#Javier pena fanfic

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Long Distance

A followup to Suburban Sparks Pairing: Javier Peña x Steve's Little Sister Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: He knows he shouldn't fall for you, he knows he shouldn't pick up the phone, but you're all he can think about. Warnings: Javi's POV, angst, guilt, yearning, pining, heartbreak, impressionist paintings, using a Clairo lyric as a play monologue, jealousy, smut, phone sex, secret bathroom sex, dirty photos. Takes place after S3. Words: 8,320

A/N: Written for @almostfoxglove's Angst Challenge, who made the GORGEOUS mood board for inspo. It truly fit the vibes of exactly what I was thinking would be the next step for Steve's Little Sister and Javier. My thanks to @devineconjuring, @mothandpidgeon, and @schnarfer for filling up my draft with suggestions, reactions, and edits and always letting me yap and ... them. Suburban Sparks Masterlist Masterlist

—-

His heart thuds against his chest with every descending step. He hears the clatter of plates and silverware mixed with soft conversation– hears your voice. You’re awake. His eyes immediately catch yours when he walks into the kitchen. You sit at the breakfast table in an oversized sweatshirt that hangs off a shoulder, the same shoulder he kissed before he snuck out of bed and back to his room across the hall.

You’re so beautiful, he almost falls as he takes a seat.

“Damn, Peña, still drunk?” Steve asks as he flips the last pancake.

“Just tired,” he responds. “Morning,” he casually nods towards you, trying not to let his gaze stay on you for too long.

You nod a casual “hey” as you reach for the orange juice, your fingers wrapping around the glass. He loses his breath as he remembers how those same delicate fingers felt wrapped around him.

“Coffee, Javi?” Connie asks, pulling him from his reverie.

He nods, mumbling a response as you smirk. This is going to be an interesting breakfast.

“Good breakfast, thank you,” you say as you rise. “I’m going to get a shower before I go back home. Landlord still hasn’t fixed the hot water heater.”

“Help yourself,” Steve nods. “And Jesus Christ, find a better place.”

Javier takes a sip of coffee until the thought of you under the warm running water, naked and wet, flashes through his mind. He coughs as he chokes on the hot liquid.

"You okay there, partner?" Steve asks, eyebrow raised.

Javi nods, clearing his throat. "Yeah, just went down the wrong pipe." 

As your footsteps fade upstairs, Javi focuses intently on his breakfast, avoiding Steve's gaze. He can feel Connie's eyes on him, a hint of suspicion in her expression.

He eats his breakfast, listening closely to the rumble of the water heater as Steve and Connie discuss their plans for the day. The water heater turns off, snapping Javi back to the thought of you just upstairs.

"I should get ready too," he mumbles, avoiding eye contact as he picks up his plate and coffee cup, dropping them off by the sink. "Thanks for breakfast."

“‘Course, you’re our guest,” Steve says.

As he climbs the stairs, his heart races. The guilt over Steve sitting just downstairs getting drowned out by the anticipation of seeing you again.

He passes the bathroom door and then retraces his steps, standing in front of the white wooden blockade. You’re right behind the door. He knocks softly.

The door cracks open, a cloud of steam escaping as you peek out. Your face glistens with moisture, drops of water clinging to your skin. You take his breath away.

Your eyebrow quirks up before you open the door wider, stepping aside to let him in. He slips inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. You’re wrapped in a towel–one measly towel. A drop of water trails down your collarbone to between your breasts, and his mouth waters, thinking of how good it’d taste.

"Javier," you whisper.

He steps closer. "I know, I know. We shouldn't."

But, as the words leave his mouth, you’re already reaching for him. His mouth crashes against yours, desperate to taste you again. You instantly mold into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as he backs you against the cool tile wall.

The towel slips, pooling at your feet. He breaks the kiss, his eyes reverently roaming your bare skin. “Fuck,” he breathes.

You grab the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them down. “We don’t have much time.”

He nods, helping you pull down his boxer briefs, his cock already hard for you, weeping to feel your tight pussy around it.

He lifts you onto the countertop, spreading your legs wide and groaning when he feels how wet you are for him. Your eyes stare into his as he sheaths himself in you, both of you gasping at how good it feels. Your legs wrap around his waist and pull him closer as he begins to move. His hands grip the counter as he quietly fucks into you, the faint sound of his skin against yours and your soft moans echoing off the tile.

His tongue licks a path down your neck, tasting the condensation on your skin. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” is softly repeated against your sensitive skin. The way you softly moan back makes his legs weak. You sound so good, you taste so good, you feel so good.

Your hips meet his as his thrusts become more urgent as he listens for the sound of footsteps on the stairs. He wishes he could savor you, hear you scream his name, fuck into you for hours, but he can’t. He has to be quick. His hand travels down your smooth skin, and his finger begins circling your clit as his other hand grips the plush of your breast, kneading it in his hand. Your head falls back, your bottom lip captured between your teeth to stop yourself from making any more noise.

It’s forbidden and wrong. He knows this, but the way your body trembles underneath his touch, your hands exploring the broadness of his back, your tight pussy beginning to clench around his cock–he can’t say no to you. He circles your clit faster and harder, his fingers working in quick, tight circles as he fucks into you faster. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps, your nails digging into his shoulders as you fight to stay quiet.

“Cum for me, baby,” he whispers. “I need to feel you cum.”

Your body tenses, a strangled moan escaping your lips before he presses his mouth against yours, swallowing your cries as he chases his own release. You pulse around him, and it’s too much. He buries himself inside you, his body shuddering as he cums, spilling inside of you. He stays buried in your heat, even though he knows he needs to leave. He just can’t. He rests his forehead against yours, listening to your soft gasps, trying to savor the moment for as long as he can.

“Wow,” you whisper, your voice lilts in awe.

He nods, trying hard to swallow the guilt. “I know.”

He pulls out slowly, both of you wincing at the loss of each other.

You hop off the counter, grabbing your towel, and wrapping it around yourself again. Javi tucks himself back into his pants and runs a hand through his disheveled hair.

"You should go," you say softly, not meeting his eyes. “You know… just in case.”

He nods, his hand already reaching for the doorknob. "Hey," he says, waiting for you to look at him. When you do, he sees the conflict in your eyes, knowing it mirrors his own, but he ignores it. “What’s your number?”

—-

The phone line hums, building a bridge between Laredo and Washington, D.C. He waits all day to hear the sound of your laughter spill through the receiver–sweet and warm, like honey. Most of the time, silence settles between the two of you, content to just stay on the line with each other 1,800 miles away.

He’d always be the one to call. Phone bill be damned, he made good money.

On some nights, after too many whiskeys or beers, he’d let some of the burden of Colombia off his shoulders. He’d tell you about the girls, the bodies, the nightmares. You’d meet every revelation with understanding and acceptance, letting him talk as little or as much as he wanted. 

It’s simple and comfortable, something he never felt like he deserved. But he can never have simple and comfortable–there’s always a complication. You are Steve’s little sister, after all.

He hates nights like this when the guilt creeps in and gnaws at him. The world is hushed, his thoughts loud. He tosses and turns, sheets tangling around his legs as he wrestles with his heart. He’s falling for you–Steve’s little sister. The same Steve who had his back in Colombia, who became more than just a partner.

He stares at the ceiling, your voice always echoing in his head.

It’s been three months since he met you at that ordinary suburban party. He replays everything in his head to calm himself–your smile, the sweet lilt of your voice, your wide eyes as you stared at him. The sound of your muffled moans escaping from behind his shirt, the warmth of your body pressed against his as you drifted to sleep.

Now, the memory of your soft skin under his fingertips haunts him, an almost bittersweet reminder of what he can never have. It could never work. Steve’s so protective of you that Javi can’t even imagine how he’d react if he knew someone like him was falling for his baby sister. He can’t do that to you… or Steve.

You’re in your twenties, still full of life and promise. While he’s forty, scarred from the long life he’s already lived. He pictures you growing resentful, feeling held back by his world-weariness, longing for someone more carefree and unburdened. He’s not the one for you, though you’re the one for him.

He turns, shuffling his cold sheets up around his shoulder as he stares out the window. One night spent together in his friend’s backyard and guest bedroom. One morning spent in a white-tiled bathroom. Countless nights on the phone.

He thinks about you curled up on the couch during your late-night calls, wrapped in an oversized sweater, your voice soft and sleepy. He dreams of one day being on that couch with you. In a perfect life that he’ll never have.

—-

Javier Peña never reads the news. He doesn’t pay attention to the news. He doesn’t care about the news. He doesn’t want to hear about the news—that is, until you entered his life.

“Any news?” he asks, hearing the rustle of your newspaper crackling through the phone.

“Hmm, lemme see.”

He can imagine you scanning the headlines, your finger running down the text, brows furrowed in concentration. You love the news, love reading and learning, love being informed. Now, Javier Peña reads the news.

"Ohh! The Smithsonian's got a new exhibit opening next week. An Impressionist Sensibility. It says the paintings in the collection are linked through a shared sensibility about American cultural aspirations at the turn of the century."

"Yeah?"

“Yeah, it looks really cool, Jav.”

He loves it when you call him Jav. It’s so casual, so comfortable. Nobody ever calls him Jav besides you. He listens intently as you read, letting the sound of your voice wash over him.

"Sounds pretty interesting. Sounds like something you have to see in person."

You hum in agreement, a wistful note in your voice. "It does. Maybe someday we could…"

The sentence hangs unfinished, both of you acutely aware of the complications that keep you apart. He clears his throat, pushing away the surge of longing that threatens to overwhelm him. Move on, agent.

"My turn," he says, unfolding his paper. "Let's see what thrilling news Laredo's got today."

—

“Tell me I did good, Jav. Tell me to stop obsessing over it. Tell me they didn’t notice I paused a little too long between lines.”

He chuckles. “You did amazing. I’m sure of it, cariño.”

He doesn’t know how you can be so brave, going up onstage in front of auditoriums full of people. All eyes on you. He could never do what you do.

“Really?”

“I’d surely cast you if I could.”

“Mm, I’m sure you would,” you respond. He can hear the smile in your voice.

You’ve been so nervous over the audition for the play. He remembers how you'd practiced your lines with him, how he stayed up late listening to you recite the main monologue over and over just so he could hear your voice. He could hear the emotions. You’re so talented, there’s no way you’re not going to get the part.

“You’re going to get it, cariño.” 

"You really think so?" you ask, a hint of hope in your voice.

"I do. When will you find out?"

"Rehearsals start next month, so hopefully soon," you answer.

"You've got me to keep you distracted."

“I swear, I’d lose my mind without you…”

—-

He’s lying in bed awake again. He’s getting to a point of no turning back with you. He closes his eyes, and all he can see is you.

“I swear, I’d lose my mind without you…” repeats through his head.

He reaches for his phone on the nightstand. It would be so easy to call, to hear your voice one more time. But he can't. He won't.

Instead, he pushes himself out of bed, padding barefoot across the hardwood floor of his apartment to the sparse but functional kitchen. He pours a glass of whiskey, hoping it’ll help drown out his thoughts.

This feeling is so foreign to him. He hasn’t felt this way about anybody since Lorraine–and even then, he fucked that up. He shouldn't have let it go this far. Shouldn't have knocked on the door of that guest room, shouldn't have kissed you like a drowning man praying for air. But he did. And now he can't forget.

You’re too young, too bright, and too adventurous. You’re so full of potential. What the hell are you doing talking to him every single night? He has to step away and let you go. But he won’t. Because underneath all of those accomplishments and pursuits, he’s still a coward.

—-

You softly moan into the phone, and he can hear the swishing of the sheets as you get comfortable on your bed. He can almost see you, feel you, remember how sweet you tasted. He thuds his head against his pillow, an ache of loneliness from his heart traveling down to his cock. 

“You can’t do that, cariño,” he lowly growls.

“Huh?”

“Moan like that,” he responds. Now, he’s the one adjusting. “I–it’s been a while.” 

You chuckle, a low, tempting sound. He’s in trouble. It’s been a month of talking to you almost every night, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t constantly fighting the urge to touch himself while listening to your voice. But he’s resisted, not wanting to cross that line and make things even more complicated than they already are. 

“Sorry, my bed feels really good. Quite lonely, though,” you pout, your voice dripping in saccharine sarcasm. 

Fuck. He’s so needy for you, he’s already growing hard.

“What are you wearing?” he asks, feeling a little ridiculous at the question, hoping you’re just as turned on as him.

“Don’t laugh. Promise you won’t laugh.” 

“What? Why would I laugh?” he smiles, shaking his head.

“Because Javi. Just… don’t laugh or judge.”

“I won’t. Trust me. Tell me what you’re wearing.”

“Your green shirt.” 

His spine straightens. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“Anything else?”

“No.”

“Fuck,” he whispers. “You wear it a lot?”

“Mmhmm, I sleep in it all the time.” 

“I’m sure it looks real good on you, doesn’t it?” 

“I think it looked better when it was stuffed in my mouth while you were fucking me.”

He groans, his heart racing as he reaches down and grips the heft of himself tucked away in his shorts. 

“That was a good night, wasn’t it?” he asks, softly squeezing himself. 

“It was one of the best, Javi. I think about it all the time.” 

“Me too,” he divulges, remembering the brightness of your eyes, the sweet taste of your lips, the feel of your pussy clenching him. “I also really liked the morning in the bathroom.” You laugh–a sweet sound that makes his heart beat even faster–before you sigh. “I wish you were here, Javi.” “I do, too, cariño.” 

“What would you do if you were with me?” you ask, your voice low. You’re such a temptress.

His voice drops to a sultry whisper as he closes his eyes and imagines you in his bed. "I'd start by getting you out of that shirt, real slow. I’d get to take my time and kiss every inch of skin."

You let out a soft moan. "Mmm, then what?"

"I'd push you back onto the bed, trail my fingers up your soft thighs." His own hand mimics the motion, sliding up his leg. "I’d spread your legs and kiss my way up, before giving your sweet pussy a long lick, savoring just how good you taste."

"God, Javi. Please," you whimper.

"Touch yourself for me, baby. Pretend it's me."

He can picture you perfectly–laid out on your bed, his shirt bunched up around your waist, your hand between your legs.

You let out a gasp and a long, low moan. He pulls his shorts down and gives himself a tight, slow stroke.

“Feel good, baby?” he asks, rubbing the bit of precum he’s leaked out across his head.

“Mmhmm,” you moan. “I love it when you call me baby.”

“Baby,” he groans as he spits in his hand and strokes himself.

“Fuck, I’m so wet,” you breathe into the phone.

“I wish I was there with you, baby. I'd slide two fingers deep inside your tight little pussy, curl them just right to make you moan for me." He strokes himself faster, imagining the slick heat of you clenching around him.

You let out a whimper. “I need you inside me.”

“I need to be inside you too, cariño,” he replies, his hand moving faster along his length. “Tell me how badly you want me.”

“I want you to fuck me hard and fast,” you moan. “God, I think about it all the time, Jav.”

He grunts in response, imagining your body writhing beneath him.

“Oh god,” you cry out.

He squeezes his cock harder, picking up the pace as you whine and moan for him.

“You sound so good. I love the way you moan for me. You’re all I ever want to hear.”

“Fuck,” you pant. “Gonna cum.”

“That’s it, cum for me, cariño.”

You let out a loud moan as your orgasm hits. It floats through the phone into his ear and down to his cock. He lets out a long, low “fuck” as he reaches his own release, grunting your name as his cock pulses in his fist, streams of cum spilling out onto his hand and stomach.

All that can now be heard is heavy breathing and soft moans as you both come down from your highs.

He feels the guilt begin to show its ugly head just as you say his name.

“Javi, that was… wow.”

“I know, baby, I know.” 

—-

He pulls an envelope out of his mailbox. Your handwriting is neat and flowy–he smiles at the bright green marker you chose.

So, this is why you wanted his address.

He’s opening the envelope before his door even shuts. He hasn’t been this excited to open something since Christmas morning thirty years ago.

He pulls out a handmade card–a dark green Christmas tree adorned with little red hearts is painted on the front, with MERRY CHRISTMAS JAV written in cursive above it–and his face lights in a wide grin.

As he opens the card,  a bundle of Polaroid photos tied together with a ribbon falls out and lands on the table.

A simple message is inside the card.

Surprise! I hope you like them. xoxo

With a quick pull on the silky ribbon, the bundle is untied. He slowly flips through each photo, his heart skipping a beat as he assesses each one like evidence.

You’re smiling in a few of them, his green shirt hanging loosely off your shoulders. You look so beautiful, so carefree and happy. He traces a finger over one, wishing he could touch you.

His breath catches in his throat as he flips to the next photo. You’re still in his shirt, but you sit, wearing only that on your bed. Your smooth legs bent to the side of you, your eyes hooded, with a coy smile playing at your lips. He swallows hard as he flips to the next photo.

His mouth goes dry. You’re completely naked, lying back on your bed. Your body is on full display for him. He runs a hand through his hair, feeling slightly dizzy, his cock twitching at the sight of you.

It feels so forbidden, so wrong to have these photos of you.

“Fuck,” he whispers when he turns to the next picture. You’re kneeling on your bed, your hands resting on the back of your neck. Your tits are pushed out, your nipples hard. He can see the glistening wetness between your thighs. He wants to taste you so bad.

The following picture makes him gasp. You’re lying across your bed, one hand gripping the soft swell of your breast while the other is between your legs. Your lip is caught between your teeth. He can almost hear the breathy moans you’re letting out.

He flips to the next one, and his cock throbs painfully against his jeans. You’re on your hands and knees, your head turned, peering over your shoulder at the camera. The sight of your ass makes his mouth water. He wants nothing more than to grab your hips and pull you back onto his aching cock.

With a shaky breath, he reveals the final Polaroid. Your hand is outstretched towards the camera, a drop of your arousal glistening on your fingertip as if you’re offering him a taste of you. The image is so visceral he can almost taste you.

He sits back in his chair, the Polaroids tightly clutched in one hand while the other palms himself through his jeans. This is, without a doubt, the best gift he’s ever received, but he still feels wrong to have it.

—-

“So, any news?” you ask, your voice still a bit slow and low from the orgasm you just moaned out for him. It’s now a nightly ritual–phone sex followed by sharing local articles.

He scans the headlines. “The Laredo Little Theater is putting on a production of Our Town next month.”

“Our Town! I was Emily a few years back.”

“I-I’ve never seen it.” Frankly, he’s never heard of it. He’s never really seen a play–unless he counts the couple of productions Lorraine was in during high school. He wishes he was more cultured for you.

"I still remember my lines. Emily's monologue at the end about realizing what she missed in life. It's always stuck with me."

He leans back against his headboard, intrigued. "Tell me about it, cariño."

You clear your throat softly. "Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you. Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it — every, every minute?"

“Wow,” he whispers after a long pause. "That's beautiful, baby.”

“Thanks, Jav. I just wish…”

Your voice trails off, and his chest tightens.

“I know,” he sighs. “Me too.”

He knows exactly what you’re thinking. If only things were different. If only there wasn’t a shadow of guilt and secrecy. He knows he’s already fallen for you.

Silence stretches. He clears his throat. “Your turn, cariño. What’s in the news?”

—-

Another sleepless night, another internal battle, another lonely sunrise, another cup of black coffee to try to wake him up.

The shrill ring of his phone cuts through the silence, startling him from his brooding. He glances at the clock–8:17 a.m.–an unfamiliar number with a DC area code on the screen.

"Peña," he answers gruffly, his voice rough from whiskey and lack of sleep.

"Mr. Peña, this is Agent Thompson from DEA headquarters in Washington. I wanted to inform you personally that we'd like to offer you the position."

The job. The one he'd interviewed for months ago, the reason he'd been in DC. The reason he'd met you. He should feel elated, triumphant even. Instead, dread settles in his stomach and heart.

"Mr. Peña? Are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here. Thank you for the offer. When, uh, when would you need me to start?"

"We'd like you here in two weeks, if possible. Is that doable?"

Two weeks. Fourteen days to uproot his life, to move across the country. Fourteen days to figure out how to tell you… or if he should tell you at all.

"Mr. Peña?"

"Yes, that's fine. I'll make it work," he says, his mind already racing.

After hanging up, he stands motionless in his kitchen, the half-empty whiskey glass from last night sitting on the counter. The job he'd wanted, the fresh start he'd been seeking for so long–it's all here for him. But now, it feels like a curse.

He imagines being in the same city as you, knowing you're just across town. The temptation to see you, to touch you, would be constant. And Steve–how could he look Steve in the eye, knowing what he's done with you?

The guilt gnaws at him, heavier than the weight of everything else. He should be honest, should tell you about the job offer. But the words stick in his throat every time he thinks about picking up the phone.

Days pass in a blur of packing and paperwork. You try calling, leaving a message each time. They start out sweet until the third day when you sound upset.

"Javi, hi, it’s me. I-I don’t know what’s going on, but please call me.”

Each night, he stares at the phone, his hand reaching to grab it. But he can't bring himself to dial. Can't bear to hear the excitement in your voice when he tells you he's moving to DC.

On the sixth day, you leave another message.

“Hey Javi, it’s me again, I… I hope you’re okay. I… did I do something? Please just call so I know you’re okay.”

He has to call you. Has to think of some way to let you down because he knows, deep down, that he can't have you. Not really. Not without destroying his friendship with Steve, not without ruining your relationship with your brother. Not without tainting the pure, beautiful thing that's grown between you.

By the tenth day, you’re mad.

“Hey, Javier. I ended up having to ask Connie if she had heard anything about you, so that was real fun. Listen… I don’t know what the hell is going on. If you found someone else or… got tired of me, but I just—I hope you’re happy. I… I guess I’ll… I don’t know. I hope you’re fine.”

His heart clenches as your voice cracks on the last words. He can hear the hurt, the confusion in your tone, and it tears him apart. 

He can't take it anymore–the guilt, the longing, the fear. It's all too much. He picks up the phone and dials your number.

Ring… ring… rin–

"Hello?" Your voice is hesitant, guarded.

"It's me," Javier says. "I'm… sorry."

There's a long pause on the other end. He can hear you breathing, can almost feel the tension radiating off of you through the line.

"Javi?" You sound uncertain, like you can't quite believe it's him. "Where have you been? I've been so worried."

He closes his eyes, leaning against the wall. "I know, I'm sorry. There’s been a lot going on. I… I got a job offer last week. The job in DC is mine."

Another pause. "Oh," you say softly. "Javi… that’s great news. Congrats.”

"Thanks," he says before taking a deep breath, steeling himself for what he knows has to be said. "Listen, I-I think it’s best if we don’t keep doing this."

The silence on the other end of the line stretches. He can almost picture you, your eyes wide with confusion and hurt.

“This?” 

“Yeah, talking and… I just fear it’s gone too far.”

"What?" you finally whisper, your voice barely audible. "Why?"

He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He feels his heart break as the words get caught in his throat, but he forces them out. "It's complicated. I’m so much older than you, and you’re… you're Steve's little sister, and I’ll be working with him again. It's not right. It was never right."

He hears you take a shaky breath. "So, you ignore me for over a week and then call to let me know this? I know you’re older than me. I know I’m Steve’s sister. That’s fucked Javi. How could you? I thought we had something speci—”

"I know," he interrupts. "I know, and that's why we have to stop. Before it goes any further. Before anyone gets hurt."

You gasp, and his heart clenches at the sound. He wants to take it all back, to tell you he didn't mean any of it, but he forces himself to stay silent.

“Yes, before anyone gets hurt…”

“You deserve more than me, cariño. I’m old, and I’ve been through so much. You’re still so young and full of life… I’d only hold you back. I’m sorry.”

"I see," you say, your tone suddenly cold and distant. "Well, thank you for your honesty, Agent Peña. I hope your new job in DC is everything you've ever wanted."

The formality in your voice cuts him deeper than any anger could have. He opens his mouth to speak, but you've already hung up. 

—-

He stands at the windows of his new apartment in Arlington, gazing out at the lights of DC across the Potomac. Snow falls outside, and he reminds himself he needs to buy some warmer clothing. It’s beautiful, he thinks. His eyes search the horizon, wondering if your building is visible.

His apartment is nice–modern and spacious with sleek furniture that doesn’t suit him. It’s more than he needs, really, but the DEA had been generous with their relocation package. It doesn’t feel like his place at all, but a Polaroid of you that leans against his bedside lamp makes it feel like home.

He'd chosen this place for the view, telling himself it was because he'd always wanted to live somewhere with a skyline again. But deep down, he knows it's because he wanted to look out at the city you love.

He imagines what you might be doing right now. Are you curled up on the couch, reading a book? The newspaper? Are you, like him, standing at a window, looking out at the city and wondering what might have been? Or are you out with your friends, trying to meet somebody else? Do you miss him like he misses you?

He tries to dislodge the thoughts with a shake of his head. It’s been two weeks since that phone call. Since he broke things off. Since your cold voice let him go. He tells himself it was the right thing to do, that he’s protecting you from the darkness that follows him.

In a perfect world, you’d be here, looking out the same window as he wrapped his arms around you. You’d lean back against his chest, fitting perfectly in his embrace. There’d be no hesitation, no guilt. Just pure happiness, waking up next to you every morning. In that world, Steve would be happy for you both. In that world, Javier would be happy. But he knows all too well this is not a perfect world.

—-

He goes to the Smithsonian alone, wandering through the halls of the art museum on a quiet Sunday afternoon. The same exhibit you read to him about. The same exhibit he dreamed of taking you to, holding your hand and kissing your cheek as you gazed at the paintings. He moves slowly, hands clasped behind his back, taking in each painting. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, how to describe what he’s seeing, or how to feel… he wishes you were here to help him understand. None of it makes sense to him. Are the paintings supposed to look unfinished and kind of blurry? He imagines you beside him, telling him all about the break from tradition these paintings represented. He’d nod, pretending to understand, the same way he’s nodding as he reads the guidebook.

He pauses before a painting. Vibrant flowers grow amongst the dappled sunlight–the bright colors remind him of the way your eyes light when you laugh. He can almost hear your sweet voice reading the exhibit description to him again. He wonders if you’ve been here, if you’ve stood in this very spot, admiring the same painting.

As he moves to the next painting, a flash of familiar color catches his eye. For a moment, his heart stops. A woman stands across the room, her back to him, wearing a dress in the same exact shade of green as the shirt he’d left you. She resembles you from the back, and he takes a step forward, your name on the tip of his tongue, before she turns.

It’s not you. Of course, it’s not. All that’s left now is a hollow ache in his chest.

What would he do? What would he even say? What is he doing here, a cop trying to be cultured?

He moves on, trying to focus on the art. He thinks of you again, imagines your voice in his ear. “Art is for everyone. There’s no right or wrong way to experience it. Just let yourself feel.”

Feel. He doesn’t want to feel. All he can feel is how much he misses you. How much he knows he’ll never have this with you, seeing the world through your eyes.

Each painting seems to hold a piece of you. The soft light of a Twachtman landscape captures the glow of your skin in the firelight. The bold strokes of a Sargent portrait remind him of your spirit and personality.

He pauses in front of a Renoir. A man leads a woman, her hand in his. His eyes focus on their fingers intertwined with each other’s, imagining the feel of your hand in his. He rubs his hand against the denim of his jeans, trying to warm the coldness running through his veins.

He turns away, unable to bear the sight any longer. The weight of his regret, his longing, settles heavily on his shoulders as he exits the gallery.

He'd pushed you away to protect you, but being here, surrounded by a softer, more beautiful world, he wonders if he made the right choice.

—-

He finds himself driving through the busy streets of Adams Morgan, the same neighborhood you call home. His heart pounds stronger with each turn as he navigates the unfamiliar roads. 

He parks his car and steps out onto the sidewalk, feeling out of place as he takes in the colorful row of houses and stores that line your neighborhood streets. He walks down the street, his eyes scanning the bright buildings until he finds the taco place you’d always rave about.

“I bet it’s just as good as Laredo, Javi,” he remembers you saying. “You have to try it when you’re here.”

He hesitates for a moment before pushing open the door. The small restaurant is packed.

His order is simple: two al pastor tacos and a Topo Chico, just like you’d recommended. He takes a seat at a small table by the window and waits for his order.

How many times have you walked down this very street? Have you sat at this very table?

He takes a bite of the taco. It’s good. Damn good. Almost as good as home. He can practically hear your triumphant "I told you so!"

People pass by on the sidewalk as he eats. He imagines you and him–his arm wrapped around you, your body close to his as you walk around your neighborhood. Your face lighting up as you show him all of your favorite places. He'd follow you, unable to resist your enthusiasm… or you.

The winter wind snaps against his skin as he steps out of the restaurant. He starts walking with no real destination in mind. Colorful murals, bright storefronts, and eclectic homes line the street. This is your world, he realizes. These are the sights you see and sounds you hear every day.

He wonders how close he is to your apartment. He imagines you coming home from work and stopping at one of the little bodegas on the corner for some milk or bread.

He doesn’t think he’d fit in well within this world, but he sure as hell would try, just for you. God, he misses you.

—-

Steve drops a pile of files on Javi’s desk.

“New case. Have some fun. So, how’s DC treating you?” Steve asks, casually leaning against his desk.

He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. Trying to hide the sadness that consumes him. “It’s different from Laredo, that’s for sure.”

Steve laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “Yeah, I bet. Hey, you should come over for dinner sometime. Connie would love to see you. I’ll invite the usual group.”

Javier’s heart skips a beat as he tries to keep his face neutral. “Yeah, maybe,” he says noncommittally. “Been busy settling in, you know how it is.”

“Well, find time, Peña.”

The guilt, a constant companion these days, gnaws at him as he watches Steve leave.

—-

The early spring evening is warm. His heart beats faster as he gets out of his car and walks up the pathway to Steve’s front porch.

He steps through the front door, breathing in the scent of a happy home, feeling so out of place among the marital bliss and designer furniture.

“Javi,” Connie breezes over, looking like the perfect hostess she always is. She pulls him in for a hug. He’s always liked her, felt comfortable around her.

"Hey, Connie," he says, returning her hug. "Thanks for having me."

"Of course! I’m so happy to see you," she beams. "Come on, everyone’s outside.”

Everyone. Does that include you? He's never been this nervous, not even when he saw Lorraine after all those years.

He follows Connie through the house, his eyes scanning for any sign of you. His heart races as they step out onto the back patio. Steve's at the grill, chatting with a few friends. There are kids running around the yard, couples mingling with drinks in hand. But no sign of you.

It’s as familiar as all those months ago. He felt like an outsider… until he met you. He still searches for you. Still no sign.

"Beer?" Connie offers, already reaching into a cooler.

"Thanks," he nods, taking the cold bottle from her. He takes a long swig, trying to calm his nerves.

"Peña!" Steve calls out, waving him over. "Get over here, man!"

He makes his way across the patio, overhearing a snippet of conversation. He hears your name and slows his pace, straining to hear more.

“She’ll be a little late. Rehearsals for the play ran long.”

The play. You got the part. In a perfect world, he’d be there on opening night, sitting in the front row with a bouquet of flowers for you. He’d watch you, so proud and in awe of your talent. After the show, he’d wait for you backstage, hold you close, and whisper in your ear how amazing you were.

Pride swells in his chest… until the guilt creeps back in.

“Hey, man,” Steve’s voice breaks through his daydream. “Did you hear me?”

“No, sorry. What?”

"I said, glad you could make it," Steve repeats.

“Oh, yeah, me too.”

“A couple of guys from work are here. I’m sure they’d love to get to know you. I’m tired of answering all of their questions about you.”

He lets out a tense chuckle. The last thing he thinks he can do is pretend to care about a group of rookie agents wanting to get to know the Javier Peña.

He really hates these parties.

—-

An hour passes. The sun begins to set, casting everything in Steve’s picturesque backyard in long shadows. Javi goes through the motions. He makes small talk with his new coworkers and Steve's friends, laughing at jokes he barely hears. His eyes keep darting to the gate, waiting for you to arrive.

He remembers the first time he saw you. You walked through the gate, your flannel shirt tucked haphazardly into your ripped jeans. He couldn’t look away from you. Maybe he knew he needed someone like you in his life–honest, bright, funny, and too cool for him.

He hears the click of the gate latch. His breath catches as he turns.

And there you are.

You look so beautiful. A plaid skirt sits just above your knees, paired with a simple white tank top under a soft, oversized cardigan. His heart hurts as he takes in your beauty, trying not to stare. You look happy, relaxed, glowing. He wonders if you know he’d be here tonight.

His rapidly beating heart sinks when you turn to say something to a man following you through the gate.

The man’s wavy chestnut hair falls perfectly in place, and thick-rimmed glasses are perched on his nose, framing bright green eyes. He’s wearing a vintage t-shirt underneath a well-worn brown leather jacket. Everything about him screams, ‘hip theatre guy.’ The exact opposite of an old, grizzled DEA agent haunted by his past.

He envies the man with everything in his entire being. The way he gets to look at you–a wide smile, soft eyes that get to follow your every movement.

Javi’s jaw clenches as he watches you and your handsome stranger approach a group. Your eyes also scan the backyard, and for too quick of a moment, they meet with his… until you look away and laugh at something your companion just said. The sound feels like a knife twisting into his chest.

He’s hyper-aware of your presence all night, watching you from the corner of his eyes, each sight of you a blessing and a curse.

He tries to focus on his conversations, on Steve, on his coworkers–on anything but you. But his eyes keep drifting back. The man who came with you never strays from your side, his hand often resting on the small of your back or brushing against your arm.

He wants nothing more than to cross the patio, pull you aside, and explain everything. To beg for forgiveness, to tell you how much he misses you. But he stays rooted in place, trapped by his own choices and the consequences that followed.

The gathering begins to thin out as the night goes on. He watches as you say goodbye to a few guests, hugging them warmly. Your eyes sweep across the yard again, and for a moment, he thinks you might look his way. But you turn, whispering something to your companion before heading towards the house alone.

Before he can second-guess himself, he sets down his beer and follows you. He slips through the patio doors and can just make out the soft pad of your footsteps heading upstairs.

He follows you as if you’re a perp, softly ascending the stairs–just like that morning after he first met you. The light escapes under the door of the guest bathroom. He takes a breath, steeling himself as he waits for you to come out.

The knob turns, and his heart races as the door opens, revealing you in the soft light of the bathroom. Your eyes widen in surprise.

"Can I... can I apologize?" Javi asks hesitantly.

You shake your head, your voice barely above a whisper. "No, Jav. You can't."

Jav. Fuck. Hearing you say his name makes his heart drop. His hand taps against his thigh, fighting the urge to reach out and pull you into his arms.

"You hurt me," your voice trembles. Each word feels like a dagger in his heart. "I'm... I'm trying to let time pass by. To move on."

“Please, I never meant to—”

His plea is cut short by the sound of footsteps ascending the stairs.

Connie appears, her keen eyes taking in the scene before her. She reaches for your hand while shooting Javi a glance. She understands without a single word spoken.

“Go on, love, go back to the party. Elliott is waiting for you,” Connie softly says to you.

He watches as you nod and quickly leave, not even sparing a glance back at him.

“Javier,” Connie says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “She’s happy.” 

He swallows, his brown eyes rounding with the guilt he too often has to hide.

Connie's eyes soften as she looks at him, her hand still resting on his shoulder. She leads him to the guest room where he spent that first night with you.

She closes the door and motions for him to sit on the bed. The same bed he held you close on.

"Javier," she begins, her voice gentle but firm. "I know what happened. I know you care about her. And I know she cares about you. She told me.”

He looks up at her, surprised by her words. "She told you? About us?"

Connie nods, a sad smile on her lips. "She was heartbroken. That first month after you told her not to call, she was a wreck. She tried to hide it, but Steve mentioned you while she was here for dinner one night, and she… she quickly got up and made an excuse. I found her crying in this room. She told me everything.”

“Steve?” he asks, feeling even more guilt wash over him, the weight of his choices crushing his chest.

She shakes her head. “He doesn’t know. I promised not to tell him.”

“I had to let her go–for her, for Steve, for everyone." He hangs his head, staring at his clasped hands. He squeezes them harder, needing to let the pressure out somehow. He searches for the right words. "She’s happy now? With him?"

Connie nods. "Elliott is a good guy," she says gently. "He treats her well. But..." She pauses and then sighs. “But I don’t think he’s you.”

A flicker of hope ignites in his chest. “How do I fix this?”

“I don’t know. If you really want to make things right, you need to tell her how you truly feel."

He nods slowly. “I can't stop thinking about her. About what could have been."

"If you really care for her–if you're willing to face whatever might come from being with her–then you need to let her know. But if you're going to run away again at the first sign of trouble, then you have to let her go. For good this time."

“And Steve?”

“Listen, he’s a big softy underneath it all. Might take him a bit to come around to it, but I’ll hide his gun for you. I know that, in the end, as long as she’s happy, he’ll be happy.”

He nods. He knows you’re the one. “Thanks, Connie.”

She stands, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Just think about it, okay? And whatever you decide, be sure. She deserves that much."

Connie leaves him alone in the bedroom. He runs his hand along the comforter, closing his eyes, and can almost feel the warmth of your body curled against his. He wishes he could hold you again.

He takes a deep breath, his decision made.

—-

The house lights dim, the audience hushes, and the stage lights brighten. The curtain draws back, and there you are, center stage, glowing like an ethereal being.

His heart soars with pride as he watches you mesmerize the crowd with your talent. You embody your character completely, and he’s in awe of you even from his seat in the back row.

He hears the familiar lines of the end monologue–the same lines he heard you recite over and over months ago. They transport him back to those nights spent on the phone with you. The familiar ache in his chest gets tighter, squeezing his heart harder. A lone tear wells in his eye as he mouths the final line with you.

“I’d rather be alone than a stranger.”

The crowd erupts into applause as the curtain closes. You were flawless. He knew you’d be amazing.

You return to the stage, a wide smile on your face, the stage lights glinting off unshed tears in your eyes.

Now’s his chance. He slips out the stage door, walking down a side hallway marked "Authorized Personnel Only." In this hand, he clutches a bouquet of bright flowers and the day’s newspaper.

He pauses at each door, reading the names scrawled on makeshift placards. He finally finds yours, glancing over his shoulder before gently turning the doorknob.

He’s never been in a space of yours before. He knows he has to be quick, but he takes a moment to breathe in the scent of your perfume.

He places the bouquet and newspaper on the vanity, before quickly exiting and slipping out the stage door.

—-

Javi paces in his apartment, unable to sit still. He can still hear your voice and picture how you looked under the stage lights.

It’s been hours since he left the flowers in your dressing room. Did you find them? Did you read his note? Has enough time passed?

He pours himself a glass of whiskey, hoping it might calm him.

As he raises the glass to his lips, the shrill ring of his phone cuts through the quiet. He sets down his drink and reaches for the phone.

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself before answering. "Hello?"

"Javi." Your voice is soft and hesitant. He closes his eyes, smiling at the sound he's missed so much.

“Hey,” he says, a relieved smile lighting his face. “Congratulations. You were incredible.”

“Thank you. The flowers are beautiful… and the newspaper?"

His heart speeds in his chest. “I-I was hoping we could read the news together like old times?”

Silence hangs between the two of you as he waits for your response.

“I’d… I’d like that. What’s your address?”

[gothcsz]

Visitation | Javier Peña x F!Reader | ~4.3k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Javier visits you in prison after putting you in there.

Tags: SMUT, pwp, dirty talk, cursing, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, cock worship, ball sucking (we're doing it all!), unprotected p in v sex, bi!reader, mentions of f/f sexual activities, creampie, 2 degrading uses of the word(s) 'slut' and 'bitch', untranslated spanish, reader has hair that can be put into a ponytail and carded through, mention of reader losing weight, no use of y/n, reader is afab and able-bodied, little to no physical descriptions, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, barely beta'd, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: so this is def inspired by me being put into horny jail for no reason! straight up indulging in this fantasy, if you couldn’t tell by the bi!reader tag 🙂‍↕️ javier peña i went to jail for you, the least you can do is screw me right 😇 thanks to @ovaryacted for slithering into my brain and convincing me to write this, same with @probablyreadinsmut for lowkey enabling it too, lmfao. oh, and how could i forgot, this is my ride4ride fic for @javierpena-inatacvest lol she gave us this sexy masterpiece right here and i told her i'd write a riding fic back so voila! i hope you guys like it, we are so back (kinda... sorta...) 🖤

Javier leans back in the stiff, uncomfortable chair, fingers drumming lazily against the surface of the scratched-up table. The dim, fluorescent lights cast an unflattering yellowish glow over the grimy glass partition that separates him from the other side. The air in the room is stale, the only sound filling the emptiness is the slow, torturous ticking of the analog clock above the heavy steel door.

Every second drags until finally there’s movement. The shuffle of boots. The metallic clang of cuffs. And then, the slow, aching creak of the door.

There you are.

Dressed in that drab gray jumpsuit, wrists shackled in front of you, your hair pulled back into a ponytail. His eyes roam over you without shame, mapping the way your body has changed, the slight weight you've lost—but fuck, you still look so damn good. 

Like a fucking feast laid out before him. The curve of your hips is there, the same mouth he’s spent nights getting lost in still just as plush, just as dangerous.

Your eyes lock onto his and you freeze, the recognition flaring in your dark, narrowed gaze before your full lips part, nostrils flaring. The guard grumbles under his breath, nudging you forward and you move reluctantly, making a whole show of it; like you’d rather be anywhere but here with him. But Javi knows better. Knows the way your pulse is probably kicking up, just like his. Knows that despite everything, you still feel it too.

You sink into the seat across from him with a huff, and he watches as the cuffs come off, his own fingers flexing at the sound of metal unclicking.

You snatch then lift the receiver to your ear, and he follows.

“What the fuck do you want?”

That voice. Laced with biting attitude and something else he knows all too well—resentment, sure, but beneath that? Heat. Lust. A wound that never fully closed.

Javier wets his lips, his mustache twitching as he suppresses the smirk threatening to curl at the corners. Goddamn, he missed this. Missed you.

“Chiquita, why you bein’ so hostile?” His voice dips low, smooth as whiskey, feigning innocence. His brows draw together in a mock pout,  savoring the way you bristle at his tone. “Figured you’d be happy to see me.”

Your scoff is immediate, eyes rolling hard. “Have you forgotten why the fuck I’m in here in the first place?” You snap, no patience for his bullshit.

That attitude is what hooked him in the first place. You were never the type to be tamed, never the type to fall in line like the others. You made him work for it, played the game better than anyone. Had him chasing after you like a man possessed.

The way you writhed beneath him, nails scratching down his back, thighs locking around his hips, your breathy little gasps turning into full-on cries when he gave it to you just how you liked it—it was intoxicating.

It made him reckless, made him stupid. Made him a fucking addict for you. He lost himself between your thighs too many times to count, missed calls, ignored protocol, fucked up royally—all because of you.

And when shit got too messy, when the walls started closing in, he had to make a choice.

So he chose.

Chose to play you, to make you believe turning yourself in was your only option. 

And yeah, maybe tricking you wasn’t exactly the cleanest way to do it, but Javier always did have a habit of getting what he wanted—one way or another.

“¿Sigues en eso?” He tilts his head, settling back in his chair like he’s got all the time in the world. “I’m workin’ on getting you out.”

Your laugh is sharp, humorless. “Oh yeah? ¿Y por qué debería creerte? Eres un maldito mentiroso.”

He doesn’t flinch, shoulders rising and falling in a nonchalant shrug. “Because I’m the only one taking care of you right now.”

Silence. He watches the shift in your expression, realizing that he’s the one putting money on your books, making sure you have what you need. That despite it all, despite how he fucked you over, he’s still the one looking out for you.

Your lips press into a tight, furious line. Then—

“Fuck you.”

You slam the receiver down, the sharp sound slicing through the air, and he feels it—the thrill, the heat licking down his spine. You turn away, signaling the guard that you’re done, but he doesn’t move. He just glances at Javier, waiting for his cue.

Javier gives him a lazy nod.

And just like that, the guard steps out of the room, leaving you two alone.

He watches as your lashes flutter shut, as you take a slow, measured breath like you’re trying to get a grip. And then, just as quick, you whip back around, snatching the receiver again.

Yeah. That’s more like it.

“What do you want?”

He leans in, forearms bracing against the table. “I just wanted to see you, baby. Been missin’ you a whole lot out here.” He sees the way your resolve wavers, however briefly, under the weight of his stare. “Still so fuckin’ pretty.”

You can try to act indifferent all you want, but Javi knows you. Knows what happens when he leans in close, when he lowers his voice, when he looks at you like this.

“Miss that pussy even more,” he murmurs, tongue swiping slow over his bottom lip. His gaze drops lower, like he can see through the fabric of your jumpsuit, down to the heat between your thighs. “You been takin’ care of her in there?”

You tilt your head, eyes glazed over with mischief, giving him a slow, sultry once-over. “You really wanna know?”

He doesn’t answer—doesn’t have to. His tongue drags out again, a deliberate movement, and your eyes track it, just like he knew you would.

Javier watches your pupils dilate, sees the memories flash across your face—the same ones flooding his mind. His tongue buried inside you, lapping at every inch of your cunt, drinking your heady sap while you quivered beneath him.

His cock twitches in his jeans, stiffening against the rough fabric.

“Found someone to help me pass the time,” you murmur, watching his reaction carefully.

His expression tightens, the easy arrogance in his face slipping for just a second before jealousy flares hot in his chest. His mind goes straight to the worst fucking scenario—some sleazy correctional officer shoving you against the wall, making you take his cock like you belong to him instead. The thought burns.

“Who?”

You bite your lip, clearly enjoying the shift in his demeanor. Letting the tension linger, stretching it out until you finally purr, “My cellmate.”

Javier exhales shakily.

His jealousy shifts, transforming into something filthier. His cock throbs painfully against his zipper as his mind floods with sinful images of you—your naked body tangled with another woman, fingers buried in her cunt, lips slick and shining as you look up at her with those heavy-lidded eyes he knows too fucking well.

Jesus fucking Christ.

His hand slips beneath the table, palm pressing against the thick bulge in his pants, fingers flexing as he tries to keep his composure.

“And she’s been takin’ care of her?” His voice is rough, laden with interest.

You hum, mirroring his stance, leaning in close until your breath fogs up the scratched glass separating you. “Leaves me satisfied every time. Can’t complain… had to teach her a thing or two, though.”

“Yeah?” His hand continues to palms his growing bulge under the table, thumb stroking over the fabric, imagining your lips wrapped around him. “She spoilin’ you? You fucking her too, gettin’ your mouth full of pussy or what? Or is she the one doin’ all the work?”

Excitement bleeds into your countenance as your breathing picks up, chest rising and falling a little faster now.

“I do it all, Javi.” Your voice is a sexy, quiet purr that makes his cock ache. Your fingers drag slowly down the glass, a teasing mimicry of how you’d drag them down his chest. “I see why you like being in control so much. Feels fucking good when she comes all over my tongue.”

Javier swears under his breath, gripping the receiver so tight his knuckles turn white. He can see it so vividly, the way you’d dominate, take what you want, just like he does to you.

“Fuck.” His hips roll deeper into his palm, subtly trying to relieve some of the pressure. “Tell me—what else do you do?”

He needs to hear it, needs to burn it into his brain for the nights when he’s alone, aching for you, stroking his cock to memories that no longer feel like enough.

Your pretty eyes twinkle, eyelashes fluttering as you lean closer, voice dropping to a hushed, breathy confession. “We rub our pussies together, and it feels so good,” you moan sweetly, lost in the memory. “I fuck her with my fingers until she’s crying into the pillow. Ride her face, trying to pretend that it’s you, but she’s so soft. It’s nice sometimes, but fuck, Javi—” you shudder, not breaking eye contact, “I miss getting fucked by you.”

Javier stands so fast, the chair scrapes loudly against the floor, receiver slamming into its cradle as he strides straight for the door that leads to your side of the room, his fingers fumbling with the keys he secured earlier.

The moment he crosses the threshold, you’re on him, fists gripping the front of his shirt, yanking him down as your lips crash together in a desperate, bruising kiss. He barely has time to kick the door shut before he’s walking you backward, guiding you with firm hands until the backs of your thighs hit the table, forcing you to perch on the edge.

Your hands are greedy, roaming over the hard planes of his body, fingers raking through his hair, gripping his shoulders, smoothing down his chest. He groans against your mouth, reveling in the way you touch him like you’re trying to memorize every inch of him all over again. His tongue sweeps along the seam of your lips before plunging inside, licking deep, tasting you.

Then your hand is there—palm pressing against the thick outline of his cock through his jeans, fingers curling around his length, stroking slow.

“Shit,” he grunts against your mouth, hips jerking up into your palm.

His hands are just as restless. One palms your tit, kneading roughly, while the other glides up your outer thigh, his thumb slipping beneath the loose fabric of your jumpsuit to graze bare skin, savoring the weight of you in his grasp. He pulls away only to bite down on your lower lip, tugging it between his teeth before releasing it with a wet snap.

“Mouth tastes so fuckin’ sweet,” he rasps, breath fanning hot against your lips. His fingers slide into your hair, yanking the ponytail loose, letting your tresses spill over your shoulders. He tangles his hand in the strands, grips tight, pulling your head back, exposing the soft column of your throat, locking you in place beneath him. “Bet it feels fuckin’ sweet, too. That bitch make you forget how to suck cock, or do I need to remind you?”

Your whine is immediate, needy, and he can practically see the way your mouth waters, tongue darting out as if you’re already imagining wrapping your lips around him.

“Fuck my throat, Javi.”

He chuckles darkly, bringing you in with the tight hold he has on your hair as he crashes his mouth back onto yours, devouring you, tongue thrusting deep.

Your hands are already working his belt open, yanking it free with practiced ease before moving to his zipper. He growls when your fingers slip inside, brushing through the coarse hair at his navel, teasing the thick base of his cock.

“Shit—”

Then you wrap your fingers around his shaft, and fuck, he swears it’s never felt this good. His dick throbs against your palm, heavy and hot, leaking onto your fingers as you stroke him slowly, teasing him, making him suffer.

He can’t take it. He needs more.

“Ponte de rodillas.”

His hand slips from your hair as he steps back, dropping into the chair you’d just been sitting in, manspreading wide. His jeans hang open around his thighs, exposing the thick, aching length of him. His cock lies heavy against his stomach, veins prominent, the swollen tip glistening with precum, smearing into the dark hair of his happy trail.

You obey instantly, sinking to your knees, sliding between his thighs like you belong there. Which you do.

“Take your top off, baby,” he murmurs, desire evident in his tone. “Show me those pretty tits of yours.”

You bite your lip, trying—and failing—to hide the smile that tugs at the corners of your mouth.

That gorgeous smile. It’s dangerous. It reminds him of all the things he tries to keep buried, the real feelings tangled beneath the lust, the ones he’d rather not acknowledge.

Javier’s serious thoughts vanish the second your top half is exposed. His breath stutters, hunger sharpening in his brown eyes as your tits bounce, nipples peaked and aching. You shift slightly, arching your back just enough to tease him, and his gaze shamelessly devours every inch of bare skin now on display.

Then he sees it. A lovebite, right where the swell of your right breast begins. It pisses him off.

His expression darkens, heat shifting from lust to possessive jealousy.

Before you can react, is hand snakes around the back of your neck once more, fingers tightening in your hair as he yanks you forward, shoving your face into his lap. The hard weight of his cock presses against your cheek, and he grips the base with his other hand, slapping the tip to your lips, smearing precum across them.

“Open.”

It’s not a request.

The second your lips part, he thrusts forward, feeding his cock into your mouth in one brutal stroke, groaning at the slick warmth as you struggle to take him all at once. Your hands clutch at his thighs as you gag, saliva spluttering everywhere. 

A muffled moan of protest vibrates around his length, but he doesn’t care, moving you up and down with his hold on you. His head falls back, the tendons in his neck flexing as you begin to match his thrusts eagerly, sucking him down with hollowed cheeks, tongue moving sinfully. 

Javier gathers your hair into his fist, twisting it into a makeshift ponytail so he can control you with more force and desperation. Your nails dig into the meat of his thighs, dragging down his skin, the sharp sting spurring him on.

He watches, enthralled, as drool and precum smear across your lips, dribbling down your chin, coating your throat. Each wet squelch echoes in the air, obscene and addictive.

“So fuckin’ hard to stay mad at you with a mouth like this,” he grits out, hips moving enthusiastically while fucking your mouth. His free hand slides over the swell of your breast, thumb flicking your gummy nipple, making you moan around him “Holy shit, chiquita—your throat is fuckin’ heaven.”

Javier lets out a throaty groan, head lolling on his shoulders at the feel of you choking around his cock with every harsh stroke. He chases after the filthy gagging sound, holding you down until your nose is flush against the damp curls at his base, soft puffs of breath exhaling from your nose as you struggle to breathe.

“That’s right, mierda putita, guess you didn’t forget how to suck cock after all,” he laughs breathlessly, his words tapering off into a sharp grunt when your tongue drags along the juicy protruding vein that curves around his shaft; throbbing when the tip of your tongue brushes against it.

He jerks your head back suddenly, pulling you off his cock with a wet pop, and stares down at the wrecked state of you.

Your lips are swollen, eyes dazed, spit and precum caked all over. A beautiful and obscene visage.

“Javi,” you rasp, voice raw. Your hands stay busy, both wrapped around his cock, twisting, pumping, stroking in opposite directions, making a mess of him.

Your tits press together as you work him over, your nipples just barely grazing against his thighs. 

“I need your cock inside me. Please.”

He exhales sharply, chest rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths. His eyes flicker to the mark on your chest again, jealousy spiking all over.

“Do you?” Javier mocks, putting just enough pressure on the bruise to make you squirm. “Seems like you’ve been doin’ just fine without it. S’that why you’re lettin’ her mark you up?”

You don’t get the chance to answer. He yanks you forward again, but this time, he shoves you lower—forcing you down until you’ve got a mouthful of balls.

He groans, eyes fluttering closed as your mouth opens, tongue stroking over the sensitive skin of his sac, licking, teasing, making him curse under his breath.

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” he pants, feeling your lips curve into a smirk as you suckle at his scrotum, getting them warm and wet.

Your hands never stop jerking his dick, moving rhythmically. His breath shudders as pleasure builds. He could spill down your throat, paint your face in his spunk—but he’s been fantasizing about this moment since making the plans to come visit last week.

He needs to be inside you. Needs to bury himself in that tight, wet pussy he’s missed so fucking much.

His grip in your hair loosens—a silent signal that you have control again. You pull back slowly, leaving a string of spit bridging your lips to his balls.

“I’m just having fun with her. You know I’m yours, Javier.”

Your tongue flicks out, kitten-licking at his slit, circling his spongy head, then tracing that sensitive vein before pressing your lips fully against him. You make out with his cock like you would his pouty mouth, worshiping every inch.

His heart damn near bursts at your words paired with such a euphoric act. Damn fucking right you’re his.

“Mmm, chiquita… come up here and ride me.”

You fucking giggle, a sultry, wicked little sound.

It’s a stark contrast to the hardened, fiery woman who had been dragged in here earlier, all steel and bite. But now? Now you’re dripping with excitement, turning into the version of yourself he’s missed most—the one who melts at his touch, who aches for him the way he aches for you.

Javier leans back as you slowly rise to your feet, utterly enthralled as he watches you strip bare, peeling away every last scrap of fabric until you stand before him in nothing but a pair of plain white socks.

Fuck.

He’s not sure where to look—those full and soft tits, the soft curves, the dip of your waist, the swell of your hips, the luscious, messy wetness between your thighs, the bush at your mound making him feral. His fingers twitch with the need to touch, to grab, to claim.

Javier fumbles with the buttons of his shirt, popping them open hastily but leaving it on, needing the contrast of his still-dressed body against your completely bare form. His control is slipping, hips shifting as he strokes himself, his cock aching for the heat of your cunt.

“Vamos, súbete, nena,” he murmurs, his hips shifting provocatively, arms reaching for you. He expects you to straddle him immediately, to sink down onto his cock like the greedy little slut he knows you to be. But you don’t. Not yet.

Instead, you turn away from him.

You brace your hands against the edge of the cold metal table, bending forward, presenting yourself like a sinful offering.

His breath catches in his throat, jaw going slack as his half-lidded eyes drink you in.

Your messy cunt glistens, soaked from how wet you got blowing him. The soft curls framing your pussy lips only make her look even more enticing, your swollen folds parting slightly, practically beckoning his tongue to part them like the red fucking sea.

He wants to spread you open with his fingers, to press his mouth against that pretty, weeping slit and drink every single drop from your tight, wet hole.

You smirk over your shoulder, rolling your hips just enough to make his mouth water, and then you spread your legs even wider, blooming yourself open completely for him.

Javier groans, his grip tightening around the base of his cock.

“Stop bein’ a fuckin’ tease and c’mere before I leave you with nothing.”

You laugh, the sound dripping with amusement. “That doesn’t sound ideal for either of us, Jav.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

He pulls his chair forward, closing the distance, and you move with him, reaching down to grab his cock, keeping him steady as you finally—finally—lower yourself.

The first push inside is enough to make both of you moan, your walls stretching, gripping, molding around him as he sinks into your cunt until you’re fully seated on his cock.

“Ay, Javi…”

“That’s right, baby," he groans, pleasure clawing up his spine. “Shit, you feel fucking amazing.”

Your forearms rest against the table, giving you leverage as you begin to move, rolling your hips in a teasing, delicious rhythm. The reverse cowgirl position gives him the best fucking view—your slick folds stretching around his cock, your greedy little hole swallowing him over and over, sucking him in deeper.

His breathing grows ragged as a thick, creamy ring forms at the base of his shaft. The wet sounds of your pussy slapping against him fill the room, weaving with your high, breathy cries.

“Javi! Javi! Ohh—fuck me you’re in so deep, ah shit your cock feels so good inside my pussy baby fuck me!”

You’re a blabbering mess, moans and whimpers spilling from your lips as your pace quickens, your ass bouncing against his lap.

Javier watches, completely wrecked, large hands grabbing at your ass, squeezing, kneading the meaty flesh. His thumbs pull your cheeks apart, exposing the tight, untouched pucker above your stretched pussy, and his cock throbs at the sight.

Without warning, his palm cracks against your ass.

You yelp, jolting from the sudden impact, your rhythm faltering for a second before you push through it, still grinding, still taking him.

“Keep fuckin' taking it.”

Another slap. Then another. The heat of your ass gets hotter with each strike. 

Your moans turn into soft, gasping sobs, the overwhelming pleasure tipping you into something almost delirious. But Javier doesn’t let up nor does he give a shit.

Because he knows—deep down, past the pain, past the shock—you fucking love being treated like this.

His cock slips out of your pussy, smeared in your mixed wetness, swollen and pulsating as it rests between your ass cheeks. Your body doesn’t know any better, still grinding against him, his dick sliding between your sticky lips, making a sloppier mess.

Javier actually fucking whimpers at the sight, teeth biting into his bottom lip while his hands moved from your sore ass up to your love handles, pushing you further up the table as he stands.

He grabs his wet cock, smacking it against each cheek before he sheathes himself inside you again.

“Javiiiii,” you sing for him.

“That’s right, just like that.” He grunts, slipping his hands up until he’s cupping your tits, pulling you flush against his chest as he starts plowing you vivaciously. 

His fingers tug, roll, pinch and strum at your sensitive nipples, the texture of his mustache at your neck as he licks and nips at it, leaving blotchy marks of his own as both of you begin to orgasm.

“Please please please don’t stop Javi, oh my g— I’m about to come,” you whimper, totally fucked out, digging your nails into his wrists as he continues to play with your tits, dragging scratch marks down his brown forearms.

One hand leaves your breasts and glides down to your pert clit, rough fingertips swirling it around, pinching it, and that does you over.

“Come all over my cock, fuck, eres tan pinche hermosa.” 

You turn your head and he quickly slots his mouth over yours, the kiss messy and sloppy as your high pitched moaning fills his mouth, his tongue licking over your teeth and swapping spit.

His thrusts grow frantic, rutting into you wildly, holding your bouncing tits for dear life when he finally comes, clutching you so tight he’s almost afraid he’ll crush you to death. 

You’re both panting frenziedly, all types of bodily fluids coating your skin. His mind feels fogged over, orgasm so intense he swears he’s seeing fucking stars.

“Mmm,” you hum, going pliant in his arms while he holds you, caressing you dotingly, swollen lips leaving open mouthed kisses all over your bare shoulder and up your neck, making you sigh contently.

“Te extraño,” he mutters sincerely against your skin and he feels your body tense briefly.

“Then why am I in here?” Your voice is a mix of frustration and something softer, hurt, he guesses.

Javier hesitates, the lines of worry etching deeper into his face. “It’s complicated,” he admits, his words slow and measured, “but I meant what I said—I’m workin’ to get you out.”

You offer no reply—only a long, weary sigh that betrays the depths of your desire and the burden of your reality.

He pulls out of you then, already missing your warmth, and you both hiss at the feeling.

Then he sees his milky spend bubbling out of you, dolloping at your clit. He’s quick, fingers returning to your used cunt as he collects it and shoves it back in, plugging you with his seed.

“Hold it in, chiquita. When you get back to your cell, I want her to eat my cum out of you.”

i have a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

@almostempty . @auteurdelabre . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiamore . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @persephone-girl . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @almostfoxglove . @thundermartini . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @marisemonteiroo . @picketniffler . @getitoutofmymindwrites . @penascigarette . @bunniboo0015 . @kirsteng42 . @ivuravix . @joelmillerisapunk .

[almostempty]

the meet ugly (javier peña x f!reader) 

WC: 1.6k | Other fics | Rating: it’s ? fluff? No smut

last one for today, sry for spamming anyone, it was an all-or-nothing scenario in my mind 

Summary: your bad day gets worse when a trash bag spills on you. your neighbor javi tries to help but you both get stuck trapped with him and a dumpster. 

Note: this was for the meet-cute, but i had to do something nobody asked for aka make it gross ??? it’s my clown blood idk 

Tags/warnings: au modern javi lives in your apartment complex, description of cold leftovers from your garbage spilling on you, it’s just flirty peña idk it was an exercise for me to write something short and without smut, i’m assuming that dumpsters locked behind fences are relatable enough for all, no y/n, reader is able-bodied, all mistakes are mine just pretend like you didn't see them, i think that's all ty <3

 

You groan as you wrestle with the trash bags, their weight pulling on your arms while you trudge down the cracked concrete stairs. The holly bush at the bottom catches on your shorts again, its spiky branches scraping across your leg. Mocking you. You bite back a curse. The day has been a disaster from start to finish, and now you’re hauling half your apartment’s trash to the dumpster, trying not to lose your temper.

Why does this apartment complex even have holly bushes? It’s like someone got paid just to make everything as inconvenient as possible. Whoever designed this must have never experienced the luxury of hauling garbage bags between two overgrown defensive security bushes. 

You’re still fuming about it, whoever designed this hellscape of an apartment complex, when you reach the gate for the dumpster. One of the trash bags, full of leftovers you’d rather not think about, digs painfully into your fingers. You adjust your grip, unaware the straining plastic is a ticking time bomb. 

You trudge toward the dumpster enclosure, spotting your hot neighbor rounding the corner of his SUV, cigarette between his fingers. Of course, he would be out here to witness your personal walk of garbage shame.

He glances up, and you catch the moment his dark eyes land on you. His gaze sweeps over the bags, then to your face, a smirk tugging at his lips. He doesn’t say anything, but his look is enough to make your face hot. 

Damn him.

"Rough day?" he asks as you approach the dumpster, his deep voice laced with amusement.

"You could say that," you mutter, already feeling defensive. He’s really the last person you want to see while you’re sweaty and cranky. 

With a huff, you push the gate open and step into the dumpster enclosure, tossing the first couple of bags into the bin. The smell is overwhelming, but you just want to be done with it. You lift the last bag, but just as you hoist it up, the thin plastic rips apart, and cold, week-old pad thai leftovers land on your chest, feet, and everywhere but the dumpster. 

You freeze, mortified. Of course.

Before you can even process what just happened, you hear boots scuff against the pavement. Javier’s already hustling over, cigarette still between his fingers, that damn smirk still in place. 

"Need a hand?"

"I’ve got it," you snap, despite the fact that you aren’t moving. Unsure what’s going to make the situation any worse. 

It’s hard to focus on the mess when he’s standing so close. His presence makes your embarrassment worse. Like, you could climb into the dumpster yourself and wait until the garbage truck picks you up on Thursday and takes you away. 

"You sure about that?" He doesn’t move to help—just watches you with a look that’s far too amused for your liking.

"I’m sure," you grumble, tossing the ruined bag into the dumpster. "I don’t need your help." You commit to the mess, peeling cold noodles off of your chest and tossing them into the bin. You frown deeply, fishing out the leftovers that made it down your shirt. The smell and the texture make you nearly gag. 

Javier steps closer, chuckling under his breath. "Right. Because you’ve got everything under control."

You glare at him, wiping your hands on your already-ruined shorts. “I think you’re a little late to be a hero. I’m already wearing the leftovers.”

"Never said I was a hero," he replies smoothly, taking another drag of his cigarette. "Just trying to be neighborly."

As you turn to face him, the gate behind him swings shut with a loud clang. He tries to shove it open, but it doesn’t budge. His expression doesn’t change much, but there’s a flicker of realization in his eyes.

“Oh, that’s perfect,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “We’re stuck?” 

He tugs at the gate one more time before turning back to you, that smirk still in place. "Looks like it."

You stare at him, your frustration mounting. "You aren’t even going to apologize? How are you calm about this?” 

Javier shrugs, leaning back against the gate and taking a long drag of his cigarette before acknowledging your question. He’s like the opposite of an anti-smoking campaign. You want to be the cigarette. 

"Not my fault the gate’s a piece of shit. And I’m not in a hurry."

"You closed it," you counter, flustered and looking for someone to blame.

But even as you glare at him, you can’t help but notice how infuriatingly attractive he looks, the way his leather jacket pulls tight over his shoulders, the way his dark eyes glint with amusement.

Javier catches your gaze and quirks an eyebrow. "You’re staring."

You roll your eyes, heat flooding your face. "I’m not."

"You are." His voice is low, teasing, and the way he looks at you—like he knows exactly what he’s doing—is making it harder to keep your composure.

You step back, trying to regain control of the situation and you catch him laughing to himself. 

“I really don’t see what could be funny about any of this,” you wave your arms, gesturing to your ruined clothes and the small space you’re both trapped in. 

“Could be worse ways to spend the evening,” he drawls, taking a step towards you. 

You pick another piece of rice noodle out from between your tits. “Yeah, like if the dumpster was on fire?” 

You’re too aware of him. Of how his voice gets lower and rougher when he’s this close.

He chuckles, flicking his cigarette to the ground and stepping on it. "I’ve been in worse places. With worse company."

You swallow hard. The way his eyes flicker over your face, how his smirk never fully fades–it’s maddening. He knows what he’s doing to you. It feels like a sick joke. 

"Yeah?" you mutter, your voice sounding breathier than you’d like. "And what makes me such good company?"

Javi’s eyes darken, and he takes another step forward, close enough now that you could smell the leather of his jacket, the faint tobacco on his skin if it weren’t for the foul stench of all of half the apartment complex’s trash in the container behind you.  

"You’re more fun to argue with."

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. “Don’t fuck with me, Javier. I’m already having a day from hell.” 

He gives you a pouty look that makes you want to scream. “Why would I be fucking with you?” he asks quietly, almost sounding hurt. 

You snort, incredulous. “I’m wearing last week's lunch and the only clothes that weren’t in the laundry. Don’t act like you’re flirting with me.”

He steps closer until there’s barely any space left between you. His voice drops, smooth and dangerous. "What if I am?"

For a moment, you forget where you are. 

“What if I think you look good? Even with a garnish?” he asks and pulls a piece of cilantro off of your cheek. 

All you can focus on is how close he is, the way he waits like he’s daring you to make a move. There’s no way he’s serious. He rarely says more than a curt hello, even though you walk to your cars in the parking lot at almost the same time every morning as you head out for work. Sometimes, he’ll wave if you pass him on your walk to the corner store. 

You only knew his name because of the time he caught you trying to drag a dresser you’d scored at an estate sale up the stairs to your apartment on your own. He’d helped you carry it, despite your protesting, all the way into your bedroom.

“I’d say you’re literally stuck in here with me for the foreseeable future, so of course you’d say that.” 

He sighs heavily, muttering under his breath at you, “Tan terca.” And in a move that makes your jaw drop, he turns away from you, stalking towards the fence with a fluid arrogance. Like an oversized cat in a leather jacket, he leaps at the chain link fence like he’s done it a hundred times. He hoists himself up, swinging over the top and dropping onto his feet on the other side. 

He’s grinning at you when he unlatches the gate and swings it open, but you snap storming towards him. “How long were you gonna wait to let us out?” 

He shrugs, “I thought Randy would’ve been out for a smoke before we had to wait long. Don’t exactly enjoy having to climb over a fence.” 

“Right.” You slip out of the gate with a thanks, but when he says your name, you feel like your whole body is drawn towards him.  

He eyes you, leaning in just close enough to make your pulse race again. “And if I were to flirt with you now?” 

“I’d question your judgment,” you point to yourself, “I’m still in desperate need of a shower.” 

His eyes lift, looking just past you, before he grins. 

“Oh my god,” you cut him off before he says a word, “were you about to tell me I could use your shower?” 

Everything about his mockingly sheepish look says you are right. You shake your head at him in disbelief, but you can’t stop the smile that spreads on your face. It takes all of your strength to walk away but head towards your own apartment. 

You make it to the top of the stairs before the sinking feeling hits. You deny it until you check the door for yourself. Of course. After everything that went wrong today, it only makes sense that you would lock yourself out of your own apartment. 

You berate yourself all the way to his door. It swings open after the first knock, and he gives you a look that has your cheeks burning. His eyes gleam, and you just know he’s going to enjoy this before his smoky voice even reaches your ears. 

“Changed your mind?” 

divider @cyberangel-graphics

General tags 💗:

@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange

[creedslove]

dad!Javier Peña who would've never thought one day he would actually become a parent, but the moment you break the news to him, he gets down on his knees in front of you, eyes full of emotional tears he didn't even know he was holding and he would kiss your belly to show that tiny little dot in your womb their already loved and welcome

dad!Javier Peña who will definitely want to tie the knot because he wants his baby Peña to be welcomed in a steady and traditional family, he wants to call you his wife and have you sign things with his last name, he wants to see a wedding ring on your finger as he watches your pregnant belly grow

dad!Javier Peña who would protect you at all costs and take you back to his family ranch in Laredo, where you can both start a calm and easy going life together, where you can give birth without worrying if he's alright or being killed by one of Escobar's sicários and your baby can have plenty of spaces to play

dad!Javier Peña who would worry about you being immersed in all of the town's gossip regarding himself, concerned that somehow it would affect your feelings or your love for him, but the truth couldn't be further than that, as you don't give a single fuck about what people say about him, he's your man, your future husband and father of your baby, and you couldn't love him more, because Javi is perfect the way he is for you and your beautiful baby

dad!Javier Peña who can't hold himself and starts buying several things for the baby without even knowing the gender yet, he tries buying things gender neutral not wanting to compromise the baby's wardrobe but sometimes you do find pink onesies or dinosaur themed baby shoes, showing Javi is pretty much excited for whatever it comes, he just can't wait

dad!Javier Peña who made sure to paint all the walls, after settling down the color, he'd spend the whole afternoon painting, and once it's done he would be so proud his work

dad!Javier Peña who would rest his head against your belly every night, kiss the baby goodnight and talk to it until he feels his own eyes closing with sleep

dad!Javier Peña who feels so lucky and blessed to be able to have such a loving family like the one he has with you 💞

[icanbringyouinhot]

Take something bad and make it into something good - Chapter 1

Paring: retired!Javier Peña x F!reader

Summary: After leaving Colombia, Javier slowly but surely slides into a post-burnout depression that he tries to self-medicate with alcohol and self-imposed exile. However, his friend Steve Murphy and his wife Connie are not having it. Turns out, their endless nagging got him in a very interesting situation that turned out to be exactly what he needed. (Though, he’ll never admit they were right.)

Here’s the song that inspired me: Something Good by Paul Haig (spotify link)

Warnings: I don’t think there are that many, honestly. There’s no smut (boo-hoo, this is my first fanfic ever posted in here, I’m shy ok?..). No physical description of the reader, though I did describe her clothes because we love a well dressed diva. Vague mentions of alcohol abuse. Mentions of blood, wounds, guns, and depression because our boy is traumatized by what went down in Colombia. The reader has one small tattoo on her forearm. Let me know if I forgot anything, this is my first fanfic, idk what the hell I’m doing.

Word count: Roughly 2k.

A/N: Ok so there’s a few things, PLEASE READ: (1) As I said two times already, this is my first fanfic, I’m nervous and insecure about my writing, so please, please, please, give me any advice you have, criticism, words of encouragement, anything that could help me grow. I ain’t no pussy, you can tell me this is shit and I won’t start crying (as far as you know teehee). (2) The story the reader is talking about is my latest hyper fixation, however, i couldn’t find the source. There’s an article that says it belongs to the Chumash Tribe, but there are also other articles and reddit posts that say the otherwise. I have no idea were I know this story from, it just spawned into my smooth brain. For safety measures I chose not to associate it to any Native American tribe and let the reader’s granny take the blow, because I don’t want to offend anyone and because I am from Europe, so idk what the hell I’m talking about and it would be disrespectful to pretend that I do. (3) The art pieces and the artist that are featured in this fanfic are real (they are also present in the little collage that I’ve made, there in the middle, for visual reference)!!! But i don’t have a clue when he did his work and I was too lazy to google it so i have no idea if they existed by the time Javier Peña left Colombia (or if the art pieces ever touched the American land). Once again this fanfic was a last minute thing I didn’t put that much thought into it. (4) Once again i pulled this story from my bum bum and i don’t know if there’s a Modern Art Gallery in Houston, but I don’t care, I take my artistic liberties to invent one on the spot. (5) English is not my first language!!!!!! I tried really hard to make my sentences beautiful and clear, because sometimes in my head everything is an absolute mess. Once again, Idk what the hell I’m talking about. This fanfic is 100% the concept of raw dogging life and see where it gets you.

Okay!!!!! I think that was it. I think we are ready for our first flight together. I have to inform you that I don’t have any right, license or experience into flying the FanFic Aircraft. Too late, you can’t get off now, I shut the doors. Thank you for choosing our company to fly towards your next destination: JAVI LAND!!!! (play national anthem.)

(Also if someone knows how to add those colorful spacers on a post, I also forgot how it’s called, please send me a message and explain to me like I’m your grandma, thank you!!!!!)

Okay here we go. I’m nervous.

Chapter 2 >>

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Javier Peña had a lot of sins he had to try to pay for, but never in his life did he imagine this would be the price.

Four months. That’s how long’s been since he’d left Colombia for good, leaving behind all the bullshit he had to endure, the mistakes he made, the deaths he’d witnessed.

In all fairness, he thought that going back to the states would motivate him to rebuild his life and start anew. That was his honest to God intention. However, once back in the good ol’ Merica, he realized it no longer felt like home, not in his dad’s old house, not in his new apartment, in a different city, nowhere. He became almost a recluse, filled with rage, resentment and frustrations, never leaving his house much, except for runs to the closest liquor store or the bar down the street.

The first few weeks, Murphy gave him space to sort out his thoughts, drink himself into oblivion, chain-smoke through the night and avoid human interaction like the goddamn plague, only checking on every now and then but never pushing.

Then, they started showing up.

First it was just Murphy, with beer and bad jokes, watching football games, doing anything but talk about Colombia or feelings. Then, Connie started showing up too, with thinly vailed concern and always bringing something for him to eat, all while trying to pull words out of him with pliers. They even had their daughter have a try at him, convinced that no one could resist the innocence of a small, bright-eyed child, especially one that loved her ‘uncle Javi’ like he hung the moon just for her. Yes, Javier loved his niece and would do anything for her, but that was the one thing that he couldn’t do, mostly because he didn’t know how.

No matter how many times he tried to turn them down, they were relentless. They’d pestered, prodded, and outright bullied him into getting out of the house ­– something about fresh air, new experiences, maybe even fun, as if he had any patience for that word anymore. They started up with the occasional dinner invitation, then it was offers to take him out for drinks – somewhere nice instead of the dingy, dimly lit bar where Javi spent his weekends. He never wanted to go anywhere, but Murphy and Connie always insisted until he gave in just to shut them the hell up. Well, more Connie than Murphy, really – she was the one planning every intervention, though she’d been sweet enough not to say that word out loud.

And now… this.

This one – Oh, this one took the cake.

A fucking art gallery.

Connie got her grabby hands on some invitations from an old patient lady that actually owned the fancy Modern Art Gallery in Houston, and Murphy, as the good husband that he was, just went along with it.

But Javier Peña didn’t belong here. That much was obvious from the moment he stepped through the doors of the establishment, wearing a scowl and the same old leather jacked that had seen more blood and dust than it had high society.

The walls were lined with massive canvases – some monochrome, others smeared in chaotic swirls of color – but what stood out the most were the ones that had been slashed and punctured, riddled with holes like someone had taken a knife to them in a drunken rage.

Murphy, the bastard, was actually trying to appreciate it. He stood next to Connie, nodding along as she pointed to different pieces. Javi had no doubt Steve didn’t understand a damn thing either, but unlike Javier, he was at least pretending.

He took a long sip of his whiskey – at least the open bar made this bearable.

At one point during the night, Connie leaned in and, in a hushed, reverent tone, explained that the artist, Lucio Fontana, had created these pieces with great precision to “explore spatial concepts beyond the canvases”, emphasizing “the interplay of light, shadow and space.” He just rolled his eyes and moved further away from her in a corner, plotting his escape.

What a load of bullshit.

All he could see were stab wounds. Bullet holes. Scars carved into the fabric of the country he had spent too many years fighting in. If he looked long enough, he swore he could see blood seeping through, hear the gunshots echoing in his skull.

And maybe that said more about him than the art itself.

He exhaled, running a hand over his face. He needed another drink.

He turned to leave – and walked straight into someone.

“Shit, sorry.” He muttered taking a step back, but the woman in front of him didn’t seem bothered.

You were standing close to one of the mutilated canvases, your back straight, hands folded in front of you as you studied it. You wore a calf-length silk skirt that shimmered under the lights and a lacy top that showed just enough skin to be distracting. But what struck him the most was the way you were looking at the canvas in front of you – not with the pretentious admiration of the other guests but with quiet, genuine thoughtfulness.

You waved off his apology with a small smile before turning your gaze back to the painting – a deep navy-blue canvas punctured with what looked like a thousand tiny holes.

Javier should’ve walked away, but instead he looked at you looking at the painting, and the curiosity got the better of him.

“You actually like this shit?”

You smiled, slow and knowing, like you were expecting that reaction. “Maybe.”

Javier huffed incredulous, crossing his arms. “Really?”

You gestured to the navy punctured canvas, “It reminds me of an old story my grandmother used to tell me when I was little.”

Javier pulled his eyebrows together, puzzled. The only thing it reminded him of was the dark colored government van that got ambushed and was completely obliterated along with the agents inside. But he couldn’t say that, and before he could open up his mouth to say anything else, you already started telling your story.

“Before the humans appeared on the planet, the rocks, animals and plants lived in harmony. They were the people of the world. They lived in harmony and peace, appreciating and taking care of the nature and of one another. They woke up every morning greeting the Sun, and went to sleep waving goodbye to the Moon, thanking her for looking over them.”

Javi found himself listening despite himself, watching you as you talked, tilting you head in his direction, gaze lost, but a small smile creeping on your lips as you continued to narrate the story.

“As time passed, they started to forget. They didn’t greet the Sun anymore or show any appreciation, and the Moon was completely forgotten. They became jealous of each other, thinking others possessed more than them, greed taking over their hearts. They started to take more than they needed, either to consume or to sell away. They didn’t help each other, cooperation didn’t exist anymore. They separated more and more, arguing, hating, fighting, hurting each other.”

His eyes darted between you and the painting, his mind running a thousand miles per hour, but knew better than to try to interrupt you.

“The Creator had been watching and said ‘Enough’, throwing a blanket over the whole world. Now the world was in darkness, people frightened. Each of them tried individually to take off the blanket, but no one was able to reach that far. Desperate, they formed a council, to discuss what they should do. After endless meetings and failed attempts, a hummingbird came with a plan that demanded everyone to cooperate. The hummingbird got on top of the crow, the crow got on top of the owl, and the owl on the eagle. The idea was simple, the eagle was supposed to fly as high as he could, then when his energy ran out, the owl took over, then the crow, until finally the hummingbird got close enough to puncture the blanket with its beak. Light seeped through, and everyone got their hope back. They started working together until they punctured enough holes in the blanket for them to have light and warmth again. The animals that couldn’t fly helped from the ground, preparing water, food and shelter for everyone. The Creator was so pleased to see that the people were living again in harmony that he lifted off the blanket, and the people never took what they had for granted anymore.” You seemed to finish your story the moment your eyes were focused on again, this time shifting your gaze towards Javier. His face was an amalgamation of emotions – confusion, admiration, concentration. “Anyway, it’s said that after they lived again in harmony and peace for many, many years, the people started to forget again.” You added with a shrug, this time with a knowing look into your eyes.

Javier looked at the canvas again. He still saw violence – still saw the wounds, the tearing, the things he couldn’t erase from his mind. But for the first time, he also saw what you did. Something else. Hopeful.

“You got all that from a couple stab marks on a painting?

You turned to him fully, amusement flickering in your eyes. “Art is what you make of it.”

Javier tilted his head, watching you. “So, what do you make of that one?” he said pointing to a different canvas – one with a long, deep cut right in the middle of it, like a wound.

You studied it for a moment, pursing your lips, then said, “Loneliness.”

“Loneliness?”

“Yes, the loneliness we all feel sometimes, almost like a wound right in the middle.” You said tracing absentmindedly a finger over your chest. “Separation. The way we carve ourselves apart from others, whether by choice or by force.”

Javier’s smirk faded slightly. He wasn’t used to conversations like this. Usually, when he talked to women, it was all surface-level-flirting, small talk, nothing deeper than what was necessary. But this? This was different.

If your words affected him, he didn’t let it show, but truth be told, a bitch slap would’ve stung him less than this.

He scoffed giving a skeptical look, “Alright smartass, and that one?” he pointed to another, where multiple slashes ran parallel, like scars.

After another pause for consideration, you said, “Community. We crave connection, we need it. No one survives alone. Even if we are wounded, we heal better when we are surrounded by others. Pain shared is pain halved.”

He almost wanted to ask if you knew Steve and Connie and if they put you up to this, but something in your expression made him reconsider, because when you spoke, when you came up with these awful, soul barring interpretations, you seemed lost in thoughts for a second.

“Where do you come up with this stuff?”

You grinned, “Pulled it out of my ass, mostly.”

He barked out a laugh, “Figures.”

You leaned in slightly, voice conspiratorial, “Truth is, I think this whole thing is bullshit.”

Now that was something he could get behind. “Then how the hell does a smart woman like you end up stuck at an art gallery she doesn’t even like?”

“My grandmother owns the gallery.”

Javier blinked. “Shit.”

You smiled slyly, “Yeah, so don’t tell her I said that.”

“No promises.” He said, “I’m Javier, by the way.” he added, and you shook his hand telling him your own name.

After a beat, you cleared the air, “The only one I’ve actually meant was the first one. The story kind of stuck with me.” You said as you rotated your forearm, letting him see the tiny hummingbird tattoo you had, so small, fragile and beautiful. He wanted to kiss it, honestly,

“So, you really believe in that?” he asked with his characteristic smile plastered on his face.

You glanced at him. ‘Believe in what? That the sky is a blanket and the stars are holes?” you asked amused.

Javier shrugged, “I mean, the whole idea. That there’s a way out, that people could actually find a way to fix their world at some point.” He explained his question, because it sure like hell never felt like that when he tried to lift the proverbial blanket that the cartels threw over Colombia.

You smiled, but there was something wistful in it. “I think stories like that exist because people need them to. To make sense of things, to find hope. The world’s a little less lonely when you see that there are others with the same way of thinking. Maybe if more people knew the story and they’d believe in it, things would change too.”

Javi studied you. You weren’t like the rest of the people here – weren’t fawning over the art just to seem cultured, weren’t talking in circles to sound impressive. You were just… real.

And that was a dangerous thing for him to be around.

You two stood there, quiet for a moment, the hum of conversation and clinking glasses filling the space between you. It should have been awkward, but it wasn’t.

Javi wasn’t sure when was the last time he’d met someone who actually entertained him, let alone someone who made him forget the shitstorm in his head. You had that way of carrying yourself – calm, amused, like the world was something to be studied but never taken too seriously.

“So, what about you?” you said after a moment, “If you hate this so much, why are you here?”

Javier sighed, glancing across the room where Steve was balancing a glass of wine while his wife animatedly discussed another piece. “Some friends dragged me.” He muttered.

You nodded in consideration, then looked around for your own dear grandmother. She was way over her head discussing with a circle of quests just like she did the whole night. Aside from knowing that you came, she didn’t get the chance to check in on you or chat at any point during the event, and you took a wild guess that it wouldn’t be happening anytime soon either.

You grinned, tilting your head slightly. “Tell you what – I’ll make you a deal.”

Javier arched a brow. “Yeah?”

You leaned in, lowering your voice. “There’s a bar two blocks from here. No abstract art, no bullshit. Just whiskey and decent company. Maybe some food too. You in?”

Javier hadn’t expected the night to be anything other than a painful endurance test, something he did mostly for his friends than for himself. He sure hadn’t expected to meet someone like you. And for the first time in a long time, he thought – why the hell not?

His lips curved into a genuine smile – he couldn’t remember when was the last time he smiled as much as he did ever since he started talking to you.

“Hell yeah, lead the way.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

[flightlessangelwings]

FawKtober2024 Part 8- Javier Peña

Javier Peña x fem!reader

Kinks- consensual non-consent (cnc), rough sex, aftercare

Word count- 1.6k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), rough sex, handcuffs, gags, consent is explicitly given and safewords are established, pet names (baby, sweetheart), no physical description of reader other than body parts, no use of y/n

Notes- Please be aware of the warnings on this one as it's rougher and not going to be for everyone! But I do love me some cnc and it's been a while since I wrote one so this was fun to write! Enjoy!

~

It was late, and Javier should have been back hours ago. You sat on the couch, the tv just background noise as you wrapped yourself up in a blanket waiting for him to get back. Stifling a yawn, you fidgeted in your spot as your nerves rose with every passing minute. Part of you was a little scared, but that was a part of the thrill of it all. And most of you was excited anyway. From the moment he called in the afternoon and said the secret code word, nothing else was on your mind.

You were so wrapped up in your own mind that you didn’t hear the door open and shut or the footsteps that got closer and closer to you. It wasn’t until a large hand covered your mouth that you knew you were no longer alone.

The hand stifled a scream as you struggled in its strong grip. You flailed your arms around as you thrashed in an attempt to break free, but the hands that held you were too strong. Plus, you were caught off guard, so any type of advantage you could have had was gone.

It wasn’t until you heard your name in a familiar voice that you froze.

“It’s me, baby,” Javier whispered in your ear. One hand kept you still on the couch while the other stayed over your mouth. He paused for a moment, giving you the chance to tap three times to end this if you wanted to. But, when you didn’t, he went back into character. 

“Who would leave such a pretty thing home alone so late?” Javier’s tone dropped as he pushed you onto the couch on your stomach. 

You yelped as you suddenly found yourself thrown down. But, before you could react, you felt a weight on top of you, pinning you down. You tried to wiggle your way out from underneath Javier, not wanting to make this too easy for him, but he was able to keep you in place.

“Fuck you,” you spat as you thrashed under his grip.

“I plan to,” Javier smirked from behind you as he pulled his handcuffs.

He was fast and nimble with his hands, and Javier had your arms tied behind your back before you could resist much. You whipped your shoulders around in an attempt to break free, but Javier let his entire body weight sit on your hips as he pushed you back down flat. 

“You look so pretty like this,” he murmured as he ran his hands under your shirt and his calloused fingers grazed the skin of your back.

“Don’t touch me,” you jerked your body as much as you could, trying to fight the growing arousal between your legs.

“Oh,” Javier mocked you, “Don’t be like that, baby,” he let out a low growl as he suddenly yanked at your pants, tugging them off as you screamed and held your body down to keep him from undressing you.

“Stop it! No!” you yelled as you dug your hips into the couch.

“Shut your mouth,” Javier snapped, “Do you want the neighbors to hear?” It gave him an idea. Javier reached into his pocket and dug out a bandana and quickly tied it around your mouth. “It’s a shame to waste those pretty screams,” he rumbled, “But I don’t want to be interrupted.”

You whimpered as you rattled muffled insults through your gag. It only made Javier chuckle lowly. He took advantage of your distracted mind and tugged your pants and under off in one swoop, leaving you exposed. Your muffled cries only fueled him on more, and he felt his jeans tighten as he cock hardened.

“Shit, baby,” he whispered in awe as he soaked in the sight of you like this. You were cuffed, helpless, and at his mercy… and you had never looked more beautiful. Part of him wanted to stop this little game and kiss and make love to you tenderly and sweetly. But he knew how much you wanted this, and although he was reluctant at first, Javier now saw the appeal. 

Another whimper from you broke Javier out of his trance, and he was reminded of the strain between his legs. He groaned as he quickly unzipped his jeans to free his aching cock as you squirmed under him.

“Gotta have you, sweetheart,” he growled through gritted teeth.

You tried to protest, tried to mumble a “no,” but all you could do was moan. Javier grabbed your scalp and buried your face in the couch cushion with one hand while his other reached between your legs and spread you open, exposing you to him. He growled in anticipation as you whined underneath him, turning him on even more.

In the blink of an eye, Javier suddenly thrust into you without warning. Your scream was muffled by the cushion and your gag, but his groan echoed in the room as he felt your warm tightness around him.

“Fuck you feel so fucking good,” Javier rumbled. 

Tears filled your eyes at the sudden intrusion, and you felt an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure that only Javier could bring you. You screamed into the couch as he thrust into you in slow but harsh movements. You tried to claw at him from where he bound your hands, but it was no use; all you could do was barely scratch at his skin as he had his way with you.

“Fuck,” Javier groaned as he sped up his pace, fucking you harder than he ever had before.

Your cries of pain quickly turned to pleasure as you could no longer pretend you didn’t want what Javi gave you. Muffled moans filled the gag as your eyes rolled back with every harsh thrust of his hips. He almost actually hurt you, and you loved it. You craved more. You wanted more, harder, faster.

“Javi…” you managed to mumble through the bandanna. 

“That’s it, baby,” Javi encouraged you as he slapped your ass once, making you yelp. “That’s it,” he grunted as he thrust himself as deep inside you as he possibly could.

Tears fell from your eyes as you moaned into your gag as his thick cock filled you harshly over and over again. Your world felt like it was crumbling around you, like an earthquake and a hurricane at the same time. You felt like your body was on fire and about to be ripped apart simultaneously. It was pain and it was pleasure and it was everything and more. And it was perfect.

And that was when Javi growled in your ear, “Gonna cum, baby,” his low rumble went right to your core and you squeezed your inner muscles around his cock, “You gonna let me cum in you like a good fucking girl?”

You choked on your own spit as he yanked on the back of your neck, “Uh-huh,” you mumbled through the gag.

“That’s it,” he groaned, “You gotta cum too, baby. You gotta cum on my cock even if you don’t want to.”

A mix of a whine and the most obscene moan escaped your lips as your mind spun. He adjusted his angle so that his cock struck your sweet spot with precision, and it made you cry out through your gag. Your tears soaked the bandanna as your moans got louder as your climax started to build, as much as you tried to fight it.

“I feel you fighting it, baby,” Javier growled, “It only makes me wanna make you cum more,” he sped up his thrusts, pounding into you with wanton lust that completely took over his mind.

Javier’s hips slapped against yours as heat rose in the room. It didn’t take much longer for him to get what he wanted as he felt your body tense underneath him. You screamed into the bandanna as you trembled under his body and your climax washed over your body, filling you with pleasure. Javier grunted as he finally let himself go and his hips stuttered as he came just behind you, spilling himself into you as a string of curses spilled from his lips.

Exhausted, Javier fell forward and collapsed down onto you with a groan. Together the two of you laid on the couch in a sweaty mess as you both caught your breaths. Javi kissed your skin where he could reach as he carefully tugged at the bandanna. You gasped as your mouth was freed finally and you took a deep breath through your lips.

“You ok, baby?” Javi asked in a softer tone. 

“Perfect,” you replied in a hoarse voice and a smile on your face. Turning your head to meet his gaze, you added, “Thanks for indulging me, Javi.”

Javi smiled down at your before he kissed you tenderly on the lips, “I’ll admit I enjoyed it too,” he smirked against you, “Thanks for talking me into this.”

That made you laugh as you kissed him again, chasing his lips every time he tried to pull away.

“Now let me take care of you, baby,” Javi murmured, “I got you.”

“I know you do,” you whispered as you felt him push himself up, whimpering as he pulled out of you, “I trust you, Javi.”

Javi didn’t say anything as he uncuffed you and rolled you onto your side, gathering you in his arms. He wrapped himself around you and held you close as he kissed your temple. You nuzzled into his chest as you let out a sigh, placing feather light kisses on his chest as you closed your eyes contently. 

“You know I’d never hurt you for real, right?” Javi broke the silence as he caressed you, “I’d never let anything happen to you.”

“I know, Javi,” you said, “That’s why I trust you and no one else to do this with me. We’re alright.”

“We’re alright,” he repeated as he rested his head against yours, “We’re alright, baby.

[tieronecrush]

office party

javier peña x f!reader

summary: your friend with benefits, javier, is your plus one for your dreaded office holiday party. when a coworker gets a bit too comfortable, javier steps in and shows you exactly how he feels about you.

rating: M

wc: 2.3k

warnings: alcohol use, mentions of sex, inappropriate advances from coworker, fwb, probably missing some so lmk what!!

a/n: my contribution to @pedrostories secret santa event!! was a busy holiday season so i wish i could have done more but excited to participate nonetheless. i hope you enjoy @flightlessangelwings and happy holidays to you!!! and tysm my love @northernbluess for proofing

dividers by @saradika

“Christ, where is he? Gettin’ freezing out here…” you mumble to yourself, gritted through your teeth as you stand shivering in your party attire — a tasteful black velvet cocktail dress, hem stopping a couple of inches above your knees and long sleeves with a sweetheart neckline. Fidgeting with your charm necklace, you nervously scan the entrance stairs to the history museum for the familiar face.

It’s the night before your office lets out for the holidays, and it’s also the night they host their annual holiday party. Even though it was quite the affair and your large law firm spares no expense for the event, you never really looked forward to being confronted with colleagues in ways you didn’t need to see them, and there was usually one man who would hit on you. Open bar, catered food, always in a gorgeous venue, it was a recipe for a great time or a horrible time, depending on your found company for the night. This year was the history museum, one of your favorite spots in the city. The daydreams you’ve had about taking him here pop into your mind like a flash in the pan — fleeting, and simply something to stay as a daydream.

A tinge of reluctance tugs in your gut. Was it weird to ask him here? Is he going to stand you up?

But then, there was Javier. Looking sharp as ever in a suit, one you’ve seen him in once after he stopped by yours after a late night working. Black, with a crisp white shirt and a red tie to fit into the holiday spirit. A smirk plays on his lips when he spots you, taking the stone steps two at a time as he approaches. It had taken a bit of convincing — virtually bribing — to get him to agree to be your plus one for the night, and when he did confirm that he would come along with you, the prospect of the party actually being something more bearable skyrocketed instead of the excruciating evening you usually expect.

“Hey there, querida. Why’re you waiting out in the cold for me? Debe estar congelándose. (You must be freezing.)” Javier greets you with concern knit into his brow, his big brown eyes softened and sparkling in the low streetlight. His large palms find the sides of your arms, rubbing gently to warm you up.

“Didn’t want to get pulled into the abyss alone in there,” you jest, “I don’t know if you’d have been able to find me with all the hiding I have to do from weird coworkers.”

You laugh and Javier chuckles lightheartedly, shaking his head as he relaxes in front of you. Nodding his head toward the door, he follows behind you as you lead with a hand at your lower back.

“Is there anyone I should watch out for specifically tonight? Am I gonna have to act as a bodyguard? Should I tell any of the creeps I have a gun?” Javier’s lips graze your ear as he speaks, keeping close to you when you enter and the sounds of the party erupt. A jolt runs down your spine from the intimate contact. It’s your turn to shake your head, breathing out a laugh as you limply hit your hand against his chest.

Your excitement around seeing Javier and spending more time with him was getting much more frequent and much more intense. Bordering the point where you don’t know if you can keep up the arrangement with the feelings you’re developing for him.

Friends of a few years, there’s always been a flirty undertone between you and Javier. It built up to the point that when everyone had cleared out from a dinner party at your place, Javier stayed behind to help clean up — always a gentleman — and the two of you, admittedly a bit tipsy from the wine that was flowing all night, told each other one a whim that you were attracted to each other. Both free from any ties of old relationships, you fell into an agreement: sex, great sex at that, with no strings attached. You two would remain friends and get exactly what you wanted, which was each other, without the messiness of a relationship. Something you were both jaded from.

These days, however, the lines were starting to blur on your end. Everything he did seemed to tip you further into the deep end before you finally came to terms and accepted that you had completely cannonballed into it.

Javier is a good guy. Didn’t have that reputation around town when you first met, but getting to know him in the wee hours of the morning after a few rounds, you fell fast and hard. It wasn’t until recently that you came to terms with it.

“Nobody needs the interrogation tactics or intimidation tonight, Peña.”

“Okay, okay…Tengo que asegurarme de que te traten bien. (I have to make sure you’re treated right.) One of their best employees, shouldn’t have to put up with the shit, querida.”

The air in the grand entrance of the city’s museum crackles with holiday cheer as festive decorations adorn every corner. Garland hangs around the banisters of the grand staircase that leads further into the museum, but most of the activity is in the large, marble-lined room you both stand in. Nearly every employee seems to be in attendance, people milling about in cliques and others indulging in drinking or dancing.

As both of you saunter toward the bar, the atmosphere softens with each step, the clinking of glasses and the chatter of coworkers weaving together into a cacophony of merriment. Javier grabs you two drinks, a glass of champagne for you and whiskey neat for him, toasting to the night ahead. The clinking of glasses resonates with your unspoken agreement: tonight, like every other night, would end the same way. No strings.

Amidst the swirl of laughter and twinkling lights, and the loosening power of liquor, the boundary between friendship and something deeper becomes increasingly blurred. Flirty comments dance back and forth, charged with an unspoken tension that lingers beneath the surface.

“You look beautiful tonight, cariño. How come I haven’t seen this dress before?” Javier asks, the two of you standing at a cocktail table, alone and enjoying it.

“Guess you’d have to be my plus one more often, Javi. Then you could see all the dresses in my closet,” you counter, smirking playfully and biting back the desire to mention something akin to a real date for both of you.

“Guess so, querida. Might have to make this a regular thing.” Javier sends you a wink before clinking your glasses together in another smaller toast, a smirk painting his face as he lifts the tumbler to his mouth for a sip.

With every exchanged glance and teasing remark, it’s evident that you’re tiptoeing on the edge of uncharted territory, yearning to express feelings that had long been confined. It’s unclear if Javier feels the same, but soft touches and gentle words ply you open even further, teetering with falling completely.

Then, amidst the dance of emotions and flirtations, a coworker appears in the corner of your eye, sauntering toward the table and bursting the privacy bubble that you happily curated with Javier. His name’s Jake, a man around your age who is friendly with you in the office, sociable guy with one of those “winning” personalities the partners would compliment endlessly. A guy’s guy. But one that had no problem approaching the women in the office. With a warm smile, he extends a hand towards the man at your side, introducing himself with an easy charm that seemed almost too perfect — of course, referring to Javier already as his ‘buddy’. The hint of jealousy that flickers across Javier's face doesn’t escape your notice, and you can’t help but feel a tingle of endearment for his slightly soured mood from being interrupted.

As the night progresses, Jake's alcohol-infused attempt at camaraderie with you grows increasingly unwelcome. He’d been watching you like a hawk so far, cutting in whenever Javier left to grab more drinks or when another coworker pulled his attention away to try to pick his brain about all that’s happening in the government right now. Inching closer to you, Jake leans against the hightop table, making conversation with slurred words and uninhibited want behind his eyes.

When you shift slightly away, attempting to remain civil enough at a work event, you feel yourself bump into Javier. 

At that moment, Javier turns to see if you tapped him to grab his attention, but is met with the clear look of discomfort on your face. Jake leaning in closer, eyes wandering as you responded in the conversation, clearly attempting to check you out. Frustration toward the man in front of you lit in his chest, holding himself back from confronting him and instead fully embracing his purpose for the night. If he was invited as your date, he could act like it, right?

His arm wraps around you possessively, his lips pressing kisses on your temple, and whispered words meant to keep you close. Surprised at first, but happy to feel closer to him and to relish in the protective boyfriend persona, even if it is only to keep a creep away from you.

Jake, seemingly oblivious to the change in dynamics, spoke up louder, laying a hand on your arm and squeezing, “So you ever wanna cut out of work early and get a drink? Maybe end up back at my place? You can wear that dress.”

The proposition sends a ripple of discomfort through the air. Other coworkers turn away, ignoring the advance that left you shocked and speechless. But, Javier, now fully immersed in his role, takes a stern tone, cutting in and gently maneuvering you behind him.

“Hey, cabrón, why don’t you apologize for speaking to her like that?” Javier instructs, nodding to you while your hands wrap around his arm closest to you. “Or am I going to have to find one of your supervisors and tell them all this shit myself? Don’t speak to her again, or even look at her. And I will know if you do — I’ve got eyes everywhere, buddy.”

The look on Jake’s face makes you laugh softly from behind Javier, shaking your head as he backs away and leaves with his tail between his legs. Javier turns to you, wrapping you up in one of his arms and brushing his fingers softly against your cheek.

Concern softens his eyes, the same look that he greeted you with when he found you waiting in the cold, “You alright, cariño? Fucking asshole. You shouldn’t have to deal with that, should report him or something.”

“I’m alright, Javi. Thank you…You didn’t have to—”

Javier shakes his head, smiling with one side of his mouth and kissing your forehead, “‘Course I did. Can’t let anyone talk to you like that.”

You lean into his chest and smile, lightening the mood with a playful comment, “Seemed pretty comfortable being threatening. Did it bring you back to the good ol’ days being a sheriff?”

Ever the master of evasion, Javier shrugs it off with a casual demeanor, attempting to maintain the façade of indifference with a nod, “Sure did. But they weren’t the good ol’ days.”

Hearing the smile in his voice causes a wave of affection for him that washes over you, coming to the realization that it’s either now or never. A surge of courage propels you to take the leap, confessing the fact that you see more with Javier, that you want more with him.

“I know we said no strings, and it was like that at first, but the more I’ve gotten to know you, the more I’ve found that I love you. And you can absolutely walk away and nothing will be held against you, but I can’t keep up with this if I can’t tell you how I feel.”

The atmosphere between you shifts, and for a moment, the world seems to stop entirely.

Javier's eyes softened, and with a sincerity that catches you off guard, he shares a confession too, “Querida, I fell in love with you in the first moment I met you. The second I kissed you for the first time was when I realized it. I thought maybe I could keep it all in, ‘cause I didn’t want to lose you as a friend and just as a part of my life, but I love you, cariño. Have since I heard that laugh of yours and saw that gorgeous smile. And I haven’t felt the same way I feel about you for anyone else before.”

In that moment of vulnerability, the boundaries that confined your actions shatter, opening up a door, wide and clear, for you to walk through and never close.

Away from the crowded party, you find yourselves standing in a doorway adorned with sprigs of mistletoe, a symbol of serendipity. Under the soft glow of the festive lights, Javier takes a step closer, and his lips meet yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. His hand caresses your cheek, one arm wrapping around your waist while yours rest around his neck, pulling him in for a deeper kiss.

As you break apart, Javier looks into your eyes, a sincerity shining through that mirrored the twinkle of holiday lights.

"I love you," he confesses, the words hanging in the air like the melody of a cherished carol.

“I love you, too,” you return, a glowing smile and feeling giddy for the rest of the holiday season with Javier.

taglist: @northernbluess @atinylittlepain @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsmando @ilovepedro @deathwife @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @pertinentpostmortem @livingdeadmaria @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @its-nebuleuse @marini03 @piercethevic03 @joeandpedrosimp @kiwisbell @planet-marz1 @txtattoostark @jrosie25 @thereaperisabitch @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @k-k0129 @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic

[thetriumphantpanda]

i think he did it | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Ten

Chapter Summary | you and Javi face the fallout of your investigation together.

Chapter Warnings | mentions of head injuries and injuries caused by others (not Javi), mentions of the drug trade, drugs and drug related violence and death, Javi being soft, allusions to smut but nothing explicit, more of a filler chapter but I hope you still love it.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 2.2K

Authors Note | I am so very sad that we're nearing the end of the story with these two - we only have two chapters left to go! They have been a joy to me and I have loved sharing their story with you. Thank you as always for being so patient in waiting for updates. If you are enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi. 

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

There’s a dull ache settled behind your eyes when you wake up the next morning. A throb that pulses perfectly in time with the heartbeat settled beneath your ribs. When your eyes flutter open, there’s streaking sunlight throughout the room that’s still too bright for you to be able to manage, so you clamp your eyelids shut once more, groaning as you roll over onto your back, right into the solid weight of someone sitting in bed.

It’s the only thing that could get you to open your eyes, turning over and looking up at Javier, with his neck craned down, looking at an open file in his lap. He flicks his eyes towards you, and you’re expecting the lecture, the tone of I-told-you-so, but instead, his attention just turns back to the file he’s reading.

“What’s that?” You croak out, finding your mouth dry.

“A file,” He answers plainly, as if he thinks you must be blind, “Thought if you’re going to ride off into the sun on your own to do the heroics, you should probably have some backup.”

He shifts his knees down and twists the file so you can see it. You scoot up, trying to make sense of the words in front of you, when you feel his hand, warm and supportive on the back of your head, his lips pressed to the top as you read.

The file looks to pretty light, there’s only a few sheets of paper inside it, but from what you can get a sense of, it must be all the police have on the drugs raid.

“I’m sorry,” You mumble, moving your face into the warmth of his arm, “I didn’t think he would hurt me.”

There’s a pause and you can feel his body stiffen next to you, but then there’s movement and the arm you’ve currently got your face pressed into moves and envelops your shoulders, pressing you into his side.

“It’s okay,” He says softly, “I’m sorry too.”

You wrap your arm across his middle, he’s not bothered to put a shirt on and you finally realise how much you’ve missed the feeling of his skin on your own.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask timidly, looking out into the expanse of his room as opposed to looking up at him.

You feel him suck in some air and let it out in a sigh, “No, hermosa, you didn’t, I-” He pauses for a moment, “I shouldn’t have looked through your things firstly, that was wrong of me, and I’m sorry,” You grip him a little tighter then, “Ever since I came back, everyone treats me like I did some big, heroic thing, when the truth is I think I probably made everything worse, sure there are some bad men in jail, but those bad man have other bad men to do their bidding, and I see it, every single fucking day, when those boats go up and down the river, all of the fucked up shit I did hasn’t made one bit of difference.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he’s quicker at continuing, and there’s something that tells you to keep quiet.

“All those newspaper clippings you had? None of them tell the truth, it’s all just American propaganda to make us think we’re on the right side of history, I’m not the man they make me out to be, I’m not the all-American hero from the stories, I did bad things down there, I killed people, I got people killed by making shitty choices, and I couldn’t bare the thought that you believed them, that you thought I was some saint.”

“Javi,” You murmur softly, finally looking up at him despite the dull ache behind your eyes, “I know you’re not a saint, you’re fucking your friend’s daughter.”

There’s a shift in his chest and a sound that you think is a chuckle.

“Is that all we’re doing here?” He asks softly, “Are we just fucking?”

It’s a question you hadn’t really thought about before, because it had been, right? The two of you enjoying yourselves, meeting the other’s needs. But he came when you called, despite everything, and that’s got to mean something right?

You shift a little, draping yourself across his chest so you can really look at him now.

“Are we?”

He offers you a small smile and you realise now how much you’ve missed being on the receiving end of it, how it makes your heart clench.

“I don’t know baby,” He sighs, reaching out to cup your cheek in his palm, stroking the skin with his thumb, “All I know is that when I found you last night, and you were bleeding and hurt, I wanted to hurt someone right back, and that I want to keep you safe, and that you are the one thing that makes me truly happy right now,” He shrugs a little, “So I don’t know, are we just fucking?”

You offer him your own smile now, leaning up to press a soft kiss against his mouth, finally feeling at home and at peace, safe and warm with the one person you never thought would feel the same.

“I guess not,” You mumble against his mouth, “All I know is I want you to be mine, and I know it’s complicated and messy, but I don’t care, you’re all I want.”

“I’m not going anywhere baby, I promise,” and moves to kiss you again, “Now lie back down before you make your headache worse.”

You relent, knowing that the pinching behind your eyes is only going to get worse if you don’t do as you’re told.

“So, agente,” He teases, hearing him open the file on his lap again, “Tell me what we need to know.”

It’s almost noon by the time he arrives at the station. He spent the morning listening to you take him through what you know and what your hunches are, and he has to admit, you’d give a fair amount of people at the DEA a run for their money.

He’s left you sleeping in his bed, a fact he thinks he might just be able to get used to, and has taken the police file your dad had given him, full of his own notes and yours, to the station to try and finish this. He knows you want to do it, you’ve worked hard enough to deserve the glory, but he’ll be damned if he’s going to let you take this on yourself when there’s a bunch of people who get paid far more then you do to do it properly.

“Hey buddy,” Your dad greets him, still riding high off his relaxing vacation, “What can I do for you?”

Javi wastes no time in putting the file down on his desk, sliding it across for him. He opens it, picks up the loose papers and the photocopies of deeds and old articles. He slips his glasses on and reads as Javi sits in one of the chairs across from him and lights a cigarette, waiting for it to all click into place.

“Jesus,” He mutters, “You didn’t waste much time, did you?”

Javi shakes his head, takes the cigarette from his mouth between two fingers and points to some notes you’d given him from your bag.

“Wasn’t me.”

It takes your dad a minute to register your handwriting, “You mean this was her?”

“Yeah, I mean it was her,” Javi’s tone is stern, “Followed up on that drugs bust story and has managed to uncover the fact that the mayor’s prodigy is helping scum drug dealers pump god knows what onto the streets here.”

Your dad let’s out a low whistle, “I knew she was good, but this is something else.” Then Javi watches as he closes the file.

“I’m gonna have to corroborate all this before we can move forward.”

It the first time that Javi see’s red since he came back from Colombia. Red fucking tape. He’s lost count of the times he’s been so fucking close and foiled at the last minute by bureaucracy and here is no different.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not denying she’s done good work, but before we can walk in and arrest the prodigal son, I need to make sure this,” He taps his finger to the file, “Is rock fucking solid.”

“You remember asking me to come back?” Javi asks, “All those weeks back, practically begging me to help solve the drug problem in town?” He sucks in a breath and tries to keep his cool, “Your daughter hands you everything you need and you want to waste time corroborating?”

Javi listens as the man in front of him sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose and looks genuinely tired. He imagines this is what he must have looked like to others back in Colombia.

“My hands are tied, Jav,” He speaks, “Just like they always have been, just like yours were, and will be if you come back,” Javi can feel himself rolling his eyes, “If we do this, we do it by the book because any whiff of something off and that boy is off the hook, and you know I’m right.”

He can’t listen to this anymore, so he stands, chair legs scraping across the floor. He stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray on the desk, and then turns, taking two strides to the door before his name is being called.

“She give you this last night?”

He could lie, he knows he could, but he’s tired. Tired of being wrong, and on the wrong side of things all the time. He’s a detective, and a damn good one at that, he’ll work it out sooner or later, and knowing you spent all night in his bed, that you didn’t go home and both he and your mom know that, he realises he’s done lying.

“Yes, sir.”

The office door is opened and closed before he can wait for the fallout.

You’re still trying to get rid of the dull ache behind your eyes when he comes home, door slammed rather than shut, which does nothing to help the pain despite you being in a completely different room of the house.

You can hear him talking to Chucho, who you think has missed his calling in life as a nurse with the care you’ve been given today. Painkillers and fresh water every few hours, a sandwich for lunch made just how you like them and a hot compress across your forehead.

Thankfully, Javi is more gentle with the door to his room, closing it with a soft click, when he enters. You keep your eyes closed, feeling the bed dip next to you and his hand on your waist.

“Feeling okay?” He murmurs, placing his hand over the flannel on your forehead.

“Fine,” You grumble, cracking one eye open, “How’d it go?”

He shakes his head and scoffs, “Gave him the file and got a bunch of bullshit about needing to corroborate it all,” He’s dragging the compress off your skin now, walking to his bathroom as he talks, “As if it’s not all there in front of him, as if you didn’t get hurt trying to prove it all,” His voice gets louder as he walks back, flannel back on your forehead now warm again, “Practically begging me to come back and putting up all the red tape, I-”

“Javi,” You interrupt, “Stop.”

“What?” He asks, but not unkindly, “It’s true.”

“And he’s right, you know he is,” You counter, “This needs to be by the book because otherwise that asshole walks.”

Javi takes a deep breath and then chuckles, “You are your father’s daughter, cariño,” Shaking his head, “That’s exactly what he said.”

You pull at his arm to get him to lie down with you, lying side-by-side with his hand in yours, silence blanketing you both for a moment, apart from the cicadas outside the open window.

“You wanted to leave all that behind,” You say softly, curling into his side, “The heroics, everything in the newspapers, everything in Colombia,” You feel him squeeze your hand, “So leave it there, Javi, let someone else do it.”

He turns to face you now, peeling the flannel from your forehead before one of his hands is cupping your cheek, kiss pressed to the tip of your nose.

“Sometimes I wonder where all your sense comes from,” He muses, “But you’re right, I’m sorry, I know he’s only doing the right thing.”

You can feel your eyes getting heavy as you wrap your arms around his middle, face pressed to the crook of his neck.

“Sleepy?” He asks, tracing patterns up your spine.

“Mmhmm.” Is all you can manage.

“Then sleep baby,” His lips pressed to the top of your head, “I’ll be here in the morning.”

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Suburban Sparks

Pairing: Javier Peña x Steve's Little Sister Female Reader Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: What you think is another lame party hosted by your lame brother turns into an unforgettable night with the man you've had a crush on for the past eight years. Warnings: getting to fuck your teenage crush, smut, unprotected p in v sex (reader is on the pill and both are tested), oral f receiving, age gap (Javi's around 40, reader's in her twenties), almost getting caught by your big brother because Javier Peña is too good at oral, alcohol, green shirt muzzle, spot the "juno" by sabrina reference. takes place after s3. Words: 6,150 Thank you to @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

Suburban Sparks Masterlist Masterlist

 “Honey!” your mom happily exclaims from the kitchen table. “Stevey sent us mail!”

Stevey. Your brother’s currently hunting down one of the world’s most dangerous drug dealers and yet she still calls your older brother his childhood nickname. 

“Oh?” you feign interest as you take a seat and pour yourself a bowl of cereal. 

“Look how handsome he is here,” your mom says, holding up the photo. Yeah, okay, there’s your brother, he looks the same. But then, your eyes move to who’s standing next to him, and you almost spill the milk.

Standing next to him is the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. Wow. He looks like a vintage model of a car, out of place in his tight jeans and yellow aviators, but cool in a classic way. You’ve never liked mustaches, and yet, it works on him. Tall and fit, with wide shoulders and a broad chest. Your fingers tingle at the thought of running them through his hair.

“Is that… Javier?” you ask, trying to sound nonchalant. 

“I’m sure it is,” your mom muses. "He's handsome isn’t he?”

“I guess,” you shrug, all of those acting classes you took in middle school sure have paid off now as you pretend to not be totally enamored with the man in the photo. 

Your mom chatters on about Steve's latest exploits, but you're only half-listening, you’re too busy thinking about Javier. You wonder what his voice sounds like, if his hands are as strong as they look, how his mustache would feel against your skin. 

You visit the photo album with the picture of Javier often. And on a day when you’re feeling particularly brave, you take the photo from the page. And then—rip. Stevey is gone, leaving Javier alone. You tuck the photo into your pocket before sliding it into your bedside drawer. 

Years pass, the photo of Javier still sits in the bottom of your bedside drawer, as if it’s almost a token of your girlhood, of your innocence, of your teenage dreams. It moves with you from crappy apartment to crappy apartment. Sure, it feels a little pathetic to hold on to the secret connection with a man you’ve never met, but a girl never forgets her first crush on an older man. 

Steve sometimes mentions him, bringing snippets of information about Javier. “Javi’s still chasing cartels,” he might casually say over dinner, making your heart skip a beat. Or, “Peña’s thinking about transferring back to the States,” and suddenly you think about actually meeting him.

You go to college, date a few people along the way—an artist named Adam, a burlesque dancer named Rachel, a fellow actor named Trevor. You even spend three solid years with Lincoln, the sensible guy your parents just loved… but none of them ever quite measured up to the mysterious DEA agent who exists only in sporadic mentions and that faded photo. 

Some nights, after a couple glasses of wine, you still pull out the photo and think about him. What is he like now? Does he still dress like his closet is from the decade prior? What makes him laugh? Does he laugh often? Does he hold anyone in his arms at night? What would it feel like to be in those strong arms? Scenarios dance through your head—maybe he visits Steve, or you randomly meet him at a coffee shop. In your mind, he always notices you, and always feels the exact pull you feel. A girl can dream, even when she’s an adult with a job and an apartment. 

Steve and you have always lived very different lives. While he was the star athlete in school, you avoided sports, choosing the stage instead. While he was hunting down Pablo Escobar and saving the world from the cocaine king, you were secretly learning how to grow marijuana plants in your closet hidden from your parents. While he’s happily married, settled down, and raising your niece, you’ve just broken up with Lincoln, because he wanted kids and a future you weren’t ready for. 

You climb into your beat-up car that you really only rely on to get to Steve’s house for his and Connie’s annual harvest bonfire. The world turns from narrow streets lined with brick buildings to wide roads with large homes and playgrounds. Buses and pedestrians are traded for SUV’s and minivans.  

Steve only lives twenty minutes away from your tiny apartment in the Adams Morgan section of DC. Your kitchen is the size of his closet. Whenever you take the drive to his perfect suburban home, you feel like you’re traveling to a different world, especially once you pull up to his house. His pristine suburban castle with a driveway bigger than your whole apartment, feels like a whole world away, not less than a half hour.

The wooden gate creaks as you push it open, the sound immediately catching Olivia’s attention.

“Auntie!” she shouts, running toward you with her arms flailing in excitement.

“Hey, Liv!” You hug her tight and kiss the top of her head as she giggles. 

“Hey kid!” Connie calls from the patio, making her way down the steps carrying two bottles of beer. 

“Evening. One of those for me?” you ask. 

“Nope, we had some help setting up,” she tilts her head towards the gazebo. Steve sits next to… Javier Peña. Crap. 

Suddenly, you're hyper-aware of your outfit: an oversized flannel thrown over a plain white tee, faded jeans, and your scuffed Doc Martens. You dressed for a lame party hosted by your brother, never thinking the man that used to star in all of your teenage fantasies would be here. 

Your heart races as you approach the gazebo and try to keep your cool. Javier's eyes meet yours, and for a moment you forget how to breathe. He's even more handsome in real life, his mustache is perfectly groomed with sideburns that frame his chiseled jaw. Fuck, he’s so much better than that ripped picture that lives in your bedside table drawer. 

"Hey sis," Steve calls out, breaking the spell. "This is Javier Peña, my old workmate in Colombia."

Yeah Steve—you know all about him. 

Javier offers a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes… you feel so intimidated. "Nice to meet you," he says, his voice low and gravelly.

You manage a nod, suddenly at a loss for words… something nobody would ever say about you. "Yeah, hi, nice to meet you too,” you respond darting your eyes every which way to avoid looking at him. 

His eyes stay locked on you, you notice a slight movement in his jaw as he looks you up and down. Your body heats at his assessment. 

Steve breaks the tension with his voice.” Javi had a job interview at the office today. We couldn't let him stay at some boring hotel, now could we?"

“Mighty kind of you,” Javi says, his eyes still on you. You nervously shuffle on your feet, at a loss of words, trying to not show your inner panic. 

Steve clears his throat, catching Javier’s attention. “Where’s Lincoln?” 

“Oh, yeah, we broke up,” you shrug, taking a seat across from Javier, trying to loosen your shoulders.

“What?!” Steve exclaims. “I liked him!”

You roll your eyes. "Well, I can give him your number if you’re that upset. He’s single now."

A small chuckle leaves Javier’s lips. 

BEEP. BEEP. Steve’s watch goes off and he checks it with a frown. "I gotta go take care of the chili. You two going to be alright?”

“Well manage,” Javier answers, leaning back into the chair.

Fuck, this is… this is something you used to dream about. Sitting across from Javier Peña, just the two of you. Except in those dreams you were a hell of a lot cooler, now you can barely look over at him, your focus remaining on the frayed edge of your plaid shirt.

The silence stretches between the two of you.

“So,” he says, breaking the tenseness, “you broke up with your boyfriend recently?”

You meet his gaze. “Yeah. He wanted kids, the whole future thing. I wasn’t into it.”

Javier nods, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "And what are you into?"

You swallow hard, feeling your cheeks burn hot under Javier's intense gaze. What the hell are you into? God, if he only knew the fantasies you've had about him over the years. That’s what you’re really into. You use your improv lessons to good use. 

“Surviving this lame suburban party hosted by my lame brother and his patient wife who’s way out of his league.”

Javier laughs. “Connie said I’d like you.”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling a bit bolder now that you’ve made him laugh twice. “And was she right?”

“According to Steve, she’s never wro—”

“Auntie!” Olivia’s excited voice interrupts as she barrels toward you. “Come see my new dollhouse! It’s soooo big!” She grabs at your hand, tugging with all her might.

“Sorry, Javier, I have important aunt things to take care of,” you say standing up and letting Olivia pull you toward the house.

The party is in full swing. Steve’s friends are all here, standing in little circles with their polished wives.

They regale each other with tales of their kids—who’s excelling at school, who got the karate trophy. Someone is getting new hardwood floors, someone’s leaving for Bermuda on Tuesday. It’s a far cry from your parties with your friends, watching cartoons, discussing war crimes, and smoking joints on the tiny fire escape.

You glance over at Javier who lingers near the edge of the firepit. He looks as out of place as you, standing quietly, arms folded, watching the crowd. He’s listening, but not engaging—you know he’s just as uninterested in these tales of suburban bliss as you are.

You catch his eye for a moment, he tugs the edge of mouth up in a knowing smirk, as if you’re both in on the same joke. Two outsiders in this picture perfect world.

Connie breezes by with a tray of appetizers, smiling warmly at everyone as she plays the perfect hostess. She’s good at this, making it all look easy. You do admire her for it, but it all feels so stifling to you. You take a long sip from your hot apple cider and bourbon, hoping the alcohol will help soothe all the thoughts of how you’re not part of this world. 

You lean against the patio railing, watching as one of Steve’s friends launches into yet another story about their perfect child and their achievements. Javier comes and stands beside you, his presence making you feel almost lightheaded. You take another drink.

“Not exactly our crowd, huh?” you ask under your breath, loud enough for only him to hear.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “You could say that.”

You take another sip, glancing up at him. “Kind of feels like we’re in a brochure for suburbia, doesn’t it?”

Javier looks over at you, your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him glowing in the flicker of the orange flames. “Definitely.” 

“Think there’s a section on how to survive these kinds of things?”

He nods.

Another stretch of silence is shared between the two of you. Yours and his eyes observing all of the exploits of the perfect couples from afar.

Steve’s laughter echoes across the yard. “Hey! Peña, come on over here! This guy used to live near Laredo!”

Javier looks over at you and with an apologetic nod and walks towards Steve’s group with measured movements, like he’s already preparing to blend into the conversation.

The party begins to die down. You’ve been in a circle of conversation with Connie and a few of her friends. Connie’s warmth helps you fit in better, along with the warm apple cider and bourbon. You feel good and happy from all the spiked cider, like you can fit in a little more with Connie and her fellow perfect moms and wives. 

Your watch reads 11:45 when the last of Steve and Connie’s friends say goodbye. Javier helps Steve stack the chairs, you allow yourself to stare and watch the way his muscles flex beneath his shirt.  Taking drink after drink of your cider to try to quiet the want for him coursing through you.

"Hey, sis," Steve calls out, wandering over to where you're sitting on the edge of the deck. "You good to drive?" His blue eyes are red rimmed, he’s definitely had a good time tonight.

“Uh, no, not the best idea,” you shrug, suddenly feeling just how many drinks you had.

Connie appears at Steve's side, her arm wraps around his waist. She’s just as tipsy as your brother. "No worries, hun. You can stay in the guest room tonight. Though, Javier’s in your usual.”

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of staying under the same roof as him. You forgot he was staying here tonight. You nod, trying to not show the panic that’s inside you. "Thanks."

Steve yawns. "Well, I think it's time for bed. Long day, good party. You two gonna be okay out here?"

"We'll be fine," Javier says, his voice low.

Connie gives you a knowing look, a slight smirk playing on her lips. "Don't stay up too laaaaate," she sings. Steve’s oblivious, thankfully.

You watch as Steve and Connie make their way inside, arms wrapped around each other, giggling like teenagers. The sliding glass door closes behind them with a soft click, leaving you and Javier alone.

“You want to hang out?” He asks, nodding his head toward the low fire. 

“Yeah,” you breathe out. Is this a dream? 

You take a seat in a low adirondack chair, Javi chooses the one right next to you, not across, but next.

The fire crackles, casting a soft glow across Javier's face. You remind yourself to not turn your head and stare. 

"So," he says, turning to face you, his eyes roaming your face. "Tell me about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

“Whatever you want to tell me.”

"Well, much to my parent’s chagrin,” you take a deep breath. “I don’t live the suburban dream like my brother," you say, gesturing towards the large house. "I've got a tiny apartment in DC. My neighbors are a bunch of college kids and starving artists like me.”

"Sounds more interesting than this," he nods.

“Never a dull moment,” you shrug, finishing the cup of cider. 

"And what do you do?"

"I do graphic design, mainly freelancing for nonprofits and small businesses in between what few acting jobs I can book. Struggling artist and actor is not nearly as important as a DEA agent,” you shrug. “But it pays the rent and keeps me creative… though mom and dad are still confused why I’d want to do something so pointless with my life."

“Still sounds like you’re making a difference.” He offers you his glass of straight whiskey he’s been slowly sipping all night. His dark eyes watch you take a drink, your body melting at the thought of your lips touching his. 

“I guess,” you shrug, handing the glass back to him. “It’s not like I’m changing the world or anything. Just helping make things look nice, you know?”

His eyes don’t leave you.

“Doesn’t sound so small to me,” he says quietly.

“Yeah, well, it’s definitely not as thrilling as what you and Steve used to do in Colombia. I can’t imagine going from hunting down drug lords to… whatever this is,” you say, gesturing to the pristine yard.

“When the job ends, you either pack up and leave or you’re left with the mess.” He turns to face the fire, his eyes are distant, like he’s somewhere else entirely.

You hum in agreement, wondering what type of memories he carries with him.

“But I can see why your brother’s settled into this. It’s simple. Predictable.”

“Boring,” you add with a smirk.

“Yeah,” he agrees, with a half smile. “Boring.”

“So, all of this doesn’t appeal to you? The beautiful lawn, the beautiful wife, the picket fence? Seems like something every man wants.”

“Not everyone does,” he says after a pause.

"Yeah?” You tilt your head, curious.

“I used to think about it. But it never worked out that way. My job… didn’t leave much room for anything else.”

You give him a soft smile and nod. The silence floats through the air as the fire dies down.

“Maybe if the right person shows up…” he softly murmurs, finishing his glass of whiskey. 

You stifle a yawn.

"Getting late," Javier observes. "We should probably head inside."

You nod, suddenly aware of how tired you are. The fire has died down to glowing embers, the late night air turns chillier. You stand, swaying slightly as the effects of the apple cider and bourbon hit you.

"Whoa there," Javier says, his hand reaching out to steady you. His touch sends a jolt through your body.

"I'm fine," you insist, even as you lean into his warmth. "Just need some water."

He closely follows you into the house. The kitchen is dark, illuminated only by a night light plugged into the wall. 

"Glasses?" Javier asks.

"Um, top cabinet, I think.”

He grabs two glasses and fills them with water from the tap, handing one to you.

"Thanks," you murmur, taking a long sip. You lean against the counter, Javi stands in front of you. Somehow, Steve’s large kitchen now feels entirely too small, being in the presence of Javier’s wide shoulders and handsome face makes it hard to breathe.

“So,” you say, licking the water off your lips. “Your interview go well today?”

He nods, his eyes stay on your mouth. "Yeah. Don’t know what to think of it."

"Having second thoughts?"

He shrugs, his broad shoulders moving under his shirt. "Maybe. It's a desk job. Feels... strange after everything."

You nod, understanding. "Must be hard to go from all that excitement to pushing papers."

"It's... I don't know if I’ll be able to fit in that world."

"I know. Sometimes I look at Steve's life and wonder how we came from the same parents. Like we came from the same place, but I took a left turn while he took a right." His eyes meet yours, a spark of recognition passing between you. "So, if not a desk job, what do you want?"

He takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm not sure," he admits. "But I know it's not this." You understand exactly what he’s saying… the house, the neighborhood, the whole suburban lifestyle.

You swallow hard, your heart racing. "And what about right now? What do you want right now?"

You feel like you might burn up in flames under the heat of his eyes. Slowly and deliberately, he sets his glass down on the counter and moves to stand in front of you, his broad body casting you in complete darkness, blocking the dim glow of the night light. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb traces your lips.

"You," Javier murmurs, his eyes planted on your lips. "Right now, I want you."

You blink, unbelieving at the words you just heard. For years, you’ve dreamed of this. Imagined what it’d feel like to be touched by him, the sound of his voice. And now, it’s real. You expect to wake. 

"Javier," you whisper, your voice trembling slightly. "I—"

He doesn’t allow you to finish your thought, his lips seal over yours with a soft, hesitant kiss… like he knows he’s in his friend’s kitchen kissing his little sister. But when you wrap your arms around his neck, pull him closer and open your mouth, he softly groans as his tongue licks against yours.

His hands move to your hips, gripping them firmly as he pushes you back against the counter. The cool tile edge digs into your lower back.

He trails his lips along your jawline, down to your neck. A soft moan escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“Shh,” he soothes against your skin, his hot breath and mustache sends shivers down your spine.

You nod, biting your lip to keep quiet as his hands roam your body..

His fingers trace patterns on your bare skin when he slides his hands under your flannel and up your shirt. You shiver at his touch, desire pooling low in your belly. His lips find yours again, the kiss deeper and more urgent now.

A sudden creek from upstairs alerts the two of you. You both freeze, lips still barely touching, breath mingling between you.

He pulls back slightly, eyes dark and conflicted. Your chests rise and fall rapidly.

"We can't," he whispers, voice rough with regret. "You’re–you’re Steve’s little sister."

You nod, understanding and disappointed.

He takes a step back, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry," he says softly, his eyes rounded in guilt. "I shouldn't have—"

"No," you interrupt, shaking your head. "Don't apologize. I wanted it too." 

You’ve wanted it for years.

A tense silence falls between you. You can feel the ghost of his lips on yours and his hands on you.

"I should go to bed," you say finally, breaking the silence. "It's late."

Javier nods, his jaw clenching slightly. "Yeah, me too."

You make your way to the stairs, Javier following close behind.

“Well,” you lean against the threshold of your temporary room, with your hand on the doorknob. “Goodnight Javi.”

He runs his tongue across his teeth, sending you a lascivious wink. “Sweet dreams, bonita.” He glances down the hall, towards Steve and Connie’s room. 

Your fingers tighten around the doorknob, knowing once you turn it and open the door, the night will end. All you have to do is just take one step toward him and live out your teenage dream. With one last look at him, standing broad and tall in front of you, his lips agape, with his handsome jaw tense, you turn the knob and step into the room, shutting the door on your wildest fantasy coming true.

You toss and turn in bed, overheated by the kiss, feeling the touch of Javier imprinted on your skin. You stop yourself from getting out of bed and tip toeing to Javier’s door multiple times. You’re driving yourself cra—

A soft succession of knocks tap against your door.

God, it better be him. 

You delicately tip toe over to the door and open it. 

The door creaks open just enough, a blur of green sweeps in. His lips crash into yours, his tongue sliding deep into your mouth as he gently nudges the door closed. 

He pulls back, his eyes heavy, roaming your panting, frenzied face. 

“You gotta be quiet, I can only do this if you promise to be quiet.” 

You nod, your eyes blinking wide. 

“Yeah?” he asks, eyebrow tilting up. 

“Y-yes,” you whimper, his big arm wrapped around you tight, your hands clasping the soft olive green cotton of his shirt. 

He nods, sealing his mouth over yours. Your tongue responds to his, tasting the mint of his toothpaste, feeling the bristle of his thick mustache against your skin. He leads you to the bed, his lips not leaving yours as he lays you down against the dark blue sheets and climbs over you. He lays atop you, his broad body encompassing you underneath all of his silent strength. His knee parts your legs, a large hand running up the smooth skin of your thigh, pushing up the fabric of your night shirt.

Your back arch/es, chest pressing against his when he kisses his way down to your neck, gently nipping at it as his thumb traces the seam of your panties. 

“Javi,” you whisper, your fingers weaving through the soft strands of his hair. 

He glances up, his dark brown eyes staring into yours. Your mouth is agape, panting for air, already too overwhelmed by his attention. 

“Please,” is all you can muster. Your teenage dream is here in this bed with you, bunching your shirt up against your neck and tilting his head down to suck a nipple into his mouth. He nibbles and slides his tongue across your chest, flicking it against the sensitive peaks, winding you tight. 

Your hands loosen their hold of his hair the farther he kisses down your body. He kneels between your legs, lifting his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. His skin looks golden in this light, he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. 

His hand sweeps down your body, your hips instinctively lifting for him to peel your panties off, leaving you naked and ready for him in whatever way he’ll take you. 

He watches you with a cocky smirk tremble underneath his watch, too blissed out to stay still. He’s barely touched you and you’re already totally disheveled, you can tell he likes it. 

He breathes in your scent when he settles between your widespread legs, straining to fit his large shoulders between them. 

He spreads you wide, tongue darting out, swiping across his plush top lip as he watches his fingers explore your dripping cunt. 

His nose taps against your slick before his mouth engulfs you, his tongue painting you like a masterpiece.

A gasp and a moan escape your throat at the sweetness of his lips where you need him the most. His hand grips your thigh tight as a stern shush. 

“S-sorry,” you whisper, placing your palm against your mouth. 

Your DEA agent brother is just a room down the hall away. His good friend and ex work buddy’s lips are currently kissing and sucking your clit.

His tongue swirls around the wetness you’ve gushed out for him. Your head thuds against the pillow, teeth biting into your lips to keep you from moaning. It doesn’t work, a long “fuuuck” leaves your mouth. Javi unseals his mouth from you, wide brown eyes under furrowed, thick eyebrows give you a stern look, his mustache and mouth glistening with your wet. “My shirt,” he nods towards the crumpled up ball of green laying next to your head. “Use it,” he instructs, before dipping back into between your legs. 

You grasp the shirt, stuffing the fabric in your mouth, breathing a sigh of relief at the extra layer of protection protecting you and Javier’s secret escapade. He’s now all over you, the taste of the beer left on his tongue still in your mouth, the feel of his tongue against your aching core, the sight of his dark hair between your thighs, the sound of his throat letting a low moan out against your cunt, the smell of him leftover on the shirt that now acts as a muzzle. 

The bed squeaks as you begin canting your hips against him. A firm hand pushes down on your stomach, holding you in place, Javier’s mouth digging deeper in between your legs. 

His shirt muffles your whimpers and cries, and when he sticks a finger into your entrance, you bite down on the soft cotton, tears springing in your eyes at the maddening frustration of staying quiet. 

The shirt does little to muffle the sob you choke out when he adds a second finger, curling them inside you with expert precision. Your thighs tremble as you teeter on the edge. Javi's tongue flicks relentlessly against your clit, his fingers pumping in and out at a merciless pace. 

You knew it, he’d be so fucking good at this.

You're so close, teetering on the precipice of an earth shattering orgasm. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as your back arches off the bed. The shirt in your mouth barely muffles your desperate whimpers.

Suddenly, a loud creak echoes from the hallway. Footsteps. Steve.

Javi freezes, his eyes darting up to meet yours. You both hold your breath, your hearts pounding. Javier’s mouth stays planted against your cunt, his fingers lay still inside you. The footsteps pause outside your door for what feels like forever.

You can feel Javi’s breaths against your overheated core as he stays perfectly still. 

A gentle knock on the door makes your heart leap into your throat. 

“Hey, you awake?” Steve’s quiet voice comes through the door.

Javi’s eyes widen in panic. The bed creaks as gently extracts his fingers from inside you and pulls away, rubbing the slick of you off his chin onto your thigh. The bed creaks again, when he slowly lifts up.

You have to respond now. Shit.

You pull down the shirt. Mocking a loud yawn. “Yeah… I’m fine,” you manage. “Just–-uh–had a weird dream I think.’”

Your heart pounds against your chest while you wait for a response. Javi stays perfectly still, his eyes locked on the door. 

“Alright,” he says finally. “Sleep well. G’night.”

“Good night,” you mumble. 

His footsteps retreat down the hall, your head thuds against the bed with relief. Javi remains frozen, barely breathing until you hear the creak of Steve’s door opening and closing. 

Javi’s eyes meet yours, he smirks at you mischievously with a raised eyebrow, his silent question asking if you want to continue. 

You nod, spreading your legs wider for him. A lascivious smile spreads across his face before he dips his head back down, his tongue finding your clit.

His fingers slide back into you as his tongue swirls around your sensitive nub. You grab his shirt and stick it back in your mouth, biting hard and muffling the whimpers. He works you back up with perfect precision. 

And when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot, you’re gone. 

Your orgasm crashes over you, back arching off the bed, thighs clamping around his head as you writhe against his mouth. You can’t be loud, you must stay quiet.

His mouth doesn’t let up, licking and drawing out your climax, drinking down all that you offer him. Your nose huffs loudly, breathing in and out rapidly trying to catch your breath as the aftershocks subside. 

He kisses your thigh, the bristle of his mustache tickles your sensitive flesh. He slowly licks and kisses his way up your body before he gently tugs his shirt from your mouth, replacing it with his lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands roam all over his smooth, broad shoulders feeling the firm muscles that lie underneath his soft skin. 

“Javi?” you moan against his lips. 

“Yeah?” he asks, pulling away. 

You can feel the hardness of him pressed against your thigh, still covered by the soft fabric of his grey sweatpants.

You’ve wanted him for years, and now’s your chance, here in the guest bedroom of your brother’s white picket fence surrounded home. 

“Will you fuck me?” you ask, before licking a line across his top lip. 

He groans, dropping his forehead against yours. “Yes, but, you gotta be real fuckin’ quiet, okay?”

“Promise,” you whisper. "I'm... clean and on the pill. Javi... can I feel you?"

He rises up to hover over you. "Fuck... yes baby,” he growls.

You watch with your mouth agape, your legs spread wide and waiting, as he quickly shimmies out of his sweatpants.

He's thick and hard, the tip glistening with precum. His smooth body lays atop you, smothering you with his firm weight. 

He positions himself between your legs, the tip of his cock teases your entrance before he slowly enters you. Oh, his wide cock stretches you divinely. 

Your lip begins to hurt from biting down on it so hard, trying to keep quiet. He seals his mouth over yours, swallowing down your cries and moans as his hips roll against yours. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him into you deeper. 

The bed creaks with the controlled power of each of his thrusts. You pray your brother can’t hear. 

Javi steadies his thrusts, trying to keep quiet, the tension radiating off of him. He buries his face into your neck, his sharp nose pressing against your skin there. You can tell he wants to pound into your cunt, rattle the bed against the wall, take everything he can from your accepting pussy.

Your hands run down his back, feeling the flex of his muscles slick with sweat.

A moan escapes your mouth when he slowly pulls out before thrusting all of his length into you. 

“Shh pretty girl, shhh,” he whispers. Balling up the edge of his shirt and sticking it into your mouth. 

His eyes darken when you stare up at him, wide eyed with the bundle of green fabric muzzling your mouth. 

He licks his way up your neck to your ear. He whispers “Fuck, you feel so good,” into your ear, his hot breath hitting against your skin. You whimper around his shirt at his words and his thick cock stretching you, hitting the spot you want him to hit the most with each thrust. 

You pull the shirt out of your mouth. “Javi,” you breathe, “I’m close.” He nods. His hand snakes between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing tight circles.

It’s too much. You pull him down closer to you, burying your face in his neck to muffle your moans as you come undone all over his cock. 

“That’s it,” he whispers, gritting his teeth as you pulse around and squeeze his cock. He slows his thrusts, letting you catch your breath as your blissed out body recovers. He kisses you sweetly. “You good?” he asks.

You nod, eyes heavy and body loose from your orgasm. You still want more. “More,” you manage to whisper.

He growls, suddenly pulling out and flipping you onto your stomach. 

“On your knees,” he snarls, his large hands guide your hips up. 

You comply, arching your back, presenting your overworked and wet cunt to him. He runs his hand over the curve of your ass before gripping your hips. He thrusts inside you, the coarse curls around the base of length soaking with the remnants of your orgasm. 

He’s so fucking deep, his hips setting a pace slapping against the flesh of your ass. 

“I know, I know,” he mutters softly. “You need to be quiet.” 

You reach forward, grabbing his shirt and bringing it to your mouth to bite down hard on as he pounds into you from behind. 

He grips your hips tighter, his thick fingers digging into your flesh with each thrust. His heavy breathing pants into the air, the bed creaks loudly underneath his force. 

He slides in and out, your sensitive cunt feels every inch of him. 

He leans over you, his chest searing against your back. His lips brush against your ear as he whispers, “You’re taking my cock so good, aren’t you? So fucking tight and wet.”

You push your back further against him, telling him to take all that he can from you. 

“Fuck, I’m close,” he pants. “Such a good fucking pussy, going to cum all over you.”

You turn your head, letting go of the shirt from your mouth. “Cum for me Javi,” you whisper. 

He nods, pulling out of your slick, and with a low groan, his white ropes of cum marks his territory all over your ass. You hope you'll forever feel the gentle taps of it against your skin as he empties himself.

“Fuck,” he pants, before rising from the bed and wiping the sweat off his brow. You collapse on the bed, your overworked limbs welcoming the softness of the mattress. He grabs his shirt, wiping it across himself before he cleans your skin with it. “Be right back back,” he whispers as he puts his sweatpants on. 

You nod, watching him softly open the door and looking down the hall checking to make sure it’s safe. The soft click of the door leaves you alone with your racing thoughts. Remnants of Javier Peña’s cum lays on your skin… almost ten years after seeing that first photo of him. 

He walks back in with a damp towel. “Spread for me,” he whispers. You obey, welcoming the warmth of the water against your overworked core. His touch is gentle against you.

“Do you know what time your brother usually gets up?”

“Usually around seven,” you answer, your eyes already growing heavy.

He nods, glancing down as he sets an alarm on his watch. "I’ll set my alarm for 6:45."

Before you can ask why, surprised that he’s staying, he pulls off his sweatpants and slips into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you. 

“Good night Javi,” you sigh.

“Sweet dreams bonita.”

The alarm blares at 8:30, you groan, rolling over in the now empty bed. Hold on–did...was? You’re pretty sure you just dreamed the most vivid Javier Peña fantasy you’ve ever had… because that couldn’t have been real… until you see the bundled up green shirt laying next to you. 

---

Next Installment

[stardustrebels]

Seasons of Life Challenge Day 19- Heat

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader Rating: 18+/ M (MDNI) WC: 500

A/N: Day 19 of the Jan 2025 writing challenge by @fanfictionoverload! This is just pure, unadulterated smut, idk what else to tell ya.

Warnings: unprotected PIV (wrap it before you tap it, folks), creampie, banging loudly up against a window, so I guess maybe semi-public sex?

Challenge Masterlist

The summer in Colombia was relentless. The kind of heat that wrapped around you like a suffocating smog, making every breath an effort. Your dress stuck to your lower back like a second skin and you could feel sweat gathering at your hairline. The open window above you refused to offer the slightest hint of a breeze, but you didn’t care. 

All you could focus on was Javier, and how he felt around you as he pinned you against the glass. The window wasn’t even cool against your back- the heat from sun mingled with the searing passion rolling off the both of you as he thrust up in to you. His hands gripped your thighs to keep you in place, fingers digging in to your skin as he groaned against the curve of your neck.

“Jesus, baby,” he hissed, “You feel too good- too fucking good.” 

You couldn’t form words. You could barely think. Your hands scrambled against the fogged glass behind you and found purchase in the grooves of the window frame. Javier adjusted his hold as you lifted yourself up. The angle changed almost imperceptibly, but it was enough to send you reeling. You let out a whine and Javier chuckled breathlessly. 

“Oh that’s the spot, huh?” He murmured as he thrust harder, his cock hitting a spot inside of you that you weren’t sure anyone had ever found before. You chased the overwhelming pleasure with every snap of his hips. It was way too much and not enough all at once. 

“C’mon, Princessa,” Javier murmured, his lips brushed your ear, sending a shiver chasing the beads of sweat rolling down your back. “You’re so close.” 

A moan was wrenched from you, so loud you knew there was no way it couldn’t be heard by everyone on the street below. It spurred you on as tension started to build and your thighs started to tremble.  “That’s it,” Javier groaned through shallow breaths, “fucking come for me, baby. I’ve got you.”

A wave of pleasure tore through your body, an exquisite tension unravelling simultaneously into a rush of euphoria. A broken cry fell from your lips as your vision blurred and white-hot bliss drowned out absolutely everything else. 

Javier’s pace was erratic as he chased his own end, the sound of your pleasure spurring him on. 

“Fuck,” he growled as he buried himself one last time, body shuddering against yours. His deep guttural sounds filled the room, and no doubt echoed in to the street below, as he spilled his release, flooding every inch of you. 

He groaned as he slid out of you and set you down, taking a moment to make sure you could stand on your own before he brushed a damp strand of hair from your face. “Well, it wasn’t cooler by the window,” he said, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. You let out a choked laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek before reaching for a cigarette from the table nearby.

[loquaciousferret]

Over And Done With

Pairings: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: persistent but not dubcon or noncon. javi being a cocky rude asshole (you all know my Javi by now) smut 18+, oral (f receiving) fingering, unprotected sex, unsafe sex, sexism

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Javi is still my leading man guys... Enjoy this little piece of filth. Thank you for over 1k on my other two Javi oneshots, so grateful! Thanks to Lucy and Gi as always for thots with me ;)

Playlist: Dark But Just a Game - Lana Del Rey | Less I Know The Better - Tame Impala | Business - Catfish and the Bottlemen | Californication - Red Hot Chilli Peppers

You waited until the office was nearly empty. That wasn’t a deliberate choice, simply a consequence of how long it took you to pluck up the nerve to face Agent Peña and tell him that the meaningless sex you two had been having for the past few months was over.

You knocked on his door and he drawled to come in. 

You opened it and crossed the threshold to his office timidly. He was standing at a filing cabinet, rifling through papers, a tight white shirt stretching over his wide shoulders and strong biceps- Stop it. You tell yourself.  

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He says, his gaze rising to meet yours. You don’t miss the way his eyes trail up and down your body shamelessly, fixing for a second on the exposed skin of your thighs, and again on your chest. 

“We need to talk.” You say firmly.

He doesn’t even attempt to hide the insolent roll of his eyes. He loosens his tie and reaches for the cigarettes on his desk.

“Really?” He says, irritated. 

“This… Arrangement between us. It’s over.” 

“Wow.” He says, sarcastically. “And the hits just keep on coming today. What put that stupid thought in your head then, huh?” 

You narrow your eyes. Why does he always have to be such a dick. You ignore the question.

You make your way towards his desk and reach into your purse. You retrieve a set of handcuffs and clatter them onto the tabletop.

“You forgot these in my bedroom.” You say, feigning nonchalance.

“I didn’t forget them. They were there for safekeeping.” His smirk is growing with each comment he throws at you.

“Well, I won’t be needing them anymore.” 

He has a smug and infuriating expression. “No, keep ‘em. They’re a parting gift.”

“They aren’t yours to give. They’re the property of the US government.”

“Riiight.” He agrees, in a mocking tone.

You turn to leave and hear him sigh. “Thanks for stopping by, sweetheart. My place or yours tonight?” 

“Peña-" You huff in frustration, turning to face him. "Have you not listened to a word I said? We are done.” 

He takes a lazy draw of his cigarette, not wiping the taunting smirk off his face the entire time.

"No, we're not." He shoots back.

You sigh. "Why do you have to be so difficult? It's not a big deal, we don't even like each other, in fact, I barely tolerate you, so-"

He cuts you off "Then why do you keep coming back for more?"

You shake your head and turn away from him, not pleased with the direction of conversation, and desperate to get out before he can work his magic on you. But he stalks towards you, and though you had nearly reached the door he is spinning you round to face him and presses your back into it instead.

"I-"

"Shhh," He coos. "I know why. You crave me. Like an addict needs a hit, baby."

"No, I-"

"Yes. That's why you beg me for it. That's why you give yourself to me, any time, any place." His voice has dropped to a whisper and he is so close to you, his hot breath causes goosebumps to raise on the surface of your skin.

"You see how your body reacts to me?" He smirks, "I haven't even touched you, cariño."

"Just admit it." He urges you.

You somehow gather the resolve to shake your head, and a passing thought tells you that you should have attempted this in a more public place so he couldn't accost you like this and throw the whole conversation off track.

You reach out to push him away and create distance between you, trying to escape from the overwhelming cloud of his scent that envelopes you. Citrus, tobacco, sea salt, gunpowder.

"Please, Javi, no, I-"

He takes you by the wrist to stop you from pushing him, and his other hand lifts up your chin and forces you to look into his eyes. They are dark with lust and menace.

"Fine, baby, we can stop." He says, a sweet tone to his voice that you know is too good to be true. "On one condition."

"What?" You respond, somewhat breathlessly, still lost in the sensation of his heady presence.

"You let me slide my fingers up your skirt. If you're not dripping wet for me, I'll let you go."

You know that arousal has been growing between your legs ever since he invaded your personal space. It was an animalistic reaction, but one that betrayed your true feelings, leaving you vulnerable to the dominating Javi. Your thighs were clenched together in an attempt to relieve some of the tension, but it wasn't working.

"Don't be ridiculo-" You begin to protest.

"I'm not. Stop trying to deny your body what it wants. What you want. You want me."

When he slips a large palm between your thighs and begins to gently prise apart the tight grip you have them locked in, you know you are completely beat. One touch from him and you will fall to his mercy, desperately chasing the pleasure you know he is capable of giving you. And this reminds you exactly why it is so hard to ever break things off with Javi. He is utterly relentless, and there are no rules when he is in charge. He never gives you a fair chance.

A small moan escapes you, and he chuckles. You hate that in this game you are trapped in with him, you can never help yourself from showing your cards too early, always emboldening him further to take from you what he wants. And he is right, you do want it too, as destructive as it is to give yourself to someone like him, you can't deny the way he makes you feel, and you end up right back where you started every time you attempt to withdraw to a safe distance.

His fingers graze the hem of your panties, then, he must change his mind, withdrawing them. You whine, giving away more and more just how much you desire his touch. You are surprised when he is dropping to his knees in front of you.

"Jav-"

"Shh, baby." He says. He takes the fabric of your skirt and pushes it up your legs, slowly exposing your skin inch by inch until it is bunched around your hips and he is separated from your arousal by only your thin red lace panties.

"Who are you wearing these for if you weren't planning on being with me today?" He says, licking up your thighs and sucking lightly at certain spots.

You whine pathetically at the sensation and his lips tickle you as they curve into a smirk. He puts a hand between your legs and seperates them further, putting his head between your thighs and pressing his face into the fabric. He inhales deeply and groans, sending vibrations through you, making you throb with desire.

"I'm gonna taste how turned on you are for me." He whispers.

He hooks fingers into the waistband of your panties and drags them down your legs. The cold air hitting your hot, wet core makes you shiver. You step out of your underwear and he stuffs them into his pocket.

He returns to being nestled between your legs and places kisses to your inner thighs, making his way closer to the spot which needs his attention at a teasingly slow pace.

You manage to keep quiet and resist from begging him to hurry up.

Thankfully, he finally licks a wide stripe up your entire core. He literally moans gutturally as he does so. He sends your head into a spin every single time he eats you out like this, so enthusiastic and starving for you.

He alternates between licking up and down your folds and stopping to focus on your clit at the top, sucking gently, circling his tongue around it, constantly varying his pace so that every time you started to get used to the sensation, he would have you whining again by changing up the intensity. He then focusses on your tight entrance, inserting his tongue and then fucking you with it, licking up the arousal leaking from you.

Then, he grips your thigh, and swings your leg over his shoulder to improve his angle of access to you. This practically makes your knees buckle, and he has to hold you up with both hands as he continues to feast on you.

You start to feel your orgasm building and grip his hair, rolling your hips against his mouth to increase the pressure. He senses all of these changes in your movements and knows you are close, focussing his attention entirely on your clit in a steady rhythmic fashion that he knows will take you over the edge.

It doesn't take long before you are shaking with the intensity of the orgasm. But he doesn't stop, harshly warning you to quiet down because there are still people around the embassy and these sounds are only for him. He sucks on your clit gently until it is overstimulated and tears begin to form in your eyes.

Eventually, he pulls back, but you only get a moment of reprieve until he is jamming two fingers inside your cunt to replace his mouth. Your wetness makes it relatively easy to take but you still mewl at the sensation. He curls them and their length allows them to hit a spot deep inside you.

Everything about being intimate with Javi is levels of intensity far beyond what you can achieve alone, or that you ever have with previous lovers. He brings a whole new meaning to the idea of pleasure. You don't tell him this. His ego is big enough.

He brings a thumb to your clit and brushes it gently, continuing to torment you with his two fingers which entered you, scissored and curled, slipped back out of you, and thrusted back in. His pace was inconsistent, so you were left on the edge, never knowing what to expect. As he starts to rub your clit in circles, you notice how sensitive you are from your first orgasm.

"Javiiii-" You drag out the syllable as you whine loudly in pleasure.

"You're gonna cum again before I fuck you." He growls.

"No, no, please." You say, your legs shaking. He combats this by pinning your thighs to the wall with his free forearm, keeping you stuck there.

"It wasn't a question."

He kisses at your skin, wherever he can reach, as he continues to work you with his hand. He presses his lips to your hipbone, then trails down to the thickness of your upper thigh, his moustache tickling you as he travels downwards. Then, he sucks lightly, and you gasp. He nibbles and sucks harder, trying to leave marks. He has a somewhat possessive side to him, revelling in marking your body whether it be with hickeys or handprints. Not in places that others will see, just in private spots where he can admire them for himself.

You know he is trying extra hard to be generous just to remind you why you aren't going to cut him off. He is taking his time on you to prove to you all the reasons why you won't really stop seeing him. It is obvious that this is his ulterior motive, and yet it is working, you start to think you were too rash in your decision to end things.

His tongue flicks over the painful marks he has sucked and bitten into your inner thighs. It tickles and this adds to the once again growing sensation of an orgasm, one that you know is going to rip through you with even more ferocity than the first.

You are whining and moaning his name, panting as the tension inside you reaches a peak, ready to snap at any second and have you unravel all over him.

When it does happen, you think you go slightly dizzy. Your mouth falls open into a scream that never actually leaves your room. You are overwhelmed into silence, your body twitching. You curl your hands through his hair and try to pull him away from you, and he finally obliges.

He takes you by the hand and pulls you away from the door, locking it behind you and moves you both towards the desk. He sits you on top of it, on top of no doubt important government documents. He unexpectedly kisses you on the head, and even in your blissed out post-orgasm state, you note that this is the first time he has ever done this.

But the moment is over quickly, as he is soon spreading your legs again, unbuckling his belt and releasing his erection from his stupidly tight jeans. It doesn't matter how many times you sleep together, you never get used to the size of it every time you see it.

He unbuttons your blouse and slides it off your arms. He stares and takes you all in.

"All for me." He says, dipping his head to the curve of your cleavage and plastering kisses there, stroking his cock against your folds to gather lubrication. You moan at the feeling of it sliding through your sensitive parts, nudging your clit and making you hiss sharply. The next time he comes down to your entrance, he stills. He presses a hand onto your chest to lay you backwards onto the desk. Then he plunges inside you at full force and your back arches from the table top instantly.

You exclaim and he presses a hand to your mouth. The other is gripping one hip, pulling you back onto his cock with each thrust. He has chosen to start with an immediately punishing pace. You know that he is impatient now, having spent so much time on you, that he wont want to draw out his own pleasure, and will use your body now without mercy to reach his own release.

The desk screeches against the floor and some objects roll off the side. This doesn't so much as cause him to falter. He is hyper-focussed on the task at hand, his gaze fixed on watching himself slam in and out of you, only occasionally looking up at you to appreciate the look of pleasure on your face for a moment before looking back down at the place the two of you are connected.

He removes the hand from your mouth and takes it to the other hip, thrusts now impossibly forceful with him pulling your whole body weight against him with every single one.

You wrap your legs around his back and lock your ankles together, pushing him slightly deeper inside you and he grits his teeth. "Fuck, cariño. Tan apretada."

"So tight," He repeats, "You like it, huh?"

You can't respond, too consumed by pleasure. You nod pathetically and you can feel his smirk burning down on you, you know he is watching your face now, admiring the way he can make your expression twist, your mouth fall open, and your eyes squeeze shut.

The feeling is so intense that you are growing numb to it, he is rhythmically slamming against your deepest spots, causing you to whine and whimper, your limbs going slack.

He always becomes more vocal as he reaches his climax, and he does so now, You like my cock, huh? You come in here just to get fucked like this? I know you wanted it, sweetheart.

"You gonna take my cum inside you like a good girl?" He asks

You nod at the last one. "Please, Javi."

"You gonna beg for my cum?"

You whine, half in protest, half because he has somehow changed the angle to result in even more devastating thrusts.

"Do it." He demands.

You perform for him how he asks, using up what little concentration you have to plead in a sultry tone that he fill you up. That he make you his. That he remind you who you belong to.

Soon, he is grunting, profanity spilling from his lips as he tenses up inside you, filling you with hot spurts of his cum.

He stays inside you and leans down, kissing at your neck and chest. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and play with the soft curls at the back of his neck. The pair of you rarely indulge in a tender moment after sex. He seems so different today.

He does pull out after a few moments, and you pout at him, disappointed by the sensation and missing the feeling of him buried inside you. He smiles and runs a finger over your downturned lips. "Can't stay in there forever. You don't think I want to?"

He takes a few steps away from you, turning away from you to readjust himself. When he faces you again, leaning lazily against the wall, lighting a cigarette, watching you re-dress, his demeanour has completely changed back to usual. His cruel, taunting smirk has returned when you look up at him, straightening your skirt and readjusting it to where it should be just below your mid-thighs. He looks and notices one of the bruises he left just peeking out from under the hem.

You stare back but you don't have any words for him. He fills the silence, walking towards you.

"You see? We’re done when I say we are done, princesa. I'll see you later."

He pats your ass dismissively, sending you on your way, and you exit his office on weak legs. You should have known this would happen, you and Javi still aren’t over and done with yet.

My other smutty Javier Pena works: Partners | Little Games | All Work, No Play

Pedro Pascal Masterlist Taglist @silkiers @lovers-liability @tightjeansjavi @chaotic-mystery @atyourmomshouse01 @lucreziazaninelli @pedropascalfan221 @decaffeinatedweirdo @kamcrazy123 @kdogreads @dreamsofmandalore @serenaxpedro @777-wonders @im-the-daddy-here-5 @emcousland-blog

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO A PERMANENT JAVI TAGLIST OR FOR ALL PEDRO WORKS

[creedslove]

boyfriend!Javier Peña who is so painfully insecure in this relationship it breaks your heart; the lack of confidence in himself where he just assumes he isn't good enough for you or he's gonna screw up somehow is just so much, late at night when he is sitting by the window smoking a cigarette and watching you sleep in his bed he wonders if he lost his damn mind for openly getting in a relationship with you

boyfriend!Javier Peña doesn't even like to remember how his work adds to all the pressure he already feels towards your relationship. It's dangerous, it's too many long hours, it's frustrating and the future is always uncertain, a part of him hates himself for dragging you into his mess

boyfriend!Javier Peña can't even remember how to date properly, last time he had dated dated was before his wedding fiasco in Laredo all those years back; after that, he just went from woman after woman, a catalogue of blurry faces and meaningless physical touch that always left him soaked into his own loneliness

boyfriend!Javier Peña is scared and almost every night convinced things between the two of you was a mistake, but then he saw you, how you slept in his shirt, the way your skin felt against him, your scent, your lips... All about you made his heart race

boyfriend!Javier Peña knew from that moment on he could never give you up, even if it meant he was going to be a damn selfish man for not letting you go, but so be it, he was going to keep you within

boyfriend!Javier Peña would be the most protective man over you; he'd be constantly worried about your safety and well being given his job as a DEA agent in Colombia, which means he would definitely teach you self defense

boyfriend!Javier Peña would definitely teach you how to shoot, being impressed with how good you are since lesson one, he'd feel so proud and surprised to see how turned on a woman like yourself with a gun in hands made him

boyfriend!Javier Peña most definitely suggests you paint your nails red to match the gun holding in your hand, that sight gives him chills and he can't believe how lucky he truly is

boyfriend!Javier Peña is definitely pleased to see you can handle yourself by being a badass gorgeous goddess to him and each time you fall asleep on his chest, he allows himself to picture a future with you, where he'd take you to a beautiful ranch and make you the happiest woman in the world

boyfriend!Javier Peña won't ever admit it but he loves watching Steve's baby and daydream the day you will carry your own baby Peña

boyfriend!Javier Peña loves you with all his heart, sometimes he still thinks he isn't worthy of you, but he's thankful you are so kind to him, you gave him a chance to experience what true love is like

boyfriend!Javier Peña worships you, you are the most precious thing in the whole world for him, and there's nothing that man wouldn't do for you ❤️

[ariisheresstuff]

Gon request a Javier Peña x reader where they’re like married and Javi had a late day and got home late n stuff and reader is all tucked into bed and he just gets real domestic n shit and he tried really hard not to wake her up but she’s already awake and she asks about his day and as he’s telling her he sees that she’s fallen back to sleep

Thx :)

Dozing Off

Pairings: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

MasterList

A/N: Ty for the request! Enjoy! <3

It was around two in the morning when Javi got home from work. Today was draining for him. Him and Steve had a new case coming up and the paperwork and investigations were just exhausting. Javi yawned as he entered the apartment you and him shared. You and him have been married for almost two years but dating for about three years. He took out the key to the front door and quietly opened the door and entered in. He threw his stuff on the floor before going into the kitchen to get a drink. He paused when he say a note on the counter. He took the note that read:

I made your favorite for dinner, it’s in the fridge. Heat it up. I love you mi amor. ~Y\N

Javi smiled at the note but frowned a bit, he felt like a bad husband for always leaving you at home to cook and clean while he’s out busting his ass. You two haven’t really had a proper moment with each other. Javi quickly took a shot of liquor before deciding that he should eat the food you made for him. His heart felt light at the fact that you made food for him even though he’s never properly home with you.

Once Javi finished eating, he entered the bedroom. He stepped in quietly as he admired your sleeping form on his side of the bed. He chuckled through his nose before walking up to you. He kneeled down as he rubbed your back softly before kissing your forehead gently. “I’m home cariño,” he said softly, he stood back up and quickly changed into his sleep wear. As Javi turns to face the drawers, his arm hit a candle that was sitting on the nightstand. The impact caused the candle to fall making a big thud. Javi gritted his teeth as he catched the candle. “Javi?” He heard your groggy voice call his name as he turned to see you lift your head with your eyes squinting at him. “Shit, I’m sorry baby. I didn’t mean to wake you, go back to sleep.” Javi went over to you as he repeatedly kissed your head as he rubbed your back to get you to sleep. “It’s okay, I was trying to stay awake for you but clearly that didn’t work.” You chuckled making Javi sigh “Baby, I told you to not wait up for me. You need sleep.” Javi cupped your face as he rubbed a thumb over the apple of your cheek. You took his hand and kissed his palm. “You need sleep too.” Javi sighed knowing that you were right, he let go of your cheek as he went to put on his sleepwear. You watched him as you did, “How was your day?” You asked him through a yawn making him chuckle, “Same old shit. Steve being a pain in the ass like always.” You rolled your eyes before laughing at him, Javi got into bed with you as he pulled you into his chest. “Anything exciting happening?” You asked him once more as you drew shapes on his bare chest, Javi sighed as he also drew shapes on your arm. “Starting a new case. Not that much detail yet, but I’m pretty sure it will be more of a shit show than Escobar. Motherfucker was not giving us a break. I’m pretty sure that this case will— Javi stopped his sentence as he heard you start to snore. He looked down at you in his arms to see you passed out. Javi couldn’t help but laugh, and he shook his head. “Guess I bored you with my job cariño,” He joked before kissing your head a few times, “Sleep tight, mi amor.”

Tag-List: @otomefan @slasherstories123 @amis-love-bugs @avengersfan25

[mybworlds]

Chapter 7

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: Javier Peña and his partner can't stand each other, but to take down an old enemy they are forced to work together and pretend to be a complacent married couple.

Series warnings: language , violence, alcohol use, slow burn, angst, mutual pining, smut (18+ MDNI), creampie, oral sex (m and f), fingering, masturbation (m and f), trauma and SA referencing.

Masterlist

Before to start… thank you so much for your likes and reblogs, I really appreciate it ☺️ I'm not an expert on these spy agencies, so if I got something wrong, don't get angry or offended. 😬 And maybe some aspects of Peña's character may change, if it's necessary. 🔎 I don’t know how many chapters the story will have. 📖 If you didn't like this story, it's okay, be kind and move on 🙂

Taglist: @love-affair-with-fandoms; @pedr0swh0r3; @angel98624; @missladym1981; @harriedandharassed if you want to be added let me know.

Thanks @saradika for the divider.

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

In his arms you fell asleep again, every now and then you open your eyes when you feel him kissing your shoulder or the hollow between your neck and shoulder. You find yourself smiling and then falling back asleep, still savoring the moments spent with him and basking in the idea that all of this could last forever.

When you wake up about an hour later, you sit up in the middle of the bed, he's lying on his stomach, hugging his pillow, you notice his fake wedding ring and then you look at yours. You see and hear him breathing deeply, everything still seems so sweet and perfect, you slide your fingers very delicately along his back in a caress that almost feels like a farewell. You frown as if gripped by a horrible and painful thought, you can't be with him.

You and him will never be happy together.

Just the thought of having to separate from him hurts, but if your past echoes within you, at the same time you think you can't go back to work and let everyone know that you and him are a couple..

But are you really a couple? Or are you just one of the many women for him? A notch in his infinite scale of seductions and subsequent abandonments?

You turn your head towards him, his lips are half open and he has a sweet, innocent expression that, if possible, almost makes you feel guilty for having these thoughts. However, you tell yourself that it's right to have these qualms about him given his reputation. A few days are not enough to completely erase it.

We should end it here and hope we can ignore what happened, you think.

You get up and go to the bathroom, you lock yourself in and get in the shower and you think that you don't want him to join you in the shower or everything would be even more painful and difficult. It's hard enough as it is, you think as you turn on the jet of cool water that wets your hair and flows down your body.

While you're soaping up, you think that you don't want your coworkers to gossip about you behind your back and say things like, how could Peña get together with a bitch like that? Or again, she who pretended to be indifferent to his attentions, finally gave in and let Peña fuck her, but on the other hand, how could she resist him?

No, you can't stand to hear these sentences or hear snickers behind your back. Better to ignore what happened between you, it's better.

But better for whom?

You and him can't be together.

Better cut this relationship now.

You only know how to make someone suffer.

A thousand thoughts, a thousand words, a thousand doubts, a burning bitterness crowd your head. Javier won't take it well, he won't like it, but you're doing it for his own good. Or maybe you're just doing it for you and you're giving yourself the alibi that you're doing it for Javi too. You find yourself thinking about how sweet he was to you, how he took care of you...

You curl up in a corner of the shower, the water soaks you, streaks your cheeks, and with it hot tears begin to flow and fall down towards the shower tray. It almost feels like your heart is being ripped out, but maybe that's for the best. You couldn't bear the thought that for him you were just someone to have fun with during this time and then move on to another woman.

You dry yourself as best you can before wrapping yourself in a towel and looking at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are puffy, your features distorted, your hair a still damp and messy mess. You comb your hair, untangling any knots, you think about the words you want to say to Javier, you want to be direct and yet you don't want to hurt his feelings.

You are awakened from these thoughts by Javier knocking on the door, “Is everything okay?”

You take a deep breath, feeling even worse if possible. However, you convince yourself that you are right, even though this choice hurts.

“Yes, I’m comin’,” you answer.

You look at your reflection one last time before going to the door and opening it, Javi is there leaning against the door jamb still half naked. He was obviously about to tell you something, but seeing your eyes swollen from crying he stops and looks at you perplexed.

“What happened?” he asks you, not understanding what could have made you cry like that. “Hey,” he says cupping your cheeks, “what happ...?” he’s about to ask you, when you free yourself from his grip and you move away from him and approach the bed where you let yourself fall.

You feel his gaze on you, you wring your hands, feeling your heart in your throat. You don't know how say out loud the turmoil and the tightness that grips your stomach and heart. You feel terrible.

“Please, talk to me.” he tells you sitting next to you on the bed. You close your eyes and feel the dull beating of your heart, it hurts. It hurts so much. He's been so sweet these days, but you don't want to have to suffer one day because of him. You don't know if when all this is over he'll go back to his old self. You couldn't bear the thought of seeing him go with other women, hearing them murmur about how he made them come, no you can't.

“Whatever was here, in this place, has to end here,” you mutter, head down, unable to look him in the eye.

You are selfish, you must be alone. Those words...

Your heart pounds painfully in your chest, almost as if your own words had stabbed you and you were now bleeding. You can't look at his face, you just imagine his expression and imagine he's hurt and confused. You were together and yet now you're violently pushing him away. You would probably feel the same way: rejected as if you meant nothing to the other person.

The silence that surrounds you almost seems unreal, as if you were suspended in a dimension that doesn't even belong to you. Maybe you’d have preferred him to yell at you, to pull you, in short, a violent reaction, but not that deafening silence that, if possible, hurts you even more.

“I thought it would be best for both of us.” You continue, feeling almost like you're walking on a very thin sheet of ice and on which a slightly heavier pressure is enough to break and make you fall into its icy waters.

You finally hear him make a sound, almost a snort as if what you said bored him. You look at him, “And did you have to cry to tell me that?” he asks you in an annoyed tone, almost as if it were obvious what you told him.

His cold and detached reaction completely throws you off. So, in the end, you really mean nothing to him, you really are one of the many women on his endless list. If his words are as sharp as a sharp blade, his gaze and the expression on his face betray him.

“You expected me to tell you this, right?” he asks you in a tone of someone who already knows the answer and doesn't need confirmation because he knows it's true “Precisely,” he says when he looks up at your face again.

He chuckles getting out of bed and walking towards the nightstand where there is a pack of cigarettes, he takes one, brings it to his lips and lights it up. Another long silence falls between you as he approaches the balcony, opening the shutters and allowing the smoke to escape.

“So the days we spent together have done absolutely nothing to make you understand who I really am.” His is a statement, not a question. He probably wants to sound cold, but the bitterness in his voice gives him away.

“I didn't say that.” you try to say, making sense of the tangled mess of thoughts that are dulling your mind. You hate all this that you started.

“No need. You made your point” he replies, taking another drag on his cigarette turning his back to you.

You don't know what to say, you just know that your own words have backfired on you. Your stomach is in knots and your heart is beating painfully in your chest. You feel terrible making him feel this bad and doing this to you.

You get up and go over to him, not knowing what to say. You look up and notice his eyes are covered in tears, while he stares out the balcony and takes a drag on his cigarette. You see his Adam's apple bob and hear him breathing deeply as if he’s trying hard not to lose control of himself.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want anything to do with you,” you try to clarify, but it just makes things worse.

“You want us to be friends with benefits, after all.” he tells you spitefully, almost turning his head towards you. “But nothing else. Don't worry. Got it.” he tells you, taking another drag and then expel a large amount of smoke.

“Please don't be dramatic,” you tell him running a hand through your hair “We’ll still work together and we’ll always be coworkers.” you add, then pause, searching for the most appropriate words, but none of them seem right.

He tsks shaking his head, “Yes, whatever." He snorts, putting out his cigarette with an expression that is somewhere between anger and disappointment. "Can I just ask what made you change your mind? I mean, you didn’t seem sorry or remorseful after we did…” he sighs shaking his head “let’s forget it,” he tells you, looking up again and waiting for your response.

“I wasn't and I'm not now." You answer him looking him in the eyes and he looks back at you with an unreadable expression, “I just think it's better for both of us to ignore what happened,” you add with a shrug.

He nods, “So there is no danger of anyone thinking you have a heart. This way everyone will still think you’re a bitch,” he continues, but it’s more like he’s talking and reasoning out loud rather than talking to you.

Maybe he hits the nail on the head. Maybe you really prefer to be thought of as heartless. Maybe that way no one suffers. Except you.

You breathe loudly, not knowing exactly what to say. It's better if Javier hates you too, you won't hurt him if you push him away from you.

“I know who you are.” He tells you when you think he's decided not to talk to you anymore. “And you're wrong and you're only hurting yourself.” he sentences looking you in the eyes, you instead lower them as if struck by his words. Yes, he's right, you're going to suffer but you can't do otherwise.

Six months have passed since that evening. You have returned home, each to your own home and life. Fortunately, nothing has happened since the day you arrested El Diablo, you have not heard from him or his henchmen anymore. You have returned to work normally, you dedicate yourself more to seeking information and connections, you are less devoted to action. What you experienced in France has left its mark on you and for the moment has led you behind a desk.

For many, working behind a desk is bad, but not for you. Even better if you can help in this way too.

In these six months, five new colleagues have arrived, two are women and three are men. The two women, Andrea and Maxime, are more or less your age and both have their eyes on Javier, but neither of them has managed to attract his attention at the moment; the three men, Mark, Christian and Paul, are real gentlemen, at least from what you have been able to see. They are almost as stubborn as you and Javier, but if you tell them to do something, they do it without ever going beyond that. They never say or do anything more than they should and this newfound calm is definitely good for you. You really need it.

Your days are marked by a slow and regular rhythm, your actions and words are almost always the same. In this routine, you and Javier don't share a single moment except for the occasional brief, silent glance.

Part of you misses him. You even miss being teased or hearing him talk to you. On the other hand, you think it's a good thing that everything between you ended this way. No drama or tears, that's better.

It hurts you to know that behind that look there’s some form of regret. There’s also a great regret on your part in not having wanted to see if there could actually be something else between you.

You look up at him again, but he's already back to fiddling with some paperwork. You see his absorbed gaze and how he frowns when something doesn't convince him, you see him massage his chin and then light a cigarette.

For your own good, you decide to immerse yourself in the papers and not sit there mulling over your decisions or you risk going crazy. Your work takes up a lot of your time in typing into the computer two reports, one of which is the one you wrote by hand shortly after returning from France.

It's almost nine o'clock at night when you stretch your hands and get up with a small satisfied noise. You turn off the light on your desk, grab your jacket and go out.

You huddle in your jacket as you wait for the bus. The wind is particularly cold and biting today, you just hope you don't have to wait too long.

When you fear that no one will come, you hear a horn that almost makes you jump and then turn in that direction. It's Javier.

“Come on, jump up.” You look at him almost surprised. “I hope you don’t want to wait for that wreck that you don’t even know how long it’ll be until!” he adds, raising an eyebrow.

You zigzag your gaze from one corner of the half-deserted street to the other before opening the car door and getting in. The warmth of the passenger compartment immediately envelops you, making you relax against the backrest and moan with pleasure at this newfound warmth.

“What the fuck were you still doing there? Did you still have that report to finish?” he asks, giving you a quick glance before returning his focus to the road.

You nod, “Yes, I wanted to finish by tonight.”

“And did you succeed?” he asks you.

“Yes,” you reply, rubbing your hands together. “And what are you still doing here?” you ask, turning to face him.

“Andrea invited me for a drink.” You nod, feeling your heart skip a beat and finding yourself looking down, you shouldn’t have this reaction, you shouldn’t feel this way.

“I’m glad to hear that.” You say the last thing you should probably say, but you want to find a way to fill this strange silence.

"Yeah?" he asks you and from his tone you understand that he must be surprised too.

No, you are not.

“Sure.” you grumble, but look outside the car and watch the road pass by.

A strange, embarrassed silence follows, in which the sweetness and the weight of what happened between you comes back to light.

Neither you nor he say anything, you don't know what to say to him. You still feel embarrassed to be so close to him.

“Um, thanks anyway for... for the ride.” you find yourself adding, looking at him sideways as if afraid that your eyes might meet and you might say something that goes beyond the desired formality of your relationship.

“En cualquier momento! (anytime!)” he responds by driving slowly and confidently, almost as if he wants the journey to last much longer. Or maybe that's just how you interpret it.

Silence stretches between you again. You don’t know what to say to him. You were afraid something like this could happen.

“So, um.. what do you think of the new colleagues?” he asks you and you are surprised that he asks you for an opinion. But then you realize that it’s just a way to fill that numbing silence.

“Well, um.. the three boys are very friendly, cooperative and very prepared.” you answer, carefully choosing your words to describe them. You then turn to Javier and notice his perplexed look, “What?”

He shakes his head gently, he doesn't seem annoyed, but it's as if he's trying hard not to express his true thoughts. You see him purse his lips and then let out a small sigh.

“I'm not dating any of them,” you say even though you're not sure he really cares to know, but a part of you almost feels like you owe him this information.

His eyes are fixed on the road and he doesn't comment on your sentence, but you notice how his shoulders relax slightly and how the car is slowing down and then stops.

You barely notice that you are in front of your apartment building.

“Here we are.” he says pulling the handbrake almost straining to stare straight ahead.

“Here we are.” you repeat almost embarrassed and then turn your gaze towards him “So, um… thanks.”

He turns to you, stares into your eyes for a long time as if he wanted to say something else, but then gives up, lowers his gaze for a moment and then stares straight ahead again, “No problem.” he says simply “G’ night,” he adds.

You open the door, you're about to get out, but then you think better of it, you turn to him and he finally returns your gaze again, "Do you want to tell me something?"

You swallow as you feel like thousands of words are competing to be shouted and heard, but then you find yourself choking them all down, “No.” You reply, “And you?”

He takes a deep breath, but it sounds more like a sigh, “No.”

You nod, “See you tomorrow.” He nods, as you get out of the car and grab your keys to enter your building. As you close the door, you hear Javi’s car drive away.

Your heart pounds in your chest and for a moment, a long moment, you wonder what it would have been like if you hadn't said those words to him in your room, you linger on that fantasy for a while, regretting it soon after, only to tell yourself that you shouldn't think about it anymore, but not doing so will be really hard. When you are together the air inevitably charges with an electricity that passes through you and connects you in a way that pushing it away almost hurts.

You've been lying in bed for almost an hour, but all you do is stare at the ceiling. Javier and his gaze, Javier and his words are right there in front of you.

When you are about to fall asleep, your stepfather's words reverberate in your head with such force that you almost jump out of bed. You haven't thought about him in a while, but when you do, a feeling of remorse, guilt, and even shame wells up inside you. You weren't guilty, but your stepfather did everything he could to make you feel that way.

You remember that day all too well. It was a summer day, you wanted to swim at all costs, but the sea was very rough. You and your brother were two kids, you certainly didn't have the same perception of danger that your parents had.

You were a lively little thing, always smiling, reckless. Your brother was your exact opposite, shy, fearful, too cautious, a bit sulky. Your brother didn't have the same father as you, but you always felt like a brother to you. You loved each other very much. You would have done anything for each other, even doing something crazy just to not leave the other alone and so on that crucial day.

He followed you despite not being a great swimmer, a series of waves, one stronger than the other, knocked you down. You survived, he didn't.

When you came to and were informed of the tragedy, you cried, you sobbed his name and it was then that your stepfather thundered “It’s useless for you to cry now, you are a disaster, a catastrophe. Everyone around you dies, you were supposed to die. You don't deserve anyone's love because you pay back like this.”

Timid tears stream down your cheeks at the memory of those terrible words, you were a child then, but those words have dug so deep inside you that since then you have shied away from relationships with anyone. Even if it hurts to be alone, maybe it's better that way. You can't really hurt anyone. Except yourself.

[intoanotherworld23]

In The Middle

Summary: Javier decides to let Steve join in

Warnings: explicit sexual content, fingering, oral female receiving, voyeurism, dom Javier, slightly dom Steve, submissive reader, praise kink, dirty talk, implied threesome

A/N: haven’t written for Javier in what seems like ages so here is for all my Javier Pena girls! Reblogs and comments are always encouraged and appreciated to help support your fellow writers! My tag list for Pedro is always open so feel free to join! Thanks everyone so much! XOXO

Hall of Hunks

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24 @trisaratops-mcgee @subconsciouscollapse @hooked-on-penapascal27 @red-red-rogue @fellinfromthetop @drewharrisonwriter @vickie5446

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Feeling completely lost and overwhelmed as hands gripped the sheets beneath you. Knees bent with your legs spread wide open muscles burning from the stretch. Javier and Steve looking up at your disheveled face. A panting and sweaty mess.

"That's it cariño, that's such a good girl for us." Soft praises echoing in your ear as Javier sinks three fingers inside of you while Steve kisses your legs.

Steve’s jeans were starting to become tighter as he watched you unfold because of them. Wanting to pull himself out and slip his cock between those lips. The mere visual had a shiver running up his spine.

"Can you feel his fingers inside that tight cunt?" Steve speaks up as he kisses your hips a mocking tone in his voice. Twisting your face in the most innocent way making both men snicker. Javier curving his fingers up making you gasp as Steve keeps a firm grip on you to keep your body still. Trailing sweet and lingering little kisses along your neck and collarbone.

"Poor baby can't speak." His voice barely above a whisper like he just wanted you to hear him. Javier exchanging glances between you two as he thrusted his fingers harder so he was currently knuckle deep inside of you.

"Can you speak? Can you do that for us baby?" Javier wanted to hear your sweet voice and knew you were struggling right now.

Giving them both a nod in reassurance to let them know you were alright. Soft lips kissing your cheeks as you reached to grab each man. Fisting Steve’s shirt sure to leave crinkles. The other hand tugging on Javier’s hair as the palm of his hand brushed against your clit.

"Javi I want your tongue." Whining pathetically  Javier smirking up at you while Steve started pinching your nipples into nubs.

"Of course, anything for my pretty girl." Swiftly removing his fingers feeling incredible empty at the sudden loss whimpering that it hurt and you needed to feel him.

His hot mouth attaching to your puffy and still wet cunt. Hands reaching out to grip onto his hair as his tongue flicked back and forth on your clit. Back arching off the bed as he slurped away, hands gripping your inner knees as he kept them pushed apart so he had full and complete access to you. Body feeling like it was on fire as he thrusted his thick tongue inside of you. Rotating your hips around to feel more as his nose brushed against your clit.

"There you go sweetheart." Steve chuckles in your ear as you fully let yourself go. "It's okay, I got you."

And you know that he does. Javier trusted Steve with his life and that he would do anything to keep you safe, and made sure you were well taken care of. Javier had always fantasized how you would act with Steve so close and intimate. Thankful now that he approached his fellow detective with the idea who was quick to agree.

Javier was putting in quick work right now. He wanted it so badly he was desperate to have you cumming on his tongue. Typically he liked to take his time, and edge you until you were a mess. But today, he wanted your orgasm.

"I know you're so close." A loud moan slipping out of your mouth echoing around the room. Writhing between the two men as Steve reaches a hand down to rub circles on your clit as Javier thrusts his thick tongue in your sensitive cunt.

The closer you get the more your legs start to tremble and shake, and the more intense Javier eats your cunt out like a starving animal. The two men look to each other with determination on their faces. You can feel yourself starting to slip.

"Oh fuck." Crying out as your orgasm was already swiftly approaching. Javier looking up at your remarkable expression unable to look anywhere else. Loving that he was the one in control feeling like he held all the power in your pleasure, and that Steve was here to witness it.

Your senses heightened and overwhelmed not knowing how much longer you were gonna be able to last. Javier could tell that you were fighting to keep going, and he knew what would help you reach the finish line. Steve really felt honored that he was here to be a part of this even though he would have loved to feel you around him.

"That's it cariño, let go for us."  A low voice sends you over the edge as your body starts to crumble. Your ribcage rising and falling with each quick breath. Hands falling down to your side feeling loose and numb. Stomach trembling from the spectacular orgasm you just experienced. But for some reason though it still wasn't enough.

Feeling a pair of lips kissing your thigh and another kissing your neck. Javier’s touch was always so gentle as he helped ease you through the orgasm. Both men taking in your sweaty and messy look like you were a work of art. A tear running down your cheek only to have Steve wipe it away.

"Still need more don't you cariño?" Javier looking between your legs to see how drenched you still were you cunt clenching around air only further confirming what he knew.

"Yes Javi please it hurts." Whimpering as you started to grind your hips against the bed pressing your thighs together to help ease the pressure you felt.

"Then let's give her more Steve."

[mrsjavierpena]

not (un)expected | part 1

javier peña x f!secretary!reader

summary: Javier has one, only one very strict policy: to not ever fuck a co-worker; specially if that co-worker is his own secretary. but you make it such a hard promise to keep

chapter warnings: narcos' spoilers, smut, grinding, unprotected p in v, kind of exhibitionism, (light?) angst, a lot of cursing (its javier pena), kinda slow burn/slow start, unspecified age gap, work dynamics, reader has no name/descripition (but has hair long enough to pull), no use of 'y/n'

IMPORTANT: English is not my first language, i've done my best with grammar but there will be mistakes (fuck prepositions i hate them), so pls overlook those

wordcount: 7k

an: this is part one of a two part story; feel free to reblog and leave your comment. im so happy with the reception of this fic, its my first time posting something here, thank you guys so much for the support - also, if you want to be tagged in part two (really don't know when is coming out) just lmk in the comments.

hope you enjoy!

Javier was known for being an asshole.

Everyone in the office called him that; not to his face, of course, since he was the boss, but he knew, and honestly? He kind of did it on purpose. Being sent back to Colombia to be the CIA puppy didn't in fact thrilled him, but he also wasn't there to make friends. A little bit later than one month into his new position and Javier had already changed secretaries twice. Just by being himself.

The first one was a kind old lady that liked to talk a little bit too much for Javi's taste - which was none. To be fair, he tried to handle her. He listened to her talking of her yougest child finishing college, but she asked him if maybe he could get him a job at the deparment - what in the actual fuck? -, she felt the need to tell him that her older one and his wife were trying to have a baby - he wondered what gave her the impression he wanted to know that her son was fucking someone raw. She just wouldn't shut up. She left not much after a month, at his first snap - took him too long, to be honest.

The last one was a young man fresh out of the academy, who thanked him for the opportunity every time he saw him - which, since he was just outside his office, was pretty often. Despite how thankful he was for the job, he wasn't very interested in working, at least not as he was to flirting with another secretary in the floor below. But that wasn't the worst part, the kid had no idea what he was supposed to do and would go ask Javier for help for every task given to him - he swore he was shaking everytime. Javi didn't care that he was young and was learning, he didn't receive enough to raise a child at work. Didn't last a week.

Javier had headaches just by the thought of who would be sent next. With his current luck, it could be his ex-fiancée. He definitely didn't expect you knocking on his office door and introducing yourself as his new secretary. He was speechless for a moment; you were the combo of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life with a killing black pencil skirt, so tight it showed all your curves. You gave him a firm handshake and asked if he needed anything from you, and, when he denied, that was it. You went to your desk; didn't ask him questions, didn't tell him your whole life, didn't thank him for an opportunity he didn't give you, just went to do your work.

For a while, Javier was glad that you didn't give him any trouble, but that was until you quickly learned his habits. As soon as he arrived the office, you would receive him with a polite smile, a cup of black coffee and his schedule for the day. When he dove into files and forgot he was a person, you would bring him his lunch and wouldn't leave until he had at least a bite - as if he was a kid, what an absurd -, you would sense when he was stressed and would excuse yourself into his office with coffee and a pack of cigarettes and leave without saying a word.

He hated how much he appreciated that - even worse, how he liked that. It didn't take long for him to want to fuck you, to become obssessed with you. And it wasn't just him, he could see every other men in the department - single or not - turn their neck as they watched you pass by. But it was not just that you were hot, you were nice too; he would watch you from his office - not in a creepy way, though, he just didn't have anything much better to do - and you would distribute smiles and polite greetings to every soul that passed your desk, people would constantly stop by to small talk with you and you would let them be for five minutes or so before politely dismiss them to go back to work. Every fucking body there adored you.

Things had always been very professional between you both. Javi held back his flirty instinct and you- well, you didn't even seem interested in him at all. That was untill a very stressfull friday with Stechner giving him shit again. He left the building straigh to the bar, ready to drown himself on whiskey and find a quick fuck for the night, not expecting at all to find you aparently doing the same. Javier considered just ignoring you and go sitting with one of the women that turned their heads in his direction as soon as he entered, but something inside of him made him take the few steps to the bar and get the stool beside where you sat.

You almost spilled your drink when he approached.

"Sorry" you coughed "Wasn't expecting to see you here"

Your body language told him that you weren't comfortable with him there, he saw your backs getting as straight as when you were at work, and immediately regretted joining you.

"Well, that makes it two of us" he raised his hand to order his drink "What's the occasion?" he points to your drink with his chin.

Your grip on your glass seemed to tighten and you took one very long sip before answering dryly "I could ask you the same"

"Work" he raised his brows "It's always work"

"Did something happen after I left?" you pinched your brows.

"No, no, just people giving me shit"

"Oh, I see..." you sighed and silence fell between you.

"So..."

"Well..." you both started talking together and laughed akwardly.

"You go" you said.

"Am I bothering you? Cause I didn't mean to, I can sit somewhere else" he didn't even know why he was asking, he should've just said goodbye and left. He was already standing when your hand found his arm.

You sighed heavily "No, not at all, I'm sorry I gave that impression, sir" you seemed genuine, that's why he sat back "I'm just stressed"

Sir. Why were you calling him sir in a bar?

"Do you want to talk about it? If there's something bothering you we can discuss it and sol-"

"It's not work related" you were quick to interrupt "Work is, honestly, the simplest part of my life right now"

"Things must be pretty bad then, 'cause I see the amount of papers on your desk everyday" that made you chucke "The offer still stands, if you want to"

You took a big breath before dropping the bomb "Broke up with my boyfriend"

Now that was a new territory. He knew absolutly nothing about your life besides you moving to Colombia from the United States; he didn't know anything from your life back there, not your family, friends, definitely not about your boyfriend; and now, somehow, knowing you didn't have one anymore made it even harder for him not to want you.

"What happened?"

"Well, actually, it seems like we had already broken up a while ago and he just forgot to send the memo" you drank your whole half glass all at once ", since he was fucking every pussy that crossed his fucking way"

He was stunned. One thing about Javier was that he was never to deny any woman; honestly, he found every body attractive and apreciatted every woman that gave herself to him. He couldn't say he had a type, but you, with what he saw with your clothes on? He would fuck you every minute of everyday he could. It was absurd to believe someone would give up on you.

"Damn!" he couldn't help but say loudly, making your eyes go wide as if just then realising what you had just said.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be telling you this. I apologise, sir"

"You don't- don't apologise" he almost raised his hand to touch you, but stopped himself before "How did you find out?" you looked at him with raised brows "If you don't mind me asking"

"One of my friends called me last night and told me. She saw him at a bar with two women" you laughed, but there was no humor to be found.

"And you were still smiling at everyone at work today" he was impressed.

You smirked at him "Don't let my personal life mix with work, sir"

"Smart woman" he nods "We for sure have a reason to drink, then" waving his hand to the barman "Let me buy you one"

You don't even bother to refuse.

After three more glasses of what he found out was tequila, your shoulders were much more relaxed and so was your tongue. He found out that you and your ex had been dating for six years when you got the opportunity of job and had to move; two months had passed already.

"And you know what the worst part is?" your laugh is dry "I don't even feel bad because my heart is broken or any shit like that, it's just that is so fucking humiliating" you groaned with your hands on your face "I'm from a small town, you know, by now every soul there knows what he's been doing"

He had to laugh "That's what you're worried about?" you looked at him with false ofense.

"It's my honor we're talking about here!" he laughed even more "It's silly, I know..." you sigh shakly as you take another sip of your drink "But it is humbiling, being cheated on"

"I can't fucking believe anyone could ever cheat on you" he thought. At least he thought he did, but by the way you were looking at him - pinched brows and a curious look in your face, he had to have said it out loud "I mean, only shitty people cheat on nice people. Only shitty people cheat, that's it."

You nodded after a few seconds of silence "You're right, sir"

"You should stop calling me sir"

"I don't think so"

"Why not? We're already half drunk together at a shitty bar"

"Because you're still my boss"

Without any response to that, he looks at you. Really looks at you. Your eyes glassy from the alcohol, red puffy lips looking more appealing than ever... It would have been so easy to just lean in and kiss you. When his eyes came back to yours, it almost seemed like they were on his lips too, that you were leaning in too, that you desired him as much as he desired you and... Then it was not there anymore. Suddenly, you seemed farther than ever, backs as streight as always and eyes avoiding his.

"I should go home"

He agreed. He put you on a cab. He wished you a goodnight.

Then went back to the bar to find someone to not spend the night alone.

The next Monday, though, you seemed even more professional than ever. Wouldn't be around him more than the necessary, wouldn't look him in the eyes and it fucking bothered him.

"Yes, sir?" you entered his office after he called your name.

He sighs as he looked you up and down, his eyes lingering to your skirt pressing against your tights "How are you?"

"I'm fine" you hesitated "Why do you ask? Is something wrong?"

"Lying to me, 's all" your eyes went wide "Listen, last night-"

Your nostrils flared, your hands clenching into fists; you took a deep breath before interrupting him "I am fine"

"Ok, then" he raised his hands in defensiveness "It's just that last night-"

"Last night I was drunk!" you passed your hands through your face "I said things I shouldn't have and I am embarressed and would very much appreciate if we pretended that it never happened"

Javier was silent for a moment. He understandood your apprehension, but damn if he wasn't dismayed by it.

"Alright, 'm sorry I brought it up. But just to let you know, you don't have anything to be embarressed for, you have my word that I wouldn't hold any if that against you and..." and it was nice to talk to you "Yeah, don't worry about that"

You looked at him for a few seconds before nodding "You need anything else, sir?"

Many things, yeah. For starters, you calling him by his name; second, being able to have a casual conversation with you when alcohol isn't envolved and third, your fucking clothes off because he got embarrassingly hard just by looking at you. But instead, he only denied and you left before any other word could leave his mouth.

Javi knew it was for the best. Fucking you would be no good - well, he'd bet it would be hot as shit, but too much trouble for a one night stand. He had a whole city to fool around with, to be focused in someone from his work place, his own secretary, was nonsense. You never even gave him any hint you wanted him, if anything, the actual opposite; you told him yourself last night, personal life away from work.

Javi made sure to remember all that.

➫

He didn't keep those thoughts for long, though.

A few days later, you met at a bar once again. A better one this time and with half of the office joined. It was Feistl's birthday and he invited the whole department for drinks. Nobody could hide their surprise when Javi aproached them; usually, he wouldn't attend this type of gathering, in his rarely free times, he better prefered the company of a good whiskey and a woman, and his colleagues knew that. His employee had invited him just to be polite and that was clear, but he knew you were going to be there, Javi just wanted one more opportunity to prove to himself that you didn't feel the same way he did, that he didn't have the same effect on you that you had on him. Once that prooved, he could move on. So he was there on a mission, trying to be the most discrete he could as he watched you from afar.

The two of you seemed to be the reflexion of each other from across the table, tense bodies and drinks in hand, the only difference being you talking with your colleagues and him not making the effort. To his defense, people weren't trying to talk to him either. Honestly, Javier kind of felt like it wasn't just that they were surprised to see him there, it felt like they didn't want him there at all by some looks he was receiving.

He was okay with that, he guessed, he would much rather analyse your behavior outside work. You didn't seem to change much, honestly; maybe your smile were a little bit more genuine, but the conversations were pretty much the same he heard you have back in the office and it could have been the larger amount of alcohol in your system that night, yeah, but you seemed more relaxed alone with him.

After half an hour there, Javi couldn't bring himself to talk to you, you seemed too interested in a conversation about the new coffee pot in the scullery with another secretary. He was getting frustrated, in another times he would interrupt the other woman and flirt with you effortlessly; it probably had to do with the environment, you were surronded by co-workers, or maybe he was losing his touch - it was almost like he was too afraid to make the move.

Javi decided to leave soon after one hour there. He congratulated Feistl for his birthday, said goodbye to whoever recognized his leaving, paid his bill and passed through the door.

"Hey" he turned around at the sound of your voice, seeing you walking towards him "Are you ok?"

He ran his hand over his chin "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know" you shrugged "you kind of ran out of the bar"

"'S fine, you should go back inside" Javi pointed at the entrace with his chin.

You tilt your head to the side "I don't really believe you"

"I'm not asking you to" he crossed his arms "And, what, you wanna talk now? You've been quiet at work all week"

"We're not at work, though, are we?" you were quick to answer.

Javi looked you up and down "No, we're not"

"You know" you took a few steps forward ", it's not like they don't like you, they are just kind of scared of you"

Were you watching him too? Why would you say that? How would you notice?

He furrowed his eyebrows "Scared of me? Why?"

You looked at him with yours raised "You know how you act at work, don't you?"

Javi sighed and looked away. He did act like an asshole at work, it didn't seem to bother you, though. Your gazes met again as silence fell between the two of you and he decided to take the few steps left to get you as close as you never got before.

"Are you scared of me?"

You kept your eyes locked as you answered "No. You're not as bad as you think you are" you licked your lips "At least not with me"

The air thickend between the two of you, the only sound being the noises of a night in Colombia. There was no way you were not feeling that too, the way your bodies seemed to linger to each other's direction. He's sure he's not imagining the way your breath heaved, how your chest expansed, the brightness in your eyes.

No, that was real, he was not mistaking it.

A voice broke the tension, you taking a few steps back to a safe distant from him. You both looked in the direction of the sound: a woman was calling you, the same woman you talked all night, at the entrance of the bar, a few feet away from where the both of you stood.

"Maybe if you went back there and paid the next round..." he swore he saw expectancy in your eyes.

"Maybe another time" you nodded; you both knew it wouldn't happen.

You looked at him one last time before walking away "Good night, sir"

Javi nodded even though you weren't looking anymore and his eyes followed the sweet swing of your hips as you made your way back to the bar. He could hear the woman asking what it was about:

"Nothing" you answered.

He would disagree.

➫

Javier was in a terrible, terrible mood. Things weren't going how he thought they would go, not even close to it. Feistl got a good lead about the Rodriguez brothers, one worth following, and he could do nothing about it; had to look to his subordinate and say no to his face. In the beggining, Javi had plans on reediming himself by catching Los Pepes, making amends with the city and it's people by arresting those who he felt like helped to ascend. He felt like a failure, and by the look on Feistl face, he thought so too. To worsen everything, as if it could get any, he had a huge, massive amount of piles to go through.

He lifted his eyes from the paper for the first time in hours when you knocked at the door. He knew your shift had ended a couple of hours ago, but you decided to finish the paperwork of the day so it wouldn't affect his own work the next morning, even though you couldn't have finished it on time because of the extra work put over you. It was something he frequently saw you doing, leaving much later than the others.

"I am leaving, sir. Is there something I could do for you?"

He scratched his chin and sighed heavily "Well, if you could make this fucking paperwork disappear I would built a statue of you"

You exiled a short laugh "I'm afraid that's not possible, sir"

"No, it's not" he reclined on his chair and looked at your body on the frame for a few seconds "Have a goodnight"

You nodded and left. He stood up to get a drink right after, hearing some noises outside that must have been you grabing your stuff. You were probably the last person on the floor besides him, and soon enough he would be alone, like he had been for so many nights, working until late, only able to go home to shower and come back. It wasn't much trouble, though, it's not like he could sleep even if he had the time.

A soft knock on the door surprised him, glass and bottle on each hand.

"Sorry to bother again" you said with only your head in the room after he told you to come in "But do you want help?"

He looked at you, at the pile and then at you again "You wanna help me with that?" you nodded "Why?"

"Nothing better to do" you shruged.

He should've said no. Should've told you to go home and have some rest.

He should have, yes.

"Have a sit" he pointed to the couch with the piles of papers he's been on for the last three hours.

You closed the door behind you and something on his skin tingled. You had never been this alone.

"Want a drink?" you didn't hesitate in accepting, as if waiting for him to offer.

Javier poured you one too and handed you the glass, something you thanked him for as you took a sip and he sitted beside you. You two stayed in silence reading, the only sound being the papers as you tossed them around.

"Can I give you an unasked opinion, sir?"

He almost laughed at that "Go ahead"

"You're separating these by topics, I see" he nodded "Taking one paper at the time and seeing what they are and then doing them separetly " he nodded again "I think it would be quicker if we made piles by the specific topics you have"

"You mean..."

"I mean" suddenly you stood up from the couch and knelt on the floor. Fortunally you didn't see his eyes going wide as you took a pile in your hands and put it beside you "You have a huge office, you should put the files on display and organize them better" you looked at him while taking the other piles "You helping?"

He smirked and hushed to help you. He liked this side of you; more relaxed, kind of bossy, tongue more loose... It was a shame you only showed him when there was alcohol running through your system.

"This, if you don't mind me saying, is how I organize the piles on your desk when I bring them to you, but you seem to prefer the hardest way"

Fuck, he was getting hard.

It was nuts. Absolutly nuts. What the fuck was happening, what effect was that you had on him? You did nothing but say a few dirty words without intention. Completely. Nuts.

"I do prefer the hard way" came out of his mouth before he could control it. If you didn't notice the double meaning or chose to ignore it, he didn't know "But I never noticed, no" he sighed "Honestly, I don't even know how it got to this point"

The paperwork, somehow, did accumulate, even though all he did of his life was working.

"I understand, I can see how you get lost in work" your focus was on the papers and you didn't seem to notice how he shifted on his place on the floor, trying to hide the beggining of an erection.

With your efficiency and new way of working, one hour and a half later and almost the whole paperwork gone, you're on your third glass and him on his fourth. He's used to drinking whiskey, but it was still alcohol, and it was making his skin buzz. You had already took off your blazer - his own gone hours ago - , wearing a thin blouse with a very modest neckline; your legs were crossed, making your skirt move up a little, and he was going crazy with just the tiny amount of skin you were showing.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead" you didn't even move your eyes from the paper.

"Why didn't you go home?"

You don't talk for a few seconds and he took the opportunity to stare "There's nothing waiting for me at home"

That got him thinking about your moving there. To go from a small town in the countryside to a city like Bogotá, not knowing a soul; you had acquaintances, yes, but he saw you that day at the bar, they surely were people you liked to be with, but were not friends of yours. Javi had been there, too, actually, if he would be honest with himself, he was still in the same situation. When he moved to Medellín, he had those people he could go out with and grab a drink after work, but that was all; at least until Steve came into the picture, the person he never thought he would befriend with, the only real friend he'd had in years.

"Yeah, I kind of get that" your eyes meet "Work until late for a reason"

"I guess we both need to get a life, then" you smirked.

"Cheers to that" he raised his glass to you, you did the same until it clicked with his "So, life... How is yours going?" he tried to act nonchalant by moving his eyes on the paper in his hand "With that ex-boyfriend thing and all"

Your laugh was low "Don't do that"

"Do what?" he raised his eyes again to find yours still on him.

You tilted your head to the side "Don't go down that road when we're like this"

"Like what?" he caught the exact moment your eyes fell to his lips, so he casually wet them with his tongue. If he wasn't so absorbed by the thickness in the air, he would have laughed at the way your eyes shut and your head fell back to rest on the couch.

"Drunk and... Not thinking straight"

Javi raised his eyebrows "I like the winding thoughts I'm having, though"

"Yeah" the look you gave him made him shiver.

Without breaking eye contact, Javi belted down his drink to gain courage and slowly moved his body until you were pressed side by side, giving you time to get your space again if you wanted to.

"This fine?" his voice was barely louder than a whisper.

You nodded.

"What if I wanted to kiss you right now?" he rested one forearm on the couch to lean his face closer to yours.

You gulped as you stared into his eyes "Then I think you should do it before we-"

He didn't give you the time to finish your sentence before his lips were on yours. Your lips were soft, he could taste the whiskey on your tongue as well with the gums you would chew all day. His right hand went straight to your jawline to lead the kiss. It was not a lulled kiss, neither a gentle one, Javier was ruthless, taking out on your lips all the built up tension from the last few months. He couldn't believe it was finally happening. You were quick to follow his pace, your fingers grasping his shirt and pulling him even closer. The first moan you let out get Javi even more eagered, his hand passing down your body to grab your ass. You took advantage of his action and, before he knew, you were climbing up his lap, knees on each side of his torso, and once you were fully sitted on his lap, you both couldn't contain a moan. At that point, your skirt barely covered half your ass; because of that, he figured that you wouldn't mind his hands slowly rubbing up your tights until they reached the fabric and rolled it up your waist.

Javi parted your mouths to take a good look at you on his lap, his eyes wandered from your heavy eyelids, your lips puffy and red from the kisses, your blouse-covered chest raising and falling as fast as his until they got to the black thong you were wearing and he couldn't help but moan "Oh, fuck me"

"You like them?" your mouth came down his neck to give him wet kisses.

"How wouldn't I?" he held you by the nape of the neck and brought your mouths together again "I've wanted this for so long"

You released some kind of laughter "I know"

"Oh, do you?" he raised his brows.

"You're not exactly subtle for an agent" you murmured between kisses.

He snorts "Well, thanks for the insight"

Javi couldn't resist the urge to touch you through the tiny piece of fabric and you moaned at the pressure at your clitoris, but he moaned too at the wetness he found.

Javi didn't ask you how long you had wanted him, you were grinding on his lap at that moment and that was all that mattered. But he wished you had said it, that you had desired him as much as he had desired you, that all this time he had been imagining this moment, you were imagining it too.

"Fuck baby, you are so wet already" his tongue licked a stripe on your neck "All this for me?"

You answer was muffled by a moan; it seemed positive, but before he could confirm you were linking your mouths again in a searing kiss.

You started moving your hips on his erection and you both moaned at the pressure. Suddenly, his torso is being pushed down to the ground, chests pressed against each other, your fingers tangled his hair and pushed and he fucking whimpered.

Jesus Christ, he was in heaven and was not even inside of you yet.

You grinded furiously against him and he found it absolutly beautiful how you were using him to pleasure yourself and was not embarressed to do so. So. Fucking. Hot.

He felt like he was coming in any second.

"Fuck, you keep doing that and will have me cumming on my fucking pants, bebita"

"Oh, say it again!"

"What? That I'm within seconds to cumming?"

You moaned loudly at that "No- I mean, that too, that's hot, but- oh fuck"

"Bebita?" he felt you shiver at the pet name and chuckled "You like that, huh?"

You grabbed the nape of his neck and lowered your head to crush your lips to his again, tongues fighting heatedly. Javi started to feel that heat boiling at the bottom of his stomach, his hips grinded against yours and the pressure were just perfect; by the sounds you were making, you were as close as he was. Javi reached for you ass and grabbed it with both of his hands and squeezed, adding even more pressure to the grindness. At last, he sucked the pulse in your neck and you started to shake above him; that combined with the sweet noises that came out of you, he was gone.

You collapse on top of him, fingers unconsciously running through his hair; his members were sore and he was so tired and satisfied that he could sleep right there. The both fo you took deep breaths while your head rested on the gap of his neck and his on the floor.

"I can't remember the last time I did this" he was the first to break the silence.

"I actually do this everyday to my pillow" you mumbered humurously and he moaned.

"Shit, you're gonna be the death of me" his hand ran up and down from your ass to your backs, loving the feeling of your curves.

You raised your head to find his eyes and the moment was gone. You both realizing what you just had done, the before contentedness in him that was mirrowed in your eyes then turning into panic.

"Shit" you clumsly stood up. You put your skirt down as quickly as you could.

"It's getting late" it was already late when you came to his office "I should go" you should stay, he wanted to say.

But instead he only nodded. He knew it was for the best. He shouldn't have let it come this far.

You quickly get your stuff and wishes him a goodnight. His eyes don't leave you until you pass through the door, yours, though, don't meet him once.

He stayed there on the floor, cum staining his pants, and even though he was fully clothed, the room had never felt colder.

➫

The next day was pure craziness. After you left his office, Javi went home, took a shower and lied in bed thinking of what had just happened between the two of you and what would happen from then on until he had to come back to work. Before he could even get to his office, you intercepted him with a cup of coffee and the news of a surprise and excruciating slow meeting with the ambassador, which led to another one with the CIA and then the atrocious combination of them both together. By the time Javi was freed from hell, everybody else were already leaving; due to your situation, he thaught that would be your case too, so he was surprised to see you still on your desk.

"I was waiting to see if you would need something else from me before I left" was your answer to the question on his face.

"I think I'm heading home too, actually" after a day like that, he felt like maybe he could even get some sleep.

He had work to do, yeah, and usually it didn't matter to him if his mind wasnt in the right place - it rarely was anyways -, but he knew nothing productive would result from working in that state. Javi also wanted to talk to you; he had so many thing in his mind, what he thought about during that whole previous night: he wanted you. So bad he didn't even know how to express it, so much he let himself cum in his pants just to get the little you were wailing to give to him. And he was concerned about what your reaction to that would be, because it was obvious that you wanted him too, but your actions showed him that you didn't want to want him. All those thoughts were consuming him, but it would have to wait for another day, he didn't think that was the right time, not at work. Maybe he could invite you for drinks and talk things through or-

"I was wondering if we could talk, too" you interrupt his thoughts "About yesterday"

If Javi wasn't a trained professional, he probably would've had his mouth opened in absolut shock. It was like you read his mind.

"Of course" you both looked around the department, the couple people remaining already preparing to leave. Still, he opened his office door and nodded for you to come in.

You were flustered, nervous even. Javi didn't know what to expect from that talk, he wished you would cave in to your needs and fuck him already, but he felt like you wouldn't be easy on him. Honestly, he couldn't read you.

The both of you stood akwardly in the middle of the room, door closed behind you. He waited patiantly for you to start talking, for you to take the lead of the conversation.

"So" you sighed "I wanted to apologise"

His face contorted in a deep frown "What for? You have nothing to apologise"

"I do, yes" you shook your head "It was completely irresponsible and unprofessional and we shouldn't have done that"

If you said you were embarressed last time, about the things you had said on the bar, Javi didn't know what you could possibly be feeling at that moment: your face was getting red, your eyes wouldn't meet his, your hands squeezed each other in your front; he kind of felt bad he was the cause of your discomfort.

"You didn't do anything by yourself"

"I jumped on you like a crazy-ass-horny woman!" over your shoulder, you look outside to see if there was anyone to witness your voice raising; there wasn't.

Javi could barely contain the smirk forcing itself upon his mouth at the memory of you riding him in that very same floor, just a few steps from where you stood. He really couldn't contain the beggining of an erection, though.

"And I loved that" you looked at him as if he was crazy for saying it "I did!" he took a few steps in your direction "And honestly, if anyone should be blamed it's me, I'm the boss, aren't I? The authority in the room or some shit like that"

The way you look at him said that you agreed, that he should be blamed too, should've had more self control, but you didn't say it and that made him smile, the way you still tried to keep your composure at work.

You sighed "Still, it wasn't right and I'm sorry"

"I'm not" he took another step towards you.

"It's not the point, sir"

"I don't think you are that sorry either" your brows raised in surprise "And fucking quit calling me 'sir' now, there's just us in here" another step.

"I'm just-" you shrugged "I'm trying to be professional, that's all"

"Baby we're a little too late for that now"

"Jesus Christ" you pinched the bridge of your nose, he could feel the frustration exhaling from you "You don't like to make things easy, do you?"

"What's the fun in that?" the joke landed flat "I have a proposal"

That got your attention "I don't think I like where this is going"

"Well, that's the thing" he took one more step "I think you do. You fucking grinded on me on this floor until we both came. You want me. What are you so afraid of?"

"You're my fucking boss!" your exasperation made him want to laugh and scream out of frustration at the same time "I like this job, I want to keep it"

"I would never put your job in risk"

"You can't be sure" it was true, Javi barely had a say in anything, but he would do anything in his power for you not to lose your job, especially because of him "And even if this" you pointed between the two of you "didn't make me lose it, it would be living hell if people found out"

"I can be discreet"

You crossed your arms "You're not taking me seriously"

"I am, I promise that I am" he really was "I just- You gave me a taste of what it would look like and now I'm starving for more" he scratched his chin, a little embarressed he let that slip out "I would do anything to have you for one night, we don't have to take work to the bedroom"

"Oh" you snorted "there's a bedroom in the scene now?"

"What?" he raised his brows "You thought I was fucking you in my office?" you went silent "You fucking did"

Javi is no romantic man, he thought about fucking you in every place possible, in the bathroom there, against the nearest wall, but when truly thinking about taking you, it would always be in a bedroom, somewhere you both would be able to take your time.

"Do you fantasize about it?" a step closer "Do you touch yourself thinking about me?" your eyes wouldn't meet his, so he carefully took your chin and angled your head until they did "Where?"

You gulped "Where what?"

"Where did you imagine?" his voice was barely above a whisper.

"Your desk"

"Fucking dirty woman" he smirked "I'm gonna fuck you on my desk, bebita" he took you by the waist, colliding your body to his "And on my couch" his nose traveled from your cheek to your neck "On the fucking window so eveyone can see how pretty you will look with my cock deep inside of you"

"Shit" your voice broke, breathless.

"Do you want it? Huh? To be full of my cock?" you nodded "I want words"

"Yes" you puffed.

"Yes what?"

You looked at him with a defiant look "Yes, sir"

He had to laugh "You are the worst"

His lips collided with yours with so much fierceness he was surprised they didn't start bleeding. His hands were all over your body, your breasts, your back, your ass. You pulled his hair with both hands and he moaned. Javi wanted you so bad it hurt. He decided to be bold and lifted you skirt to your waist, then placed you sitted on the edge of his desk, each of your legs on each side of his hips, pushing everything that was on your way to the floor, paying no attention to anything that wasn't you.

"I hate how you kiss me" you mumbled frustrated between kisses and he pinched his brows.

"You have a very distinct way to hate things"

"You just do it so well" your hands covered his cheeks "Makes me want to do this everyday"

Javi couldn't help but to smirk "I don't see why we can't"

"Yes, you do"

"All I see is a gorgeous woman with tasteful lips" he reached your covered mound and passed a finger through your folds, making you moan loudly ", wet lips" he smirked "telling me she wants to kiss me foverer"

You snorted "I didn't say that"

"That's what I heard"

"You are so cocky" you rolled your eyes.

"Damn right I am" Javi pressed his erection to your thigh.

"Yeah, I felt it yesterday" your hands went to unbuckle his belt, quickly reaching for his cock through his underwear and pumping him a couple of times "You're big, sir"

Javi moaned and threw his head back, enjoying the feeling, barely believing it was finally happening. You put down every piece of cloth in your way to his thighs, put your own panties to the side and started to guide him to your entrance.

"You think is gonna be that easy?" he murmured in your ear, dodging his dick to press on your clit instead, making you moan at the contact, but also groan out of frustration.

"After all this time, it should be"

"You know what I want to hear, baby" he peppered kisses on your neck while still grinding his dick from your clit to your entrance, you were so wet he knew you would have no difficulty to take him.

"Put this thing inside of me, already" you tried to move your hips to get more friction, frustration consuming you.

Even though Javi had a purpose of you to stop calling him 'sir', he could barely hold himself from sliping inside of you, so that's what he did. Your moan as he slowly made space for him inside of you will forever be in his mind. Javi cursed under his breath as your walls squeezed him and he had to take a moment to absorb the feeling. So warm, so wet, so tight, he was in heaven. But you were impatiant.

"Please, move"

"Say my name and I will"

"Why are you so attached to this?" you pinched your brows.

He did the same "Why are you so against saying it?"

You licked a stripe on his neck "To piss you off"

"That's okay" he smirked "You don't have to say it, I'm gonna make you scream it" he held your legs and roughly pushed inside expecting to hit your special place; by the way you gasped and grabbed him, he got it just right "Found it"

Javi ran his nose through your neck and your skin bristled "You're so sensitive here, aren't you, bebita?"

"I'm starting to think that you make me sensitive everywhere"

He laughed and stopped his movements again "Now that's a confession"

"What can I say?" you huffed "It seems like you make my mind go blank when you have your huge dick inside of me and won't. fucking. move"

He laughed and started to slowly take it out just to push it in again at the same speed.

"You're gonna fucking kill me" you whined "Please, faster"

"Are you needy, baby?" he licked your neck "I can feel you squeeze me. You're desperate for my cock, huh?"

"Yes"

"Yes, what?

"Yes, sir"

He increased the speed and you moaned louder "Unbelievable" his hips were reletless and he felt you getting tighter and tighter "You're almost there, aren't you, baby?" you couldn't speak, mouth half opened and nails digging into the skin of his arm "You like it rough, don't you?"

Then he stopped.

"What the fuck?" your voice is hoarsed.

"I'm fucking you slow, baby, is that a crime?" his smile was smudge

"You're evil" you whined, hips moving to find relief.

"I am evil? Who are you to talk about evil? You're fucking teasing me here, bebita. That's so wrong" he started to move slowly again "Just say my name and I'll let you cum"

You nodded your head no.

"Say it"

"No"

"Fucking say. It." he changed the angle to repeatedly hit that spot inside of you and pulled your hair until your back arched.

"Oh my God, Javi!" you screamed as you came hard on his dick, eyes closed tight, mouth opened and body tremblimg.

His name coming out of your mouth was like music to Javi's ears, and hearing it for the first time fomented something insane inside of him. He licked his thumb and pressed it hard against your clit, your eyes widened in surprise and he got a strangled sound out of your mouth as you came again, your body violently shaking under his hands.

"Oh shit, that's it, baby. You're fucking milking me. Shit, shit, shit."

His name was now floating through your lips like a hymn, and he loved to hear it.

"I'm gonna cum"

His words seemed to wake you from your trance "On my mouth"

"Shit" he steped away and out of you and one second later you were on the floor, knelt before him. You grabbed his dick with one hand, put the tip in your mouth and that's all it took for him to cum the hardest he had in his life. You sucked it, greedy until he had nothing more to give you "Let me see it, baby" he asked with a hoarsed voice, asking you to open your mouth, showing that you had swalloed it all "Fucking dirty woman"

You smirked and rested your forehead on his thigh, exausted.

"Come 'ere" he took your hand on his and got you to your feet, holding you against him by your waist "Can you walk?"

"I think I can learn how to do it again, yeah" he chuckled.

Javi lowered your skirt before sitting you on his desk again "How are you getting home?" he asked quietly as he slowly buttoned up your blouse, trying not to startle you and have you running away again.

"I'm taking a cab" you more gently than not stopped his fingers to continue the work yourself.

"Let me take you home" he fished your panties from the floor and put it in his pocked as he wore his pants again

"You don't have to"

"I know I don't. But I'm kind of worried if you will be capable to support yourself for enough time to call a cab after I fucked you this good"

You released the louder chuckle he had ever heard you give as you stood up "You're the absolute worst, Javier."

He started to get hard to the sound of his name on your lips.

"See? Perfectly stable" one of your eyebrows was raised and all he wanted to do was to kiss your attitude away.

"I guess I'll have to fuck you harder next time, then"

"I guess"

You both went quiet as you made your way out of the building and to his car, you only speaking to give him instructions to get to your place.

"There will be a next time, right?" he spoke as you left the car.

How silly of him to think that fucking you once would be enough, would make all the consuming desire go away, if something, it only made him want you more.

You took your time to look at him, as if staring directly to his soul and gave him a small smile.

"Good night, Javi"