking.” You choke again, “you’re not joking. Why- what the hell, Tovar? Explain.” You demand, shifting closer to his desk.

“You want to keep your job?” Pero growls, shooting you a dark look. “Fuckers from immigration are trying to deport me. You’re a citizen. We get married, I can stay and you can keep singing in my club.” He snorts. “And I don’t have to worry about you wanting to stay married after I get my green card.”

You shake your head, “I could go and get another job in another club. It’s the 60s. Women have freedom. I don’t have to be married and shoved into a kitchen anymore. I could easily get another job.” You scoff, unable to believe he has the gall to demand you marry him. Pero picks up his gun and aims it at you, making your eyes widen, “you can’t easily get another life.” Your stomach twists at the look in his eyes, cold and emotionless like he could pull the trigger and carry on about his day. If you don’t do what he wants, you’re dead. “O-okay. I- I- I’ll do it.” You whisper, eyes still fixed on the gun that you know has killed many men.

It should upset him that you would believe that he would shoot you, but it doesn’t. He’s getting his way and that’s all that matters. “Tomorrow.” He growls, slowly setting the gun down. “We get married so that prick can kiss my ass when he comes back to try to kick me out.” He smirks and takes a drag off his cigarette. “You can go finish your songs now.”

You narrow your eyes at him, knowing that you’ll do everything you can to make his life hell when you’re his wife. He doesn’t know what he’s signed himself up for. You won’t be some little wife cooking his meals and cleaning his apartment. You stand up and spin on your heel, not saying another word as you leave his office and go back to the stage but not before grabbing another glass of vodka soda. 

****

You sigh as you stand there, the only white dress you own goes down to your calves and it sways as you stand in the club, waiting for Pero who is late. He walks in and you huff,  “you’re late.” He chuckles and you hate that you like how he looks in the blue suit with his hair slicked back. He looks good. “I had to celebrate my last night of freedom.” He smirks and you scoff, “like you’re not going to fuck every whore from here to Harlem anyway.” You shake your head and grab your purse, “can we get this over with?”

“Eager to be my wife, hermosa?” There are witnesses milling around, so Pero grabs your waist and hauls you close to him. He can see the way your eyes widen slightly, your breath catching in surprise. You’re scared of him and while it might annoy him later, right now it’s useful. “Don’t worry, soon you’’ll be mi esposa and I will have you in bed screaming my name.” In order for Pero to stay, immigration must believe that the marriage is real, so he’s already sent guys over to your apartment to pack it up. You will come live with him.

“Screaming to get away from you.” You whisper, knowing you need to sell this otherwise you’ll be going to jail and he will be deported. Or you’ll be killed. His arms tighten around your waist in warning. You lean in to caress his cheek. He’s shaved and you press your lips to his cheek, your eyes open as you do it. “Let’s go get hitched.” You say with a smile on your face but your eyes burn into his.

The entire process is fairly simple, and it doesn’t take long before the two of you are standing in front of a magistrate. Pero holding you close and plastering a happy look on his normally dower face to prove that he’s wanting to do this and not just stay in the country.

You recite your vows, your hands on his and you are surprised when you see the ring he slides onto your finger. You didn’t imagine he’d have one and he hands you the one for you to slide onto his left hand. The magistrate declares you husband and wife and you don’t get a chance to prepare yourself as he leans in to press his lips to yours.

Your lips are soft, much softer than he imagined and the surprise parting them allows him to take complete control and kiss you like he wants to. His tongue sweeps into your mouth to take possession and map the inside with strong, determined strokes while your fingers dig into the jacket of his suit.

Your mind blanks when he kisses you so thoroughly. You never imagined him to be such a good kisser and you are disappointed when he pulls back until he offers you a cocky smirk that makes you barely refrain from glaring at him. After you sign the marriage certificate and Pero hands over some money, “to expedite this beautiful creature having my last name,” you leave the courthouse. “So, I guess I’ll wait until we meet with the immigration agent. I’ll see you at work.” You say, adjusting your purse and spinning on your heel to get away from him.

Pero snorts and grabs your arm, dragging you back against him. “Where are you going?” He demands. “I cannot have someone thinking this marriage is a sham.” You snort but he smirks at you. “My men are packing up your dresses and panties, hermosa. You live with me.”

Your eyes widen, “living with you? Fuck no.” You hiss and he shakes his head, “you have no choice. Unless you want to be six feet under.” His smile drops and you swallow harshly, “fine but I get my own room. I’m not sleeping with you. Or fucking you.” You growl, pressing your chest against his to show him he can’t control you.

While he might not have expected you to fuck him, Pero doesn’t like rejection. He likes to be the one to call the shots. Grabbing your chin, he hisses at you, his dark eyes narrowing in annoyance. “Who said I wanted you?” He spits. “I like soft women, warm and pliant, not a cunt so cold it would freeze my dick off.”

You wince at the way he grips your chin, keeping you close to him. “You have plenty of options you can pay for.” You hiss at him, “you can’t buy me. I’m doing this to stay alive.” You remind him, “let’s go. I want to change out of this dress and prepare for my set tonight.”

Pero lets go of your chin and snorts as he steps back from you. “That’s right.” He straightens his suit jacket and pins you with a dark look, almost glaring at you. “Remember who you are married to now.” He warns you. “I won’t tolerate you being a whore while you wear that ring.”

You want to spit back at him that you’re a virgin. You wanted to give yourself to the man you love but it looks like that won’t be happening anytime soon. You snort, “you don’t own me.” You try to rebel even under the dire circumstances. “That’s where you’re wrong, esposa. I do.” Pero declares and you huff, striding off to his waiting car without looking back at him.

Pero watches you walk away, admiring your ass and hissing between his teeth. You’ve made it very clear that you cannot stand him, yet out of all the women at the club, you are the one he craves. To tame you, temper you. Or maybe he just likes the spit and vinegar you give him, instead of just falling to his feet. Now he has you in name, but he cannot touch you.

You slide into the car and Pero follows, immediately lighting up a smoke when the car pulls away from the curb. “Can you open the window?” You ask and he rolls his eyes, rolling down the window but he exhales away from you. When you arrive at his apartment building, you’re impressed. It’s in a nice part of town. Certainly nicer than your place in Brooklyn, and you sigh when the driver opens your door after he pulls up to the curb. You walk in and the doorman greets you. “Harold, this is my new wife.” Pero introduces you, the cigarette long snubbed out but the smoke clings to his jacket. “Wife?” Harold is shocked and you lean into Pero to sell it, “we wanted to keep it private, you know, because of the baby.” You say, sliding your hand down to your belly and Pero hisses through his smile. “Come on, esposa, let’s get you settled.” He says and his grip on your waist tightens as you head into the elevator. “What the fuck did you say that for?” He growls and you giggle, leaning against the wall. “Wanted to have some fun.” You smirk and Pero shakes his head, “he’s going to know when you don’t get bigger.” He points out and you shrug, “shit happens. He doesn’t need to know.”

Pero lets go of you and stares at the numbers on the elevator as it goes up. Annoyed that you caused more drama than you needed to. Starting to regret this, but then he remembers that he has to have you as his wife, for his future here in America. “Mierda.” He hisses to himself and sighs when the door opens on the top floor, the penthouse suite of the building. “Home sweet home, esposa.”

Your eyes widen as you step out of the elevator, a view of Central Park ahead of the floor to ceiling windows and you are in awe of the luxury he lives in. "No wonder you don't want to leave." You murmur, taking note of the expensive furniture. You walk into the living room and find the door to the kitchen, gasping at the beautiful appliances and space that is almost the same size as your apartment. "Oh, I want to cook in here." You squeal, excited by the fridge and the top of the range stove.

Pero smirks, shucking his jacket as he listens to you go through the kitchen, exclaiming over the latest modern appliances. Even the microwave with the turntable and an electric can opener. He chuckles at your change of attitude but he doesn’t point out that it’s a wife’s job to make meals for her husband, knowing you wouldn’t appreciate that.

You turn to look at Pero as he walks over to the bar cart, "you want a drink?" He asks and you nod, "gonna need one after this morning." You take the glass of whiskey after Pero pours it into a crystal glass. You take a sip, "so where is my room?" You ask and he doesn't say a word as he escorts you down the hall to your bedroom, your things already there. "How did you- never mind." You scoff, knowing he's powerful enough to move mountains...just not regarding his immigration status.

He had anticipated you asking how the hell your things are all here, but you apparently figured it out. He smirks slightly and pulls out a key from his pocket to set it down on the table near the door. “This gives you access to the penthouse.” He tells you. “Don’t lose it.”

You turn to look at Pero after he sets the key down, “I won’t lose it.” You promise and he stares at you. Those dark brown eyes. If he wasn’t such a demanding asshole who chased women, you’d want him, but he’s too wild to tame. “I’m going to settle in.” You declare, hoping he gets the hint, and he does. You shut the door behind him and sit down on the bed. Your ring catches the light and you wonder what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into.

It’s strange to have a woman in his apartment. He never has before. Not to sleep. His liaisons normally happened at the club or a lesser apartment he kept for activities, preferring to keep his actual home for himself. He pours himself another drink and listens to you start to move things around in your room and he huffs to himself. Deciding that he should just go back to the club and work so he won’t dwell on the fact that he has a wife and a sham marriage.

****

When you arrive at the club, Tovar is already there. He left hours ago and you thought you had to figure out how to get to the club on your own but you’re soon told by the doorman that there’s a car waiting for you. You arrive at the club and walk in, his ring on your hand, and your head high when you see Pero talking to the bartender, a glass of whiskey in his hand. You walk over to him, “hello, husband.” You greet him, wondering if he’s told the rest of the staff about his new status.

Pero lifts a brow, unsure if you were wishing for the staff to know and glances back at the bartender to see his reaction. “Vodka soda for my wife.” He grunts at the man. “Twist of lime.” He knows your drink, watching you more often than you realize and turn back towards you. “I’ve moved your set up.” He tells you. “You’re performing first tonight.”

“Why?” You huff, knowing that the crowd is always difficult for the first person on stage. He has the jazz trio who usually go first and they warm up the crowd for you. You hate being first. Frank hands you your drink, his eyes flicking down to the ring on your hand and he raises his eyebrows. You shake your head and sip the drink, turning back towards your husband for his answer.

Of course you would be annoyed. “So you can leave early.” He had thought he was doing you a favor, letting you leave the smoky club before the wee hours of the morning when you normally finish, but you aren’t appreciative.

You huff, knowing he only wants you to leave early so he can chase Rita or one of the cocktail waitresses around. “Fine. I’ll go on first.” You down the rest of your drink and make your way to the stage, speaking with the band who are confused that you’re up first. “Boss’s orders.” You tell them and a few minutes later, you’re singing. You can feel his eyes on you, watching you from the front row. It’s not Pero watching you. It’s another man. His eyes burning into you, licking his lips as you croon to the song. You try to ignore him, finishing up the first set and you make your way over to the bar for another drink. 

“You sing beautifully.” A voice coos in your ear and you turn your head to see the man from the front row of tables. “Thank you.” You offer him a polite smile and he leans closer. “Can I get you a drink?” He asks and you hold up your still full glass. “Already got one.” He nods, “maybe when you’re done with that.” He gestures to Frank to get him another round. “So…what’s a beautiful woman like you, doing singing in a club? You should be in an expensive home, my home, having my babies.” He smirks, thinking you should be fawning over him but you wrinkle your nose. 

“I have a rich husband.” You flash your ring at him and he grabs your hand, “that’s a piece of tin. I could get you a bigger rock. And a bigger cock.” He chuckles, his other hand finding your back and his palm slowly slides down until it’s on your ass.

Pero had watched from his booth until the stranger had ordered you a drink. Growling under his breath when the bastard sends you a cocky smirk that makes him get up and start striding over to you. Feeling jealous and territorial over you, even if you are only his wife on paper. You flash him the ring but the bastard just scoffs. His mistake is when he touches you, making Pero see red as the hand reaches your ass and he decides he will break every one of the bastard’s fingers. Not bothering with niceties, he grabs his hand off your ass, not saying a word until the man turns in surprise and then cries out in pain when Pero snaps his wrist before letting go and slamming his fist into his smug face. “Didn’t your mamá teach you not to touch another man’s wife?” He growls, grabbing his neck and slamming his face into the bar before he can react, spewing blood everywhere. “My wife.”

You stumble back in shock, eyes wide at the blood splattering on the counter and Pero doesn’t stop. He gestures to Frank, “get it for me.” He demands and Frank nods, not hesitating to grab the hammer from under the counter. Tovar grabs the hand that touched you, keeping it pinned to the counter and the man cries out in pain from his broken wrist. “You need to learn you should not touch what doesn’t belong to you, cabrón.” Pero growls and grabs the hammer, bringing it down on the fingers of the man who dared to touch you. You can’t breathe, can’t do anything but watch as the violence continues, your husband smashing the man’s digits with the hammer while he screams in agony. 

“Pero.” You choke out, knowing you shouldn’t say anything for fear of your own safety but you need to stop this before he kills him. “Enough. That’s enough.”

Pero doesn’t stop until he has smashed all five fingers with the hammer, aware that the music has stopped and everyone is gapping in horror at the scene. The man’s hand is mangled, bloodied - ruined. His dark eyes slide over to your terrified face but he looks back at the bastard who has pissed his pants as he sags against the bar. Pero drops the hammer and grabs his jacket lapels to yank him closer, ignoring the man’s whimpers of terror and begging for his life. He’s pathetic and no longer the cocky braggart of a few minutes earlier. “Touch her again and I will kill you.” Pero hisses. “Look at her and I will carve your eyes out of your skull.” Sobbing, the man shakes his head. “I won’t, I won’t, please- just- just let me go.” Pero grunts in disgust and pushes him away, letting him fall to the floor as his men surround him. “Get him out of here.” He growls and grabs your hand to drag you towards his office.

You let him drag you to his office, still in shock from the display of violence. You’ve seen hints of it. A punch here, a shove there, but you’ve never seen anything like that. Pero shuts the door behind you, his chest heaving and you stare at him. “Why did you do that? I had it under control.”

“His hand was on your ass and you had it under control?” Pero roars, grabbing you by the arms and pushing you against his desk. Crowding you with his body and trying to get himself under control but he’s failing. Losing his mind at the idea of that bastard touching you when not even he has touched your ass. “No one touches my wife.” He growls, crashing his lips to yours violently.

You should push him away, you should scream at him, but the possessive way he kisses you, the way he owns you. It has you pushing yourself against him, gripping the labels of his jacket as you kiss him back.

He would stop if you pushed him away. That’s what he tells himself as he grabs your hips and throws you up onto the surface of his desk. Hungry for you, his veins still swimming with violence and passion, fusing together and coming out as lust. His cock is already hard and he drags your panties down after pushing your slinky dress up to your waist. Pero’s tongue maps your mouth brutally and he swallows your moans and grunts as he unbuckles his belt with one hand, the other between your thighs and pushing two fingers inside your cunt.

Your cry echoes off the walls of his office as he pushes two thick digits into your shamefully wet pussy. You should push him away, tell him no, but you can’t. His display, his animalistic claim over you has you needing more and when his fingers curl in your pussy, you gush with need and desire for your newly minted husband. “Fuck me.” You beg, not knowing what you’re asking for other than to feel more of him.

Your words snap what little self control he has. Growling as he tears his lips away from yours, he bites along your jaw and down your throat as he pulls his cock out of his trousers, the same ones he had worn when he married you and slots himself between your thighs. He doesn’t ease into you, he can’t. He drives into you with one harsh, demanding thrust and groans your name as he claims you.

Your scream is smothered as you bury your face in his neck, the pain of his intrusion fading after a few moments but he doesn’t stop, pulling out to thrust into you without giving you a second but you cling to him. The pain fading and you moan when he starts to feel good as he moves inside of you.

“You’re mine.” He hisses in your ear. “My woman, my wife.” He knows that after this moment of insanity, you will be spitting and striking at him again, pushing him away. For now, right now, you are his to take. To protect. His lips continue to kiss and his teeth continue to nip your skin. Gorging himself on you while he fucks the tightest little cunt he’s ever had. Groaning your name when you flutter around him, it just makes him fuck you harder, the desk shaking under you from the intensity of his thrusts.

Your nails dig into his back as you slide your hands behind his back under his jacket. His cock pistons in and out of you, his eyes black as he stares at you, words of possession falling from his lips and you shouldn’t find this as hot as you do. He’s an animal but your walls are taking him eagerly, gushing around him with each moan of your name. Your hands let go of him and you lay back on his desk, arching your back as you knock the pen holder and papers from the surface, your eyes closing as the pleasure builds in your belly, his pelvis rubbing just right against your clit in this new angle.

You are gorgeous and pliant under him. Yielding to him in a way he never suspected and he can’t even stop to tell you how sexy you are. Grunting as he holds tight to your hips and uses you as an anchor. He watches you, wanting to push more of those moans out of your pretty mouth as he rocks into you. Looking down to watch his cock push in and out of your cunt, he twitches and ramps up the pace, knowing he will cum soon. 

Your hands find purchase of the edge of his expensive oak desk, your chest pushed up and heaving as he fucks you hard. Any venom you had for him seemed to leave your body as soon as he starts fucking you. Your thighs start to shake and he grabs them, pushing them back towards your stomach, sinking even deeper inside of you. “Oh shit!” You cry when he hits something indescribable inside of you. “To-Tovar. I’m going to - I think it’s-” You can barely speak as his hips hit the back of your thighs and seconds later, you’re clamping down on his cock.

He hisses, eyes rolling back as your walls grip his cock like a vice, feeling the tingle at the base of his spine. Happy that he had made you cum and soak his cock before his own orgasm. You are so tight around him that he can only give another three thrusts before he is pushing deep, kissing your womb with his cock as he starts to paint your walls with his seed. Grunting and groaning as he fills you. 

You open your eyes to watch him as he cums, jaw clenched and eyelashes fluttering on his cheeks as his cum fills you up. You relax, slumping on his desk as he rocks through it until he stops, his hands caressing up your thighs and you shift to sit up as soon as he pulls out. You stand on wobbly legs, his hands gripping your waist to steady you and you manage to pull together enough balance to bend down and grab your panties, pulling them up your legs to keep his cum from dripping down your thighs. “I should - I need to get back to my set.” You choke out. His hand comes to grab yours but you manage to evade his grip, “wait-” He says your name but you’re already slipping out of his office, heading to the bathroom to process the fact that you just had sex with your maniac boss who is now your husband.

Pero frowns as he stares at the door you had left opened, confused by the way you had just run away like he was the devil. You had told him to fuck you, begged him, and now you couldn’t get away from him fast enough. Clenching his jaw, he tucks his cock away and looks down at his hand, the skin bruised on his knuckles from where he punched that asshole. “Hijo de puta.” He hisses, storming out of the office in need of a drink.

You step back on stage after you clean yourself up, another drink in hand, and you are starting your song as Pero stalks through the club to sit in the booth where William is. Your voice seems boxy in your ears as you try to focus on your performance but you’re constantly watching Pero. You shouldn’t have given in to him. Nothing good can come of it. He will be on to the next shiny thing when he’s done with you. When he got what he wanted: his citizenship.

“You made a scene.” Willam comments as Pero downs his first drink and then motions to Rita to quickly bring him another. He cuts his eyes back over at his friend and reaches out to take the Irishman’s drink. “So?” He grunts and William smirks. “Because he touched her?” He asks, making Pero growl, “she’s my wife. You would have killed him if she was Lin Mae.” That comment just makes the other man laugh even more. 

“So why is she watching you now and you are drinking like you are trying to forget?” He asks as the waitress brings another drink over with a sultry smile for the Spaniard that he completely ignores. She pouts as she saunters off and Pero stares down at his drink for a moment before he answers. “Fucked her.” he admits, tossing back the drink in one gulp.

William keeps his expression neutral to not tip you off since you’re watching but his eyes widen slightly, “you fucked her? You know…shit, brother. She’s not the type you fuck and walk away from.” William shakes his head and Pero snorts, slamming the glass on the table. “She walked away from me. Left before I could even tuck my cock away.” 

William sighs, “you better know what you’re doing. She’s not the kind of woman you fuck around. Not like Rita. She’s too good for you.”

His eyes find you up on the stage again, crooning into the microphone and he sighs. “I know it, cabrón.” He admits quietly. “I’ve always known it, that’s why I wanted her.” He pushes his drink away and leans back in his booth, watching you from the shadows as he was meant to do. You had the spotlight on you, he lived in darkness. He had let the darkness touch you because of his own greed and he couldn’t do that again. Not when you wanted to leave just as soon as he got his green card.  

You finish your set and take your place at the bar again, ordering a club soda, no vodka. You need a clear head. Pero doesn’t come over to the bar, and thankfully no one else does. You see Rita rush down the hall to Pero’s office and sigh, knowing that she will always be in his head. She’s a good time and you’re…complicated. When you don’t see Pero, you decide to head home. Grabbing your purse, you figure you’ll use the subway, leave the car for Tovar since he will probably be home late. You have a bath after you arrive back at his penthouse, soaking in the tub with a cigarette to relax and clean yourself after he fucked you. You’re sore, aching, and the hot water does wonders.

“Come on baby- I can suck your cock.” Rita pouts and licks her lips as Pero pushes her away. He had gone to his office after your performance, not interested in watching the band and the clingy bitch had followed him inside. Obviously not getting the hint when he told her to bring him a drink from the bar, she continues to annoy him. Wanting more than he is willing to give. 

“I’m married.” Pero shakes his head, waving her towards the door. “I’m not fucking you again, or letting you suck my cock.” 

“Come on baby. Don’t be like that. She doesn’t have to know. Why the hell did you marry that cold bitch? You could’ve had me. Whenever you wanted. I would’ve given you the world. Kids. Blowjobs.” She smirks, shifting to sit on his desk. “All you have to do is ask and I’ll be yours. You can keep your little wife but I want to be your whore.”

Pero narrows his eyes dangerously, pissed off that she would insult you. “Get the fuck out of my office.” He hisses. “You’re fired.” Her mouth drops open in shock and she gasps. “What? Pero- baby-” Slamming his fist on the desk, he shoots out of his chair. “Get out!” He shouts, making her flinch in fear. “Don’t ever fucking come back!”

She scrambles off of his desk, knowing the look in his eyes is one to not be fucked with. He’d never hurt a woman, his mamá would smack him from her grave, but Rita doesn’t know that as she rushes out of the office, getting her purse and practically sprinting out of the club in tears.

William walks into his office right after Rita runs out, staring at Pero like he’s lost his mind. “Tell me you didn’t-” He starts but the Spaniard cuts him off. “Fire her? Yes, I did.” He grunts, gathering his papers and stuffing them into a rarely used briefcase. “Cut her last check, pay her cash, I don’t fucking care, but she doesn’t set foot back in his club again.” 

William nods, “I’ll get the guys to give her cash. Jesus Christ, my friend. You have got it bad. You need to get this under control before you lose it all. Go talk to her. I’ll make sure everything is closed up here.”

He grunts, sure that his friend is being over dramatic. He’s not going to lose anything. Because of his marriage to you, he will be able to keep what he’s worked hard to build. Still, he nods and strides out of his office, needing to get home and find out why the fuck you ran away from him.

You are in a robe, preparing a cup of tea when Pero arrives home. Much earlier than you thought he would, and he sets his briefcase down on the kitchen counter. “Rita didn’t take long then.” You snort, pouring out the hot water from the kettle as Pero stands there.

He ignores the barb that you throw at him, watching as you make yourself a cup of tea. “You left without letting me know.” He grunts, wondering why you get under his skin as much as you do. Looking softer than you had before, he likes this look on you.

You turn to look at him, “I figured you were busy and I didn’t want to disturb you. I saw Rita heading into your office so I didn’t want to walk in on something I don’t want to see.” You shake your head, turning back to your tea, putting the tea bag in. “Do you need something?” You ask, not looking back over at your new husband.

He frowns at your back, unsure why you keep bringing up Rita like he was still fucking the girl. It was one time. “She’s gone.” He announces, “fired.” Moving over to the cabinet, he gets out another tea cup for himself since you didn’t offer him a cup.

You feel guilty that she’s fired but then you remember how she would brag about sleeping with the boss. “You fired her? She - she used to say that she was sucking your cock every day.” You hand him a tea bag, unable to be too cold to not help him with a cup of tea.

Pero snorts and pours the still hot water from the kettle into his cup and adds the tea bag with two cubes of sugar. “I fucked her one time. In the coat room.” He admits. “She didn’t suck my cock everyday and when she pushed me to fuck her tonight, I fired her.”

You shake your head, knowing you shouldn’t care. Not this much. “Why? She was offering herself to you on a platter. Most men would have taken it.” You stir your tea, looking down at the cup. 

“I’m not most men. I’m married.” 

You frown and look at him, “I never expected you to be faithful.” 

He scoffs, “my mamá would kill me. She taught me that you don’t hit women, you don’t cheat on your wife, and you protect what’s yours.” Your eyebrows raised, shocked at the way he has more morality than most men around. “I- I never would’ve - you seem like the type to love ‘em and leave ‘em.”

“When I was single, I fucked who I wanted.” He shrugged slightly and doesn’t mentioned that he wanted to fuck you and he had to marry you in order to do that. “While you had to marry me and despise me, I will not shame you with affairs.” He promises. “But I expect the same.” That is a warning for you and just a statement of fact. Anyone you slept with, he would kill.

You scoff, “you don’t need to worry about that. I’m not - that isn’t something I do. I was a virgin.” You confess and he frowns, “who did you lose your innocence to?” He asks, wondering why you’re telling him this. “You.” You whisper, staring at your cup of tea.

Pero freezes, dropping his spoon into his cup with a clatter and stares at you in horror. “I- you gave me your innocence on my fucking desk?” He rasps out, feeling horrible that he had not known nor shown you any kind of tenderness when he had touched you. “I- Mierda. I should have treated you better.”

You shake your head, “I didn’t protest and - and I wanted to see what all the fuss is about. I was saving myself for the man I love but with marrying you, it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen anytime soon so I figured I’d get it over with.” You shrug like it doesn’t mean anything.

Your words hit him like a bucket of water being dropped over his head. A stark reminder that you hate him. “Right.” He grunts, picking up his cup. “Now you know what it’s all about.” He spits before he turns and walks out of the kitchen stiffly.

You watch him leave and lean against the counter. You don’t know how you’re going to survive being married to Pero. He’s complicated and you regret your words. You sip your cup of tea and decide to take it back to your room. You’re Mrs. Tovar now and you will need to navigate your complicated faux marriage.

****

“I have to say that I’m surprised to see this.” Mr. Taylor’s lips are pressed thin in displeasure as he inspects the marriage certificate thoroughly, as if expecting to find it to be a forgery. “I was unaware you were engaged.” Pero arches a brow and leans back in his chair, taking this meeting in his office and blows a puff of smoke up into the air. “You did not ask.” He points out, his other arm wrapping around your waist and tugging you closer on the arm of his chair. “But you cannot deny I have taste.”

“You certainly do, Mr. Tovar.” Mr. Taylor says, his eyes trailing along your form and Pero pulls you closer, his possessive nature on display. “He’s too sweet.” You murmur, leaning in to press your lips to Pero’s turning his cheek to ensure you can kiss him properly. His tongue pushes into your mouth and you pull back a second later, pecking his lips. “So…this has become a green card situation. One that I find to be very convenient since this is dated after our meeting.” 

Mr. Taylor tilts his head as he looks at you, “would you say your husband is a communist?” He asks and you scoff, “a communist? Mr. Taylor, my husband escaped Spain to avoid being in Franco’s army. He is a pure patriot to our country. He loves America. He loves freedom. He would never be a commie. He abhors the very ideology.” You explain, shaking your head and Mr. Taylor hums, his eyes darting back to Pero. “Very well. It seems that things are in order but any word of you joining a local sector of the communist party or if I get a whiff of anything amiss, I’ll be back.” He promises, signing a piece of paper and handing it to Pero.

Pero snorts and snatches the paper away from the little prick. “Then it will be a pleasure to never see your face again.” He grunts. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

Mr. Taylor stands, packing up his briefcase and you offer him a hand, helping him pack up. “Thank you. My husband is very happy to stay here and I’m happy he is. Especially for our family.” You say, sliding your hand down to your stomach. “Congratulations.” The immigration officer says and makes a quick exit from Pero’s office. 

When he’s certain the man is gone, Pero tuts, “can you stop telling people you’re pregnant?” He huffs, taking another puff of his cigarette. “Why? It sealed the deal. He won’t deport the father of an American born baby.” You raise your eyebrows, “just selling our happy union, baby.” You coo sarcastically. Ever since that night that Pero took your virginity, you’ve barely talked. Just a few words here and there between meals and going to the club.

He snorts and shakes his head. He knows you aren’t pregnant, the box of feminine napkins in your bathroom making it clear you had bled since he had taken your innocence. He had been surprised to be disappointed by that knowledge but he hadn’t said a word. “I should get back to work.” He stubs out the cigarette and looks back down at the paper Mr. Taylor had left. “Are you singing the last set tonight?” He hadn’t taken charge of your times since that first night, giving you control over when you perform.

You nod, “yes. Me and the guys have been working on some new songs. I think the crowd will love them.” You say, grabbing your purse, “so I guess we will be divorced as soon as your green card comes in.” You walk out of his office before he responds, not wanting to hear the answer.

Slumping down into the chair, Pero hisses a curse and reaches for his cigarettes again. The silent stalemate between you two is apparently still ongoing and he doesn’t know what to do. He hates that you can’t wait to be away from him. Hates that you are counting down the days until you are no longer his wife.

You are nearly done with your set when your husband comes out of his office to sit down with William in their normal booth. He gestures for a drink to be brought over and you start the song you’ve been practicing with the guys. “Looking out to the morning rain.” You sing, your eyes sweeping across the crowd as you croon the song, “‘cause you make me feel like a natural woman.” You sing the line and look over at Pero.

His grip of his glass tightens as you seem to sing to him. Leaning forward and watching you with the intensity of a starving man hunting his dinner.  The low whistle beside him turns into an amused chuckle but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you. “Still obsessed with your wife, I see.” William teases Pero. “Have you told her you love her?” He asks, making the Spaniard snort. “She wouldn’t believe me.” He murmurs, still watching you as you continue to sing the ballad. “Waiting to divorce me.”

You finish the song to a roar of applause, your eyes still on Pero as he stares at you and your set is over. You take a bow and thank the band before you walk off the stage, making your way over to Frank to get another drink. You feel him before you see him, his body warm behind you as he leans over to snub his cigarette out in the ashtray on the counter. “Are you ready to go home?” You ask him, turning your head to look at your husband. You’ve been traveling back and forth together since that night you took the subway.

“Yes.” Pero nods and glances at the bartender to make sure he doesn’t need anything. “Are you changing, or wearing your dress home?” Some nights you want to change, some nights you want to get home as quickly as possible.

“I’ll wear it home. I’m ready to get out of here. It’s been a long day.” You tell him and he nods, getting one of the girls to grab your coat and purse while you finish your water. William comes over to bid you goodnight, “have fun, kids.” He winks and heads over to see his beautiful wife who is running security. You snort at the Irishman and Pero holds your coat up for you to slide your arms into it. "Thank you." You murmur and he nods, escorting you outside to his awaiting car. "Did you like the new set?" You ask when he is beside you, the streets passing by.

“It was moving.” He loved it, but he also hated it, knowing it wasn’t for him. You hate him and he’s honestly expecting you to quit the club after you divorce him. “The crowd loved it. You did a great job.”

“Thank you.” You murmur, looking out of the window. You wanted him to say he loved it. It was for him. During your time living with Pero, you’ve come to discover the smallest details about him. He donates money to the families of the neighborhood he lived in when he first came to the States. They are struggling so he helps them out. He has noticed what food and drinks you like, ensuring that the housekeeper has them stocked for you at all times, even your toiletries. He listens to the radio intensely, especially love ballads. Something you never expected. Each day, he chips away at the hatred you had for him and shows you the man he is beneath the harsh exterior, the shell he’s had to build to survive in this city. You could even dare say you’re falling for him. That’s what makes this so sad. He will ask you for a divorce as soon as he’s able and you’ll be back in your tiny apartment in Brooklyn wondering what could’ve been if this was real.

The drive is silent and Pero wishes you would say something. Even if it’s to rage at him. The politely stiff, cold semblance of manners between the two of you irritates him. Making him long for the days that you would rage and spit at him. He drums his fingers on the car door and sighs when it pulls up in front of the apartment building. Neither one of you speaks on the elevator, and when the doors open to the penthouse, you move to step out. “Are you hungry?” Pero asks, breaking the silence and making you turn towards him. “I’m hungry. Thinking about making something to eat.”

You nod, “yes. Starving. I didn’t eat lunch because I was rushing to get my hair done for when Mr. Taylor arrived. I wanted to look my best for him.” You confess, “and for you. As your wife…pretend wife.” You add, making your way through the penthouse to the kitchen after kicking off your heels in the hall.

He hates when you make little comments about being his pretend wife. Rubbing it in his face that you don’t want to be around him but he forced you to. Feeling guilty because you are so obviously unhappy even living in the most luxurious apartment he could give you. He follows you and shakes his head. “You go change.” He shrugs out of his suit jacket and starts to unbutton his sleeves. “I will make us dinner. I know you want to get out of your dress.” You told him once that you enjoy dressing up but you preferred being comfortable and he agrees with you. You look gorgeous in the shorts and little shirts you wear around the apartment. Liking it better when you wear no makeup.

“Thanks.” You make your way to your bedroom, taking off your jewelry and you reach behind you to try and pull down the zipper of your dress. You’d barely managed to get it on earlier in the day. “Pero, can you help me?” You call out, grunting as you try again to pull the zipper down but failing.

Pero had been heating up the pan, the chopped vegetables and chicken the housekeeper had prepared labeled in the Tupperware. He sets everything down and walks towards your bedroom. He has stayed away from your bedroom and it’s the first time he’s been inside since you’ve moved in. Your back is to him and you look over your shoulder, almost giving him a come hither look that makes his cock twitch. “Your dress, hermosa?”

“Yeah. I zipped myself into it. Can’t get myself out of it.” You chuckle softly and turn your head so he can see the zip at the nape of your neck. His fingers grip the zipper and slowly he pulls it down. You can feel his warm breath on your back as your skin is exposed, his knuckles dragging along your spine as he pulls the zip down. “Thank you.” You whisper, closing your eyes at how close he is to you, you can feel the warmth from his body.

“You’re welcome.” He murmurs softly, resisting the urge to caress your waist. He is already half hard and steps back. “Chicken and vegetables good?” He asks, wanting to make sure you just don’t want some eggs or something.

You nod, "that's good. I'm starving." You say and let the dress drop. He is your husband so you don't care if he sees your bare back and underwear. You walk over to the dresser to grab some shorts and a t-shirt, feeling his eyes on you. "Are you going to make dinner?" You ask, turning to look at him after you pull the t-shirt over your head.

“Yes.” Pero spins on his heel and rushes out of your bedroom, cock pressing against the zipper of his trousers and he reminds himself that you haven’t wanted him to touch you since that one night he took your virginity. He goes back to the kitchen and moves the pan back to the flame.

You sigh when he leaves your bedroom and you head into the ensuite to wash off your makeup. By the time you arrive back in the kitchen, dinner is cooked and waiting on a plate for you. "Thank you." You smile at Pero, "this looks great." You take a bite and groan, starving after a long day at work and you practically devour the meal. Pero remains silent, watching you while he eats his food. "That was great. Thanks baby." You say without even thinking about it.

Pero nearly chokes on the bite of chicken, coughing slightly and he wonders if you are trying to torment him tonight. “You are welcomed.” He grunts and tries to not look at you, knowing he will stare at your pretty, bare face and want to touch you. He's thought about nothing else but showing you how he should have made your first time, but you’ve not wanted anything to do with him. Not that he blames you.

You stare at him, watching him eat, and it hits you. You love him. You don't know when that happened when you used to think the man was a monster, beating men up without a thought, and the womanizing. He hasn't been with another woman since you've been married, as per his word, and you believe him. Your eyes widen at the revelation and Pero is none the wiser. "When do you think your paperwork will come through for the green card?" You ask, leaning back against your chair.

Pero has a secret and it’s one that will piss you off. He’s had the paperwork for a week. He’s sat on it because he doesn’t want to divorce you yet. Hoping that some kind of miracle will happen to make you realize he would be a good man to you, you will never believe that. He huffs slightly and shrugs. “Hopefully this week. You will be happy, eh?” He smirks slightly, hiding the way it makes his heart hurt. “Have your freedom back and now that you are no longer pure, you can fuck who you want.”

Your heart shatters at his words, knowing he has used you completely. Your body, your heart, your nationality. “Yeah. I can fuck Johnny the new bassist. He keeps asking me to come over to his place.” You say, venom in your voice as you jab back at your husband.

Pero’s fork clatters to the plate and he pushes back from the counter so hard the barstool scrapes on the floor. Not caring, he dumps the dish into the sink, ignoring the way the plate breaks and he whirls around. “I’m going back to the club.” He growls.

“Why? So you can find someone to fuck? The virgin wasn’t enough for you? I gave you my virginity because I - because I wanted you and you’ve never looked at me since. Haven’t touched me even though I just practically stripped off in front of you. I know English isn’t your first language but fuck, do I need to spell it out for you? I wanted you to touch me. I have - I have been hot and cold but that’s only because I didn’t think you wanted me again and now you have the audacity to be mad because I want someone to want me.” You finish your rant, chest heaving as you stare at him.

Pero clenches his jaw, breathing heavily and he growls when he rushes forward and grabs you. “You think I don’t want you?” He hisses, shaking you slightly. “You hate me. You tell me every chance you get that you cannot wait to be rid of me and I hate that I was not gentle with you.” He confesses. “That I didn’t treat you like the fucking exquisite creature you are.”

Your eyes widen at his confession and you shake your head, “I don’t hate you. I never hated you. I hated how you behaved. The skirt chasing, the way you would speak to me. I never hated you. I - shit - you know what I hate now? The fact that I love you.” You choke, “and I thought you were the one who wanted the divorce. That you wanted to be rid of me so you could go back to your ways.”

“I chased skirts because I couldn’t have you.” He tells you. “I’m not a good man. I’m a killer, a thief, a liar, but you are the only woman I wanted so badly I would lie to her to have.” Your brow furrows in confusion and Pero shrugs. “Would have never laid a hand on you if you had refused to marry me.” He confesses.

You stare at him, absorbing his words, and you can’t help it. “You are an idiot.” You surge forward to press your lips to his, your hands cupping his cheeks and you press your body against his, wanting him to know how you feel.

Pero grunts in surprise, expecting you to hit him, not kiss him. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you impossibly tight against his body and kissing you back with a hunger that shows you every time he’s ever thought about you.

You moan into his mouth, your hands sliding up to mess up his slicked back hair, your tongue sliding against his. You’ve thought of him every night since the night he took you on his desk. “Pero.” You whimper when his lips slide along your jaw, “I don’t care about - about - you being a good man. I just want you. The good and the bad. You’re a good man. You don’t let people see it but I do. I want you.”

Pero pulls back and he stares into your eyes. “Let me take you to bed, hermosa.” He begs softly. “Show you how I can touch you. How you deserve to be loved.”

​​You nod, “take me to bed, esposo.” You order, sliding your hands down to start unbuttoning his shirt, you want to see all of him. You want to strip him down and have him on a bed instead of his desk.

He bites his lips and watches you so he doesn’t grab you up and carry you into the bedroom to immediately undress you. “I love you.” He murmurs quietly, his eyes dark.

Your breath catches at his confession. Something you never thought you’d hear him say. “I love you.” You murmur back, caressing his chest once his shirt is unbuttoned. “I want you to make love to me, like a husband does.”

Nodding, he reaches for your hand and leads you towards the master bedroom. His bedroom. He wants you there. “I have never had sex in this apartment.” He tells you softly, hoping you understand the meaning behind it. “You are the only woman to be in this bed.”

Your heart thumps at the news and you smile, leaning in to kiss his clavicle once you’re in his bedroom. “I love you, baby. I need you.” You whimper, sliding your hand lower from his chest so you can squeeze his cock through his pants.

Pero groans and grabs your hand. “No, hermosa.” He growls softly. “You are my precious little virgin.” He tells you with a smirk. “You are going to strip off your clothes and spread your thighs so I can eat your pretty cunt.”

His words make you shudder with lust and you nod, letting go of him and stepping back to reach for the hem of your shirt. You pull it over your head to expose your tits to his gaze for the first time.

“Fuck those are pretty tits.” Pero groans, reaching down and palming his cock. “My wife is gorgeous and I am a lucky bastard.” He will try to give you sweet words, knowing you need them.

You love his compliment so you push your shorts down your legs along with your panties, stepping out of them to stand naked in front of him for the first time. “You are.” You smirk, “and so am I.” You walk backwards to his bed, crooking your finger at him before you lay down on his sheets. “Come on, show me what you got.”

Shrugging off his shirt, Pero drops it onto the floor and unbuckles his belt. Sliding it out of the loops and smirking as he watches you as he bunches the belt in his hand. “I should beat you.” He growls playfully. “For teasing me. Taunting me everyday.”

You scoff, “teasing you? I haven’t done anything. I’ve been a good girl.” You shift to sit up on your elbows. “You wouldn’t dare beat me. I’d get William to kick your ass.” You tease, spreading your legs to show him your pussy.

“Your perfume.” Pero groans, flicking open his pants to relieve the pressure. “It fills my apartment, driving me crazy. Your face, clean and make-up free is beautiful.” He reaches out and grabs your ankle, kneeling on the bed.

“Pero.” You look up at him as he hovers over you, his dark eyes burning into yours as his hand trails along your calf. “I want you. I need you.” You murmur, wanting him to know exactly how you feel.

He smirks as he nods. “You have me, hermosa.” He coos, fingers sliding over your knees and up your thighs. Humming as he combs through the neat patch of hair covering your cunt. “Now let me show you what I’m going to do with you.”

You moan when his fingers slide through your folds and your head tilts back, your eyes closing at how he’s making you feel already. “Baby.” You whimper when his fingers rub your clit. You’re already wet for him, you need more from him.

“I’ll take care of you.” Pero promises, flattening himself onto the bed and pushing your thighs farther apart. “I promise.” Winking at you, he lowers his mouth to your cunt and slides his tongue through your folds.

“Oh my - shit.” You hiss when his hot tongue flicks over your clit. “That - that feels amazing.” You confess, sliding back on your elbows to lay flat and you look up at the ceiling as his tongue laps at your cunt. You’ve never experienced this before and it feels better than any book has described it to be.

He hums, curling his tongue around your clit and flicks it sharply. Watching your tits heave and your hips rock down. You are exquisite and he’s eager to taste more. Wrapping his arms around your thighs, he holds you open and licks deeper into your cunt.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, a moan escaping your lips as his tongue pushes into your cunt, curling while his nose presses against your clit. “Shit. You - it feels so good. Keep - keep going.” You order, feeling powerful that this powerful man is between your thighs, worshiping you.

He’s not stopping. Nothing in the world would have pulled him away from your cunt right now. He growls into your folds before he pushes his tongue deep into your cunt and presses his nose to your clit.

You cry out, thighs trying to press against his head but he keeps your legs open for him so he can tongue fuck you. His nose presses against your clit and he moves his head from side to side.

He wants to devour you, to completely overwhelm you and make you cry out. He groans and doubles down on how vigorously he licks into you.

“Shit. Pe-Pero. Oh God. I’m - it’s good. So good. Oh baby, I’m gonna - fuck!” You cry out, thighs shaking as you cum, soaking his chin as you fall apart under his tongue.

Pero groans, lapping up every drop of your orgasm with the slow flicks of his tongue. Working you through the release until your moans turn breathless and you are squirming under his tongue.

Your fingers pull on his hair, “come here.” You order and he reluctantly pulls back from your pussy and he shifts up your body. His lips pressing kisses along your stomach until he’s taking your nipple into his mouth. You reach down to squeeze his cock through his pants, wanting to see all of him. “I want to see all of you, baby.”

It makes his smirk turn even more wicked and he pulls up to his knees to open up his pants the rest of the way. Standing on the bed and pushing down his trousers and briefs together to kick off.

Your eyes widen at the sight of his impressive length, uncut, and throbbing. You shift onto your knees, your eyes on him as you grip his cock, pushing the foreskin down so you can flick your tongue over the leaking slit. His groan emboldens you and you wrap your lips around the head, taking him deeper into your mouth:

Pero groans your name, pulling his hips back and making you whine softly. "You should not." He pants quietly. "I won't last."

You pout after you let his cock drop from your mouth. He shifts to kneel, grabbing your waist to lift you up onto his pillows and your hands caress his back, feeling his muscles move as he kneels between your hips. “I love you.” You murmur, “my husband.”

He hums, caressing your waist and he gazes down at you softly. "I love you too, esposa." He leans down and presses his lips to yours. "Now, I will make love to you." He whispers against your lips as he rolls the foreskin back and lines up to slowly sink inside you. Taking his time and pushing in a fraction of an inch at a time.

You moan as he pushes into you. You’re wet enough to take him but there’s still a slight pinch from the girth of his cock. “Oh.” You exhale, eyes closing as he pushes deep, rocking into you inch by inch until his hips are pressing against your thighs, your legs wrapped around him.

"You are so tight." He groans, softly, pushing his arms around your body and pulling you close. "I should have known you were pure."

You caress his shoulders up to his hair, tangling your fingers in to drag his face to yours, pressing your lips to his. His cock twitches inside of you and you whimper into his mouth when he pushes your leg higher up his hip so he can sink deeper inside of you.

Pero groans and kisses along your jaw. Slowly rocking into you and setting a sedate pace. Making love to you rather than fucking you. Kissing every inch of your skin that he can reach while he fills you.

He's taking over your senses, consuming your body with his and you moan when he picks up the pace a little. "Yes. Oh shit. You feel so good, my love. Can't believe - can't believe we wasted so much time. Could've been fucking each other."

He chuckles quietly and nuzzles into your neck gently. “I love you, mi amor.” He murmurs, loving how soft you are for him right now, how you are moaning his name.

He's so different from the man who roughly took you on his desk after destroying another man's hand. This Pero is gentle and loving, a man you're proud to call yours, and you rock your hips up to meet his, finding the rhythm he has set.

The violence is still there, simmering under the surface but he would never hurt you. He would kill for you, hurt on your behalf, but he would never put you through any kind of pain.

His jaw clenches when you start to flutter around his cock. His pelvis drops so he is grinding against your clit, and you grab his hand bringing it to your neck. You want him to squeeze, to show you that he'd never hurt you but he's capable of killing others who would do you harm.

His eyes widen and he nearly drags his hand away but you make a sound of protest. Making him keep his hand there and he starts to squeeze ever so lightly.

You moan when he starts to squeeze, giving you what you want. To know that he'd never hurt you, never do anything to harm you, has you clenching around his cock. You're so close.

You are like a vice around his cock and Pero groans your name, enjoying how dirty you are. How filthy his innocent little wife is. “I could snap your neck right now.” He growls, squeezing a little harder.

His words send you over the edge. The knowledge that he could kill you but wouldn't, has you soaking his cock and you moan his name, shaking beneath him as you cum.

It’s the most beautiful thing that he’s ever seen. Watching you fall apart under him while he slowly rocks in and out of you. Sliding his hand from your neck to your cheek, cupping it gently. “That’s it, hermosa. Cum for me.”

You shudder under him, closing your eyes when the pleasure overtakes your body, and you whimper his name as he works you through it. He slows down, in no rush for this to be over, and you catch your breath. "I want to ride you." You murmur, pushing on his chest slightly.

“Really?” He groans at the idea and slowly pulls out of you. Turning onto his back and reaching for you again. Eager to touch you as much as he can now that things are different between you.

You shift, straddling his thighs and you reach between you, gripping his cock. You lift up to position him at your entrance and you slowly sink down onto him. He feels so much bigger in this position and you gasp, "goddamn." You murmur, "you gotta- show me what to do." You request, not wanting to disappoint him.

You could just sit on his cock and he would be happy, but he slowly starts to grind you down into him. Holding your hips and rocking you onto his cock and twitching inside you. “Fuck, amor.” He grits out. “So tight like this. My wife, riding my cock like a whore.”

You playfully slap his cheek, "only yours. Your whore." You smirk and lean down to kiss him, changing the angle inside of you, and you moan against his lips. You rock back onto him, picking up the movement from his guidance, and you gasp when he smacks your ass cheek.

He chuckles quietly and slaps your ass again. “Ride me then.” He grunts. “Make yourself cum on my cock.” He smirks. “Tomorrow you can ride me at the club. Sit on my cock while I do paperwork.”

"Yesss. Want everyone to know you're mine." You confess, shifting to sit up straight. Your hands on his chest as you rock your hips. "Fuck, Pero. This - it's so good." You confess, throwing your head back. Pero surges up, his hands on your back as his lips wrap around your nipple. He bites and soothes with his tongue, making you cry out. "Fuck baby. I - shit." You choke, your fingers tangling in his hair. His hand slides between you to rub your clit and you're gone. Shaking above him, you clamp down on his cock while he rubs your clit to work you through it.

Pero groans against your breast and takes over. The way you cum for him has him chasing his own end. Bracing his feet, he thrusts up into you harshly. “Te amo, esposa. I love you.” Pero starts to babble, losing control of his mouth. “You’re mine. Always mine. Never letting you go. Didn’t- didn’t want to tell you I have my paperwork. Didn’t want you to leave me.” He presses his face to your chest and moans your name, pushing deep and filling you with his seed in hot, pulsing waves of pleasure.

You collapse against him, panting to try and catch your breath as he fills you up and he kisses along your neck, relaxing beneath you. You take a few moments to recover until you are pulling back to look at him, “wait…you’ve had the paperwork?” You ask, a frown on your face.

Pero’s eyes slide away from you guiltily and he huffs slightly. “My paperwork came in last week.” He confesses, knowing you will be upset at him. “My green card is in the safe here in the apartment.”

You push back from him, sitting up, and you shake your head. "Why didn't you tell me?" You ask, pissed at him for lying to you. "I - I thought you'd leave me. I thought you'd want to divorce and I wanted to delay the inevitable." He confesses, "I didn't want to endure the heartbreak." You stare at his remorseful expression, those dark eyes soft with emotion and you forgive him. His actions were bad, but his intentions were good. "You stupid bastard." You murmur, cupping his cheeks as you lean down to kiss his lips. "No more lies. No more secrets. Otherwise, we are over. I can't handle your lies. I can handle everything else."

“Honesty.” Pero promises, holding the back of your neck to drag your lips back to his once more. He has lied to get you to marry him, hidden his true intentions from you, nearly killed a man for touching you - but the best thing of all is that he has managed to steal your heart. Pero Tovar is a dangerous man, but you are the songbird that has tamed him. He is yours.

[irisskies]

Congrats on 1k mom 💗 You’re the best writer there is.

Tarot Submission:

The Devil Card w/ Joel Miller (56|post outbreak) 😈

Something about this man being tempted then giving into his lust for you and getting so addicted and unable to stop just hits different.

Throw in the smut baby. You know what I like. 😏

thank you, my love!

the devil - upright

temptation, addiction, sexuality, powerful attraction

title: siren song

pairing: post-outbreak!joel miller x female reader AND post-outbreak!tommy miller x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 3201

summary:

Staying with Tommy in Jackson comes with one caveat - the temptation of you in the bedroom next door.

content warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), post-outbreak in jackson, don't ask me where maria and ellie are in all of this, not a threesome fic, voyeurism - overhearing someone having sex, masturbation, dirty talk, praise, teasing, billiards as a plot device, dubcon - joel going into your room while he thinks you're asleep but you're not, kinda perv joel, dominant joel, rough sex, oral sex (f receiving), pussy slapping, unprotected p in v, creampie, no use of y/n. let me know if i missed anything!

The first time Joel Miller sees you is in Tommy’s kitchen wearing nothing more than a pair of panties and a t-shirt, sitting on the counter with your legs swinging against the cabinet as you regard him with keen eyes over the rim of your coffee cup. Tommy doesn’t seem the least bit surprised by the scene.

“This is my brother, Joel,” Tommy says, introducing you by name. “He’s goin’ to be stayin’ in the other spare room while we work on gettin’ a house setup for him.”

“She live here, too?” Joel asks. Tommy’s interrupted by you hopping off the counter.

“She does. That a problem?” You reply. Joel fights to keep his gaze level with yours, to not let his eyes wander to the hard points of your nipples pressed against your shirt or over your legs and your barely clothed pussy.

“No problem at all, darlin’.” 

A grin spreads across your face, a wicked gleam in your eye that has the hair on the back of Joel’s neck prickling with unease. You turn to set your empty mug in the sink, and his gaze drops to the curve of your ass in a brief moment of weakness. 

“See you around, Joel,” you say, stepping past both men and heading for the stairs, hips swaying. When you’ve disappeared from view, Joel looks to Tommy and finds his younger brother staring after you, eyes dark. 

“You with her?” Joel asks, voice rough. Tommy smirks.

“Sometimes.”

________

Joel lies awake in bed, staring into the darkness and waiting for sleep to consume him. He feels himself about to drift off, eyes growing heavy, when he hears a noise through the wall by his head, the wall he shares with the room you are staying in. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter, planning to ignore it.

“Fuck!”

“Quiet, baby, we’re not alone anymore.”

The sound of his brother’s voice is followed by a muffled whimper that goes straight to Joel’s cock. He turns on his back, sleeping the last thing on his mind now as more moans drift through the wall to his room. He palms his hardening length, biting his lip to hold back the moan that echoes yours.

“Tommy, please!” 

“Always so polite when you want somethin’, huh?” 

Joel reaches his hand into his sleep pants, wrapping his hand around his cock with a bitten off groan. He gives himself a few rough strokes, straining to hear more from the room next door. Your little noises grow louder, Tommy’s warning a lost cause. Joel’s eyes flutter shut as he pumps his cock, hips chasing his palm, and he imagines himself in the room with you instead of Tommy.

He’d lay himself between your legs and lap at your cunt like a starving man, tongue circling your clit before dipping inside of you as you writhe beneath him. He would slip a finger inside of your aching hole, pumping it slowly and dragging it across your front wall in tandem with the attention from his tongue on your clit. When you would beg him for more, he’d be gracious enough to work another finger inside of you, stretching you open for him.

“Tommy, come on, stop teasing. Need you to fuck me.”

Joel bites his fist to hold back the groan that claws up his throat. He imagines himself hearing that plea first hand, pulling his fingers free from your dripping wet pussy and bringing them to your lips, a silent demand for you to lick them clean. Only when he’s satisfied would he grip his cock, pressing it to your entrance and sliding each thick inch inside as slowly as he can, driving you wild.

The sound of flesh against flesh joins his fantasy, the dull thud of your bed against the wall like a metronome for his hand over his cock. He thinks about how you would look beneath him, fucked out and cock drunk as he pounded into you.

“God, Tommy, yes, just like that!”

Joel’s vision of you claws at his shoulders in desperation, crying out his name as your cunt flutters around him, squeezing him deliciously. His hips pump frantically now as he chases his orgasm, biting into his knuckle so hard the taste of copper floods his tongue.

“Fuck, yes, yes, I’m gonna cum!”

Joel spills over his hand with a gasp, working himself through it with a loose fist. The only sound he can hear now is the rush of his blood in his ears as his heart pounds a frantic rhythm in his chest.

It’s quiet now, the sound of your moans just an imprint on the ether. Joel’s eyelids grow heavy as his breathing returns to normal.

Sleep comes to him quickly after that.

________

You’re in the kitchen again the next morning when Joel shuffles in. You’re dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt this time, much to Joel’s relief. He’s already dreading looking you in the eye after what he heard and did last night, the last thing he needs is the additional temptation.

You wordlessly pass him an empty mug from the cupboard. He can feel your eyes on him as he pours himself coffee and takes a sip. When he finally meets your eyes, you’re smirking.

“Sleep well, Joel?”

He nearly spits his coffee. “Yeah, slept fine.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want anything to disturb you,” you tell him, patting his shoulder before you leave the kitchen. 

That feeling of unease returns to him again as he stares after your retreating figure.

________

It takes two weeks for Joel’s sanity to start fraying at the edges. 

He’s two glasses of whiskey deep at the Tipsy Bison, pretending he’s not watching you play pool across the bar. You’re bent over the table to line up your shot, hips swaying enticingly. You shoot, cue ball careening off the edge of the table and into a pocket. You hang your head and laugh as your opponent gives you a hard time. When you look up, your eyes lock on him and you wave him over.

Joel’s feeling just crazy enough to obey.

“You play at all, Joel?” You ask as he approaches, hand on your cocked hip as you lean on the cue stick. 

“Have before. Been a while,” he grunts in reply. His short answers don’t deter you.

“Well, you got any tips? I can’t lose to Jeremy again.”

Joel’s eyes flick to Jeremy. The younger man looks away. He’s seen this kid on patrol before, all confident young swagger. He may have already given him a ration of shit for doing some stupid posturing while out on shift.

He returns his attention to you and your expectant gaze. Tossing back the rest of his drink and setting the glass on an empty table, he takes the cue stick from you.

Joel circles the table, eyeing the options. Picking his spot, he hinges at his hips and lays his left hand on the green felt, tilting his thumb up and resting the cue stick in the channel between his thumb and forefinger.

He lines up his shot, drawing his right arm back before shooting forward, knocking the cue ball into the solid dark red ‘7’ ball, sinking it into a pocket.

“Okay, you gotta show me how to do that,” you say as he returns to your side. His shoulder brushes yours as he stands beside you, waiting for Jeremy to take his turn. 

When the cue ball settles, you look to him for guidance. Assessing the table, he nudges you towards the most advantageous corner. 

“You’re gonna aim for the green one there,” he tells you, pointing in the direction of the green ‘6’ ball positioned in a prime spot. You lean over, just as Joel did, but your legs are too close together, your hips too far from the table.

Without thinking, Joel wraps his hands around your hips, using a foot to knock your feet further apart. He presses a hand between your shoulder blades, forcing your body closer to the table. He leans over you, his hips flush to your ass as he stretches his left arm along yours and demonstrates the position of his fingers for the cue stick.

“Now draw back,” Joel instructs. Your hips shift against him as you do and he bites back a moan, his cock twitching in his jeans. “And let it fly.”

You hit the cue ball into your intended target, sinking it in a pocket. Joel stands as you turn to face him in your excitement, the position pressing you so close your chest brushes his when you inhale sharply.

“Good shot,” he murmurs, eyes dipping to your parted lips. 

You smile at him, and he knows he’s been caught just by the gleam in your eye. 

“Thanks,” you murmur. “Guess I’ll try the next one by myself.”

You’re turned back to the table before he can respond. He watches you expertly position yourself for the shot, tapping another solid ball into a pocket. Your next shot hits against two solids, sending them both into separate pockets. 

You go three moves without missing before you land the cue ball at a disadvantageous angle. As Jeremy lines up his shot, your gaze flicks to Joel.

The smirk on your face tells him everything he needs to know.

________

Joel lies awake in bed as the sounds from your room fade, silence settling over him once more. He hears the faint click of your door being shut a few minutes later, signaling Tommy’s left your room.

His cock is hard as a rock, tenting his sleep pants obscenely, a wet spot forming on the fabric. He palms himself, hissing at the friction. Closing his eyes, he conjures up an image of you bent over the pool table, ass in the air and glistening cunt on display for him. You beg him to touch you, to give you some sort of relief, but he holds back.

The feel of his hand around his cock brings hardly any relief. He groans in frustration, bringing his hands to his face and pressing the heel of his palms to his eyes, trying to erase the image of you from his mind.

It’s not enough. 

Joel gets up from the bed, pacing, hoping the movement will distract him enough. He tries to think of mundane things, like his to-do list for the morning or the patrol report he has to write or even baseball stats from a lifetime ago, anything to take his mind off the image of you naked and begging for him, making those same sounds that plague his memories.

He’s got a hand on the doorknob before he realizes what he’s doing, turning it slowly and slipping out the gap in the door. He approaches your door, the only sound in the hall is his labored breathing as he grips the handle.

Joel opens your door slowly, easing inside like a shadow. Your beside lamp is still on, bathing the room in a warm glow that allows him to easily find the shape of you in bed, curled up on your side with your bare back facing him. 

He moves closer, until he’s standing at the edge of the bed. He trails a finger down the smooth skin of your arm, watching as your muscles jump at the contact. He’s playing with fire here. He knows that what he’s doing is wrong, but he can’t help himself. The softness of your skin is a thousand times more addicting than the noises you make that replay on a loop in his mind. 

Joel’s finger nudges the edge of the sheet at your waist, drawing it back with careful movements until he’s exposed the curve of your ass, your pussy just barely visible. His mouth waters at the sight and he palms his cock, biting back a groan.

You wiggle around and Joel freezes, adrenaline coursing through his veins. You turn over onto your back, eyes wide open and a serene smile on your lips.

“Was wondering when you’d give in,” you murmur. You reach your arms above your head, the move drawing Joel’s attention to your breasts, your nipples already tight points. “You’re a bit of a perv, aren’t you? Coming in here after your brother fucked me, all turned on. Touching me.” Your hand reaches out, fingers ghosting over his abdomen and trailing down his cock. His eyes flutter shut as he lets out a pained noise. “You wanna know what Tommy does to me? While you’re in there with just your hand, listening to me cum?”

Joel’s breath is coming in harsh pants now as he opens his eyes to watch you, your hands coming up to knead your breasts and pull at your nipples.

“He always starts with my tits,” you say. “Loves ‘em. Grabbing them, biting them, licking them. God, it feels so good, Joel.”

Your hands slide down your tummy. “Then, when he’s gotten me all wet from just playing with my tits, he’ll tease me with his fingers.”

Joel’s knees feel weak as he watches your hand dip between your thighs, your back arching from the bed as you swirl your fingers through your slick. You raise your hand, fingers glistening in the dim light.

“You want a taste, Joel?” You ask, holding your hand out to him. 

He leans forward, eyes glued to yours as he takes your fingers between his lips, the earthy taste of you exploding across his taste buds and making him groan. He plants one knee on the bed, then the other, kneeling beside you now as he licks your fingers clean.

“Good boy,” you murmur when you pull your hand back. His cock twitches at the praise.

“Tommy’s gentle. He likes to get me warmed up for his cock,” you continue, sliding your spit slick fingers into your entrance. “You wouldn’t be gentle, though, would you, Joel?”

“I’d fuckin’ ruin you,” Joel growls. You moan, loud and unrestrained, head tipped back against the mattress and your fingers pumping at a rapid pace. The sound of it is music to his ears.

“When he’s got me all stretched around his fingers,” you finally say, voice breathy and fucked out, “he’ll eat my pussy ‘til I’m begging him to fuck me.”

Joel knows the sound of that. Your desperate pleas for Tommy’s cock, the ones that end in a gasp as his brother puts you out of your misery. 

He reaches out, fingers wrapping around your wrist and forcing your hand to still. He takes a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth.

“You think this is a silly little game, huh?” He asks, pressing your arm up by your head. “Teasin’ me for weeks?”

Your eyes go wide as he crawls between your legs, wrapping his hands beneath your thighs and pressing your knees up towards your chest, spreading you wide for his hungry gaze. 

“Look at me,” Joel commands. He licks a broad stripe through your folds, a moan spilling from your lips that bleeds into a litany of curses and pleas as he eats your cunt like a man starved, messy and deep. His tongue dips in your fluttering hole before dragging back up to lavish your clit with attention. He sucks the hard nub, rolling it between his lips as you thrash beneath him and fight against his iron grip.

“Fuck, Joel, so good,” you cry, fingers tangling in his hair. He groans at the feel of your nails on his scalp, squeezing his hands harder around your thighs. “I’m gonna cum!”

“I didn’t say you could,” Joel says as he pulls away abruptly, releasing one of your thighs and using his hand to slap your pussy, right over your clit. The move earns him a surprised shout, your body jerking in his hold.

Joel grabs you by your hips, twisting you until you’re face down on the bed. He hikes your ass up high, landing a smack to one cheek for good measure and reveling in the whine you give him in response.

“Stay still,” he demands, shoving his sleep pants and boxers down his thighs, freeing his aching cock. He notches the thick head at your entrance, sliding in the barest inch. “Feel that, baby?”

“Joel,” you cry. “Please!”

“Please, what?”

“Fuck me! Ruin me!”

Joel slams in deep, fingers pressing bruises into your hips from how tightly he’s holding you. He doesn’t bother letting you adjust, his rhythm a punishment for your teasing and torment. This is nothing like the slow, maddening fuck he’d imagined. He’s rough, primal, aggressive as he thrusts into you, deep as you can take him.

Your moans are muffled against the mattress in this position and that just won’t do. He’s gone weeks hearing them through the wall, he wants them directly in his ear now. He leans over you, dragging you up by the shoulder so that you’re on your knees with your back to his chest, looping his other arm around your ribs and gripping your breast roughly in his hand.

“Joel!” You sob, head leaning back towards his shoulder and putting your faces close. He tilts his lips to yours, the kiss messy and desperate as he slides through your fluttering heat.

“Cum for me,” he grunts, holding your face against his with a hand around your throat. “Cum all over my cock, baby.”

He can feel you tighten around him, your moans reaching a crescendo that he recognizes intimately. You shake in his hold, the slide of him inside of you slicker than before with your release.

“Tell me, baby, does Tommy ever cum in this perfect cunt?” He asks. You shake your head and he grins, biting into your shoulder roughly, making you shout. “You were just waitin’ for me to come around and fill this little pussy up, huh?”

You’re boneless in his arms but you give a weak little nod. “Please, Joel, want you to fill me up.”

Your words are the final nail in his coffin, his orgasm hitting him with a burst of light across his vision as he groans into your ear, hips pressing tight to yours as he spills inside of you. 

________

The next morning, Joel wakes to an empty bed in a room he doesn’t recognize, sleep pants and boxers still tangled around his thighs. He pulls them up and rolls from the bed, leaving the room and following the scent of coffee.

Both you and Tommy are in the kitchen, laughing when he shuffles in. You hop from the counter and bring a mug over to him, settling it in his hands.

“How’d you sleep, brother?” Tommy asks. He’s got a shit eating grin on his face, one that matches the smirk you’re trying, and failing, to hide on your own.

“Never better,” Joel says, smiling as you burst into giggles and Tommy claps him on the shoulder.

Tommy wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into a kiss. Joel tugs you out of his hold and against his body, kissing you deeply.

Joel and Tommy are good at sharing, just as brothers always should be.

Want more Joel Miller? Check out my masterlist

[irisskies]

Biology

“Uncle”!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 5.4k

Summary: Joel hurt his back at work, so you've been helping him around the house until he heals.

Content/Warnings: able-bodied, female sex anatomy, and inherently fem!reader. No description of reader, everything is neutral (ex. “your bottoms,” “the curve of you” — nothing is specific in the way “you” are described). Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel in 50s). EXPLICIT MATERIAL PRESENT. HEED THE WARNINGS. WEIRD boundaries are crossed…you're not blood-related to Joel, but you were raised like you were. You call him “uncle.” Pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart, etc.). Pussy pronouns (she). Innocent touches until it isn't. Sexual tension galore. Slight dub-con. Icky Joel. Icky reader. Pussy grinding. Dirty talk. Slight degradation (“bitch” is used only once). Multiple orgasms. P in V unprotected. Reader is on top. Lots of teasing about the nature of yours and Joel’s relationship. If there’s anything that should be up here but I missed or I made any improper tags, please let me know!

A/N: Hi, my loves! This is slightly different than what you’re used to coming from me… All I can say is, you’ve read the warnings! Don’t bite if it is not your flavor! But for those who do like, I really hope you enjoy! And to my love @strang3lov3, thank you for prompting this and encouraging this side of my brain to finally stop hiding in the shadows. And thank you for your eyes on this and the mood board as well. I love you.🩶

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“Hey, hon, when you headin’ over to uncle Joel’s?”

You glance at the timer on the oven. “In about ten minutes after these cookies cool. Need something from me?”

“Can ya grab my toolbox before ya leave? Forgot it there the other day,” he replies. “Figured you could get it since you’re already goin’ there today.”

“Sure thing. It’s not the heavy one, is it? Because I don’t know if that old man’s back is ready for a heavy lift like that yet.” The timer on the oven beeps. You slide on your oven mitts to pull the tray out. “Made two batches by the way. How many you want? I’m taking some to Uncle’s, too.” 

About a week ago, Joel had a contracting accident. Some newbie wasn’t watching the older man’s back as Joel climbed up a wobbly ladder, and the next moment, Joel’s footing slipped. He landed right on his lower back, a piece of wood perched on the ground, sitting at just the right spot on the floor to render him immobile. Tommy, Joel’s younger brother, and your father, his best friend since before you were born, are the only two Joel trusts to get the job done perfectly, so Joel put them two in charge until he heals. 

Bed rest, the doctor had ordered Joel, for at least three weeks. It’s been one so far, but with you offering to be his nurse — one that forces him to stay in bed unless he needs to eat or use the restroom — he thinks he just might be back to work by next week. If you’ll let him, that is. 

“No, it’s the small one, hon, you got it,” your father reassures you. He lovingly slaps his growing belly as the trays hit the kitchen counter. “Y’know, darlin’, ever since you moved back, I’ve been gainin’ some weight. Can’t imagine what you’re doin’ t’ Joel over there.”

Your lip pulls up in a smirk. “Joel is in good hands, y’know. And technically, I don’t have to leave you any,” you say with a challenging brow, pulling the cookie trays out of his reach. 

“No, no, I’m not sayin’ that,” your father’s eyebrows raise in worry. His daily cookie is very important to him. “You can leave me like… five… or six.” 

“I’m just gonna leave you a whole batch. The six are gonna be gone before I even leave the house,” you tell your father as his hand subconsciously reaches for the cookie tray. 

He scoffs, “Ya have no faith in me.”

“So what’s in your hand already?”

“Whatever,” he mumbles, walking away with a mouthful of warm cookie dough and melted milk chocolate chips. 

“Uh huh,” you yell back. “Gonna be leaving in just a sec. I’ll see you later.”

It takes less than ten minutes to get to your uncle’s house. You unlock the door using the spare key he gave you as a teenager, and immediately, nurse mode is activated. 

“Uncle Joel!” You yell, exasperated. He turns around from his place in the kitchen, painfully slow. He’s going to make his back worse. “What do you think you’re doing?” You place the fresh cookies on his dining table along with your keys. You cross your arms angrily for good measure. 

“My coffee’s cold. I was warmin’ it up,” he huffs, annoyed.

“Bed, please.” Your hands find his waist, and you guide him back to his room. “You know I’m here around this time. You didn’t wanna call me first to see where I was?”

You ease him in a sitting position at the edge of his bed. He grunts as his ass meets the mattress. He grumbles his response. “Need to start gettin’ back to everythin’ independently, y’know that, don’tcha?”

“Is your memory going with your back, too, unc?” 

“‘Scuse me?” He looks at you incredulously. 

“Three weeks were the doctor’s orders. Not one,” you tell him, putting your foot down. 

He lays himself down with another wince at the motion, no acknowledgement to your words. God, he’s so stubborn. 

“I’ll go make you a fresh cup,” you tell him, feeling sympathetic for the man. His work is his life, and it’s not going to get any easier with age. 

Making your way back to his kitchen, you wash out the coffee pitcher, replace the grounds and the filter, and do some light cleaning as you wait for the bitter, brown liquid to brew. 

It’s only been five minutes since you returned to the kitchen, and the painful moans and groans from his bedroom have only gotten louder. You search around the place and find the heat pack you bought a few days ago and pop it in the microwave. You grab some pain meds, fill up a glass of water, and just in time, the microwave sings to you, telling you your contents are ready. 

Ignoring the coffee for a moment, you make your way back to Joel’s bedroom. His eyes are closed, but his entire body is tensed up in pain. Poor guy. You knock at his door to catch his attention before entering. “Unc?”

One eye peels open. “Yes, nurse?”

“Funny.” A sarcastic laugh leaves your throat. “Come take these.”

He makes no move to get up. 

You set the painkillers and the water on his bedside table, the heat pack wedged underneath your armpit. You start to reach for Joel to help him up, but he stops you. “I got it,” he grunts. You let him have this win. 

You hand him the glass of water first, then the pills. He swallows the painkillers in one big gulp, swallowing down the rest of the water in another. He eyes the heat pack in your arm. 

“Do you want-”

“Yes,” he says immediately, reaching for the soft warmth. 

“Lay down first, I’ll put it underneath you.”

Without another word, he positions himself. His body jerks when your soft hand slips underneath his back, pushing him to lift a little while you slide the heat underneath. “This okay?”

“Mhm,” he forces out, eyes clamped shut. It’s not okay, you think. 

“How would you feel on your stomach?” you suggest. 

“Dunno. Never tried.”

“Well, then.” You set the heat pack down, and it’s your turn to crawl, uninvited, into his bed. You walk on your knees towards the opposite, unoccupied side, adjusting the pillows in a way you think might be the most comfortable. This isn’t your first rodeo dealing with an old man’s back; you’ve got your dad. This is, however, your first rodeo dealing with an old man more stubborn than a screaming goat not getting his way. “Come on.”

“No.” 

“What do you mean no?” 

“That ain’t gonna be comfortable.”

“How do you know?”

“I jus’ do.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and take a deep breath. “I swear to God. I will flip your ass over myself if I have to.”

“You’re bossy,” he spits.

“So you’ve said.” 

Not giving him a chance to prepare, you hook your one hand at his side and your other on his hip, and you pull him towards you. It doesn’t fully flip him over, but it does the trick in getting him to finish the rest of the action himself — albeit, with a very strained yelp from the back of his throat. 

He groans for a few minutes more as you adjust some flat pillows underneath his belly and then prop the lukewarm heating back right at the base of his spine. You’ll probably have to heat it up in ten minutes again, but it’ll do for now. You stay in your spot for a minute, and already his pained noises begin to subside. 

“Better?” You know it is. You just want him to admit it. 

And when a single huff with zero protests from the grumpy man reverberates around the room, you know you’ve won this round. 

“I’ll go get your coffee now,” you hum. 

A soft rasp of your name has you spinning back around as you reach the room’s threshold. 

“Hm?”

“Thanks,” he tells you. 

“It’s what I’m here for, unc.”

You put his fresh cup of coffee in a thermos this time. You can’t imagine how often he’ll get up being in this position, but at least the freshness will be there with every sip he does end up taking. 

“How’s it going?” You ask him as you set his coffee nearby. You feel the heat pack on his spine, and it’s as you called it to be by now: room temperature. “Want me to reheat it?” 

“‘M okay,” he replies, voice groggy. He must’ve fallen asleep. 

“Okay.” You stand there for a moment. You can tell the heat helped, but his body isn’t entirely relaxed. He’s still tense, as if a nerve or something is being pinched. 

You recall your memory from a while ago before you moved back with your dad. Your brother, who is a mixed martial arts athlete, had a sparring session that hurt his back, nearly in the same area as Joel. He had you running his massage gun over his muscles nearly every night for a month straight. “It needs to uncoil somehow,” he told you. An idea crosses your mind then. 

You saunter to Joel’s en suite bathroom in search of some type of lubricant. Sitting loud and proud on the center of the bathroom counter is a little bottle of Equate’s Personal Liquid Lubricant. Your brain falters for a second, the bottle of lube throwing you off your original plan. That is absolutely not the kind of lubricant you were looking for. Shaking away the image from your mind, you bend down to look in the cabinets underneath. Bingo, a bottle of Aveeno body lotion. This should do. 

You invite yourself onto his bed for the second time today. “Let me give you a massage.”

“What?” His head turns to you now, utterly confused. He definitely heard you wrong, he thinks. 

“Let me give you a massage,” you repeat. “It’ll help.”

A massage actually does sound nice right now. But you’ve been nothing but bossy this last week while Joel lays here helplessly. He’s bored. And he’s had enough. “It ain’t gonna help.”

“How do you know?”

“I jus’ do.”

Jesus. Haven’t you had this conversation before? You mentally slap your forehead. Again, leaving him no other options, you reach for his flannel atop his shoulders and begin to pull them down. 

“Hey, hey, wait, now what in the hell-” He tries to stifle back a laugh as he wriggles in your hold, trying to playfully push you off without hurting himself more in the process. 

You quickly release his clothes, hands up in surrender where he can see them. You’re just realizing now just how forward your action must’ve been. “How am I gonna massage you-” 

The embarrassment written all over your face has Joel tearing up as he tries to hold his wheezing laugh in. With his eyebrow quirked at you, he responds, “If you wanted me naked, kiddo-”

“Jesus, ew! Really?” An unbearable heat spreads across your cheeks. Your eyes are downcast, looking everywhere else but him. “It- it’ll be better if I can directly touch-”

Only then do you feel the bed shaking with his laughter. He’s fucking with you. And here you were, about to offer something that would relieve a whole lot of pain. “Oh, fuck you,” you scoff, pulling yourself up and making your way off of his bed. 

“No, okay, wait,” he laughs, trying to catch his breath. “Jus’ messin’ with you, who am I to deny a massage?” He raises his eyebrows once, twice. Still messing with you, seeing how far his taunting with you can go. 

“You’re disgusting,” you deadpan. 

“‘M not the one tryin’ t’ massage her uncle,” Joel says as he attempts to shrug his shoulders at you.

“I’m gonna leave now.” One foot makes it to the ground before Joel speaks again. 

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, ya can’t take a joke? I’m only messin’ around. Come back. Gonna leave me hangin’? In pain? C’mon, nurse.” His tone falls softer, sweeter. You can hear the shit-eating grin in his words. And, fuck, why is it making you heat even further, in places beyond your face? In places you shouldn’t be?

“Fine,” you relent. “Stop saying weird shit then.” You still can’t look at him. Not after the way your body decided to react in the shift of energy. An abrupt shift of energy, as far as you can tell. 

He’s your dad’s best friend. Your uncle, for crying out loud. Not by blood, but still. There’s never been a feeling beyond that. Sure, you’ve had your silly little school girl crush on him during your young teenage years, but that was your hormones being your hormones. You grew out of them. Even your own father can’t deny the conventional attractiveness of his best friend. 

Plus, suggestive commentary is bound to make anyone feel hot. It’s basic biology. Your response is nothing. It doesn’t mean anything. At least, that’s what you convince yourself of when you climb back into your uncle’s— no, into Joel’s bed, trying to ignore the way your panties stick dutifully against your throbbing core.

Joel leans onto his side as you get yourself situated, unbuttoning the bottom half of his flannel, so you can flip up the bottom to reach his lower back. After the bottom half of the buttons are undone, he lays back on his front. “Here,” he calls your name. “Jus’ lift it up from the bottom.”

You scoot closer to him, standing on your knees, and you reach over to grab the hem of his flannel, pulling it up as gently as possible, exposing just enough to be able to reach the irritated areas. You frown at what you see. Inflamed skin, purples and yellows dancing all across his lower back, forcing him away from the very thing he lives for. He may have been a stubborn bitch this entire week, but that doesn’t stop the sympathy you feel for the man. 

You put some of the lotion in your hand, rubbing it between your two palms to warm it up a little. You place your hand on the side closest to you first, moving in circular motions and adjusting your pressure ever so often. “Let me know when the pressure is good.”

So far he hasn’t said much, a slight groan here, an exhale there. You feel a knot as you move lower, so you increase your pressure. You’re met with a literal moan, and you swear you have to bite back your own vocal response. “Fuck,” he sucks in a sharp breath. “Yeah, jus’ like that, ‘s perfect, darlin’.” 

“Okay,” you squeak, your thighs clenching together to attempt any kind of relief to the heat between your legs. 

After a few more passes over the area — and a few more indulgent, harder presses of your palm to pull more angelic sounds from him — you switch to the other side. Except, at this angle, you don’t really have as good an angle as you did before. Your leg swings over his ass, bracketing him in between your thighs, before you can even register the move your body just made. A soft gasp falls from your lips as you feel the new angle you’ve just given yourself. 

“Joel?” You call sweetly. Innocently.”I- I’m not hurting you or anything, am I?”

Hurting? No. Putting him through Hell? Close enough. 

Joel has done many questionable things in his lifetime. Getting involved with taken (married or otherwise) women, couples who wanted a third… Joel has lived through it all. Mainly in his younger years, but nevertheless. He has done and seen many things. But none of these things have ever included getting a fucking hard on for a girl — a woman? — he practically had a hand in raising. You call him uncle, for crying out loud. 

His physical response means nothing. It’s basic biology. The tender yet skilled touch of your warm hands directly against his even hotter skin, lighting every single nerve ending on fire, forcing the blood to course through his veins, to make its way down south— 

“Christ-” he snarls as you practically sit on him. His mouth shuts instantly as his eyes shoot open. He didn’t mean for that to come out. “Y-yeah,” he corrects. “‘M alright.” 

“Just- just let me know,” you tell him. He can hear the shake in your voice. He can tell biology is doing a number on you, too, based on your tone alone, if the heat engulfing his rear as you try your best not to make contact with it isn’t enough to go by. 

He focuses on his breathing as best he can as your hands push slightly past his jeans, getting underneath the seam of his boxers, and then immediately softening your touch as you run your fingers up his spine, awaking a chill he never knew was possible until now. You rub beyond the exposed area of his lower back, reaching his shoulder blades and entirely up to his shoulders, forcing the flannel to rise with your hands. He’s so broad and warm, and you would absolutely be drooling all over him by now if you weren’t so shocked at how tight his muscles really feel. How has this man not gotten any injuries sooner? How was he still doing all this heavy lifting? You dig the pads of your finger tips further into the thousands of tiny knots you feel, and his body jerks in actual pain this time. 

“God damn, girl,” he snaps. “What are you doin’?” 

“How the fuck do you even function?” You sound genuinely horrified. 

“What-”

“Your shoulders and neck are fucking covered in knots how do you even-” you cut yourself off with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You need to flip over.” 

Fuck. 

“Why?” He asks defensively. 

“I’m gonna break these knots. I need to start from the front.” 

“Ya ain’t gettin’ anywhere near my neck, I swear to God-”

“Quit being stubborn. What did I say earlier? I’m gonna flip you myself if you don’t-”

“Alright, fine, gimme a sec,” he bites. Joel takes a deep breath, at war with himself for how he’s going to handle his next course of action. 

Whatever happens next, there is no avoiding the fact that you will be made aware of the bulging erection between his legs. You can know about it, that’s fine, but the second you make contact, he doesn’t know if he’ll have the strength to control himself. Which is why he rips off the band aid quick. Flipping himself over with you still hovering over him, he tries his best not to touch you. Though, the second he’s comfortable, his focus is on your waist, grabbing you immediately and missing the way your eyes widen at the tenting fabric of his jeans. He pulls you higher up to sit on his lower tummy. 

You squeak out a little gasp as he adjusts you, and fuck it makes the pulsing between his legs even worse. He releases you, bringing his hands back to his sides. 

“Comfortable?” you whisper. You try so hard not to use your voice, worried that it’ll reveal just how turned on you are by this situation you’ve put yourself in. He gives you a single nod, and with that, you lean to grab more lotion. 

The angle you are at forces you to lean the front of your body onto Joel to be able to reach his shoulders. You can feel his body tense underneath you; you can hear his labored breathing as your hands further push away his flannel, working away at each knot. 

You lean forward further, giving yourself the ability to reach just below Joel’s neck. With this action, your hips shift, pressing down against Joel’s belly in a way that sends a sudden jolt of butterflies through your core. Your hands freeze in their movement, breath and fingertips stuttering as your entire face and neck heat up. You sneak a quick glance to Joel, and his eyes are still relaxed. He didn’t notice. 

It takes you a moment to start your movements back up again, but when you do, you can’t help the way you repeat exactly what you did before — allowing yourself another experimental roll of your hips against his soft abdomen. Only this time, you’re way less sly, for the whimper of pleasure you thought you could hide slips right out, right for his sharp ears to take note of. Shit. 

“Y’ alright there?” His eyes are trained on you now; he knows what you just did. Joel sports a quirked eyebrow as he waits for your response. 

“Mhm,” you rush out, ignoring his piercing gaze. 

It takes every ounce of willpower for you to run over the knots in his shoulder again without driving your hips into him, but even the push and pull of your arms is a full body movement, and you feel it. You feel the growing wetness in your core, the growing heartbeat that his bare tummy no doubt can feel now. 

Your body is splayed across him, the warmth of you leaking through your bottoms and onto his hot skin as you pathetically try to play off the fact that you aren’t grinding your wet cunt across him right now. With a rasp of your name, he takes a sharp breath in. “What are ya doin’?” He grunts, pained. Conflicted. 

This is so wrong. But it feels so good. Your arousal — how utterly desperate you are for the older man underneath you — is shone all over your face, brighter than any other feeling of disgust or wrongness you’re trying to convince yourself of. But the internal battle is still there, though, and it forces your hips to come to a full stop. It forces cries of apologies from your lips. It forces regret. 

“I- I’m sorry,” you choke back a sob. “Please, I- this is so wrong, I’m so stupid, uncle, I-” 

God damn it. Joel is too damn hard to deal with this shit now. “Oh, Jesus Christ, will you cut the fuckin’ uncle bullshit?” He finally snaps. His hands spring to life, finding their way up your thighs, tightening once they reach your hips. He forces you to move again. “Ya think I wanna hear that fuckin’ word while you fuckin’ soak me? Huh? While ya rub on me like a fuckin’ bitch in heat?”

“Shit,” you moan, the strength of his hand making the assault against your mound all the more intense. “Joel, please,” you cry, your fingers shaking as you hold onto his chest. 

Your thighs begin to tremble as he maintains a rough pace to your movements, his bed creaking with every shove of your hips against him. His grip on you is one of steel, the pads of his fingers digging into your flesh, no doubt leaving tiny bruises as a reminder of today’s actions. 

He is fucking covered in you — the slick of your desire pooling through your bottoms and into his skin, making each grind smoother. He licks his lips at this, his eyes dark as he drinks you in from above; your own eyes glossy and a sheen of sweat along your skin. “Look at ya, darlin’,” he murmurs, voice low enough to send a fresh wave of arousal pouring from your hole. “Fuckin’ soakin’ me, baby. Needed me that bad, did ya? Was tryin’ t’ tell ya earlier,” he grunts, “Y’know ya just had to ask.” A lazy smirk pulls across his lip. 

You let out a whimper at his words, your hips finally rolling alongside his own guidance, instinctively searching for more friction. “Atta girl,” he groans, “That’s it, fuck- makin’ a fuckin’ mess a’ me, darlin’.” 

You’re panting now, the rhythm and pressure mixed with the filth of his Southern drawl ignites every single nerve ending throughout your body. He watches you with a dark intensity, the brown of his eyes replaced with pure black lust, his eyes unable to stray away from the pleasurable desperation filling your features. 

“Gonna come like this, sweetheart?” He taunts, driving you into him even harder. 

“Mmm- my God, yeah- yes,” you cry out, eyes rolling back as the coil in your belly finally tightens, your breathing ragged as needy moans escape your lips. 

With a final roll of your hips and the utterance of a that’s my girl, the coil finally snaps, pleasure crashing over you, coursing through your veins as you come all over him, your slick unable to stay within the limits of your clothes, leaking and dripping down the sides of him and onto the mattress below. Your thighs convulse around his waist, his hold on you continuing your thrusts, dragging out your orgasm until your own hands find his and rip him away from you.

“Ya ain’t done yet, sugar,” Joel gruffs, grabbing the globes of your ass cheeks and dragging you down, letting you feel his ignored and now raging erection. 

“Never said I was,” you purr, a soft moan blessing his ears at the feel of his bulge against your ass. He can feel your smirk against his chest. 

Body still trembling, Joel lifts your ass in the air, sliding your bottoms down over the curve of your body. The stickiness of your panties pulls off with a wet squelch, the cool air of the room mingling with the wet warmth of your bare pussy, the stark contrast forcing chills to run through your veins. 

“God,” he murmurs as you give a little wiggle of your ass in the air. “Pretty as a peach, huh, darlin’?” He guides you lower, pushing you down onto his bulge. The hardness of him beneath you immediately sends a fiery need to your core. Your hands move on their own as you pull your body up, reaching for the buttons and zipper of his jeans, undoing them with ease despite the eager shake of your hand. You pull the jeans down just enough to let his cock spring free, thick and angry and leaking. 

“Oh, fuck,” you swallow your gasp. “God, I need you so bad,” you whine, already lifting up to line the tip of him to your swollen cunt. 

You sink down with a breathless moan, your head flying back as your hands grip onto his tummy to keep you from buckling. 

Joel’s breathing stutters, his moans filling the air as you practically choke his cock. “Shit- so fuckin- fuckin’ tight.” His hands find their home on the meat of your ass, holding you tight, grounding himself from coming like a damn teenager.

You move slowly at first, savoring the way he feels inside of you, how big he is. God, you don’t think you’ve ever taken anything quite as long and as thick as him. Your heart skips a beat at that, knowing that he’s ruined you for anyone else. 

It isn’t long before the raw need takes over, and you move faster, hips rolling back and forth as you ride him, the wet sound of skin against skin as you alternate to a bounce ever so often. 

Despite the risk of hurting his back even more, he can’t stop himself from gripping you tighter, his nails digging into your flesh as his hips buck up into you, starting their own rhythm, meeting every one of your thrusts. The sensation is overwhelming with the side of him; it’s a perfect mix of pleasure and pain, mixing sweet whines of ecstasy with whines of overstimulation, and it’s the best music to have ever graced his ears. 

“Look at ya,” he grunts. “Fuckin’ made for this, weren’t ya? Fuckin’ made for takin’ this cock, huh, sweetheart?” 

You nod weakly at his words. They send a flutter down your belly to your pussy, and his mouth is all it takes to send you to your second brink of collapse — your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you move, as he drives himself into you without abandon. 

Every thrust pushes you further to the edge, the sting of the stretch, the sensation of being so full — it’s almost too much to bear. He can hear it in the way your cries change. It’s becoming too much. 

“Y’ can take it, sweetheart, almost there,” he grunts. His hands take over in guiding your movements, urging you faster, harder, bringing you both to the cliff’s edge. 

“C’mon, baby, can feel her squeezin’ me, know she wanna come, baby. Breathe, doll, jus’ let go,” he rasps, his words coming in staggered.

The wet tightness of your walls, both the feel and the sound, causes Joel to fall first — a low, guttural groan filling the room as he fills you with his hot, thick spend.

The sensation of him pulsing inside you, unloading everything he’s worth, sends you over your edge, your pussy clenching around his cock as you come, the sensation rippling through you, shredding your vocal cords as you scream out in pleasure. 

Everything goes dark for you, nothing but the fuzzy sound of Joel’s sweet praises at the top of your head as he guides you through your come down. 

“Did so fuckin’ good f’ me, darlin’,” he murmurs. “Sweet girl.”

For an asshole, who knew he could be so sweet? 

You roll off of Joel as soon as your heart steadies, your entire body on fire from all the exertion. You can feel Joel’s body stiffen as you use him for support. His back is killing him right now.

A few moments pass as your eyes slowly start to close, but the deep gruff of your name stops you from dozing. 

You turn your head to the man beside you. “Yes?” 

For the first time today, it’s Joel who can’t make eye contact with you. “Can you, uh… can you-” he clears his throat, trying to rid himself of his awkwardness. “Can you warm up the heat pack again?” 

Your smirk lifts your cheek before you can even try to stop it. “Come again?” 

He lets out a frustrated huff. And he can’t turn away from you. His back is killing him right now. “My back-”

“Yeah, what about your back?” 

“You fuckin’ little shit-”

You giggle as you flip onto your side, your hand holding your head up to get a better look at him. “Your back is hurting, baby? Need me to get the heat pack for you, hm?” 

He doesn’t respond. He just has the deepest, most grumpiest scowl known to man on display. 

“Oh, come on. You need my help, is that it? Need to hear you say it, unc.” You emphasize the last syllable of your sentence, a belly laugh threatening to escape you. 

Oh, two can play at that game. “Yeah, baby, I need your help. I need the help from my beautiful, beautiful niece, hm? My beautiful, needy niece whose pussy gets all soaked jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout me, huh? Gets all wet and needy thinkin’ ‘bout her uncle-”

Your resolve finally snaps, your eyes clamping shut as you cover your ears, loud la la la’s coming from your mouth as you ungraciously roll yourself off of his bed. “Enough, fine! Fine! Fuckin’ nasty,” you groan as you make your way to the kitchen. 

“‘M not the one who started it, sweetheart,” Joel says, a triumphant smile plastered across his cocky face. 

“I made you cookies by the way,” you yell after a beat. “Want one?” 

Joel’s hand reaches for his belly. He doesn’t need one, that’s for sure. “Yeah,” he responds not a second later. 

You come back to his bedroom, heat pack in one hand, no cookie in the other. You hand him the heat pack. You make him adjust it himself. 

“Where’s the cookie?” He asks, a tinge of impatience on his tongue. 

“Oh, I thought you were gonna come down and get it.” 

He looks at you incredulously. 

“I just figured you wanted to start being more independent and all. Given how strenuous you were being a few moments ago,” you offer with a faux innocence.  

“I swear to fuckin’ God, when I get my hands on you-”

“Your hands on me? Yeah? When?” You start making your way out of his bedroom. “Come get me if you wanna show me a lesson. Know you been dying to all week.” 

If he can fuck you the way he did, maybe full-time bed rest isn’t what Joel needs. He needs to stretch and move around; he needs to activate his muscles, especially being on the older side. It really is basic biology.

I would absolutely love to hear what you guys thought of this! Any and all your love and commentary truly keeps me going and motivated even when the writer’s block is at its strongest. Wouldn’t be here without you all. I have so much love in my heart for you! Talk to y’all soon🩶

I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

Leaf divider by @saradika-graphics

[irisskies]

I never see this scene on tumblr and it drives me nuts, so here’s my fave sex scene from soa.

Edited the exposure so you can actually see what’s happening, bc they made this shit so dark you practically have to squint lol.

[irisskies]

She wants a vocal man. A man who will gasp every time he slides inside her and pant like he’s running a marathon because the pussy is just that damn good. A man who lets out a constant “FUCK” because just the feeling of her pussy wrapped around your cock is enough to make you feel like you’re in heaven. A man who isn’t afraid to moan and whisper sweet nothings into her ear knowing it sends chills down her spine and makes her crave you even more. A man who will constantly praise her but also degrade her when the moment is right. A man who will not only brush her hair out of her face when she has his cock in her mouth, but a man who will look into her eyes and tell her she’s the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen. Be vocal man I promise she’ll love it.

[irisskies]

*heavy, bone deep, weary sigh*

Good afternoon Pedro Fandom, breaking news, we have a new fic thief today!

@javishoneyedlocks has stolen from @penvisions

@javishoneyedlocks fic titled "Snapping Teeth"

is @penvisions "Gone to the Dogs"

I am BEGGING y'all do not engage. Please just block.

Pen is the only one who can report for copyright and DMCA her. I will be tagging the people 'Alexia' is following in a reblog.

Repeat: DO NOT ENGAGE. Just block and spread the word!

[irisskies]

crash masterlist [(ex)step-father!marcus moreno x f!reader]

summary: Harboring a secret crush on her step-father would be enough to make any girl a little crazy. Years after your mother leaves him, however, Marcus Moreno is still the one you go to when you need saving. rating: E warnings [individual parts will have more detailed warnings]: step-cest adjacent, daddy kink, age gap (reader is 25 when the story takes place, Marcus is around 50), Missy does not exist in this universe sorry to Missy, mommy issues, daddy issues, Marcus is pretty skeezy but still sweet, voyeurism adjacent, teasing, flirting, both reader and Marcus are pretty manipulative, rough sex, Marcus calls reader lovebug, Marcus explicitly lusts after reader when she's 19 and still his step-daughter, reader can drive a/n: this was originally a long one shot that I decided to break into pieces, mostly so I could add better smut without it being a million words, I'll be entirely honest, but it's all finished. This isn't really for everyone, but it is for me<3

part i part ii - coming 7/8 part iii - coming 7/15

[irisskies]

First look at Pedro Pascal in Gladiator 2