#He was colombian and his work was
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Small correction:
Noé León was born in 1907, and he painted this in 1967, ^^
still thinking about "decolonising" missionary work.
the way you decolonise missionary work is by not doing missionary work
the way you decolonise missionaries is like this:
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like snow on the beach
pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader
word count: ~2.8k
summary: You're on a work trip with your boss, who you don't like and who you're convinced doesn't like you either. Unfortunately, there's only one bed.
tags/warnings: only one bed trope (ayyyy), fluff, idiots in love, alternating povs, reader has hair that drips down her neck after showering at one point but there are no texture or color descriptors, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, my nonexistent knowledge of colombian geography which i'm asking you to ignore for the sake of this silly story THANK YOU
a/n: my entry for the summer lovin' challenge brought to us by queens @pedgito, @chaotic-mystery and @amanitacowboy <3 i got the moodboard you see in the header and the location by the water. i'm also posting a little early but i'm too excited and it's almost midnight here so i think it's gonna be fine hehe
biggest love to @sizzlingcloudmentality who held my hand through writing this and patiently listened to all my complaints lol. i love drinking more caffeine than pedro and writing with you while getting distracted by cats <3
dividers by @plum98!
find my full masterlist here and follow @guiltyasdavenotifs to get notified when i post a new fic :)
You’re hot, too hot.
It’s disorienting, as you blink awake, slow to get your bearings. Arms are wrapped around you, caging you in, engulfing you in the warmth of the body pressed against your back. Hot air is fanning against your neck, accompanied by a scratching sensation on the sensitive skin.
Your surroundings are unfamiliar, faded wallpaper in an unappealing shade of green and light filtering in through the battered up blinds. It comes back to you in pieces, the motel you’re staying at, the small Colombian town where you’re hoping to get a hold of one of the Cali cartel men.
The obnoxious scent of Peña’s aftershave is flooding your nostrils, paired with the traces of tobacco that follow him everywhere he goes. It’s honestly embarrassing, how easily you recognize it.
It clicks into place now. The arms around you, the warmth. The scratch that you now realize is his mustache as he’s breathing against your neck.
You start wriggling around, causing the man behind you to stir, a confused groan coming out slightly muffled, his mouth still so close to your skin. He lets go of you after a second, allowing you to turn around and glare at him.
His face is already forming his signature annoyed scowl, an expression that you’re more than well acquainted with.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
He sounds different like this, voice still thick with sleep, a hint of the disorientation that you’ve shaken off by now.
“What am I doing? I woke up with your arms around me, Peña.”
He blinks, shifting to sit up and lean against the headboard. You mirror him, putting as much space between you as the rather small bed frame allows.
“Sorry,” he allows after a beat, running a hand through his hair, tousling the mess of black strands that has formed in his sleep. “That wasn’t… appropriate. I apologize.”
If you weren’t as annoyed right now, you’d probably think that he looks adorable like this. The you from a few months ago would most likely go wild at seeing Javier Peña right after waking up, after he held you in his arms no less.
The you from a few months ago hadn’t experienced what an asshole of a boss he could be yet, hadn’t been taken off investigations again and again, because Peña thought you weren’t ready. She also hadn’t heard about his terrible reputation with women, hadn’t been subjected to all the office gossip that surrounded him yet.
Now, after days of practically begging him to take you along on this trip because the whole investigation was based on information that you had gathered, you’re stuck in this motel room with him. Something about your booking of two single rooms accidentally having been processed as one double room, with no other rooms available because of course there weren’t.
Peña had offered to sleep on the ground, or in the car, but you had waved him off, thinking about how often he had complained how his back was getting worse the older he got on the drive here. You hadn’t expected to wake up to him all but wrapped around you.
Maybe a small, very small part of you is still going wild about it. A part that you can easily swallow down though. He’s objectively attractive, yes. Doesn’t change the fact that he’s an asshole.
“Just forget it,” you mumble, heat rising belatedly in your cheeks. Gathering your clothes for the day, you flee to the bathroom, eager to wash the whole decidedly weird situation off your body and out of your mind. You’re here because you have a job to do, not to get flustered around your boss.
When you reemerge, wet strands of your hair dripping down your neck, he’s already dressed, clasping his hands in a way that almost seems nervous. If you weren’t pretty convinced that Javier Peña isn’t physically able to get nervous.
“I– I’m really sorry,” he repeats, raising from the worn down arm chair he’s been sitting in. “I didn’t mean to put you in an uncomfortable position. I’m not– I’m not exactly used to sharing a bed.”
A scoff leaves you at that. Sure, Agent Peña, who’s notorious for sleeping with his informants and with at least half of the female staff of the American embassy, isn’t used to sharing his bed.
“Don’t worry about it, Peña.”
You turn away before he can reply, collecting your notes on the investigation that you hope will come in helpful eventually. You don’t catch the remorseful look in his eyes, or the way they linger on you as you open the door, the early morning light illuminating your figure.
It’s another day filled with nothing but waiting and growing frustration, just like the one before. The sun is beating down on the car that you’re occupying, the heat suffocating even with the windows rolled down and the cool bottle of water that you’re pressing against your neck.
Minutes tick by, turning into hours that go by too quickly and seem to last forever at the same time. Peña is surprisingly quiet, not goading you in the way you had expected him to.
“Maybe the information was bad,” you mumble eventually, sinking deeper into the car seat. The leather is sticking uncomfortably to your skin and you can’t shake the growing feeling that you’ve insisted on coming out here for nothing.
He slowly turns his head in your direction, regarding you through the dark tint of his aviators.
“I looked at it. We wouldn’t be here if it was bad.”
You huff, your patience running short and shorter at the subtle indication of his superiority, his quiet arrogance, always so fucking sure of himself.
“You weren’t exactly thrilled about coming here, remember?”
He raises a brow, a hint of impatience on his own features.
“I wasn’t thrilled about you coming here.”
You roll your eyes, openly scowling at him now.
“It’s my intel.”
“Doesn’t make it less dangerous, does it?”
Biting your lip, you force your blood to not boil over. He’s still your boss, at the end of the day, someone you probably shouldn’t start cussing out, no matter how openly he underestimates you and how badly it annoys you. And you’re gonna have to share that wretched bed with him again tonight.
Javier watches your face, watches you swallow down your anger, watches your teeth digging into your plush bottom lip. He understands your frustration, understands that no part of this trip is turning out the way you expected it to.
You’re still new to the workfield, not yet experienced with the hours upon hours of waiting, more often than not without a satisfying result to show for it. If he’s being honest with himself, he isn’t mad about it this time. He’ll rather have you frustrated than in danger.
You want to prove yourself, you’ve made that abundantly clear. You work hard, determined to bring in results, hungry for praise. It’s not that he doesn’t see that, doesn’t think that you’re capable. But he’s seen enough, enough injuries, enough psychological trauma, enough deaths, to know that he wants you far away from that side of your work.
Even if that means you’re angry at him more often than not, a glint of bitterness in your eyes every time he refuses to send you out yet again.
After another few hours, accompanied by the increasing rumbling in both your stomachs, he finally calls it quits for the day.
“We can drive back to Bogotá tomorrow,” he quietly offers on the way back to the motel, after picking up food for the both of you and refusing to let you pay for your share. “Gather more information, see why we didn’t find anything.”
You huff in return, irritated about the whole situation. The one chance you had to convince him to take you seriously, and this is what you get. “Fine,” you agree, gritting your teeth. Maybe your intel was bad. Maybe you just aren’t that good at your job.
“Keep to your side of the bed tonight,” you grumble later, after the bored woman at the reception told you that there still aren't any other rooms available.
“Of course,” he sighs, sliding under the covers with the biggest possible distance from you.
You nod, closing your eyes and willing for sleep to take you, but it’s a losing game. You toss and turn, feeling both too hot and too cold at the same time, unable to find a comfortable position and to get the voices in your head to shut up.
When you roll over yet again, his voice rings through the dark, somewhat agitatedly asking what’s wrong.
“Nothing,” comes your frustrated reply, pressing your face deeper into the cushion, your eyes squeezed shut. After a few more breaths and zero sign of your brain slowing down, you turn towards him, only able to make out his silhouette in the dark. Your judgment is probably hazy with how tired you are, but the words are out of your mouth before you can think them over.
“Can I ask you a question, Agent Peña?”
“Javier is fine.”
Your heart gives a tiny flutter, despite your conflicted feelings about him, despite the question that you’re about to ask.
“Why do you not like me?”
It’s inappropriate, especially right now, lying in the dark and sharing a fucking bed with him. But you think that if you don’t ask now, you probably never will, and you need to know.
“Why would you think that I don’t like you?”
You huff, squinting at him. “It’s pretty obvious. You don’t trust my work, you never send me to go out, dismiss my intel most of the time–”
It’s silent for a long time, safe for his quiet breaths.
“That’s not–” He sighs deeply, turning his head towards you as well. “That’s not true. You’re making it about yourself when you shouldn’t. I treat you exactly like your colleagues, you’re the one taking it personal.”
It’s curt, dismissive. Laced with carefully feigned indifference, bordering on coldness. Too carefully. You didn’t think he’d lie to you if you asked him this directly, but here you are.
Blinking back angry tears, you roll onto your back again, unseeingly staring at the ceiling. You don’t understand why it hits you like this. You’ve had shitty bosses before, far worse than Peña. You’ve just never wanted them to like you the way you want him to.
“Good night, Agent Peña.” You turn onto your other side, your back towards him.
“Good night,” comes his solemn reply.
You don’t wake up with his arms around you again, thankfully, but he hasn’t exactly kept to his side of the bed either. One hand is curled over your shoulder, like he had to reach out and hold onto you in his sleep.
You’re the one taking it personal.
Clearly he hasn’t been reaching for you specifically. It’s probably just second nature for him, something that usually goes well with the women sharing his bed.
You’re able to shake his hold off without waking him up, something that you’re grateful for.
When he wakes and repeats how he thinks you should abandon the investigation, you don’t argue. It’s a quiet affair, packing up and getting ready to leave.
Sitting in the driver’s seat, he turns to you, his brow furrowed into that moody expression you’ve gotten used to. “I’ve been thinking,” he begins, eyeing you warily. “We’re not far from the ocean right now. Have you been to the beach since you came to Colombia?”
You raise an eyebrow in mild suspicion, curious where he’s going with this.
“I haven’t been out of Bogotá since I landed there. But–”
His eyes grow softer, his hand twitching like he almost reached out towards you.
“No buts. At least then it won’t have been a total waste of time to come here, right?”
The dig towards you, towards the reason you drove all the way out here for nothing isn’t lost on you. You don’t have it in you to argue against it, so you just nod, staring straight ahead.
Javier realizes how badly you misunderstood his words as soon as they’re out of his mouth and he sees your face. He doesn’t know how he consistently manages to fuck up his interactions with you like this. It’s not him, the blundering, the words constantly coming out all wrong, but you make him nervous in a way that he hasn’t experienced in years.
He starts driving, hopeful to somehow still be able to turn this trip around. There’s a whole day on the road ahead of them, and he’d much rather spend those hours without feeling like he’s made you hate him.
You do soften at the sight of the ocean, the sound of waves rolling against the shore having a soothing effect almost instantly. It’s beautiful, the water a brilliant blue, the sun glittering on the surface. You can’t be mad right now, not even at Javier, who’s keeping his distance, letting you wander along the shore by yourself.
You focus on taking in the scenery, hoping to somehow take it with you to when you’re back in your bleak, government issued apartment, staring at the vastness of gray buildings that is of Bogotá.
When you turn back to him, his eyes are already on you, less tense, more open than you’re used to. You don’t know how long they’ve been lingering on you, how little attention he had been paying to the nature surrounding you. How good it had felt, to see you like this, without the usual distaste in your face that you have come to regard him with most of the time. The silhouette of you against the bright sky, your skin glowing under the beaming sun.
“Thank you,” you say, actually smiling at him. A spark of warmth grows in his chest. “This was a good idea, I– I enjoyed it.”
“I’m glad.” He eagerly returns the smile, allows himself to reach out and graze one finger against the soft skin of your hand. Finding himself unable to stop touching you, now that he’s had a taste of it.
Confusion crosses your face before you quickly avert your eyes, but you don’t pull away. It gives him a sliver of hope, that maybe you’re starting to understand what he doesn’t know how to tell you.
After a mostly quiet drive back, both of you too exhausted to talk much, Javier drops you off at your apartment, his hand once again hovering over yours before you get out.
“Good night,” he breathes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. After a moment of hesitation, he continues on. “You– you’re doing good work. Don’t beat yourself up over this, okay?”
You manage a nod, murmuring thank you, Javier before opening the car door and stepping out onto your street, illuminated by the glow of yellow lights. You only realize that you used his first name by the time that your apartment door falls shut behind you. It doesn’t bother you as much as you thought it would.
Breathing in the familiar scent of your own place, a deep relief washes over you, reveling in the knowledge that you’re gonna sleep in your own bed tonight, alone. You turn on your shower, eager to let the warm water soothe your muscles, stiff from spending the entire day in a car.
When you exit the bathroom, wrapped into a towel and with a cloud of steam accompanying you, your answering machine is blinking. You press the button to let the message play, moving through your apartment to put on your comfiest sleepwear and ready to fall straight into bed.
You stop in your tracks when Javier’s voice rings through the room, tripping over the words in a way that’s difficult to associate with the calm, self-assured man that you know.
“Hey, it’s Javier. You– you’re probably showering, or already asleep. I just– I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings these past days, or– or any day, really. I wanted you to know that. You’re good at what you do, you really are, but– I worry about you, I guess. And I know that I shouldn’t, that I shouldn’t treat you differently. It’s– it’s not because I don’t like you. I like you too much, if anything, and– and now I know what it’s like to sleep next to you, and– anyway, I’m– shit, I’m making a fool of myself. Just– just call me back. Please.”
Your hand finds your phone as soon as the recording ends.
thank you for reading! as always, reblogs, comments and asks are love and absolutely make my day <3
#SummerLovin24#javier peña#javier pena x reader#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena x you#javier pena narcos#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x female reader#janas fics
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imagine moving into your new apartment and finding out that javier peña is your next door neighbour 🤭
tags: f!reader, friends to lovers i think, sprinkle of angst, mutual pining, alcohol consumption, throwing up/vomiting mentioned (if you're squeamish to that kind of thing), javi being javi, untranslated spanish, smut, p in v sex, overstimulation, there are feelings involved, unbeta'd, no use of y/n, if i missed any other tags pls let me know ok thx.
~ 4.2k w/c - gif found on pinterest - masterlist
a/n: i just want javier peña to look at me... is that too much to ask for?! this is tropey asf and not what i was initially thinking of writing when i got this ask—but i like how this lil one shot turned out. i hope you do too, bestie! 🖤
You’re in the middle of unpacking boxes in your new apartment, surrounded by a mess of your own doing, when a sharp knock on the door startles you. You weren’t expecting anyone.
Wiping your hands on your jeans, you head to the door and swing it open to reveal a striking woman. Auburn hair, sharp eyes—she’s undeniably beautiful, but her expression is less than friendly.
Her eyes narrow as she sizes you up. “¿Y tu quien putas eres?” she demands.
Before you can get a word out, she’s already pushing past you into your apartment, not waiting for an invitation. “¿Donde esta Javier? Malparido tramposo. ¡No te escondas de mí!” she continues, storming through your space like she owns it.
You stand there, dumbfounded at the absurdity, watching her move, her fury palpable. Your Spanish is still novice, at best, so you don’t really understand what she’s saying.
“Uh, I think you have the wrong—” you start, but she cuts you off again.
“Wrong, my ass.” She replies, her Colombian accent thick. “I know he lives here. All the Americans do—”
Your brain finally catches up and puts two and two together. She’s looking for Javier Peña. Your colleague and now, apparently, neighbor.
You’ve been quietly, hopelessly crushing on the agent since you started working at the embassy. And now you’re standing in the middle of your half-unpacked apartment while some furious woman is ranting about him.
You’re about to speak again when, as if summoned by the chaos, Javier himself strolls past your open door in the hallway. The woman halts, her eyes following him like a predator tracking its prey.
You see her face shift from righteous fury to utter confusion. It hits her finally—she’s in the wrong apartment, like you tried to tell her.
She mutters something you can’t understand, barely meeting your eyes before storming out, slamming the door behind her.
You stand there, blinking, still processing what just happened. If that was any indication on how things around here will go, at least you know you won’t be bored.
It’s later in the evening when there’s another knock at the door. You’re almost hesitant to answer, unsure if you’ll be met by another beautiful woman scorned, so this time you make sure to look through the peephole before blindly opening it.
It’s Javier.
You glance down at your clothes, suddenly self-conscious. You’re not exactly at your best, sweaty and disheveled from moving all day. Definitely not how you pictured running into him outside of work.
You take a deep breath, trying to pull yourself together, then open the door, “Hey.” You greet him, a little shy.
He leans casually against your doorframe, that signature smirk playing on his lips. “Sorry about earlier,” his deep voice sends a shiver down your spine. “Not the best way to be welcomed into the neighborhood.”
He glances past you, noticing the half-unpacked boxes scattered around your apartment, and you’re mortified for a second, wondering how messy everything must look through his eyes.
You laugh, though it’s a little shaky. “I, uh… didn’t know you lived next door.”
Javier grins, giving you a devastatingly handsome smile that you’ve only seen when he tries to bribe his way through some of the other girls at the office. “Yeah, been here since I moved to Bogotá,” his eyes linger on you, but you don’t notice with how you’re focused on not making a fool out of yourself.
“Well I hope you and your… friend worked things out.”
He exhales through his nose in an amused laugh. “Somethin’ like that,” he says, sounding almost entertained by the whole thing. “I owe you for that inconvenience.”
Your heart stutters and you hope, no—pray, that your eyes haven’t morphed into hearts with the charming way he’s looking at you.
“It’s fine, really—“
“No, no. I insist. It was rude. The least I can do is make it up to you.”
Knowing he wasn’t going to back down, a stubborn man through and through, you give him a slight nod, trying to play it cool even though your nerves are buzzing. “Okay… sure, fine. You owe me.”
His smirk softens into a half-smile, a little less cocky. He pushes himself off your doorframe, straightening up. “Alright, cariño. I’ll see you around.” The word rolls off his tongue as if he’s said it a thousand times to you, but it lands right between your legs, sending warmth to your cheeks.
“Have a good night,” he adds with that enamoring gravelly voice of his.
You manage to mumble a goodbye, watching as he walks down the hall, his presence making the air feel electric. You’re left standing there, alone with the heavy realization that your harmless work crush just became a lot more dangerous.
Living next door to him is going to be torture.
Months go by, and torture would be an understatement.
You’ve developed an odd, friendly relationship with him. It’s not exactly what you imagined when you first laid eyes on him at the embassy, all brooding intensity and effortless charm, but it works.
You exchange casual greetings in the hallway, little snippets of small talk when you bump into each other at work.
It’s... normal. Comfortable, in its own way. But every time he says your name, with that gravelly edge to his voice, something flutters in your chest.
He’s even taken it upon himself to help you with your Spanish, which is as endearing as it is embarrassing. On the days when you can steal a few moments to talk, he’ll have you practicing phrases, repeating them until he’s satisfied with your pronunciation. Sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly amused, he’ll leave a sticky note on your door with a new phrase scribbled on it for you to learn.
It’s become part of your routine. Him giving you little bits of language, you trying to impress him with how quickly you can pick it up. You tell yourself it’s just a… fun thing, nothing more.
Then there are the nights when you’ve made too much dinner. You know that man doesn’t eat. Not properly, anyway. So you bring over a plate, standing awkwardly at his door until he opens it, shirt half-buttoned and hair tousled, like he just rolled out of bed.
“Brought you something,” you say, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickens as his eyes flicker to yours, a mix of surprise and amusement.
“Thanks, cariño,” he takes the food from you with that half-smile that makes you feel like a damn schoolgirl.
But it’s not always like that. There are times when he’s away for days at a time. Out doing who knows what—your level of work doesn’t intersect with his at all.
His return comes with whispers around the office or in the form of news broadcasts that seem to be reporting nothing but atrocities as of late.
In the dead of night, you’ll hear the sound of his boots echoing through the enclosed hallway, a sure sign he’s finally back. You wonder what he’s seen, what he’s done while he was gone. The thought keeps you restless sometimes, but you never ask. He doesn’t offer, either.
And then there are the women.
You hear them through the thin walls—his low voice, their laughter, the unmistakable sounds of them fucking. The rhythm of their pleasure reverberates through your apartment, impossible to ignore.
Every time it happens, you’re reminded of the rumors you’ve heard around the office. The whispers about Javier Peña, about how good he is in bed, about how women fall over themselves to spend a night with him. Now, you know firsthand that they’re true.
It stings more than you’d like to admit, considering how you feel about him but knowing that he doesn’t see you as anything but a friend.
You’ve caught glimpses of him after his flings, too. You kind of wish you could wipe from your memory, if only to keep your sanity.
It’s during different times of the day, really, when he’s leaning casually against his doorframe like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He’s shirtless, skin still damp from a shower or maybe from the sweat he’s worked up, and his jeans hang sinfully low on his hips. The soft light from the hallway casts shadows over his golden chest, highlighting the faint beauty marks that map his body.
You do your best to keep your eyes averted, pretending you’re not affected, pretending you don’t notice the way his muscles flex as he stretches, or how his dark hair is tousled in that perfectly messy way. But your throat tightens every time, your stomach flipping at how effortlessly good he looks. It’s not fair how someone can make post-coital exhaustion look so damn attractive.
He’s usually saying goodbye to one of the lucky girls, tossing a wink their way, or brushing his fingers through their hair as they share a final kiss.
You tell yourself it’s just Javier being Javier, but it’s impossible to ignore the way jealousy twists in your chest when you see them, all blissed-out and satisfied, practically floating down the hallway after a night with him.
You turn your head, pretend you didn’t just catch a glimpse of him looking like some kind of god, and hurriedly unlock your door before he notices you staring.
And sometimes, when you least expect it, he catches you.
You’re fumbling with your keys, doing your best to mind your own business, when his voice cuts through the silence. “Hey,” he calls out, casual as ever, and you freeze. Your hand stills on the doorknob, and you force yourself to look up.
Javier is standing there, half naked, leaning against his door as if he has all the time in the world.
You try to swallow the lump in your throat, “Hey.”
“You alright there, cariño?” he asks, voice low and rough, like he’s barely holding back a laugh after watching you struggle with your keys.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just had a long day.”
He hums, his stare lingering on you, and your heart pounds in a way you can’t quite control. But then, as if nothing’s changed, he shifts back into that familiar, teasing grin.
“Okay, don’t work too hard. Can’t have you burnin’ out before me.”
It all comes to a head one night at the bar near your place. You’re out with a secretary from a different department, downing margaritas like they’re water. You’re tipsy—no, you’re drunk, and the world is spinning just a little too fast.
That’s when you see him. He walks in like he owns the place, scanning the crowded space until his eyes land on you. He acknowledges you with a jut of his chin and you smile drunkenly at him, waving, before you’re brought back to the conversation with your friend.
He’s here for work, meeting one of his informants—a very pretty, very obvious, working girl. You hate how seeing him with her swirls the green in your drunken heart.
Maybe it’s the tequila talking, maybe it’s the months of pent-up frustration, but when Javier approaches as your coworker excuses herself to the bathroom, checking to see if you’re alright, your mouth runs faster than your brain.
“Don’t worry about me,” you slur, waving him off. “I’m sure you’d have more fun with her,” you add, nodding toward the woman with a sharp, sarcastic edge. “Probably more your type anyway.”
Javier raises an eyebrow, his expression shifting into a playful uncertainty, head tilting slightly. “What?”
You don’t know how to respond. Honestly, you’re not even sure you can form a coherent thought right now. All you know is that you’re in way over your head, and he is standing way too close.
But that liquid courage surges through your veins and the words are tumbling out of your mouth.
“It’s obvious, Javier,” your frustration is crystal clear, despite the way your words run into each other. “The kind of company you keep. They’re more fun,” You gesture vaguely toward his booth. “I’m just… here. A bore that’s drunk on a Wednesday night. It’s why you came to check on me. Why you’ve been overly nice.” Your words sting, even as they leave your lips.
The alcohol amplifies every insecurity you’ve kept buried.
The playful look on his face vanishes, replaced by hardened disbelief. His brows furrow, and for a moment, he just stares at you, like he’s trying to figure out how you could possibly think so little of yourself.
Instead of giving you an answer, he just reaches for his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. “Come on,” he mutters, “I’m taking you home.”
You snort, shaking your head, another wave of dizziness washing over you. “See? Taking pity on me. Again.”
He rolls his eyes, unfazed by your drunken resistance. “That’s not what this is,” he pulls out a wad of cash and drops it on the bar top to settle your tab.
He makes sure your friend is taken care of, telling the bartender to call a cab for her. Then he goes to dismiss his informant—a woman he definitely had plans to sleep with. She seems surprised, but Javier brushes her off and hands her some money.
Your drunken mind can’t quite comprehend that he’s choosing to deal with you instead. As he guides you outside, you make it difficult, stumbling and resisting as he tries to steer you toward his car.
“I can walk, Peña,” you grumble, though your legs aren’t exactly cooperating.
“Sure you can,” he says dryly, his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you upright. “You’re making this real easy.” He comments sarcastically.
You’re so going to regret this tomorrow when you’re fighting a hangover at your desk, thinking of how you just fucked up this friendship.
But right now, you can’t focus on anything but how warm his large hand feels against your side as he helps you into the passenger seat.
Your head lolls against the window, and you groan softly. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. You could’ve stayed with her.”
Javier slides into the driver’s seat, glancing at you as he starts the engine. “Everything you said back there was bullshit,” he says bluntly, pulling out of the parking lot. “You think I pity you? That I only talk to you because I feel bad? You really don’t know me at all.”
His words are cutting, but not in a cruel way. He sounds… disappointed. “I like spending time with you,” he continues, quieter now, more serious. “It’s not some charity case. You make me feel normal. When I’m with you, it’s like the rest of the shit I deal with doesn’t exist.” The faint hum of the radio fills the sudden silence.
“You… you’ve got this smile that makes me feel a little better about myself.”
The sincerity in his voice sobers you up just a little, enough for your foggy brain to process what he’s saying. You turn to look at him, eyes wide, but before you can fully grasp it, your stomach lurches.
“Oh no,” you groan, clutching your middle. “I’m gonna be sick.”
He glances at you, and in an instant, he’s speeding up, making it to your complex faster than you would’ve thought possible. He parks hastily, helps you out, and practically carries you to your apartment. The second the door swings open, you make a beeline for the bathroom, barely making it in time to empty your stomach into the toilet.
You hear him lingering by the door, then the sound of running water as he fills a glass in the kitchen. You hate that he’s seeing you like this—pathetic, drunk, and embarrassed.
When you finally sit back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, Javier is there, handing you the glass of water. His expression is soft, more concerned than anything.
“Drink,” he orders gently, crouching next to you. His voice is soothing, and for a moment, the embarrassment fades under the warmth of his presence.
You sip the water, avoiding his gaze, but he’s not letting this go. “You okay?”
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.
He sighs, settling beside you on the bathroom floor. “You’re not a bore. Don’t say that shit.” His voice is firm, but there’s an undercurrent tenderness beneath it.
Your head is swimming—not just from the alcohol, but from everything that’s happened in the last hour.
You lean your head back against the wall, the glass of water in your hand almost empty. With a soft sigh, you begin to speak, your tone hesitant.
“Sometimes… I just feel average, you know?” you admit, glancing at Javier from the corner of your eye. He’s sitting quietly beside you, his long legs stretched out in front of him, gaze focused on some point on the floor. “Like there’s nothing more to me than this mediocre job, answering phones, filing papers. I mean, I didn’t move all the way to South America just for that.”
You pause, trying to organize your thoughts. “That’s why I transferred here. I thought maybe… maybe I’d find something more. Maybe I’d find me.” You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “But ever since I got here, it’s been nothing but monotony and homesickness. I don’t even know if this is where I’m meant to be.”
The words hang between you. You’ve never said this out loud to anyone, never let yourself be so transparent.
Javier doesn’t say anything right away, and it makes you think that maybe you’ve said too much. But then, you hear him sigh softly, his shoulders slumping as if your rambling has hit something deep within him.
He’s silent as he digests your confession, and you’re about to apologize for oversharing when he finally speaks.
“I get it,” he replies, low and rough around the edges. He shifts beside you, resting his arms on his now bent knees while he stares at the floor. “You’re not the only one feeling that way.”
You blink, slightly taken aback by his agreement. You hadn’t expected him to relate—the sharp, confident DEA agent who always seems so sure of himself. He glances at you, offering a wry smile. “You’re not average,” his voice is firmer now, like he’s trying to make you believe it. “It takes time to figure out who you are, what you want. And if it feels like you haven’t found that yet, that doesn’t make you less than.”
There’s an irony in his words, and he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “I should probably take my own advice,” he admits.
Your heart flutters at his reassurance, but you can see it in his eyes—there’s more. Something heavier sits in his chest, pulling him down.
“What about you? What’s weighing on you?”
Javier sighs again, leaning his head back against the wall like you. “This job,” he says simply, but you can hear the exhaustion in his voice. “It’s… confusing. Difficult. Half the time, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing anymore. I thought I’d come here, do some good, but it’s just…” He trails off, his jaw tightening. “I’ve lost myself in all of it. The work. The women. Because I don’t know what else to do.”
Your chest tightens as he speaks, hearing the vulnerability in his words. He’s always seemed so unshakeable, but now you can see the cracks in his armor, all that he’s been carrying. And then he turns to look at you, his expression softening.
“But you,” he says quietly, “you’re the one thing that keeps me grounded in all this shit.”
You look down, not believing that he’s actually saying this to you. You have to be dreaming.
“Your smile, the way your eyes light up when you’re happy. Shit, even the way you butcher half your Spanish words with that accent of yours.” He chuckles, and despite the heaviness of the moment, you can’t help but laugh with him.
The tension breaks for just a second, and when you finally meet his gaze again, your breath snags. He’s already staring at you, his beautiful brown eyes gleaming.
You quickly look away out of habit, your heart hammering in your chest, but then he calls your name softly. “Mírame, cariño,” he says, all gentle and insistent.
You swallow hard, forcing yourself to do so.
“I’m not just telling you this to score. I mean it.”
And you don’t doubt it for a second. However, the moment is too heavy, too intense for your tequila-soaked brain to handle. You can taste the lingering bitterness of the alcohol, your throat feels raw, and your head is already starting to pound. You’re too disoriented to fully process this moment that’s happening.
“I know,” you nod, picking at your cuticles, “I just don’t think right now is the best time to have this conversation.” Your words are punctuated by a hiccup and you bring your hand up to cover your mouth in fear of accidentally throwing up again.
Javier’s lips twitch with amusement, but he works his jaw, nodding in agreement. “You’re right. Not the best time,” he concedes, though the way he says it tells you he wanted this conversation to happen—needed it to.
“I just had to tell you. And if you genuinely feel like you don’t belong here then go home.” He tells you softly, though his cadence and the softening expression on his face say otherwise.
You glance at him, your lips curving into a weak smile. “While I do feel lost, I think half of all this is the margaritas’ doing,” you admit, your voice a little hoarse.
“Tequila’s dangerous like that,” he agrees with a small laugh, shaking his head.
You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to push through the embarrassment still swirling around inside of you. “I’m sorry about what happened at the bar,” you say quietly. “I didn’t mean to be so self deprecating.”
He waves off your apology, his expression relaxed. “It’s no problem.”
“Thank you for bringing me home, and for… opening up like that… I know it wasn’t easy.” Your voice softens as you say it.
He gives you a small smile, but his eyes linger on you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “You make it easy,” he says finally, the words leaving his mouth like a confession.
You sit there on the cool bathroom floor, your heart stumbling all over the place. Leaving isn’t an option anymore. Not when Javier Peña looks at you like this. Not after realizing that you mean so much more to him than you could have ever thought possible.
Javier hovers above you, his gaze locked with yours, filled with desire and adoration. Your legs are tightly wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, deeper, feeling every inch of him as his hips move suavely while he fucks you.
His breath is hot against your neck, biting and licking at your skin. You can barely keep your thoughts straight, your mind clouded with the pleasure he’s stirring in you, the rhythm of his body guiding you to that edge again and again.
He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, his voice a low growl, “You feel so good, baby. I can feel how close you are... all for me.”
Your body clenches around him in response, a soft whimper escaping your lips as the pleasure tightens inside you, building and building. It’s the fifth time tonight he’s coaxed this out of you, and you don’t know how you’re still holding on.
His weight presses against you and your nails dig into the broad expanse of his broad shoulders, pulling him impossibly close. His chest, warm and slick with sweat, crushes against yours, and the hairs at the base of his cock graze your swollen clit with every thrust, sending shockwaves through you.
You gasp, your voice trembling with each word. “Javier... I can’t... it’s too much.”
But he doesn’t stop, doesn’t relent, instead he grins down at you, a wicked spark in his eyes, pressing his lips against your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth—kissing you everywhere he can reach while his other hand keeps your jaw locked in place, fingers denting into your skin.
His lips finally find yours in a messy, urgent kiss, swallowing your moans as your body tightens around him again. You’re lost in what he’s giving you, your world spinning as your orgasm tears through you, leaving you a trembling mess beneath him.
His hips stutter as he groans your name, his cock twitching inside you while he comes. He stays there, still buried inside, his body heavy and comforting as the world fades back into focus.
When he finally pulls away, his touch softens. He’s gentle as he plants tender kisses on your forehead, your nose, your lips. His hand caresses your naked side, soothing you as your breathing slows. He shifts then, pulling you close into the safety of his arms, his body wrapped around yours.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart. Just relax.”
He stays with you, his hand tracing lazy circles on your back, murmuring soft reassurances until you’re completely at ease, your body melting into his.
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Arcane Characters with a Puerto Rican Fem S/O
Jayce, Viktor, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, Ekko, Sevika, Vander (nsfw)
Jayce
I like the idea that he is also Latino/Hispanic
Maybe Brazilian or Colombian
My sexy Latin Papí
In Piltover there isn’t really a big Latin community, so when he heard that you were Puerto Rican he befriended you reallllll fast
You studied botany and tech ecology, while he engineering
You wanted to save your islands flora and fauna by incorporating advanced tech, while he wanted to improve lives with magic 
You believed his dream since the beginning, even if you looked at him sometimes like he was crazy
“You have no idea what these crystals are capable of! What if we combine those aqueducts you designed for plant growth with runes? We can triple food production by 110%!” Jayce wrote equations on the board, mind going miles per second
“You think it can regrow completely deforested areas in less than 40 years?” You humored him.
“What if we can do it in less than 10?! The possibilities are endless! I promise that when I crack this, I will paint the whole world green for you.” Did he know how to warm your heart…
Jayce is a super touchy person and always has to have skin to skin contact like a new born
You get mistaken for a couple a lot before you even officially started dating
Always kisses you on the cheek when you greet each other. A very Latino thing!
Piltover’s greetings are very cold, only handshakes and shoulder pats. So he was ecstatic to finally have someone to do it with outside his family
Viktor became a victim of your kisses. But he secretly enjoys it
Jayce always smells good! Ximena taught him good hygiene since he was little. Whenever he feels a light sweat coming on he immediately hits the showers
Has a gold chain! Never takes it off. It was originally his father’s.
Doesn’t speak very good Spanish, but you teach him in between Hextech protects and meetings
You guys talk endlessly about your backgrounds and even bring treats to each other
“Mmm— oh, fuck!” He moaned shoving another spoon full of food into his mouth. Eyes rolling to the back of his head
“Jayce it really isn’t that good.” You were blushing like crazy, completely forgetting the plate in front of you. You just wanted to do something nice for him
“What are you taking about?! It’s the best thing I’ve had in weeks!”
He had been working his ass off building the new Hextech towers and surviving on sandwiches for the past month
“I also brought dessert, if you are interested…”
Jayce looked at you with puppy dog eyes. Absolutely enamored. Cheeks full like a chipmunk
“I. Love. You. Soooo. Much.” Jayce said grabbing your face and kissing you all over
“Te amo, mi rey.” (I love you, my king.) You said while gently wiping the side of his lips with your thumb
Jayce can dance! And I mean really dance. Ximena put him in classes when he was little because she didn’t want him to forget his roots
Dancing with Jayce is about passion, making love on the dance floor. Bodies pressed against each other, hands running above hot pumping blood and flesh. Heavy eye contact that yells sex and pleasure
You guys have sex in the forge all the time, instead of pounding hot metal he pounds that wet pussy (hahaha!)
Watching him pull the chains of the fire pit just gets it going for you. Back sweaty from the flames and work. Tan skin so glossy like copper
From you just wanting some papers to be signed for an new upcoming project turned into you having him on the workshop table
“Just like that, mi reina (my queen ). Como me haces sentir tan bien.” (You make me feel so good.)”
Jayce was thrusting into your cunt, the wood of the desk rattleing with every give and take. Your hands on his bare ass and his bracing your sides
When Jayce found your cunt’s sweet spot, the one that made your head fall into his shoulder with your eyes rolling back; pornografic grunt on your lips, he found gold
“You like that?” He grinned, finding solace in pleasure he gave you. Amused at how his body served yours so well
“Mmmm— yeah…” You licked the sweat of his jaw, slight stubble rough against your tongue
You loved him so much. Him with his stupid little smiles and big hands. And oh those eyes that made you dream of a safer tomorrow
“Esos ojitos de miel son tan bonitos. Te quiero comer enterito, papí!” (Those honey eyes are so pretty. I want to eat you whole, love!) You were practically going feral at his grasp. Eating at his neck and chest, savoring the taste of ash on his skin
You leaned back on your elbows, breasts jumping at his thrusts. Grabbing his wrist and bringing his hand up to cup your tit. Watching his cock drill in and out of your pussy. He was close by the knit of his eyebrows. Hips becoming harsher and sloppy
Jayce teased your clit, moving his fingers in the way you liked. Loving the clench of your walls as you grained your pelvis on his dick
“Assssíííí, cabrón—”(jusssstt like that, fucker—)
You came together in a world wind of grunts and curses. You creaming on his cock. Jayce rested his body weight on you as he came undone. Easing his head from your collar bones and giving his lips a peck. You loved how disheveled he looked, all fucked out with empty watery eyes
“Want me to give you a blowjob as you sign these for me?” You said brushing the hair of his face. Thankful for the shower he had installed at your request
“I would be an idiot to say no!”
Jayce is the king of aftercare! He will always have a snack or even a little trinket to give you after sex
“Look, I made a little pendant of the PR map!” Jayce showed you the little piece of metal. White teeth glinting as he was so proud of his artistry
“Oh my God— it uhmm… It has character alright!”
It looked more like a disheveled bean but you wore it proudly everywhere! You love your man
When you start dating Jayce, Viktor became your much appreciated third wheel
You always pack extra goodies and food in Jayce’s lunch box so that he gets feed too
Getting sad when Jayce comes home with tears in his eyes because his friend doesn’t take good care in himself
You even go as far as bringing him homemade meal preps to his house so he always has a warm dinner
Jayce’s favorite dishes you make are anything meat based: Bistec encebollado (beef steak with grilled onions), pollo guisado (stewed chicken in red sauce served over white rice), and pernil (slow oven roasted pork with crispy skin)
Would never admit to his mamá that your cooking is better than hers
And his mom absolutely invites you over to cook with her
Saying that she needs to pass on her recipes to her future daughter-in-law
You like spending Christmas at the Talis residence. A big old family gathering with delicious food and music
Ximena was more than pleased knowing that Jayce got himself a Latin girl!
Get ready to pump out some big chunky babies! This man is a Latino at heart and that comes with a few kids running around
The first time you ever visited the Talis home, Ximena took out all of Jayce’s baby pictures
“Awww, look at your tushy! Plump as ever I see.”
Jayce put his head in his hands. Ears red from his naked baby photos that you were so entranced by
“Mamí, please for the love of God put them away!”
Ximena gave her wedding ring to Jayce shortly after you left. The ring was carved and made by Jayce’s late father
“Si te vas a casar con cualquier persona, Jayce, tiene que ser ella.” (If you’re going to marry someone, Jayce, it has to be her.)
You call Jayce cerebrito (little brain) and he loves calling you mi tesoro (my treasure)
Viktor
Viktor knows the struggles of making it in Piltover as an outsider, both being form the Undercity and physically disabled
And making it to the best academy in Piltover while being different was surely a merit on its own
From simple study buddies to lovers. You fell first, but he fell harder
You call him estrellita (little star) because of his many beauty marks
I’ve read that people like to headcanon him as Czech, and I like that…. I like at ALOT
Teaches your words in his language to talk shit behind Jayce’s back. And by shit I mean make fun of his failed prototypes
Viktor straight out asked you to teach him the dirties curse words PR has to offer. And oh boy, do you give him a colorful list—
Cabrón (bastard), puñeta (fuck), hijo de puta (son of a whore), me cago en tu madre (I shit on your mom), mama bicho (cock sucker) , me cago en na’ (I shit on nothing), vete pal carajo (go fuck yourself)—
One time he got pissed at Jayce for not doing an equation right that ended up with the lab half burned to the ground.
You just stood next to Viktor as you watched them bicker at each other like a married couple. Jayce cleaning up the ash of his failed work
“You should have run them by me or Sky first, Jayce! We are partners, not competitors!” Viktor threw his now burned lab coat at him, hitting Jayce in the chest
“Well you shouldn’t have been making improvements to the Hexcore without my knowledge then!” Jayce pointed at Viktor, nailing back the fallen boards with unnecessary force. Wow, grumpy Jayce never got old
“You know what, Jayce—” Viktor looked at you with a evil glint in his eyes. Oh, no… “¡Me cago en tu madre!”
Jayce gasped like an old woman seeing a half naked girl at church. Mama’s boy Talis was going out for blood today
“Don’t talk about my Mamí like that—” he pointed at Viktor, hammer in one hand ready to knock his brains out.
“Come here you fucker!” Jayce launched towards Viktor as he scrambled to the other side of the desk
“Jayce, please don’t strain him too much! I still would like him in one piece!”
You were caught in this mess trying not to laugh as Viktor ran away with a giggle from his soon to be killer
“Take it back or I’m going to take that leg brace I built off with the bone still attached!”
“Never!” Viktor yelled triumphantly
It ended with Jayce and Viktor on their ass thanks to a good back head slap on your part
Guava enthusiasts. You brought mantecaditos (short bread cookies with guava paste on top) one time to the lab and they were gone before Jayce could try them
“Seriously, Viktor you didn’t even save me one—“ Jayce was looking inside the tin box with sad puppy dog eyes. Only finding crumbs at the every bottom
“There weren’t that many in the box anyways, Jayce.” Viktor said hiding the last cookies in his desk drawer. You made over 40 cookies, but he was never going to tell Jayce that
He likes anything vinegar based and soups. Like guineitos en escabeche (boiled green bananas dressed in a vinegar sauce) and sancocho (a hearty stew with a bunch of meat and vegetables like cabbage and yams)
It’s so funny hearing him pronounce the foods he likes! Viktor is really good at rolling his r’s. His accent is just to cute!
“What did you want me to make you Viktor?” You tried to hide your laughter as you looked at a grumpy Viktor
“I told you that I want that dulce de lecussy. The one you made last week with pieces of cheese.” He huffed
“You mean dulce de LECHOSA!” (candied papaya in sweet syrup with firm cheese) You crackled with lungs on fire from laughing so hard
“And what did I say then?!” He sassed at you trying to dim his smile
“That you basically wanted dessert pussy!!”
“I would mind that either, actually.” You gave him a slap on his shoulder. The sheer perversion of this man!
“¡Fo, que puerco eres!” (Ew, you’re such a pig!)
“How dare you call me a pig—” he gasped as you ran away from his wrath
He chased you with his cane and you ran around giggling trying to escape him
Viktor definitely has put in some weight and looks so much healthier
“I’m blaming you for my favorite trousers not fitting anymore.”
Once you showing him how real Puerto Rican girls twerk you created a new type of man. You decided to surprise him with a naked lesson. Rewarding him for the success of the Hextech gates.
“And what exactly do you call this?” Viktor rasped out. One hand firmly placed on your right hip. As the other went white holding the handle off his cane. Voice heavy with the heat of pleasure
“Perreo” you looked back at Viktor, watching him savor the ripples of your skin as you shook your body to the lyrics of Ivy Queen
“Mmm perreo…” he repeated absentmindedly
Pressing the cusp of your cunt on his clothed bulge, ass cheeks consuming and spilling out from his pelvis. Shaking your hips at various speeds and rhythms
Alternating between having your hands on the floor with your legs spread wide, having your knees bent with your fits on them, taking an ass cheek and spreading it so Viktor can see your sloppy pussy
“Eres bella.” (You’re beautiful.) heavy tongued, loving that the phrases you taught him were finally doing their magic
“Take that cock out now, jodio cabrón (fucking bastard).” Fuck did Viktor make you horny
“So vulgar.” He slowly unzipped his pants. Torturing you. He released his beautiful long cock. Dripping lines of precum down his head to his shaft 
You moaned at the sight of his dick, ready to be stuffed full. Spreading your pussy lips as an invitation. “Put it in.”
“I didn’t know that just a little dance could make you so aroused. Tell me what other— ohhhh, Janna!” Viktor had the wind knocked out of his lungs. Mouth gapping in pleasure
Sinking down his length shut him up. Pressing your ass until your cunt was consuming Viktor in a tight hold. Pushing him deep into the concrete
You swiftly shaking your ass faster than ever before. Not letting a single inches of that glorious dick escape your needy walls. One hand on the cold lab floor and the other playing with your clit
Viktor was whining, overwhelmed by the heat of your body. Hand letting go of his cane, it hit the ground with a powerful thud. Bracing himself on your hips
“I’m going to c-cum, my love—”
“Hechame esa leche adentro— mmmmmm… ¡Que rico eres, mi blanquito lindo!” (Cum inside me— mmmmmm… You’re delicious, my pretty little white boy!”)
Viktor came with a silente scream coating the inside of your pussy. If it wasn’t for the wall supporting Viktor’s back he would be on the ground by now
“That was incredible.” He stated, eyes wide with wonder and face flushed
He certainly asked for perreo lessons later on
And Viktor surprisingly can shake his hips very well! Which comes in handy for more than just one thing…
Vi
When you told her you were Puerto Rican she definitely said: “A mi me gusta la chocha de Puerto Rico.” (I love Puerto Rican pussy.)
You introduced her to reggaeton and now there is no going back, her favorite artist is Daddy Yankee
She likes to dirty dance with you, having your ass pressed against her pelvis. Especially when she has Bacardi in her veins
Vi doesn’t care what you put in her plate as long as it’s fresh and delicious
She enjoyes rice based dishes the most, like arroz con calamares (rice with calamari) and arroz con salchicha (rice with cocktail weenies)
She once downed a full bottle of coquito (coconut eggnog) on her own
Vi’s favorite dessert is arroz con coco (a coconut rice pudding)
She definitely makes fun of you for not being able to say certain words right!
Don’t EVER make a Puerto Rican say “jewelry” or “burglary”. We are allergic to L’s and R’s and it will cause us to go into septic shock!
Likes being called gringa by you. Thinks it’s hot when you say it, especially when she annoys the crap out of you
Her favorite curse word is vete pal’ carajo (go fuck yourself). And when she gets into scuffles or fights she always tosses it around
And she’s like “yeah, my girlfriend taught me that. I’m a bilingual queen as well.” She low key embarrassed the fuck out of you when she says that
“Vi, I really don’t want to do this—” Vi was strapping a pair of boxing gloves to your hands. “What if I get hurt? What if I hurt you?”
“Don’t worry about me, cupcake! I can take a few punches just fine. I’ll go easy on you. And besides—” she slapped the side of your headbrace. “I’ve seen you practice with Powder before. Ehh, it’s kind of pathetic how you throw a fist to be honest.” She gave your nose a peck, turning around and taking her side of the ring
“Hey! I’m a great hit!” You sassed placing your gloved hands on your hips
It was ON. You definitely were out for blood
“Then prove it! The stage is yours!” She ran the little bell that was attached at the wall.
It been less than 6 minutes in and you were already panting
Vi was definitely going light on you. Not even taking the spots you intentionally let open for her. She only dodged your every attempt to get a hit in
Light on her feet as she tripped your leg, causing you to fall on the ropes of the ring.
You wanted to call it, but your pride was too strong. And you equally stupid
“When are you going to hit me for real?! I didn’t think the great Violet was just a pussyfoot!” Vi pushed your buttons the right way. She loved when you got bratty
“You can’t take this heat, cupcake. I’ll knock you out until next Monday and Vander will have my head on a stick if I do.” She was right, but God did you want to wipe that smug look of her face!
“Oh, yes I can!” Your fist had a mind of its own. Angry as she was so cocky
Before you could think you took the open spot on her face. Hitting her square in the jaw, knocking her back on the rubber ropes. Vi was in shock and whiplashed by the quickness of your punch
“¡Ay, puñeta! ¡¿Violet, estás bien?!” (Oh, fuck! Violet, are you okay?!) You desperately took your gloves and stupid helmet off. The Velcro fighting your desperate attempt to pull it off
A drop of blood escaped her lips, Vi’s thumb flicked at the side of her mouth. Eyes on the smear of red, then up to you. Smirking at the damaged you inflicted
Fuck did you just make her 100 times hornier than she already was
“That kind of hurt.” Translation: it hurt like hell!
By the fire in her eyes you knew that you were so screwed. Your belly grew warm, the hole between your legs clenching on nothing
“Vi, I’m s-so sorry! I told that this was a bad—”
In a swift play of time, she pinned you against the ground. Having her left arm around your neck in a headlock, her left hand on your shoulder. As her legs trapped yours under her thighs, having them spread out with your pelvis arching forward. Both of your arms crossed behind your back pinned by the weight of your body
You moaned at the discomfort. Muscles tired by the training, you tried your best to wiggle out. Only for Vi to hold you harder against herself
“What’s wrong, cupcake? Bit off more than you can chew?” You did answer her with words, but with that glint in your eyes that meant (Fuck me, you damned raspberry bitch)
She slithered your baggy pants past your knees. Your pantieless cunt up in the air. Vi loved how you were always easy to access. From fingering you in public to her eating you out in some random alley
“Naughty girl. Who knew decking me in the face could get your pussy so wet.” She dipped a finger in your folds. Scooping the wetness and pulling it out to watch it drip
She gave your cunt a slap and your clit fluttered at the assault. Pulsating for more
“You like that, uhh?”
“Y-yeah—”
Vi gave you a plethora of open palmed hits. Juices streaming down your ass. Yelping as your cunt was being abused. All swollen and red
Vi thrusted her fingers into your opening in a scissoring motion. Her bloody thumb circling your clit
“V-vi— ahhhhaaamm! No puedo ver másss.” (I cant see anymore) Gurgling on the spit of your throat. Ready to pass out any second
Your vision went white by the lack of oxygen and the way Vi’s fingers played with your cunt so deliciously. Hot tears burning your skin from the constant stimulation
You stuck your tongue out, spitting saliva out thanks to the lack of air in your lungs. Face ready to turn blue. But did it make your body feel good…
“Just a little more— alright?”
Vi curled the tips of her fingers on your g spot and digged them in far into your crevice. Shaking her wrist to send vibrations to your whole pussy
You bit her forearm, shocks of pleasure coursing out the inside of your walls. Your teeth broke the skin, tasting the blood of your lover
Squirting the liquid of your orgasm on the ring’s floor. Vi let your body go, your lungs reviving in painful gulps of air
Vi turned you on your side, massaging your ribs and sternum. Licking the spit around your temple. She kissed your lips, careful not to take more oxygen from your body
“Who is going to clean this up?” Voice hoarse. Your mouth tasted coppery
“Lick the floor clean, losers get janitor duty.” She slapped your ass, you groaned at the lack of humanity. Vi got up from the floor and headed to her water bottle. Instead of taking a drink she poured it on her chest and hair. Nipples highlighted through her white sports bra. She pushed her wet hair back arms flexing a she felt your gaze on her
“We don’t got all night, cupcake. Avanza (hurry up).”
What a tease
Caitlyn
This girl has never know flavor until you came around
You were the daughter of one of her mother’s tailors and stylist. Your mom always brought you along to see her clients because she wanted you to take over one day
When you first visited the Kiramman residence you were blown away by the beauty of the estate. Your mom told you that this client would take longer than the others because she ordered a whole custom made ball gown
“I have a daughter, Caitlyn, about your age as well! Maybe you ladies can be friends! God knows my girl needs a gal pal.” She said excitedly as she was getting fitted for her gown.
Mrs. Kiramman gave you the liberty to explore the gardens as your mother worked. And you sat down near the water fountain to have your snack
“Esta gente si que tiene chavos…” (These people sure do have money…)
As you were munching on your sandwiches you saw a head of indigo hair peeking out from the rose bushes. A young girl
“Caitlyn, right? Do you want one?” You ask stretching your arms with your lunch in your hands. She timidly walked towards you
“What are they?” The girl asked as she sat next to you
“Sandwiches de mezcla (spam and velvita sandwiches) and platanutres (thinly fried plantain chips) ! They are really good, I made them fresh this morning.”
Caitlyn looked at them, and gently picked up a sandwich. Slowly taking a bite as she looked at your happy face.
Her eyes sparkling at the soft bread and salty spread
“Mmmm— I’ve never had anything like this before!” She then picked up some plantain chips. Savoring the salty crunch of them.
You quickly become friends. Cait even convinced her mother that she liked wearing fancy clothes just so that she could she you more frequently
Mrs. Kiramman was ecstatic that her little girl was going to wear more dresses than only her school uniform
Cait even goes as far as to ask her mom to invite you to her birthday party. The only close friend she really had was Jayce. And there were only going to be adults from other houses and The Council
You also became friends with Jayce, you both taught Cait how to dance bachata and salsa
“Cait move your hips more! You are stiff as a board, mija (girl)!” You said guiding her feet to the music
“I don’t have hips to shake!” She said as her cheeks flushed
Cait knows only a few Spanish phrases thanks to Jayce. Girl can’t roll her r’s or say her l’s even to save her life
She is a sweets girl! Loves flan de queso (cream cheese flan) and flan de vanilla (vanilla flan)
When she finally confessed her love for you she did it in Spanish. She practiced with Jayce for almost a month to get the emotions right
“Me gustas mucho. Te adoro. ¿Quieres ser mi novia?” (I like you a lot. I adore you. Do you want to be my girlfriend?) She handed you a bouquet of lilacs. You were so excited that you knocked her on her ass! You hit your head on a table and both of you spend your commitment with ice on your limbs
You watched each other grow up, you becoming a seamstress like your mother. And Cait going against all Mrs. Kiramman’s wishes and graduating from the Enforcer Academy
You join Cait in the private shooting classes with Officer Grayson. Both excellent shoots, but you not so much. You’re better in close range with a handgun
She looks so sexy in her enforcer outfit!
Lost your virginities to other other! It was the day of her graduation of the academy. When everyone was clustered in the Kiramman estate celebrating her accomplishment
You sneaked away together to her bedroom. Stealing a tray of hors d’oeuvres and a bottle of wine. Wanting to get away from the elite of Piltover
You were on her bed, stuffing your mouth with cheese and crackers
“You’re going to get crumbs on my sheets.”
“Are you going to give me a ticket for it?” Caitlyn scoffed at you as you tentatively shoved another bite in your mouth
Caitlyn stood in front of the mirror. Fixing her medals and badges that hung on the fabric. You knew her too well, she was picking herself apart. Thinking that she only got in the academy because of her name only
“I think I would get used to calling you “Officer Kiramman” you said crawling to the edge of the bed, bottle of wine in your hand. Lying on your stomach with your palm under your chin. Looking at the pretty lady in blue
You patted the spot next to you, discarding the bottle to the floor. Crossing your legs on the mattress
She walked to the bed and sat next to you, leaving her top hat on her bedroom ottoman
“Caitlyn, you have to believe me when I say that you are so much more than your house” You held her temple in your palm, she held your wrist. Closing her eyes as she savored your compassion
“You are more talented than those silver spooned pricks out there! You may have the same money and influence, but they will never reach the level of talent you have. Because what is all this power for if you don’t have the heart to push change? You care, Cait! And I saw with my own eyes how you make others do as well. Like the time you told your mom to give a raise for her maids and workers! Remember that?”
She giggled, remembering that day she saw your mother counting her last few coins to afford a new pair a shoes for you. Cait yelled at Mrs. Kiramman for hours, until she finally gave into her mistake
Next time she saw you there was a brand new pair of shoes on your feet that had you running up to Cait to tell her all about
And that instance evolved into Cait wanting a better world for you. She wanted to change the concrete you walked on into fields of flowers
“Thank you, I really needed that…”
“It also helps that you have a nice pair of tits.” You joked as you pointed to her Enforcer jacket
“You minx!”
She slapped your shoulder and chuckled as you faked your hiss in pain. Rolling around the bed as you help your poor “broken” arm!
“Ohhh, I’ve been a victim of police brutality!”
“I’ll show you brutality, bebé (babe)!”
She climbed on top of you, tickling your sides
“¡Cait, para que no puedo respirar!” (Cait, stop I can’t breathe!) Cait stopped her attach, watching as your chest rose to catch the missing breaths. Your cheeks rosie in adrenaline
She wanted you there with her always. Your hair on her pillows and the smell of your skin lingering on the buttery covers
“Cait?” You asked as you calmed down. Looking at her in worry
“Fuck it” Cait thought, as her lips captured yours in an estranged kiss.
After years of ghostly touches, of lingering eyes, and Jayce calling your romance worse than nuns in love in a convent. She wanted to go the next level with you
You pulled her in, rolling yourself on top
“Are you sure?” You asked bracing her neck
“It would be my honor to have my first time with you.” And yours as well. You started to take layers of your bodies
You both laughed at your struggle to unclip her blouse. Her fingers guiding yours as she showed you the intricacy of the clasps
“I guess that “enforcement” also extends to your uniform.”
“That’s why I only let you make my garments—” Caitlyn kissed the corner of your eye. “They are much more second party friendly.” You pushed the shirt of her body, surprised at the nakedness of the chest
“No bra?” You cupped her breast, feeling the goose bumps of her skin. Her breath hitched at the coldness of your hands
“I didn’t just expect half ass handshakes and putrid marriage proposals as graduation presents.” Cait took charge, pinning you against the edge of the bed. Crawling downwards to your core
She raised your skirt, white sheer stockings held by a lacy garter around your waist. Her eyes widened at the lack of fabric covering your mound
“You weren’t the only one expecting more than just pat on the shoulder tonight.” You moaned as she spread apart your lips
Cait dove in between your legs. Hands in your hips as she guided her tongue along your folds. Nose resting on the shell of your clit
“I t-think, ahhh, you underestimate yourself too much, Cait.” She focused on your bud, rolling her lips on it. Then sucking ever so lightly to draw whimpers out of your vocal cords
“¡Ya no aguanto más! Yo creo que—” (I can’t bear it anymore! I think that—)
You came with a grunt, arching your back of the matters. Head filling with rushed blood as it hanged free of support from the mattress. As you were lost in your high, Cait placed her cunt on yours and rolled her hips. Feeling her clit make love to yours. Your previous orgasm used at oil to make her slip against your pleasures
“Ready for another round?” She whispered into your raised calf. Teeth ripping the material of your stockings. She will buy you new ones, better ones.
Caitlyn was born into wealth and privilege, but she is the most understanding girl you’ll ever met
When you pointed out the problem, she found a solution even if it meant going against her high society
You opened her eyes to the real world and she is so thankful for that
Mel
You were part of the council serving as an international ambassador like her
When Mel first saw what you brought to the council she wanted only to use you as a pawn
But she fell in love with your want for progress, one that actually breaks cycles and not just one that covers them with empty promises
She saw herself in you, a woman that wanted to break the bounds of her past convictions
Neither of you had houses in Piltover and shared different cultural backgrounds than the others
You secretly make fun of the culture shocks you experienced when first moving to Piltover
Both you and Mel HATE the cold that comes with Piltovan winters
She knew about your country and even speaks fluent Spanish thanks to her mother being a Noxian general.
Mel is a scholar, she read up on everything PR before ever making a move on you
Even if she already read up on everything she asks you questions just to hear you rant about your roots
“Is it true that Puerto Rico has the best coffee? I’ve been planning on investing in some companies, but I’m still on the fence…” Mel said in a quizzical tone. Tapping her pen to her chin
Your eyes sparkled. “We have the BEST coffee! Did you know that we have almost 3,000 coffee farms in all PR?! And we also have started to produce cacao as well. It’s incredible considering—” you ranted out
She zoned out, just appreciating the beauty of which you speak so lovingly about a simple thing as coffee beans
You teach her how to make homemade sofrito (a wet spice blend made with sweet peppers, cilantro, recao, and other herbs)
But your favorite memory is when you made dulce de leche together because Mel wanted to make a tiered cake for Alura’s birthday
“¿Quieres probar un poco?” (Want to try some?) You had already some on your index finger for yourself, but you were dipping the wooden spoon for Mel to taste
“Absolutely.” She took the spoon out of your hand and placed it back in the pot. Mel grabbed your wrist
She brought your finger to her mouth. Feeling the velvety muscle roll on your finger pad. Mel took your digit all the way to the knuckle. Slowly pulling her head back with a moan
“It could use some more vanilla.” Mel said dipping her finger back into the caramel. You were felt stunned, mouth gapping and your temple rose red
“What about the sugar?” You cringed as your voice broke. Screaming mentally about getting a grip. You literally have the prettiest woman in Piltover at your wake, and here you are speaking like a teen hitting puberty!
“Mmm, I can find another way to make it a little sweeter…”
“Strip for me, darling.” You did has she commanded. Shredding off the layers of clothing all to please her
You loved the way she looked at you, eyes of a lioness. They held a power over you, you ate from her hands
She took the pot by the handle and tilted it until syrup flowed out the metal. Pouring lukewarm dulce de leche on your skin. As if she was washing the body of a queen. It slowly dripping down your body. From your nipples to the crescents of your abdomen
Flicking her finger up the cusp of your breast to your nipple. Collecting the sugary treat only for her to give her finger to you. You repeating the same action she did moments before
She stared at the base of your neck, then at your chest. Occasionally, coming back to you and sticking out her tongue so you could eat it out of her mouth. You didn’t know who was sweeter. Mel or the candy you made together
Mel kittened licked your areolas clean, never breaking eye contact with you. As her hot tongue cleaned you off
Mel stripped shortly after. The gold birthmarks of her body reflecting in the light. She takes the spoon an and spreads the dulce de leche on her ass cheeks. Candy flowing down her thighs
“Eat up.”
You sat on the floor staring with the drizzle on her thighs, then raising to the globes of her ass. Licking the syrup of her smooth skin. Nibbling at the small golden freckles that decorated her dark skin
“Is it sweet enough now, darling?”
You ordered a cake from an expensive bakery in Piltover and called it a day. What Alura didn’t know won’t hurt her
She definitely stuffed your pussy with her paint brushes when she is working on a new project
Having your legs spread wide for her as he picks up a brush for your entrance, making sure she thrusts it in and out a few times to get a moan for you
Sucking the juices of the handle then dipping the bristles in red paint
And what about you eating her out in her office when she is working?! The possibilities are endless with Mel
For me she is the type to love anything you make her. There is so much diversity in Puerto Rican cuisine and her just picking one is impossible in her eyes.
But man does she appreciate a fresh mofongo relleno de camarones (smashed fried plantain topped with shrimp in a tomato sauce)
And you also teach her the basics of bomba (a tradicional African dance). Even gifting her a custom made traditional outfit to make your dance rehearsals all the more authentic
Mel takes you on lavish vacations to the island. Staying at the best hotels and you serve as a guide to her. Taking Mel to all your favorite local spots to eat pinchos (meat skewers) and drink Medallas (Puerto Rican beer)
You took her to your favorite archipelagos and little islands surrounding PR. And skinny dipped into the various bioluminescent bays at night. Mel had never had such a good time in her life
“Querida (love), I have a present for you.” Mel entered your shared living space. Medium canvas in hand
“Oh, Mel! You didn’t have to! Is there any special occasion that I forgot about?!” You got up from your stop on the couch, greeting her with a kiss
“No, love. I just wanted to do something special.” She turned the canvas around. You squealed at the art piece. She never disappoints!
“Mel! ¡Qué pintura más espectacular! (What an espectacular painting!) The water and sand look so life like! I can’t wait to hag this up in my office!”
“I painted it after we got back from holiday. It’s that big archipelago you took me at the end of your trip.” She circled your waist for behind, resting her chin on your shoulder
“Yes, Cayo Icacos! Oh my God, it even has the same dock and the coast line!” You said admiring the canvas
“There is also on more thing—” She walked over your wine cabinet, pouring two glasses of wine. “I bought Icacos for us. So we can spend your winter vacations there. Alone. Together.” She kissed your jaw, handing you the glass
“Oh like you rented it out for us?” You took a swig, moaning at the sweet undertones
“No, I got the government to officially sell it to me and put it under our names.” Mel said nonchalantly. You sip out your wine in shock
Yep, you definitely passed out shortly after
Ekko
You were one of the people that lost everything to Silco. Your community was slowly taken by Shimmer and gang wars
Ekko and the Firelights rescued you from Silco’s men. You didn’t want to join his web of crime and they proceeded to burn your shop with you inside
If it wasn’t for them being close by you would have lost more than just a few inches of healthy skin
Ekko teaches you how to fix things, how to clean and go at any loose cables their hover skateboards may have
You also picked up flying those boards pretty quickly, he made sure to make them as user friendly as possible
You were sitting on one of the many branches of the Tree, watching the children play and seeing the progress of the new faces in the mural. Fuck did it hurt seeing those paint brushes touch the trunk of the tree
The branch shook with the addition of a foreign weight
“Lost in thought, chica (girl).” You looked up at Ekko, still wearing his Firelight coat with his white owl mask hanging from his belt
“Tell me what’s your mind.” He sat next to you, bumping your shoulder playfully
“I fell like I’m not doing much— like I’m not doing anything. Like I-I’m a burden to this place.” You sighed, throat tight with anxiety. Eyes burning with hot tears
“And what do you want to do?” Ekko asked, holding your hand that was resting your lap. Shining brown eyes studying your features
God why was he so damn handsome when you are in the middle of a breakdown!
“I just d-don’t want to stand by— and — and watch my people be slaughtered…” You said between jagged lips
Ekko smirked at your answer, slowly pulling away from you and placing a box on your thighs
“What is it?” You wiped your tears away with the back of your hand
“Open.” Ekko leaned back on his palms, trying his best to keep his cool guy act even if he was nervous as hell inside
You opened the box, inside there was a Firelight mask. One shaped like the face of a bird like many others in group
Suddenly you remembered that faint pop of green in the sky from your childhood. Of a little green bird that would eat your grandmas tomatoes from her garden
Your eyes widened. What is this really what you think it is?
“Ekko— is this a cotorra puertorriqueña (PR’s national bird)?” You said in aw, lifting the mask and examining its details. Feeling the emotion Ekko put into carving it
“I’m sorry it took so long, but I wanted to make something that would represent you—” He took a small book from of his coat, falling apart by age. “And I landed on that. I found this book in one of the flee markets I went to.” He flipped the pages, letting you see the images and words on the pages. Everything from fauna to history was written on it
Ekko pointed at an image of the bird. “It just screamed you— beautiful and free. I-I mean also many other things like—”
You cut Ekko of with an embrace, holding the mask to your chest
“No sabes cuán agradecida estoy, Ekko. Gracias, gracias, gracias…” (You don’t know how grateful I am for this, Ekko. Thank you, thank you, thank you…) You sobbed on his shoulder, gripping him tightly as if something was going to take him away from you
“Por nada, chica (you’re welcome, girl).” Ekko whispered, arms circling your back
You cook for the Firelight community and when it’s your turn to serve your food the line triples with people more than other days
Ekko even made space for a little herb garden for you! And you have some plantain trees growing in
He likes helping you cook as well. His favorite thing to do is cut, mash, and fry tostones (plantain fritters)
Wouldn’t it be cool for Ekko to have some Caribbean background?! Like Jamaican, Trinidadian, or even Dominican
I can just see Ekko going ham on a pastelón de carne (a sweet plantain lasagna with ground beef and mozzarella cheese)
You give the kids and the adults Spanish lessons. And private ones to Ekko (wink wink)
I believe that the community has a beautiful shower pace! Filled with plants and vines that filter the water making it crystal clear. It’s almost like a never ending waterfall. And it’s especially breathtaking at night when the moon and fireflies light the place up
It was past midnight, and you just got back from other painstaking parole. Dirt coating your clothing and skin
You head straight to the showers. Discarding your clothes on the bench of the makeshift stall you were in.
The stream was cool to your skin, nursing those fresh bruises on your arms and thighs. Grateful for the fresh washcloths, liquid soap and towels that were replenished after every use
You turned around at the sound of an object falling. Ekko’s pupils wide at the sight of your bare breasts and ass. As his owl mask laid on the floor. Who long was he there looking? Did he like what he was looking at?
“S-shit I’m sorry! I thought that it was empty! I’m just gonna—”
“It’s okay— you can stay if you want, Ekko…” Did one of Silco’s goons hit you to hard on the head? Ekko hesitated at first, but when you gave him a nod
You saw him taking off his clothes. Body littered with old scars. He stepped into your space. Both you and him admiring your bodies, if it wasn’t for the cold water you would be in flames
Trying your best to not look at his cock. You started washing off the white paint, careful of not to get any in his eyes. And he did the same, washing your face and neck. A blush on your cheeks
“I believe that “Boy Savior” is an understatement—” Feeling his toned stomach under the soapy washcloth. “You are more of a man than a lot of people out there.”
“Can I kiss you?” He brushed his thumb along the curves your your lips
“Yes…”
Ekko leaned into your lips. He hungered you for a long time, scared that if he got to close you’ll disappear like all his past loved ones
He touched the purple bruise on your rib as he wanted to pull you in, you gasped in pain breaking the kiss. His touch recoiled, then slowly came back in feather like stokes
“You should have never gotten this hurt!” He was angry at himself, it should have been him getting hurt. Not you, never you!
“I shouldn’t have been so focused on destroying those Shimmer barrels…” He pressed his forehead on yours. Eyes crimson with hurt
“We signed up for this, I did too. And if making the Underground better means a few scrapes and headaches, then I’m more than happy to do so.” Thumb wiping away his stray tears
“What can I do to make this up to you?” He kissed the pulse of your wrist
“If you shut up and make love to me.”
He backed you against the rocky wall, water cascading in between your bodies. You wrapped your legs around his waist. Moans concealed by the rush of the water
Ekko’s hips meet yours as he dropped and lifted your body on his arms. Cock hitting you gummy walls and g-spot
“¡Clávame más fuerte! ¡Quiero que se te rompa el bicho de tan duro que me rócese!” (Fuck me harder! I want you to break your dick with how hard you give it to me!)
Nails scratching his back, adding to the multitude of wounds on his body. You both were going to hurt so bad in the morning
“You drive me crazy, chica (girl)!”
You came in his cock in the final thrust, body pulsating with the warmth of your orgasm and the ice of the water
He pulled out and came on your stomach, kissing your neck hard enough to leave traces of your escaped. Your legs jelly at the knees
You and Ekko spent the last hours of night in the streams. Basking in the freshness of your flesh. Having each other on every wall and surface possible
“You know what I’m feelin’ right now?”
“Like your cock is going to fall off?” You said into his chest as you laid back with him on the wooden bench looking at the moon. Ekko’s chest rumbled in a chuckle
“That, and a hot bowl of asopao de pollo (chiken and rice soup).”
Sevika
Sevika definitely has a thing for Latinas
You moved to Piltover a few years ago and started working at The Last Drop. There was an influx of Spanish speaking people and Vander was desperately looking for a bilingual server
He hired you on the spot not caring how many years of experience you had
She basically became your unofficial body guard. Scaring of creeps that got to friendly while you were working
You taught her how to play dominos and you still ended up losing! You had to make her sorullitos (fired cornmeal sticks) for a month
She helps you give out food to the kids and homeless people around the Undercity. It breaks her heart seeing you cry over the people that suffer thanks to Piltover
After she lost her arm you took care of her. Making her cope with a new life change and the challenges that came with it
And you best believe you chewed her ear off about the whole Vander and Silco situation. Refusing to work for Silco and running your own food business to get by
There aren’t many South East Asians in the Undercity or in Piltover, and you bonded because of the lack of a community.
I think you guys talk a lot about the men in your life, how they treated both of you with violence. How toxic males can be thanks to your cultures never giving them consequences for there actions
Talking about how unworthy Sevika felt for just being born a woman, and a queer woman at that. How she finally broke away from all the stereotypes and became a force to be reckoned with after the death of her father
You heal each others soul wounds by embracing the best of your heritage 
She knows all the Indian beauty secrets! She is the one that washes and oils your hair. Saying that “you don’t know how to take care your hair”
“Sevika, I feel like my scalp is about to start bleeding!” You wiggled away as the scalp massager dug into the sensitive parts of your head
“That means it’s working! Stop being a baby.” She poured more warm oil on your head and ignored your whining
She just wants to do something nice for you and loves your reaction as you see how long your hair as gotten since getting together
A lot of the spices that you both use for your cooking it basically nonexistent in the underground
And if they sell them, they go for an arm and a leg (hahaha amputation joke)
So Sevika makes sure that she puts special orders in the smuggling catalog for all the spices, herbs and produce that you both need to make delicious meals
You put her on to tropical fruits. From the massive avocados to the sweet and sour passion fruits
“So when I’m getting a taste of your papaya?” She is a massive flirt.
Sevika’s love language is making you a cup of chai every morning
She is mostly vegetarian, only occasionally eating meat. So her favorite food that you make is also a labor of love
So I just know she loves the pasteles you make. They literally take you a whole day to prepare. From cooking the pork or chicken, toasting the banana leaves on the stove, grading the plantains, making the red oil, and wrapping them up to look like a present
It was the holiday season and you sold almost 30 preorders of your 12 count pasteles. Making big bank, but losing your peace filling all these orders in time for Christmas Eve
She says that she will “help” but she stands leaning on the counter as you fold the banana leaves in place as she munches on plantain chips
Sevika thought you were the sexiest at home in your batas (old lady dresses or muumuus). She could clearly see the outline of your body thanks to the sheer fabric. Especially liking how your nipples got hard in the cold air and the fat mound of your hairy pussy when you didn’t wear panties with the nightgown
With a frustrated look on your face when the leaf doesn’t want to work with you
Cursing under your breath “Hijo de puta— yo te digo…” (“Son of a bitch— I’m telling you…”)
“You look so sexy when you’re frustrated, mamí…” Sevika cradled your hips from behind. Kissing the curve of your nec
“Was helping me all bullshit Sevika?”
“You forget that I only have one arm left?” She said patting her empty shoulder. Smirking at your eye roll
You weren’t amused at all at her joke. “Haha, very funny…”
“But I have other ways to help you at least…” Her hand slowly creeping under your dress strap
“Like what?” You questioned her, eyebrows raised
Sevika was in between your legs as you made the last batch of pasteles for the night
Nightgown discarded on the floor
Sucking on your clit each time you finished folding a pastel. Slowly pulling it away from her mouth and letting it go with a pop. Her two middle fingers thrusting in and out of your entrance
She watched from the kitchen floor as your breasts heaved at every lick of her tongue. Biting your outer lips when you didn’t fold the leaves fast enough
“¡Comeme la tota así mismoooo!” (Eat my pussy just like thatttt!) You made those pasteles as if you were on steroids
Her nose pressed against your mound breathing the smell of your cunt. The smell of a grown woman was intoxicating to her.
Sevika speed up her fingers and tongue, you wanted to come undone. But pushed through the last of them
Your hands braced the counter as your orgasm took over. Raising one of your legs of the ground so Sevika could drink your release fully. She groaned at the taste, vibrations sending heat through your overstimulated body
You sucked a breath, peering down your bottom half. Sevika resting her head on your inner thigh, sucking purple marks on your flesh. Jaw coated in your silk. Grey eyes drinking in your dazed face
“I believe I was more than enough help. Don’t you agree, muñeca (doll)?” She gave you clit a little kiss, pleasure running up your spine
“Eres terrible, ‘Vika—” (you’re terrible, ‘Vika—) you let out breathlessly. Ruining your fingers through her short hair
She took her fingers out of your pussy, and you leaned down to taste yourself on her. Indulging in the salty sweet flavor of your bodies. Lapping her fingers clean and then kissing Sevika. Her lips push against yours
“Mmm my compliments to the chef.” You had more than one good fuck that night on the floor with Sevika
Who knew that pasteles were such an aphrodisiac?
If they ask you why these were so delicious you just smile shyly and say: “I just put a little extra love (orgasm) into them.”
Vander
As a bartender he absolutely was inspired to make a cocktail menu for you. Makes you his official taste tester for any new drink he plans to put in the menu
You owned a small food stand in the Underground ever since he was working in the mines
And it was always packed with people in and out of work
You got together shortly after Vander stopped your shop from getting mugged by some punks
Vander is a coffee lover and always makes it a routine to get up early in the mornings just so that he can have a hot cup of Puerto Rican joe with fresh butter and bread on the side
Thankful that you always feed his kids when he doesn’t have time to cook for them, and free at charge with at that
But he always sneaks more than enough coin into your tip jar when he visits you after a rough day
“Does Vander ever feed you guys at all?” You asked serving another customer
“He does but he burns everything he cooks—” Vi said licking her fingers clean from the delicious poultry you made
“Can I have another piece of chicken, tití (auntie)?” Powder said holding her empty plate at you, big eyes looking at you with love. Mouth covered in red sauce
“Con esos ojitos (with those little eyes) who can say no to you Pow-Pow!”
Yes his kids call you auntie and I’ll take that to the grave!
Whenever you call him “Hound” he blushes! And you make fun of him a lot for it as well. Calling him a dog as you catch him looking at your ass as you bend over to get plates and watching your tits jiggle as you make your fresh pressed juices.
Coquito (coconut eggnog) is his all time favorite drink, second to guarapo (sugar cane juice). And when you gave him a shot to try it solidifies his want to open a bar so he can make delicious drinks like this
When it’s the holidays Vander lets you have parrandas (live Puerto Rican music parade) at the bar. You introduced him to el guiro (a type of musical instrument) and la pandereta (small hand drum). And he plays them really well!
“Maybe those big hands are not just useful for punching things, huh Vander?” You played along side him as you watched the kids for a dance circle. Chuckling at Powder’s lack of feet coordination as she stepped on Mylo’s toes
“I will have to show you sometime. You will certainly be surprised, love.” You blushed, quickly going over the other musicians to sing your part of the chorus. You felt his eyes on you the whole time, loving the attention he gave you
The kids went to sleep as midnight approached. The adults enjoying their late drinking. Vander was leaning against the bar as you danced with Sevika. Watching you teach her the basics of bachata so that she could impress the girl she was pinning for
“You’re not so bad at this, Sevika!” She twirled you around
“Na, I’m better at the cards than all of this.” Sevika said, still looking at your feet as you guided her steps
In the corner of your eye you saw this other girl go up to Vander. You didn’t hear what they were thanks to the loud music. But you saw him shaking his head “no”. The girl turned around annoyed, flicking her wrist at him as dismissing a dog. Wishing her eyes found a brain in the back for her skull as she rolled them. You thought she finally back off. But you were wrong…
She pressed her ass against the front of his pants, shaking her flat flabby ass. Vander choking in his drink in pure shock. Trying to push the girl away
Before Sevika could stop you, you were already across the other side of the bar. Fist clenched, Vander making brief eye contact with you. His eyes widened at your wrath. Uh oh…
“¡Èl dijo que no jodia puta! ¡Te voy a romper la cara!” (He said no you fucking whore! I’m going to break your face in!) Grabbing her hair by the root and dragging her off to the bar floor. Her screaming and sinking her nails on your forearms, drawing blood. You screamed at her attach
You hear people cheer and yell at you to: “teach her to not touch anyone’s man again”.
Throwing your body weight back and making her crash into the round tables. Before the girl could even process the pain you straddled her stomach and punched her face in. The alcohol in your system making you rabid
“Love, that’s enough!” Vander pulled your fingers off the girls body. You were thrashing against his hold. Sevika hoisted the other woman taking her out of the bar.
“Everyone, out!” Vander yelled. You watched bodies move with blurry eyes. You still thirsty for blood.
“¡Déjame! (Let go!) ! Ugh, Vander!” He threw you over his shoulder. You punching his muscular back for him to let you go. He took you into the supply closet behind the bar. Dropping your feet on the floor.
“Let me out Vander! She is not getting off that easy for touch you like that!”
You wobbled like a new born fawn, holding the shelves for support. Vander locked the door and turned on the dim light abode your heads.
“Sit your ass down! I’m not tellin’ you twice…” Vander warned, pointing at the large empty barrel. You stared him down on your tippy toes. Blue eyes piercing yours.
“You really want to go there, sweetheart?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest. Getting close enough to smell the whiskey and smoke on his breath. The smell of your man
You wanted those hands around your throat. You wanted him to fuck the brat out of you. Your fight for dominance was short lived
“Fine.” You caved in and sat down with an annoyed plop. Grumbling at him with your arms crossed
God, did you love the control he had over you. You loved a man that put you in your place, while still being caring and loyal
Vander turned his back to you while looking for the first aid kit. Admiring the thickness of his body. And those pants that made his ass and legs look so delectable
“If I wouldn’t have stopped you, you’ll be heading to Stillwater by the end of the night.” Vander stood in front of you, raising your head to meet his warm gaze
“I’m sorry—” You whispered as your eyes became teary
“Christ, love! You would have killed her!” He lifted your arms to see the damage. Cleaning your wounds with alcohol. You hissed at the burn. Vander slowly wrapping your forearms with white gauze
“I’ve never seen you act like that before—” Breaking the silence. “I didn’t think a lady such as yourself could be so violent, so jealous…”
Vander would never admit that he loved what you did to that girl. How sexy you were while beating the shit out of a stranger just for him. It made him feel loved in a fucked up way
He lifted your bandaged arms to his lips. Breathing the scent of your wounds
“Tell me, love. Are all Puerto Rican women like that?” He asked innocently, looking at your face with curiosity
“I’m not just a jealous woman, Vander… I’m going to tell you a little secret about us puertorriqueñas.” You said stroking his bearded cheek. “We are territorial. And we fight for what is ours, even if it means that I have to fucking sink my teeth into any whore that touches mi hombre (my man)” You said between your gritted teeth, pulling Vander towards you. Tongue sinking into his mouth tasting faint of whiskey
You pulled his belt, harshly tugging it open. Feeling his hard cock through the fabric. God, did you want to get that whore’s smell of him. Replace it with the scent of your cunt
“You are mine, Vander. And I am yours.”
His eyes dialed, pants ever so uncomfortable. Vander launched at you, lifting you by your legs and kissing your lips. Your back gently hitting against the liquor shelves
He quickly discarded your bottoms, you gave his length a few pumps then lined it up against your cunt. You could never get bored of the sight of his cock, or the hot stretch it gave you
“Choke me, Vander!” You yelled, pussy filled with him. His hand was placed in your neck in a moment. Fingers pressing your pulse points.
Vanders thrusting was meet with the sounds of clinking bottle and the rattling of the shelves. He was a beast, slapping your entrance at full force as moans were caught on your airway. Velvety walls sucking him in. Heavy balls knocking against the push of your cheeks.
“I’m gonna cum, lovie—” He let go of the hold on your throat. “Where do you want it?”
“In my mouth!” Vander dismounted you. Cock glossy from the slick of your pussy
You kneeled on the ground, fingers fucking your pussy. Taking that big veiny dick in one go, slurping your combined juices as his tip hit the back of your throat. Vander’s hand resting in your hair. Your other hand massaging his balls
Vander came with a grunt, back of his head hitting the wooden shelves. Gasping in surprise as it coated your mouth. He was going to need ice for that later, you thought, enjoying the creaminess of his cum
Sticking your tongue out to show him his release. Then moaning as you swallowed it
“You dirty girl.” Biting your lip as he cursed at your seduction
“My dirty dog.”
You licked his cock clean. Pulling his foreskin in between your lips. Kissing it all around and making out with his tip slit. You nibbled at his shaft, using a bit of teeth to draw gasps from Vander
You brought your mouth to his pubic bone. Biting his skin, hard enough to leave marks. And leaving hickeys on his stomach
Loving how your food left some extra pounds on him. Making his tummy all the more squishy and soft
“You’re eating me alive, love—” You giggled on his skin, slowly stroking his spent cock. “Mark your territory, mi loba (my she-wolf).”
“Con placer…” (With pleasure…) You gave his cock a final kiss. Long lasting, a little red bruise at the side of his shaft. Moaning at your work, eyes sparkling up at him
Vander helped you off your knees, and leaned you against his chest. You rested there for a while, calming down for your sex crazed high
“Do you want me to make you a passion fruit mock-tail, darlin’?” Vander rasped, hand soothing the pulse of your throat 
“Yesss please, and with extra—” Vander shushed you with a kiss
“And with extra ice and pineapple pieces. I know, amor (love), I know.” He pecked your forehead
#arcane#arcane league of legends#arcane x reader#jayce x reader#sevika#vander arcane#jayce talis#vi x reader#viktor league of legends#viktor x reader#vander x reader#ekko x reader#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn x reader#mel medarda#mel medarda x reader#sevika x reader#ekko arcane#ekko x fem reader#puerto rican#puerto rican reader
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Javier Peña x f!reader
summary: Javier wants you. Plain and simple. You don’t fall for his charm so easily
warnings: as always SMUT (m!masturbation, semi-public handjob, vaginal fingering, oral - f!receiving, protected p in v, biting, spitting, hair pulling, praise kink), cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, fluff and soft!Javi - because I can’t help myself
word count: 17k (holy moly guacamole - I am so fucking sorry)
A/N: This took me literally five days to finish (longer than I anticipated). Writing and then editing, re-reading it over and over again. But I had so much fun writing these two together. I love them.
You will never forget the day you met the infamous Javier Peña.
It was the first day at your new job - a new beginning for you, let’s say. Moving to a new country whose language you hardly spoke, having to accommodate to the new pace of things. That didn’t mean it was a bad thing though - you needed the change. After living in a small town for nearly all of your life where everyone knew everything about you, you were pretty glad when they accepted you as a secretary for DEA office in Colombia. It was…different. The people, the lifestyle they led. Nonetheless, change was good for you - you needed it.
What you didn’t need - or at least you thought so at the beginning - was having a smooth talker, devilish charmer and so-called "ladies' man" ogle you right as you entered the DEA building. His eyes watched every measured step you took as you held your head high when passing by him - not giving him the time of a day. You could see from the corner of your eye that he licked his lips and smoothed his thumb along the bottom one, his eyes trailing your figure.
He watched your smooth legs move effortlessly - light as if you were a butterfly slowly floating in the air, even in your heels. He could definitely make your legs wobble if you would let him, he thought as he licked his lips. Your green work skirt fitted you like a damn glove, your white blouse flowy - made to look professional yet efficient for you to not cook alive in that god-forsaken Colombian heat - highlighting your sun-kissed skin. He felt like a dog that was shown a proper peace of meat after days of starving. Oh, and starved he was.
He almost broke his neck when you disappeared around the corner and Steve threw him an unimpressed look from behind the folder he was going through before he heard Javier roughly exhale. The blond-haired agent tossed the thick folder filled with documents on the desk and leaned back on the uncomfortable office chair as he watched his partner seemingly lost in thought - he could guess what thoughts were occupying his mind right then. He scoffed and that seemed to pull Javier out of his trance, his dark eyes narrowed as he looked at his partner.
“What?” he grumbled. Javier’s eyes were challenging as he bored them into Steve’s baby blues as if saying “just say what you want to say.”
One thing Javier hated about Steve - and there were a lot of things that he didn’t like about him but if he was to pinpoint one it would have to be this - was how he unseemingly loved to call out Javier on his so-called “bullshit”. Even though often it was his private life - which frankly was none of his business. He loved to criticize and not be criticized in return - that he and Peña had in common even if he neither one of them would ever admit that.
“Don’t even think about it, Peña.” Steve muttered as he held eye contact with Javier - neither of them ready to back down.
Seconds passed. Maybe a minute even.
Javier was the first one to break it off as he glanced behind his shoulder, a sly grin spreading across his lips. He liked to play dirty - and pissing off his partner seemed plenty dirty play enough for him. And if you’d give in - as he was sure you would - and Steve would hear the pretty little cries of Javier’s name falling out of your lips? That seemed like a sweet victory to the dark-haired agent.
One thing about Javier was that when someone tells him can’t or shoudln’t do something - you know he will do exactly that. He turned to Steve once more.
“I don’t know what are you talking about.” Steve squinted his eyes and sighed - knowing damn well Javier was already planning on how to charm you in his mind.
“You know what I am talking about, Javier.”
His grin spread wider - his fingers quickly drumming on the wooden desk he was leaning his hands against. It was an old thing - folders that Javier should get through by tonight sitting on top of it. He had better things to do now. Paperwork could wait. Your perfume lingered in the office when you passed by, calling him to you like a damn siren song.
“Just trying to be friendly here, Murphy. Not that you know anything about it.”
“We both know that your definition of ‘friendly’ when it comes to women means ‘I want to spread-“
Before he could finish his sentence Javier was already one long leg out of the office making his way toward where you were seated at your desk. You were concentrated - your brows furrowed and the rim of your reading glasses falling from the bridge of your nose. You were not from here - Javier could tell. He noticed the mug filled with coffee on your desk that had “best sister ever” written on it in a thick cursive, the letters red and next to it a big heart.
The temperature in the office was hot - too hot even for Javi that was used to the Texan heat back from Laredo. His blue shirt damp from the sweat that dribbled down his back, his torso, his neck. The material of the shirt stuck to him. That wouldn’t be the last thing that would stick to him today. He was sure of that.
It seemed you came prepared though - the small fan on your desk felt like heaven on earth against your sweaty skin. He watched one droplet roll down from the side of your temple, slowly down to your jaw, your neck, falling into the juncture of it and rolling down between the valley of your breasts. He would gladly lick it from your skin if you’d let him. He would do much more than that to you if you’d let him.
“Can I help you with something?” His eyes teared away from your cleavage and met your gaze - your eyes narrowed in annoyance as you put your reading glasses down, the papers you were reading before he came laid now on your desk. He quickly scanned your features and yeah, you were definitely someone who’d he like to spend his night with. Or lunch break, or-
He ignored your question as he looked at your nails - one of his hands coming to inspect it closer but before he could you pulled your hands away - folding them across your chest. “I like the color. Brings out the color of your eyes.”
You quirked an eyebrow at that - leaning against the leather chair you looked him up and down quickly before leaning back towards him. Your elbows were prepped on the wooden desk and he leaned closer as well -his eyes quickly dipping to your cleavage once again.
“Listen here-“ A pause followed.
“Javi.” He offered.
“Javi.” You repeated. His name falling out of your mouth - the accent not quite right but he did not mind one bit. He found it endearing in a way. “Listen here, Javi. I don’t know what you think is going to happen but whatever it is just forget about it. Your southern charm won’t work on me. Been there, done that.”
He pulled away - taken back by your quick rejection, his eyebrows furrowing just a little. The crease on his brows showing and he took a quick breath to retort something, his tongue slipping out to lick his lower lip.
“And what did you think I thought was going to happen, mariposa?” The old leather chair creaked beneath your weight as you moved back in it slightly. An amused smirk pulled at your lips as you ignored the nickname he gave you - which in all honesty you didn’t know what it meant. You’d ask him another time. It seemed that you would be seeing this “Javi” a whole lot more than you thought.
You leaned closer to him and he did the same - as if the two of you were pulled by some magnetic force toward one another. It got hotter once his nose almost touched yours, his fingers with neatly trimmed nails gripping the edge of your desk. You slowly raised from your seat. You ignored it all - the way his eyes bored into yours, how you felt as if molten lava was in the pit of your stomach, how your hands clenched at your sides.
He smelled like cigarettes and coffee, and some kind of expensive cologne. The smell of him made your nose and insides burn - something about his presence made you feel like every cell in your body was on fire. That’s how the DEA agent made women feel most of the time - you didn’t know that back then.
Your voice dropped an octave lower as you whispered. “I don’t think it would be appropriate to say what I think you thought in a public setting. Especially in a working place.” An amused chuckle fell out of his lips as you seated yourself. Mirth danced in his eyes as he replied:
“Good thing I am inappropriate most of the time, mariposa.” Javier Peña was a bold man. He knew that and most of the people that were acquainted with him knew that. But you didn’t know who he was and he expected that you would scoff - tell him to fuck off. But you didn’t.
You couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto your lips as you pretended to read the documents on your desk - your conversation ending with that.
He watched you for a few seconds, expecting that maybe you would say something smart back in return because you know - it seemed you had a smart mouth. He turned on his heels as he left you to do what you actually came here to do - work - and he should do the same.
Oh, and you were going to be fun, he thought. When he came back and sat behind his desk, he had this stupid boyish smirk planted on his face. Steve looked at him and then back at where you were supposed to be working - even though he couldn’t see you. And the blonde-haired agent thought that this meant no good.
Three years passed since your first encounter with Javier.
Three torturous years filled with you two dancing around each other - like two ships passing one another in the stillness of a night. You two became somewhat friends. Three years filled with flirting and bickering, stolen glances and going out on drinks.
Sometimes Steve joined the two of you - most of the time not. At first, he seemed to be glued to Javier’s hip - afraid that his partner would try another one of his many tricks on you. Oh, and he did.
His flirtatious nature came out on the surface anytime you were near him - though you did not crumble under his advances as Javier wished you would. Your knees didn’t buckle, your cheeks didn’t turn a darker shade of red, your eyes didn’t flutter when he was closer to you than it seemed proper. But after a while, both agents found out you weren’t even near to falling for the smooth talker that Javier was. The only thing you offered him was friendship - your presence and your laugh, your silly jokes and weird habits.
And he took it all - his flirtatious nature and comments remained but it seemed more friendly than not. And you did the same in return - your smart-ass comments about how his ass looked “good enough to bite in those tight jeans" kept him on his toes, his cheeks hurt with all of the genuine laughter you pulled out of somewhere deep in his chest.
So Steve started joining your outings outside of work less and less - you were an intelligent woman and he liked you. You wouldn’t do something stupid like sleep with Javier.
The thing was - you wanted to. After the stressful day at work, you wished you could have Javier here - in your crappy apartment that was assigned to you by the U.S. embassy. You knew his reputation, you knew that his needs were simply carnal - a basic transaction of pleasure and bodily fluids. He never wanted his lady friends to stay over - never wanted them to have any expectations of having something more with him.
You can still remember the vivid shock you felt when you banged on the door of your next-door neighbor who appeared to only come alive at night.
The walls were thin and you could hear every moan, groan, slap of skin against skin, every bang that the bedframe made when hitting the wall. At first, you tried to ignore it - you bought earplugs. Multiple pairs. None of them seemed to work and one night you had had enough when you were right there on the edge of sleep after a particularly rough day and then - a long drawn-out moan made you squeeze your eyes before you shot out of the bed. The robe you wrapped around yourself to look at least half decent flew dramatically behind you.
You didn’t knock at the door - you banged - irritated and tired but still, you chewed at your lip as you thought of how the fuck will you say in spanish that they should finally “shut the fuck up and let you sleep”. You could hear a loud bang and then curses thrown into the air before the door swung open and Javier was standing in them - Javier from the office, Javier that undressed you with his eyes every time you entered the same room as him - his eyes wild and angry before they landed on you. All of the fire in his eyes disappeared and a toothy grin replaced his scowl. He leaned one arm on the doorframe - his bicep flexing with the movement.
His hair was disheveled and he didn’t have any of his significant half-unbuttoned shirts on. His chest was broad, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and his golden skin glowed in the low dim light in the hallway. The tight jeans he wore stuck to him like a second skin - he didn’t zip them in the hurry to get to the door. You could see the sparse hair leading from his belly button growing thicker the lower and lower you went - you must have gaped at him like a fish before you gulped.
He wasn’t any better though - his eyes dragged over the naked expanse of your skin and as his eyes trailed higher. He was sure you weren’t wearing anything underneath that flimsy robe. A peak of the soft flesh of your breast caught his attention as he absent-mindedly licked his lips, catching his tongue between his teeth - only a sliver of the pink flesh poking out of his mouth.
“Came to take me up on my offer, mariposa?” You wanted to wipe the self-assured cocky smile off his face.
He never really said the “offer” out loud but you knew what he had in mind. Now even more so. After a few weeks at the embassy, you heard rumors about Peña, about his reputation, about who he was. You tried to pay them no mind.
“No, Javier.” The way his name sounded falling out of your mouth was his absolute favorite thing. “Just keep it down, would you?”
You didn’t wait for his answer - turning on your heel and he watched your ass sway before you closed the door of your apartment.
He fucked the girl that was in his place harder than he ever fucked anyone in his life that night.
So that you knew what you were missing.
The way you glared at him the next day was definitely worth it.
But you also knew Javier - how he cared for those who were close to him, how the only thing he “ate” all day was coffee and so you had to almost shove any form of food into him - not that he minded - how his eyes crinkled when you cracked one of your stupid jokes that weren’t even that funny - he seemed to think otherwise.
So you were somewhat friends. You went out to drink away your thoughts, sorrows and feelings together. An unhealthy coping mechanism that you seemed to learn from Javi after the first year and a half you spent in Colombia.
You always went into that one filthy bar - quiet but with a sticky floor with not a lot of people around - somehow, Javier always found a girl that he would take home that night in it still. He was tall, broad, charming, he knew the way around with ladies - compliments forming and falling easily off his silver tongue. They seemed to be pulled towards him by his sheer presence in the room. He didn’t even have to try.
You hated the way your heart tightened in your chest whenever a pretty woman caught his attention - he always quickly stubbed his cigarette down with a quick apology that he’d be right back. His walk was confident and self-assured, his body language lose when he talked to them.
To make things worst he always had this soft look in his eyes when he asked if you were okay with him leaving. Oh, his brown eyes that always looked at you with such curiosity and interest. Those eyes made you feel like you were in another world. Looking into them - looking into those prettiest brown eyes, the eyes that you loved the most - made you feel like dying and feeling alive at once.
Even when some of them almost pulled his arm off as they tried to get him out and to wherever they would get more acquainted with one another, he still waited for your answer. Every time, you offered him the same tight-lipped smile and quick nod as you shooed him off. The imprint of his smile he always offered you in gratitude felt like a punch to the gut - as if he broke all of your ribs to get to your heart and squeezed until no blood remained in it after it stopped functioning completely.
But even if you wanted to give in - learn and feel his touch, find out if the girls were faking all of the moans and gasps or if he was really so skilled - you never dared to. Refusing to become another woman who would have to leave eventually and never look back. You wanted more than that. Because you knew Javier.
And you wanted all of him, not just a piece that he would offer and then rip it from you.
So you never acted upon the feelings you developed over the years - staying somewhat friends with the Texas man would have to be enough. Had to be.
Things changed after almost two and a half years. After he came late at night knocking on your apartment door and you sleepily opened it - the tiredness leaving your body as your eyes widened at his state. He was drunk - that was clear. He hiccuped and stumbled into your place when you opened your door wider.
There was no exchanging of words that night. He planted face-first onto your couch and fell asleep almost immediately - his soft snores filling the silent room. You draped your favorite light blanket around him that night - the one your sister gave you as a Christmas present. Javier always made fun of it. It was an ugly thing really - she said that it was compensation for an ugly sweater as she couldn’t find any. And yes, it was hideous - it looked like it just came from some dumpster - but you loved it nonetheless.
Something changed between the two of you the next morning. When you came into the living room he was still lounging on your small couch - his long legs dangling from the edge of it. You laughed as he groaned, his eyes tightly shut, one of his arms draped over his forehead. When he slowly sat up his head spun and he mumbled something about “never drinking again” - you laughed some more at that.
You didn’t ask why he drank so much - you knew it was because of something more serious than just simply wanting to get shit-faced. If he wanted to, he’d tell you. Eventually.
You passed him some painkillers for which he offered you a grateful smile - throwing his head back as he swallowed them. The only thing that could be heard in the room was the coffee machine as you stared at each other. He looked different in the morning - peaceful, soft. Things he didn’t want anyone to see.
You cleared your throat, saying that you will quickly hop in the shower while he can choose what are you two going to have for breakfast - the book you’ve written your favorite recipes in kept on the lowest shelf in the kitchen cabinet right above the stove. You were stocked with all sorts of ingredients as you like to cook a lot. He nodded as he watched you softly shut the door behind you.
The recipe book was old and rusty - the pages of it covered in smudges, the corners of them sometimes torn off. He wasn’t sure if it was yellow because it came in that color or if the was white before and it just yellowed over time. He flipped the pages quickly - honestly, he’d eat anything you’d cook as he often said you should have opened your own restaurant and not waste your time behind the desk. You always brushed these comments off with a small smile. A dried-up rose layed between the pages. He softly grabbed it and inspected it - his heart lurching into his throat when realization dawned on him. He gave you the rose. A long time ago.
Steve always bought Connie a bouquet of flowers every Friday -a habit he kept even after all the years spent with her. It was sweet, really. Romantic. You eyed the different flowers - a small flicker of yearning danced in your eyes. Javier noticed. Of course, he did. One day he came over to your desk, one of his hands behind his back and you threw him a curious look before he brought the single white-petalled rose in front of your face. The big grin you gave him and the quiet “thank you, Javi. I love it” made his entire week.
So he didnn’t know how long he had been standing there - the tip of his fingers delicately brushing over the dried-up white petals until you called his name, coming over to him.
“You kept it.” You threw him a confused look, your eyes widened when he backed you up against the kitchen counter - the small of your back hitting the edge of it. He caged you in, his hand coming to lay on the counter next to your side, the other one showing you the rose and you gulped.
“Yeah, I kept it.” You whisper and something in his chest shifted back then, his eyes softening. You held your breath when his chest brushed up against yours, his nose almost bumping with yours. You could see every freckle on his skin, his long eyelashes, the curve of his nose. Your lips nearly touching.
And then the phone rang and he closed his eyes in irritation, taking a deep steadying breath. He moved away from you and you slipped away from him quickly- your heart almost jumping out of your chest. You picked it up with shaking hands, looking over at Javier who put the rose back into its place.
“Hey, Steve. Yeah-yeah, I’ll be there in ten. Yeah, I will go over to Javi’s to kick him out of bed. See you.”
His jaw ticked when you hung up. He was going to kill Murphy.
He stopped seeing every and each of his lady friends after that day. If he wanted any information he’d meet them on neutral ground - sometimes offering to buy them a drink or two. But nothing more. He stopped picking up random girls at the bar too.
And somehow, he felt happy. Mind shockingly happy - like a kid that wished really hard for a present under the Christmas tree and got it. He cared for you - the realization hitting him in the back of the head like a fucking bullet. And you cared for him - took care of him, fed him and made him feel fucking alive and happy and thriving. You were the one that got drunk with him and never asked questions, and listened. You had to feel something if you kept the stupid rose after the years. Right?
But Javier overthinks things easily and just as easy as it was to imagine somehow a happy and safe future with you, it was just as easy to imagine scenarios - where in every one of them - he was the jackass who’d hurt you. And he couldn’t have that. No, no, no.
So he keeps his distance - still talks to you and keeps being friendly, but neither of you talks about the morning when you almost kissed. You were confused and hurt. He played with you but you couldn’t be angry at him. He never tried anything again after that on you. Even though this thing you two had between you kept simmering under the surface and he tried to ignore it. As have you.
But Javier is just a man - impulsive and quick to jump to conclusions. When he sees red? He acts. And right now he sees red as you talk to one of the other agents - he can hear your soft laugh and can see the way you grip the man’s arm as you laugh some more. What is even so funny? The muscle in his jaw ticks as he grips the edge of his desk tighter in his hold and Steve wants to laugh at his partner.
He takes pity on him and when he stands up he places one of his big hands on Javier’s shoulder which he wants to shrug away -his gaze lingering on you.
“You should ask her out, Peña.”
Javier almost breaks his neck with the speed he looks at Steve. Did he hit his head? Since when is he telling him what to do with women? Javier scoffs - an ugly twisted snarl adorns his lips. Like a wolf barring his teeth to its prey.
“Since when do you tell me what and what to not do when it comes to our lady co-workers?” Steve sighs and squeezes Javier’s shoulder tighter making his dark-haired partner look at him.
“We both know she isn’t just a co-worker to you, Peña.” He hisses at him, the grip on his shoulder loosening. “Now go ask her out before someone else will.”
And maybe it’s the first time in his life that Steve is actually right. He was fucking exhausted of playing this game of cat and mouse with you.
Javier’s legs act quick and his mind can’t seem to catch up with his actions before he is standing at your desk. When he arrives the other man bids you a quick goodbye before he scatters away under Javier’s intense gaze.
“Do you need something from me, Javi?” You offer him a small smile - so different from the first time you two met and he thinks: “yeah, you”.
His tongue sits heavy in his mouth and just now he finds out he actually doesn’t know how to do this. This dating thing. For fuck’s sake he hasn’t been on a date since Lorraine and he is getting old. Should he bring you flowers first? Should he ask you out with a note like in high school? Should he-
“Javi, you okay?”
Man up, Peña.
He scratches the back of his head before he blurts out:
“Go out with me.”
He says it so quickly that you are sure you heard him wrong but the tip of his ears are a darker shade of red and he stares at you expectantly. You gape at him like a fish - your mouth closing and opening but no sound comes out of it. He sighs and this time he says it slower, his dark eyes boring into yours as he reaches to grab your small hands in his.
“Mariposa, I’d like nothing more than if you’d go out with me. Like…on a date.” His palms are sweaty and he gulps seemingly nothing. He is nervous. It’s cute. That this big bad agent that chases narcos left and right is nervous about asking you out. You grin as you squeeze his fingers in yours.
“I don’t know, Javi. This seems so sudden and I am not sure if that’s the best idea. With us being colleagues and all.” You try to hide your grin as he looks at you like a deer caught in headlights.
“Mariposa, I swear I will make it worth your while. Just give me a chance. Please? I will-“ You break when you see his pleading eyes.
“Javi, I was just kidding. I’d like to go out with you. You are a scaredy cat when it comes to these things, aren’t you?”
He offers you a sheepish smile, his eyes glowing.
“Kind of. So please, try to be patient with me, yeah?”
“Of course.” You throw him a reassuring smile. Yeah, he could do this. With you.
He looks around before he brings your hands towards his lips - kissing them and he grins against them when he sees how you blush.
“Tonight at eight sounds good?” He offers as he pulls away from you.
“Sound perfect, Texas.” His grin spreads wider, his cheeks hurt and his heart hammers in his chest.
He owes Steve.
For someone who dreamt about being asked out by Javier you are unprepared. You never expected that he would ever actually make a move on you - not counting the sexual ones. You can’t wipe the smile off your face for the rest of your shift. You beam at Javier when passing by him to get home and he throws you a sultry wink - his knuckles resting on his desk as he looks through the documents. Steve rolls his eyes but doesn’t quip anything as Javier watches you leave.
He had a date tonight. With you. Stating that he was nervous and giddy at the same time was an understatement. He felt a like a teenager expecting his first kiss. It felt strange and absolutely addicting at once.
When you arrive home you take a quick shower - Javier always said that you smelled like coconuts and one time you saw him secretly glancing into your bathroom to see what kind of shampoo were you using.
The water is scorching hot and it soothes your muscles and nerves. You scrub all the stress from your body and scurry into the bedroom when you are done - the droplets of water falling onto the floor as you don’t even bother to dry yourself off.
Your bedroom is a big space - the same as Javier’s and Steve’s and anyone who lives in the same apartment building as you, really. You open your closet which was built by Javi and Steve - both of them complaining “why the fuck would you need such a big closet if you live alone” and as you replied “because I like them big” Javier choked on seemingly nothing sending you a quick glare, his Adam’s apple bobbed and it seemed he started sweating even more after that.
You and Connie watched as they argued because, of course, neither of them needed the instructions. Glass of wine in your hands.
It was a pretty closet - cheap as someone bought it and it was too big to fit into their living space and they wanted to get rid of it. Made from mahogany wood, the doors of it had two birds on each side carved in it. Vintage and fitting into your bedroom - you even got a carpet with it for free, the one you were currently standing on.
As you pondered on what to wear you suddenly realized you didn’t know where was Javier taking you. Dancing? On a dinner? To a bar just for drinks? After a while of just checking through your wardrobe you decided to wear a sundress - it was too hot, even at night, to wear anything else, to be honest. It was a light green color - patterned with white flowers and the seam of it reached just below your knees. Backless with long sleeves. Cheeky but modest. Your mouth quirked upwards as you looked at yourself in the mirror.
A knock echoes through the apartment and you look at the watch in the kitchen when coming to answer the door -precisely seven. When you open the door your breath hitches.
Javier stands there with a bouquet of white roses - his face hidden behind them. He has his leather jacket on, his signature tight jeans on but you’ve never seen the pink shirt on him before. It suits him. He peaks at you through the flowers and his jaw sets - his eyes raking up and down your form, multiple times before he passes the roses to you.
“Thank you, they are beautiful, Javi.” You get an instant response, his hands now in his pockets.
“You are beautiful, mariposa.” His baritone raspy. He was used to you were pencil skirts, blouses, jeans and shirts when you went out. Never has he seen a dress on you even after three years. He prayed to all saints out there that you would wear only dresses from now on.
You flash him a grin before you quickly disappear inside to throw them into a vase. He has to clear his throat when he realizes that he can see the whole expanse of your back - the swell of your ass disappearing under the fabric but if the cut would be a little deeper he could definitely see that as well.
“Wear some comfortable shoes. I am gonna show you the beauty of Bogotá tonight.”
You link your arm with his as you softly shut the door.
You talk and laugh and jab at one another. The cool night air makes you shiver - you thought it would be a lot warmer than this. Javier drapes his jacket over you even as you fuss that he doesn’t have to.
You walk - it could be miles - but you don’t really pay it no mind as times fly by. You pass the few spots Javier wanted to show you - a pretty lake that reflected the moon shone under its light, looking like a silver liquid- a few daisies growing near it and you picked them, and after a while Javier even allowed you to put one behind his ear after you pleaded him. The spot where they served the best arepas in the city - Javier said so - and you had to agree as both of you munched on them, comfortable silence falling over the two of you.
It wasn’t awkward as you thought it might have been - you know a lot about each other but somehow you still find new things to talk about. You learned that he liked to paint when he was younger and enjoyed horseback riding with his pops. That he was mama’s boy - his tone softening as he talked about her. You squeezed his hand, telling him it was okay if he didn’t want to talk about it. But he did. Somehow, he wanted you to know everything about him. You took everything he gave and never wanted more and he felt at peace when with you. You found out that he grew up on a ranch and that he was a dog lover - he had a border collie that followed him everywhere when he did his morning chores - feeding the chickens and such.
The final spot of the day’s date was a pretty place with a view from which you could see the whole Bogotá, surrounded by trees and his truck parked there
Both of you lean against the hood - you pull his jacket around you tighter. It smells like him and you realize that after the years you don’t mind the smell of cigarettes. It’s soft and warm and it feels entirely like him.
“So, will you ever tell me about your little Texas boyfriend?” He cuts off the silence with his question and you cock your head to the side.
“Since when do you know I had Texas boyfriend?” He shrugs his shoulders as he brings the cigarette to his lips - blowing the smoke away from you.
“You told me the first time we’ve seen each other. You said that you will not fall for my Texas charm - “been there done that”. He quotes and you laugh breathily. He stubs the cigarette under his foot. The gravel under him crunches.
“You remember that?”
“I remember every little thing you say to me, mariposa.”
The air thickens with his confession as you look into his eyes. He is gorgeous under the dim moonlight. His hair blows in the soft wind. You reach to take the daisy from behind his ear and twist it between your fingers. The contact your skin makes with his when you reach behind his ear results in goosebumps erupting all over his body.
“I think a talk about ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends is more suited for a second date. Don’t you think?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.
“You want to go on a second date with me?” It surprises him - really. He expected…he actually doesn’t know what he expected but second date wasn’t it. He ignores the way his heart skips a beat.
“Yeah, don’t you?” Your eyes are hopeful and he doesn’t understand how you could think he wouldn’t want to go on another date with you.
He was smitten with you from the first time he laid his eyes on you. With your sharp tongue and wicked sense of humor, and how you love to call him out on his bullshit, how your nose wrinkles when you laugh and you throw your whole body forward - always needing to bang your hand against something, whether it was your thigh, table, his shoulder.
“I’d love to.” You grin and he mirrors it before you lean away from the hood as does he. It’s late and you are tired - even though you do not want this night to end. You yawn and Javier claps his hands together as he opens the door of the car you.
The car ride passes in comfortable silence as you keep sneaking glances when you think he isn’t looking.
You look at his sharp jawline and aquiline nose, his hand that grips the steering wheel - watching how he drums his long thick fingers against it and you lick your lips as you trail your eyes over the veins on the back of his hand. You take a sharp intake of breath as he places the other hand on your thigh after a while. You look at him but he doesn’t even glance at you, you can see how he becomes tense and when you don’t push his hand away he relaxes again, his thumb stroking idle circles on top of your covered flesh.
It passes quickly and before you know it you are outside the door of your apartment and he is pulling you closer by the small of your back. You put a finger on his lips when it looks like he is ready to kiss you senseless and you giggle, grabbing him by the chin and you turn his head to the side.
“I don’t kiss and tell on the first date, Peña. You will have to work for it.” You whisper against the skin of his cheek and his grip on you loosens as he feels the ghost of your lips against his flesh before you kiss him under the hinge of his jaw. The kiss imprints into the core of his bones.
Before he can say or act you are already closing the door of your apartment - he can hear the giggles that leave your mouth behind them. The muscle in his jaw ticks, his hands ball into fists as he stares at your door.
Seconds pass. Minutes. Maybe hours. He isn’t sure as he seems to be glued to the spot outside of your door.
When he finally moves he closes the door behind him forcefully. He feels so fucking worked up. And you didn’t even touch him. What were you doing to him? For fuck’s sake.
He stumbles into his place as he tries to tear his jeans from him. He fumbles with the zipper and button of his jeans and falls onto the couch as he quickly tries to undress. The jeans are thrown somewhere behind him and he tugs at his cock a few times, hissing as he swipes his thumb across the sensitive head - a spurt of precum falling out of it. He tries to imagine your small hand around his cock. Your slender fingers gripping him and pumping him from all he has. He groans when he squeezes the base of him and he thinks of how you looked tonight.
All pretty and soft when he held your hand in his. His brows furrow when he thinks of how your skin heated up under his touch when he placed his hand on the small of your back. How your dress showed all of your curves and how you laughed - your nose wrinkling. His movements speed up, he concentrates on how you smelled and moved. He thinks how you wouldn’t be able to grip all of him in your small hand - would you try to put all of him in your mouth or would you just suck and lick the tip of him while you would pump the rest of him? The roughness of his own hand isn’t ideal and it is hard to imagine your softer one - his eyebrows furrowing even more so as he concentrates, the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth.
And fuck, you care for him. You truly care for him. You listen - really listen- and let him talk your ear off. You never judge him. And that’s why he is so fucking attracted to you. Because Javier just wants someone who will care for him and provide him with not only physical but also psychical comfort. And you are that someone.
He groans, his head thrown back as the pleasure builds in the pit of his stomach - twirling up the column of his spine. He is not quiet and his eyes roll into the back of his head when he hears the squelching sound of his hand stroking his cock - pretending that it was your pussy making the noise while riding him. He smears the precum around his cock - the glide over the hard hot flesh easier. He thinks about how would you sound screaming his name and a needs curls in his belly - primal and hungry. He finds a steadier and firmer pace and the muscle on his forearm and bicep flex with each stroke.
He is covered in a thin sheen of sweat and he feels he is so fucking close - so close - his eyes tightly shut. The pleasure builds and builds - liquid warm and full of aching desire for you growing with each slick movement of his wrist. Long smooth strokes are deliberately made, his thumb running over the head, his grasp tightening on the base of his aching cock. His muscular thighs lift off the sofa, the muscles underneath his softer belly pull tighter with each second as he fucks up into his fist. His feet are firmly planted on the couch and he pretends you are there with him - on top of him, riding him as he pinches and explores, gropes and holds every inch of your body.
His balls pull tight and his cock twitches in his hand a few times before he is cumming with a string of spanish curses and your name falling out of his mouth. He keeps up the pace until he is too sensitive and he lets go of his slowly softening cock - his hand sticky with his own release as is his shirt. The back of his head collides with the soft cushions and he opens his eyes to look at the ceiling. Bringing his hand in front of his face, he watches how his spend dribbles down his wrist and his forearm - if you were here he’d tell you to lick him clean. He waits before his breathing calms down and then he slowly sits up.
And fuck, he was in big trouble. What were you doing to him?
The second date comes around not even a week later - flirtatious looks and fleeting touches scattered throughout the week when you pass each other at work. Steve rolls his eyes at the two of you but he is honestly happy for you and for Javier too. You are his friend and after your first date Steve cornered his partner, jabbing his finger into Javier’s chest as he told him to “not fuck this up”.
This caused Javier to become defensive, saying he would never dare to even try - but under no prying eyes he was so fucking afraid. Because he was him - he left his bride at the altar for fuck’s sake and the worst thing was he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to meet you.
And he never ever felt this way with Lorraine - how his heart seemed to start beating faster anytime you touched him or how it skipped a beat when he heard your laugh. How his skin felt like it was on fire under your touch, how all of his blood traveled down to his cock each night he thought of you. He felt fucking dirty and wrong for that - but alas he didn’t fuck anyone for over half a year and he was touch-deprived, your soft touch lingering in the back of his mind as he stroked himself.
He was terrified he would fuck something up sooner or later. And you noticed it - how he seemed lost in his thoughts anytime he spend time with you, your touch on his hand pulling him back into reality. You caressed his knuckles and he smiled - a real genuine smile on his lips.
“What’s bothering you? You know you can tell me, Javi. That’s if you want to, of course.” The way you offered him a soft smile made him want to kiss you right there and then.
Because yeah, he knew he could tell you anything. You wouldn’t look at him weirdly, you wouldn’t judge him. You would sit and listen and after he’d be done talking, you would tell him your honest opinion. He rubbed your fingers that were on the back of his palm with his other hand.
“I-I am afraid, mariposa. I am afraid I will fuck this up and you will never want to talk to me again. And that would break me.” He whispered, the words meant to be heard for your ears only and your heart jumped when you saw the concern in his eyes before he looked anywhere but into your eyes. Because in reality Javier Peña was a big softie deep in his core and it was sweet how he tiptoed around this thing you had between the two of you - afraid that he would break it. Break you.
“Javi.” You said in a serious tone and he met your gaze, his breath hitching when he saw how serious you looked at him, your eyes filled with adoration. For him. “We are both adults. And it is most likely one of us will fuck something up down the road. But we will try to repair whatever damage will be made. That’s how relationships work.” You shrugged your shoulders, pulling your hands away from his as one of your colleagues passed by.
He grinned. You called it a relationship. He thought it would make him scared - putting labels on whatever was going on between you. That maybe he would run for the hills because he never wanted anything serious after Lorraine. Afraid of commitment. Afraid of his own feelings. But he didn’t. He felt fucking happy. You two were at the beginning of your relationship.
“You are right, mariposa.” He laughed as you quipped “as I always am.” “I will pick you up tonight. At eight?”
“Sound like a date, Peña. Where are you taking me this time?” He grinned, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards and he wiggled his eyebrows at you.
“Wouldn’t you like to know? Wear another dress tonight. You looked beautiful the last time.”
“You like me in a dress, Javi?” You fluttered your eyelashes innocently at him and he felt a growl building in the back of his throat as he leaned closer to you.
“You have no idea how much. Makes me hard as a fucking rock.” He left with that and as he turned around he had to hide the teasing smile on his lips as he saw your shocked expression.
Oh, but you had an idea how much. After all the walls of your apartment were thin.
You decide to wear one of your more revealing dresses - the one in a dark shade of red, tight around your body with thin straps that held it in place, the seam of it just reaching just above your knees. It makes your breasts look absolutely wonderful. A touch of red lipstick completes the look.
A knock echoes through your place and again - he is right on time. When you open the door a single rose in his hands greets you but you don’t care about that right now as you admire his look. He swapped the tight jeans - which you loved - for looser black dress pants which highlighted his narrow waist. He has a nice pair of black shiny dress boots on, his black shirt more loose than the ones he wore for work - of course, a few of the top buttons of it unbuttoned. He looked good enough to eat and you have the urge to lick the few salty droplets of sweat rolling down his torso.
He eyes your figure shamelessly and almost chokes when he sees the dress you are wearing. It hugs you in all the right places and his fingers itch to touch you, your fingers brushing against his as you take the rose from him making a surge of electricity pass through his nerves. The red lipstick you are wearing just compliments your look. You look like sin itself. And he makes it his mission that tonight the red lipstick will be smeared all over him. He clears his throat as he offers you a quiet “You look absolutely gorgeous, mariposa” and you thank him, his hand on the small of your back - as his urge to touch you wins over him. He leads you towards his car, his eyes trailing to your ass.
“So, where are we going tonight?” You ask when you are sitting in the passenger seat and he grins, his hand automatically falling on your thigh, the tip of his fingers dancing across your sensitive skin.
“You like dancing?” Your eyebrows shoot up.
“Depends. When I have a good dance partner then yes.” You challenge and his head falls back as he laughs bitterly - as if offended. The grip on your thigh tightens.
“Don’t worry. I know how to move my hips, mariposa.” He winks as he starts the engine.
The drive is spent in you two talking about your past relationships as you promised him on your last date. You tell him about your Texas boyfriend - your college sweetheart. He was a sweet boy, a little shy and he didn’t like to engage much in social events. You were the one who approached him first when you saw him looking at you at all times during one of the classes you had together. He stammered and blushed when you asked him out but agreed and he loosened up after a few months of you two dating - his Texan charm slipping on the surface. You tell him about how he smooth talked you into visiting his uncle who had a ranch. He took you horseback riding. You do leave out all of the spicy details though. Javier’s brows furrow in confusion - it seemed like you were totally in love with each other from your talking, so he didn’t understand why you broke up. A quick “ah” follows when you explain that he fell out of love with you. You stayed friends but eventually, both of you parted going your separate ways. Back then you were still bitter about your break up even if it wasn’t his fault. Things like those happens. But you know, love blinded you and the rage you felt sat heavy in your heart for a long time.
And in return, Javier tells you about his girlfriends and to your surprise there weren’t many. A few flings here and there - kissing behind back of his house, exploring but neber doing anything more - before he met Lorraine during high school. His high school sweetheart. They both were the talk of the town when they announced they were getting married. The sweet, handsome and hard-working Peña boy and the perfect Lorraine who seemed to be adored by everyone. She was the one who taught him a lot of tricks when it came to sex. You listen as he tells you about how he left her at the altar - it didn’t feel right and Colombia felt like a place where he could make some kind of change. Not that he made any after the years spent here. You scold him with a quick “hey”, your hand shooting to grab his hand that rests on your thigh.
“Don’t bring yourself down, Javi. You are a great agent and an even greater man. Even if you don’t believe so.” He throws you a crooked smile, his pulse going from zero to a hundred because of the way you look at him. As if he was worth looking at. He brings his lips to kiss the back of your hand.
“So, tell me; why did you give me the nickname ´mariposa’?” you ask and the mood car shifts to playful and loose again.
He can vividly remember how you were so bothered that you didn’t know what it meant and asked him about it constantly. He teased you and each time you asked - because you could tell he wasn’t telling the truth - he told you something different. It drove you mad, you wanted to ask Steve but didn’t engage with him back then as much and you felt awkward asking some random person working in DEA. He lived for the way you squinted your eyes at him and jabbed into his chest with your nimble index finger as he didn’t even budge. Eventually, he gave in and told you the true meaning of it - and as of right now, you asked him why. He never answered you.
“It really bothers you, doesn’t it?” He asks cheekily and you huff, your hand coming to draw circles on the back of his hand.
“It doesn’t bother me per se. I just want to know why do you call me “butterfly”? His fingers drum against the steering wheel as he parks outside of a club. It was a big building and the outside of it seemed new - a big neon sign shone in the dead of the night to grab the attention of passersbys. The outside of it was made out of black bricks, and the door was made out of glass.
He turns his torso towards you - his knee bumping with the driving console while doing so. And he really does look incredible tonight - the dress pants fit as if they were made just for him and you can see the visible bulge between his legs. You look away quickly to look into his eyes but you are pretty sure he caught you staring as he shifts in his seat again.
“You remember the first time we met?” He asks and you nod - it’s hard to forget.
“Yeah, I wanted to slap you across your stupidly handsome face for how you looked at me. As if I was a piece of meat.” He laughs, his tongue poking out to lick the seam of his lips.
“Well, you looked like a butterfly - moving past me as if I didn’t even exist, your movements so effortless in those god-forsaken high heels you wear to work. By the way, I still can’t grasp how you can walk in those. Anyways. You had this green pencil skirt on and it just seemed suitable, even more so after I found out you really do wear crazy and bright colored combinations of clothing.”
They made fun of you for that - all in a good and light-hearted manner though. Not really wanting to upset you. You still remember how Javier smacked Steve behind the head when you wore a bright pink blouse with the said green pencil skirt and the blonde asked you if you were going to masquerade. When Javier saw how your jaw set and your eyebrows pulled together in silent rage he almost beat up Steve. He came to your desk later that day and told you to ignore Steve, his words of “don’t mind Murphy, he’s an idiot. You look nice, mariposa” ringing in your ears for the rest of the day.
You nod and have to agree that indeed - the nickname does suit you. He grins at that and takes you by the hand when you both get out of the car, dragging you towards the entrance of the club.
The first thing you notice is that it’s super noisy in there - people cheering, music blasting. The dance floor is a big space and even with all the people on it there are still spots where you could squeeze in with Javier if you wanted to dance. The bar is opposite the dance floor - long and more than one barman is working there, the bottles of liquor shine under the lighting that is reflected from the disco ball that lies above the dance floor. The floor isn’t sticky from all of the sweet alcohol as is the bar you frequently visit with Javier. The booths are small but cozy - a maximum of four people could squeeze in there and Javier drags you towards the empty one that is further in the back with not a lot of people there. When you sit he whispers if you’d like something to drink and you shake your head before you leave your coat on the leather seat. This time you are dragging him on the dance floor.
His hands find your hips almost immediately as the music speeds up - flowing through your veins, your ears ringing as you concentrate on the way his hips drag against yours as you grind against him.
Javier’s brain stops working - he pulls you closer to him, his hands drag across your exposed thighs higher and higher, his hands stopping just under your breasts and his touch tickles as his fingertips hover above your ribcage. He is close -you can feel his breath on the back of your neck and his mustache scrape you there, his hands gliding and groping. His hips move alongside yours and yes - he didn’t lie when he said he knew how to move his hips.
You feel him everywhere but nowhere at once - you want more and you moan when he tests the waters and one of his hands brushes against your collarbone, slowly moving the hair away from the slope when your shoulder and neck meet and he places a tentative kiss there. The ghost of his lips is so feather-light you almost don’t feel it and his other hand squeezes your hip tighter when you brush against his clothed cock that strains behind the fabric. You can feel the scrape of his mustache on your skin and feel the tip of his tongue slowly slip out from his mouth - tasting the salty taste of your skin, his blunt nails digging into your waist when you lean against him, his hand snaking to hold you in place.
You are drunk but not from alcohol - neither of you drank anything tonight. But from the sheer presence of him as you don’t even seem to dance but only explore each other. Your hands tangle in his hair and he hums in pleasure when you tug on one particular suck he gives to your skin. It will leave a nasty purple bruise tomorrow but he doesn’t care - his eyes darkening when he sees the imprint of him on your skin. You move and sway, and grind and Javier follows your lead, never once taking more than you give him. His touch makes your skin burn with primal desire for him as they skate under the seam of your dress but as quick as they go there, that quick they leave too. He is teasing you and he grins when he feels the vibration of your whine against his mouth.
He inhales your scent and his head spins - you smell like coconut and somehow…him. Sweet and tempting and he has the urge to drag you towards to small bathroom in the corner of the room. Show you how good with his hand and other parts of his body he can be, show you what you were missing all these years. And see what he was missing for all these years.
You stay on the dance floor for a while longer before you lean your head against his shoulder, your lips brushing the underside of his jaw as you whisper in his ear that you want something to drink and he nods absent-mindedly, leading you back to your booth. His hands now dip lower, smoothing his big palm over your ass lightly - the way you almost draped yourself all over him on the dance floor making him bolder. You throw him a sultry smile when he says he will be right back and he does - not even five minutes pass before he is back with two glasses of alcohol and you quirk an eyebrow at him as you see the long line near the bar.
“Hope you like gin and tonic. Whiskey on ice is getting old. Wanted us to try something new.” You thank him as he passes you your drink, your lips catching the straw and you move closer to him - his hands resting on the back of the booth around your shoulders. He splays his legs wider and you sneak quick glance at him and see the small grin - he is doing this on purpose.
Game on, Peña.
You move even closer to him, your torso twisting as your tits brush up against his chest and his breath hitches when he feels your hand land on the inside of his thigh - too close where he was getting hard. It seemed that was too easy when it comes to you. He eyes your cleavage, his eyes turning darker, his pupils blown wide as you take the drink from his hand and place it on the table, placing butterfly kisses on his neck. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands - one of them digging into the leather seat, the other stroking the base of your spine. You inch your hand higher and he should really pull it away but he doesn’t have the strength in him to do that - his throat closing on its own accord.
Your fingers quickly scatter to work on his zipper and his hand that was gripping the leather seat closes around your wrist - his lust-filled eyes looking into yours frantically. You smile at him, and he isn’t holding your wrist tight, so you slowly move his hand away, his breath speeding up when you unzip his pants and your fingers brush along his course hair that grows down his belly button. You bunch the material of his shirt and move it over his belly, he slides lower into the seat as you kiss him near the lobe of his ear.
“Want to take care of you. You okay with that, baby?” He almost whimpers at the new nickname for him that falls out of your lips. You grin against his skin, your tongue licking the hinge of his jaw and he closes his eyes when your hand snakes painfully slow towards his weeping cock - the tip of him an ugly red color, precum leaking out of it and he throbs in your hand when you take him out of his pants. He hisses, his eyes shoot open when he feels a dribble of slick rolls down the underside of him - you spat on him. And fuck, if that doesn’t make him even harder.
He is hot and hard and fucking big in your hands. You cannot see much of him in the dim light but you can feel it. He sits heavy in your palm. His hot breath fans over the front of your neck, his nose trailing over your collar bones.
“I heard you jerking off to imagines of me. The walls are thin. Did you forget, Javi? Hm?” His eyes wildly look around to see if anybody is looking your way but people are minding their own business. You heard him. You heard him every time and it makes a desire shoot down his spine knowing you listened to him.
The first swipe of your soft hand against him knocks the breath out of his lungs and you squeeze him tighter around the base when he doesn’t answer you.
“Fuck, mariposa. I couldn’t help but to jerk at the thought of you.” You smile - seemingly pleased with his answer and your thumb swipes along his tip, his hips jerking forward at the contact and you tut at him - your other hand pressures his hips to move down again. He whines, sweat rolls down the side of his temple and you lick it - his eyes roll into the back of his head, your hand moving with slow firm strokes. Just as he likes it. If he wasn’t so touch-deprived and seemingly in heaven he would have at least so much decency to touch you too. But he is lost in the feel of your hand against his, the coil in his belly tightening with each glide of your hand down his cock.
The music is loud - too loud - but the only thing he can hear is the squelch of his cock in your hand. It rings in his ears and you keep up your pace - your lips never faltering as you keep assaulting his neck and the thought of you leaving hickeys on him, marking him as yours brings him closer to his release. You mouth at the vein on his neck, feelings his pulse underneath your lips and you softly bite him there - the hand that was stroking your spine digs into the space between your shoulder blades.
The muscles in his thighs flex as he chases the touch of your hand - slowly fucking up into your hand and he feels the liquid warm need to just let go seeping into his whole being, his brows furrowing. You thumb at his head and squeeze him tighter at the base, your other hand moving to play with his balls and he chokes when he feels the feather-light touch. He opens his eyes which are hooded and he wants to look at you when you make him cum - the material of his pants is soft when your hand moves up and down. It only takes a few strokes before he warns you that he is going to cum and his fists fly to bang against the table - the alcohol on it spilling as you take him in your mouth. The wet warm feel of your mouth mixed with your tongue circling the tip of his cock has him cumming in seconds and he paints the inside of your throat with his spend. He violently twitches in you - the salty taste of him hitting your taste buds. You pull off him after he softens in your mouth and you tug him back into his pants.
“We don’t want you to make a mess. Do we now?” He doesn’t answer you, his eyes wild as he looks at you before he is bringing you towards his lips by the back of your neck - his fingers tangling into your hair.
He never imagined you would kiss under these circumstances - and he imagined kissing you a lot. It never was after you’d practically sucked his soul out. He isn’t complaining though. He can taste his release on your tongue and he deepens the kiss, wanting to swallow you whole. His other hand keeps your mouth open as it rests on the hinge of your jaw - his thumb slowly stroking your skin there. He feels desperate. Desperate to feel you. To have you. To be with you. And he tries to pour everything he feels into the kiss.
He hopes you understand.
When you part away you throw him the cutest smile -as if you just didn’t jerk him off under the table of a packed club - and he laughs, his eyes crinkling. He feels happy - that is how he always feels with you. And he wants to feel like that all damn time. When he is with you he doesn’t think about narcos or Pablo fucking Escobar and his inner demons don’t crawl on the surface of his fucked up mind.
He kisses you again. This time the kiss is softer, and not as desperate. Languid pass of tongue against tongue. As if the two of you had all the time in the world.
He doesn’t drink any more alcohol that night. Afraid that the taste of you would wash out from his tongue.
He watches you all the damn time the next day at work. The images of you last night flash through his mind. How your lips felt against his, the pass of your tongue against his cock, the soft touch of yours. He craves more, wants more, needs more.
He was shook when you finally arrived at your apartment complex and he kissed you breathless - his thigh coming between your legs as you slowly grinded on him, your fingers brushing against the smooth material of his shirt before you pulled away and bid him good night. Once again, he stood outside your door like an idiot.
He wants to return the favor. So he waits and waits on the right moment so he can pull you aside - show you that you were not the only one who could bring toe-curling pleasure to someone. He grins when he sees you enter the file room and he looks around - Steve seemingly busy with reading reports as he scoffs angrily - before he slides away. Closing the door behind him swiftly but softly.
You first hear the soft click of the door and then you feel big hands splaying over the expanse of your hips, mustache scraping over the skin on the side of your neck as he looks at what are you holding in your hands. The file is pink and thick and he takes it from you and places it in its rightful place - or at least where he thinks it was before - and you close your eyes, your muscles relaxing under his touch. You’ve seen how he looked at you today and for once, you were the one who gave him a show yesterday - being as loud as possible so he could hear. He almost lost his mind, almost knocked at your door.
He will show you that his fingers are better than any of your toys.
“What do you think you are doing?” There’s no seriousness behind your voice - he can pick up on the small smile behind it and he grins against your neck, softly pecking you there before his hands move lower, bunching the material of your skirt higher. He can hear the way your breath hitches and he grins - his tongue lapping at your pulse point, his finger inching closer and closer to your core before he turns you around. He slowly sinks down on his knees and oh my fucking god, Javier Peña is on his fucking knees for you. Looking up at you as if you were some kind of goddess and he was just a mere mortal ready to serve all of your needs. And he was ready to serve all of your needs. Your back collides with the bunch of files-filled shelves and the wood of it digs into you uncomfortably but you can’t seem to give a shit right now.
“I think you know what I am doing, mariposa. Did you think of me yesterday, hm? Did you think about how dirty of a girl you were? Jerking me under that table where anyone could see?” You moan when his blunt nails dig into the roundness of your ass as he tries to find the zipper of your skirt in the back. His gaze comes to watch your reactions as he slowly pulls the piece of clothing down your hips and bare legs as it catches on your heels and he helps you out of it. You squeal when he puts both of your thighs on the broadness of his shoulders and his head moves forward as he smells your arousal through the skimpy fabric of your panties.
It takes you a while to answer, your head spinning with the image you now have in front of you - Javier’s head between your thighs which rest on his shoulders, his wild hair in which you placed your hands in; tangling your fingers in it, how his long lashes flutter against the apple of his cheeks, his fingers digging into the soft flesh on your thighs - trying to imprint himself there. You can see the expanse of his neck and the hickeys you left the previous night - all purple and nasty looking but he doesn’t try to hide them, wearing them proudly.
“Yes, I thought about your big fat cock in my hand and how you seemed to enjoy yourself.” You tease and a sound between growl and a snarl forms in the back of his throat. What a samrt mouth you have - not for long though. One of his hands moves closer to your core and he kisses the inside of your left thigh first - his hand patting and mapping the trail of saliva he leaves with his tongue. Paying the same amount of attention to the other one as well. He worships you and takes his time - if he could stay like this forever, he would. His knees hurt under the weight of you as he kneels on the hard tiled floor but he ignores it.
You feel like you are in another world. Your breath ragged, your chest constricting as he looks at you through his eyelashes, his mustache burning your flesh in the most delicious way. You thought that maybe - just maybe - all the girls with Javier were just faking it. That his reputation was built on a bunch of fake moans and well-learned constricting of their inner muscles. But oh, how wrong you were. If he was at least half as attentive with them as he was with you right now, you had no doubt they were definitely not faking it.
“Wanna know a secret, mariposa?” You want him to just shut up and make you cum - to stop teasing you but you nod nonetheless, pathetically quickly.
“You remember when I came to you drunk? When I found the rose in your cookbook the next morning?” He murmurs as he draws patterns with his tongue against your thigh and again, you nod. How could you forget? You were so sure he was going to kiss you back then. Your lips almost touching but then Steve had to call. “I was so fucking drunk because I fucked a girl that night. She looked a lot like you and I pretended, just for a moment, that she was you. And then I went to see you and tell you that I wanted you. But this right here?” He nips at your thigh - his teeth leaving their mark behind. “Your pretty little sounds and pleas, and this pussy that is so wet for me?” He growls the last words. “This is better than any imagination I ever had. Fuck, you are so fucking perfect, mariposa.”
And his confession shouldn’t make your gut twist and fill with butterflies. It shouldn’t even surpsirise you. Not really. Because he tried his moves on you throughout the years. Multiple times. But hearing it from his mouth? That he wanted you so much that he pretended someone else was you? It makes a surge of possessiveness wash over you. He was yours all those years ago. As is he yours now, his head between your legs.
One of his hands snakes under your bum, the other trailing towards your mouth as he softly orders you to “open up” and you do - you would do anything he’d tell you right now. Two of his thick fingers work their way inside your mouth and you suck them in - moaning as he softly wiggles them before he pulls them out and in. And again, again, and again. Until you are gagging with how deep he seems to rach with them in your throat - your teeth grazing along his knuckles and he smiles; a twisted smile as if he was in pain, his nostrils flare before he removes them from your slicked mouth and shows you what a mess you made of them. Your eyes shine with lust and want and need as he drags them to your bottom lip. And then he removes them - pushes you even more towards the shelves so you won’t fall and his hand that was holding your ass moves to pull your panties to the side.
He moans at the sight of your slicked folds. His nose bumps with your clit before he inhales you all in. If he could, he’d touch himself. The image in front of him makes his cock jump in his tight jeans but this is about you. He wants to make you feel good and ruin you for any other man that would even dare to try and touch you. Because you were his - he knew it even if you never said so. As he is yours. You own him. Body, mind and soul and the thought of it hits him hard somewhere deep in his chest. He wants this. He wants people to hear and know that he is the one making you feel good - pissing off Steve would be just a cherry on top.
You plead his name - a string of “Javi please” falling out of your lips. He smiles - posessive and dark because he hasn’t even touched you yet and here you are; begging for him. All pliant and soft, and ready to take whatever he gives.
The first drag of his fingers inside of you makes you throw your head back and it collides with the wooden shelf - but you don’t feel the pain. You only feel the thickness and roughness of his fingers inside of you. His mustache burns your skin as he nuzzles your inner thigh as he watches you - his eyes dark and pupils blown back wide. He is enjoying this as much as you - you realize ,when a particular harsh thrust of his fingers makes you squeeze him hard and he moans even louder than you. It seems like he is doing it on purpose and it sends a thrill down your spine - if someone caught you here. He didn’t even lock the door.
His fingers work their way inside you - deeper and deeper, working up, up until he finds the spongy inside you. You squelch around his fingers and you beg for more. You are close, you can feel the pleasure build inside your body and when you are right on edge he stops. A whine escapes your lips as you open your eyes at him and growl in frustration. He grins and while he holds your gaze his mouth inches closer to your gaping cunt. He spits on your clit then and your eyes widen before a drawn-out moan falls out of your lips. He watches as his saliva drips down and he catches it - coating his fingers in it before he brings them into your mouth again.
You bite his fingers, the imprint of your teeth leaving its mark behind and tug at his hair when you feel the first slide of his tongue against your pussy. He moans under your harsh touch - his fingers pulling themselves deeper into your mouth and you feel the first set of tears make their way out of your eyes. It feels too good as Javier laps at you as a man starved - the vibrations of his moans making your thighs twitch.
He eats you out as if your pussy was his favorite meal - and it definitely is. The tangy taste of you hits his taste buds and he works the pink muscle into your gaping cunt - licking and exploring your walls. Javier never really was a fan of going down on someone. But with you? With the way, your breath hitches and you moan his name, how your fingers tangle in his hair and your Adam’s apple bobs with each pass of his tongue? He would keep doing this forever. And ever. He learns quickly what you like and what you don’t as he tests the waters. He is a quick learner and to your surprise - definitely a giver when it comes to sex.
He laps st you as if his life depended on it - his fingers moving with each flick of his tongue and you cry out when he puts his plump lips onto your clit and languidly sucks at it. His tongue flicking against it.
“Yeah, such a good girl. Come on, cum for me, mariposa.” He urges and one look at his state - his slack opened jaw, his ruffled hair, his hooded eyes that watch you with such an intensity you feel it in the pit of your very own being and you are a goner.
The euphoric feeling of it finally snaps, making you trash and spasm and writhe under his touch. Your toes curl and he keeps working you through your orgasm - lapping at what you give him before you push his head away forcefully as he tries to protest and give your sensitive clit a few more soft licks.
When you stand up on shaky legs he is still on his knees - his hand snaking behind the back of your thighs to hold your ass. He looks breathtaking like this - his mustache and chin covered in your release, his eyes hooded and he seems sedated, proud of himself.
You bring him to you by the collar of his shirt and he moans into the kiss you give him - all teeth and tongue, quick and he tries to deepen the kiss before you are pulling away. The taste of your own release sitting on top of your tongue and he grins when you start searching for your skirt - his eyes watching your ass as you bend down to put it back on you. The image of you in your high heels and panties will be kept hidden somewhere in the back of his mind from this time on.
When he passes by you to get out of the room first, he kisses you softly on the back of your neck before he whispers:
“Thank you for the breakfast, mariposa. It was delicious.” He skirts past you with a wink. Leaving a mess of piles on the ground behind him.
And you with a stupidly satisfied smile on your face and a hazy mind.
The third official date comes around three weeks later.
Work keeps you both busy but Javier always finds time for you. He comes to yours at night or sometimes well past midnight. Plopping next to you in bed, his hands snaking around your middle as he pulls you closer to him. And he swore he never slept better than when he slept by your side. So it becomes a habit.
It’s not a surprise to you that he seeks your touch at all times. One of Javier’s love languages is physical touch. Whether it’s just holding hands, smoothing his fingers down your spine or drawing circles on your knee under the table when you eat. Sometimes he comes sooner and you watch TV on the couch and read - to your surprise, Javier is a big fan of fantasy novels but he never actually has the time to read any so you read them to him when you two are already comfortably set in bed or lounge on the said couch- or play board games - and he has to cheat because there is no way he is so good at all of them.
Your nights spent together usually end up with you two making out - teeth clashing, lips latching onto each other, you grinding on his impressive clothed length. Sometimes it’s just a slow languid press of tongue against tongue in the early morning light when he is warm, putty and soft under your hands - the hardness of his walls that he builds up against him not yet coming on the surface. And Javier is insatiable but not only in the sense of sex. He craves the intimacy that you provide - your soft touch and sweet words as your fingers trace each and every scar, the press of your lips against them.
It’s dizzying the way you disarms him in every way. Making him feel so secure and whole as he opens up to you in ways he thought he never would have.
He feels desired as much as he desires you.
He drives you crazy - the close proximity of him makes you want to jump his bones on each and every surface in your place.
“Na-ah. I want to be a proper gentleman. So sex should come at least after the third date.” He said with a teasing smirk as he kissed your pouting lips and then ate you out on the kitchen counter.
It didn’t matter that you jerked him off on your second date. It didn’t matter that he ate you out the next day at work and returned the favor by giving you a mind-blowing orgasm. It didn’t matter that he fingered you from behind on your couch or that he fucked your throat while you laid on your bed, back splayed on the soft sheets. It didn’t matter that he had to eat you out at least once a day and it certainly didn’t matter if it was on the floor, kitchen counter, table, couch, your bed or a chair.
So it's an understatement that you cannot wait for your third date to finally happen. You are supposed to go to a nice restaurant - you’ve been there once or twice with other men that asked you on a date. But as Javi said, “I will make it a mind-blowing experience for you”. And you didn’t doubt it.
So you wait and wait, your eyes keep fleeting at the clock on your wall. An hour passes. Then two. He is never late. You are pacing around your kitchen - you tried to call Steve and called Javier multiple times. You knew they had a smaller op today, “don’t worry,” he said, “this should be an easy job,” he said. Easy job my ass. You were getting worried, your foot tapping against the tiles in your kitchen.
What if something happened to him? What if he was injured? What if he was bleeding out somewhere right now? What if he was-
A soft knock stops the train of your thoughts. Three knocks, the last one lighter than the other. Only one person knocks like that and you almost trip on your own feet as you hurry to open up the door. And he is standing there. Alive.
But he doesn’t look like your usual Javier. His clothes are drenched - the rain pouring outside heavy. It sticks to him - his clothes. His hair sticks to his forehead a few strands of it fall in front of his eyes. You see the difference in his posture, the haunted look in his eyes. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, what to do with himself. He doesn’t even know why he came to you in this fucked up state. And he wants to leave - he doesn’t want you to see him like this. But before he can get a sound out of his mouth, the hushed and broken “sorry” stuck in his throat, before he can move his heavy limbs, you are pulling him in, softly dragging him on the couch. And as before - you don’t ask. You just wait. Wait if he says something, wait if he needs something, wait if he wants you with him right now.
The realization of it makes him want to rip open his chest and give you his scarred and broken heart. Because you own it. It’s yours, if you will have it.
His body acts quicker then his mind can catch up and he is pulling you in - his strong arms winding to hold you close to him. And you don’t protest, you just hug him back, your fingers dancing across the broad expanse of his back. He breathes you in - coconut, vanilla, mango. It grounds him. Knowing that you are here. With him. Next to him. For him.
“They-they killed them. I fucked up. Fuck-“ He hiccups. “I fucked up, mariposa.” His hold on you tightens as you shush. The slow beat of your heart drums against his ear.
You rock him back and forth and he feels like a little kid again. As if he was five again and his mother kissed the bruise on his knee from when he fell off his bike. He feels wanted. Safe. Home. Neither of you know how much time has passed as he slowly pulls away from you. His nose brushes against yours, his eyes bore into yours and the mellow look you have in them makes him want to melt into you.
“I need you.” He whispers against your lips and his fingers tighten when he feels you pulling away, your hands bunching the wet material of his soaked-up shirt. You want to push him away. It’s not right. You shouldn’t. Not right now.
“Javi-“ You protest weakly.
“Please.” And that’s all it takes before you tentatively seal your lips with his. He doesn’t push, he doesn’t take more than what you are ready to give - enjoying the slow and languid pass of your tongue as you hum in his mouth. You cup his cheeks - your thumbs smoothing slowly down his jaw and his hands rest on your shoulder blades. It’s slow and sensual and neither of you is in any kind of rush. His body buzzes all over, his lungs clench - the oxygen seemingly leaving his lungs and the only thing that can make him breathe again is you. He feels warmth in his chest spreading and spreading some more when you peck his lips and you are careful with him - as if he was fragile peace of art. And to you, he is.
He doesn’t know how he got into the bedroom before you are slowly pushing him down onto the mattress and his back collides with the silken sheets. He watches your form in the dim light as you leisurely undress in front of him. His chest heaves, his breath picks up, his pupils extend. He leans back on his elbows as he watches you - how your hand reaches behind to pull down the zipper of your sundress and as it pools on the floor beneath you. Another time he would have jumped at you and pull you towards him. Another time he would pin you against the floor and fuck you silly that you would forget your own name. Another time he would make you scream his name before you would even have the chance to undress. But tonight you both take it slow - enjoying the show you are putting on for him. Tonight he wants to be the one taken care of. And you know it.
You are a goddess sent from above as you stand a few feet away from him only in your underwear. He wants to worship you as his eyes rake over your body, taking note of every dip, every mole every “imperfection”. And you are simply perfect. He holds his breath when even the last pieces of clothing fall from your form and leave you in all of your naked glory. And he seems to be glued in place before you are coming his way. It feels like a dream when your nimble fingers hook under his belt and he hears the metal on the belt buckle fall onto the ground with a clink. He reaches for you as he slowly sits up - his rough hands coming to brush and caress your pebbled nipples. He feels the weight of your breasts in his palms and it is so strange how his simple touch makes your insides burn. All of it is strangely intimate. Neither of you talks, only the ragged breaths and quiet moans that fall out of your mouth can be heard in the stillness of the room.
You push at his chest and he falls backward again with a quiet thump. You rid him of his jeans - the damp material of it sticking to him and you both laugh when you almost push him on the edge of the bed with them. It’s sweet and it doesn’t feel forced or rushed. Just two people enjoying the presence of each other, the feel of their skin, the sentiment behind each touch going straight into their hearts.
His cock is hard, the tip of him resting on his belly and he scoots backward on the bed, you following the suit. The last piece of clothing - his shirt- is gone before he knows it as you throw it somewhere behind you and it lands on the floor with a wet plop. Your thighs swing on either side of his narrow hips and your wet core makes contact with the hardness of him as you smear your juices over his length. You roam and caress his shoulders, his biceps, his chest, his neck. Stroking and teasing, and rubbing. And he does the same to you, his hands squeezing your ass before they move higher up your hips, his thick fingers ghosting over them and you squirm and giggle, your forehead bumping with his the movement tickles you. He wants to roll you over, to hover above you, to fill you up but your hands move to his shoulders, holding him tight as you look into his eyes. Your noses brush against each other and he sighs - as if all the weight from his chest had been lifted - when you whisper “I want to take care of you, Javi”.
Because yes, that’s what Javier wants. Someone to take care of him, to share his passion and hobbies and life with. He wants someone to take for a ride while they will wear his yellow aviators. He wants to take someone back to Laredo, to eventually settle down. He doesn’t want to take Escobar down and put end to all of this - retire after. And he wants to do all these things with you.
The tension leaves his body as he yields under your touch, undressing his wounds as he knows you will caress each one of his scars and kiss each bruise that is scattered not only on his body but his soul and heart too.
Bodies naked and souls bared to one another you reach blindly into the nightstand as you rip the condom and slowly roll it down his cock. Javier is big - his cock is thick and you could feel it the first time you felt him in your hands under the table in the club. When you first saw him - really saw him- your eyes almost bugged out from your head. Because you had no idea how you would fit him inside you. But you do not worry right now as you slowly sink down on him, the pinch almost too much to bare.
He waits for you to move as he kisses your neck, your shoulders, the underside of your chin. You feel like heaven around him - your walls squeezing him tight as you try to accommodate to his size. He slips his tongue into your mouth when you lift off him and then slowly -oh, so painfully slowly - sink back down the whole length of him. He kisses you more hungry this time, the kiss heated and fiery. One of his hands cups your ass while the other holds the back of your head - pulling you closer as the kiss grows more urgent, messy and sloppy as do your movements.
You feel like he is somewhere deep in your stomach, the weight of him in you makes your toes curl and the coarse hair on the base of him scratches your small bundle of nerves just right with each slide of his cock. You feel every ridge and grin of him, the tip of him hitting something deep inside you. The muscles on his thigh flex when he starts meeting your thrusts and he growls against the soft skin of your neck when your blunt nails scratch his back, your breasts bouncing with each thrust upwards. It’s glorious - this feeling you both feel. It’s not about the physical proximity right now. But It’s about everything that led you to this moment. All those years of bickering and flirting, of fighting and spending your time together led to exactly to this moment. And the awareness of it all hits you like a truck because somehow, deep inside, you knew that this would happen one day. And you think he knows it too.
The droplet of sweat that rolls down the valley of your breasts makes him lap at you there and you moan, your nails digging harder into the muscles of his back when he catches one of your nipples into his mouth, one of his hands roaming to find your clit before his skilled fingers start to draw circles on it. The roughness of his fingertips and the feel of his tongue swirling on your nipple makes seizes before your inner muscles pull him deeper, the squelch ringing in your ears before you are clamping around him - falling into an abyss. You moan his name, your orgasm washing over you before you tug at his still-damp roots and he hisses - at the way you squeeze around him, at the way you hold him.
You kiss him frantically, your tongue exploring his mouth when you feel him sob into your mouth. He pulls away and your legs lock tighter around his middle, you can feel the softness of his stomach and a sound between a growl and a moan bubbles in the back of your throat. You can feel he is close when his thrusts become more hectic as he loses rhythm, his arms somehow trying to pull you closer, his pace increasing as he chases his own high.
It only takes a few more passes of his cock through the inside of your slicked pussy and your encouring words "Come on, I want you to cum, Javi" before he is cumming. He cums with a loud moan, thrashing and jerking under you. Pumping his seed into the condom and he holds you closer, his forehead resting on your clavicle, his hands tracing over your back as a shudder runs through you when you feel him twitch inside of you.
You stay like that before he moves you off him, disposing the condom into the bin and he is surprised he can even feel his own legs. His body completely relaxes when he falls into the bed with you and pulls you almost on top of him - your legs tangle together, your chin rests on his chest as you trace his eyebrows with your fingers and he smiles at you. Because he is so fucking happy in that moment he could burst with joy.
You talk a long time after as you tell him about your sister - how she squealed into your ear when you told her over the phone you were going on a date with Javier - and he grins because if you talked about your sister with him that means that he is worth talking about. He cherishes this information and hides it into the back of his mind.
You fall asleep not long after, moving away from him a little and he watches you - you are so pretty when you sleep. You are always pretty. And his. He knows you are because he is yours.
His lips plant soft kisses where your heart is before he murmurs into your skin where it rests “I love you”. So only your heart can hear it. He is not ready to tell you. Yet. But he is completely fine with knowing your heart heard the hushed words under the ray of moonlight stream coming from your window.
TAGS: @harriedandharassed
#javier pena#javier pena narcos#pedro pascal#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal characters#javier pena reader#javier pena x reader#javier pena x f!reader#javier pena x female reader#javier pena x you#javier pena smut#soft javi#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal ff#narcos smut#javier pena one shot
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I totally see Stan with a Hispanic wife/husband/spouse. It just fits ya know?
Constantly has red lipstick somewhere on him
He brings home a pumpkin for Halloween one day and spouse turns it into a soup
“ it’s so hot, doll face, what’s on the menu?” “ Caldo de Pollo” dies a little inside, Soos appreciates the homemade food
He thought he’d be funny when he swapped their plate with his unaware they gave him a mild serving of chorizos and he had to chug a gallon of milk because they went scorched earth on their with hot sauce
Likes the homemade fruit popsicles
Uses mythology/scary stories from their country as inspiration for attractions in mystery shack “ and here we have the illusive La YA-rona” ( he tries his best but he can’t pronounce most words)
He was in a Colombian prison he speaks Spanish to an extent but learns more living with his partner
Dipper and Mabel are not immune to eating caldo de pollo on 172738949272 Fahrenheit degree weather btw
You are their Tia/Tio (y/n)
The oven is extra storage to you and he doesn’t understand why you need all those pots and pans
He got sick once and you gave him ginger ale, Vic’s vapor rub, Tylenol, the tiger blanket, and sent him to bed. (Told him the next day he got sick cuz he went to bed with his hair wet)
When mad at him you scold him in FAST PACE NATIVE SPANISH and he’s like that’s hot but also slightly intimidated because it sounds so mean
Wendy asks to learn the cuss words
You did the egg thing on Stan and it immediately turned black and there was silence for a good 5 minutes while you both stared at just how black the yolk was
Family cookout! autism be damned, Ford can work the grill
Watching tele novelas with subtitles for Stan, despite not understanding what’s being said he still cries
If you HC as reader being with Stan BEFORE the portal incident then, reader definitely calls Ford Cabron in passing (Stan’s ride or die fr) (Fords got like 12 phds, he’s gotta know a couple languages, he knows what you’re saying just not why)
If you HC being with Stan AFTER then they’re like ok whatever but I am distrustful of you (also probably married to StanFORD so you’re gonna have to divorce him to marry StanLEY. Congrats on that)
Calling Stan, mi Amor
Calling Dipper pequeño and Mabel Chiquita
I wrote this for me but if you want more let me know
Part 2 Part 3
#gravity falls#gf#stanley pines#stanley pines x reader#dipper pines#mabel pines#soos ramirez#wendy corduroy#ford pines#stanford pines
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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ 𝐌Í𝐀 ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌
Gif not mine!
— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader (implied hispanic/latina)
— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.3k
— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After a major fight between the two of you, a month goes by in which you give each other the silent treatment, figuring out if you should start seeing different people. However, Javier has a problem: he can’t get his dick hard for anyone that isn’t you. So, when he sees how easily you can move on from him, he gets awfully jealous.
— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, possessive/jealous behavior, unprotected sex, p in v, cuffs, slight dirty talk, semi-public sex, use of ‘slut’, pet names (sweetheart, corazón, cariño, hermosa, etc.), praise kink, come eating, oral sex (f! & m! receiving), mentions of drugs, smoking, a bit of angst, very little plot (mostly filth), weirdly structured plot. I think that’s it.
— a/n: there’s some phrases and words in Spanish, some are translated and some aren’t. Let me know if translations are needed :)
No use of y/n.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
Javier Peña has never been a jealous man.
It's simply never been in his nature, not even when he was a child playing around with toys that he loved to share. And nowadays? Well, he had other stuff in mind that didn't leave any room for those pedestrian feelings.
As of now, he -supposedly- didn't have anything to be worried about. Specially not women.
Everyone knew he fucked hookers so good that they'd spill all their secrets in his ear, and that he was attractive enough to leave a bar with company just after a couple of minutes from arriving there. But to anyone observant, it was obvious how bad he had it for you.
Still, that didn't stop him from being an asshole.
You remember the last time you two spoke and how it turned out to be a fucking disaster: basically, he didn't like the idea of exclusivity because it involved feelings that he wasn't ready to admit, so you had called him a slut (along with many other insults) and he'd said that you were childish and sensitive. So naturally, everything went downhill after that fight.
Currently, things were pretty tense with Javier, even at work. But things just got worse when the Colombian police sent you onto an undercover mission, nothing really extravagant but still quite dangerous. And apparently, the DEA knew nothing about it.
The task was rather simple: you'd go to one of Medellin's busiest nightclubs and find out if there was a cocaine distribution line working there. The problem was what the agent had overheard from Carrillo. Not only did he knew now that you were at the place, but he also had word that one of the cartel's most wanted sicarios was about to be there too. And knowing the Coronel as well as he did, you were right in the middle of a crossfire. He arrived at the club earlier than any of them, hoping to find you quickly and draw you out before the asset came in.
But, oh hell.
What he saw the minute he stepped in almost made him lose his shit.
⩇⩇:⩇⩇
You had no business being in there this late. You'd already passed down all the information needed to your boss and now you were just waiting for the cartel's member to arrive so you could call Carrillo and let him finish the job.
But in the meantime, you decided to at least try and have some fun. After everything that went on with Peña, you felt like you deserved a distraction.
The music was loud, reggaetón reverberating in your body as you danced, eyes wide awake in case the target decided to show up. The stranger you were dancing with had his hands all over your body, holding you close to him while you moved in synch. He was handsome in a boyish way, and a bit clumsy, but good enough to take your mind off from the irritating DEA agent. At least for now.
To be honest, you didn't lack any attention at the moment. Both men and women would come up to you, hoping to get a piece of what you had to offer. It came without saying that everything about you tonight resulted appealing to the kind of people that frequented the place, being an undercover assignment you did your best to blend in. And it seemed to work out wonderfully. The flashy makeup and short dress that only accentuated your figure made you stand out amongst the rest; nevertheless, what really attracted everyone's gaze wasn't any of that, but the confidence with which you'd walk around the place like you owned it.
"¿Qué tal si nos vamos pa' un lugar más oscurito, mamacita?" (How about we go to a more private place?) The guy, whose name you didn't even know, proposed. And though the idea sounded nice, your job wasn't quite finished.
"Not yet, papi. Dame un par de canciones más." (Let's dance a bit more). He hummed in response, his hands traveling from your lower back to grab your ass firmly.
"Usted manda." (You call the shots). The answer made you smile cheekily as you lean in to him, hoping to connect his lips with yours.
However, you definitely didn't expect to be abruptly pulled back with force instead, ripping you apart from the man's hold.
"What the hell..." you start to complain and twist in the strangers grasp, who started to drag you out the dance floor and keeping your wrists behind your back.
"Hombre, ¿pero qué diablo' le pasa?" (What's wrong with you, man?). Asked your poor companion, glancing over at the guy that took you away from him.
But you knew exactly who he was even before he spoke. You'd recognize that musky cologne anywhere, mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke. Damn, even your body recognized him so well that the way his fingertips dig on your skin flooded your mind with memories from the past.
"Peña." You mutter through gritted teeth, not bothering to turn your head towards him.
"It's agent Peña to you, sweetheart." He snarls, completely blowing off anyone that would try to get in his way to lug you outside.
A new, fueled up rage crept up your spine while he harshly pulls you to te entrance, right were you see the colonel's target going in.
"Let go of me, mierda!" You struggle against him, not wanting to actually put on a fight but just make him reason. "I have a fucking job to do, so let go of me or..."
"Or what?" Javier spins you around carelessly, leaving your face so close to his that your breaths merged with each other's, chest pressed against your own as he keeps you still, his hands gripping you so hard that it would certainly leave bruises.
"I need to call Carrillo. I'm working, even if you don't believe it." You tell him, letting your racing heartbeat start to settle.
The man's eyes were dark, covered by a shadow of anger that matched his stern expression. He was always handsome, but whenever he'd get mad, Javi was hot. Although it was unusual for you to see him like this, him being always attentive and careful, though still very passionate. He would never explode, not even when the stress and tension became too much to handle. But then, you realize...
"No way..." you scoff, keeping direct eye contact. "You're jealous, aren't you?"
His reaction is immediate, turning your body again and flushing your face against the trunk of his jeep Cherokee, bending you over the car. You gasp audibly, feeling the cold metal under your cheek and his body towering upon you while he holds you down by the back of your neck. Javier's lips brush the top of your ear when he leans down to you.
"The fuck do I need to be jealous about, cariño?" He whispers lowly, his hot breath giving you goosebumps and making your knees tremble. "Eres mía, you've always been."
Ah, fuck.
Despite all the shit that you went through with him, the effect he had on you remained the same. No matter what, the agent was aware of it, conscious of how you'd always melt under his touch, he just knew all your sweet spots by core memory and what'll have you squirming underneath him. Yeah, even if your mind tried it's best to erase Peña, your body would always betray you.
"You lost your chance." You mutter in a bittersweet tone. "Now get the hell off me so I can finish my task."
He doesn't instantly let go, but eventually loosens the grip on your nape. Though right when you thought he'd actually let you free, there's a cold metallic sensation brushing on your wrist and you suddenly can't move your arms from your back. The motherfucker had just cuffed you.
"Malparido, hijo de..." You ramble, straightening your back to glance at him in exasperation.
"Don't move." He growls, opening the driver's door and taking his radio out. The agent starts to talk through it, but you're way too outraged as to pay any attention, your vision going red when you catch your name, the words 'Carrillo', 'sicario' and the place were you're at, figuring out that he's doing the part of the job that corresponded to you.
"You're sick, Peña." There's no reply to the snarky comment as he simply shoves you in the back of his truck, rather carefully, considering the situation.
You watch intently while he gets back on his seat, analyzing every detail about him. It wasn't anything special, you had seen him quite often at work after your fight, and nonetheless, now... Something seemed off.
Javier was wearing a red button shirt under his black leather jacket, from which he drew out a pack of cigs and a lighter. He appeared the same, however, you could sense the tension on his shoulders and back, the kind you'd help him deal with before, and it almost felt like he was holding back from doing something. Heck, you hated it. You completely despised arguing with him, being apart from the man almost made you physically unwell.
But that was the root of this whole problem. You were able to admit it; how much you liked him and didn't want anyone else. Him on the other hand, wasn't ready for all that. Although, despite him implying that he couldn't fully commit or correspond to your feelings... Right now, his actions were very contradicting.
Because Javier Peña never got jealous.
And yet, there he was.
Perhaps, if you spurred him on just enough and cornered him in a trap... Perhaps then, he'd be able to admit it.
"So what now, agent?" You wonder, laying your back flat on the leather sit, feeling the coldness of the material on your exposed skin and trying to find a comfortable position. "You mind explaining yourself?"
He looks at you through the rear-view mirror, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. A challenging fire shines in your eyes when you lock glances with him. But he doesn't say anything, simply starting the car and getting the windows down before lighting up a cigarette.
"What about you, sweetheart?" He asks, the fag hanging from between his lips as he starts driving away from the club. "Care for elaborating on your actions?"
You snort, gaze diverting towards the window. "I was just killing time."
The streets of Medellin were loud and busy, specially on the weekends. But at the moment, the paths were dark and quiet, as if everyone knew that there was a storm coming and they had to stay out of the hood.
"So that's your idea of 'killing time'?" He comes again, tapping the cigar out his window to leave the ashes behind. "Letting random men grope you in those wrenched bars?" You grin, still defying him with your attitude. "And yet, I'm the slut..."
"You must certainly are, Peña." You reply condescendingly, watching the road. "When I was with you, that was it. No one else even crossed my mind. But then, you? How many other women did you have besides me?"
He grunts, taking a long drag without looking back in your direction. You recognize certain spots and locals, but none of them were anywhere close to your apartment. Instead of asking were he was taking you to, the idea you previously had lingers on your mind.
Red light.
"You know, ever since we... Well, ghosted each other. I've actually had tons of fun." His eyes darkened, but no matter all the warning signs he was sending with his body, you just couldn't hold back anymore, starting to play a game that might get out of control. "Actually, you know that guy working with the CIA? Balcázar?"
Javier looked so gorgeous while driving. His big hands over the lever and muscles flexing whenever he'd make sudden moves. Even now, tense as an arrow an white-knuckling the wheel at your words, he was the hottest man you'd seen.
"Shit, he’s good..." you purr, slightly arching your back so he'll get a better view of your breasts, barely contained in that tiny dress you were wearing. "I really miss him. Hated it when he went back to New York."
His stormy glare was on you, watching closely every single move you made. Your legs were briefly parted, just enough for him to peek a sight of your laced underwear. The agent's breathing became ragged and he had to try his best to stay concentrated.
"Careful, cariño." You hear him rasp out with a hint of danger. "You really don't want to go there."
Green light.
He puts the cigarette out and throws the tail away carelessly.
"Ay, Peña." Your voice goes an octave lower, licking your lips. "Don't act like you haven't been to every brothel in the city trying to fill in my spot."
The man huffs a laugh, shaking his head in disapproval. "I know what you're doing." You look at him through your lashes, faking innocence and confusion. "But if you really want me to say it, there hasn't been anyone else."
"Yeah, right..." That mocking tone was really getting on his nerves.
"Not even when we were together." Javi sulks out.
"Then why was it so difficult for you to be serious with me?" You question grimly. "Do you not like me?"
His eyes bore back into yours somberly, as if you'd just said the stupidest thing in the world despite the graveness in your voice and expression, lazily scanning you head to toe.
"Like you?" It sounded like he was struggling not to come off sardonic, cocking an eyebrow at you. "I can't believe you just asked me that."
You lean in towards him when he takes an unexpected turn, inhaling his particular scent mixed with the leather and smoke. Suddenly, he parks the car someplace dark and empty that resembled an abandoned gas station. Kind of creepy, but you recognized the area now. It was a neighborhood located a couple of blocks away from his apartment.
"Why?" You coo, taunting, patiently testing how much he'd spill. But Javier won't meet your glance, focused on the nothingness ahead of him.
"Because I can't even get my dick hard for any other women, for fucks sake!" He howls, rubbing his face with his palm, clearly pissed.
At first, you thought he must've been joking. But the way he said it came out so frustrated that it made it hard to believe he was lying. His bold statement gave you a rush of power, knowing that you had him in mind and body, the man that made every woman he acquainted feel like a schoolgirl crushing on a senior. You understood why he was so mad right now; it wasn't only cause he was jealous, but because he hated seeing that you could easily move on to the next man while he remained stuck.
Though it was a lie. You only responded to him and you wanted to prove him that. But Javier had to acknowledge the mistake he made.
"Perhaps you're just old." You teased, "Have you tried pills for that?"
His reaction was so unexpected that you had barely any time to process the circumstances. He got out the car and opened the passenger's seat, tugging at your arm to get you out the jeep apprehensively.
"Take a guess, sweetheart." He grits next to your ear, his chest pressed to your back.
"Fucking hell..." you mewl at the feeling of Javier's hard boner firm against your ass. His hands hold your waist for a second before manhandling you to the edge of the back passenger's seat, hunching down in front of you with both hands gently gripping the exposed flesh of your thighs and looking up at you with fiery eyes.
"If you want me to say it, fine." He bites, giving up. "I made a mistake. It was stupid." Then his tone denotes the way he's struggling to contain anger. "I can't bear it. Seeing you with other men... It drives me insane. I can't even think straight- shit, I almost blew a whole ass operation tonight just because I saw you dancing with that guy." You gulp, remembering how furious he was just a few moments ago. "But let's not fool ourselves, cariño. We both know you haven't slept with anyone else either."
How he figured that out was a mystery to you. Maybe he truly was a very good agent.
There isn't a retort in your behalf. What could you possibly say anyway? He had you figured out already, he always did.
Back in the day, when you first started working with him, Javier acted like a complete shithead. Him an Murphy would give you a hard time with the DEA, always getting in trouble, messing up your schedules and bribing confidential information out of you. That's how you grew closer to him. Peña used to invite you for dinner or beers as an apology, granted that he always looked forward to take you back to his apartment, of course. Except you had heard the rumors regarding his reputation, and that was a well in which you weren't particularly eager to fall in, specially since he was a coworker.
Yet, it was all in vain. How could you ever say no to him if he'd look at you with those sparkly, deep brown eyes that resembled a lost puppy? You fell for Javi's smug smirk, the groovy hair, plus that confident and bite-back attitude of his, knowing how it would eventually end. Even so, no one could really blame you. He acted different around you, people were able to tell, brighter, more open and honest.
"See, I'm sorry about what I said..." you start, but he cuts you off.
"Don't be. I deserved that shit." The man stands up, taking a bunch of keys from the pocket of his jeans and going to take off the cuffs. "You should feel sorry for all those poor guys you toyed with while thinking about me the whole time."
You stretch your arms and massage your wrists, unwilling to meet his intense gaze, conscious that you'd fall for his charm immediately. He worked smarter, grabbing your chin to raise your face towards him.
"Did you enjoy it?" He hissed, fingertips digging on your jaw with moderate force. "Having other men grab your ass while everyone watches? Teasing the hell out of me in the office with those obscenely tight skirts and talking to Murphy as if I wasn't right beside him?" Your tongue darts out to lick your lower lip, not breaking eye contact. "Answer me, corazón."
"Yes," you respond cockily, "I enjoyed it." His face swiftly sobered, a muscle feathering in his jaw. "But I didn't think it had any effect on you, so it felt like a waste of time and effort."
Javier laughs huskily, bending forward. You close your eyes, thinking he's going in for a kiss, but instead his lips go to rest on your jawline, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck and all the way down to the valley of your breasts. As of now, you're a panting mess, already turned on by his adamant behavior. The fact that you were finally getting to feel him like this after a month or so of completely ignoring each other... It felt divine.
Your tug at his shoulder as he keeps nibbling the sensitive skin. The agent knew your body better than anyone else ever could, he'd memorized all the spots that would have you moaning and squirming underneath him, which was the case just now.
"Javi..." you sigh, running your hand through his hair.
"You're such a fucking brat." He reflects, kneeling between your parted legs. "A month ago I was merely a ghost to you, a few minutes prior I was simply 'Peña'. But when my lips are on you I'm suddenly 'Javi'?" He boasts with a devilish grin. "How convenient..."
"Mmm..." he laughs gruffly at your loss of words, his fingers hooking your underwear beneath the dress and slowly pulling it down.
At this point you're so wet it's embarrassing. It was probably due to the lack of sex you've had recently, or perhaps you were really growing fond of this new phase of his and the idea of Javier being possessive over you.
"Don't you dare look away." He warns roughly, peeling the fabric off you with a tad of your help. "Keep your eyes on me. I'll only tell you this once."
You nod eagerly. "Javi, are we- are we going to do it here?" It wouldn't be a new thing, you've done similar stuff in the past, though never in such an open space, despite appearing deserted. "Your place is barely a few blocks away..." His lips graze the soft skin of your upper leg, the feeling of his mustache raising goosebumps on your body.
"Can't wait." He stated, voice tinted with lust whilst his palm caresses your calf. "Need you now."
Somehow that made the pit of your stomach feel warmer. The rush of excitement coming from that desire he had for you had gave a thrill of control, completely ignoring how he was the one in charge of this situation. Javier carefully slips your dress upwards, taking in every single reaction you had to his touch and cursing at the sight of your throbbing pussy. The heat of his breath against your exposed core only increased your arousal, seemingly encouraging him.
"Shit, this cunt really did miss me, huh?" You nod again, basking in the contact of his nose brushing your clit, sending shivers down your spine.
In spite of your low whimpers of need, he deliberately denied you of his touch were you most needed him, simply roaming his lips and fingers over your inner thighs and pubic bone. Desperate, you scratch his scalp softly, pulling a groan from him.
"Javi, please..." he was definitely going to make you beg for it, regardless of how much he wanted it too.
"Did you let anyone else do this to you?"
"No." You breathe out.
"Good." His thumb suddenly falls on your clit, rubbing slow circles. You squeal from the spontaneousness of the action, squeezing your eyes shut for a second. "This is mine." Then he slides down his finger to slightly part your swollen lips, coating it with your slick. "All mine."
"Sí, Javi."
"That's right, corazón." He murmurs, slipping two digits into you. "I'm going to fuck you so good that you won't ever think about anyone else." He sets a pace pretty quickly, pumping his fingers in and out, curling them to hit all the right spots. "I'm the only man for you. Understand that?"
"Yes, shit-" you choke down a moan when he mildly pinches your nub. "You are."
He makes a satisfied noise before diving in your pussy, starting to lick and kiss your clit without pulling out his fingers, maintaining a relentless pace and rejoicing himself in the sounds he'd pull from you.
"Fuck, that's good..." you manage to say, knowing how he likes the praise, your hand messing up his hair.
Javier pulls away for a second, grabbing your thighs to part them further and place your legs over his shoulders eagerly, hungrily looking up at you. You arch your back, ever so responsive to him while struggling to maintain a hold of yourself.
"So pretty." He whispers, admiring how your chest goes up and down from your rag breathing, your face contorted by pleasure as his fingers disappear in your cunt, the squelching sounds of your pussy and the moans spilling from your lips making him painfully hard. "Toda mía."
Your legs were already shaking, your body being so sensitive and needy. Specially for him. Always for him. But it wasn't enough and you both knew that. Though before you can beg him for more, his mouth takes place were his digits used to be, eating you out as if you were his favorite meal, lapping you up kind of selfishly, almost like he did it for his own pleasure.
"Javi, that's-" you can't even form coherent sentences without being interrupted by your cries of pleasure. "Too fucking good."
His tongue is hot and soft between your folds, licking up your slit as he rubs tight circles on your clit, fucking you greedily and moaning graciously against your slickness. Also, the image of him between your legs was always a sight to see, adding to the pool of arousal. You start seeing white spots and the knot in your lower stomach starts to loosen as the orgasm approaches, gripping the leather seat as if your life depended on it. It's a good thing that he's holding you, cause in a matter of seconds your whole body starts to tremble and his name leaves your lips repeatedly.
"I can't- shit!" You pull his hair involuntarily and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through your core and pushing you to the edge. "I'm gonna..."
You can't even finish speaking before you're coming undone in his mouth, feeling the hot waves of satisfaction wash over you. He doesn't pull away until you're practically whining from the overstimulation, trying to regain composure as he licks you clean. When he does, his eyes peer at you, intoxicated with desire as he starts to stand on his feet, towering over you.
"I missed that sweet taste of yours." He licks his glistening lips and you wish he'd finally kiss you. "Can't get enough of it."
Your hands reach his belt, trying to unbuckle it, but he takes your wrists to stop you.
"What's wrong?" You question, genuinely confused.
"I'm taking you to my apartment. I'm doing this properly." He retorts. However, you're too turned on now to care about the place.
"Please Javi, let me do something for you." One thing that made him go stupidly insane for you was the way you were never coy when asking for his cock, looking up at him with pleading eyes. As if having him on your throat gratified you. "I need you."
He almost caved in. Almost.
"Stop that or I'll cuff you again." He grumbles, only making you smile.
"Do it. I don't need hands, I can always take you in my mou-" Javier flips your body abruptly, pressing your face against the seat, and you can hear the familiar sound of metal clipping in.
"Such a greedy slut." He fixes your dress, not without subtly smacking your ass beforehand.
"Mm, can I at least get my panties back?" You ask in defeat, turning to face him, but he was already shutting the door.
"No." He quickly starts the car as you settle on the back, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed and lips plump from biting them, eyes still sparkling from the high post-orgasm.
"Do you like me like this?" You wonder as he begins driving. "All fucked out, cuffed and ready for you to take?"
Peña doesn't answer immediately, not daring to look back at you but desperately wanting to do it.
"I do." He answers, eyes on the road. "I like you naked. And dressed too, specially with those pretty skirts. I like it when you tell me how your day was, or when you're reading quietly." His words make your heart flutter, blushing harder. "I like listening to your voice, and the way your gaze always seems interested whenever I talk about me. Shit, I even like you when you're ignoring me." You can almost hear his smile, if that made any sense. "I like you all the damn time, hermosa."
Honestly, you weren't expecting such a straightforward answer, finding yourself at loss of words. Nonetheless, you didn't need to say anything, cause sooner than expected you were being taken out of the truck, flashes of the building he resided in passed right in front of your eyes while he dragged you through the dark, silent halls.
"Javi..." despite having limited mobility, you lean towards him, whispering in his ear. "Please kiss me."
He laughs dryly at your plea and struggles to open the door. "You want that, huh? ¿Quieres que te bese?" Then he takes your arm to drag you in, closing the door behind him.
"Yes, mi amor. I missed you so fucking much." You stay close to him, your face nuzzled on the crook of his neck. His hand brushes the hair out of your face and he presses his lips to your temple.
"Hm, is that right?" He hums and you can feel it against your nose. "Didn't seem so."
You back off swiftly, keeping your eyes locked with his. "I'm sorry, Javier. I really am."
Something shifts in his gaze, a possessive, deep emotion takes over him and he decides to take you up on your previous proposition.
"Prove it." He commands, voice hoarse. "Show me how much you missed me." The idea of getting what you wanted pursed your lips in a mischievous smirk. "I'll kiss you afterwards if I'm convinced."
Instead of responding, you start peppering kisses all over his jaw and neck, going as far along his chest as the buttons of his shirt would allow you. He lazily unbuckles his belt and pants while you lower yourself to your knees in front of him, but doesn't bother to go any further. It was going to be difficult, though nothing you haven't done before, nearly forgetting the cuffs as you craved his taste.
You rub the side of your face on his stiff erection, feeling how hard and hot he was under the tight fabric of his jeans and a low groan scratches his throat. You mouth at it before taking the zip between your teeth and sliding it down, eyes peering up at him at the same time. Javier observes every move attentively, his cock twitching at the sight of your lust-drunken gaze, breath starting to become unsteady when you kiss and lick the head of his dick over the thin fabric of his boxers. You taste the precum throughout it, salty and good, before pulling down his underwear by lightly biting the elastic.
Your mouth waters at the view, jaw going slack even before taking him in your mouth. His girth slaps against his clothed belly, tip red and leaking, just as big as you remember. Shit, you really had missed him. Javier's hand tangles in your hair, running his fingers in between the locks lovingly. He gasps when you press your lips to the slit, kitten licking the top and starting to spread wet kisses all over his length, running your tongue along the shaft, his musky scent getting to your head quite fast. He loved how every time you were on your knees for him it felt like you adored him, as much as Javier did you.
And it was true. Knowing how good you made him feel satisfied your senses, every expression and single noise he'd make could turn you on and push you to edge so easily. The man was simply delightful.
“Fuck, sweetheart…” he sighs, caressing your cheekbone with his thumb when you finally suck him in. “That’s it, wrap those gorgeous lips around my cock. So pretty…”
He lets out a gruffly moan as you take him further, watching as he screws his eyes shut and throws his head back, the sound so divine that it immediately makes your pussy clench around nothing. Javier is thick. And it’s always so hard to get him all in your mouth, but this time you make a double effort. You run your tongue against the veins on the underside of his dick, enjoying the weight of it in you, the taste and the admirable sight of him coming undone while he tries his best not to start fucking your face without warning, laying his palms flat on the wall behind you.
“Shit- that’s…” he grumbles, head spinning from pleasure, unable to make up any thought or manifest anything into words. You start bobbing your head up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks to provide more warmth.
You’re dripping, feeling the slick run down your thighs and the ache becoming unbearable. You squeeze your legs together in order to release some of that need, letting out a whine that vibrates through him and makes his hips jolt into your mouth.
“Fucking hell…” Javier’s hand snakes to the back of your neck, massaging the soft skin. “Does it turn you on to get me off like this, hermosa?”
You hum in response and the feeling sends him to oblivion, letting out a coarse moan that shocks another wave of hotness between your legs.
“What a nasty girl you are.” He mumbles breathily, “My girl.” He’s practically shaking at this point, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and your nose pressed against his pubic bone.
Air wasn’t a necessity at the moment, your ears ringing and the corners of your eyes watering. He warned you he was close but you didn’t back out, letting him hold you for support. He gasps out a raspy ‘fuck’ when he releases, hips stuttering and back arching slightly as his cum hits your tongue. You pull apart just enough to lap at the tip while he rides it out, feeling him throb in your mouth while you savor him until he’s completely spent, soft moans barely audible.
You wait until he opens his eyes again, brown gaze meeting yours between shaky breaths. “Will you uncuff me now, agent?”
He huffs a laugh, tugging himself back in his jeans before helping you get up and taking the metal cuffs off. For a second, none of you say a thing, simply staring back at each other with a swirl of emotions between you. But then he says your name, merely a whisper that makes you crumble.
“Don’t do that, Peña.” You scold, turning your back to him and walking towards the couch, taking a seat and listening to the leather crack under your weight.
“What do you mean?” He turns to you, hands on his hips, pants unbuttoned and hair messy.
“When you say my name like you need me and give me those puppy-dog eyes, I actually believe that you want me for anything other than sex.” He seems disappointed, mostly on himself. “So can we just fuck and get this over with?”
“Is that what you think I…?” Javier shakes his head and follows your direction, but only observes from above. “It’s not like that.”
You take off the heels, your feet starting to hurt. “Then how is it?”
His hand goes to your chin, urging you to look up at him. “I’m not good with this… I screwed up back in Texas and I did it again with you.” You gulp, your hands tightly gripping your knees. “I don’t know how to handle this sort of things, and it’s been a while since I felt like this for anyone…”
He takes the jacket off and sits on the edge of his coffee table in front of the sofa, cupping your face in his hands.
“All I know is that every time we’re together, nothing else matters. Things feel right. But when you’re not with me… Shit. Life becomes insufrible. I can’t sleep, can’t think, fuck, I can’t even have sex!” He looks genuinely irritated. “Everything’s about you when you’re away. And I can’t tolerate to see you with anyone else. It’s like someone just took a shot at me.”
You inhale sharply, taking his hand in yours without breaking eye contact. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve came back to you.”
“Precisely. I tried not to be selfish and let you go, but I can’t. It hurts too much.” He pouts, as if the mere thought made him sick. “And you deserve better.”
Inevitably, you roll your eyes. “Don’t bullshit me, Peña.” He furrows his brows at your reply, his palm falling from your cheek to his lap. “That’s crap! You think you know what’s best for me?”
“Well shit, I’m sorry for trying to look out for you.” Javier snarls back.
“I don’t need you to do that, you idiot.” You grab his jaw, taking him by surprise. “I know what I want and I was straightforward about it,” His heart starts thumping against his ribs. “So, if you want me, take me. Cause if you don’t… Someone else might.”
Your statement stirs his pot and his expression shifts. “Fuck no. You’re mine and I’m yours. That’s how this is going to work.”
“Yeah?” He lets out a throaty growl and leans down towards you.
“Yeah.” His mustache tickles your upper lip when he crashes his lips to yours and you whine into his mouth.
It was desperate and demanding, ripping all the emotions from you. Javier tasted like cigarettes, a hint of mint and of you. And you tasted like tequila, honey and of him. His cologne was a little faded, but you could still smell it.
“Say you’re mine, corazón.” He mumbles when he pulls back for air, forehead pressed to yours. “I don’t care if you’re lying, I need to hear it.”
You take him by the collar of his shirt so that he’s sitting down next to you, snaking your hand to press the palm against his bare chest.
“Soy tuya, Javi.” You tell him, laying a small kiss to his lips. “I mean it.”
He smiles cheekily as he pulls you on top of him, spreading your knees to each side of his thighs, your dress slipping upwards. Javier tugs a strand of hair behind your ear and his fingers roam your face as if he wanted to memorize every edge of it by tact alone. His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip carefully, parting your lips briefly before going to kiss you again. This time he does it slowly, taking his time with your lips prior to sliding his tongue past your teeth and relishing on your taste, almost like he wanted to lose himself in you.
To him, the world meant nothing if you weren’t by his side. And now that you were here, he intended to make the most of it.
His hands are everywhere: your waist, hips, lower back and butt, grabbing every bit of your flesh that he could, keeping you close. So close that it almost seemed like he wished to merge into you. You made out for what it appeared to be hours, until the kisses got sloppier but never less passionate, and you started grinding against him. You hold his shoulders for support, creating that delicious friction between your naked cunt and his stiff boner tucked in his pants. He jolts his hips up, making you release a whimper in his mouth.
He backed off, his lips now scrape your jawline, neck and collarbones. You arch your back when his hand slithers to pull down the zipper of your dress, granting him a better view of your tits close to his face.
“My room?” He asks, biting your earlobe mildly.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
Javi carries you to the bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist, still finding a way to keep his lips on you in the meantime. Clothes disappear in the blink of an eye and you sit at the end of the sheets to help him take off his pants, kissing his abdomen, your dress now discarded somewhere on the floor.
“Eres preciosa.” The way he says it makes you blush, skin burning under his chocolate gaze. “I’m all yours, mi amor.”
You bring his face close to yours, infatuated with his beauty. “All mine…”
“Yes, corazón.”
You lay down on the mattress, Javier starting to play with your hard nipples, nibbling at them, sucking and kissing with his attention focused on all your reactions. You’re so aroused that you’re quite literally dripping onto his sheets, legs trembling from every light stimulation and skin scorching from desire, already spurred on by the make out and giving him head.
“Please, Javi… I- need you inside.”
He wastes no time to compel, maneuvering a hand to your lower back and aligning himself to your entrance, keeping your legs spread. You feel him inside, splitting you open with no previous warning and the tight grip of your cunt feels like homecoming to him. You hold your breath until he bottoms out, enjoying the sweet stretch he provided. Then your whole body quivers, a sheen layer of sweat covering both his golden skin and yours, a couple of curly locks sticking to his temples from it.
You watch him from below through hooded eyes, every inch of him inside you making you feel so full and complete, the outline of his fingers dig in your waist to keep you angled. You bear down on his cock, enveloping him in the warm, welcoming grasp of your body. He holds your hand above your head and leans down to kiss you again, drowning his own moans in your mouth as he draws out slowly to set a pace with his hips, the wet sounds of you pussy and skin clapping against skin sending a thrill of excitement down his spine.
You get it then, as he pours out all sentiment into you, overcome by passion. He is yours. Even though he just said it, only now does it become evident to you. This is Javier’s way of proving it.
He grabs one of your thighs and lifts your knee to the crook of his elbow, the new angle spreading you further open and allowing him to hit deeper. The impact of his tip hitting every right spot relentlessly forces you to break apart from his lips, your head thrown back into his pillows while practically screaming for more, his face nuzzled in your chest as he melts into you.
“Shit baby, I won’t last.” He warns, sinking his teeth to leave a mark between your breasts. You can feel it too, hot shots of ecstasy creeping up the pit of your stomach every time his cock jumps inside you.
You tug at his hair, a strangled moan escaping his lips. “Do it in me- Please, fill me up.”
Your request sends him right to the edge, his thrusts becoming careless as he starts grinding into you, Javi’s fingers quickly finding your swollen clit. The sole touch made you writhe and reach your high in absolute bliss, clenching your walls around him and crying out from raw pleasure. He fucks you through it, overwhelmed by the sensation. You feel dizzy, barely conscious when he finds his own release, your name spilling from his lips like it was the only word he knew, coming in warm spurts inside you. His spend is dripping from your pussy and thighs when he pulls out and sits up to admire the absolute mess he just made of you.
“Well…” he says, guiding his finger to push his seed back into you, making you whine from the overstimulation. “Hope that made it clear.”
You smile, every muscle in your body weeping from exhaustion. “Yeah… I’ll have to make you jealous more often.”
He groans in annoyance and you pull him back on top of you, spreading tender kisses all over his face, laughing in the meantime.
“Not funny.” He grumbles, despite the grin forming on his lips. Javier rolls to your side, coming to lay down next to you and immediately holding you against his sturdy chest, wrapping his arms around your waist to spoon you. “Stay with me.”
His plead is barely a murmur that filters through your ears and you’re too tired to figure out what those words actually mean. You simply let your eyelids drop and retort with a hardly audible ‘always’.
#javier peña#javier pena x reader#javier pena narcos#javier pena x you#javier pena one shot#javier pena x y/n#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction
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You made geto sound so attractive in the leisure streamer fic esp w all the tatts and piercings and rings 😵💫😵💫 will u ever do a separate Drabble w him in the same universe? Maybe not the same reader bc I like them w gojo but w another reader who maybe works at the cafe?? You don’t have to at all, I was just wondering! 🩷🩷 you just made him soooo sexy I’m obsessed with him 😌 (also sukuna was so funny im the king of the cafe!!! 🤣)
My Boss is a Hottie!
Summary: Geto Suguru is your boss, and you want him to put you in a million different positions; of course, you’d never say that out loud until your best friend Yuki pushes you over the edge.
Pairing: Boss!Geto Suguru x AFAB!Reader
Word Count: 3,372
Warnings Language, smut, pinv, unprotected sex, creampie
A/N: JENXMDJDKDK Thank you for the request! This is set in the same universe as The Leisure Streamer is a Hottie! I love Boss Geto! 🥴 bend me over the glass display case pleas!!
You stare down at the two coffee cups placed in front of you. Your best friend, Yuki Tsukumo, is watching you, smirking as you pick up the 1st cup and take a sip. You let the flavor sit on your tongue
Before swallowing, which you regret almost instantly. The espresso is bitter, and it tastes like rag water. You take a sip of your water before picking up the second cup, taking a sip of the nutty, almost chocolatey espresso, and sliding your mouth, making your eyes roll back.
“That is your stupid instant espresso from the supermarket.” You spit out as you jab a thumb at the first cup you, unfortunately, drank from. “That right there is my sweet Colombian beans roasted to perfection.” To emphasize your point, you pick up the second cup and take another sip of the delicious liquid inside.
“Holy shit! You can tell the difference!” Yuki reaches under the counter, pulling out a large brown sack of Colombian beans she picked up for you and Geto on her latest trip.
“Of course, I can tell the difference; I work with the self-appointed king of coffee, Ryomen Sukuna. I have drunk so much espresso you would think I would be more wired than I already am.”
Yuki shakes her head, patting the bag before stretching her arms above her head. “Sure~ blame your coworker for your sudden encyclopedia knowledge of coffee.” She shoots you a knowing smirk. “It’s totally not because of the boss you want to bang.” Your cheeks flush as you choke on your espresso, winning a cackle from your friend.
“That's fucking weird shut up!”
“Oh, you shut up! I can see the way you both eye fuck each other every time you’re near one another. Do the world the fucking favor and just fuck already.”
“There is no eye-fucking going on!”
Yuki narrows her eyes and looks back at her boyfriend, Choso, who is tinkering with the air filter for Yuki’s bike. “Cho, you’ve seen them, right?” her boyfriend looks up from his project at hand, streaks of grease on his face as he puts down the tool he was working with.
“Seen what?”
“My bestie eye fucking her boss!”
“Oh,” Choso glances between you and his girlfriend, “Yeah, I've seen it.”
You groan into your hands, shaking your head. “Nothing is going on between us! I swear!” Yuki cooed, placing another bag of beans on the table for you.
“But you want there to be!”
It was true you did want to be in a relationship with your boss. But there was one singular problem. He was your fucking boss! Sure, the two of you had known each other since college. Sure, you both got wasted together at bars and had cuddled on his couch countless times. He was the soul fantasy you dreamed about when you were diddling your skittle in the comfort of your bed. But things wouldn’t work out because he was your boss.
Yuki knew you had it down bad for him. And she loved torturing the absolute hell out of you because of that. She insisted that you could make it work, but you saw it as unprofessional. Plus, Suguru was so fucking hot. There was no chance in hell he would even go for a girl like you.
“You cannot look at me and tell me you do not want to see what he’s packing in those baggy pants.”
“No, I don't.”
“You're a terrible liar.”
“And you're being a terrible friend at the moment! I cannot fuck my boss!”
Yuki’s eyes dart behind you before smirking ever so slowly. “Oooh, so you do want to!” You clench your teeth as you down the rest of the espresso. “Oh, come on, just be honest with yourself! The truth will set you free!” slamming the cup down, you glared at your beaming friend.
“Fine! You wanna know, I’ll tell you! But don't bitch to me about said details!”
“Oooh, I wouldn't never!” she holds her hand. “Scouts honor!”
“I would be all over that man all day, every day, in the kitchen, in his car, on the counter. I would be in missionary, doggy, reverse cowgirl, the lotus! I would do the whole fuckin’ Kamasutra for Geto Suguru!” Yuki nodded as you took a deep breath. “I would gladly make that man a father of three! And you know the idea of being pregnant terrifies me!”
“Oh, I know!”
“I would suck that man dry! I would give him the best fuckin’ nut of his life! God, I wanna sink my teeth into him!”
Choso walked over, tapping Yuki on the shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt the horny confessions, but I found the problem; I need to borrow you away from Geto and your bestie.” Huh, you blinked, staring at Choso, who grinned at someone behind you. “Hi, Geto.”
No, there was no way Geto was behind you! “Oh, that's a good one, Choso!” a warm hand clasped your shoulder, making every nerve in your body jolt.
“Hi, Choso.” Your boss, the man you thought of when rubbing yourself under your sheets, squeezed your shoulder—making you want to crawl under the table and scream.
“Well, this has been fun! But I got shit to do! Have a great night!” Yuki was off without another word, tugging Choso towards the back of her mechanic shop.
Geto’s hand remained on your shoulder before his other hand gently massaged you. Heat pooled between your legs as he rubbed your muscles with the right amount of pressure. That soft, constant contact had you moaning, rubbing your thighs together to alleviate the throbbing you were experiencing. Oh god, was this just him being nice? Or was this his way of conveying his feelings?
You glanced up, biting your lip. Geto Suguru was a fucking hottie. The tail of his dragon tattoo ran along his forearm, moving towards his back, where the rest of the dragon was. Suguru’s other arm was an intricate sleeve of ocean waves and cherry blossoms. The black ink matched his painted black nails kneading into your shoulders. The touch of his hand left you hot and bothered, but the chill from the rings on almost every one of his fingers was a sharp contrast. His dark eyes were narrowed his pierced brow cock as he smirked. His long, luscious dark hair was in his signature half-up, half-down style, with bangs on his face.
“I-I got your beans, boss—haaaah—” you moaned, watching his pink tongue dart out over black lip ring. “Fuck.”
“Good job.” His fingers gently inched under the collar of your t-shirt up to the first knuckle. “I appreciate you, princess.”
Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers trace your skin. They feel good, so good you don’t want it to stop. So you gulp before biting your lip. You gently grab one of his wrists and lower his hand underneath your shirt to the second knuckle. Suguru's barrow eyes widened before he chuckled breathlessly, sinking his hand further.
“Fuck—”
You gasp out as Suguru’s fingers gently trace over the top of your breasts. “So, the girls are out. They're going to have a sleepover with Nobara and Maki at their place.” His words are silky smooth, like the espresso you had just downed moments before.
“Oh? So will you and Satoru sit around and play mindless, stupid video games like always?”
“Satoru is in Sendai with my new designer artist.” Suguru’s slid his finger deeper, fuck he was so close to cupping your breast. “He told me not to wait up.”
Holy fuck, was this happening? This was a moment you had dreamed and fantasized about happening for years. Ever since you started working with Suguru at a local shop before he invested in his own, he easily convinced you to join him, as his coffee shop was a cult. The two of you were always flirting with each other; having been friends for the last two years, you would do that to anybody. But over the last few months, the flirting became less playful and more apparent that you didn’t want to be friends. You wanted to be more.
So, is this your boss's way of initiating an interaction that doesn’t revolve around work? It seemed like it. And you were going to take that hook, line, and sinker.
“Oooh, are you asking me to keep you company tonight?”
“Only if you want.” Your boss's earthy, minty smell crept up your nostrils as he leaned beside your ear. “I think I would be lying to myself if I didn’t tell you; you have me curious.”
His breath tickles your earlobe, making you rub your thighs together harder. “And what exactly is that?” Your grip tightens around his wrist, and you resist the urge to shove his whole hand down your shirt.
“I’m curious to see if you were being truthful about everything you said. If you want to do it with me all day, every day. In my kitchen, my car, on the counter back at the shop.” Wetness coats the inside of your underwear as he whispers those dirty words you had said back to you. For some reason, they sound even hotter and more vulgar coming out of his mouth. “I want to put you in missionary, doggy, reverse cowgirl. Fuck I want to try stuff, I’ve never tried with another person.” His whole hand slides under your shirt, cupping your breast. “I say we buy a copy of the Kamasutra. We try every fucking position in there.”
“F-Fuuck.”
“So what do you say, Princess? Should we take this back to my place?” His teeth take your earlobe between his teeth, making you gasp as you arch your back. “Are you going to give me the best fuckin’ nut of my life?”
“Oh~ you bet your ass I am.”
Your boss chuckles deeply into your ear, releasing the sensitive lobe from his mouth. “Hit me with your best shot, Princess.”
Suguru regrets those words an hour later as you lower yourself slowly, backing up on his cock, as your bent over the empty glass display case in the shop. You had not given him the best nut of his life not once but twice so far. Once with your delightful, talented mouth and the second from you just grinding on him. He felt like a fucking teenager, and goddamnit, he fucking loved it.
There was some enchantment about you. You always drew him like a moth to the flame. Whenever you were, he knew it would be a great day. You were like his personal ray of sunshine, brightening his day wherever he went. Everyone teased him at the shop, asking him if he was going on a date with you, and you both were strictly on business. But lo and behold, he wanted to take you out on a date. He couldn’t bring up the courage to ask you.
It was hard enough for him to ask you to leave your job at the coffee shop you both met at to join him on an adventure of opening his shop. He thought he would say, but you agreed. He felt that there might be something there between you. That was both exciting to explore but also terrifying at the same time.
Now here you both were, your face pressed against the glass display case, with his cock buried deep inside of you, stretching you out with his fat cock. Suguru can’t help but grab your waist, squeezing it gently, savoring the moment. It wasn’t like he would let this be a one-time thing. He had just purchased the Kamasutra, which would be delivered the following day. This was the beginning of a very long and satisfying relationship. One that had started with friendship and was now turning into something more.
“Haaah fuck~ fuuuck baby.” Suguru groans, pressing you further against the glass case, watching as it fogged up with your heavy panting. “You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about this.”
“Nnnhh,” you turn your head, looking back at him with a smirk. “Fuck~ I could say the same thing about me. Is that way you would have such long meetings in your office with nobody?”
Suguru pulls out, his eyes glancing down at the cock wet with your spit and arousal. “Yeah, it is.” He shoved all the way back inside of you, making you yelp. “Is that way you’re always late returning from your lunch break? Don’t tell me you’ve been rubbing that pretty little clit in your car.”
Your palms press against the cool chill of the glass underneath you. “Rubbing it~? Oooh no, but I do put my vibrator on it.” Suguru’s grip on your waist tightens as he groans out with a huff from behind you.
“You’re so fucking hot. Is that why you didn’t let me in your glove box that one time? You keep an emergency vibrator in there when you come to work?” His cock begins sliding in and out of your tight walls hugging him snuggly with each jerk of his hips.
“Oh~ I’m cumming alright.”
Suguru’s hips buckled, eyes going wide before he growled, shoving himself deeper inside of you, forcing your hips back. Being filled to the brim made your eyes widen as you hissed out a whine through your teeth. His thick pulled out before slamming back into you with such force your fingers grabbed the edge of the cool counter.
“God, you're such a dirty girl. I fucking love it!” He growled, snapping his lips forward, pushing you harder into the glass. “Next time you get all hot and bothered, come see me~ I’ll fuck you so good.” He leaned his head down, humping slowly against your ass with slow thrusts that hit every sweet spot inside of you. “You could even bring your vibrator~” his teeth snapped gently, tugging at your ear.
“Holy—” your eyes rolled back as Suguru’s hips had your clit rubbing against the smooth glass. “I-I’m dirty~ listen to—hnnngh!” His teeth tugged at your earlobe, silencing your retort. “Oh my god~! Ooooh, my fucking god Sugu!” You rocked yourself back against him, his kisses and nips at your sensitive ear and neck driving you mad.
A shaky chuckle sounded from your boss, “You’re sensitive, aren’t you, princess~?” You answered with an eager whimper and nod before looking back at him.
His tongue ran over his lip piercing as his ring-covered fingers slipped down, groping the fat of your ass. The cool metal, the way his slick cock slid in and out of you faster and harder, had your eyes rolling back as your walls tightened around his cock. Suguru growled; one of his eyes twitched slightly as your walls tightened around him, squeezing his cock with almost pained pleasure. He was drowning in you and your tight cunt.
Suguru pressed his whole body against your back, bucking into you; his thrusts were hard and fast, pushing you closer to your release. Suguru’s hands slammed on either side of your head, keeping himself up not wholly to crush you under his weight. His right hand slid up, covering yours with his own, his fingers intertwined with yours, holding your hand as he fucked his cock deeper into you.
“S-Sugu~!” You cried out, turning your head to meet his. “Suguru~!”
His lips caught yours, kissing you as he squeezed your hand tight, his hips buckling as he felt you getting closer and closer. Your walls hugged him, making you squeak as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. The chill of his piercing against your lips and his tongue wrestling yours for control had your eyes shut tight as you squeezed his hand back.
“Oh~ fuck- mmmm—“ Suguru’s orgasm was fast approaching, his once well-patterned thrusts becoming messy and frantic. “Fuck—cum with me, please, Princess.”
You kissed him harder, gasping against his lips, breathing hard. “Gonna cum~ Suguru harder~ harder!” Your grip on his hand is almost crushing as he does exactly as you ask. His hips bucking yours as hard as he can the display case, shaking under each frantic thrust. Your eyes shut tight as Suguru rests his mouth against your cheek, moaning as loudly as you were. His breath is hot, and his dress is messy, and you can’t stop it from happening. “C-Cumming!” You scream as your walls convulse around his cock, squeezing the loving life out of him.
“Fuck!” Suguru hisses out. “Haaah~ ooooh! Fuck that’s right cum on my cock. He whispered against your cheek as pleasured cries filled the room. “Yeah~ yeah fuck~ gonna cum~ you want it?” All you can do is scream out, nodding, legs shaking as your orgasm keeps rocking through you. That is what has your boss’ balls slapping against your clit as he fucks himself into his orgasm. “N-Nnngh!” Suguru's face presses harder against yours as his cock throbs with every spurt of cum he thrusts into you.
You blinked slowly, humming happily as Suguru stayed buried inside of you, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. This was everything you wanted, and more, like your dream, finally came true. Suguru sighed, nuzzling his face in your neck as his heart rate slowed.
“Remind me to thank Yuki for pushing your buttons the next time I see her.”
“Heh~ you and me both.” You wince as Suguru slowly pulls out of you, his hand sliding your hips to help steady you as you stand up. “Fuuuck, that was amazing.”
“Mhmm, you’re amazing.” Suguru wraps his arms around your waist. “Would you be opposed to round three in the shower? That way, I can thoroughly clean you up~”
Your arms snake around his neck as you bite down on your bottom lip. “I would not be opposed to that at all.” Suguru leans down, his lips inches from your own, as a chime sounds above you. Both your eyes go wide as you listen to stomping through the kitchen. Nanami storms through the back, his eyes dark with anger. The anger is displayed as Suguru struggles to pull his pants up while you shakily hide behind him as Nanami looks towards you both.
“Nanami! Turn around!”
“Oh, god, sorry!” Nanami flushed, turning away, giving you and Suguru a chance to readjust your clothing. “I-I didn't see anything! Sorry, I was looking for my idiot client!”
“He hasn’t come home yet,” Suguru says, clearing his throat and brushing his hair out of his face. “He was staying the night in Sendai.”
You peek at your blonde friend, blinking as he clenches his fists with a growl. “And he’s not answering my texts or calls!” What could be so crucial that Nanami needed to talk to Gojo at midnight?
“Did something happen?” You ask, wobbling on your jello legs as Suguru sprays disinfectant on the counter you just fucked on. “Did he say something stupid again, and you need to do crowd control?”
Nanami turns to gawk at you as Suguru wipes the display case clean. “You haven’t seen it?”
“Seen what?”
Nanami sighs, pulling up his phone and showing you both the screen. The number one trending headline on Twitter is Gojo Satoru, the headline: Popular Leisure Streamer Checks into a Love Hotel with His Girlfriend!” Underneath the article was a photo of a beautiful girl and Satoru at a receptionist's desk.
“Oooh shit.” You whisper, covering your mouth with your hand as you giggle. “Where’s his mask?!”
“My thoughts exactly!” Nanami snapped, dialing what you assumed was Gojo’s number again. “Geto, I hope you’re not too attached to him because I will obliterate him.”
Suguru sent a quick text before wrapping an arm around you. “I’ll miss him, but as long as my princess is by my side, I’ll live.” You beamed up at your boss, who was now much more to you. Fuck thanking Yuki; you needed to get her a gift basket.
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Le coup de foudre ; Gambit x Reader
summary: THIS IS PART 3 OF THE TACO TUESDAY SERIES! PART ONE HERE / PART TWO HERE! Reader is suffering, big time. She wants Remy, but he hasn't called. Post-Void, everyone got out alive and everything is fine.
word count & w a r n i n g s: 3.1K | some angst to start things off, smut with some plot (we've got an established relationship, huzzah), French and typing out accents/dialects, pet names (chere, mon ami, mon coeur, etc.), shower sex, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, no use of y/n, and some fluff at the end, because I went and broke y'all's hearts in the last chapter.
a/n: praying that the gambit fandom hasn't completely died out.... i'm so sorry this took me so long. banner by @/strangergraphics!
↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!
The first day is the hardest.
The first day is the hardest because by 1:30 PM, you realize that you’re in love with Remy Lebeau. You cry on the couch he kissed you on. Why are you crying? Because you can’t remember the last time you’ve been in love with someone, and you know what comes with love. None of it is good.
The second day sucks too because you go to work, and come home to an apartment that, for the first time since you’ve lived there, really felt empty. There’s nowhere you can sit that he hasn’t touched. His memory lingers everywhere and try as you might, you can’t escape it. You aren’t sure you want to, either, which is troubling in and of itself.
By the third day, your heart is aching, but it’s a dull ache. Something like anger has started to roil in your system, and you’re wondering why he hasn’t called, or stopped by. You can justify it by saying that you don’t know what mutant superheroes go through or what their daily life looks like, but you’re still sour that there’s been nothing but radio silence on his end.
Day four comes and goes, and nothing changes. You’re still sad. You’re still angry. But most of all, you’re still lonely.
Day five… however. Day five comes, you’ve cycled through all the stages of grief and landed somewhere on the spectrum of desperation.
So, after work, you march across the hall to Wade’s, and knock three times in a little melody. After a few moments, the door flies open, revealing a very casual looking Wade. He’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt and grey sweats. You avert your eyes from his groin, out of respect.
“Wade,” you stammer, scratching a non-existent itch on your arm. “Hey.”
“Pookie! How nice of you to stop by. Blind Al and I were just about to partake in some Colombian party powder, care to join us?”
Your pupils dilate. Was he being serious? You couldn’t tell. “Uh… no. No, I’m good.”
You shift uneasily. You aren’t sure how to start this, so you just blurt whatever comes out.
“Wade… um. Look, I’m sorry to ask this of you. I just…. I can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t seem like the type to ghost someone, and I just… I really want to talk to him.”
“You want Gambit’s number?”
You perk up, relieved that you didn’t have to ask the question yourself. Wade was more perceptive than you thought.
“Y-yeah, if you have it.”
“I don’t. Womp-womp. But I gave him yours.”
“Oh…” A beat. “...wait. How did you get my number?”
“Remember that package that was misdelivered?”
“No….”
“Yikes. Well, I do. It had your name and phone number on it. I figured it’d be useful to have so…” He taps the side of his head.
“Why did you… did he ask for it?”
“Boy, did he.”
You frown, feeling an overwhelming flurry of emotions. On one hand, he’s had your number and hasn’t called. On the other hand, he wanted your number. But he hadn’t done a damn thing with it. Your shoulders sink, unconsciously.
“Oh, sweet cheeks. Someone play some Cigarettes After Sex, this is getting emotional.” Wade mock frowns, looking off to the left for a moment before his eyes dart back to you. “He’s probably saving lives or something heroic. Undisclosed mutant drama.”
“Thanks,” you murmur, choosing to ignore his weird commentary. “I appreciate it.”
“What’re you gonna’ do now? Cue the depressed drinking montage.”
“That’s a great idea, actually…”
“No, no… let’s not.”
You interject with a finger in his face. “Yeah, let’s.”
“If you’re going to do that, let’s do it inside. C’mon.” Wade doesn’t give you a moment to reject him, and plants both of his hands on your shoulders, yanking you forward.
Turns out, Wade does have alcohol. He makes you a drink, something that tastes like whiskey. Maybe it's your whiskey, left over. You bring the glass to your lips, sucking the liquid down. It’s strong, but you aren’t complaining.
“Oooohohoh, you’ve got it bad, huh? Heart eyes and all that mushy-gushy shit?”
You throw a glare his way, and take another sip. The liquor burns better than any remark you could’ve come up with.
“It’s okay,” he says, nodding. “I can’t say I blame you. It’s that Southern charm he’s got. Handsome, slick, and he can do magic tricks.” His eyes widen, excitedly. “How could you not fall in love with him?”
“Wade, you’re not helping.”
“Sure I am,” he retorts.
You take a seat on Wade’s couch, looking distraught. You’re thankful that Blind Al is in fact… blind because she can’t see the way that the tears are welling up in your eyes. You look at the chairs that you two sat on, flirting with each other.
“Oh,” Wade says, looking somewhat surprised. “Oh no.”
“She cryin’?” Blind Al asks. Great, she’s perceptive. You swallow back a sob, and bring the glass to your lips again.
“Almost… almost… c’mon, give us a cinematic, single tear.”
You shake your head and suck it up as best you can. You don’t want acknowledgement, that’ll only make it worse, possibly sending you into a fit of sobs. You don’t even know why you’re so upset – it’s not like he told you he never wanted to see you again. He just hadn’t… well, done anything and that was somehow worse.
“Je-sus…!” Wade says suddenly, leaning over to angrily look through the peephole. He stays there for a moment, before leaning back, a sly smile on his face.
And that’s when you hear the dull thudding that has Wade’s attention. It sounds like a knock – a heavy handed one.
You straighten your spine, curious.
“Oh, this is too perfect.” He says under his breath, before taking one step towards you. “Save the waterworks, your Cajun Prince has returned.”
You set the glass on the floor and scramble off the couch, practically on all fours as you run towards the door, pushing Wade out of the way. Standing on your tiptoes to look through the peephole for only a split second, you get a visual. Hurriedly, you twist the knob and throw the door open, wanting to rip it off its hinges. It bumps into the wall behind it, and your breath rushes out.
Remy stands there, facing your door, his fist raised to knock again. He has a duffel bag on his shoulder, which slides off the second he hears your voice.
“Remy?” you call, your voice quivering slightly. He turns abruptly, his coat flaring out behind him. He’s wearing armor now, and looks like he’s just come back from something serious.
“Chere? What’re you –”
You don’t need to answer again, instead, just run across the hall, rushing into his arms. Your body hits him so hard that you let out a little vocalization, a delicate oomph, as you compress yourself to him. He immediately responds by wrapping one arm around your waist, and the other around the back of your head, hand petting your hair gently.
He smells like blood, sweat and ash, but you nuzzle your cheek into the rigid plate of his purple chestplate anyway, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso in a desperate hug.
After a moment, you pull away, just enough to look up at him. He looks down at you, his eyes burning with such an adoration that you can’t help but clench your stomach. He looks like he missed you as much as you missed him.
“Is this your superhero outfit?” Your fingers stroke the ridges in his cowl, admiring it. Slowly, they trail down the length of it, and begin to make their way over his smooth chestplate.
He laughs, looking down at you. “ ‘Spose so.”
“I like it.”
Two smiles later, he pulls you in for a bruising kiss, lifting you up off the ground slightly. You’re on your tiptoes again, smashing your lips against his and tasting him as hungrily as you did the first time – if not hungrier. There’s something extremely erotic about kissing a costumed hero, something to do with uniforms and all that, you assume, but the butterflies in your stomach go wild at the feeling of his armor against you. This time, you don’t try to suppress anything and give into the feeling of it all.
Someone sighs dreamily behind you and Remy breaks the kiss to look knowingly over the top of your head. Wade is leaning against his door frame, hands clasped in front of his chest. Short of having hearts bursting over his head, he’s silently gushing, his brows pulled together in a sappy expression, with a dorky smile curling around his lips.
“Oh, c’mon! Just a peek? Where’s your sense of fan service?!”
“No, Wade.” Remy croons, opening your door and pulling you in with him. He shuts the door with one hand.
“Now before we get to the good stuff, I wanna’ wash this day offa’ me.”
You nod your head, understanding, and reach for his hand. The bathroom is adjacent to your bedroom, so you lead him down the hall.
You flick on the light; it’s all dark tile and cool tones. You head to the sizable shower, and open the glass door, leaning in just enough to turn the knob. The water splashes to life, and steam fills the bathroom quickly.
Watching Remy undress himself is like a strip tease that has you biting your lip. He’s determinate and meticulous, like he knows you’re watching. The jacket and armor pieces come off first, and get set on the edge of the bathroom counter. Then comes the shirt, revealing that delicious torso again, the one that you’ve been longing to run your hands over for almost a week. He quickly unzips his pants and drags them down his legs before setting them atop the rest of the items. The briefs are last – the perfect ending to reveal his heavy, flaccid cock before he turns, and walks into the shower. He’s got a perfect ass, too; muscular and round. You’re pretty sure you could bounce a quarter off of it. The water splashes against the roundness of his freckled shoulders, spattering against the muscle and onto the tile.
“Chere, c’mere…” He reaches for your hand, pulling it inside the shower.
“Wait, wait,” you laugh, and retract your hand. “I’m not coming in there fully dressed.”
“Then get naked, mon amour. We know we done been waitin’ long enough to feel each other again.”
You pull your shirt over your head, and reach around back to undo your bra. Your jean shorts are next, joining the pile on the floor.
The water is warm, but Remy’s naked body is even warmer.
There’s a beautiful, tender familiarity in the way you touch each other, coupled with a hunger that can only be fueled by absence. He hasn’t had you in days, you haven’t had him; the desire has reached a boiling point, and needs to be expelled. He presses you against the tile of the shower, watching as the water pitter-patters against your skin, over your decollete, over your breasts and down the gentle curve of your stomach. He leans down and kisses the hollow of your throat, his hands cupping your hips forcefully.
“I missed you,” he murmurs against your skin.
“I missed you too… maybe more.”
“Ooh, doubt that.”
As his fingers trail along your body with an air of ownership, Remy kisses your wet shoulders, nipping at the warm, slick flesh. Despite the heat, you shiver. He has a real knack for making your body shudder. Your knees feel like jell-o, so you wrap your hands around his strong neck, interlacing your fingers behind it for some support.
His fingers dip down between your legs and teasingly splay out over your folds. His middle finger slips between them, glossing over your center, and slides all the way down, teasing your entrance with the pad of his finger. Everything is wet, but he can feel the slickness that meets his finger. His cock twitches against your thigh.
“‘Dat’s my girl,” he says, low. “Y’know, I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout ‘dis way too much.” His hand cups your cunt, as if to punctuate his sentence and you bite your lip, looking into his eyes. You shift, forcing more friction against his wet palm, the warm water pooling between your legs. “The thought of you been distractin’ me. You a dangerous woman, cher…”
“I’m dangerous? Says the guy who has fucked me in every room, on almost every surface in my apartment…”
Remy chuckles and the sound fills your heart. There it is again – that unyielding feeling of adoration. You’re horny as all get out, but somehow, you still have the capacity to swoon over tiny things like his laugh. This isn’t you, this isn’t what you’re used to. Frustrated, you bump your head against the tile, letting out a small groan.
He notices this, and brings his other hand – still leaving one situated between your legs – up behind your head.
“What’re you doin’? What’s wrong, chere?”
“Nothing...” you huff, looking over at the shower head. It doesn’t sound very convincing, but you aren’t ready to spill your guts to him yet… you’d rather have him rearrange your guts and not think about the feelings.
He smirks, devilishly, like he already knows. If he does, he’s not letting you off the hook.
“Guess I just gon’ have to fuck it outta’ you, huh?”
You avert your gaze back to him, pupils dilating. You know him well enough now that he means what says.
With that, he places a kiss on your forehead, and turns his body towards the stream of water. He begins washing himself, and you watch as the suds slowly trail down the ample curve of his back. You reach forward, spreading them over the indentation of his spine, washing him gently.
“Hoo, the way you touch me…” he murmurs just loud enough for you to hear it.
The shower is intimate and everything is mutual, cue the montage. For the… what? Tenth time that week? You realize that you're in way too deep with Remy. Way too deep, and there’s nothing you can do to change it.
Drying his feet off on the mat and allowing you space to do the same, Gambit then pulls a towel from the rack, and wraps it around your naked body. The droplets absorb into the fibers, and you’re a little less drippy. Well, your body is. The hungry, whining void between your legs isn’t.
When Gambit turns, you catch a glimpse of his half-hard cock and blush. Even though you’ve fucked it, sucked it and everything else, the sight of is still enough to send butterflies erupting in your stomach.
He can’t get you to the bedroom fast enough. His hands are on your hips, directing you towards the bed and you let out a little vocalization, much to his delight.
“C’mere, mon ami… get up on ‘dat bed.”
You obey. Why wouldn’t you? You’ve been waiting for this for almost a week now.
Before he has a chance to stop you, you’re reaching forward to take his cock in your hand. It’s heavy and hot and the feeling of it against your palm makes you clench painfully, twinging with heat. You take your time in stroking him to full hardness, swiping your thumb over the leaking tip and smearing the pre-cum down his veiny length.
Once he’s there, he’s like a freight train. Unstoppable and panting hard. He fucks you hard over the edge of the bed, hard enough to make your breasts bounce back and forth with each bullying thrust, withdrawing it to the tip and bottoming out each time. Your bedroom is filled with the sounds of bodies slapping together, flesh against flesh.
“Tell me,” he grunts. “Ain’t no place for secrets up in here.”
“It’s not important – uuhhh!” Another thrust, deep as he can go.
“Cher,” he growls and thrusts again. “I ain’t gonna’ let you cum ‘till you tell me.”
“No,” you moan, bringing your hands to your tits as they move. “Please, I’m so close, we can — uhhh god!”
He’s relentless.
“Fuck, fuck-fuck, oh my god…!”
With a slick pop, he pulls his cock all the way out. You lift your head up, gazing distraught between your legs; he’s centimeters away from you. The tip is red, glistening and angry as it twitches up, pre-cum leaking from the slit.
“Tell me, cher, or you ain’t gonna’ get ‘dis cock again.” He bucks his hips forward, dragging the fat, wet tip against your swollen cunt. You cry out at the sensation, your clit buzzing with electricity. Despite all that, he doesn’t penetrate you again, and you whimper at the empty sensation. Every time you try to move your hips to get his cock to slip in again, he pulls back just enough to put distance between you two. You whine through gritted teeth.
“Okay!”
He presses the head of his cock against your clit. Waiting. Patiently. So patiently. For a moment, you marvel at the control he has considering that his cock looks red and angry, aching to empty itself inside of you.
“Fine. I think…” You pause to catch your breath. “I think I love you.”
Remy closes his eyes for a second, reveling in the sound of you saying it. He’d wanted to say it to you at breakfast, and he’d wanted to say it before he left.
“Mm.”
“Mm?”
“Mmm-mm. ‘Dat’s what I wanted to hear, chere. An’ it sounds so good comin��� outta’ ‘dat mouth of yours.”
He lines the cockhead up, and bottoms out with another word. He’s said enough, apparently. When he takes hold of your hips, lifting them up slightly to give himself a deeper angle, you wrap your hands around your sheets until the fibers squeak. Your nails dig into the fabric, nearly puncturing holes in them. It’s only a few more earth-shattering thrusts before you cum, and before he fills you with white hot heat, the two of you calling and moaning each other’s names in ecstasy.
After softening inside of you, which is somehow extremely sweet, he withdraws himself from your cunt, and uses the sheet to clean up the mess that leaks out. He carefully lifts you up onto the bed fully, and then crawls next to you, nestling into the same space he did last night.
It’s like he never left.
“I really do, you know. I love you. I know we just met and fucked and that’s all, but I love you.”
“You keep sayin’ ‘dat’s all’ as if what we have is somethin’ casual, cher. You’re gonna’ hurt Remy’s feelings if you keep ‘dat up. So, knock it off, ah?”
“It’s… it’s not casual?”
He shakes his head. “I love you too, mon coeur. I have since I first saw you…”
You hum happily, and nuzzle yourself against his bare chest. “I finally understand that French phrase I learned… C’etait le coup de foudre?” (It was love at first sight.)
“Oui… oui.”
#Gambit#Remy Lebeau#channing tatum#Deadpool and Wolverine Gambit#channing tatum gambit#Gambit x reader#gambit x you#remy lebeau x reader#remy lebeau x you#female reader#Deadpool and Wolverine#Deadpool 3#x reader fics#myfics
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I love your idea for Hanahaki! Like you said, it's always so tragic and dramatic and angsty (and who am I kidding, I'll keep reading it), but your take on it is so refreshing!
For the event, can I request Ruggie with 15, Trey with 1, and Jade with 18? Romantic; fluff and/or suggestive, please?
And if I completely misunderstood how to request properly, I'm terribly sorry. 😬
So excited to see more of your work!
part 2: jade leech x gn!reader ruggie bucchi (15); trey clover (1) [separate] x gn!reader [tags] – fluff, suggestive [wc} – 2,500+ each prompt 15: “Sooo, are you gonna apologize for puking dahlias all over my breakfast?” prompt 1: “Why is your trash can full of flower petals? Are you secretly a botanist, or is there something you're not telling me?” note - both ruggie and trey got real long, so i will post jade's snippet separately later! a floral inconvenience
Dahlias – In pre-Colombian Mexico and Guatemala, wild-growing dahlias and their tubers were seen as a food source.
Ruggie has been absolutely miserable for the past week, as one would be when they have mysterious large, red flowers sprouting out from their mouth and head. It also didn’t help that all the other second-years, especially the twins, were giving him a hard time.
“Hey, hey Jade! You know plants.” Floyd was currently picking at the flower that Ruggie just spit out, undeterred by the spit on it.
“I bet we can figure out who Sharksucker likes if we figure out what flower he’s spittin’ out. What kind is it?
Jade leaned down to study the intense red, ray-like petals, poking at the central disk of yellow florets in the middle. Ruggie was NOT a fan of how interested Jade was, attempting to lean out of the twins’ grasp.
“Hmm, I’m not sure. I certainly haven’t seen it on any of my hiking expeditions or in the botanical gardens.”
Ruggie yelped as Jade plucked a flower from a particularly sensitive spot behind his right ear.
“Ow! Watch it man!”
Rubbing his ear, Ruggie glared at Jade, who was still looking curiously at the flower bringing his arm down for Azul who also seemed eager to identify the flower.
“I certainly don’t recognize it either, looking up similar flora, there aren’t any that are quite the same as this one.”
Ruggie could just make out under Azul’s breath, “Imagine all the money we could make if we say we discovered a new flower!”
He scoffed at Azul, rubbing his eyes from mental exhaustion. The twins and Azul weren’t the only ones interested in his hanahaki.
“It’s a really pretty flower, Jamil! Do you think we have any like it in the gardens back home?” Kalim eagerly asked, trying his best to lean in without disturbing Silver, who’d fallen asleep on his shoulder.
“Hmm, no I don’t think so.” Jamil looked mildly interested, holding a hand to his chin. “The Asim gardens have a variety of exotic and rare flora, so the fact that we don’t recognize this one is certainly interesting.”
Jade chuckled, “So, it would be easy to narrow down the person of Ruggie’s affections, yes.”
“Why are you all suddenly so interested in my love life?”
“Why, we’re being benevolent, of course!” Azul replied, a cheeky grin on his face.
“Yea Sharksucker, it must be reeeeal annoying to puke up flowers all the time. Besides—” Floyd gave a nasally laugh as Jade continued his sentence.
“—wouldn’t it be nice to have some assistance getting rid of his annoying sickness? After all, with your background, you’re not the most eligible bachelor around.”
“Okay, first of all fuck you—” Ruggie jabbed a fork in his direction.
“Not interested, but thank you.”
“Second of all—ew no, gross—second of all, you guys aren’t exactly the most pinned for guys, even with your family money.”
Riddle let out a laugh, nodding in agreement. “Certainly, no price in the world could make up for your personalities.”
“Aww, come on Goldfishie.” Floyd pouted. “You don’ wanna go out with me? Why? I don’t meet your mama’s standard?”
“Why you—”
“Hey guys!”
A chipper voice interrupted a reddening Riddle, who looked like he was ready to launch himself over the table to strangle Floyd. Ruggie perked up to look at you and Grim perched on your shoulder, carrying a lunch tray with some coffee, a bowl of oatmeal, and a singular powdered donut.
Adjusting the tray in your hands, you let Grim jump off onto the table as you sat. You grabbed the donut with your freed hand and reached your arm out to Ruggie.
“Hey, I got you a donut, powdered’s your favorite right?”
Oh. Oooooh powdered was indeed his favorite. So were you. By the Seven, he thinks that you’d be his favorite snack. You were so cute. Your lips looked soft, plush. He wondered if you took a bite out of the donut if the first thing he’d taste was you or the sugar.
Opening his mouth to reply, Ruggie found himself instead choking, a tickling sensation developing in the pit of his stomach and growing up his throat to his mouth. He gagged as various shades of bright red blooms fell out of his mouth and onto the table. Specifically, onto your tray as you sat directly across from him.
Ruggie could make out the stifling laughter of his peers . He internally groaned, looking at your tray, now covered in red flowers. Riddle tapped his shoulder, offering him a cup of warm tea.
“Here, it should help soothe your throat.”
Taking the cup, he started drinking what he thought was honey lemon tea, soothing his throat.
Across the table from him, you let out a soft cough, drawing his and the other’s attention.
“Sooo, are you gonna apologize for puking dahlias all over my breakfast?”
The tea went down the wrong pipe. Ruggie started choking, Kalim frantically reaching over to pat his back.
“Oh? Does the Little Shrimpy know this flower?” Floyd asked, he and his brother slithering over to sit on either side of you. Their eyes met briefly, then at Ruggie, both giving him a knowing grin.
“Dahlias? Yeah! They’re my favorite!” you answered, blissfully unaware of the predicament they’d just put him in.
Ruggie wished he could be just as carefree.
The other five slowly turned their heads to stare at Ruggie, each looking especially gleeful and teasing.
“You don’t say?” Jamil drawled, smirking at Ruggie, whose state of mind was rapidly deteriorating. “We’ve never heard of it.”
You looked at Jamil in surprise. “Wait really?”
“Yes, these, dahlias you called them? They’re not from Twisted Wonderland.” Riddle had a mischievous smile, tipping the end of Ruggie’s cup before he could interject, making him choke on the tea again.
“Aw really? That kinda sucks.” you pouted, twirling one of the loose flowers in your hand. “I love them, fun fact, did you know you can eat both the flower and the tuber?”
Ruggie would never admit it out loud, but your cute, excitable grin makes him feel all warm and giddy inside. He’d even give you his grandma’s homemade donuts if he got to see more of it.
By the Seven, he’d give you his donuts. He really had it bad.
“Really? How fascinating! Isn't it Ruggie?” Jade asked, giving a closed mouth smile. The tone of his voice made it clear though, he and the others figured out you were the root cause of his hanahaki.
Ruggle got up abruptly, snatching the donut from your hand (why miss out on free food?) and the breakfast sandwich he’d gotten for Leona.
“I gotta go take Leona’s breakfast to him, I’ll see you guys later—”
“Wait, Ruggie!” Kalim cries out, startling Silver awake. “But the Prefect knows the flowers—”
“WOW I GOTTA GO! BYE GUYS SEE YOU LATER!”
Ruggie rushed out of the cafeteria, red petals flying behind him as he ran. The remaining 8 at the table stared after him, you in particular looking confused.
“Is he okay?” You asked, looking confused and disappointed. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Ah, perhaps we went a bit too far…” Jamil muttered.
Riddle sighed as he nodded in agreement, “Yes. Don’t worry yourself about it Prefect, we were discussing something else, you didn’t say anything wrong.”
You hummed as you cleared off your tray of dahlias, taking small bites of your oatmeal.
“Why’s he puking flowers?”
The group stayed silent, sharing knowing looks with each other. The twins and Azul in particular were smirking, while Kalim perked up.
“Oh he has hanahaki, it’s like a love sickness.” Kalim blissfully replied, Jamil pinching his nose and sighing heavily.
“Love…sickness?”
Riddle placed a hand on Kalim’s shoulder, giving him a stern look. “We had our fun earlier, but it’s not our business to share his medical information with anyone.”
He turned his gaze to you, making you shrink in on yourself. “It would be best to ask him yourself, Prefect.”
Floyd tsked. “Aww, that’s no fun! Don’t you wanna help Sharksucker? You do, dontcha Shrimpy?”
The twins leaned into your ears, like an angel and devil on your shoulder if the angel was just a devil with a halo and wings taped on.
“Why, you care for Ruggie, don’t you dear Prefect?” Jade cooed, chucking at your pink cheeks.
“Hehehe, of course they too, look at their blush!” Floyd giggled, poking at your right cheek. “Little Shrimpy isn’t a shrimp for nothin’!”
“And after all, only you can help him!” Azul came up behind you, startling you as he placed his hands on your shoulder.
The trio chuckled, coercing you to listen to their honeyed words, feeding on your soft spot for the hyena beastman.
Riddle shared a look with Jamil before sighing and walking off. Jamil followed suit, grabbing Kalim by the arm to drag him away before he too, inevitably, got involved in their scheme. Silver, now that he was bright and alert, similarly left, nodding at you.
Here you were, alone amongst the “benevolent” Octavinelle trio, now regretting waking up early to get breakfast instead of just sleeping in.
Ruggie had been leaving trails of dahlias behind him all day, getting on the ghost janitors’ ire and lectured by Crewel specifically.
“Loose flowers in a lab is the perfect example of a hazard to lab safety! Have you not gone to the nurse to get this taken care of?!”
He hadn’t had a fit since seeing you this morning, luckily. He had noticed you in the hallways in between classes though. Everytime your eyes met his own, you’d flush and rush away.
“Ugh, one of the guys must’ve told them.” Ruggie groaned, slumped over as he walked over to the kitchens, feet aching from running around his shift at Sam’s and now Mostro Lounge.
Azul had asked him to collect some perishable items that he’d purchased from a supplier, having it delivered to the school’s walk-in fridge until he could have someone pick it up.
Jade and Floyd were supposed to be there, ready to help, but they were nowhere to be found. Ruggie shrugged, walking into the kitchen and heading to the fridge before he felt himself get yanked by his collar.
“Hahahehehe! Be sure to thank us later, Sharksucker!”
“Fuhuhu~ Indeed Ruggie, I’m sure you’ll appreciate it later.”
“Oof! Hey!” Ruggie stumbled into the pantry, landing on something soft. “What the-Jade, Floyd this isn’t funny—”
“Mmph!” The floor beneath him started wiggling and groaning, startling Ruggie. His eyes were slowly adjusting to the dark, his hyena genes serving him well as he yelped, looking down.
A white cloth was tied around your mouth while your hands and feet were bound by what looked like Floyd’s scarf. Ruggie’s ears and dahlias drooped down as he saw that your cheeks were covered in tear tracks.
"Mmmphie! Mmmphie! Mmmph mmph mmph!" came out from behind the tightly-bound cloth.
“W-what? FLOYD! JADE! WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU TWO?!” He could hear the twins’ laughter from outside the door. Ruggie started pounding on the door with his fist, growling before freezing, hearing your muffled crying.
The hyena scrambled to turn on the light switch before returning back to your curled up form, gingerly untying the bound on your mouth.
“R-r-ruggie!!” You bawled out, fresh new tears spilling out of your eyes as he undid the knot on your hands, then feet.
“Hey, hey it’s alright Prefect, Y/N? I’m here—AH!” He yelped as you launched yourself in his arms, landing on his back, red petals flying . He stiffened as you shoved your head into the nook of his neck, hiccuping as you began babbling.
“I’m sorry Ruggie!!!” Softly glowing dahlias started popping up from between his ears and vines growing down his arms as he spat out petals.
“What’re you talking about? This isn’t your fault—”
“But it is! Azul and them said you were sick and that it was my faaaaault!” He froze, pulling you away to look at your teary eyes and snotty face.
Gods you looked terrible. Red-faced, puffy eyes, and pout made you look like an ugly crier, not doing you any justice. Ruggie couldn’t help the squeeze in his heart as you reached back out to clutch onto him again. You were the cutest ugly crier he’d ever seen.
“What? What do you mean—”
“They said that my crush on you’s been making you puke the flowers!” Ruggie’s ears perked up, and despite the growing blush and the resembling dahlias, he let you continue.
“Your crush?”
“My crush!!! It’s making you sick, a-and that I needed to confess to make it go away but-but-but-” You wailed, Ruggie allowing you to shove your head into his chest.
“I was embarrassed! Then Floyd got mad a-at me and he and Jade tied me up and threw me in here.”
Ruggie hummed in response. It made sense now why Azul specifically asked him to collect the produce from the kitchen, instead of letting him manage the floor like usual.
“They said I was ’ppose to be a present. I’m sorry Ruggie, I didn’t mean to drag you into this.”
He let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of your head affectionately.
“Nah, it’s not your fault entirely.” He tilted your chin to look up at him. “You are the reason I got the flowers, but not cause of your crush though.”
You made a questioning noise, blinking curiously at him. You looked like one of the kids back home after throwing a tantrum.
“Shyehehehe! They didn’t say what the flowers ‘re from?” Ruggie laughed as you pouted, pinching his cheek.”
“What do you mean? Is it still my fault? And I basically just confessed! I’m crying in a closet, just confessed and you’re laughing at me!”
Ruggie’s laughter died down as he grabbed your hand, moving it to cradle his cheek instead. His ears perked up as he heard your soft gasp, his eyes meeting yours, blown wide.
His tail wagged, despite himself. “It’s cause I like ya, Prefect. I like ya so much that it makes my stomach ache and flowers sprout from all over. I gotta hand it to ya, for a cute little herbivore, you sure got your teeth dug right into my heart.”
You scoffed, using your other arm to wipe your face clean.
“The dahlias make sense now…did you at least try eating them?”
He let out a barking laugh, followed by your giggling. “I thought about it! I spat out enough of them that I got sick of the taste, besides…”
Ruggie could hear the rustling of his tail under his clothes as he wrapped an arm around your waist, grinning wider at the gasp that left your mouth as he yanked you onto his lap.
He pressed you against him until your bodies were flushed against one another. Heat pooled in the pit of his stomach as he gazed up to your flustered face. Ruggie nuzzled his head into your chest, feeling your rapidly speeding heartbeat.
“Ruggie…” You tangled your hands through his hair, making him groan as you gently pulled his head back and rubbed the backs of his ears.
You leaned down to graze your lips over his, giving Ruggie a heady whine as he nibbled on your lower lip.
“Shyehehe~ You’re awfully clingy for a poor little hyena like me, you sure I meet your standards?”
Despite his attempt at humor, Ruggie was sure that you could hear the apprehensive tone in his voice, your eyes softening.
Instead of pointing his insecurity out, you answered his question with a deep, open-mouth kiss. He groaned into your mouth, returning your kiss with desperation, as if you’d disappear in his grasp.
Ruggie’s hands wandered along your sides, slipping underneath your shirt and tracing your spine, causing you to shiver in delight. You pulled away from his lips, causing him to let out a displeased growl before shifting into something closer to a purr as you left wet kisses along his neck.
Feeling your teeth softly dig themselves into the crook of his neck and chest, Ruggie rolled his hips into yours, delighting in the moan that left you.
Just as you started suckling, no doubt leaving a mark, his world turned upside down as he suddenly fell backwards onto the ground of the college kitchen.
“Ow, shit!” Ruggie winced as the back of his head smacked into the hard tile flooring, you splayed over his body.
“What is wrong with you two? When I said get them into a room together, I didn’t mean—oh my!” Azul squeaked, glasses skewed as he saw the two of you. Ruggie developing a dark red hickey and you with your shirt nearly half off.
“Aw, see it worked out!” Floyd chirped, delighted at the turn of events.
Jade chuckled, taking his phone out to quickly snap a photo.
“W-what, hey! Don’t go taking pictures!” Ruggie cried out as the both of you scrambled to get up and tidy yourselves.
Jade smiled innocently. “Oh? Don’t worry, I’ll only share it with the other second years, just to win a bet.”
Ruggie narrowed his eyes at Jade. “Alright but how much did ya bet? You’re gonna split it with me right—”
The four men winced at your shrill shriek.
“RUGGIE?! NO!”
Zinnia – A purple zinnia flower symbolizes spiritual exaltation and honoring the divine. It also symbolizes love on a soul mate level.
Pink cosmos – In the Victorian era, cosmos flowers symbolized joy in love and in life. Dark pinks ones should be given to a romantic interest.
The latest unbirthday planning was going well. Since spring had just arrived, it was tradition for the first spring unbirthday party to have the desserts be made with the seasonal harvest. Riddle was especially happy to hear that Trey would be making strawberry and apricot tarts for this party.
Trey was especially excited to try his hand at his mother’s sugared lavender cupcakes, a family recipe that she insisted on keeping out of his hands until he guaranteed her an in-law.
Luckily he’d managed to convince her by telling her that the cupcakes might help him dazzle a certain someone. She was quick to mail him the original copy with the promise of a visitor during the next break.
Now if only he could find the recipe card.
“Hmm, I thought I brought it down from my room…hey Cater?”
“Yeah Trey?” Cater answered in a sing-song voice.
“I can’t find my mom’s recipe card.” Trey groaned as he rubbed his face. “She’ll kill me if I lose it, can you go to my room to check if I left it on my desk?”
Cater winked and gave him a finger gun. “Sure thing Trey! Cay-Cay in on the case! Brb!”
Trey nodded as Cater left the kitchen, now focusing on preparing the jam and frosting for the strawberry-lemon cake, which was cooling on the counter. He was so focused on making the jam and whisking the cream cheese frosting, he failed to notice a certain someone sneaking up behind him.
“Boo!”
Trey hummed, looking over his shoulder to look down at you with your arms out and teeth bared. “Oh, hey Y/N, you’re here early.”
“Aw booooooo! You were supposed to get scared!” You pouted at the taller man, pulling at his arm as he laughed at your little tantrum.
“Haha, scared? Of you? Hardly.” Trey winced and held his arms up in defense, still laughing as you started to pound on his arms and back.
“Ow, ow! Okay I concede!” He grabbed your hands, holding them over your head as he leaned down towards your face, smirking.
Trey hovered his face over yours, enjoying your pouty blush. With a teasing lilt, he cooed, “Don’t be a brat, Y/N. Or else you won’t get a treat later~”
“Hmph, maybe I’ll just steal some later. What are you gonna do? Punish me?” You replied in an equally teasing tone, stepping on your tiptoes, making yourself just talk enough to brush your nose against his.
“Mmm, don’t tempt me, I just might—”
“Hey Trey I found your—whoa! What did I just walk into?”
The two of you rapidly distanced yourselves from each other, Trey nearly knocking over the bowl of jam and you tripping into the table chair.
Both of you answered Cater with a louder than needed, “Nothing!” as your faces turned the same shade as the strawberries he was baking with.
“Riiiiight, uh, Trey I got your mom’s recipe card!” The ginger looked between you two with an absolute ecstatic grin, making eye contact with Trey and wiggling his eyebrows.
“I can come back though, if you two need a moment—”
You interrupted, “No, it’s fine. I promised Ace and Deuce I’d help paint the roses.”
Trey looked at you wistfully as you tidied yourself, pulling out a bouquet of dark-pink cosmos from your bag.
“Here, you like these right? I thought you could use them to decorate the cake ‘n stuff.”
Trey smiled and accepted the bouquet of admittedly stunning cosmos, ignoring Cater’s open mouth smile and silent squealing.
“Thanks, I’m sure they’ll go great with the cake, I’ll see you later.”
His eyes wandered up and down your body as you left the kitchen, waving your fingers as you gave a playful “Bye~”
Trey replied with his own enamored “bye” as he waved after you, a lovesick grin on his face as he watched you leave.
Eyes still on the doorway you left through, it took a few moments and Cater waving his hand in front of his face to get his attention back.
“Helloooo? Wonderland to Trey~” Cater sang, snapping his fingers in Trey’s face. “You’re a lil out of it, got something juicy you wanna share with me? Come on! Give Cay-Cay the deets!”
Trey rolled his eyes, swiping the recipe card from his friend’s hands.
“There’s no ‘deets’ for Cay-Cay to know, not if he wants me to make him a spicy fruit cocktail for today.”
Cater hummed as he watched Trey resume building the strawberry-lemon cake, gesturing for him to grab stuff from the pantry.
“Now, help me grab the lavender from the pantry, and get some more flour, I’ll need it for the cupcakes.”
“Sure! Speaking of flowers…” Cater leaned over to whisper into Trey’s ear, “why’s your trash can full of flower petals? Are you secretly a botanist, or is there something you're not telling me?”
Cater let out an uncharacteristically giddy cackle as he watched Trey drop the clean bowl he’d grabbed, whipping around to stare at him with wide eyes.
“You saw those?”
“Yeah, zinnias right?” Cater called out as he collected the items Trey requested. “Little Y/N’s favorite~ You want to tell me where you got so many?”
“Uh, the botanical gardens, where else?”
“Yeah, yeah. Sure, the gardens.” sneaking up from behind him, Cater plucked a light purple colored flower from the back of Trey’s neck, who hissed at the sudden prick.
“Not from hanahaki popping up on your body, tooootallyyy!”
Trey groaned out loud, attempting to look behind him for any other blooms. “Damn it, I thought I got rid of them. Are there more I can’t see?”
“Nah, you’re fine.” Cater waved him off, looking around the hard-to-reach places for his friend. “It was just the one.”
Trey sighed in relief, thanking Cater as he placed the bag of lavender petals in his hand, “Good, it was a pain to get them out of my hair, let alone my mouth. They’re really bitter you know?”
“O-M-G, Treeeeey!” Cater gasped, throwing himself against his friend. “That’s, like, a supes easy fix! Just confess, you already have the flowers to give!”
“Ha, I know, I plan to later.”
“Plus, with the way you two were allover each other earlier, there’s no way they won’t say yes—OMGWAITWHAT!”
Cater shook Trey by his shoulders, while the latter attempted to steady the bowl of dry ingredients in his hand, guarding it with a vigor akin to a knight and their liege.
“OMGNOWAYWHENHOWAREYOUGONNADOITINFRONTOFEVERYONEAREYOUGONNADOITINPRIVATECANIRECORDCANIPOSTITTREYTREYTREYTREYTREY—”
Trey smacked his free hand on Cater’s mouth, effectively silencing him minus a few muffled sounds. He breathed out a heavy and deep sigh before slowly replying to Cater.
“If I take my hand off your mouth, will you quiet down?”
Cater gave an enthusiastic nod, eyes twinkling. Trey could feel the grin against his hand, and reluctantly and slowly removed his hand.
“...So when did you find out? When did you decide to confess?!” The ginger asked giddily, watching as Trey resumed his task at hand, preparing the ingredients for the lavender cupcakes.
“A week ago, I overheard Ace and Deuce talking about the Prefect coughing up a bunch of pink cosmos, they were arguing over what tea would help with their symptoms.”
Cater made an ‘O’ shape with his mouth, pointing at the cosmos you’d given to Trey earlier, placed carefully on the counter.
“You mean—”
“Mm-hm, those are probably their hanahaki, grew up with those in my mom’s garden, she used them as garnishes on cakes, especially wedding ones.”
Trey smiled fondly as he reached to grab one of the small flowers, rubbing the soft petals between his fingers. “A bit after that I started to find zinnias in my bed, coughing them up and everything. I think the nurse probably put two and two together after I went to see her.”
He shrugged as he grabbed his mother’s recipe card, twirling it in his fingers.
“I figured, why wait? Mom always said that it was these cupcakes that snatched Dad up, I’ve always wanted to try my hand at them plus she wouldn’t pass down this recipe without a partner in the picture.”
“Oh, Trey!” Cater clasped his hands together as he squealed, “You want help? I get some of the froshies to finish up the tarts and cake, so you can focus on those! Like, don’t even worry about it boo!”
Cater winked gave Trey a half-arm hug. “I’ll make sure they follow instructions to a T! All I ask for in exchange is the exclusive right to snap the first pic of the brand-new school couple, capiche?”
True to his word, Cater was quick to round up a handful of freshmen who he’d found goofing off instead of painting roses. They were more than happy to take over Trey’s baking, after he gave them strict rules and a talking too on what to do, in order to not be snitched off to Riddle.
Thankfully, the cupcakes weren’t difficult to make, what with his experience in the kitchen. He’d cut the recipe down by half so that he’d only make four, medium sized cupcakes. In fact, the most difficult part was making sure that he ground up enough lavender to turn the glaze a soft purple, which complemented the zinnias he’d placed in the small basket. Using the plush flowers as a cushion, he placed the blooms of your cosmos in between the gaps, creating a beautiful, pink and purple presentation.
He was sure you’d love it, carefully hiding the wicker basket, covered by a white tablecloth, underneath the table.
Later, Trey smiled as he looked around at the dorm members enjoying the party. His cake was a big hit, and Riddle in particular was enjoying the flower themed desserts, specially the daisy-shaped fruit tarts.
“You’ve outdone yourself this time Trey!” Riddle praised him, “It seems that everyone has particularly enjoyed the sweets this time around. Well done, I’d expect nothing less!
Trey chuckled bashfully, rubbing the back of his head. “Thanks Riddle, be sure to praise the freshmen too, that group over there helped out a lot as well.”
Riddle nodded, his mood in high-spirits as he walked over to the group Trey gestured to. Trey raised his head to look over the crowd of red, white, and black for Cater, who was currently adjusting his slice of cake for the perfect angle.
Grim was also with him, hungrily waiting for Cater to give him the okay to make the sacrifice of scarfing down the sweet dessert. Perfect.
Trey briskly walked over to him, basket in hand, leaning down to whisper in his ear. Cater perked up and nodded before calling out.
“Hey Acey, Deucey! Com ‘ere real quick, Cay-Cay needs ya for a super-duper important task!”
The pair perked up mid-conversation with you, nodding at you and rushing over to Cater per his request. Trey walked over to you, though he could make out Cater asking the duo for assistance with a Magicam post.
“Hey, Y/N.” You smiled up at him as he approached, wiping the tart crumbs from the corner of your mouth. Trey had the impulsive to lean down and lick the mess off of you himself, though he shook it away.
“Hey, what’s up Trey!” You clasped your hands behind you, rocking back and forth on your heels, unaware of the petals. “You did great with the desserts, I noticed you didn’t use the flowers I gave you on the cake though…are they not edible?”
“About that…I actually wanted to show you something else I did with the flowers,” Trey held his hand out to you soft smile growing bigger as you laced your fingers through his.
Trey led you to an isolated corner of the rose maze, stiffening slightly as you wrapped your arm around his, relaxing as you leaned in. The small basket was being carefully guarded against his right side, being carefully cradled like a precious stone in a gold necklace.
The two of you remained in a comfortable silence, basking in each other’s presence like an old, aging married couple on a stroll. The image made him smile.
I wasn’t but a few minutes later that you’d arrived at a secluded white gazebo, roses and vines crawling up the sides. It was just far enough away that the sound of laughter and chatter from the party was but a faint white noise, giving Trey the perfect ambiance needed for his plan.
“Take a seat right there, I got something for you.” Trey gestured to the stone bench, a fitting heart-shaped backrest further setting the mood.
“Oh? Alright.” You took a seat, still looking up at him with a curious expression. “Is it something in the basket?”
He let out a soft chuckle, “Why don’t you close your eyes and let me surprise you?”
You squint your eyes in suspicion, scoffing as you obey.
“Fine, if I get another spoonful of vanilla extract though—”
Trey barked out a laugh. “I told you it was bitter! Now keep those eyes closed.”
“It smells sweet! It’s made of vanilla!” You huffed, flinching and then relaxing as you felt him place the basket on your lap. “That’s not the worst thing even, I��m still angry about the oyster sauce donuts!”
“Okay that one was your own fault, you saw me do the same thing with Ace and the chestnut tarts, remember? When we first met?”
You smiled fondly, as did Trey though you couldn’t see it. What Trey could see though were the cosmos blooming along your exposed nape. He let out a soft cough, spitting out a lilac zinnia.
“Hmm, yeah, I do.” He wiped his hands clean, gingerly placing the zinnia on the bench next to you, uncovering the basket and grabbing one of the still pristine cupcakes.
“Okay, here—” Trey took the sugared lavender stem and held it up to you mouth. “—open up and say ‘aah’~”
“Pfft—okay, aaaah~” Grinning, Trey placed the stem on your tongue and watched as you slowly chewed.
“Well? How’s that taste?”
You hummed. “It’s sweet, flowery…it tastes like the evening tea Riddle has before bed…soooo lavender?”
Trey hummed in affirmation. “That’s right, now take a bite of this.” He unfolded the wrapper off of the cupcake, holding it up as you took a small bite.
“Mmmh! Trey!” Your moan of delight caused a pleasurable shiver down his spine, less than pure thoughts filling his head. “It’s so good, it’s lavender too? Is it a cookie…no wait, a cupcake!”
“Heh, good guess, I have one last thing for you to taste, ‘kay?”
He watched as you eagerly nodded, mouth open for the next treat. Trey leaned down, hovering his lips over you own, noticing the light purple glaze still on your bottom lip.
Feeling his breath over your own, you stuttered out, “T-trey? What are you—mmph!”
Trey gently, but firmly pressed his lips to yours, licking the glaze and swiping his tongue along your lip as you opened up to let him in. Your hands reached to tug him by the lapel, returning his kiss with eagerness and tugging him closer and closer, gasps leaving both of your lips.
Still hands were now wandering, gliding up your thighs and along the curve of your back, deciding to settle on the backrest. Trey found himself leaning down to match your height, knee settled in between your thighs.
A beguiling groan rang from between your mouths, from who you didn’t know, then another as Trey’s tongue met your own. Then a gasp as you felt his hand hook underneath you as he lifted you to curl against his body, left hand still cradling and rubbing soothing circles at the small of your back.
Your back was so far arched, chest meeting chest, that you moved your hands from their steel grip on his lapels to instead wrap around his shoulder and neck as he dipped you further to feel your body press into his.
Trey licked your lower lip again, positive he could still taste the sweet lavender on your lip, causing you to whine as he instead took your lower lip between his teeth and tug. Breaking the kiss to observe your red face, gasping breaths, and half lidded eyes.
He has to say, of all the cakes, cookies, and pastries he’s made and tried over the years, you were by far the sweetest, and most divine treat he’s tasted. Trey decided that he needed another taste to confirm as he lips met yours for another passionate kiss.
#twst#twisted wonderland#ruggie bucchi#trey clover#ruggie bucci x reader#trey clover x reader#twst ruggie#mochi requests#a floral inconvenience#twst trey#twst x reader#twst ruggie x reader#twst trey x reader#twisted wonderland x reader
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❝I'LL NEVER BE YOUR MOTHERS FAVORITE.❞➝ MATTHEW STURNIOLO
"I just wanted to be enough for her to like me."
pair: Matt sturniolo x Columbian!f reader
Genre; angst
cw; Racism, judgement, mentions of forceful break ups, I think that's it. If not pls lmk!
A/n: I know Mary-lou would never be like this in real life. She has the purest, and kindest soul in the world.
You really thought she liked you.
You tried everything to impress her but nothing worked.
Not the way you spoke Spanish, or how you’d been practicing English for years.
Nothing was working.
You just wanted her to like you.
But, even trying to be nice was a failure.
“Babe, I promise you. She’s gonna love you!” Matt spoke, placing your hair behind your ear. “Are you sure?” You spoke, rolling your R’s.
“Yes baby, I promise.” Matt responded. He knew what it was like to be nervous, he had anxiety and so did you. But, yours wasn't as bad. So, you both had patience with each other because you knew it would take a lot of time to get used to. You took a deep breath and made sure you looked good before getting out of the car.
Matt walked up to the front door, you following behind. Before he could knock, the door opened. A beautiful white, freckled face, brown haired lady opened the door. She looked you up and down before hugging Matt. After they pulled apart you attempted to hug her, but she just moved out the way to let you both in.
“So Matt, this is the girl you've been talking about?” She spoke up, going to sit on the couch. Both you and Matt followed behind.
“Uh yeah, this is my girlfriend, mom.” Matt replied, going to hold your hand. “Yeah. She’s…not what I expected to see.” She admitted. In all honesty, you felt kind of offended. What did she mean by ‘not what she expected?' Did she expect a white lady with blonde hair and blue eyes? You weren't any of that. You were a brown-curly haired, hazel eyed, brown skinned Colombian woman. Were you not pretty enough?
“Mom, that's not nice. You can't just say that.” Matt defended you. He never liked when someone would talk about you. Even if it was someone he knew but, he would've never expected this behavior from his mother. He never would've.
“I'm sorry Matt. I just would've thought to see a beautiful white woman. Not whatever she is.” She remarked, pointing at you up and down with a disgusted look on her face. You heard all the nice stories about Mary-lou but, what she was saying and doing wasn't nice at all.
“I don't know where she's from, nor do I care. But, I'm not having a non-English speaking lady date my American son.” Mary-lou spat out. You got tired of her racism and her judgment. It wasn't fair to you. All you wanted was for her to like you.
“I-im sorry but, why are you being so rude? All I wanted was to come here, and finally meet you but it seems like you don't like me just because I'm not from here. Or-or just because your son is dating a Latina woman.” You spoke, tired of the way she spoke about you.
Matt was right behind you. He was getting tired of it too, he wasn't liking the way his mother was talking about the girl he loved. The girl he thinks is so perfect, even if she couldn't speak English well, or that she wasn't American. He liked you, alot. And that's all that mattered to him.
"Matt can I talk to you, in private." Mary-lou spoke, moving towards the kitchen. Matt followed behind, "what is it mom?" Matt replied, annoyed. He was tired of talking to his mother, he hated the way she was talking about his girl. "I think you should break up with her. I don't think she's good for you." Mary-lou whispered, trying to make it so you didn't hear her. "No mom, Absolutely not. I'm not breaking up with the girl that I love. There's no way in hell I'm doing that." Matt admitted. He was angry that his mom would ever say that to him, she had no reason too. You guys have almost been together 8 months, and there was no going back.
"Look Matt..." She sighed, hand on her forehead. "She's not even from here, she barely understands English for God sakes! She shouldn't even be in this country." Mary-lou shouted. Matt had enough he walked out of the kitchen, and spoke up.
“Mom. We’re leaving.”
“Matt-”
“No mom. I brought the girl that I love to come and meet you so you could get to know her. Instead, you were ignorant, rude, and racist. That's not okay, and I won't stand for that.” Matt stood up.
Before his mom could say anything, both of you walked out the door and to the car. It was silent before Matt decided to speak up. “Baby, I'm so sorry. I didn't think she was going to act that way.”
“It's okay baby. It's not your fault. Can we just go home?”
“Yeah, of course we can.”
The ride back was silent, sounds of wind coming in through the rolled down windows. You didn't understand why she didn't like you. You were just like everyone else, a normal person. Just a girl that was in love. So, it wasn't fair for you to get treated differently. Sure, you knew that being a foreigner had its pros and cons but you never knew it could get this bad.
It has only been your second year in North America, maybe that would've made Mary-lou understand but, there was no point in trying. Suddenly, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. It was a call from your mom. You answered and pulled the phone to your ear
“Hola Mami, que paso?”
“Namas quería saber como te fue. Estas amañado aya?”
“Fue mal ma. No me trato bien su mama. Osea me odia porque soy de Colombia. La escuche hablando con Matteo Mami, y dijo que no Tengo el derecho de estar aqui."
“Ay mi niña Linda. No le hagas caso, princesa. A quién le importa lo que piensa esa vieja.”
“A mi Mami. A mi me importa.”
Matt could hear you on the phone with your mom. He knew that you were telling her about what happened. He could hear you start to cry. Matt hated to hear you cry, it broke him into pieces. His pretty girl crying is something he couldn't ever handle, your pretty face wasn't meant to be stained with tears.
Matt was meant to make you happy all the time, but he knew sometimes he couldn't. Even then, he still tried everything to make you happy. Eventually, when he pulled into the driveway, Matt could hear you end the conversation with your mom. You hung up, and took a deep breath, wiping your tears away.
“Come on sweet girl. Let's get you inside so we can talk about it, yeah?” Matt spoke, helping you out of the car. You just nodded, stepping out the car and walking towards the front door. You really wanted her to like you, but sometimes it just doesn't go the way you want it to, and that was hard to accept.
You walked in, kicked your shoes off and sat on the catch just staring at the floor. Matt did the same, sitting next to you. “Baby, I'm so sorry about what happened. I never should've brought you to meet her.”
“You know,she's right Matt. M-Maybe, you shouldn't be with a girl who can barely speak English. You should be with a girl that can speak your own language and a girl that’s from this side of america.” You stammered, tears starting to swell in your eyes. You tried catching them with your knuckles, upset at the fact that you were agreeing with something that his rude mother had said. “No. No, no, no ,no, and no.”
“Baby, look at me.” He spoke, trying to get you to look at him. When you didn't budge, he moved to kneel in front of you. “Look at me.” Matt spoke sternly. “Baby, I don't care what my mom has to say or think. All I've ever wanted was you, since that day we met. You're the only one I want. The only girl I'm in love with, and I wouldn't ever have it any other way.”
“She said absolutely ignorant and racist things. But, what she said doesn't define you or your personality. She didn't give you a chance, and that's her fault. Maybe, if she would've given you a chance, she would realize how good of a woman you are.”
“Matt.”
“Yes, pretty girl?” He responded looking at you in the eyes, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. He kissed your forehead.
“I just wanted to be enough for her to like me.”
Taglist; @bernardsbendystraws @flouvela @sturniolosarethebest @sturnthepot @soupuurr @nickgetsmewetter (if you want to get added to the tag list pls lmk!)
a/n: omg guys, it felt so good to be able to write again. You have noooooo idea. I really hope you guys enjoy this. It's been a week so I'm kind of rusty but I hope it's still good enough, I love you all so muchhh
lots of love, alondra
translations:
“Hola Mami, que paso?” - "Hi mom, what happened?"
“Namas quería saber como te fue. Te gusta aya?” - "I just wanted to know how it went. Do you like it over there?"
“Fue mal ma. No me trato bien su mama. Osea me odia porque soy de Colombia. La escuche hablando con Matteo Mami, y dijo que no Tengo el derecho de estar aqui." - “It was bad, ma. His mom didn't treat me well. I mean she hates me because I'm from Colombia. "I heard her talking to Matthew Mami, and she said I don't have the right to be here."
“Ay mi niña Linda. No le hagas caso, princesa. A quién le importa lo que piensa esa vieja.” - “Oh my pretty girl. Don't mind her, princess. “Who cares what that old woman thinks.”
“A mi Mami. A mi me importa.” - "Myself Ma. I care."
#Spotify#writers on tumblr#artists on tumblr#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fic#matt sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#nic sturniolo#nick sturniolo#angst#i need sleep#im so happy#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo triplets fics
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Firsts | Javier Peña
pairing: javier peña x f!reader
warnings: smut (f & m oral receiving, unprotected piv, fingering, slight size kink?), cursing, teasing, tension, some tooth-rotting tender fluff, no use of y/n. 18+. minors dni.
word count: 4.9k
synopsis: Agent Peña is determined to give you something you've been craving for a long time.
not revised. sorry for any mistakes :')
Javier Peña never let anyone sleep in his bed.
Sure, he's had multiple women in it, but not once had any of them ever stayed longer than a little aftercare from the Agent himself. He used those women to get information; fucked them so good they just couldn't stop sputtering where they've seen this guy or how they know this other man. And, deep down, he used them to fill an empty void in his heart of loneliness—something he was no stranger to, but wanted to avoid altogether.
No woman had ever slept in his bed, until you.
See, if anyone told you months ago that you would've even spared Agent Peña a proper non-work related conversation this time around, you both would call bullshit.
It all started out in the field, a few months ago. Steve kept nagging Peña about his little crush on you, and it drove him crazy that you were the only woman in the office that wouldn't give him the time of day. Of course you talked to him about work related things, puzzling together the missing pieces to finally fucking catch Escobar.
Tensions were at an all-time high in the office, and the last thing on your mind was tossing the insatiable Agent a flirty smile. You were an intense, strong-willed go-getter who was an absolute badass in the field. Even the Colombian military and police liked to work with you, which was good, because it meant they'd cooperate more with the DEA. Flirting, especially with a coworker nonetheless, was completely off limits and your one set-in-stone rule you had for yourself.
You were no stranger to the rumors roaming about that Agent Peña was a good fuck. You were also no stranger to the giggles and nudges your female colleagues gave you when they caught him staring at you. You just chose to ignore them.
It wasn't until one late night in the office that had everyone exhausted and quite literally ready to get back to the States that you gave Peña the time of day.
Steve had told the man something rather interesting that day, which he knew you'd kill him for, but he thought it was worth Javier knowing. When you went over to Steve and Connie's place to have 'girl's night' with his wife, he overheard you say that no man has ever been able to make you orgasm.
Steve immediately thought of Javier when that information sprouted, and of course, being the wingman he was for Peña, he told him. Peña wanted nothing more than to be the man that could give that to you. Luckily for him, he was sort of an expert in that area, which is why all those women he fucked ended up talking.
You never paid any mind to how suave Peña could be, mainly because you genuinely weren’t interested. Your disinterest in the Agent bothered him at first, as you shot down all of his advances and flirting tactics. It just determined him further. It’s not like he kept harassing you or anything, but he tried his best to do little things for you here and there like get you a coffee when you needed it the most or a file that would help you in the spur of the moment.
On this particular night, it was just you and Peña left in the office. The two of you were paired up for a specific assignment because Murphy was unavailable, and the assignment needed to be done quickly.
You were efficient with your work, but having the Agent stare at you like a meal on legs wasn’t helping. You couldn’t deny that he was a good looking man. A man you swore you’d pay no mind to, and up until now, it was working.
“Can I help you Peña?” You ask without looking up from your paperwork. You were jotting something down when he cleared his throat, straightening in his seat.
“I think I should be asking you that, Agent.” He shot back incredulously, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded behind his head. He gave you a smug look, and his words halted your writing mid-sentence.
“Excuse me?” You look up at him, quirking an irritated brow. Though, you found yourself faltering to his heavy gaze; hooded puppy dog eyes making your panties dampen a bit. You squeezed your legs together, ignoring the nagging feelings of want and desire.
“Heard that no man’s ever been able to please you.” He tilts his head and eyes you, from your intense gaze down to the way the first couple of buttons of your work top were unbuttoned.
You scoff in disbelief. You know Connie would never say a word, so it had to’ve been Steve fucking Murphy.
Bastard.
“I don’t see how my dilemma in my personal life has anything to do with our work, Peña.”
“I was just simply observing.”
“Well you don’t work for the BAU. Stop trying to profile me.” You snap, rolling your eyes.
He holds his hands up in defense. “You know, cariño, I could help relieve you of your tension. Noticed you’ve been real… irritable, these days.”
You shoot him a nasty glare.
“Fuck you, Peña.”
“If that's what you'd like, baby. And I’d prefer it if you called me Javi.”
“I’m not one of your whores. We don’t need to be on a first name basis.” Your tone was cold as you looked back down to your papers, annoyed at the fact that you were getting turned on by his advances. What you really should've been doing is reporting him to Messina, but it wasn't worth all of the stupid paperwork.
You were cold toward him because you needed to distance yourself. It was your own fucking rule. No flirting with coworkers, even if they're ridiculously hot and tall and tan and broad and—
"Say all you want about not wanting me, but I saw the way your legs clenched and your breathing became more rapid. Why deny yourself a good time, hm?" He tilts his head.
This motherfucker was watching you like clockwork.
You slapped the manila folder that the file was in closed, tucking it into the top drawer of your desk before gathering your things.
"Good night, Peña." You hastily exited the building, fumbling with your car keys to unlock it before getting into your car. You let out a loud sigh, head hitting the back of the headrest as you rubbed your hands over your face in exasperation.
You put the keys in the ignition and left Peña at the office alone with a stupid smirk on his face.
And, that night, you had an even stupider wet dream about the smug-faced Agent.
-
As the week went on, the tension between you and Javier became nearly unbearable. It was stolen glances and soft touches and close proximities that had you stiffening, keeping your guard up to avoid succumbing to the ache in your core. It was the very thing that clawed at you from the inside, begging to be fulfilled.
You had no doubt Javier could be that man, but you were stubborn. You didn't want to give him that satisfaction. Not yet, at least. The insanely hot wet dream you had about him definitely didn't help your case, though. It made you want him to fuck you right there on his desk.
Luckily, you knew you had self control. What you didn't know is that Javier could feel you literally buzzing with anticipation, likely waiting for him to make the first move because you were too proud to do so.
You were in the kitchenette, pouring yourself a fresh cup of coffee when Javier walked in behind you. You didn’t really pay any mind until you felt the heat of his body behind you, and you turned around. Your back was pressed up against the counter as he towered over you, his dark brown gaze ever so enticing.
He reached up into the cabinet behind your head to retrieve a coffee mug himself, never breaking eye contact with you. Your eyes flickered to his lips for a brief second. To anyone else, it would’ve been the world’s most subtle glance. But to Javier, he took it as a message.
Game on.
He lightly brushed his hand against your waist to scoot past you, pouring the remainder of the fresh coffee into the mug he was holding. His touch sent a jolt of tingles down your spine, and you swallowed harshly as you tried to remember how to walk again to get away from him.
“You look beautiful today, cariño.” He simply said, halting you in your tracks. You slowly turn to him, wide-eyed and stunned. Your throat went dry as your lips formed into a tight smile.
“Thank you.” You meekly said before heading back to your desk. In this moment, you wish a black hole could form underneath the ground you walked on and swallow you whole. The affect that Javier had on you was embarrassing, especially because you were very anti-Javier Peña, aka Mr. Sex-On-Legs.
You thinking about him like this, and the undeniable tension between you both was everything you were against. Flirting with coworkers was dangerous and having sexual relations with them was lethal, especially Agents of yours and Javier’s rank. It could easily affect your work environment and being a woman in the field was already hard enough. You didn’t need shit from your counterparts or higher-ups. You wanted to be taken seriously, and giving in to your desires was going to get you anything but.
On the other hand, the need to have your desires fulfilled clawed at you aimlessly. You wanted to experience an orgasm. One that would have your toes curling and eyes rolling back. A fucking earth-shattering one—one that would ruin any other man for you.
Javier would easily oblige and give that to you, but it was up to you to let him do so.
Oh, fuck rules and fuck morals and fuck workplace gossip.
You wanted, no, needed Javier to show you what it was like. So, you decided to play along. You knew you’d both be stuck in the office late again tonight, so you wanted to have a little fun with it.
The first move was rather bold, but you weren’t going to back down now. Later on in the day, you got up from your desk to hand him a file. In doing so, your nimble fingers softly wrapped around one of his thick biceps as you dropped the file down on his desk. You leaned down, your voice barely a whisper.
“Thanks, Javi.” Was all you said before uncurling your fingers from his arm, sashaying away from him. He stared at the back of your figure quite literally stunned, and you saying his name like that had his dick twitching in his pants.
What the hell had gotten into you? He didn’t know where the sudden flirtatious behavior came from, but he was definitely going to find out.
Steve was catching on to what was going on between you, and it was amusing him to no end. It was nice to have a distraction from all the bullshit the DEA has been dealing with regarding Escobar.
By the time everyone was starting to head home, tension was so thick it could’ve been cut with a knife. Steve even threw in a ‘just bone already!’ to the both of you, and Javier couldn’t even stifle the small smile that had curled onto his plush lips.
It was around nine in the evening, and as promised, it was just you and Peña left. He was sitting at his desk when your hands suddenly slid over his shoulders from behind, sliding down to his chest. You reached over him to grab a file you needed without asking him, just so you’d have an excuse to do that.
By that time, he’d had enough of the teasing. Before you could retract your hands completely, he gripped both of your wrists and stood up, spinning your bodies around so you were pushed against his desk.
"Enough of this cat and mouse game. Do you want me or not?" Javier whispered, trapping your body with his against the cold metal of his desk. It almost looked like he was pained, like this whole past week had been hell for him.
And honestly, unbeknownst to you, it had. He laid awake every single night wishing you'd just give in to him. He wanted to treat you right. Worship your body as it should've been worshipped all along. He didn't want to fuck some random woman for intel anymore if it meant he got to be with you.
You were too stunned to speak, and quite honestly, the arousal pooling in your panties was way too noticeable to ignore at this point. You nodded your head, breath ragged and cheeks flushed.
"Gracias a Dios." He murmured. He cupped your face with both hands, finally sealing the space between you both as he brought his lips to yours. As cliché as it sounded, your whole body reacted to his touch as you felt sparks when his lips moved with yours. You dropped the file in your hand onto his desk behind you before wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer.
He gripped your thighs and easily hoisted you up onto his desk, moving between your legs to be as close as he possibly could. You moaned softly when your clit caught onto the seam of your jeans, and you could feel Javier's growing bulge against your jean-clad core.
If it wasn't going to be your first time with him, he would've happily taken you right here on his desk. But, he wasn't a total asshole.
"Come back to my place with me," He sighed against your lips. "I can take better care of you there."
You nodded vigorously in agreement, and you both hastily gathered your things before heading out to Javier's Jeep.
He opened the door for you and you softly thanked him, trying to catch your breath and steady your heart rate from everything that just happened. You hadn't even gotten to the best part of this all and you were already falling apart at the seams. It'd been awhile since you've had any special kind of attention like that in general, so it really wasn't helping your case.
Javier clambered into the driver's seat, starting up his car to head back to his apartment. A naughty idea crossed your mind, and you'd be completely humiliated if Javier rejected your advances.
Fuck it.
You reached your left hand over, rubbing his now completely erect cock through the fabric of his jeans. He twitched slightly, giving you a look with burning desire. His eyes snapped back to the road thinking you were going to stop there, but boy was he wrong.
You began to undo his belt as best as you could given your position, and you swiftly unbuttoned and zipped down his jeans.
"Wh-what are you doing?" His voice was hoarse, eyes going wide.
"Relieving you." Was all you said before tugging his jeans down the right amount so you could take his cock out of his boxers.
He was thick and heavy, the head already bedaubed with pre cum. Your mouth watered at the sight, seeing that he had girth and a good length.
He inhaled sharply when your thumb ran over the swollen flesh of his weeping head. You wasted no time, giving his shaft a few pumps before taking him into your mouth. He hissed in pleasure, the feeling of your mouth so wet and warm around him. The sounds you elicited while pleasuring him were nothing short of erotic, and it was driving him crazy.
"Fuuuck. Yeah, just like that baby." Javier coaxed you on, wrapping his fingers in your hair. His other hand was gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were turning a ghost-white color. You kept going, easily licking up his silky flesh before deciding to try and take him all into your mouth.
You eased down slowly until your nose was eventually met with the dark, coarse curls at the base of his cock. Javier accidentally hit a bump in the road at the same time your mouth was completely full of him, so it made you gag around his length.
He nearly came right then and there.
"Fuck, okay, okay," He panted, gently gripping your hair to bring your mouth up and off of his cock. "I don't want to cum yet."
You pouted at him, wanting to taste him as you made him cum. Another time, you suppose. You helped him get his boxers back up over his still painfully erect member, pants following suit.
It was only a couple of more minutes before Javier parked outside of his apartment building, nearly dragging you upstairs and into his place. Once the door was closed, he pushed you up against it, capturing your mouth onto his once again. He moved you away from the door and to the couch, where he sat down so you could straddle him. It was a bit hard with the tight jeans you were wearing, but not unmanageable.
His tongue slipped over yours furiously, teeth clashing together as you both simply seemed like you just couldn't get enough of one another.
His mouth moved from yours down to your neck, leaving hot, sloppy kisses in its wake. He got to one spot on your neck just below your ear that had you shuddering with pleasure, and he chuckled softly at that.
He nipped at that particular spot and licked over it, repeating the action a few times until you found yourself grinding your hips into him. The ache in your core was unbearable, and all you wanted was to just be touched.
"Javi, please." You weren't above begging at this point, because fuck did you want his fingers in you and his tongue on you.
"Please what, princesa?" He rasped, grabbing your ass harshly as he purposefully rutted your hips against his.
"I- fuck- need you to touch me. Please." You whine, biting your lip as you look down at him with a pout. He groaned quietly when you gave him that look of feening innocence.
His lips attached themselves to yours again before he grabbed the back of your thighs, parting from your lips to take you to his bedroom. You kissed his neck while he was walking, giving it one long lick up to his ear before he placed you down on his bed.
He hovered over you, placing one knee in between your legs. He grabbed the hem of your shirt before slowly lifting it up and over your head, eyeing the soft flesh of your breasts that spilled out of your bra from this position. His mouth found itself on aforementioned flesh, lightly nipping and sucking down the valley before moving down to your torso. He eventually got to the hem of your jeans, to which he took his time in taking off.
He carefully undid your belt, then the button and zipper. He shimmied the material off of your legs, staring at your nearly naked body in pure hunger and want. He noticed the dark patch of wetness on your panties, and he teasingly chuckled.
"All this for me, baby? Haven't even touched you yet." He cooed, moving between your thighs. He gave your sopping clothed core a kiss, then proceeded to lick over the wet fabric. You moaned, gripping onto his shoulders.
"Need you, Javi." Your words were nearly incoherent as they squeezed out of your throat. You didn't know how else to make the man just devour you already.
"I know, baby. Need you too." Was all he said before gripping your panties and sliding them down your legs. His gaze met your glistening core, and he hummed at the sight.
He got on his knees at the edge of the bed before wrapping his arms around your thighs, tugging you down so your legs dangled off the edge. He moved both of your legs so your calves rested on his shoulders which flexed underneath the leather jacket he was wearing.
He dragged his lips slowly up the inside of your thighs, kissing your core once, before dragging his lips back down. He repeated that twice before he finally decided to stop being a tease and devour you shamelessly. He lapped up your existing arousal before softly sucking on your clit, moving his tongue down your folds and into you a few times before just focusing on your clit. He took his middle and ring finger and slipped them both into you, the thick stretch of his fingers nearly sending you over the edge.
You couldn't fucking believe it. All these years, no man has ever been remotely close to even making you cum, and then Javier Peña comes along. He nearly had you unraveling with just his tongue and fingers with such ease that it honest to god seemed way too fucking good to be true.
"Baby you taste so goddamn good. Fuck." Javier mewled, pulling his fingers out of you. He reattached his lips to your clit as he gripped your thighs tighter. You were rolling your hips into his face at this point, but he was making movement nearly impossible with the weight of his arms.
He then solely focused on your entrance, swirling his tongue teasingly around you before slipping his tongue inside of you over and over again. You choked on a gasp at the sensation, feeling a nearly foreign tightening sensation in the pit of your core.
"Javi." You whined, the sensation getting stronger and stronger until your body trembled, a lick of flames coursing through you as you cried out. You convulsed around Javier's tongue as you came, tears pricking the corner of your eyes at the heavenly sensation. He lapped up your sweet arousal, moaning against you before pulling away.
Your chest was heaving up and down uncontrollably ears ringing and mind hazy.
Javier looked down at your disheveled state, truly quite honored to be the first man to ever make you orgasm. He leaned down and pressed a wet kiss to your lips, tasting your own arousal as his tongue slipped into your mouth. You gripped both sides of his face as your lungs began to burn, desperate for some air. You separated from him reluctantly, looking up into his eyes.
The sight before him was truly pornographic. Your hair was disheveled, eyes glossed over and parted, swollen lips glazed with your own cum as you breathed rapidly. As his eyes traveled south, one of your bra straps hung off of your shoulders and your manicured hand rested on your abdomen. Your legs were spread just for him, and he wished he could take a photo of you like this. Not to be a creep, but because you belonged in a museum.
Part of him was secretly happily selfish that he was the only one who could see you like this in this moment, though. To look so fucked out and needy because of him. The thought alone nearly made him cum in his pants.
"How do you feel, corazón?" He asked, standing up to finally take the constraints off of his erection. He groaned softly at the release as his cock hit his stomach, still red and weeping and glistening with pre cum.
"Amazing." Was all you could muster up before hooking your legs around him, causing him to topple over you. He laughed at your sudden movements, both hands resting on either side of your head. Your hands found purchase on either side of his face, thumbs softly caressing his cheeks.
No one had ever been so affectionate with him. A warm feeling invaded his stomach, eyes feverishly scanning yours.
"You have a beautiful smile and laugh, Javi. Why don't you do it more?" You ask, brushing a curl off of his forehead. He leaned down and nudged his nose with yours, softly kissing your lips.
"I'll do it more for you, corazón." He whispers, and you pull him down for another kiss. This one was soft and slow, a much different pace than the previous ones. This one was full of tenderness and care, something you both desperately wanted but never seemed to get.
In the midst of the slow kiss, Javier moved one hand down to grab his cock so he could slide it between your folds. You gasped against his lips and he peered down at you with a gentle gaze, searching your eyes for permission. You grabbed the sides of his legs gently, silently letting him know it was okay.
He pushed into you slowly, and you closed your eyes at the sensation. He stretched you in a way that was so heady, having you feel so full when he got to the hilt. You closed your eyes in pure bliss, and Javier leaned down once more to kiss your forehead softly. Your eyes fluttered open again and met his soft gaze.
"Keep your eyes open and on me, cariño. Wanna see you." He says as he juts his hips forward, causing you to suck in a breath through your teeth.
He started to pump in and out of you languidly at first, but then it became rapid hip snaps against yours. The sound of pounding flesh and ragged breathing was all that was heard in the room. Javier made sure to kiss you everywhere he could possibly reach in this position, even moving down to softly suckle on your erect nipples after tossing your bra somewhere in the room amidst all of this.
Pleasure washed over your body and you felt that familiar heat licking your core once again. He paused for a second to bring your calves back up to his shoulders, this new angle hitting even deeper inside of you. It was hitting a spot you didn't even know was possible. You cried out his name as you tried to keep your eyes open, but it was nearly impossible with the way he was thrusting so deliciously into you.
"Javi, fuck, I'm gonna cum again." You cry, clawing at the bedsheets.
"Yeah? Go ahead, princesa, I'm right here. I've got you." He says, keeping his pace steady. He felt his own orgasm slowly building, and he knew it was a matter of time before he found his own release. Before your hazy mind could even process it, your body was shuttering again as you clamped tightly around his cock. Your orgasm washed over you once more, a little stronger than the last time.
You were so spent and fucked out, but Javier kept going. He was so close to his release, and he wanted to make you cum for him one more time.
"One more time, baby. C'mon, I know you got it in you." His teeth are gritted, jaw clenched and face so determined.
"Fuck, Javi, I-I can't." You cry, your breathlessness catching up to you. Your lungs were constricting and it was hard to breathe, but it burned so fucking good.
"Yes you can baby. I know it." He says, snapping his hips against yours at a relentless pace as he moved a hand down to rub swiftly over your already abused and overstimulated clit.
"Fuck!" You cried, clamping down on him once more but this time, a gush came out of you. That was enough to send Javier over the edge.
"Where do you want me?" His voice was so severely strangled that you barely understood him, and understood the fact that you only had a couple of seconds to answer him.
"Inside, please. Need you." You clawed at his back now, feeling his warmth spill into you at your words. His hips stuttered as they slowed to a halt, and both of you spent several minutes trying to catch your breaths.
He pulled out of you slowly, both of you groaning at the loss of contact. He plopped down beside you, sweat adorning both of your bodies as your chests heaved up and down.
"Fuck, Javi. That was..." You started once you controlled the raggedness of your breath.
"I'm glad." He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your cheek. You both sat in silence as you propped yourself up on your elbow, tracing mindless patterns on his bare chest with your fingertips.
"I should probably head out soon." Your voice is meek once again.
"Actually, I was hoping you'd want to stay." Javier says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
You hesitated for a moment, before nodding slightly. "Yeah, I'd like that."
And so you and the Agent you swore you despised just days prior to this cuddled up in his bed, not worried about the repercussions that would follow in the morning.
Not the fact that your car was still there at the office and Javier's wasn't, not the fact that you'd be wearing a button-down shirt of his that was way too big on you to work the next day, and definitely not the fact that you two were much friendlier and touchier now more than ever.
It most definitely didn't have anything to do with the fact that you both provided something to each other you haven't had in a long time—
firsts.
-
hehehe hope u enjoyed @cool-iguana ily :')
#pedro pascal imagines#pedro pascal one shot#pedro pascal imagine#javier pena one shot#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena smut#javier pena x f!reader#javier pena x female reader#javier pena fluff#narcos fanfiction#javi pena#javier pena x reader
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what are y'all talking about Stan is a perfectly good cook. newly kicked out, sleeping in his car, you KNOW that boy is washing dishes at some dirtbag diner. now maybe he can't keep a gig for long, he's got a problem with authority and steals out of the register on a daily basis, but while they last it's better than working at a bar cause you get free meals, and you can always drive a few miles out and find another hole in the wall that's never heard of the last one that fired you. so he picks it up here and there, nothing fancy, pancakes and eggs and burgers, stuff that's cheap and filling. he definitely considers ketchup a vegetable, but also eats enough beans and potatoes that he probably doesn't have any serious vitamin deficiencies, even when the sales money pit gets real deep and he ends up dumpstering behind restaurants to scrounge up a semi decent meal. he never has a real kitchen until the shack, and he stocks up on canned food, and saves his bacon grease, and if he burns the hashbrowns he has to eat them anyway so he makes sure not to burn them. maybe he picked up a handful of special dishes on the road, dirty rice, Colombian arepas, fried fish. he certainly doesn't have cash to spare for a lot of fresh ingredients and seasonings, and he keeps insisting that he doesn't need that stuff anyway. but it helps break up the monotony of 50 easy recipes for brown meat.
#grunkle stan is a master of Shit In A Skillet cooking and you cannot convince me otherwise#gravity falls#stan pines#this got away from me a bit. lmao 🤷
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patience
javier peña x reader
summary: javier, your coworker is always trying to take you out but you know his reputation
disclaimer: blood, kissing, reader is referred to as baby by javier
Javier Peña had a reputation—a reputation that preceded him wherever he went. He was the charming, confident DEA agent who could sweet-talk anyone and make them believe he was their best friend, their confidant, or even their lover. In a world dominated by drug cartels, violence, and danger, Javier’s heart was the one thing he never gave away freely. He was a playboy, but there was something about you that made him want to break his own rules.
Y/n was the exact opposite of the women Javier usually went after. She wasn’t impressed by his flirtations or the dangerous life he led. A brilliant agent in her own right, y/n worked alongside Javier in the fight against the Colombian cartels. She was tough, focused, and knew exactly how to handle herself in a crisis.
But Javier wasn’t going to let a little thing like that stop him. Day after day, he tried his best to get under her skin, to make her smile, to win her over.
“Y/n,” he said one afternoon, leaning against the desk where I was sifting through paperwork. “You and I, we should get dinner tonight. There’s a place downtown. I hear the wine’s smooth.”
I didn’t look up from my papers. “I don’t have time for dinner, Peña. We have a case to solve.”
Javier smirked, knowing he’d heard this answer before. “You’re breaking my fucking heart, baby. I thought we were friends.”
My eyes finally met his, but there was no softness in them. “We are friends, Javier. But I’m not going to let you distract me from what’s important. And what did I tell you about calling me that.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “Distract you? I’m just offering a little fun. You work too hard, y/n.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” I replied, the faintest of smiles tugging at my lips.
Javier leaned in closer, his voice dropping. “You deserve more than just work, y/n. You deserve someone who can show you the good things in life. Don’t tell me you’re not curious about what we could have.”
I stood up then, taking a deep breath. “I’m curious, Javier. But I’m not interested. Not like that.”
He watched me walk away, his heart skipping a beat. He wasn’t used to hearing “no.” But he’d never been one to give up either.
Javier was doing his usual thing—teasing, pushing me with his flirtatious remarks, “Come on, baby, stop pretending you’re not into the idea of going out with me. I know you want to.”
I rolled my eyes, but there was that playful spark in my gaze. “Yeah, right. As if you’re actually someone I’d be interested in.” I crossed my arms, keeping him at a distance, but it was clear I was enjoying the banter.
He chuckled, leaning in just a little closer. “Come on, stop playing hard to get. Everyone knows you like the chase.”
I raised an eyebrow, a sly smile curling on my lips. But then, without warning, I stepped forward, closing the space between us so quickly that he barely had time to react. For a second, it felt like I was going to kiss him. My breath was warm against his skin, my eyes locked on his, the tension thick in the air.
Javier’s heart skipped a beat, his pulse racing. Was this it? Was she finally giving in?
Instead, my lips barely brushed the air near his, my voice soft but teasing, “You really think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?” I leaned in even closer, just enough to make him feel like he was on the edge of something, but then pulled back, my smirk widening as I watched him swallow hard.
“I’ll keep you guessing, Javi,” I said, my tone light but with a challenge in my eyes. “If you want me, you’re going to have to do better than that.”
And with that, I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, frozen, trying to shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—I was actually playing him.
Over the next few weeks, our banter became almost routine. Javier would flirt, I would dismiss him, and the cycle would continue. But there was something more between us—something unspoken.
Late one evening, we found ourselves working late at the office, going through surveillance footage from a drug bust. The dim lights and the quiet hum of the air conditioning created an intimate atmosphere. As the hours passed, we grew more comfortable with each other, the usual tension between them fading into something else—something softer, more honest.
“Do you ever get tired of this?” I asked suddenly, my eyes still glued to the screen. “The constant chase. The risk. The lives we’ve lost.”
Javier paused, his gaze drifting to me. He had been asked similar questions before, but something in the way I phrased it made him think harder. “Every day,” he admitted. “But we do what we have to do. The world doesn’t stop for anyone.”
I nodded slowly, my fingers tapping nervously on the desk. “I get it. But sometimes, I wish I could just walk away from it all. Find something… simpler.”
Javier took a step closer, sensing the vulnerability in my words. “And what would that be, y/n? A life without all this chaos?”
I hesitated, my eyes meeting his. For the briefest moment, the air between us felt charged, the chemistry undeniable. I wanted to say something—anything—that might acknowledge the tension, but I held back. I always held back.
But then, Javier’s voice softened. “I think I could show you something better than this life, if you let me.”
For the first time, I didn’t respond with my usual coldness. I met his gaze, my heart beating just a little faster than normal. “Javier, don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
He smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Baby, I never break my promises.”
Days turned into weeks, and the tension between them only grew. Javier still pursued me relentlessly, but it wasn’t just about winning anymore. Somewhere along the way, he had begun to care for her, to want her in a way he hadn’t expected. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something about y/n that made him want to be better.
And then, one night, everything changed.
We were in the middle of a raid, tracking a cartel boss. The operation had gone south, and gunfire erupted from all directions. In the chaos, Javier and me found ourselves separated from the rest of us team. Javier pushed me behind cover, taking the brunt of the bullets as he shielded me.
“Stay down, y/n!” he shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of gunfire. “I’ll cover you!”
But as he turned to return fire, a sharp pain exploded in his side. He staggered but didn’t fall, his hand gripping his bulletproof vest where the impact had struck.
My heart skipped a beat. “Javier!” I screamed, rushing to his side. I saw the blood trickling down the side of his shirt, but I didn’t care about the details. I only cared about the man in front of me.
“I’m fine, fuck that hurts.” he said with a weak grin, his hand on my arm as he steadied himself. “It’s just the vest. I’m good.”
But I wasn’t convinced. The sight of him hurt, the fear of losing him—she couldn’t breathe.
“You idiot,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
Javier reached up, cupping my face with his bloodied hand. “You’re breaking my heart, baby,” he said with a faint chuckle. “But it’s worth it. Every damn minute of it.”
I didn’t say anything. Instead, I kissed him—softly, quickly, as if I were afraid the moment would slip away. But it wasn’t the kiss of a colleague or even a friend. It was the kiss of someone who had been holding back for too long, someone who had finally realized that we couldn’t keep saying no.
When we broke apart, Javier looked at me with surprise and something more—something that made his heart race. “You just kissed me,” he whispered.
My face flushed, but I smiled. “Maybe I did.”
“About time,” he said, pulling me into a hug. “Took you long enough.”
I chuckled, my voice thick with emotion. “I was just waiting for the right moment.”
Javier grinned, his eyes lighting up. “Well, baby, I’m not going anywhere. The right moment is now.”
In the weeks that followed, our relationship blossomed. We worked together, fought together, and when the dust settled, we found comfort in each other’s arms. No longer was it about the chase or the game. It was real, and it was ours.
Javier had always been the playboy, the heartbreaker, the one who never stayed for long. But for me, he was everything I had been waiting for. And when he said, “You’re breaking my heart, baby,” I realized, maybe, just maybe, I was breaking his too.
But this time, neither of us was going anywhere.
#javier peña#javier pena x reader#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena narcos#javier pena x you#pedro pascal imagines#pedro pascal imagine#pedrohub#pedro pascal#joel miller x you
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ordinary, corrupt human love. | chapter 1: written in blood.
Warnings: this series will include highly disturbing/dark topics such as stalking, unhealthy obsession, graphic descriptions of violence, blood and gore, manipulation, gaslighting, large age gap, emotional/psychological abuse, dom/sub undertones, bad BDSM etiquette, etc.
this is a dark fic, written in john's pov and a glimpse of how his mind works. if you still continue to read and get triggered, that is not my responsibility.
Summary: John finds himself a new obsession.
Author's note: this is my first ever fanfic for this fandom and i am beyond excited to share this with you guys! though i must say before you begin, english is not my first language and there might be a few errors in my writing here and there, so i apologize in advance.
but either way, i still hope you enjoy this piece, and i can assure you that once i finish writing this series there will be more to come! i really enjoy writing john wick be a merciless bastard who kills everything that breathes, and i hope you enjoy it too as much as i did.
please, please, PLEASE tell me what you think in the comment and reblogs and likes would be so appreciated. it motivates me to write even more :)
(also this is not edited so all mistakes are on me and i apologize)
Word count: 8.1k
also read on ao3.
It’s one of those days again.
The sound of his watch ticking is the only thing keeping his car from being too quiet. His eyes watch every single movement of his target, never leaving his sight. It won’t be too long for John to finally strike, he just doesn’t want too many civilians seeing the horror that’s about to happen right before their very eyes.
His mind is thinking of many things he could do with this target in particular. A lowlife thug that got himself involved with a very dangerous Italian mob, but then again that’s not the reason why John’s murderous intent is at its peak at the moment.
He’s angry at something, he just doesn’t know what. And this target of his isn’t helping his situation at all. Reading his criminal record made John think this could be a chance to cure his boredom. This man is not only a sex trafficker, but also a pedophile who has a history of targeting teenagers to rape and sell to the black market that’s as fucked up as him.
He doesn’t normally take his time thinking of ways to kill his targets. He points, shoots, leaves. This one in particular though, got him facing a side of him that John himself doesn’t want to face.
He would start by breaking every single one of the man’s fingers. And if that doesn’t do any justice, he’ll cut them off.
One by one, let the man savor the feeling, let John relish the nightmare.
He could slit the man’s throat, watch as life drains away from his body, watch as the man clings to his legs for mercy. John could even pull out the man’s dick, step on it, fucking cut it off and shove it so far down his own throat that he couldn’t scream for help if he tried.
It’s John’s version of Colombian Necktie. A classic, only ever tried it out four times, hopefully this would be the fifth.
John is never the one to take pleasure in killing people, but these past few months have proved him otherwise.
Maybe it’s because of Helen’s death, and the way he was basically forced to sculpt the demons he buried back into himself. His only remaining bit of humanity was taken from him, and he’s coping in the most unhealthy way possible. Perhaps Winston was right about dipping his pinky a little too much into the pond, but it was inevitable.
John has gone back to his old ways. Taking contracts here and there to distract himself from the void in his heart. He remembers how burying a knife into someone’s throat for the first time in many years has ignited something in him he didn’t even know he had.
That’s why he’s here, exiting his car in a swift move, following his target as quietly as possible into a narrow alleyway that stinks of garbage in piss. This would be a nice place to kill a guy like him – right where he belongs.
John’s movements are so discreet the man couldn’t even sense him until John wrapped his right arm around his neck and his other hand went to cover the man’s mouth. He walks them both to the back of a building as the man struggles, where John’s sure no more people are present, and he kicks him on the jaw to stop the man from making any more noises.
John can make this quick. Pull out his gun and blow his brains out. But there’s that sinister glint in his mind that’s telling him to do something unimaginable – grotesque even – a death a man like him deserves.
The man tries to swing his arm at John but misses pathetically. The poor guy’s already shaking and John hasn’t even begun.
John doesn’t respond to the pitiful attempts of questioning who he is and who sent him here, he simply pulls his knife from his pocket and wastes no time slashing it against the man’s throat, the blood spraying all over his face. The man tries to stop it by shakily covering the deep cut with his hand, but it’s useless.
He’s gargling, choking on his own blood, and John’s watching it all unravel with a familiar glint in his eyes.
John is contemplating if he should follow the plan he made in his head or just leave it like this. Somehow, the sight looks rather incomplete to him. He knows what he’s done is not enough, but that could be just the rage talking. The man’s already dead, and surely cutting off his dick and shoving it so far down his throat it comes out of the wound would leave an ugly reputation on his name.
Would that be a good thing? John is already feared enough, would it be a good thing to make people fear him even more? But then again, this won’t be the first time he’s done it. Doing it again one more time wouldn’t make any difference.
He glances down at the dead body on his feet before he kneels down to do the unforgivable.
Slicing off a man’s cock is easy. Too easy. John’s knife is perfectly sharpened and stoned, he merely uses any strength to cut it off. The sight is so fucking ugly, too much blood, but nothing he can’t handle.
Once that’s done, John uses his other hand to force the dead man’s jaw open, immediately greeted by the foul stench of blood as he shoves the unpleasant dick into the man’s open mouth. The genitalia is definitely not long enough to reach the throat, but that won’t be any problem for John.
He grits his teeth as he forces his hand in there, not bothering to care even if the jaw breaks and the hole becomes even wider, his goal is the only thing in his mind.
The blood continues to drip and he has never been so grateful for wearing an all black uniform for this occasion. Soon enough, after a few minutes of such a brutal wrongdoing, John sees the tip of the cock reaching the deep wound on the man’s throat as it continues to peak its way out.
A sick, small smile spreads across John’s face. The smile is barely there, but he’s fucking enjoying this more than he’d like to admit. He can only imagine how the news would spread across the assassin underworld like a wildfire.
The Boogeyman’s back in business and he’s scarier than ever.
Perhaps this might be the way to lay his point across. This is a way to show them that it was not a good idea pissing him off, killing what’s his, and bringing him back in business. They’d regret it, but it would be already too late for that.
John uses his other hand to pull the cock right out of the man’s throat but not completely. Half of it is hanging out and John thinks he could even consider this as a masterpiece. There’d be flies and maggots that would make the scenery better, but the cleaning service is there for a reason. He can’t just not use it.
John stands up from his position, pocketing his knife back into his pocket before retrieving his phone with the other. He dials a number, waits for them to pick up, all while admiring his work on the ground.
His previous contracts these past few months all ended in such an unimaginable, ugly way. He figured that by showing them that he’s capable of such brutality, it would increase the numbers of people calling him in for more jobs, because this is exactly what they wanted. They wanted Baba Yaga, the ruthless killer of the underworld who stops at nothing to finish his job, and he’s simply giving it to them.
Someone picks up the call and he straightens his posture, checking the time on his watch before speaking.
“This is Wick. John Wick, yes. I would like to make a dinner reservation for one.”
The news spread faster than anticipated.
The notorious man John Wick, the hot topic of the criminal underworld at the moment, even gained the attention of The High Table, and it all happened in the span of one day. That’s how quick the news spread amongst his fellow assassins, though that’s exactly what he was going for.
John expected it so he isn’t surprised when he receives a call from Charon saying Winston wants to meet him.
He inserts a coin in the door and the small window opened briefly. The guy on the other side immediately recognized him, not wasting a single moment to open the door and let the man of the hour in. All eyes are on him the moment he steps into the club, but no one dared to murmur anything to anybody – not when the man himself is here.
They know better.
John spots Winston at his usual spot drinking his usual order, signaling John to sit beside him where a glass of bourbon is already present.
“Jonathan,” Winston greets, raising his glass. “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”
“I figured,” John replies, though not interested. He slides himself to the booth and takes a sip of his own drink. “I don’t understand why though.”
“Are we really playing this game, Jonathan?” The manager raises a brow.
“I was just doing my job.”
“In a way you don’t normally do,” Winston then adds. “Or should I say, in a way you don’t even do.”
John gives him a look, but he could tell Winston doesn’t know how to interpret it. His face remains emotionless, not letting the mask slip and grant Winston the privilege to take a peak. John will continue to play this game until he’s satisfied, until he feels something again. Surely he’ll find what he’s looking for while doing the only thing he’s ever good at – slaughtering.
“Let’s just say I was trying out a new technique,” John says, voice deep and almost sinister. Winston’s scared, though he doesn’t show it, John knows.
“I have known you ever since you started, Jonathan. Not once did it cross my mind you would do something so.. horrifying as this. You discarded the body like he was some sort of pig, so believe me when I say I couldn’t believe it at first.”
John has no idea why Winston’s whining about him being horrifying, when that’s all they’ve been saying about him ever since he joined. He didn’t gain this reputation for no reason, now he’s just simply showing them what more he’s capable of.
“You should’ve seen his record.” His tone is menacing, swirling the drink in his hand as he stares deeply at Winston’s eyes. “He’s worse than a pig.”
The drop of the curse word takes Winston by surprise. “So is that what it is, then? You killed him that way because you think he deserved it?”
“Not really,” John simply sighs, leaning back on the leather seat as he takes another sip of his bourbon. He really isn’t planning on staying longer, but Winston seems to be taking his sweet time asking him a bunch of stupid questions. “I couldn’t care less of what he’s done. I was simply… bored. Saying that I did that because I think he deserved it gives people a reason to think that what I did was justifiable.”
The look on Winston’s face says enough. He’s afraid of John, afraid of what he has become. Hearing John say he did such an unforgiving thing just because he was bored is beyond frightening. No man has ever inflicted so much fear on him before – at least not until John.
“I think we’re done for tonight,” Winston finally says, not wanting to hear any more disturbing thoughts of John, but he remains polite and calm for the sake of their friendship. “You have a good night, Jonathan.”
John gives him a nod, standing up from his seat and downing his drink in one go. “Goodnight, Winston.”
He exits the club with an eerie aura following behind him, not caring about the way people are looking at him like he’s got Death himself walking beside him.
It makes him wonder that maybe death doesn’t follow him after all.
Maybe it is him.
Someone offered him five million to fuck up a man who allegedly stole a fuck ton of kilograms of cocaine from their warehouse, and really, who is John to decline the offer?
Hunting the man is easy. It didn’t even take a day to locate where the man lives, and John’s already breaking into his apartment to shoot the guy and leave. There’s no point in rummaging the place for the cocaine, all of it is already up the man’s system by the looks of it, and killing him is John’s job.
John wants to finish this one fast, he’s got other business to attend to. As he backs up the frightened, pathetic excuse for a man against the wall, he takes his gun out of his holster and aims directly at the head, right between the eyes, and he watches in great pleasure as the residue of his brains splatter against the walls and the floor.
This man didn’t even put up a fight. John thinks this is a waste of time.
He exits the apartment with disappointment heavy on his shoulders, slamming the door shut. Although the gun he used has a silencer, the rooms are too close to each other. He’s sure there might be other people who heard the shot of his firearm.
The apartment building is located at the filthy side of New York, where most known drug dealers and junkies do their nasty deals. It’s no surprise that as soon as John steps a foot out of the worn out building, all eyes are on him, but mainly on the clothes he’s wearing. They’re planning on mugging him out, and John would like to see them try.
Just as he’s about to walk to his car, his phone rings abruptly in his chest pocket. He retrieves it in one swift motion, not noticing that a gold coin fell out as he does so, and he continues walking to not waste any more time.
“Sir! Excuse me, sir, you dropped something!” John hears from behind. He doesn’t bother looking.
The call isn’t nearly as important as the business he needs to attend to, so he hangs up the call and pushes his phone back into his pocket. As soon as he does that, he feels a small hand touching his shoulder.
John’s hand immediately flies to wrap his large hand around the person’s wrist, turning around to see a young woman with a bewildered expression on her pretty face, little fingers holding his golden coin that looks far too big on her hand.
She looks scared, terrified, and oh how fucking awful that makes John feel. Like he’s been punched right in the fucking gut. He’s enthralled.
“I wasn’t–you dropped it and I’m just giving it to you, I promise!”
She’s looking at John with big, doe eyes. She also looks freshly showered, wrapped in a black puffy jacket that makes her even smaller than she already is. John lets his eyes linger on her lips, so plump and glossy. Her voice sounds sweet, soft, something John isn’t used to hearing.
John can’t help but to stare.
“Are you–are you gonna let me go, mister?”
The way she stutters triggers a hot feeling in John’s guts, and can’t help but to rub his thumb on the girl’s dainty wrist before slowly letting her go.
So delicate, he could snap them in half.
“Sorry,” John apologizes, taking the coin from her hold, and his fingers itch at the way her skin feels so soft against his rough hands. “Force of habit.”
“It’s okay,” she smiles a little, and there goes that hot curl in John’s stomach once again. “That thing looks expensive so be careful next time.”
Just like that, John doesn’t get the chance to reply back. She makes her leave and patters away from him, and he watches. He watches until she’s out of the view, taking a turn to a corner, leaving John with something he can’t quite figure out yet, but he soon will be.
For the first time in a while, he feels something new.
Suddenly, everything is too good to be true.
John will find himself staring at his hands for too long, still feeling the ghost of her soft skin on his fingers, fantasizing about her pretty face and soft, plump lips.
It’s scary for him to feel something again because that only means destruction. John likes to believe he has a gift of ruining everything he touches, especially the pure ones – like her. It’s a proven statement. Just look at Helen and Daisy.
This little one won’t be any different, he’s sure of it. John’s whole body is heating up everytime he thinks about her. The look on her face when she saw John’s chilling expression, her wide eyes, so glossy and innocent.
John wants to see her again.
His fingers itch, yearning to touch her again.
Why he’s suddenly interested in a young woman he just met a few days ago, he has no idea. John’s a bit confusing – fucked up, even. He long accepted the fact that his mind is nowhere near healthy years ago. He tried to push those thoughts away when he met Helen, but now he’s out of his shell and back in business, there’s no need to.
He’s always been one of the wolves, and now that he’s laid his eyes on his next meal, he will make sure there’s not a single thing that will get in his way to hunt her down.
He had a crisis for two days before doing the unexpected. It didn’t take long for John to find her.
Now, John has been following her around for a week, and he noticed a certain pattern his little one likes to follow as she goes on her day.
The very place where they met is where she lives, surrounded by a bunch of goons who have no idea what to do with their lives. John begins to wonder why she’s living in a place like that. He could take her, put her somewhere safe, under his care and protection. Make sure no one will dare to lay a finger on her.
John knows where she works. At a veterinary clinic not too far from her apartment, which is why she walks to work every three in the afternoon, but not without stopping by in her favorite deli and getting a large order of her favorite sandwich. She’s a part-timer. She’d be at school from seven to twelve, and at work from three to eight.
John finds the little things she does amusing. He’d be seated in a cafe right across from her work, watching how she moves around her office through a big window, petting and cooing at the animals who come and go.
She’s so perfect, so pure, so naive. She has no idea that a monster is lurking ten feet away from her, watching her every move like a hawk, thinking about the ways he could destroy her, make her his.
John is not delusional. He’s fully aware of what he’s doing and he’s aware of what people might call him.
Stalker.
Creep.
They don’t know him though. They don’t know why he acts this way. They’d do the same if they were him, that’s for sure. He’s not the bad guy here, he’s simply just protecting her little one, even from afar. John went as far as destroying a whole Russian Bratva for a mere puppy and a car, he’d do even worse if she’s somehow taken away from him.
John sees her exiting the building and his first thought is to follow her. He stands up from his seat, the cup of coffee long forgotten as he makes his way out of the café and keeps a safe distance between the two of them. It’s risky, especially in the broad daylight, but John knows she’s too oblivious to notice.
She’s with her friends this time, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by John how she clings at the shirt of her co-worker as they cross the street, small hands fisting at the fabric. He thinks about how he won’t ever let go of her hand once she’s his. He’s not big on physical affection, having to grow up with no parents and a rather strict orphanage, but maybe he could be gentle. Engulf her hand in his, stroke it with his thumb, tuck her hair behind her ears, show everyone that she’s already owned.
They wouldn’t dare to lay their hands on her again.
John walks in the middle of the sidewalk, not bothering to move away despite seeing people approaching. He doesn’t need to, the look in his face is enough for people to give him the way. It’s interrupted however, when someone does try to get in his way, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back a little.
John clenches his jaw, pissed. He takes his eyes from his little one and on the person who so rudely interrupted what he’s doing – it’s Marcus.
“John? I was just looking for you at the Continental.” Marcus has a small smile on his face, clearly not aware of John’s expression.
His eyes dart behind Marcus, where his little one is supposed to be, but she’s gone. John feels something curl in his stomach, his fingers itching again, eyes rapidly searching for her in the sea of people.
He looks at Marcus again, deciding he’ll just find her later, but he worries that something might happen to her now that John’s attention isn’t on her.
“Why?” he almost snaps, voice deep and laced with no emotion.
“Why? Because it’s been quite some time, John. I haven’t heard from you since the Iosef situation, but I did hear you’re back in business,” Marcus replies, but when he sees how distracted John looks, his voice falters. “You working?”
“Yeah.” The lie comes off smoothly. “I’ll see you around.”
John taps Marcus’ shoulder, trying to sound as polite as possible even though he badly wants to break a couple of his teeth for taking his attention away from her. He knows Marcus is probably noticing something, but John’s never the one to care.
Marcus drops the subject. “Alright, John. I’ll see you around.”
With that, John disappears in the crowd with no looking back.
It’s been awhile since John last took a job.
He can’t seem to take his eyes away from his little one. He can’t stop fucking stalking her from morning to night time.
John’s afraid that once he takes his attention from her even for a second, something bad might happen to her. It’s engraved in his mind that she can’t protect herself and he’s solely there to be the protector.
No one would understand. He’s doing this for her own good.
John’s absence at the Continental doesn’t go unnoticed by Winston and Charon. They’re his favorite, after all. Watch his every move carefully ever since that ugly murder John did. Perhaps he could make his next kill even uglier. To them, it’s vile and grotesque. For John, it’s special and unique.
This time, it took a good self-beating before John decided to take a contract. Three million to hunt down a rival crime lord, nothing he can’t handle, but somehow it brings an unusual feeling on his shoulder he isn’t fond of. Perhaps because John’s leaving his little one for a while and he isn’t quite sure what to feel. Worried and pissed – but mostly worried.
That is why he hired someone to trail his little one on his behalf. Everyone in business would do anything for a coin despite how fucked up disturbing it is. John offered a generous amount of coins to keep the assassin’s mouth shut, but he also held him at gunpoint and gave him a good talk before he sent the dog out in the field.
His only job is to keep an eye on her, report everything he’ll see to John, and maybe even take pictures for safety purposes.
John has been overseas in the last three days, and everything that’s been sent to him has been his only form of entertainment. There’s videos of her giggling with her friends, videos and photos of her in the library, outside her school, her work, and even in her apartment. There’s also information sent to him about the background of her friends – every single one of them, because John didn’t pay so much for nothing.
There’s one particular friend that ticks off John in all the worst way possible. He’s young, around her age, and the way he hugs and touches her just fucking sets him off. John wants to break his fingers in half. He reminds himself that once he’s home, he’ll make sure to take care of that boy himself.
“What else have you got?” John questions through the phone, and it doesn’t take long for his precious dog to respond.
“Oh, he is one creepy motherfucker. I’m starting to understand why you’re so riled up with this guy, boss. The urge to strangle him every time he gets in the picture gets stronger and stronger everyday.” He hears a laugh at the other end. The guy that’s working for him – Alex, if he remembers correctly – is young, new in business, knows not to fuck with John so he keeps his job adequate. If Alex ever notice how fucked up John is for making him follow a young woman to keep his life in order, he doesn’t say anything about it. “Just tell me when I can shoot this guy and I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”
“Leave him. Keep an eye on him, but don’t kill him,” John advises, his tone leaving no room for discussion. “I’ll handle him myself when I get back. For the meantime, focus on Y/N and keep any troubles out of her way. Fail that task and I’d serve your head hot on a platter.”
“You got it, boss.”
John is playing nicely.
He’s not going to force his way into her life. He’s gonna be welcomed, with open arms, desired.
There are times he’d thought about giving in to his desperation and act with his dick instead of his head. There are times he’d thought about following her to a dark street, where no one’s around, he’s on the prowl and ready to pounce. He’d put a fabric against her mouth and nose, laced with enough chemicals to make her pass out and for him to carry her in his car with no problems whatsoever. John thinks about how he’d make it look like he’s just picking up his very drunk and passed out girlfriend and no one would know a goddamn thing.
John would keep her in his house where she won’t need anything but him.
But of course, he’s not that cruel.
They’re only thoughts. Thoughts that he tries hard to keep away, but at the end of the day he reminds himself that he’s better than that.
John is not going to force his way into her life.
He’ll make sure to get her addicted enough to come crawling at his feet herself. She’ll be dependent on him, won’t be able to live without him. John will make sure his plan will go out smoothly or otherwise he’ll be the one bringing Hell with him on this land and seek as much havoc as he possibly can.
The death emissary himself will strike tonight.
A Friday night out with her friends has John on high alert. That’ll only mean she’s constantly surrounded with people, god knows what could happen if John even takes his eyes off her for a second. He lurks on the side, blending himself with the crowd as much as he can all while keeping his gaze on her.
He doesn’t need any drugs to keep his mind insane, because the sight of a specific man getting very close to what’s his is enough to make him visualize all the ugly and twisted ways to kill a man.
She’s wearing a thin silky dress that’s low on her cleavage and shows her perky breasts. She’s currently the flame in a room full of moths, John included. Everyone’s eyes are on her, observing the way she sways her hips and sings along to the loud music – John’s fingers itch.
The itch to kill is back again, driving into his veins, his hands twitch on the table. John wants to pull out his gun and shoot everyone in this fucking room. He wants to stab them in the eyes one by one and make them feed it to themselves. He wants to grab this guy on the neck and slam his head against the wall repeatedly until his brain scatter all over the fucking place and there’s nothing left for him to ruin.
This guy is getting on his fucking nerves.
John watches as the man smoothly brings his arm on her shoulder, whispering something in her ear that doesn’t make her look so impressed. In fact, she looks disturbed, uncomfortable, tense. Despite the guy being her friend, John could tell she doesn’t feel comfortable with the way he’s showing her affection.
It’s hard to see her like this, but he knows he can’t just jump in between the two of them and beat the shit out of the guy until he chokes on his own blood. He’ll have to wait, maybe after this party, he’ll strike and discard the body in a way that’ll make even Winston spook in his sleep. It’s not a major offense to kill a man that’s not in the game anyway – or at least that’s what John tells himself.
This guy wouldn’t be able to be three feet near his little one once John’s done with him. He’ll be six feet under.
John sees her swiftly moving away from his touch, trying to make her rejection look as polite as possible, which receives a not-so-amused reaction from her little friend.
This guy doesn’t deserve her at all. No one does. Except maybe John, but that’s because he knows he’s capable of actually taking care of her and keeping her safe. Nobody would understand what he feels, what he yearns, what he wants.
Good girl, John thinks. Walk away.
His gaze follow her as she makes her way to the backdoor and out to the cold air of the city. John follows in a hurry, keeping a safe distance between the two of them, then opens the door as quietly as possible so he wouldn’t let his presence known.
There are a few people on the street, either having a smoke break or making out against the piss stained wall, but she stays just beside the busy road as she wraps her arms around herself.
His gaze burn daggers on her exposed back, the urge to cover her up with his jacket and take her home. A drunk man comes stumbling out of the club, accidentally tripping over his steps and he pushes her hard enough to make her yelp as her heels lose balance and almost making herself get run over by a passing truck.
Almost.
Everything happens so fast. One moment John is standing five feet from her, the next is he’s grasping her wrists in his hand and pulling her back to her feet and dragging her back to the curb. He was already on the act once he saw the man exiting the club, he knew exactly this would happen.
The scene looks strangely familiar, one John could never forget. The same position, same hand placement, same rough fingers around her wrist and dark eyes boring into hers – their very first meeting.
“You!” she gasps, not caring about the fact that she almost just got hit by a fucking truck. “I know you! You’re the guy outside my apartment that day! What are you doing here?”
John stares. Predictable. Of course she’s talking to him like they’ve known each other for years. She’s too friendly.
“Hello to you too,” John replies, though his tone is blank as well as his face. “You remember me.”
“‘Course I do,” she giggles, a little tipsy, pupils dilated and licking her lips nervously. “You’re pretty hard to forget. I remember asking my neighbors around the area if you’re new there, turns out you were just visiting.”
John furrows his brows, hand still not letting go of her wrist. What does she mean by she’s asked around the area about him?
His face must’ve looked confused, he sees her grinning childishly. “It’s a coincidence that I see you again!”
Not a coincidence, but fate.
John doesn’t believe in a lot of things, but he believes in fate. Fate brought him Helen, and now fate is bringing him another angel. If she really went as far as asking the neighborhood about his existence, then it must be fate.
“I’m Y/N. I figured if we keep bumping into each other then you should at least know my name,” she says, completely oblivious that John already knows everything that has to be known about her. From her little mannerisms to the last name of her fucking grandmother. “May I know yours or are you just gonna stare at me all night?”
“It’s John,” he gulps, not wanting to look like a loser in front of her, not after everything he went through for her. “It’s really nice to see you again.”
He sucks at this. He fucking sucks at this.
“You haven’t answered my question, by the way. What brings you here?”
It hangs in the air, John lets go of her wrist. Luckily, he thinks fast enough and says the first thing that comes to his mind. “Work.”
“Ah, work,” she nods. “You work here? In the club? What are you, a bouncer or something?”
“I don’t. Someone I work with is in the club.” A lie, but it’s not like she would know. “We had a talk.”
“Not really a man of words, eh?” she raises an eyebrow teasingly.
“This is the most words I’ve said in the past few days,” John says. “I’d say you’re special.”
The look on her face is enough to make his entire night even better. Blushing, lips opening and closing, not knowing what to say. John wants to graze his thumb on her lips, thinking about how good it would feel stretching over his cock.
He blinks. Where did that come from?
“For someone who doesn’t talk much, you sure make it sound smooth when you do. Are you always this slick, John?” she giggles again, music to his ear. “That’s actually better than what I heard from my friend earlier, so thank you.”
“That’s good to know.”
Before she could say anything back, the door of the club opens once again and her friends appear, waving a hand at her and beckoning her to get inside. She looks at John, gives him a sympathetic look, as if apologizing that their talk gets cut off too soon.
“I’m really sorry but my friends want me back in there. Hopefully we can continue this again, yeah?” she smiles cheekily, tucking her hair behind her ear. “If you want, you could give me your number so we can talk someplace else? You know… with no one bothering us and all that.”
There it is. John didn’t think it would be this easy to sink the hook in. All he needs to do is pull and take what’s meant to be his.
“Sure.” He enters his number swiftly, feeling that familiar burn in his guts once again when he sees the wallpaper being her pretty face. “Feel free to message me whenever you want. I’ll make time for you.”
She looks at her phone and smiles before starting to walk away from him, waving a hand goodbye, but it doesn’t feel like a goodbye. John knows it isn’t. She’s already his the moment she started talking to him again.
“Of course! Get home safe, John! I’ll see you soon!”
“You too.”
She doesn’t know John won’t be heading home any time soon until he knows she’s safe and sound in her apartment.
Jay Lopez.
The name burns on his tongue. Bitter and resentful. He stares at the photos his precious dog sent to him and he has to stop the impulse to burn every single one of them.
Jay Lopez is the guy that’s been leeching on his girl since the dawn of time, and thankfully John is here to put an end to it.
He’s hideous. It’s interesting how John stooped this low that he’d be willing to kill a college student for being too near his little bambi, but alas, he’s never the one to care for such things. Morals and righteousness have never been in his book, not now, nor ever.
It’s only a matter of time until he gets rid of this pest. He’s fucking creepy, follows around not only Y/N but a bunch of other women.
John doesn’t want his death to be quick and simple. He wants to do it in an ugly way, make sure his body will never be found, make sure he’ll never get to lay his hands and eyes on what’s his. The way Jay stares at her in these pictures ignites something evil within John’s veins. It’s been awhile since he felt something like this.
“Alex.” he looks at his pet standing by the door, waiting for the next command. “Bring him to me alive.”
“Can I at least rough him up a bit?”
John doesn’t answer at first, looks back at the photos on his table. “Do what you want, just make sure he’s still breathing when you bring him here.”
“On it, boss.”
Truth be told, John doesn’t need a pet to order around for this job. He has himself – a labeled attack dog of the Tarasovs for years, their hellhound, chained and muzzled unless they need him to kill. He’s a one man army as some would say, he doesn’t need Alex running around doing tasks for him, but it sure does make the job a lot faster.
It’s not a way to downgrade his reputation nor skills to hunt, he really just needs this Jay guy gone as fast as possible.
On the same day, Alex manages to haul a very brutally violated Jay to the floor of his basement. He stinks, pants wet from piss and a face John is having a hard time recognizing.
“You said rough him up a bit, not make him look unrecognizable.”
“Same thing.”
Jay is sobbing his eyes out, his cries of pleas falls to deaf ears and John just wants to fucking bash his skull with his own foot. “W-who are you guys?! What the f-fuck did I do?! Get me out of here or I’ll tell the fucking police–”
John kicks him on the chin hard to stop the goon from rambling. “You’re not telling anybody any shit, tough guy.”
“So, what are you planning to do to him? Can I watch?”
“Can you handle it?”
Alex shrugs. He’s in the presence of the most dangerous assassin in the underworld, wouldn’t hurt to learn anything from his skills and techniques, doesn’t matter how fucked up it is.
John nods towards the chainsaw sitting at the corner of the room, and Alex turns to face him with wide eyes. “Jesus Christ, man. You serious? Last time I heard you’re a hitman, not a serial killer.”
“Same qualifications. Same thing.” John grabs the man by the arm then drags him to a chair. He takes a rope from the table and swiftly ties him up securely. “We start with the head, then arms and legs. It would be hard to put his entire body in a drum full of acid, so we need to cut him off one by one.”
Alex looks like he’s about to run off somewhere safe from what he’s witnessing. “You’re talking like you’ve done this before, holy fuck.”
John gives him a look, and Alex immediately shuts his mouth. Right. He’d done this before. This is completely normal.
“I’ve been following you for a while, Jay. You’re a creep who befriends pretty girls, then you’ll drug them and make them have sex with you,” John taunts, the sound of his heels hitting the concrete floor is enough to send shivers down his spine. “Is that what you’re also planning to do with Y/N? Be her friend and fuck her once she’s drugged up and vulnerable?”
It’s a bold statement coming from John himself since he’s no better man than Jay, but at least his intentions come from a different place.
“You-you’re fucking sick!” Jay spits.
“I’m sick? I’m not the one going around making girls uncomfortable now, am I?” he picks up the chainsaw, then watches in enjoyment as Jay widens his eyes in fear. “We’re going to have a lot of fun, Jay. You won’t be able to use your pathetic little dick of yours to any woman ever again, and most importantly –”
John fires up the chainsaw, adrenaline coursing through his veins when he sees the horrified look in the man’s face as he tries to get up and scream for help.
“I can finally sleep well at night knowing you’re not in Y/N’s life anymore.”
As John steps into the light, a roaring chainsaw in his hands, Alex could only watch in horror as the basement gets painted with blood in mere seconds.
There’s a vacant apartment just across her room, giving John the perfect view of what she’s doing while she’s alone.
Most of the time, John will pull up a seat beside the window and take pictures. The other half of the time is just him staring, observing. It seems that she’s too comfortable knowing there’s no one across the building so she doesn’t close the curtains, leaving John no choice but to keep his eyes on her.
He found this place just three days after following her. He couldn’t help it. Following her to school and work suddenly wasn’t enough for John that he had to find a way to somehow watch her even in her sleep.
He should be ashamed of himself. He should feel guilty for what he’s doing – he should stop, but he just can’t. John’s already done too much. This is like being pulled back into the underworld all over again but this time, there’s something good that’s waiting for him on the other side.
Maybe it’s the delusion that comes with it that’s not stopping John from whatever he’s doing. Lately, he’s been thinking about how life would turn out to be if his plan goes out smoothly. They’d live happily ever after, she would end up loving him just the way he planned it out to be, and John will make sure no one will ever dare to take those peace away from him again.
He’d make sure no one will ever come close to her again once she’s his. She’d be isolated but protected. Just how John likes it.
It’s been two days since John gave his number, but he knows she’s just giddy and nervous to text him. He’d seen her staring at her phone, biting her bottom lip anxiously, thinking if it would be a good idea or not. He knows she’ll give in one way or another because he sees it in her face. She’s too easy, too gullible, too naive.
She’s lonely, just like him.
John could tell she’s waiting for someone – she’s desperate, no wonder she asked for his number the second time they met. She wants someone to take care of her, to hold her, tell her that she deserves the world. That someone is John whether she likes it or not.
This isn’t just any unhealthy obsession. John finds himself too deep to get out. He knows her little mannerisms, studied her every action, has a red room full of her pictures and no one can’t say he’s not ready to give up anything for her. John has already given up his sanity ever since he mutilated a man for being too close to her.
She’s his life now, his everything.
John watches intensely as she shreds her clothes in her room, baring him the full view of herself naked, and John grips the side of his chair too hard his knuckles turn white. This is the first time he’d seen her naked, it’s so sudden and so… perfect.
His cock fattens in his pants as he observes every curve of her body. Her waist is fucking perfect and her body is thick yet delicate. John thinks about bruising her sensitive skin, leaving a mark that will show everyone that she’s owned. He would love to see her in a collar, hear it jingle when she crawls.
She’s completely fucking naked that John wonder just how naive she is to think there would be no one seeing her like this. What if John isn’t the only one watching her? What if somebody else sees her like this? His fingers itch, jaw clenching.
He’d kill them. He’d kill them in front of her, and the thought somehow made his cock hard even more. He grimaces, disturbed at the reaction of his body.
John doesn’t really understand the sexual aspects of killing, but now he’s thinking about how she would react if she sees him working. He’d kill someone in front of her and he’d see the look of disgust and betrayal in her face. He can already imagine how her eyes would well up with tears and fuck, his dick shouldn’t be this hard.
She’d fear him, and John would be turned on. How fucked up would that be? Just how fucked up can his mind get?
He resists the urge to wrap his hand around his cock because fuck no. He would not stoop this low, he is not a teenage boy. No matter how strong the thoughts get, the thoughts of wrapping his own hand around her neck, squeezing it hard and cutting off her airflow as John forces his cock in her cunt, hearing her mewl and scream and beg to just –
John sucks in air, eyes back on her in her room, wrapping a robe around herself and heading to the bathroom. This is fucked up. His cock is incredibly hard and leaking, and his mind won’t stop thinking about how good her pussy would feel around him.
He’d talk her through it. Whisper sweet nothings in her ear as she releases around her cock, praising her for being such a good girl. Then he’d fuck her again, in a different position, debauching her in different ways not even the devil himself could think of.
John would ruin her, and she will have no choice but to accept it.
He brings his hand to his face as he sighs deeply. He wonders what Helen would feel of what he’s doing. Disgusted, no doubt. This is not the same man she fell in love with years ago. He would never do something like this, but fate has its plans, and John believes everything happens for a reason.
She was brought into his life for a reason and it’s up to him whether he takes.
John doesn’t realize that he’s been staring at nothing for too long until she comes back in his view once again. Her hair is still wet, still wrapped up in a fluffy pink robe, and John’s fingers itch to grab, squeeze, possess.
He sees her picking up her phone, staring for a moment before her fingers start typing. John has been anticipating this moment for so long, the time has finally come.
In his chest pocket, his phone buzz silently, the vibration sending excitement in his whole body.
There it is.
13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : hello! this is Y/N from the club the other night
13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : also that Y/N who returned your super expensive looking coin hehe ;) i hope you didn’t forget about me!
There it fucking is.
John’s lips curl into a small smile. His efforts are finally paying off.
All he needs to do is to get what’s his.
#john wick#john wick x reader#john wick fanfiction#john wick imagine#john wick fanfic#john wick chapter 4#john wick x you#john wick 4#keanu reeves#john wick smut#ochl#my works
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that's right baby, say my name.
minors dni! nsft & eighteen plus only !
javier peña <3
word count: i have no idea i wrote this out in tumblr, roughly 1k ?
warnings: eighteen plus! hand cuffs, roughness?, degradation, face slapping once, minor tit play, female fingering, name calling, piv, cockwarming?
he presses you up against the wall, hands behind your back and you hear the metallic jingle of handcuffs, feeling them click around your wrists, the cold metal was a shock to the humidity of Colombian heat.
you felt a his face close to yours, hot and his breath went down your back. "you've got me running around this damn city looking for your ass" he whispers in your ear. "y, aquí estas, breakin' into my fuckin house".
he was flushed, jeans hanging low on his hips, barely enough time to have got out of bed and dressed before he had you pinned in your current position. "mi amor, you know better than this," he chastised and you felt his bare chest near your arms from the way he had you.
"javi" you said softly with a faux whine "you're hurting me", to which he responds flatly, with resonance of a chuckle, "you're breaking my fuckin' heart, baby" and he grabs you, hauling you up over his shoulder, carrying you from the kitchen to the lounge, chucking you onto the couch.
"what am i going to do with you?" he rubs his hands over his face, before moving them over his eyes in frustration. he moves down to hold his hand, twisting the rings that lay on his fingers. "what the hell are you even doing here? i could get into so much shit for even seeing you."
you look up, catching his gaze in yours, "javi please, i just had to see you, I've missed you".
he scoffs at this and sits next to you with a sigh, "missed me have you, cariño?" he turns his face to look at you once more, muttering under his breath "fuckin' missed me...".
the silence fills the room and he groans, like he's fighting with himself. eventually he speaks up to your surprise. "a la mierda.." you look up in surprise at this and his lips are latched onto yours, to which you let out a shocked moan, pushing back against him.
he reaches round you to undo the cuffs, but grabs your arms before you can move them to pin them beside your head. deepening the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and he lets out another moan, his body pressed to yours.
eventually he pulls away and he grabs you, sitting you on his lap, leg each side of his, and you feel his hard on pressing into you. he takes his hand and trails it up your body from your legs, to your stomach, kissing and sucking on your neck as he does, his hand reaches up and he squeezes your tits, playing with the nipple, evident through your thin shirt.
you grind downwards onto him, your skirt flayed out, thin underwear and denim barely stopping the sensation it sends through you and him. his hand comes up to rest on your jaw and he pulls it back, slapping you round the face gently, just to surprise you.
"still like it rough from me huh?" he acknowledges your moan to it. "una sucia puta" he pulls you up, pulling your skirt down and lifting your shirt over your head before grinding you back down onto him. he takes you in fully, eyes raking your body in everyway.
kissing your tits again, he sucks on them, and you feel yourself getting wetter by the second. "please javi, i need you". he lets out another dark chuckle at this "oh baby, what do you need?" he teases, grinding up into you again.
"you, baby, please" and he nods, leaning you down onto the couch, so you're body in under him, he rips off your underwear, running his finger up your cunt, collecting the wetness and rubbing it onto your clit, making your legs jolt. he moves his finger down, playing with your entrance, before placing a finger inside you, smirking at your moan, as you grip his neck.
"oh buena chica, my angel" he teased, moving it in and out at a steady pace, adoring the way your body moved under his and he sees your hands working their way down his own body, unzipping the fly on his jeans, and moving your hand into them, over his boxers to cup his hard cock, bucking into your hand.
he removes his finger, much to your dismay, standing up and kicking his jeans and boxers off at once, standing over you and stroking his cock, he looked beautiful, and for a second you'd thought you had died, taking in the sight. he smiled at your reaction, leaning down to kiss you, clambering on top of you.
you reach up to run your hands through his hair and he looks at you with adoration. "my beautiful girl" he kisses you softly, distracting you from the feeling of his cock lining up with you. without warning he thrusts into you. both of you letting out a moan at the feeling. "ah mierda, so .. fucking tight" he buried his head into your shoulder and you scratch up his back, getting used to the small burn of the stretch.
looking up and into your eyes, you nodded to him and he propped himself up on once arm, beginning to rock into you, the feeling overwhelming you both. he was always so hard for you, "cmon baby, wanna hear you" he encourages and you begin to moan out for him.
"javi please, just use me" you blurt out and he obliged, rocking back and forth into you, his hips rolling to meet yours hitting every spot just perfectly, practically made for you. "javi, please you feel so fucking good" and he groans into your ear.
"thats it baby, say my name, tell everyone whose cock you're crying for huh?" he strokes your hair, before moving his hand down to play with your clit, sending a near electric pulse through your body, having you moaning his name so loudly, you were sure to have woken the neighbours up "that's right mi cariño, say it, say my name when you cum"
he knew your body like the back of his hand now and he felt you clenching round him, the feeling was perfect and the next thing you knew was heat as you release finally, soaking his cock with yourself "ah! javi, fuck"
he stutters out a moan, following closely behind you, his body collapsing gently on you, cock still nestled warmly inside. he places a kiss to your forehead.
"god, you're gonna be the death of me"
#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal imagine#javier pena headcanon#javier pena smut#javier pena imagine#javier peña smut#javier peña imagine#narcos imagine#narcos smut#narcos
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