#in spanish ofc

[lizaisdrawing]

Collection of sketches, that I will possibly render later.

[gael-garcia]

Gael García Bernal on the existential aspect of the Spanish language

[fl00mie]

honestamente, no sé

to prevent confusions i'm giving credits of every fankid in order (starting with the tall one)

layden (fresh x ink fankid) by @/sugary-alienn dot (cross x ink fankid) by @/yo-honne abstract (reaper x ink fankid) by CATA-824 on wattpad gradient (error x ink fankid) by @/askcomboclub paper jam (error x ink fankid) by @/7goodangel palette (dream x ink fankid) by @/angeutblogo blueprint (swap x ink fankid) by @/pepper-mint aiden (zack x ink fankid) by ariscastleart

[alexturntable]

Charles Leclerc answering the most searched questions about him on Sky Sports F1 via leclercsletters

[lokischocolatefountain]

Separation

Series Masterlist

Fandom: Narcos

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+ (*slaps the roof of this fic* This bad boy can fit so much smut, angst and fluff in it)

Word count: 8.4k words wtf

Summary: The last time Javier Peña saw his wife was almost three weeks ago in Steve Murphy’s apartment. He’d finally done it. He’d fucked up the only good thing in his life, driven her away with his neglect.

A/N: Why is it that whenever I write Javi, there’s angst? What is it about this beautiful pathetic man with big brown eyes (and big strong arms) that makes me want to hurt and comfort him? Also, if any of you want to be tagged the next time I post Javi (or just husband Javi) lmk and I’ll make a tag list.

The last time Javier Peña saw his wife was in Steve Murphy’s apartment, holding a sleeping baby Olivia Murphy on her lap as she consoled an anxious Connie Murphy. That night, he’d finally brought his partner home to his wife and child. Relieved, he went home only to find a note from his wife by his bedside informing him that she would be staying with a friend for a while. No explanations, no phone calls. Just a note.

That was almost three weeks ago.

Her side of the bed stayed untouched. Her bedside table was unusually empty without her novel of the week on it. When he reached out for her in his sleep, his heart craving the familiar comfort of her touch, he found it cold and empty. He’d wake up with a start, unaccustomed to an empty bed even though he’d spent all his bachelor life before her sleeping by himself. It was as though married life had been a cruel fantasy he was awoken from to be forced back into the reality of his lonely existence.

No matter how many times he longed to call her friend’s landline, he couldn’t bring himself to dial the number. She’d been by his side ever since he asked her to move in with him. Undying loyalty, a shoulder to lean on, a body to hold when he awoke from nightmares. She deserved a break from him.

The refrigerator sometimes had boxes of meals for him, his whiskey glass was chilled, her laundry done and dried for him to fold up. Dishes left in the sink for him to wash. He had a wife and she did come by the apartment but never when he was there too. She’d been like a ghost, slipping in and out and probably through walls without his notice.

Their anniversary came and went. Still no sign of her.

It wasn’t their wedding anniversary. It was the anniversary of their first date. That was not something they celebrated like they did their wedding anniversary but her absence made him remember and it fucking stung.

He’d finally done it. He’d fucked up the only good thing in his life, driven her away with his neglect. She gave him everything and asked for nothing. Not even the bare minimum. Her parents had begged her for a proper wedding and he couldn’t even give her that. She married him at the embassy and went home alone in the short white dress she bought herself from a regular store as he went off on some fucking raid that ended up failing anyway. She watched as her friends had weddings and baby showers and children while he kept her stuck in the same place in life.

And she was finally gone. After putting up with everything, she’d slowly disappeared from his life without him even noticing it.

Javi found himself outside her classroom. He’d walked into the English Literature department, opened her drawer and checked her schedule, ignoring the questioning staff with the same practiced authority he had as DEA agent.

For the first time, he took in the force that was Professor Peña in action. He knew she was a fucking genius. But to see her command the classroom’s attention was something else.

On one of their first nights together, he’d put his head on her lap and closed his eyes as she played with her hair and asked her unashamedly to read her book out loud to him. He had a reputation of being an asshole, of sleeping around a lot. There was an image of him being a callus man who hopped from one bed to the next. It couldn’t be further from the truth. He gave bits and pieces of his heart to every woman he slept with, he asked personal questions, kissed foreheads and comforted them over their troubles. He lied on the lap of the woman he would one day marry and asked her to read him a bedtime story of how Anna Karenina fell out of love with Alexei and in love with Vronsky. Javier may have been an asshole in others’ eyes, but on her lap, he was the man who kept his parents’ easy intimacy in the back of his head as he looked up at her and wondered if he could have something like that with her.

As she engaged the classroom in a discussion about Frankenstein’s creation, he witnessed everyone around him fall for her just as he did. He watched as she pulled them into discussions and got them involved in passionate debates amongst themselves about the nature of the creature. She was the perfect leader, knowing just how to steer the large group, get the stubborn young people to question their world views and lead them to answers to questions they didn’t even know they had.

She was a wonder.

If this was all he could have of her, he would take it. If she wouldn’t come home to him anymore, he would show up to her classes and sit in the back seat just to hear her voice and see her eyes twinkle with passion.

She didn’t notice him, her attention reserved for the students who asked questions and argued their points passionately. He had to wait until they’d all submitted their papers to her and had a little conversation to continue their discussions. He’d never seen students so reluctant to leave a classroom. He couldn’t blame them; he didn’t want to leave either. Only when most of her class had shuffled out did he have the courage to approach her desk.

He stood there, making no sounds, just fidgeting with his right hand as he tried to find the courage in him to speak to the professor who was counting the number of essays that had been submitted to her.

“Sorry, I have to get home now. Office hours are before class on Monday,” she said, not even looking up at him.

“Sure, if that’s the only way I’ll get to see you.”

She stilled mid-count, letting go of the papers as she looked up at him. She opened and closed her mouth, as though swallowing everything she thought to say.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, finally.

He shrugged and managed a half-smile. “Had to catch you somehow.”

When she said nothing, he continued, “Where do you go when you tell your students you’re going home? Because you don’t come to ours.”

He carried her papers, her handbag and her lunch bag to the jeep. As though he had to confiscate all her belongings to make sure she’d actually come home with him. As though he was afraid she’d slip through his fingers like the sicarios he chased.

Her hand didn’t cross the physical space between them. Her head rested against the glass of the window and her eyes were closed. She didn’t reach over to switch the radio on, didn’t ask him about his day, didn’t reach over to pinch his cheek or steal his aviators.

“Talk to me,” he said, his voice shaking as he realized he didn’t want to hear whatever it was she had to say. He wasn’t prepared for the harsh truths. All he wanted was to take her to bed and kiss her all over and hold her tight so that she would never leave. He wanted to cry like a little boy begging his dad to not leave for work because he would miss him too much during the day. He wanted to overwhelm her with his love, manipulate her mind into taking him back though he couldn’t admit to himself that at some point she apparently stopped wanting to keep him.

His hand was on her knee as he sat at her feet and looked up at her face expectantly for her to speak. It wouldn’t have taken him more than a second to get on his knees. He was no religious man. That stopped the day he buried his Ma. But he would get on his knees again and pray to her to stay, to be his benevolent goddess and forgive his sins for the nth time.

“I don’t know what I did, I really don’t,” his voice cracked as he confessed. “But it must’ve been something terrible for you to stop coming home.” It shamed him to discover that he had become the man he promised himself he would never be. One of those inattentive men who’d grown so comfortable in the kindnesses of their wife that they’re shocked when she decides she has had enough. Neglect killed love. And he had been neglecting her, leaving her alone most days and most nights as he traveled back and forth between Bogotá and Medellin.

She stared at him, her expressions indiscernible. She accepted his hands when he placed them on hers, the small action giving him hopes. “Whatever it is, I’ll fix it,” he begged, holding on tight. He needed her to believe him.

She shook her head and looked down at her lap. “It’s not— you didn’t do anything wrong.”

After relief came surprise. He hadn’t done something wrong this time? The relief was quickly replaced by worry. If he was the cause of her running away from him, he could handle that. He could change himself, fix whatever within was wrong to make her come home again. But it was something else, someone else…

“What is it, then?” He asked, cupping her cheek and gently directing her to look at him instead of her lap or the walls. “Is it work? Are your parents doing well back home?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing.”

He inhaled and rubbed his eyes. “It can’t be nothing. You left me. You packed up your bags and left. I think I deserve an explanation.”

She let out a sigh. “I’ll come back then.”

His hand curled into a fist and his jaw clenched. So that was it? All he had to do was ask? Her easy compliance made him want to throw something at the wall.

He got off the ground where he was knelt at her feet and began pacing across the room.

He expected some resistance when he barged into her workplace uninvited and demanded that she come with him. He expected— no, hoped for a fight for it would give him answers for her sudden disappearance. But she just walked with him to the parking lot, no questions asked. And now she just agreed to move back in. All because he demanded answers.

“Fucking tell me!” He yelled, his hand fidgeting at his side.

“I don’t want to fight,” she said, her voice too calm for the gravity of the situation. Like this didn’t fucking matter.

Oh, you don’t wanna fight? You don’t wanna fucking fight? You fucking ran off and you don’t want to—

“I don’t either, but you’re making it very hard to not do that.”

He heard her take in a deep breath before he heard the unmistakable whispers of sniffling. Great. Fucking amazing. Now, he’d gone and made her cry.

Her sounds of despair were enough for his rage to evaporate off him. He rushed back to her side and pulled her to his chest, forcing comfort upon her in the hope that it would serve as a salve to whatever wounds he’d ripped open. To his relief, she didn’t push him away. But she didn’t pull him close like she always did when he embraced her. Things had changed and he hadn’t even noticed it happening. All he could do now was hope that whatever this rift was between them, he could patch it back together.

—————————

Even in the blistering heat of Bogotá, Javier chose to keep his wife pressed to his chest when he slept. She was disgusted by their sweat combining and their clothes sticking to their bodies, but she indulged his need for closeness. She knew he loved with his body and she accepted his love, in all its sweaty sticky mess.

So he had no choice but to interpret the chasm between them on their marital bed as her rejection of his love.

As soon as he brought her back home, he had to leave for Medellin. Any hopes for setting things right had been crushed when he had to leave from work straight to the other city. He’d called home before he left, informing he would be gone for a long time once again. She didn’t say much, just hemmed and hawed before asking him to be safe out there. No exaggerated smooching sounds to make him laugh, no promises of what would be awaiting him when he came back home to her, no I love you before she said goodbye.

Over ten days after the call, he was back but without any of the feelings of satisfaction he usually had when coming home to her. Instead, there was just dread. She met him at the door as usual and wrapped her arms around him, but she separated without a kiss. The cracks in the foundations of their marriage ran deeper than he’d feared.

“Hey,” he whispered awkwardly when she finally opened her eyes. She stilled, her head jerking up as though surprised he was there.

“Hey,” she replied, her voice groggy from sleep as she shuffled under her blanket.

“I missed you so much, mi amor…” he said carefully, afraid that anything he might say would snap the last thread that held them together. His hand slowly crept into the space between them, an offering to share the littlest bit of marital comforts.

“Missed you too, Javi,” she conceded, not taking his hand but settling for playing with his fingers. He allowed her to lead, giving what little contact she took from him and taking back only as much, afraid to cross any lines.

Her nails were uncharacteristically unkempt. The woman he knew did not tolerate chipped nail polish, wiping all her nails with acetone when the paint began chipping off. Almost all her nails except her pinky had chipped paint now. Her thumbnail was bare.

“May I paint your nails?” He asked, hopeful. She nodded and he left their bed in search of the box in which she kept all her manicure tools and paints.

When they sat together on bed as he took the pink off her nails, they were closer. He handled her hands with care, refusing to scrub too harshly even when the pieces of glitter clung to her as stubbornly as he did. Manicures were something she got done from salons, but she painted her own nails just as often. She said it calmed her.

He then brought the glass file to her nails, reducing them to a shorter oval shape the way she liked them. Any longer and she found it hard to use her typewriter. He made sure to file the edges in the same direction, recalling that she’d told him filing in opposite directions was not good for nail health. He repositioned her hand in his, turning it left and right as he evaluated his work. Satisfied with the shape, he brought his lips to the finger, his eyes remaining on hers the entire time to check for any signs of rejection. He pressed little kisses from her fingertip to her wrist, relishing in the shy smiles she rewarded him with.

He repeated his work with the other nails and then used the little wooden stick she had to push her cuticles back in preparation for the paint. The shower would wash it off soon, but he still slathered some moisturizer on her hands, using it as an excuse to massage her hands. He pushed the excess cream beyond her wrists and up her arms.

He kissed the back of her hand and looked up at her, her eyes clouded with sleep and something else, her plush lips parting as his own traveled up her arm. “You feel so good, baby, so soft,” he praised, making her shudder. When he reached the sleeve of his t-shirt that she liked wearing to bed, he pulled it down, exposing her shoulder. As he neared her neck, she cradled his head in her hand, guiding him by his hair to place kisses where she wanted them. His lips went willingly, loving her up in every spot she took him to. She was all sweat, citrus shampoo and the jasmine of the lotion he’d rubbed on her. He breathed her in, her scent being his choice of drug.

She pulled him back from her neck, gazing at his lips before closing her eyes and leaning forward. He brushed the tip of his nose against hers, making her giggle. He smiled before leaning in again but kissing her chin.

“Javi,” she whined as he kissed along her jaw and the corners of her lips and even her nose, refusing to press his lips to hers.

“Yeah, baby?” He asked, feigning innocence. But she knew him too well to believe the act.

“Jodón.”

“Tell me what you want.” He demanded, craving the feeling of being wanted. He needed to know that she needed him just like he needed her, that she wasn’t just capitulating to his desires, that she desired him.

“Kiss me.”

He found himself grinning as he took her face in his hands and tilted his head, unhurried in how he grazed her lips with his. She took initiative, pressing her lips to his. She consumed him, not like a starving woman but like one ready to savor each second of her meal. He let one hand wander down her back, caressing her through the thin fabric but not daring to slip it under her t-shirt. He needed her to take this at her pace, unaffected by his greed and desperation to have all of her. It was fantastic how just a kiss from her could make him feel his heart beating for her.

He’d kissed other women before her and he enjoyed all those times. But with her, it was different. It wasn’t the first step in fucking, wasn’t a means to an end. When he kissed her, he wasn’t a lonely man trying to imitate a deeper intimacy he’d never had merely to quell his yearning for connection. In her lips, he found not just the thrill of desire, but the safety of home.

The first time he kissed her, every other kiss ceased to exist and she’d become the only one. Everyone he kissed after that first kiss left him unsatisfied. None of them tasted like her, didn’t send jolts of electricity through him, didn’t make his heart leap out of his chest.

She mewled into the kiss as his tongue danced with hers, giving in to her exploration of his mouth as she pulled him closer to herself. Taking her sounds as encouragement, he tangled his hands into her hair. He poured a month’s worth of longing into the kiss, asking with each sigh and moan ‘Can you feel how I yearn for you? Can you not feel how you broke me when you left and put me back together with just this kiss?’

She pulled back first and he found himself panting, taking in the air he didn’t know he was depriving himself of. He pounced back, needing her more than he needed oxygen. He took her lips between his, pushing her head into the headboard as he pulled her into a heated kiss. One hand roamed his shoulder and then his arms, up and down and driving him mad as the other rested over his heart. He brought a hand to hers, trapping hers over his heart. He felt lightheaded as she staved him of air, but he happily drowned in her. He needed her to feel him, feel how his heart beat to her tune, how it missed having her head rest on it as they slept in each other’s arms.

“Please, Javi. Need you…” she broke off to whisper. He placed one last kiss to her lips before he slid down the bed, pulling her to the edge before pulling her shorts off her. He dove in and licked her through her panties, savoring the taste of her wetness on the cotton. Her hand found his hair and tugged gently.

“You have no fucking idea how much I’ve missed having you, querida…” he said, placing a kiss between her legs.

“I miss you so much, Javi…”

“No, you don’t know,” he insisted, angered that she would claim to have missed him after she left him. If you missed me so much, why didn’t you come back? He pressed his thumb on her clit, pressed a bit harder than she liked and she whined.

“I’m sorry!”

“You left. You walked out on me, didn’t tell me shit and I was fucking miserable,” he confessed, passing on the hurt right back to her. She mumbled a few more apologies, but nothing would be enough until he got to take her again.

“Gonna let me show you how much I missed you, baby?” He asked, placing kisses on her belly. “Gonna let me make love to you?”

“Yes, yes, please. Need youuu—” she cried as he pushed the cotton of her panty aside to lick her.

“You need me?” He asked, licking her again. God, how he missed his favorite taste. “Did you miss my cock like I missed this pussy, baby?”

She nodded, but that wasn’t enough for him. He needed to know from her lips, needed her to scream for the entire city to know how she missed his touch. He pushed her legs back together and pulled her panties off before setting it aside. He wrapped his lips around her and sucked on her clit, exacting the sweetest little sounds from her.

“I need to hear you.”

“Missed you, Javi. Missed your cock,” she confessed, tightening around his finger as she did. He wished he had his cock inside her as he made her tell him how much she missed it. He would pull more confessions out of her with a promise of an orgasm and he knew she would say anything he wanted.

“You have ruined me, mi amor. Can’t make myself cum just as good anymore without this pussy. Hate my own fucking hand.” He praised before he lapped and laved at her core, licking her up as he made her wetter and wetter for him.

“I sneaked your panties out of the laundry hamper, took it with me to Medellin like a fucking creep,” he confessed, unsure if her cry of his name was the work of his fingers or the confession of his depravity. “The pink one with the stripes, covered in you from when you touched yourself, when you kept this cunt to yourself and kept me away. I needed to smell it when I wrapped my fist around my cock and imagined I was fucking you.”

She clenched around his finger and that sent a rush through him. “That make you feel good, Cariño? Knowing you’ve turned me into a fucking pervert?”

“Javi, baby please…” she cried as he busied his lips once again with her cunt. He would’ve left her pussy lips for the lips that cried his name so prettily but she kept him down with her hand on his hair. She fucked herself on his fingers, gasping when he added a third one to stretch her out further.

His idle hand traveled up her body, its every nerve ending enjoying having her tremble beneath him once again. He took his time, roaming everywhere, feeling every inch of skin that he would soon trap under him as he fucked her for the first in a long time. This was the longest they’d gone without each other ever since they decided to pursue what they had for real. Even with his job being the way it was, he managed to come to Bogota every now and then to have her.

She wrapped her legs around him, trapping his head with her thighs as she dug the heel of her foot into his back. He growled into her cunt as she thrust up into him, fucking his mouth and his fingers at the same time. She still wanted him in between her legs if nowhere else and if he had to, he would fuck her into staying with him forever.

A few more minutes of licking and sucking and she was pulsating around his fingers, her thighs setting enough pressure on him to make him fear that she might crush him. With a cry of his name, she came for him, coating him in her juices. He drank up all of her, not showing any restraint.

She pulled him up by his hair and he obeyed, kissing her lips to bless her with her deliciousness. He dipped his tongue into her mouth, meeting her tongue as she moaned with her own taste. He placed his hand over her collarbones, smearing her all over the place before he crept up and held her neck as he relished in the vibrations of her moans.

He gasped into the kiss as she wrapped her hand around him through his boxers. He grabbed her wrist and held her in place, keeping her from stroking his cock. It’d been too long since he had her and he wasn’t going to waste this morning by coming in his fucking underwear.

“Let me have you, baby,” he begged, dipping down to her neck to lick up her cum that he had smeared over her. He wasn’t going to let any of her go to waste.

“Yes, fuck!” She reached into his boxers and took him out, painfully hard and already leaking precum. He licked and sucked the skin until it was marred from his attention.

“Wanna be on top, please,” she begged and he rolled them around, acquiescing to her. She sat up on him, her knees planted on either side of him before taking her t-shirt off to reveal her pretty tits. Before he could reach up for her himself, she took command in taking his hand and placing it on her breast.

“Missed this so much, Javi,” she said as she stroked his cock. He kneaded her breast in his hand, enjoying having the ample flesh in his hands.

“Need to be inside you, please,” he breathed, trying as much as he could to clear his thoughts for if he focused on her hand around his cock and how gorgeous she looked on him, he would burst in an instant.

She obliged, adjusting herself over him before living him up with herself. She let him inside her wet heat, just the tip, before pulling back up. He groaned at the loss of contact, biting down on his lip as she repeated the motion, giving him just a bit of her pussy before pulling away once again.

He grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Don’t fucking tease. I haven’t had you in the longest time, darling. I need—ssss” he hissed as she took him in once more.

“I’m not teasing,” she gasped silently as she allowed a little more of him inside her. “So big, Javi. Haven’t stretched me out like this in s-so long,” she praised as she swallowed him bit by bit. “So fucking thick, gonna ruin me.”

“That’s right, baby… You love this cock, don’t you? Can’t go for anyone else ever again. I’ve made you mine,” he said, moving his other hand to her clit, moaning when she rewarded his touch by gripping him tighter.

“Mmmm love your cock,” she moaned as she struggled to take more of him even though he’d gotten her nice and wet with his fingers and mouth. Poor thing needed time to get used to his girth again after having gone such a long time without him.

“You are so beautiful like this… Look so fucking sinful trying so hard to take all of me, sitting on top of me like that and letting me touch your tits,” he praised as he played with her nipples, pinching and tugging and rolling between his fingers to make her tighten around him. She might have been on top, taking the reins, but he still had control. He knew her body like he knew the communas where he chased men, knew every shortcut, memorized every path, knew where to go to corner and capture them. He could elicit every desired response from her by touching her in the right places and saying the right words. She belonged to him, body and soul, and he enjoyed using every inch of her body to remind her to whom she belonged.

He let her set a slow torturous pace as she adjusted to him, groaning as she finally swallowed him to the hilt. It was pure bliss to be surrounded whole by her, to feel all of her wet, velvety heat. He felt her all over, from the tips of his toes to the top of his head and it was everything. She was everything.

It was sweet torment to be exposed to the cold air of the fan only to be swallowed back up by her hot cunt. He needed her so fucking bad, needed her not just for the carnal pleasures that sex brought but the feeling of home when he found himself buried in her— he needed her to devour him whole and keep him right there, inside her, all hers and nothing else. Only the Javier that belonged to her was worth existing. Everything else he’d become in over three decades of life was insignificant.

Inside the walls of their home, on their marital bed, there was no world outside. She brought him the delusions of safety and he luxuriated in it, allowing himself to forget everything that wasn’t her. The world was just her tight cunt, her tits under his hands and the filthy sounds from her lips as she slowly went from a woman in control to a writhing, moaning mess. He met her halfway with his thrusts when she struggled to keep up on top of him. He sat himself up and pulled her to his chest, giving in as she stole his lips. It was hurried and sloppy as they explored familiar territory, still as excited as the first time they kissed each other. Practiced lovers, savoring the familiar comfort of each other’s lips yet excited to find something new each time.

“Don’t ever leave me,” he begged, holding her face in his hand and making her look at him in the hopes that she would see just how much he meant it. “I can’t, without you… I— I c-can’t, mi amor— Please…”

“I w-won’t,” she managed to stutter out as she grew breathless.

“Promise me,” he demanded even though what he wanted to do was beg.

She opened and closed her mouth, unable to form words as he set a relentless pace, taking over as he thrust into her and thumbed her clit.

“Fucking promise me!” He growled, forcing himself into her in hard, merciless thrusts.

“Aaaah! Ja—”

“You’re mine. You’re fucking mine, get it? This isn’t— We aren’t just da-dating. I’m your husband. You can’t just leave like that.” He forced himself deep and inadvertently hit her cervix. She jolted in his arms and let out a pained cry, letting him know his mistake and he pressed a kiss to her cheek in a silent apology.

“Sorr— hnnng! ‘m sorry Jav—”

A tear slipped down her cheek and he kissed it, tasting her. He breathed her name the way a dying man would call for his god in desperation. He prayed her name, each syllable a request of Save me, never leave me, breathe life into this wretched man.

She pulsated around him, collapsing on his chest and relying on him to hold her up as she reached her peak. She was deadweight in his arms and he held her tight as he reamed into her, her back arching and her hair cascading down her back, shaking from his hard thrusts. She took him along with her, erasing his world and making herself his everything. She had dragged him to the peak of the world and now she was pulling him down and he went with her willingly, taking everything she gave him, getting lost in her body. She was like a breath of air after drowning for eternity, she gave him life, gave him meaning even though she’d been the one to rob him of it.

He wiped her tears and kissed her all over, showering her with all the love he had for her. But it wasn’t enough. No matter how much he poured out, he couldn’t show her the depth of his feelings for her. No words compared, no kisses came close to the place she had in his life. No matter how many times he told her he loved her, she would never know just how much.

“Te amo, Javi,” she broke off from their kiss to whisper. He collapsed on the bed and brought her down with him. He pecked her lips once and then twice before setting his gaze on her eyes.

“Si me amas…” he paused to take a breath. “¿por qué me dejaste? ¿Por qué?”

She looked down at her lap and fidgeted with her rings as she spoke, “Y-yo no quiero perderte.”

He shook his head as he said, “No me perderás. Yo soy tuyo.” He took her hand and placed it on his chest over his heart. “Tuyo.”

She scoffed, her hand curling over his chest. “More Escobar’s than mine at this point.”

“What?”

She shook her head and looked away, avoiding his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to— I shouldn’t complain.”

“No. No, you talk to me. What is this about?”

“We’ll fight if we talk about it. Like Steve and Connie.”

“Do you…? Do you want to leave…? Like Connie did?” He asked, unable to steady his shaking voice. Three weeks with her gone was hell enough. If she wanted to take off permanently, he didn’t know what he would do with himself. Hunting the hijo de puta had become his purpose in life over the past few years. But he now had another important purpose, a woman he’d made promises to. Promises he was insistent on keeping.

She shook her head.

He sighed as he tucked her hair behind her ear, needing to see her without anything in the way. It was fucking frustrating, not knowing what worried her so much that she couldn’t even talk to him about it, that she chose instead to run away from him. But he had to be kind if he wanted her to open up.

He began by caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. Gently, like soothing a wounded child. “Baby… If you don’t tell me what this is about, how am I going to fix it? Hmm?”

“It can’t be fixed,” she said, same as that day.

It took him a moment to know how to answer her.

“When I asked you to marry me, you asked that I give you all of me. Have I not kept that promise?” He asked, knowing that he had so far. No matter how ugly, no matter how broken, he brought home all of himself. To her credit, she accepted him just as he was.

She nodded and said, “you have.”

“Now I’m asking. I want everything, too. Whatever you’re hiding from me that has you worried will make us fight. Is it about my job?”

“I’m sorry,” she said as she nodded, head hung low as tears spilled out.

“No, no, nothing to be sorry about. Just talk to me. What about my job?”

“S-scared.” His chest tightened at the trembling of her voice. Relationships were not something he was comfortable with after he left Lorraine and it was alright for his dangerous new lifestyle as an agent in Colombia. There was no one else he was putting in danger because of his line of work. But then he had to go and fall in love.

It was one of the reasons he proposed to her as soon as he could. Being his wife offered her more legal protection than did being his girlfriend. And knowing that she was it for him, he saw no point in waiting. But she was still afraid for her safety.

He reached out quickly to reassure her.

“I’m here, okay? Our home is safe. Those bastards won’t dare touch you here, won’t dare touch a US federal agent’s wife. I got you,” he whispered into her ear and rubbed her back, hoping to help her relax in his arms. She didn’t. She just tensed.

“‘m not worried about m-myself,” she said softly. “Ever since Steve got kidnapped, I—”

He took in a deep breath and pulled her in closer even though there was no gap between them. What was he supposed to do? Tell her he was safe? Lying wasn’t something he was ready to do in their marriage. Even if he did, she wouldn’t believe him after she had to comfort a panicking Connie. He had the same job as Steve, faced the same dangers. It could be him next. And he might not be lucky enough to come home.

The CNP guys were in much greater danger than he was as an American. Call it gringo privilege. But he couldn’t make promises. He couldn’t promise that a jump from the roof wouldn’t end up terribly. He couldn’t promise that he would never catch a stray bullet. He couldn’t promise that a crazy motherfucker wouldn’t target him for the bragging rights over nabbing a US agent.

Small town sheriff Javier Peña hadn’t thought of all this when he signed up for this job in his mid twenties. There was just an opportunity to run away from a town that hated him— a town he hated more for how it smothered him from all sides as he grew and grew yet it remained small, insignificant. It was his chance to do something great, to be the good guy fighting big bag guys and he took it. He hadn’t been warned that he’d one day be sat holding his sobbing wife, speechless because he couldn’t make the most basic promise— to fucking stay alive.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, the tremble in her voice tugging at his heartstrings.

“No, no. I’m sorry.” Sorry I can’t give you more. Sorry I made you cry. He pulled her into his arms and sat on the couch, cradling her in his lap more for his comfort than hers.

“I shouldn’t complain. I know I married a man with a dangerous job. I signed up for all this, but… ‘m so scared, Javi. I can’t sleep at night. I wake up from nightmares and I lose you every single time. I get scared when I get a call because what if—” she stopped, breaking down into sobs.

There was nothing he could do to fix this, she was correct. The thing that was causing her all this agony was his whole life.

“Do you want me to quit my job?” He asked, regretting it the minute the question left his lips. What if she said yes? What if that was the only way to fix their marriage? He would quit. There was no question about that. But that would mean that almost a decade of his life’s work would be worth nothing. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself. Resentment would break anything they had left between them.

Please don’t ask that of me.

She shook her head and he had to keep himself from letting out a huge sigh of relief.

“Do you know I have students who— I shouldn’t tell you. I’m not on the field like you and I don’t know all the things you know, but I see everyday how he’s fucking ruined lives. I want you to catch that motherfucker. You’re in this fight and I’m not letting you leave it without crushing his blood empire. I just don’t want us to be collateral damage. I can’t bear losing you whether it is to divorce or a bullet. I can’t—” she brought her hand to her lips, biting on her newly shaped nails.

He swallowed, tugging her hand away from her mouth and giving it a kiss. “I can’t make promises about the latter,” he said softly, unable to look her in the eyes as he said it. He didn’t want to know what he did to her with those words. “You know I can’t. But when I die, whether it’s tomorrow or 40 years from now, I’ll die your husband. I don’t do divorce. You might think it’s not a big deal for me, the guy who left his first fiancé at the altar. But trust me, you’re a catch and there’s no way I’m letting you escape”

She laughed and nuzzled into his neck. He rested his head on hers and pressed a kiss to her hair. “I’m not joking. You should be very scared, baby. As far as I’m concerned, I’m it for you. Won’t let you leave no matter what you do.”

“Yeah?” She laughed, her eyes glinting with tears but also something new. Her lips quirked up in a mischievous smile. “What if I slept with a bunch of guys?”

He raised an eyebrow, reeling the unhinged jealous little man in his heart to join her in whatever this was that made her smile through her tears. “Good for them. Best pussy they’ll ever have. I mean, I will beat them to death for touching you. But you’re still my wife. Not divorcing you.”

“What if I fucked Steve?” She challenged, raising an eyebrow.

He knew what she was doing. She was making it personal, putting a face to the act and making said face a very familiar one. But he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction.

“Last thing he’ll ever do in his life. I’ll kill him and Connie will help me hide his body.”

“Mhmm? What if…..?” She trailed, looking into the distance as she stroked her invisible beard. “What if I let someone else knock me up?”

“You bitch!”

She gasped and shoved at his chest. “How dare you call me a bitch!?”

“How dare you even think of letting another man do that?”

“I won’t actually do that!” She defended, folding her arms over her chest. “I’m just trying to get a raise out of you.”

“And you did,” he supplied, making her scoff.

“How about…? Okay! What if I fucked Escobar?”

“Shit, I would tell everyone!” He laughed. “My wife? Getting that close to that piece of shit and living to tell the story? Yeah, I’d be on the rooftops with a megaphone. Oh and I’ll kill him. Of course. Goes without saying.”

“Well, you were gonna kill him anyway. What will you do to him for touching your wife?” She asked, twirling his overgrown hair around her finger.

Was this…? Noooo! He was just joking, but she seems to like the idea of him killing men for wanting her.

“Baby, what’s wrong with you?” He asked, laughing. She surprised him every goddamn day.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” she licked her lips and drew shaped on his chest with her index finger. “There should be an explanation for why I signed up for all this.”

“You like this, don’t you?” He asked, lowering the register of his voice the way she liked as he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You want me to possess you, to hurt anyone who would want you that way I have you. You like that I can be a dangerous man.”

She shivered, but quickly stabilised herself, looking very blasé as she spoke, “Huh, that answers my question. I always wondered what kind of idiot would be with Escobar. I guess women just like to fuck a powerful man. And money. She’d gotta be in it for the money.”

“She married him before he got rich, actually. And it’s not just women who are attracted to powerful men,” he added, letting her know just how much he liked when she was in a position of power.

“Men too? You’re gonna tell me you want to fuck Escobar?” She asked, making him laugh. He pinched her bum, making her squeal and attempt to get off him. He pulled her back in immediately, not ready to lose contact.

“When I came to your class, I sat in the back the entire time. I enjoyed seeing you in your element, leading the discussion, getting a big room full of people to listen to you. And your ass in a pencil skirt. If I was your student, I would wank off every day thinking of you” he groaned, his cock twitching inside her at the mental image.

“Oh my god!” She exclaimed before hitting him playfully.

“Whaaat? I feel bad for those fuckers in your class, having to talk about Frankenstein’s monster to impress their hot little literature professor.”

“Don’t sexualise my job!” She looked positively scandalised. Like he’d suggested that she let him fuck her on the streets.

“Uh huh? Now you know how it feels? What was that you asked me for your birthday?” He teased. “On yds, the little interrogation fantasy. You’ve been begging me to tie you up and interrogate you.”

She hid her smile from him, covering her face with her hands, but he pried them off to see her looking so sweetly shy at being reminded of the depraved things she wanted him to do to her. “You don’t have to do it,” she said, shy and quiet and she played with her rings.

“Mmm thank you baby, but I’m gonna make your dreams come true. Just be happy I’m not CIA. Cause CIA has some terrible interrogation methods. They’ll fucking waterboard you.”

“Oh my god! Okay this isn’t fun anymore,” she said, getting off him, but he pulled her right back onto his cock, laughing as he caught her expression.

“Let me go!”

“No, no sorry. I shouldn’t talk about the CIA in bed, they’re such a turn off.”

“You think that’s why I’m trying to escape?? Javi, women don’t like talking about waterboarding with a dick inside them.”

“Okay, okay, I know. Just stay in bed. I have today off and I need to be inside you,” he said, rubbing her back in an attempt to coax her into foregoing her household responsibilities for a lazy day in bed with him.

“I have work to do. Papers to grade and clothes to wash. Oh and some pervert,” she said, poking his chest a few times. “has been stealing my panties so I have to go wash them before he gets to them.”

“Oh please, it was just one pair,” he lied, looking away quickly but it wasn’t enough for him to get away with it.

She squinted her eyes at him and he relented. “Fine. It was three. Pink one with the stripes, blue lace ones and a white cotton panty.”

“Pervert!”

“Or I’m just really in love with my wife. You should see the sweet side of it. You don’t know how other guys act on the field. It’s like as soon as they’re in Medellin, they aren’t married.”

“Uh huh?” She said as she tilted her head, her tone suggesting that she wasn’t convinced by his words. “And I’m supposed to be grateful that you aren’t sleeping around? Pendejo!” She punctuated her curse with a slap to his chest.

“That’s not what I meant!” He defended, taking her slapping hand and giving it a kiss.

“Sure, Cabrón.”

He laughed, amused at how adorable she was when angry. He pulled her down to lie down with him, her head on his chest and his hand in her hair. Mornings like these had become so rare. Even without their period of separation, they didn’t have quality time together. Work always called, always overwhelmed and left him with very little to give as a husband. Being too tired to do anything else, he couldn’t even take her out anywhere for dinner. But that would change tonight.

“I made dinner reservations for us. Are you free tonight?”

He’d booked it a while back, but he didn’t know if she would want to go with him after she left. And he didn’t want to promise her a date night before he knew for sure that he would have the day off from work. She did not take it terribly when he had to calculate on her for work, but something told him it wasn’t good for a marriage to keep breaking promises.

“Hmm, I don’t know. This pendejo said he’ll paint my nails and did a half assed job. I might have to book a nail appointment for the night,” she teased, making him laugh. He’d completely forgotten that their activities were preceded by his request to paint her nails.

“I’ll finish the job now,” he said, getting up, but she pushed him back down and trapped him in a loving hug.

“Later. I just wanna stay like this a little longer. Feels good…”

“I like when you hold me like this, mi amor,” he confessed, his voice softening as he opened himself up to allow himself to bask in the euphoria that holding her to his chest brought him.

“I- it calms me down. I need to hear your heart beating. I wake up from bad dreams sometimes and I can’t fall back asleep if I don’t lie down like this.”

He froze. He had no idea she had nightmares. “You never told me.”

“Didn’t want to worry you.”

He said her name softly, making her look up at him from his chest.

“You have to tell me these things,” he said, moving her hair out of the way so he could have an unobstructed view of her. Her features were soft, her eyes open, vulnerable.

“You have a lot on your plate already… I don’t want to be one of your problems.”

“Jesus,” he swore before sighing. “You’re not- I’ll never think of you as a problem. I understand why you worry. It’s not unwarranted. I would never ask you to hide your feelings for me. I thought we talked about these things. You’re the one who’s always telling me that we should communicate about difficult things. What happened to that?”

“Do you remember when I made you choose? Either date me for real or stop coming over for anything other than sex?”

He hummed in response, encouraging her to continue. They'd been fooling around for around two months back then and one night when he was dressing himself to leave, she forced him to confront how he’d been treating her— he’d been giving her mixed signals, pulling her in and pushing her away. He’d act like her boyfriend one minute but get distant the next and she was understandably annoyed.

“And you said you wanted to date me but you warned me that your job was dangerous and that attachments were a weakness. I didn’t want to be your weakness, I still—”

He shook her head, interrupting her mid-sentence, “I was talking out of my ass, I was just scared. And it’s different now. We’re—”

“Yeah but when I think of you strapping a gun and badge on yourself to go out and get shot at by those malparidos, I want to stop you,” she choked on her words, getting up off his chest and hugging her knees to her chest. “I told you I could handle it. That day and the day you asked me to marry you. But, I can’t. I can’t handle it. Ever since Steve was kidnapped- and I know you said he wasn’t in any real danger, but fuck! It was terrifying to see Connie like that and I couldn’t help but worry and put myself in her place. And I couldn’t stop thinking about every terrible thing that could happen to you and I just wanted to lock you up at home. So I left- because I don’t want to be your weakness. But I can’t be brave, I can’t be strong.”

It broke his heart to know that behind the scenes, behind her easy smiles and her strong shoulders he leaned on everyday, there was so much fear. So much insecurity. There was shame too. Had he been more attentive, he would’ve known without her having to tell him, without her having to run away.

He sat up, pulled her close and placed a kiss on her head. “You are brave and you’ve been so strong, putting up with more of my shit than you need to… Sometimes I think I won’t get through this with my soul intact if it weren’t for you. So never think that you’re my weakness.”

She listened, her eyebrows furrowed and eyes never leaving him. She bit down on her lip, pulling at the skin with her teeth, something she did when anxious. He reached over and thumbed her lip, not wanting to wait until she started bleeding.

“I… I’ve put you in a difficult position, but I would never ask you to hide your fears for my comfort. And you leaving definitely did not make me stronger. Just scared the hell out of me. I thought I’d done something so shit that you’d left for good.”

“Sorry I left… I just—”

“I’m sorry you couldn’t talk to me. Not like that would’ve solved anything,” he scoffed, rubbing his eyes. “Nothing short of stopping that bastard is going to solve this.”

“I know, I know…” she sighed.

“I’ll get him,” he affirmed, taking her hands in his. All the things he’d done since he landed in Colombia, all the things he’d lost because of that man… To think he might lose her too… It was chilling. He’d lost friends, made enemies, became the guy everyone called an asshole for not cutting corners, for not putting up with anything that wasn’t right. He’d lost so much, but she wasn’t going to be one of them. He wouldn’t allow it.

Javier Peña wouldn’t rest until Escobar was history.

.

.

.

Series Masterlist

[lunamamacita]

I love a good bubble bath jacuzzi 🥰🧖🏼‍♀️

[buttdumplin]

Of course you want to show off the food of your hometown to the boys, but this really should have been a solo date with Kyle. Still, you manage to sneak some time together.

cw: Gaz x reader, fat latine reader, gn!reader, implied poly 141, established relationship, mexican slang word count: 1845

You throw the car into park and glance up at your rearview mirror. The three white boys smushed into the backseat push at each other to try to take a look through the window, grunts and mumbles escaping them. Kyle chuckles from the passenger seat, watching the commotion unfold.

“Are we sure this was a good idea?” you turn to Kyle, “We could have brought it back to the house for them.”

“No saben igual después de tanto tiempo, y tu bien lo sabes, tesoro,” Kyle responds, an impish smile on his face.

With a groan, you close your eyes and throw your head against the headrest. It’s the first time yall are back in your hometown for more than a week, and with all the extra time to yourselves, the plan was to eat as much good food as possible. One of your tías told you about this place, where they serve al pastor straight from the trompo, each slice almost caramelized to a delicious crunch. They’ve got the pineapple sitting on top, too. She said it was the best quality she’s seen in town to date. Even her husband won’t stop talking about it. And now here you all are, parked against the curb with the air on full blast.

Every time you’ve gone to a mom and pop shop like this, it’s been you and Kyle stepping in first. You go in with kindness and chatter, and the older ladies always helplessly swoon over Kyle. Laughter bubbles and you both eat happily, and sometimes the ladies sneak extras onto your plates. It’s a sacred time full of loud smooches, the staff going “UUUUU’ all around you, a deep blush on Kyle’s face as you wipe at the corner of his mouth with a napkin, his radiant smile set to make your heart burst. It’s perfect. It’s home.

Once you’ve scoped out a place with your own private date, then you bring your white boys over. At that point, you’ve already tried the place, showered Kyle in kisses, and built rapport with the staff. So by the time they step in, the sun drawing eyes to their paleness, the staff won’t try to upcharge you. It’s a genius pull, honestly, one you’ve done yourself with tremendous success. The white folks always have more than enough money to spare, and since they usually don’t know the prices, well that’s on them. But as you sit here in the car, listening to them point out all the little details of the shop to each other, you can’t help but wish you’d left them at home.

Kyle notices the disappointment on your face as you pick at your fingers. Try as you might to keep your face neutral, your expressions are always so easy for him to read. This is the first time your private outings have been interrupted, all because the shop is just a bit too far from the house for the tacos to travel well and your cousin had to fucking say so. He reaches for your hand, bringing it to his mouth for a kiss, waiting for you to make eye contact with him. There’s a distinct sadness in his eyes, a bittersweetness that’s never appeared on these outings before.

“Next time?” a little bit of hope cracks through his voice.

“Next time,” you swear, noticeably glum.

A thought freezes you before you can undo your belt. You reach for Kyle’s hand again, silly grin on your face, and turn around towards the other boys.

“How do you ask for the price of something?’ you ask them.

Kyle holds back his laughter at the question, squeezing your fingers with excitement. There’s joy on his face again and that’s all it takes for you to know you made the right call.

¿Cuánto cuesta?” they all say as one.

“No,” you say, your splitting with a grin, and Kyle can’t hold in his laugh. “Sorry boys, you’re staying here. Kyle and I will be right back.”

They don’t have the chance to protest or question before you’re bolting out of the car, coming around to open Kyle’s door and pull him from his seat. He lets out another loud laugh, the crinkles around his eyes sending warmth blooming in your chest. You’re both still giggling, if a little out of breath from sprinting inside, when one of the staff steps up to greet you, an older woman who's clearly enjoying the life you’re bringing into the place.

“Hola, mis niños. ¿Es su primera vez aquí? No me acuerdo haberlos visto antes, y a esas caritas las recordaría.”

“Primera vez. Un primo nos dijo de este lugar. Y nomas al verlo, se ve rebueno,” Kyle says, bringing you in closer as you wrap your arm around his waist.

“Una cita con el novio,” you tell her. It’s hard to keep a smile off your face with your sudden success, and it seems to catch in the staff member as well.

As she goes off to put in your order, Kyle helps you pack up some salsa, holding the small containers for you to scoop the goods into. You’re trying to figure out just how many containers you can fit into your hands, Kyle reminding you that you’ll need more guacamole than any salsa, when she returns with a big bag full of much smaller plastic bags of guacamole for you. Before you can even thank her, she’s handing each of you a plate with two smaller tacos, winking at you.

“Si quieren, pueden esperar ahí,” she points towards the door with her eyebrows, where there’s a couple of swings.

Walking over, you eye them a little nervously, worried about the structural integrity. The last thing you need is for it to give out on you, regardless of how nice it might be to reminisce in the seat.

“They’re welded,” Kyle whispers in your ear, “They’re solid.”

Sweet tears brim your lashes as you pull him down to cover his cheek in quick kisses. You can feel his shoulders shake with quiet mirth as he stays in place, accepting as much love as you’re willing to give him. If it were up to him, he’d never move from the spot, not even if his back starts aching or if hunger pangs strike. He’d stay pressed to you until something or someone forced him away. So for now he takes what he can.

“We should eat these before they get cold,” the false concern in your voice clear as you gently rock in the swing.

“Definitely. Wasting them would be disrespectful,” his voice low, pulling at the chain of your swing to bring you close together.

The first bite has you turning to look at each other with wide eyes, a pleasant shock bouncing between you. Words can’t do it justice. Your tía’s husband hyped these tacos up so much that you were a little worried about being disappointed. Turns out he didn’t talk about them enough. All either of you can do is let out groans as you chow down silently, Kyle’s strong arm keeping your swings connected.

“Hijo de su pinche putisima madre,” you say, gulping for breath around the sheer ecstasy of the food.

“Que chingandos fue eso?” he says, soft eyes searching yours as if you have the answer. They say food is sex, but the closest he’s ever come to feeling like this has been with you. What the fuck did they put in this. He leans back to face the woman behind the counter, “Seño, nos puede dar otras dos órdenes más porfa?”

“Ya te las puse, precioso,” she says, stepping towards him with a bulging bag in her hand, “Sabía que iban a necesitar más. El amor hace que te dé más hambre.” Before either of you can get up, she’s shoving another two little tacos into your hands, pressing a finger to her smiling lips.

You take slower bites this time, smiling at each other with cheeks bulging full of food. Now that you know what you’re in for, you’re going to savor every piece. Swings still connected, you nudge Kyle’s foot with the toe of your shoe, pressing your knee more firmly against his. He looks so at peace, his shoulders slightly scrunched as he carefully brings the food to his mouth, his nose crinkled up with delight at each bite he takes. You have the brief thought that maybe you should take a picture of this moment, but you can’t bear to tear your eyes from him. And when he turns, those big brown eyes locked on you, you’re sure you’ll never blink again.

“¿Que piensas, mi vida?” he caught your stare.

“Que te adoro,” you speak the words into his skin, kissing the arm holding your swings together.

“En aceite?”

“Clarín.”

Kyle quickly scans the room, just enough to make sure no one is looking your way, before bending and planting a tender kiss on your lips. His lips taste faintly of salt and fat, just as yours surely do, and you wish you could deepen the kiss, wanting more of the delectable combination. But he pulls away before you can, hunger for you burning in his eyes.

His voice is rough when he speaks again, tongue peeking out in search of the lingering taste of you, “We should get back to them.”

“When we get home?” your voice so breathless you barely recognize it as your own.

Kyle nods and stands, holding the bag of food in front of him, trying to discreetly adjust his pants. You’re both giggling again as he reaches for you, gently helping you up from the swing. Smiles are still stuck in place when you reach the car, slipping into your seats without saying another word.

You pause for a moment, waiting for some kind of commentary from the backseat. Now that you’re back in the car, you can look over and see that the swings are in clear sight of the car. A glance up at the rearview mirror shows you three grinning faces, each one more knowing than the next. They could dog you, tease you, joke about the scene they surely saw. But they don’t. Instead, Simon’s tummy breaks the silence, a loud rumble echoing through the car.

The entire car bursts into peals of laughter, the racket interrupted only long enough to deal out plates and servings. Kyle was right about the guacamole, as the boys pour entire little baggies of it on their tacos. Can’t blame them, honestly. That shit is creamy. And then a corus of moans breaks out in the backseat, first bites hitting hard enough to make the most stoic of them break into delight. You look over at Klye, find him already looking at you, and you both nod enthusiastically, biting into your food.

“We’re coming back,” he says, and then lower, “Just us next time.”

“Fuck yeah we are, that was set in stone the moment the woman greeted us. Gotta show off my boyfriend again,” you wink at him.

[michaelholdenenjoyer]

HEAR ME OUT 😫😫😫 solitaire coraline au

[qtepasacalabaza]

<2+1

[victoriademedici]

royal men + text post memes (insp.)

[kuramirocket]

What is this book even talking about? Mario never offered to help Peach save the Mushroom Kingdom in the film. If anything he practically demanded that she help him find Luigi.

"Make fun of me all you want, but you are going to help me find my brother...please."

He added the last part, 'please,' when he saw her reaction and probably realized he should be more respectful to someone he was asking for help. Lol.

Mario only wanted to accompany Peach because she was going to try and stop Bowser who he was told is evil and likely already captured Luigi.

Mario's priority throughout the entire film was finding and rescuing Luigi. His brother was his number one motivator in everything and what kept him going and what made him fight Donkey Kong in the ring.

Don't get me wrong. Mario is nice and cares about others and he did help save the MK. He's not going to let people just be hurt, ofc, but again, his priority and thoughts were always towards Luigi from the start.

Anyways, just me reading a book geared towards very young audiences and being like 'actually no.' Lol

[ratatatastic]

local man haunts (me) open practise yet again more news at 11

[lokischocolatefountain]

Say No to Me

Series Masterlist

Fandom: Narcos

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+ (Mostly smut with a garnish of fluff)

Word count: 5.7k

Summary: It hadn’t been a good day at work for Javier Peña— what was new? She knew she could make him bury his frustrations in her, but it was taking a much more convincing than he usually needed. It didn’t matter. She liked a challenge.

A/N: He’s a hot asshole and all but I think he’s husband material with those soft eyes and pretty hair. Warning: bad Spanish.

The dinner went cold on the kitchen counter as she sat at her desk, reading through the stack of essays she had to finish grading by the end of the week. He always told her not to wait up, scolded her for staying up waiting for him in the living room even when she had to wake up early for work.

She continued to not follow his request. She was tired most nights she waited desperately for the lock to turn to let her husband in. But it didn’t feel very wifely to go to bed before feeding her husband. He didn’t expect such things of her; neither of them were traditional that way. He didn’t expect much of her really and she didn’t expect much of him. He didn’t expect her to cook and clean, she didn’t expect him to come home on time. But she still cooked when she could and he hurried home whenever he could. It was why their marriage worked.

A smile curled her lips upward when she heard the door open. “Jav—” she gasped, standing up from her chair and rushing to him. Even in their dimly lit living room, she could see the splotches of red on his shirt.

He took her hands in his before she could take his shirt off to assess his injuries. She knew his job was dangerous, but never imagined she’d see him come home covered in blood.

“It’s not mine,” he insisted, dropping her hands to hold her face with both of his. His brown eyes looked into hers, pleading with her to just believe him. It was an ‘I know I always lie about work, but I’m not lying this time’.

He pulled her close to his chest, whether desiring affection or to distract her from the blood on his shirt, she didn’t know. She knew it was just her imagination, but she could feel the blood on his shirt stain her white top. Like he was transferring his sins on to her, giving her everything he had as he said he would in their marriage vows. She imagined him leaving red on her forehead as he kissed her, red in her hair as she imaged his metaphorically bloodstained hands combing through.

To her surprise, none of it fazed her. She loved him, brown eyes, bloody hands, guilty heart and all. She should be ashamed, really, that these things only made her want him more.

“Need you to say no, mi amor,” he said, grabbing her ass over her silk pajamas. If he actually wanted her to deny him, he was doing a poor job of convincing her to do so. They did not have a traditional marriage, but just this one part could be considered a bit too traditional. They would fit right in with the old expectations for women to put out whenever their husbands desired although none of them did it as part of their rather unusual lifestyle.

He’d given her a ring to wear over her wedding ring for when she wished to give him permission to do whatever he liked with her. It was with the expectation that it would go on and come off. She never took it off, giving him explicit permission to do with her what he wished forever. That didn’t stop her from asking, begging even to say no to him. She very rarely gave in.

“Stop touching me so good then.”

On second thought, they would not fit well with those old expectations. Purely because of how good he fucked her. Why would she ever say no when he always took great care of her? Why reject touches that lit her on fire and reminded her for days to come what she’d let him do to her.

“Just grabbing your ass, baby. Not doing much,” he said, pushing her into their door and holding her there with a strong hand on her lower back.

“It’s doing things for me,” she pressed her cheek into the cold door, her eyes struggling to keep him in her line of vision as he played with her body. He pulled the silk drawers down her legs, the fabric tickling her thighs before pooling around her feet.

“Oh? You missed me that much?” He asked, casually slipping a finger inside her cunt. She whimpered as she felt him force his way in, his finger exploring her as she imagined what he had planned for her, the ways in which he’d make her scream his name.

She nodded and said, “Sí, papi.”

She heard his breath hitch at that one. Good to know he liked that…

“Say no to me, cariño…” he begged, kissing and nibbling at the skin on her neck. He stepped closer to her and reached under her top to find her breasts. Usually, his touches were gentle but now, he grabbed, groped and pinched like a greedy man who wanted to take everything for himself until there was nothing left of her. Yet he was begging to be stopped.

“Whyyyy,” she whined, fucking herself on his finger, desperate to use any part of his body she could get to make herself feel good.

“I had the worst fucking day,” he said, bending down to whisper into her ear. The gruffness of his voice drove her mad, made her want to get on her knees and beg to be used for his selfish pleasures. “You let me have you now and I’ll fuck you up, baby. I’ll fucking ruin you,” he grunted into her ear and wrapped his hand around her throat. She felt the bulge of his cock through his pants as he rubbed himself against her ass like a desperate animal.

“Ruin me then,” she whimpered, making him tighten around her throat.

“Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Please Javi, hurt me… Want you to—” ruin me

She didn’t get to complete her sentence. All of a sudden, the man who was begging her to say no to him twirled her around to face him, his hands meeting at the middle of her top and ripping it apart.

“Javi! You fucking animal! Why did you do that?”

“Quit whining,” he growled, grabbing her face in his hand and forcing her to look up at him, at his fiery eyes. She would be able to cook up a smile if not for the iron grip on her cheeks. “I bought it for you and I’ll do whatever I want with it. Just like these,” he paused to grab her tits with the other hand. “—are mine to do with as I like. ¿Eso se entiende?”

“Sí Papi,” she gasped out with the little air she could have.

“Buena chica,” he smiled, letting go of her throat and caressing her cheek. She panted, letting air back into her body after being deprived of it for a little while. Losing air for just a little while was something she enjoyed, but only if he was the one robbing her of her breaths. There was just something so sexy yet comforting about letting the man she trusted play with her breath like that. Something about putting her life in his hands and asking him to play around with it knowing that he would keep her safe.

“Don’t know what I should have first…” he trailed, his eyes roaming her body. He traced the outline of her lips with his thumb as he continued, “This pretty little mouth that knows to put me in my place when we argue but begs to be hurt when we fuck.”

“Or…” he grabbed her between her legs, laughing when she gasped at the humiliating position she was in. “This pretty little pussy that creams at the prospect of pain.”

“Whatever you want, Sir… Please, just use me. Please…” She’d rather him fuck her pussy. It had been too long since they’d been energetic enough to fuck at the end of the day. It had been too long since he made her writhe and cry in his arms as she came down from an orgasm. But she wanted him to have a choice after the rotten day he’d had, didn’t want to deny him anything. If what he wanted was to hold her head in place and fuck her face, she’d let him. It was easy making that choice knowing he’d always repay her with his head between her legs.

“Fuck, baby! Who would’ve thought, huh? Can’t believe I once thought you were just a sweet little thing, a nice respectable professor. Didn’t think I was fucking a shameless fucking whore.”

She attempted a laugh, but all she could do was let out a breath. “Wish I could say the same about you, but you have shameless fucking whore written on your forehead.”

He let out a dry laugh and tucked her hair behind her ear. She closed her eyes as he leaned in, hoping that he would kiss her. Instead, she felt the tip of his nose in between her eyebrows. She heard him breathe her in and moan as though just her scent turned him on. He traced the tip of his nose down her nose, stopping at the tip and nudging playfully.

Bloodstains forgotten, she placed her hands on him, letting herself feel his broad shoulders, strong arms and the little belly she was growing fond of despite his constant complaining about getting old. “Gonna quit this job right-fucking-now, Cariño. Gonna take you back home and fuck you all day and all night. I’ll never leave this cunt, I swear.”

“Oh? And then what?” She asked, curious about what kind of future he fantasized about for them even if it was an unrealistic product of his hard dick.

“Finally knock you up,” he said, his eyes glinting as he pushed his fingers in and out of her cunt. “Todo el mundo debería saber que eres mi esposa. Our families want us to have a wedding, but I think this will be more effective.”

“I don’t know, Papi…” she teased, playing with the buttons of his shirt. It had been a longtime wish of theirs, to settle down and have kids. But his job didn’t have seem to have an end and their plans remained something to fantasise about when they fucked or sat cuddled up on rare Sunday mornings. “I don’t want to lose my figure. Don’t want you to lose interest in me and go back to being a manwhore.”

“It’s alright, Cariño. You’ve had this figure for a while, it might be time for a change. I might just end up loving you swelling up with my baby so much that I decide to keep you pregnant.”

“That’s financially very very—” she gasped silently as he hit a sensitive spot inside her. “It’s ir- irresponsible.”

“That’s okay, we’ll handle it. I’ll keep this fucking job, climb the ladder and make us some money. As long as I get to keep you fucked out and filled with my cum. Breed you, mark you the way men have been marking their women before rings and marriage licenses. Think about that, querida…”

She clenched around him, letting him know immediately that she was imagining this scenario and liked what she saw in her head. She imagined being only his, no responsibilities in life except to please him. Oh to be nothing but his plaything, to be used for him to get off, held down and bred over and over and—

“You thinking about that, hmm?”

She nodded, grabbing the arm that was between her legs and encouraged him to go faster.

“You can’t say much anymore, can you, slut?” He taunted, pushing her hand away from his before continuing his torture. “Fuckin’ love that mouth of yours, Querida. That sharp tongue, too. I think that’s why I dragged you to the embassy and made you my wife.”

She moaned, attempting to cry his name but failing. Whatever sound she made sounded nothing like his name, sounded nothing like a human woman. She loved his mouth too, even though her obsession was with his eyes and his nose. She loved that mouth that could make her cunt cream and her heart melt at the same time.

“But I keep you 'cause I love to shut you up. Love to stick my cock in your mouth, love to fuck you stupid with just my fingers like I’m fucking you now. Only I can fuck you stupid, my smart girl. Only me. All mine, aren’t you?” He asked, taking her lips between his before she could scream that she was indeed all his. He tasted of cigarettes and whiskey, something she couldn’t stand when she was his girlfriend but craved as his wife. It was a taste she’d gotten used to, grown to love. Perhaps because it was so masculine or because she’d identified the taste as something that belonged to her, just like the man himself.

She tightened around him and he noticed, smirking at how he could play her like an instrument. She clung to his shoulders for support as he prepared to yank her world from beneath her feet. When everything was unstable, when she couldn’t trust her own two feet, he was there, holding her up and making her feel so fucking good.

“Javi…” she cried, the kinky names she had for him disappearing as all she could remember in the thrall of her pleasure was his name.

“Sí, mi amor. Estoy aquí. Mi amor, mi corazón, mi vida, mi esposa. Estoy—” he continued whispering his sweet, sweet words. As wonderful as they were to hear, she drifted away from his voice, drifted away from him. The world had turned into nothing and she was suddenly shot up into the sky, but also floating down to the earth like a feather.

His arms wrapped around her and she felt herself be carried before her back hit the soft bed.

“Was that it?” She asked, panting.

“Do you want that to be it? You tired, Querida?”

“No way,” she said, still breathless. “You promised to ruin me. I’m not letting you get off until you keep your promise. I’ll keep you up all night…all fucking night if I have to.”

He hovered over her, his gaze piercing her as he watched her tits rise and fall in her attempt to catch her breath.

“I picked a wanton whore to marry, huh?” He teased, but she was in no mood to listen to his words. She’d let him talk later as much as he wanted but not now.

“Get to work, Peña,” she said, grabbing him by his hair and leading him between her legs.

“Oh, so I’m just Peña now?” He managed to quip before being shoved closer to her cunt. “Yes Ma’am,” he grunted before licking a stripe up her dripping pussy. He pushed her thighs further apart, putting her on display for his eyes. She looked away for a second before turning her focus right back to him, shy about being exposed to him but unable to keep her gaze away from his beauty for too long.

“Taste so good, Cariño,” he said, coming up for a breath. “I could live off of eating you, three meals a day for the rest of my life.”

“Would be a short life then, seeing that there’s no nutritional value to pussy,” she quipped, earning a slap to her pussy. Her legs closed by instinct, but he spread her open again. Before the sting of his slap could fade, he slapped her again.

“Disobedient little cunt,” he spat, slapping her again. She kicked her legs around, but there wasn’t much she could do to escape his grasp as he held her in place with those strong hands of his. She felt like she could be one of the people he chased. He would be so elentless, catch and pin her down, hold her in place with his strong arms and fuck! She whined at the next slap.

He brought his hand down again and her eyes squeezed shut in preparation for the impact. It never came. Instead she felt his thumb circling her clit. She looked down at him and pushed his hair behind to find his eyes. He smiled arrogantly from between her legs, his eyes mischievous and determined to cause her a lot of pain. He provided her a few seconds of mercy as his thumb left her. She noticed her slick on his mustache, whimpering at how much more handsome he looked with her all over his face. He slapped her again and she kicked her legs, almost getting him in the process.

“Please, please Papi! I can’t—” she shrieked as he landed another one.

“You either take what I give you or we stop everything. Do you want to stop everything?” He asked and she shook her head in disagreement immediately. She didn’t want him to stop no matter how hard it got, no matter how torturous his touches became. She wanted the ruination in his arms that he promised. She wanted to be crying, to be numb when he was done using her.

He alternated between touching her clit oh so gently and slapping her when she least expected it, the pleasure and pain merging into one until she craved the pain as much as she did the pleasure. At some point, her legs stopped fighting back, resigned to her torture. Her eyes glazed over and her Javi was but a blurry image. When she came again, she may have said his name. Or not. She wasn’t sure. Her thighs shook under the pleasure and she felt him pull her into his comforting embrace where she relaxed with her eyes closed.

“—can stop if you want to. Don’t worry about me, mi amor.”

“Still not ruined. Ruin me,” she replied, dazed. She wanted to know how far he could go. She needed to feel the full extent of his power over her, to know where the limits of his power were. For her sake, she hoped there were no limits. She hoped to find out she was all his even when he fucked her thoughts out of her head and she was nothing but a pretty body.

“You missed me that much, Cariño? I made you come only twice and you’re already so fucked out?” He peppered little kisses along her jaw before moving to her neck.

“Missed you so much, Javi,” she managed to say when she once again felt stable, as stable as she could be as his puppet.

He had been away too long for her liking, leaving his side of the bed cold and empty. They were by no means the kind of couple that clung to each other, but god she missed him. She missed him between her legs, on her lap as she read to him, at the dinner table appreciating her cooking, in their kitchen washing the dishes… She missed him so much.

“I missed you, too,” he said softly, laying her back down on the bed. She refused to part with him, holding on to his hand and interlacing their fingers to keep him from getting too far away from her. Understanding her need to be close to him, he gave up on separating from her and caressed the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Ready for another round?” He asked, throwing her legs over his shoulders before diving in.

Two orgasms turned to three and three to four and so on. She’d lost count at some point, but he hadn’t lost his enthusiasm. Her body was on fire and he was the only one with the water to put it out. He had to be a cruel man for he did the exact opposite, lighting her on fire over and over and promising to put her out if she’d come for him “just one more time, Cariño”.

She felt a tear trickle down the side of her face, but his hands and mouth continued relentlessly, consuming every bit of her, body and soul. In her state of intoxication, she thought his hands were in too many places at the same time. She laid helplessly, unable to do anything but take what he gave as he forced her to surrender to him over and over and over and—

“Qúe Bonita,” he cooed, wiping the tears off her face as she sobbed. She didn’t even have enough in her to tell him to stop, to have mercy, to free her from his painful pleasures. But even if she could, she didn’t know if she would.

“Want your hole just one more time. Just once, okay? Open up,” he said, tapping her cheek with the back of his hand. She opened her mouth, grateful that he’d spared her pussy at last. She whined as he touched her again, too sensitive even for his now gentle hand. He collected the slick between her legs and smeared her all over his cock.

“Taste yourself on me, Querida. Taste what I can do to you,” he said before pushing the tip in. He placed his hand on her hair, petting her like she was a wild animal he’d tamed. He was getting her wetness all over her hair, but she couldn’t tell if it was something to be annoyed about. She couldn’t tell anything except the blissful pain in her cunt and his cock stretching her out.

He was so tender in feeding her his cock, so attuned to her responses. She didn’t even have to tell him to back away when it got too much for her. He read her so well that he knew just when to give her a breath. He knew her body better than she did, knew how to make it sing and how to make it beg, how to get it to surrender to his control.

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth. Fuck! Feel so good, baby,” he praised, the hand in her hair pushing and pulling her around his cock. Her jaw was beginning to hurt from the recent lack of practice, but she was sure he’d get her back to her prime over the week. The man had an obsession with shutting her up.

“Gonna fuck that smart brain outta that head,” he said, his quickening breaths combining with her moans and the lewd wet sounds of her mouth getting used. “Look at yourself,” he commanded, directing her to look at the mirror attached to their closet door. She caught herself, limp and useless but for her mouth. Her lips were swollen and her eyes were red. Her cheeks glistened under the light from the tears she’d shed. Her hair was all tangled up from his manhandling and her thighs had several marks the shape of his teeth. “Think your students will recognize you like this, Professor Peña? You think they know what a slut their whip smart professor is at home?”

“You think they wonder why you wear three rings? Bet none of them know that the third is just a license for me to use you up.”

She moaned around his cock as he pushed in and out of her throat, making him cry her name at the sensation. She wanted to grab a camera and take a picture of this moment to remember how thoroughly he used her.

“What a perfect fucking mouth!” He exclaimed, wrapping his other hand around her throat to feel how he stretched her out. “‘S like you were measured to fit around me, made to be my perfect little cocksucking whore.”

She clenched her throat tighter around his cock, letting her teeth graze him ever so slightly in the way that drove him nuts. Confident in how he held her up, she moved her hand from the bed and touched his balls, careful to not hurt him with her recently done nails. He twitched in her mouth and hissed at the sensation, making her smile victorious around his cock. He might think he had all the control with the way he was fucking her mouth, but it was always good to remind him that she could wipe his thoughts off his mind with just one touch.

“Gonna be fast now. Can you handle that, baby?”

She nodded, giving him all the permission he needed to forget he was fucking his wife. His thrusts were harder than they usually were, burning her throat. Her scalp stung with how mercilessly he pulled her hair. His other hand found her tits and dug in, leaving his marks on her flesh and making her cry in pain. Her jaw was sore and she knew her throat would be sore when she woke up the next morning.

She was fully out of control, having handed him the reins to her body and mind. She’d never done that with any other man before, just him. It was so easy to trust him, so easy to be content in being used as his toy knowing that he would still keep her safe. He would still respect her as his partner no matter the names he called her to get them off and the bruises he left behind on her body.

He went from coherent screams of her name to strained moans and groans. His grip on her hair slackened but he still kept going, pushing in and out of her mouth. She helped him along with her gentle touches of his balls and her sharp nails digging into the ample flesh of his ass. In no time, he was coating the insides of her throat with his cum. He pulled out too quickly, his cum now spurting out on her tear-stained face. She wished she hadn’t taken her makeup off, she would’ve made an even messier image for him with smudged lipstick and mascara running down her cheeks.

He didn’t seem to mind, looking more than just content with the sight before him. He laid her out on the bed and collapsed on top of her, placing quick kisses on her lips and her cheeks and her forehead. “Mi hermosa,” he whispered, traveling down to her shoulders and placing a kiss on her between each term of endearment. “Mi esposa, mi cielo, mi vida…Where would I be without you?”

“Doctor’s office, probably,” she chuckled. “Getting treated for STIs from sleeping around.”

He laughed and kissed her cheek, unbothered about the mess he made on her face. “Love this fucking mouth,” he smiled, giving her a quick peck.

A smug smile crept upon her lips as she said, “And you love fucking this mouth.”

“That I do, baby. Missed your mouth so much.” He bent down to kiss her lips as though proving just how much he missed it.

“Just my mouth?” She asked innocently, looking at him like a kicked puppy.

“You know it’s not just your mouth. Quit fishing for compliments.”

She slapped his chest playfully and tugged on his ear, making him shriek dramatically. “I shouldn’t have to be fishing, Javier. You should be complimenting me all the time.”

“You’re right, mi amor,” he said, taking the hand that slapped him. He brought it to his lips, kissing each finger and then her palm. He stopped at her ring finger with the three rings— a thick gold band with his name engraved on it, a thin one with a modest diamond, and nestled between them, a thinner silver that she wore to signal that he could use her as he liked. He paid the finger special attention, placing little kisses down to the tip.

He held her hand in the most gentlemanly way as he admired her newly manicured nails. “So lovely…”

“Mhmm? You like the color?” She asked, knowing very well that he did. The few times he got to accompany her to nail appointments, he always chose this shade of sparkly purple.

“You know I do. Did you remember to take money out of my drawer before the appointment?”

The man had something of an obsession with her nails, asking to see them and paint them for her. He took her to the nail salon when he could and insisted on paying. When he couldn’t accompany her, he made sure to slip some cash into her purse to pay for it.

“No, I’m sorry honey. It was a spontaneous thing with Carla.”

He tsked and dropped her hand like a petulant child who didn’t get what he wanted. She laughed and caressed his cheek with her thumb. “Are you really mad at me for this, Javi?”

“You know the rules. I pay for these nails.”

“I’m not going to argue about silly things now. I’m hungry. Go reheat the dinner and fix us a plate,” she said, shoving at his chest.

“You haven’t eaten yet?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed.

She shook her head and said, “I was waiting for you to come home. It’s been a while since we ate together.”

His eyes softened and he swallowed audibly. “I’ve been making you wait a lot, haven’t I?”

They had no expectations of each other, but he placed a lot on himself. He made promises she didn’t ask for and broke his own heart when he couldn’t keep them immediately. She wished he could be as patient with himself as she was with him. Tried as she might, she couldn’t do much to ease his worries. There was only so much a good fuck could do.

“Out of all the things you’re worrying about, our marriage shouldn’t be one. Okay?”

He looked away and nodded, but his eyes told a different story. She gently pushed his chest, getting her off of her so that she could sit up. She cupped his cheek and forced him to look at her. God, he looked so sweet, so vulnerable…

“I understand that things are terrible at work. I can see you’re worried about every goddamn thing. Work isn’t going great for me either. Our department isn’t being funded and my ass is being grilled for every— it doesn’t matter. Our home is all we have. I don’t want you to put a time on dinner and feel guilty about me waiting for you to come home. I don’t want you stressing over me not letting you pay for my nails. It’s a sweet thing you do for me, but it’s not like our marriage will be over without it.”

“Isn’t our marriage made of several small things? We do things for each other… I pay for your nails and you buy my shirts. You cook, I clean. You forgo a proper wedding and I…” he paused to sigh. “We got married at the fucking embassy and I got pulled for a raid and sent you home alone... We still can’t have kids because I’m so tied to work. We haven’t even eaten together in weeks. I’m not doing my part and I’m afraid that one day I’ll come home and you won’t be here.”

He wasn’t one to speak at length about what he felt. She could tell his feelings, see the burdens he carried just by looking into his eyes. But she didn’t know the specifics. She didn’t know he regretted not having a regular wedding. She didn’t know he was scared she would leave.

“I’m not going anywhere. And I never wanted a wedding for the sake of a wedding. You asked to be my husband and now you are. That is what you promised and that is what I wanted. I don’t care how we got there.”

“I left a woman at the altar.” He said, seemingly out of nowhere. His shoulders dropped as soon as he said it as though he’d been holding that information in for years.

“I know.”

“I never told you.”

“Laredo is a small town and your neighbors felt gossipy when I visited. I still don’t see what that has to do with this.” Once upon a time, that bit of information scared her. His ring still on her finger, she was afraid he’d stand her up too. But the woman he was supposed to marry, Lorraine, was quick to explain it away to her. If his ex was willing to clear him, she saw no point in being worried.

“I failed a marriage even before there was a marriage and now I’m failing you.”

Oh, you precious fool.

“You were young and stupid. That has nothing to do with us.”

“Now I’m older and still stupid.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. If you insist on believing that you’re failing in our marriage just because of some silly little things, there isn’t much I can do to make you see reality. I’m happy with you. I just waited a couple hours to eat with you. I didn’t fucking starve in that short time. We do these things in a marriage, Javi. You can’t take each little thing as a personal failing. You came to the campus to pick me up one evening and I was stuck in a meeting for more than an hour. Imagine if I thought I was a shit wife for that. I need you to let things go and enjoy yourself at least at home. Because all you’re doing right now is being miserable and ruining my great night with your sad little face.”

“Thank you…” he said softly, kissing her hand once again. “And my face is not little,” he mumbled.

“Oh my god!” She exclaimed, picking up her book from the side table and hitting him with it. “Go get me dinner. Pendejo.”

“So disobedient,” he teased.

“Cabrón.”

“Wow.”

“Viejo. Now go get me dinner.”

“Viejo? You’re older, Viejita.”

“By just a few months!” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Realizing he was very much enjoying seeing her push her tits out, he dropped her arms and pulled their blanket up to block his view. “And I still look younger. You look so old people are going to ask if you’re my uncle.”

“Are they now?”

“Yeah. It’s all those worry lines. Idiota.”

“Rude.”

Before she could call him another name, he got up from the bed and walked away. She sat back comfortably and whistled as she got a good view of his bare ass and his broad back. She caught him laughing softly as he walked to their kitchen, his eyes still on her as he heated their dinner. His insecurities weren’t going to go away anytime soon. Her body would only become less prepared for motherhood as time passed. But, she had him and he had her and that was all the safety they needed to go on to the next day.

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Series Masterlist

Read my other Pedro Pascal fics

[saiintvalentiine]

the best part of girlhood is wondering why I can't focus only to remember right I haven't eaten anything for around 15 hrs. Santi q te piensas.

[buttdumplin]

Thinking self-indulgent thoughts regarding the 141 boys and their little quirks with a spanish speaking reader. Some stumbling through their accents, some begging for more, some keeping their own knowledge of the language secret. I might come back to this later...

[samyelbanette]

From Mirko’s Instagram story.

October 18th, 2024.