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gghostwriter · 4 months ago

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One Single Thread of Gold

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times Penelope tries to solve a Spencer Reid riddle and the one time she (and the team) meet the reason behind all the changes Trope: Fluff! Just fluff and team banter! w.c: 4.0k a/n: For some reason, my earlier post on this disappeared dunno why. But this is a very self indulgent fic as reader’s background is basically based on the industry I work in. I had a lot of fun writing the team banter and I hope you enjoy it too! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗

The first clue presented itself on a dull Wednesday night as the team, minus Hotch and Rossi, were leaving the bullpen after a full day of pushing papers. Penelope in all of her sunshine and colorful glory was buzzing about these accessories that she once spotted on a storefront window.

“I saw a pair of earrings and a matching necklace that would look so good with that top you bought the other day, JJ. You know, the blue one with those soft sleeves—they would look great with it. It’s tres boho chic.”

JJ smiled, opening her mouth to reply, but Spencer beat her to it.

“Did you know that boho chic was actually a response to political and social movements?”

“Wait, what?” Emily interjected.

He took her disbelief as a sign to continue on. “Yeah, yeah. There’s an article written about it in Vogue—softness and femininity historically appears in moments of political stress and war. Just like in the 70s with the hippie and anti-war movement that defined their style as a generation.”

They all piled into the elevator and turned to face the boy genius like he grew another head. For all they knew, this could be a clone and a very bad one at that. The Spencer Reid that they knew had absolutely no interest in the realms of fashion.

Penelope was the first to break the silence. “Vogue?”

“Kid, what gives? Just the other time, you didn’t know how many shoes a woman owns and now you’re some kind of expert?” Derek asked with both eyebrows raised.

“Did not knowing activate some kind of button that made you want to read about it?” Emily added on, feeling like she was in some kind of TV prank show.

“What?” Spencer licked his lips, nervous with all the attention on him. He felt like he was about to slip something up that he had been keeping to himself for a while now. A hidden precious gem that was you. “I—I like to read.” A believable excuse except his voice went up an octave, giving him away.

The three women shared a look.

“But you read academic textbooks and classic literature,” JJ stated.

Penelope added on. “Not fashion magazines.”

He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “I don’t discriminate when it comes to reading. If it’s interesting—” he shifted his weight one side to another, thinking that the ride down on the elevator seemed to be taking slower than usual. “—I’ll read it.”

Penelope narrowed her eyes. She was no profiler but she could smell a lie from a mile away way. That wasn’t the whole truth. Dr. Spencer Reid was hiding something.

“Okay, see you tomorrow!” he squeaked out as he ran out of the elevator once it hit the lobby.

She turned to the three profilers, stunned with the boy genius’ erratic behavior. “Huh, did anybody else get the feeling that Spencer was hiding something?”

“Maybe, but the kid does read a lot. Maybe he just ran out of books.” Morgan shrugged.

The other two profilers tilted their heads and slowly nodded in agreement. It wasn’t far off on something Spencer would do. He did once pick up a pamphlet in the airport to read as mentioned before to her by Derek, granted it was for a case but still, Penelope couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else.

So when she arrived home that very same night, she propped up her laptop and got to digging. Boy Genius was hiding something big and Little Miss Oracle of Quantico can find anything with her tech skills. She’ll get to the bottom of this mystery, once and for all.

———

Spencer was glad to be coming home to your presence. Having spied the lights still on from the outside of the apartment, he took the steps two at a time, excited to see his 2nd favorite person after his mother—you.

“Spence?” You called out, having heard the mahogany front door open. “Is that you, baby?”

“Hey, love. I missed you,” he deposited his satchel to the nearby sofa and ran to give you a hug.

You burrowed yourself into his arms. All the muscles in your body relaxing as you caught a whiff of his cedar wood perfume—the same scent you’ve gifted to him during the early stages of dating. “I missed you too. How was your day?”

“Better now with you,” his words coming out muffled as he refused to detach himself from the embrace. “Actually, I almost slipped up today.”

You extricated from his arms to give him an inquisitive look. The slight scrunch on your nose and raised brows made his heart flutter. How expressive, free, and trusting you were. It reminded him of your first encounter. How you teasingly asked him if he was a serial killer when he offered you a ride home in the pouring rain and how you easily accepted regardless.

“Yeah? Did any of them catch on?” you probed as you pulled him by his belt loops to the direction of the bedroom.

He laughed, finding your aggression cute. “No. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Maybe we should schedule dinner with them sometime,” you coyly suggested as you slowly started to unravel his tie. “I mean, we’ve been together for over a year now and I have moved into your apartment, under the guise of watering your plants while you’re away. Which is a lie, by the way—”

“I have plants!” he protested. His hands divesting you out of his sweater, bringing to view his favorite silk set in deep purple that accentuated your skin and the blush on your cheeks.

“—that I brought over, Spence,” you quipped back. “But don’t worry, I won’t spill how the intelligent FBI agent fooled naive me into moving in with him.”

There was a glint in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine. “Love, I wouldn’t exactly call you naive—” his voice going an octave lower. “—not when you’re looking at me with those tempting eyes of yours.”

Giggling, you leaned in for a kiss, one that he quickly took over. His calloused dominant hand wrapped around the back of your neck, effectively caging you in while his other cradled your cheek—a stark contrast to the other. Kissing Spencer had always felt like a religious experience that you never want to part from.

Reluctantly pulling away, you caught glimpse of his need for you. His hazel eyes now dark as ink, nostrils slightly flared, teeth sinking into his lower lip, and his dominant hand dug into the fleshy nape of your neck. It made you feel desirable, like the goddess that he would call you when he’s on his knees tasting nectar from the source.

The discussion of inviting the team out for dinner was long forgotten. No other words were spoken as you pushed him on the bed—only the cries of his and your name and moans of ‘yes’ echoed well into the night.

***

The second clue was uncovered when Spencer walked into the cold windy bullpen with new black cardigan adorning his lithe body. It was non-descriptive to the untrained eye but for fashion enthusiast Penelope Garcia, she knew what those four white lines on the sleeve meant—luxury label and priced well above their pay grade.

She narrowed her eyes. The Spencer she knew wouldn’t dare spend his salary on anything besides limited first edition books. Something was truly up and she planned to get to the bottom of it as her initial online search turned up nothing.

“Reid, that’s a really nice sweater,” she complimented, throwing in her bait.

He smiled. The thought of who gave it to him warmed his heart. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks Garcia.”

Her sparkly pink kitten heels clacking on the floor as she came closer. “Can I see it?” she innocently asked.

The request threw Spencer off the loop but thought nothing of it as he shrugged and handed it to her—still warm from body temperature.

Her squeals caught the attention of the other profilers filling into the office.

“What is it, baby girl?” Morgan deposited his bag on the table and stationed himself beside her. “It’s Reid’s new sweater. Are you seeing something I’m not seeing?”

Garcia rolled her eyes. This was why females are considered more observant that their sex counterpart. Her chocolate thunder was a profiler but how could he not notice what she was deducing?

“Huh,” Emily surmised. “Based on the fibers, it’s definitely not polyester. Possibly a 100% wool, what do you think, JJ?”

“It says here on the tag—100% virgin wool,” she read out loud. “That makes it very expensive, right Garcia?”

The colorful tech analyst smiled. Her girls could never let her down. “Right you are, girlfriends! But it’s not only that, this—” pointing at the four stripes on the sleeve. “—this is a signature Thom Browne detail. Their prices go up to at least 600 dollars—” they all turned to Reid who seemed clearly agitated. “—now why does our boy wonder have a piece that could buy at most five cute heels?”

With his vast intellect, he couldn’t think of a way to weasel out of this impromptu interrogation. He couldn’t very well say that it was a gift now could he? If he did, that would lead to another hard hitting question ‘from who?’ He raked his hand through his curly hair, taking the same path as yours did just earlier as you gave him a kiss goodbye.

When you gifted him the cardigan from your last New York business trip, he really thought nothing of its material equivalence, besides feeling grateful and loved. It was proof that you paid attention to even the littlest details about him.

“Hey Spence, I got you something,” you looked up at him with sparkling eyes. The first thing you had done when you got home was run into his arms. A simple act that healed his aching heart from missing it’s other half.

You reached into your luggage, enthusiastically pulling out the black clothing wrapped in tissue paper like some magician pulling out a rabbit from a hat. “Here you go!”

“A new sweater!” He exclaimed.

You rocked on your heels, looking bashful as you explained the reasoning behind it. “I noticed you fidgeting when you wore the cardigan JJ gifted you last Christmas, the polyester fibers used on it must have been really itchy so I got you a new one—” your eyes widened at how your explanation could be taken the wrong way. “—not that her gift wasn’t great! No, it was very cute! It’s just—I want you to be comfortable and protected during your cases in cold states. Polyester is a good insulator of heat but wool is still the best.”

He loved how unabashed you rambled about your interests. That was one of the first things he piqued his notice. How you liked to share your knowledge about the fashion industry that you work for but never coming across as stuck up or snobby, you just genuinely wanted to educate anyone who had a wrong perception of the billion dollar commerce. Admittedly, he was one of them but hearing you rave about it’s nitty-gritty details and socio-economic movements changed his mind. It also helped that a beautiful and intelligent woman, such as yourself, was educating him.

He pulled you in for a kiss, stopping all the worries that ran through your head. “I love it. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing at all, baby. I like taking care of you. Just like how you take care of me,” you reasoned. “Plus I got it on sale courtesy of the magazine connections.”

A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie. It was Penelope with an eyebrow raised at the subtle smile that graced his face while he replayed the moment in his head.

“Okay,” Morgan drawled. “What’s got you smiling, Pretty boy?”

“Nothing,” he squeaked out, turning to see Hotch make his way across the office. Spencer hurriedly collected his things and started to move even before their unit chief could call their attention.

“We have a case,” Hotch announced.

The remaining BAU members all looked at each other, silently communicating about Reid’s irregular demeanor, before piling into the conference room for another grueling scene of murder.

“He’s been acting weird,” Garcia rushed out. “Definitely hiding something. What do you think, Em?”

Emily nodded. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“A girl?” JJ guessed.

“Yes, must be a special one for him to keep secret for so long,” Garcia surmised. “Do you think he’ll hate it if I go further digging around to find out who she is?”

“Further?” Emily clarified.

JJ laughed. “Probably, let’s wait for him to volunteer the information. Okay, Garcia?”

She sighed, shoulders drooping, before nodding in agreement.

***

The third clue was quite literally handed to Penelope Garcia on the jet after a case when she accompanied the team.

“Cold Alaska is so not good for my skin,” she grumbled as she rummaged her bottomless bag for her favorite hand cream. “I love going with you all on trips rather than being stuck in my own tech cave but the weather wasn’t it.”

Morgan chuckled. “Aw c’mon baby girl, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy our time together?”

“You, my sculpted hunk, and the fireplace were the highlight,” Penelope turned to the other female profilers. “My beauties, do any of you have lotion? I think I lost mine.”

Before JJ or Emily could even utter a word, a tube made its way to her lap courtesy of her seat mate, Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Reid, since when do you carry lotion?” Emily inquired.

He shrugged. “Hand cream has it’s benefits besides from moisturizing the skin, it also provides an additional layer of protection. Depending on it’s properties, it can also repair and undo damage.”

The females all shared a look. This was another unexplainable behavior from their resident genius.

“We know that,” JJ stated. “We just thought you didn’t.”

His brows furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, besides from the fact that you’ve never shown interest about skincare before, isn’t it a stereotype for men not to know? Unless—” Emily slyly smiled and nodded at Garcia to continue.

“Unless you have a girlfriend that we don’t know about,” Garcia bounced on her seat.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Spencer’s eyes widened in alarm. He didn’t realize he was walking into a trap before it was too late. “What makes you say that?”

They laughed.

JJ started. “Besides from you suddenly being knowledgeable in fashion—“

“—or having a pricey sweater you’d never buy for yourself—” Emily added on.

“Or, or—“ Garcia reached out to touch his hand. Which made Spencer react with a high pitched call of her name. “—having a shea butter lotion with rough hands!” She waved the tube up in the air. “Plus, this is half empty. So either it’s not working which I doubt since this is a good brand or you keep this in your bag for a special someone to use!”

Derek chuckled. “Baby girl, you could be a profiler at this point.”

“Oh tell me something I don’t know,” she quipped back. “So Reid, want to tell us the truth?”

He sighed, finding no escape. “Yes, yes I have a girlfriend.”

The girls all shrieked with laughter and their own corresponding questions of who is she? How did you meet? How long has this been going on? What does she do for a living? Is she pretty? Oh I bet she is!

“Looks like that cat is out of the bag,” Rossi nonchalantly stated.

Four sets of eyes turned to look at one of the BAU founders. “Rossi, you knew about this and didn’t tell me?” Garcia gasped, a hand to her chest at the thought of betrayal.

He laughed. “I caught them on a dinner date once and our boy wonder over here—“ nodded in Reid’s direction. “—begged me not to out him yet, said he wanted to be the one to tell the team the news but that was like what, six months ago?”

“Six months ago?” Emily repeated.

“Wait, wait. Hotch, don’t tell me you also knew?” Morgan asked.

The unit chief smiled. “She was added to Reid’s emergency contact last February.”

“February? That’s almost a year ago!” JJ sputtered out.

The tech analyst turned to glare at the youngest member of the BAU. “Reid, you better start spilling all the details or so help me, I will stalk all your digital footprint when we land until I find out who she is, where she lives, and what her deepest darkest secret is.”

“What about hearing it all from her, instead?” He rubbed the back of his neck. The secrecy had gone on for so long and there was no time like the present to introduce his chosen family to his chosen partner—hopefully until the end of time. “She wants to treat you all out for dinner tonight.”

All four nodded vigorously as they watched him pull out his phone and send a quick text to which you readily replied and agreed to.

“My man,” Derek sighed. “Can’t believe you got a girlfriend without me being your wingman.”

“Answer me at least this, is she pretty and does she make you happy?” Garcia asked. No matter how nosey she may be, she only wanted the best for Spencer and if the recent lightness and smiles were all caused by his mystery girlfriend, she already approved.

“The prettiest,” Spencer gushed out. “She’s my own personal sunshine.”

The three girls melted into their seats. Their youngest was all grown up waxing prose over his lover.

“She makes you sappy too,” Derek teased.

***

[EXTRA - When the mystery was uncovered]

Spencer had never felt any more nervous that this moment as he, with the rest of the team minus Hotch and Rossi, wait for your arrival. He sat with his back to the restaurant entrance and his cardigan laying on the empty seat beside him as a reservation mark. His eyes had been going back and forth to his idle phone and to the conversation the team was having.

Morgan noted his state of distress and chuckled. “You okay there, lover boy? She’s still coming right, your mystery girlfriend?”

“Yeah, yeah. She said she was on her way 9 minutes and 24 seconds ago and based on the route and traffic, she should have been here 45 seconds earlier. Just worried that something might have happened.”

Penelope leaned in, picking on her bubblegum pink choice of drink as she did. “You know, if you just told me her name I could have tracked every movement by now and you wouldn’t be sitting here worrying.”

“What—no Garcia, I don’t want her tracked plus she didn’t want you to know everything about her even before meeting her,” his voice going up an octave in your defense.

She shrugged. “I’m just saying. I mean we don’t know a single thing about her—”

“We do know she exists and you’ve been together for almost a year now,” Emily interjected.

“Actually, it’s been more than year—one year and 124 days to be exact.”

“Buttercup, all I’m saying is we don’t even know how she looks—” Garcia gasped, having spotted a passerby on the window and what she was wearing. “Oh my gosh, that maroon coat is to die for and that textured leather bag—I wonder if I could track her down and ask where she got it.”

“Oh she’s pretty,” JJ noted.

Derek smirked. “Baby girl, tell me if you plan to ask her ‘cause I wouldn’t mind asking for her number.”

The tech analyst’s eyes further widened as she noted the attractive woman going inside the restaurant.

“You weren’t kidding about that coat, Garcia, it looks really nice,” JJ appraised.

Emily squinted her eyes, taking note of the garment in question. “It looks high quality, probably vintage and—is she going near us?”

“Oh gods, she is! Act natural, act natural!” Penelope chanted as she repeatedly slapped Derek’s arm.

The stranger stopped behind Spencer. “Hey handsome,” your melodic voice was a siren that called to his every being. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Penelope’s jaw dropped as she took in Derek’s flustered reaction.

“Me?” He pointed at himself, getting picked up in such a public setting was new even for him—the ladies man of the BAU.

You laughed. “Well, you too but I was more of talking to this lover of mine—“ you bent down, kissing your boyfriend’s cheek. “Hey, Spence.”

A series of gasps were heard all around the table.

The youngest stood up and turned to give you a soft kiss on the lips. “Hey, Y/N. I was starting to get worried.”

“I missed the train, sorry I forgot to send an update,” you explained as he helped you into your seat.

Promptly seating back down, he angled his body to yours—all attention on you as if you were the only one in the room. And in a way you were, with how molten his doe eyes stared, alternating between yours and your painted lips that begged to be kissed.

He always felt breathless when you were near. It was as if he found his very own Aphrodite to worship here on earth. Spencer was no believer of fates or destiny but he would pray and light a candle if he needed to, just to keep you his. Your intelligent mind complimenting his, your outgoing personality that draws anyone in, and your face that could launch a thousand ships.

Those eyes that could read the deepest crevices of his fiber of being. Those cheeks that begged to be caressed by his calloused hands. Those soft lips that deserved to be kissed and devoured until you, in turn, were as breathless as he was. He suddenly wished you both were anywhere else but here—specifically in the confines of the apartment where he was free to express his love, devotion, and adoration until you scream his name and beg him to stop. His hand, having found it’s way to your thigh, squeezed the flesh three times—communicating his promise to have your hair laid around you like a halo as you lay under him, bare and writhing with need.

The blonde on the other end of the table cleared her throat, cutting through the tension.

“Okay, Spence,” she smiled. “Mind introducing us to your girlfriend?”

He brought your hand to his lips, leaving a series of sweet kisses on your knuckle. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is the rest of the team. Morgan—“ he gestured to each one. “Emily, JJ, and Garcia.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you!” You exclaimed. “So sorry we’re only meeting now. We wanted to stay in our little bubble for as long as we could plus this handsome FBI agent—” you nudged Spencer’s shoulder. “—wanted to keep me to himself. But where’s Aaron and Dave?”

Emily whispered under her breath. “Aaron? Dave?”

“They had prior commitments, love. They did send their regards and Rossi wants to invite you to the next gathering at his mansion,” Spencer explained.

“Love?” Penelope squeaked out. This was really starting to feel like Twilight zone for the team members.

You nodded. “I’ll definitely plot it on my calendar. Now, I heard you had some questions for me?”

“How’d you two meet?” JJ asked.

“When was the first date?” Emily inquired.

Penelope brought out a pen and paper. “What’s you social security number?”

Derek snorted at that. “Do you have any other siblings?”

Spencer’s eyebrows raised further and further up with each question while your shoulders shook with laughter.

“She has all the time in the world to get to know each of you,” Spencer laid out. “No need to make it sound like an interrogation.” He was wishing to keep you forever, if you’d let him.

You smiled as you caressed his cheek, having caught on to the veiled meaning behind his words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #my own fics

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thesummerpetrichor · 1 year ago

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𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓮𝓷: 𝓓𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓷’ 𝓓𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓷’

Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: When you got dragged along to your father's weekend embassy getaway you were not expecting to meet the one man he couldn't stand. You weren't expecting to catch his eye. You weren't expecting that you'd be fucking him to get back at your father. You sure as hell weren't expecting him to be finger fucking you under your dinner table.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, reader is the ambassador’s daughter [please do not imagine your real dads because this shit gets nasty], thicc age gap [reader is in her early 20s Javier is in his 40s], petnames, Javi can lift reader, mommy and daddy issues for spice, use of ‘daddy’ [once] for extra spice, explicit language, explicit sexual content, size kink, mean!dom!brat tamer!Javi, brat!reader, dirty talk, degradation, public sex, semi public sex, fingering under the table, oral [m receiving], facial [oop], slight cumplay?, spanking, choking [like once], unprotected P in V [ do better!!] let me know if I missed anything!!

Word Count: 10.4k

A/N: This is part one of three (1/3) that follows these two's little horny adventure over the weekend. Pure and utter filth because I dreamt about being on an embassy vacay with Javi. Absolute depravity but I hope you nasties enjoy mwah!! 💗

Masterlist

Darlin', darlin', doesn't have a problem

Lying to herself 'cause her liquor's top-shelf

Sophie’s eyes shot open, mouth falling agape as she slowly turned her head in your direction. “You’re fucking kidding!” Lyn was already leaning over you, her upper body between her and your recliner, and Maria and Sandra had picked up their cocktails and skirted closer.

“DEA Javier?” Anne’s not so subtle reaction prompted a collective “shush” from the group. She lowered her voice, but sounded just as shocked as she did moments ago. “Mean, grumpy, asshole Javier?!” Sandra leaned in closer, then raised her brows at the former indicatively.

“Pornstar Javier.”

Maria smacked the both of you on your shoulders, her expression nothing short of grossed out. “You mean my tio Javier.”

Sighing you let your head fall back against your chair, legs stretched out and crossed over one another as you brought your straw to your upturned lips. Maria dropped her head on your shoulder. “You're going to kill your father”. Giggles floated through the warm afternoon air, drowned out partially by the music emanating from the restaurant nearby.

You were an unspecified amount of drinks into the morning, but more drunk on the prospect that Agent Peña was now in a prison of his own mind, having started something that had spun quickly out of his control. The sun was shining down on your mostly bare body, skin glittering thanks to the tiny droplets of water that gemmed your legs from when you’d walked across the beach and let the waves crash gently against them.

Sliding your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose, you met his gawking eyes from across the pool. He was hunched over a whiskey at the bar, pretending like he wasn’t eye fucking his bosses daughter mere seconds ago, enjoying the view under the guise of relaxing with his partners.

You shot him a wink, concealing your smirk with your strawberry daiquiri when he nearly choked on his drink– clumsily accepting the paper napkin Carillo confusedly offered him.

You had legitimately tried every possible way of getting out of joining your dad on his little embassy getaway. It was the middle of summer, and spending the weekend with a bunch of retirees, cops, and CIA agents was not exactly what you would call an ideal vacation. But as always you ended up giving in, and before you knew it you were in Cartagena, sunhat perched on your head, checking into the hotel.

Why you indulged him was a mystery to you. The man had practically disappeared for six months, and then called you out of the blue begging you to tag along. It was like having the perfect family was a requirement at that shitty excuse of a job. You were convinced you were just there to be an accessory to his polished image, some sort of certificate of achievement for whatever the hell he called parenting.

But a free vacation? Free booze? Food? And a weekend with your friends? That seemed worth the trouble of having to deal with him for a couple of days, say ‘hi’ to and make menial conversation with his co workers, and sit through whatever superficial dinner they hosted to pat themselves on the back for the work they did over the past year.

Admittedly, it was going a lot better than you had initially expected. The oldies sat around playing cards– trying to discuss retirement plans and secure raises, and you stayed far away, sipping cocktails by the pool, lounging in the summer sun, and watching the volleyball matches on the sand. Cartagena had terrific beaches, and the DEA had a whole lot of people who contributed to the view.

At least they were good for something.

Their attaché was good for a lot of things.

Despite having never met him, you knew quite a lot about Javier Peña. How could you not? The man was on your dad’s mind more than your entire family. Insolent, dismissive, inflexible, impudent, you could go on for hours. You wondered what he was really like– the guy who had gotten more attention from your father in two years of his career than you did your entire life.

Expecting some grumpy, old, grubby handed man who spent all his time trying to pick up women at bars– calling it espionage, you were knocked for six when you saw tall, brown haired, broad shouldered, cut jaw, Agent Peña respond to his name being called across the reception. For how much the ambassador liked to discuss him he had completely glossed over his striking good looks.

Even though he wasn’t difficult to miss among the senior citizens it wasn’t his ‘pinup boy’ persona that initially caught your attention. From the moment you’d dragged your suitcase up the lobby staircase you couldn't help but shake the feeling that someone's eyes had been following you. You brushed it off at first, but their gaze had burnt a hole into your back soon enough, and you were forced to scout the room for the supposed perpetrator.

For better or for worse your voyeur did little to hide their private indulgence. Leaning against the concierge's desk you met the eyes of the one person you were least expecting to have caught the interest of. Granted, Javier looked rather delicious in his dark jeans and blue, cotton shirt, you’d expect he’d have at least a little more shame than everyone at the embassy gave him credit for.

It was quite flattering actually, the way he was eating up the sight of you in your sundress– that one you bought on your vacation in Italy last summer, the one that fell just above mid thigh, with that soft, white, cotton fabric that was perfect for the hot weather. He was smoking a cigarette beside your father’s assistant Colleen, and a blonde man whose face was turned away from you. His eyes raked over your body and landed on the pendant your dad gifted you for your birthday as it dangled from your neck– the blue diamond brushing over the valley between your breasts.

He knew you’d caught him, but that didn’t stop the man. It was admirable.

You had to assume he didn’t know who you were, because if he did he was pretty adventurous for salivating over you so openly, with your father just a few feet away. It wasn't difficult to get on the ambassador’s shit list, and by far Agent Peña seemed to be kicking everyone’s ass for the top spot. The fact that he was so obviously avoiding the ambassador wasn’t doing him any favors. Maybe this was his twisted way of getting back at your dad. Maybe you liked that it was.

Your father moved around the crowded lobby, switching pleasantries with the mostly sunburned crowd. He didn’t bother dragging you along for introductions, and usually you’d prefer being perched on the couch with your friends, but it was almost impossible not to feel a little left out when he cornered Peña and his blonde friend near the flavored water.

You watched from a distance as the ambassador took the blonde’s hand, shook it and then quite violently patted his back before he shook Peña’s shoulder in a painfully forced gesture. Truth be told, you felt quite bad for the man. It was a shame really– getting forced into spending a weekend with the only people more insufferable than the cartels.

For him, that is.

—

It's alarming, honestly, how charming she can be

Fooling everyone, telling 'em she's having fun

The smell of a well cooked meal should not have excited you as much as it did. But the prospect of being able to eat something that wasn’t cooked by your mother was far too appealing to pass upon. Lunch was served, even though you knew it was meant to be more of a commencement ceremony for the weekend.

You looked towards the restaurant– serenely sandwiched between the beach and the pool, and covered partially by a canopy of palm trees, to find the people moving in in droves. Eager to get the “fun” going. You had already lost your father to the crowd, and even better it seemed like he’d be gone a while before he’d be inflicting his presence on you once again.

Sophie emerged from the mob, looking dramatically desperate. She grabbed your arm. “I can’t do this sober”. She was serious as a heart attack, and so were you. Sliding your sunglasses down the bridge of your nose you met her gaze. “You and me both”

Browsing the spread was a workout of its own. The thing seemed to run for miles, and the task was only made harder thanks to the many people who stopped you on the way. “The ambassador's daughter right?!” What more could you do besides smile awkwardly and say hello. The whole world seemed to know your entire life story– where you were studying, your major, the fact that you’d spent the first week of summer with your mother. You knew your father liked to run his mouth, but the fact that you were, in any way, a point of conversation, was at the very least jarring.

After nearly twenty minutes of perusing you finally made it to the bar, and were utterly grateful for the handsome bartender who fixed your drinks in a giffy. All that was left to do was huddle in the corner and get day-drunk till the entire ordeal was over.

“Well, well well, what a surprise” Turning around from the onyx countertop, you came face to face with a firm, broad chest. You tilted your chin to find Maria’s dad smiling down at you. He reached for her, then mused the hair in a few rugged motions. She grumbled, but fell into his side anyway.

You liked Mr Carillo, he was really nice, always personable, and it looked like him and Maria had a great relationship. The man always looked out for her, made jokes with her, and didn’t take himself too seriously. He was a good dad.

“Nice to see you again Mr. Carillo.” You extended him your first genuine smile in what felt like hours. “So lovely to see you, I was wondering why Maria was so excited to tag along.” The colonel’s booming voice caught the attention of his two companions, who’s heads turned in your direction.

“That is absolutely false, I would never.” Maria looked at her dad as if to politely ask him to shut up, but as always her bright smile betrayed her. The two laughed, then turned to you once again.

As if he’d just realized something, Mr. Carillo spoke up frantically. “Oh, my apologies” he shook his head, chiding himself for his lack of introduction, and gestured to the two men sitting beside him. You didn’t need any introductions if you were being honest. After being subjected to your dads twenty four hour complaining you basically knew the whole embassy, could even recognize them from their little quirks or habits.

You certainly didn’t need an introduction for the dark head of hair that refused to look you in the eyes. “Steve Murphy.” Mr. Carillo grabbed the blonde– the one whose face you couldn't quite catch a glimpse of earlier, by the shoulder.

If you weren't so taken up by his partner, Murphy’s good looks would have swayed you just the same. But Steve was far too decent to undress you with his eyes from across the room, he was far too level headed to get on your father’s nerves. An unfortunate, or rather fortunate side effect of his unbearably favorable reputation was that he was completely and utterly uninteresting.

At least to you, brothel stories were far more entertaining than those of the duck hunting variety. And of course, news of hillbilly Steve’s shooting skills had reached the ambassadors desk. You wondered how Javier didn’t consider Murphy and your father’s trip to the lake treason.

He extended his hand towards you, and you shook it. Deep blue eyes affable and relaxed. Then again almost anyone looked relaxed in comparison to your father. His smile was so annoyingly friendly you thought you might just explode. “Nice to meet you” You noticed the wedding band twinkling on his ring finger. Cute.

Mr. Carillo nodded in his partner’s direction. “Javier Peña” His presence was a lot less larger than life up close. If you were being honest he looked quite flustered, nervous even. It crossed your mind that who exactly you were was only just beginning to dawn on him. All the machismo seemed to have faded at the realization that death would be better than indulging whatever little fantasy he had brewing in his head.

If there was one thing he wasn’t going to do, it was fuck his asshole boss’s daughter.

“The infamous Javier Peña.” Raising his drink to his lips, he formed a tight smile. “That’s me.” He let out a deep exhale through his nose, followed by another shakey smile, barely concealing his apparent desire to escape the entire situation.

“So you’re the one stealing my dad away.” The nice man that he was, Murphy had already indulged Papa Carillo and hija Carillo in a conversation about college. “nice to finally see you in person.” Javier wasn’t an idiot, anyone who could pick up on your tone would have understood in a moment you’d caught their prying eyes. He sighed, then chuckled, as if to acknowledge your teasing.

“Javi’s famous at home?” You seemed to have caught the blonde’s attention. You rolled your eyes, then fixed them on the agent in front of you. “You’d think they were married.” The group broke out into laughter, Javier excluded of course, who looked rather embarrassed at the prospect. It felt like only the two of you knew you weren't really joking.

“Not sitting at the ambassador’s table?” Javier seemed genuinely curious, like you had gone out of your way to silently torment him for his little private moment. “I couldn’t do that to myself” Yet again, there was laughter, and yet again it felt like a little inside joke between just you and Agent Peña.

Carillo and Murphy quickly became interested in something Maria had to say, and you took the opportunity to make Javier aware you weren’t in fact an completely oblivious idiot. “Hoping to see you around Agent Peña, and not just from afar this time.” He smiled, and raised his glass for a toast, rolling his eyes and finishing the last of his whiskey.

What kind of a psychopath drank whiskey at 2:00pm

It wasn’t long before you migrated to the far end of the restaurant. Thanks to the time they spent in Cali you were sure almost everyone had forgotten just how tremendously obnoxious your father was. Well, almost everyone. Poor agent Peña took every opportunity to escape working in Bogota, and still ended up trapped in a room with a hundred other people, being subjected to his presence.

You popped a cherry into your mouth, reaching for your third drink in a span of two hours, and forced your eyes away from the back of his head. Anything that could help you disassociate from your dads co co-workers' excruciating presence was worth a shot. Maria squeezed onto the table you and your friends were crowded on– all unwilling to go within meters of the shit show inside. She placed two margaritas on the table for Sophie and Sandra, the cultural attaché’s daughters, and then took a sip of her own. Looked like everyone was on the same page.

Bothersome clapping brought you back to reality, and you gazed up to find your dad moseying his way to the little stage at the center of the restaurant to grab the mic out of Noonan’s grasp. He fixed the sleeves of his white cotton shirt, then tossed his shades into its front pocket.

The man was preparing. Great.

Javier hung his head, then rubbed his temple. Presumably realizing that Noonan’s was far from the only speech he’d be enduring that afternoon. You watched as he slithered out of his table, presumably to the bar to drown in another glass of whiskey. If he thought this was bad, you wondered what he’d do if he met your mother.

Grabbing your lighter from the table you scooted out of your little corner in the far end of the restaurant. Hoping to make your escape before your dad began his toast, or worse noticed your presence. You squeezed past Sandra, whose forehead was plastered to the table, and shimmied out through the side staircase leading to the beach, careful to stay out of view of the stage.

You’d take anyone’s eyes following you besides your fathers.

—

She says, "You don't want to be like me"

Don't wanna see all the things I've seen

I'm dying, I'm dying"

The chipped wooden railing crackled softly under the weight of your leaning elbows, not dissimilar to the click of your lighter, to which you brought your cigarette.

It was difficult to believe you were already two weeks into the summer. The realization hit you that morning as you checked your ticket, and noticed how you didn't even know what day it was. Time had passed by rather quickly, to your dismay, and the feeling that your little vacation was slipping through your fingers had been haunting you ever since.

You wondered if this senior citizen's getaway you had decided to accompany your father on was really worth your time and energy. Sure, on the surface it was nice to see some of your friends again, and you’d be lying if you said you weren't excited for a free vacation, but you couldn’t shake the bitter taste the whole ordeal had left on your tongue.

The warm beach breeze kissed your skin, the smell of sea salt and the squawking of the seagulls lulling you into daze. Your father’s speech drowned out in the distance, and your mind drifted to the way Javier had so shamelessly checked you out in the hotel lobby.

Effecting you was one thing. Surely you were no stranger to catching people's attention, but it was the absolute boldness of the gesture that struck you. He let his eyes linger on your bare legs, let them rake slowly up your frame as if he were documenting the memory for later use. Right there, two feet away from your father.

It only made you want him more.

Agent Peña’s shameless gawking was enough to fan the little flames of desire already set ablaze in your system– since the moment you noticed him leaning against the concierge’s desk. But it was the precariousness of the situation that really excited you. As suave as he may seem, Peña was quite an easy read. You didn’t need to be a psychoanalyst to understand the man wasn’t one to say no to a little chaos, a little adrenaline rush, dare say a little fun. You also didn't need to be a psychoanalyst to notice the fact that he was clearly working against every bone in his body not to yield to his desires– for the sake of his peace of mind, and professionalism

You could imagine it already, the satisfaction of driving him just a little bit crazy– starting him off on something you knew he’d be compelled to finish. Something that if your father were to find, would drive him absolutely insane. After all you’d endured all these years, who was he to deny you a little fun? That too just to preserve his status and ego.

“Your dad know you’re sneaking off for a smoke in the middle of his toast?” Startled, you whipped your head in the direction of the voice, speak of the devil. You came face to face with Agent Peña leaning against the railing beside you. He crushed the butt of his cigarette against the wood. It was then you realized he had clearly been out far longer than you had.

“I don't know agent Peña, does your boss know you’re sneaking out in the middle of his toast?” You leaned towards him as you spoke, catching the faint scent of alcohol, cologne and now nicotine off his shirt, and watched his lips lift into a subtle smirk concealed lightly by thin gray smoke.

He raised his brow, and without waiting for you to offer, swifty took your cigarette from between your fingers– he took a puff. “So that's how it is..” his fingers brushed your skin when he handed the cigarette back to you, and you matched his expression as you took it between your index and thumb.

“I wont tell if you won’t” It was quite impressive how he managed to sneak up beside you, without catching your attention in the slightest. Not to mention you weren’t exactly sure how long he’d been creeping on you before he decided to do it anyway. If he looked at his informants with even half the charm he was flaunting with you, you’d have a lot of faith in his success rates. Who knew, maybe he was better at his job than your father liked to believe?

“The ambassador’s daughter huh?” It came out more strained than anything. Talk about an easy read– the man could barely curtail his disappointment. He looked at you once again. “Couldn’t tell.”

Cocking your head to the side you narrowed your eyes at him- expecting some stupid explanation. “Yeah, why’s that?”

“Expected you to be younger ‘f ‘m being honest.” He used the edge of the railing like an ashtray. “Really? How young.” You knew he was teasing, but you were also somewhat curious. What did he think your father’s daughter would be like?

He shrugged. “Four, five.” Then just barely managed to conceal his laughter. He was handsome, charming, strong headed and his career goals consisted of more than kissing his superiors asses. Of course your father hated him.

“At his age, please. If you're looking for a promotion, I'm not helping.” Scoffing, you watched as his eyes shifted to the beach. As he had done in the lobby you took your time to take in his profile– the way the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, his sunglasses teasingly tugging them further down.

He broke the silence. “So, What brings you on the retirement trip”

“I like a change of environment once in a while.” You shrugged, surprised by what seemed to you like genuine curiosity.

“What environment? The antique show?” He half rolled his eyes, then just barely motioned his head towards the restaurant. You sighed as you looked on, making out only the top of your dads head turning left to right, then another burst of artificial laughter. You turned back to face him, eyes raking over his frame.

“‘Was thinkin’ more vintage.” Javier laughed, almost impressed with how forward you were, leaning further forward across the railing, with his yale blue shirt stretched to the seams across his back, hugging his biceps and folding right above his elbow. “S’ that so?”

“And what's your deal? Just like pissing off the establishment?” his eyes dropped to your lips as he watched you take a puff. “Doesn't take much to do that now, does it babydoll?” The pet name had your breath hitching in your throat, you knew you were treading rocky waters.

“And how would I know that, Agent Peña” it felt like his brown eyes could look right through your body and to your soul, deep and twinkling– with what exactly you weren't sure at that moment. He chuckled to himself. He wasn’t exactly wrong, but what fun was just admitting it when you could involve him in your shenanigans.

Momentarily your eyes shifted to the cigarette. His eyes were trained on the smoke gently slipping past your lips as you inspected it. You twirled it between your fingers, and then turned your head to face him once again. “Just a hunch.” If he planned to keep you away he was doing a terrible job. Every moment spent with you was another foot underground.

Unfortunately for him, his attention was quickly diverted once again when he noticed you bring the cigarette to his mouth. Aware of what you were trying to do he parted his lips, letting you place it between them. You watched intently as he took a puff, still holding it in place without flinching. Gently, you brought it back to your mouth, but not before thumbing his bottom lip discreetly.

He exhaled the smoke. “See what I mean?” His jaw ticked, face tense but eyes turning impossibly darker. You almost felt a little bad for torturing and teasing him the way you were– knowing full well he couldn’t act on his desires. The man had little self control, and despite that he knew exactly what he was getting into when he sneaked up behind you. His compulsion was sweet.

You stepped closer, rising to your tiptoes to have your lips ghost his. “Maybe I do.” As you had done moments ago this time he reached for the cigarette between your lips. The man was using every bit of self restraint he could muster to keep his hands away. The tension in his brows formed tiny creases in his forehead, and his eyes practically pleaded with you to put him out of his misery – because god knows he looked like he couldn’t do it himself.

“Darling?!” Your eyes widened for a split second, before your lips reverted to their smile– the ring of your dads voice from what was not too far away bursting Javier’s little bubble and sending a wave of sheer panic through his system. It was cute– like a child getting caught holding hands with their kindergarten crush at recess.

Among the employees you’d heard about, you certainly didn't expect to be endeared by Javier Peña of all people. Still mere inches away from his face, you tilted your head ever so slightly, placing a soft, chaste kiss to his cheek. You felt his skin flush under your touch. The sound of muted laughter echoed from the restaurant once again, and you couldn’t help the feeling that it was mocking the man in front of you.

“See you at dinner Agent Peña!”

—

She says, "You don't want to get this way

Famous and dumb at an early age

Lying, I'm lying"

You had to bend your knees when you tried to catch up with your dad along the cobblestone pathway. Just to make sure you weren’t giving people a view as you ran in your all too short dress. Well, the wrong people that is. The ambassador had stood outside your door for a good twenty five minutes, willing you to come out while you tried on every possible outfit combination you had packed, all to catch the eyes of the one person he couldn’t stand.

It was quite enjoyable actually, hearing him plead with you to just throw something on and get moving as you sat inside– feet up on the vanity, perfecting your look, knowing just what the consequences would be.

You looked over yourself in the mirror time and time again. From the nail polish on your toes to the delicate earrings sparkling against your neck you spared nothing to ensure no detail of your appearance was left unaddressed.

An entire night of sitting and clapping at dull speeches, hearing each diplomat drone on about their achievements? Worst of all your father- who you were sure was going to take the opportunity of an open mic to give a lecture about hard work and dedication? Might as well make it an occasion.

With so much on your mind, who could blame you for forgetting to slip on your panties? A small lapse in your memory that was completely unmotivated, and to be honest, quite unfortunate, considering you were seated next to a certain Agent Javier Peña for the evening.

Throwing your oversized blazer on in a rush, you hoped it would do the job of making you look somewhat put together to everyone else at that shitty dinner. You were quite thankful when you realized you were not overdressed for the occasion, rather your short black dress came off far more ‘smart casual’ compared to the full length gowns, satin shawls and bow ties that roamed the hotel ballroom.

Tables were separated by mere feet, the room barely being able to accommodate the large crowd. Finding your seat seemed like a task, one that nearly everyone was struggling with. You knew you were seated with your dad at one of the smaller ones at the far end of the ballroom, but you didn't expect to be squeezing past entire embassy departments to get there.

It seemed like you’d been wandering for hours before you saw a face you recognised. You ducked under Javier’s deputy Neil, your head missing a jab from his elbow by inches as you attempted to scoot towards his boss– as always nursing a glass of alcohol in complete isolation, fingers massaging his temples.

And here you thought you weren’t looking forward to the event.

You walked up behind him. “I think you’re in my seat” You’d think he’d seen a ghost the way he seemed to be jumpscared by your presence. You felt the fabric of your dress brush the cut of your upper thigh– he was right to be afraid. He muttered a soft “christ” under his breath and swallowed thickly.

“Well, well, look who it is” The poor man sounded pained, just not pained enough to resist undressing you with his eyes as you walked around him and took a seat. It was like he was scared of you– of how good you looked in that little black dress, that slightly oversized blazer barely hiding you away from his prying eyes. Flattered, you let him enjoy the view for a moment, slipping your blazer off your shoulders far slower than necessary and letting it crumple behind you.

He watched the goosebumps erupt on your skin, thanks to the cool of the air conditioning.

“Aren't you a sight for sore eyes, all dressed up” You batted your lashes at him, leaning closer. If you thought he looked good before, boy did he look delicious in his fitted navy blazer, white shirt, and red tie. The outfit was so devastatingly boring, but he made it work somehow. He let out a small laugh, more of an exhale through his nose.

Your fingers ran along the unnecessarily expensive silk table cloth, lipstick you had smudged on your fingertips earlier staining it ever so slightly, inching closer. “That's cute babydoll, ambassador's mandate” He didn't even need to try to sound condescending, it was practically an inherent part of his tone. You rolled your eyes, then pouted up at him, reaching for his hand that was gripping his glass of whiskey.

“Who cares what the ambassador has to say, anyway” He let you play with his fingers, but scoffed at your whiny words out of stubbornness nonetheless. “Oh yeah, surely that's not a problem for you, is it?!” He was so close you could make out the scent of alcohol already on his breath– fanning against your smiling lips. You dropped your hand to rest on his thigh. Even by your standards you were being quite bold, but the sight of him shivering at your touch was well worth it.

You could have indulged him in conversation for hours, but unfortunately for him, from the corner of your eye you spotted a familiar black dress shirt, punctuated by the tone of manufactured enthusiasm.

“Hi darling” You jumped from your seat, rather quickly, and presumably gave Javier a bigger shock than the one you had two minutes before. A shame he seemed too lost in your conversation to have noticed your father strut to his seat.

“Hi dad” Smiley as ever you leaned over the table just enough to kiss his cheek, and more than enough to give Javier a view that had him choking on his drink yet again. The hem of your dress tickled your upper thigh. You bit back a smile when heard him cough behind you.

Thank god for his dark blazer– you’d hate to have his whiskey stain his perfect outfit.

Your father gave him a curious, worried onceover as he scrambled to his feet. “Good evening Agent Peña, all okay?”

“Yes- yeah,– perfect ambassador-” Things were in fact not perfect– by his standards that is. You could tell by the storm that was clearly brewing under his professional facade. He let out a shaky breath, wiping his sweaty palms on the fabric of his dress pants while he watched your dad inspect the name placards. “Quite a table they put together huh?”

“Tell me about it” He breathed, and shot you a look that could kill. Having caught a glimpse of what was under your dress– or rather the lack thereof, you couldn’t blame him.

“Mr. Stechner! So nice to see you-” For the first time in his life Javier was happy to see Bill Stechner. He took the opportunity opened by your dad as he greeted him to give you a piece of his mind. “Are you tryna’ get me fucking killed?!” He did not sound happy, voice a seething whisper in your ear. You bit your lip to keep from smiling.

“Slipped my mind..” You were lucky the table was big, the arriving guests oblivious to your whispers. He took a final swig of his drink, glass now empty and glistening with golden residue. It was nearly full when you first approached him.

“Bil, Brenda” Javier’s hatred for Bill was so well known even you were privy to it. The man did little to hide it anyway. The thought of poor old him juggling Stechner, Noonan, your father and now you only egged you on. He shook the man's hand, and you wondered if Bill felt the otherwise indifferent agent’s cold sweat.

He turned back to you. “Yeah? you managed a blazer but not your fucking panties?” You’d think Javier’d leave this kind of a shakedown for his interrogations, because by the way he was talking to you you’d think you’d committed some horrendous offense. When he put it the way he did, it sounded a lot more adventurous then you would have let yourself believe.

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks.

He grabbed a fresh drink off a passing waiter’s tray– one that was definitely not meant for him. “Thank you.” Then again with how chaotic the past five minutes turned out to be you were sure he didn’t care.

“Wasn’t thinkin’ bout that” You pouted up at him, and he looked like he could almost cry from frustration. What a sight that would be for the embassy dinner. He exhaled heavily instead.

“Goddamn brat”

That you were, and you were going to be until he finally caved.

The table took their seats, former ambassador Noonan and Milgroup head Owen joining the group. Thanks to the way the room was set up, those sitting opposite you and Javier were forced to turn their chairs towards the stage at its front so as to not crane their necks awkwardly during the speeches. They were quite enthused about the whole thing, but you wondered why, considering they wouldn’t be missing much by looking away anyways.

“Stuck with the old curmudgeons tonight huh?” Owen pointed to the rest of the table like he didn’t already have a foot in the grave. They laughed nonetheless. “Gonna be a long night.” Noonan turned away just in time to not notice Javier grip the bottom of your chair, and yank it closer. You looked up at him, as if to ask what the hell he was doing, but he paid you no mind. Until that moment you were feeling quite smug, even impressed with yourself. But you were stupid to think that Javier Peña, of all people, was going to let your misbehavior slide.

“Better get comfortable” To the ringing words from father dear the group clinked their glasses. Javier pat you on the back, casually letting his hand slither down and rest beside your leg on your chair. What the hell was he doing? It didn’t matter, your dad was already bringing up his successful raid in Cali.

“Congratulations Agent Peña, I wish I would’ve bought you a bottle of champagne or something. Completely slipped my mind” It of course did not slip your fathers mind, he’d brought up the raid on the way to the resort. There was just no way in hell he was conceding to that “fucker” especially after he’d ignored his instructions. Instructions that were very clear: do not go forward with that raid.

“Not at all, ambassador. All this- “ He gestured to the table “Is more than enough” what a fucking shill. You had to give it to him, the man knew how to kiss ass. Surely the establishment would notice, but hell what could they even do? His mockery was so subtle they couldn't even point it out.

“Gives us a reason to see the kids” Genuine as ever Owen raised his glass. Maybe you gave these freaks too much credit. Out of the blue you felt a warm hand sneak up your upper thigh, finding a home dangerously close to the hem of your dress. Yelping unintentionally you felt a chill run down your spine as Bill spoke.

“Of course! s’nice to see some fresh faces”

Rough fingers smoothed over your supple skin. “To the youngsters” Your father raised his glass, but you could barely think of anything else besides the desire that was polling in your belly. You shifted in your seat again, but Javier was quick to pinch you slightly as a warning. Something told you it was the least severe one he dished out.

The room suddenly felt a lot warmer than it did a few minutes ago. Javier brushed his thumb against your flesh, then squeezed. He gazed down for a moment, then smiled the first genuine smile you’d seen that evening. He raised his glass, and looked your father right in the eye.

“To your daughter, ambassador”

That sick fuck. You’d be lying if you said it didnt make your heart flutter, or your tummy twist with need. And you thought he was shameless before. You lifted your champagne glass to the toast, but clinking glasses was a whole lot more difficult considering Agent Peña had inched his way up and made himself comfortable on your inner thigh.

It was getting more and more difficult to ignore the warm tingle between your legs, the way Javier’s touch was leaving your skin uncomfortably tingly.

Feeling the heat rise up your neck and burn the shell of your ears you dropped your gaze from the rest of your companions, grateful when they turned their attention to the ceremony. The lights dimmed to signal the welcome speaker to the stage, and you just hoped, prayed they would stay exactly that way the entire evening.

You turned to the dirty old man beside you only half hoping what you were about to say would kick some sense into him. “Are you crazy?! What the fuck are you doing?” A few inches up and he’d be fingering you at the table-

your heart pounded in realization.

His hand slipped under the veil of your dress, his smile dripping with condescension as he leaned beside your ear– whisper hot and deep and heavy. “Wanted it so bad didn’t ya babydoll? Now you’re gonna take it, and you better stay fucking quiet.” His words went straight to your core. You wanted to respond, but what was there to say? Besides, Colleen had taken the stage already- there was no going back now.

You felt your pulse in your throat. As the crowd broke into applause his rough fingers slipped between your aching folds, immediately drenched with your slick. Still looking forward he raised his brows, biting back a smile at how wet you were for him. Few more minutes and you’d be sliding off the damn chair.

Instinctively, you shifted forward on your chair, willing him closer. You swallowed a whimper when he pinched your thigh– hard this time, and shot you a deadly look of warning. You’d flown too close to the sun, and now you were in no position to negotiate with him.

His fingers moved to draw gentle soft circles on your clit, eyes completely focused on Neils little end of year debrief. He worked agonizingly slow, rubbing you just enough to keep building that pool of desire burning in your belly.

You had to fight the extreme urge to grind against his hand, his feather light touches making you break into a cold sweat. Folding forward you rested your head against your hand, screwing your eyes shut in an effort to block out the buzz that had taken over your whole body.

Neil said something marginally funny, and your table broke into laughter– forcing a strained chuckle out of your throat. Javier kept going, no regard for the fact that you were shifting and squirming in your seat with need. You hoped it was convincing enough to draw attention away from your labored breaths.

His digits slipped further back, barely teasing your leaking entrance. You gasped, but quickly realized your faux pas, and covered it up with the most convincing cough you could muster. Noonan turned around– concerned as ever the poor woman, as did Bill and his wife Brenda.

“You alright?” you nodded, voice strained. “Sorry, allergies”. Javier the pervert that he was didn’t plan on easing up on you, just returned his attention to your aching clit. With the three of them looking directly at you. “I think I need some water”. You attempted to evade his hold and escape– hoping he’d get the message and finish what he started outside.

Your plans however, were immediately trampled upon, with the ever chivalrous Javier speaking up. “Oh you can have mine, wouldn’t want to miss the speech.” He pushed his glass of water towards you with two fingers, eyes finding yours, lips twitching into a smile.

It felt like hours, you had no clue what the hell was happening around you– so utterly focused on trying to curtail your moans. You’d finished your champagne a while ago, but were dizzy thanks to Javier's moving digits.

Fast for a moment, then slower, he rubbed your sopping cunt like it was the most normal thing in the world. Everytime you looked at him he made sure to ignore you, knowing full well that one glance under the thin cover off your table cloth and anyone would be privy to your debauchery.

As if things couldn't get any more scandalous, your dad turned towards him. He asked Javier a question, and the agent responded more enthusiastically than he ever had.

Unable to look at the man you kept your gaze fixed on your empty glass of champagne, burning with humiliation. Part of you, a bigger part than you’d like to admit, secretly seemed to enjoy the entire ordeal. After all he’d put you through you couldn’t help but tip your hat at Javier’s absolute nerve.

Just barely, he slipped a thick finger in your dripping hole, curling it ever so slightly as he continued to engage your father in conversation. The maniac that he was Javier looked the ambassador right in the eyes– like he wan’t finger fucking his only daughter under their dinner table.

A bead of sweat rolled down your neck, the whole room looking disorderly. You were beginning to see double. As if not to provide you too much relief he slipped his finger out of your dripping cunt, teasing your inner thighs.

So close, you were so close, just on the brink of no return, but you couldn’t cum – for more reasons than one. It was all too much, and you were overheating, and you felt dizzy. You didn't realize your breathing had quickened, and so did his fingers. You heard someone call your name, but couldn’t make out who exactly it was.

Falling forward and into a fit of coughs you screwed your eyes shut. Zoning in and out of consciousness you attempted to focus on your father’s face as he called out for you. Javier’s hand had settled on your thigh once again, rubbing soothing circles in an attempt to calm you down.

“Jesus Christ, are you okay?” Catching your breath you swallowed thickly, watching as your dad prepared to get up from his seat. From the looks of it he must have thought you were dying. If you were in any condition to, you would have stopped him yourself. It would only make things worse than they already were.

Lucky for you a hand on his shoulder promptly intercepted him.

Javier leaned in his direction. Nodding towards the stage. “Your speech ambassador.” He looked towards you, sweaty and hot all thanks to him. “I'll handle it.” That bastard. He knew your dads vices just as well as you did– completely confident he could never abandon his chance at addressing the captive audience of his employees, no matter how important the interruption.

More swiftly than you’d like to admit he helped your shaky legs out of your chair. You haphazardly pulled and tugged at the hem of your dress, nervous it was doing little to cover you up.

“Thank you Agent Peña.” In the midst of your extreme desperation you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. What kind of man, father, let some stranger watch his daughter– who by the looks of it was pretty much on the verge of a heart attack? Sure, it would have foiled your secret little plan, but christ it would be nice if he could hold up the caring father act a little longer.

“Let's get you some air sweetheart” The fucker smiled so sweetly it made you want to deck him in the face, but boy were you itching to get outta that ballroom. He let you walk in front of him, putting himself between the dress that barely concealed your wet, swollen, bare pussy, and anyone else’s prying eyes.

Once you were out of eyeshot he practically dragged you outside, pushing you roughly against the back of the building. He caged you against the wall, ripping that pathetic excuse of a cover up right of where you were holding it against your body. “Oh babydoll, you still pretendin’ you need that shitty blazer”. It was only then you realized how cold the evening was.

“See that-” he held up his hand, fingers coating with your slick. “See what a desperate brat y’are” You were dripping for him, you could feel it on the insides of your thighs, you didn’t necessarily need a reminder.

Bringing his fingers to your mouth he ran them across your lips, the taste of your own arousal now heady on your tongue. “Jus’ for you.” Looking up at him through your lashes you slurred your words. Unintentionally sounding a lot more dumb and drunk than you intended.

“Oh really?” Unimpressed, he grabbed your face, and roughly tugged you towards him. “Don’t think so honey” Before you could think you were being spun to face the wall you had you back against moments ago. He was practically scolding you.

“not when you showed up in this flimsy lil dress, tits and ass out for the whole world to see.” The disgust was evident in his tone, but the both of you knew he had just as much part to play in this whole deal as you did. He pressed your face against it, one hand more than enough to hold you there while the other found the hem of your dress– fiddling with it. A cool breeze brushed your skin when he flipped it over.

“Look at that-” running two fingers against your folds, he admired the mess between your thighs. Your slick glistened against your skin obscenely in the moonlight, and if the way Javier chuckled behind you was any indication, he sure as hell seemed proud to be the one responsible for the mess.

You ached for him. Tension only building by the moment.

“So goddamn needy, ready to cum on my fingers in front of that damn whole room.” The flesh of your ass was left stinging in the wake of his hand that came down harshly against you. Sounding both exasperated and prideful you felt his breath tickle your ear as he spoke.

“Felt so good.” It came out broken and whimpery, and had him pressing against you with a chuckle. You felt him grind against your ass, hard and heavy. Desperate already, every moment left empty only made you more of a brat. Your hand snaked behind you and between your bodies to haphazardly tug at his belt, but he promptly grabbed your wrist, and twisted it till you yelped.

Chuckling beside your ear he slapped your ass yet again. “Just can’t help yourself, can you, babydoll?” Upper body pressed flush between his expansive chest and the wall you shivered. The warmth of Javier’s body was the only thing between you and the cold, cold night.

“dumb” smack “slut” smack.

You felt your cunt spasm around nothing, if he was looking to get back at you it was working. In an effort to catch a glimpse of him, you turned your cheek. “Need you so bad” your whole body was hot with desire, voice so full of want.

With a strong hold on your waist, he firmly squeezed before deftly flipping you towards him once again. Your back hit the wall and his hands flew to cup your cheeks. He brushed his thumbs over your cheek bones, mocking your pout with one of his own.

“Oh babydoll, I know.” murmuring, he trailed his knuckles along the valley between your breasts. Pinching the fabric of your neckline between his fingers he inspected it. His twinkling eyes met yours again. “I know, ‘s okay, babydoll.” God you loved hearing that name. The flimsy strap fell off your shoulder, and he took the opportunity to pull it down, revealing your bare chest to the chilly evening breeze.

You shuddered, feeling your nipples pebble under his soft touch. The view must really be something– especially with the way he sucked in a breath, reveling in it with a sigh. “Lucky you’re so fucking pretty”. You meweled when you felt him squeeze your breast in his palm, then bend down to kiss along your neck. His little backhanded compliments making you dizzy.

“Cuz’ you can’t fucking think straight” He dragged his lips to the base of your jaw.

“Been all over me the whole fuckin’ day” his teeth grazed your earlobe before he placed a kiss behind your ear. “Beggin’ for my attention?” his voice dropped three octaves, and despite all the shamelessness you’d shown, the heat rose to your cheeks. There was no doubt he felt it on your scorching skin.

“Wanted to make your pops mad huh?” Your dress bunched up over your hips as he lifted you, legs wrapping tightly around his waist. He took the chance to slip his hands under it, trying to feel any part of you he could expose.

Your lips met his in a frantic kiss– raw from how you'd been biting them all night, letting him lick into your mouth. Somewhere along the way he’d undone his belt, and you felt his cock rest heavy against the inside of your thigh. “Gonna fuck all this brat outta ya’ jus’ like ya need babydoll.” The ache between your legs was nearly unbearable. He looked so handsome, skin illuminated by the moonlight, hair completely disheveled thanks to how you’d run your fingers through it.

His hands grabbed your thighs, lifting you ever so slightly to ease you onto his cock. The growl that left his lips was nothing short of animalistic. Your mouth fell agape in a wordless cry at the stretch of him. Big and thick inside of you. The feeling of finally being full beginning to satisfy the burning desire that had been ablaze in your core for the past hour.

Javier didn’t waste time, hips slamming into yours quick and steady immediately. The drag of his cock against your wet walls had you throwing your head back, the two of you engulfed in a bubble of hot moans and breathy sighs.

“This what you wanted? Wanted to get fucked against the wall like a hooker?” He forced your eyes to meet his, fingers gripping your chin roughly. He watched you intently, taking in every flutter of your eyes, tick in your jaw, bite of your lip. “Y- yes- god”

“Fuck, takin’ this cock so well.” Your back arched against the flat of the wall, tits bouncing with every thrust of his hips. The feeling was like no other– knowing he was staring down at your body– the sight of your clothes half off you, eyes clouded and barely open, lips parted.

You felt his cock twitch inside you.

One hand gripping your thigh, the other plastered to the wall beside your head he pounded into your aching cunt. His broad frame engulfed you in a little cocoon of your own, broad shoulders slumped forward.

You made out a muffled voice from inside– your dad going on about something along the lines of “his lovely daughter, who getting through the year would be impossible without.” If only he knew.

Seemed like Javier also took notice– a sarcastic chuckle slipping past his lips.

“Hear that baby girl? Think he knows what his ‘good girl’s doin’ out here” You shook your head vehemently, smiling at the thought your father was inside preaching the gospel while his daughter was getting railed by the one man he couldn't stand– like one of his back alley hookers. You moaned between your little laughs– constantly cut off by the feeling of his cock nudging that sweet spot inside you.

You took his bottom lip gently between your teeth, then released it before nipping at his jaw. “Fucking brat”. He groaned– low and breathy, smiling against your lips. “Think he knows his good girls gettin’ fucked by a guy twice her age?”

“Not his good girl” In the midst of your breathless whining, you tugged him closer, head shaking vehemently. The hand that had been beside your head came to cup your breast. He looked so proud it sent your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Yeah, that’s right. ‘s cause you're my dumb slut aren’t you?” Approvingly, he brought his large hand to wrap around your neck, swallowing your moans in a kiss. You nodded your head frantically– it took a whole lot more effort with his hand wrapped firmly around your throat, pinning your head against the wall, but you managed it.

“Think he can hear you begging for my cock, babydoll?” His nose brushed yours as he murmured suggestively against your slack lips. Probably feeling how your cunt squeezed around him he made the correct assessment that you were enjoying every little bit of this debauched encounter. “Little slut.” His hips slammed against yours, your back grazing the brick wall behind you as you bounced on his cock.

“Don’t care.” Even when he was fucking you like a back alley slut the prospect of making him feel good was enough to quell your conscience. Besides being able to spite your dad, you were thoroughly enjoying his attention, his praise, the way he liked calling you babydoll when he was making you cum on his cock.

“Fuck, so goddamn tight-” he nipped at your neck. “wouldn’t think it huh babydoll? Not with the way you’re whoring yourself around” His words disoriented you and you tightened your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer– deeper as you neared your release. You felt your pussy flutter around his cock, each slam of his hips having his tip brush your sweet spot.

“Gonna cum” it came out a squeak as you flung your arms around his neck, raking your fingerings through his hair– tugging and pulling, just grappling at anything to cope with the heat between your legs. He rested his forehead against yours, forcing your gaze towards him. “Dirty little thing. Cum all over my cock. Show me how much you wanted it– come on.”

You fell forward, buried your face in the crook of his neck as you came undone, walls pulsing around him. “Fuckin hell, squeezing me so fucking good, babydoll.” Spaced out you rode out your high, body shivering with the aftershocks as he continued to fuck your sensitive pussy. He pinned your head against the wall with his hand around your throat once again, needing to see the sight of you.

The feeling of your cunt gushing around his cock had his hips stuttering against yours. You felt him throb inside you– he was so close. He screwed his eyes shut. “Where you want it babydoll?”

You weren't really sure what exactly came over you, but the words were leaving your mouth before you could even register them. “my face.” At first, he looked at you a little incredulously, but after he’d had a moment to register he seemed more than inclined to give you what you wanted. “Really are a whore aren't you?”

He quickly, but steadily let go of your thighs, and took a step back to make room for you infront of him.

You swiftly lowered yourself to your knees, taking his cock, wet with both his and your arousal, past your lips. “Fuckin’ where you belong” He grabbed the back of your head, thrusting into your warm, wet mouth. You felt the tip of him nudge the back of your throat. Tears stung the back of your eyes, then smudged your mascara and rolled down your cheeks in thick opalescent drops.

“Aint that right babydoll?” you hummed around him, attempting to take him as far back as you could. He didn’t spare you any sympathy, guiding you over his cock in harsh motions, and seemingly egged on by the way you choked and spluttered around him. Your hands flew to grip his thighs.

“S’ all it takes to shut ya up?” You whined around his length, hollowing your cheeks and gazing into his hooded eyes. The gravely, sandy ground scraped against your bare knees, even more so when you shifted slightly closer to Javier. Little grains left their indents on your skin. You felt them bruise with each movement.

In the moment he eased his grip on the back of your head and you released him with a pop. You took him in your hand, stroking the length of him and suckling at the head, voice slightly hoarse from the friction.

“Please daddy, need it so bad” You whimpered, gazing up at him through wet lashes. He exhaled deeply, brows furrowed, and lips parted. You caught him completely off guard with that one, but judging by the look on his face you’d hit the jackpot.

He cursed under his breath. “Holy shit” Closing your eyes you fluttered your tongue against him, relishing his groans as he hit his release. You felt his cock pulse and throb in your hand, cum hitting your face in hot spurts as he rode out his high. Thrusting into your fist.

You swirled your tongue around the head, kissing his tip. When you opened your eyes you found him intently watching his spend trickle down your chin and down the valley between your breasts. Your tongue darted out to lick your swollen lips, and he visibly suppressed a groan at the action.

“Goddamn” You could barely make out what he said the way he was catching his breath. Sighing, he stroked your head affectionately, almost petting you. You dodged his hand, then stood back up on your feet, albeit wobbly, as he tucked himself back into his dress pants.

“There is no way in hell I'm going back inside that shit hole.” You said matter of factly and watched as he bent down to pick up your discarded blazer– now lightly dusted with white sand, and tried his best to brush it off.

“Like hell you aren’t. What am I supposed to tell your dad? That you're busy cleaning my cum off your cute face?” You don't think you could get tired of hearing him call you cute.

It was like he was trying to cover up for some horrendous crime he’d just committed– fixing his tie, running his fingers through his hair, smoothing his hand over his wrinkled button up. It was quite funny seeing him half panicked yet completely incapable of keeping himself away.

When you pulled him towards you his collar felt slightly damp in your hands where your fists had grabbed it. You tightened his tie, fixing the dimple in it. His nose barely touched yours. Unable to keep your eyes away from his lips, you brushed your thumb at their corner as you spoke. “Don't tell him that just yet. Wanna be there to see the look on his face when he figures it out.”

“Jesus Christ”

His eyes blackened yet again, and you could already see the little urge to press you right back against the wall for the second time. He rubbed your cheek with his thumb and index, letting his cum coat his fingers before he was pressing them into your mouth. Your lips wrapped around his digits as you obediently sucked, looking up at him the way you had on your knees moments ago.

“Dirty little girl.” You couldn't tell if he was surprised or in disbelief, whatever the look was it suited him. He draped your blazer over your shoulders, discreetly scanning your surroundings for passersbys. “Now get the fuck outta here”

“‘Night night Agent Peña, see ya tomorrow..” You pressed your lips against his, letting him taste himself against them and swallow one last whimper when he grabbed your hips. The fabric of your dress crumpled and rode up your thighs impossibly as he squeezed your flesh. He lightly squeezed your ass once more for good measure.

Unsurprisingly you felt a lot of pride as you walked, rather limped, on the path towards your little villa. Even more so when you turned around to catch Javier, exhausted and distressed, leaning his forehead against the wall he’d just fucked you against.

The boys, the girls

They all like Carmen

She gives them butterflies, bats her cartoon eyes

She laughs like God

Her mind's like a diamond

Audiotune lies

She's still shining

Like lightning, whoa-whoa

White lightning

🍓 Part II

Gonna burn in hell for this one but it was worth it. I hope you lovelies enjoyed. Again this is part one of three so we’ll be getting more of these nasties don’t you worry. Please let me know what you think, your comments mean the world. Thank you to everyone who reblogs my work you keep me writing! Dividers and banners by @ saradika 💗🐝✨

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