#javier Peña x fem. reader
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OMFG all those six sentences fics are so hot 🥵
Could you do one with "I want to fuck you for the last of my life, marry me" by our favorite DEA agent, Javier Peña.
awww thank you! I have so much fun writing these!
Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader
Warnings: accidental marriage proposal?, implied smut, the beginnings of a handjob?, it's not that smutty tbh I think
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"I want to fuck you for the rest of my life, marry me," you heard Javi say against your ear.
You were laying in bed, him spooning you from behind, you both still out of breath, his cock still inside of you, having spent the whole Sunday morning in bed with each other.
You were pretty sure he could feel the way your heart started beating faster, his hand still groping one of your boobs, arm wrapped around your chest. Slowly, you felt his cock slip out of you, you turned in his arms so you could look at him.
He was biting his lip as he looked at you, eyes hesitant as you cuddled yourself against him, one of his hands coming to rest on your cheek.
"Didn't actually plan to ask like this but, fuck your pussy makes me dumb," his eyes widened again and you laughed, kissing him softly.
"Ask me again," you mumbled against his lips and he took a deep breath.
"Marry me?" he whispered and you smiled as you kissed him, one of your hands running down his chest, until it wrapped around his half hard cock.
"Yes, Javi," you slowly pumped his cock, "I'll marry you so you can fuck me for the rest of your life."
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talaok · 3 months ago
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Acting Normal
Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader
Summary: Javi’s been thinking about that night every minute of every day, while you're acting like it never even happened, and if he doesn't do something about it, he's gonna lose his mind.
warnings: smut| fingering, protected p in v sex, dirty talk, javi being a simp, sex in the workplace, (it's not public but there's a possibility of getting caught)
a/n: I already know what to write for part 3, this couple is my new obsession lol
This is a part 2 to this story, but it can be read alone
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Javi
This was really important stuff
He was really supposed to be listening
He was paid to listen to it,
that's what he kept repeating himself,
and yet- yet if someone asked him to repeat whatever Carillo was saying, he couldn't have spit out one singular word.
But it wasn't his fault, not really.
You must have been doing it on purpose, there was no way you were doing all that just accidentally.
Your lips were wrapped around the lollipop in a way that left nothing to the imagination- he could feel those lips on him, he knew how soft and sweet they were from kissing them, but around him... oh they would feel even sweeter, he was sure-
"If you're not gonna listen to me then why am I even here?"
It took Javier much too long to realize what Carillo had said
"I'm listening" he stated with enough confidence to fool anyone- except he was talking to one of the few people that could see right through his bullshit.
"I'm surprised you haven't done it yet" the Colonel shook his head, blowing out a cloud of smoke "I thought she would have given in by now"
"I don't know what you're talking about"
Carillo couldn't help but laugh.
"You've been obsessed with her since she first arrived"
Javier hadn't even noticed that his gaze was back on you... or that his colleague had spoken again.
"yeah," Carillo chuckled, patting Javi's back "I'll just talk to Murphy"
And that was that, Carillo was gone, and Peña was left at a desk at the corner of the room, staring at you with the intensity with which a lion watches a gazelle.
He didn't know what the fuck to do.
To be completely honest with himself, he'd made a fucking mess.
He'd always been attracted to you, I mean there's not much of you that any man could find not hot, and sure, he'd spent about a year flirting with you as you rolled your eyes at him... but that's just how he was- he never thought it'd ever actually happen- and now...
Now he was fucked
You seemed so incredibly normal around him, like that night a week ago had been just a perfect dream, while him- fuck he couldn't even look at you without picturing how perfect you looked from between your tighs.
He'd thought he could manage to just do it that one time, to get it out of his system... what a stupid fucking bastard- he'd only made everything ten times worse.
And the worst part was that you didn't seem affected by it, not even a little bit- like now, there you were, looking all concentrated and everything, your brows furrowed, your bare legs crossed, one of them swinging ever so often, and your lips... your lips wrapped around the candy were an image sent straight from heaven.
Fuck- he was half fucking hard just by looking at you.
He needed to do something- now- or he was gonna go fucking crazy.
__ __ __
"can I have a talk with you for a moment?"
He was leaning over your desk, not doing a great job of masking his desire.
You, on the other hand, hadn't even looked up from the paper before you.
"what's up?"
what's up?
He'd made you squirt on your boss' desk for fuck's sake, and you tell him what's up??
"Just something I think you could help me out with, in the evidence room"
"now?" you winced, finally looking at him
"Yeah now"
__ __ __
"so what is it? did they misplace a file again-"
"How are you acting so normal?"
A gasp fled your mouth as you turned around and found him but an inch from you
"Jesus" you breathed "what are you talking about?"
"and who even eats lollipops past the age of five?"
He took a step closer and you took a step back, only for your back to hit the wall.
He'd cornered you.
"what is going on with you?" you hissed, only for him to take another slow step, and place his hand on the wall, right next to your head
"you, that's what's going on with me" his breath was fanning over your mouth, images of last week's night flashing both your minds "I've had the best sex of my life with you, and you're acting like it was just another Tuesday night"
"I-"
"I can still taste you on my tongue, I can still feel you around me, and you look at me like I'm nothing more than a fucking colleague y/n"
"Javier-"
"And then" he chuckled darkly, interrupting you once again "and then you have the nerve to suck on a fucking lollipop right in front me-"
A soft laugh couldn't help but bubble up your throat at that.
"Did that seriously... turn you on?"
"So what if it did?" he purred, his left hand finding your waist and forcing you off the wall and flush against him, against the blatant proof of his arousal.
You gasped, your hands clutching the shirt covering his chest.
"you're worse than a hormonal teenager"
His eyes sparked with malice as he bent down, his mouth skimming your mouth and cheeks, leaving shivers in his passage, until he pressed his lips right below your ear.
"A hormonal teen that made you squirt for the first time in your life"
"Javier-" your voice had already reduced to a thread of a whimper.
Fuck him and his irresistible sex appeal.
He was right, no one had ever made you feel as good as he had, and as much as he thought you weren't affected by that knowledge, he'd be shocked to find out how difficult it proved not to squirm every time he merely looked at you.
Yes, of course you were constantly thinking about that night too.
"Tell me you don't think about it"
He was like a mind reader
You stayed silent, conscious that any response you could give would inevitably give you away.
"That's what I thought" A snicker rumbled from his chest, his hand moving from your waist to slide underneath the hem of your skirt.
You hummed, your brain only half functioning as he continued to trail hot wet kisses down your throat.
"W-what are you doing?" you tried to speak normally without success.
"what does it look like I'm doing?" he smirked, his hand now fully cupping your clothed core, making you whine "What I've been thinking of doing for a whole damn week- so I don't lose my mind"
Two of his fingers were circling the wet spot on your panties when a phone rang from the other room, making your eyes snap open.
What the fuck were you doing?
You were at work- anyone could come in at any moment.
"Javier wait," you said, finally getting your voice back to normal.
"what is it, sweetheart?" from the way his eyes were still a thousand shades darker and blatantly staring at your mouth you could have guessed the danger of being caught didn't trouble him one bit.
"We can't"
He groaned frustratedly then, his head falling between your neck and shoulder
"why not sweetheart?"
"are you serious?" a quick laugh bubbled up your throat "we're at work"
"so?"
"so?" you parroted, only your voice was heightening with exasperation "so anyone could catch us at any given moment"
A soft smirk pulled at his lips, the hand that was still on your wall going to your waist to get you flush against him
"Are you ashamed of me sweetheart?" he teased
"Well, to be completely honest having sex with the biggest slut in Columbia isn't exactly my highest moment"
He feigned a gasp, his hot breath fanning over your own parted mouth
"Me? A slut?"
"yeah, you" You couldn't fight the smile pulling at your lips.
There he was, doing it again- making all your common sense fly out the window with his godforsaken charm.
"c'mon baby, I'll be quick"
And although you didn't want to, you could see yourself starting to consider his proposal.
"that's supposed to convince me?" you arched a brow, an amused smile pulling at your lips
"What, you think I can't make you come quickly?" he purred, his hand going to your ass in a swift move to grab at it.
You bit down a whine "Well I don't know"
"tell me you don't want it" he teased, the fingers on your core starting a torturous path up and down your still-clothed, but unbelievably drenched, slit "That you don't want this"
His fingers had trespassed your panties and had now found your raw skin, making you gasp
"anyone could come in us, including Messina" you added breathlessly
"I locked the door" he promised, his forehead on yours as his ring and middle finger gently found their way inside of you.
"a-and what if someone needs to get in?" you tried your best not to moan, but the way he curled his fingers made it so very fucking difficult
"then we'll tell them to fuck off" he murmured, his mouth now touching yours, but still not kissing you.
"If we get caught I'm gonna kill you, we clear?"
"yes ma'am" he smirked, his breath mixing with yours
"now- may I kiss you, baby?"
You rolled your eyes before answering "Yes, you may"
And just like that, he was devouring you, his lips crashing with yours and his tongue sliding into your mouth to explore every inch of it, gaining dominance on your own in a matter of seconds.
"fuck I missed this" he groaned, his fingers suddenly speeding up and robbing you of all ability to tease him about his words "these fucking lips are gonna be the death of me"
Your mouth was open as you desperately tried to get oxygen to your lungs, but he didn't care, he took your bottom lip into his mouth and started sucking, his fingers fastening their pace as the filthy sound of your wetness bounced off the walls of the room.
"tell me you thought about it too" he growled, his palm making contact with your clit and forcing you to gasp as your hips started grinding onto it, onto his hand, sparks of pleasure staining your vision. "tell me I'm not the only crazy one baby"
You bit your lip to stifle a moan as you felt yourself grow closer to a release.
"shit- you look so fucking hot when you're about to come"
"I-" your eyes were squeezed shut, but you could feel the heat of his stare on you, the way his eyes never left you, not even as he kissed your neck, the soft stubble of his mustache tickling your skin "I've thought about it too javi"
The satisfied groan he let out told you just about everything you needed to know.
"When?" he asked, his voice hoarse, his fingers relentless
"A-always" you whimpered, "e-everytime I look at you"
shit- maybe you shouldn't have said that
"yeah?" a wolfish grin tugged at his lips "You think about me? about my cock? my fingers? my tongue?"
You mewled at his words, at the memory they brought with them, at how fucking good he was making you feel-
"J-Javi please"
"what?" he breathed, his mouth on yours again, your hips grinding shamelessly onto his hand "You're gonna come baby, 's that it?"
"y-yeah- fuck- I-"
he knew the signs by now, he knew those desperate breathless sounds you made just as you reached your peak- and god did he fucking love them
"come for me- come baby" he murmured, his lips crushing with yours to stifle your moans just as your walls spasmed around his digits- wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body.
Oh how he loved seeing the strong fiery woman he saw every day come apart beneath him, all your walls crumbling down 'till there was just pure lust and pleasure beneath your eyes, 'till your body went limp and clung to him for support.
"fuck" you breathed your eyes finally opening again, only to find that his had never left yours. "I-" you gulped, but his lips were on yours again, his hands holding your face on each side, his fingers now out of you.
"w-we should get back," you said, mostly trying to remind yourself, of where you really were, of what you were really doing... but it was all so difficult when he was looking at you like that- when you could feel his hard cock straining against his jeans- the same one that had felt so fucking good inside of you.
"we should" he agreed, although a twisted grin played on his lips.
he was already kissing you again, exploring you again, and in no time you found yourself caged between him and a shelf filled with boxes of evidence, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck.
Damn him
"People are gonna start wondering where we are"
"we're here... looking at evidence," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, his hips grinding onto you, his mouth on the corner of your lips.
"fuck- fine," you murmured, the need for him stronger than anything at this point, even than the fear of getting fired.
He didn't waste a second- his dick was out in a heartbeat, and your panties were pulled to the side before you had even time to breathe.
His tip, his red, glistening tip found your entrance, making you gasp.
"c-condom" you suddenly remembered, your voice so feeble it was almost inaudible "Please tell me you've got a condom"
"fuck- you're right" he muttered, frustration tracing his tone "I should have one in my wallet"
Of course he had one in his wallet
His left hand reached into his back pocket, finding his wallet and taking the condom out of it as quickly as he could, throwing the wallet somewhere to the side.
You were supporting yourself all on your own as he rolled the condom onto his dick, which might sound easy... but seeing the state of your leg it really was a miracle.
It was all so fast, he seemed desperate as he guided his tip to your entrance, as he gripped your waist and kissed your lips while entering you.
He was so fucking big, definitely the biggest one you'd ever encountered, and not only that... but he fucking knew how to use it too.
It was impossible not to moan, and for him, it was impossible not to groan- let's just say the possibility of getting caught wasn't first on the list of things in your mind at the moment.
"fuckfuckfuck" you whimpered, letting out a soft cry when he finally bottomed out
"Jesus Christ you feel fucking perfect" he growled, his eyes on yours, his hands gripping your waist as he tried his best to give you a moment to adjust and not start to fuck you like an animal right away.
"J-Javi"
And that, that little plead in your voice was all he needed to hear.
There was no way the sound of your skin slapping with his couldn't be heard from outside.
He felt so fucking good- criminally so.
"oh my g-" you had to bite down on something, and the little sliver of skin his shirt didn't cover right where his shoulder met his neck seemed much too perfect for your need.
He groaned, the bastard fucking groaned in pleasure as your teeth sank down into his skin, and you swore to god you could have come from that sound alone.
Your hands were laced between his neck, fingers taking hold of whatever hair you could grab, as he thrust up into you like a man starved, and you did all you could to meet his movements with the same urgency.
It had only been a week, and yet it felt like it'd been an eternity- a torturous, awful eternity of daying yourself of this.
"been thinking about this every fucking minute this week" his voice was breathy, hoarse, as he whispered to your ear "about this perfect fucking pussy of yours- about your mouth, about how- Fuck me-" his own growl interrupted him, your walls were squeezing him much too fucking tight "how good you taste, how hot you look when I'm eating you out- about this fucking perfect body of yours" he purred "Jesus christ you make me lose my mind"
You couldn't help but moan, moan at his words, at his pace, at the way his touch sent sparks flying in your belly- it was all too much.
"You've gotta be quiet baby" he murmured as you raised your head to look at him, to beg him for something- anything.
"I know sweetheart, I know" he breathed, his lips skimming yours "I know issa lot"
And to think you couldn't even stand him seven days ago... look at you now- looking into his eyes pleadingly as he fucked you in the evidence room.
"Javi" you could only breathe as his mouth crashed with yours once again, "I'm gonna-"
"I know"
Of course he knew
And just like that, you were over the edge, his tongue in your mouth muffling your cries as his thrust got more erratic, and somehow even more powerful.
Once again, he'd given you the best orgasm of your life.
He tried to hold off to let you ride it out, but fuck him it was proving to be real fucking difficult.
And then you opened your eyes- your beautiful, dreamy, eyes that he'd been dreaming of for days and there was no point in fighting it anymore-
"F-fuck y/n- fuck-"
There was a loud thud somewhere behind you, but neither of you cared enough to look, or god forbid stop- there was only you, you, and the spectacular groan Javier fed you into a kiss as he finally reached his climax.
There was only the sound of your breathing, both your heavy breathings as you looked at each other- and then you smiled, and he couldn't help but do the same.
And then all of the sudden the sounds from the office started flowing into the room again.
Oh right
"we really have to get back"
"yeah" he halfheartedly agreed, slowly setting you back on your feet, only in doing so, something caught your eye.
"fuck"
There were files on the floor- there were files on the floor because you'd knocked down some of the boxes of evidence- and you hadn't even noticed.
Javier followed your line of sight, but while panic was setting in your heart, he began to smile
"don't laugh!" you hissed, "what the fuck do we do? How do we explain this?"
"we don't" he simply shrugged, closing his zipper back up as you quickly tried to make yourself presentable.
"What?"
"we were never here- now, get back out there"
"I-"
"trust me" he said, retrieving his wallet from the floor.
And for some fucking reason, you did- you trusted him.
"I hate you so much" you muttered, finally exiting the room.
Tg:@fallout-girl219
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whxtedreams · 1 year ago
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When You're Sick
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Summary: Drabbles about how they would look after you when you're sick/unwell.
Word Count: 3.5k
Tags: Fluff, comfort, they're just soft babies, I am sick while writing these, Javier being a soft jerk - he means well, Din doing his best, Frankie just being a soft bf, Joel is nothing but caring, sick!reader
Characters: Joel Miller, Din Djarin, Frankie Morales, Javier Peña
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Joel Miller
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Joel: How’s my baby girl doing? You: Honestly Joel, I have a killer headache and just want to go home. 
Joel frowns at the small screen in his hand before he looks down at the shirt he is ironing. He had planned on surprising you and taking you out to dinner tonight since Sarah was at a friend's house for the night but he quickly scraps that idea.
Joel: Come over after work  You: I just said I wasn’t feeling well… Joel: No funny business. Promise 
Joel spends the afternoon bringing every pillow and blanket he owns into the living room. He drags chairs from the dining room and drapes blankets over them, making a nice dark blanket fort in his living room. He digs around in the Christmas storage boxes in the garage until he finds battery operated warm fairy lights that Sarah begged him for one year. With a few grunts and mumbled swears, he manages to hang them on the chairs within the blanket fort, hoping you liked it and it wasn’t too bright. 
He checks his watch that Sarah fixed for his birthday last year and swears when he notices the time. 4:24pm, you’d be over any minute now. He scrambles around the living room making the last final touches. He rushes up to Sarah’s room and looks through her cupboard for her small candle collection. As he goes to grab a vanilla scented candle, he freezes as he remembers you mentioning that the heavy scents make your headaches worse. 
Okay – so no candles then. 
He’s taking the stairs two at a time when he hears your knock on his door, still not wanting to let yourself in even though he’s told you on multiple occasions that you’re more than welcome in his house. 
Joel opens the door after turning the last light off by the front door and his smile drops as he sees the pain behind your eyes. He takes hold of your hand and you sigh as you enter the dark house. 
He gently guides you into the living room and watches you as you take in the space he made for you, a small smile falling to his lips at your soft expression. Your arms are around him in an instant as his hand wraps around your shoulders, his other hand softly rubbing your head, hoping to ease a little of your pain. 
He lifts your head to look up at him when he feels the subtle shake in your chest as he hears you try to muffle a cry. “What’s wrong?” He quietly asks. 
“Nothing, my head just hurts and this is beautiful.” You reply as you turn your head to look over at the pillow fort, the soft warm glow illuminating the room from inside the blankets. 
“Come.” Joel offers as he detaches your hands from his waist and continues to guide you into the living room. He lifts a corner of a blanket and ushers you inside. He crouches at the entrance as you crawl in, taking in the small bowls of snacks and fruit carefully placed on the edge of the blankets and pillows. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll go get you some pain killers, and fresh popcorn, yeah?” He asks and you eagerly nod in agreement. 
On his return, he shoves the bowl inside before crawling in, thankful for the softness of the blankets on his old knees. You take an overly big handful of popcorn and shove it to your mouth, small crumbs falling into your lap. He hands you a bottle of water and the pills and you struggle to swallow the popcorn before you take the pain killers. 
“How’s your head?” Joel asks as he pushes your hair behind your ear. 
“Think it might end up being a migraine.” You sigh as you pull a blanket over your lap, the crumbs falling into the pillow beneath you. The father in him dusts it to the side without thought, years of cleaning up after Sarah subconsciously implanted into his brain. “Might take tomorrow off work.” You mumble as you lay down, nestling into the pillows. 
Joel huffs as he picks up the popcorn bowl and your hand shoots out from the blanket, tugging it back beside you. “Darlin, if it’s that bad, then let's forget about the popcorn, the snacks and the blanket fort and get you to bed.” 
You frown as you pull the blanket up to your chin and hum in protest. “No. This is nice, I don’t want to move.” You grumble. 
“You sure? I know it's comfortable but if it’s turning into a migraine, you should go lay down.” Joel offers as he leans on his elbow, his other hand slowly tracing your body over the blanket. 
You sigh at the touch and close your eyes, smiling. “Really, it’s nice and dark in here. You did a good job, it’s sweet. I just want to stay here with you.” You open your eyes and look up at him and his heart clenches in his chest.  “But I'll let you take me to bed if it gets worse, deal?” 
Joel’s fingers grip onto the blanket before he soothes the blanket on you. “Yeah, okay. But if I even see the slightest hint of it getting worse, I'm taking you straight to bed, no arguments.” He says in a false firm declaration. Knowing full well that you won't do anything you don't want to.
“Deal.” You say on an exhale as you hug the pillow under your head. 
Joel leans over and kisses your temple, soothing a hand over your hair and you sigh at the touch. 
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Din Djarin
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Din knows something is wrong when the cockpit is silent for more than a few hours. You had muttered that you were going to go lay down a mere six hours ago, and he didn’t think anything of it, thinking you just needed rest. 
When it hits hour eight, he descends the ladder in search of you. He finds you curled in on yourself in his bed. His bed. He stands there blinking at you for a moment before looking around in search of anything that could explain what was going on. Nothing.  
He says your name but you don't move an inch. He sighs before he wraps a gloved hand around your ankle, instantly making you recoil from his touch as your leg curls into your chest. 
Okay, so not asleep then. 
“What’s wrong with you?” Din asks as kindly as he can but he knows it came off harsh, he normally does. 
“Nothing. Leave me alone.” Your voice is distant and weak and he’s taken back by how you sound, not used to anything but your overly positive attitude. 
Din might get frustrated at how lively and energetic you are, but he definitely wouldn't trade it for anything. Your personality is what makes you who you are and he loves – no, tolerates it no matter how hard it is to keep up at times
Your sniffle brings him back to the moment and he tilts his head at the sound. He would have blamed it on his imagination but he hears it again. “You’re crying?” He asks.
“Din, I said leave me alone.” You snap and he raises his eyebrows under his helmet. 
He turns to leave, listening to your demand but he hears you sniffle again and he stops as he sighs, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He turns the lights off, sending the room into darkness. He takes armour off piece by piece, carefully placing them on the floor before he walks back to you in his flight suit. He takes a strip of cloth and leans over you, pressing the fabric in your hand. “Put this on.” He orders. 
It’s now you finally look over your shoulder and frown at his lack of usual Beskar. “Wha-” 
“I said put it on, cover your eyes.” He points at the cloth and you slowly nod. He watches as you tie it around your head and waits until you lay back down until he takes his helmet off. 
He crawls into the bunk behind you and tugs your back to his chest, a startled gasp coming from your mouth as he moves you. 
“What are-” 
“Have I done something to upset you?” He asks, worry laced in his unmodulated voice. His bare hand holds onto your stomach as he holds you close to him, your own hand covering his. 
You shake your head as you sniffle again. 
“Then why are you crying cyar'ika?” He pushes as his thumb lazily draws circles on your clothed stomach. 
You shrug in his arms and he slowly nods, his lips landing small kisses to your shoulder. “I don’t like it when you push me away.” He sighs into your neck. 
“I’m sorry.” 
He turns his hand from your stomach and holds your hand, squeezing it. “Talk to me cyar'ika. Please.” 
“I don’t know, I don’t know why I feel this way.” You almost choke on your words as you sniffle again and he squeezes your hand again. 
“That’s okay. We can lay here for as long as you need mesh’la.”   
And you do just that, until you turn in his arms and wrap your arms around him. Your head resting on his chest and you sigh contently.
“Feeling better?” He asks as he kisses the top of your head. 
“Sort of.” 
“Anything I can do to fix that?”
“Just hold me.” 
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Frankie Morales
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To say that he’s in a good mood would be an understatement. Why is Frankie in a good mood? Well, that’s easy, he knows you’re at home waiting for him when he gets home from work. As much as he hated that you were gone before he woke in the mornings, coming home to you made your difference in working hours that much better. 
You’ve been living together for an easy month now and that blissful honeymoon stage never seems to end, and frankly, he doesn’t think it will. 
His mood does however falter when he opens the front door and he doesn’t hear you. Normally there would be the smell of dinner or the sound of music but there’s nothing. Which he thinks is completely fine, just out of the ordinary. He calls your name, thinking maybe you’re in the backyard by the pool but he hears your grumble from the living room.
Okay… 
He cautiously enters the living room, his head peeking around the corner before the rest of his body. 
His happy mood completely vanishes at the sight of you gripping your stomach and taking deep breaths as you lay on the lounge. He rushes to the couch and kneels in front of you. He places his hand on your stomach as his other hand wipes the hair fallen on your face. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He asks, a frown settling on his face. 
“‘M fine.” you grumble and he shakes his head. He’s about to protest but you continue, “Just a bad period, ‘m fine.” You say before your breath falters, your hand gripping onto your own shirt. 
He sighs in relief, his forehead resting on yours as he begins to rub your lower stomach. He pushes himself from you and sits on his heels as he looks down at you. “Why didn’t you text me? I could have brought some stuff home?” He asks as he moves his hand to hold yours. 
“It’s okay.” You sigh as you sit up and his hands rests on your thighs as he looks up at you, his hands slowly running up and down your thighs. 
“Do you have everything you need? I can go to the supermarket, it’s no problem baby.”
You nod as you reach out and run a hand through his hair and he closes his eyes and sighs at the touch before snapping his eyes open and swatting your hand away with a playful frown. “Stop it – it’s supposed to be me looking after you.” He laughs as you roll your eyes. 
“Frankie–”
“Nope, you sit right there, Doctor Frankie will look after you.” He grins as he leans in to kiss your forehead before standing from the couch. 
“Babe–” 
“You’re stuck with me now, your fault for moving in.” He teases as he reaches to take your hands in his. “We can order in if you like? Chinese?” He offers and you nod with a smile. “Perfect! I’ll go get you a heat pack and some chocolate from my stash.”
Your head snaps to him as he moves to go into the kitchen. “You have a hidden chocolate stash?” Your words rushed and your jaw hangs open in shock. 
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He snickers as he enters the kitchen. He reaches for the back of the cupboard and takes out a box of cereal you hate and empty the chocolate onto the kitchen counter. 
“IS THERE CHOCOLATE IN THIS HOUSE YOU’RE NOT TELLING ME ABOUT?” you yell from the living room and it takes everything he has not to burst out laughing at your reaction. The exact reason he began hiding the chocolate when you moved in. 
He walks back in with the warm heat pack and block of chocolate and you snatch the bar from his hand. “I will tear this house apart Frankie.” You mutter as you open it and shove a whole row into your mouth. 
He falls into the couch beside you and smiles down at you as you moan at the taste, your eyes closing in bliss. He reaches around your shoulder and tugs you into his side and you willingly snuggle into him. He rests the heat pack on your stomach and you sigh at the feeling.
He finds it oddly amusing that your entire mood changes at the consumption of chocolate, that all the pain you were feeling vanishes. He knows that’s impossible, but it’s cute. He does however rub your stomach at every strained breath, trying to take your focus away from the cramps you felt. 
“Thank you.” You smile as you rest your head on his shoulder. 
“Anything for you baby.”
“Will you tell me where you hide the chocolate?”
“Oh, not a chance.”   
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Javier Peña
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Javier lifts his hand to knock on your apartment door for the fifth time. His foot taps on the carpet below him and he sighs in frustration as he hears no sign of movement inside. 
“Fuckin’ hell.” He mutters as he digs in his pocket for the space key you gave him; for emergencies only. He really didn’t want to walk into your apartment uninvited but he considers this an emergency.  
It’s been just shy of a week since you last showed up at work, just shy of a week since he last ran into you in the hallways of the apartment complex you shared.
He slowly pushes open the door, half expecting you to start yelling at him – but you don’t. 
He spots the pile of dirty dishes in the sink first and he instantly knows something is wrong since you’re always nagging him for leaving his empty coffee mugs on your desk at work, hating the mess he made just to annoy you. 
He spots the couch next, blankets and pillows left unattended with used tissues covering the floor. Gross. 
He moves to your bedroom door, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed as he looks at you in your bed. Your eyes are closed and your chest struggles on each inhale, the sound of your blocked nose filling the room. He almost laughs at that, hearing you snore – but then remembers that you’re actually sick. Great. 
Not wanting to disturb your sleep, he moves to leave. 
“Please tell me you’re here to put me out of my misery.” You groan as you sit up, wiping the snot dripping down from your nose. 
He scrunches his nose at the sight, ignoring the way he wants to rush to get you a tissue. 
“Your place is a mess.” He says instead as he looks down at the sea of tissues both in your bed and the floor and instantly feels guilty as you start coughing, your hand clutching at your chest. 
He frowns then, wanting to rush to your aid but he doesn’t. His feet feel as if they’re concreted to the ground, not allowing him to set foot in your bedroom. 
“You’re welcome to clean up if it bothers you, because I ain't doing it.” You mutter as you collapse back into your pillows. “While you’re at it, can you get me a heat pack?” 
Yeah, he can do that. It’s the least he can do, right? 
He pushes off from your doorframe and walks the short distance to your med cabinet above your stove. He takes the purple sack from the cabinet and tosses it into the microwave as he leans against the counter. He taps his foot as he looks down at the countless plates and half empty take away containers. 
He takes the pack when the microwave beeps and strides back to your room, freezing in the doorway before sighing and walking over to your side. He outstretches his hand and offers you the pack. He pulls it back however as he sees sweat trickle down your forehead as you shiver. He places the back of his hand to your forehead and swears. 
“You’re burning up.” He frowns as you grab for the heat pack. “This is the last thing you need.” 
“But I’m cold Javi,” You whine and he shakes his head. 
“When was the last time you took any Tylenol? Or had a damn shower?” He asks and you shrug. 
He sighs again and walks back into the kitchen, tossing the useless heat pack on the counter along with all your other mess and opens the cabinet again, taking out the container you use to store all your medications. He digs through it and takes out the Tylenol packet and groans when it’s empty. He looks up at the ceiling and closes his eyes. 
Of course it’s empty, why wouldn't it be?
It’s then and there he decides he’s dragging you out of this apartment and into his own. Because there’s no way in hell he’s leaving you here when you’re doing what seems to be a very poor job at looking after yourself. 
He walks back into your room without hesitation this time and grabs onto your hands. You groan as he lifts you to sit up. “What are you doing?” You ask with a frown as he continues to lift you from the bed. 
“Comin’ ‘cross the hall with me.”
“What?”
“You’re going to take a shower, take the Tylenol that I actually have and sleep in a bed that’s not full of snotty tissues.” He softly orders as he drags you across your bedroom. He stops in the middle of your room as he looks down at your snot covered pyjamas. He moves over to your dresser and takes out the first set he sees and continues to march you back to his place. 
You sigh in defeat and follow him, because let’s be honest – you’re in no shape to argue with him right now. 
He hands you the set of clean pyjamas and pushes you into his bathroom. He waits until he hears the shower start before he moves into his bedroom, quickly cleaning up the dirty clothes from his floor and shoving them into the hamper he bought, telling himself that he would actually use it. He hasn’t.  
He pours a cold glass of water and sets two pills on the counter. He stares at the counter and scratches the back of his head, maybe some tea?  
He opens his pantry and kneels as he searches for the box of tea he knows you left here months ago when he had nothing you wanted to drink that last time you were there. He pushes cans around until he finds the box tucked away. 
By the time you exit his bathroom, you look like a different person. Not quite healthy, but no longer looking like you’re on your deathbed. He ushers you into his bedroom and you protest when he motions for you to get into the bed. 
“Get your fuckin’ ass into this bed.” He orders without a hint of anger and you roll your eyes as you do what he says. 
He comes back in with the water, pills and tea. He places the hot tea on his bedside table and hands you the pills and water. You smile as you thank him and he looks around his room, not knowing how to take your thanks. 
“Yeah, well can’t really have you dying across the hall. They’d think it was me.” He jokes instead and you laugh before it sets off another cough and he swears at himself for making you cough.
“Right ��� well, get some sleep.” He mutters to the floor before he leaves, leaving the door open a crack in case you need something. 
He waits until he hears you snore before he walks over to your apartment and begins cleaning. 
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Notes
I am so sick pls tag me in sick!reader fics
My desk is covered in tissues. My bed is covered in tissues. The tissues that make it to my bin, my puppy tips over and starts eating.
506 notes · View notes
thesummerpetrichor · 2 years ago
Text
𝓥𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓸 𝓰𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼
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Dads best friend!Javier Peña x afab!reader
Summary: For years he’d lived in your head like a distant memory. Something too good, too far away to attain. You shouldn’t be so hurt he’d left his old life behind, but how could you not be, when you had been such a big part of it? But you can’t hold a grudge. Not when he’s standing in front of you– doing everything to prove he’s not a stranger.
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, dads best friend trope, morally questionable relationship, minor angst, chunky age gap [reader is in her 20s Javi is in his 40s], banter, lotsa sweet moments, explicit language, explicit sexual content, couch sex, inebriated sex, cigarette and weed smoking, alcohol, dom!javi, sub!reader, pet names [cariño, baby, babygirl etc.], dirty talk, major praise kink! [lotsa good girl action iykwim] some over the clothes action, grinding, fingering, unprotected P in V [ do better!!]. Let me know if I missed anything!! <;3
Word count: 12.8k oops
A/N: Oof this took longer than I thought it would but I’m so excited for you to read it. Javier is the man of my dreams here 🥺. lotsa porn for you nasties. morally questionable relationship fr but it’s fiction so we’ll forgive Javi. I hope you darlings enjoy! Mwah 💗
Masterlist
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Swinging in the backyard
Pull up in your fast car
Whistling my name
Open up a beer
And you say, "Get over here
And play a video game"
The last time you saw him you remember all but tackling him to the ground as he walked through your front door. He had bought you a special edition copy of your favourite Hans Christian Anderson fairy tale, and DVDs of ‘film noir’ movies– the kind your dad didn’t like you watching. You spent the days reading as he smoked cigars by your pool, and you remember your father joking about his ‘bad influence’ as he poured you drinks in the evenings. 
That was several years ago, and now all you had left of him was a hazy memory of that distant summer, a fading image of his golden eyes glittering in the setting sun, and your copy of “The Little Mermaid”. That had been the last that he’d visited you– before his work got in the way, before he decided he’d rather stay in Bogotá than come home. 
Your life had gone on, and while every year you wondered whether he’d make his grand appearance, as you grew older you came to terms with the realisation that it would just be you and your old man lounging on the patio on those treasured, warm, golden evenings. At university you were pursuing those dreams you always wanted to, the ones your father wasn’t so keen on you chasing, the ones you’d confess to him when he would drive you around the city–  to that faraway ice cream place no one else would take you to. 
He was all cigarettes and whiskey and secret promises.
“He’ll literally kill us, it's midnight.” It was too late, he was grabbing his keys and jacket, and despite your better judgement the thought of the fairy lights by the beach as you walked with your mint chocolate chip cones had you giggling as you followed him out the door. It was your 18th birthday. “He doesn’t need to know now, does he, cariño?” 
He’d telephone your father once in a while, you knew because your house would fill with laughter only invoked by one culprit. You wondered what adventures he was on, were they like the ones he’d tell you as you sat by his side till the early hours of the morning? You wondered if he even remembered– remembered you. 
But now you were in Bogotá, in the sweltering June heat, suitcase in hand, scanning the crowd for a face you barely remembered. You were scared, stupidly so, worried that your physical proximity would do nothing to mend his distance. You worried he wouldn't see you as he did before, wouldn't remember your inside jokes, your mischief, how you’d beg him to take you to that dance bar because your dad didn’t like you going alone. That he had somehow morphed into someone you couldn't recognize. You felt hot all over once again, and this time no thanks to the summer sun. 
Your head turned left to right, and you spotted among the crowd families reuniting, couples kissing hello, young people returning home, lone travellers, lonely travellers, and in the hustle bustle a black leather jacket walking briskly towards you. He looked older, and tired, but his eyes still sparkled the way you remembered, still turned golden when they met the sun. From the distance he spotted you, and you watched expectantly as his furrowed brows relaxed into a calm, almost surprised expression. You felt a little short of breath, felt suddenly larger than life, as he neared you, your mind spinning and hoping, praying that he was still the man you knew. 
“What have you done with my cariño?” 
He was looking down at you with that same smile. Everything about him was really the same. He still smelt like tobacco and cedarwood perfume, still wore the same leather jacket, the same faded, button up shirt– with the first two buttons undone. In a moment you felt your mind's eye reconstruct those waning images of him you once cherished, from the dells of memory. And now you saw him vividly, reclining in his chair, sipping his whiskey, leaning on your porch, hair falling in his face in soft curls as he lit his cigarette. 
He was a lot more handsome than you recalled. 
“Hi” You were smiling so wide your face hurt, and despite the years of his absence there was a familiarity you found comfort in, a sense of belonging, and maybe naively… longing. His hands moved to grab you by the shoulders, and he stepped back to get a good look at you, almost examining how time had passed. “Lookat’ ya, university girl now huh, smart cookie?” The way he looked at you had your heart pitter pattering– with so much pride, and gentleness, and adoration. 
Without any hesitation he pulled you into his chest, wrapping you up in his arms, holding your head against him. Waves of calm washed over you, an immediate reassurance you were desperate for. It was his non reluctance, his lack of worry, the way he brought you into his arms like nothing else mattered.  With a heavy sigh you collapsed into him, all the uneasiness you felt before melting away as you melted into his touch. He felt warm, and strong, and like you’d remembered. 
He was everything you’d remembered. 
You felt yourself relax. It had been a long day, a long time getting away from your father, who, despite the fact that you had been living alone for years now, had called you about a thousand times – reminding you to take all your things, to be careful, and importantly to not get into any trouble. 
If there was one thing everyone knew about Javier, it was that he was trouble, trouble, trouble. 
He was still smiling when he gently pulled away, still looking at you with the same enthusiasm. He was happy to see you. He chuckled as he let go of your shoulders, and you felt your chest swarm with butterflies when he grabbed you by the hand and twirled you around, and in typical Javier fashion produced a white lily from his shirt pocket, and tucked it behind your ear. 
“Welcome to Bogotá cariño” 
You felt your cheeks heat. For as long as you could remember you pretty much idolised him, and the longer you didn’t see him the more distant and adored he had become.  You had worked that distant memory up so much, the memory of that fateful summer, that he’d come to be a symbol of fear and dread in your head. At least until that moment.
You felt silly for ever thinking he’d be different. And there he was, standing right in front of you, putting flowers behind your ear. You mumbled a soft thank you, securing the lily, which was inadvertently an excuse not to meet his overwhelming gaze. 
“Your old man give you a hard time on the way up?”  
You laughed as you rolled your eyes. If there was one person who knew how much of a stickler for organisation and responsibility your father was, it was him. “He gave me an entire list of things to not do”. Javier’s deep baritone joined your laughter, and he shook his head in faux irritation at the mention of his best friend. 
Reaching down for your bags he leaned beside your ear, and you felt your heart race when you turned your head ever so slightly to meet his gaze– at that glimmer in his eyes, his mischievous smile, and raised brow. 
“Well, he’s no fun now, is he?” 
And with that he was heading towards the exit. 
I'm in his favourite sundress
Watchin' me get undressed
Take that body downtown
I say, "You the bestest"
Lean in for a big kiss
Put his favourite perfume on
Go play your video game
“He says I'm like you, y’know?” You leaned your elbow on the open window, knees to your chest as you sat curled up in the passenger seat of his car. His eyes were on the road, but his attention remained on you, and you were instantaneously reminded of your trips to the pier, your mint chocolate chip ice creams, and innocent secrets. 
You felt warm and fuzzy inside, and your eyes wandered the beautiful Colombian city –the colours, and the smell of summer flowers, and food as it wafted out of the mom and pop restaurants you passed. 
“Yeah, you a troublemaker?” He glanced at you momentarily, just in time to catch you rolling your eyes. “”M not, but he thinks Dora’s wreckless for wandering around without her parents.`` His laugh was hearty and he had that smile, that tilt of his head you were sure had all the women around him swooning. You felt your cheeks heat at the thought, especially when he chided you. “Cariño” he dragged out every syllable of that treasured pet name, shaking his head, and raising his brows in your direction, teasingly. “Okay.. maybe I like to have a little fun, but I’m still not like you.” 
Letting out an exaggerated gasp his head whipped towards you. “Fuck’s that supposed to mean?!” Your head was buzzing, he's still the same, the same. 
“I’m good.” He rounded the corner, and you couldn’t help but wonder who else had been in the passenger side of his car, getting this view you so cherished. You didn’t know why you cared, or why you were even wondering in the first place. It wasn’t any of your business, but somewhere deep down it made your heart ache. 
“I know you are honey.. Thought your dad was gonna’ have a fuckin’ heart attack when he called me.” You could only imagine. The poor man. The thought of him persuading Javier to convince you to stay with him for the sake of his peace of mind making you giggle. 
“Can you blame him? It was either you or Maria, and somehow you're the better of the two evils.” When you decided to come to Bogotá you originally planned to stay with one of your  close friends from university. She had offered you a room in her apartment for as long as you needed. The both of you had applied for the same summer program, and were looking forward to spending your vacation together. That was before you confessed that a certain somebody also lived in Bogotá. A somebody you weren’t initially keen on meeting again. Somebody you had planned to avoid at any cost during your stay. 
You weren’t really sure why– if you wanted to keep him away out of spite, or convenience, or fear, but all you did know was that when Maria had practically forced you to ask your dad to give Javier a call you were nothing short of petrified. She would not let it go, even said you’d regret not meeting him, better yet staying with him after how much you’d talked him up in the time you knew her. She was so confident she placed a bet you’d give up her house for his in less than forty eight hours. 
“I’m a cop, I’m the obvious choice here cariño” His confidence was charming. He was deceptively charming. 
“Yeah. A terrible one.” 
“Was a little shocked you wanted to see me..” sometimes you really thought he could read your mind. Not just in that moment, in fact he had a habit of hitting on right whatever you were thinking about, whatever was bothering you, things you felt you couldn’t tell anyone else because they wouldn’t understand. You were not sure if and how you wanted to respond, and if you did honestly whether he would know how much the whole situation had preoccupied you. 
“Strictly practical. Wanted to see if you remembered me..” 
“‘Course I remember you, been haunting me like a little ghost since I last visited..”. you thought you might just explode at his teasing. You asked yourself if he was being truthful, if he truly thought about you, about how he’d up and left. 
“You’re the one that disappeared into thin air!” Undeniably, despite the laughter and banter there was a tension in the air– floating between the two of you heavy and low. But what was he expecting?  
Thankfully, the car came to a slow and gradual stop at the side of a small side street, where you spotted a small glass door over which flowers blooming from the floor above had been cascading. “Where are we?” 
“Mint chocolate chip”  One hand on the wheel, the other grabbing his keys, he looked at you as he spoke, so matter of factly it made your heart flutter. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “No pier, or fairy lights though, and no thrill of running from your papa.” 
He remembered. 
Heart bursting with love ache, you weren’t really sure what to say. As if he had anticipated your fears he seemed like he was coaxing you into your natural rhythm. Reminding you he wasn’t some stranger whose house you were staying in out of convenience. That you knew him, and that he knew you, remembered you. 
“Thank god for the last one..” The memory fluttered between you two– the same thoughts, hovering between your heads. He was opening the door, taking a quick check of the traffic. You stayed put, finding your bearings. With one hand extended he beckoned you towards him, offering his arm when you hopped out the car on wobbly feet.  “Oh hush, you loved it, cariño. And he knew, I told him the next day.”
With locked arms you crossed the street, and as if no time had passed you had squished yourself to his side, and had smacked him against the shoulder lightly at his admission. “What?! Traitor!” 
“I handled it.” He sounded quite impressed with himself, and when you tilted your head and locked eyes with him you noticed how he looked quite impressed as well. You pressed your cheek against his arm, the leather of his jacket brushing against your warm cheeks.
“You were always the fun one.”
A large ‘OPEN’ sign stared you blank in the face, that was until Javier had gently tucked a finger under your chin, and delicately directed your eyes towards him. “He’s your dad, ‘s not supposed to be the fun one..” he softly remarked, his smile remained, and you felt nothing but warmth, and comfort from his presence. 
The moment fell naturally, and he reached forward to pull the door open for you, letting skip ahead of him and into the store.  “Feels like my 18th all over again.” 
It's you, it's you, it's all for you
Everything I do
I tell you all the time
Heaven is a place on earth with you
Tell me all the things you wanna do
I heard that you like the bad girls
Honey, is that true?
“You're the boss Peña, give me the word, and it’s done.” You caught Javier’s reflection in the mirror as you sat down to get ready. Fresh out the shower it took about three seconds for the summer heat to get back at you. He liked to keep his place freezing, and at times like that you could only be grateful– the cool air soothing your scorched skin. 
Carillo, Murphy– you could recognize the voices as they bounced off the wall, the same men you’d met when they barged into his home unceremoniously at six in the morning. You would have preferred to meet them in actual clothes rather than your pyjamas, and maybe outside instead of infront of your concerningly large cup of coffee, but they seemed to be used to finding unexpected guests in Javier’s apartment early in the morning. 
Regardless of the fact that they’d interrupted your quiet breakfast with Javier, they were really nice people. Carillo’s wife even sent some snacks over with him the next time he visited. One because she wanted you to try the local food, and two because “Javier had nothing in his kitchen.” 
“I will. soon as that dick Stechner gets out of my fuckin’ way” reaching to put you necklace on you watched as Javier moved out of your field of vision for a quick moment, returning with a glass filled with ice and an ashtray. What were they talking about? You never really asked about his job, you'd tried to talk him out of it many times, but he never budged. One day he hated it, one day he didn’t. 
What he was like at work was a point of endless curiosity for you– he just seemed so different. If you were being honest he seemed like an asshole. In the few times you’d seen him interact with his partners he’d barely cracked a smile, trading in his joking and teasing for curt jabs or looks of disapproval. He also admittedly liked ordering people around, telling them what to do. His phone rang about five thousand times a day, and each answered call was punctuated with an air of control, indifference, and the steady and constant confidence of a man who knew what the hell he was doing. And did not like to be questioned about it. The only people who seemed to break the ice were the two he was speaking to at that moment. 
“Javi, think this one through, don’t be fuckin crazy.” The voices drowned out as you put your attention back to getting ready. Maria was right. By the time you called her the evening of your arrival you had abandoned all plans to escape Javier's home for hers. She was in hysterics, endlessly pulling your leg over the whole situation. Your overthinking, your panic, your regret, and most obviously your complete infatuation. 
She had picked you up the next morning, and had impersonated you the entire ride to the university. You hoped that you didn’t sound the way she said you did when you spoke of him, that you weren’t all heart eyes. It only made you worried about what you sounded like when you spoke to him. 
With your bag tucked under your arm you grabbed your shoes off the floor, heading towards the dining table. “You got work this evening?” you were hoping he didn’t. His eyes lifted off his work to watch you shuffle around the small kitchen.  Opening the fridge you grabbed a bottle of chilled water, and leaned against the closed door as you spoke. 
“Depends if they call me in, they’re tracking some radio signals so we’re sitting tight till then.” He was leaning back in his chair in absolute exhaustion. Knowing that his day started around seven thirty, and never seemed to end, you didn't blame him. The few days you had been staying at his place he’d join you for dinner and be right back to work in a second. This job of his pretty much consumed him, and judging by his commitment you understood why he had no time for anyone or anything else. The guy was practically married to his job. His job and his co-workers, that is. You wouldn’t be surprised if Murphy and Carillo’s wives were envious of how much quality time Javier got to spend with their husbands. 
“So you’re staying up until they get back to you?” You didn't mean to sound so perplexed, but you were. Mostly at how unpredictable his hours were. Did he really want to leave the quiet, laid back life at home for whatever this was? He crossed his arms over his chest, and spoke to you in between puffs of his cigarette. 
“Yes, cariño, I'm in my forties, dont got a bedtime.”  The man could barely keep his eyes open, and when he lifted his glass to his lips you felt a little better about ditching him for your fun night out. Of course you wanted to sit with him, have him talk about everything under the sun, like he used to, but you didn’t want to be another thing he had to worry about. 
You barely got to speak to him outside meal times. If he stayed home, safe to say he’d be preoccupied, and if he didn’t it would be just you, and the white noise in his empty apartment, like it had been for the past four nights you had been there. 
The man looked like he needed a cup of tea. You reached for the kettle, pushing it on and leaning against the closed fridge door. “They tell you that at the old people's home?” Grabbing your buzzing phone off the counter you moved towards his surprisingly organised kitchen drawers, in which there was little besides some tea bags, coffee beans, jam, canned fruits and bars of candy. That combined with the eggs, bread and milk in his fridge came to make an almost comical representation of what most people would consider a bachelor's desolate pantry. 
Your eyes shifted to the illuminated screen of your phone, an unread message staring back at you. 
Maria: Leaving in five &lt;3
As you took the bubbling kettle off the burner you made a mental note, reaching for a cup, and a tea bag from the unopened box of earl grey you were pretty certain Javier did not buy for himself, rather became the owner of thanks to one of the nice old ladies who lived opposite him. 
“Somones in a mood today huh?” It was then you realised he had abandoned his work to watch you trudge around his kitchen barefoot in your little party outfit, one hand rested on his chin, one leg crossed over the other as he leant back in his wooden dining table chair. 
The teabag bobbed in the steaming water a couple of times, before you were pulling it out and tossing it in the trash. You grabbed his blue mug by the handle– some generic, machine made ceramic devoid of any personality, something you’d probably find in a show home. It looked like it had always been sitting on his kitchen shelf, only seeing the light of day every once in a while when he ditched his liquor cabinet for the coffee machine on the far end of the counter. Knowing him that wasn’t often.
“I'm kidding .”
“Well cariño I was thinking we could go to the dance bar tomorrow, but now I guess I'll have to stay home and rest my old knees.” He looked so surprised when you placed the mug in front of him, rested on a white paper napkin. It was almost like he had expected you to make it for yourself. The chair made a slight squeak against the floor as you pulled it back and took a seat, pulling his glass, now lined with the slight golden residue of whiskey, towards you. He was still surprised, a little taken back even, but not in offence, rather a tender, grateful smile tugged at his lips. 
“Since when do you dance?” With your focus no longer split between tasks you turned back to the conversation at hand. Making sure to emphasise you remembered just how uncharacteristic Javier’s little suggestion was. 
He took a sip of the earl grey, leaning forward and letting his shoulders fall ever so slightly. The glimmer of a distant memory played in his eyes as he met your gaze.“I don’t. But you do.” Your little reminiscence played in the back of your head like a movie reel, the soft sound of music from the dance bar by your house hanging in the air. As if transported into a distant dream you could see clusters of people twirling and dancing with the beat, like little ghosts behind Javier as he spoke. 
“And who am I going to dance with” When you said those words out loud you meant for them to sound a whole lot more utilitarian than they ended up sounding. Whether it was hope, or some odd suggestion you were in no mood to unpack where from deep in your subconscious that had come. All you could wish for is that he didn’t notice. 
“Plenty of people at the bar who’d love to dance with my darling.” And there it was, that answer you dreaded, delivered with that signature smile, with that warm, twinkling light in his eyes. “You don't have work tomorrow?” unable to bear the thought you moved along to more practical matters. 
He was already halfway through that cup of tea, and like his body was in the middle of some sort of spiritual cleanse you could see him resurface somewhat coherent and with eyes that weren’t half as dead as they were two minutes ago.“‘S friday, need the time off. Besides, I'd kick myself if I didn't make good on your time here. These fuckers still gonna be around when youre gone.” Sometimes you wondered if he was talking more to himself than he was to you. 
You felt a little buzzing in your purse, and you rummaged through it to find your phone. A text from Maria reminding you you needed to leave. “Yeah, you're gonna sit at the bar like a senior citizen while I have some fun?” 
Rising from your seat you searched the room for the last of your things. Notwithstanding the lack of time he had put into making the place home there were still small elements of him scattered throughout that little two bedroom. The fresh flowers in a glass vase on his centre table, framed pictures and art he’d been collecting over the years, small artefacts he’d brought back from his travels. It was so odd, the whole place stood suspended somewhere between home and a place far from it. Familiar yet distant. 
“Hey, they’ve got great drinks.”
He finished the last of his tea, and you picked up his mug and set it in the kitchen sink, running it under the tap water for a quick second to rinse it. Truth be told, you just wanted to sit and chat, and if half heartedly doing the dishes was going to give you a few more minutes with him you’d take it.“Don’t get too excited old man, I'm not driving us home.”
“I can take a few cariño, ‘m not like you.” You travelled to where you’d dropped your heels. 
“Slander.” pausing momentarily in the middle of putting on your shoes you lifted your head to find him looking back at you. His eyes had seemingly followed you all the way behind him, and he was still smiling. Had you not had one hand on his couch holding you in place you just might have tumbled over.  
“You be careful tonight, and don’t walk anywhere alone, especially if it's past ten. I know you– can't even read a damn map, so no wandering around, call me.” It looked like he had already given up on you, one hand rushing to his face to rub his tired eyes, the other plastered to the table. He was shaking his head the way he did when he caught you sneaking out your house one summer. 
“I’ll think about it.” of course you were going to call him, you didn't need an excuse. But you liked to see him all agitated, bossing you around like you knew he liked to do. With everyone, that is.
“No no, you're gonna call me when you get there, and you're gonna call me when you leave, and you're gonna tell me exactly how, and with whom you're gettin back.” You were already at the door, hoping to escape him, but he was yelling your name in that exasperated voice, and you heard him shuffle from his seat to stand up– catch you and drag you back in case that was necessary. 
“But-” Turning to meet his peering form over the wall of his living room you parted your lips, attempting to protest, playfully, but still protest, but he wasn't having any excuses. 
He was doing that thing where he looked at you with his soft eyes, slightly downturned, and the look could convince you to do just about anything, made you feel like you’d rather die than let them down. Anybody else’s nagging would have got you on your last nerve, but you only felt warmth, concern and care when he did it. Hell he could throw you off his roof and you’d still think the same. 
“No buts, no excuses. Thats final” You giggled, half because he sounded so much like a boring old man, and half because he was now leaning against the wall, with the top buttons of his shirt undone, and his hands on his hips, hair dishevelled from when he’d combed his fingers through it. 
“You sound like him..” With brows raised you looked at him expectantly, taunting him with your teases, and you nearly jumped out the door when he walked towards you, ready to grab you back to him as you escaped. Any insult was better than being compared to your dad, especially in this context. “Don't you say that, cariño” He was laughing, and you were laughing, and his otherwise quiet apartment building was now singing with an uncharacteristic gleam, a glow, a gaiety. 
Your shoes clicked against the floors as you scurried away, turning one last time to see him leaning against his door frame, shaking his head as he watched you skip into the night. “I don't make the rules old man”. You heard him chuckle behind you as you ‘sing songed’ your words, your heart fluttering when you noticed he waited for you to get outside before he closed his front door. 
It's better than I ever even knew
They say that the world was built for two
Only worth living if somebody is loving you
And, baby, now you do
“Thought I told you not to wander around alone, cariño.” You jumped, but it was too late, he had wrapped you up in his arms, and you were pressed up against his chest, and his voice was a low whisper in your ear. And you were dizzy. The alcohol in your system only partly responsible for your petrified squeak, wavering voice, and the way you swayed gently in his embrace. But when he kissed the top of your head ever so gently you could only giggle, recognising that warm hold, that faint smell of whisky on his shirt. 
“Psycho, you scared the shit outta me.” He was laughing when you turned around, exhausted, defeated almost, but his eyes were gleaming in the moonlight, and you felt yourself all but swoon at the way he was looking down at you.  “You’re lucky I'm the only psycho you ran into” Grabbing your face in his hands each word he spoke was punctuated with hyperbole, and a teasing disbelief. Your own hands shot up to grab his, and your cold palms thawed at the touch. You were sure you felt your heartbeat in your throat when his thumbs brushed the swell of your cheeks, you were sure he could feel the way they grew hot under his rough hands. “Just came out for a smoke, don’t go into cardiac arrest now” your fallen cigarette crumpled under your foot when you stepped on it, and in the midst of your eye roll you watched as he stepped back to look at you in faux disapproval. 
“Look at ya’, terrible.” He motioned his head towards the trampled butt on the ground below you. “Me? Terrible?” When you closed the distance between the both of you you stepped on it again, hearing it crush under your shoes, and shoved his shoulder playfully, poking his chest with your pointer finger. “Drinking on the job again old man?” Then he laughed again, this time at your playful yet truthful accusation, and the sound made you feel lighter than a feather. How could one person be so charming, so charismatic, at one in the morning? Like he was divulging a trade secret he raised his brow. “Keeps me awake.”
The blaring music in the club was muffled in the distance as you walked towards the steps of the church in front of you, the quiet and empty street echoing your footsteps. He walked beside you, kept you close on that pleasant summer night. When you turned your head your eyes caught a group of men huddled by a small food stall at the side of the street, hunched over some beers, smoking cigarettes. In the crowd there were two familiar faces. Steve was dressed casually, Carillo and the others in military fatigues. You wondered why he wasn’t walking in their direction, but judging by the look on their faces you concluded there would probably be a better time to do so. Besides, you weren't complaining, he was enough, he always was. 
They shot you a half hearted wave, and two strained smiles from across the road. 
Taking a seat you pat the stone ground beside you, watching as he looked around, almost willing someone to come into sight, one foot on the steps leading up to the cathedral entrance, wringing his hands. “What’re you doing here anyway?” You wondered what he had done that evening, but you knew you were better off not asking. You were glad to have bumped into him, and the last thing you wanted to do in your giggly half tipsy mood was have him explain something you were sure would keep you up at night. Not when he had that look on his face, his work look. 
“Waitin’ on an informant, but someone fucked up and well, we’re back at square one.” he was still searching the street when he bent down to sit beside you, so close your knees bumped. 
You felt your heart race a little when he pulled out what looked like a joint he had rolled moments ago from his shirt pocket, when he leaned back on his arm, lit it and looked up at the sky as he took a drag. You wondered if in your little emotional panic, your worry of his disappearance you had blocked out the memory of his striking, handsome face. You wondered if he had always been this beautiful, this captivating, everything he did set you on fire, the way he carried himself. 
“Smoke a lotta weed for a DEA agent.” 
He turned his head towards you, letting it fall lazily in your direction, and his hair fell in his face the way it did all those years ago, and he shot you that smile that felt like home. “Been a long day cariño”. He was looking back to the sky, but your eyes didn't leave him. He looked so tragic in the moonlight, half lit by its platinum glow. You weren’t sure if it was the liquid courage, or the fact that his shoulder looked more inviting than ever, or the fact that a cool breeze just blew by, and you shivered as it brushed your shoulder, but you leaned your head against him, and you felt your tummy erupt with butterflies when he placed a lingering kiss to your forehead. It was forbearing, and merciful, and you wondered if he had somehow noticed your girlish fawning, your silly admiration, and your heart dropped momentarily, but was soon resuscitated by his soft laughter. 
“Remember those cigarettes of mine you'd steal back in the day.” The breeze had picked up, and it’s cool was far more jarring when it kissed your hot cheeks. “‘S’not stealing… you knew.” you closed your eyes, and let yourself get lost in that comfortable memory. “yeah , could've told your papa” He was looking down at you, but you kept your eyes ahead, too intimidated to meet his gaze. 
“Didn’t” 
“Should’ve” His voice was a mumble beside you, and you found yourself thinking about your dad for the first time in a while, and you were instantly reminded the man you were so taken up by was his best friend, and almost twice your age, and saw you as nothing more than his buddy’s daughter. You stiffened against him. 
He took another drag of his joint. “If he was here right now his blood pressure would be through the roof”. A cold breeze tickled your skin, and he rubbed your shoulder gently and despite the murmured chatter in your head you couldn’t help but melt into his touch. 
“Darling, I can't believe you've been out this long.” He was laughing, and his horrible impression had you in a similar state. Conflict bubbled in your chest, each word slipping past his lips reminded you of your relationship, of your dad, and what he would think if he could peek inside your head, at your little thoughts. You felt guilty, but how could you hold that feeling? Not when he was shaking with joy beside you, not when he had his arm around you the way he did, not when you were tucked into his side, shielded from the winds. 
“You smell like a dingy bar” It felt so natural, your regular routine, the way it had always been, when your dad would say something funny, or outrageous, and the both of you would have a field day. It was well incorporated in your repertoire at that point, but the years apart had the memory sitting on a shelf in your brain, collecting dust. You remember when your dad made a terrible joke the day of your senior prom, and the two of you refused to let it go the entire evening. Javier had a vocabulary of his favourite phrases, and so did you, and you couldn’t help but pull them out every once in a while. 
“How am I going to survive you?!” You spoke in tandem, each letter dragged out with faux frustration, an uncanny similarity to your dad’s tone ringing in the air as your blended voices formed a familiar melody. It hung between you as he laughed heartily, and you wanted nothing more than to frame the moment, keep it tucked away where it would be yours, only yours forever. The starry night, a twinkling sky above you, the chirp of the crickets,  and perhaps your most treasured person, holding you against him. 
You wondered why he left, why he left you behind. Did he feel the same as you did in that moment? Was he happy to be there? To have caught you on your night out? After he’d called off his wedding all those years ago he’d become a rarer sight. You were too young to remember, and it wasn’t long after your parents got married. Growing up in your little town you’d heard he always had a reputation with women, but you never believed a word of the neighbourhood chatter. 
They were not the same person– the guy everyone talked about, and your Javier. While you’d never give him a break from the teasing, bringing up all the times you’d run into women in the streets, asking if you’d seen him, you could never really imagine him as the man everyone made him out to be. He was reckless, sure, and impulsive, and insolent, and a hardass, but he was also gentle, and thoughtful, and gallant.
At least he was to you. 
As if he could hear your thoughts, and they were so loud in your head you wouldn’t be surprised if he could, he broke the silence. “I wanted to come back cariño, but-” 
“But you couldn’t, I know '' There was no point going over what had happened and why, and while you incessantly wondered you knew it was a fruitless exercise. It was just how he was, he liked to up and leave, disappear, keep his distance, and you wondered if that had anything to do with you. But you didn't want to kill the moment, more for yourself than for him. 
“Glad you decided to come, cariño” It was like he was trying to convince you, of what exactly you weren't sure, but he sounded so earnest, so true.. and you felt deep down he was trying to make amends for his absence. Not just from you, but from the life he left behind. Were you an exception? Or a way to right his wrongs? mend all that had been pushed aside? You didn't know, but you’d worry about that later.
The winds had picked up, and the sky was gleaming, and for the first time in a long time you felt at peace. 
“I like it here, it's nice.” When you spoke he was almost surprised, but your words seemed to only widen his grin. He squeezed your shoulder gently. 
“Me too baby, me too.” 
— 
Singin' in the old bars
Swingin' with the old stars
Livin' for the fame
Kissin' in the blue dark
Playin' pool and wild darts
Video games
He holds me in his big arms
Drunk and I am seeing stars
This is all I think of
“Looks like they knew you were coming.” You swivelled the bar stool in your direction, hopping up on the seat. It was early in the evening, around seven, but the music was already going, and there were people on the dance floor, moving to the beat of retro spanish tunes. Javier took a seat beside you, still in his suit from work, shirt haphazardly tucked into his dress pants, tie loose around his neck. 
“Why?” the bartender placed your drinks on the counter, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the fact that he’d stuck to his whiskey on the rocks. “They got the oldies on”. You were giggling, and while he wanted to pretend like he was far too tired to care about your antics he couldn’t help but crack a smile. There was a charm to it– catching a break at the end of the work week, the tranquillity of the weekend enveloping you like a safety net. One of you that is. 
Friday night was busy at any joint, buzzing with nightlife, food and drink. Somewhere along the way you’d gotten up from your seat and headed to the large empty space in the middle of the bar, where tables and chairs had been cleared to create a somewhat makeshift dance floor. Javier was right, while he sat sipping his whiskey you found plenty of dance partners. 
It was all easy, getting passed from one person to the other as the group formed a large circle. It was like you had disappeared into the crowd, bodies moving left to right in the dim green glow, only occasionally giving you a glimpse of the man sitting at the counter– face rested in his palm. Ask him to dance. These urges of yours were momentary, little private lapses of judgement that would only remind you of what was just not possible. 
When he’d take you out back in the day he’d have some minor injury to blame for his lack of participation on the dance floor, and when he didn’t he was “a terrible dancer” or “had too many drinks”. After a while you stopped asking. You realised you’d never really seen him dance. 
You had grabbed the hand of a stranger, letting them twirl you around– Javier was looking in your direction. For how much fun he liked to have you had come to recognize hardly any of it involved other people. Weddings, birthdays, barbeques. He was there. However, you’d always felt he looked at it as an obligation. A hi to the bride and groom, a bouquet of flowers, some meaningless small talk and he would disappear out the door. When he stayed it was solely in the company of a few familiar suspects– your dad being one. While he was often the subject of conversation, he was a pretty reluctant conversationalist. 
It was hot, and muggy, and if someone asked you where you were in the room you surely couldn’t place yourself. Forcing yourself out of the chatter in your head you looked up, noticing finally that your partner hadn’t changed in the past 10 minutes. 
He was looking down at you quite sweetly, he was actually quite handsome, your age, but he didn’t have a white button up on, didn’t have that sideways smirk. He wasn’t Javier. And unfairly, for that reason alone you didn’t want him. But who were you to say no to pretty green eyes, soft, delicate looking light brown hair, a black button up that wasn’t very buttoned up. Neither of you had the confidence to speak up, so you let him sway you side to side, one hand firmly planted on his chest.
You wondered what he really thought of you, if after this little visit he’d be more compelled to come visit, at least spare you a call. Would he disappear once again? Call your dad once in a while and ask him to deliver some impersonal message like ‘say hi to her for me’? You wished you could care less, but you knew you couldn’t, and something inside you told you he knew too. 
A firm arm wrapped around your waist, spinning you in the opposite direction, faces turned to motion blur as you turned on your heel. “Looks like a saved you, cariño.” He was twirling you, holding your hand in his and pulling you into his chest. He hadn’t really saved you but at the same time he had. He could pick you up from a field of lilies and drop you in a medieval torture chamber and he’d still be your knight in shining armour.  
What the fuck are you doing here? You wanted to ask, but you held back. You wondered what had prompted him on the dance floor. Did he think some weirdo wouldn’t let go of you? Had seeing you dance with someone else accomplished a task years of your coaxing couldn’t? You turned back, but the stranger had already disappeared, and Javier was directing your gaze towards him. 
As you had always suspected he was a great dancer, and he sure as hell liked holding you close as you moved along the dance floor. The songs ran over the decades, and he’d often sing lines to you– smiling and pulling you towards him. He looked so handsome, lights reflecting off his face, his smile tired, but earnest, and wide. You almost couldn’t keep up. 
“Danced your energy away?” Picking up the pace once again you twirled around him, unwilling to give in. “No! Why? your back needa rest?” You watched him laugh– shake his head and grab you by the hips. “Sure you didn't cariño.. Can't keep up with an old man?” Voice raw from yelling over the music, you pulled his leg. “Think I heard your knee pop.” His raised brow only aroused suspicion. “Oh really?” Before you could even respond his arm had hooked under your thighs, and his hand was on your back and you were being lifted into the air. “Oh my god!” Your own arms flung around his neck, both your laughs floating between you as he spun around. 
It felt different and not because something in his head had dragged him out onto the dance floor. The way he was looking at you, the way he just couldn’t let go. It hurt your heart more than anything you’d ever experienced. The pain was conflicting– the love ache and the hurt. Did he know how much he meant to you? Did he even care? Something in your heart told you he did but you chalked it up to innocent hope. 
The music slowed down, and you heard emerging from the stereo a familiar tune. 
You’d hum it all the time, so much so it would drive your father nuts. In the kitchen, while doing chores, sometimes as you read by Javier’s side. On the weekend when you woke up early to help cook breakfast it’d be the first song on the playlist. You recall how he’d watch you dance around the kitchen, truth be told rather ungracefully in the mornings– spatula in one hand, kitchen towel in the other.They played it at some wedding once, and your friends had bounded to the dance floor with you just to ensure you didn’t miss a note. You were running so fast you all but collided with him, and he had to catch your falling form as you stumbled towards your best friend, shouting a quick “sorry” as you bounded in her direction.  
He remembered. 
Words were useless when you looked at him the way you did. An expression of surprise, confusion, realisation, all at once, a smile tugging your lips, your doe eyes gazing into his soft brown ones. And his arms were around you, and you were pressed against his warm chest, and you were gently swaying to the beat of the music. 
“Looks like they knew you were coming.” 
It felt like a blip in time, but it would’ve been hours. People came and left, all around you groups of twos and threes and tens, but you stayed, and he stayed. Smiling down at you, holding you tight. You were a little light headed from it all, feet fighting the urge to take a little break. You just couldn’t let go. 
Plopping down on the bar stool you let your cheek hit the cool marble of the counter. Your legs felt like wet noodles, trembling when you finally sat down. You weren't really sure where Javier went, but it felt like an eternity he let you lay there with your eyes closed. Every second was one hundred times longer when he wasn’t holding you. His arm was firm around your waist when he finally helped you out of your seat. You realised he’d been standing only about two metres away the entire time. 
“Let’s get you home, ‘s late.” He had picked your shoes up from where you’d abandoned them, his own blazer draped over his arm– the one you weren’t hanging on to. With closed eyes you let him lead you out into the night, all your weight firmly supported by his broad shoulders, your stumbling feet only stabilised when he tucked you into his side. 
Unintelligible to anyone but him, and muffled by your yawn and cheek pressed against his upper arm you slurred your words as you spoke. “Past your bedtime?” 
He chuckled to himself, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head, his voice a faint murmur– the last thing you really remember hearing.  “Yes cariño, past my bedtime…” 
It's you, it's you, it's all for you
Everything I do
I tell you all the time
Heaven is a place on earth with you
Tell me all the things you wanna do
I heard that you like the bad girls
Honey, is that true?
“You been drinkin’ my whiskey….” He was leaning on the table, waving the glass you left out in the air, holding it between two of his fingers. He wasn’t upset, rather looked quite amused. You rubbed your eyes, making out his smile from a distance.  “Couldn't sleep.” Peering into the room you were staying in you were sure he saw your blankets bunched up on the bed where you had been tossing and turning for hours. Your eyes caught the clock on the wall. 
1am. 
It had been a long day. Being assigned to a new supervisor proved to be a real curse. He was quite a piece of work. Patronising, condescending, everything in between. If that wasn’t enough he rejected your proposal, and asked you to submit a new one in two days. God knows you had a lot on your mind. 
The kitchen cabinet swished when he opened it, bringing you back to the present. “God, you really are like me huh?” He still had his jacket on, but judging by the look on his face he needed a drink first. The couch dipped as you threw yourself on it, and you turned over its back rest to watch him move around the kitchen. 
“I had like one shots worth, with like a whole glass of water, so not like you.” Curled up under his plush throw blanket you sank into the cushions, eyes following him as he sat down beside you. With a deep sigh he leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index. “Fuckin’ hell” 
“Long day?” He picked up the joint he’d just rolled from the side table, groping for the handle of the drawer to grab a lighter. “Can say that..” It was just another night for him. You were lucky you heard him pull up outside, and had got yourself to look somewhat presentable so you could see him at least once that day. Granted that involved nothing but putting on a bralette. 
Maybe it was the fact that it was late, or that you had such a shitty day, or that you just couldn’t help yourself anymore, but you leaned against his chest, snuggling into his side as he took a drag. “I would try and talk you out of this job, but I think I've exhausted all my arguments..” You twiddled your fingers, just wanting to melt into him and disappear. 
“I don’t think there’s anything else I could do.” You shivered, his fingers tracing shapes on your upper arm. “Couldn’t do whatever it is you’ve been doing…” redirecting your gaze from your lap you looked up at him. “Sometimes it feels like I can’t either” He was looking ahead, voice low and rumbly, and just what you needed to hear. 
“You’ve got time, got one’ve my lifetimes ahead’ve you” He pulled you closer, head resting against yours. “Don't say that” You poked his side lightly, hearing him chuckle beside your ear. “Oh yeah, now those jokes gettin’ to you?!” 
Stewing in a comfortable silence you let yourself ease into his embrace, willing your mind to shut up for the time being and enjoy his company. The way he was holding you– so much more delicately than he ever had before had your heart clenching. “Tell me your day was better than mine.”
His words cut through the chilled air, and your heart soared at the thought that it even mattered to him. “No, sucked.” to anyone else you would have responded with a simple ‘it was good’, some white lie to avoid further questions, but you couldn’t lie to him, he’d figure it out one way or another. “My supervisor’s an asshole..”
Nothing was more comforting than the kiss he placed to the side of your head.“‘m sorry honey��� He offered you his joint– seemingly having deserted his agenda of being a good influence in favour of apparently celebrating your mutual disappointment. You felt your cheeks heat. 
“I've never smoked before.” 
Gasping comically he whipped his head towards you. He tapped your nose with his index, pinching your cheek and giving you possibly the most suspicious look he could muster. At least he tried, because his smile peaked through the interrogative exterior. “You little liar.” The gesture had you jumping to defend yourself. Shifting to meet his drooping eyes you almost knocked him over as you plopped on the couch, letting him wrap his free arm around your waist to steady you. “No, promise!” You leaned your forehead against his, your eyes gazing into his in an attempt to convince him. Despite his disbelief you were indeed telling the truth. 
“Oh really? Been drinkin’ too, trouble.” his hand snaked up the nape of your neck, cupping your jaw. It was then you realised just how close you were to him. Your eyes flickered to his lips momentarily. When you realised he had beat you to the task you were convinced you were hallucinating, or had somehow gotten high off the second hand smoke. In pain, you were in utter pain, unveiled and unprotected– subjected to his piercing gaze. 
Painfully aware of the tension that had settled like a thick cloud over you, your voice came out small and strained, but also hopeful. “‘M not trouble….could be though” 
The tightness in his jaw was something you couldn’t ignore. “Yeah, I know” In a moment of bad judgement, or in hindsight good judgement you decided you knew what you needed to do. You were exhausted of having to wonder. You were exhausted of asking questions, exhausted of his absence. You slung your leg over his thighs, lifting yourself onto his lap Leaning against his firm chest you peered up at him through your lashes. 
“Baby, careful”  You knew this time those words were not for you, you knew he was fighting the urge to gather you in his arms. You could see that look in his dark eyes– hungry, and hot. You could feel him, hard against your cotton panties. He bent down to press his forehead against yours, your noses bumping. “Cariño, you don't know what you're doing.”  His actions were in direct contradiction to his words, his large hands cradling your soft cheek, pleading you to put him out of his misery. But you were selfish, like he had been all those years ago, and you needed him to put you out of yours. 
“You don’t want this, Cariño” He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip. He was doing that thing again, where he was talking more to himself than to you. But couldn’t let him decide what you wanted, because for years you’d let him convince himself you’d wanted to keep your distance to maintain his own conscience– to make him feel better about how he’d disappeared from your life. 
“I know what I want..”  You didn’t mean to, but you were pouting, and despite your best efforts to speak with conviction you couldn’t help but come off a little pleading, “show me, please.” surely he knew you weren’t just talking about the weed. 
His lips ghosted over yours, and you could just about burst into tears the way he was looking at you. He probably noticed the way your chin wobbled, the way your doe eyes blinked away from his. Because in a moment you heard him sigh heavily, painfully, and apologetically all at once. 
And he was kissing you. Soft and slow, and gentle, and benevolent and like everything you’d ever hoped for. He tasted how you’d always imagined– like whiskey and cigarettes and everything in between. Like home. His thumb stroked your cheek gently until you pulled away, glossy eyed and wobbly on his lap. 
“Want me to show you what?” And here you thought his eyes couldn’t get any darker. He mumbled into your lips, voice commanding and steady– everything you weren't. He grabbed the back of your neck and guided you back towards him. Threading your fingers through his hair you let yourself get lost in the shelter of his hold. You felt as though he could pretty much eat you alive, the way his lips were moving against yours– suddenly hot and soft and needy. 
Heart racing you chased his lips with your own, but he steadied you with his hands, amused at your zeal. “Gotten all worked up now have we?” You couldn’t help it, you tried, tried to sit steady in his lap, but you just couldn’t, not when you felt his cock, twitch against your clothed pussy. 
You rolled your hips against his, watched as his head fell back against the couch. The crease between his brows only persuaded you to continue. “Shit baby, tryna kill me?” barely audible, his rasp had you bracing yourself with your hands planted firmly on his chest. You dragged your hips again, leaning down and tugging the fabric of his shirt. He reached for the joint he’d abandoned on the side table, bringing it to your lips. 
He observed you greedily. “That's it, good girl.” His voice had never sounded more strained than it did in that moment, watching you take a drag, eyes glossing over. The praise had your heart fluttering, you’d do just about anything to hear it again. Smoking wasn’t helping either of your causes, because it only made you press your pussy harder against his clothed crotch. This time his hips rose slightly to meet you, and he cursed lowly under his breath. Already unable to maintain control. 
Taking another drag he leaned back, letting you rub yourself against him, eyes screwing shut every once in a while, just like your own. He’d bring the joint to your waiting mouth every now and then, revelling in the sight of you getting more and more desperate with each puff. 
“dirty little girl..” you whimpered at his words. “rubbin’ that drippy lil pussy all over my lap.” You looked down, only to find a dark spot on his grey jeans, for where you pressed yourself against him. Incapable of stopping your movements you continued, relishing how the friction eased the throbbing between your legs. “Yeah? few drags got you all achy cariño, got you squirmin’?” 
He was watching you, and you could make out his intense gaze through your fluttering lashes, his eyes scanning you up and down, then fixing on your face of strained pleasure. “Tell me how good it feels, Cariño” His palms smoothed up and down your thighs, harsh and slow, and exercising all the self control he could muster. It was difficult to answer, a response bubbling in your throat before you were incoherently blurting it out. 
"Feels so good..” whining, you grabbed the fabric of his shirt in your fists, bouncing on his lap lightly to feel just anything against you, you wanted more, lust and intoxication clouding your judgement. “Please, need it, need it so bad” Losing all sense of restraint one of his hands reached for your hips, squeezing and gripping firmly. 
He dragged your already rolling hips against him, sliding you against his clothed crotch to the point you couldn’t help but let your legs fall limp, your forehead press against his shoulder. “Need what?” You could feel the tick in his jaw where it was pressed up against your cheek. 
His hand slipped between your bodies, moving your soaked panties aside to feel your wetness. You shuddered when you felt him against you, grinding down on his hand. “Fuck, look at that. So fuckin’ wet for me babygirl.” 
“Need you inside me, please.” Nosing his neck you pressed a kiss there, mouth falling agape as he rubbed your clit, fingers teasing your entrance, just barely pushing into you.  “Like this?” If your laboured breaths were any indication you couldn’t take it much longer. 
You wiggled your hips, trying to bear down on his digits, but he pulled away only to squeeze the inside of your thigh. ““Gettin’ to you already? use your words baby” he was taunting you, your little ‘no’s making him smirk against your shoulder as he went back to sliding his fingers along the cut of your pussy. “What do ya’ want me to do to you? Tell me babygirl.” You knew the sweet talk was only meant to encourage you, and while it worked you couldn’t help the way your cheeks burned when you replied. 
“Want your cock inside me. Want you to fuck me.. please … need it” 
Now that he listened to, fingers pulling away and tapping at your lips. When you gazed down at them you could see how wet you really were– having drenched them in the little while he’d had his hand in your panties. Obeying you parted them, letting him slide them into your waiting mouth, sucking gently, the taste of yourself heady on your tongue. “Good girl.” Even though he looked quite composed on the outside you still noticed the way he swallowed thickly when your tongue ran along his digits. 
“Want me to fuck the cute lil pussy?” you shook your head vehemently, and he chuckled at your enthusiasm. “That's my pretty baby.” he kissed you like he wanted to devour you, frantic, and urged, voice so rough it came out almost like a growl. His hands roughly grabbed your hips, flipping you to lay back against his couch. In a moment your sleep top and bralette had been discarded, in a pile on the floor alongside your shorts and his own clothes. 
Slotting himself between your legs you looked down to where his fingers were tracing the inside of your thigh. You gazed up at him, upper body lit by the dim orange light of the side table, broad shoulders slumped as he admired the sight of you– on your back, in nothing but your panties, all for him. As he slowly pulled them down your legs, he sure seemed to relish the way the fabric of your cotton panties clung messily to your wet pussy.  
“Poor thing, just need someone to take care of you don’t you?” It was less of a question and more of a declaration, and undoubtedly it made you feel open and weak. How could you not feel that way? There you were laid out in front of him, every part of you exposed, his toned torso being the only part of him you could really see thanks to the half lit room. It felt like if he looked just a little closer he’d be able to see right through your naked body– and into your scrambled thoughts. 
His index teased your dripping hole, briefly dipping into you and coming back to rub soft circles on your clit. Gasping, your fingers flew to grip his wrist when you felt him slide his cock against your cunt, tip teasing your sensitive nub ever so slightly. “Relax babygirl, be good for me.” Bringing your hand to his lips he peppered your knuckles with kisses, willing you to ease into the cushions as he draped himself over your body. He grasped your face in his palm, kissing his reassurance against your forehead as you felt him line himself up with your leaking entrance. 
You mewled at the stretch of him, at how hot you felt against him as he eased himself into your soft pussy. “Shit- so fucking tight-” his stopped for a second, like he was willing himself not to split you open with one quick snap of his hips. “can barely fit my cock in this lil pussy.” Leaning in your lips searched for his. He let you melt into him, fingers brushing against your side as if to calm you down. 
It was so much– his weight on top of you, his hips slotted between your thighs, forehead pressed against yours. You could feel every pulse, every throb, every ridge of him inside you, nudging those spots you could never reach yourself– and he wasn’t even moving yet. 
When he did start moving you couldn’t help the whimper that slipped past your lips. Your fingers digging into the flesh of his biceps, pulling him closer. You needed him, pressed up against your rising chest, holding you. “I know cariño, I know.” His right hand squeezed your waist, “Feels so good doesn’t it? Yeah feelin’ all full?” 
His voice was so sweet, like honey, warm and sultry in your ear. You nodded a quiet ‘yes’. He cradled your face in his palm, nose nudging yours gently. Mumbling his own rhetorical “yeah?” he kissed the underside of your jaw. For the first time he felt as close as he physically was, big and thick inside you. 
You were drowning in his arms, enveloped by them, cocooned in a bubble of heat, and low breathy sighs, and his lips ghosting over yours as he thrust into you– hard, but slow, and deep.  “That’s it, just like that–” he picked up his pace ever so slightly. “Such a good girl.” His words were gruff, and stuttery and his breath tickled your ear whenever he spoke. 
Feeling the drag of his thick cock against your pulsing walls your eyes struggled to focus on him above you. He on the other hand seemed to have no trouble fixing his gaze on your trembling form. “Makin’ me feel so–” he brought his thumb to brush the swell of your cheek, “fucking good, baby”. Your head buzzed at his praise, burning face turning to rest in his palm. 
With your back lifting off the soft cushion you reached to pull him impossibly closer, wiggling your hips to meet his thrusts. “More, please, please.. Want it” you couldn’t recognise your voice, not when you were begging him, watching his eyes twinkle. “Yeah? Need me to fuck this pretty pussy harder?” you nodded– feeling embarrassed enough at his smirk of surprise to hide your face in his neck, but not enough to stop begging. Another soft “please” barely falling from your mouth.  
Rising slightly he grabbed your hips, holding your thigh against his side. Your tilted hips granted him a whole new angle, and before you knew it you were throwing your head back, letting it fall against the upholstery. “You want that, don't you baby? Need me to stuff you full of my cum?” You could only respond with your sounds of pleasure. 
He pushed you against the cushions, hovering above you to drive himself deeper, watching you turn into a moaning incoherent mess– your whimpers and whines bouncing off the walls and only exhilarating his pleasure. “That's right cariño, I gotcha’” one hand squeezed the flesh of your hip, then travelled up to brush against the exposed column of your throat– fingers tracing your skin before he was leaning down and placing sloppy kisses against you. 
“gonna fuck this pretty pussy till she’s dripping with my cum.”
He must have noticed that dumb, hazy look in your eyes when propped himself back up, still fucking you till your hips pressed into the sofa’s cushions. “Fuck, nothin in that head of yours huh?” You made out his smirk of pride as you jostled around, trying your best to keep your eyes on him as he moved above you. 
It was far easier said than done. Not when you could feel his cock against your throbbing walls, could hear his scruff groans whenever he felt you clench around him, not when he was looking down at you with his furrowed brows, and sweat gemming his hair– which’s curls had been ruffled out of place from when you’d ran your fingers through them. 
Especially not when he shifted ever so slightly, and you felt his tip brush that sensitive spot inside you you didn't even know you had. Javier cursed above you, feeling you squeeze his cock. “that the spot huh babygirl?” he watched the way your eyes fluttered shut, face scrunching in pleasure as he hit it over and over and over again. 
Your head lulled from side to side, your body in overdrive and completely overwhelmed at the sensations. That was until he was cupping your cheek in his palm, tilting your face in his direction. “Use your words for me.”. But you couldn’t, parted lips struggling to form anything coherent besides soft, little whines. 
His hips snapped in a deep, slow thrust. “Say it..” Your eyes were barely open, and you reached and tried to grab him closer, but he stayed above you, unwilling to budge as he slowed to a complete stop– waiting for you to voice your needs. “Yes-”
He mumbled against your lips, nipping, and kissing. “Good girl, my good girl.” To that you nodded, back arching as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.  Every part of you singing at his touch– how he kneaded and squeezed your hot flesh. 
The coil in your belly only tightened and tightened, and you suddenly felt too vulnerable, too exposed to meet his hooded eyes. Turning your face to the side you let the plush throw blanket hide your hot cheeks, burying your face in it. “Look at me, wanna see your pretty face.” It was an instruction. One he expected you to follow like all the others. 
You didn’t think he’d notice that hitch in your breath, the way you did the opposite and smashed your face against the soft fabric. It was all too much, and he was fucking into your soaking pussy, and his hands were roaming your body, and you could feel his skin brush yours, and you were dizzy, and overwhelmed and you could scream and–
And he was slowing down again, just enough to where he kept you on that edge, to where you could savour every bit of him inside you. – “Cariño, look at me..” God he sounded so tender, coaxing you out of your daze just enough to the point you shook your head ‘no’, whimpering and turning only further away from him. 
He kissed your cheek, cooing at your overwhelm. Not to mock you, rather he sounded quite endeared, prideful even. “Baby” Nudging his nose with yours you felt his thumb rub soothing circles against the apex of your cheekbone, urging you in his direction ever so slightly. Your eyes fluttered open, just barely, only to find him smiling down at you. 
“There’s my girl.” 
“Need you to look at me when ‘m fuckin’ you.” He held your face in place as his hips met yours, slow and languid. No part of you was left untouched, his kisses adorning every inch of your exposed skin, lips coming to press against yours every now and then. It was like he could see through your nakedness, and the thought terrified you to no end, made you feel small and defenceless, and had your sensitive cunt squeezing his cock.  
“You close honey?” When you nodded your nose bumped his, and he laughed before he was kissing you gently. He brushed the sweat from your brow, voice so mellow yet in control. “Cum for me baby-” You felt him deep inside you. So so so close. ”Wanna feel you cum all over my cock” 
It rolled over you, slow and intense and deep, in waves. He held you close, cooing at your trembling frame, holding you against him. “'M here cariño, I gotcha, just like that.” Groaning, he watched your eyes struggle to remain open, rolling back into your head as he fucked your throbbing cunt. “That's my pretty girl.” 
His own hips stuttered, thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared his release. Still experiencing the aftershocks of your orgasm you felt him fucking into your warm, pulsing pussy. You felt his cock twitch inside you before he was filling you up with his cum, a strained curse slipping past his lips. 
Ears ringing you registered him catching his breath above you, but it was all too hazy for you to make out. All you really knew is that he hadn’t let go of you, hadn’t abandoned you on the couch to smoke a cigarette or pour himself a drink, instead he was peppering your face with little kisses. “ ‘m so proud’a you cariño– did so well for me.” 
Pulling out he slid his hand under your back, flipping you over so you were snuggled into his chest. The cold air from the open window could barely touch your skin before Javier was throwing the blanket over you– keeping you warm, close. 
You were still in your daze, but even as you lay on top of him, drifting in and out of a deep slumber you couldn’t shake the worry that when you opened your eyes he would be gone. 
That he would have traded you in for the comfort of his bed, or worse would have disappeared into obscurity once again. The thought only stung more as you felt his cum leak out of you, mixing with your own to drip down your thighs obscenely. 
You never really knew if he regretted it, if he wanted you for sure, if he liked having the weight of your body against him. Flinging your arms around his neck you tugged him impossibly closer, burying your face in his neck. A silent plea to stay where he was. You didn’t care if you seemed needy, or clingy or pathetic. 
It was like he knew somehow, like your thoughts floated to him after you’d thought them. And as always there was no explaining to do, no questions to answer, nothing to say. His embrace was safe, and secure, and unwavering. “close those eyes for me cariño mìo” He planted a soft kiss to your nose, his arms tightening around you, palms rubbing soothing circles on your back. “‘m right here babygirl, not goin’ anywhere….”
You did. And he didn’t. 
It's better than I ever even knew
They say that the world was built for two
Only worth living if somebody is loving you
And, baby, now you do
Now you do
Now you do
Now you do
Now, now you do
Now you do
Now you do
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I would also like to add that we are engaging with this concept solely in the realm and interest of fiction. This type of situation is a huge red flag. While the reader is seemingly consenting and enthusiastic there is a huge power imbalance between her and Javier. He has also known her her whole life and has been a significant part of her childhood. Engaging sexually or romantically in a relationship like that is creepy gr*omer behaviour. I used their past as a narrative device because this isn’t real, but please be aware of your media consumption, and that dynamics between characters in fic are vastly different from what is healthy, and ethical in real life. 🫶🐝💗
I really hoped you lovelies enjoyed it!! Please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear it! Thank you to everyone who reblogs my work, you keep me writing. Dividers and banners by @ saradika 💗🐝✨
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greenwitchfromthewoods · 6 months ago
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⇒ MASTERLIST
Hi! Welcome to my space. Choose something for yourself based on what is right for you. Take a bite! And thank you for your time.
✤ Joel Miller [The Last Of Us]
✤ Javier Peña [Narcos]
✤ Frankie "Catfish" Morales [ Triple Frontier]
✤ Marcus Moreno [ We Can Be Heroes]
✤ General Marcus Acacius [Gladiator II]
✤ Javi Gutierrez [The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent]
🧾 Drabbles/Prompts
💔 a few ways to break your heart 💔 [masterlist]
❤️‍ broken hearts seek redemption ❤️‍ [ masterlist]
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forever-rogue · 7 months ago
Note
#19 from the grumpy sunshine tropes with Javi Pena, you write him so well and i feel like this would be perfect 🥹💕
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AN | Here we have a few little snippets with grumpy!Javi and sunshine!reader! I pictured agm!Javi and Dulzura, but you don’t have to ready it as them❤️
Pairing | Javier x Fem!Reader 
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 2.1k
Masterlist | Main, Javier
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Javier,” you groaned as you nudged his leg with yours shaking your head in exasperation, “don’t be such a grump all the time. You’re really bringing down the mood.”
“The mood?” he raised an eyebrow and looked around the living room as though to see who else was around, “what mood? It’s only us.”
“My mood,” you huffed indignantly, gently tossing a throw pillow at him. He’d never once considered owning something as ‘pretentious’ as a throw pillow before he’d met you, but here you were, “don’t bring my mood down or you can sleep on the couch. How about that?”
“Baby,” he’d caught the pillow and tucked it behind his head, “Dulzura. We’re just watching a bad movie-”
“A sweet romantic comedy,” you interjected, “it’s cute!”
“Fine - we’re watching a sweet romantic comedy that is objectively not great and unrealistic,” he looked you over to look at the expression on your face, only to find you struggling to hold back a smile, “but if it makes you happy, we’ll watch all the terrible - good - movies you love. Okay?”
You remained silent for a moment, and Javier grew worried for a few moments that you were somehow still upset. You’d always made fun of him for being a grump but he’d never thought much about it. You wouldn’t really hold that over him, right?
You tossed the blanket off your lap before scooting over to his side of the couch and sat down on his lap. His hands instinctively went to your hips as he held you steady and you put your hands on his shoulders. You put a hand on his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek before pressing a kiss to his lips. 
“My taste in cinema is top notch,” you whispered in his ear, “you’re just a grumpy old man and don’t appreciate these types of things as much as I do.”
“I appreciate you,” he took your jaw in his hand and gently turned your face to his so he could kiss you properly, “which is basically the same thing huh, my little sunshine?”
“Absolutely not,” you teased, wrapping your fingers gently around his wrist, “but I love you so it’s okay. We can agree to disagree on these types of things.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, studying your face with a look nothing short of pure adoration, “we can, Dulzura. I love you too.”
“Smart man, Javier,” you beamed at him, “the best man.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Look at this,” your eyes were wide as you looked around the small cafe in awe. It was nearing Valentine’s day and everything was decorated in pinks and reds, hearts and glitter everywhere. For you, it was like a dream come true - for Javier it was all too much and performative, “it’s precious. I love this place. Oh, we could come back here for brunch on Valentine’s day!”
“It’s…” he trailed off, following you towards the counter to place your order, “something.”
You offered the barista your order, turning to Javier so he could place his. He looked so out of place and unimpressed that it offered you a moment of pause. Maybe you shouldn’t have forced him to come to this place with you. You’d seen this place on your way home from work and thought it might be a fun little outing; you hadn’t thought about how much Javier might dislike it. 
“Sir?” the young barista behind the counter had a huge smile on their face and you just knew that they were a huge extrovert and would have taken any opportunity to have a conversion. Javier kept his face neutral as he stood next to you and quickly offered up his order. They wrote it down and you quickly handed your card over before Javier could even think about it, “you guys can go ahead and take a seat and we’ll bring it right over!”
“C’mon,” you reached for his hand and pulled him towards a table closer towards the back, “we’ll just stay out of the way here.”
He sat down across from you with a concerned expression on his face, “sorry for being a huge ass.”
“You’re not an ass, Javier,” you snorted in amusement as he sat back and crossed his arms over his broad chest, raising an eyebrow, “you’re just not…this vibe. For actual Valentine’s Day we can do something a little more…both of us.”
“Sometimes I wonder how or why you put up with me,” he nudged your leg with his as you rolled your eyes at him, “my little ray of sunshine.”
“First of all I don’t put up with you,” you reminded him pointedly , “I love you and the fact that you’re different from me just makes us work better. But yeah this place is…a lot. Even though it’s cute.”
“Dulzura-”
“But that doesn’t mean that you have to change for me or anyone and I’m not going to change for you either, right?” you were waving your hands around in a way that made Javier smile, a big, genuine smile. You were always so animated and loud and happy; it served to make him happy too. Before you could say anything else your coffees and pastries were dropped off with a bit of razzle dazzle, “I don’t that…of course there’s things we’ll have to work on and comprise eventually but ultimately-”
“Relax,” he reached across the table and put your hand on top of his, “I know what you mean, baby.” 
“Okay,” you took a sip from your coffee, take a moment to savor the sweetness, “I know I can be a lot sometimes, but if its ever…too much, you know you can tell me. I don’t want to-”
“I love you and your lotness,” he promised, “and I don’t ever want you to change.”
“Are you-”
“Positive,” he promised, taking a sip from his own black coffee. You always teased him about having terrible taste in coffee but he would just then make fun of you for cream with a hint of coffee, “stop worrying so much.”
“Fine!” you agreed with a laugh, “thank you for suffering through this with me. I love you.”
“I love you too,” he grabbed your cup and took a sip of it and his face almost immediately contorted into a frown, “but I’ll never understand why you like this stuff. That we can always disagree on.”
“Agree to disagree!”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Javier looked around the kitchen and cringed slightly. It looked like a dessert bomb had gone off and exploded all over the place. But at least the cake he’d been making, or attempting to make rather, was in the oven. If he started cleaning now, he theoretically should have everything cleaned up before you got home. You couldn’t kill him if the kitchen was clean, right? He hoped so anyway. 
He grabbed the tea towel and flung it over his shoulder before assessing the situation. While he was making his mental game plan, he was too absorbed in his thoughts to hear you open the door. 
“Javi?” you called out to him softly as you walked to the kitchen, curious as to what the delicious smell was. Unfortunately, he hadn’t heard you, but you found him, standing in the middle of the mess that was your kitchen. Your jaw dropped as you looked around; this was going to take a while to clean properly, “what the hell?”
Your voice was barely above a whisper, as you spoke more to yourself than anything else. This much he heard and he whipped around to look at you with a worried expression, “dulzura, I…you weren’t supposed to be home for another hour!”
“I finished work early,” you could see that he was trying to usher you out of the kitchen, holding out his arms to try and block you from seeing everything. But you’d already seen it all, “Javi-”
“Just…go on and relax and take a shower or something-”
“Javier,” you slipped under his arm so you could see everything up close and personal. You could feel your eye twitch as you took in the crazy scene. You stepped over to the oven and peeked inside - at least that much smelled good, “what is that?”
“Umm…it’s supposed to be a cake…isn’t that obvious?” you looked back at him and found him offering you a nervous, tentative little smile. Your heart melted at that, “I didn’t mean to make such a mess…it just sort of happened. I’m sorry…”
“You made a cake?” you looked at him with wide, soft eyes, “whatever for?”
“For you,” he stated as though it was so obvious. You supposed, really, that it was obvious, “I was just trying to surprise you.”
“That’s…you’re…” you waved your hands around as you tried to find the right words, “I love you. So much.”
Before he could say anything else, you threw your arms around him and pulled him in for a tight hug. It took a moment for his brain to catch up before he hugged you back, “I love you too, Dulzura.”
When you pulled back, you kissed sweetly, leaving him longing for more, “you’re a grump sometimes, you know? But you’re my favorite grump.”
“Hmm,” he hummed in content, “I’ll clean up the mess.”
“Don’t stress about it,” you insisted, “I’ll help you.”
“You don’t-”
“I’ll help you,” you repeated, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, “okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed, grinning when you grabbed the towel from over his shoulder, “and then cake.”
“And it better be good!”
“And if it’s not?”
“If it’s not…it’ll still be great because you went through all the trouble of making it,” you reassured him, “and you’re really hot so that just makes everything better.”
That caught him off guard and caused him to laugh loudly as you shrugged innocently, “thanks Dulzura. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You’d suffer terribly,” you grabbed another tea towel and tossed it at him, “now let’s get this place clean so we can eat cake!”
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psychedelic-ink · 1 year ago
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ㅤㅤㅤ❤︎ 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍
ㅤjavier peña x plus size f!reader
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genre: smut, strangers to lovers/fwb, minors dni
word count: 4.5k
summary: it's the 80s. when the dig you've been working at has to take a short break due to escobar and politics, you decide to wait it out at medellín. while hitchhiking, a charming stranger pulls up.
warnings: mild weed usage (reader), car sex, nipple play, dirty talk, dry humping, age gap, piv, creampie, unprotected sex, brat taming if you squint, some weight-related insecurities if you squint but mostly she's just vibing and living her life
a/n: i would really consider writing more of this so please let me know what you think! a special shoutout to @inklore because i feel like i wouldn't think about hitchhiker smut on the bus if it wasn't for her fic roadside delight which all of you should go and read rn because it's amazing, ily bby 💗
**dividers by the amazing @saradika xx
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Raindrops land sparsely over your skin, most of the wetness caught over your cheeks. Sliding down your neck, they sneak beneath the sweetheart neckline of your olive green dress. The skirt dances with the wind, teasing the inner curves of your thighs as it playfully flutters in your wake. Despite the rain, it’s still warm. However, that doesn’t stop the chill of the gray clouds from settling over your skin. With a deep sigh, you lift your thumb once more. 
You have no idea how long you’ve had your thumb sticking up; maybe it’s been only ten minutes or an hour, regardless, you’re frustrated and want the wait to end. 
Some cars had slowed down but upon seeing the men that were driving, you had quickly hidden your thumb away. You knew what they were thinking. Thanks to the rain, there was only little left to the imagination. The dress that already hugged your breasts and hips hugged you even tighter now, the fabric almost sheer as it exposed your tight nipples. You should’ve brought a jacket with you but honestly, how were you supposed to know it was going to rain today? 
“Fucking hell,” you mutter, pushing your wet hair away from your neck in frustration. Not a single car in sight after what you thought had been at least ten minutes of waiting. Clicking your tongue, you reach into your bag, retrieving a lighter and a joint thoughtfully rolled by one of your colleagues at the excavation site. It was greatly appreciated since you weren’t the best at rolling. 
Taking a drag, you sigh, the smoke mingling with the misty air. The excavation site had declared a short break due to some unforeseen issue related to the escalating Escobar problem in the region. It's hush-hush among the team, but you've caught snippets of worried conversations about increased security concerns and the need to lay low for a while. 
Your shoulders relax as the smoke swirls in your lungs, your body now feeling rejuvenated instead of cold under the rain. In the distance, you hear the soft hum of a car approaching and narrow your eyes as you look at the distance. Your eyes light up when you see a car approaching and this time, no matter who’s in it, you promise yourself you’ll just get in. 
The cigarette still between your lips, you lift your thumb with enthusiasm, taking a step further into the road, you giggle slightly thinking you might just as well jump in front of it to make it stop. You want to get out of the rain, want warm clothes and blankets. 
The car comes to a smooth halt. 
You lean towards the already open window, you quickly pluck the join away from your lips and smile broadly at the dark-haired stranger. 
“Hola,” you say, hoping your accent is decent enough. “¿podrías darme un aventón?”
The stranger gives you a curious look, his lips curl upward, eyes dropping to your cleavage before lifting them back up to meet your gaze. Your breath catches in your throat, chest heaving at the sight of him. He’s beautiful. Dark hair, dark eyes, plump lips. Blinking, you swallow and press your legs together, thankful he can’t see it. 
“Where you headed?” he asks. 
“Medellín,” A timid chuckle escapes your lips. “Did my accent give it away?” 
“A little,” he jerks his head to the side. “Hop in. You must be freezing like that.” 
Grateful, you open the car and slide yourself inside. Warmth immediately envelops you like a cozy blanket and you sigh happily, leaning into the comfort of the seat. “Thanks,” you say, offering your name along with it. “What’s your name?” 
“My name’s Javier. But you can call me Javi.” 
“I think I’ll stick to Javier, I like the way it hits my tongue.” 
He grins, “Do you, now?” 
It takes you everything to ignore the delicious roll of his tongue and how it would feel on your skin. You lift your hand suddenly, the joint visible between your fingers. 
“Is it okay if I smoke this in your car?” 
He looks confused for a brief moment. You notice him taking in deep breaths, sniffing the air, his eyes go slightly wide with realization but then the surprise in his eyes molds into amusement. 
“Go ahead,” he says. “You’re awfully bold to ask that without knowing who I am or what I do. What if I was a cop?” 
“Cops don’t look as good as you do.” 
Shit. 
“I look good?” 
You hear the mirth in his voice and quickly change the subject, “You want one?” 
“No,” he answers firmly. Confusion furrows your brow and his tone quickly softens. “Let’s just say I’m not a fan. And it’s illegal.” 
“Oh, sorry. I can put it out, you don’t have to be nice about it.” 
He thinks about it for a while but shakes his head. “You don’t have much of it left anyway,” The car starts moving and you look at the spot you’ve been waiting at for god knows how long one last time. Good riddance. “So, Medellín, what business do you have there?” 
“No business,” you answer promptly, taking another drag. You blow the smoke out the window, the wind whisking it away. “I’m studying archeology. I was doing research at Ciudad Perdida but we had to take a break for safety reasons. We might still go on so until I get a firm ‘go back home’ I was thinking to wait it out there.” 
“It’s not really safe there either, you know. You gotta be careful when you get there,” he gives you a side glance, eyes moving up and down your curves. Your heart rate escalates and when you press your legs together once more, it doesn’t go unnoticed. “You’re awfully squirmy there,” he says, voice low and all gravel. “You okay?” 
Your veins buzzing, you throw the remainder of the joint out the window. Your head is swimming pleasantly, the smoke loosening your tongue and making you eager to confess all the dirty things you want to do with him. But along with that, uncertainty creeps in. You don’t even know if he wants you that way. He seems older than you. He might’ve just been looking after you and the lust you heard in his deep voice might’ve just been in your imagination. 
“I’m not squirming,” you say quickly. He doesn’t look convinced by your answer, hands tightening around the steering wheel. “How long until we get there?” 
“A couple of hours,” his eyes catch your lingering gaze and he smiles. “There’s a gas station a little ahead so I suggest you go to the bathroom, sweetheart. If you have to go.” 
“Yeah, okay.” 
“You hungry?” 
Your hand wanders to your stomach, you can’t tell if he’s asking because of your appearance or if it’s a genuine question. He speaks up before you can decide. “I’m starving,” he says. “I also need to buy a pack so if you want anything just tell me. I’ll pay.” 
“I have money.” 
He laughs at that, and laughs even harder at your pout, “You’re a student in Colombia, hitchhiking. I doubt you have much,” he shrugs. “Besides, you’re a guest in this country, let me treat you.” 
“You’re being awfully nice.” 
“Am I? I don’t think so.” You see the gas station coming into view. “But mamá always did say I had a soft spot for pretty girls.” 
“You think I’m pretty?” you answer, hoping to have more a sultry tone but your words come out breathless. Excited. 
The car slows, his eyes are glued to your neck, he slowly moves them down. His dark gaze eating you up. You can almost feel it caressing your skin, heating you, and licking over the waterdrops that stubbornly remains on your skin. 
“Don’t say it like you don’t already know.” The car stops along with your breath. He pulls the keys out and leans close, lips almost touching your pulse. You feel his breath on your ear, warm, it coaxes goosebumps to rise across your skin. His eyes trail over the curve of your lips. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”
You shake your head, “No.” 
His lips touch your cheek. It happens so quickly that you feel you might’ve imagined it. The rough hairs above his lip tickle your skin and you instinctively chase the heat of him as he moves away. 
Before you know it he’s out of the car, the patch of skin where his lips touched still burning with delight. Stunned, you touch your cheek with the tips of your fingers. 
Maybe waiting in the rain for someone like him wasn’t so bad after all. 
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You should’ve known it would end up like this. 
Him, to park the car in a semi-remote spot. 
You, to cradle his lap, your dress pushed up all the way up exposing your soft thighs with his hands all over you. 
You should’ve known. 
The soft pitter patters of rain hit the top of the car, you’re too occupied by his mouth to realize the sun had slowly started to peek through the clouds, warming the damp concrete. Javier’s tongue is awfully skillful. He slips his tongue between your lips, licking himself deeper into your mouth, his hands pull at your neckline, exposing your bare breasts. He flattens his palms against them, your nipples tighten against the heat of his palm. 
He breaks away with a groan, “I knew you were braless,” he rasps, dipping to your neck. “I fucking knew it.” 
“And I knew you were staring,” you tease and expose more of your neck. He nips at the tender skin playfully, a shiver runs up your spine. “Here I thought you picked me up out of the goodness of your heart.” 
“Tell me to stop and I will.” 
“No—god, no. I don’t ever want you to stop.” 
And that’s all he needs to hear as he lifts your breasts towards his mouth. He dips his head, swirling his tongue over the pebbled flesh. Your body seizes. Your breath caught in your lungs, burning like wildfire. He twists the other with his finger and you moan loudly. The fabric of your underwear grows damp, sticking to your skin. He sucks harder. The thick outline of his cock rubs against your core, a feeling like electricity shooting up your spine, your head falls and he bites. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” you whimper, grinding down. Another wave of arousal washes over you, the effect of the weed you inhaled pounding between your thighs.  
Javier glares up at you, “Such a dirty mouth,” he grunts and holds your tongue between two fingers. Your brows furrow with pleasure, the hard denim of his pants growing damp thanks to you. “I don’t like bad girls. And you seem to be walking on the edge of it, sweetheart.” 
“I–I’m not bad,” you whimper, your words slurring thanks to his hold on your tongue. He lifts a brow, unconvinced. You don’t know why you’re hurt by him calling you bad, but you want to make it up to him—why you do, you have no idea. “I’ll. . . I’ll be good.” 
“Promise?” 
You only nod and he pinches your tongue, pain blossoms over the soft muscle. 
“Promise,” you slur. “I’ll be your good girl.” 
Satisfied for now, he releases your tongue and brings his hand back to your aching nipples. He sucks on one while pinching the other, both sensations making your mind whirl. 
“You like it when I play with your tits, hermosa?” he groans at the way you rolls your hips, pulling away his lips, he starts playing with both with his fingers. Twisting, pinching, and pulling. You’re trembling. A sopping, wet mess. “So sensitive. You think you can come like this?” 
You only moan, your lids fluttering like a butterfly’s wings as you look at him. He smiles, something dark crossing over his handsome features. “I think you can,” he says. “Because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” 
Slack-jawed, you answer, “Y–Yes.” 
Javier guides the sloppy roll of your hips. His mouth on your neck, he teases the flesh there while mercilessly playing with your tits however he sees fit. Your nipples are so hard from stimulation it almost hurts, Every twist of his fingers prompts a fresh wave of arousal seep into your underwear. Your body is out of control. Burning from the inside out. You’ve never felt it this intense before, never felt your orgasm nearing so viciously. 
His lips hover an inch away from yours, you part your mouth for a kiss but he smiles cruelly, you can smell the hints of tobacco when he speaks, “I can feel how soaked you are, baby. So wet and all for a stranger you just met,” he nips at your chin, gives your nipples a hard pinch that makes you see white. “I wonder if you’d do this with all the others who would’ve stopped for you?” 
“Others did slow down,” you say followed up by an elongated whine. Javier thrusts his hips, the rough denim of his pants catching against your clothed clit. He licks your bottom lip. “But they gave me a weird feeling so I hid away my hand. So. . . I wouldn’t do this with just anyone.” 
“Fuck, preciosa, you’re saying all the right things,” with one hand, he slides your dress up further, fingers teasing your slit. “It’s an honor to have this cunt all to myself.” 
Only then does he kiss you. It’s hungry, depraved. He sucks on your tongue, presses his lips hard into yours. The hand toying with your core moves to your hip, he squeezes your love handle, tugs you down as he thrusts his hips into the air. You cry out and he swallows the wanton sounds that rattle your throat. 
“That’s it, come for me,” he purrs, his hips pressing into yours. You grind down helplessly, aching to feel the hardness of him. Your ears begin to ring. Your body tingling and tensing while the taste of your nearing release stains your tongue. Your eyelids flutter closed, his lips once again drawing an aching nipple into his mouth. He sucks and sucks and sucks—and you finally break down, gushing and squeezing around nothing. You feel the wetness bleeding into the fabric, your legs shaking around where they frame his narrow hips, your head falls over and the soft locks of his hair soothe your burning cheeks. 
Javier is still moving against you. His cock painfully strained against his zipper, coated in your slick. Both his hands drop to your waist, squeezing as he finds your lips, giving you a tender kiss. 
He doesn’t say a word, his hand sneaking between your legs, he slips them under the elastic and pushes two between your folds. You swear you feel his cock throb when he realizes how wet you truly are. 
“Shit,” he breathes out. “Fuck, you really did come. Such a good girl,” he lifts your head by the chin and stares into your eyes, your pulse races again. “Good girl,” he repeats, watching as your lips tighten and eyes go wide. “You feel so good on top of me, making a mess out of these shitty pants. You come so pretty, querida.” 
“Javier,” you moan, your nipples tightening again. 
He pulls his fingers out out and tastes you in earnest, he moans around his fingers, “So sweet.” 
You moan again, the fire between your legs roaring to life. He cups your breasts and pushes them towards you, watching the way your eyes roll, “Let me fuck you in the backseat,” he says, as if you would ever say no to that. “I wanna see this ass bouncing on my cock.” 
No one ever mentions how awkward car sex can be, especially when you need to move around. 
You try not to show it to Javier but you have a sneaking suspicion your face is basically an open book. He slides to the back first, moving between the middle of the front seats. Moving around in a car already makes you awkward, it’s even worse when your tits are out in the open, moving side to side. 
But you guess it can’t be too bad since Javier is staring at them instead of you. 
“Is it bad that I want to play with them some more?” he chuckles.
“Definitely not,” you smile back, the light-hearted conversation gives you the courage to finally move between the seats. He quickly slides to the side, his lips on yours before you can even sit. He strokes his cock through his jeans, tongue dancing along yours, he sucks the air from your lungs. 
“Take off your dress,” he orders, watching, he unbuttons his jeans. You strip quickly, your body already aching to feel him deep inside you. He hums with approval when you’re bare to him, he doesn’t bother taking off his clothes, instead, he slightly pushes down his pants and frees his cock. 
A bead of precome glistens at the head, the head of his cock swollen, a hint of red adding color. He’s thick enough to have your pussy already throbbing. Your mouth waters. Javier wraps a hand around his length and pumps it under your lustful gaze, more precome gathers at the slit, slowly trickling down the side. Your breath hitches when you notice him smiling. 
“You want a taste?” 
You immediately lean down with your tongue out, sucking the tip, you clean him and push yourself further down. Your lips stretch around him deliciously. 
Javier doesn’t allow you to taste him further though, with his hand on your nape, he squeezes, “If you do that I’ll come in seconds.” You look up to him between lowered lashes. “And I’d rather come somewhere else, preciosa.” 
“How do you want me?” you ask, voice horse. 
“On all fours.” 
Again, a bit tricky because you have the constant fear your leg is going to slip and you’re going to fall, but the backseat is comfortable enough for that not to happen. His hands slide up your back and he holds you by the shoulders, bringing you close. His cock pushes between your thighs, parting your folds, your slick wets his cock, making the glide easier. 
“You know,” he says, his voice dropping dangerously. “Anyone could see us right now. Anyone who decides to drive by is gonna see us fucking.” 
You don’t expect yourself to clench at his words but you do, a soft whimper echoing from your lips. You can’t see it, but you know he’s smiling from ear to ear. “Does that turn you on, hermosa?” When you don’t answer, he leans closer, breath tickling the shell of your ear. “Don’t worry, it turns me on too.” 
Pushing the tip of his cock into you, your chest begins to move with labored breaths. He buries himself to the hilt with ease. A loud moan escapes his lips as his hips are snug over your ass. Your elbows give way, your head dropping to the leather sheets. It feels too good, too full, too intense. Your body breaks in sweat, your body fluttering around and clamping desperately around his cock. His hands follow the curve of your back, laying on top of each ass cheek. 
“Love this ass,” he mutters. “Are you alright? Can I move?” 
“Y–Yeah,” you choke out, desperate. Javier begins to move. Slowly pulling back his hips, he slams into you, ripping a moan from your chest. The leather seats creak as he thrusts into you, his pace gradually picking up. Each time he snaps his hips forward, you feel like your world is spinning. He grips onto your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he pounds into you.
“Come on, sweetheart, push those hips back. Prove to me how good you’re feeling on my cock.” 
All coherent thoughts leave your mind as you surrender yourself to the sensations. You meet his thrusts halfway, your body screaming at how deep he is. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull, your hard nipples grazing against the leather, it adds to your pleasure. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the car. He leans forward, his lips brushing against your neck as he groans your name.
You can feel the tension building up inside you, your body on fire. The coil in your stomach tightens, your legs starting to quiver, you gasp his name, barely able to breathe. “Come on my cock,” he commands, licking the start of your spine. Arousal pours between your legs, slick trickling down his cock. “Show me how good you are—” 
You cry out as your orgasm crashes over you, your walls clenching around him. Your breathing is caught in your throat. You roll your hips desperately, begging him to fuck you harder, god deeper—he does. He hammers into you, groaning over and over about how much of a good girl you are. His praise short circuits your brain and another orgasm washes over you, softer this time, but still powerful, enough to have you dripping over the seats. 
Javier continues to thrust into you, chasing his own release. With one final deep thrust, he spills himself inside you, his body shuddering. He grinds his hips, pushing himself deeper until he’s dripping from where he stretches you. You moan his name, your lips moving against the leather. 
Both of you collapse onto the seats, panting heavily as you try to catch your breath. Javier hugs you tight and pulls you up until you’re draped over his chest. You feel pleasantly lifeless, your lids heavy. He strokes your damp hair, fingers grazing over your cheek, he kisses your forehead. The gesture makes your heart swell.
“Mi preciosa, eso fue increíble, fuiste increíble.”
His words were said heavily as if he was barely keeping himself from falling asleep. You smile, burrowing yourself into his neck, you focus on the sweetness of the fleeting moment and not the come dripping out from between your legs. 
“You were the one that was incredible,” you sigh happily. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt that good in my life.” 
“Let’s just say it was a team effort then,” he grins but his smile quickly falters. “How the hell am I supposed to drive now, I need a nap.” 
“We could. . .” 
He sighs, “Sadly, I have work I need to get to.” 
“You never did tell me what you did for a living,” you muse. “Care to share?” 
His grin is back, lips curling mischievously, he looks you up and down. Your body shudders at the heat of his gaze. 
“We were busy doing other things,” he quickly gives you a peck on the cheek and reaches for your dress. “I’ll tell you later.” 
You pout a bit but shrug it off quickly as you take your dress. To each his own. If he wants to keep his job a secret, that’s fine. You just met him after all. And you’ll probably never see him again after you reach Medellín. 
The thought sours your mood. Turns your stomach. You don’t want to think about that. You don’t want to think about the end. You always did get attached too easily. 
With a sigh, you put on your dress and watch as Javier slides back to the front. You still have a couple more hours with him, you might as well make the best of it. 
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The ride had been a pleasant one. You’re pretty sure you talked the poor man’s ear off but he talked a bunch too, telling you about his father, his hobbies—which weren’t a lot—and his dislikes about the city. You had listened with rapt attention, eating up every last detail. But still, you had no idea what he did for a living and refused to ask, not wanting to pry. 
Almost at Medellín, you notice a checkpoint ahead. Your eyes narrow for a better look and groan, these guys meant business, especially when cartels were on the rise. No matter how many times you batted your eyes, you know your bag is going to get checked along with Javier’s belongings. 
“Oh no,” you mutter, prompting Javier’s eyes to shift from the highway to you. 
“What’s wrong?” 
“I still have a couple of joints in my bag. If they search it I’m toast. They won’t let me go back.” 
You’re not sure why but he smiles, did he know the checkpoint would be here? Your heart drops and stomach lurches. 
“You’ll be fine,” he says, then he winks for good measure. “Trust me, querida. You won’t get into trouble.” 
You have your doubts but nod and lean back anyway. The car slows down as you approach the checkpoint, and you can feel the tension building up inside you. Javier pulls the car to a stop, and a stern-looking man walks up to Javier. The officer’s gaze lingers on you before turning to Javier. 
“Documentos e identificación.” 
“Hola,” he greets along with a short nod. “Soy Javier Peña, de la DEA. Estamos de paso.”
Your eyes grow wide when Javier shows his badge to the officer, your jaw nearly drops, blood rushing to your ears. You desperately have the urge to shake your head and yank the badge out of the officer’s hands to inspect it yourself. To feel it under your fingers. 
The officer nods and motions to the others to let you through, “Adelante, buen viaje.”
The car starts to move again and finally—finally, you allow your jaw to drop. 
“You’re DEA?” you ask, upper body rising up from your seat, your tone shrill. Javier doesn’t say anything but he does nod, eyes never leaving the road. “Oh my god,” you say. “Oh my god—why. . why didn’t you tell me? I—I smoked weed in your car! You could’ve arrested me at any given point—I. . . I—” I fucked a DEA agent. 
You drop back down, defeated. 
“You don’t need to worry about me arresting you,” he answers, smiling. “I would’ve if you were a threat but. . . I think we established that you aren’t.” 
“A bunch of criminals fuck with agents you know,” you snap, weirdly offended. “Just because we did it doesn’t mean I’m not dangerous.” 
“Do you want me to arrest you, hermosa?” 
Cuffs do sound tempting but you aren’t playing that game right now, “No. . .” 
“Good, we’re on the same page then,” he drums his thumbs against the steering wheel. “My intention wasn’t to trick you or anything. You already seemed miserable under the rain, waiting for that long. I didn’t want to stress you further. And you can’t really blame me for thinking like that when the second sentence you said was ‘do you want a joint’ you would’ve freaked out. Am I wrong?” 
“No,” you say, clearer this time. “I still feel embarrassed though.” 
“You’ll live.” Finally entering the city, he turns to you, meeting your gaze. It’s a bit ill-advised since he’s driving but you appreciate having his full attention. “Where should I drop you off?” 
Oh. 
“I. . actually don’t know. Do you know any good places to stay? A room I can book on short notice?” 
“You don’t have a place to stay?” 
“I’m a girl who was hitchhiking through a country I don’t know. Do I look like someone with a plan?” 
“Fair enough,” he says, eyes turning back to the road. “Well, this is going to sound weird but you can stay with me if you want to.” Before you can answer, he adds. “I have a spare room.”
Saying yes is easier than you thought. 
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𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 - Javier Peña
pedro pascal has me in a chokehold and i'm not gonna apologize for it. take this smut. also, this is basically just a self insert cause i couldn't help myself
Summary: All alone at a bar after being stood up by a blind date, you catch Javier's lustful eye.
Warnings: self insert basically (I'm half Mexican so...yeah, I made reader Mexican too. sue me), alcohol and drug consumption, dancing and leaving no room for Jesus (grinding), SMUT (MINORS DNI), one night stand, fingering, oral (m!receiving), spanking, kinda mean dom!Javi
word count | 4.3k🤙🏻
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You didn’t think your night could get any worse.
First, you get all dolled up just to be stood up by your date, then the friend you came to the club with abandoned you to hook up with some random guy. You hoped you’d at least meet someone here to soothe your bruised ego, but there weren’t any takers or anyone that met your standards. Yeah, tonight seemed like it would be a bust.
Unbeknownst to you, across the bar, Javier Peña couldn’t keep his eyes off you. After a rough day on the job, his partner encouraged him to come to this club to blow off some steam. He was content just hanging out with Murphy, until he saw you. The expression on your face is what caught his eye first, the way you had a permanent frown and look of disappointment. He instantly knew you must’ve gotten stood up, or broken up with. Why would anyone stand up someone as gorgeous as you? He’d never know. He really thought you were. Gorgeous. The way your eyes sparkled in the club lights, the way your lips wrapped around the rim of your margarita glass, leaving a subtle red stain with your lipgloss. Of course, he couldn’t help but notice your attire; a dress just above knee length lined with lace, hugging the form of your torso but flowing around your hips. He followed the curve of your ass down your legs until he got to your freshly pedicured feet that sported wedges that matched the dress. He hated knowing that you must’ve gotten dressed up for nothing.
You were such a stunner, Javier didn’t even register Steve was even talking to him. “Sorry, what?” He tried speaking over the music blaring over the speakers.
Steve only laughed, shaking his head as he took a swig of his beer. “You’ve been eyeing that bird ever since we got here. Just go talk to her, man.”
Javier shook his head, turning back around to face his partner. “Nah, I came here with you. It’s fine.”
Steve gave him an unimpressed look, totally not believing him. “You’re so full of shit. Right now, I know the last thing you wanna be doing is spending time with little ol’ me when you could be chatting up a beautiful woman. I’m alright, thinking about heading home to my woman actually.” He finished his drink and started to get up before Javier could even respond. “Enjoy yourself, you’ve earned it after the day we’ve had. See ya on Monday.” 
“But, I-” Javi’s voice trailed out the farther Steve walked away, leaving him alone and slightly buzzed. He looked back over at you, somehow looking even more pitiful and on the verge of completely giving up on fun. He sighed heavily before chugging the rest of his beer. “Fuck it.”
You didn’t hear the approaching footsteps over the music, getting startled out of your thoughts when you heard a voice from beside you. “Te ves como si te estuvieras divirtiendo.” The man beside you said, his voice straining a little so you could be able to hear him. At first glance, you thought about leaving right away, but once you got another look, this man was actually pretty attractive. He was tall, gruff looking, but his smile was sweet.
You smiled apologetically. “Lo siento, no hablo español.” You cursed yourself for never learning Spanish.
“Oh, no problem. I’m originally from the States, so. You’re not Colombian?”
“Mexican, actually.”
“Ah, muy bien.”
You giggled, taking a sip of your margarita to calm your nerves in front of this very handsome man. “Spent my whole life around Hispanics and never seemed to pick it up. My father is very disappointed in me.” His laugh made a blush bloom across your cheeks, but thankfully the lights in the club were dim enough to make sure he couldn’t notice.
“What are you doing in Colombia?”
“Holiday, invited by a friend.”
“And what brings you to this club tonight? Got a hot date?” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.
You huffed. “Well, I was supposed to meet someone here, but he was a no show. I came here with my friend too, but said friend has ditched me tonight.”
His eyebrows furrowed into a frown. “They left you after you got stood up?”
“Oh, no, she wouldn’t do that. I told her she could, but that was before I was ghosted. She’s probably back at our hotel getting dicked down right now. So, I figured I’d stay here a while to give her some privacy or snag someone here for myself.”
“Any takers?” Javier already knew the answer to that, but he wanted to hear it from your mouth.
You sighed with a sad smile. “Nope. I’m completely alone here.”
He leaned in closer to you, resting his forearms on the bar stand. “Well, not anymore. Can I buy you a drink?”
You smirked. “I don’t even know your name.”
He reached out his hand. “Javier Peña.” You closed the gap, taking his course, warm hand in yours. He grinned as you told him your name, as if you just told him the secret of life. “Bonita. Two whiskeys, por favor.” He spoke to the bartender. Oh, this guy was good.
“You’re a bold one, aren’t you?” You giggled.
He shrugged. “Have to be in my line of work. Plus, if I wasn’t, I’d never get laid.” You almost spat out your drink. Well, bold was an understatement.
“And what line of work would that be?”
Javier seemed to hesitate at that, scrunching his face in a frown for a brief second. “DEA Agent.” You nodded in acknowledgement, your expression plain so he couldn’t guess what your stance was. You weren’t running away immediately, so that was a good sign.
Throughout the next hour or so, you both talked each other’s heads off. Each of you telling each other about your work, hobbies, likes and dislikes, even some political stances (the alcohol may have loosen your tongues).
Then, your eyes lit up as a popular Spanish song sounded through the speakers. “Oh my god, I love this song!” You beamed, your body instantly swaying to the beat in your chair.
Javier smiled, stepping away from the bar and extending his hand. “Dance with me?”
“You’re just gonna assume I know how to dance?”
“You’re Mexican, aren’t you?”
“Half.” You chuckled nervously.
He shrugged, grabbing your hand and pulling you off the stool you were sitting on. “You’ll be able to keep up. Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle. Promise.” He purred, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. Oh, he was trouble.
You let out a surprised squeal as Javier spinned you around with his hand before getting into the dance. The song was more fast paced, so you both settled on a messy salsa. Javier led you well, laughing off whenever you accidentally stomped on his foot. You had taken a salsa class before, so you weren’t too terrible. But you could tell Javier could’ve looked much better with a more experienced partner. But he didn’t choose someone else, he chose you. “See? You’re not that bad!” He shouted over the music, causing you to grin.
“Well, you’re an excellent dance partner.”
As the energy died down and a slower song came on, you and Javier stepped closer together, wrapping each other’s arm around the other as you started to sway to the music. Your heart thumped in your chest as he looked down on you with those dark, mysterious eyes. He didn’t even try to hide every glance down to your lips or your chest that was pressed up against his. Taking a look around, all the other couples on the dance floor were in similar positions, most making out which caused a blush to form on your cheeks. Javi seemed to notice as he smirked, stepping back to twirl you around, pulling your back against his chest, still keeping up with the beat.
“And what about this song? Is this another favorite?” He spoke against your ear, eliciting a shiver down your spine as you felt his breath fan across your skin.
You shook your head. “I’ve never heard it before.”
“Oh, it’s a great song. It’s about getting to know a woman’s body for the first time.” Your eyes widened. “What she likes, how she likes to be touched, learning if she likes it slow…or rough.” You silently gasped as Javi gripped your hips tightly, pulling your ass against his pelvis, bringing one hand to press against your lower stomach. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the music or maybe it was just you, but you subtly smirked as you grinded back against him, a soft groan escaping from his lips as he tightened his hold against you.
“That does sound like a great song. I bet you know all about that, hm?”
“I am a fast learner.” He growled, running his tongue up the side of your neck, instinctively allowing your head to loll back to rest against his shoulder. You bit your bottom lip to keep in a moan that threatened to escape as his teeth dug in gently. You smiled as you felt Javier’s bulge against your ass, the music allowing you to grind against him without raising any brows. 
“Should I guess what you like?”
He hummed. “If you come back to my apartment with me, you won’t have to.”
You turned back to face him, a bright smile on your face. “Will you be gentle?”
He smirked darkly. “I don’t think that’s what you want, querida.”
The both of you didn’t waste any more time in that dance club. You felt your arousal pool in your underwear as Javier all but dragged you outside to slam you against his car, his lips already brushing against every piece of exposed skin he could find before kissing you roughly, his mustache tickling. You moaned at the intensity of it, not having been laid in a long, long time. But you couldn't get too ahead of yourself, you weren’t at his apartment and you were still in public, but by how handsy Javier was being, you figured it didn’t bother him. “Are we going to your place or should I just take off my panties right now?” You giggled as you gently pushed him away, keeping him at arm's length.
“Sorry. I don’t normally take my time…” He whispered breathlessly, placing a feather light kiss on your cheek.
You smirked. “I have some weed if that’ll make you relax.”
Javier narrowed his eyes and pinched your side playfully, making you wince. “You know, I could arrest you for that.”
“Yeah. But from the hard on that pressing against me right now, you really want to get in my pants. Can’t fuck me when I’m in a jail cell.”
“I can be creative.” You let out a whimper as he smacked your ass hard, groping the fatty flesh through your dress before reaching behind you to open the passenger side door of his truck. “Get in.”
You chuckled at his demanding tone, clearly worked up, but you didn’t have the heart to tease him anymore so you obeyed. You almost flinched as he slammed the door shut, speed walking to the other side of the car and starting the engine as soon as he got in. On the road, Javier extended his hand towards you, palm facing it. You raised a brow in confusion. “The drugs.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Seriously? It was a joke. I don’t have any weed.”
Javier looked you up and down with a glance before a smirk came to his face. “So you wouldn't mind if I search you?”
“Where would I ever hide it? My bra? My cunt?”
“Scared I’ll find some?”
You bit your lip to keep yourself from smiling, shifting in your seat to slightly face him, leaning up against the door as you removed your underwear but keeping your dress covering your modesty. “I’ve got nothing to hide, sir.”
Javier’s eyes darkened as he glanced between you and the road. There wasn’t much traffic, so he figured he could get away with it. He reached his hand over and patted your torso down, reaching further and further until he got to your breasts, kneading the flesh softly until his fingers dipped in past your dress and bra. You sighed out as he roamed your tits, pinching your nipples until they hardened. “All clear?” You teased, squeezing your thighs together to get some friction.
“Not yet. I have one more place to check.” You tried not to shiver as his hand trailed down your body, lifting the hem of your dress out of the way and pushing your legs apart to lay his eyes on your glistening pussy. You could hear a soft growl from him as he slid one of his fingers through your slit, your wetness gathering at your entrance quickly. “Been a while, has it?” You gasped as his middle finger started to press against your clit, heat rushing to your face and neck, contrasting against the cold window your head rested against.
“A bit, yeah.” You exhaled shakily.
Stopping at a red light, Javier’s eyes were fixed on your face as he inserted two of his fingers inside you, watching the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head briefly as your lips parted in a moan. He groaned, curling his fingers rhythmically and trying to stretch you out preemptively. “So fuckin’ tight, babygirl. Squeezing my fingers so hard.” Well, it was hard not to when his fingers were so thick and long. He definitely was an expert in this field, finding that place inside you that always had you panting and whining, which is exactly what you were doing as he paired the thrusts of his fingers with his thumb circling your clit.
“Fuck, that feels so good Javier.” You moaned, holding on to the dash for dear life as you tried not to squirm too much.
“Call me Javi.” A sudden honk of a horn jerked you and Javier out of the moment, the spotlight turned red minutes ago, causing the car behind to lose their patience. You giggled as he cursed in Spanish as he sped off, faster than before, anxious to feel all of you. With his fingers still inside you, Javi hastily parked his vehicle on the street outside his apartment, ripping off his seatbelt to lean over to kiss you sloppily. “You were close before, weren’t you?”
You nodded with a whine, the windows starting to fog with your panting breaths. You held onto his shoulder as he forced you to that peak once more, just the right move to push you over the edge. “Javi, fuck-!” You whimpered, the wet squelching of his fingers moving in and out of you echoing in the truck.
“So wet.” He chuckled darkly. “Gonna come on my fingers, querida?”
“Yes. Yes, Javi!” You moaned loudly, heat taking over your whole body as you rode out that wave of ecstasy on his fingers. Javier groaned as he watched your face contort in pleasure, it almost making him come in his jeans untouched. He grinned as he watched your slick coat his fingers and pool into his palm, pulling his hand away to see your cunt make stringy cobwebs of cum. “All clear on those drugs, agent Peña?” You joked when you noticed his oblivious fixation.
He chuckled softly. “I don’t know. I think you’ll need to join me in my apartment for a further evaluation.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Your hands shook as Javier led you up the stairs to his apartment with heavy and hot gazes towards you, almost to make sure you were following him. Like you’d ever want to leave with the promise of getting laid. He seemed to be antsy like you, fumbling with his keys and having to take a deep breath before unlocking his door. But once you stepped over the threshold, all possible nerves promptly left his body as he pinned you to his wall and kissed you passionately. You whined as his hands wandered until they gripped onto your ass, grinding his clothed erection against you.
“God, I can’t wait to fuck you, hermosa.” He growled before latching onto the crook of your neck with his teeth.
“Then don’t.” You whispered shakily, palming his bulge which elicited a low, deep groan from him, the noise causing a pang of arousal to resonate through your entire body. You wanted to hear more, but Javi grabbed your wrist.
“So eager, babygirl. Want me to make you come again that badly?” He chuckled mockingly when you nodded. He led you to his bedroom, sitting you down on the edge of his bed with his lips latched onto yours. “Wanna feel those pretty lips around my cock.” He hummed as he unbuttoned his jeans. Your eyes widened and mouth watered as Javier took his cock out, thick and long. Obviously his jeans had hidden its actual size, you didn’t know if you’d be able to fit it inside. “Think you’ll be able to take it?”
“I’ve just never had someone as big as you, Javi.” That seemed to make him smirk with pride.
“Don’t you worry. I’ll go easy on you. First, at least.” Javier gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head up to look at him, suddenly feeling intimidated by his domineering stature; but it only turned you on even more. “You wanna suck my cock, princess?” You smiled in reply, licking your lips and leaning forwards to lick up the small bead of precum gathered on his slit, the action making him hiss softly. Making sure to keep eye contact with him, you licked the underside of his cock from base to tip, wrapping your lips around the head and suckling on it gently. “Oh, you’re a tease, huh?” You yelped as Javi grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled harshly, taking advantage of your surprise and shoving his cock in your mouth. You instantly tried to relax, sucking on him until he let out a lovely moan. “That’s it. That’s it…good girl.”
His praises and moans went straight to your core, making you even needier than before. He sounded so pretty. Even if your jaw started to ache, you wanted to keep hearing his breathless noises of pleasure. You made a pretty picture, Javier thought. Your lips and tongue around his cock, looking up at him with tears spilling out the sides of your eyes whenever he hit the back of your throat, your moans of exertion causing a delightful vibration. He wouldn’t last much longer like this. He needed to fuck you. Now.
You gasped as Javier pulled you off his dick, kissing you roughly before removing his shirt, your lips upturning in a smile as you admired his body. “Clothes off and lay back on the bed for me, sweetheart.” He ordered, and you had no problem obeying, might’ve even been a bit too eager, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Your face flushed with heat as his gaze fixed on your breasts, licking his lips and smirking. “Goddamn, you’re gorgeous, baby.” You giggled as he pounced on you, sloppily kissing you while positioning himself in between your legs.
You bit your lip as Javier rubbed his dick in between your slick folds, gasping as the head nudged your clit. “Want you inside me so bad, Javi.” You whispered, one hand cupping the side of his face and the other bracing yourself on his shoulder as he started to slowly push in. Your head fell back to the pillow beneath you with your mouth open in a moan, Javi fully sheathing himself inside your velvety walls.
“Fuck, babygirl.” Javier groaned, his brows furrowed, trying to restrain himself from plowing into you right away. He had a vice grip on your hip, while his other hand was groping your tit. “You feel so good.”
“Fuck me harder, Javi, please.” You whined, canting your hips upwards to try and get more friction, but he roughly pinned you down with his hands.
“Ain’t gonna last long if I do that.”
“I don’t care. Please.” You begged, looking up at him with your best puppy dog eyes. Javier growled as he pulled out of you, flipping you over on your front, head down and ass up, pushing himself back in your pussy harshly, setting a cruel pace. “Fuck!” You groaned, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull in a pleasured haze. He fucked you hard and slow, each thrust making you jerk and cry out every time he hit the ends of you, a loud slapping skin against skin noise echoing through his entire apartment. You’d be surprised if his neighbors didn’t come banging on his door telling you to keep it down.
“You like this better, slut?” He mocked before letting out moans of his own, the new position one of his favorites, that much you could tell.
“Yes. God, yes, Javi!” You started to prop yourself up on your elbows, but Javi pushed you back down, keeping your face pressed against the pillow.
“Keep your fuckin’ head down.” He demanded, grunting loudly with every thrust. “Anything else you wanna complain about, sweetheart?”
“Can you…can you spank me, please?” You couldn’t see him from your position, but he grinned, followed by a couple hard slaps to both your ass cheeks, making you moan in appreciation. You could tell he enjoyed spanking you, since he did it often, your skin throbbing and raw but it felt so good. His grip on your hip he used as leverage started to turn painful as opposed to the pressure it previously felt, just knowing you’d have plenty of marks afterwards, and you couldn’t wait to see the masterpiece of bruises he left on your skin in the morning.
“Fuck, babygirl, you’re making it real difficult to keep it together. I don’t think I’ll be able to last much longer.” You lifted yourself with your arms, trying to turn yourself on your back. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I wanna watch as you come.” You smiled sweetly. Now how could Javi deny you when you looked like that? He allowed you to turn over, then he sat up on his haunches and wrapped your legs around his waist. He looked so fucking angelic from this angle, looking down at you with a pleasure ridden face, the sweat coating his body making him shine, his hair disheveled and a dark look his in eyes. The sight paired with his ruthless thrusts, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you, made your second climax of the night get closer and closer, you could almost taste it. 
Javier watched as goosebumps rose all over your body, your nipples hardening and your walls clenching around him tightly, signaling you were close. If it weren’t for how close he was as well, he’d surely have an arrogant smirk on his face from how drunk you were getting off his cock. “You gonna come for me again, querida?”
“Yes, Javi!” You cried, your body starting to shake uncontrollably as the first shock waves of your orgasm washed over you. “Oh my god, fuck, I’m coming!”
Javier let out a strained moan as your walls pulsed around him, soaking his cock and your face contorting in pure euphoria. He couldn’t resist grabbing ahold of your hand, giving you an anchor to ground yourself as you came down from your high, additionally giving him something to hold on to as he started to reach his own climax. “Where do you want me to come?”
“Inside…” You whispered breathlessly. “Come inside me, Javi. I want it. I need it.”
Javier grunted loudly as his warm ropes of cum painted your walls, his muscles tensing and soft whimpers escaping his mouth as he stilled inside you, panting as if he’d just run a marathon. He surprised you by kissing you softly, then your chin, cheek, and finally your forehead. Much more tender than he previously was. You almost whined at the loss of contact as he laid beside you, immediately lighting a cigarette, offering you one, but you politely declined, claiming you had your own. Instead, you slightly sat up in the bed and pulled out a joint from your bag, smirking to yourself as you knew he’d throw a fit.
You took glances over at Javier as you lit up your joint, resisting the urge to laugh as his eyes widened at the smell, immediately snapping his head towards you with furrowed brows. “Are you really smoking grass in front of me right now?” He scolded. “Seriously? You lied to me.”
You smiled. “What’re gonna do? Handcuff me?”
His eyes darkened, setting down his cigarette in an ashtray and leaned over to hover above you.“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You only replied by taking a puff of your joint and blowing the smoke in his face. You whimpered as he kissed you hard, biting your lip until he broke skin. “You know marijuana is a gateway drug?”
“Oh, shut up!” You chuckled, putting out your joint so you could focus on kissing him. “You really gonna arrest me, Javi?”
He rolled his eyes. “No, just…just don’t do it around me, alright?”
You raised a brow playfully. “Oh, so this wasn’t just a one time thing?”
He didn’t meet your gaze. “I mean, not if you want it to be. I was going to ask if you wanted to, ya know, do this again sometime?” He spoke softly, looking back up at you with a hopeful expression.
You giggled giddily, feeling like a teenager who just got asked out by your crush. The grin that stretched across Javi’s face at your reaction made your heart thump in your chest even faster. “Of course, Javi. I’d love that.”
“Good.” He smiled, kissing you one more time.
You smirked. “Hey, maybe you could use your handcuffs on me next time.”
“Whatever your heart desires, querida.”
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fuck sake
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pimosworld · 9 months ago
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Read it again- part I
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I wanted to start a list of recs that I find myself going back to when I’m happy or sad or just in need of something to distract me from the crazy world we live in. This will be multiple parts so consider this the first installment. These will be old/new/current wips and fics.
Please head the warnings in each fic or series.
Triple Frontier
The devils backbone- @ezrasbirdie
Feed your ego- @whatthefishh
War makes thieves and peace hangs them- @brandyllyn
Messy Pile of Affection Series- @flightlessangelwings
The homecoming series- @astroboots
Awakening Series- @romanarose
Switch to channel 2- @autumnleaves1991-blog
My best friends girl- @tropes-and-tales
Moon Knight
Prized possession- @melodygatesauthor
Third ones the charm-(part I, part II) @missdictatorme
Egg Fried Rice- @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction
The Jake problem- (part I, part II) @bensolosbluesaber
For science- @projectionistwrites
Joel Miller
Pink- @netherfeildren
The checklist- @thetriumphantpanda
Trick or Treat- @morallyinept
Meet me in the back- @atticrissfinch
Honey do- @kiwisbell
Take care of you- @theidiotwhowritesthings
Javier Peña
It’s never too late- @javierpena-inatacvest
Paranoid heart- @goodwithcheese
Late night texts- @undercoverpena
D.I.Y.- @swiftispunk
Please comment and reblog the authors works that they pour their time, heart and soul into.
Feel free to leave a comment with your favorite re-read or message me directly to include in future installments.
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chaotic-iguana · 1 year ago
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how about a five where Javi rejects the reader, so the reader like gets really sad, but one day Javi hears she is going on a date (is not true, Murphy made it up) and he rushed to her apartment and confesses and reader is like ?? What are you talking about, super angsty but super fluffy? Pleaseeee
Out of time | javier peña x f! reader 
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summary: javi rejects reader. repents like the idiot he is. (i love him) he is a FOOL in love. fight me. 
wordcount: 2.1k
warnings: rejection, angst and fluff, hurt and comfort basically, happy ending. 
A/N: i got you, anon. this promt is the perfect apology for the last one. repentance fr. love u ALL. let me know what you think. also nothing against “hippies” just giving murphy pov. i do however as an indian have a  bone to pick with fake white yoga gurus. it’s gotta be appropriation. 
masterlist
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Javi had never been heartless before. Never been cruel before. Now, as you pointedly hunched over your desk in an effort to ignore the chortles and cheap jokes that kept sounding from the men crowded around his desk as they all stood around a nameless note someone -you- had slipped onto his desk. 
He laughed boisterously with them, before crumpling the paper in his fist and dropping it into the bin next to his chair. You refused to so much as raise your head and look his way, feeling the crushing wave of heartbreak sweeping through you. It wasn’t until you felt a tear on your cheek that you realised that you had started crying, and so you muttered an excuse about getting some coffee before rushing to the bathroom and sobbing in a closed stall. So much for Valentine’s day. 
It wasn’t until the end of the day, when you saw him walking your way in the parking lot, that you met his eyes. And you could see, with the set of his jaw; the arch of his brows, that he knew. Before you could scramble into your car, he was yelling after you. 
“Is your new hobby being extended to everyone or did I win the lucky draw? Cute note.” 
Oh, that bastard. 
You scoffed, looking him straight in the eye. “Call it a moment of weakness, Peña. Thought I felt something for you, and it was Valentine’s day. Pretty sure all I feel now is rage, you asshole.” 
A laugh from him. “Don’t be like that, hermosa. Let me know if you feel something between your legs for me, alright?”
Scowling, you turned from him and got into your car. You could have sworn he looked like a kicked puppy as you pulled out of the parking. These past few weeks, you had caught him looking at you more often. Finding excuses to touch you more often, too. A hand on your back, fingers accidentally grazing yours, his knee pressed against your thigh in Murphy’s backseat. Fucking idiot. You didn’t even know if you were madder at him or yourself. You know him. All of fucking Bogota knows him. God knows how you were foolish enough to think he felt anything except for between his legs. 
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A few months go by, excruciatingly slowly. It’s as if time itself has decided to fuck with you. You miss his gaze on you, his hands, his smile, him. You’ve been avoiding him like the plague. Stopped looking at him even when he was in the same room, hardly spoke to him even if it was in the middle of a raid, declined Connie’s many many invitations to parties you knew he’d be at. It was just easier to pretend that February the 14th had been a completely normal day. You’re just tired of all of it. It would have been easier not to have said anything at all. 
What you were completely unaware of, however, was that you had a sneaky little shit for a partner. The fact that he had clocked what was going on immediately was completely unbeknownst to you. Both of you pining silently with what Steve dubbed “moony heart eyes”, the radio silence, and the fact that you had stopped talking to Connie just so you didn’t have to show up to her parties? Something had gone wrong. Initially, Steve thought that maybe Javi had made an unwanted move on you - and had damn near scuffed him to death - until he saw Javi’s eyes the next day. Haunted. It seemed that you had managed to take more out of the man than Escobar had. But you weren’t faring much better, either. Irritated and tired and grumbly all the time, refusing to so much as look in Javi’s direction. But you both were pretty much just staying out of each other’s ways, not causing any trouble, so he let it go. For now. 
But then Steve and Javi had to chase a lead down together, and Javi introduced him to an informant who - with a little imagination - looked like your spitting image. The same hair, terrifying similar voice, and a lopsided grin, just like yours. And it clicked. The day that had started it all, and the “anonymous” note Javi had gotten. The idiocy with which you both had handled the situation made him want to run unarmed into a sicario’s den, but he came up with another idea instead. 
Just before a weekend he knew on good authority that you had no plans except for lounging in bed, he started nudging and hinting to Javi the randomest shit about you. Just to reignite the interest. Almost like, you know - bait. 
“Man, her hair looks good. I wonder if she got it done?”
“Hey Peña, d’ya reckon that’s a new skirt? Connie’d kill me if I didn’t ask where from”
“Javi - look - she got her nails done. Before an op? Doesn’t that get a bit…impractical? Hey, I’m jus’ asking.” 
Each time, Steve was met with an irritated eyeroll, scoff, or just flat-out ignored. But around midnight on Friday, he ‘bust out the big guns’, so to speak, making an offhanded comment while jutting his chin out in the direction of your chair. 
“Good thing she left early. Never woulda made it to the date tomorrow mornin’ otherwise.”
Which, instead of being met with the usual options, was met with Javi’s brain almost short circuiting. The sight of his friend, gaping like a fish as his eyes practically bulged out of his head while he stammered out the easiest one-syllable word in the English language is one Steve can never forget. Or let Javi forget, either. 
“W-wha-what?”
And so, like the most devious matchmaker on the planet, Steve proceeded to make up some utter bullshit about a boy he’d supposedly seen you around with, one that had apparently asked you out tonight to meet him for ‘brunch’ tomorrow. Just to fuck with Javi, he made the guy from LA, and a tourist. And white. And the kinda hippie who did yoga and spoke about his newly-discovered chakras all the time. 
Javier could feel the blind panic clawing at his chest, his heart threatening to burst. He didn’t know exactly why, but he had hated every single second you hadn’t spoken to him. Laughed at his jokes. Flashed him your smile, even the sarcastic one. He missed your quips and the way you groaned and swore at him when he pissed you off. He’d convinced himself he could live with that. But this? A date with some idiot he knew wouldn’t treat you right? He couldn’t understand his own feelings compelling him to pack up in a frenzy, ignore Steve’s pointed laugh, scramble into his car and drive straight to your apartment. He didn’t even stop to smooth his hair back, or fix the wrinkles in his shirt from slumping in it all day. No, all that mattered to him in that moment was you. Who was he kidding? He knew exactly why he felt the way he did. He’d just been under the illusion that ignoring it would make it go away, but it hadn’t. He had to fix this now. 
Standing on your doorstep, Javi blinked for a second while marveling at how fast that drive had been - he’d barely registered doing anything since he heard the word date come out of Steve’s mouth. Hesitation clamped a hand over his mouth, his body, and he stood frozen, unsure of whether to knock or just turn around. But if not now, never, right? And who knew how long he would live? Wasn’t this a time he should be getting what he wants, spending time with the people he…loves? 
Before he could overthink himself out of doing it, Javi raised his fist and rapped it against your door, twice. And when you opened the door, rubbing your eyes and standing there in your sleep shorts and an oversized shirt, it took a second for his brain to catch up. It wasn’t until you were squinting at him, then stumbling over nothing as your eyes widened that he realised where he was. The hurt on your face in the split second before you moved to close the door had him jamming his foot in the doorframe. 
“Just hear me out, hermosa. I promise if you want me to fuck off after that, I will.” 
After waiting for you to nod and open your door wordlessly, he stalked after you, further into your apartment, stunned by how homely it was. The walls had pictures of you and other people laughing, of art and paintings and sketches that seemed to all have been done by the same person; the sofa was a rich brown leather and the fluffy throw on it just a shade lighter. Everything was carefully coordinated, in color and texture, and he couldn’t help but note the contrast. Some of his stuff was still in boxes. He’d been in Colombia for longer than you, and his stuff was still in boxes. The difference was laughable. 
But when he heard a sniffle from ahead, he found himself walking faster - practically walking into you - before he was planting his hands on your shoulders to turn you around to him, and then gripping the sides of your arms as if they were his salvation. His eyes searched yours, and the heartbreak he found as you tried to look away threatened to make his knees buckle. So he hooked an index finger under your chin to tilt your head up to him, resting his forehead against yours. Moving his thumb to smooth out the furrow in your brow, he huffed at the stubborn frown that refused to budge. 
“I am sorry. I truly am. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know how to react. I want you, and I did then, too. But I just…didn’t think it was real. I swear I thought you were joking at first. It’s why I let the guys see. Then I saw you in the parking lot, and you were actually sad, and I just panicked. I just don’t think I was ready back then. But I swear to God, I can’t bear another six months of the cold shoulder. I love you, you know. I’ve just been too much of an idiot to realise it.” 
For a whole minute, you just stare at him unblinkingly. Then, suddenly, your face crumples, limbs slackening in his grip. He holds you through it, letting you sob into his chest as he coos reassurances and apologies to you until you pull back from his embrace to look at him questioningly once more. 
“Why now?” Your words make Javi smile, and he cocks a brow at you. 
“You really thought I’d let that idiot take you out before I told you how I feel?” 
You look even more confused now, which is confusing him in turn. 
“Wait, what idiot?” There’s no twinkle in your eye - no smirk tugging at your lips. Not a joke. 
“The one who…asked you out?” Javi cocks his head at you, watching your frown deepen. 
“Who?” The absolute befuddlement on your face is on the verge of making him snigger, and he feels his lips twitching already. 
“The-does Murphy know? That you weren’t busy tonight?” His overworked mind supplies the answer to him, and he has never more in his life wanted to punch and hug his other partner simultaneously. 
“Oh, yeah. He asked cause Connie wanted to know if she could come over? I guess she must have gotten caught- oh. Oh.” Javi gives you a moment to reach the same conclusion he did, and both of you end up bursting out in laughter at the same time. 
But Steve was the one with the biggest grin when, come Monday morning, a bottle of premium whiskey and a brand new watch sat on his desk with a little note: 
Well played, motherfucker. 
What is it they say about couples adopting each other’s habits when they get into a relationship? Javi’d picked up your so-called hobbies within a weekend. 
You ended up spending enough time with each other to pick up everything else, too. Call it cliché, but atleast you weren’t boring. Or, you know, going on dates with imaginary guys that existed only in Steve’s extremely limited imagination. Win-win. 
hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore,@millerscoffee, @ nostalxgic, @sscorpiiiio, @pedrosaidsheispunk dividers by @reveriesources
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romanarose · 9 months ago
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Banner by @winniethewife
Oscar Issac/Pedro Pascal Fan Art and Fiction Pride Event 2024
Hello friends!
Let's try this again and I'll try to be more clear to not invoke discourse. That being said, it is *my* event and if you'd like to run one a certain way, go nuts. However, this is how I'm doing it.
I had a lot of fun doing Dead Dove December and the Triple Frontier Anniversary Event so I decided I wanted to do an event for pride this year! I know it seems far away right now, especially given how many of us in north America are still cold af, but I wanna give everyone time!
Each week of pride will have a theme to write or draw for (you don't have to do all of them! Think of it like kinktober.) at the end, I will put out a masterlist (or multiple depending how many)so we can all share each other's work.
Why?
Oscar Isaac and Pedro Pascal are both allies to LGBT people, Pedro having played multiple queer rolls and having likened his sexuality to that of Prince Oberyn. Despite none of the characters being canon queer, Triple Frontier specifically lends itself to queer stories. Recently, theres been a rise in stories of Oscar characters in relationships or Pedro characters in relationships which I love.
What I'd really like to do is encourage people to think past x fem!reader or canon presentation of characters. I want to encourage gay, lesbian, bisexual relationships, trans readers, trans interpretations of characters etc. More content guidelines will be in the what section.
Where?
Primarily tumblr.com, our very own shithole hellsight. However, especially given tumblr's censorship vs. twitter, I am encouraging posting on twitter or wherever you'd like. If you post something elsewhere, send me a link or send me a post you made about it on tumblr and I'll promote the link.
Additionally if you only write on ao3, I'd love for you to participate too! Once again, just send the link!
When?
in order to do the week by week themes and hold all of June, there will be 6 weeks from May 26th-July 6th
Each week will have themes. I won't be policing the weeks and these so if you do the 1st week on july 3rd, that's fine. The themes are keeping in mind both artists and writers. I only got one artist for DDD, a great piece and I've love to see more! Ideas are just for spit balling, do your own take!
May 26th-June 1st: Coming out. Ideas: Coming out to family, lover, friend. Finding gender affirming clothes/hair, first pride
June 2nd-8th: Transitioning Ideas: Surgary, surgery scars, starting T or E, binding (safely!!!)
June 9th-15th: Sex/kissing First time together, first time with certain biology or the same sex, sweet kisses, smut showing scars,
June 16th-22nd: Food, fashion, fun
All things queer culture and culture of different religions, racial or country backgrounds, queer fashion, gender affirming clothes, Keshet (קשת), listening to Lady Gaga or Bruce Springsteen, watching a queer movie
June 23rd-29th: Struggles Rejection, reconciling faith and identity, missing family that rejected one, comfort, candlelight vigil, day of remembrance.
June 30th- July 6th:Strength Asserting ones or a partner/friend/family's pronouns, standing up against hate, being loudly and proudly yourself, pride events
Who?
Writers and artists in any form are welcome. I also want to encourage working with each other, writers and artists together!
For characters: Any Oscar Isaac or Pedro Pascal character has to at least be in the relationship. Other characters in universes can be done, such as FishBen.
Reader can be anyone, just properly tag! If you want to come out to Marc Spector as bisexual, do it!!! If you want Joel to take care of you after top surgery, do it!
YOU DO NOT NEED TO BE QUEER TO PARTICIPATE!
However! Please do your research if writing or drawing an identity not yours. There are trans, nonbinary, gay, lebian etc bloggers all over tumblr who write about their experience, please divert to first person testimonies rather than assumptions.
What?
A few rules
MUST contain more than male character x fem!reader. Male character x fem!reader x male character does not count unless the two male characters are romantically or sexually involved or one or the reader is trans. Any Q's, dm me!
This is not a dark event. I'm not going to be policing the content matter but I really want to primarily focus on the pride. However, as a bisexual, gender non-conforming person I know a lot of pain can still be involved. What we are not doing is suicide, death, self-harm, or non consensual activity. If you have questions or would like to make a case for something, just dm me!
This is not inherently NSFW, but there is absolutely NSFW allowed. Always tag everything properly.
The usual no's like bestiality, incest, underage nsfw etc
As far as minor characters, SFW MINOR CHARACTERS IS ALLOWED. You can write or draw lgbt themes because being LGBT is not inherently sexual. For example, teenage Santi coming out as trans to Frankie or your own version of Ellie and Joel's talk about Ellie and Dina kiss. That being said, I'd prefer to reserve this to teens. Again, any questions or ideas that don' quite fit into parameters, just ask!
As always, I am allowed to use my discretion. If I do not want to include something, I won't. However, I know that there are rifts in the fandom. I won't be excluding you out of personal bias. As long as I don't have you blocked and you haven't plagerized or done something really bad to people, you'll be included. I'm not letting petty beefs get in the way. Harmful actions will, however. I need to protect my peace and keep
NO REAL PERSON FANFICTION. Do not write about Oscar Isaac or Pedro pascal being gay or trans and do not make any assumptions about their sexuality or gender identity. Oscar is happily married to a woman and Pedro has expressed his sexuality is like that of Oberyn Martell but has not elaborated much further, nor should he have to. Just leave ‘em be. You can speculate elsewhere but that’s not what this event is for.
How?
Simply tag me, @romanarose and use the #OscarPedroPrideEvent2024 please please please use BOTH so it's easier for me to find!!!
When the event is over, much like DDD I will compiled them into a masterlist and posted. This is a chance for every blog, big and small, to get a moment in the sun and to share each others works! Remember, reblogging, comments, and interacting is what makes this a community! I want to create an environment that is welcoming and we all help each other.
Please feel free to reach out to me for any questions or clarification!
However, if you go issues with me writing men kissing, chracters being trans, queer readers etc, I'm not really open to debate.
~A nonbinary bisexual <3
224 notes · View notes
toomanystoriessolittletime · 5 months ago
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Midnight Rain
Summary: Waking up in the middle of the night to a storm raging outside, you find Javi outside on the porch, deciding to have him right then and there.
Pairing: Javier Peña x fem. reader
Rating: E
Wordcount: 1.9k
Warnings: oblivious idiots, mentions of divorced reader, reader in her mid thirties, smoking (both Javi and reader), alcohol, thunder storms, smut (unprotected sex, semi public sex), kissing, one ass slap, dirty talk, the word slut is used, some fluff at the end
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Full Masterlist // Javier Peña Masterlist
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You couldn’t sleep.
Well, you couldn’t fall back asleep. 
When you got back to the ranch earlier that evening you had eaten a sandwich, taken a shower and fallen asleep as soon as your head had fallen against your pillow. 
It had been a long day of taking care of all the horses and making sure the barn was secured for the night. 
The heavy rain outside must have woken you up, the storm that had been forecasted for earlier that day now raging outside. You sat yourself up on your tiny single bed, parting the curtains so you could look into the darkness outside. 
Sometimes, when you were sitting in the small room Chucho Peña had provided you after you had shown up on his ranch out of the blue, asking if he needed any help with the animals you asked yourself how your life had ended up like this.
In your mid thirties, divorced, without any money, working as a ranch hand (though you were more of a all around hand, mostly tasked with taking care of the house, food and garden).
Chucho had seen something in you and he had quickly become the father you never had. 
And then his son Javier had come home. 
It was instant, at least for you, the attraction you felt towards him. 
He was tall, dark and handsome and there was something in his eyes familiar to you. It was the same hurt you saw in yours every time you looked into the mirror. 
And it took a while for him to warm up to you, the past years he had spent in Colombia haunting his every thought.
Getting used to that strange woman that was now living in his childhood home, laughing with his father in the kitchen. 
The woman that was sleeping in the tiny guest bedroom next to his childhood bedroom that he lived in yet again, because he had not idea what to do with his life. 
The woman he fucked for the first time after a fourth of July celebration almost two years ago, fireworks going off while he was balls deep inside of you on the backseat of his truck in the parking lot of the already closed gas station he had stopped at on your way home. 
You hadn’t really stopped since then. 
For more than two years you had been sleeping with Javier whenever you both felt like it. 
But that was all it was. 
Sex. 
Because you both weren’t ready for more. Or to name these… feelings you had whenever you were in each other’s arms. 
Thunder outside made you jump on the bed and you grabbed one of Javier’s flannel shirts you had stolen the week before, pulling it over your naked body. 
You would tell him you were scared of thunder when he would wake up to you in his bed the next morning. 
Because you could not tell him that the only way you found yourself sleeping lately, was in his arms. 
Not yet.
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He did not hear you as you opened the door, the heavy rain continuing to fall. 
You had looked for him in his room, finding the bed still made. But there was a light on in the kitchen so you followed you intuition, finding him outside. 
Javier was sitting in the far left corner of the porch, legs spread wide, a cigarette between his fingers, a tumbler of what would probably be whiskey in his other hand. 
He was only wearing some sweatpants, the very same sweatpants that would make you forget what you wanted to say mid sentence when he had them on, or more like what was hiding beneath them. 
You let the door fall shut behind you and he looked up, those dark brown eyes wandering up from your feet all over your body towards your eyes before he looked away again, bringing his cigarette back to his lips, inhaling the smoke deeply. 
You both just stared out, the rain seemingly getting heavier before you heard him set his glass down on the ground. He spread his legs wider and you bit your lip before you slowly walked over to him, stopping as you stood between his legs for only a moment, before you climbed into his lap, the hand that had been holding his glass moments ago, coming down to rest on your ass immediately, making you shiver. 
You reached for the cigarette between his lips, and he raised his eyebrows in confusion until you slipped it between yours so you could take a puff, his eyes softening in amusement. You felt his other hand slip under your shirt, his fingers brushing the underside of your tits. 
„Was wondering where this shirt went,“ he hummed and your lips twitched into a small smile as you took another puff of his cigarette before you threw it outside into the rain. He was about to complain when you crossed your arms behind his neck and brought you lips against his, his mouth opening against your as you exhaled the smoke from your lungs. 
Closing your eyes as he kissed you, you brought one hand up to slip through his hair while his hands both now rested on your ass, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer against him, his hips thrusting up against yours, his cock hardening beneath you. 
He spread your cheeks before one of his hands slipped further down and you felt him chuckle against you.
„No panties and a half buttoned shirt. What a little slut you are,“ he said, his voice hoarse and you gasped when you felt two of his fingers enter you, your slick coating your his fingers as he played with you. 
„Says Mr. No shirt and no boxers, sitting outside with his legs spread like a who…. Fuck Javi right there,“ you moaned, biting your lip as he moved his fingers inside of you.
„Right there?“ He asked with a smirk and you nodded, looking down at him as you arched your back. 
„Touched myself but couldn’t… fuck… couldn’t finish. Needed, needed…“ you whimpered.
„Your pussy needed me, huh?“ He teased and you whined. 
He made quick work of the few buttons that kept his shirt on you, his lips closing around one of your nipples, as soon as he had slipped his shirt down your shoulders, revealing your naked chest to him. 
„Javi… Please…“ you moaned, one of your hands on his shoulders, holding on while your other hand was still in his hair, now pulling him against your tits as he sucked on one of them. 
„What do you need, princess?“ He mumbled. 
„Need your cock. Wanna cum on your cock. Please,“ you begged and you felt his teeth pull at you nipple, making you hiss before he let go. His dark eyes looked up at you, before his fingers pulled out of you and he pushed his sweatpants down just so he could release his cock. 
Before he could do anything you had him lined up with you and slowly sank down on him, both of you releasing a long moan. 
Lightening made you jump before you sank down on his cock completely and Javier hissed, his arms coming around you to pull you closer, both of you breathing heavily before you both laughed. 
„Maybe we should take this inside,“ he said as he looked up at you, one of his hands brushing up and down your spine. You shook your head before you brushed your lips against his. 
„No. I want you just like this,“ you whispered against his lips before you began to move your hips. He hummed, his hand now on the back of your head, pulling you against his lips so he could deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips to part them. 
You rode him slowly. 
One arm wrapped around his shoulders while your other hand rested on his chest. 
Javi’s hand was on your ass, guiding the way you moved on top of him while his lips kissed whatever part of your skin he could reach. 
The rain and the fact that you were out in the open were forgotten as he began to meet your hips, thrusting up into you. You wrapped both of your arms around him, moving on top of him so you could ride him deeper, your chest now in perfect height so he could suck on your tits. 
„Oh fuck Javi,“ you moaned and he slapped your ass, fucking up into you, meeting your hips in audible smacks every time you skin collided. 
You could feel the familiar tingles of your orgasm approaching. 
„I’m close,“ he warned and you whimpered. 
„Me too,“ you gasped, crying out when he bit into the soft flesh over your right nipple, marking you yet again. 
„Cum for me,“ he grunted and you looked down at him. 
„Cum for me so I can take you inside and have you sit on my face until you pass out,“ he continued and you let him take over, letting him fuck into you in quick hard thrusts as you orgasm took over, making you shake against him your fingers digging into his skin on his broad back as you held on to him. 
„Such a good slut for me,“ he praised you, now chasing his own high, fucking into you a couple more times until you felt him spill himself inside of you, your name a deep rumble against you neck as he hugged you against his body. 
You stayed just like this for a moment. In each others arms, out of breath, the rain still coming down heavy just outside the porch. 
It was when he felt you shiver that you both came out of your post orgasm bliss. He pulled his shirt that you somehow still were half wearing back up over your shoulders, kissing you softly, a tired smile on his lips. 
„We should get inside,“ he hummed against your lips. You nodded, yet none of you moved, being content just like this, close, in each others arms, deep in the night when nobody was awake to see you like this. 
You could feel him drip of of you, his softening cock still inside of you. 
„Javi?“ You asked, your head resting against his shoulder. 
„Hm?“ He kissed your temple. 
„Can I sleep in your bed tonight?“ You whispered. He was quiet for a moment and you were about to get up from him when his arms around you tightened and you looked at him. 
„I… I suck at this,“ he sighed and you tilted your head. 
„Suck at what?“
„Relationships,“ he mumbled and your eyes softened. 
„Is that what this is?“ You asked quietly and his eyes were big and he looked so so scared. 
„It could be, if you want that,“ he finally said and you smiled. You reached one hand up so you could touch his cheek before you leaned in and kissed him softly. 
„I do want that,“ you mumbled and you felt him smile against your lips.
„Yeah?“ Javi asked and you nodded. 
„Good, cause I am not letting you go ever,“ he whispered, before kissed you again. 
421 notes · View notes
talaok · 9 months ago
Note
Okay so I’m thinking Pedro x Actress!reader where another famous guy/actor says in an interview that he has a crush on us which makes Pedro a bit jealous and then we all end up at the same event - maybe Pedro gets abit angsty with him but he’s super loving and affectionate toward us…
warnings: jelousy
a/n: it goes without saying that i apologize for the wait babe, i really loved this request 
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It wasn't that he hated him, it was just that if anything were to happen to him he wouldn't be the one to cry, that's all...
and maybe he'd thought about punching that smug look off his face once... or twice... or every time the thought of him came up.
But it still wasn't hate
Hate is a strong word, and Pedro wasn't not one to throw it around easily, he was all for peace and love and everything but this guy... this guy was really pushing the limits
And what the actual fuck was he even doing here tonight?
"You're staring"
Your soft, amused voice pulled him out of his own thoughts, his eyes sliding to you
"I just don't get why he's here"
You stifled a laugh as you answered "The same reason why we are baby"
"he's not even nominated" he grumbled,
"neither am I" You smiled, placing your hand on his cheek, feeling his soft scruff graze your palm "It's not a big deal babe, he probably said my name just because it was the first one that popped into his mind" you shook your head "I bet it's not even true"
Yeah right
He would have believed that if you were anybody else, but you... fuck- it didn't take him even a second to fall in love and you expected him to believe that that guy didn't have a crush on you? He would have sooner begun believing that Mark Zuckerberg was one of those lizard guys.
You were everything anyone could have ever dreamed of, you were funny, so incredibly smart it made him feel like a fifth grader in comparison, and god you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen 
he knew what you did to men, he knew what you did to men because that's exactly what you did to him,
and he didn't even mind that much, he'd never been the jealous type, but the problem with Shawn wasn't that he liked you (because he clearly did), but it was that he had the audacity, the smugness to fucking say it out loud, to admit it in front of a camera for anyone to see, like the woman he was talking about didn't have a husband, like he wasn't her fucking husband.
"I saw him look at you before"
This time, you did let out a little snort
"what, how dares he?" you mocked him, laughing again as his face remained completely unamused "It's your big night babe, don't let this silly little thing ruin it, please"
But just then, just when he was finally starting to let go a little, the focus of all of his loathing appeared beside you
"I'm sorry to interrupt-"
Then fucking don't
"I just wanted to introduce myself" 
Shawn's eyes were only on you, as if he didn't even exist, as if your hands hadn't been on his cheeks but a moment prior
"I'm Shawn," he said, offering his hand to you "I'm... well, I'm a really big fan" he ended with a soft laugh, smiling in that charming way that surely made women all woozy
"Hi Shawn, it's a pleasure to meet you-"
As you shook his hand, Pedro was closing his into fists
This fucking guy-
"Hi pal"
Pedro's voice didn't sound even a little bit not completely pissed off
"I'm Pedro," he said "her husband"
The flicker of amusement that sparked behind his eyes made Pedro seriously ponder whether or not a little punch was that bad of an idea
"Oh, I didn't know you were married"
Andrew's eyes were back to you, and god it was taking all of Pedro not to grab him and throw him to the other side of the room
Just the fact that he was looking your way seemed too much, 
How dare he look at you, at his beautiful wife, at the love of his life?
It felt wrong, it was wrong, and it was making him furious
"I'm sure you didn't" Pedro grunted, taking a slow step closer to him "Shawn right?" he asked, even though he knew much too well who he was "What exactly are you doing here?" Pedro's eyes narrowed, his head tilting "I didn't notice your name in any of the nominations"
"baby" your soft warning was met with a soft smile from him, one that faded into a stoic/murderous gaze as soon as your husband's eyes were back on the man before him
"I'm just asking a question sweetheart, that's all"
Shawn seemed to accept Pedro's challenge in the blink of an eye
"I'm here with a friend, he's the one that got the nom"
Pedro nodded slowly, "ah. Right," he said, his hand going to your back and drawing gentle circles on it
He didn't miss the way Shawn followed the movement
"And why exactly are you talking to my wife Shawn?"
Now that, that seemed to take him aback a little, but he recovered quickly
"What?" he laughed "is no one allowed to talk to your wife without your permission or something?"
"Oh absolutely not, my wife can talk to whomever she wishes," Pedro spoke "I'm just not very fond of her talking to men that have openly admitted to liking her" he shrugged as if his eyes and voice weren't yelling murder 
You, in the meantime, were busy looking for the fastest way out of this place
"You've seen the video," Shawn said more like a statement
"I sure did" Your husband nodded "I especially liked the part where you described her as your "dream woman""
Shawn sighed loudly, shaking his head
"listen, man-"
"No, you listen, man" Pedro interrupted him "How 'bout you get the fuck away from me and my wife, mh?" he said more like a threat "How bout that?"
Shawn let out a loud breath before responding
"whatever man" he sighed, his eyes moving to you "It was nice to meet you y/n, maybe we can meet another time..." he glanced to the man on your right "when the guard dog isn't around"
"yeah" Pedro scoffed "Go fuck yourself, buddy"
You both stared at his back as he walked away, but after no more than two seconds, you couldn't help but let your lips pull into the smile you'd been holding this whole time
"that was a bit harsh"
Pedro only grinned as he brought you flash against him with his hands on your waist
"Like you haven't done worse" he smirked
Yeah... while Pedro wasn't usually jealous, you were... let's just say you were not exactly on the same wavelength
"you looked ready to kill him" you chuckled, wrapping your arms behind his neck
"mh" he hummed, ghosting your mouth "Who says I wasn't" he teased, his lips crashing with yours in a long, deep kiss that Pedro absolutely didn't wish for Shawn to be witnessing
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 2 years ago
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Letterman Jacket
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Javier Peña x F!Reader oneshot
{ Main Masterlist }
Rating: E (18+ only)
Summary: Tensions come to a head between you and Javier on the private jet back to Bogotá after a long, frustrating day. Or rather - after six long, frustrating years of bad blood.
Word count: 3.5k
Warnings: My first PW(much)P, enemies to lovers, arguing, swearing, drinking, dirty talk, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, thigh riding, no use of Y/N, soft!Javier
Notes: After obsessing over this damn jacket forever, I finally pulled the trigger. This is my first ever Javier, and I know he’s not perfect, but my 2023 resolution is to not overthink things, and I had a blast writing this in a couple of days since the idea came to me. I’m so nervous posting this, but excited to have finally made a start with Javier. Please be gentle with me ❤️
P.S. I’m going on my honeymoon the next 2 weeks. I’m sure I’ll be lurking around, and I also have new content all queued up for @fuckyeahpedropascal! See you!
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I’m still finding Javier’s voice, but my understanding and interpretation of this man so far is definitely shaped by @the-ginger-hedge-witch character analyses and The Crush (which I’m still catching up on). Thank you Professor Ren for sharing your insight into our favourite DEA agent 🥰
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It’s cold.
Why is it cold in fucking Miami?
If only you’d checked the weather report beforehand - oh wait, that’s right. You weren’t exactly given much notice, even less detail, when the phone call came this morning. Not that 4am should count as "morning" in your books.
We found him.
Who?
Jurado. Take the first flight out to Curacao this morning, it’s in two hours. We’re taking him in and flying straight to Miami. Get the papers ready, he’ll be testifying tomorrow.
What the actual fuck, Peña -
You can’t even remember what you stuffed into your weekender bag after he hung up without another word. Mostly legal papers and pens and a change of clothes - all of which are now redundant. The bag hangs heavy in your grip, the taste of failure bitter in your mouth.
Something warm descends onto your shoulders, and you almost jump out of your skin, eyes wide as they snap up. Javier isn’t looking at you though, his unseeing gaze trained on the tips of his brown leather boots, hands in the pockets of his dark blue jeans. He trudges across the tarmac, the bravado that is usually so loud in his walk conspicuously absent.
Reaching up, you pull his jacket tighter with your free hand, the stretch of the fabric distorting the bold letters DEA emblazoned on the left lapel. He doesn’t wear it often - he’s in suits mostly these days, which you can tell pisses him off to no end. He almost never does his tie up properly, a subtle middle finger to the establishment, perhaps.
Your lips twitch despite yourself. Peña’s always been happier going on literal wild goose chases.
The jacket easily engulfs you, blocking out the unwelcome evening chill. You breathe in the faint but unmistakable scent of cigarettes and you can feel the weight of a full box swing against your side. He keeps insisting he’s trying to quit, but obviously not very hard.
Somehow, it doesn’t feel any warmer in the plane cabin, and you put your arms through the sleeves of the jacket properly before sinking heavily into one of the plush leather seats with a sigh, relieved to get off your sore feet.
You don’t notice the small plane taking off with just the two of you, sitting silently opposite each other until the flight path levels, at which point Javier promptly heads to the small bar at the end of the cabin and comes back with two generous glasses of whiskey.
Sipping in silence, you let your gaze settle on him, no subtlety left in the tank after your shitty day at twenty hours and counting. Javier, in turn, stares listlessly out of the window, uninterested in your scrutiny. Strands of mussed hair fall over his tired eyes, the dark circles underneath shadowing his entire countenance.
His pink shirt, which was drenched in sweat when he’d finally, finally caught up to Jurado in that square in Curacao, has long dried in the cool Miami air. And of course it’s tight and the neckline unbuttoned halfway down his chest, the poor fabric stretched to an inch of its life by his obnoxiously wide shoulders. It’s tucked into even tighter jeans that seem to struggle to contain all of him.
Honestly, it’s a damn miracle he could do any running at all in this ensemble.
You stare at the little fold-up table between the two of you. It had been covered in papers en route to Miami just hours ago, the Cali moneyman sitting exactly where you are now. Jurado agreed to the lesser charges of money laundering and racketeering in exchange for testifying for the DEA. You had him. He was in that interview room. The lawyers from the Miami county court were ready to take over.
But somehow, that smarmy, rotund excuse of a cartel lawyer got there first.
A heavy sigh catches your ear over the whir of the plane engines, and you watch as Javier drags one heavy hand over his face, the tips of his thick fingers resting above his pursed lips, before he shakes his head.
The words are out of your mouth before your head catches up. ‘Stop it.’
Dark eyes flicker your way, brows drawing into a frown. ‘What?’
Your empty glass clunks loudly when it hits the table. ‘Stop beating yourself up. We both know this is out of our hands. Quit the self-martyrdom bullshit.’
The grin comes quickly and sarcastically. You hate it. He’s never been big on smiles, but you’ve seen how his face can light up with a laugh over a drink, or at a good joke. From a distance, of course, and never in your direction. You’ve only ever had scowls and glares thrown your way.
You’re not alone though - these days, that’s all anyone ever gets from him.
Leaning back in his chair, one big palm cradling the bottom of the crystal tumbler that looks much smaller than it should, and the other resting on his thigh, Javier huffs a sardonic laugh. ‘Is that what you think of me?’
‘I don’t think it. I know it.’
‘You don’t know me,’ he answers coolly.
You roll your eyes. ‘Don’t flatter yourself, Peña. You’re not some pouty, brooding mystery to me. I’ve been cleaning up after your mess for six fucking years.’ Shaking your head, you can’t help adding, ‘Not that you’ve ever appreciated any of it.’
He gives you a derisive snort. ‘I wasn’t aware that I should be thanking you for getting in my way at every turn.’
‘Getting in your way?’ you chuckle mirthlessly. ‘I’ve been trying to keep you out of jail, asshole.’
‘Maybe you shouldn’t be.’
‘Is this what all this is about? Some survivor’s guilt bullshit?’ Unperturbed by his silence, you press on. ‘Well guess what, I don’t work for you. Having the attaché in jail isn’t really a good look for our employer, so bad news, you’re a free man as long as I’m legal counsel for the DEA.’
‘It would make my life a lot fucking easier if you weren’t.’
The words are so quiet, so matter-of-fact, they have no right to hit you as hard as they do. You’re horrified to feel the sting of tears on the seam of your eyelashes, and your lips part wordlessly before you regain your voice. ‘Fuck you, Peña.’
He winces and sits up, setting his glass next to yours on the table. ‘Shit. That came out wrong -’
Nails dig into your palms as hurt threatens to claw its out of the carefully locked compartment where you keep it. ‘No, I think it came out exactly as you meant it. You’ve hated me since day one.’
‘I don’t hate you -’
You glare at him. ‘You think I don’t know what people say behind my back over drinks at the embassy bar, when I’m stuck in the office dealing with whatever legal bullshit you’ve dug yourself into? I bet you like a good laugh at my expense.’
Shifting forward in his seat, Javier reaches out and grabs your left wrist. ‘Stop it. I don’t. You know I wouldn’t.’
You try to pull back but he doesn’t budge, easily holding you in place. You bite out, ‘I’ll quit if that’s what you want. Might as well make both of our lives easier with one resignation letter.’
Javier’s hold on you tightens, and he bares his teeth in frustration. ‘That’s not what I want.’
‘That’s exactly what you said you wanted just now. Why don’t you make up your fucking mind, Peña?’ you snap back.
‘I can’t,’ he snarls, his other hand finding your free wrist, almost jolting you out of your seat. He’s so close you can smell the whiskey on his breath. ‘I’ve never been able to with you.’
You go as still as the air around you, the mixed signals scrambling the wires in your already exhausted head. You narrow your eyes and him and hiss, ‘What?’
Javier heaves a sigh, breathing out the words through gritted teeth and eyes screwed shut. ‘You drive me up a fucking wall, woman.’
Anger surges in you, and you manage to yank both of your wrists free. Pushing him away, you spit at him with all the venom you can muster. ‘Fuck you, too!’
He growls, raking one hand through his hair before slamming it onto the fold-up table, making the glasses clink when they knock together from the force. ‘Goddamnit, won’t you just hear me? I can’t decide if I want you to shut the fuck up or if I just - want you.’
You watch his broad chest rise and fall in quick succession as he slumps in his chair, as if the last two words that are still ringing in your ears knocked the wind out of him.
Want you.
His eyes follow from under thick lashes when you reach out for the glasses, relocating them to the carpeted floor on the other side of your chair, before finding the lever underneath the table and folding it down. And you don’t miss the way his stare falls to your legs as you cross them deliberately, skirt hitching higher up, his Adam’s apple bobbing thickly in the column of his neck.
You tilt your head to one side in a challenge. ‘Well? What are you going to do about it, then?’
He’s out of his chair and on you in a beat, his arms caging you in as you pull him close by the collar of his shirt. You murmur against his lips, ‘You’re a fucking asshole, Peña.’
‘I know. Let me make it up to you -’ The words barely make it out of his mouth before he kisses you, lips warm and wet and pressing into yours insistently.
You let out a surprised yelp when Javier tugs you onto your feet, hot hands pushing his jacket off your shoulders but leaving it hanging from the crook of your arms. Goosebumps bloom where his fingers brush your sternum as he unbuttons your sleeveless shirt underneath, tugging it free from where it’s neatly tucked into your skirt.
You retort, ‘You’re going to make up for six years of bad blood on a three-hour flight?’
‘Well, what are you doing tomorrow?’ he asks almost conversationally, and with a casual flick, he undoes the front clasp of your bra. He breathes a raspy fuck as he palms your tits reverently, the contact making you shudder.
‘Actually, I was going to have a sit down with you. A little birdy told me some outrageous story about the DEA attaché endorsing wiretapping,’ you reply teasingly, wrestling with the small buttons on his shirt.
Javier chuckles, clever fingers sliding down your back and undoing the zipper on your pencil skirt, which pools about your now bare feet after kicking off your sensible low heels. ‘Fucking Stoddard. I knew he'd tattle on me.’
‘You better come prepared with a good defence, Peña,’ you quip, letting him spin you around and ease you into his seat, the leather still warm under your bare thighs. His pink shirt hangs open as he looms over you, so broad that he’s the only thing you see.
He hums and kisses down the side of your neck, stopping to suck on your pulse point. ‘How about a bit of incentive to go easy on me instead, hmm?’
You arch an eyebrow while he gets on one knee, then the other, but there’s no denying the wild rabbiting of your pulse despite your banter. ‘Bribery? Just one of the dirty tricks up your sleeves, Agent Peña?’
He peels your panties down the length of your thighs unhurriedly, smirking at the way you bite into your bottom lip as the scrap of fabric makes its descent. He hooks your right leg on his shoulder, then the left one, opening you up to his dark gaze as he smirks, ‘You ain’t seen nothing yet, cariño.’
It’s been too long. Too fucking long since you’ve been with anyone. Your hips arch clean off the leather seat at the first broad stroke of his tongue, confidently charting its way all the way up your folds. His weathered palms hold your thighs firmly apart as you writhe in his grip because it’s too much.
‘Javier,’ you breathe, meeting his almost cocky gaze as he stares up at you. He suckles wetly at your clit, lips puckering, and you buck hard into his mouth.
Granting you a brief reprieve, he moves off you with a wet smack of his lips and teases, ‘Am I making a good case for myself?’
‘Clearly not good enough if I’m still speaking in complete sentences,’ you somehow manage to counter.
He grins at you - a real one that lifts both corners of his mouth and chases away the shadows of his demons, and it has absolutely no business making your heart lurch the way that it does. ‘Touché, cariño.’
There’s no polite way of putting this. Javier eats you, meticulous and sloppy in turn, until your slick and his spit trail down the inside of your legs, and you feel the leather growing slippery underneath your bare ass. You can hear yourself over the roar of the plane engines, and you babble incoherently when he pushes his tongue into your pussy. ‘Javier, Javi -’
‘Gonna cum for me, cariño?’ He slurs as he sinks one, and then two fingers into you, biting out a filthy groan at how wet you are.
You nod desperately, finding purchase on his broad shoulders. ‘I’m so close, please -’
Pumping his fingers inside you until you squelch around them, he ducks down and laves your clit in earnest, pushing you until there’s nothing left - no air, no sound, no time and space - all the oxygen is sucked out of your lungs and your ears pop, and you cum so fucking hard with your hands tangled in his curls and his name on your lips.
‘Fuck, you’re so beautiful,’ he murmurs almost absent-mindedly, chasing your skin when you try to push him away. His moustache scrapes your thighs and sends a shudder running through you as you catch your breath. ‘I’m an idiot for waiting this long.’
Gently setting your legs down - not that you can feel them anyway - Javier turns his face to his right shoulder, and you watch in rapture as he smears the slick coating his mouth and chin onto his pink shirt, the wet spot staining the fabric.
Your lip curls in giddy amusement as you think to yourself - you look good on him.
Then he leans up to kiss you, and your head spins at the taste of yourself on his tongue and your scent on his moustache.
Pushing back the loose locks that now curl against his forehead, you sass, ‘That’s one trick. Are you going to show me another, Agent Peña?’
Without warning, his hands slide under your bare buttocks and he lifts you clean off the seat. You laugh and close your grip around his upper arms, feeling his muscles flex under your palms. You know without looking how his biceps must be straining against the short sleeves of his shirt.
He falls heavily into the chair with you straddling him, and you protest, ‘Stop, Javi, I’m going to make a mess of your jeans.’
‘I want you to make a mess,’ he declares in his rich baritone. ‘Want your pussy to soak my jeans, cariño.’
Desire flashes hot and fast up and down your spine. ‘But Javi, I just came -’ you break off as he grasps your hips and settles you onto his right thigh.
‘You can cum again,’ he shrugs with a cocksure definitiveness, coaxing a moan from you when he shifts and your folds drag along the denim. ‘Ride me, cariño.’
‘But what about you?’ You trace one palm down his bare chest and soft stomach to rest on the prominent bulge straining against the front of his tight jeans. He chokes when you give his erection a bold squeeze through the denim, which has you grinning smugly.
Covering your hand with his, he brings it up to kiss it softly. ‘Another time, it’s been a long day. Now - can I get back to making it up to you?’
Winding your arms around his neck, you rock against his thigh, feeling the wet imprint of the slick you leave behind on the coarse fabric as you move back and forth. His palms squeeze the swell of your ass reassuringly but loose enough so that you can find your own rhythm.
Javier patiently mouths his way down your neck and further, sucking hard on one nipple and then the other, making you throw your head back in a gasp.
‘You look so good wearing my jacket with your gorgeous tits out,’ he praises you, letting go of your hips to push your breasts together and laps at the soft flesh with his tongue.
‘Javier,’ you whine, tipping forward to bury your face in the long line of his neck.
The same neck you’ve sometimes wanted to wring in the heat of the moment, but also caught yourself staring at when he cradles the office phone in the crook of his shoulder. You can taste the salt on his skin - sweat and sea breeze and sunshine - and when the breath catches in his throat, your hips stutter, your orgasm so close to the surface.
As if sensing you need a bit of help, he whispers into your ear. ‘I can feel you so wet for me through my jeans, cariño. You’re doing so good for me.’
Feeling his nails dig into you as he guides you over his thigh, you whimper needily, ‘I’m so close.’
‘I know you are. You can do it - cum on my thigh.’
‘Oh fuck,’ you choke, pressing your forehead into his as you begin to shake, and he brushes his nose soothingly against yours. The impending vertigo sends you crashing into him, hands trembling on his shoulders, torn between clinging on and letting go. ‘Javi - I’m cumming, oh my god -’
And then he’s lunging towards you in a deep kiss, tongues tangling as you break again, a moan in his windpipe when he feels your pussy leak into his jeans as it clenches and clenches around nothing. Needing air, you pull back to slump bonelessly against him, panting hard into his neck, his palms drawing circles over your back.
You only realise you’ve drifted off when a sudden drop in altitude wakes you, and the PA system cackles to life with the captain’s ten-minute warning to landing. From the corner of your eye, you catch Javier watching you with a lopsided smile.
You duck your head sheepishly. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.’
‘Well, you did have a 4am wakeup call,’ he quips.
Sitting back on your haunches, you do up your bra and then the buttons on your now very crumpled shirt. Easing off him on wobbly legs, you pick up your panties and skirt from the floor and dress yourself quickly, smoothing out the wrinkles as best as you can. You smile at Javier, watching him he button up his pink shirt, stopping at the fourth one as always.
Stepping in between his spread legs, hands on his upper thighs, you press a soft kiss to his lips. You smile and drag a finger over the wet spot you left on his jeans. ‘That was fun.’
The corners of his eyes crinkle and he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip. ‘That might be an understatement of criminal proportions.’
You make to take off his jacket, but Javier shakes his head, tugging on the collar so it sits squarely on your shoulders. ‘Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.’
You can’t tell if it’s actually warmer when you step off the plane or if it’s the afterglow, but you keep the jacket on. Your respective cars are waiting on the airstrip next to each other, and Javier loads your weekender bag into the backseat before opening the door on the driver’s side, shutting it after you climb in.
You palm the steering wheel self-consciously as you stare at each other in a slightly awkward lull, before clearing your throat. ‘So, 9am sharp tomorrow at the 3rd floor conference room, Agent Peña?’
Javier smirks, but his eyes are warm as he shifts on his feet, leaning one elbow on the open window and cocks his head to one side. ‘Depends. Will you be wearing my letterman jacket?’
A bark of laughter escapes you. ‘Your letterman jacket? Should I pick up matching friendship bracelets for us before our meeting?’
With a lighthearted shake of his head, Javier half-turns to leave before stopping abruptly. Tapping two fingers on the window frame, he hesitates briefly, before looking up at you with earnest eyes, his voice quiet and almost solemn in its sincerity. ‘Thank you.’
Watching him go, your chest blooms with warmth at the eight letters and two little words you’ve waited six years to hear.
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At twenty-seven minutes to nine the next morning, you’re flinging open the front door of your apartment, car keys jingling and thermos balanced precariously in one hand, when a flash of white on navy catches your attention.
For a long moment, you stand off dramatically with the jacket draped across the back of a kitchen chair, the letters DEA staring back at you - before you reach for it and shrug it on with a silly grin.
What can you say? You’ve always had a thing for letterman jackets.
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More notes: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot! Comments and reblogs are always encouraged and so appreciated ❤️
Dividers by the wonderful @firefly-graphics as always 💕
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thesummerpetrichor · 2 years ago
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𝓞𝓯𝓯 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓼
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Javier Peña x afab!reader
Summary: You’re a sociology student writing your final thesis, you shouldn’t care whether the new DEA attaché is an asshole, you shouldn’t be getting on his nerves every chance you get, shouldn’t be dreaming of him the way you do, and you certainly shouldn’t be bent over his desk in the middle of the night– letting him fuck you senseless.
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, big girthy age gap [reader is in her early twenties Javier is in his mid 40s], petnames [sweetheart, girlie, baby, babygirl etc], smut, explicit sexual content, explicit language, daddy kink, dom!Javi, mean brat tamer! javi, sub!reader, major size kink, reader is a menace and a brat, cheek pulling, like two spanks and a slap, minor choking, degradation, name calling, fingering, semi public sex [in his office], rough sex, unprotected P in V [don't do it you’re better than them!!] let me know if I missed anything!!
Word count: 8.7k
A/N: Lotsa porn, lotsa plot. Filthier than I’d like to admit but here we are. Javier is emotionally unavailable but I don’t care. Enjoy nasties. Mwah 💗
Masterlist
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My old man is a bad man, but
I can't deny the way he holds my hand
And he grabs me, he has me by my heart
He doesn't mind I have a Las Vegas past
He doesn't mind I have a L.A. crass way about me
He loves me, with every beat of his cocaine heart
You were sure you looked nothing short of unstable– the way you were smiling to yourself as you hit the ‘submit’ button on the first checkpoint of your research paper. The past few months had been absolute chaos, and you weren’t really sure what was worse; the fact that your workplace had become an HR nightmare, or the way you were enjoying every goddamn second of it. 
Not long ago you’d been lucky enough to pack your bags and board a flight to Bogotá, where you were going to be writing your final sociology thesis. You’d fought tooth and nail with the department for this opportunity, and the fact that you were finally going to be there doing the work you’d always imagined– it was a dream. While you were initially a little weary of having to go through the American embassy to access records, and archives, you knew this was the best deal you were going to get, so you pushed your hesitation aside and took them up on their offer. You were obviously aware the department was going to give you hell for it– your work would be put under immeasurable scrutiny, they were going to bother you with emails all day every day, snoop around your work through their contacts at the embassy, and take any chance to fly you back. But it didn’t matter; it was going to be a dream. 
Impressing the ambassador was your top priority, impressing everyone around you really was. For as long as you could remember your bright smile, hard work and sunshine attitude had only worked in your favor. If there was one thing you enjoyed, it was the great privilege of being all your professors’ favorite student. That’s how you’d even convinced them to let you travel thousands of miles away on the university’s dime in the first place. 
The world of academia was hard, especially when you were starting out, everyone you dealt with wasn’t a progressive professor who valued your opinion despite your age and gender. Sometimes you needed help from the sleazy HOD, or the grumpy receptionist and neither cared about your expertise on Helmut Schoeck. It didn’t bother you, all you cared about was the quality of your work, and you were not going to let anyone get in the way of it. So, if good work and behaviour didn't get you what you wanted you just used your batting eyelashes, innocent pout and harmless bribes– the receptionist had mentioned liking strawberry shortcake nearly two years ago in passing, and that information sure as hell came in handy when you needed to get your paperwork sorted out. 
Boy did that skill of yours come in handy during your time in Bogotá
No one was going to make this experience anything but splendid, you were going to get to the embassy, meet the ambassador, charm her and all her coworkers in no time, make some trusted allies and go about your research unbothered and unfazed. You were determined. It was going to be a dream. 
That was until it was an absolute nightmare. The moment your plane’s wheels hit the tarmac you were slapped with wave after wave of absolute frustration. Your phone was inundated with missed calls from an unknown number, and when you called back you were promptly informed by the Ambassador’s secretary that due to spacing issues you were being relocated to the DEA offices at the far end of the embassy. 
Great, nothing better than being around a bunch of cops 24/7 .
You hadn’t made it three steps off the aerobridge before two men– both of whom looked terribly out of place in their baseball hats, grabbed you by the arm and dragged you through the airport. You wouldn’t say the word ‘accosted’ was dramatic when describing the way two employees of the American embassy had apprehended you. They didn't seem much older than you were, but they sure as hell thought they ran the damn place. When you thought about elitist diplomats thinking they were doing god's work you could be sure you imagined Agent Daniel Van Ness and Agent Chris Feistl’s faces before you’d even met them. 
“Ow! What the hell do you think you're doing?!” Van Ness pretty much tossed you into his suspicious, unmarked vehicle, and as if you weren’t sore from your excruciatingly long flight you were sure you were going to need some ice packs when you got to your service apartment. “Okay, let's not make a scene, as I said we were told to get you as soon as you got off that plane” Feistl started the engine with one hand, and put the other one up in mock surrender. 
“Didn’t know kidnapping was part of the Ambassador's agenda in Bogotá” .
The car ride to the embassy was mostly quiet, and you took the time to enjoy the beautiful Colombian city as it came into view, clear your head and mentally plan for your stay. That was, save for the two men’s grumbling about a certain Javier Peña. “Yeah, we miss this meeting and Peña’s gonna be on our ass for the next week” You’d quickly learnt he was a little bit of a hero in the DEA world, whatever that meant– took down Escobar and all. And if you couldn’t loathe him more already he was now promoted to attaché. From what Van Ness and Feistl told you  he sounded like a character– hard ass, stubborn, insolent, the list went on and on. This Javier must really be something
How bad could he really be? Probably some grumpy old guy you’d run into once in a while at the water station or fax machine. He’d pay no mind to you; some irrelevant college student. Besides, you’d win him over with your signature smile. Who knew maybe you’d even become friends? “Well Im looking forward to meeting this Javier Peña” 
 “No one has ever said that. I don't think his mother said that when he was poppin’ out.” 
And boy were they right, Javier Peña really was something. The elevator doors opened to what would soon become a familiar sight– Javier trailing the ambassador as she tried to escape him and the DEA offices. “With all due respect, if I wanted to be a babysitter I would've taken up a job with the RIPs”  She turned to face him, her back to you. “Agent Peña, I'm going to repeat myself one more time, and I really shouldn't have to, but please stop referring to them as the “RIP’’s ”. Talk about professionalism, you definitely weren’t expecting whatever the hell this was when you thought of diplomatic work. 
Noonan almost unceremoniously bumped into you as she skirted away from Javier, raising her hands in absolute elation now that he had to take care of you, and couldn’t bother her any longer. “There you are, perfect! Agent Peña show her around, and please, be nice.” She all but pushed you into him, and you heard Javier helplessly and pathetically yell after her as she walked to the elevator. “I still need that clearance ambassador–” 
Despite the fact that he was looking at you like he wanted to tear you apart you didn't let that distract from the absolute marvel Javier Peña was. If you didn’t know any better you’d be on your knees for the man, and you couldn’t trust that you did. With the way his hair sat messily ruffled atop his head in soft curls, falling dangerously close to his eyes, or the way his now crinkled button up from the tiring workday hugged his forearms, who could blame you? Who knew, maybe you even liked the way he looked at you? 
You shot him your signature smile, and extended your hand to introduce yourself. Forget about Noonan, she’d probably retire soon anyway, it was his approval you really wanted now. With brows raised he took his time assessing you. You didn’t miss the way his eyes raked over your body, or the way he chewed on his lip as he did so. Feeling a little, or maybe very, hot under his gaze you shifted uncomfortably, still holding your hand out politely, but all you got from him besides his shameless gawking was a condescending chuckle, and he was turning away and walking back inside. 
So he really was an asshole. 
You stood in shock for a moment. Was this some sort of odd hazing process at the embassy? What the hell was going on? His voice zapped you out of the absolute embarrassment of an interaction you just had. “You gonna stand there all day?” God he was such a prick. You’d barely been there two minutes and you were already on Van Ness and Feist's team. You couldn’t even imagine what life would be like if he was your boss. Or could you? 
Your gaze hardened at the realization. If there was one thing you were not going to do it was lust hopelessly after a man who didn't even want to give you the time of day, someone who thought he was so much better than you were. You were not going to inflate his already massive ego by crooning for his praise, no! You were not going to let him wield that kind of power over you. 
You watched as he walked through the office, the man sucked the air outta the room with the way he quite literally strutted across it. Practically dragging yourself behind him you tried your best to compose yourself, you were not going to let Peña and his asshole ways ruin your stay– he was going to like you, going to give you the time of day– and if hard work and a good attitude didn’t do it, your batting lashes certainly would.  
Swimmin' pool glimmerin', darling
White bikini off with my red nail polish
Watch me in the swimmin' pool, bright blue ripples
You sittin', sippin' on your Black Cristal, oh, yeah
In the subsequent days you surprisingly had made yourself quite at home in the embassy– after all you did spend almost all of your day there. Van Ness and Fiestl soon became great friends, and would often drop by your workstation during breaks, or to invite you out for drinks after work. Things were going rather well, there was nothing much to complain about. The people who worked at the embassy were really friendly, and many of them took a liking to you. If charming your way into everyone's good graces was still your plan it sure as hell was working. 
You’d even met a certain blonde haired, blue eyed office heartthrob. While they were both certainly easy on the eyes, Agent Murphy was otherwise little like his partner, he was friendly, helpful, and generally in a good mood. Hell he even wished you ‘good morning’ when he got into work everyday. In due time you could even say Steve Murphy had become somewhat of a friend, he was quite fond of you– then again everyone in the office really was. 
That is almost everyone. 
Progress in the Javier department of your life had barely made moves. He was such a dick. On your second day you remember knocking on his door and politely asking if he could sign some papers that would get you some cultural records in Bogotá. You didn’t know what response you’d been expecting, but he'd essentially told you to leave him the hell alone.  
You wondered if being such a bitter jerk was exhausting. “Now girlie, runalong..” And with that he shut his door. You didn't want to let it affect you, but it did. You crooned for his attention, but he was so cold and detached, and nothing seemed to get through to him. The smiles, the ‘good mornings’, the way you’d offered to drop his files at the Ambassador's on your way there, it did nothing. He only smiled at you condescendingly, and at one point even joked about how he wasn’t sure you were capable of making it to the other side of the building. 
“Don't worry your head about these files, wouldn’t want you wandering around, lost, tryna find Noonan’s office.” 
Not to mention how he couldn’t keep his mouth shut about your “silly little paper”, how your work was “cute” or “funny”. God, you couldn’t stand it. The way he leaned over your desk, jumbled up your resources while he carelessly looked through them. With his messy, loose tie, and his sideways smile, and warm, comforting brown eyes, and that mocking teasing tone…... 
—- 
My old man is a tough man, but
He got a soul as sweet as blood-red jam
And he shows me, he knows me
Every inch of my tar-black soul
“If he can’t drink it, or fuck it, he’s not interested.” When Feistl had told you that on your first day you scoffed, but it proved to be valuable, and unbelievably, true information in no time. Unintentionally Javier had condemned himself to an eternal state of perdition, you were not giving up, and this time you were going to drive him crazy. 
He surely wasn’t prepared for the little menace you became in the following weeks. You only felt pride when you’d catch him looking at you– embarrassing how he couldn't keep his eyes off. You and your cute little dresses, skirts, those you didn’t initially plan to wear to the office. His glare almost burnt a hole in your back everyday at midday, hotter than the afternoon sun peaking through the blind covered windows as you sat on Van Ness’ desk, laughing at something Feistl said. If there was one thing worse than an HR violation, it was an HR violation with a girl nearly half his age.
You’d found a fancy for discovering his ticks, new ways you could push his buttons. When you weren’t calling him sir as you addressed him, or taunting him with your dopey eyes and girlish smiles you were making his life a lot less convenient. 
“Where the hell is Peña” at least twice a week Stechner would all but slither into the office, talking about congress people, funding and how the DEA was raining all over his parade. As much as you hated the man, he was your trusted ally in trying times, especially when you decided breaking the office’s unspoken rule was going to be your new favorite pastime. That rule was of course, never telling anyone, especially his colleagues, where the hell Javier Peña was at any given time. 
So when Bill walked up to you and leaned beside your desk you faithfully pointed to the filing room you knew Javier was quite literally hiding in. When he walked, more like stormed out with Bill you were sure he could break you in half, the way he was looking at you, but you had given up lying to yourself, you loved it. Every morning he’d come into the office and have to find other places to escape to– from Noonan and Murphy and all other accountability. But for a cop he was pretty shit at it, and you always found a way to tell where it was he'd gone to. It also helped that nearly everyone enjoyed it when Javier had to deal with the bureaucracy, it was free reality tv, and you could be sure if you didn’t know who or what he was trying to avoid, someone else in the office surely would.
You had simultaneously become a great asset to Steve Murphy, who was, more than you expected, willing and enthusiastic about getting shit done, shit that Javier’s stubbornness would only prolong, especially because he knew the mix of Peña and the CIA was anything but productive. Whether it was distracting him while he got support for their missions, or rushing to answer the phones and covering for him and making Javi deal with Noonan you were always game. Murphy was always appreciative. 
“Steve’s out right now, but Javier’s in his office if you’d like to speak with him…” Steve pretty much cackled behind his desk as you handed the phone’s receiver to Peña, and watched as he exhaled heavily through his nose, using every bit of restraint he could possibly muster not to kick the two of you out of the building. He settled for flipping Murphy off instead. 
As someone who wasn’t an embassy employee you pretty much had free reign over the place, and you knew it only made Javier more upset knowing he couldn’t do anything about it. You were thoroughly enjoying your time in Bogotá, you knew Javier was thinking about you, you knew how much you got on his nerves, you loved the way he’d glare at you, boss you around, get annoyed at your little antics. You craved his attention and you were finally getting it. 
Though every once in a while you’d feel a little pang in your chest, at the way he’d roll his eyes at you, be his regular mean self. But you shoved that feeling aside, you did not want his approval. That would be pathetic. You just wanted a little payback.
He doesn't mind I have a flat broke-down life
In fact, he says he thinks it's what he might like about me
Admires me, the way I roll like a rolling stone
Javier had been avoiding you like the plague for a good two days. That was after he overheard a conversation you were having with your supervisor he wasn’t really meant to be a party to. You remember twirling the cord wire between your fingers as you updated her over the phone. “Yeah, I need to get to the congress library, they have all the copies there.” You pushed the speaker button, letting go of the receiver to sift through the piles of printed paper on your desk. “Do you have access, did the embassy get you an ID? I spoke to Noonan but she’s busy babysitting her employees.” You bit back a smile. Javier and Murphy sure were a handful. 
“No, of course they didn’t. They don’t give a rat's ass” Frankly, you were exhausted from having to get or find somebody to do anything around there. Noonan was practically no help until the dean was breathing down her neck, for people who had been working in Bogotà for years very few in the embassy knew the directions to anyplace that wasn’t a bar, and everyone was far too busy kissing each other’s ass to get things done. “The DEA can go, can't they? Get one of em to take you” Before you could respond you heard the rattling of the water cooler behind you, and you caught Javier’s half shocked half annoyed expression in the reflection of the window as he scrambled for a paper napkin to wipe the water off his dress shirt.  
“Hmm, I didn’t think of that…..that's a great idea” 
That was on Monday. Tuesday and Wednesday were spent turning in the opposite direction anytime you approached him, sneaking past you on his way in and out, and begging Murphy to take that trip to the Congress library instead. On Thursday you were sure you won the lottery. 
Both Murphy and Carillo in the same room, and better yet in the office before Javier had made his grand entrance. They stood over what looked to you like a large map, arguing about something with far too much energy at eight in the morning. You saw this as your little opening. Where the hell was Peña? 
Turns out he was with the Ambassador.  
—-
Likes to watch me in the glass room, bathroom, Château Marmont
Slippin' on my red dress, puttin' on my makeup
Glass room, perfume, cognac, lilac fumes
Says it feels like heaven to him
“And you’re going too?” Ambassador Noonan sat back in her chair, twirling her pencil between her fingers, looking expectantly at the irate face in front of her. You thought you’d spare Agent Peña his white lies, answering promptly in that sweet voice of yours.  “Yes, Agent Murphy told me, and besides, if he's around I can access all the archives..” You shrugged your shoulders and shot her your most persuasive smile. “Government ID an’ all” . You almost felt bad for Peña, the way his friends were so quick to rat him out. But then again he’d stirred up enough petty fights over the years so that nearly everybody was quick to get their petty revenge. That jerk was planning to take his little trip to the library– with Carillio of all people, and he was going to leave you behind? Not anymore.
“Well, I don't see the problem, just take her to the goddamn library. Jesus Peña why is everything so difficult with you.” Javier shot you a glare you could only describe as deadly, but you could only giggle at his exasperation. He rose from his chair, leaning on her desk, like he was trying to seduce her into getting out of this situation. You wondered how Noonan showed so much restraint, if you were her you’d be giving into anything he said no questions asked. 
“Ambassador, really, all that is below my paygrade, don't ya think?” Your mouth fell agape, and you turned to him to find he was smiling, looking directly at you. Asshole  “This whole conversation is below my paygrade. You’re bothering me Peña, get to work..” and with that the two of you were practically kicked out of her office and thrown into the hall,  where in the deafening silence you heard the large wooden doors slam behind you. 
You were lucky there was no one else around, especially when he practically slammed you against the wall. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Tryna fuck my whole day over baby?” You had to physically fight yourself to not give into the death grip he had on your shoulders, to hold yourself up as he caged you against the corridor.  “I just really need these papers, and only you can get ‘em for me ” You bat your lashes at him, and he pressed his forehead against the wall beside you in complete frustration, sighing. He knew that wasn’t true, and he knew you did as well. Any intern could have gotten them for you, but who was an intern in comparison to him? 
“I won't bother you again, promise” you bit your lip and held your pinkie finger up in what Javier saw as practically an act of war. His hands moved from your shoulders to grab you by the waist as you looked up at him. Despite your smiley exterior you were all giddy on the inside, especially when he leant beside your ear and warned in his low whisper, thumbs drawing circles on your flesh. 
“You're playin’ with fire baby..” 
— 
I'm off to the races, laces
Leather on my waist is tight, and I am fallin' down
I can see your face, is shameless, Cipriani's Basement
Love you, but I'm goin' down
As much as you wanted to bother Javier during his little snoop session with Carillo, you still had a job to do, so you shoved your brattiness aside for a few hours and got to work finding the documents you needed from the archives. You were honestly expecting a medal for your self restraint, because once you were done you waited patiently till he strutted outside after his meeting, barely holding up the heavy box with all your findings. You’d been standing there for almost two hours, and the jerk hadn’t even given you a heads up so you could sit inside.
“Finally.” He rolled his eyes, and like he was running some sort of marathon didn’t bother even helping you, speed walking across the parking lot as you stumbled and struggled behind him– attempting to keep up. 
“We gotta get back, now.” 
You buckled your seatbelt as he pulled out of the driveway, and relaxed against your seat as you caught your breath. “Where’re we going?” He turned to you and smiled, but it was in that signature condescending way that he always did. Meanie You thought to yourself. “We are not going anywhere. You are going back to the office, and I am going to take care of something you don't need to worry about.” You didn't know whether there was any use still being offended by his patronizing attitude, he could’ve just said you were going back to the office, but that was too normal, too dignified of a response for the great, cartel busting Javier Peña 
“I could come.” He laughed at your pout, as he turned to look at you, rounding the corner. “Baby, don’t ya’ think that's a little ambitious comin’ from someone who got winded carrying a box across a parking lot.” You scoffed, yes, it would've been nice to have some help. “Don’t worry, I don’t want anything to do with whatever it is you're going to do, anyway” Wanting to turn away from him you looked out the window, but that only lasted so long. 
“If this lead comes through, everyone in Bogotà’s gonna want everything to do with it.” You watched as the setting sun drenched your surroundings in a golden glow, and you couldn’t look away from the way Javier’s brown eyes too turned into pools of gold as the sun caught them. His voice a low hum just a little louder than the radio he habitually played as he drove around. It took a special type of maniac to go on missions off the clock. 
“Who’s it for, the lead?” He hummed, and smiled to himself as he spoke, that look on his face you couldn’t quite place– like he was just waiting for his opponent to slip up.  “One of the big guys. You should meet him when we bring him in– you’d get along–  he's a pain in my ass” 
You turned your gaze from the opening embassy gates to meet his eyes, your own narrowed into slits as you stared him down– he was smiling, and you hated it. “Mean.” He shook his head at your irritation, and wordlessly pulled up into the driveway. “Now, you're gonna take those files, and you're gonna sit your bratty ass down, and you're gonna work on that silly paper of yours” You were halfway out the door, lifting the giant cardboard box off the floor of the car with embarrassing difficulty.
Great, there was another thing he could berate you for. 
“That's a lot of instructions..” Your voice was muffled behind your paperwork, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it when he tried to boss you around. 
“Well here's another– don't touch anything while I'm gone.” He laughed to himself as he caught your rolling eyes peering at him over the top of the box, that being the only part of you that was really visible to him. Waiting for you to make it to the entrance he watched as one of his colleagues, one of the many heading out for the day, took it from you, and helped you inside. 
The low hum of the radio replaced the sound of your voice, an old spanish tune coming over the static as he drove out and away from the embassy. 
God, I'm so crazy, baby
I'm sorry that I'm misbehaving
I'm your little harlot, starlet, Queen of Coney Island
Raisin' hell all over town
Sorry 'bout it
“Didn't I specifically tell you not to touch anything” You lifted your head in the direction of that familiar voice, irritated as usual, but also a little more gruff, a little more tired. For a moment you regretted annexing his office while he was away. You watched as he sauntered in and towards his desk, opposite the little workstation you’d set up on a spare table where he’d dumped his tie and blazer for when the Ambassador popped around. He propped his hands on his desk, leaning against it to meet your gaze. 
God did he look good, the day had taken its toll on him, but it was only doing him favors. That soft brown hair had been ruffled out of place, and that crisp button up sat wrinkled on his back, loosely and messily tucked into his navy dress pants, sleeves haphazardly rolled up his forearms. While he looked like he worked a regular nine to five, from the little you knew about his job, an intentionally minimal amount, you were sure the unkemptness was the result of some high stakes chase, raid or whatever it was he’d set his head to doing that day.  
“‘M not touching, I just needed the AC” He rolled his eyes, but his neatly hung blazer and rolled up tie caught his attention from across the room. “See.. Untouched” You shot him that smile that you knew drove him up the wall, and he shook his head, now concerned more with sorting the paperwork splayed out in front of him. “Must be real hard, highlightin’ all that paper” He pointed to your reference material. As bad as the day was, it wasn't bad enough to persuade him to stop being a jerk.  
The place was a mess, and he couldn’t leave it this way till the morning, that would be a hit to his professionalism far worse than any of the shady shit he’d done over the years. He didn’t have time for your childish antics. At least for the moment. It’d been a long day and he wanted nothing more than to get it over with. Boy did he look like he needed to let off some steam, and while at first glance your actions were doing anything but helping him relax, couldn’t he see you were just begging for him to use you for exactly that? 
Maybe it was because he was tired of your shit, or because he was far too preoccupied with his work at the time, or because the office was dark and quiet and cold, but the next few minutes passed in uncharacteristic silence. You gazed up once in a while to see Javier’s scrunched brows sort through an abundance of filing. He’d sigh heavily every once in a while, and you could only wonder what or who, besides you, got on his nerves that much. You were almost eager to eliminate the competition. The world drowned out in the white noise of shuffling documents and clicking pens and you were once again lost in your paper. 
Every part of you really wished he wasn’t such an asshole. What had you ever done to him anyway, for him to be so cold and mean? You couldn’t pretend you had nothing to do with it, you'd egged him on beyond measure, but you’d only ever wanted him to like you. Okay maybe you thoroughly enjoyed his irritation, but you only really ever wanted his attention. Pathetic.. You thought to yourself. You pretended he wasn’t bothered by you taking over his office for a moment.
“Done yet?” You hadn’t even realized how or when Javier had crossed the room and made his way in front of you. His fingers danced on the edge of your laptop screen. You didn’t feel like answering just yet, so you typed away at your keyboard for a while longer. The silence wasn’t appreciated, and you could feel the exhaustion radiate off him like heat. You caught him fiddling with the pens on your desk, and skimming over some of your printed material from the corner of your eye, and you bit your lip to stifle your laughter when he chucked it back on your desk in what you assumed was complete disinterest. He was going to try harder to get your attention. 
You weren't prepared however when he practically slammed your laptop shut, forcing you to stop ignoring him. Talk about disrupting the workplace. Groaning, you rested your chin in your palms and peered up at him through dopey eyes. A man who had been driven to the edge, that's the gaze you met. It was not going to affect you, that muted rage, that wrought iron glare. You promised yourself. But your desires were already betraying you.. you rubbed your thighs together to alleviate the ache. 
“There a problem?” With a tone that set his last teeth on edge you kept up the facade, against your better judgment. It was just too much fun not to. When you looked up at him through your lashes you could almost see the slight tick in his jaw, and your mind wandered to what other ways you’d like this type of view. “Yes, in fact there is. It's 1am” He leaned forward, dangerously close, to the point you could feel the warmth of his breath fan against your lips, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You caught the faint smell of cigarettes off his disheveled clothes, the scent of whiskey on his lips. You felt your breath hitch, but you hoped he didn't notice. How naive, that was. 
“And” Your eyes darted to his mouth momentarily as you spoke, voice wavering. He raised his brows, almost to tell you not to push him any further than you already did. It was too late, however. Whatever this was had spiraled far out of your control, and he could see the way you squirmed under that commanding gaze of his. Your brain was screaming at the attention, and you had to inwardly yell at yourself to stop being so needy. 
“And?” Your brows furrowed, your lips forming that signature pout when you heard him mock your tone, your voice.  “I've had a long day, baby, and I wanna go home” You huffed girlishly at his ridicule, the way he liked to humiliate you by throwing your attitude back in your face with his snide imitations, his raised brow and faux sympathy. He talked like one does to a misbehaving child. In that patronizing, explanatory melody. You watched him chuckle with slitted eyes, though you were slowly turning to a puddle underneath it all.
“Go home then Mr. Peña. I'm not stopping you am I?” You watched his eyes darken, and you weren't even sure that was possible, but you didn’t have much time to think because before you knew it he was pinching your cheeks between his fingers, his other hand still holding him up on the table. You could only whine under his rough touch as its effects licked between your thighs. He laughed when you mewed at the sting. 
“Oh but you are. You're just beggin’ me to stay, aren't ya’ baby?” Your soft and pathetically unconvincing ‘no’ was muffled as he squeezed your cheeks in his large hands, yanking you in his direction as you fruitlessly attempted to free yourself from his grip. Unable to help yourself you were almost crooning into his touch, your body basically begging him to rough you up. “Such a fuckin’ brat. Runnin’ your mouth all day, showin’ up in those clothes, fuckin up my schedule, acting like a whore” His soft whisper made you shiver, your skin now on fire. He spoke slowly, and every syllable made you want to drop at his feet with a vigor you could only be embarrassed of. He made you feel small, made you feel helpless under his touch. 
You wanted to push back, wanted to defy his accusations.“‘m not a whore” He smiled at your whining, and if you were delusional, and you were, even hopeful,  you’d say he did so endearingly. But Javier Peña didn’t care about endearments, and after the way you’d acted you’d be crazy to think he thought there was anything endearing about you. “Right baby. You're not. Gotta pay girls to act this way ‘round me. But look at you. Didn’t spare you a fuckin dime.” 
He had let go of your face, and had in a moment, quickly and uncaringly dumped you on the table in front of him. You let out a soft “ow” when you felt your knees bump the wood before your legs were dangling off its edge. You were far closer to him now, and if you had felt small before you thought you were only shrinking in comparison to his domineering frame– physical, mental, everything. Your brain was mush, your body was mush, and you could only lean into his touch– benevolent or not. 
In an uncharacteristically gentle gesture he patted your cheeks with the palm of his hand, lightly, as if to soothe the sore flesh, but it only made the way he pulled them mockingly far more jarring. “Know what that makes you babygirl?” He paused for a moment, knowing you couldn't answer, looking down at the way your eyes were now welling with tears at the pain, and reveling in the sight. 
“Makes you a little slut” 
You wanted to respond, wanted to defend yourself, but you could only settle for grabbing his dress shirt in the balls of your first. The fabric of your panties had pretty much soaked through, and you felt it cling to you uncomfortably as you shifted on the table to pull him closer. Practically begging for his touch. 
He let go of your face, but he didn’t plan on being any more gentle. He knew there was nothing you could do, nothing you could say at that moment, and he took full advantage of your silence– telling you everything he’d wanted to scream in your face for the past month. It was even better now however, because as a fun bonus, for his superhuman self control, you were even pleading for him to do so. He could see it in your eyes, feel it on your hot skin, the way you subtly rolled your hips against the table to ease the pang between your thighs. He reduced you to a dumb, empty headed bimbo, with his words alone. He couldn't help but rub it in a little. “Aw baby, no words for me? Where’s that snappy mouth now?” That faux sympathy was back again
His hands rubbed up and down your sides, moving to toy with the buttons of your top as he spoke. Fiddling with them he popped the first few open, enough to expose the swell of your breasts to the cool of the air conditioned office. With lust blown eyes he trailed his thumbs along your collar bones and then down to your admittedly skimpy lingerie– you gasped when he yanked it down, practically tearing if in a swift motion. He admired you for a moment, held you in place when you squirmed against him, wrapped your legs around his waist. 
You shifted on the desk, leaning your face against his torso, looking up at him,  pleading with your eyes. “Like you better like this, clothes half off like a desperate slut that couldn’t even wait to get undressed.” He paused, still admiring, tracing your cheekbones with his thumbs. “Oh, and fucking quiet”  he flipped you on your stomach, your legs dangling of the table when you writhed under his punishing grip– pushing your face down against the wood, bending you over it. “Whaddya think baby?” 
As if he had enough of just looking you felt him flip your skirt up with his vacant hand, and yelped when his palm came down harshly on the flesh of your ass, the sting only egging on your tears of desperation. “You know what I think baby? Think I needa fuck some manners into you.” He smoothed his hands up and down your warm thighs, fingers finding the soaked fabric of your panties as you moaned and sighed above him. He knew what he did to you and he loved it. “Can pretend there's anything in that head of yours besides the thought of goin’ dumb for me”
You lifted your head to look up and behind you, you’d give anything to witness the sight you’d touched yourself to for the past month, but Javier was quick to slam you head back back to where it came from, and send your eyes rolling back into your head as he shoved your soaked panties aside and roughly pushed two fingers into your sopping cunt. "Fuck, look at this tight little pussy, can barley take my fingers." He groaned in your ear, leaning up against you as his digits fucked you at an agonisingly slow pace, just barely soothing the burn of desire building in your core. “Bad girls don’t get a view.” Light headed, you could only squeal, could only hide your face from him as he leaned over to catch a glimpse of your knitted brows and that pout. 
"Y'know how messy y'are baby? Feel how this pussys cryin' for me, drippin' all over my hand?"
You kicked your legs in protest, salty tears streaming down your face and pooling at its side on the wood beneath you. He wasn’t happy when he found you pushing back against his fingers, grinding helplessly on them. For a moment you thought your wish was granted, but he was only yanking you off the desk so you could have your back flush against him, and he could get his hand wrapped tightly around your throat. Still languidly pumping his fingers in and out of your soaking pussy he turned your face to meet his, and sneered as his palm collided with the side of your cheek. 
Smack 
“Watch it” You wanted to be a brat, wanted to defy him, but it was all too much to handle at once. You felt fuzzy all over, and who were you kidding you were always going dumb for him. Besides, how could you even keep your mind steady, not when you felt his hard length against you. You gazed right up at him, pushed back against him, eyes rolling back into your head as you did. He only laughed. “Oh baby, think it's gonna be that easy? Think ‘m gonna let you cum jus’ like that? After you've run me up the wall?” He squeezed your breast in his palm, bending you back over the table, now more gently, extending the olive branch, giving you a chance to repent. “‘M not a needy slut like you baby, those little tricks ain't’ gonna work” Javier was an asshole, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting to ruin you. But first he wanted to have a little fun. 
“Please, please, promise I'll be good.” He hummed, pretending like he was debating whether he was going to give into your pleas yet. He wasn't. He wanted to soak in the sight– you splayed out on his desk, begging him to fuck you sensless, his hands roaming your body torturously teasing you as your pussy clenched around nothing, dripping for him. 
“So now ya wanna be good? Well baby I'm not buyin it yet. Gonna take a lot more convincing than that.” His fingers found your clothed cunt once again, drawing soft circles on your clit. You wailed, knuckles going white when you gripped the table edge in front of you. "Feels good doesnt' it babygirl, I know, feels so good when you finally fucking listen." You pushed back against his fingers, practically humping his hand. The tears were back, and he loved them. “Aw, poor baby, too much?” He wasn’t asking, and you knew he didn’t care what you had to say anyway. He wanted one response, and you were far too wound up not to give it to him. 
“Please please please. Won't be a brat, wanna be your good girl.” He kept you waiting and distraught, fingers still rubbing you through your panties as he spoke, knowing very well you could barely concentrate when he touched you, the squelching of your wetness only drove you towards the edge. “Now babygirl, you're gonna listen, and you're gonna listen good, and do exactly what I say. Ya hear?” You nodded your head vigorously, but a smack to your ass reminded you to use your words. “Yes. promise” He laughed. “Such an easy little slut.” You heard the jingle of his belt behind you. 
You shivered when you felt his cock drag against your drenched cunt, tip bumping your clit with every pass as he wet himself with your slick. Your hips moved frantically, unable to get enough of the friction, but he held you back just enough, to where you would remain unsatisfied and frustrated.“Say" I'm sorry daddy. I'm sorry for being a tease.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, and the command alone was enough to send you over the edge. 
“‘m sorry for being a tease daddy ” 
“Say “I'm Sorry for being an easy whore”” 
“M’ sorry for being an easy whore” You’d never been more shy in your life, forget around Javier, who could never guess you had it in you. “That’s my good little slut.” But the way he was speaking to you, teasing, mocking, telling you what to do, what to say– you were hot all over with humiliation. You hid your face, pretty much smashing your forehead against the table, making sure no matter how far he lent he couldn't see the way you were coming undone under him. 
He could probably sense it, though, especially by the way you reacted to his little praise. “That's it babygirl. Comin around now are we?” You didn't want him to have that on you, but you were lucky, in a way, because he didn’t care much to tease you anymore. He grabbed your hips harshly and with a rough thrust of his hips he was fucking you into the mahogany desk, your ribs bruising as he held you down against it. He wasn’t wasting any time, wasn’t stopping or going slow to let you adjust, he was reminding you of how tightly you’d wound him up.“So fuckin tight” his voice was a strained whisper behind you, and you made a noise you could barely recognise as your own at his words. “Hurts” you were whining again,this time at the sting,  and you knew he didn’t care but you couldn’t help yourself. “Yeah baby hurts when daddy stuffs you full of his cock? My poor thing.. But you like it don't you babygirl? Like it when I stretch you open” he wasn’t wrong. The feeling of him splitting you open had turned you into a puddle, a moaning mess. “”S too big” his hands smoothed up and down your back erratically.  “I know baby, I know, but you’re gonna take it aren’t you? Gonna take it how I give it to you dirty little girl?” You were, you took it how he gave it to you. “Gonna ruin this pretty lil pussy” He squeezed the flesh of your hips till you squeaked, the pain only adding to the pleasure as his hips smacked against yours. 
You felt your legs shake as his cock pounded your aching pussy. “Jus’ needed daddy to fuck all that brattiness outta ya huh?” You nodded your head and he cooed at the way you melted into his touch. “Oh baby, that’s it, just like that.” Gazing up with hooded eyes you caught his reflection in the glass of his office window, half illuminated by the dim lighting– his own face scrunched up with pleasure. The sight only had you fucking back against him. You felt like jello, your heart pitter pattering at his little praise. 
“My good little slut” 
Wrapping his arm around you he grabbed your face roughly again, dragging you up and against his chest again. 
“My slut, hear me?” 
Yours, yours, yours 
Your brain was a fog, and the only thing you could focus on was the way his cock was hitting that sweet spot inside you, making you clench around him as that burn built in your core– a string of incoherent “daddy’s” being the only thing you could manage to get out your mouth.  “My dumb fuckin baby, my whore, squeezin’ my cock”. You repeated like a broken record; “daddy’s, daddy’s daddy’s”, the feeling of your slick running down your thighs making you go dizzy. 
“Look at you, daddy’s little cumdump” your cheeks were burning, your eyes barley staying open. He pulled your face up from the desk. “Can barely look straight huh baby? Gettin all cock drunk on me.” You made out his dark eyes in the reflection. But you couldn’t bear to meet them. It didn’t matter. He was always looking at you.
“Only for you daddy”
Your release was building, like an inextinguishable fire, your pussy throbbing with need, just begging for it, and he knew it too, the way your walls quivered around him, the way you were moaning and panting, whispering soft calls of “daddy” when he held you against him. “Gonna cum babygirl? Gonna cum on my cock, bent over my desk? When ’m usin’ ya like a fuckin toy?” 
Your body went lax in his arms as you came, your lips parting in a wordless cry, eyes fluttering shut. “That's it… cum for me”. You cherished that almost gentle encouragement as you came undone, tummy swarming with butterflies as you shook in his arms. He was still fucking into your sensitive pussy, pushing you further into the desk as he neared his release. You heard a strained curse behind you, before he was fucking you full of his cum in deep, hard thrusts, your legs dangled off the table as you milked his cock. Shivering at the feeling you closed your eyes, his spend leaked out of your sore pussy when he pulled out, dripping down your inner thighs obscenely. You heard his belt jingle again as he caught his breath behind you, and you felt silly for the way you missed his warmth when it was replaced by the chilled office air. He quickly shifted your panties back in place, making sure you stayed stuffed full of his cum. You winced when he smacked your pussy lightly. Raising your head you caught his reflection again, but you hid your face back against the desk almost immediately when you saw the way he admired his work in the reflection, like he could see the way he’d fucked the brattiness out of you. 
With closed eyes you hummed as he turned you over and sat you on the desk. Now that you’d finally got Javier’s attention you were satisfied– all sleepy and fucked out. You wished he’d hold you, but you had to remind yourself fucking you hadn’t taken the asshole out of him. He was still Javier. Hardass DEA attaché Javier. You sat there for a while, and when you opened your eyes you saw him picking up his blazer and briefcase. 
“If you're not up in 10 seconds I'm leavin’ ya here.” He was back to usual in a moment, and in your fuzzy little head you heard a well meaningness in that tone. “In those messy panties.” You pouted at his words, once again, and he watched as you hopped off the table, rubbing your eyes as you gathered your things, albeit clumsily–your knees wobbly to the point where you could see Javier’s smirk behind you as you shoved your laptop into your bag. 
Turning off the table lamp he motioned with his head for you to get moving along, and you rolled your eyes at him as you walked out the door, stumbling slightly as you did. He gave you what you now recognised as that look, brows raised, and you didn’t have the energy at the moment to be combative. 
Maybe you didn’t want to be. 
“Come on now, runalong”
My old man is a thief, and
I'm gonna stay and pray with him 'til the end
But I trust in the decision of the Lord, to watch over us
Take him when He may, if He may
I'm not afraid to say that I'd die without him
Who else is gonna put up with me this way?
I need you, I breathe you, I'll never leave you!
They would rue the day I was alone, without you
You're lyin' with your gold chain on
Cigar hangin' from your lips, I said, "Hon'"
"You never looked so beautiful as you do now, my man"
And we're off to the races, places
Ready, set, the gate is down and now we're goin' in
To Las Vegas, chaos, Casino Oasis
Honey, it is time to spin
Boy, you're so crazy, baby
I love you forever, not maybe
You are my one true love
You are my one true love
You are my one true love
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Let me know what you think please!! I’d love to hear your nasty thots. I really hope you lovelies liked it. Thank you to everyone who reblogs my work. You keep me writing! Dividers and banners by @ saradika 💗💗🐝🐝
2K notes · View notes
whxtedreams · 1 year ago
Text
When they’re ill / injured 
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Summary: Small drabbles about how they let you help them when they're ill or injured.
Word Count: 1.3k
Tags: Injury, knife wounds, blood, fear, drug use, fluff.
Characters: Joel Miller, Din Djarin, Prince Oberyn, Javier Peña, Agent Whiskey, Frankie Morales
a.n. yeah, so I'm a health worker (admin) and literally thought of this at work while going over forms, wrote dot points on sticky notes and smashed this out in my lunch break. Enjoy!
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Joel Miller
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Main cause for concern: Injury: lower back  
Joel hides his pain from you for all of three hours. When you finally realise, he doesn't actually know you’re in the room. He gets up from a chair and grunts in pain, his hand shooting to his back as he supports himself on the dining table with his other hand. He jolts when he hears your voice when you ask if he’s okay, only making him hiss in pain when he moves. He tells you he’s fine, of course he does. You know he’s not. After multiple attempts to convince him to go to the clinic in the Q.Z., he finally gives in with a grunt. He huffs, mutters and grumbles the whole time he’s there, making sure he lets everyone know he’s fine. He’s not though: his back is fucked. 
Summary: the poor guy just lifted something.  
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Din Djarin 
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Main cause for concern: Injury: Knife wound; left arm 
Din shut himself in the refresher the moment he got back to the ship. Normally you would let him do whatever he needed to do after hunting a bounty, but the small blood trail he left in his wake worried you. You knock on the door but hear nothing but the clatter of Beskar falling to the floor. You knock again and ask if he needs any help but he just tells you to leave him. You don’t, though; you can’t. You sit with your back to the refresher door and wait. Wait, just in case he needs you. 
When the door finally does open, you look up from where you sit on the floor and he kneels in only his flight suit and helmet. He softly grabs your chin to look at his shielded face. He assures you he’s okay, but you can’t be sure. You lift the sleeve of his shirt to see the wound for yourself, your eyes softening with worry. A painfully long, jagged cut from his wrist to elbow scars his skin, and you hear the hiss from under his modulator as you reach up to touch it. You suggest that maybe this time he goes to a medical clinic. His fingers rest on your cheek as he sighs, telling you that you know why he can’t. He lets you patch him up after that after he wipes a tear from your cheek. 
Summary: just another scar for you to trace later.
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Prince Oberyn
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Main cause for concern: Illness: flu
He’s been in isolation in his chambers for four days now. You’ve stopped by his door each morning and night to check on him, only to be turned away by his guards. You were worried. But finally, on the fourth night when you arrive at his door, he calls for you. The guards let you in and your heart aches as you see him struggling to breathe and blankets sprawled over his body. He missed you, he tells you before he coughs. He motions for you to stop as you walk towards his bed but you do not care if he gets you sick, you just want him to feel better. You gather washcloths and wet them with cold water and lay them on his face, a soft sigh of relief settling in his chest. My sweet little dove, he calls you as his wrist weakly curves around yours as you sit beside his naked, shivering, sweating body. You end up in bed with him, running nails up and down his back as he grips onto your body heat, slowly lulling him to sleep. You pray to the gods that he’ll be better soon. You miss your Prince. 
Summary: it’s literally just a basic ass flu, he’s fine. But everyone deserves to be cared for. 
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Javier Peña
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Main cause for concern: Injury: gunshot wound, shoulder. 
He desperately tried to hide it from you, even as he began to dial your number multiple times throughout the night, only to throw the phone across the room. He didn’t want you to worry, didn’t want to see you panic. He spends the night in hospital before Steve eventually tells you the next morning assuming you already knew. You didn’t. You rush to the hospital, thinking the worst. You find his room and when you arrive your chest is heaving as your eyes frantically search him for injury. I’m okay baby, really, he whispers as you fall into a hug. And he does feel okay as he takes in the smell of your hair, the comfort you bring him as you hug him. You’re angry at him, furious at him for keeping you in the dark. But that feeling is only temporary, because he’s okay. He’s breathing. He’s alive. 
Summary: Hugs are healing.
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Agent Whiskey 
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Main cause of concern: Injury: Lasso burn 
He’s a fucking idiot and you make sure you tell him that after he tried to show off a new move. He was trying to impress you, and god, it would have if he didn’t whip himself and burn a massive line down his leg. He had shouted out in pain but tried to down play it as he came limping back over to you like a wounded puppy. Of course he was still flirting with you as you tried to assess the wound, asking you to kiss it better. You roll your eyes and kiss his leg beside his wound and the idiot tells you he’s healed, that your mouth is all he needs. It is in fact not any better when you drag him to the Kingsman med bay. As he lays on his stomach with your hand in his and the nurses have patched him up, he asks you to kiss him better again. You do. 
Summary: He’s an idiot. But he’s your idiot.  
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Frankie Morales
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Main cause for concern: OD poisoning
You get the call at eleven at night while you’re soaking in a bath. When you answer Fankie is freaking out, blabbering about brownies. You tell him to slow down, and he takes it literally. His words are dragged as he mentions the brownies again, how he feels poisoned. You sigh as you pull yourself from the bath, you let him know you’ll be over as soon as you can. 
When you do arrive at his house, he's laying on the living room floor. You stand above him, arms crossed over your chest as you raise an eyebrow. His hands are in the air as his eyes are fascinated by his fingers moving. He tells you he ate half a tray of “special” brownies and he honestly thought they were weak because they didn't do anything but then it just hit him like a truck and he can now both feel every bone in his body and also nothing. He laughs then, and then doesn’t stop. Somethin’ wrong with those brownies, he laughs and you smile, trying not to laugh. You look over at the tray as he goes to take another and you quickly rush to pick up the tray and he actually pouts at you as his fingers wiggle for the tray. Ah-no way, you scoff as you toss them in the bin. You end up pulling him off the floor and he pukes on the floor beside you, just missing you. Taking you to the ER, you sigh as you take hold of his hand and tug for him to follow you. 
When you do get to the ER, he sits beside you in the waiting room and his head rests on your shoulder and his arm wrapped around yours as you wait. A soft content smile is plastered on his face and you carefully run your fingers through his hair, pulling soft sighs from him. Feel funny, he sighs and you hum. Love you so much, he says as he nestles himself even further against your body. When he’s finally taken in to be put on a drip, he tugs you along with him, muttering he needs you.   
Summary: Eating half a tray of pot brownies was probably not a good idea. Actually –eating half a tray of normal brownies probably isn’t a good idea either tbh.  
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