#ONLY ANGEL

[rimunagenius]

Only Angel — K.M

❝ words : 1.5k ❞

❝ warnings : RPF!! , suggestive , body worship , jealous!Kate , fwb theme ❞ (dk if i forgot anything, if i did lmk!)

❝ rimunagenius speaks : sorry this took a literal fortnite to complete LMAO (pls idek if this good :// )…anyways i have summer school bc o my fuck ass chem teacher soooo lowk might take a while to put other stuff out but i’ll try i promise!! ❞

| Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

I saw this angel

I really saw an angel

Kate noticed you on the baseline at every single one of your home games. Your black and gold cheer uniform fitting you insanely perfect. Your short skirt and your form fitting top. You looked so pretty, so beautiful, so angelic, you were truly a distraction sometimes. The way you moved hypnotizing her whenever she wasn't focused on her team. 

Open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see

That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me

I'm just happy getting you stuck in between my teeth

And there's nothing I can do about it

It took about five months of dancing around the physical attraction you both had towards the other before making what was happening between you two something. You both had amazing futures set out for you, establishing yourselves in your sports. You were on track to become a professional cheerleader, NFL cheerteams already inviting you to camps. 

Kate was optimistic that she'd become a prospect in the upcoming draft. Deciding to continue to put all he focus into basketball. So why on earth were you both suddenly trying to pursue something that could be nuclear to your careers. 

Kate had been buried between your legs for the better part of an hour. "Oh my god, Kate. I love you." The initial shock in the declaration immediately set a new tone in the atmosphere that you two had spent months building up. 

Her lips paused the attack on you, eliciting a small sigh from your lips, now accepting the consequences of your own actions. "Im sorry, what?" There was no denying the cultivation of feelings you two began to nurse. There was no point in lying to herself that she didn't feel the same way. 

"Forget it, just please, don't stop." You squirmed under her gaze. Now growing increasingly uncomfortable with the look she seemed to be giving you, and now uncomfortable with the abrupt confession. 

"You know that I can't just drop basketball." She sighed, her forefingers pinching the bridge of her nose. The frustration that immediately began to build within your chest, at her action of dismissing your confession. 

"Alright, whatever. Forget about it, didn't mean it anyways." You sighed heavily, suggestively spreading your legs, signalling her to continue, foregoing any act of bashfullness and self preservation you had to give. 

"No, because we had this conversation. I need to focus on basketball right now. Not to sound rude but you're not in the picture yet. I'm pretty sure I'm not even in the picture for you're life right now." The short tone she took with you was something almost foreign. 

You didn't like the tone, rolling your eyes at her. Suddenly the small smirk you grew accustomed to in this scene, inching it's way onto her face. So over the awkwardness but totally enthralled by the way she manages to manipulate the situation to make  it seem less harsh than it really is, annoys you. She’s so good at making you forget about why you were mad at her when she has that look on her face. Chuckling softly, looking away to your left, you grabbed her blonde hair at the back of her head and shoved her head back down where you both were needing. 

The slight aggression and dominance you took elicited a gravel moan from the depths of her throat. The reverberation could be felt everywhere. You guys just couldn't help but feel the way you felt for each other. 

Broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door

I got splinters in my knuckles crawling across the floor

Couldn't you take home to mother in a skirt that short

But I think that's what I like about it

Kate didn't know what it was but the feeling brewing in her chest from the sight of you with another girl had her on a whole new level. You guys never put a label on what it was between the both of you. You guys just had a common ground.

Thats why she didn't know why she was pounding the living shit our of your door at two in the morning. Team outing at a local bar in Iowa City, invite extended to you from your mutual friends, turned into you leaving with another girl. She was your friend, deciding you were tired of your shoes, opting to go home and drink your own beer without people bothering you and asking if you two were single. Seemed like the most optimal solution. Until you realized that the pounding on your door signaled you forgot to tell Kate. 

Kate had felt the anger and anxiety build up in her the longer her fist repeatedly connected with the wooden door of your apartment. The dread of finding another girl in the apartment where she thought only you two seemed to find yourself in more often then not was unsettling. Mainly because she thought this was going somewhere but you just called it casual. She had you. 

"Jesus Christ, Kate. It's two in the morning, what the fuck are you doing?" You looked at her perplexed, the cold breeze hitting you from the hallway. You wrapped your arms around yourself, the crop top and the short sleep shorts you made yourself comfortable in now suddenly sounding like the worst idea. 

"Who did you leave with?" Is she fucking serious right now? You looked at her like she had suddenly grown two more heads. 

"Are you serious? That's why you came banging on my door at two in the fucking morning? Because you wanted to know who I left the bar with?" The animosity in your voice growing as she continued to keep the straight face she had since you opened the door, but moved on her feet in anticipation. 

"Yeah. Was she a friend or...?" You genuinely laughed at the way she was acting. Two nights ago you had confessed that you loved her accidentally, but truthfully, and all she could say was you weren't what she envisioned herself with in the future. Atleast not yet. So you both decided to continue doing what you have been for the last two months. 

"Like you care?" You scoffed, walking away from the door, letting her in. She closed the door behind her, kicking her shoes off, and hanging her jacket up on the hook next to yours. You walked through the whole apartment, knowing she’d follow. She did. You didn't say a single thing but just look at her while she saw no girl had been in your apartment. 

"She was my friend, Kate. She was in one of my classes and we came here for and she only stayed for like twenty minutes before she walked to her floor." You now stood in the middle of your room, a room Kate had been all too familiar with. 

"That's it?" Kate's brows raised, her body inching closer to yours. 

"Yes. I'm not easy you know." You rolled her eyes, unintentionally getting a rise out of Kate. For some reason she seemed to like when you had an attitude with her. "Don't even think about it, Kate." You looked at her, the knowing gaze her eyes held that your eyes were trained to remember. 

"Why not? You’re always easy for me." Her voice dropping and becoming faint as she slowly reached one hand to your waist. She knew you’d let her have her way. You always did. You were just equally as dirty and needy for Kate as she was for you. She couldn’t take you anywhere…she loved it. She got to have you in private any way she wanted.

"You're seriously asking that after you just stormed into my apartment thinking I was sleeping with another woman when that wasn't the deal we made. The lack of boundaries you seem to have." You sighed as her other hand connected with your waist, pulling you into her chest while her lips started their attack on your neck. 

"Mhm." She hummed softly, planting an open mouthed kiss right below your ear. 

"Kate, are you serious?" You were genuinely shocked that she just forewent her previous accusation against you, and suddenly thinks she'll get lucky tonight. It was slowly working, dammit.

"Why are you still talking, baby?" Her hands on your waist slipped underneath the hem of your crop top, her cold, ringclad fingers, slowly traveling the familiar path that brought her so much pleasure. Her eyes now looking into yours, she smiled before looking at your lips. 

Who were you to resist her when she looked this good? You probably should have but there was no going back after you connected your lips. It didn't take more than two seconds to have her slowly backing you up against the side of your bed, making you fall onto your back. 

You inched your way towards the headboard, you resting neatly on the pillows as you watched her discard her shirt. She got onto the bed, working her way from you bare legs, all the way up your stomach. The way she crawled slowly above you, ravishing you before she intended to tear you apart was so sultry and almost cinematic that you couldn't even breathe. 

Later on, the talk needed to be had. You both would have to unanimously decide to commit to one another. There was nothing casual about the way her lips traveled to every part of your body, with small chants of appraisal leaving her lips, ghosting your skin with goosebumps in their wake...nothing casual about it. 

"You're like an actual angel, baby. Can't get enough of you." Her lips barely articulated the words that she desperately needed to get off her chest, as they tried to kiss you everywhere all at once. You almost didn't catch it when she kissed up the apex of your thighs, mumbling 'mine' over and over again. 

In her eyes, you were literally an angel, needing to be worshipped.

She's an angel

My only angel

[lilystyles]

the sweetest thing.

this a hiatius series written by @lilystyles (a christmas themed fic!!)

y/n is harry's baker roommate with endless optimism and harry is a grumpy journalist who hates christmas, but likes her christmas cookies.

or y/n is harry's roommate and she loves christmas.

grumpy!roommate!journalist!H x sunshine!baker!roommate!reader

* * * * * *

gingerbread at midnight

during a chilly evening at the bakery, harry learns how to make gingerbread. (4.3k)

song for this chapter 'Last Christmas' by Wham.

hey guys i lost inspiration for this fic im sorry maybe next christmas i'll add more!! :(

* * * * * *

happy holidays everyone! <3

[writersblockiskillingme]

Can you please do a Damiano fell in love with his long time friend/band mate (reader) who is the backup singer (bc their voices complement each others perfectly) and writes a song about her and sings it to her on stage, confessing his love. (the other band mates know abt it).

I’m in my delusional era

Only Angel | Damiano David

Pairing: Damiano David x fem!reader (Måneskin bandmate)

Summary: You were in love with him for a very long time, but you didn't know that he loved you back. Until he decided to do something about it.

Warning/s: pet name (angel), just a little bit of good all angst, smut +18, degradation, teasing, prising, dom/sub, few curse words, mentions of alcohol and weed, cigarettes, mentions of one night stands, grammar and spelling mistakes, Google translated Italian (sorry, please tell me in the comments if I made any mistakes so I can fix them)

Author's note: This one's been a long time coming, but enjoy!

I saw this angel

I really saw an angel

Open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see

That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me

I'm just happy getting you stuck in between my teeth

And there's nothing I can do about it

Damiano could still remember the first time he met her.

She was the first singer that Måneskin (Back then just Victoria and Thomas) recruited for the band. He could remember it as if it was yesterday.

His hands were sweating as hell as he walked through the hallway of a "made up", improved studio that belongs to the future, back-then-still-in-making, rock band Måneskin. He remembered how nervous he was, but that nervousness compared to the one he experienced as he walked into the studio was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not a big deal at all.

As he reached his stop, he looked up and saw a guy with blonde hair messing with his guitar, and he saw a blonde haired girl standing next to him, watching him. They didn't notice him just yet.

Damiano turned his head away from them and decided to focus his gaze on a girl sitting in a chair with a pen and journal in her hands, ashtray sitting on the armrest of the chair. She was lightly gripping the pen as she wrote and crossed and scrambled the words on a piece of paper in the journal. Her (h/l) (h/c) covered her eyes slightly. He could clearly see her red lips moving, even tho she had a half finished cigarette in her mouth. She was probably mumbling the word of the, what was probably, a song she was writing.

She was mumbling so quietly, but somehow he could still hear her voice. It was beautiful, he felt like he was falling into a trans. He felt himself freezing like a deer in headlights when he saw her look up at him.

Her face steached into a smile, cigarette no longer lingering on her lips as she reached out and placed it on an ashtray. Her (e/c) shining like the sun, her hair no longer covering them from him. She stood up and started to walk up to him. That's the moment when Vic and Thomas noticed him, too.

He noticed the grace she was carrying herself with. It was as if she was floating. It was a sight to behold for sure.

"Ciao! Tu devi essere Damiano David." [Hi! You must be Damiano David.] She said and he felt like his breath was knocked out of his lungs when he heard her angelic voice speak to him.

"SÌ. Quello... sono io." [Yes. That's me.] He stuttered for a bit and that shocked him to his core. He never stuttered before, it felt weird. He didn't like that.

"Sorprendente. Io sono (Y/N) e loro sono Thomas e Victoria." [Amazing. I'm (Y/N) and this is Thomas and Victoria.] She introduced herself, Thomas and Vic.

And so, after a few quick hellos were exchanged, they pulled him in front of the mic and they preformed one song with him and one where he had to sing alone. It turned out that (Y/N) and he sing together perfectly. Their voices simply sound so good together. However, since that day something followed Damiano. Something that he couldn't quite place for a little bit.

Broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door

I got splinters in my knuckles crawling across the floor

Couldn't take you home to mother in a skirt that short

But I think that's what I like about it

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

Over the years Damiano and (Y/N) started to get closer and closer to each other.

At first it was innocent, truly. The two of them would talk with each other more than they would with Vic, Thomas or Ethan. Everyone soon noticed how close they were. They started to become very good friends. They had a lot of thing in common. They liked the same music, the same artists, everything! They somehow never ran out of topics to have a conversation about. It was amazing, really.

They would go out to get coffee, pizza, they went to bars and local parties together. They would come to each other's houses and just watch TV and get drunk or, sometimes even, high. They would drink some shitty wine that they would find in some shitty liquor store and would fall asleep on top of each other on the couch.

They would write and sing songs with each other. They liked each other's voices, but most of all, they liked how they sounded together. A match made in heaven, indeed.

However, over the years something changed. As they grew, the band did, too and so did their feelings for one another. Damiano watched everything she did whenever she was in his presence. He practically adored the ground she was walking on. It was amazing to experience. And to watch, too.

Vic was the first one to notice, of course. She would easily notice the longing glances that they would send each other while they thought that nobody was looking. She tried to talk to them about it. They would just brush it off.

"She is just my best friend, come on, Vic!"

"He's just a friend to me. Nothing more!"

Of course, Vic wasn't stupid, and neither were Thomas and Ethan. They soon figured what was up, too. The three musicians really tried everything in their power to get them to know what the other was feeling, but it felt like it was impossible to do that.

The problem was that Damiano and (Y/N) thought that the other didn't like them like that. And so from one problem, another one was born.

One night stands.

They both thought that if they see other people they could push their feelings away. However, when did that work out?

Damiano could still remember it. He walked down the hallway of the hotel that they were staying in because of their performance in New York. He watched her and some random guy practically eat each other's faces as she started to push him into her hotel room.

The last thing that he saw were the stains of red lipstick before he started doing it two.

I must admit I thought I'd like to make you mine

As I went about my business through the warning signs

End up meeting in the hallway every single time

And there's nothing we can do about it

Damiano had officially had enough. Watching her bringing guy after guy in her hotel room, him bringing girl after girl. It was too much. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't just stand aside as he watched and heard everything those guys did when it should be him doing it to his angel.

So one night he gathered his courage and knocked on her door so hard he almost got splinters in his knuckles from the wooden door. The moment she opened the door he spilled his feelings to her and so this is how they ended up there.

Damiano was quick to notice a bruise in the corner of her neck. Her pathetic attempt to cover it with her hair was not doing it. He felt anger fill his body to the brim. He knew that he had no reason to be angry, she wasn't his. Perhaps that was what angered him.

"You seem angry." (Y/N) was quick to point it out, her face forming a concerned look. "Why are you mad?"

"I'm not mad." Damiano spat out, proving her point. "I just think that you can choose better people to share spit with, angel. That's all."

"Excuse me?!" (Y/N) couldn't help but to yell in his face in the middle of the hallway. "What the hell is wrong with you, Damiano?"

"Was it worth it?" He asked her, his voice dangerously low. It send shivers down her spine.

"Is you hating me right now your new personality trait?"

She knew that that wasn't justified. She knew how bold of her that was. She knew that he didn't actually hate her, at least she hoped that he didn't. The truth was that she grew nervous under his gaze. His gaze, his tone, sudden realization of what he was talking about... it made her nervous as hell. She didn't know what to do.

"Was it worth it?" He kept his voice low and she knew that she couldn't avoid the topic any longer as much as she wanted to.

"I don't know what to say, Damiano."

"Oh, don't bullshit me, (Y/N)!" Damiano's voice rang in the hallway of the huge hotel in the middle of New York. He didn't give a flying fuck that it was night. That her "neighbors" were probably asleep. He didn't care about anything but his angel.

"Watcing you with so many guys who can't give you what I can... it draw me crazy." He finally confessed as he watched her in science of the hallway, frozen, confused. "You still don't get it, do you? It's because I love you."

"Now I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't feel the same way." Damiano told her as he pinned her against the door of her bedroom. Her breath getting stuck in her throat as she listened to his rough voice speak. "Just then I will leave you alone."

"I can't." She whispered, feeling so small compared to him right now.

"And why is that, angel."

"Because... I'm not even gonna lie, I'm just so fucking obsessed with you, you have no idea."

That's all he needed.

Told it to her brother and she told it to me

That she's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see

When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets

And there's nothing she can do about it

Hey, hey

His lips felt so familiar yet so unknown to her. His breathing had become more strained.

"Damn it all to hell, if I don't get to have you tonight then I'm never going to be able to have you."

"Who says it has to be that way." (Y/N) said as she gasped in pleasure as he started to suck the skin on her neck.

His muscles tensed with every thrust. She finally allowed herself to sink into the mattress, into her pillow. She finally allowed herself to have him and for him to have her. She felt his hands flattering against her spine as he drew her closer to him as if that was physically possible.

"Arch your back for me, angel."

She felt herself gasping in pleasure as she did what he asked her to do. It was hard for him to contain his own sounds, too, as he pumped his thick throbbing cock into her at a constant pace.

"Please..." she was getting overwhelmed with him continuously hitting the right spot deep inside of her.

He grabbed her ankles and lifted her ankles to place them around his waist. She was practically screaming as he continued to split her wet pussy at rapid speed. She continued to shudder as he sped up his pace.

"Bet you they don't make you sound like that, do they, angel?"

"Ah- I-"

"Do they!?"

"NOO!" She barely gasped. "They don't... only you can do- ahh- this to mee!"

She openly moaned, screaming as Damiano's cock started swelling and stretching her tight pussy even more then before. And as her orgasm hit, she began to cry. He didn't care, he continued to thrust repeatedly, no signs of stopping or at least slowing down.

"I want you to remember everything fucking seconds of this."

She was overstimulated, but the tears of pleasure continued to flow.

He suddenly pulled out, erotic sound of cum mixed together filled the deafening silence in her room. He's fiery kisses started to trail down to her soaked pussy. Soon he started to suck her clit, but he moved away when he felt your hands on his head. He removed his tongue as he repositioned himself near your ass.

"Mhh!" (Y/N) tried to gain her voice back so she could speak again. "Don't! Too much!"

"Shhh... my beautiful angel." He cooed to her. "I'm sure that you've got one more in you. Will you be a good little angel and take what I have to give you?" His words were mocking and teasing at the same time as she nodded her head as much as she could before she pushed herself further into her pillow.

"Good girl."

He slowly began to enter her again, he was lubricated by her dripping juices. The thrusts began to increase again as she screamed his name, shaking. However, soon she found herself moving to meet his rough, pleasurable thrusts, which synchronized.

She was drowning in pleasure, she couldn't comprehend what was happening anymore. However she knew one thing, every time that fat cock hit her cervix, she got closer and closer to her much needed release.

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

Wanna die, wanna die, wanna die tonight

Wanna die, wanna die, wanna die tonight

Wanna die, wanna die, wanna die tonight

The stadium was big. The light were truly blinging (Y/N). The adrenaline was pumping through your veins. She was so happy, so full of euphoria even tho her throat felt so sore from all the singing and her muscles were hurting her.

On the other hand Damiano felt like he was going to faint. Yes, he was euphoric and happy, too. He was so happy and excited for the even bigger future of Måneskin, but he felt nervous.

For years he was in love with this girl. He always gave his best to express it as best as he possibly could. But nothing felt good enough. His angel deserved the world, even more so. He loved her so much the fraze "to the moon and back" simply couldn't cut it.

So he decided to express his love for her in a way that he did best. He wrote her a song. And so with a deep breath, and Victoria's pep talk before he went on the stage, he stepped forward.

"How are we feeling tonight, LA!?" Damiano shouted and his shout was followed by screaming and clapping of the fans.

"So tonight you are going to hear a song you have never heard before!! You excited!!??"

Damiano had to cover his ears a little because the screaming of the fans became a little bit too much. Still he found himself laughing with excitement. Like he always did. He looked a little to the side where (Y/N) was standing so he could take a little peak at her face. Confused was not a good enough word to explain the look on her face when she heard what Damiano had said and Vic, Thomas nor Ethan didn't say anything. He wrote a song? Without me? (Y/N) though to herself.

"This song I will sing alone." Damiano said and (Y/N) got even more confused.

"You see, I met this girl a long time ago and I felt like I loved her the moment I saw her. I wanted to express my love to her and to the entire world so I wrote this song for her." Damiano continued.

The crowd was already loosing their minds as Damiano stepped took the microphone form it's stand, but when Damiano said the next words and started singing all hell broke loose.

"This song is for you, (Y/N). My only angel."

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

She's an angel

My-my-my only angel

->

->

->

TAGLIST

@opal-rugger

[tieronecrush]

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter four: i can see you

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 9.6k

a/n: this chapter is A LOTTTT of filth and as always thank you to bestie @northernbluess for beta-ing <333 love ya!

It’s the first class after Javi had you on your knees in front of him, the rest of the weekend was spent circling back to that image and having to take a cold shower or adjust himself in his jeans when he met up with some old friends from his days as a sheriff. The other thoughts that alternated from the image of you on your knees, soft and supple lips around his cock, was his view from between your legs, pleasure contorting your face and pulling you to a place where you fully let him give your body the treatment it deserves. There’s a phantom feeling of your come all over his face, the visual of you squirting for him bringing him to the edge when he spent Sunday night with his hand around his cock.

What would you feel like, writhing underneath him and making all those sweet little sounds he’s been replaying over and over in his head, while he gives you his cock over and over until you’re screaming?

You were now a craving that couldn’t be satiated; even if he had your mouth again, even if he got another taste of you, even if he got the chance to fuck you properly, it wouldn’t ever be enough. He’s always going to want one more orgasm, one more little moan of his name, one more time spilling into you and watching you take it wherever.

This is why he is buzzing as he walks through the halls to the lecture room, stalking up to the door and peeking through the small window. A glimpse of the back of your head sends a hot rush of his blood south, rolling out his shoulders and taking a breath to calm down. He languidly makes his way down the stairs at the end of the rows of seating, slowing his pace even more when he starts to reach the row you’re occupying. The sound of your voice rises above all the other students in his ears, and he bites back a smile as he’s reminded of the short phone call from the evening prior.

“Will you draw something else for me, bebita?”

“I can but that means I won’t be paying too much attention in class, Professor Peña.”

“Eh, doesn’t matter so much. Can just fill you in when I see you next. Call it private tutoring…” He grinned when he heard you laugh on the other side of the line, feeling like a schoolboy crushing hard. Javi was sitting on his couch, laying back and listening to you, trying to ask questions that gave long-winded answers so he could listen to your voice. “D’you have any other hobbies, bebita?”

“Hm, I mean, I guess so. Haven’t had a lot of time to do much these days cause of school. But I’ll sound like a grandma if I tell you about all those so let’s leave it at I like to doodle in your class.”

“No, no, I wanna hear about it all. What else is there besides drawing?”

“Well, um, I like embroidery. Like those pieces of fabric in the ring with designs on them? Those are fun to make when I’m watching TV or a film. Helps me focus, I guess. Actually, a lot of my hobbies are just things that help me focus so maybe I have a bit of an attention problem—”

“Don’t seem to have an issue paying attention to me, cariño.”

“Yeah, but you’re a distraction in and of yourself. I can barely pay attention to anything you’re saying during lecture cause I’m just looking at you, which is why I had to start doodling to have something to help me focus.”

“I see. Alright, so drawing and embroidery, anything else you like to do?”

“I guess anything I can make really. I find new mediums that look fun to do, buy all the supplies, and do it once, and then don’t touch it again.” You laughed again and Javi smiled and shook his head.

“Well, how about you make me something from all those different things? I want some Angel originals, hermosa. Show off how much I like art.”

“Javi, you’ve got no clue about anything to do with art.”

“Yeah, but I would know they’re yours. That would make them the best.”

It was silent for a moment, Javi awaited your answer to his loosely termed commission.

“Alright, deal.”

When he comes back into the lecture hall from his trailing thoughts, the student next to you is speaking, trying and failing to keep her voice at a low enough volume for Javier not to hear her.

“I heard that Professor Peña used to not be the most ethical when he was in the DEA…like slept with prostitutes to get information. Can’t even imagine the shit he must’ve caught there,” she says as if it’s the juiciest information she’s been told, likely wanting someone else besides you to overhear and question it.

You scoff at the girl sitting near you, rolling your eyes before your brow creases slightly in disapproval, “Y’know, you really shouldn’t be making assumptions about people based on campus rumors. And even if he did do that, he clearly did something right cause he stopped all of those criminals, and probably helped the women too. A lot of people talk to be able to get other opportunities.”

Anger flashes in your chest, burning red like heated iron to brand your heart with Javi’s likeness.

No, no feelings. Nothing more than what you have going on with him, no getting any more attached and making it messy.

But how can people just say shit like that? Without any care that the person they’re talking about is in the room, likely overhearing everything?

Javier doesn’t deserve the treatment. He’s so caring, and intelligent, and giving, and—No. No more.

You’re drifting back and forth between frustrations and telling yourself to calm down for the rest of class, and it’s clear on your face to Javier. He overheard everything, especially your quick defense of him. He knows the extra meaning behind your words, or at least hopes that there’s something else there — maybe a bit of his infatuation or school-age crush reciprocated. Eyes stay glancing over at you throughout his lecture and discussion, no comments or questions from you as you hurriedly take notes or scribble out something in the margins of your paper.

Fingers twitch at the sight of your tense shoulders, creased brow, and avoidant eyes. He so badly wants to walk right over, kiss you to release all of the pent-up frustration, and thank you for your defense. What he would give to be able to sit right next to you, huddle together in your own world like in the booth at the bar over the weekend.

He doesn’t get to catch you before you jump up at the end of class that day, quickly leaving after getting dirty looks from your seatmate. Javier is tempted to call the other student down to speak to him, but that feels a step too far, so he quells down the need to protect you and moves on for the day.

It isn’t until the second meeting of the week that he finally gets to see you again, his calls going to voicemail for the two nights following that day. He’s in the hallway, speaking with another professor within the department when you come down the corridor, a sweet autumnal plaid mini dress on with a cardigan over it. He licks his lips at the sight of your thighs covered with translucent black tights that tuck under the ankle of your Dr. Marten boots.

The other man’s voice slowly fades out as Javier focuses on you, attempting and failing to steal his gaze away as you walk past him. Eyes lock with a teasing knowing behind yours, the corners of your lips twitching up as you laugh to yourself that he looks like a dog to a bone.

“Hi, Professor Peña and it’s nice to see you again, Professor Quinn,” you slow down on the other side of the two men, Professor Quinn returning your smile and waving you over for a conversation.

“So lovely to see you again! Lizzy has been asking about you, she misses her favorite babysitter. How have you been? Are you in one of Professor Peña’s classes?” Professor Quinn looks between the two of you, friendly small talk coated with tension that only you and Javier can feel. The secret you share licks flames in your gut, stirring an excitement that you know so much more about him than other students, than his coworkers, than most people. That excitement has anxiety constricting in your chest briefly, afraid of what might happen if you allowed yourself to feel any claim over Javi.

Don’t get so attached. It’s work, a job, and there are other men on your schedule. No one else is like Javi, but canceling on anyone else to spend more time with him is too close to blurring the lines.

Javier looks at you, his heart in his throat as he is the recipient of one of those smiles from you, the one that had him crushing from the first sight of it and the same one he can’t get out of his head when you’re apart. Before Professor Quinn feels the need to repeat his question, Javier clears his throat and nods curtly.

“Yeah, my first graduate-level course. Got to get to the lecture in about five minutes actually.” Javier steps to leave but you hold up a hand.

“Oh, sorry, Professor Peña, but do you mind waiting one moment? I’d like to talk to you about the upcoming assignment on the way to the lecture hall.” Javi has a burning need to say he’ll talk to you after class, to cover any suspicions of his colleague from the prolonged eye contact between the two of you, but he can never deny those eyes of yours — and you seem to know that fact already.

He waits to the side while you quickly finish your conversation with Professor Quinn, who taught you during your undergraduate years and whose daughter you babysat for date nights during the school year and nannied over the summers you stayed in San Antonio.

There’s a flash of jealousy in Javier’s chest, no logic behind it, but he can’t help but feel like he wants to be the only one to know you as a student and outside of class. It’s silly, especially because this relationship is completely innocent, but he can’t stop the feeling from rushing over like a wave.

With a smile, one that he convinces himself isn’t quite like the ones you give him, you say goodbye to your former instructor and turn to Javier. Closing the gap to catch up with him, you start to walk side by side, appropriately inches apart despite the surge of wanting that trails down your left side and his right.

“So what did you want to talk to me about? The upcoming assignment? Is it the midterm research paper?” Javier maintains his professionalism, only glancing at you a few times while his mouth waters at the sight of exposed skin at your collarbone and the scent of your sweet perfume.

“Actually, I kind of just said that…” your voice goes to a lower volume, but still audible to him, “I was hoping that you’d maybe have some appointments left for your office hours? Maybe for a little tutoring session? I have my Spanish midterm coming up soon.”

Javi bites back his smirk, shaking his head to himself at your coded questions. Slowing to a stop in front of the door to the classroom, he turns to you, his boots clicking on the linoleum tiles as he rests a hand on his hip to consider.

“You can have the last one for today,” his voice drops to a low, hushed rasp as you lean in ever so slightly to hear him better, “Y’know, been missin’ you these last few days, bebita. Better have a good excuse.”

He punctuates the statement with a wink and a smirk, a teasing lilt obvious in his voice. A strong hand engulfs the door handle before you can reach for it, opening it and nodding for you to step in ahead of him.

“Ladies first,” he reminds, licking his lips as you look up at him with a quick, whispered reply.

“Think you know I’m not always a lady, Javier.”

He can’t stop watching you the whole class. He knows it’s an issue, that surely it’s obvious at points of the entire hour-and-a-half lecture. He knows that you notice his stare, quick flicks of eye contact, and subtle winks sent his way as the corners of your lips curl up in a smirk.

All he can think about is getting you alone — finally alone again — and teaching you a thing or two, like you requested, of course.

When he glances at you next, you’re staring down at your notebook, oblivious to his attention; the end of your pen is tapping against your bottom lip, your brows knitting together in what looks like confusion while reviewing your written notes. Javier watches as you slip the end of your pen between your lips, licking his own while he sees them pillow against the plastic utensil. The gloss swiped across them shines in the fluorescent lights, and with a flash of the image of your lips around him a couple of weekends ago, his trousers tighten and his mouth dries out.

You look up from your desk to meet his gaze, sharing a knowing smile before he stutters out the next point of his lecture. Clearing his throat, he shakes his head to himself and peels his eyes away from you, keeping them away for the rest of the session to attempt to calm down before he has to walk out in front of all the students with a bulge in his tight trousers.

At the end of class, he announces that he’ll be rescheduling his office hours to this afternoon, to start shortly after he releases everyone for the session. You quickly catch his eyes, the corner of his mouth ticking up with a subtle smirk and a quick wink while the rest of the students pack up their things. Some linger to ask quick questions, but you’re out the door before he can grab your attention again, his eager stance deflating. He wanted you to stay, to talk to you before sitting through all his other office hour appointments before he’s able to see you.

It’s about an hour of talking through fifteen-minute appointments with other students, both graduate and undergraduate, about their upcoming midterm assignments or exams for his courses. He can’t help but roll his eyes each time these students ask for extra credit or make-up notes for the classes that they have missed — most of these kids haven’t bothered to show up since syllabus week. The clock to the left of the door ticks away, and he sweeps up the conversation with the sophomore sitting across his desk once fifteen minutes exactly hit, ushering him out the door and promising another meeting before the midterm, but that he has another appointment to get to.

Taking a breath once the student is heading down the hallway, he combs his eyes around the area outside of his office, his attention being pulled to quick footsteps down the corridor. His eyes take in Dr. Martens, slightly beat up and well-worn, black sheer tights snaking up your legs to the mid-thigh hem of your skirt. Trailing up your dress to the exposed skin at your collarbone, Javi licks his lips.

“Sorry, I’m a little late, Professor Peña. Rushed over here when I realized what time it was sitting in the library,” you apologize, a soft smile on your face holding back the playful glint in your eyes.

“No problem, the last student ran a bit over his appointment time. Please, c’mon in.” Javier gestures for you to walk ahead of him into the open door of his office, watching you glance around the space as he shuts the door behind him. At the click of the handle into place, Javi strides over to you and grabs at your hips, leaning down to catch your lips in a heated and rushed kiss.

His larger frame looms over you, your hands finding his shoulders as your body relaxes into his grip. Javi guides you backward to his desk and around it, pressing you up against the edge of the wood.

“Fuck, bebita, jus’ couldn’t take my eyes off of you the whole fucking day. Look so sweet in your dress. Wanted to rip it off you and take you right there. Let everyone know whose girl you are,” he rasps against your lips, dragging his own along your jaw and working a love bite underneath your ear. A whimper pulls from your throat, leaning your head back for easier access as you squeeze your thighs together.

“Bet you’d like that, huh?” The smirk in his voice is evident, cockiness coating his words as he asks the rhetorical question. “Mi zorrita (My little slut) wants everyone to know who makes her feel so good, doesn’t she?”

“Y-Yes, I want everyone to know that it’s you…” you sigh out when Javier’s lips suck at your collarbone, hunched over you while his bulge presses into your thigh.

“You’d do that if I asked, like a good girl. But you’re all mine, bebita. Don’t want anyone else having you like I do.”

Guilt burns in your chest when he says that; you know he isn’t seeing anyone else, he’s said as much. You’ve dodged the question, avoiding the confrontation of telling him he’s one of a few because then you’d have to explain how he isn’t one of the few — how something with him is different, deeper, makes you long for him when he’s away.

And confessing all of that makes your stomach turn.

Instead of responding with words, your hand curls into his hair, the other resting against his chest and pulling him back up to your face. Kissing him hurriedly, you take the moment of distraction to push him back and down into his desk chair. You fold over him, keeping your lips attached to his and sighing when you feel a rumble of a moan from him when your hand at his chest drops down to palm him through his pants.

“Y’know, you asked for a Spanish lesson, bebita. D’you still want to learn something?” Javier asks, his head pulled back to rest against the seat back. You give him a ‘yes’, kneeling in front of his seat and scraping your nails against his strong thighs.

“Eres mío? Eres mi buena chica? Qué vas a hacer por mí? (Are you mine? Are you my good girl? What are you gonna do for me?)” Javier brushes his fingers against your cheek as he looks down at you. You take a beat to translate his questions in your head, a smirk growing on your face while you unbuckle his belt and undo his button and zipper on his trousers.

“Te voy a hacer sentir bien. (I’m going to make you feel good).” Javier grins down at you when you answer, sighing in relief when you pull his dick out from his boxers. His hand is still at your face, eyes darkening when you look at him.

“Una chica tan lista. My smart girl,” he exhales the last syllable when you swipe your tongue up the underside of his cock, his fingers running against your hair and moving to the back of your head. “Ahora chupa, mi zorrita. (Now suck, my little slut.) Show me what you can do.”

Following his instructions, you take Javi into your mouth, teasing the head of his cock with your tongue. Your hand wraps around the base of him, slowly stroking as you feed more of him into your mouth, all the way until he hits the back of your throat.

Exhaling out of your nose, you take a moment before starting to bob your head in time with your hand. The sounds coming from Javi sitting over you are delicious, the actions and the noises making your saliva drip from the corners of your lips and down his shaft, squelching with the motions of your hand. The hand of his at the back of your head starts to guide you, pushing you down an inch further to press the tip of him into your throat.

“Fuck, bebita, taking my cock so fucking well. Such a good girl for me, my dirty girl.” You hum in acknowledgment and squeeze your thighs together, readying yourself to deepthroat him when there’s a sharp knock on his office door. Javi’s hand holds your head still, looking down at you and whispering expletives as he glances around the room. The knob starts to turn when he calls out, “One sec!”

You pull off of him and open your mouth to whisper, but Javi shakes his head and holds his index finger up to his lips.

“Quiet, baby. There’s nowhere else for you to go, jus’ get under the desk and I’ll get rid of whoever it is quick, okay?”

You nod and crawl into the alcove of his desk, sitting on your knees with your back to the panel that hides you from the rest of the room. Javier wheels his desk chair closer to the desk, his legs on either side of you trapping you in. Eye-level with his still aching cock, your mouth waters, and breath hitches when the door finally opens and a voice comes booming in.

“Javier! Agent Peña! Big Man on Campus! How the heck are ya?” Dean Banks greets Javi with a laugh, striding into his office confidently. He rolls his eyes at the Dean, clearing his throat and scooting one leg closer to you under the desk.

“Dean Banks, nice to see you. I’m fine, how are you?” The polite conversation sparks an idea in your head to distract Javier, licking your lip and leaning in closer. You blow a warm breath over his cock, watching it twitch with the sensation and making Javier’s leg jolt.

“I’m doing great — we’ve gotten some glowing midterm reviews for your courses so I thought I would stop by to give you the good news! And to check in and see how you’re doing with the first full semester you’ve had here so far.” Dean Banks wanders around his office, staying in front of the desk as he pokes at all the books on the shelves lining the walls. “Haven’t gotten mixed up into, uh, those extraneous circumstances we discussed have you?”

Javier opens his mouth to answer at the same time you take him back between your lips, plunging your head down to take half of him in one quick go. The words catch in his throat and he quickly clears it to cover up the noise.

“No, absolutely not, sir. Been focused on, uh, teaching and setting all of my students up for—success. I was just finishing up with my office hours before you walked in.” Javier’s hand searches for you under the desk to pull you away, but you grip both of his hands in your position of power, holding them down as you continue to suck his dick hidden away from view.

“Hm, didn’t see any students walking out in the hallway or out of your office. Must have missed them.” Dean Banks turns his back to Javier and he glances down at his lap to look at you with a glare, mouthing ‘Knock it off’.

In an act of defiance, you take full advantage of the dynamic to make eye contact with him before taking his cock in its entirety down your throat. You gag around it and Javier coughs and groans out of a sudden reaction. The Dean turns around quickly, a puzzled look on his face.

“Y’alright there, Peña?”

Javier nods quickly, wiping the subtle sweat built up by nerves on his forehead and takes a deep breath while you continually take him deep in your throat and move your head up and down his length.

“Yeah, yeah. Just got a, uh, a….headache.”

The Dean nods and claps his hands together, walking toward the door, “Well I won’t keep you for any longer then, better get home and get some rest. Glad to hear there are no issues with your new course. Chat soon, Big Man.”

Javier rolls his eyes again at the Dean’s back when he exits and pulls the door closed behind him. It’s another beat before the coast is clear enough and Javier wheels his chair back, you walking on your knees to keep him in your mouth. His chest is breathing deep, looking up at him through your lashes. Unimpressed anger is painted across his face, a stern shake of his head before his voice comes out low and intimidating, making your thighs squeeze together to feel your panties cling to your wetness.

“Thought that was funny, bebita? Doing that while we had company? Pequeña mocosa. (Little brat.)” Javier ticks his tongue in his mouth and pulls you off of his cock, strings of spit connecting you to his still-aching cock. “Y’know, I should just bend you right over this desk and fuck you full of me, so you have to walk around all day with me dripping out of you. How’s that sound for payback, huh?”

Your mind is reeling with the thought of him fucking you against his desk, a whimper sounding in your throat and your thighs rubbing together for any bit of relief. A hand of yours moves to go between your legs, desperate to touch yourself, but Javier quickly grabs it, hooking your other hand with his larger one and bringing them both above your head.

“Oh, but mi zorrita would like that though, wouldn’t she? Not much of a punishment. Guess I’ll just have to fuck your mouth and come down your throat then.”

He stands from his chair and kicks it away behind him, tugging you closer and to sit taller by your hands above your head. The unoccupied hand grips his cock at the base, positioning himself in front of your face, tapping the head of his cock against your plush bottom lip.

“Open, angel. If you’re gonna be a brat, una mocosa, m’gonna fuck you like one.”

No more protests are had from you, opening your mouth as wide as possible and humming around Javi when he slips into your mouth. He sighs, tilting his head back toward the ceiling with a quiet moan. After a second of being still, halfway filling your mouth, he looks down at you again and starts to thrust his hips — slowly and shallow at first before his patience snaps and he moves quicker and deeper.

His cock hits the back of your throat each time, a bruising pace making your core throb with a burning desire, imagining the same feeling but inside of your pussy. You moan around him, choking when he gets the deepest you’ve had him ever, gagging harshly and swallowing around him to attempt to recover.

Javier is blinded with pleasure, soft begs of your name repeatedly falling from his lips before he gives you another hard fuck to your throat, one last gag before he’s pulling back and spilling ropes of his come onto your tongue. He pulls out, the last few painted across your lips as he looks down at you, breathless while his chest heaves and drops your hands from his grip.

“Fuck, bebita, such a little fucking slut taking me like that.”

In the midst of your own recovery, you stick your tongue out to show him before swallowing his spend, coughing quietly. Javier quickly grabs a few tissues and sits in his desk chair, gingerly wiping off the evidence of his punishment from your face. It’s silent between you two while you watch him focus on the task, reaching a hand up to wrap your fingers around his wrist.

“M’sorry if I was too rough, angel. Caught a bit too caught up there…” he avoids your eyes, tossing aside the Kleenex and tucking himself back into his trousers.

“I liked it,” you confess, standing up from your knees and straddling his lap in his chair as you sit down. “Liked it a lot, actually. I wanna be that for you, like an escape. Turn your brain off, 'cause we both know you overthink everything.”

You run your fingers through his hair and he chuckles, nodding before he kisses you sweetly.

“Thank you, bebita. Such a good girl for me. So sweet,” he muses, giving you another kiss, “Now how about we actually learn some Spanish for your exam?”

The next week is spent either on the phone with Javi in the evenings, when you’ve returned home from any other dates scheduled, or out with him, finding hole-in-the-wall bars and restaurants to avoid any eyes from around campus. Each time you see his name on your caller ID, or see his truck pull up outside of your apartment complex to pick you up, your heart starts with a quickened pulse, dopamine firing in your brain and giving you that stuck in lov—

No feelings. You remind yourself each time you get that serotonin increase, simply excusing it as you enjoy your time with him and the pleasure he eagerly gives you whenever you give to him.

It’s hard not to allow yourself to feel around him; Javi makes it so easy to indulge. Little moments like him calling the mechanic and getting the cost of your repairs brought down, driving you over to pick it up and paying for it himself to make sure they didn’t haggle anymore; ordering your favorite drink if he arrived at a bar or restaurant before you, or getting you something new that he thought you would enjoy; a hand on your back or waist or encompassing your own, guiding you without overpowering. Small gifts given; new books purchased when you’ve browsed bookstores he’s found for you, new favorite dresses or lingerie filling your closet that Javier claimed were as much gifts for himself as they were for you.

His care was ever present, not overwhelming until it came to the point that you thought about him and how much he was there, integrated into your life and habits and moments of joy.

Absolutely terrifying. But you couldn’t stop.

And he was feeling like he couldn’t stop either.

He didn’t know if he was overdoing it all with you, new to this sort of arrangement and its usual boundaries, but he hoped that the fact that you kept laughing and smiling, initiating kisses or more with him, that you were enjoying yourself as much as he was.

There were tiny snapshots where he caught himself thinking about, feeling more for you. When you sneak into his office on the days you have other classes, steal minutes with him before you have to go across campus or he has to go teach or to a department meeting. To-go cups of black coffee on your handful of morning dates at the weekend, a reminder that you made observations about him just as he was you. When you stood up for him, defended him when the other student was spreading rumors. Sure, they were true, and he’d told you as much, but to hear your subtle protectiveness was warming his long cold heart. 

He hadn’t felt like this before, and he never thought he would have the chance. Colombia had jaded him, hardened him to stone, but you were slowly chiseling away to reveal his moldable core, reshaping him into a person he knew before and at the same time, a person who was only becoming familiar these days.

Could this be love? If he didn’t know how you felt or where you stood? He never thought he was in love before, and this confirms those thoughts. Never has he felt like this, never has he been so clumsy and boyish in his relationship at times.

It’s a Thursday evening, and his classes for tomorrow are scheduled to have a break to give them more time to study for midterms. Fiddling with his phone in his hands, he wonders what you might be up to, going back and forth over whether or not to call.

Before he can think anymore, he’s finding your contact, brought straight to the top of the list when he changed the name to ‘Bebita’, and hits the green phone button.

The line rings a few times, cutting out with an answer and a rustle over the microphone before he hears your voice.

“Hi, Javi.” He can hear you sigh, sensing an edge of stress or impatience in your tone.

“Hey, bebita. You busy tonight? I wanna see you.”

“Oh, Javi, I don’t know if I can make tonight work. I’m using this weekend to study for all my midterms and to finish writing all my essays due next week and…I don’t really have time, m’really sorry,” you sound timid, exhausted and it makes him on edge, his brain immediately centering on how he can make you feel better.

“Do you need help with anything, cariño? Can I do anything?” He sits up on the couch, standing in the next moment to pace near his boots and his keys laid out on the counter, ready to pounce when you say the word.

“Oh, gosh, I don’t know…I feel like I can’t even think about making my dinner right now. I’m sorry.”

The coating of your voice and the sniffle through the phone are unmistakable; you’re on the verge of tears attempting to think of what he can do, the avalanche of stress you’re feeling. A crack sharpens across his heart, hands craving to hold you close and to fix it all for you.

“Oh, bebita, dulzura, you don’t have to apologize to me. I wanna spend time with you, help you. Don’t need to be going out or doing anything else than just sittin’ with you,” he nests his phone between his shoulder and ear while he slips his boots on, “Do you mind if I come by? If it stresses you out, you can tell me to leave but if I’m there maybe I can find something to help with.”

It’s quiet on the line while you consider, another sniffle nearly sending him out the door without your actual answer.

“Okay, yeah. You can come over. But I look like a mess and my apartment looks like a tornado went through it and I might cry in front of you.”

Javier chuckles and shakes his head while he grabs his phone with his hand to keep it against his ear. His free hand grabs for his keys, plucking his jacket off the coat rack and already walking out the door.

“Don’t worry about any of that, bebita. M’here to help you, I wanna take care of you,” he hears a hum of acknowledgment from you, “I’ll be there in like half an hour, alright? Gotta make a couple stops while I’m out and then I’ll be there for you, okay?”

“Okay…” you say quietly, “Thank you, Javi.”

“I’ll see you in a bit, angel.”

Exactly thirty minutes later, a knock raps on your front door, strong and short. Glancing up at the entrance, you see the lock turned and call out loud enough to be heard in the hallway.

“It’s open!”

The door unlatches and swings open, the rustle of bags hitting your ears before the sight of Javi hits your eyes. He juggles the thin plastic handles of the grocery haul in his hands, shaking his head as he pushes the door closed behind him with his boot-clad foot.

“Don’t like that you're keeping your door unlocked, bebita. S’not safe, what if I wasn’t me?” The strict, skeptical agent shows through — paranoia in his eyes while he sets down the bags on your counter, walking back over to lock the door and shrug off his black leather jacket. Underneath his outerwear, the black short-sleeve button-up clings to his torso and stretches at his shoulders. It’s tucked into his usual jeans with his belt on display, and one look exchanged with him reminds him to kick off his shoes — baby blue socks with small figures of different types of dogs patterning the surfaces of them.

“Hello to you, Javier,” you chuckle and turn back to your books, continuing to read over the chapter summary you were engrossed with before his entrance.

His sock-covered feet pad softly over to you at your dining table, taking in the sight of you before he stands behind you, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

“Hi, bebita.” He smiles when you lay your head back to look up at him behind you, grinning and giggling when he leans over again to kiss you. “Missed you.”

“I’m just giving you shit.” A laugh leaves your mouth in quiet breaths when he rolls his eyes, steps back to your kitchen counter and starts to unpack everything. You pull yourself away from the table to follow him over, shaking your head at all of the snacks, drinks, and extra pens and notecards spilling out of the bags. “Gosh, Javi. How much stuff did you get?”

He glanced at you sheepishly, shrugging, “Didn’t know what you might want, so kind of got everything I thought you’d like.”

One hand lands on his bicep closest to you, turning his attention to you for you to lean up and kiss him sweetly. You can feel your heart in your throat at the expanse of his thoughtfulness, truly wanting to come over to help without any other expectations.

“I like your socks, by the way.” Another kiss is stolen before you’re back to the table, plopping down and attempting to fall back into studying. A long sigh leaves your lips and Javi frowns when he looks over at you, hyper-focused on all the text laid out in front of you. He putters around your kitchen, poking through to find plates and silverware to keep from asking you; dishing up the takeout he got after putting away the snacks and drinks, he walks back over and sets a plate down in front of you.

“Pause for a few minutes, angel, you gotta eat. And I got your favorite from that Thai restaurant we went to last week.” Javi takes the seat at the corner next to you, pulling away your books to clear a spot for you to eat. The look on your face is painful when you pick up the fork as if any more energy expended for a task other than studying is too much to handle.

“Thank you, Javi. Really. I think it would have been one of those eating shredded cheese from the bag or potato chips over the sink kind of nights if you didn’t come.”

“No need to apologize, bebita. M’always here for you,” he speaks tenderly with a smile, the two of you making light conversation while you eat. Before he clears the plates back to the kitchen, he takes your hand lying on the surface and toys with your fingers. “You can tell me to fuck off and I won’t be offended, but I’ll stick around for a few minutes in case you need me, okay?”

Immediately you shake your head and grip his hand in yours, “No, please stay. D’you mind helping me study? Like quizzing me or something? I want….I want you to stay here. Please.”

Javier holds back a wide smile, giddiness kicking up inside him. He clears his throat and nods, squeezing your hand. He stands up and bends forward to kiss your forehead, “Course I’ll help you study, angel. Let me clean up all this and then we’ll get started, yeah?”

It’s for the next couple of hours that Javier studies with you, asking you sample exam questions from the textbook and quizzing you with the notecards that you’ve made. He keeps you supplied with snacks and hydrated with water, intermittently joking with you to keep you relaxed.

It’s about eleven o’clock at night, Javi’s been here for four hours, and the rest of the weekend is ahead of you both. He’s sitting at the kitchen table, newly made notecards in his hands while you pace the kitchen in front of him. A hand runs through your hair, tugging and sighing when you can’t remember.

“God, I don’t—I don’t know…” You continue your pacing and shake your head, feeling your heart rate increase and your throat start to constrict with anxiety. The hand in your hair moves to press against your chest. “I really don’t know, shit, can you—can you tell me please?”

“Lombroso’s concept of a born criminal is atavism.”

The next few cards you also forget or get wrong and after the last incorrect answer, you stop in the tracks of your pacing. Angry tears of frustration burn at your eyes, words caught in your throat, and breaths come out short and harsh. Javier looks up at you when your movement stops, brows knitting together with concern when he sees the tears in your eyes and hears the clipped inhales and exhales.

“Bebita, c’mere.” Javi pats his lap and you shuffle over, straddling his legs and sitting in his lap to face him. “Let’s call it for tonight. We have all weekend to get you feeling confident for the exam, but trying to push yourself anymore tonight is only going to make you feel worse.”

“But—"

Javier shakes his head and brings his hands up to cradle your face, thumbs swiping away the few tears that have fallen.

“No, no ‘buts’. There’s no need to be getting upset about it. You’re exhausted and overworked, you’ve been doing this all day. And you know all of this, I know you do, angel. You’re too tired to concentrate and you need to rest.”

“God, I wish I could turn my brain off. This is all I’m gonna be thinkin’ about.”

“I can help with that, bebita.” Javier’s hands run up and down your thighs, snaking around to palm your ass with a gentle squeeze.

“Oh, yeah? And how would you do that?” You play dumb, feigning innocence to his suggestion. Brow cocked up, mouth pursued in curiosity.

“Hm, think we both know what I would do, but m’happy to tell you.” His hands roam again, trailing up your sides to cup under your breasts through your flimsy t-shirt. Your nipples pebble underneath the material when his thumbs brush over them, a satisfied smirk on his face at the sight. “I’ll take you into your bedroom. Kiss you, play with you until you’re dripping for me. And then I’m gonna use my mouth on you, jus’ like the first time, and make you come for me over and over until I think you’re ready. And when you’re begging for me, I’ll give you exactly what you want, bebita. My sweet zorrita is gonna get exactly what she needs — a good fucking.”

Your hips start to grind into his lap, nodding slowly as you listen to him and whining quietly as your eyes close. His hands stall your motions, bringing your attention to him as he admires you from below.

“Let’s go, baby. Think you need it now,” he rasps out, helping you up from his lap and following close behind you. His hands stay at your hips while you walk ahead of him at a delayed pace, his lips kissing and teeth biting at your neck. Trailing down the hallway, he slowly undresses you, leaving each article of clothing on the floor in your wake. Once the two of you reach your bedroom, he turns you toward him and kisses you hurriedly, moaning against your lips when he feels your hand palm him over his jeans.

Javier pulls himself back from you, shaking his head as he steps you backward to hit the edge of your bed, pushing you to sit and nodding to the center of the mattress. You scoot back a bit until he stops you in place, getting onto his knees at the side of the bed and hooking your legs over his shoulders.

He unbuttons a few of the top buttons on his shirt, loosening the material around his shoulders, and licks his lips as he takes in the sight of your glistening cunt.

“God, bebita, you’re always so ready for me. Whenever I want you. Do I get you that worked up being around you, hm?” His tone is cocky as he speaks, dragging two fingers through your folds and collecting some of your wetness. He slips those fingers in his mouth, working his tongue around them and moaning at the taste of you. The fingers pull out of his mouth with an audible pop, and you get onto your elbows to look at him in the eyes as he pushes those same fingers into your entrance.

“Fuck, Javi…” you moan, rolling your head back as he fucks you with his fingers, shallow and slow at first. He’s mesmerized by the view of you taking it easily, sweet little sounds hitting his ears in a satisfying way. “M-More, please. Pretty please.”

“Only because you asked so nicely, angel.” He chuckles and adds another digit, picking up his speed and getting as deep into you as he can. His other hand uses its thumb to run quick circles on your dripping clit, moaning to himself when your noises get louder and higher pitched. “You close already, bebita?”

“Yesyesyes, fuck, m’gonna come—“ You clench around his fingers, gripping the duvet under your hands.

“Ask, baby. Gotta mind your manners, mi zorrita.”

“Ple—please may I come, Javi? M’so close, oh my god,” you tack a whine at the end, lifting your hips and huffing out a breath when he pushes them back down.

“Go ahead, bebita. Come for me—" You moan his name loudly and squeeze your eyes shut, your walls gripping around his fingers tightly. “Oh, yes, fuck. That’s it, angel, that’s it.”

He works you through your orgasm, your breaths evening out after a minute. Once you’ve come down, you realize he’s inching closer between your legs, lips dragging along your inner thighs. Before you can get a word out, his mouth is on you, sucking your clit harshly. Your whine raises in pitch, hands tangling in his hair to push him away.

When he lifts his head, his dark eyes find yours as he licks his lips.

“Gonna let me taste this sweet little cunt, angelita? Make good on all my promises,” he challenges you and you breathe out a ‘yes’, all the permission he needs to put his head between your thighs.

At his first full taste, a switch flips and he devours you like a starving man — sucking, licking, fucking you with his tongue. You’re writhing under him, one strong hand splayed against your lower tummy to keep you down.

“Javi, oh fuck, feels so fucking good—oh my god, you’re so fucking good at this. Has anyone ever told you that?” You ramble the closer you get and Javi smirks against you, the words egging him on to give you more.

He pulls two conservative orgasms from you with his mouth, sucking your clit and licking into your walls with his tongue. Your brain is slowly shutting off, study materials are completely forgotten, and limbs light as air as you lay back on the bed.

Javier stands from the floor, a soft groan and clicking of his knees drawing your attention to him. He strips down from his own clothes, standing in his underwear and nodding to you on the bed.

“Scoot up, baby — that’s it, good girl.” He smirks when you move languidly, reaching out for him when he climbs onto the bed on his knees. Your arms fall to rest stretched above your head, putting you completely on display for him.

“How d’you want me, Javi?” you purr and it nearly sends him reeling, but he shakes his head and smirks down at you.

“Jus’ like this, babygirl. Wanna be able to see you, watch your pretty face as I take care of you.” Javier reaches his hand toward you, instructing you to lick. He takes the same hand and wraps it around his cock, stroking himself as he spreads your legs with his other hand. Settling between them, he drags the head of his cock through your folds, nudging your overly sensitive clit and chuckling darkly when your thighs twitch.

“Javi, please—" He shuts you up with further teasing, slipping himself inside, just the tip. He hisses from behind his bared teeth, rolling his head back to recover before he gives a few pumps of his hips and pulls out of you completely. The next move he teases your clit again, sliding his cock down to prod at the entrance of your tightest hole before moving back up to your cunt slipping just the tip inside of you again.

Under him, you're twitching and writhing with whines and whimpers, gripping the sheets.

“Javi, please, need you.” You choke out, a soft sob of a moan when he keeps fucking you with only his tip, refusing to give you any more inches. The next word leaves on an exhale before you can think about it, “Daddy…”

“What was that, bebita? Didn’t quite hear you.”

“Daddy, fuck me, please.”

Javier stills for a moment, processing exactly what you said while you’re silent, anxiety heightening with each tick of the clock and his lack of response. His hips are still shallowly fucking you, involuntary whimpers escaping your mouth.

“Daddy, huh? You wanna call me that? Got you so cockdumb before I’ve even given it to you.” His eyes are nearly pitched-black, desire evident in his roaming, worshiping hands.

“Yes, yes please, daddy. I need you, please.” The words catch in your throat and you arch your back for him, tits slightly jiggling with the motion.

“You wanted to work on your Spanish, huh? No daddy, bebita. Llámame Papí (Call me Papí). Say it, bebita. Say it for me, buena chica.” His acceptance of your knee-jerk word spill has your mind melting, clenching your walls around the tip of his cock that’s buried inside of you. “Say it.”

“Papí…” you exhale, the noise choking in your throat when he thrusts hard to fill you up to the hilt. A sobbing moan leaves your mouth when he pulls nearly out of you, only to start a punishing pace fucking you hard and deep.

“That’s right, bebita. M’taking care of you, right? Just like a papí should. You call me that as much as you want, angel. Like hearing it come from you.”

Javier grunts at the strain of how hard he’s fucking you, the sounds of your whines and his groans mixing into a melody with the slaps of skin together. It’s filthy if anyone was looking in, but the thought of that makes him fuck you harder, relishing in the sound of your wetness squelching around his cock.

“God, mi bebita, you are taking my cock so well. You like it? Am I filling you up?”

“Yes—oh my god, taking care of me…”

“That’s right, bebita, M’gonna take care of you. You wanna come on my cock, angel?”

“Yes please, daddy…”

Javi’s hips stutter at you saying it, starting again harder and faster, “Not daddy, bebita. You wanna call me that, you call me Papí, baby. Let me hear you say it.”

“P-Papí, oh my fuck, feels so good. So full, Papí.” You’re rambling under him, incomplete and incoherent thoughts, “Oh, fuck— Just there— Papí, papí, papí, ohmygod right there!”

The name is dripping with sweetness from your lips, snapping something into his brain. He’s desperate to provide for you, to take care of you in any way you need. Right now, that is fucking you dumb enough to forget about your stress. Tomorrow, it’ll be getting you coffee in the morning and helping you reevaluate your study materials.

Underneath him, you’re feeling something of the same, enamored with the man above you. The same one who drove around town to pick up things he thought you would like, feeding you, helping you study. The one who smiles at you in the halls, and calls you his babygirl behind doors. Now, he’s fucking you into oblivion and melting your brain to mush to give you what you need. He grips your legs and presses them to fold at your sides, the adjusted position bringing him deeper than before. The head of him hits that special spot inside of you, over and over until it’s driving you to the edge fast.

“Oh, fuck! Papí! Please—Please, please, please. Gonna come, please may I come, Papí?” Your brain turns on its entire leftover power to ask politely, knowing your manners would still have to be minded with your cockdumb mind.

“Such a good girl, so polite. Come for me, bebita. Let me feel your tight pussy grip my cock.” Javier groans when you let go as soon as you get his permission, relishing in the look on your face with a perfect ‘O’ mouth and walls sucking him in further as his thrusts slow down. The tightness of you brings him to his own peak, feeling precum dribbling out inside of you as he gets as close to the edge as possible.

“Oh fuck, fuck, angel. Gonna fucking come, where d’you want me?” His brow knits together with a look of pain, and you breathlessly answer.

“Outside, please, Papí. Anywhere else you want.”

He nods and pulls out of you, using his fist to fuck himself, painting his come across your torso in long ropes. Javier moans your name over and over under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut as his chest heaves with relief.

It’s quiet, nothing spoken while you both crash down. In a moment of clarity in his post-orgasm haze, he stretches over to your nightstand to grab a few tissues, wiping you clean of his spend. He tosses it in your desk trash bin, searching around the floor for his clothes. When he picks up his boxers, you make a small noise of protest and grab his attention.

“Don’t—Um, would you—" You can’t get the words out, shyness clawing at your throat. Javier fills in the blanks, smiling softly at you as he drops his boxers and climbs back onto your bed over your lying form.

“D’you want me to stay, bebita?”

You nod and smile sheepishly, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinning wider when he leans down to kiss you chastely.

“Can you ask me, angel?”

“Will you have a sleepover with me…Papí?” you giggle as you tack on the name at the end, Javier smirking and nodding his head.

“Of course I’ll stay. And if you keep pulling that out all the time, there’s going to be a lot of fucking in random places. Jus’ does something for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. Think you know that, bebita. Mi bebita.” 

“Well, that does the same thing for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm. I like being your bebita.”

“Siempre, Bebita. Always gonna be it.” Javier punctuates the conversation with another kiss, laying down completely next to you and wrapping you up in his arms. His fingers play with your hair, laying your head on his chest as you close your eyes.

A thought pops into your head, picking up your head to look Javi in the eyes.

“Are you gonna be going to the department event next week?”

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now, angel?”

“Yes, now please answer.” You poke his chest, giggling when he pinches your side playfully.

“I will be there, yes, Bebita. I’m assuming you’re going too?” He asks as he closes his eyes, exhaustion overcoming him slowly.

You smile and bite your lip, tracing shapes against his skin, “Well, would you wanna pick out my dress for it?”

That grabs his attention, his eyes shooting open with a grin growing across his face.

“Gonna let me choose what I get to see you in, Bebita? Don’t know if you want that, 'cause I could have you walking around in nothing.”

You snort out a laugh, shaking your head before laying on his chest again and closing your eyes to sleep.

“We both know you wouldn’t do that. Would you really want all those people looking at me? Thought I was all yours, don’t you wanna keep me to yourself?”

“Damn, you’re right. Guess I’ll have to pick out a pretty dress and then I can take you home and have you walk around in nothing for me.” He smiles and kisses the top of your head, sighing out a tired exhale. “Now, sleep time, Bebita. You dream of the pretty dresses I’ll get for you, no exams, and I’ll be dreamin’ about you in nothing.”

A laugh escapes your lips, nodding in agreement, “Goodnight, Javi.”

“Night, Bebita.” There’s more he wants to say, burning in his chest, but he knows it’s too soon — too much right now and it would scare you off. Instead, he holds you closer and kisses your head again, drifting off contently with you in his arms to take care of.

taglist: @northernbluess @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsquill @yazsos @cartoon-garbage04 @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @fishingforpike @mrsjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @k-k0129 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic @xyzstar @cumberpegg @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446

taglist form

[foxes-that-run]

I’m sure his finger will get better Taylor. 😂

[highladyofterrasen7]

I can see a theme

[louisstgirl]

TREAT PEOPLE WITH KINDNESS

[iwannakissyoubuticant]

also talk.

[hldailyupdate]

‘Only Angel’ is now BRIT Certified Silver in the UK! (20 January 2023)

x

[avalentina]

Harry Styles Masterlist!

Code Reminder:

❤️‍🔥 SMUT ❤️‍🔥

🧸 FLUFF 🧸

🎬 ANGST 🎬

🧨 HEADCANNON 🧨

☔ TEAR-JERKER ☔

The Wrong Stick 🧸 - you attempt to give Harry a present, but it gets a little confusing when you give him the wrong one. (Allusions to sex, alcohol use, drug use, and lots of swearing) 850 words!

The Shower Incident ❤️‍🔥🧸 - a lazy day with Harry turns steamy when he catches you dancing to his songs in the shower. (SMUT, bit of a breeding kink) 450 words!

A Family That Just Can't Be ☔ - in which Harry and Y/N are in a relationship, trying for a family when they get some sad and unexpected news. 596 words

The Gift 🧸 - kind of part 2 to A Family That Just Can't Be, in which Harry convinces you it's worth it to try IVF. 451 words

Valentine 🧸 - in which singer!reader announces she's joining LOT via Instagram Live, and boyfriend!harry fails at Instagram (AGAIN)! 895 Words

Satellite: A Harry Styles Song Fic 🧸❤️‍🔥🎬 - In which Harry and Y/N fall in love again after a chance encounter brings them back together. -check out the sneaky! 27,854 Words

Inspiration Post?

S.S.I.B.H.S.S {Short Stories Inspired By Harry Styles (and One Direction) Songs} In which I tell little mini Harry Styles and You stories. Range from 200 - 2,000 words

SEND IN YOUR FAVORITE SONG AND THE NAME OF YOUR CHARACTER!

Sign of the Times 🎬☔ - Harry Styles x Ava 😍 (Teehee) @avalentina 483 Words

Something I've Been Waiting For ☔ - Eddie (HS) x You 303 Words

WHO'S NEXT?

Still Not Over It 🧸❤️‍🔥☔ - in which love on tour has ended and you're still not over it (also includes a few rambles from yours truly) 307 Words

The Kindest Team Guy (TKTG) 🧸❤️‍🔥🎬☔ - in which NavySeal!Harry falls for MilitaryBratHacker!Y/N who just needs him for his military id, until she starts catching feelings too

Part 1

Teaser!

The Princess's Lover (TPL) 🧸❤️‍🔥☔ - in which Noble!Harry is courting with Virgin!Princess!Y/N, a sweet and cute coming of age tale.

Zero: Enchanted (The Prequel)

[watermelonlovershigh]

Harry singing painted on your back, I just know he's the dirty type to c*m on your back and then lick it off as a form to clean it off. 💦🍆

[rimunagenius]

alright…fr this time…only angel dropping today.

[awitchwithocd]

Do you also randomly think about how fine Harry looked singing Only Angel in Victoria Secret show..

Or am I alone???!!

[tieronecrush]

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter three: sugar & spice

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 9.6k

a/n: loving my prof. javi and thank you endlessly to @northernbluess for beta-ing <33333 love ya!

“Hey, angel.”

The signal isn’t great when you pick up the phone, an unfamiliar number piquing your interest as you sit on the floor of your bedroom painting your nails. The phone is pressed between your ear and shoulder, and hearing that low, raspy timbre through the cracking line brings a smile to your face and a stir of excitement in your stomach.

No, stop, stupid brain. He’s someone you’re seeing for work, you shouldn’t blur the lines with him when you have other arrangements.

“Hi, Javi.”

“What are you up to, cariño?”

The simple question brings a smile to your face, leaning back against your bedframe. You picture him in his own apartment, probably on his couch or in his bed; imagining his apartment is warm, with leather furniture and sharp edge surfaces — a balance of the firm and clean-cut facade with the worn softness of his gentle personality.

“Mm, painting my nails.”

“What color?”

“Burgundy. Like a reddish purple kind of color.”

“Y’know that’s my favorite color, angel. Bet it looks very pretty.”

“Are you gonna say that about every color I use for my nails? Something tells me we might have this conversation many times,” you giggle and can hear a breathy laugh from him.

“Maybe so. But I don’t think I’d be wrong, you’d look pretty in anything and with any nail color, querida,” you can hear shuffling on the other line, a faint sigh slipping from lips, “Any chance you’re free Friday evening, angel?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure, let me check.” You carefully stand from the floor, leaving the bottle there and walking over to your desk to look over your open planner. Skimming over the day, you see you have a date with a different man scheduled already, pouting to yourself.

“What’s the verdict, cariño?”

“M’sorry, Javi, I actually have something that night,” you confess, quickly following it up, “But I’m free Saturday if you are.”

“That works perfectly for me. Just selfishly wanted to see you sooner,” he runs his thumb across his bottom lip, knee bouncing out of nerves against the floor as he sits on the edge of his bed, “I’ll call you later this week to give you details?”

“That sounds perfect, Javi.”

He desperately wants to keep you on the line, to have your voice in his ear for a bit longer, so he’s scrambling a bit on what to ask you. The first thing that comes to mind spills out, “How’s the essay coming along?”

Palm to his forehead and rolling his eyes at himself, he relaxes only a bit when he hears you laugh, “Professor Peña making an appearance…It’s going alright, I think. I guess we’ll know when I get the grade back.”

“Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to really ask that but I couldn’t think of anything else at the moment.”

“S’alright. Just like giving you shit when I can,” another laugh from you, he can hear you moving around your room, “What do you really want to ask me? Or are you only trying to keep me on the phone to track me or something like you do to your criminals?”

“Oh yeah, that’s just it. You caught me, cariño,” he chuckles, exhaling through his nose and smiling to himself like an idiot, “But really, I do want to keep you on the phone. I like the sound of your voice….Sorry, that might have been too weird.”

“No, no, not weird. It’s sweet…” You try to hold in your smile, attempting to calm the flips your stomach is doing from hearing that from him.

“Good, that’s good. Cause I liked telling you.”

It’s another half an hour before you are finally ending the call, nails all painted and even your toes too, checking the time and following up Javi’s answer to one of your questions.

“I think I need to go to sleep. M’sorry, I have a bedtime of a child during the week,” you laugh faintly, waiting for him to speak.

“No need to apologize, angel. Get some sleep, have some nice dreams. Thanks for staying up to chat with me, sweetheart.”

“Night, Javi. I’ll see you in class on Wednesday.”

“Can’t wait. Goodnight, angel.”

Scanning your eyes across the path down below, you easily spot Javi from your vantage point at the top of the stone stairs. He waves to you when he meets your eyes, waiting at the bottom for you with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. You make your way down the stairs in your muted paisley slip dress, black tights on your legs, and a shrug cardigan across your shoulders.

The staircase descends to an entrance for the San Antonio RiverWalk, a path throughout downtown lined with bars, restaurants, shops, and more. Javi had asked you here, saying he wanted to do something simple and spend time with you.

Why does he have to be so effortlessly romantic?

You are not supposed to have these kinds of feelings for him. It’s work, it’s a job.

At least, that’s what you’re telling yourself.

Javi grins when you make your way over to him, dressed in jeans, a button-up, and a green jacket with tan trim. He drinks you in, reaching a hand out for you to take and pulling you closer.

“Hey, angel.” His voice rumbles from his chest, low volume straining it slightly. With so many people around, he’s desperate to keep you all to himself.

“Hi, Javi.” Your smile widens as you squeeze his hand, inching ever so slightly closer.

As soon as he smells the notes of your perfume — vanilla, jasmine, and amber — his shoulders relax and warmth spreads throughout his bloodstream. It’s soft like cashmere and comforting like a hug, even in the short time he’s been exposed to it up close. With a kiss pressed to your temple, he gets one last inhale before pulling away, nodding toward the left to start walking with you hand-in-hand.

He asks about your day and intently listens as you recount your chores from today, one of which included taking your car in for an oil change. You’re explaining how they offered to get your brake pads replaced too, keeping your car overnight, and giving you a quote of a few hundred dollars over what it should normally cost for it all.

“That’s some bullshit, cariño. Send me the number of this place and I’ll take care of it. Shouldn’t be paying that much for simple repairs.” Javi clicks his tongue as he shakes his head, dropping your hand and wrapping an arm around your waist as the two of you maneuver through a crowd.

He takes your hand again once you clear the crowd, asking about your plans for Sunday. The conversation evolves as the two of you wind your way along the river, not paying much attention to how far you’re walking or anyone else around you.

“Y’know, you have the whole seventies-cool-guy-look down. Were those your golden years?” You snicker quietly as you tease him, slowly swinging your hands between you. He gives you a reprimanding look, not being able to hold it for long as his own smirk seeps in.

“You’re trouble, mi maltenida. With a capital T.” He hooks his arm closest to you over your shoulders, bringing your arm connected to his across your chest and pulling into his side. “Are you making a joke about my age, sabelotodo (smartypants)? You aren’t acting like you’re embarrassed to be seen with me so it must be at least tolerable to you.”

Javi nudges the side of your head with his nose, grinning through a kiss pressed to your scalp. You shrug and glance to your left at him, holding in your own smile, “Hey, I didn’t say anything! I only asked if they were your golden years. I didn’t say anything about your age or if I liked the clothes or not.”

“Sure, angel, sure. The power of intention is always there. And for the record, yeah, they were my golden years. Until now, maybe.”

Now? He must mean cause he’s a professor at a university and a retired DEA Special Agent.

Javi’s heart is thumping in his chest, and he has a small worry that you can feel his pulse with your hand in his. Listening to your footsteps click in sync against the stone path, he inhales your scent again and calms down.

He definitely feels like his time with you is pretty golden right now. What a change from what he felt like a year ago.

“Now? Enjoying your life as a professor that much?”

“Yeah, you could say that, cariño.”

The two of you had been wandering for a few hours now, chatting and drifting in and out of stores. In a bookstore, Javi insisted on getting you one of the novels that you had picked up and talked to him about wanting to read, calling you his ‘maltenida’ once again when you were protesting his purchase. Once you caved, he grinned and went to the counter himself, carrying the bag for you as you continued to walk.

“You hungry, angel? Or want to get a drink?” Javi rubs circles into your lower back, looking at you with a soft, closed smile.

“Hmm, guess I could eat, yeah. Should we walk around and find somewhere?” You start to glance around for something that catches your eye, feeling yourself being led off the path and up to a set of stairs to the street.

“Do you trust me, angel?” His voice vibrates in your chest, lips brushing against your ear and sending a tingle across your nerves.

“I trust you, Javi.”

“Good girl. M’glad to hear that,” he winks and moves his hand to take yours, interlocking your fingers, “I’ll take us somewhere you’ll love, promise.”

It’s about five minutes walk away from the river, further into downtown before Javi veers off to the left. You’re right along with him, stumbling a little to keep up with his wide gait; he slows when he notices you always a step behind, smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry, just excited to show you.”

Squeezing his hand in reassurance, you shake your head, “No need to apologize. The rush is keeping it all very exciting.”

The two of you share a quiet laugh before his steps completely slow to a stop in front of an unsuspecting set of double doors, labeled with numbers and letters that are reminiscent of library catalogs — the nerd in you realizes that it’s the Dewey Decimal system.

“What is this place?” A confused expression contorts your face, scrunching your nose and drawing your brows together in a pinch.

“Why am I gonna ruin the surprise now, angel? C’mon, you’ll see.” Javi holds the door open for you before following you inside. A hand is kept protectively on your back over to the staircase, stacks of books that look as if they’re stolen from a library lining the walls and the wide staircase. Ascending up to the second level, you comb your eyes over the open floor plan, Javi stepping over to a host’s stand to your right.

It’s dark, warm mood lighting illuminating the space minimally. Each small table has one of those built-in desk lamps you recognize from the outdated furniture in the university library, worn and stained wooden floors and tables fill up the restaurant area. The bar is made up of old bookshelves, still filled with books at the front and every chair or stool or booth is softened leather of all different jewel tones — emerald, sapphire, ruby, and amber.

If you were to ever design a restaurant, it would surely be something like this. It's a mix of that book, paper smell with delicious food being made, and there’s a quiet hum of chatter and music that isn’t overwhelming.

It’s the “if you know, you know”, off the beaten path kind of place. 

And Javi wanted to take you here. He knew you would love it, he was excited to share it with you.

Again, with the being so fucking romantic and sweet and cute. Makes you want to smack his gorgeous face and walk away from it all so you don’t have to feel these feelings.

“They’re getting a table cleared now for us, angel. Should be a few minutes, you want to sit at the bar and grab a drink?” Javi saddles up next to you, grin tugging up one side of his mouth and exposing the dimple on his right cheek.

For a minute, all you can do is take in the sight of him. Groomed brown locks with the hint of an unruly curl at the nape of his neck. Quaffed mustache, likely trimmed today for the occasion of meeting up with you. Wide, rounded soft brown eyes that are looking at you with all the patience and affection in the world. Plush, pillowy lips that sit in a constant pout and make you want to kiss them all the time.

God, he’s fucking beautiful.

Why does he have to be such a good man too? Can’t he be an asshole for your sake?

“Y’alright, cariño? We can go somewhere else if you want, just thought you might like this place and—“

Cutting him off with a hand on his cheek, you smile widely, shaking your head, “I don’t wanna go, this place is wonderful. I love it….Thank you for bringing me here.”

He replicates your grin and shrugs off your gratitude, leaning in and kissing you chastely.

“Let’s go get a drink, mi maltenida.”

Javier gives you the last seat at the bar, leaning against the surface standing next to you, chest facing toward your seat and neck cranes to the side to grab the bartender’s attention. He’s got a hand on you constantly: roaming from your back over your waist and down to your hip before coasting along your thigh and doing it all in reverse. He orders for you, remembering what you got the last time you two were together and ordering his usual whiskey. After the bartender walks away, he turns to face you and his mouth forms a small ‘o’ in realization.

“I didn’t even ask if you wanted anything different. M’sorry, angel. Did you want to try something else? I’ll grab the bartender again.” He already turning away before you can answer, your hand reaching out for his that starts to extend up in a wave to the server.

“S’totally fine, Javi. Cálmate.” His eyes snap to yours at the sound of your accent being pulled out for your basic Spanish knowledge, a wide grin crossing his face.

“Aye, mi maltenida sabe español? Qué? (Oh, my sugar baby knows Spanish? What?)” his voice slips easily into his accent, the words effortlessly falling off of his tongue in his first language, “Eres la mujer más hermosa del sitio. Puedes entender lo que estoy diciendo, cariño? (You are the most beautiful woman in the place. Can you understand what I’m saying, darling?)”

“Um, un poco? I have the most minimal understanding and am terrible at speaking. I’m in a level 200 class right now and struggling to keep up,” you chuckle, taking a sip of your drink once the glasses are dropped off by the bartender.

“You don’t sound half bad to me, angel. Takes some practice to really get into it, but I’m sure you’ll be much more comfortable with it by the end of the year,” he smirks and leans in, lips close to your ear, “Plus, I can tutor you. One-on-one. Qué te parece? Puedo enseñarte mucho más que tu profesor.”

“You’re going to have to clue me in here, Javi. No entiendo.”

“I asked ‘How does that sound?’ And then I said ‘I can teach you much more than your professor.’”

“Oh, is that right? And what would you teach me?” You match his smirk, scooting to the edge of the stool with his hand gripping your hip a bit harder than before.

“Mm, cosas sucias.” His tongue peeks out to swipe along his bottom lip as he eyes your own mouth, translating without your request. “Dirty things. You want that, angel?”

A nod from you grows his smirk before you’re fully inching closer, pressing your lips to his in a slow, sensual kiss. There’s a bit of a push and pull before he wins out the upper hand, slanting his mouth against yours with quiet exhales.

Another thing to be angry about with this man: he’s a great fucking kisser.

Javier is the first to pull away, leaving you with one last quick peck before he sips his drink, glancing over his shoulder when the host comes by to seat you both. Javi backs up, helping you off of the stool and leaving behind your empty glasses on the bar. You walk next to him, following the host to a booth toward the back. Javier takes a seat on one side of the booth, expecting you to take the other. He’s surprised when you smile shyly, stepping toward his side and sliding in next to him. Backing up toward the inside, he bites back a wild grin at your move, cheating himself toward you.

Damn, he should’ve thought of that move in the moment. But to be honest, he’s glad you’re the one who made the move.

The reassurance calms his constant buzz of nerves, relaxing him as you now look to be the shy one.

“Is this okay? Probably should’ve asked,” your voice is gentle, well-mannered as you question him. Javi scoots closer, stretching an arm onto the top of the booth behind you and circles the knuckle of his index finger featherlight on your shoulder.

“More than okay, angel. Trust me.” He can’t help the grin on his face when he leans in, kissing you lightly and feeling your own smile against his lips.

With another inhale of your perfume mixed with your shampoo, he presses a kiss to your temple before turning to the menu on the table, looking it over with you.

“Gonna get the same thing, cariño?”

“Nah, I think I’m going to try one of their specialty cocktails. They're all named after books, it’s so fun.” Glancing at him, he can see the joy in your eyes and it makes his heartbeat double, looking back to the list.

“Well, which one are you going for?”

“I think I’m gonna do the Gin Eyre. It’s got a dash of sweetener, lemon, mint, and some orange bitters it says. Sounds good.” A faint chuckle slips from your lips, combing over the list. “You should try this one, Javi. The Catcher in the Rye. S’got whiskey, and then sherry, orange liqueur, something called Torani Amer, and bitters. I think you’d like it.”

You meet his eyes and he shrugs, “I dunno know, angel. Whiskey is my favorite but I’m more of a no-frills kind of guy when it comes to my drink.”

“Oh, c’mon, it’ll be fun. I’ll buy you a different one if you hate it. But you can get whiskey at any bar, this place is the only place that’s gonna serve a drink named after a Salinger book,” you plead and pout your bottom lip, fluttering your lashes as Javier tries to hold out. After another moment he sighs and rests his chin on your shoulder, squeezing you closer when his arm wraps around you.

“That look is pretty devious, cariño. How am I meant to say no to that?” He raises his eyebrows and presses his lips together when you laugh, smirking at him with a small lift of your shoulders.

“Guess you’re not supposed to say no.”

“Mhmm, devious, mi maltenida. Devious.”

At that moment, your server comes by to take your order, you giving him the drinks and telling Javi to order whatever food looks good to him. Once everything’s put in, you turn back to him while he leans into the corner of the booth, gently coaxing you closer.

“So if you’re gonna be my tutor, can you answer one question I have?”

“Course I can, ask away.”

“What does ‘mi maltenida’ mean? I’ve heard you say it a few times to me but I have no idea what it means but it sounds bad cause it’s got ‘mal’ in it.” Fingertips graze along his thigh closest to you, his arm around your lower waist coasting up and down your side a few inches.

“S’not bad, necessarily. Sure, it probably has a negative connotation in some circumstances but I mean it as something cute,” he clears his throat and pauses the roaming of his fingers, “Mi maltenida is my sugar baby.”

“Javi! I don’t wanna be called that, that sounds so bad.” Arms crossed in front of your chest, your touch leaves his thigh and you move to face forward with a pout.

“Hey, cariño, I said it didn't mean anything bad. I mean it as a term of affection. You’re so sweet and I like reminding you.”

“Doesn’t feel sweet. It literally has the word bad in the spelling of the word.” You pout more, and when Javi takes your chin between his thumb and index finger, he turns your face up to see genuine upset in your eyes.

“M’sorry, cariño, I was just teasing when I started calling you that. I won’t anymore, promise.”

“Is there something better out there? I like being something to you, just not something like that…” you trail off, not bothering to repeat the translated words. They make you feel dirty, like your feelings in your chest and your stomach right now, your nerves and excitement around this man, aren’t genuine when you reduce your relationship down to that. It makes you feel icky, that dark turn of your insides tugging the corners of your lips down.

“Hmm, what about mi bebita? That sound better to you?”

“What’s that mean? Little baby? I don’t know about th—“

“Babygirl. My babygirl,” Javi kisses the corner of your lips, his own smile peeking through. The press of his lips trails along your jaw and to your ear, until he can speak to you with a low, reverberating roll of his voice, “You wanna be my bebita? Would that make you happy?”

His voice is spreading heat along your neck and down your spine, settling in a syrupy pool between your legs. A languid nod rolls your head, Javi’s fingers once again turning your chin to face him.

“Can I hear you say it, please?”

A quiet clear of your throat pulls your voice back, responding to his request, “I wanna be your bebita.”

He hums with a satisfied smirk, closing the gap between you two to press a light kiss to your lips. Pulling away with a quiet smack of his lips, his hand drops to the top of your thigh and rubs gentle circles toward your center.

“Such a good girl for me. You gonna let me take care of you, bebita? That’s all I wanna do for you. Whatever you want, bebita, you can have from me.”

Underneath the skirt of your dress, you can feel your panties sticking to the wetness gathering there. As you’re nearly about to spread your legs and let him have you right there, the server returns with your drinks and food.

Javi pulls away from you, hand on your thigh possessively when the waiter checks you out from his higher vantage point. The burn of his stare crosses over your chest and your legs, bare from the mid-thigh down. The lick of his lips instantly makes you feel like prey, turning into the booth toward Javi to hide yourself even a little bit. At the discomfort of the wandering pair of eyes on you, your legs cross at your thighs and trap Javi’s hand there, one of your own holding onto his wrist.

There’s a clipped ‘thank you’ from your man at the table once everything is delivered, dismissing the younger guy and slipping his hand from between your thighs. There’s no acknowledgement made of the moment, only Javi running his hand across your back soothingly and picking up conversation about something else, immediately taking your mind off of the uncomfortable interaction.

Turns out you were right, and Javi loves the drink you asked him to get. The two of you share both of them, enjoying the picky bits that Javi chose from the menu. Conversation is easy, as always, and the room falls away around you as you get wrapped up in each other.

A small tug in his gut brings him to ask, “Did you draw in class a few weeks ago?”

You pause your search for the perfect fry, looking up at Javi with your hand frozen, “Uh, yeah, I think so….I kind of doodle in every class, it helps me focus. I can stop if—“

“No, no need. I was asking cause, well, I found one of your drawings after class a few weeks ago. It was at the desk you use and it was of me, I think.”

A quiet groan rolls from your throat, shoulders slumping as you shake your head and resume your fry search.

“God, that’s so embarrassing. Please tell me you threw it out.”

“No, fuck no. I kept it. Sits in my desk drawer and I take it out whenever m’thinking about you. Think it’s cute that I was your muse for the day,” he chuckles with a wide grin, leaning into the corner and admiring you with tender eyes.

“You kept it? As in, you still have it? Why? We weren’t even really anything back when I did that.”

“Told you, bebita, got a big ol’ crush on you.”

It’s another couple of hours and only a few drinks later that the bartender makes their rounds to announce closing. Your conversation took most of your attention for the evening, gently taking Javi’s wrist and checking the time on his watch.

“God, I didn’t even realize how late it was. Feels like it’s only been like an hour since we got here,” you laugh quietly as Javi signs the check, leaning over and pressing a supple kiss to his lips, “Thank you for tonight.”

A couple more kisses are shared before he leans back, smiling softly at you, “Thank you, bebita. I really like spending time with you.”

You slip out of the booth first and watch as Javi stands, groaning quietly before his hands find you again, wrapping you up close to him as you both make your way out of the bar.

“You need a ride home, angel?”

A tingle settles in the back of your neck, blossoming across your whole body as you look at him with your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Actually, I was thinkin’ that maybe we could keep tonight going. Maybe you could show me your place?” Eyebrows raised, you wait for his response as it slowly registers for him, an eager nod bobbing his head up and down.

“Yeah, yeah. Definitely. My place.”

Javier knows he drove as if he was in the streets of Colombia again; speeding when he could and on the edge of his seat, nerves fried from the excitement and adrenaline he felt.

But there isn’t a part of him that regrets it, opening the door to his apartment and letting you in ahead of him. You glance around the space, setting your bag down on the kitchen counter next to you as he walks up behind you after locking the door.

Hooking his arms around your waist, you turn around to face him, biting back you grin as he meets your eyes. Fingertips coast across your back, palms moving to your hips and tugging you to press against him.

“What d’ya think of the place, hm?”

“S’nice. But you haven’t given me a tour, wanna see your room.”

“Yeah? I’ll show you, bebita.” He smirks as he meets your lips with his in a heavy kiss, hands at your hips gripping tighter and starting to walk you backward. A muffled whimper parts your lips enough for him to lick into your mouth, both moaning as your tongues meld together. All the way back to his bedroom, he hasn’t taken his lips from yours. Crossing the threshold, he pulls his lips away, trailing heady kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

You stretch back and gasp with a sharp inhale as he bites at the base of your neck, nipping and soothing the marks with his tongue. A glance around his room proves you right from your guesses about how he keeps his space: minimal decoration, one or two photos strewn around, and warm wooden furniture with dark toned bedding and soft furnishings. It’s welcoming, but a bit sad that he doesn’t have much expression. The difference between his and your place is a bit astounding.

What will he think when he sees yours?

When he sees yours? God, no one has ever been to yours out of all your arrangements and with one night with him you’re going to already be calling him to come over. 

It feels a bit out of your control at the moment, your imagination running wild with feelings that are tamped down inside. Something snaps back into place in your mind, closing that part off and begging you to get some control of the situation. Lacing your fingers in his hair, you pull him out from the crook of your neck, smirking at him and kissing him, leading with much more fervor than before.

He bends to your guide, letting you lead him back to his bed, sitting down at the edge when his knees hit the mattress. Pawing at your waist, hips, and grabbing handfuls of your ass, Javi groans against your lips and pulls away only enough to speak.

“Can I take this pretty dress off, angel?”

You nod, a soft ‘yes’ breathed out in response before the material is being pulled over your head and tossed to the side along with the small shrug cardigan you were wearing. Javi’s eyes drink in your body greedily, standing before him in some off-white lingerie. His tongue swipes along his bottom lip, hands moving of their own volition as they run over your curves and thighs, settling under the cups holding up your breasts.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, bebita. Did you wear this for me?” Hands squeeze your breasts over the lace, a whimper involuntarily sounding at the feeling of his hands on you.

“Yeah, yeah I did. Thought you would like it.”

“Mm, I love it, mi bebita. But I want to take this off of you, can I? I wanna see you, amante.” The band of your bra guides him around to your back, fingers tracing over the clasp.

“You have to take this off then.” You tug on his button up under the jacket he still has on, letting him unclasp your bra and slide it down your arms to discard where your dress ended up. Before he can make any move for your newly bare skin, you lift your arms and start to unbutton his shirt. Javi shrugs off his jacket while you work his buttons, grabbing you by the swell of your ass and pulling you down to straddle his denim covered bulge.

“God, babygirl, wanted you so bad. Y’know I couldn’t get my dirty thoughts about you out of my head, every single class,” his voice gets muffled as he nibbles at the crook of your neck again, making you giggle smugly.

“Is that right? What would you think about?” The last button slips through the hole, allowing you to push the fabric off of his shoulders and leaving it to fall back onto the bed. Your own hands roam across his sturdy, solid chest and broad shoulders, down to his soft tummy. Leaning in, your own lips work at his jaw, starting a slow roll of your hips against his hardness.

“Fuck…” he exhales before his head falls back, voice rumbling from his chest and coated with arousal, “Thought about—Thought about what kind of sounds you’d make for me, if you tasted as sweet as you act…Thought many, many times about what that mouth of yours would look like around my cock…”

Even his words cause you to whimper, chastising yourself internally for the hold he has on you. Peeling yourself away, you stand up in front of him, folding over to kiss him sweet and slow before you drop to your knees.

“I can show you what it looks like, Javi, if you want.”

No one else has made you ever feel like this, and it is terrifying.

And you’re going to whatever you can to disarm this feeling inside of you.

“Oh, hell yes — I mean, yes, please. Quiero verlo, por favor (I want to see it, please).” Javi can hear how desperate he sounds in the moment, aching for some relief and salivating over the view of you on your knees in front of him.

Inching closer, you spread his legs apart to settle between them. Featherlight kisses pressed against his thighs and up to his crotch, shuddering out a breath as your lips ghost along the outline of his cock. You rub your cheek against the bulge, whining to yourself before nimble fingers open his belt buckle, pop the button and drag the zipper down on his jeans. He helps you out by lifting his hips, your hands hooking together his jeans and briefs to tug them down to his ankles.

Javier kicks one of his ankles out, looking down at you, licking your lips and smiling up at him. His brain short circuits as he watches you move your head over his cock, dribbling saliva onto it before wrapping your hand around and starting slow, teasing strokes.

“Knew you were a pretty man, but you really are pretty everywhere,” he exhales sharply when your thumb circles the head of his cock, shaking his head at your devious smirk.

“Y’like it, bebita? S’all yours. Lemme feel that little mouth of yours.”

On the next downstroke you make, you flick your tongue against his tip before taking it in your mouth. He shudders out a quiet moan, keeping his eyes glued to you as you take a few more of his inches and swirl your tongue around him.

“You look even better than I imagined sucking my cock, angel. Fucking hell, babygirl, jus’like that.” He exhales content when you have most of him in your mouth, cheeks hollowed out. Your hand continues to work around the base of him, a rhythm being built with the bobbing of your head.

“Mm, such a good girl. Taking my cock so well, bebita, feels so good…” Javi’s hands itch to touch you, one running down the column of your throat before it snakes around to the nape of your neck. The other brushes baby hairs from your face, smirking down at you. “Think you can handle all of me, angel? Your mouth feels so fucking good, I want all of it. Want to feel me hit right here…”

His words are punctuated with the hand at your hair trailing down to your throat, gently running his thumb back and forth over the center of it.

“Can you take it? Be my good little slut?”

It’s not the first time you’ve been in this scenario and been called something of the sort, but it is definitely the first time that the words shoot straight to your cunt, flooding between your legs. A whimper is stifled around his cock and his eyebrow quirks, hand petting at the back of your neck.

“Does mi bebita like being called my little slut? Mi zorrita (My little slut)? Knew you were gonna be so good at sucking my cock when I first saw you in your little plaid skirt and that tight fucking t-shirt of yours. And with those glossy plush lips of yours. You wanted to get my attention didn’t you?”

In response, you hum and take him all, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. You hold back a gag, tears filling your eyes as you breathe through your nose and dig your nails into his thighs.

“Oh, fuck yes! Fuck, fuck, yeah jus’like, angel. Oh, so good for me, bebita. So fucking good.” Javi’s hips jerk off the bed, pushing him further into your throat and hitting harder at the back of it. You really gag around him, the sensation causing a loud moan from him and his head rolling back. The hand at your neck clutches tighter, thrusts of his hips moving him subtly.

With a vice grip on his thighs, nearly drawing blood, he stills and you pull off for a breath. Heavy inhales and exhales fill your lungs with air as he pets your head while you stroke his cock covered in your spit.

“Y’okay, mi bebita?” When you nod and sigh out a tiny ‘yes’, he takes your chin between his fingers and tugs it open once your breathing is steadied. “You gonna keep being my perfect, sweet slut for me, angel? You’re such a good girl. Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”

“Mhm, I wanna make you come, Javi. Please.”

With a dark chuckle he nods, one hand stilling yours on his length and guiding it back to your open mouth, “G’head, bebita, be a good girl and make me come.”

Your need to please him clicks on, eagerly licking up the underside of him as you stroke him faster. Getting as close as you can, you take one of his balls in your mouth, rolling your tongue around before giving the same attention to the other and releasing it with a pop. Above you, Javi’s chest is moving quickly with deep breaths, some moans slipping out when it feels too good.

You take all of him again, swallowing around him and gagging, taking all the small thrusts he jerks out. Tears fall down your cheeks and he whispers praises in the same breaths as the filthiest things, all of it making the ache between your thighs worse.

Fuck him for making you so fucking turned on you’re going to have to fuck your vibrator when you get home.

“Mhm, yeah, good girl. Fuck, m’close, angel, keep going. Please, oh shit, yeah—”His own adlibs are interrupted by his loud, rumbling moan as he holds your head and starts to come. Ropes of his release fill your mouth, Javi gently pulling his cock out and you closing your mouth to keep it all in.

“Lemme see, bebita, wanna see you with my come in your mouth.” His voice is breathy as he recovers, jaw dropping slightly open in awe when you show him. Rolling it on your tongue he swipes the few beads that leaked out and sticks his thumb in between your lips. “Swallow.”

Following his orders, you swallow all of his spend, catching your breath when he pulls his thumb from your mouth. You pat his thighs and stand, taking one step to go put on your dress when his hand reaches out to stop you, holding your hip.

“Where d’you think you’re going?” His brows knit together, mouth tugged down at the corners. You look at him equally confused, turning toward him and point to your clothes.

“Getting dressed?”

“Why?”

“Cause you finished?”

“What?”

“What d’you mean ‘what’?”

“What d’you mean ‘cause you finished’?”

“I mean, thought we were done here. Unless you want me to stay until you can go again…?”

“Angel, respectfully, what the hell are you on about? Why the hell would I let you leave my fucking room, let alone my apartment and go home, and not have gotten the chance to even touch you?”

You stutter for a moment, taken aback by his adamant questioning. Never has this happened before with any of your other clients, normally getting them off with your mouth or by fucking them, but never did they want you to stick around for them to make you come.

“Bebita, beautiful, may I please taste you? Been dreaming about it for weeks…”

“Um, I do want you to but you don’t have to feel obligated. I mean normally it doesn’t happen—”

There’s that same flash of anger in his chest that he’s felt with you before, too jaded to be able to see what you’re really worth.

Fucking golden, that’s what you are. Any man who’s been with you, arranged or not, should be so fucking lucky to see you come undone.

“Okay, fuck whoever has made you feel like you don’t deserve that. I don’t feel obligated or anything of the sort, I want to. I’m begging, bebita, please, let me make you feel good.” His hands run up and down from your thighs to your hips, Javi looking up at you from his seat on the bed with those rounded, softened puppy eyes.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yes, okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Javi, if you ask again, I will actually get dres—“

“No, nope, no. I’ll shut up, just c’mere.” His hands palm your ass, toying with the lace of your panties and moving you between his legs. Kisses are peppered on your abdomen, blowing his breath across your skin and raising goosebumps. His nose presses into your skin as he gently nips and sucks and soothes different spots; your fingers run through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead.

“Javi…”

“So soft, angel,” he hums, vibrations sent across your torso before he’s standing, turning you both around quickly and guiding you back onto the bed, “Lay back, bebita. M’gonna take care of you.”

There’s a stirring in your gut, nerves high as you scoot back on his mattress. Javi climbs over you, crowding you back against the duvet as he catches your lips with his. Heady kisses are exchanged, one of his large hands coming to your chest and squeezing gently before he pulls off of your mouth and latches his lips to your pebbled nipple.

A whimper cuts out in your throat, holding back as much as you can to stay quiet. Javi mirrors his actions on your other breast before scooting down your abdomen, littering kisses until he settles between your legs. Two of his fingers hook in your panties, pulling them off of you and tossing them aside. Awe fills his eyes as he spreads your folds, licking his lips hungrily.

“Made such a mess, angel. Fucking drenched for me. You were gonna leave all riled up like this, bebita?” His tongue tsks behind his teeth, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Such a good, perfect girl like you doesn’t deserve to have to take care of herself. That’s what I’m here for, cariño.”

Your response catches in your throat when his fingers rub circles into your clit, smirk raising on his face when your own contorts with pleasure. The heel of his palm takes over when his thick fingers tease your entrance, one slowly filling you up and thrusting in and out at a lazy pace.

More wetness pools between your legs, seeping from your cunt and allows Javi to add a second finger, the slight stretch making you wiggle below him. His eyes are glued to your pussy, mesmerized by the sight of his fingers fucking your tight hole, spreading and opening his fingers for a wide stretch.

Javi folds over, saliva coating his mouth as he dives for a taste of you, mouth attaching to your clit and sucking gently.

More whimpers leave your mouth involuntarily as pressure builds inside, Javi pulling away only to acknowledge your feelings.

“I know, bebita, I know. Gonna make you feel so fucking good.”

Obscene noises, lewd and wanton, fill the room as his fingers fuck into the wetness seeping out of your cunt. It’s all you can hear as you hold in your own noises, feeling like if you opened your mouth, his neighbors would think he was making a porno.

His attention is focused back on your pussy, thrusting his fingers into you a tiny bit faster and sucking your clit harder. Your hands clutch the top of his hair, tugging and pulling as he brings you to the edge, pathetically quickly to you, but it’s been a long time since someone else has touched you with such an attentive attitude.

A satisfied hum is felt against your folds, suckling noises filling the air as Javi attempts to drink all that you have to offer him.

“Taste so fucking good, angel. Like heaven.”

His mouth and fingers don’t leave you after the first one; the sight of you coming undone for him flipped something inside, and he is desperate to see it again. He moves faster this time, building off of what he’s already learned you like from him. Fingers hook against that spot inside of you, jerking your hips up off the bed as his tongue flicks over your clit, licking like a kitten lapping milk.

Still burning from your first orgasm, your hands tangled in his hair attempt to pull him away from your cunt, desperate for a break as new pressure, more intense than the first go-round, floods inside of you and makes every muscle ache. Javi grunts at your attempts, his free hand gathering both of your weakened wrists in one grip and pressing them into your lower abdomen. The press from both sides, hands on your stomach and fingers inside of you, adds to the tangible tension covering you.

His fingers and tongue swap, licking into your entrance and fucking you on his mouth with his nose nudging your clit. A finger teases your tighter hole, muscle contracting and breath caught in your throat as he repeats all of the motions over and over.

As your second orgasm builds inside of you, a tight coil winding around and around in your gut, you attempt to hold in your sounds. You think, because in the past it’s been all about your client’s pleasure, you need to stay quiet, letting Javi do whatever he wants to you without an interruption from you. 

Attempting to stay quiet for him, you writhe under him, his grip on your wrists tightening as you try to lessen the stimulation from him between your legs. Pleasure blankets your body, tiny sobs wracking your body as you try to let your moans die in your throat. Javi feels the convulsions of your abdomen, hearing the little sounds from you and pulling his mouth away to look at you properly. 

Brows furrowed, skin sheened with sweat and frustration evident in your expression and tension from the stimulation he’s giving you. The two fingers that were inside of you move up to press in between your lips, hooking his fingers behind your bottom teeth and opening your mouth.

“Oh, baby, feels good, yeah? Your body wants you to make some noise, huh? Moans, whimpers?” Your whines answer him enough, fingers still holding your mouth open. “Don’t hold back. Want you to be fucking loud for me, bebita. Wanna hear you. Hear those pretty sounds you make when you fall apart on my tongue.”

He slinks down your body again, replacing his fingers inside of you with his muscular tongue, fucking in and out of you at an agonizing pace. Slow, deliberate circles on your clit twists your insides tighter and tighter, unable to hold back your sounds anymore.

Whimpers lift your chest up and down shallowly, Javi’s name leaving your mouth like a prayer. Without your hands to hold him closer, you lift your hips and grind against your mouth, gasping at the vibration of his own moan against your cunt.

“Javi, oh my god, please. Need a little bit more, please.” You beg, wiggling under him and being pressed into the mattress by his hand gripping your wrists against your stomach.

The second time around comes much quicker, your push clenching around his tongue as you come, whining from the pleasure melting into your muscles.

“Fuck, Javi…” you say with a sigh, lifting up to look at him still between your legs. His fingers coast along your dripping folds, sensitivity jerking your hips and thighs as he smirks smugly at the sight. Greed fills his eyes when he meets your gaze, licking his lips as he kisses the curls on your mound.

“One more.”

“Javi, I don’t think—“

“One more, bebita, por favor. Please.”

His tongue swipes over your clit, gathering your wetness and swirling the muscle around the sensitive bundle of nerves. A kiss pressed there makes a whine leave your mouth, encouragement for him to start playing with your pussy again.

“You can do it for me, bebita. One more and that’s it.” Two of his fingers easily slip inside of you from your come coating your folds, a languid and lazy pace building up to something more steady as your whines and whimpers grow louder.

“Yeah, tell me about it, baby. How good does it feel?”

“So—so good. Can’t even, fuck, can’t even think straight.”

“Mm, such a good girl for me. Relax, bebita, I’m gonna take care of you again.”

The pace he built is plateaued to build your stimulation before he picks up more speed. His two fingers move quickly, hooking inside of you to press against that spot inside of you repeatedly. His tongue on your clit circles in sync, your mind solely on the sensations he’s providing you. The rest of your body is heavy from the two previous orgasms, unable to fight the overstimulation as he fucks his thick fingers into you at a delicious pace.

An overwhelming warm feeling drops to your pelvic area, feeling familiar and putting you on edge as you try to get him to release your hands to try to push his face away when Javi adds his tongue to your entrance with his fingers.

“Fuck, Javi! Stop I’m gonna — Oh my god, it feels different, feels like—like I’m gonna pee.”

His fingers continue as he pulls his mouth away to rumble out his words, coated in arousal.

“S’okay, bebita, just trust me. Relax, baby, let it happen.”

His voice is gentle and reassuring, skepticism still present as you focus on the pleasure again, burning hot in your torso. Your body relaxes again, his hand pressing your wrist into your lower stomach and fingers hitting the roughened spot inside of you while sobs wrack your body.

Pleasure blinds you as it finally overtakes, his name erupting from your chest in a moan. A warm, liquid feeling spreads across your body, feeling a much more intense release that makes you squeeze your eyes shut, flipping your hands over in Javi’s to hold him tightly.

Opening up your eyes again, you look down your body to Javi lifting his head from between your legs, damp across the lower half of his face and the same glistening on his neck. You wiggle again feeling a large wet spot under you and immediately feeling your stomach drop when you realize what happened.

“Mierda, bebita. So fucking sexy. Doing that for me the first time, m’gonna wanna be greedy and see you do it every time now.” You hide your face in your hands, shaking your head and feeling heat spread across your face and neck.

“I’ve never—” you barely manage to breathe out the two words, Javi leaning his head on your thigh as he stays mesmerized by the sight of your dripping cunt.

“Nuh uh, angel, don’t be shy. Fucking loved it.” He turns to press a kiss on your inner thigh, nuzzling his nose against the pillowy skin.

There’s no thoughts in your head, no words in your mind as you catch your breath following your last orgasm. Your chest heaves, quick inhales to fill your lungs and replenish the oxygen in your blood to get your brain started again.

Clarity spreads in your consciousness, hearing Javi’s voice from between your legs, “What do you say, bebita?”

Brows knit together, you move to sit up and support yourself on your hands, you sigh out as you look down at him. “Huh?”

“Where are your manners, angel? What do you say?” Awaiting your response, he punctuates his question with a swipe of his tongue over your ultra sensitive clit, making your thighs quiver and hips attempt to jerk away from his hold.

Attempting to follow his questioning, you take another second before timidly saying, “Thank you?”

“That’s my good girl.” His smirk grows as he climbs over you again, kissing you gently. A tender look filled with affection faces you, Javi gently running his fingers over your skin. Silence falls between you two before you’re nodding for him to stand, getting off of his bed and looking around for your underwear.

“Um, d’you wanna stay? You can if you’d like to. I mean, I’d like you to if you’re comfortable with it. Jus’thought you might wanna cause it’s late.”

You want to. You definitely want to.

But you shouldn’t. You can’t.

That’s a far more personal line, an intimacy of falling asleep with him and waking up in the morning that has your heart pumping but your mind yelling at you that this is still your job, no matter what feelings are involved.

“Oh, um, next time? I have so much to do in the morning and I have a feeling if I stayed, I probably wouldn’t go home until Monday.” You smile sweetly at him, stepping into your panties and grabbing your bra off the floor.

Javi chuckles and nods, stepping over to you and hooking his arms behind your back. “Probably right about that, angel.”

You give him a peck and reach behind you to clasp your bra, adjusting the straps to your shoulders. Javi steps away from you, grabbing his briefs and jeans, starting to gets dressed himself.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed?”

“Why?”

“To drive you home?”

“You don’t have to do that. I can take the bus or a cab.”

“You’re not taking anything besides a ride in my car from me. S’late and I’m not letting you go home alone.”

“Really, Javi, you don’t have to drive me. I can manage.”

Why is he so stubborn?

You attempt to ignore the warmth his protectiveness is blanketing you in, shoving it all into the neat little box you’re attempting to keep everything Javi in.

He watches as you pick up your dress, sighing to himself and shaking his head as he finds himself wishing you would stay tonight. But if you aren’t staying, there’s no way in hell he was letting you walk out the door without him in tow to get you home safely. He wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight otherwise, but if he told you that, he thinks you’d be out the door before he could blink.

Why are you so stubborn?

“I know you can. I trust you, I don’t trust everyone else. Sorry, bebita, but m’not arguing with you.” He zips and buttons his jeans before reaching for a white t-shirt on the back of his desk chair and pulling it over his head as you put your dress back on along with your sweater.

“Okay, okay. You can drive me if it makes you feel better.” You finish fixing your clothes and start to head toward the front door to get your bag and shoes. Before you can leave his room, his arm blocks your way out of the doorway, you turning your head to face him.

“It would make me feel better. Thank you, baby.” He smiles subtly, trying to get a grin out of you and succeeding. Heartbeats run at the same speeds in your chests, unknowingly, as you take a moment to look into each other’s eyes. Within the next second, Javi kisses you one last time before dropping his arm and following you out of his room. Both of you get your shoes on, you grabbing your bag and heading out of his apartment and to his car.

The engine cuts in front of your building, Javi jumping out before you can say goodnight and circling around the hood of the car to open the passenger side door. He shuts it behind you and takes your hand, looking both ways before leading you across the street. Standing behind you, closest to the street, as you unlock the three flat’s front door, you take his hand this time, pulling him inside and up the stairs. At the second floor, you slow in front of your door and turn around to him, biting your bottom lip as he gives you a sleepy grin.

“Thank you for letting me bring you home safe. Now I might be able to sleep tonight,” he chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead, “And thank you for coming out with me tonight. Really enjoyed myself, bebita.”

“I enjoyed myself too, Javi. Thank you for tonight. Like, really, thank you.” You double down, the message received from the repeated ‘thanks’ that are insinuating your gratitude for how the two of you ended the night.

“My pleasure, angel.” He laughs with you, quietly as to not disturb your neighbors before he tugs you into his chest, tilting his chin in to kiss you sweetly.

You pout when he pulls away first, grinning when he pecks your pushed out lips.

“Goodnight, mi bebita. I’ll call you tomorrow? See how all the homework’s coming along?” He smirks as he taps your ass, unraveling from you to let you unlock your door.

“Night, Javi. Talk tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow, angel. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

Stepping inside and closing the door behind you, both of you turn away on either side of the door; you head to your room and he heads back to his car, both replaying the night over and over again, having the same thought:

This is different from anything else before.

taglist (everything/javi): @northernbluess @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsquill @yazsos @cartoon-garbage04 @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel

[foxes-that-run]

Only Angel

Only Angel has similarities to Meet me in the Hallway, they 2 of the 10 Haylor songs with Hallways. To me, it is related to So it Goes... which refers to when Taylor performed in the 2014 Victoria's Secret show. Harry performed Only Angel at the 2017 VS show. I have always heard this song to be an assurance to Taylor that she is his 'only angel', like in As it was, she cannot be replaced with girls that 'look just like her' in MMIH Possibly because he was seen with Nadine Leopold soon after the 2014 VS show. It also references Van Morrison's Tupelo Honey which Harry included on his mix tape.

At 2 minutes into this Nashville performance Harry sings "Told her Little Brother" (2.09), further confirmation it is Haylor, with Austin Swift being younger than Taylor unlike Kendall's brother.

Only Angel was last played live in November 2021. It wasn’t at Coachella or after Harry’s House.

Original Lyrics

On 7 December 2023 the demo was leaked with different lyrics. Studio version is like a simplified, shortened and cleaned up radio edit. In the original, the muse has more agency (they knock), Harry has considered proposing 1000 times but it hasn't worked out and it's more explicit. The song also ends, then comes back like their relationship.

Close your eyes, shut your mouth and see That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me I'm just happy getting you stuck in between my teeth And hoping you don't shout about it Now I know a bunch of people who would waste your time But I wouldn't let it happen to a friend of mine We can write ourselves a story without doing lines 'Cause believe me, we can live without it, She's an angel[...] Broke a finger knocking on my bedroom door I got splinters in my knuckles crawling on the floor Could never take you home because your skirt's too short And my mother would be mad about it I must admit I married you a thousand times Had to change my tune when I found out what it’d be like But I meet you in the hallway almost anytime And we won't have to talk about it, yeah, She's an angel[...] She wants to be an angel just you wait and see. But it turns out she’s a devil in between the sheets and believe me I am all about it. Huh. Painted on you on your back, I knew we’d get along. But I caught you staring in the mirror way too long. I could love her if I didn’t think I’d do it wrong. I’m gonna have to take you home, She's an angel[...]

Lyrics

I saw this angel I really saw an angel Open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me I'm just happy getting you stuck in between my teeth And there's nothing I can do about it

The first verse, Harry is so drawn to his muse he can’t help winding up with her. They liken their connection to an addiction in MMIH, Clean and Grapejuice.

The “only one in love with me” is Harry calling himself a narcissist and I think refers to Fool’s Gold where he said “Yeah I know your love's not real / That's not the way it feels /That's not the way you feel”

But, like in Fools Gold and Stockholm Syndrome he can’t help himself, he desperately wants to be with this muse

Broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door I got splinters in my knuckles crawling across the floor Couldn't you take home to mother in a skirt that short But I think that's what I like about it

This verse starts with 2 references that are in other quite sad songs, but set to a dance beat. Something Harry later did so well in As it was:

Taylor also referred to Harry knocking on her door in Suburban Legends but very sadly “You don't knock anymore and my whole life's ruined”

Harry also referred again to being on the floor in Fine Line “And I don't wanna sleep in the dirt”

The short skirt is a reference to Style “And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt”

She's an angel Only angel She's an angel My only angel

This line to me is a response to Is it over now? “Your new girl is my clone”. To me, Harry was saying he only has one angel, as in Victoria’s Secret model, Taylor having performed in 2 VS shows in 2013 and 2014.

After 1989 was released and they broke up they both spent a lot of time with a lot of models. Read into that what you will, to me the role the VS after party plays in So it goes and IDWLF, and the clone line has me noodling on if they were both seeking each other rather than the models.

I must admit I thought I'd like to make you mine As I went about my business through the warning signs End up meeting in the hallway every single time And there's nothing we can do about it

I love ‘went about my business and want to make you mine’ to me it encapsulates what I imagine wasted Harry’s chill attitude at that time.

Ending up in hallways links this to MMIH and the 10 other mentions of hallways in their respective songs.

Told it to her brother and she told it to me That she's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets And there's nothing she can do about it Hey, hey

This line about her brother is thought to narrow the muse to KJ and TS, in the above live performance in Nashville Harry said little brother which would be Austin Swift. Harry also got on with Austin.

To me, she’s an Angel/devil is here is similar to Style, where Taylor had “good girl faith and a tight little skirt” both play on the idea of someone seeming good but being wild. Kiwi is also similar “hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect”

She's an angel Only angel x3 Wanna die, wanna die, wanna die tonight x3 My only angel She's an angel x3 My-my-my only angel

The refrain is repeating that she’s the only angel for him, and he wants to go to heaven.

Harry included Van Morrison's Tupelo Honey on his Another Man Mix Tape from an article while he was making this album. The outtro "She's an angel", which is also how Tupelo Honey ends. As Harry said to Rolling Stone:

“I don’t know much about Van Morrison’s life, but I know how he felt about this girl, because he put it in a song. So I like working the same way.”

[star-wrote]

i think i could get dean winchester to like the song “only angel” by harry styles.