#husband!javi

[notjustjavierpena]

Meadow (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

My last fic here in a while. Please consider following me on AO3 💖❤️

Summary: Javier hears you singing to his newborn.

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)

Tags: Domestic, sugary fluff, Javi POV, babies!

Word count: 850

Meadow

Javier tries to be quiet as he returns to you, carrying a stuffed Eeyore in his hand while listening for the sound of Inés' unhappy hiccups. He calculates his steps on the ground to make sure not to step on a twig or a branch, the crackle of it sure to distress his newborn even more.

He finds that the tall grass dotted with wildflowers and the soft earth is forgiving of his feet, so much so that his presence goes completely unnoticed by you. He never knew that this spot existed, having always treated the road as nothing more but a road until you showed him that its surroundings were so much more. There’s a metaphor somewhere in that, something about him just passing through and you making him able to stop and take a look around. 

The sun is warm on his exposed skin, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and you have convinced him to leave the jeans for a pair of comfortable slacks instead. He checks the time to see how long he has been gone and it’s nothing more than a few minutes, realizes that the sun is starting to fade from being at its highest point today. 

As he draws nearer to the spot you chose, Inés’ cries have died down completely until they are not heard at all. Instead, it is the soft sound of your voice that drifts through the air to him. You are singing quietly to his daughter, a lullaby that he remembers having heard before in a distant memory of his own childhood. 

A breeze rustles the leaves of the oak tree you sit beneath, its crown of leaves protecting you both from direct sunlight. As if forced by nature to relax, he hears the birds chirping too. This is peace and contentment, he thinks, and how wonderful it is to do nothing with the people that he loves the most. 

When he finally spots you, he finds you sitting on the blanket you brought with your sweater tucked underneath your slightly bent knees. Inés is resting in your lap, cradled by your soft arms, and sleeping soundly with her tiny fingers curled into fists. You are so beautiful as you stare down into his daughter’s blissful face, your smile even warmer in the soft glow of the sun. 

Occasionally, you run a thumb over the length of her nose but you never stop singing to her. The stuffed animal seems a waste of time now but if he hadn’t gotten it from the car, he would have never caught you like this. 

How has he gotten so lucky, he wonders, to have such an incredible woman to be the witness of his life? He cannot believe how sentimental you have made him, his chest aching as he watches your beauty grow even further as it is enhanced by the nature around you. More than a decade in Colombia and he thought he would never feel anything again. How ridiculous a thought that is. 

When he finally makes himself known again, bursting the bubble of quiet admiration he has been in, you turn your head when he kneels down beside you. You stop singing but Inés sleeps on.

Without a word, you notice Javier and then smile until it widens into a grin on your face that outshines the summer sunshine. He smiles back and places Eeyore on the ground in front of you, purposefully posing him to stand in the grass because you always hate when he is careless about stuffed toys. 

“I hope he doesn’t mind getting left in the car,” he whispers as he makes sure Eeyore won’t tip over, “Sorry it took a bit.”

“It’s okay,” you say quietly, “You have made it up to him; grass is his favorite.” 

“Papá! There are frogs here!” Suddenly, his four-year-old son emerges from somewhere in the tall grass, carrying a stick in his hand that he seems to be using as a sword. He grins widely as he approaches the three of you, nearly stumbling over his own feet as he walks quickly on the uneven ground and Javier holds out his hand in case he has to catch him.

“Careful, Muchacho (young man),” Javier chuckles, “You might scare them away if you trip.” 

“I found the biggest frog ever!” Lucas brags and falls into his father’s embrace, throwing his arms around his neck, “I want to show you!”

Javier looks at you to silently ask if you need him. Lucas presses on, “Come on, Dad!”

Inés fusses a little at being woken up by the noises around her. You take the stuffed animal and wiggle it in the air in front of her. You start singing again. It is something about meadows and daisies, something about being warm and kept from harm. 

“Go,” you stop briefly to urge him, “We’ll be here when you come back.”

And as Javier gets up from the ground and takes his son’s hand, he smiles because he knows that you will.

.

.

.

My last fic here in a while. Please consider following me on AO3 💖❤️

[honeyedmiller]

A Blissful Feeling | Javier Peña

pairing: husband!javier peña x wife!reader

rating: 18+, minors dni.

warnings: fluff, established relationship (marriage), smut (grinding, fingering, rimming [don’t look at me lol], f oral receiving, one (1) smack on the ass [if i remember correctly], unprotected piv, consensual choking, spitting, praise), small uses of spanish with translations at the end, uses of pet names in a loving manner, teasing, no use of y/n. please let me know if i missed anything.

word count: 4.1k

synopsis: You find out Javi is having a bad day at work, so you pay him a visit at the office.

divider by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

It was mornings like this that Javier wished he could stay in bed with you. Tangled in the sheets, bare skin against bare skin, soft lips brushing pulse points, and satiated grins adorning your lips as you stared at each other with pure love and awe. 

But, reality was an unwanted, cruel thing that wrapped herself around perfect mornings like ones like this. Ones where Javier is almost late to work because he can’t get enough of his beautiful wife, leaving him to rush out of the door with his thermos of coffee and a chaste kiss to the lips as a see you later, mi amor to you. 

That left you standing in the middle of the kitchen, bare feet on the cold tile floor as you leaned over the counter to make a list of all the errands you had to run today. Your silk robe was tied securely to your body, recalling that the material almost made its way off of you, courtesy of your husband’s needy hands. 

As much as you almost gave in to temptation, you didn’t need him to be chewed out by his coworkers for being late. They all loved and respected him at the Laredo sheriff's office, but to save him the humiliation, you mustered up more willpower than you wanted to and ultimately swatted his hands away. 

You knew he had a long work day ahead of him, though, and you missed him already. You loved your husband so dearly and being away from him for most of the day tugged at your heart. Some might call it clingy. You just call it being in love. 

You decided to get to work on your list anyhow, hoping that these errands and few chores would give you the perfect distraction from missing your sweet Javier too much. 

First up: tidy up the house. You put some music on and got to work, having the house cleaned in about an hour. You upkept with cleaning pretty well, so your intermittent cleaning wasn’t as tedious. Once you were done you showered and got ready for the day, sporting a cute christmas patterned sweater with some leggings Javier always said looked good on you. You smile faintly at your husband’s words, relishing in the recollection of them. 

The rest of the to-do list was pretty easy, considering it was mundane tasks like washing your car, putting gas in it, and grocery shopping. You also had a nail appointment lined up today, which you were excited for. You were feeling festive, so you wanted to go with something more Christmas themed. 

You decided to save grocery shopping for last, knowing it would take at least an hour and a half. The list you and Javier made last night was long, knowing you needed to restock on essentials and your favorite foods. 

You got washing your car and filling up the tank out of the way in twenty minutes, leaving you to head to the nail salon. While you were sitting in the chair mindlessly watching your nail tech paint your nails, your phone pinged with a text from Javi. 

Hi mi amor. How’s your day going so far? I miss you. 

You couldn’t help but smile foolishly at his text, making your heart flutter as you read the words over again. Six years together and two years married, and yet, he still made you feel so special—like the only girl in the room that mattered. 

Hi baby. I miss you too. It’s good, just got some stuff done off of my to-do list. How’s work? 

You respond as fast as you could with the hand thats nails weren’t being painted. 

He responded almost immediately to you.

That’s great, cariño. Work has been shitty today. Tipped my fresh coffee over by accident in the break room, and I couldn’t make myself a new cup since we ran out of coffee grounds. Nobody around here seems to know how to do their job today. Wish I was back in bed with you. 

Your smile falters at his text. You hated seeing him so stressed, wishing you could take it all away in an instant. 

Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that, amor. I’ll make you whatever you want for dinner tonight and give you a nice back massage. How’s that sound? ;) 

You’re hopeful your offer lightens his mood a little bit, but another idea skimmed your mind. You looked at your watch-clad wrist, seeing it was only eleven thirty. You decided you’d try and brighten his day sooner by surprising him with lunch at his job. 

Part of you wanted to go anyway just to see him and kiss him, telling him the stress of the day will go away when he comes back to a nice clean house and a home cooked meal waiting for him after he gets off of work. 

Sounds great, baby. Can’t wait. 

You heart the message and finish up with your nails, paying your tech and tipping her for doing an incredible job. You contemplate where to get lunch, and you ultimately decide on this Mediterranean spot you both love. It’s down the block from the sheriff’s office, so it was perfect. 

Within twenty minutes, you were heading down the road to see your husband. You pulled up to the sheriff’s office, greeting the familiar receptionist with a smile. 

“Doreen! How are you today?” You smile, and her grin reflects yours. The sweet older lady always enjoyed chatting with you, loving when you paid the office a visit. 

“Mrs. Peña! What a nice surprise. I’m good dear, how are you?” She asks, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. 

“I’m great, thank you. Glad you’re doing well. Is Javi busy at the moment?” You ask, hopeful that he isn’t so you can actually spend time with him and enjoy your lunch together. 

“Nope. Go right ahead, doll. Should I call him and tell him you’re coming?” 

“No, no,” You stop her with a sweet smile. “I wanted to surprise him with lunch today.” 

“Well aren’t you two just the cutest. Enjoy your lunch.” She winks at you, and you can’t help but laugh. You just absolutely adored her kind soul. 

“Thank you Doreen. See you in a bit.” You wave, heading off to Javier’s office. You turned a couple of corners before stopping at his door, knocking on it twice with a smile stretched on your lips. 

“Come in.” You heard him say, and you opened the door. 

He doesn’t look up from his paperwork until he hears the bag of food rustling, and his head shoots up. His big brown eyes gleam with joy as he takes in the sight of you. 

“Mi amor,” He whispers, getting out of his chair to make his way to you. “What are you—”

“Surprise.” You say and hold the bag of food up, and he chuckles as he wraps an arm firmly around your frame to pull you into him. You softly yelp in surprise, your free hand landing on his chest. 

“You’re the best, cariño. This is exactly what I needed.” He grins as he leans to kiss you tenderly, hand making its way under your sweater to splay out against the skin of your back. The coolness of his wedding band shot a shiver down your spine, and you moved your hand from his chest up to the back of his neck, pulling him in closer. 

He groans softly and pulls away before he gets lost in the art of kissing his beautiful wife. 

“What’d you get for lunch?” He mumbles against your lips. 

“Mediterranean.” 

“Mm, thank you baby.” He kisses your cheek before fully pulling away. 

“Thought I could join you today, if that’s okay.” You grin at him. 

“Of course mi amor, I wouldn’t want it any other way.” He kisses you chastely once more before closing his office door behind you all the way. He makes his way back to his desk chair and grabs your hips, silently asking you to sit down on one of his legs. You laugh at the gesture before taking the food containers out of the bag, the aroma of chicken kabobs and basmati rice instantly filling the office. 

Javier keeps one hand wrapped around your waist as you both eat, savoring the delicious food. Halfway through the meal, you feel his lips brush your neck with a ghost of a kiss that has you clenching your thighs together. 

Javier always had a way of arousing you, even with the simplest of actions. Sometimes it wasn’t fair how easily he could turn you on. He didn’t care though. He fucking loved it, and loved teasing you until you were squirming and whimpering for him. 

“Javi.” You whisper, leaning your head back on his shoulder. It could’ve also been the way that you two didn’t get to finish what you started this morning, so the anticipation has been building and brewing deep in your belly all day. 

“My wife is just the sweetest,” He whispers against your neck, “Just wanna thank her for a wonderful surprise is all.” He teases, hands caressing your curves underneath your sweater. 

Goosebumps rise on your skin from his touch, and you put a hand on his thigh to steady yourself. He stops his movements momentarily and brings one hand out from under your sweater, lifting your hand up to his line of sight. 

“Got your nails done, baby? They look real good,” He compliments, kissing your hand. He admires your red nails with a holly design on your ring finger. 

“Thank you, baby.” 

“Did you use my card to pay for them?” He asks, and you shake your head no. He groans, shaking his head. “Baby, you know I love to pay for your nails. Why won’t you just use my card?” 

“I feel bad, honey, you don’t need to pay for everything I need maintenance on all the time.” 

“Uh uh. Don’t ever feel bad. I’m here to spoil my wife as I please, and if I wanna pay for her nails, I’ll do so,” He chastised, but it wasn’t condescending. He chuckles after, and you turn to give him a confused look. “Besides, I love seeing what color and design you always pick out. Can’t wait to see how it’ll look wrapped around my cock you love so much.” 

He’s snickering like a school boy, and your jaw drops in pure shock. 

“Javier Peña!” You swat his arm, “You’re so bad.” He laughs at your scolding, putting both hands on your thighs. 

“You know you love it, baby.” He teases, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs, taking notice that you’re wearing his favorite leggings on you. 

“Do me a favor, mi amor,” He says, and you turn to look at him. “Lock my office door for me.” He nods his head towards the door, and you look at him in confusion. 

“Javi, what—?” You begin, but he shakes his head and gives you room to get up. You rise slowly, making your way over to the mahogany door to twist the lock shut. You turn to look at Javier again, and the lustful look on his face startles you. 

His sweet brown eyes are now nearly black, full of so much desire and neediness and—fuck—you were so turned on by it. There’s just something about the way he looks at you that silently screams possession, like he’s proud that you’re his, that turns you on so much. 

You needed to ground yourself back to reality though, because doing anything here would be too risky. 

“Javi, baby, we’re at your job. We can’t—we can’t do this here.” 

You begin to walk closer to him and he turns his chair to the side so he’s no longer facing his desk. He makes a ‘come here’ gesture with his index finger, and you want to fucking salivate with how delicious your husband looks right now. He’s got that carnal stare locked on you and your figure, legs spread wide with the fabric of his slacks straining against his thick thighs, and a devilish smirk on his face as he tugs you by the waistband of your leggings to stand before him, tucked between his legs. 

“But that’s where you’re wrong, baby. Wanna finish what we started this morning,” He tugs you down gently so you’re straddling his lap. You feel his bulge through his slacks, and it takes everything in you not to moan. “Just gotta keep that pretty little mouth of yours quiet.” 

His large hands cradle your ass, giving it a squeeze as he kisses you. Your first instinct was to card your fingers through his dark locks, but you had to remind yourself that you were in his office—you didn’t want to leave any evidence of your insatiable endeavors behind. You opted for the lapel of his suit instead, tugging him closer to you. You moan breathlessly into his mouth, instinctively grinding your hips down onto him. 

A deep groan rumbles from his sturdy chest, like the neediness and desire to have you right now was life or death. 

He pulled back from you for a second to trail kisses down the warm skin of your neck, tongue poking out to trace over your pulse point. 

You gasped and grinded yourself into him harder, your arousal slowly seeping through your panties and leggings. Your core was aching to be touched at this point, only merely teased this morning by your husband’s skillful fingers. 

You wanted more, more, more, but responsibilities outweighed desires. 

One of his hands traveled down to rub at your core over the fabric of your clothes, cock straining tighter against his slacks to find you’ve already soaked through your panties and leggings.

“Does my beautiful wife want me this badly?” He murmurs, and you nod frantically. 

“Please, Javi. Need you so bad.” Your voice sounded desperate and whiny, but you truly couldn’t care at this moment. All you wanted was for your husband to take everything he needed and wanted from you. 

“Stand up, sweet girl.” 

You obey instantly. He was so easy to submit to. Everything with him was just so easy. He was safe, he was gentle, he was home. 

He turned your body so you faced his desk, and he bent you downward so your body was at a ninety degree angle. 

He easily peeled your panties and leggings off of your ass, shimmying them down to your mid-thigh. He kicked your feet further apart, relishing in the sight of your ass on full display for him. He rubbed the supple flesh lovingly, giving it a smack before he sank to his knees behind you. 

You turned your head back to look at him, eyebrows threading together at the sight of him kneeling behind you. 

“Baby, what are you do—oh, fuck.” You cry, hand clamping over your mouth. Javier had taken it upon himself to eat you out from behind, delving his expert tongue through your slick folds. 

He hummed against you, licking up everything you gave him as your arousal dripped down your thighs, and now, his face.

It was rare when he ate you out from behind, but when he did, it was a fucking treat. Before him, nobody else had ever done so, so the first time he did it with you, it had you coming in less than five minutes tops. 

He usually liked to eat you out from below, just so he could see your pretty face contort into pure pleasure as his tongue fucked you rhythmically. 

Your hand did a half-assed job at muffling your moans as Javi’s tongue circled your clit, all the way up to your entrance, and past that to your other hole. You choked on a gasp as he greedily licked you, reaching your other hand back to grab one that dug into the meat of your thigh. He intertwined his fingers with yours, giving your hand a squeeze as he removed his mouth from you. 

He chuckled darkly as he spit onto your hole, saliva trailing down to your entrance. He got back to work immediately, licking your entrance before moving back down to your clit. He unlinked his hand from yours, prodding two fingers at your entrance. He pushed in slowly and with ease, slick instantly coating his thick fingers. 

You whimper at the sensation, that low burn of desire that’s been pooling in your belly all day completely awakened, licking a flame up your spine and waiting for a chance to engulf you wholly. 

“Could eat this pretty pussy all day, baby.” Javier mumbled below you, and you couldn’t help but clench around his fingers. 

The lewd sounds of your wetness reverberated off of his office walls, hoping to god none of his coworkers could hear any of this. 

You felt the internal flame in your body get hotter and hotter, traveling down your legs as they shook with pleasure. 

“That’s it, mamas, there you go. Doing so well. Let it go, baby.” Javier’s words launched you over the edge, gushing around his fingers and all over his mouth. You squeezed your eyes shut as you bit your lip hard to try and keep quiet. The obscene sounds of him slurping every last bit of you up nearly made your knees buckle. 

Your body went limp against his desk, breath uneven and shaky. 

“Fuck, Javi.” You breathe, eyes closing in pure bliss. 

“Worth the wait?” He asks. 

You nod mindlessly, mind too fuzzy to conjure up a proper response. 

“Good. Not done with you yet, though, cariño. Turn around for me.” 

You muster up all the strength you have in your body to turn around and face him, and your eyes immediately move down to the straining bulge in his slacks. You lean against his desk, pulling him to you by his belt buckle. You deftly unbuckle his belt and pop open the button of his slacks, sliding down the zipper in one go. 

You move to drop to your knees, but Javier catches your elbow before you fully sink down. You look up at him with glossy eyes and a confused stare, and he moves to cradle your jaw in his large hand. 

“Mm mm. Let’s save that for tonight, mi amor. Wanna be inside you now.” 

Before you can even register his words, he’s lifting you up onto his desk and pulling his slacks and boxers down. His painfully erect cock springs free, and you reach forward to give it a few tugs and swipe your thumb over his slit to collect the pre come that gathered at his tip. You pop your thumb in your mouth, sucking on it while staring into your husband’s beautiful brown eyes. You let out a satisfied hum, licking your lips after you remove your thumb from your mouth with a ‘pop’.

Javier hisses through clenched teeth, expression painted with neediness and agony. You tug on his cock a couple of times, biting down on your lip as you look up at your handsome husband. You bat your lashes up at him and you feel his cock twitch in your hand. 

“Need you, baby.” His voice is gravelly, nearly pained.

“I’m yours.” 

And he’s on you. He leans down to kiss you fervently, sliding the tip of his cock through your folds before pushing into you. You both swallow each other’s moans; the fullness he provided you each time was something you’ll always be mesmerized by. 

He starts off slow, testing the waters of his thrusts to see if his desk would creak too loud or if it would scrape too much against the thin rug beneath it. Once he found he was in the clear, he picked up his pace immediately. 

He relentlessly thrusted in and out of you, the tip of his heavy cock kissing your cervix. You cried out his name and he shushed you with praises that only made you more aroused.  

Sh sh sh, I know baby, I know. Taking my cock so well, hm? Such a good fucking girl for me. My pretty wife. All mine, he babbled. 

He looked down at you as he relentlessly fucked you, the sound of skin slapping on skin much louder than your moans. Javier couldn’t give a shit anymore, though.

His tunnel vision was locked in, only wanting to make you feel good. One of his hands gathered your wrists and held them above your head, flashing you a wicked smile as his other hand traveled up to your throat. Before he could squeeze, he waited for your consent. 

“Please.” You squeak out, and he wraps his fingers around your throat to squeeze the sides. 

“Open your mouth.” He says, and you oblige, sticking your tongue out for good measure. He spits directly into your mouth, and you swallow without hesitation. You grin up at him as he squeezes your throat a little tighter, a euphoric type of bliss overcoming your whole being. 

He’s fucking into you so hard now that various items on his desk start to rattle. Pencils are being knocked over and the framed photo of you and him on your wedding day plops down onto a pile of papers. His hand moves from your wrists to your breasts, squeezing them generously over the soft fabric of your sweater. 

He couldn’t wait to give the entirety of your body all of the attention it deserves when he got home from work tonight. The thought of you squirming beneath him as you tugged on his hair, moaning as loud as you wanted without a care in the world, had him fucking panting. 

You were canting your hips up to meet his thrusts as best as you could, the sensation of his wiry hair at the base of his cock causing a delectable friction onto your already sore and puffy clit. He moved his hands from your throat and breasts to skate them down your figure, finding home on your hips. 

“I’m close, Javi.” You were breathless, the rumbling fire in your core slowly overtaking your body once more. You needed only a single match to light your fire, and Javier was it. He was your match. He slid you against the matchbox and lit your whole body aflame, engulfing you in everything Javi. He was all-consuming. 

You let the feeling of that familiar euphoric bliss overcome your body once more as you convulsed, legs shaking as they locked around Javier’s waist. Feeling you clench around him with such force had his hips stuttering, knowing he wasn’t far behind from release himself. 

His lips enveloped yours once more, hands flying up to cradle your face as he spilled every last drop of his come into you. Your moans met in a harmony that not even the most skilled choir could compete with. 

His hips stilled completely, waiting a few seconds to relish in your warmth before sliding out of you slowly. You whimpered at the loss of fullness, wishing you could curl up next to him and enjoy his warmth for hours. Reality trickled back in as he bent down to pick up his boxers and slacks, readjusting himself to make it look like he didn’t just fuck his wife relentlessly on his desk.

He leaned down to kiss your forehead before helping you stand, kissing your thighs before sliding your panties and leggings up your legs again. The fucked out look on your face was one of his favorites, and it’s one he knows he’ll never get tired of seeing. 

“I love you, baby. Thank you for two meals in one.” He winked, and you felt your body get hot. 

You quirk an eyebrow at him, taking a step forward to close the gap between you both. He mindlessly wrapped a hand around your waist, and you rested a hand on his chest—right above the strong, rhythmic beat of his heart.

“You’re very welcome, Mr. Peña. Hope this made your day a little better,” You give him a chaste kiss, hand sliding down his chest to his abdomen before separating your lips from his as your gaze meets his once more. “And I can’t wait for mine tonight.” Your fingers tease the waistband of his slacks, and he grabs your hand to move it lower, resting over his already half-hard cock. 

He closes his eyes in pure bliss as you rub him through the fabric slowly, and you kiss his neck before huffing a small laugh. 

“Mine.” You say, stepping away from him, heading for his office door. You wink at him and blow him one last kiss before unlocking and opening the door, leaving him dumbfounded, turned on, and pondering what you had in store for him at home that night. 

But, for now, he had reality and her greedy ways to tend to before he could submerge himself once more in this blissful thing he called home—

You. 

translations:

-> amor: love

-> mi amor: my love

-> cariño: honey

-

tag list: @party-hearses ; @ilovepedro ; @nostalxgic ; @tinygarbage ; @bastardmandennis ; @amanitacowboy

[pedro-pedrito-pascalito]

This man owns my heart!! 🥹😭

[millerscoffee]

soft spot for trouble | hbf!javi

lit a cigarette and gave it a kiss.

6.3k | javier peña x f!reader

masterlist

rating: 18+ MDNI

warnings: dub-con: drunk sex, honey this is all S-M-U-T, husband's best friend, infidelity, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, squirting, piv (protected), brat tamer!javi, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, size kink, praise kink, this is just so horny, smoking (lots of it soz, and shotgunning cigarette smoke – OOPS). no use of y/n.

summary: javier peña is back from colombia and decides to spend some time with you and your husband, his best friend since college. after telling a story you know nothing about, an argument ensues between you and your husband, and you get drunk... both on whiskey, and on javi.

A/N: what can i say, i'm just the worst for narcos's very own javier peña and there's nothing you can do. enjoy!!!!! || [when you click keep reading you don't see the chalkboard i have stashed away stating "i will not make this a series" over and over 🤭]

"Bebita, I know your husband. He's not exactly notorious for making women cum. When was the last time he even went down on you?" Your cheeks absolutely flush at the tone of his voice, the truths he's spilling from his lips. Truths so intimate, you hadn't even told Gabbie about them. You swallow a knot in your throat. "Not saying it's me who should do that for you," finishing off his statements and drink Javi stands up, slipping on his leather jacket. "I'm saying I could." Stepping closer, he bends down to catch your ear. Goosebumps litter your skin as he whispers: "Could make you forget all about tonight." And you very much would like to forget all about tonight.

"Okay – okay! Would you have a threesome?" Your best friend is reading these conversation cards you got her some birthday ago, and you can hear her partner and your husband laugh amongst themselves.

A dinner party is going on at your house, and you and your husband have invited your best friend, Gabrielle, and her partner, Kris. Along with them there's your husband's best friend, Javier.

He was meant to bring a date, but for reasons that were more mumbled out of his mouth than spoken outright, they aren't here.

You're all sat around the dining room table with after dinner drinks and a game everyone agreed would be a fun way to end the night.

"Oh, gosh!" You laugh with Gabbie, both of you shaking your heads in anticipation of what would be said next.

"You gonna tell her or should I, pendejo?" Javi refers to your husband, a cigarette hanging from his lips.

The one you explicitly told him to smoke outside. You heard your husband, Julian, veto the request as you left, allowing the DEA to do what he wanted.

Julian undermining what you wanted... again.

"Tell me what?" You raise your brow, wafting smoke from your face dramatically as if to say, I told you not to do this. Javi doesn't seem to pay it much attention.

"Me and this guy...," in fact he points to your husband with the cigarette, flicking ash into the tray. You blink in annoyance.

"No! You didn't!" You gasp. Your mind races at the thought of them taking someone back to their dorm in college. You curb the ache that tempts your middle at thought of Javier and Julian sharing a woman between the two of them.

But that excitement is fleeting when a more sinister, grueling feeling creeps up your stomach.

"You're right. We didn't. Well, I didn't. I just played wingman. Julian here isn't as much of a saint as you thought." Javi says this to make you laugh, but it does the opposite.

Your eyes catch Julian's who now is looking at anywhere else but you. Knowing damn well before the two of you got married, this man prodded and practically bullied sexual information out of you.

Said it was only fair to know each other's pasts before making such a big commitment.

Within a sentence, a simple – stupid – game, the perception of your husband could shift before your very eyes. Your jaw ticks forward and you take a long, contemplative sip of wine.

"O-kay, let's just put these away," Kris muses, taking the cards in her hands.

"No, let's keep going," you antagonise. Your eyes become dull, tongue sharpening by the second. "I think Julian has a story to tell. It's good to know who you're married to."

You remember the way Julian said those very words to you while he was digging your own history of who you've slept with. Like a secret call directly to him... in front of everyone.

You can see Peña shifting in his seat out of your periphery.

"Well, it was in college," Julian speaks now after shooting the rest of his bourbon. His body language involving everyone in the story, but he finally has the courage to look at you. Somehow that hurts worse.

"There were these two girls at the bar we used to go to, and–"

That's when the tear spills over your cheek.

"Alright, I think she's heard enough." Javi's voice is low to Julian and your head snaps in the direction of him like a vulture who's making a meal of something dead.

"You don't get to decide that."

It's only when Gabbie whispers your name do you take heed. "I think we should leave you two to talk about this."

The guests in your home pack up their things until it's you and Julian. "I'm sorry, Jul–"

"Peña just go, man."

Javi nods sadly at your husband, his hand touching your shoulder as he slips out. He's the last one to go, and as the door closes it feels symbolic.

It's silent for a long time.

You go between wanting to cry, wanting to scream, wanting clarity.

Since your own husband didn't bother to give that to you.

"I never cared," you let out an uneven sigh, searching over your husband's features.

He looks defensive, annoyed and it's totally misplaced. You should be the annoyed one. You are the one who got betrayed.

"It never bothered me to tell you my partners. I agreed with you, even. That we should be open and honest to have a better relationship–"

"You really think you're in the position to be on a high horse when you fuck Javier with your eyes?"

It's deflective. A defense mechanism to take the heat off of himself, and unfortunately, it works. Your mouth is left agape.

"What the fuck do you mean?"

"I mean," he begins, tilting his glass to where Javi sat, "whenever this guy is over, I don't exist."

"This guy, is your best friend. Someone you've known way longer than you've known me. Excuse me for being hospitable."

"There's hospitality, then there's throwing yourself at the first man who walks through the door. It's embarrassing."

His words make you feel small for the first time in your relationship.

It causes a crack, irreparable in nature, and you feel a shift.

Because you don't cry, it makes you angry. Puts you back on track as to why you were having this conversation in the first place.

"Embarrassing?" You stand, wine glass in hand, "Embarrassing?! You just confessed something you knew would make me irate in front of our very best friends. Something personal that I should have known in private. You lied to me and you admitted it in front of people we care about. Made me look like a goddamn fool! Don't tell me about being embarrassed, you don't know the first fucking thing. Fuck you, Julian!"

You could throw the wine glass, but you decide to slam it down instead. Grabbing your purse, keys, and jacket to escape without letting him finish his thought. Door slammed. You've heard enough.

Mature. But you were pissed off, and you knew staying in a house that you made a home together wouldn't solve anything.

Maybe getting some fresh air would help.

Maybe walking to the bar in town would be even more helpful.

Your thoughts were swirling, clouding your judgement on the walk in, sneakers on. Your pleated white skirt brushes above your knees that paired with the black top that made your breasts look concealed more than shown off.

As if the forest green bomber jacket didn't help in making you look modest.

What the fuck did Julian know?! You weren't throwing yourself at anybody.

Because you were not thinking about Javi with his shirt off moments before the truth was told, and he did not infiltrate your dreams occasionally with sexual undertones.

It couldn't happen, and it was not happening.

You had been to this bar a few times before. It's dimly lit, a variety of music pumps through the speakers. There's plumes of smoke, and there's something about it that feels safer than when you experienced it in your home. Like a part of you enjoyed it.

Studying the room, you discover Javier Peña on a barstool, staring into his glass of whiskey. You knew Peña to play dirty, but there's something about the way he's contemplating – or at least looks like he's contemplating – that gives off remorse.

"Didn't know you could do that," you kid, taking a seat beside him. Your eyes scan over his jeans, the buttons undone from his red shirt. The way his chest and neck and NO – no!

"Oh, hey," and his dreamy crooked smile, puppy eyes. Jesus Christ, you needed a drink and fast. "Didn't know I could do what?"

"Think." You try to cheer him up, but it doesn't seem to work. You both keep doing that to each other tonight.

Instead, Javi huffs out a fake laugh through his nose and downs the rest of the amber liquid. His eyebrows flash quickly, showing hints of regret, "You're tellin' me."

"Hey," your say lowly, eyes softening at the signs of his guilt. It feels different from your husband's accusatory behaviour.

It makes you feel like Javi actually cared that he hurt you, or at least hurt his friend. You can see him run his tongue atop of his teeth through his lips when he looks at you. It makes his jaw jut out, strong and chiseled, and you fail at averting your gaze.

"You didn't know that I didn't know. It's not your fault. For either party." You reach out to touch the top of Javi's hand in a friendly manner, and you catch a glimpse of your wedding ring.

A twinge of guilt hits your gut, and you pull away from the warmth as soon as you land.

"You really didn't know?" Javi peers over to you before finding eyes of the bartender, holding up the number 'two' with his fingers.

"Not only did I not know, he insisted on knowing every person that I've ever slept with, where they live, and how many times. Yes you heard that correctly," you nod a thank you to both the bartender and Javi before taking your drink.

Whiskey's not typically your first choice, but it's like he knew you needed something stronger. It's not a typical night.

The alcohol feels good on your tongue, as if it washed away what you just said.

You conveniently leave out what your husband threw at you about Peña before you left. Tonight was awkward enough already.

"Mierda, what a fucking idiot." Javi snickers in disbelief, shaking his head.

"Yeah, I think you taught him some interrogation skills you didn't warn me about." You don't mean for that to come off so flirty, but you see Javier's face change minisculely and it makes your thighs to squeeze together.

"Didn't know I had to look out for you, cariño," he says, charm dripping from every syllable. He offers you a cigarette and it's hilarious, really – him handing this to you after telling him time and time again not to do it in your house.

Even more hilarious that you take it from him. He seems a little surprised by that.

You press the stick between your teeth when Javi has his lighter ready. Pour your stare into his as he starts your cigarette. Allow the inhale to sting your lungs.

You're very composed about it all, really. Really.

Exhaling the air from the side of your mouth, away from his face, you shrug slightly. "I guess you know now." Your words not making complete sense as you dizzy from nicotine, alcohol, and deception.

"Two women...," you trail off, focusing on the neon lights of the bar that create reflections on the shiny, hardwood floor. "Can barely satisfy one." You weren't saying it to chide Julian, you mostly said to to yourself, but of course nothing goes unnoticed with Peña, and he chokes a laugh.

It feels nice to hear a light sound in the midst of something so heavy that you can't help but partake in it, too. The two of you chuckling and you shake your head, taking another drag of the cigarette.

"Well, here's to the ones who can," Javi lifts his glass, and you do the same, just barely picking up what he's hinting while you down the rest of drink. Head swimming now.

The two of you sit in conversation as the piles of people in your town fill seats for a good ten minutes. Most of them know the both of you, and that keeps you on track. You abandon the butt of your cigarette in an ashtray that has at least three of Javi's since he arrived.

Kept on track because the more you drink, the more you realise you want to act on your impulses. Want to go against the things you were keeping yourself from thinking. To make some of those dreams come true.

"You know what your fuckin' problem is?" Javi starts, and it makes your blood boil. Breaks you out of your reverie.

"Maybe start that sentence off differently."

"No," he's quick to reply. So quick you don't notice you fold your own argument. "You're too uptight, that's your problem." he shrugs casually and you shove his shoulder lightly.

"Making it worse, Peña."

Javi brings his hand up to tap his index and middle finger at to the side of your head lightly.

"You're operating too much from here," his arm sweeps down, those two same fingers brushing against your panties from underneath your skirt. You jump back in your seat, gasping in response.

"Need to operate from here."

And there it is. It would seem out of place if it were anyone else but Javier Fucking Peña. Known for debaucherous ways. Known for his vices.

"W-what... what are you doing?" You stare wide, not quite sure you even felt what you did. It happened so fast that when you look around, no one saw a thing.

It wasn't as much of a record-scratch stop to them as it was to you.

You notice that you don't tell him to stop. And so does he.

"Bebita, I know your husband. He's not exactly notorious for making women cum. When was the last time he even went down on you?" Your cheeks absolutely flush at the tone of his voice, the truths he's spilling from his lips. Truths so intimate, you hadn't even told Gabbie about them. You swallow a knot in your throat.

"Not saying it's me who should do that for you," finishing off his statements and drink Javi stands up, slipping on his leather jacket. "I'm saying I could." Stepping closer, he bends down to catch your ear. Goosebumps litter your skin as he whispers: "Could make you forget all about tonight."

And you very much would like to forget all about tonight.

It's only when you stand do you notice how drunk you are. Not completely wasted, but not sober enough to make decisions with your brain. Exactly how Javi wants you. The walk to Javi's apartment is remembered in jolly splices.

---

Your mouth greets the shoulder of Javi's jacket playfully while he unlocks his door. You detect his aftershave in mix with the cigarettes, alcohol, and leather.

A whine escapes you and slick gathers in your panties, even more from the bar if that were possible. Especially when your noises and eagerness pull a baritone laugh from him, "Tranquilo, tigre."

He says that, but as soon as you've crossed the threshold of his door he has you against the other side of it. Fingers playing in your hair. Ever the gentleman, sliding off your jacket to put it... on the ground. Great. You like that jacket!

But you're just as careful and kind to his things as you tug on his belt. Your fingers playing with the brown leather and metal and finally, finally your mouths touch.

A sweet moan, high in octave and breathy, eases out of your throat and it's met with the gravel of his groan in the pit of his own. He feels and tastes nothing like your husband which makes it much easier to forget him.

Truthfully, he hadn't been in your mind since fresh air hit your face on the walk to Javi's.

Smoke, alcohol, and the faint likeness of gum moves over your tongue while your hands multitask in untucking his shirt from his jeans.

"That fuckin' easy?" He quips, but his breath as shaky as yours. Large hands palming the smushed shape of your breasts from the modest top, and it produces a whimper in the middle of your panting.

"It's that fucking easy, Peña. Could've been doing this a long fuckin' time, now." Your hands eclipse his, pushing them further into your tits in effort to obscenely massage them.

This stirs a groan from his lips. In awe of how in control you are like this. How it's different from the woman allowing her requests to be denied in her own home.

Javi disobeyed you on purpose at your house earlier, so maybe you could get it through your thick fucking skull that this is what you really needed.

To watch your desires bubble to the surface, and moreover to let them have space here. He wants you to act on them.

Taking your chin between his fingers, he rolls over the bone. Moustache twitching in a smirk, "Javi, baby."

To say you're wet now is an understatement. Your clit tingles with anticipation, thighs shaking without even being touched.

"Javi," you say it back to him, but it comes out more like a moan. A catalyst for a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth and brushing of his facial hair against the top of your lips while he towers above you. Palm flat against the door above your head.

Somewhere between that and undoing each button on his shirt, you end up in the kitchen – bent over the island. Pouting at not getting the chance to see him shirtless fully.

You shiver against the granite, claw at the edges of furniture for something to land on. To find purchase. A cheek is pinned against the cool texture and you choke a breath the second you feel air flow against your ass. Your skirt riding up just for Javi to view.

"Motherfucker," you hear Javi behind you. The tone amused, saturated in desire. That's when you get your first taste of relief.

The edge of his index finger runs between your legs, rubbing the obvious wet spot of your panties. Your folds, even through the fabric, wrap around the length of his finger from how deeply he's pressing against you.

It flicks a flame in the pit of your stomach and causes more hunger than relief. Your pores open from how hot it's making you.

"You get this wet for him?" Javi's simple question evokes a mewl you've never heard come from yourself. Your hips lift back and roll in need.

"No... no. J-just you, Javi. Just you."

"Just me," he repeats, head tipping to the side as he examines you.

How easy it is for you to handover claim of your cunt. It's instantaneous, him pulling your undies down. Wasting no more time in what the two of you came here to do.

The pad of his thumb collects your slick between your folds. From the top of your hole all the way to your clit at the bottom from how you're positioned, and you bite your lip hard. Cheeks flushed while your ass peeks out from your skirt.

"Is that because this is mine?"

You confidently say Julian has never talked to you like this. You don't think you've ever been addressed like this in your life.

Never been made to feel special in this way, or that your body was someone's because they wanted you. Not because they wanted to have some icky claim of you.

Even more, you don't feel guilty. Not yet, anyway. There's no time for it. No time to pretend from what you've wanted from the very moment this man, whose warmth now radiates behind you, entered the picture.

"It's yours," you say in a rush as your torso drapes and digs into the side Javi's kitchen island. Makes you think you'd say this even in a sober state. "It's all yours, Javi!"

"What's mine?" He's deliberate and torturous, and his voice alone could make you cum. Your ass pushes back languidly, giving him a good view to curse at under his breath, of your cunt and the velvet of your asshole.

"Me, Javi. I'm yours. Everything." Hot tears swell over your cheeks from how horny and desperate you feel. Like if you don't get him now, you could combust.

"Javi!" you gasp, rutting against the outline of his hard cock in his jeans when he grinds against you without warning.

"Get used to fuckin' saying that," he cautions, and it's cocky, but unlike all the other broken promises you've been given, he's true to his word.

Because he pulls away from you, and you're now his ragdoll – putting you wherever he wants. Hoisting you up on the kitchen island, and it feels cold against the heat pooling at your core.

Javi watches as you bring your bare feet onto the counter, leaning back on your hands, and spread your legs apart like he's being called for dinner. And, fuck, that's exactly what he wants.

Because as soon as you do that, as soon as he sees just how wet and pink you are at the core for him, he can't say no to you.

Not that he was ever planning on it.

"That's it, that's fucking it. Jesus fucking Christ."

You get a good view of Javi's chest all the way down to his stomach and jeans in their disheveled state from this point of view. The bulge of his cock difficult to hide in pants that tight, and you are grateful for it.

You shiver at a mixture of the view of him and the air against your soaked skin.

Your cheeks and lips are painted crimson when he pulls up a seat. He wasn't kidding. He was planning on eating you out, going down on you like you were his own personal meal – as if his eyes devouring you weren't enough.

Your manicured nailed comb his hair back once you get the chance to reach him. Feeling exposed, throbbing by the time you feel the smooth skin of his cheek proceed the inside of your thigh. He takes you in, marveling at the way your cunt pulses and clenches over nothing. Fluid floods right from the source. The way your clit peeks out from its hood, just enough that his teeth could brush against it.

It makes his mouth water, and yours too now that you think about it. Pressing slow, teasing kisses on your thighs you sigh in frustration and alleviation. You can't help but wriggle your hips up towards him. "Please," you whimper, and that makes Javi's eyes grow even darker if you could believe it.

"Please what?"

"Javi, please eat me out!"

He doesn't miss a beat. Using his nose and face to breach your folds apart, to take a mess even further, Javi digs in. His tongue flattens against your slick and your sounds are immediate. It's all too sensitive, too unfamiliar for you to fully register how to feel.

He was right when he called your husband out at the bar. Julian made sure you came, but it was rarely with his mouth. Most of the time you were left rubbing yourself off during sex.

So to have someone, to have Javi – your husband's best fucking friend, between your legs. Servicing you with the sluttiest smile on his face, you can't help but slump back on the counter.

To be under his stare is almost too much. Perfect and needy for you. You slip your eyes shut from the intensity.

"Eyes on me, princesa," Javi rolls off his tongue easily, the tip of it digging right underneath the hood of your clit. Making you gasp, eyes wide, popping back open to meet his gorgeous features.

"Did my pussy like that?" He hums in satisfaction, wrapping his mouth around the all-too sensitized nub before mercilessly sucking it.

This leaves you with your mouth hanging open, your eyes crossing as they roll into the back of your head. The same head that's now reclining in sheer ecstasy.

But Javi's quick to make his point as he goes off of you and replaces his sucking with a harsh slap to your cunt. It makes you spring up, makes you pay attention. You pout and writhe at his power over you.

"I said fucking eyes on me. Don't you dare think about anyone else."

"I-I," you try, you really try to say something, but you can't. It feels too good, and you're too drunk to understand you can't use your words right now.

So you comply, watch him as best as you can. Your mouth split open, eyebrows knit together. And he's kind in the way he goes right back – sucking on your clit like it's his fucking job.

Like he hasn't eaten in weeks, and you're sitting at his kitchen counter, on display.

Not using your brain to think, but using your pussy.

"JustyouJavi," you manage. It's slurred, but you manage it because while he's sucking on your nerves, he's rolling the edge of his tongue against it too. Methodical circles, a tempo to die for. Doesn't switch it up, or make awkward transitions. It's just right.

It's inevitable, screaming his name. Feeling your toes curl, the heels of your feet grind into Javi's shoulders. Damn near pornographic in the way you keen your mantra of: yeah, yeah, yeah. The ache explodes into an uncontrollable fit of passion as you gush all over Javi's mouth.

But as he pulls back, you see that it's not just his mouth that's coated. His cheeks, chin, nose. You're spilling down his neck. And he smiles at you like a blood-soaked lion polishing off its prey.

"I know what you can do, princesa," the sentence has far too many words for you to understand what's happening during your comedown, so that's why it happens as a surprise when you feel Javi's two fingers prod against your cunt.

Standing from his chair now, he pushes it back with his heel. Hand in a loose fist around your neck as he makes you watch what he's doing to you. "Don't fucking blink," he grits, and it makes you want him to tighten his grip. To be possessive while he fucks you.

Your head is slightly angled down while he starts. Eyes looking up, mouth wet but not as wet as Javi's and it makes you come apart to watch his skin glisten still from you. Index and middle fingers press inside your wet hole. His wet hole.

"Fuck!" You exclaim, slipping your top lip above the bottom, you open easily for him to plunge deeper, his fingers curling up with no trouble at all in finding that spongy spot of pleasure right at the tips of them. Your eyes gloss from how overwhelming it feels, the repetitions.

"You can squirt for me, baby." His echoes have you in a trance, but that request makes you nervous. "I've... I don't know how...," you manage the words and he massages your insides in a way that makes you discern you're being primed for something.

"You can do it," Javi leans down, and the encouragement makes your mind reel at how simple words can create such an affect on you.

"Pull my cock out and slip those pretty lips around it, hermosa. You'll forget about anything else."

A part of you isn't ready. To see his cock would mean that things were progressing, and if they were in a standstill you could soak up this moment for longer. But the way you can hear your cunt slosh in between thrusts has you curious if he actually could make you do this.

You look down first. See the bulge more prominent and close in his boxers from his unbuttoned jeans. Eager to break out, you pull the fabric down enough to send the leaking head of his cock to slap against his abdomen before it springs out in front of you to tease.

"Holy fuck," the moment before the freefall, your body becomes alert of the sheer size of him. It was even better than the dreams of you getting railed by him from behind.

You can't help but take a moment to appreciate this. To brush your face sluttily against the warmth of his cock. Your lips teasing him until the precum lands on your tongue and your jaw instantly burns from how sore it is to be open like that.

Saliva falls on your shirt, not yet found the time to take it off.

He tasted heavenly, your hand cups his balls while his moves from your throat to the back of your head.

And it's delicious to watch his face. The way his jaw relaxed open before grinding it back shut, exhaling sharply through his nose. Javi tests your gag reflexes then, gripping the back of your head and sending the shaft of his cock down your throat.

"Mierda," he falters in keeping both rhythms from how hot your wet mouth is. "Knew you could handle my cock, baby, but fuck."

Between the sounds of you gargling him and the squelching of your pussy he is relentless in using, your body is distracted and slack enough for him to pull out of you.

"Ay dios mio, bebita. That's fucking it, there you go." The way he's nodding, proud and spasming in your mouth has you cumming again. This this time clear liquid sprays from you when he tugs his skilled fingers from you and you vibrate such moans from Javi's cock he has to pull out to stop himself from cumming, too.

A wail replaces your moans as the sound of your voice is more prominent in the space. "Javi!" You can't help that you're crying obscenely now, tears flowing from the intensity and the treatment he'd been giving your throat. Mascara running down your cheeks.

---

"Good fucking girl, bonita." You don't realise it straight away from you cum-drunken stooper, but he's picked you up now. Showing you how strong his lean frame is by carrying you to his bed. Tossing you onto the mattress like it's nothing.

"All of this off. Now." Yes, sir. You bob your head yes frantically, knowing how fucked you must look. Mascara running, your panties... somewhere. Your skirt soaked from a new trick Javi just taught you.

You catch a glimpse of the man who did this to you, equally a mess. His hair in all directions, neck red as beads of sweat tempt his broad shoulders, and fuck, he was naked now. You don't mean to, but you drool – this time without a cock in your mouth – too fucked to notice, or care.

"Take a fuckin' picture, baby." Javi softens his knees to curve down at your ear, "Off. Last warning."

You begin to wonder what he would do if you didn't do as he said.

"And if I don't?" You challenge, a lascivious grin crosses your face and you raise a brow.

Mistake. Big mistake.

Because that makes Javi's grin fade. Ripples a new sense of foreboding into the air when he takes your skirt off just as easily and swiftly as he did your undies, but the skirt isn't unzipped so it bursts from the force and you yelp at the sensation.

"Javi, you broke my skirt!" You whine. Naked from the waist down he ogles you before tutting his teeth sarcastically.

"It really bothers me, hermosa," Your shirt is slung overhead and abandoned somewhere on the floor.

"Good girls don't talk back."

You can tell he's drinking you in from the moment he stands back, but he's pulling away more and more until you don't feel his warmth anymore and you realise the error you've made.

"W-wait... come-come back!" Your words dejected, giving him doe eyes as he mimics them way better than you could.

"Bad girls get punished. Rub your clit, get yourself off." It drives a pathetic sound from your mouth before you plead to him.

"Please, no. Please – Javi, Javi please. I'll be good. Please, Javi!" Sitting up, you beg him, undo the sheer bra so your tits pop out from it. Both of you bare in his bedroom.

You can see that makes his cock undoubtedly ache.

"Oh, querida. You're gonna have to do better than that." Arms crossed, he watches as you part your sticky legs, exposing your folds to him again and he hums in approval.

"Let me see how you do it."

You're so deep in it with him, it feels like you've been doing this regularly. How he knows your body, helps you discover little things you didn't even know you were into.

It relieves you to let out wanton moans, your fingers spanning your slick, opening yourself up on cue. Fingers roll, pinch, glide your clit in a hypnotic motion.

It sends you close to the edge, but you can't quite find it with the prospect of Javi inside you.

You keep staring at his cock.

The way precum collects at the head, the girth of him. You could only imagine how deep he would be. Unsure if you could take him all.

"I need you, Javi. Javi, please. Please give me your cock. I'm sorry, I wanna be your good girl!" Torture rocks your throat, and right before you force a dull orgasm from yourself Javi takes your wrist, pushing it away from your core.

"We have to use a condom, baby." It's his way of telling you yes, and you sit up zealously, understanding and willing to do whatever it takes.

Because in reality, he's right, and that almost causes you to stop. Like those dreams you have where you wake up and instantly flock to your husband. Overcompensating.

But this wasn't one of those dreams, and you wanted this so badly it stung.

Javi goes to his nightstand, slicking lube on his cock before sheathing it in the rubber protectant. You certainly don't feel upset that you have to use it, but it leaves you curious what his skin feels like slipped inside of you.

Already coveting his presence before it even began.

But that's the thing, there's no slipping here. When he comes around to make sure you're both lubricated enough for the barrier, you see just how fat his cock is as it bulges from the condom.

Your legs unfurl, chin lining forward as you watch him. Javi keeps you on your back for now, draping your legs over his shoulders. No, he doesn't slide inside of you, he stretches you to such completion your body pulses repeatedly, coming completely undone.

It almost feels too much at first, this position – as deep as it was, but the way you're groaning has you both believing you can take it. Just in time for your sex to push him out of you.

Your muscles all too tight, beginning to worry he's too big.

But that doesn't stop you.

"Mierda, you need it that fucking bad, bebita?" His words make you weak. Because immediately you go between your legs, inviting him back into the innermost part of you without him needing to do it himself.

Javi's lips crash against yours, taking time in burying himself all the way to the hilt. But he doesn't move a muscle.

He stays there, admiring above you. The way your mouth parts, nipples becoming alive at the sensation. "Eres hermosa," more of a mumble, his lips brush and decorate the inside of your calves. The tip of his nose slightly bending against the skin.

It starts to become unbearable, your hips shifting up, but you find it is working. That your muscles relax and are able to take. "I can take it," you incline, not noticing you're heaving shallow breaths until the words leave you in pieces.

"Can you?" Javi asks condescending, thumbprint teasing the split of your clit, rasping at the way you convulse your whole body from contact.

He can't take it anymore, your hold is too strong over him. Javi, compelled to fuck you, drives his cock in, proprietorial in its approach.

You're almost oversensitive, unsure of the statement you just announced because you find yourself swallowing hard, your throat dry. Fingernails claw at his forearms as his large paws grip your waist for leverage. Your pelvis bucking up because like his fingers before, his length is hitting your g-spot and it's too much – you have to screw your eyes.

But Javi doesn't reprimand you for it this time. Instead he hovers over you, sending your ass off of the bed and him deeper than ever before. Right against your cervix now. Causing your mandible to unhinge, pitiful sounds expel your lungs. It's just too good.

"You can take it, baby," Lustful words right there at your ear, you beg in way that makes you want more.

You stroke his hair, tugging the strands – scratching his scalp. His body mercilessly colliding with yours. All sweat and skin, balls eager to tap against the curve of your ass, and all of those sounds fill the room. The sounds of your sex.

"Javi, please. Tell me." It's magic, he doesn't hold it against you that you're not being completely direct. He's understanding, and wants this for you again. The gears connecting that you need to be talked and fucked through it.

"Tell you what, cariño? How I want you to cum for me?" His glistening covered brow presses against yours, hairs stick to both of your foreheads. "How I make this pussy feel so perfect you have to explain why you're limping tomorrow?"

Fuck, you're a mewling, writhing mess.

"Let go for me, ángel," his dark, pleading eyes invite you to jump over the edge, "That's it. That's fucking it, baby. Cum for me."

Your skin trembles like a live wire. He's pulling another orgasm out of you and you don't even know where it's coming from or how he could get you to do it again. But you are. It shows up in your fingers curling, your thighs fluttering until streams of your sex leak from around his cock in your climax.

You're speechless. Moans come from you, yes, but you're so fucked out there's no words that could be put together to describe how fucked you really are.

Your legs fall on either side of Javi's waist, and there's a moment of cognition as your hand reaches to touch Javi's face. "You are so handsome," it slips out before you can stop it, but you don't want it to. Your thumb finds the divot at his bottom lip. Recall the way he tastes of you now. The tops of your fingers stroke his clean shaven cheek.

A face so hauntingly beautiful for a human up to no good. You knew snippets of his past, but his pout nudging against your palm tells you more than any story. Lets you know exactly who he is. You knew the truth.

"Get on your back, honey." You encourage, coaxing his cock out of you – still hard and dying for release.

Surprisingly, he does what he's told, unable to stop himself from kissing your cheek and you swallow down words.

No need to complicate things further.

So you climb on top of him instead. "Shit, cariño. Look at you." That makes you blush, his warm and strong palm splays on top of your breast to brush a digit over your nipple and you shiver. Tentatively, you take him back in and make an oomph sound. He somehow feels deeper like this.

You're intentional in the roll of your hips, but the pace is far too slow for Javi. He needs you, needs the chase of something. "Let me," he grits, pulling your chest onto his and pins your arms behind you in his own bear hug.

The way he digs his heels into the mattress to fuck you, to use you to get himself off is borderline degrading but his quiet praises against your skin has you lit up again in ways you don't anticipate. He slaps your ass hard enough to leave a mark before petting where you connect. This leaves your sticky sweetness to cover his lap in no time.

"Hermosa, h-hermosa," his voice staggers at the shell of your ear, hips erratic while it feels like he's fucking you into oblivion. "So fucking good for my cock, pretty girl."

You have orgasmed so many times now it feels automatic when it happens again, but this time you take note of his arms tightening around you. A hand in your hair. "Just like that, just– fuck. Take it." It almost sounds like a resignation, but his waist pounds you both into another wave of pleasure until he emptied inside of you, filling the condom.

You both stay still. Spent. Relaxed. Eyes bleary, the two of you collapse into assuage.

A pile of shuddering, panting limbs tangle together in the wake of something devious and beautiful.

"Pretty, pretty girl." You hear him say into the top of your head. The hint of affection aches at your heart.

It's then you become acutely aware of how tight your wedding band feels around your ring finger.

---

Javi lights a cigarette in the middle of your afterglow, and it's intimate, him sharing it with you. You hold it, sobriety taking your head, and it frightens you when you don't pull away from him as you begin to think more clearly.

In fact, you roll onto your stomach. Body half-slung onto his, your tits pushed together perfectly as you sit up your elbows.

Taking the cigarette between your lips, you inhale, leaning to him as you push the smoke to billow into his mouth. He exhales the rest through his nose and your tongue tastes the plush lips in front of you because, fuck, it might be the last time you can.

"What do we do?" You ask after a while. It's quiet, and you give the stick back to him by dangling it between his lips.

"I was gonna ask you the same thing." His words muffled by it, he takes a drag before leaving it to burn between his fingers. He puffs the smoke away from you. "You stay with him, bebita. You work it out. And when you need to be fucked, you call me. When he's being a cabrón, you call me. I'll make you forget about him."

Your survey the curtains in his room, the blue glow of dawn tempting to bring another day forward. You don't like his idea, but that doesn't make it wrong.

"You mean you don't want to run away together?" You joke, your eyes conveying, no really it's a joke. I swear. And he runs his fingers across your cheek to pinch it lightly, lips pressing together when he shakes his head 'no'.

"You know we can't do that."

The words bring Julian back to life. Shows his existence in a way that doesn't make you want to push him away. Through the love Javi has for him.

Despite it all, love. A common goal the two of you have for the man who is probably worried sick over you.

Just before guilt tempts to wrap its vengeful claws around your throat, Javi stops it in its tracks.

"You took what you wanted. That's all."

You nod compliantly, not willing to argue in order to savour the moment. Your head brushes against his chest and you close your eyes. If only to capture this feeling a little while longer.

You allow his words to integrate, and swallow down the antagonist of his statement: that there was more you wanted. You were certain the chase of this, the irrevocable quench from throes you shared with Javier, would not just die down.

Terrible that you didn't want it to. You would take what you wanted.

[lionlena]

☆MASTERLIST☆

Pedro Pascal

One Shot:

♡A kitchen disaster

♡Just let it go…

♡New job, new problems...

♡Just breathe

Series:

♡His Curls - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (completed)

♡Hate run, love speed - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (in progress)

♡We don’t love each other - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 - Final (completed)

Request:

♡A perfect day for a perfect girl (It's your birthday and Pedro makes you feel loved and special all day)

Headcanon:

♡What sleeping position do they most like when you are with them? (Pedro Pascal characters)💤

♡How will they react to your makeup? (Pedro Pascal and his characters) 👁️👄💅

♡Headcanon: How do they behave when you have a migraine? (Pedro Pascal characters)🩹😴   (+ Dave and Marcus)

♡Headcanon: How will they react if you tell them about CDD? (Pedro Pascal characters) 👰💔😱🤕  

♡Headcanon: Who will be ready to kill for you? From most willing to least... (Pedro Pascal characters) 🔪💀☠️🩸

♡Headcanon: How do they cook for you? (Pedro Pascal characters) 🥕🧑‍🍳🍓

Joel Miller

One Shot:

♡This is just a nightmare… (The Last of Us ff/ Joel/Ellie)

♡Strong for both of us

♡Trouble with ex

♡Dyeing your hair…

Series:

♡Unforgivable mistake, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12 (in progress)

♡I can't be everywhere (No outbreak!) Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4... (in progress)

Request:

♡You need a better place (Joel loving a girl with epilepsy)

♡Blue dress (Joel Miller x plus size!reader)

Headcanon:

♡When Joel goes limp… (JoelMillerxf!reader)🤷🍆🩹

Javier Peña

One Shot:

♡I’ll protect you… (bc you’re mine)

♡I’ll hurt you… ( bc you’re mine )

♡I’ll leave you (bc youre not mine)

♡I'll stay with you... ( bc I love you)

♡You’re hot…

♡A girl from the street

Series:

♡Dancing With Your Ghost - Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Epilogue (completed)

♡Too many shadows behind you - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,  Part 4, Part 5 (in progress)

Headcanon:

♡Nicotine (JavierPeña and You)

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels)

Series:

♡Dynasty - Part 1, Part 2, (in progress)

One Shot:

♡Mean (JackDanielsxf!reader)

Javi Gutierrez

One Shot:

♡Too hot

Frankie Morales

One Shot:

♡Lost cat

Marcus Pike

One Shot: 

♡"7.44 am"

Oberyn Martell

Series:

♡Red Viper and Fox - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (in progress, soon english version)

One Shot:

♡♕Queen's Milk

♡I Hold You

♡Remember me… (ANGST!)

The Old Guard (movie)

One Shot: 

♡ Amira

♡ It hurts like hell    

[luna-xelaju]

the loves of my life

[javitrulovesims]

Just finished an old MM-fication project that i started back in July. Cornelia Crumplebottom and Jamie Jolina look quite stunning on these.

[creedslove]

I'm so delusional I watched a video of a wife preparing her husband's lunchbox and I felt so guilty for not writing about our husband yesterday

[lokischocolatefountain]

Pedro Pascal’s Javier Peña and his goddamn sunglasses I’m writing fanfic about

[beskarboobs]

Javier memes 4 U

this one is for @juletheghoul !!! you asked for Javier forever ago and here they finally are lol

[notjustjavierpena]

Does hubby and his wife have rougher sex sometimes? I saw you wrote a post where you thought about him spanking her 🙊🙈

Rough (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: This is just a little treat because I love getting smutty anons. The monkey emojis really made me do it. As always, thank you to @angelofsmalldeath-codeine for beta’ing. Absolute queen 🫡💖

Summary: PWP. It is what it is!

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)

Tags: husband!javier loves his wife, dom/sub undertones, rough sex, doggy style, pet names, praise kink, dirty talk, spanking, light choking, sprinkled with breeding kink, sprinkled with some love and devotion

Word count: 800

Rough

Javier has you on your hands and knees. The house is empty except for you, all doors and windows closed to allow what you are doing to reach a volume that would concern your neighbors if they heard.

“Put your hands on the headboard,” he commands as he fucks you and you immediately grab it so harshly that your knuckles start to hurt. However, you are too caught up in the way pleasure shoots through your system like tiny electric currents to notice.

“Who’s a good girl?” He asks and lets his palm come down on your ass and your moan is pathetic. The lingering sting makes you clamp down on his cock, causing a low growl to spill from his mouth in the midst of his strained panting. He goes impossibly rougher and sends you flying forward until you have to cross your arms in front of you, rest them on the headboard, and lay your forehead against them if you don’t want to bang into the wall.

“Me,” you whisper, trying to concentrate on your rapidly approaching orgasm. His cockhead is grinding against your g-spot with each thrust, and it feels so good that you cannot keep sounds from pouring from your lips. Your heart beats fast, your face is hot and you can feel sweat run down your spine as you share body heat with him.

“Say it louder, Princesa (princess),” he groans and smacks your ass again, “C’mon now, let me hear it.”

“It’s me,” you let him know in a higher-pitched voice. He makes a sound of approval but you keep begging for him to make you finish, “Please, baby.”

“And who did a good job tonight?” He continues his questions with a shakier voice. You try to imagine the way his forehead creases slightly when he is focused, and the mental image makes your clit jump.

“Me!” You try to grind back into him, “Oh God, I’m—“

“M-hm, baby. You’re my sweet, good girl,” his breath hitches in his throat when you start to flutter around him, signaling that your pleasure is just around the corner. He pounds your g-spot, “And who gets to come on my cock?”

“I do,” you reply without hesitation, and then you peak after those words. As you come with a loud cry of relief, he reaches around you to splay a hand on your chest and lifts you up until your back is against his chest. You moan feebly as you still feel the warm waves of pleasure pulsating between your legs, but the sound dies in your throat as his broad hand reaches upwards to grip around your neck. He holds you in place, the other hand going down to your cunt to stroke your clit until you cannot think anymore. It hurts so good to be forced to come again, and Javier drives into your sensitive cunt with newfound energy, desperate for his own release.

“Te quiero (I love you), I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant, baby, mi chica sucia (my dirty girl),” he bites at the spot behind your ear, squeezing around your throat. It is the sound of you choking on a moan as you come again that sends him over the edge, your walls pulling him further in and fucking the come from his cock. He groans and settles inside of you whilst he spills his load, giving you enough to make it drip down the sides of your abused hole whilst he is still nestled inside of you.

He slumps and holds your body close, resting his forehead between your shoulder blades. When you think it’s over, he thrusts one last time to push his seed as far inside of your cunt as possible before he might go soft. You sound like you might cry.

“Shh,” he soothes, “I’m taking care of you. No crying, mi amor (my love).”

“I love you too,” you finally reply.

“Lo sé (I know),” he kisses your back gently, moans when he slips out of you, “I’m gonna move, let yourself move with me.”

You nod with a whimper. He lets the both of you fall to the side and hugs you around the middle in this new position. You close your eyes, relishing in the way it feels like his cock has molded you forever, and sigh with deep satisfaction.

“Más (more),” you say softly, “Quiero más (I want more).”

“Bebita (little baby),” there is a hint of something condescending in his voice. You whine but he soothes you by reaching down to cup your whole mound, easing two fingers into you until you mewl, “You can have whatever you want.”

.

.

.

FOLLOW @notjustjavierpena-fics AND TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS 💖❤️💖❤️

[honeyedmiller]

snippet sunday (monday)

ty for the tag @mrsmando <3

husband!javi coming tonight (18+ below the cut)

no pressure tags (sorry if you’ve already been tagged!): @party-hearses @ilovepedro @joelsgreys @joelscurls @pascalpvnk & anyone else who wants to join.

[nicolethered]

I have spent a lot of time thinking about him 🧎‍♂️

[millerscoffee]

soft spot for trouble | part two | hbf!javi

my celluloid scenes are torn at the seams.

6.8k | javier peña x f!reader

part one | masterlist

rating: 18+ MDNI

warnings: husband's best friend, infidelity, hangover, confiding in ur bff, a lot of tears - like a lot, guilt, shame, nauseating truths, phone sex, mutual masturbation, lots of dirty talk, edging for a second, hints of subspace and papí!javi, pet names & degrading names (slut, bebita, cariño), javi would do anything to have reader and kind of says it tbh. no use of y/n.

summary: after waking up in javi– peña's house, guilt rushes you. after discovering another truth about your husband, you wonder if your marriage is salvageable.

A/N: just wanted to say thank you for all of your support and encouragement. i really appreciate the response part one received, and hope to continue loving these two as much as i do. enjoy! ♡

When you wake up, your mouth is a desert.  Cigarettes, whiskey, and the faint taste of someone who wasn’t your husband coats your tongue.  Head pounding, there are parts of your body you didn’t realise could even get dry.  Your eyes aren’t open yet, as if you need the world to calibrate with you before you adjust to it, and when you do – you know where you are immediately.

Guilt hits you like a thousand stones to your chest.

“Fuck,” you sit up all to fast, it dizzies you, only adding to your heart palpitations.  “Fuck,” you choke a sob.  Fearful, panicked.  What the fuck have you done?

Javi– Peña wasn’t in his bed.  You weren’t sure where he was, and you didn’t want to find out.  Not a single part of you could bring yourself to look at him.  The two of you held a secret that shouldn’t have seen the light of day– or, the light of neon.  You get flashbacks of the bar, of his hands on you.  It’s all too much, rebelling up your throat as your eyes dart around in a dire need for the bathroom.

You make your way out of bed enough to hit your knees in front of the toilet bowl, the rest of your regret becoming a tangible entity residing with you in Javier's bathroom.  Couldn’t get any worse.  At least that’s what you think, until you come to the sinking realisation that Julian doesn’t know where you are.  You place your forehead over your forearm and cry into the toilet: vomit, snot, and tears taking over your face.  The prettiest sight.  A hangover’s dream.

You give yourself time to be here.  You knew if your husband would wait on you this long, he’d continue to be patient until you got yourself together.  This truth makes your howling worse, shaking from how royally messed up your life has become within a matter of hours.  It takes about five more minutes for you to regulate your nervous system enough to stand up, but everything equally feels like it’s spinning and that makes things difficult.

You groan on your way upright, letting out a heavy sigh before rising to your feet and flushing.  You wash your mouth out, wash your face, try to cleanse yourself from the night before.  You redirect any thought that may suggest otherwise.  It wasn’t meant to happen, and Javier would know that soon.

It doesn’t take you too much longer to feel suitable in exiting the bathroom when you realise just how naked you are – completely, even.  And he was right, you had a limp you couldn’t ignore.  That truth, you couldn’t help but bite a grin back at.  He was everywhere if you focused: you could still feel him inside you, your hips sore all the way to the apex of your thighs and down.  He was everywhere.  God, you were fucked up for finding it sexy.

A shirt you never really saw him in was on the bed… did he leave that for you?  You slip the larger t-shirt over your frame and ignore the way it smelled innately like Javi.  Peña, you remind yourself.

After the worn fabric touches your skin, you’re brave enough to tiptoe out into his living room.  Your eyes scan the kitchen where he ate you out.  Where he made you squirt.  It all looks cleaned now, as if nothing happened.  A part of you hopes it’s true, and it fights with the other side of you begging for a round two.  All of the quiet giving signs of one truth: Javier is not at home.  No note, no instructions if you should lock up.  Just gone.

Maybe it was better that way.  Loneliness didn’t creep around you in the way it would if Julian did this to you.  It didn’t cause any disruption in your day, or alter it dramatically.  If anything, you felt relieved you didn’t have to talk to him.  To excavate an already awkward and dead situation.  You took what you wanted, that was all.

You decide to utilise his shower, going back to the hellscape that was where you threw up and undressed again.  You turn the dials to a steamy, hot shower – he wouldn’t mind right?  You’d send him a bill.  When it’s time, the water feels like a blessing as your sinuses open.  Your head, less bogged down, yet a cloud of shame resides in the shower with you.  You were careful not to use his products, not to smell like him if you could help it and definitely remove the scent of cigarettes from your skin… if it were possible.  Regardless, you stay in the shower a little longer before it’s time to remove yourself.

Being in Peña’s space when he wasn’t here was nice.  Although, it looks new… because it was.  Furniture littering the living room when you’re dried and dressed.  He was back from Colombia, and that’s really as much as he was willing to share.  He didn’t know for how long, and it was tinged with rushed embarrassment about the issue.

But, most of his work was like that, from what you could tell.  A lot of secrecy, inability to talk about his work out in the open.

He knew how to keep a secret.

No, don’t go there.

The skirt’s zipper is popped open from last night and when you try to pull it up, you resign to tie your jacket around the fabric.  It’s not long before you’re out.

That was that.

But you can’t go home.  You lean back against Peña’s front door when the palpitations come back in full force, as if the fresh air held truths about what you did than you could even comprehend.  Fucked, you’re fucked.

Your hair is wet, you’re kind of cold even though the Texan heat surrounds you.  You feel lost and scared and disgusting.  And as if your mind maps your route for you, you walk to Gabbie’s instead of your own house.  Knuckles graze over the door, you don’t even really know what time it is, but there’s a possibility she’s at work unle– “...Are you okay?”  Gabbie looks concerned when she opens the door to find you on the other side: hungover, mascara still seemingly down your face even after the shower, your clothes reeking.  She sees you for who you are, unable to stop the floodgates from lifting.  Your face screws up in a weep you can’t stop, and she ushers you inside – looking behind her before closing the door.

“I… I…,” you hiccup, burying your face in your best friend’s shoulder, you feel it when she lets you give in to her.  A worry comes over you, would she still support you like this after she finds out the truth?  After she finds out who you really are?  Repulsion grips your throat again, unable to form it.  But Gabbie is tolerant, you always appreciated it about her.  You needed the space to think, and she was always good at giving that to you.  Something Julian was more impatient about, but it wasn’t the time to point out his shortcomings.  God, your head hurt.

“C’mon, let’s get you some tea,” she whispers, curling her nose at the scent of smoke on the fabric, “and some new clothes.”  You sniffle and nod, following her into the kitchen while she goes to grab some comfortable clothes for you to replace.

“What happened, honey?”

With your arms curled at the kitchen counter, you rest your head in them, “I fucked everything up.”  It feels like you did, feels like you couldn’t undo this if you tried – if you even wanted to.  Your voice sounds meek, whiny, you can’t believe it’s you who’s saying the words.  You could and wanted to be better than you were. 

“What do you mean?”  Gabbie pulls a couple of cups from the cupboard before turning on the kettle, your mind not registering the irony of having hot tea for where you are in the world, but her air conditioning made the experience understandable.  Really, any thought to take you out of your narrative aided in not completely fainting from the inertia of reality that stuck to the pit of your stomach.

“Julian and I,” you start.  An attempt.  A purchase.  Something to make it less bad than how you felt, anything to take the sting away.  “We-we had this big fight last night, and I-I went down to the bar and I ran into someone and…,” tears soak your face again, you choke on the sobs before you can get anything else out.  You couldn’t utter it, the guilt weaves a vice grip around your voice.  You couldn’t tell her it was Peña, and you couldn’t tell her you fucked anyone else but your husband.  Those two truths pinned your eyes down, disabling you to look up from the granite tops.

You weren’t looking for sympathy, and Gabbie knew that.  But fuck, when you look up, pity is coating her face.  She mutters your name when she walks around the side and grips you in a hug.  “You love him, honey.  You made a mistake.  What matters now is making it right.”

You’re not sure what hurt worse, the prospect of making it right or the fact that when Gabbie calls what you had with Peña a mistake, it twists a knife inside you – one you weren’t sure you could take out now.

You pull away when the kettle begins to sing and you’re able to snort a laugh at her curled nose.  The scent of cigarettes, equally from Javi– Peña and the bar, circulates you.  “Seriously.  You need a shower.” “And those clothes, could I borrow some?”

After finishing your cup – and having a long talk, you utilise your friends shower and slip on a fresh pair of clothes – and you’re grateful for the guest bathroom stocked with unused toothbrushes.  You look more presentable, and feel a little better.  Albeit, feeling more indebted than before you came through the threshold of her place.  “Listen, I can’t and won’t tell you to hold this secret for me.  It’s too much to bear, you shouldn’t be responsible for holding this.”  Your hand brushes over your face, but she’s quick to interject.

“You’re my friend.  My best friend.  You don’t owe me anything.  I’m not going to leave you or rat you out.  I don’t judge you.  Just make this right, okay?  I hate to see you like this.”

She’s a good friend.  Makes you wonder if Julian is a friend like this to Peña.  Fuck, it never ends.

You don’t know what you did to deserve Gabbie, but you hug her anyway.  Your clothes in your bag, you’re on your way.  You thank her, you kiss her cheek, and you look intently into her eyes before leaving.

You had to make this right.

Julian, I had an affair, you think.  That’s how you’ll tell him.  No.  Listen, Julian – last night I got drunk.  God, no.  It was all wrong.

You had to tell him, but one thing was for certain: you weren’t going to say who.  You just couldn’t bring yourself to split up their friendship, no matter how mutually involved Javier was.  And you couldn’t bear the thought of Julian’s borderline smug expression at how correct he was in assuming the worst of you.

How he did one thing wrong and you made a dumpster fire of it.

The pounding in your head was more from tension and stress by the time you made it to your front door.

And nervous couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt.  Nauseous, heart pounding, sweat prickles your skin.

When you unlock the door, a new sense of silence fills the air of your home.  It’s eerie, being here after doing what you did.  Like your past self is slapping you in the face as soon as you close the door behind you.  ‘How could you ruin this home?  How could you throw away every second of time and love you poured into this relationship?’.  You close your eyes, dizzy as you press the back of your head against the frame of your house – finding support, finding breath.  But not finding your husband.

“Julian?” you call out, toeing your shoes off before putting your purse away; keys in the pot.  Nothing.  No where.

You make your way to the kitchen when you find a note.

Out with Peña.  Be back soon.  I miss you.  – J

Fuck.  Holy fucking shit.  What?  What?!  Your mouth slacks open in shock.  Followed by fear, followed by rage.  Did Javier invite him out?  While you were fucking asleep?  You felt as though you were going to faint when you heard the phone ring.  Throat dry, you cling to the edge of the tabletop before taking the phone off the hook – you shakily press the receiver to your ear.  “H-hello?”

“Wow, you sound guilty,” your breath hitches and hotness washes over your skin.

“Peña, I–”

“Who’s Peña, huh?  Not necessarily what you were saying last n–”

“Stop.  Just stop.  Where’s Julian?  He left a note, said he was with you.  Did you?  God, I can’t even say it.”

You can hear the drag of a cigarette on the other line and it forms flashbacks you did your best to deny you enjoyed.  You were so logical, so level-headed before his voice filtered through the microphone – the moment you hear the slip of nectarous syllables, you want to fold.  You hated this.  Pressing your forehead to the adjacent wall, the phone hangs loosely in your fist when you listen.

“I didn’t tell him anything, querida,” tears form in your eyes from your lack of control; the pet name panging you.  It shouldn’t have, but goddammit.  Goddammit.  Your hand braces against the pillar-lengthed frame, “he’s at work now.  He came by looking for you.  I told him you were with me last night–”

“What the fuck, Javier.”

“People saw you leave with me last night,” your name fits in his mouth better than it should and you swallow hard, knowing he’s right. “He would have found out.”

“This has to stop, we have to stop,” you can hear it – the strain on your throat, the knife inside, that ever present hum of your doom.  Your clammy palm touches your jaw as you will yourself to stand up straighter.  Instantly queasy, bad idea.  You sink down the wall, sitting down as the cord of the phone follows you.

“I know,” Javier whispers now, a bit pained.

“Did it hurt seeing him?” Your own voice bruised.

“Not as much as I anticipated.  That hurt more, probably.”

It’s quiet for a long time.  Your knees curled up to your chest, hands curled until your chin.

“I know that we have to stop,” Javi– fuck, Peña, starts, “I don’t know if I can.”

“Fuck,” you whisper, “we have to.” and it’s there.  It’s right there in how you say it.  How your words draw out rather than cut sharp.  More beseeching than a strong boundary.  An obvious sign of how you bend for him like kinetic energy’s effect on tree limbs from wind.  It is all in motion, too close to stop.  Your barrier is already washing away, and you cling closely to its threads.  You must keep your wits about you.  “We have to,” you repeat, your voice soaked in tears this time.

On the other line, Javier squeezes his eyes shut.  The cigarette burns between his fingers as he presses his index and thumb where the bridge of his nose meets.  And the thing with Javi, is that he doesn’t beg, but you’ve got him so wrapped up – so enthralled in what could be, maybe the chase, that he can’t see anything else.  “What will it take?”

That is when you hear the doorknob turn.  “I have to go,” you hush, rising to your feet and wiping your face, “can I call you later?” but he’s already hung up, so you do the same.  It knocks the air out of you, but you don’t have time to dwell.

Julian turns the corner to where you are: almost hidden between the kitchen and laundry room.  And if you were crying more, you’re doubled in tears now.

“Julian,” you cry, rushing to him.  Your arms wrap around him and although he wraps back around you, you’re left with a sinking feeling: guilt, shame, a veracity that this touch you were feeling wasn’t half as electric as the one you felt last night.  “Julian, I’m so sorry.” you snivel in his shoulder, feeling his arms wrap around you tighter.  The nose against your temple doesn’t feel as strong as Javier’s, and it all stings.  It feels a new sense of wrong when you pull away, and he’s thumbing under your eyes.

“No, I’m sorry,” his voice is soft, beckoning you to be close, and you want to – you really want to.

But you don’t know if you can.

That rush of why this shatter exists in the first place comes in waves as it crashes into your skin – leaving a film of betrayal over every cell.  Because it wasn’t just his lying that led you to the bar last night, it was the repetitious behaviour.  Julian’s demanding a different treatment than what he gave.  Your arms slip from him and hang by your sides, giving yourself some space.

“I guess you know where I was last night,” you bite the corner of your lip, leaning against the wall for some stability, arms crossed.

“Yeah, I went to see Peña.  Was worried sick about you, you know.  You couldn’t have called?” you suppose you deserved that.  You nod swiftly, “I should have, I’m really sorry.  I just, I needed to clear my head.”

“Well, since you stayed at his place, I hope you realise how silly this all is.  How miniscule it all is.  Just because I slept with Veronica–”

“Excuse me?” your eyes widen, “Veronica… Veronica… The same Veronica who you told me not to worry about?” you remember the party – a holiday party with Julian’s coworkers, one of which, Veronica.  Red lipstick is easy to trace: cups, forks, your husband’s cheek.

He promised it was nothing, promised it was only a friendly kiss under the mistletoe and now, a year later, you’re in your kitchen being told that only was it something, it was something that went on for years.  “How fucking long have you known her, Julian?”

When your eyes cut to him, he looks frozen.  Like he didn’t mean for it to come out, and now he has unraveled such a can of worms he doesn’t know where to begin, but you sure do.  He doesn’t deserve to waste another second of your time today.  You felt so guilty, so wrong for every second of your day only to be lied to for who knows how long.  Your mind reels at the possibilities.  The double-dealing.

“I-I can’t have you in this house.  I need you out.  I need you out, get out.  Pack a fucking bag, I need space.”

You had no room to talk, you knew that, but after a whole day of worrying yourself to the bone, and this was how it really was?  The details he neglected to inform you for how long?  You brush past him before he can respond, and it hurts more that he doesn’t put up a fight.  Packs a bag, tells you he’s going to stay with Javier, and leaves within fifteen minutes.  Your knees buckle the second the door closes behind him, heavy wails rattling your ribcage.

---

You’re not sure your face has ever been so puffy.  You pour a glass of water, and you just barely remember to eat, but you do.  You don’t open the blinds, though.  At least you’re trying.  Keeping the house dark, it’s surprising when you don’t reach for alcohol or something to numb this, but a part of you wonders if he’ll call.

And you don’t mean Julian.

The sun sets, leaving inky blue in the sky when you get ready for bed.  It’s been such a long day that you couldn’t imagine staying up for a second longer.  After a long bath, you change into your silk pyjamas.  You’re not sure you’ve taken so many showers or baths in one day, either.  That makes the stranger of an amused grin grace your features.  You were washing away every memory you could from today.

Getting under the blankets, you look over to Julian’s side of the bed.  How empty it was, how you missed him.  You couldn’t help it.  The two of you built a life together, but one that you were coming to understand was built on more lies than one and god, you just couldn’t cry about it any more tonight.

But it was lonely like this.

You wondered what the two of them were doing.  If Peña– fuck it– Javi was listening to him, if Julian was lying to him.  Thoughts flooded you so much the sound of the phone on your nightstand is background noise until you realise it.  A gasp flutters your lungs, turning your head to it.  Shit.

Picking up the phone, you place it to your ear, but you don’t say anything immediately.  A nauseating twelve seconds.

“Cariño?” your breath hitches when you hear him.  Sinking further down in the bed, your legs brush against the sheets and your eyes slip shut.  It’s a relief where earlier in the day it was a curse.

“Javi–,” you start, tears pricking your eyes, and he’s already catching you.

“I know, baby, I know.”

And you want so bitterly to scream I’m not your baby, you don’t want anyone near you in this way after the day you had – after the deception that coated your marriage from both you and your husband lies in wait for you both to get back to.  But you don’t tell him that, you don’t contest.

Instead you sniff softly and wipe your eyes.  You focus on your inhales, you settle yourself down.

You are there for yourself more than anyone else could ever be.

“Is he there?” a part of you worries Javi won’t like what you asked, that he will feel slighted, but you’re relieved when he answers you without a passing judgment.

“He is, I think he’s asleep now.  I’m not sure what you told him, but he was a mess.  He, uh, called you crazy, though…,”

“He what?” your jaw tightens, clenching the sheets with your free hand, “He’s the fucking crazy one–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Javi’s voice hushes you in his smooth, but matter-of-fact way, and you close your mouth. “I know.  I was there, remember?  We all went to college together.”

“Who was the other woman?  Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“I’m not sure, I think she was from out of town.  And I didn’t know that you didn’t know, remember?  What happened?”  So you explain.  Tell Javi all about the way Julian assured you not to worry about her at the company party, or any time thereafter.  Peña curses under his breath, “What a fucking idiot, I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah,” your jaw ticks, tempting to pull your tears back in.  No more tonight.

“Seriously.  You don’t deserve this.  You deserve… someone who’s honest with you.  For better or for worse.”

For better, for worse.  You weren’t sure if Javi did that intentionally, but the vow makes you feel sick now on what was a beautiful wedding day.  It’s simultaneous, the remembering of it.  But you shove it down, deep.  You want to forget.

So you sigh.  Occiput at the headboard, and you close your eyes – just wanting some peace.  A distraction, maybe?  It was just so present, and it burned as strong as your desire for Javier that couldn’t be contained for a second longer.  Especially not now with yet another thing on your plate pulled you away from who you thought was the love of your life.

“Where are you?” you ask, and you think it’s unassuming enough, but the slight exhale of laughter from the other end calls you out, “I’m in bed. I assume you’re the same?”

“Shocked you wouldn’t be out all night.”

“You know, I wanted to go to this girl’s place tonight, but she’s kinda going through a lot right now.  Seemed a little too much,” he’s hushed now and the transition of his voice stirs your middle.  It shouldn’t, but it does.

Worse, it makes you smile.

“She sounds like a bore,” you swipe a thumb over your grin, but there was some truth to that.  Despite the adventurous couple days, you didn’t necessarily feel like you were an exciting person.  You had a 9-5 (lucky to be off today), you had a husband.  You did your activities, and you came home.  This was the most excitement you’ve experienced in, well, maybe since you met Julian.  There were areas you were passionate about that either got abandoned due to it not meshing with his schedule, or him not approving of it.

Was he ever good for you?

“She sounds like she needs to relax.”

“What are you suggesting?” you respond.  The tension cuts like a knife even through the phone, and you can hear his own smile form.  If you close your eyes, you can see it.

“It’s cute when you play dumb.”

“What?  Phone sex?” you question as if your words are twisting a lock of your hair, ripe for the picking.

“Is that what this is?” Javi questions, giving you the same fake-innocence that’s being thrown at him.

“Is that what you want?”

There’s a pause, contemplative and feverish.  The sound of fabric plays in the background until ultimately stillness.

“You would get off while your husband is in my apartment across the hall?” Javi’s quiet, but his words cause your legs to spread, a bitten noise in the back of your throat greets you on this hellish day on earth.  “Mierda. You’re so dirty, you know that?  Willing to do anything for me.”

“I’m not sure I should do anything you tell me,” you start with a flash of amusement, you’re unable to think about anything but the slick gathering between your legs, “but I want to.”

“You need it, bebita?  You need me to take care of you?  Because I can, but only if you tell me.”

You bite your bottom lip, slipping your head over your pillow as you get comfortable in the dark.

“Take care of me, Javi.  Make me feel good.”

And it was working already, your other hand skates over your abdomen as a shiver sends through you.

“Do you think it’s that easy?”  a growl behind his voice, you gasp quietly at the sound.  “Beg me.”

“God, after today?  Seriously, Javi?”

“Beg.”

And there’s something about the way he barks an order that makes your hole clench around nothing.  Like last night when he pulled back because you weren’t giving him what he wanted right away.  Makes you want to do as he says, and you can’t explain why.

“Javi,” clouded in arousal, your legs squeeze together to feel friction – 180° turn around from your protests, “I need you, I want to cum for you.  Want to know how good you make me feel.  Please, Javi.”

You hear Javi’s jeans unzip.  Jeans in bed, the mad man.

“We’re going slow, bebita.  Understand?  Go ahead, slip your hand down.  You'll do as I say, sí?”

Instinctively, your free hand slips down, gasping at the pool of wetness there.  More than what you thought, something comes over you.  The heat of pleasure washes over any other thought. 

“Yes – yes, Javier.  I’ll do as you say.  Tell me what to do, Javi – fuck – please!  Tell me how to get myself off,” your tongue darts out of your lips, brain swimming as the swell of your sex pulses in crashing undulations demanding to be touched.

And Javi fucking loves that.  The desperation in your voice, wrecked with desire, and you’re so sober compared to last night.  All of this is true.  Your eagerness drives him to his own cliff, abandoning any remorse he has for his friend.  The focus shifts on you and Javi alone.

“Take your index finger and ring finger.  Are you paying attention?”  you hum, focusing on those two fingers.  “Yes or no, hermosa?  Use your words.”

And you waste no time in humming again, spreading your wetness across your folds from the shift of your thighs.  “Yes, I’m paying attention,” orbs already glossy, the lost sound of you is initiative for Javi.

“Spread your lips apart with them and lightly — I mean it, cariño,” he warns briefly, “lightly press your middle finger against your clit.”

So you do as you’re told.  Your fingers are natural as they spread your lips, and you let out a heady sigh when your middle finger grazes over your clit.  “S’sensitive,” you slur, biting a sob as your head rocks to the side against the plushness of pillow.  “Javi…,”

“You feel that, babygirl?  That's good.  Keep my cunt pried open.  Roll your middle finger against your clit, harder this time.  That clit your husband neglects, but I found day one.  Bounce the pad of your finger against it, up and down just like that.  Good girl.  I bet you look like a dream, princesa.  Wish I could taste you…,” he trails off and you can hear the faint sound of his skin.  You imagine him hard while he talks to you, the cherry of his head beading with precum as he smears it down the shaft.  It sends you to whine, bouncing the pad of your middle finger – up and down, just like he instructs.  You’re being so good for him, and you know it.  Following what he says, word for word.  Your folds feel so soft like this, you wonder if he’s telling you to touch yourself this way to absorb just how good you feel.

“Jav– I,” you swallow, the sparkle of pleasure hitting you with each pass, you need more.  Need a depth to take you under more than the shallowness of this teasing.  “Please,” you whisper, and you’re not sure you could elaborate.  You’re so gone.  It doesn’t land on you, the trust you’re placing in him and how willing he is to hold it.  But it is there without putting words to it.  And Javi?  He is fully aware of the space you’re taking yourself to.  Just for him.

“Yeah?  Is that not enough?  But you’re such a depraved slut I bet you could get off just by doing that, I know you could.  I'll be kind, you’re welcome,” god he’s so cocky, and it’s still so sexy – how can he manage it? “Press your clit between your index and middle finger.  Are you doing it?”

“Mmn’doing it,” you manage, eyes slipping shut – even in the dark, you can only focus on the way his words spill – viscous and sweet – into the telephone.  “Oh, you like being called that, yeah?  Are you my slut?”  “Javi, Javi,” you whimper, pressure at your clit between your fingers you know you’re soaked now, “M’your slut!  Fuck!” you’re panting, sweat forming at the nape of your neck.

“Good girl, princesa.  Squeeze your clit – un poco, just a little.  Can you do that for papí?” and fuck, you haven’t heard him say that, either.  Two firsts in one phone call.  Your body is in overdrive, you can feel wetness slip from your hole over the crease of your ass, against your thighs, “Flick your clit between those two fingers.  Back and forth.  Do it now.  God, listen to you.  Dirty girl wants to cum with her husband snoring in the other room.  Bet that’s the first time you’ve cum in your bed in a long time.”

And you’re pathetic, whimpering like crazy as you flick your fingers back and forth around your clit.  You can feel the swell, how hard the nub of nerves feels – shocks of electricity run through you, you’re so close like this.  The fast motions taking you until–

“Hands off — now.” you gasp, panting against the ledge, not so silently begging for your release.

“I want to hear her.  Middle finger.  Don’t go all the way in.”

So you do as you’re told, your throat dry and rough.  You lean the receiver to your sopping cunt so he can hear the tapping of your hole that’s so soaked it almost hurts.  When you bring your phone back to your ear, you tighten it between your ear and shoulder and Javi is busy singing praises to her before he realises you’re back.  He sounds different.  Possessive.  Just like you wanted him to be last night.

“That fucking cunt.  That’s mine.  That's for me.  Julian called you crazy, but he ate dinner exactly where I made you cream on my fucking kitchen counter last night.  He won’t say shit about you and get away with it.”  He sounds hushed, but rough like this.  Like you can hear him snarl those words at the base of your ear while he takes you from behind.  Your heart picks up at the imagery he’s given you.  The symbolism of his protection of you, and you let the flames take you.

There is no going back.

“Touch yourself.  Two fingers in your cunt, roll that gorgeous clit.  Perfect, messy pussy,” and you can hear it now— the slapping of his skin more intentional than before.

Your two fingers tease your hole, groaning without holding back from the touch and how wet you feel.  And he was right, you were so… messy.  It spreads over your outer labia, your thighs, up to your clit.  All from the sound of his voice, all from his claim over you – how protected you felt.  Desired.  You bite your lip as you work your fingers inside, rolling your sensitive clit in lazy strokes – doing your best to keep the phone close.  Moans drip easily from your wanton mouth.

“Tell me what you’re doing,” you mewl, head spinning from the way his hand is around your throat without even being there to touch you.

“Fuck.  Got my fist around my cock, right at the base before bringing it up.  Stroking at my head.  You have it twitching, bebita.  You make me so fucking hard.  You’d love it.  That slutty mouth would lap up every bit of precum – mierda, fuck.”

Even his muttering sounds sinful, leaving your bottom lip tucked into your mouth, sucking hard at the skin.  Your hole tightens around your fingers and you work yourself to peaks, massaging your clit in deep circles that work in tandem with the repetitious tapping against that spot inside you.

“Faster,” you finally purr, unsure if you’ll find it together – but god, do you want it so bad.  You’re not even sure if it’s a plea or a demand to him, but you leave it.

And he’s secure enough to let you boss him, if only for a moment.

“Fuck.  You too.  Now.  Are you a good girl?”

“Hmmpnh,” you uselessly whimper, nodding to no one.  “I’m a good girl, I’m a good girl–” whining praises over and over, Javi’s grunts got more deliberate, more in time with your puling sounds.  You’re shaking, needing to be sent to your climax, you beg to him in the broken words between exhalations.

“That’s it, bebita – be a good little slut.  Give it up to me – mierda, got my cock throbbing for it.  Wish I was cumming in your perfect little cunt – fuck.  Let go, let me fucking hear it,” there’s a pause as he huffs into your ear, his attempt to find composure, as he grits through his teeth.

“Make my fucking pussy come, now.”

That demand, that ownership is what sends you.  Your body responding to it instantly, you moan – hips lifting off of the bed as you nod.  Nipples standing to attention as your body rolls through waves of pleasure, cunt fluttering around your fingers so tight and rhythmically the phone drops for a moment and you can hear a loud grunt on the other line – one that was dangerously foolish, your name falling from his mouth when you both knew just who was in his house.  You didn’t even care.  Not one part of you was cautious in this moment as you both fell into the throes of this affair.

Your body convulses before its inevitable release.  Your muscles, tense, now relax into a puddle.  You sigh, pulling away from your core and skillfully avoid getting the phone sticky as you put it back to your ear.

As you’re both just a pair of lungs battling breath between the phone connection, you shift in bed, rolling onto your side, the receiver slipping to your other ear.  Savouring the seconds, the feelings of connection.  You realise you lack this with Julian now.  You didn’t notice it before.  All a feeling, and not intellectualised, but it’s palpable, like a looming presence at the bottom of this ocean.

Your thoughts come and go as a yawn finally leaves Javi, and it’s kind of sweet to hear him be soft.  To hear his humanity.

“When will I see you again?” you break the silence timidly, and honestly, despite the quite literal affair happening, you’re surprised the question slips by your lips.

Who was this person Javi brought out in you?

You can recall the times the two of you shared glances in silence before this.  Not so many words were shared, and back then you thought it was due to lack of interest in each other’s lives, but now… now you’re realising it’s because of the volcano bubbling underneath the surface.  The potential you both share.

It was fucked, you’re fucked, and you’re scared.

But you still poke the bear because if you didn’t you knew you would spend the rest of your life curious about the cave it resides in.

Hibernation had to come to an end eventually.

“It can’t be soon,” this upsets him, you can tell, but he is nothing if not observant.  How odd this would look if the two of you started to hang out.  “A week or two, cariño.  We can make phone calls often.  But we have to wait.  Can you wait?”

And you want to tell him you’d wait ages for him, but you don’t.  You force the words back down your throat, and instead offer him a nod even though he cannot see it.

“I can wait, Javi.  I can wait for you.”

“That’s my good girl,” his words make your heart swell with pride, “I’ll call you.” he promises and you want to believe him so you do.

“I’ll call you, too,” fast to say it back.  And you don’t feel an ounce of desperation.  You feel renewed.  Empowered by this.  Confident.

“You should get some sleep, cariño.  Got a husband to fight with tomorrow.  He is not staying here.”

You both laugh as it simmers into comfortable silence.

“Okay…,” you’re reluctant, but you do agree to hang up.

“Goodnight, Javi.”

“Goodnight, ángel.”

You cling to the phone, and he hangs up first.  You’re left with yourself just as you were when you woke up this morning.  Surprised that you feel less guilty than you did earlier in the day, how swiftly your perception has changed of Julian, of your stance with Javier.  All of it.  You knew that you couldn’t just leave your husband at the drop of a hat, not after this much time had been put into the relationship.  But you knew nothing or no one could light you on fire the way Javier Peña did.

Finally latching the phone to the hook, you close your eyes.  The stickiness of your cunt peels your lips apart when you shift, and it’s a reminder of him.  Your skin grows hot, your fingers exploring yourself again – if only to touch, if only to bring him back to life just as he was speaking into your ear moments ago.  “Javi,” you whisper to yourself, nipples still erect from arousal.

And so you go again, with yourself, to make yourself feel good.  Not for Julian, and not for Javier.

For you.

Until your core is shaking, your spent body spreading over the bed when sleep finally takes you.

When was the last time you did that?  When was the last time you spent time on yourself rather than making sure your husband’s pleasure was prioritised?  You weren’t sure, but you didn’t have time to dwell.  Not with your eyelids getting heavy, drowned in your self-gratification.  This was the start of something new.  A new version of yourself actualised.

If anything, you were grateful for Javi’s presence.  Whether he was doing this selfishly or not, this shook you to the core.  He was waking you up.

And you had so much more to learn about yourself.

taglist: @cool-iguana @livingdeadmaria @sinfulrock @jasminedragoon @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin - comment to be added! if i missed you, please remind me!

[lionlena]

Headcanon: How will they react if you tell them about CDD? (Pedro Pascal characters) 👰💔😱🤕

I accidentally found a website about CDD (Christian Domestic Discipline) and I read a few fragments of articles by a certain moron. And I don't know what scared me more. Lack of basic respect and love for wife. Spanking is a form of punishment to correct the wife's behavior. Or the fact that the wife is always supposed to be willing and obey commands like "kneel" and willingly take his cock in her mouth... 🤢 🤮 I just felt sick (like someone punched me in the stomach) and I needed some therapy, so I went to my "Pedro's boys' comfort zone".

Joel Miller:

Joel is shaking with anger. He clenches his jaw and fists. It's not just about you, but also about Sarah. His blood boils at the thought that his beloved daughter's future husband could be such an idiot as this Christians perverts. Joel feels like breaking something. He'd break that dick's hands if he even tried to touch his daughter.

Then he looks at you in shock and asks, almost pleadingly, "Tell me you don't believe this nonsense? That you would never want me to treat you this way... I'm your husband, not some fucking medieval pastor!"

So of course you assure him that you would never want that. You like the fact that Joel is sometimes dominant, that he is decisive, but... At the same time, you know that you can do what you want. Joel would never take away your right to be yourself.

Joel confirms all this. You are his Princess. He knows he's grumpy sometimes. He doesn't like it when you do something he thinks is unwise, but he would never dare punish you for it.

He has great respect for you. You are the woman who takes care of him, the house, and the children. And if you feel like having a little fun sometimes... If you don't make him dinner, or you oppose him, Joel will accept it with humility. He will wait it out because he knows that in the end, you will always be a married couple full of love and mutual respect.

Javier Peña:

Javier thinks you're joking at first. You must be joking, right? These are some erotic fantasies, not the truth...

When he realizes that some men actually see their wives this way, he is disgusted.

He always respected women, even those he paid for sex. He wouldn't force any of them to do anything.

Would he be able to force you, his beloved wife, to do anything?

He knows perfectly well that he is not a saint. He has many "sins" on his conscience. How the hell would he be the one to correct your behavior? Who would give him the right to do that?

He sees spanking only as a form of short play during sex (with mutual consent).

But as a punishment? Hell no!

He would never stand up to you. He treats you as an equal... In fact, he even thinks that he is the second in the marriage. He often thinks that he doesn't deserve you. He doesn't deserve your patience and care.

And if you get angry at him if you oppose him... You're probably right.

To him, these "Christians" treat their wives like slaves. He is disgusted by them.

And as for kneeling... He's the one who will kneel in front of you and make you scream with pleasure with his mouth.

Marcus Pike:

Marcus gets angry and raises his voice saying, "What fucking nonsense?! How can these morons treat their wives like this?! Don't they even have one brain cell?!"

You're really surprised by his outburst of anger, which obviously isn't directed at you, but it's still surprising that your sweet and calm husband could get so angry.

But that's because for Marcus, marriage is sacred, but not in a religious way... You are his wife, the woman who fixed his broken heart.

You gave yourself completely to him, not because he forced you to do it... He would rather shoot himself in the head than force any woman to do anything.

You gave yourself to him because you wanted it because you found him worthy.

That's why Marcus is ready to kiss the ground you walk on.

You are his calm, warm, and safe place. Your kisses calm him down.

So Marcus can't imagine himself raising a hand against you. Punish you? Treat you like a child or someone less than him? He can't imagine how he could take away your right to decide about yourself.

He's seen a lot of horrible things in his job, but this... It's really high on his list of disgusting things.

He can't stop thinking about these men calling themselves Christians...

Only your light kisses on his face calm him down. He also kisses you sweetly, assuring you that he will never be such a husband because you are wonderful to him. You are his soulmate.

But Marcus doesn't have to tell you that, you already know it.

Agent Whiskey:

When you tell him you found some nonsense on the Internet, Whiskey expects some funny nonsense. You always find them and you always laugh together.

He didn't expect that this "nonsense" would turn out to be some fucking bullshit that made him feel sick.

He feels disgusted, irritated, and angry at these men who call themselves Christians and do something that, in his opinion, has nothing to do with Christian love.

Sure, he likes to spank you, he likes to mark your ass. He's a territorial guy, but... For God's sake, you're his Sugar, his wonderful wife. He never spanks you without your explicit permission, and of course, he doesn't do it to punish you. He doesn't treat you like his property.

Jack loves you like he thinks any decent man should love his wife. You are his queen. He will never force you to do anything. In fact, your simple "no" would be enough to immediately remind him where the boundaries are.

He wants your marriage to be full of love, comfort, mutual understanding, and trust. He hugs you protectively and says:

"I never want to treat you like this and take advantage of you. I want us to be equals, lovers, best friends, and partners. But these men practicing Christian domestic discipline do not love their wives, they want control and domination over their wives. And the Bible quotes they use are probably taken out of context just to justify their own pathetic actions.”

Then he showers you with kisses and spoils you even more than usual throughout the day. This is the only way he can get rid of the thought that men who don't know manners have the nerve to walk around the ground his Sugar walks on.

Javi G:

If you want to give Javi a mental breakdown, then go ahead... But in general, yes, you will cause him to have a mental breakdown if you tell him about it. (So think carefully about it.)

The poor puppy will take a year to recover.

At first, Javi won't understand at all what you're telling him. "Is this a script from some crazy movie? Really distasteful."

When he realizes it's true, he still won't understand it.

Obedience? Duties? Humility?

Since you became his wife, Javi's only goal is to make you enjoy life, not fulfill some marital obligations.

You, according to him, have no obligations. Unless you consider laughing as an obligation. Because that's all Javi wants: to hear you laugh.

And raise a hand to you?! Javi wouldn't even do that in erotic play. He just can't. Just the thought of him intentionally hurting you brings tears to his eyes.

Once he accidentally hit you with the door when, as usual, he was leaving the room too vigorously and you were just about to go inside. Nothing serious happened to you. He punched you in the shoulder.

When he saw your red skin, he panicked. He kissed your shoulder and apologized over and over again. He felt like a husband abusing his wife. He even begged you not to divorce him.

It was downright funny for you. How could you divorce him for such a reason?

You calmly assured him that you were fine. But he still insisted on calling a doctor, who, of course, said there was nothing wrong with you and recommended applying a cold compress.

Javi, of course, obediently followed the doctor's orders.

And in the evening he would cuddle you on the couch while watching "Paddington 2" with you. But for the first time, while he watching this movie, he wasn't paying attention to the screen. Instead, he would glance at you, at your shoulder, and every now and then he would place a sweet, gentle kiss on your shoulder.

Oberyn:

Oberyn is shocked and disgusted when you tell him about the existence of a new sect in Westeros that practices domestic discipline.

Dorne is a land of great respect for women. In Dorne, from the very beginning, the oldest child sits on the throne, regardless of gender. Subjects respect princesses as much as they respect princes. According to the Dornish people, the dick between the legs doesn't matter when it comes to ruling.

Dorne is also the land of love. Even children here rarely get spanked. Most of the time, their parents let them run happily in the Dornish sun and splash in the fountains.

That's why what you say is a shock to him.

Would he treat you, his wife, this way? You are his Queen.

Yes, he is the Prince of Dorne, head of House Martell, but he has nothing against your desire to rule or dominate. And he's not going to correct your behavior. That's not what he is for.

Besides, why would he waste his time on something so nonsensical when he can spend his time making love to you?

Oberyn believes that he is created to satisfy your desires. To carry you in his arms and be your shield and spear if necessary.

He doesn't have to force you to do anything either. He is persuasive enough for you to always agree with him. What if you didn't agree?

He will respect that. He is a man of honor and will tell you:

“This is what the love of my life deserves… Always being there for her, always supporting her, always protecting her… My love… I can't always be in charge… I'm glad you feel comfortable enough around me to express your thoughts out loud. Because we are not just husband and wife. We are also friends and equal partners united by love.”

[losjavis]

oof 💟